[When you've lived long enough, and managed to do something which garners enough attention, people tend to tell stories about you. In a way, all of these stories are true and untrue. Many claim that the greedy Collector has hoarded so extensive a Collection that it spans across entire planets. Others insist that he keeps all manner of creatures and relics, to preserve them from an oncoming cataclysm and, should this scenario wipe out all other life-forms, he would relinquish full possession of his assets to the beasts and humanoids he'd gathered. As it has been stated, both are true and untrue.
After his Museum on Knowhere had gone kablooey, Taneleer Tivan has tinkered with the Godhead's budget and means of generating more funds. (This has generally entailed nurturing business relations with other planets, selling some remaining artifacts to insure that the workers wouldn't have to take pay-cuts, and developing realty and tourist venues.) The Collector, with an expression austere, leads this latest guest into one of his many experimental suites. For a goodly sum, one could spend the night in one of the many exhibit rooms replicating chambers from other, notable locales throughout the galaxy. One such room contained a painstakingly crafted recreation of an Ancient Egyptian pharaoh's room (very popular among aliens who'd missed this favorite vacation spot from its heyday). Another has an homage to the Sovereign High Priestess' gilded bedchambers.
This particular set-up may or may not strike a chord with this former prince and former king (depending on whether or not it has been suitably constructed). All browny-brass with smoky, Celtic symbols licking up walls and dark, wooden furniture alike. There's a massive bed with clean sheets. Behind this bed, there's even something of a balcony with white stone columns and a view overlooking a flickering, holographic powerpoint presentation of various paintings (all rendering scenery from all Nine Realms).
The small, plastic plaque by the door insists that this is an Asgardian bedroom.
Entering with his right arm extended, Taneleer introduces his latest asset to their new cage,] It seems only appropriate to allow the Nine Realms' former king use of the Tivan Collection's Asgardian lodging, so carefully constructed from stories one hears of your grand palace and their legendary accomodations.
[After his unfortunate departure from the Bifrost and subsequent arrival on Knowhere, Loki had moved through several different mindsets very quickly, shockingly similar to the five stages of grief: disbelief that he'd arrived anywhere livable; anger in every direction but particularly against the man who stolidly refused him assistance; bargaining his services for that assistance to no avail; a brief period of depression when he realized the inevitable; and now finally acceptance, if a subdued kind of acceptance.
The plaque is what has attracted Loki's attention and he stares at it for a long time before walking past it, through the door and into his new environment. For that is what this will be, is it not? A familiar replica, intended to make its native species feel at home? There's a little bloom of smugness in knowing he is not, in fact, a true native to this environment but a transplant, but the feeling is brief and unsatisfying. For all intents and purposes, this is as accurate as any environment would be.
He examines it with the critical eye of an expert, nodding in grudging approval.]
The stories you have heard speak truly. I myself have spoken to guests in rooms similar to this. Thank you for your hospitality. [At least it will be a more comfortable prison than his cell on Asgard, that white fishbowl.] And will we speak again tomorrow?
[Oh, excellent. The Asgardian approves of his new Asgardian environment. Having taken in a very wide berth of critters, Taneleer recognizes these stages Loki's going through. Sucking-up, failing epically, getting frustrated, losing more epically, and accepting their situation. Seeing that Loki most definitely has entered that last phase, the Collector recognizes all too well that this can't be some tactic to butter him up.
Ah, ah, ah! The Collector just can't help but ball his hands into fists and shake them. It's kind of a reflex. Not even the scientists of Knowhere figured exactly why this is a thing that happens.] Look out the balcony, for a moment--[And...you're in for a treat, Loki.
A portrait of a Midgardian night skyline folds itself up into a paper airplane and...oh...oh! It flies away!] So splendid, the capabilities of PowerPoint 2013. [Where is the sarcasm in his voice?
No, seriously. The way this old dude sounds, it seems like he sincerely considers this to be one of the apexes of human achievement.
In its place, there now remains a tasteful landscape painting of some bluey, hoary Jotunheim peaks.] Beautiful.
