Post by Loki Xaradar on Sept 21, 2015 4:16:58 GMT
[attr="class","bor"]
[attr="class","ctemp"]
LOKI XARADAR
demon
LOKI XARADAR
demon
[attr="class","con"]
FULL NAME: Loki Xaradar
NICKNAME(S): Lord, The Black Engineer
AGE: Old. Appears to be in his upper twenties however.
BIRTHPLACE: Unknown
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Las Vegas, but he bounces all over the place.
RANK/OCCUPATION: Crime-- Cartel Organizer / Engineer / Arms Dealer / Assassin
AFFILIATION: Himself mostly, but he's never forgotten his mother.
FACE CLAIM: Hayden Christiansen* (*twin)
LIKES
DISLIKES
MAGIK: Wings and Flight -- In recent centuries he may as well have forgotten that he has them, due to his desire not to use them. The large dark wings are powerful like that of a condor. Shadow Manipulation -- His ability with the shadows has greatly improved out of necessity since the nearly fatal encounter with his brother. Hiding himself, cloaked in darkness and the refined needle protrusions like glass made from solid shadows. His darkness is tangible in a way that is more consistent with fog now traveling behind him in a shadow which is constantly cast. His favorite thing to do however, is bind and blind others. His father's mental manipulation, while not particularly fond of the after effects the attention is well worth the risk.
DIVINE WEAPON: Perish the thought. Though he's pretty sure what it might look like, just a hunch.
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: A noticeable scar right across the front of his abdomen. He also seems to have a large burn along the side of his ribs. Both of these marks have since been covered by tattoos, in some effort to shut away the mistakes of the past.
WEAKNESSES:
Loki's previous weakness has gone from one standard to the other. He once felt empathy with his brother, that was a weakness which once blinded him. He also has this thing about silence, being in silence bother's him because even then there is a noise no one else seems to hear. That high pitched whistle he drowns out when he's alone by blasting records as loud as possible. He also can't resist cruel practical jokes and he speaks his mind, sometimes faster than it can even keep up. His magic, unlike the shadows of his father is constantly draining, resulting in his apparent need for sleep more often than usual.
STRENGTHS:
As far as villain's go Loki isn't the person you would outwardly expect in today's world. No people are more focused on the odd man with the neck beard and a shortness of breath. If you can fake sincerity you can fake pretty much anything, and boy had he mastered that art. Though this is not the only art he has mastered. Being a weapons engineer takes time, skill and as much as stealing weapons got his blood moving, the thought of making them to his specifications was even more enticing. He understands more than just magic, more than just the chemistry of drugs and the art of bullets. The man is a genius and he isn't afraid to put that brain of his to good use.
PERSONALITY:
FATHER: Asmodeus
MOTHER: Lilith
SIBBLINGS: Liam McCaulsonRen, Kytara, Drake, Zarek, Axi
SPOUSE(S): He's not the sort to let anyone that close.
OFFSPRING: None, liabilities and terrors that's what children are.
OTHERS: None he would think of listing though he employs quite a few criminals, and his little assistant, what was her name was it Deb? Sharon?
HISTORY:
His first real announcement, his return to the world marked a new age of chaos. The stakes had never been higher as the humans who could barely get their little pea brains wrapped around the concept of a wheel being round were now thinking of bigger, better things. He liked the sound of that word, 'atomic'. The biggest explosions, the deadliest fallout. Their wars had gotten violent, their crisis edging ever closer to the end. Who gave a damn what would happen in the end none of it mattered to Loki, now working in the desert under the nose of the American Government. With their father now hiding only hell knows where now really wasn't the time to think about angels that might be lurking, or even the brother he had long since worked out of his life. For the first time in a good long while he felt great. He felt back to normal.
He finally felt pride in something, and that in itself was a dangerous thing.
War itself had often been the vehicle for his antics, though long gone were the times when Greek fire was the most hostile invention of the age. No, this was only going to be the beginning, chemical and radioactive weaponry were the new agents to add into his arsenal. And why stop with this little project? Blowing things up in the desert was just the tip of the iceberg. Why, when those bombs dropped on Japan, when the Soviets after the crisis in Cuba and the world was on its edge, when North Korea, when Iran and the Israelis..it didn't matter who in the end it only mattered that the world kept on turning.
