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An alien autopsy

Passengers: Loki and Claire
Location: Infirmary
Date: 4/14 (one week post sim)
Summary: Loki allows Claire to perform a medical ~~experiment~~ exam on him in exchange for forgiveness.
Warnings: Nudity (maybe?), shapeshifting

This is. Far more awkward, after the simulation.

It was already going to be awkward, of course. Loki had worn her clothes, and now she was going to treat him like a specimen to investigate. They didn't need to add merging into one being to all that.

At least they waited a week?

Still, when Loki arrives at the infirmary he hovers in the doorway, hesitant, before fully stepping inside. He clears his throat to get Claire's attention, nodding politely when she looks his way.

"Good morning, Claire. How are you?" He smiles, spreading his arms out at his sides. "I'm ready whenever you are."

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The excitement of examining Loki (for entirely medical purposes) is dampened by the fact that they, in highly emotional states, ended up merging into some sort of abomination that Claire very much doesn't like to think about. The sound of his voice has her frowning, back towards him, but by the time she turns to greet him, a maybe all-too-nice smile is in place.

"Loki. Hello," she says, hesitating before moving towards him. "I'm well."

A little unsettled after the simulation, but that's the point, isn't it? She clears her throat. They weren't well while in it. Weren't well when mixing together.

"How are you?"

Claire, at least, doesn't seem adverse to touching his elbow to guide him to the exam area.

Loki notes the smile but doesn't hold it against her. He lets her lead him easily enough, even as he immediately takes in anything in the room she might be planning to use on him.

"Well enough." He pauses, then adds, "Alice is gone."

He's clearly conflicted about that, though not outright upset, exactly. Where he might have been more paranoid as an inmate that her leaving had meant something-- that he'd really gotten her killed, perhaps --now it's less explicit than that. It doesn't help that she'd said she was dead back home. Even if it wasn't his fault, he's concerned.

Loki clears his throat. "But it seems we made it through. You know, I once went through one of those where the worst thing that happened was a panic attack on a carnival ride?" He lets out a weary laugh. "At least we have that to point to when anything else happens. 'Yes, that was awful, but remember Area X?'"

Nothing nefarious is in sight. The worst Claire plans to do is draw some blood, should he allow it, and she positions him by the wall so she can note his height.

"I'm sorry," Claire says in response to news of Alice, frowning. There goes her hopes of taking her on as an apprentice. Her brow creases as she jots something down. "Silco's gone, too. I'm not having much luck thus far when it comes to inmates."

Tomorrow will bring new opportunities of course.

Loki is chattier than Claire realized. It's endearing, in a way--she misses the constant noise and chatter of home, someone always underfoot, and it makes the horror of what they experienced maybe not so much at the forefront of her mind. The corner of her mouth quirks into a sincere smile of amusement.

"Are you nervous, Loki?"

Loki glances at the contraption Claire draws down the wall towards him, relaxing slightly as he realizes she's just measuring him.

Only to tense again when Claire questions him. His eyes dart around. "No." Pause. "Maybe. You have a few reasons to be...annoyed with me now. I'd rather not make it worse."

But that isn't all. He swallows. "And while I'm more at peace with being a Frost Giant than I once was, it's still. Difficult."

"I'm not one to beat a dead horse," she tells him. He had his punishment. He gets a little nudge rather than verbal instruction to stand up as straight as possible, and she takes a breath before adding: "And if it's what happened in the simulation, that's hardly your fault. We weren't ourselves. It's just... strange. To think back on it."

But she is very happy he is his own whole person, and she her own.

Claire nods to the scale after she writes down his height.

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. If at any point you want to stop, call it a day, you can let me know. I've only ever known... humans. I'm hoping this is enlightening for the both of us, but never at the expense of your comfort," she promises. "Believe it or not, I do like you."

Loki's mouth quirks up in a smile despite how sheepish he feels as the pleasure of her approval washes over him. He takes advantage of moving to the scale to duck his head a little, hiding it.

"I enjoy your company as well, Claire. Far more as two separate people, but as you said, we had little say in it." Shooting her a cheeky look, he adds, "I've never been married. Is that what it's like?"

That's an obvious deflection, though, and he knows she'll see it as such. He chuckles, shaking his head. "But, no. I'll be alright. I should warn you that some of what I don't know is what magic I might inherently have. The full grown giants we encountered could frostburn someone's flesh black in an instant. I don't believe that's among my abilities, but...I also don't know for certain what triggers it."

He meets her eyes again, tone nearly apologetic. "We shall have to be careful. But if you'd be open to assisting me in testing such things, I would appreciate an...unbiased mind."

That's a much better mood.

Her smile falters at the mention of marriage, because it's this Robbie person that briefly flickers to the forefront before Jamie, but she shakes her head.