[And, now: there's a question, right? Ah, yes, right. Waving it off, maybe a little too casually,] If I have time, there's some things I should like to speak with you about. But there is one more thing that I must demonstrate to you--[This billions year old dude practically shuffles off to a very curvy, very dark bedside table, retrieves something from its surface, heads back to this guest, and, with very little warning, snaps very silvery, minimalistic bracelet over this Asgardian's wrist.] This is customary for guests. You hit the button, [He points, to a small, raised circle,] and you may ask for room service. Food or inquiries. If you left these quarters, this will allow you into exhibits that may be closed during normal operating hours. If you head into a restricted area, you will receive a warning. If you disobey the warning and continue crossing a forbidden threshold, you will sound an alarm.
[Loki watches with a blank expression as the image flies away, and his eyes move from the view to the Collector and back again. Not for the first time, it occurs to him that his captor, or keeper (or whatever title might be appropriate) is very likely not entirely sane. By anyone's standards. Neither is Loki, not at this point, perhaps not ever, but the Collector puts his modest insanity to shame.]
Ingenious. Certainly more diverting than the real thing. [Where else could one watch the wastes of Jotunheim disappear into a star-shaped hole, only to be replaced by the ranging forests of Alfheim? With luck, there are Asgardian vintages in this place to assist him in finding entertainment in sitting and watching, guessing which realm will appear next and how it will disappear.
The view actually distracts him long enough to keep him from noticing he's about to be accosted by jewelry, and it's quick thinking indeed to push back the automatic response of reaching for a knife. He's had an eventful few years, let alone the last few hours, no one could blame him for feeling jumpy.]
Convenient. And so much easier to find a guest, should you wish to speak with one while they are out touring your exhibits.
Very, [Taneleer Tivan insists, in a normal tone because cuffing people up and monitoring their movements is so what normal people do, right? It's very obvious, looking at the way that his eyes practically gleam and his attentions are so wholly absorbed by this bracelet, that the Collector is very proud of this pressie he's lent to Loki. It's almost tasteful looking, this dark and silvery cuff. A design of his own making.
Since he cannont Collect his Museum's guests, this is about the closest that he can do to contain them.] I simply must tell you what should happen to you, if you dare stay a minute in a restricted area. Most of my guests are required to sign waivers before checking-in, informing them of such a thing--but you aren't a paying customer. I have simply welcomed you into my abode, [he strokes the bracelet, so tenderly, as one does their lover or a pet, and his tone grows all the more intimate and dulcet.] If you remain too long in a restricted area, this piece will run a fair amount of electricity through your body. Not enough to kill you (I've researched and adapted this piece to suit Asgardian usage), but it will subdue you. And you would have to wait until my Chief of Security, his team, or I release you. We are all, unfortunately, very busy this night and it might take some time for us to reach you. It would be such a shame if you were too badly damaged before my Brother's forces came to pick you up.
[Yes, for a shackle it is quite attractive, sleek, somehow dangerous-looking. It only adds to the sense of possession Loki has already resigned himself to, and the way the Collector admires the way it looks on his wrist makes him uncomfortably certain it might stay there for a long time.
Commendably, his breathing stays steady throughout the Collector's delighted explanation of what horrors will be visited upon him if he tries to cross his host, or indeed do anything against his wishes.]
Considerate of you, Collector, to so tailor your devices to your guests. Your attention to detail is unparalleled. [The question remains as to whether or not Loki will be testing it, but he absolutely believes that he will be left in agony for hours if he oversteps in his testing.
So he'll simply need to find another way to test it besides lingering in the restricted areas. He has ideas already, but he isn't fool enough to try with Taneleer still present. He'll wait an hour at least.]
I must thank you again for your generosity in accepting me under your roof. [Because he'd heard that, and it's best to stay on the Collector's good side and err on the side of thanking him once too often.] But I take it I am allowed to explore, within those confines? Your Collection draws my curiosity already.
[Good job keeping that breathing at a normalish pace, Loki. There have been many larger, more intimidating creatures in your position that have lacked this same constitution.
Taneleer basks in this gratitude, preening just a little. All day, he consorts with miners, an attendant, and numerous specimens in his Collection? He pays them, tends to them. Do they ever really thank him? No. One more loving tap of that bracelet and, then, Taneleer lets go, looking to this other man.] You are free to educate yourself, Loki of Asgard. So long as you remain out of the restricted areas. Under your bed there are several volumes of guidebooks to my Collection and what is contained therein. These guides were chosen especially for Asgardian interests.