What a time to be alive this was, and to think if he hadn't gotten away all those years ago he would have missed the very best.
But the best, as they say was yet to come.
GIVE A MAN A FIRE AND HE'S WARM FOR A DAY
SET A MAN ON FIRE AND HE'S WARM FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE
* italics written by Leto
FULL NAME: Loki Xaradar
NICKNAME(S): Lord, The Black Engineer
AGE: Old. Appears to be in his upper twenties however.
BIRTHPLACE: Unknown
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Las Vegas, but he bounces all over the place.
RANK/OCCUPATION: Crime-- Cartel Organizer / Engineer / Arms Dealer / Assassin
AFFILIATION: Himself mostly, but he's never forgotten his mother.
FACE CLAIM: Hayden Christiansen* (*twin)
LIKES
- He likes meat, especially the kind that gets made into sushi, the raw stuff.
- Cars, he has quite an extensive collection. He loves going auto-shows and looking at the gaudy concept cars.
- He likes to date musicians for some reason.
- He takes his coffee black and really doesn't like elaborate deserts. Sugar cookies are his favorite, nothing too sweet or covered in heavy frosting.
- Swimming
- Playing music deafeningly loud
DISLIKES
- He dislikes it when things aren't coordinated to some extent, especially by color.
- When people tidy up after him he keeps everything clean on his own time almost inhumanly so.
- Silence
- Children, and he's gone out of his way to make sure he's never had any.
MAGIK: Wings and Flight -- In recent centuries he may as well have forgotten that he has them, due to his desire not to use them. The large dark wings are powerful like that of a condor. Shadow Manipulation -- His ability with the shadows has greatly improved out of necessity since the nearly fatal encounter with his brother. Hiding himself, cloaked in darkness and the refined needle protrusions like glass made from solid shadows. His darkness is tangible in a way that is more consistent with fog now traveling behind him in a shadow which is constantly cast. His favorite thing to do however, is bind and blind others. His father's mental manipulation, while not particularly fond of the after effects the attention is well worth the risk.
DIVINE WEAPON: Perish the thought. Though he's pretty sure what it might look like, just a hunch.
PHYSICAL AILMENTS: A noticeable scar right across the front of his abdomen. He also seems to have a large burn along the side of his ribs. Both of these marks have since been covered by tattoos, in some effort to shut away the mistakes of the past.
WEAKNESSES:
Loki's previous weakness has gone from one standard to the other. He once felt empathy with his brother, that was a weakness which once blinded him. He also has this thing about silence, being in silence bother's him because even then there is a noise no one else seems to hear. That high pitched whistle he drowns out when he's alone by blasting records as loud as possible. He also can't resist cruel practical jokes and he speaks his mind, sometimes faster than it can even keep up. His magic, unlike the shadows of his father is constantly draining, resulting in his apparent need for sleep more often than usual.
STRENGTHS:
As far as villain's go Loki isn't the person you would outwardly expect in today's world. No people are more focused on the odd man with the neck beard and a shortness of breath. If you can fake sincerity you can fake pretty much anything, and boy had he mastered that art. Though this is not the only art he has mastered. Being a weapons engineer takes time, skill and as much as stealing weapons got his blood moving, the thought of making them to his specifications was even more enticing. He understands more than just magic, more than just the chemistry of drugs and the art of bullets. The man is a genius and he isn't afraid to put that brain of his to good use.
PERSONALITY:
There's only one rule to all of this, he is the only one that matters. He would always be the center of his attention, and nothing was going to change that. Loki is a man who is a proverbial example of a 'snake in the grass.' The devil does not come in the guise of a demon, horns and claws are a thing of the renaissance. He comes wrapped in desires, beauty and power. Once upon a time long ago he was a different sort of man, a heart of a thrill seeker, passionate and with a lust for life he had been sent out into the world. He was a charming man, the skills gained from his father and mother would see to that, a snake in a perfectly tailored person suit. Complete with all the bells and whistles for the world to have the wool thrown over its eyes.
