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Righteous Lad Meets Loki
Halloween Eve was nearing its end, and on this particular late night Righteous Lad was taking the liberty to stay behind and decorate the interior of the Silver League Headquarters for the next day. By this point, he had gotten quite a bit of it done. One could even argue that he was just finishing up a few last touches - such being spreads of black & orange lettering that reads Happy Halloween in bold letters. He was tending to the first of the remaining two presently.
He steps up onto the chair he had placed specifically there for the purpose of lifting and taping the opposite end of the decor he gives his undivided attention to. Once he finishes with that one, he moves on to do the same with the other sign. A process in total that consumes the last crumbs of the date, inevitably giving way to the next 24-hour cycle. Just as midnight strikes and he climbs down from the seat he brought along with him, he suddenly hears the sound of the front door opening outside of the center hall lounge room just as the sole of his boot meets the marble floor again. He pauses in place as his head whips toward the direction the noise came from - though because double doors and circular walls obscure his view, he could only take a guess of who may have just entered. His questioning arching brow makes it obvious he has no clue whatsoever. Thus, he entertains his curiosity and makes his way to the redwood doors leading out into another secluded hallway, and pries one of them open while protuding a foot outside and poking his head out to look around.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" He asks within a reasonably high volume, scanning around for a sign of anyone. Soon enough, he concedes that there's just nothing out there. Not even at the glass doors at the front leading in and out of the building.
He finds it rather odd, but reasons to himself that maybe the individual had a change of mind about entering. He mentally shrugs it off and steps back into the lounge room, allowing the door to shut again on its own while he treads toward the tables setup for the following afternoon.
"Am I just hearing things...?" He utters nonchalantly to himself.
"Oh, NO. I'd say you have exceptional hearing!" An enthusiastic and disembodied voice suddenly makes itself heard to answer. Masculine and smooth in tone.
Going into high alert, Righteous Lad looks around for the owner of the voice.
"Who said that?"
"Who, indeed? You're not quite what I've expected. But perhaps I'm simply getting ahead of myself... I'm just oh-so-eager to learn more about you, my young good sir." The voice responds with genuine curiosity dripping from those words.
"You've been spying on me or something? What's your game here?" The hero questions, still bearing no results as he searches for a face or a simple hint.
"Ha-Hooah. My dear boy... when I want to play a game, my cues are as clear and sharp as my favorite chrystal dagger." The voice retorts with a sense of mischievious sincerity.
"Then why don't you show yourself? Let me see you for what and who you are." Tyson reasons calmly.
"How quaint. You have a tone of old fashion nobility to your cadence. Upper-class then, hm? You've not even a hint of Asgard tongue behind your speech, so it's safe to assume that your upbringing lies in the realm of Earth. But, yes-yes. You'd like to talk face to face, correct? Turn around..." The voice instructs, of which Tyson obliges with little hesitation. Upon doing so, the hero's eyes widen briefly in suprise. For what was awaiting him was a hooded man who stands at more or less 6'3 in height. A complexion a shade or two above fair, lips presenting a grin, and pools of illuminating emerald calmly staring into his jade pair. Just looking at him, Tyson saw something familiar in the man's more mature, yet fairly young face.
"Who... are you?" The hero finally asks after what feels like a long pause of silence. Before answering right away, the man in fashionable and decorative leather begins circling Tyson. Observing the hero in a similar fashion.
"...I am the God of misfortune, mischief, chaos, and tricks." The stranger begins, still taking in careful details of the one he came to visit. He notes the young man's rather outdated 18th century-esque attire and the interesting color scheme of it. It was undoubtedly a rarity in this day and age, yet he develops the opinion that it suits the young man well despite such.
"I am written about in legends and countless tales of misadventures - typically the antagonist of someone's epic. The villain of someone's endeavor..." The peculiar man goes onto to further explain. Suddenly, the dual sets of horns that protrude from the stranger's fanciful cowl begin to stand out in Tyson's eyes. As the hero listens, an image of the individual's characters begins forming within his mind. One not even remotely flattering thus far.
"Some call me Laufeyjarson {La-fay Har-Son}--" He trails off again rather soon, though just until he comes to halt and stand before the slightly shorter male once more. He also brings his hands to meet behind his back, in a fashion of where his left hand securely holds the wrist of his right.
"But I am far more commonly known as Loki. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my fascinating... friend."
"Loki... I-...I see. It's good to make your acquaintance, too." Tyson responds with courtesy, though realization begins seeking in. His brows furrow a tad at upon becoming aware of his slip of unintentional lack of respect.
"Now tell me, who are YOU? " Loki returns the question.
"Righteous Lad." He answers rather instinctively. It earns him an unamused look from the Asgardian God.
"Your real name."
"...Tyson Luthur."
"Are you sure about that?" Loki questions with a very evident tone of doubt as he leans in, peering solemnly into the hero's eyes. He didn't quite think the other was lying, but it was a clearly a name from the realm of mortals. With a face that felt so familiar, he just couldn't buy it.
"Konnence. Konnence is what I was named at birth..."
"Oh? I quite like that name." Loki comments as another grin curves the corners of his lips upward.
"It fits the air you have about you. But that aside, I'd like to know something else now. What is your connection to Hel?"
"She's my birth mother. And I'm your grandson."
"I down right knew it! Your rather pale complexion, those eyes, and even the color of your hair. Ha-ha-HAA! But then that begs the question--" From laughter, Loki's expression shifts to wide-eye wonder.
"Who is your father?
"Apollo."
"Apollo?"
"The Sun God from Olympus."
"That pompous prude with the tattoo of the sun on his forehead!? Really?" Loki presses in disbelief.
"Yes, that's the one. He refuses to really talk to me, but he has at least admit to it." Konnence informs.
"Oh, how ironic... An unfaithful husband, a mother who has held her secret quite tightly until today, and the bastard of light and dark. What an unfortunate not-so-happy family the three of you make. Heh!
Welcome to the family tree, by the way. I had wondered if your mother would ever find a suitor, let alone bear children.A shame it couldn't have been within better circumstances."
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