📖 The Immortal Gazette: Loki And Alice
Loki’s antics are never quite finished, are they? He loves nothing more than walking through 4EverMore in his usual mischievous style, blending in with the immortals like he's just another face in the crowd. With his trickster nature, he's often found lounging in places where you’d least expect, whispering secrets into the ears of those who think they have it all figured out.
Though the ruins had their divine purpose, Loki knew that the only real fun was in watching the chaos unfold. His disguise as an ordinary mortal gave him the perfect vantage point to revel in the drama of gods and mortals alike. When Thorvald and Freya stood before the altar, ready to unite the clans, Loki had already set his own plan in motion. The beast rising from the earth wasn’t his first trick of the day—far from it. In fact, Loki had been weaving his subtle magic behind the scenes, pushing everyone toward their fateful moment, all while pretending to be just another weary wanderer.
You see, the Nordic clans were a lively bunch, always on the move, always too proud of their gods and their legacies. Loki, in his human form—now with unassuming brown hair and a cloak of deep blue—walked through the streets of 4EverMore with the same carefree air that he’d carried for millennia. He’d flash that smile to a passing witch, share a drink with a wandering bard, and trick a few of the Day Walkers into losing their bets. He wasn't a god on a pedestal. No, not in this world. He liked to remind the immortals of that every chance he got. There was something far more amusing in seeing the gods and mortals alike forget just how tricky the trickster truly was.
Loki often arrived at the Immortal Gazette, where his stories—half truths and wild fabrications—kept the gossip flowing and the audience constantly guessing. He’d spin tales of forgotten heroes, devious plans, and the greatest pranks ever played by the gods. Some believed every word, while others just shook their heads in disbelief, never fully trusting the sly grin on his face.
But behind the mischief and laughter, Loki understood the intricacies of 4EverMore more than most. The Nordic clans, with their storied gods, their runes, and their sigils—they were proud, yes, but they were also bound by rules, rules that Loki loved to challenge. After all, what was life if not one big game of deception?
While Hilda Snowheart, Thorvald Stormrune, and Freya Winterbloom felt the weight of their new bond with the divine beast, Loki was already thinking ahead. The True Sigil of Unity—he’d seen that before, in ancient times when he had been at the heart of the realms' most chaotic shifts. That sigil had been forged in more than unity; it had the potential to tear the very fabric of 4EverMore apart, if used in the wrong way. And who better than Loki to ensure that it was used just the right way?
Loki's days in 4EverMore weren’t spent in divine realms or in constant battle like his brothers. No, his greatest trick was always in playing the part of the humble mortal, wandering, drinking, laughing, and listening. He’d be there when the clans called upon their gods, weaving subtle chaos at the edges of every decision. Because no matter how many sigils were drawn, or how many gods blessed the clans, Loki knew one undeniable truth: even gods are bound by their own tricks.
And so, Loki roamed, lived his life among the immortals, slipping through the cracks of reality with a wink and a laugh, all while making sure that no one—not even the gods themselves—forgot who the true master of mischief was.
At the Immortal Gazette, Loki’s days mostly consisted of lounging on the couch, making himself far too comfortable for a mere “staff member” of the paper. He’d kick his boots up on the coffee table, swirling an empty mug in his hand while pretending to listen to the latest absurdities that had made their way into the office. And that’s when Alice would come in, with her mad cap energy and her cup of tea—always spilling it, of course—and Loki’s attention would flicker to her like a spark to dry tinder.
He hadn’t admitted it yet, not even to himself, but there was something about Alice that stirred a deep, primal part of him. Maybe it was the fact that she, in all her madness, was the only one who truly didn’t take him seriously. She wasn’t scared of him, nor was she intimidated by the fact that he was a god. No, Alice had this way of looking at him as if he were just another peculiar puzzle to solve, just another riddle in her mad, swirling world. That made her even more irresistible.
As she walked into the studio one day, tea sloshing out of her cup as she threw her head back and laughed, Loki couldn’t help but flash that half-smile of his, his auburn hair falling in just the right way over his eyes. He leaned back into the couch, kicking his feet up, his goatee twitching with amusement.
“Oh, Alice,” he drawled in that honeyed voice of his. “One day, you're going to spill all that tea on something important, and I’m going to have to be the one to save you, aren’t I?”
Alice shot him a glance, her wild, mismatched eyes narrowing as she set her cup down—carefully, this time—and flopped onto the chair opposite him. “Oh, Loki,” she replied, a playful smirk on her lips. “I’m sure you’ll be just thrilled to come to my rescue. But I think you might secretly be enjoying the chaos more than anything else. Besides, you’ve already seen me spill enough tea to drown an army.”
Loki laughed softly, and for a split second, he really couldn’t hide the affection in his gaze. It was fleeting, but Alice—being the astute Queen of Mad—didn’t miss it. She tilted her head at him, lips curling into a playful grin.
"Is that so? You do realize, Loki," she added, "you might not be the hero you think you are. Perhaps it’s me who has to save you from your own tricks."
“Oh, Alice,” Loki chuckled, lifting a brow, “the only thing that could ever save me from my own tricks... is you."
Her face froze for a moment, and he could swear she turned a shade redder—though she quickly hid it behind her usual feigned indifference. “Flattery will get you nowhere, my dear trickster,” she shot back, taking a sip from her cup, though her fingers seemed a bit more fidgety than usual.
Loki couldn’t help himself. He loved this game they played. There was something thrilling about the banter, the push and pull between them. They were both so alike in their chaos and unpredictability, yet so different in the ways they expressed it. Alice’s wild, unrestrained madness was something Loki admired, even though it unnerved him at times.
“You know,” Loki said lazily, as if his words didn’t carry much weight, “I’ve been around for a few centuries, and I’ve seen a lot of things. But I’ve never quite met anyone like you, Alice. Never quite had someone spill their tea and their secrets in the same breath.”
“Oh, please,” Alice snorted, leaning back in her chair. “You’ve definitely met someone like me. You just never admitted it.”
Loki smirked, swirling his mug again. “Perhaps. But I haven’t had the pleasure of working beside anyone as… unpredictable as you.”
“Mm, that’s because you like it,” she said with a knowing grin, poking him with her eyes. “Admit it, Loki. You can’t resist a little bit of madness every now and then.”
“Oh, I can resist,” Loki said with an exaggerated sigh. “I resist everything, Alice. It’s part of my charm.”
And just like that, the playful tension lingered between them—too quiet, too palpable to ignore. Loki hadn’t fully realized what was stirring beneath the surface, but Alice? She knew all too well. Somewhere deep in her heart—beneath the chaos and mischief and madness—she liked him. She didn’t need to admit it. Not yet, anyway.
Because while Loki could never resist a good challenge, Alice—wild, reckless Alice—was far more unpredictable than any trickster god he’d ever known.
And that was exactly why he was drawn to her.