The man he is now would have eaten that child alive. Loki is, and will forever will be known for his eccentric violence, and generally unconcerned approach even to highly climactic events. A man who will only take care of his own needs now, there nothing that will sway him from anything he wants. Or at the very least nothing he has come across in life. Some have attributed his change in mannerism to the last vestiges of grief but even he would acknowledge that grief is not to blame for his actions. His sense of humor, also has not changed to say the least and quite possibly become much darker and more grotesque than before. He's very straightforward, though sometimes his version of forward isn't what most people would think it to be.
To be blunt about it, he is as cold and mechanical as the engines he's come to love. A methodical genius whose cruelty has only worsened with the loss of the one thing he had been foolish enough to think was impenetrable.
FATHER: Asmodeus
MOTHER: Lilith
SIBBLINGS: Liam McCaulson
SPOUSE(S): He's not the sort to let anyone that close.
OFFSPRING: None, liabilities and terrors that's what children are.
OTHERS: None he would think of listing though he employs quite a few criminals, and his little assistant, what was her name was it Deb? Sharon?
HISTORY:
"Humans are worthless, feeble minded creatures that run purely on the thoughts and feelings of those around them. They'd just as soon throw you under the avalanche to save themselves. That is why we destroy them. We've been exiled to this useless world and it's our duty to take it from these pathetic humans and make it our own world. We are above humans, they should be worshiping us! And instead, we hide who we are from them! Disgraceful! Use humans as your playthings, as your entertainment. Remember, Loki. The only person in this world you can trust is yourself and your brother. Keep yourself closed off from others and good things will happen for you."
He had been alive for such a long time. Ever since the beginning in fact. Though only a few fractions of time after his brother Ren. And it wasn't like they arrived in a hospital, with attendants and nurses, clean sheets and warmth. No they were born in the dirt, just them, just their mother. And no one else. It was sort of an odd thing to see, the first children of Demons and Man born so close together. And with such similar problems foreshadowed. Perhaps if Loki would have paid attention, things could have been avoided. So many moments spent like this, preceding and predicting their history as brother's.
Their father would be a hard man to impress, and as children they grew up without him. Their mother would facilitate in their care as best as well, any mother like Lilith really could. But there was thing that got through in the end. While they were pitting Cain and Able against each other, while they fought with sticks and wrestled in the dirt.
Though things were not happy for the brothers. While Loki lived a life of 'creativity', taking pleasure in each act he committed against both the humans and the angels. There was something stirring in his brother Ren's mind that would eventually tear them apart.
THE SINS OF DAEDALUS
To make a woman fall in love with a bull was one thing. That was ridiculously simple. What had followed had been her doing. A copper bull suit? Really? And what in the hell causes a man to think it would be a good idea to strap wings on the back of their child and send them flying off into the damned sun? A guy whose ideal afternoon is building a torturous maze for a weird cow-man hybrid based on the plans given to him by a god that's who. He had always been this way, the sick practical jokes constantly rearing their heads in his mind. Why not make a woman love a cow? Why not travel to Sodom and Gomorrah? Why not show the humans that putting sticks and rocks together made it easier to hurt one another. For Loki it had never been about why, it was always about why not. He was an inventor, even from an early age he simply just wanted something new, something faster.
And like Icarus he was headed right for the sun about to be burned. The Holy Wars were one thing, but this, had been the unforeseen consequence of the highest degree. The brother who he thought would be with him until the end of time was now looming above him, just like that night in the cave.
Ren flashed him a glare. "Shut up, big baby! If mother saw you now, she'd whip you an inch from your life! It's your own stupid fault the lion attacked you! Didn't I tell you to leave it the fuck alone?" He stood from the fire, the piece of metal looking like a magikal weapon in Ren's hand as the tip burned bright red. Loki whimpered, backing up till his back hit the cave wall. "Ar-are you going to tell Mother?" he asked, eyes never leaving the white hot end of the metal.
Ren continued to glare at him. Even for being a child, outlined by the fire with the flash of lightening in the background, Ren truly looked terrifying. He grabbed Loki's wrist and yanked him to the side as he touched the hot tip against Loki's skin, a sizzle echoing in the room as the smell of burnt skin radiated. Loki let out a feral scream of pain.
Even then things had been fun. Even when he had placed Daniel in with the lions, and gone in after them to see what was taking so long.
