Sometimes he likes to play with things he knows are too much for him. At times, they allow him to end up in good situations (getting into the Valley and working for the pink queen, having to electrocute his own body in order to stay alive, ending up with too many children to think about) but on this one incident it is too much.


He’d been messing with time (the time in his head, the time surrounding him, the time that presses against his aging body) and suddenly weeks flew by. He saw them out of the corner of his bruised eyes (flashing colors and shouts of noise and impending darkness and the obvious haze of time’s shadow) – days and nights and memories and events and social gatherings flying past his body with a blink of his eyes. He’d messed a little too much with the electrical socket and it had lashed out at him, in a sense.

The next breath he inhales is taken from a different point in time. He doesn’t know what has happened, exactly, but the smell of summer and the lack of much change around him suggests he’s only flown forward a few weeks. He blinks wearily, feeling a swaying feeling in his bones, but it fades after a couple of moments. Glancing around, the trickster licks his lips slowly in a faint sign of surprise before snuffing out a place to find a drink as if nothing ever happened.

Lokii

the tricky god of chaos