UNIVERSE ▴ private

[Nightingale]

//Loki//

Standing with her paws washed purple and blue in a sea of wildflowers, the rising sun splashing over her in golden glory, Nightingale tipped her head slightly back in content.

It's been a while since she's been here.

Not for any significant reason, hell, not for any reason really, but as her clear blue eyes swept over the lush grass and blankets of flowers, she wonders why. With her shoulders held elegantly back, the soft fur of her neck exposed to the sunlight in almost arrogant confidence, the siamese remembered the last time she was here. Nightingale almost laughs, holding it back as not to disturb the silence.

Young, naïve, thinking she knew a lot more than she did, Nightingale remembers the day she arrived here with immaculate detail. Late autumn, winter’s warning of a slightly colder breeze brushing through her fur, her collar - oh, God, her collar - still holding her around her neck. A chokehold. Trapping her.

She was a precocious child, you’d have to give her that, but no one - especially not one as young as she was - could be thrown into the woods like that and come out the same. Like leaving a lamb to wolves. Like leaving a kitten to bears.

Nightingale remembered the promise that she’d made to her brother, Sparrow, the night she left.

“I’ll come back, Sparrow, I promise. And I’ll be exactly the same.”

Well, now, Sparrow’s dead and the Nightingale he’d made that promise with might as well be. Her parting words with the one cat she’d loved the most in the world, and she’d reneged on both of her promises.

“Wow.” Nightingale spoke out loud to herself, a humourless laugh bubbling out of her chest. “I’m a monster.”

The she-cat doesn’t move, not even when the sun inches up the sky, splashing sunrise colours of pink, blue and orange over the horizon. The light bronzes her figure, lending her cream coat a golden tinge. Appearance-wise, the siamese’s matured since she was a kitten, growing at least an inch and a half in height and losing the kitten fat around her neck, shoulders and face. Svelte and slender, her show-cat bloodlines are obvious in her lean frame, long legs and narrow shoulders. Her eyes - the same kitten-blue she’s had since she was born - hold something in them that they didn’t hold before. Before, they sparkled like the gemstones on her collar, pretty to look at but with nothing behind them. Shallow. Trivial. Now, as her eyes shift slightly across the painted sunrise, the difference is wildly apparent.

They lost the sparkle, but they hold the universe.

[Loki]

It had been time enough for the slender tom. He had been away, on a journey to free his mind, yet for some odd reason, he decided to come back. And he came back to chaos. Not the chaos where everything was on fire and cats shood warring each other, no. Quite the opposite. He came back to silence. It stood, eerily, playing with the hairs on your neck, hiding in shadows and the crevices of boulders. It was full, not a shallow silence. It was so pressing, it could've been a physical object. And the one thing about the silence that bothered Loki beyond his wits, was that in the quiet, he never heard the sound of his brother's, nor his sister's, voices.

He was finally, and utterly, alone. However, isn't this what he wanted? Maybe. Did he enjoy it? No. He had changed since the winter, he had changed for the better. Summer now stood on the brink of flooding, and Loki's personality had taken an entire 180. He wasn't the same cat he used to be. He was older, wiser; it was apparent on his slim face. Away from this land, he also seemed to regain an interal part of him. Whatever had happened when he was away, it was for the best.

So what had happened?

Loki had left the area on the eve of winter, finding himself mentally unstable and quite ready to kill his sister, the only family member that had remained with him. The ongoing war they fought had driven him to the edge, and he needed to escape it in case he did something he certainly didn't want to do. To kill. His claws were fully capable, his lean muscles entirely strong enough, and yet even though there remained a killer inside of him, he didn't let it out. So he had taken a step back. Unwilling to return to Asgard, his home, he had ventured far from where he stood, much further than a cat could go in such a short while. There, he had found something he never thought he would see again: his father.

"I thought you died," he had choked out, his blazing green eyes softening at the sight of his old protector. Yet, he had never held any remorse for Loki, and the younger cat took a small step back, his face contorting into a frown. "What are you doing here." The words were harsh and cold; they sounded more like a statement than a question.

The old cat turned to look into the face of the frost giant, his one blue eye fixed sharply upon Loki's elegant face. He lifted a shaky paw, and without hesitation, placed it gently upon the young black cat's cheek. Loki flinched, but did not move away. "I love you, my son," came the deep voice of Odin. He let his paw drop, before lifting his one-eyed gaze to the ocean beyond him. "My time has come."

At this, tears sprung into Loki's brilliant eyes. He watched his father, though his father was not watching him. "I'll remember this place," he continued in his awe-inspiring voice. "Home." And without another word, a brilliant light came from his fluffy form, and he floated away into a billion firefly-like lights, out towards the sea and up into the heavens.

