Nope, characters still not mine.
Picking up immediately where we left off:
"Ok, then..." Sarmit was taking her time finding the right words in light of this new information. "Why do you call yourself Scholar?" she eventually asked.
Scholar raised one eyebrow ever so slightly. "Truth be told, Doctor, I did not call myself 'Scholar' until now. I did not call myself anything. I have been... a constant observer, you might say, for centuries of your time. I see all that passes as these other 'personalities' as you call them control our mind and body. Very rarely do the others relinquish control to me, and I never fight for that control. The only time I consistently surface, at least until recently, was when the one you call 'Prince' would read, alone and content, back in Asgard. If his thoughts wandered, he subconsciously allowed me to keep reading. I'm probably only here at the moment because no one else was willing to talk about our miserable time with Thanos in any detail."
"Right... Did the Prince never notice that you had turned pages, or did he just assume he had not been paying attention...? Can you even tell?"
"Well, I'm sure you've noticed that the Prince is a little oblivious when it comes to the rest of us, and even when it comes to the grimmer memories he has. I sometimes think it's intentional, like a politician ignoring the mutterings of the opposition in public. It isn't a weakness, but a skillful technique. The way I see it, he must ignore us in order to remain functional. Fitting in to the royal role expected of Prince Loki, second son of the Allfather and esteemed god of magic, is his soul in a way. There is absolutely no room in him for some of 'Loki of Asgard's' darker thoughts or 'Odinson's' emotional paralysis; there is no room for any madness of any kind in him, because madness, or certainly this 'Dissociative Identity Disorder,' is not an illness that occurs in Asgard, not an illness an Asgardian prince could fall prey to. Conveniently forgetting is much more permissible, and utilitarian."
He smiled slightly, then. "I help him, actually. I am able to share the memories I contain with the others at will, and to take up the memories the others try to cast away completely. I do my best to keep the harmony, offering up the information they need in order to carry on, keeping back some things that would hurt them, or cause us to make even worse decisions than we already do. Unfortunately, even I was not able to take on all the pain that lead up to our agreeing to the abortive invasion of your world; I apologize. The torment was too pervasive. I think we all must hold those memories, as we to an extent share all our... most intense memories." His gaze turned distant, then his lips curled in a sad smile. "The one you call Odinson was truly amazing in those months on that dead world. A traditional Asgardian would typically scoff at his raw emotionality, but he put both the Prince and Loki of Asgard to shame, willingly retaining his conscious control and enduring the pain for ages. He only gave up and let the others take over when Thanos' thugs in a moment of sick inspiration literally started to flay our skin... like a deer after a hunt." He shuddered slightly, and a hand moved to to his shirt, precisely tracing what Natasha realized in horror had apparently been part of a long surgical incision. Scholar looked back at Sarmit and carefully moved his hands to the armrests. "You see until then, he thought it was less important to escape Thanos than to prevent 'The Mask' from taking over and putting his own nefarious plots into action. That came to make a lot more sense in retrospect."
His voice had tinged just a trace bitter, though his face remained neutral and pleasant. If Natasha had to describe Scholar's attitude in one word, it would be "stoic." She mulled over what he had said, trying desperately not to dwell on the image of Loki's skin slipping off like a glove, while Dr. Sarmit also gathered her thoughts. Thankfully, she recalled something else, "Oh! When we first met Loki of Asgard and were discussing Odinson with him, he remembered something Odinson had said only after we asked him about it-you told him, didn't you?"
Scholar grinned. "Good catch, Agent Romanoff. Yes, indeed. Although, if I recall, Odinson was not actually the one you quoted to Loki of Asgard. I believe it was in truth the Prince. Loki of Asgard is only aware of Odinson, just as Odinson is only aware of Loki of Asgard, so they attribute all of the memories I give them to each other. I can only share with them what happened, not the feelings that developed with events. They must fill in the emotional response themselves." He paused, perhaps to let them digest this latest revelation, but then added, "By the way, 'Loki of Asgard' is far too long a moniker to use in casual conversation, not to mention confusing, since we are all Loki. Even Odinson's 'Mask' is better, though 'Odinson' itself could be improved. Why haven't you people come up with better names for us yet?"
Natasha shrugged and answered, "It's worked well enough so far."
Sarmit's eyes had narrowed, though. "Putting that aside for now, exactly how many are you-are there still more we haven't yet met that you know of?"