[And, just to demonstrate, Taneleer heads over to this dark wooded bed, rustles underneath, pulls out some junk, and tosses roughly ten books onto this Celtic-looking comforter. They're all pretty thick, these individual volumes. Some focus on nice, local bars to have a good drink. Others emphasize weapons collections, littered throughout these facilities.] Is there anything in particular that you're looking for in my Collection? So long as it isn't the hangar, I'd be happy to point you in the direction of something related to that interest.
[That preening doesn't go unnoticed. The almost-fawning gratitude is being appreciated, as Loki had hoped it would be. Slowly but surely, this impression of Taneleer Tivan is growing. He may never learn enough to find the ways to sidestep or outwit him, but he may not need to. All he needs to do is survive this man, and then his brother. There is quite a lot Loki is willing to do to survive.
The cordially interested smile stays in place as guide books to drinking, armor, and weapons appear. The temptation to say "the Aether" seizes him strongly, but Loki has not yet reached the point of reckless sarcasm. Instead, he picks up one of the books and glances through it, almost successfully hiding his surprise at this evidence of the sheer breadth of the Collection.]
In fact my own interests lie in the magical realm. Illusion, defense and battle, shape-shifting, other magical arts. I have not furthered my education in that area for a very long time. If you permit it, I would be loath to let this opportunity to explore pass me by. [A little self-deprecating smile.] I have rarely been absorbed only in Asgardian interests.
[Well. He is momentarily too distracted to recall keeping you at an arm's distance and under close surveillance, Loki. There is something blocking his view, preventing him from seeing you snake and squirm your way into a favorable position.
What is that, in his way...ah, yes, the size of his ego. It happens a little more often than is desirable. Taneleer Tivan is about as old as most people guessed and even moreso (by millions of years), it's gotten kind of hard for him to keep things like this straight. Ooh, and getting him off topic with fascinating bits of his Collection really isn't helping his case. But that last mention of shapeshifting draws a very curious eye from Taneleer Tivan, a glance turned into a stare that, rather abruptly with a clap of his hands, transforms into the least graceful transition ever.] Yes. Well. I have been expanding my Collection and made recent purchases that should interest you. From a region in one of your people's so-called Nine Realms, on the planet Terra. Some artifacts from the mystical Kamar-Taj, a place that I've been growing much more interested in. As of recently.
A beautiful statue almost resembling a Makulan. Fascinating restraints. A brazier--that I have yet to identify the purpose of. But none of this has successfully satisfied my appetite for examining the realm further. [Namely to locate an artifact, of course. An object of legend that is said to control the flow of time.]
[It hadn't been Loki's original intent, but getting the Collector sidetracked talking about his collection will serve Loki's purposes neatly as he tries to find the best way to get what he wants. But he hadn't missed that stare (who could?) and can't help but wonder what he'd said to prompt it. Shape-shifting? Is that of particular interest?]
Terra. [He repeats the name with no recognition, which of the Nine Realms might he mean? After a moment to think about the word, Loki's face clears.] Oh. Yes. My people call it Midgard. I am somewhat familiar with it, though my wish to grow more familiar had been...lessened, until now. I don't know this Kamar-Taj you mention, I should like to see these, these Terran artifacts. And hear the story of their acquisition, if you would indulge me, but of course I should hate to keep you from anything important.
[He has his reasons, Loki, but he is the Collector and, as his moniker suggests, he will keep this to himself. As grabby as this odd little introduction has been (keep your mind out of the gutter), for this next demonstration, Taneleer holds up his own wrist, directly mirroring the arm of Loki's bearing that new piece of jewelry. His other hand wraps around this wrist, fingers poised and ready to gesture as they will.] There are some pressing matters that want my attention this night, Loki of Asgard. But, if you tap on that bracelet four times, in the same spot, [Taneleer proceeds to do so, with his own hands,] wherever you are in the Museum, a pre-programmed hologram of myself will be able to guide you and share such things with you.
You may try it here, if it would interest you to test such a thing out.
Two of you, in the same place? Could anyone stand the excitement? [So of course Loki immediately tests it out, tapping the bracelet as demonstrated. The hologram springs to life, glowing and translucent but otherwise identical, offers one of Taneleer's signature elaborate bows, and immediately begins speaking about the Asgardian living space in which it finds itself.]