This wasn't fun anymore.
NECESSITY ISN'T JUST THE MOTHER OF INVENTION
Loki spit towards Ren, hatred burning in his eyes. "You're a traitor, Ren! You would bow before the Goddess and beg her help to bring me down! Look at you! Holding a Divine Weapon! You should turn the weapon on yourself!"
Ren felt the sting of his brother's words but his jealousy towards his brother overtook them and he didn't let it bother him. Instead, he brought the blade of the scythe up and rested it over Loki's heart, eyes turning black as the blade burst into flame. "This is for your own good, Loki. One day, you will thank me."
It wasn't so much the dying that bothered him, it was the sound. The screeching that had entered his ears like a dog whistle. No, it wasn't a static as some people would call it. More like the grinding of a needle, a stone against mental that sharp whine. He hated it almost as much as he hated himself now lying in the dirt, the shadows shrieking as they reached across him like hands trying to hold in his guts. Of all the things he had expected, he certainly had not expected that. The way it had cut through his armor, the shadows he had wrapped around himself peeled back like hot steel. The burning that had followed, even for such a small cut across his gut was unbearable. There wasn't any time now, time had given him all it could afford. The world was already swimming in darkness. His bloodied wings bent behind him as if he had come into the eye of a storm.
In a way he had. And he was lucky he had gotten away. But this would be the first time he had felt fear. The scent of it practically oozing out from even his own blood seeping into the dirt. He'd never felt like this before, even the night with the lions had left him unafraid. In pain yes, but never afraid. And all this was to save him? Save him from the angels. He was screaming, more out of anger than of the actual pain, and even now it sounded like the cries of a dying cub. Perhaps things never really did change.
Ren could see the drained look on Loki's face. His own Magik was killing him quicker than the Divine Weapon was. "I was only sent to strip you of your Magik and return you to an Angel but I think killing you will free your soul. I'm only doing this to protect you, Loki."
Loki looked up at him, smirk on his blood splattered face. "Go fuck yourself, Ren."
Ren glared at Loki and raised the Scythe, hoping Loki suffered but as the blade lowered, prepared to take a killing blow, Ren realized his mistake too late. The only reason Loki hadn't used his Magik against him was because he'd been saving it and as the blade connected with Loki, he was granted a mischievous smirk from Loki before he disappeared. As the Scythe stabbed into the ground, Ren found himself, also, smirking. He wouldn't have expected any less from his own twin. He supposed he could play his game.
He stumbled, hitting the wall and leaving a streak of red. The floor swayed and the darkness at the corners of his eyes was slowly taking over. He wouldn't be able to stay up right much longer. He knew she was here. He could always find her if he needed her. He struggled down the long hallway and finally, feel against the door at the end of the hall. There was only a few seconds before the door was thrown open and he found himself falling to the carpeted floor, pain lacing across his chest. "What the- Loki!" The sheer concern in her voice made his heart sputter. She did care. Maybe he had a chance at survival after all. He was being turned over, a fuzzy face looking down into his. "Who did this to you?!"
"I'm sorry, mother..." he whispered. "I've failed you..." A clear picture of Ren raising the scythe above him crossed his mind and he shivered at the look on Ren's face. Ren had completely lost himself in his hatred of him. There was nothing left in those eyes that suggested he felt a brotherly bond with him. Laying here on his mother's floor, bleeding out, Loki finally came to understand Ren's desire to kill him. This was no longer a game between the Reassured that Lilith would take care of him, Loki succumbed to the darkness.
And for a time he hated her, with every inch of animosity that his weakened body could afford. He hated how she had lied to him, told him that she could trust that...no...he couldn't even stand to call him a brother anymore. That traitor. But she had betrayed him as well. And even after he had been healed enough to move, for days there was silence. He was just angry at first. So blisteringly angry that he couldn't stand to see anyone. His vision burned in the darkened room as the shadows tended to his wound. And for awhile, he almost thought perhaps to pray to whatever thing would listen to a demon. But there is no such thing who offers monsters this sort of kindness. Until the tremble in his hand and the scream that lingers in his throat dissolve he wished to be left alone.
Not even his own mother is free from his contempt.