Loki watched the spot for a moment longer, a single word ringing in his ears, son. He had never been called that in his life, and it filled him with a sense far beyond compare. What had he done to make his father proud... nothing. He was quite worthless in that category, placing him on a level he had been to before. Something in him snapped, and he lay his belly onto the soft grass, his lush fur gently blowing in the cool sea breeze. For the second time in his life, he cried out of emotion. It was not the same as the mourning he had had for his mother, but a gentle stream of tears dripped off his nose, chin, and cheeks. No noise escaped his lips, and his eyes continued to stare at the spot where his father had done. Then, finally, he lowered his eyes and climbed back onto his feet, leaving the place.

Later, he had found his home, his only home, to be destroyed. Asgard no longer exsisted. And though he was a Prince, there now was nowhere to be king. However, he was content with his title.

After that, he had had a dreaded thought his time was close. It was a weird feeling, as if he were old as his father. But no, he wasn't even close. He left the land abruptly, avoiding death once again. He came back to the land he had temporarily resided in. He never called it home, but perhaps he should. Besides, it was the only he had left.

He returned to the warmth baking his coat. It was uncomfortable at first, yet his short coat made up for it. He had reacquainted himself with the lands, remembering quite quickly their structure, and even the vast caves in the canyon. He then brought his lithe form to the meadow, where he had had many memories with his siblings. Ah, his siblings. As he made his way through the ocean of flowers, they were the only thing he could think of. Eventually, and finally, a smooth and beautiful voice hit his ears. He sank below the flowerline, pollen tickling his nose. Maleficent, the voice belonged to that beautiful siamese. He had always taken advantage of her wanting to be around him, and he suddenly felt bad about it. Her voice sounded older, less pitchy. He found the words, and whispered softly to himself, "You're not a monster."

She seemed to find the psychotic side of herself, reflecting the younger Loki quite well. Once again, a stab of guilt shot him im the heart, and he pulled his face to the flower stems to his left. He stayed like this awhile, the silence pressing on until the sun painted the skies a brilliant colour of lavender, before it turned pink, orange, and blue. This is when the slender cat decided to make his appearance. He lifted his head above the line of flowers, tall and commanding, yet his face betrayed his body.

Sitting, his shoulders protruded from his lithe and graceful form. From this view, he could see the elegant curve of the siamese's back. He could tell she wasn't the kitten she was. He flicked his tail, before opening his mouth and saying the only words he needed to say. "From one monster to another," he paused for a single moment, letting his beautiful accented voice drift over the flowers. "I am happy to see you." She was the only soul he'd seen in ages, and it gave him relief.

1150

© to Vel

[Nightingale]

Nightingale didn't move when the beautiful voice reached her, knowing without a doubt who it belonged to. The cat that, out of all she’d met in her eight moons here, stuck in her mind constantly like a thorn in her side. Her younger self was smitten, confused, captured by this tall, dark stranger, the first cat she’d ever met who she was unable to read immediately.

“I am happy to see you.”

At this, she turned her almond eyes onto him, finding the tom to be sitting amongst the ocean of flowers. Every bit of what she remembered him to be, from the glowing green eyes to the unmistakable voice. The corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and while she stopped it from showing on her lips her eyes betrayed the blatant smile.

“You,” was her first word to him, her voice light and almost laughing.

Maybe she shouldn’t have been as happy as she was to see him. Maybe she should have been mad. Hurt. She remembered, vividly, the encounter in the caves moons ago. The feeling that the walls were crashing in onto her, lungs heaving against the damp air. Trapped underground, no way out, barely able to see six inches in front of you. Starlight flickering across the cold stone floor, teasing you, laughing at you. It pulls things out of you, things that you’d never thought would dare to come out. Demons that you never realised you even had. After that night, Nightingale thinks (half the time, at least) she can control her demons. But she knows she’ll never be rid of them, and she’s always painfully aware of them, sitting heavily on top of her heart, stopping the air from reaching her lungs, pumping her blood full of ice. She has yet to learn to coexist with them. But she knew it isn’t Loki’s fault that the night drew them out.

She understood she was also at fault. If not just for being so young, so stupid, so naïve. Almost an invitation for the demons to seize her. And on top of that, chasing this impossible dream of being able to figure out all of Loki's secrets. Torturing herself mentally, tracing his every movement with her eyes, desperately trying to figure him out.

She turned back to the sun, the golden light soaking into her fur. She smiled.

“Welcome back.”