Ingenious. And once again, you are so considerate to your guests when you cannot accompany them personally. [Loki eyes the bracelet, taps it once and twice, and looks quietly satisfied when the hologram pauses. It's possible he feels greatly satisfied to bring it to a halt, but he's careful to mask that as simply being pleased at knowing how it works.] I believe I have everything I need.
[Besides freedom and an army to reclaim Asgard, but it's been hours by now. Thor is almost certainly dead and Asgard either in ruins or bowing to its new queen. All that really remains is his own survival. Familiar territory.]
[There's a rather sizeable difference between Taneleer and this hologram, which, perhaps, wants some noting. His image, much like the rest of his likenesses in promotional pictures and the like, is all-smiles. This hologram lights up in more ways than one, positively effusing, moving his hands too actively and speaking in a tone reserved for kindergarten teachers.
It had taken quite a few drinks and many weeks for Taneleer Tivan to tolerate recording any of this and copying it all onto a machine that could, say, hypothetically, survive the collapse of a neighboring star.
Taneleer's expression fades a little, as he watches that ghost of his at work. The actual flesh and bone man just barely perceives Loki's honeyed words and almost takes no notice, until his own spectre echoes these same words.] Loki of Asgard has informed us that he has everything he needs. That's your cue to trot off to your other appointments, sir! [Taneleer blinks twice, contemplating, for a moment, about tweaking this AI to make it less obnoxious; and then, recalling his guest, he turns to Loki and, slowly, lowers his head into a simpler bow.] Yes, I'll be off. Do...watch yourself, former Prince and former King.
[Without lifting his head, the man known as the Collector pivots on the balls of his feet, turning himself about, and, then, steps out of the room. Loki is now alone, save for this ghastly, grinning djinn summoned from his new bauble.]
[And Loki rids himself of the homunculus as soon as he possibly can. Watch himself, hmm? Well, while his mind might still be spinning plans and potential avenues of escape, that's become habit by now. He knows he's well and truly kept.
Former Prince rankles, however. Former King, yes, that he must accept as truth, but if Taneleer wishes to consider him a former prince, then former "prince" he will be.
The change in shape comes smoothly, considering it is a shape Loki has not worn in centuries. The armor is altered only enough to accommodate the new shape of the body, the hair is somewhat longer, but it is still unmistakably Loki. Loki as a woman, a Princess of Asgard. That's for your "former prince," she thinks as she walks out of the Asgardian bedroom exhibit. She summons the faux-Collector again and holds up a finger in warning.]
Take me to the Kamar-Taj exhibit, and no unnecessary prattle.
[It doesn't work, of course, but Loki does her best to ignore the unnecessary prattle as she follows the directions to see these Midgardian artifacts. She will walk the museum's halls until rest seems as though it might be a possibility.]
[As this creature that the Museum's guests summon from these bracelets acts as such an inaccurate copy of the illustrious Mr. Taneleer Tivan, let's, instead, call this odd beast by another name. From this point onwards, let us refer to Loki's current companion as Mr. Hologrameleer Tivan. Or Holly, for short.
Holly's all smiles, doing his best to oblige the guest and avoid saying anything unnecessary. Oh, no, he's only sharing the most fascinating stories and most relevant histories that have been programmed into him.] ...the name 'Kamar-Taj' comes from the Arabic قمر تاج meaning "moon crown". Local legends say that it is the birthplace of a great sorcerer, the first of a long succession of great magic-users who carry the same title of "Ancient One". (Mr. Taneleer had a very good laugh, when he'd heard about that! He's run into so many revered 'ancients' and 'deities' in his absurdly long lifetime, but they never fail to bring something of a smile to his face.)
Anyway, so says the legends, this Ancient One and a friend discovered a source of magic; they had a spat over how to use it, and you probably already know where this one goes without me having to say it (oh, but I'm going to have to--it's the only way I've been programmed). One thing led to another, the Ancient One's dear friend mind-controlled everyone in a local village into his thrall, and, then, they say that the first Ancient One wound up poofing off their dear old friend into another dimension.
That's certainly one way to break up a friendship, [The other being laughs at his nonjoke, his sightless eyes nestling so comfortably between eyebags. In what feels like very little time to a hologram (admittedly without any perceptions of time programmed into his systems), they come across the first Kamar-Tajan artifact.