Then came the ache, a pain so raw that he was almost afraid someone has poisoned him. Like any second blood will leak from his mouth and pool in his open hands. His ribs ached like someone has carved guilty into his bones. The last vestige like a disease from the will of the weapon that had pierced his flesh. And that perhaps Ren might have been right to think that death would have been the best alternative. His chest had become a hollow depression. His heart, emaciated and starving. He could suffocate under his own grief, that perhaps all of this is his fault.
He did the only thing that he could do. When the darkness of his magic had wrapped him so tightly before it was even tighter now. As if it had taken on another form, splitting off from his flesh. The scars however would be lasting but he was lucky. If this was what luck was then he wanted nothing to do with it. He would leave nothing to chance anymore.
When he was finally able to walk from that room,the bed he had been sleeping in for weeks on end and suffering through the only thing in human history that deserved to be called a nightmare. He knew what work he would have to do. To replenish his magic, to fix what remained. Killing his brother hadn't even become an option yet, not in this state.
It was weeks before Loki even had the strength to move from the room he had been in while he was watched over by his mother and her attendants. Though he only knew one thing for certain, death had spared him for a reason. And if something didn't kill you it would only be back to kill you a second time. This was no longer some game that was to be shared between them as brother's.
All the time he had spent in the care of his mother, the runt of the litter recovering from more than just the physical scars. The bond they had forged between them, mother and son was strong, a sort of complex had arisen in him that had only added fuel to the fire. The angels had thought to kill him by using his brother, but they had made a miscalculation. He had survived. And his survival in-turn made them responsible for creating this monster.
Though it would still be some time before he would venture out from the care of his mother. The injury, though healed still burned in his gut, despite the injury now just a scar. He knew he wasn't ready, and though his shadows had returned their strength was not what it had been.
In an effort to regain their power, he himself fought against them creating figments from his own hatred. He was a failure, a disappointment but he would never allow himself to be those things again. He would spend hours, fighting in the dark against enemies he himself would create forcing himself to exhaust every bit of his energy, often times setting back his recovery from his injuries.
Eventually however, he would understand that it was time to move on, and he knew exactly where he was headed.
It was a pity really killing what was obviously his father's work but he needed easy prey, and nothing was easier for someone like Jack the Ripper. He and his shadows tore the women apart, but he couldn't stop there. No he had to continue. When his internment in the British Isles had finished he was headed to the 'New World'. He would bring his terror there under a new name, and build one of the greatest legends known to the Americans.
His name now was H.H Holmes. And he was going to bring about a terror the American's had not yet experienced. In some distant effort to reconnect with some childhood fancy the hotel would become one of the strangest constructs on American soil, a death trap, a machine for the ages. From the shadows he would operate, taking as many as 200 lives inside the infamous 'hotel'. Though he's not sure, somewhere along the way feeding into the magic he'd lost count.
These were not the only murders he would commit thinking to feed his power, the shadow that to him had gained a more tangible quality than ever before. He would do as he always had, terror and death, chaos and the absolute certainty that someday he and his brother would meet again, to complete their little danse macabre.
In a way he had. And he was lucky he had gotten away. But this would be the first time he had felt fear. The scent of it practically oozing out from even his own blood seeping into the dirt. He'd never felt like this before, even the night with the lions had left him unafraid. In pain yes, but never afraid. And all this was to save him? Save him from the angels. He was screaming, more out of anger than of the actual pain, and even now it sounded like the cries of a dying cub. Perhaps things never really did change.
Ren could see the drained look on Loki's face. His own Magik was killing him quicker than the Divine Weapon was. "I was only sent to strip you of your Magik and return you to an Angel but I think killing you will free your soul. I'm only doing this to protect you, Loki."
Loki looked up at him, smirk on his blood splattered face. "Go fuck yourself, Ren."
Ren glared at Loki and raised the Scythe, hoping Loki suffered but as the blade lowered, prepared to take a killing blow, Ren realized his mistake too late. The only reason Loki hadn't used his Magik against him was because he'd been saving it and as the blade connected with Loki, he was granted a mischievous smirk from Loki before he disappeared. As the Scythe stabbed into the ground, Ren found himself, also, smirking. He wouldn't have expected any less from his own twin. He supposed he could play his game.
