He would have hit Loki in that moment. The impulse was in his blood and in his muscles; his fist was so tight he’d probably have hurt himself with the punch.
Even! As if the two could ever be even. Laura, killed in a car accident, brought to animation by Mad Sweeny’s coin only to suffer more as a corpse- a mortal life cut short, tormented, and then ended again. How could that even begin to compare to Loki who lay there even now under Shadow’s hand and taunted him with the truth of Shadow’s sad parentage?
He would have hit him, but suddenly Brenda was at Shadow’s side, demanding Loki’s release. She had a knife too. Shadow wondered blearily who she really was, what goddess of what pantheon, to carry such knives and to value Loki’s life so.
He backed off of Loki slowly, realizing after a moment that he still held the god’s shirt in his hand and letting go, causing Loki to fall back to the floor with a thump.
“You killed her,” he said slowly, thickly, to Loki, his voice sticking in a tightening throat, “so that you and Wednesday could use me at your whim for your own selfish gains. Even if you had stayed dead you would never be even.”
He turned abruptly, a muttering a soft “sorry, Brenda” as he left, brushing past Bast who still stood in the room. He noted her skirt, tried to give her a smile, and failed.
In the hallway he broke into a jog and didn’t stop until he was far out on the manor grounds.
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Even! As if the two could ever be even. Laura, killed in a car accident, brought to animation by Mad Sweeny’s coin only to suffer more as a corpse- a mortal life cut short, tormented, and then ended again. How could that even begin to compare to Loki who lay there even now under Shadow’s hand and taunted him with the truth of Shadow’s sad parentage?
He would have hit him, but suddenly Brenda was at Shadow’s side, demanding Loki’s release. She had a knife too. Shadow wondered blearily who she really was, what goddess of what pantheon, to carry such knives and to value Loki’s life so.
He backed off of Loki slowly, realizing after a moment that he still held the god’s shirt in his hand and letting go, causing Loki to fall back to the floor with a thump.
“You killed her,” he said slowly, thickly, to Loki, his voice sticking in a tightening throat, “so that you and Wednesday could use me at your whim for your own selfish gains. Even if you had stayed dead you would never be even.”
He turned abruptly, a muttering a soft “sorry, Brenda” as he left, brushing past Bast who still stood in the room. He noted her skirt, tried to give her a smile, and failed.
In the hallway he broke into a jog and didn’t stop until he was far out on the manor grounds.