This has Holly terribly excited and clapping, like a sugar-high child coming across a purple pony.] Ooh! We've come across the first asset in the Kamar-Tajan exhibit--the fabulous Bands of Cyttorak! [They don't look especially fabulous; they look rusted, like dried, metallic centipede segments that have been separated and, then, glued together on a bit of metallic string.]
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After his Museum on Knowhere had gone kablooey, Taneleer Tivan has tinkered with the Godhead's budget and means of generating more funds. (This has generally entailed nurturing business relations with other planets, selling some remaining artifacts to insure that the workers wouldn't have to take pay-cuts, and developing realty and tourist venues.) The Collector, with an expression austere, leads this latest guest into one of his many experimental suites. For a goodly sum, one could spend the night in one of the many exhibit rooms replicating chambers from other, notable locales throughout the galaxy. One such room contained a painstakingly crafted recreation of an Ancient Egyptian pharaoh's room (very popular among aliens who'd missed this favorite vacation spot from its heyday). Another has an homage to the Sovereign High Priestess' gilded bedchambers.
This particular set-up may or may not strike a chord with this former prince and former king (depending on whether or not it has been suitably constructed). All browny-brass with smoky, Celtic symbols licking up walls and dark, wooden furniture alike. There's a massive bed with clean sheets. Behind this bed, there's even something of a balcony with white stone columns and a view overlooking a flickering, holographic powerpoint presentation of various paintings (all rendering scenery from all Nine Realms).
The small, plastic plaque by the door insists that this is an Asgardian bedroom.
Entering with his right arm extended, Taneleer introduces his latest asset to their new cage,] It seems only appropriate to allow the Nine Realms' former king use of the Tivan Collection's Asgardian lodging, so carefully constructed from stories one hears of your grand palace and their legendary accomodations.
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The plaque is what has attracted Loki's attention and he stares at it for a long time before walking past it, through the door and into his new environment. For that is what this will be, is it not? A familiar replica, intended to make its native species feel at home? There's a little bloom of smugness in knowing he is not, in fact, a true native to this environment but a transplant, but the feeling is brief and unsatisfying. For all intents and purposes, this is as accurate as any environment would be.
He examines it with the critical eye of an expert, nodding in grudging approval.]
The stories you have heard speak truly. I myself have spoken to guests in rooms similar to this. Thank you for your hospitality. [At least it will be a more comfortable prison than his cell on Asgard, that white fishbowl.] And will we speak again tomorrow?
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Ah, ah, ah! The Collector just can't help but ball his hands into fists and shake them. It's kind of a reflex. Not even the scientists of Knowhere figured exactly why this is a thing that happens.] Look out the balcony, for a moment--[And...you're in for a treat, Loki.
A portrait of a Midgardian night skyline folds itself up into a paper airplane and...oh...oh! It flies away!] So splendid, the capabilities of PowerPoint 2013. [Where is the sarcasm in his voice?
No, seriously. The way this old dude sounds, it seems like he sincerely considers this to be one of the apexes of human achievement.
In its place, there now remains a tasteful landscape painting of some bluey, hoary Jotunheim peaks.] Beautiful.
[And, now: there's a question, right? Ah, yes, right. Waving it off, maybe a little too casually,] If I have time, there's some things I should like to speak with you about. But there is one more thing that I must demonstrate to you--[This billions year old dude practically shuffles off to a very curvy, very dark bedside table, retrieves something from its surface, heads back to this guest, and, with very little warning, snaps very silvery, minimalistic bracelet over this Asgardian's wrist.] This is customary for guests. You hit the button, [He points, to a small, raised circle,] and you may ask for room service. Food or inquiries. If you left these quarters, this will allow you into exhibits that may be closed during normal operating hours. If you head into a restricted area, you will receive a warning. If you disobey the warning and continue crossing a forbidden threshold, you will sound an alarm.
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Ingenious. Certainly more diverting than the real thing. [Where else could one watch the wastes of Jotunheim disappear into a star-shaped hole, only to be replaced by the ranging forests of Alfheim? With luck, there are Asgardian vintages in this place to assist him in finding entertainment in sitting and watching, guessing which realm will appear next and how it will disappear.
The view actually distracts him long enough to keep him from noticing he's about to be accosted by jewelry, and it's quick thinking indeed to push back the automatic response of reaching for a knife. He's had an eventful few years, let alone the last few hours, no one could blame him for feeling jumpy.]