DIE ANOTHER DAY
"I'm sorry, mother..." he whispered. "I've failed you..." A clear picture of Ren raising the scythe above him crossed his mind and he shivered at the look on Ren's face. Ren had completely lost himself in his hatred of him. There was nothing left in those eyes that suggested he felt a brotherly bond with him. Laying here on his mother's floor, bleeding out, Loki finally came to understand Ren's desire to kill him. This was no longer a game between the Reassured that Lilith would take care of him, Loki succumbed to the darkness.
And for a time he hated her, with every inch of animosity that his weakened body could afford. He hated how she had lied to him, told him that she could trust that...no...he couldn't even stand to call him a brother anymore. That traitor. But she had betrayed him as well. And even after he had been healed enough to move, for days there was silence. He was just angry at first. So blisteringly angry that he couldn't stand to see anyone. His vision burned in the darkened room as the shadows tended to his wound. And for awhile, he almost thought perhaps to pray to whatever thing would listen to a demon. But there is no such thing who offers monsters this sort of kindness. Until the tremble in his hand and the scream that lingers in his throat dissolve he wished to be left alone.
Not even his own mother is free from his contempt.
Then came the ache, a pain so raw that he was almost afraid someone has poisoned him. Like any second blood will leak from his mouth and pool in his open hands. His ribs ached like someone has carved guilty into his bones. The last vestige like a disease from the will of the weapon that had pierced his flesh. And that perhaps Ren might have been right to think that death would have been the best alternative. His chest had become a hollow depression. His heart, emaciated and starving. He could suffocate under his own grief, that perhaps all of this is his fault.
He did the only thing that he could do. When the darkness of his magic had wrapped him so tightly before it was even tighter now. As if it had taken on another form, splitting off from his flesh. The scars however would be lasting but he was lucky. If this was what luck was then he wanted nothing to do with it. He would leave nothing to chance anymore.
When he was finally able to walk from that room,the bed he had been sleeping in for weeks on end and suffering through the only thing in human history that deserved to be called a nightmare. He knew what work he would have to do. To replenish his magic, to fix what remained. Killing his brother hadn't even become an option yet, not in this state.
A SON WILL ONLY EVER LIVE TO BE A DISAPPOINTMENT
It was weeks before Loki even had the strength to move from the room he had been in while he was watched over by his mother and her attendants. Though he only knew one thing for certain, death had spared him for a reason. And if something didn't kill you it would only be back to kill you a second time. This was no longer some game that was to be shared between them as brother's.
All the time he had spent in the care of his mother, the runt of the litter recovering from more than just the physical scars. The bond they had forged between them, mother and son was strong, a sort of complex had arisen in him that had only added fuel to the fire. The angels had thought to kill him by using his brother, but they had made a miscalculation. He had survived. And his survival in-turn made them responsible for creating this monster.
Though it would still be some time before he would venture out from the care of his mother. The injury, though healed still burned in his gut, despite the injury now just a scar. He knew he wasn't ready, and though his shadows had returned their strength was not what it had been.
In an effort to regain their power, he himself fought against them creating figments from his own hatred. He was a failure, a disappointment but he would never allow himself to be those things again. He would spend hours, fighting in the dark against enemies he himself would create forcing himself to exhaust every bit of his energy, often times setting back his recovery from his injuries.
Eventually however, he would understand that it was time to move on, and he knew exactly where he was headed.
It was a pity really killing what was obviously his father's work but he needed easy prey, and nothing was easier for someone like Jack the Ripper. He and his shadows tore the women apart, but he couldn't stop there. No he had to continue. When his internment in the British Isles had finished he was headed to the 'New World'. He would bring his terror there under a new name, and build one of the greatest legends known to the Americans.
His name now was H.H Holmes. And he was going to bring about a terror the American's had not yet experienced. In some distant effort to reconnect with some childhood fancy the hotel would become one of the strangest constructs on American soil, a death trap, a machine for the ages. From the shadows he would operate, taking as many as 200 lives inside the infamous 'hotel'. Though he's not sure, somewhere along the way feeding into the magic he'd lost count.
