Well, I mean. You're new, I'm new. We're in the beginning stage of our relationship, and like I said, I'm just so happy to be here at all. Why force all these rules on you when we don't even know each other that well yet?
Ugh. Not hygiene, just bathing. Water bathing. I take these really cool sci-fi shower things, you don't need water and suddenly everyone is way into you more when you do!
[Loki is...actually quite relieved that this is how Betelgeuse feels about rules. It doesn't bode well for graduation necessarily, but at the very least it seems unlikely he'll anger his warden enough to get reassigned or, well. Worse.
So he actually manages a genuine laugh at that description, relaxing more fully than he has since the announcement was made.]
I think I understand. I'll keep that distinction in mind.
[He pauses for a moment, considering whether he has anything he'd like to take off the table conversation-wise. But the chances of bringing those things up making Betelgeuse more curious seem pretty high. Perhaps he'll simply ask to amend the rules should anything come up. Assuming he doesn't lash out violently instead...]
If you're satisfied with that list, I'm happy to agree to all of it. Is there anything else I should expect? [He pauses, suddenly remembering:] You'll be able to...track me now, correct?
[Betelgeuse, during Loki's pause, sits and gazes adoringly (and unnervingly) at him like he simply can't drink him in enough. This is his inmate. HIS inmate! And he's amazing and incredible and tall and good-looking and everything he could have ever imagined in a best friend.
They're going to be SUCH a great team]
Oh shit, will I?
[He doesn't even know. BJ wonders what his warden item might be. He starts to empty his pockets. Partially. All over the floor of Loki's room.
There are a disturbing number of living bugs in there. He seems to have a rolodex's worth of business cards. Black nail polish. Tiny bottles of arsenic, cyanide, and laudanum. Lighters, matches, and tinderboxes. A compact shaped like a fat beetle. Sandy, the (previously) sleeping sandworm who hisses and dives under Loki's furniture. Green hair dye. Loose change. Melted chocolate bars in their wrappers. Girl scout patches. The list keeps going.
He sits there pondering his stash, wondering which of these might be his warden item]
[Loki watches with wide eyes as Betelgeuse proceeds to turn his room-- which is already less than ideal given it resembles an Asgardian prison cell --into a hoard of miscellaneous objects. He actually feels his anxiety about all this ratchet up again at the very obvious reminder that Betelgeuse is a bit mad and unstable and fully in charge of him now.]
You really didn't-- you weren't told what it was? Is there some way you can summon it or something?
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Ugh. Not hygiene, just bathing. Water bathing. I take these really cool sci-fi shower things, you don't need water and suddenly everyone is way into you more when you do!
Also I like sand baths. Like chinchillas do!!
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So he actually manages a genuine laugh at that description, relaxing more fully than he has since the announcement was made.]
I think I understand. I'll keep that distinction in mind.
[He pauses for a moment, considering whether he has anything he'd like to take off the table conversation-wise. But the chances of bringing those things up making Betelgeuse more curious seem pretty high. Perhaps he'll simply ask to amend the rules should anything come up. Assuming he doesn't lash out violently instead...]
If you're satisfied with that list, I'm happy to agree to all of it. Is there anything else I should expect? [He pauses, suddenly remembering:] You'll be able to...track me now, correct?
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They're going to be SUCH a great team]
Oh shit, will I?
[He doesn't even know. BJ wonders what his warden item might be. He starts to empty his pockets. Partially. All over the floor of Loki's room.
There are a disturbing number of living bugs in there. He seems to have a rolodex's worth of business cards. Black nail polish. Tiny bottles of arsenic, cyanide, and laudanum. Lighters, matches, and tinderboxes. A compact shaped like a fat beetle. Sandy, the (previously) sleeping sandworm who hisses and dives under Loki's furniture. Green hair dye. Loose change. Melted chocolate bars in their wrappers. Girl scout patches. The list keeps going.
He sits there pondering his stash, wondering which of these might be his warden item]
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You really didn't-- you weren't told what it was? Is there some way you can summon it or something?
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Maybe. I have trouble remembering shit sometimes.
Uh.
It's supposed to beep if you die, I know that. We could kill you?
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I-- no. Is that-- is that enough of an issue that wardens need a death alarm?
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Well, I kinda. Killed at least three people when I was an inmate here so...sure, probably?
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I suppose we'll find your item when I inevitably die, then.
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HEY!
I could ask the Admiral what my item is!
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Right. Of course.
[...And since he might as well take advantage of the situation.]
Maybe once you've found it, it'd be better if I hang onto it. So you don't lose it again.
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[Those are benefits but surely there must be more to the items, right?]
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Besides, Hange is in a coma and I've got her item now anyway.
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Sure. Someone ought to keep you from giving yourself alcohol poisoning anyway. [A falsely put-upon sigh.] Luckily I have some experience in that area.
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Well, my gag reflex is currently working just fine, so I'd rather you didn't.
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I'm not much of a healer, if that's what you mean. But I don't mind using force as a preventative.
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Any other rules you wanna add to this thing, or is that a wrap for now?
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[Oh dear, he's in for something, isn't he?]
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Well, you've got my number if you need anything. I've got the Big Guy on speed dial so I can request shit for you now.
And if you run into problems, summon me. I'm an amazing meat shield.