2014-07-20 Do Gods Brofist?
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: Contains the best idea ever.
2014-07-20
Players: Surge Loki Aura
GMed by None.
Title: Do Gods Brofist?

Stupid cops, loitering outside. Drake is probably being overly cautious about things, but there's the off-chance that a security camera caught a look at him during one of his heists. So avoidance is the best policy, at least for now. And to that end, Drake's found himself somewhere that holds absolutely no interest to him: a bookstore.

Pretending to be interested in a hardback book is harder work than he'd expected. It has some flowery title and promises grand adventure, but all Drake sees is a lot of unmoving, bland text. Snore. But for the sake of playing the part of an oh-so-avid bookreader, he plucks the copy from the shelf and opens to a random page, making a grand showing of flitting his gaze along the words mechanically. He's not even processing the words. His mind is elsewhere completely. To be specific, the people he's met at the mansion, and how he's fitting in; an entirely more interesting topic.

Loki is lurking around the mall. He hasn't really been inside a place like this before, so the sights and sounds are practically sensory overload to the young god of Mischief. He may look like he's in his 20s, but he wears his leather armor which makes him look a bit anachronistic.

The Bookstore catches his eye and he drifts inside, emerald eyes wide as he picks up one book and looks at it, then another. His expression turns to a bit of disgust as he notices they don't have that classic book smell and stuffs it back on the shelf. His route takes him past Drake, bumping into him as his own mind is elsewhere.

Such an interesting new environment, Drake's landed in. Everything from not hiding his powers to being acc-

*bump*

Jostled out of his train of thought, a pair of more youthful emerald greens lift to catch Loki drifting past. Letting it slide, he looks back to the book to resume his facade. …And he promptly doubletakes at the man's attire.

"Y'know," starts Drake in his typical chummy manner, "I like to think I'm up to speed on most of the cosplay trends, but yours… I don't think I follow."

"I have no interest in Midgardian fashion, mortal." Loki says irritably. He was doing so well at being a good little Avenger, but now he just seems to be in terminal bitch mode. Turning to face Drake, he looks him over. "My attire is Asgardian. It is my common armor. As a member of the royal family, we must keep up appearances."

That was definitely not the answer Drake was expecting, and this little fact is clearly written on his face. When Loki turns to him, he'll be met with a confused, if ever-so-slight tilt of his head. A few of those bangs waft a little further over his right eye. The taller male is given a scrutinizing once over as well before the teen's eyes light up.

"No waaaay!," he drawls, excitement clearly building. "You're.. you're Loki, aren't you? Man, for real?"

Loki smirks wryly, nodding. "Indeed I am. How interesting it is that you recognize me. You must be one of the few intelligent mortals I have met." He seems to be striking a pose with his hands on his hips. "I am Loki. Who are you? I can always use a few more acolytes!"
"Pay attention to what's being said around you, and you can put some pieces together pretty easily." Drake glances aside only long enough to slide the book he was pretending to read back into the bookshelf. "Someone said they ran into you - the actual Loki. Then someone else said they ran into Thor and described him. Find someone who talks about Asgard'n stuff, who doesn't fit Thor's description…" He trails as he turns his gaze back to Loki, smiling brightly. "You see where I'm going with this. Anyway, what the heck are you doing in a bookstore like this?"

"Indeeeeeed." Loki says in his silky smooth voice, "My brother is not as familiar with this realm as I am. I can visit a library if I so desire. I do what I want. I have been learning to read the human language called English. You still have not identified yourself. I do not like to be left at a disadvantage when it comes to knowing the idenity of those with whom I am speaking."

"Yeah, but… why?," asks Drake bluntly. There's no suspicion behind those eyes, no subtext to be found in his voice. He's authentically curious what a deity (by human understanding, at least!) would be doing scoping out a bookstore.

But then Loki points out how rude he's being. The teen's eyes widen substantially. "Oh! Sorry! Hah, wow, manners. Name's Drake. Mind's, y'know, going a mile a minute," he admits, demonstrating with an animated twiddle of his fingers near his temple. That hand then balls into a fist and points out towards Loki.

Do gods brofist?

