Meet the Parents
Of all the doors Archangel expected to knock on, the well-hidden flat of Loki Laufeyson was certainly not high on the list. And to his credit, of all the people the god of mischief expected to knock on his door, Archangel wasn’t one of them.
Largely because he kept his home a secret, but apparently the demonic bureaucrat and his half-dead lackey had resources. The Asgardian frowned as he looked down at the dark-haired young man, and he visibly debated shutting the door... or throwing a knife. Usually seeing Archangel meant something bad was about to happen. The silence was... tense.
“...I’m not here for trouble,” Carter started, looking up into green eyes easily. “I wanted to talk about Icaris. So please put the knife down.”
“Knife? What knife?” Said fairly half-heartedly as Loki opened the door a little wider-- and the knife curled behind his back vanished. Or at least it looked like it did. “...If you’re here to ask for her hand in marriage, Archangel, I will have you know I'm old but not archaic in values...”
“...A little early for that, I think. No, I, er... had some questions to ask. About her...”
“Lineage.”
“Sure.” Carter stepped in as the Asgardian moved back, following the taller man into a well decorated living room. He took a seat as requested, and might have jumped a little bit as a cup of tea all but appeared in front of him on the table. He wasn’t used to magic tricks. But with a skeptical look he carefully took it, easing it to his lips. “...I spoke to her recently about her direct family. They were... killed. Not an accident.”
“Aye,” Loki’s eyelids lowered, “a tragedy, truly. She joined your troupe for closure in an investigation, yes? And how has that gone thus far?”
A jab fairly pointed, yes, but at least it was out of concern for Icaris. That was a strange comfort, for all that Archangel bristled a touch. “That was actually what I wanted to talk to you about. ...It’s a cold case, and there was virtually no evidence left behind. Our means are, uh... mortal, I guess. Yours, hypothetically...”
“I am a god, boy. Not a PI.”
“You’re good at knowing things that people shouldn’t know,” Carter countered fairly quickly. “She... said it had something to do with what they were. Lycans. I think they might have been targeted for that, and... well, you’d know more than I do, and you can find out more than I can.”
Loki went quiet for a moment as he folded one leg over the other, the tea he’d conjured into his own hand fairly still as he thought it over. There was something pensive there, but something curious, and most of all something protective.
Carter saw it. His voice was careful. “...It would mean a lot to her to finally get that closure. I know you care about her just like I do, even though you like to act like you don’t.”
The silence carried on for a few moments as Loki fixed that blue-eyed gaze, summing the boy up. This went far over his little head, and at least he was wise enough to not care for his own pride in the face of that. It was almost admirable.
“...I can see what I can dig up, yes. But hold no expectations for me, Archangel.”
“I won’t,” he sighed gently. “I just want her to... be able to sleep a little better.”
And Loki went quiet at that. Something shifted in the bottom of his throat, something that made him uneasy.
Empathy?
Maybe an omen.