These were not the only murders he would commit thinking to feed his power, the shadow that to him had gained a more tangible quality than ever before. He would do as he always had, terror and death, chaos and the absolute certainty that someday he and his brother would meet again, to complete their little danse macabre.
THE MANHATTAN PROJECT
His first real announcement, his return to the world marked a new age of chaos. The stakes had never been higher as the humans who could barely get their little pea brains wrapped around the concept of a wheel being round were now thinking of bigger, better things. He liked the sound of that word, 'atomic'. The biggest explosions, the deadliest fallout. Their wars had gotten violent, their crisis edging ever closer to the end. Who gave a damn what would happen in the end none of it mattered to Loki, now working in the desert under the nose of the American Government. With their father now hiding only hell knows where now really wasn't the time to think about angels that might be lurking, or even the brother he had long since worked out of his life. For the first time in a good long while he felt great. He felt back to normal.
He finally felt pride in something, and that in itself was a dangerous thing.
War itself had often been the vehicle for his antics, though long gone were the times when Greek fire was the most hostile invention of the age. No, this was only going to be the beginning, chemical and radioactive weaponry were the new agents to add into his arsenal. And why stop with this little project? Blowing things up in the desert was just the tip of the iceberg. Why, when those bombs dropped on Japan, when the Soviets after the crisis in Cuba and the world was on its edge, when North Korea, when Iran and the Israelis..it didn't matter who in the end it only mattered that the world kept on turning.
What a time to be alive this was, and to think if he hadn't gotten away all those years ago he would have missed the very best.
But the best, as they say was yet to come.
GIVE A MAN A FIRE AND HE'S WARM FOR A DAY
SET A MAN ON FIRE AND HE'S WARM FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE
In the end, something had to be said about having a near death experience. It certainly put him on the fast track to something grand. In one way or another he was eventually going to have to thank Ren for nearly ending his pathetic sniveling existence. But wow was he back on the map again. Doing his own thing, jiving to his own grove just staying out of his brother's way...until the time was right. The world around them both had changed, and now Loki finally felt that he had not just a chance, but a sure fire victory in his pocket when it came to his brother. It had all come down to this. And now all he had to do was find him. In the mean time however, funding for this sort of thing was rather hard to come by. So he did what he knew best, and that was getting back into the seat of business. Selling weapons, secrets and gadgets was the easy thing to do. Inventive as he was, and with torment coming so natural to him it's not like it had ever been hard.
The newest operation however was something of a sort of curve ball.
During a deal, a client had asked if his human assistant, a young girl no older than twenty five, was for sale. The client had probably meant the idea as a joke but Loki found himself fascinated with the idea of selling a human being to another human being. Especially when the human being was a young girl who put all her fight into not being sold. It was then he found his second job; human trafficking. From time to time, he took money offered to him to help smuggle people over borders but his most profit came from selling young girls to crime bosses for sex slaves, drug dealers or as wives to high ranking princes. He supposed it was the human suffering that intrigued him the most. It was probably also the main reason he kept the woman as his pet, much to her own tantrums. It was because of these "tantrums" he kept her around. He enjoyed controlling every aspect of her life.
So far, he'd kept to his promise, of keeping her close by. Where ever he was, she went with him. But he wasn't giving her the satisfaction of staying in the shadows. No, when he went anywhere, he made her dress up and loop her arm through his as they walked. Vegas was home to the ritzy and the best way he'd found to blend in was by showing off his own wealth and dragged her with him. One, because she was kept well in sight and two, she was the only one who didn't cower in fear around him. Her spitfire was well appreciated. It promised her that he wouldn't grow bored of her and throw her away. Tonight was just one of those grand events he was going to be attending but instead of a public's eye view, he was going behind the curtain, into his own black world. Nonetheless, he had a dress sent up to her room and her own personal hairdresser. Whether she decided to wear it or not, he had her meet him at seven in the hotel lobby before they got into a limo and pulled up in front of one of many casinos on the Strip. Up front, it was just that, a casino but Loki had his business established behind the scenes of the casino and their small group was granted access into a private elevator and taken to the higher floors. It was there, he introduced her to his main office. It wasn't an office you'd think when you picture an "office" but it was where Loki conducted most of his business. There were plenty of conference rooms and even one room with a raised dias and one sided windows surrounding the room where clients could "bid" on the girls Loki produced. Tonight, however, his business was strictly Arms. Of course, he kept no actual "merchandise" within the casino itself but on offsite locations but that didn't mean he didn't have a list of them all sitting around.