Loki looks at the fist and frowns, looking at Drake. He narrows his eyes and suddenly vanishes, appearing behind Drake and pushing him into a shelf. "How dare you threaten a son of Odin?" He says, stomping toward the young man menacingly.
Drake extended a fist in brohood, thus vanquishing the God of Mischief. At least, that's how it appears to a very perplexed teen. But no worries, this misconception is cleared up rather quickly by a sudden force shoving him against a shelf. Depending on the weight of said shelf, it could very well fall, toppling so many books along with Drake's hopes of remaining unnoticed by the cops outside. Either way, the mutant has lost his footing and finds himself staring up at a cheesed off Asgardian. -Ish.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!," he protests, hands lifting with palms out. "What- what're you talking about? I didn't- I mean.. are you talking about the this thing?" He indicates by balling a fist and holding it out. "That's not what this is about! I'll show ya, just- just take it easy!"

Loki stands over the teen with one of his small ornate throwing daggers clutched between his fingers, the pointed end between his index and middle fingers. "What is the meaning of that gesture if not to indicate harm? One does not show force if they do not mean to fight!" The employees are looking at him, calling security. He looks up at them with an expression that indicates they will be reduced to subatomic particles as soon as he's done with Drake.
"Nono, just.. easy does it, 'kay?," soothes Drake. He shifts to his knees, then starts to lift to his full height again at a slow, deliberate pace. Harmless, see? No sudden movements here! Keeping his right hand as a fist, he motions carefully with the left, "Make a fist. Just a fist, alright? No one wants to throw down here today…"

Loki tilts his head to the side as he keeps his eyes locked on Drake as he stands up. Loki's fingers curl into a fist, his knuckles cracking dramatically. "Stop speaking in Midgardian terms! Why must you always speak in terms that make no sense?!" He is high strung but not threatening to turn Drake into paste, at least. The police are getting closer, weapons at the ready.
Drake glances furtively to the cops, brow knitting in worry. That's the last thing he needs. But maybe he can dissolve the situation before it gets any worse. The eyes flit back to Loki. "I, uh, I dunno what you mean by that, but just… it's cool, man, it's cool," he continues to soothe. "Now, here's what I was gonna do." Beat. "No attacking or nothin', just.. watch."

And true to his word, Drake does not throw a punch at Loki. Instead, he just eases his fist closer. Closer. Dap. Knuckles bump, and should terrible mishap not occur, the fist withdraws slowly and smoothly.
Loki keeps an intense gaze locked on Drake, but does curl his fingers into a fist, watching him carefully as he touches it. "I see." Is his reply. "This is yet another Midgardian greeting method?" He looks at his fist and moves it outward as if to try it. "Interesting." He turns to look over his shoulder as the police arrive and start spewing words that he barely understands at him in a threatening manner. "I think it may be time to leave."

Drake keeps his fist in place, letting the contact repeat. "It.. maybe?," he chances, fuzzy on the whole 'Midgardian' angle. "It's something people do - cool people. Like a greeting, yeah, or a highfive." A thought occurs. "Has anyone shown you that one?"

But those cops move in, distracting Drake from his assumed emissarial duties. He quickly maneuvers in between Loki and the cops, hands raising in a halting manner. "Easy, guys, easy, it's cool! Just a misunderstanding! He's…" Drake glances over his shoulder. "…Foreign."

"Yes, I suppose I am," Loki says, locking eyes with the officer holding the gun. "You wouldn't want to hurt an innocent teenager now, would you?" The officer seems to fall under Loki's command, and lowers his weapon. One of the others is trying to placate and hold back the ranting bookstore employees, and the third has her hand on another weapon. He holds out a hand toward Drake, indicating he should take it. if he wants to live, that is. Or not go to jail. "That's it…nobody needs to be hurt."
"See? Everything's good. We're settled, we're…" The ranting employees are given a guilty look. "..mostly settled, okay, but still. No problems here." That hand is noted, but Drake isn't entirely sure why it's being offered. Holding hands with a dude isn't something he's done much in the past, but if that'll help demonstrate how harmless ol' Loki is…

The hand is taken.

"No problems here."

Loki's hand clamps down and pulls Drake toward him, holding out a hand. The female policeman draws and fires, but the weapon doesn't fire bullets, it fires small probes that find their way into one of the lesser protective parts of his armor. The trickster emits a grunt, but pulls Drake back and disappears.

The journey through the spaces between spaces seems like an eternity but in reality is only a split second as they arrive outside the mall. Loki grabs the wires connected to the probes and tears them away, dropping down to one knee. He seems winded but otherwise fine.
"No don't-"

Too late. Police have fired what Drake immediately assumes to be a taser. And then, things go strange.

When the world reforms around him, the teen is wobbling on his feet, gaze unsteady. But once his mind catches up to the here and now, he realizes Loki has taken a knee. Turning to him, he crouches down and tilts his head, attempting to get a good look at his face. "Y'okay? They shouldn't have… y'hurt?"

