✒ @smolderingfire ✒
It hadn’t been difficult to trace Thor’s path across the greater universe. If there was one thing the thunder god wasn’t known for, it was subtlety. Stowing away on great starcruisers and hitching rides from the easily swindled, Loki didn’t have to look far to find rumors of his brother’s latest exploits. Even from light-years away, Thor seemed to have a gravity about him. Perhaps it would’ve been more difficult to stay outside of the god’s orbit.
As Loki traveled, a dreadful thought occurred: what if Thor wouldn’t recognize him? If he did recognize Loki, would he believe his brother to be alive again? There were plenty of beings in the Nine Realms that could’ve disguised themselves as another; there were doubtlessly more in the cosmos beyond. He had neither the memories nor magics of his previous life, with which he could easily prove his identity. What would prevent Thor from simply smiting Loki, believing (not unreasonably) that someone had come to manipulate him through his grief?
A conclusion was reached: Loki could not simply introduce himself to Thor, that would not do at all. He would need to approach Thor in such a way that would leave no doubt in his brother’s mind. He would need to do something that was entirely, unambiguously Loki.
And what was more Loki than a bit of mischief?
Loki crept aboard Thor’s ship under the cover of night. Whatever sensors the ship had for security glanced over the godling, his presence shrouded from digital eyes by a nifty little gadget he had stolen borrowed.
Slipping into Thor’s quarters, Loki silently retrieved a pair of scissors from a pouch on his waist. It gleamed in the darkness, wicked and sharp. Shearing another god’s golden locks while they slept was a classic trick, one previously enjoyed by the Loki That Was and Sif.
Trembling slightly, the scissors began to slowly inch towards Thor’s head. This was to be a delicate procedure.
