Catalyst: thebenefitsofdestruction ((Closed))
Boredom was a state, regrettably, that Loki had grown all too familiar with during his imprisonment.
And now, though he'd been gifted the freedom of this World to enjoy, he found it haunted him still. For where else would he find that which would intrigue him if not here in this great Tower, this bastion of mortal innovation?
Where else, if not here, would he find those that knew him and yet feared him not, or minds elevated enough from the masses that comprised Midgard's dreary population that he could converse with them, and not find himself even more wearied by the very exercise?
Thor, though he did make endearing attempts, was not able to assist him, in this regard. Though his brother was most certainly not slow, or ill of wit as Loki himself had insinuated whenever annoyed, he was still no scholar, no sage or sorcerer that might engage him as his mind so craved.
The daily penance of his casting already dispatched, Loki found himself at loose ends this night. It seemed that the Tower was virtually deserted, even his brother absent on some fool's quest or another, presumably at the order of the fierce one-eyed dictator that ran the lives of those he called companions.
In fact, when he reached out with the intangible seeking press of his seiðr, the only life within he found was that of the Man of Iron, enclosed within his laboratory, barred from within and without with strange bonds of metal, glass and light.
Which, of course, offered him a challenge, and to a god suffering so very tiresomely from boredom, it was almost an afterthought that he would pursue it.
It did, to the mortal's credit, take him more than a few moments to solve the puzzles without cheating, even so easily as he could have shifted himself within, and he heard the man's automaton speak as he finally swept inside, but paid it no mind, his eyes flicking about with every evidence of interest.
Because however alien the devices, or how foreign the glimmer of light and word upon the very air might have been, Loki could only perceive it as what it was. A place for inspiration, for creation itself. Where the mind was given berth to run free, and revelation was as expected as drawing breath.
The spiritual servant had drawn Stark's attention to him, now, and Loki smirked as he paused near the doorway, his expression blandly curious, though in truth, he was far more than just curious of the man who stood before him. He could already feel himself adjusting to the subtle shift of another game beginning, and this time, he allowed it free rein.
"I would apologize for the intrusion, had I any remorse," Loki announced, his slight smile still firmly in place, "but I think that you and I, at least, need not have any such contrivance between us."