"If that's what marriage is like, no one would ever willingly do it," she teases. But she listens to his concerns and notes them, along with the numbers on the scale. "We'll be careful. I might want some thick gloves if we want to test that, but I'm not worried if it's not an ongoing problem you encounter."

It's another friendly touch at his elbow to guide him to the examination table, to sit, and Claire stands in front of him.

"For all intents and purposes, you look human. But you can, under normal circumstances, look however you'd like, no?" He's proven as much. "Would you not be considered a... full grown frost giant? Why are you different?"

Loki sits, hands clasped in his lap. He's not sure where this is going yet, but her questions are reasonable, even if thinking about any of it still makes him uncomfortable. And it's the not talking about it that's likely lead to that discomfort.

"I was abandoned as a runt. Frost giants are usually at least twice my height." He holds his hand out, staring at it. "Odin cast a glamor on me to make me appear Asgardian in order to pass me off as his son. Apparently it was powerful enough to last even after his death. Or perhaps I unconsciously maintain it myself. It's hard to say."

He glances up again. "I discovered the truth when a frost giant grabbed me and rather than being frostbitten, the glamor started to fade. And I confirmed it when I touched a frost giant artifact that had the same effect. I suspect extreme cold might also induce that change, although with my ability to change my appearance limited by the Navarch, I'm not sure."

Possibly all she's done is locked him into this state. He was so determined to take his punishment with honor that he hadn't asked any clarifying questions, really.

Abandoned as a runt. The words shakes off some of the fascination, replacing it with a sharp pang in her chest. She almost misses the rest of what he says--Odin, but of course, glamor, death, cold. It's difficult not to get caught up on that background that Loki's shared, after all the lost and abandoned that she and Jamie have taken in over the years.

"I can't imagine how difficult that must have been," she says after a beat, resting her hands on his arms for a moment, just long enough to give a reassuring squeeze. She has vivid memories of the disgust and hate and hurt in Bree's eyes when she told her that the man she loved more than anyone else wasn't actually her father by blood. That she had lied to her for her entire life.

"... or how being asked to talk about it must make you feel. You are free to tell me you don't want to discuss something, you realize, hmm? Tell me to go take a walk, you nosy woman, so on and so forth?"

She smiles, trying to get one out of him.

The smile comes easy, with a hint of relief in how his eyebrows tilt. "I know. But it is good to be reminded." He chuckles, ducking his head sheepishly before he offers, "I think sometimes my attempts to be 'more than' the God of Lies makes me inclined to share far more than I ever would before. Not that I didn't already hide real truth behind brazen reveals before, of course."

But right now? "I think I'm alright, so far. Is there anything I can further explain? I...don't know how much experience you have with magic at all, actually." Which makes him wonder if everything he just said was completely inscrutable.

She hums in amusement at that comment.

"I used to think magic didn't exist. That it was a thing in stories and movies," she says, and it's back to the exam as she regards his appearance with the knowledge that even this isn't really real. But it looks it. "Then, I found myself in another time because of magic, or at least something like it, and I'm constantly accused of being a witch in a century where witches are killed. It's a little beyond me, but I can... envision it. Gods and mythical giants are things that aren't real in my world. I think."

She pauses. She's traveled through time more than once. She's seen ghosts. She has something to her. And she's pretty sure she saw something in Loch Ness, once.

"Actually, hell if I know anymore."

Loki laughs softly. "You'll feel more and more that way, the longer you stay aboard, I'm afraid. But it sounds as if your own world was surprising you just fine as it is."

He's gathered that Claire is from Earth, but as always it's hard to say whether it's anything like the one he came from. As it is, he's not certain Barnes is from the same dimension as him, so he doesn't even really know where to start on that. And with her mentioning witches, he can't help but wonder if her world might have more in common with Misty's, at the end of the day.

Which, well. "So, are you?" He cocks his head to the side. "A witch, I mean."

The question gets a grimace, and she resists the urge to (playfully) smack the side of his head. It's a fair thing to ask. So, she gives it a moment of thought before she does.

She can only really speak about it so openly here, where she's not that strange, comparatively.

"I've been called a fairy. A witch. La dame blanche, a white which, and kings have asked me to judge whether men should live or die. I was told when my hair turns white I'll have wisdom beyond time. A little on the nose with that one, I thought. I don't really know what I am," she admits with a shrug, because if she tries to focus on Loki, knowing there's something keeping his true form hidden from her, she still can't tell. Can't sense it.

"I do often have a broom in hand and talk to a little cat," she says thoughtfully, tapping her chin in thought. "But that's mostly for sweeping the porch, and the cat keeps mice away from my surgery."