Convenient. And so much easier to find a guest, should you wish to speak with one while they are out touring your exhibits.
that icon tho, lovely choice
Since he cannont Collect his Museum's guests, this is about the closest that he can do to contain them.] I simply must tell you what should happen to you, if you dare stay a minute in a restricted area. Most of my guests are required to sign waivers before checking-in, informing them of such a thing--but you aren't a paying customer. I have simply welcomed you into my abode, [he strokes the bracelet, so tenderly, as one does their lover or a pet, and his tone grows all the more intimate and dulcet.] If you remain too long in a restricted area, this piece will run a fair amount of electricity through your body. Not enough to kill you (I've researched and adapted this piece to suit Asgardian usage), but it will subdue you. And you would have to wait until my Chief of Security, his team, or I release you. We are all, unfortunately, very busy this night and it might take some time for us to reach you. It would be such a shame if you were too badly damaged before my Brother's forces came to pick you up.
it was the best decision
Commendably, his breathing stays steady throughout the Collector's delighted explanation of what horrors will be visited upon him if he tries to cross his host, or indeed do anything against his wishes.]
Considerate of you, Collector, to so tailor your devices to your guests. Your attention to detail is unparalleled. [The question remains as to whether or not Loki will be testing it, but he absolutely believes that he will be left in agony for hours if he oversteps in his testing.
So he'll simply need to find another way to test it besides lingering in the restricted areas. He has ideas already, but he isn't fool enough to try with Taneleer still present. He'll wait an hour at least.]
I must thank you again for your generosity in accepting me under your roof. [Because he'd heard that, and it's best to stay on the Collector's good side and err on the side of thanking him once too often.] But I take it I am allowed to explore, within those confines? Your Collection draws my curiosity already.
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Taneleer basks in this gratitude, preening just a little. All day, he consorts with miners, an attendant, and numerous specimens in his Collection? He pays them, tends to them. Do they ever really thank him? No. One more loving tap of that bracelet and, then, Taneleer lets go, looking to this other man.] You are free to educate yourself, Loki of Asgard. So long as you remain out of the restricted areas. Under your bed there are several volumes of guidebooks to my Collection and what is contained therein. These guides were chosen especially for Asgardian interests.
[And, just to demonstrate, Taneleer heads over to this dark wooded bed, rustles underneath, pulls out some junk, and tosses roughly ten books onto this Celtic-looking comforter. They're all pretty thick, these individual volumes. Some focus on nice, local bars to have a good drink. Others emphasize weapons collections, littered throughout these facilities.] Is there anything in particular that you're looking for in my Collection? So long as it isn't the hangar, I'd be happy to point you in the direction of something related to that interest.
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The cordially interested smile stays in place as guide books to drinking, armor, and weapons appear. The temptation to say "the Aether" seizes him strongly, but Loki has not yet reached the point of reckless sarcasm. Instead, he picks up one of the books and glances through it, almost successfully hiding his surprise at this evidence of the sheer breadth of the Collection.]
In fact my own interests lie in the magical realm. Illusion, defense and battle, shape-shifting, other magical arts. I have not furthered my education in that area for a very long time. If you permit it, I would be loath to let this opportunity to explore pass me by. [A little self-deprecating smile.] I have rarely been absorbed only in Asgardian interests.
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What is that, in his way...ah, yes, the size of his ego. It happens a little more often than is desirable. Taneleer Tivan is about as old as most people guessed and even moreso (by millions of years), it's gotten kind of hard for him to keep things like this straight. Ooh, and getting him off topic with fascinating bits of his Collection really isn't helping his case. But that last mention of shapeshifting draws a very curious eye from Taneleer Tivan, a glance turned into a stare that, rather abruptly with a clap of his hands, transforms into the least graceful transition ever.] Yes. Well. I have been expanding my Collection and made recent purchases that should interest you. From a region in one of your people's so-called Nine Realms, on the planet Terra. Some artifacts from the mystical Kamar-Taj, a place that I've been growing much more interested in. As of recently.
A beautiful statue almost resembling a Makulan. Fascinating restraints. A brazier--that I have yet to identify the purpose of. But none of this has successfully satisfied my appetite for examining the realm further. [Namely to locate an artifact, of course. An object of legend that is said to control the flow of time.]