[Loki]

The siamese's reaction amused the black tom. As she turned to him, he couldn't help but spot the small way her mouth twitched, as if she were refraining from smiling. Her eyes betrayed her concealment, however. Eyes only shone that way when one was smiling. Then, she spoke to his face. It was a single word, a word that could sound harsh if meant to be. She didn’t mean it in that way; a sweet near-laugh escaped her lips as she spoke it. At least she was happy to see him. At least someone in his life enjoyed his company.

He couldn’t forget the meetings they had had together. She had always obsessed with trying to figure him out, and Loki wondered when he would tell her, if he ever would. It was a prospect he considered, pondering the notion in his twisted mind. She had spent so much energy trying to learn his way of thinking, his swagger and his strange habits. He was an unsolvable puzzle, but at least he’d been interesting enough for her to not let go. He appreciated it.

Now she sat here, her beautiful fur turning golden in the sun. Her blue eyes held such qualities that his own could never possess. His own held too many horrors, too many secrets to ever possess what she had. And maybe he envied her for that, but jealousy was a quality he tried to forget. He’d been jealous his whole life, and it was time he left it behind him. Why continue wishing he had what someone else owned when he had his own life to worry about? It wasted energy.

When she turned back to the sun, two more words slipped her mouth. Behind her back, Loki dropped his head slightly to smile at the flowers, before his long legs brought him up to stand beside her. For a moment, they were silent, enjoying the heat of the sun. It brought out qualities in Loki’s fur, showing that he wasn’t simply black. In the sun, it nearly sparkled, and parts of it looked lighter grey, while others looked almost greenish.

He sank his hindquarters back to the ground, bringing his eyes higher to observe the clouds. The colour reflected off his pupils and tinted the green, causing it to look like a slightly different colour. ”And to you, as well.” His eyes travelled to her form. ”You could’ve stayed here. It’s a graveyard of a place. I was alone until I found you.” The tone of his voice was mostly flat, yet held the slightest bit of concern, if she was able to spot it. ”Mal, I’ve changed, and I can see the same goes for you.” Finally, he ended by looking away, his voice holding a tint of malice and mystery. ”We’re not the same as we once were.”

Loki’s brow furrowed slightly. He, of course, hadn’t lost entirely what he was. He was still mischievous, and could pull one good prank. He was manipulative, a mystery, and shrouded in bad vibes. However, instead of being a sorrowful pity party, he had wisened up. His mother, dead. His father, dead. His brother, most likely dead. His sister, possibly dead, he had no idea. This cat beside him was the last thing from his past, and for some odd reason, he didn’t want to let go. He sighed, letting his breath escape his lungs as he closed his eyes, breathing in the smells of summer.

681 || im so used to playing my horse character

© to Vel

[Nightingale]

“Nightingale,”

She turned back to find the tom standing beside her now, his dark figure, all long legs and lean strength, tinged with different colours from the splashes of light, the sun dancing off his green eyes. Every last bit of what she remembered him to be. Her voice was quick to correct him. “It’s Nightingale now.”

Maleficent was a name she hadn’t heard in a while. Granted, because she hasn’t spoken to anyone in a while, but, unlike the tom’s voice, the name was unfamiliar to her ears. Unwelcome, too. It was a name shrouded in hate, a name bearing the meaning of malice, destruction, suffering. A name she’d given to herself to embody everything she knew she was bound to unleash on the world. She’d thought that if she couldn’t change herself, change that she knew she was put on this world to hurt others, she’d at least steer into the skid and embrace it.

Nightingale must’ve been braver then than now, because deep down she also knew that changing her name was a hopeless grasp at running away from her fate. And she knew that changing her name wouldn’t do a single thing against it. But she did it anyway, if not just to lie to herself and pretend that everything was going to be just fine. That she wouldn’t hurt anyone else again.

It seemed like the end of an era, but everything’s just begun.

“And you’re not alone anymore?” she glanced over at him, almost teasing, before looking back over at the meadow.

“I haven’t changed all that much.” Her voice was lower than before and her eyes flickered momentarily to her paws. She could deny it all she wants, but she knew that the anger within her has done nothing to disappear since Maleficent. Becoming better at masking it is all she’d been able to do. The want, the will, to watch others burn, to cause destruction wherever she went, was a fire glowing infinitely within her. The fire that enabled her to be so manipulative, so artful, so disgusting as to find out someone’s secrets and use them completely against them. To tear them apart.

That was something she enjoyed.

She was a monster.

And through the internal war, through the battles that her heart was raging against her mind, her fate, she looked up at the cat next to her and, in a hopeless act akin to changing her name, said something that could tell him everything he needed to know about her, if he could work it out.

“Which is why you’d be better off far away from me.” Her voice was quiet, almost mute.