Loki's expression goes wistful as she speaks. The listing of titles alone would remind him of Asgard just fine, but those particular titles, that power wrought from wisdom. It makes his chest ache, he recognizes it so clearly.

He laughs at her joke and it gives him the chance to glance away, blinking rapidly to keep himself under control. But he's still smiling when he looks back.

"Some called my mother a witch. She was a great seer. She taught me everything she knew of magic, but her Sight was a gift I couldn't inherit."

He holds a hand palm-up and releases a shower of sparks that give off no heat. With a soft chuckle, he let his hand drop back into his lap. "Besides, I was always far more talented at illusion."

Edited (Gdit phone) 2022-04-30 18:52 (UTC)

The little display has her eyes going wide for a moment, more surprise and wonder than anything unpleasant. She laughs at her own reaction before giving Loki a nod. "Indeed. That's what the myths in my world say about the god, Loki."

She opens her mouth--don't ask about the horse--shuts it, then tries again. Maybe feeling a little too comfortable with him, after what they experienced and now seeing how fondly he speaks of his mother, but maybe she doesn't want to imagine the horse thing. Ahem.

"Your mother taught you magic, but maybe I'll be able to teach you something about your biology and physiology. With some luck and no accidents along the way," she teases. "I've never paid much attention aside from when sleep wasn't happening at all, but do you generally believe you eat and sleep like us mere human folk do? Share the same senses such as vision, hearing, so on and so forth?"

Loki doesn't comment on it, but he does note Claire equating herself with his mother. It puts into words a sensation he's had since meeting her. A sort of...belligerent caring. It's nice.

"I need to eat and sleep, but can survive with far less of both than a human could, not that it's pleasant. And I need plenty of both to keep my seidr strong." Pause. "Seidr means magic, by the way."

As for the senses, he has to consider that for a moment. "I believe my senses are generally a bit stronger? But I can't see through to other planes of existence or hear people speaking on the other side of the ship or anything." Not that he's sure it counts as a sense, but he adds, "My reflexes are far better than the average human, though. And I'd wager I'm stronger, though not so much as the best of our Asgardian warriors."

"Remarkable," Claire says after taking note of what Loki says. Claire's no mad scientist--just genuinely excited to be given the opportunity to examine someone like Loki. It's a great distraction. And if something terrible happens down the road, perhaps she'll be better equipped to help him out.

"Mind if I give your heart and lungs a listen?" She asks, "I'm curious."

Loki's brow furrows slightly-- perhaps that's something a Soul Forge does, but he's never thought about the use of hearing someone's heart. But he nods, sitting up straighter as she guides him through taking breaths. His heart rate is quite a bit faster than the average human's, and it speeds up just a bit more as she listens.

With Claire this close, he can feel how much cooler her skin feels. This isn't the first time he's noticed he seems to run hotter than others. He'd always hated the summers in Asgard, far more than his peers ever had.

As she draws away, he observes, "I think my body temperature is higher than yours. Which I suppose makes sense. Jotunheim is largely made up of glaciers and ice floes." He hums, shakes his head. "I guess I'd always assumed frost giants were cold because they can freeze you with a touch, but that must be magic, if I'm warmer even in this form. That's..."

He licks his lips, clears his throat. Shrugs. "Good to know. I'd always assumed I'd be a danger, if I was forced into my frost giant form."

Nerves. Claire doesn't comment on the quickening of his pulse, finding it endearing, but not wanting to embarrass him by drawing attention to it.

But Loki can't mention temperature without Claire instinctively pressing a palm to his forehead. Just to properly confirm that he does seem to run warm. She gives him a small smile, a touch of something playful in it, always hoping to lighten the mood.

"You are warm, but I think you're very cool."

Get it. Cool. Frost giant. Claire grimaces for the both of them as she drops her hand.

"I'm the first to make that joke, surely."

Loki laughs, his expression somewhere between delighted and incredulous. "You might be, actually." And he clearly doesn't mind, given how his cheeks are flushing pink.

"I haven't known about my actual heritage very long, myself. It's... almost easy to forget. I suppose the few who do know probably let it slip their minds as well." His smile turns self-deprecating. "It doesn't help that I look--"

Loki freezes, eyes going wide as it hits him. This isn't technically his natural form. Maintaining it likely draws from his magic. Which means--

Holding his hands out in front of him, he stares as, quick as a blink, his skin fades into that blue he's only seen a handful of times. Swirling lines raise and dance up under his sleeves, and seconds later, he's in his Jotun form.

Loki lifts his eyes, now red, back to Claire. "I...suppose my shapeshifting hasn't been completely suspended." In truth, he hasn't tested it. Which is its own little shock.

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An alien autopsy

autopsy.... spoilers!!!

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