"No, I'm not hurt. Electric shock always seems to take something out of me." he smiles and rises to his feet. "Thor discovered that he could conjure lightning with Mjolnir and win if we were sparring. Are you injured in any way? I don't know where the healing rooms are around here. I believe you call them hospitals? Now that we are outside of danger, where would you like to go now?"
"I, uh, no, I'm good." When Loki stands, Drake follows suit. The mention of electricity merits a bemused grin, but he quickly pushes it away. "For what it's worth, you tanked that shock like a pro." The matter of where to go, however, is something else entirely. He can't just reveal he's at the mansion, can he? He can't afford to be /that/ trusting, even to a deity who, let's be honest, just pulled him out of a dicy situation.

Sure, Loki's sort of responsible for the situation, but who's counting?

"To be honest, I was just looking to expand my wardrobe a little. But…" His arms fold over his chest as he considers their options. "…The park. You know where the park is?" In an outfit like that, maybe citizens will mistake him for a LARPer!

Loki knows about the Xavier Institute and has plagued its halls many times. "The park. The one in New York?" He looks around then nods, reaching out to grab Drake by the arm again and POOF.

They arrive in Central Park near a hot dog vendor. Does Loki know this particular section of the park because he likes hot dogs? Indeed he does. "Would you care for something to eat?" He asks, approaching the hot dog vendor as he fishes in the folds of his armor for some money.

"Yeah, tha-"

Shoomp. Off they go.

When they reappear, Drake loses his footing and plops onto the ground in a daze. His hand touch his brow in a physical effort to stop his head from spinning, which seems to have moderate success. His mind catches up again in time to hear the offer of food, and he takes in the nearby vendor. "Wh-… no, thanks. I think a part of me is still chasing us here…" Thumb and forefinger rub along his eyes for a moment, not even bothering to get back up just yet.

"Outt'a curiosity, what would bring a Norse deity out here?"

Loki offers a slender hand to help him up once he finds his change. "It is another realm, the only realm that we were forbidden to visit. I came here by accident one day and have taken a liking to its strange and exotic people and customs. It is the only realm where we don't know anything about its residents other than that they are mortal. We know Jotunheim, Muspelheim, Alfheim and all the others because they are connected to us by portals and pathways. But Midgard…Midgard was always a realm shrouded in mystery."
"And Midgard…," says Drake after taking the hand and hauling himself up, "…that's what you call this place? Earth?" He takes the lapels of his dress shirt, tugging the garment more into place once he's upright and stable. "Well, we definitely do talk a bit different…"

"You were allowed to develop without interference. The lonely realm, all by itself worshipping gods they will never truly know." He approaches the vendor and orders a chili dog with onions and relish of all things. "Are you certain you would not like one?" He asks as he pays for his. "We do not have food so readily available. One might cease to be able to fit into their armor if we did have such things."
"Welcome to America, Loki. Best food on the planet and leader in obesity. Coincidence?" Drake offers a cheeky smile, then shakes his head. There's something innately uncomfortable about accepting donation from a deity. It's weird. "So if it's forbidden to be here, what brings you by? Don't care for the shackles of society?," he muses.

"I am Loki." He says, then takes a bite of his hot dog. "Rebellion is in my nature. I have permission to be here now, however. I even joined one of the groups of mortals with abilities beyond that of normal mortals called the Avengers. It has been quite interesting, but they do not trust me. I understand why, but it would be nice if they would trust me once in a while."
"Got somethin' to do with a big green smashmonster?," Drake asks with a glib little grin. He'd heard Loki may have had something to do with Hulk going… well, Hulk, out at a club. "Anyway, seems like you've played it straight with me so far. Got no reason to not trust ya. 'Cept you got that whole… 'god of mischief' title going. Might make some folks suspicious."

"Oh yes, Banner. He does not like me, nor does Clint. I have created my share of chaos for the people of Midgard, but why would anyone expect anything different?" Loki grins and bites his hot dog again, musing. Once he's swallowed, he points out into the park. "People are surrounded by chaos every day and think nothing of it. But when I create something from it, they get upset and try to shoot me."
"Heck of a world," playfully contributes the teen. His hands stuff into his pockets, entirely too casual for the scenario at present. "People deal with stuff all the time, you're right. But they're just things that sort'a… happen. When it looks like it's caused by someone in particular, though? Then you give'em a target to point all that frustration. See what I'm sayin'?"