"Very good question, Doctor, and wise of you to ask it while you can; I can rarely tell when one of the others is going to take control, though I expect I will still be here a while yet. There are indeed others you have not met, or at least, you have not realized you met them if you have, I'm not sure if you noticed some of them. You know Loki of Asgard, Odinson, the Prince, and me. There are at least two others. One I might suggest you call 'Lady Loki,' for reasons that will be obvious as soon as you meet her. She's a charmer, as you Americans say." He chuckled delicately, but sobered quickly. "The other, I do not think you will like so well. He is quite new, and quite savage. He only emerged after we found out our Jotun heritage, and he has a visceral hatred for Odin, far more profound than even Loki of Asgard. Loki of Asgard's angst is primarily motivated by resentment towards Odin and Thor, and the repugnance he feels for Odinson's fear of the Allfather, from what I understand of them, at least. The new one from what little I've witnessed is fixated on perceived betrayal... I'm sorry I can't be more precise than that-he is too new. All he seems to do is formulate and launch attacks against Odin. I have known the others for so long-two years is not enough time to figure this one out sufficiently."
"You've given us quite a bit to go on, Scholar. I'd be pretty content if this was all you had to offer," Sarmit said. Natasha silently agreed; it seemed they were finally witnessing Loki's famed intellect to its full extent. And yet he was still dissatisfied with his understanding of his other selves. "But you mentioned something... you said there are 'at least two others' we haven't met, the lady and this new one. Do you think there could be more that even you don't know about?" Natasha hadn't even picked up on that phrasing, but from the open frustration now growing across Scholar's face, it had clearly been intentional word choice.
"Unfortunately, yes, and perhaps you will be able to help me with this problem. There are some times on Midgard, for perhaps the past fifty of your years, when I have no memory of what happened. The others are all too good at turning a blind eye to these sorts of inconsistencies to notice, but I see everything. My memory should have no gaps. I don't understand why it does. Either there is another personality entirely which is completely divided off from the rest of us, or else someone or something outside has deliberately taken steps to block my awareness. Whatever it is, it only happens when we are on Midgard-we are always already here when it starts, and still here when it stops... It is strange, isn't it? After centuries of just five of us, there are now possibly two more in just fifty years. Granted, a lot else has happened recently, but... I don't like the feeling that we are getting worse, fast." He fell silent, brooding. Natasha suspected that much of Scholar's time, however much he actually had to himself, was spent pondering this problem. He was clearly annoyed at his inability to find a solution, given the vagaries of effectively sharing a brain and body with five or more other people. She imagined he was quietly fearing the time when his mind was so fragmented as to be totally incoherent, a fate worse than death for anyone called "Scholar." Scholar sighed, then leaned forward with a new intensity, a note of pleading in his eyes. "If any of you notice that I am acting in a way inconsistent with what I've told you about us, please let me know. Remember, it doesn't matter who you are talking to. I will hear you. You must understand, I have to know."
"Of course we will say something," the women said together.
"Thank you."
There was a bit of a lull for a moment, before Sarmit spoke again. "I have never heard of anything quite like you in Dissociative Identity, Scholar. The identities normally have no awareness of each other and no memory at all of what occurs when another personality is in place..."
The Scholar smiled politely at her. "Well, until all of this happened to me, I had never heard of such a thing either, because I was living on Asgard, where none of this should exist. Never forget, my clever doctor, that despite the fact that your diagnosis does seem to fit me remarkably well, I am not actually human. I think we are lucky you aren't even more out of your depth. Also, I feel I should mention while I'm here, that the medications you have been giving us, antidepressants and antipsychotics I believe you said to Heather, are having absolutely no effect. I can already tell. You may not be ready to believe me for a while, I suppose, but you will see eventually. I'm afraid the chemistry of my brain is far more different from a human's than my psychology is."
"Well, I suppose that wouldn't be surprising, but I do want to keep you on them a while longer just in case something changes. I may also try some different kinds of medicines with different ways of working."
Scholar shrugged. "The drugs are causing no harm either, so I don't care."
"Ok then. Now, I have so many questions for you. I want you to tell me everything about yourself. If you have any more ideas about the motivations, origins, emotions, whatever of any of the others, I want to hear that too. However, from what you have said, I am aware that our time today may be brief, depending on when someone else comes through, so before we get into that, I have a few things I want to talk about first. Most importantly, if you are willing, please let us know any time you find yourself in control, so we can talk further. Day or night." Scholar inclined his head in instant agreement. "Second, do you have specific names for the others it would be helpful for us to use while you are observing?"
He snorted softly. "Not really-I didn't even have a name for myself. Odinson and Prince work well enough, I suppose. 'Lady' should be adequate for the female. I still don't like 'Loki of Asgard,' and I have no name for the new one that showed up when we discovered we were Jotun. Or for the potential other on Midgard."
The group thought for a moment in silence. Natasha smirked to herself and spoke up, "Since the new one is so anti-Odin, anti-Asgard, do you think it would be apt to describe him as a 'Loki of Jotunheim'?"