He swung open a pair of double doors and walked into a rather spacious "office" complete with the entire view of the main Strip. Different colored lights reflected on every surface from the casinos and hotels that surrounded the building and a merry fire flickered in the fireplace on the far wall. It was a rather contemporary office complete with nude statues and random abstract paintings. Loki hated the boringness of this office so much, he tended to spend as less time in it as he could. He clapped his hands and the lights flickered on and screens built into the windows, flickered closed, closing out the Strip from the office. "Sit." he told her, the office doors closing behind them. "And don't touch anything." Tonight he looked rather dashing in a suit and it was quite possible to see him as nothing more than a human the way he laughed along with the staff and guests and even partook of the free wine and appetizers but looks could always be deceiving. All he needed to do was move his arm a certain way and shadows would be available at his every beck and call. Unless you were trained to see them, they were certainly hard to see hiding in the folds of his suit or following behind him.
The newest operation however was something of a sort of curve ball.
During a deal, a client had asked if his human assistant, a young girl no older than twenty five, was for sale. The client had probably meant the idea as a joke but Loki found himself fascinated with the idea of selling a human being to another human being. Especially when the human being was a young girl who put all her fight into not being sold. It was then he found his second job; human trafficking. From time to time, he took money offered to him to help smuggle people over borders but his most profit came from selling young girls to crime bosses for sex slaves, drug dealers or as wives to high ranking princes. He supposed it was the human suffering that intrigued him the most. It was probably also the main reason he kept the woman as his pet, much to her own tantrums. It was because of these "tantrums" he kept her around. He enjoyed controlling every aspect of her life.
So far, he'd kept to his promise, of keeping her close by. Where ever he was, she went with him. But he wasn't giving her the satisfaction of staying in the shadows. No, when he went anywhere, he made her dress up and loop her arm through his as they walked. Vegas was home to the ritzy and the best way he'd found to blend in was by showing off his own wealth and dragged her with him. One, because she was kept well in sight and two, she was the only one who didn't cower in fear around him. Her spitfire was well appreciated. It promised her that he wouldn't grow bored of her and throw her away. Tonight was just one of those grand events he was going to be attending but instead of a public's eye view, he was going behind the curtain, into his own black world. Nonetheless, he had a dress sent up to her room and her own personal hairdresser. Whether she decided to wear it or not, he had her meet him at seven in the hotel lobby before they got into a limo and pulled up in front of one of many casinos on the Strip. Up front, it was just that, a casino but Loki had his business established behind the scenes of the casino and their small group was granted access into a private elevator and taken to the higher floors. It was there, he introduced her to his main office. It wasn't an office you'd think when you picture an "office" but it was where Loki conducted most of his business. There were plenty of conference rooms and even one room with a raised dias and one sided windows surrounding the room where clients could "bid" on the girls Loki produced. Tonight, however, his business was strictly Arms. Of course, he kept no actual "merchandise" within the casino itself but on offsite locations but that didn't mean he didn't have a list of them all sitting around.
He swung open a pair of double doors and walked into a rather spacious "office" complete with the entire view of the main Strip. Different colored lights reflected on every surface from the casinos and hotels that surrounded the building and a merry fire flickered in the fireplace on the far wall. It was a rather contemporary office complete with nude statues and random abstract paintings. Loki hated the boringness of this office so much, he tended to spend as less time in it as he could. He clapped his hands and the lights flickered on and screens built into the windows, flickered closed, closing out the Strip from the office. "Sit." he told her, the office doors closing behind them. "And don't touch anything." Tonight he looked rather dashing in a suit and it was quite possible to see him as nothing more than a human the way he laughed along with the staff and guests and even partook of the free wine and appetizers but looks could always be deceiving. All he needed to do was move his arm a certain way and shadows would be available at his every beck and call. Unless you were trained to see them, they were certainly hard to see hiding in the folds of his suit or following behind him.
* italics written by Leto
YEARS ROLEPLAYED: 10
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