"I suppose. If you ask me, your people have it easy. You are not constantly under threat of invasion from Svartalfheim or have Jotuns trying to break through the barriers between worlds, or have to venture through the burning wastelands of Muspelheim to crawl upon a giant turtle's back to harvest herbs." Loki sighs quietly, his shoulders falling for a moment. "You live for yourselves, not for your realm. You have no greater responsibilities other than to maintain your own lives."
Drake blinks slowly. "Well, we do have wars here on Earth. And there's always the risk of blowing ourselves up. Nuclear bombs'n all that. But I get what you're saying." Kind of. His extent of said understanding is demonstrated in the slow, tentative question that follows:

"…turtles? Really?"

"Yes." Loki says, giving Drake a look. "They are the size of a small island and dwell in the lava rivers of Muspelheim. I cannot tolerate the heat as my brothers can, I can only spend a short time in such heat before I must quickly escape." He deposits his napkin and remains of his hot dog into a trash bin and moves his hands in front of him, conjuring a small illusion showing the lava river and one of the giant turtles ambling along, humming their strange songs. "They are docile creatures, rather interesting. I would take one back to the palace with me, but that would be frowned upon."
"Cuz they're so big?," asks Drake bluntly, his emerald greens glued to the illusion. It's like a movie, only not!

"Yes. While the throne room is large enough to fit almost all the citizens of the city within its walls, a giant fire turtle would most likely not find a good home there." Loki looks around and sighs again. "I wonder if I made the right decision to go against my nature and be…good."

The offhand comment catches Drake by surprise. "Well… it's a lot less lonely than bein' bad, right?," he posits. "To be honest with ya, I'm… kind've making that transition, myself."

"I suppose." Loki says, starting to wander down the sidewalk. "I am lonely enough considering who and what I am…but all the legends say I am the god of evil. It's very hard not to go down that path."
"Now, hold on," Drake says as he paces along after him. His hands link innocently behind his back, lending more to a youthful appearance. "I never heard that particular one, myself. And people are gonna talk junk about ya. Happens all the time in this world!" He moves a little faster to step up to Loki's side. "But you decide who you are, not them. And if you do some good, eventually those people are gonna change their tune."

"Perhaps. So what do you do to entertain yourself around here? Mutant humans are hunted. How do you avoid capture? I have not seen one of the large constructs in a while."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what!?," balks Drake. He speeds up enough to step directly into Loki's path, giving him that classic wide-eyed panic he's likely used to from the denizens of Earth. "H-how did you know? I didn't.. err.." He waves his hands gently in a 'hush-hush' manner, "Keep that down, yeah? Like you said, they're… they're not very popular around here."

With that initial alarm wearing off, he continues, "There's a few of us around. We… watch out for each other. And I'm new to town, I'unno how these locals entertain themselves yet."

"I can sense energy levels." The trickster replies simply. "I am one of the greatest sorcerers in the Nine Realms, afterall." He watches Drake for a moment and shrugs. "I have no reason to tell anyone who is or who is not different. It is none of my concern. I have friends that are different, so it is of no consequence to me."
Drake eyeshifts. "Right." Looking back to Loki, he clears his throat. "A-anyway, the most entertainment I've had is at a pool. I'm still on the lookout, so to speak. I can't seem to take a walk around this city without running into a mugger, black market deal, or…" He trails, gesturing towards Loki himself with a rueful smile.

"Indeed. So, where do you live? I can take you there if I am familiar with the area. I have been to a place where people with the same advantages as you dwell. Unfortunately the bald one does not care for me, but I have caused no harm to its residents."
"The bald one..?" And other places where people like him live? That sounds like the mansion, sure enough. Drake murmurs, "Err, yeah, I live at the Xavier Mansion. Kind've… like a boarding house or whatever. Doing classes there." He sets a hand to the back of his neck with a smirk, "And that's the story I'm stickin' to."

"Yes, the bald one who attempts to influence my mind. He learned why it is unwise to touch the mind of a god. He was unhurt, but still, it was a lesson learned the difficult way. When you wish to go back there, let me know and I will transport you. Perhaps I can visit with some acquaintences there."
"I should probably hold off on headin' back to the mall so soon, so I could go back any time now." Drake's shoulders lift in a loose shrug. "Now's fine. But maybe we should try to avoid the Bald One when we head back, eh?" The suggestion is delivered with a widening of that smile.

"As you wish. And yes, avoiding the Bald One would be wise. He has a tendency to attempt to cause me to sleep so I will be easier to deposit someplace else as though I am some common street urchin." He holds out a hand to Drake so he can have contact to initiate the teleport.