[Loki]

A sense of mute suprise fell over the tom as he raised his eyebrows. A new name; a sickly smile crossed his face at the mention of it. Nightingale. It defines someone with a good, or sweet, voice. How fitting.

Silence fell in the gap between words. She had responded to the last thing he said, but waited to respond to the rest. After a few moments, however, her voice filled the air.

”And you’re not alone anymore?”

Her light tease brought another smile onto his face, and he turned it to her with mischief gleaming in his eye, responding in the same teasing, sarcastic tone. ”No…”

Then suddenly, her mood changed. Her voice lowered and lost its bright qualities; it was as if a dark cloud passed over the sun. She spoke a single sentence, obviously referring to her past. Loki’s mind instantly started working, gears turning as he mentally went back to all their conversations. He winced to remember their last meeting, the meeting in the caves. When they first met, she had gone out of her way to extend him a branch of friendship, and he had thrown it into her face when they met again. He was lost, though. He didn’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind.

And he felt he should apologise.

However, she spoke again. His ears swivelled to pick up the almost muted words. Another simple sentence, yet it held so much meaning. He could infer about her past, about what she was, but she was as a mystery to him as he was to her. He, however, remembered her collar. The kind of litter she came from, there were bound to be brothers and sisters. How many, he guessed four, but could most likely be incorrect. She must’ve been close to them, before she left them and it tore her to pieces. She tried covering the pain with something that became her being: destruction. It would be nearly the same story as his own… nearly. Perhaps thats the reason she thought she was a monster, her love for chaos.

Loki couldn’t help it, a light chuckle broke his lips and his eyes turned to her. ”All those things you wish you could do, all those things you want to happen, those gruesome thoughts…” A dark expression crossed this face, his partially raised eyebrows dropped and his face became steely. ”I’ve seen them, I’ve done them. I’ve commited almost every horrible thought you can think of.” His eyes darkened even further, and if he were his brother, the sky would be black with a thunderstorm. ”So it seems, maybe you’re not as bad as you think you are. Because there is a murderer, a killer, a torturer sitting right next to you. And I have to listen to their screams, their voices and their shouts of pain every night before I fall asleep, and I wish out of my whole being I could go back and be in your shoes.”

He sighed, dropping his head quickly before bringing his eyes back to the sky. ”There. There they are, those secrets you’ve been trying for ages to discover yourself.” A nearly sorrowful expression came onto his face now and he met her almond eyes. ”Were they worth it?”

657 || wow

© to Vel

[Nightingale]

There it was. The secrets she’d so tiredly searched for, the questions that would keep her up at night finally answered, right when she thought she was over this stupid, youthful wish to know everything. Nightingale suddenly realised she wasn’t. And she realised, her stomach twisting in upon itself, that Loki had been down the path she was headed for. This path that showed up in her dreams every night, lit up with effervescent fireflies, enticing and mysterious. The path divulged from her want, her wish, her need to distract herself from all the emptiness within her by causing everyone else pain so her own pain seemed lesser by comparison. Her need for destruction.

Stardust blue eyes against glowing green, the cold white flame within her ribcage faltered for a second as she registered the expression on the tom’s face. The fireflies of the path dimmed, the hatred inside her wavering as she, for the first time, considered that maybe there was another way. Maybe causing more pain isn’t the only way to get rid of your own. But the memories of Sparrow, of her own mother denouncing her in front of their entire kingdom, of her father calling her a disgrace flashed before her, adding fuel to the fire within her and it roared, doubling in size and for a second, her eyes blazed.

“Were they worth it?”

She glanced away from his eyes.

“That was quite a fight you put up,” she avoided the question, instead choosing to refer to the many fruitless attempts she’d made at figuring out his secrets. Her heart was still thudding at the sudden anger that filled her, crashing like a tidal wave through her body, and she had to brace her paws against the ground to calm herself down.

He was a murderer, a self-proclaimed killer, a torturer, even. And while many wildcats have stated the same to put up a fearless front, he was the first cat she’s believed. And Nightingale doesn’t know how to feel about it.

Most cats would be scared sitting beside a murderer. But she isn’t. And maybe she should be, for her own sake, but she knows, deep down, that he wouldn’t hurt her. And she knows, deep down, that he isn’t someone she can afford to lose, because he is the only cat she has ever met with demons so similar to hers. The only other cat she’s ever met with such an incline towards destruction and chaos. 