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Terra. [He repeats the name with no recognition, which of the Nine Realms might he mean? After a moment to think about the word, Loki's face clears.] Oh. Yes. My people call it Midgard. I am somewhat familiar with it, though my wish to grow more familiar had been...lessened, until now. I don't know this Kamar-Taj you mention, I should like to see these, these Terran artifacts. And hear the story of their acquisition, if you would indulge me, but of course I should hate to keep you from anything important.
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You may try it here, if it would interest you to test such a thing out.
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Ingenious. And once again, you are so considerate to your guests when you cannot accompany them personally. [Loki eyes the bracelet, taps it once and twice, and looks quietly satisfied when the hologram pauses. It's possible he feels greatly satisfied to bring it to a halt, but he's careful to mask that as simply being pleased at knowing how it works.] I believe I have everything I need.
[Besides freedom and an army to reclaim Asgard, but it's been hours by now. Thor is almost certainly dead and Asgard either in ruins or bowing to its new queen. All that really remains is his own survival. Familiar territory.]
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It had taken quite a few drinks and many weeks for Taneleer Tivan to tolerate recording any of this and copying it all onto a machine that could, say, hypothetically, survive the collapse of a neighboring star.
Taneleer's expression fades a little, as he watches that ghost of his at work. The actual flesh and bone man just barely perceives Loki's honeyed words and almost takes no notice, until his own spectre echoes these same words.] Loki of Asgard has informed us that he has everything he needs. That's your cue to trot off to your other appointments, sir! [Taneleer blinks twice, contemplating, for a moment, about tweaking this AI to make it less obnoxious; and then, recalling his guest, he turns to Loki and, slowly, lowers his head into a simpler bow.] Yes, I'll be off. Do...watch yourself, former Prince and former King.
[Without lifting his head, the man known as the Collector pivots on the balls of his feet, turning himself about, and, then, steps out of the room. Loki is now alone, save for this ghastly, grinning djinn summoned from his new bauble.]
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Former Prince rankles, however. Former King, yes, that he must accept as truth, but if Taneleer wishes to consider him a former prince, then former "prince" he will be.
The change in shape comes smoothly, considering it is a shape Loki has not worn in centuries. The armor is altered only enough to accommodate the new shape of the body, the hair is somewhat longer, but it is still unmistakably Loki. Loki as a woman, a Princess of Asgard. That's for your "former prince," she thinks as she walks out of the Asgardian bedroom exhibit. She summons the faux-Collector again and holds up a finger in warning.]
Take me to the Kamar-Taj exhibit, and no unnecessary prattle.
[It doesn't work, of course, but Loki does her best to ignore the unnecessary prattle as she follows the directions to see these Midgardian artifacts. She will walk the museum's halls until rest seems as though it might be a possibility.]
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Holly's all smiles, doing his best to oblige the guest and avoid saying anything unnecessary. Oh, no, he's only sharing the most fascinating stories and most relevant histories that have been programmed into him.] ...the name 'Kamar-Taj' comes from the Arabic قمر تاج meaning "moon crown". Local legends say that it is the birthplace of a great sorcerer, the first of a long succession of great magic-users who carry the same title of "Ancient One". (Mr. Taneleer had a very good laugh, when he'd heard about that! He's run into so many revered 'ancients' and 'deities' in his absurdly long lifetime, but they never fail to bring something of a smile to his face.)
Anyway, so says the legends, this Ancient One and a friend discovered a source of magic; they had a spat over how to use it, and you probably already know where this one goes without me having to say it (oh, but I'm going to have to--it's the only way I've been programmed). One thing led to another, the Ancient One's dear friend mind-controlled everyone in a local village into his thrall, and, then, they say that the first Ancient One wound up poofing off their dear old friend into another dimension.
That's certainly one way to break up a friendship, [The other being laughs at his nonjoke, his sightless eyes nestling so comfortably between eyebags. In what feels like very little time to a hologram (admittedly without any perceptions of time programmed into his systems), they come across the first Kamar-Tajan artifact.
This has Holly terribly excited and clapping, like a sugar-high child coming across a purple pony.] Ooh! We've come across the first asset in the Kamar-Tajan exhibit--the fabulous Bands of Cyttorak! [They don't look especially fabulous; they look rusted, like dried, metallic centipede segments that have been separated and, then, glued together on a bit of metallic string.]