"Telepathic Nyquil. The Bald One is a crafty man, he is." When the hand is offered, Drake doesn't take it in the typical way. Not this time. Instead, he reaches in to hook thumbs, as if giving a street handshake.

Loki nods and they disappear again, reappearing in the foyer of the Xavier Mansion. "What is Nyquil?" Loki asks, shapeshifting into the form of a young man with blonde hair, wearing a baseball cap and casual clothes. "Nobody will recognize me now."

Shoomp.

When they reappear, Drake staggers for a moment before regaining his bearings. And along with that, he realizes Loki's appearance has completely changed. There's a twinge of dread somewhere in the back of his mind. A question of, 'Have I done the right thing?' But for now, he simply pushes it back and resumes the jovial banter. "Nyquil's a medicine for when you get a cold or whatever. Knocks you out," he explains.

"Sounds positively vile." Loki replies. "Or rather it sounds like the Midgardian version of a sleep potion. Perhaps your kind picked up our influence afterall. Too bad it is most likely not created by sorcery." He bounces up and down on his heels. "So what shall we do now?"
"I'unno. When I get a cold, sleep's the best thing ever." Drake quickly scans the surroundings, spying no one in their immediate vicinity. Pupils and staff alike are still likely out, and will probably be out a bit longer before the next school year rolls around. "Well, there's the rec' room. Probably find something entertaining in there. S'the point, right? C'mon!" He breezes past Loki towards the east wing hallway. "Pretty sure it's this way…"

"The only time we become ill is when something happens such as the plague Fafnir wrought upon our people, or when I got too close to a swamp dragon hatchling in Gymirsgard and it bit me. We do not suffer from such things as colds or flu. I suppose that is one of the advantages of our physiology."

"Probably. It's kind'a weird to think of a god with a fistful of tissues, anyway," reflects Drake as he saunters along. "Ever play video games? Ever play fooseball?" His head turns to regard the 'mutant' in his company. "This could turn out to be an even more interesting day!"

"I attempted to play a video game once, but I have never played fool's ball. What would you like to do? I have seen no evidence of the Bald One, so we should be safe. I can mask my presence from mortals, so he should not know I am here."

The deeper into the wing they trek, the more certain Drake is that they're going the right way. This carries right up until they're in front of the rec room, which he pushes into with a pleased smile. "Fooseball," he corrects gently. "We'll start with that. It's easy enough to get the hang of!"

"Foooooseball." Loki pronounces with an exaggerated tone. "Very well. Let us foose a ball, then. How does one play this game? It looks like a puzzle."

Drake grins as Loki over-enunciates. But once he lets his gaze settle on the room, he starts to frown. "Could'a swore I saw one in here. The Bald One, he got to me, too." He exhales a puffy, dejected sigh, then glances to Loki. "Gaming it is, then. What kind did you try earlier?"

Loki ponders. "It was an epic about a young warrior embarking on a quest to free his lady love from the clutches of an evil overlord." He sits on the sofa and folds his hands in his lap neatly. "What do you enjoy playing? Perhaps there is something we can both play."

"Sounds like every game since the Nintendo," says Drake, the realization that Loki has no idea what a Nintendo not occuring to him. Regardless, he's striding with purpose towards the library of games. "I have something in mind. A classic. One of the games that paved the way for the future…"

"With aliens."

Finding the particular game in question, he goes about putting it in. A couple controllers are nabbed, and he hops the remainder of the distance to the couch, sitting beside the deity-in-disguise. So begins the original Halo opening. A controller is offered to Loki.

"Aliens…like me? I hope not." Loki takes the controller and looks at it to sort out how it works. "What is the topic of this game and what is our objective?" He watches the opening, narrowing his eyes a bit. "I have seen no such things during my time on Midgard…when did this occur?"

"Ahahah, god no!," laughs Drake. "These are aliens! Like, weird-looking ones. You'll see. The objective's to shoot'em, or escape from'em, or whatever. It'll tell you. But it's usually to shoot the things that don't look like you." Avatar-creation takes place, with Drake picking something a darker shade of green than the typical Master Chief might be. He then helpfully directs Loki to do the same. "This didn't quite happen in Earth history. But the future's a crazy thing. Just last month, I never thought I'd be here. Or talking to Loki."

Loki makes his character and enters the game, squinting as he tries to read what is on the screen. The All-Tongue translates most words into Old Norse for him, but it doesn't translate text into Elder Futhark. "What do we do? What is happening? Why are these people yelling??"