Scholar raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps, though I am certain 'Loki of Asgard' would not appreciate that name, and that retaining both of those names will become quite tiresome for you."
"So call them LOA and LOJ." And to Natasha in the privacy of her own mind, they could be LO-asshole and LO-jerk. It would be satisfying, at least. LOA was irritating, and LOJ sounded very unpleasant.
Scholar studied her. "Acceptable. I doubt 'Loki of Jotunheim' will ever hold a civil enough conversation to introduce himself as he would prefer, so LOJ it is."
Right. Natasha had to remember that though Scholar seemed likable enough, he was a neutral in Loki's inner war and didn't seem to actively dislike any of his counterparts. It wouldn't do to be too disrespectful in his presence.
Dr. Sarmit chimed in, disrupting Natasha's train of thought, "I think we could call the potential other Midgard identity simply your Alterego, since we have no idea as of yet what he or she is like. Or if this identity even exists as such. We can get more specific later if need be, but if we find out anything, that is the word I will use to alert you, Scholar. Agreed?"
"Agreed. I like it."
"Lastly, are you aware of any specific triggers that bring forth particular personalities, including you? Besides reading, I guess."
Scholar cocked his head to one side, thinking. "That is an excellent thought, Doctor. I will have to think about it further. Reading with the Prince is the only thing that comes to mind for me. The Prince himself is only present when things are relatively calm or he feels obliged to be present in some way. Royal duty, I suppose. He is hard even for me to pin down in that. The Lady is also unpredictable-it seems to depend partly on her taste in men, though she is also present more frequently when we have little ones around..." Scholar's forehead creased for a moment, but then smoothed over again as he continued. "I have no idea about the Alterego, as he is relatively new and mysterious, if he is even there. Here." He reached for Sarmit's notepad and pen, taking it before she had a chance to object. He flipped a page and rapidly wrote a list down the whole page in sharp and neat calligraphy. He handed the notepad back to Sarmit. "Those are all the dates and locations of memory disturbance that I recall. And I did use your American calendar. Perhaps you may notice a pattern for the Alterego that I missed. Moving on, LOJ I have only seen in Asgard, generally in the presence of Odin or Thor. LOA comes as he pleases now, so long as Odinson, or sometimes the Prince, does nothing to stop him. Odinson actually seems to be the most... dominant, you might say. Unless he willingly relinquishes control, I don't know that anyone else can take over from him, and he seems much more able to seize power when he needs to. And certainly, he is driven by powerful, piercing needs. He is... he reminds me of the Void, minus the innate terror: an apparently empty container that by nature has to rip substance away from outside to fill itself, yet is at the same time filled to bursting with this wretched harvest... and another pain and deeper love entirely his own..." Scholar's thoughts were becoming fragmented, and his face flickered with warring emotions. Natasha suspected they were losing him, but neither she nor Sarmit dared interrupt for fear of saying the wrong thing and hastening the transition. Fortunately, he seemed to recover partially. "I'm sorry, that probably made little sense. I confess that though I am eternal witness to our actions, I am not privy to the thoughts and feelings of the others, unless they make them evident. I have to guess. I almost have to guess more about Odinson, because he is less active, less articulate, more... just feeling. Odinson is certainly more likely to emerge when emotions are running high or the situation is hopeless... or both, as is usually the case with him... with us..." The implacable facade Scholar had maintained for the past two hours dissolved. Tears leaked anew from Loki's eyes. He slumped in his chair, and his hands clenched on nothing. He stared into space. "It wasn't real," he whispered.
With a small sigh of disappointment, Natasha rose and went to him, laying a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. "What wasn't real, Loki?"
He sniffed, and folded his arms around himself. "The baby. It's cracked and useless, just a pathetic, human model of what should have been mine. I was a fool." He bowed his head, and his shoulders shook.
Natasha hugged him. When he was like this, it was so easy to forget the other sides of him, though now her thoughts lingered on Scholar's dire description of this Loki's all-consuming needs. The vicious cycle of grief and infanticide was starting to make more sense. "Shh... it's okay, Loki."
"It isn't," he gasped. "I'm a prating fool, and I failed my child. Failed all my children. I am worthless. A monster beyond redemption." He pushed her away. "You should kill me, human. I wouldn't stop you."
"Hush. It wasn't all your fault..."
"Hah. Fools. Both of us."
"Can you talk about it with us, Loki?" Dr. Sarmit ventured. Her tone said she didn't expect much from her patient; they both recognized this as Odinson again.
"Leave me."
Author's note: Back to the Cap next time; definitely not to be published right away, because different spot, new characters talking-it won't be as easy as this chapter to write, since this chapter flowed directly from the last.
In other news, thank you, reviewers, I'm gratified you are enjoying this, and I hope you keep enjoying it.