"Save me."

||that was a reference to a bts song heyoo||

[Loki]

Green eyes watched her react to this given information. With one glance away from him, she responded with a simple sentence. It made him smile. As he tilted his head in the slightest, he continued to watch her fight against something within her. The anger that had previously flashed before her eyes had faded, but not entirely. She was simply, struck, it seemed, by what had come form his mouth. And then, two words uttered changed the tides of their entire relationship. Two words: save me.

Something broke within Loki's heart. This was a difference he had only ever seen in one other cat, his brother. The difference which separated them from the rest of the world. The sentence that said, "I don't care what you've done, I don't care what your past may be like, but you're here now, and that's all that matters." The tom's eyes softened, and his face contorted slightly to a sorrowful expression, but he did not let it last. A scheme came to mind, a plot found root in his brain, and he intended to follow it through.

"I may not be able to save you here, but come with me and I will show you who I truly am. Look around, we are the only ones here. I'm not entirely sure what has happened, but I'm afraid it might happen to us. Come with me, and I'll tell you everything I know. It's almost fruitless to keep secrets from you." His brilliant gaze finally lost contact with her, and he looked away towards the brilliant sunrise. For some reason, he felt he trusted this cat. She had extended a branch of friendship when no one dared try. She continually came back to try to unsolve the puzzle he was. She reminded Loki so much of his brother that it was almost unthinkable to leave her behind in a wasteland such as this. They both shared a heart, yet she also held a quality, not unlike his own. It made him curious.

And he intended to delve in that curiosity. "I ask for one thing in return: answers." Turning his eyes back to her, he leaned towards her slightly. "Everything I know about you I've... inferred. Yet I call it fact. I guess I just want to hear it from your mouth, instead of my thoughts." A twinkle found his eye and he leaned back once more. "So, what do you say?"

410

© to Vel

[Nightingale]

Nightingale had left everything she’d ever known before, when she was barely six moons old and nothing but a tiny hint of what she would become later on. Uprooted from the place she was born and raised, torn away from the only cats she had ever known in her life. Thrown wildly into the forest, without knowing where she was, what was going to happen and no idea of whether or not she was even going to make it through the night. Cold fear lurking through her body with every unbelievably exposed step she took through the woods. The uncertainty, the dread, the vulnerability lacing every movement… maybe once in a lifetime is enough. She’s already had her fix.

And most surprising of all, she had done it to herself.

Nightingale was suddenly reminded of who she was. The same cat who was brave enough to take that leap across her kingdom’s borders, into the darkness that everyone she had ever known warned her would be the death of her. Thriving like a wildflower in summer rain when she was told that she wouldn’t even last a week. She remembered the rush in her blood as she bounded through the woods, the wind rustling through her fur, the sun on her pelt and the wildflowers at her paws. And she was brought back to reality.

“I’ll come with you.”

Her eyes went to Loki, stardust blue gleaming brighter than ever as she listened to his next words. A smile crossed her face. An eye for an eye, after all. He tells her his secrets and she tells him hers. Amusement laced her voice as she responded.

"I don't know," she meowed, voice teasing. "I'll have to think about it. I might make you work for it like you made me~"

And she broke into a laughing smile, eyes sparkling.

"Okay, Loki, you win. I'm yours."

dang i keep referencing songs

[Loki]

Her words relieved him. For all that he had done to her, he was afraid she would decline. There was no reason to trust him, he was as untrustworthy as a person could get, yet she did. For some odd reason, she did. She was going to follow him, they were going to leave this dead land, and they might never return. It was a slightly sad prospect; Loki had been through so much, had grown so much in this land. Yet, this land held many terrible memories for him, as well, memories that he would like to forget.

Then she began to tease, and he couldn't help but nearly laugh. Teasing the god of mischief, it was nearly unheard of, yet she didn't know what he was. And he wished he could keep it that way, but she had always wanted to know. He wished so wholeheartedly he could hide his story from her, but he had already agreed, and as for her, she would tell him about her, as well. An eye for an eye, but was it really entirely fair? For her, yes. These were her deepest darkest secrets. For him, he had no idea. He had been alive for an extremely long time, he had a high stack of dark secrets.

Yet he hadn't told anyone. Maybe it was time he had. Of course, Thor knew about most of them, but not all. No one but himself knew them all. Now someone else would know. And would she know what to do with them? Would she use them against him? Loki didn't think that was entirely possible. Words were just words, and he could easily manipulate someone else into thinking they weren't true, even if they were.

No, it was time someone knew. Her last words struck him. Had he really won? He tilted his head slightly, his green eyes scanning her for any other reaction or sense of doubt. There was nothing, just... nothing. It was a nice change from what he had lived his whole life. He took, twitching an ear, and cracking the smallest of one of his mischievous smiles. "Then let's go."

366 || mmm this sucks

© to Vel