"The alien dudes are breaking in. You got the controls down? Go find a gun!" Cue the frantic scrambling of a pair of unarmed Master Chiefs in split screen. "Hahah, man, it's been years!" A glance is stolen away to Loki to gauge the Asgardian's take on what's going on.

Looking down at the control, Loki shakes his head. "Wh-what do I do? How do I find a gun? WHY would I want a gun? I am a sorcerer!" He lifts a hand which glows green for a moment. "I can take care of them without a gun!"
"No, that won't-.. wait a second!" Drake suddenly pivots to Loki, eyes widened. "Are you able to do some sorcery stuff and transport yourself /into/ the game? Cuz blastin' a t.v. isn't gonna do it. Well, it /will/, but that fun runs out pretty quick, and isn't exactly a challenge. But putting yourself into the game itself could be really awesome. Could blast'em with as much magic as you want in there!"

Loki looks at the screen and then Drake. "I believe I can. Would you like me to do that now? I will not allow any harm to come to you."

Drake's eyes widen only further. "Dude. Sure! But I mostly meant /you/ could do it, since you wanted to blast'em with magic and all…"

"Yes but why should I have all the fun?" Loki asks, shapeshifting back to himself, but in his leather (Avengers) armor. "Come on, let's go bash some aliens that aren't Asgardians!"

Laughing, Drake gives a an enthusiastic fistpump. "Let's do this!"

Best. Idea. Ever.

Loki stands in the Rec Room, reaching out to Drake. He had just announced his idea of pulling himself and Drake into the game where people are shooting at each other with high powered weapons. What could possibly go wrong? Loki takes Drake's hand and the two disappear, reappearing on the screen of the television, in the 3d game. "I still don't know what we're doing, but at least we can fight as ourselves!"

The rec room is vacant at this time, but there's evidence that someone (or two?) were here before. The large television screen is on with a video game currently in play. For those in the know, they may identify it as the original Halo currently at the very, very beginning of the split-screen multiplayer campaign. Indeed, both Masters Chiefs are still hanging out in the cryogenics chamber.

Except there's a leather-garbed Loki and totally casual Drake hanging out, as though they were NPCs. But they appear to be having a conversation.

"Hahahah! What a trip!," laughs Drake. He turns a slow circle, taking it all in with a bright, enthusiastic smile. "This is /nuts/!" Once he's turned to Loki again, he tries to explain: "You do what the soldier guys say right now. You'll get into the groove, brother, don't worry! If you see a monster-ish-lookin' alien, shoot it! Or.. or zap it! Or whatever you do!"

Loki lets out a high pitched yell when an alien gets too close and blasts it with magic, disintegrating it. "You are speaking in unfamiliar terms again!" He says as he starts getting the hang of it and taking out more. "I should warn you that if you become injured in here, you will be injured in the real world. So be careful!"

And unwiting into the crazy walks Ember. Not that she's noticed just how bonkers things are just yet. After all, the rec room is normally an island of relative sane in this place. So in she comes with a plate loaded with pizza rolls and after glancing around briefly, drags one of the beanbag chairs over next to the coffee table. Taking note of the controllers and the active screen but not really making the mental jump to noticing the crazy just yet, she sets Snack Mountain down on the table then looks around the room to see if maybe she missed someone grabbing a snack. "Hello? Who's here? Kitty, are you hiding in the furniture or something?" Then she notices the movement on the screen and hears the voices from the speakers.

Wait for it…

"Sonofabitch!"

She jumps out of the chair before she'd even fully sat down yet and stands there just like you'd expect someone to stand who just noticed two friends wandering around inside of a video game.

From the perspective of the split screen, it looks like Loki is blasting some of the short, squatty aliens with magic. Drake, meanwhile, looks to be laughing and having a grand time of it.

Within the game itself, he has no idea anyone else has come into the room. After all, his entire world is made up of a 3D environment, fully rendered and currently being invaded by the Covenant! Oh, and a couple Master Chiefs just hanging out. The information given by Loki, however, earns a blink. "Oh. Oh, crap, really? It gets kind'a tough later, especially with the invisible one-hit-kill guys…" Ultimately, he has little time to reflect on this. The game is insisting they progress forward, with or without the Master Chief. Thus, by outside perspective, Drake moves somewhere off-screen.

After acquiring the initial weapon, Drake turns to tuck against the corner of a hallway to examine it. It's a simple pistol, and he's seen the animations a thousand times over in his playthroughs. So he draws the chamber back and peeks around the corner with the weapon. A fire rounds are squeezed off into the weird, bulbousy head of a squat alien. In video games, there's no such thing as a safety on firearms. "Dude."

"I believe one of your colleagues sees us on the screen." Loki winces as a few rounds bounce off of him. Regular rounds may not penetrate his skin, but they still sting. "Ow. Stop shooting at me!!!" He suddenly rages, throwing his arms up and making the ground shake.

Ember's brain can process things much faster than she's generally aware of. Today she's very glad for that as she finds herself sliding into place on the couch, picking up the player 1 controller and plugging in a headset. All this before the rest of her conscious mind really gets caught up. But once it has, she sends the player 1 Master Chief on his way forward to catch up with Drake and Loki, firing off a few fairly accurate shots with her own pistol since one thing she was allowed to do back home was while away hours on the X-box. As she goes, she talks into the headset to see if it works, "Um… did someone slip me some seriously messed up drugs or…" Yeah, she's not quite /that/ mentally caught up just yet.

Drake can be found at position by the hallway still, tongue poked out as he lines up a shot on another alien. But when Madam Chief fires off a few rounds, he presses his back to the wall and instinctively angles the barrel of the gun towards her. But if the avatar is moving, that means someone is playing the game! Loki's totally right! And this just makes him smile all the more.

That is, until Loki starts raging. The ship begins shaking, and Drake drops to a knee to maintain his balance. "Easy, easy! Friendly fire, bro!" He waves his free hand to Loki and adds, "Just don't get shot up by a bunch of those pink dart-things! Those pop!"

A familiar voice registers, and Drake's eyes zip back to the avatar. His face lights up. "Ember? That you?"
Loki puts his hands down, at least until he throws a burst of magic at an alien. "I still have no idea what you're talking about." He complains, backing up as one alien gets a bit too close for comfort, slapping it in the face as if that would help.

"He means don't get shot, Loki. Treat it as any other battle, just realize that the world you're in has its own rules." Ember helms her Master Chief forward, keeping her shots spare but accurate. A fan of the throat and crotch shots, this one is. "Some have guns that look like porcupines with crystal spikes that they shoot. The spikes explode a few seconds after hitting and they tend to come in gross lots, so they hurt lots." She is quiet for a bit as the game advances more and she reloads. "On a related note… why don't you just zap the Cov' bastards, Drake and what in the Name of the Light is going on here?"

"What she said," Drake contributes. Along the way, he discards a pistol in favor of an angular, curvy green gun. Evidently, it charges up, gets kind of warbly, and spits out a bigger shot than normal.

"Why would I do what I'm capable of normally when I'm given the chance to do something /totally/ different?," he replies.

In comes a torrent of those needle-shots, trailing neon pink wisps through the air as they gently home towards the party. Fortunately their capacity to track a target is quite limited. Drake makes a surprised little yelp and dives to the side. While lying on his back, he laughs, "Ain't it obvious!? Me'n my new buddy here decided to play a game!"

He's taking this quite well, given the level of potential danger.

Loki looks around as Ember speaks and one of those spikes sticks to his stomach. He tries to brush it off, but it explodes, knocking him backwards, but not hurting him other than a nagging sting. "I hate aliens…" he mumbles and gets up, kicking one as he does so, and unleashing a massive blast of energy that bursts out of him like an explosion.

Ember is getting into a groove with the game, swapping weapons, draining their ammo into targets and discarding them for new copies. If this altered game is tracking stats, she's got an accuracy count of over 95
so far. She flinches as Loki gets nailed by a needler. Noting the look on his face, she jumps behind cover and shouts, "Drake, duck!" just before the energy burst explodes outward.

Having considerably more physical control than an avatar is a mixed bag. It allows a greater room for error in aiming or movement, but at the same time, physical control is much more responsive! So when someone shouts 'duck', it ain't no thing for Drake to dip low. The burst surges out harmlessly nearby. The teen leans around to peek towards down the path as it's… just cleared out. With a short hike forward, they cue a cutscene!

And Drake talks over it.

"So, what do you think of it, Loki? Entertaining stuff, right? Hey, Ember, how do I look on a game?"

One of the aliens fires off a shot that gets lucky and slices through Loki's leather armor, grazing his upper arm. He seems freaked out by this, and begins tearing through any remaining aliens with a vengeance, sometimes literally tearing them apart with his bare hands. An angry Asgardian is never a good thing. When Drake speaks to him, he calms down and turns to look at him. "I'm not sure. This is a strange place, and I do not completely understand what is happening."

"In a nutshell: It's a future fiction where human space marines fight alien religious zealots on a gigantic ring-shaped artificial habitat called a Halo. Both sides are trying to figure out why the Halo is there and fighting to control it at the same time." Ember fights the urge to skip the cutscene because while there's no one shooting at them it's a good time to get questions like this answered for the Asgardian. "There's a whole 'questions about gods and the universe' thing mixed in, but I always just played it because it was a way to vent my frustration without it causing backlash. Or backhand slaps." When the cutscene ends, she takes a moment to get her Master Chief rearmed. "So obviously the pair of you being in there is your doing, Loki. I've gotta say, that's… very cool."

Drake got no answer! But he's fine with that, letting his mind wander. Once the cutscene ends, Drake's standing at the fore of the ship, staring out at the rendered expanse of space. "This is probably the closest to being in space as I'm ever gonna get." A quiet, wistful sigh escapes him, and he turns to face the others. "But, ah, I'm having a thought. The beginning of the second stage is that ship crash. Everyone dies except the Chief. So, uh…," he trails, lips twisting slightly to the side.

Loki looks out at space as he rubs his arm. "It is strange looking at different stars. In Asgard, we can see the stars whether it be day or night. We are surrounded by the sea of space and it feels warm and familiar. This feels cold and strange." He snaps out of it and says, "Yes, would you liketo come into the game as well?" Then to Drake. "We could likely perish though there is a chance we may survive if I use a magical shield. What is your preference?"

"I think I'll pass on this one, but thank you for the invitation." Ember quirks an eyebrow as Drake reminds her of the great firey crash that's coming in-game. "If there's a chance that includes 'perish', I'd go with the option that has an 'exit' sign attached. But that's just me, sitting out here glued to the screen while my pizza rolls get cold."

Drake gives a lengthy 'mmn' in thought. He turns to lean back against the railing of the ship's fore, expressive emerald eyes lifting to the ceiling. "This has been cool. But… I just found a group of people I fit into. Who don't think I'm a freak, or want me to… pretend to be something I'm not. We got this far, and I've not gotten nailed by a bullet yet. But that could change so quick…"

The teen draws in a slow breath, chest rising, then falling as he breathes a slow whoosh of a sigh.

"I don't wanna risk losin' it all on a game. Awesome as it is." With that conclusion, he glances to Loki. He leans off the railing and approaches the God of Mischief, fist held out in offering. "Let's call it quits here. 'Sides, she mentioned pizza rolls. You have to try those."

Loki looks away from the stars and reaches out with his fist to fistbump, transporting them out of the game and back into the Rec Room. He plops back on the sofa, breathing a sigh of relief. "We have returned to the proper place, and in one piece as far as I can tell. Are you injured in any way?"

Ember slides over to make room as the pair return and Loki makes with the couch-flop. She quickly checks over both of them, noting the spot where Loki got hit hard enough to cut his armor. She reaches over to open the armor cut and check the skin underneath. "Well, I can't speak for Drake but you seem to have picked up a couple of nicks, oh Lord of Misrule. Barely a shaving mishap, though. Just don't let it get infected, if that's even a problem for you." She dips a napkin in her water and dabs a bit of the blood away before turning to Drake, "How about you, Junior Chief? Did the Covenant score any hits on your pasty ass?"

The transferrence is as unsteady this time as any teleportation today has been. Once he's materialized into the natural world again, he staggers a couple steps backwards before finding his footing again. "Nah, I'm good. I was playing a lot of D back there." He blinks, refocusing on Loki. "Defense," he reiterates for his sake. "That was fun, though!"

Despite his words, Drake paws his hands about his person, checking to make sure everything is in place without plasma scoring, bullet holes, or missing fingers. In the process, he pauses to shoot Ember a look. "/Junior/ Chief? I'd smoke you any day of the week!"
"We are immune to MIdgardian illnesses." Loki says, then hisses when she dabs at it. "Ow! Stop that! It will heal within a few hours, there is no need to fuss!" He folds his arms over his chest and leans back into the pillows.

Ember manages to keep the smirk off of her face as Loki reacts to her ministrations. "I must say, the Asgardian stoicism seems to be very different from what the myths describe." But she does stop 'fussing' and instead turns her attention back to Drake. "You'd like to think that, but I've got over a thousand hours logged on Halo. So what do you say to trying to prove yourself worthy?" She picks up and tosses over to him the player 2 controller. "But you've got the bitch seat, Junior Chief."

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