"I aim to please." Loki loved that phrase. Expectations were set with those words, and while maybe it didn't imply certitude, it certainly assured passion. Loki could get behind passion.
He looked at the back of his hand, turning and shifting it as he was witnessing something truly surprising. He dropped his hand and held it behind him, standing elegantly with his back straight before going back to watching Isaac moving through the shelves.
While Isaac did that, he walked comfortably in the other direction picking and putting back items that failed to keep his interest for more than a second. He came upon the lounge area, a neatly secluded part of the shop that somehow escaped the random chaos the whole place was plagued with—
Well scratch that because just before the entrance to the lounge was an eyesore of a throne, more of an oversized chair really, that was made entirely of melted swords.
"What an eyesore." He turned away from the caricature that was obviously the result of an overblown ego and walked back into the fullness of the shop.
He ignored the three-pointed gold crown studded with three red rubies(which apparently belonged to one Ice King, probably a Jötnar), not in the mood to dwell into whatever sinister curse was on the thing.
A good number of what met his eyes were either complete eyesores, or magical trinkets of no worth to him. The more interesting ones that held his attention for more than two seconds were barely a handful.
He held off his disappointment for now, idly noting that this was just a small section of the shop.
"Mr. Loki, sir, I have picked up some things that I am sure will interest you. Do you want to check them out now or should I leave you to your curiosities?" The polite question from Isaac, who stood seamlessly without Loki even noticing his presence, made him feel a slight pang of anticipation.
Loki gestured for him to lead the way, not at all interested in browsing through mundane magical items. "After you."
They arrived at the counter with Loki idly noting that something had definitely happened to the counter, otherwise there wouldn't have been enough comfortable space for the items on display on it. It was another point of intrigue for him because he hadn't sensed anything, magic or otherwise, that had probably been used on the furniture despite him standing nearby.
"An impressive collection, visually." He said, walking to the first one while tapping his finger along the table's edge. "Their worth remains to be seen."
The first was a golden helmet so pure that it gleamed a crystal-clear reflection like the surface of a still lake. Loki's finger hovered over the helmet, halting for a second as he looked at Isaac with a questioning look given the static hum tingled over the appendage at the close contact. He touched the helmet and his eyes widened.
He quickly composed himself but kept a strained glance at the helmet. It was… impressive.
—The Helmet of Nabu (DC): A golden helm housing the Lord of Order, Nabu. Grants immense magical power and knowledge. The price? Nabu may take control.
He couldn't really tell exactly what it could do but he had felt a cursory measure of its depth, and it was as great as it was vast.
Quietly, he moved on to the next item.
—The Crown of Horns (The Forgotten Realms): An evil and intelligent artifact of great power that is believed to have been forged by Myrkul, the former god of death. Donning the crown grants the wearer immense magical power, a bearing of death, immunity to necromantic magic, spells and all manners of death magic.
*Bewarned. Wearing the crown opens one to Myrkul's influence and corruption.
A very powerful artifact in its own right, but opposed to what others might think, he wasn't that enamored with death. To him the crown was lackluster in purpose as the only thing he would be slightly interested in was the knowledge of the spells and death magic, if only to satisfy his scholarly mind.
The next item on the queue was a wooden mask with a golden ridge running down from the middle of its head to the nose. It looked wholly unimpressive, but more than anything it was the name that interested Loki the most.
—The Mask of Loki (The Mask): A grand artifact of power belonging to the God Loki, personification of chaos, with most believing it isn't simply the deity's mask but rather the carved skin of his face. Donning it grants the wearer unquantifiable magical prowess and reality-warping powers. Everything is yours as you wish it.
Inviolability, invulnerability, immutability, cosmic awareness, narrative awareness etc. One don and the world is your canvas, literally, if you want.
*As a chaotic instrument, the wearer becomes chaotically inclined, becoming the ultimate embodiment of the aspect. Amplifies the wearer's identity. Absolute power, absolute chaos.
Loki's composure strained as he stood frozen in front of the wooden mask. More than any description, even without touching the mask, he could tell with his very soul that there was an undeniable thread of fate connecting him to the mask. It felt like something he was intimately familiar with, but at the same time grander than everything he had ever achieved.
He thought he heard a shrill maddening laugh as he stared at the mask but it was gone before his mind could focus on it.
Underneath the hardly disguised awe he felt towards the mask, there was also a sting of contempt towards it as his pride refused to acknowledge another Loki's name higher than his own….
Another Loki.
…. Another Thor. His eyes widened. Oh that conniving prick. That was the disconcerting feeling Loki had felt. That other hammer was Mjolnir itself, wasn't it? That was the reason why Thor felt fuller, despite himself.
When Isaac had said 'this dimension', Loki had thought he was talking about earth or the physical world in particular. No, he had meant this universe, didn't he?
This changed everything.
He composed himself with a deep breath and looked up at Isaac to him patiently waiting, looking entirely professional, whether or not he knew what had gone through Loki's mind the embodiment of deception couldn't tell.
Tentatively, he moved on. To the book that was bound in tanned something.
—The Book of Eibon (Clark Ashton Smith/H.P. Lovecraft): Ah yes, one of the proving cornerstones and repository of knowledge of the cosmic, the under, the blasphemous horrors from the elder eons and the nightmares that exist outside where creation died. A grimoire written by the sorcerer Eibon, containing spells that have existed before the first word was spoken, from a time before even the vaunted Necronomicon was scribed.
Dark spells and rituals, cosmic histories, accounts of the Elder Magi of Hyperborea, the life story of Eibon himself and his journeys to the otherworldly places and nightmarish dimensions, spells that draw power from the Dark and Old Ones and an index of all their names and titles, veneration rituals, and a treatise of theogony that discusses the origin of gods.
*DON'T.
*Eyes growing on your brains are the very least of what can happen if you dare glance at any part of this book. Madness is certain. Corruption is obvious. You don't own this book. You just become its latest sacrifice.
*And no, you're not strong enough to resist its corruption. Gods and elder monstrosities as old as the first dream have all tried and failed.
Loki blinked twice. Horror dawned on his face and dismantled his premature composure as his godly brain understood what kind of existence his eyes were looking upon.
In a flash of green, he was paces away from the counter with his posture contorting defensively for battle. His all black suit was gone and he was now garbed in a gold accented dark green regal attire with a glowing golden staff in his hand, pointing directly at the damned book—thing.
"What in Odin's beard is that thing!?" He shouted frantically, a look of dread that cut furrowing lines across his brows.
Loki was many things, but a fool – as well as an ignorant one – was not one of them. He was arrogant and ambitious, yes. Some contemptible swine might even call him delusional, but he digresses. What no one, not even his enemies, took him for was a fool. Evil and monstrous, absolutely so, but foolish was an appellation Loki did not ascribe to.
He abhorred ignorance and knew enough to know how little he knew that in knowing so, knew exactly where on the totem pole he was, and the nature of entities that were above it.
That 'book' was not part of the pole.
Isaac only raised a brow at his outburst and placed a hand on the book, making Loki's heart jump to his throat.
"Rest assured, sir. Junk 'N Stuff offers free protection service to every customer under its roof. I understand that a lot of these items can be extremely volatile and outright malicious in nature, but so long as they are under the shop's protection, they are completely restricted from influencing or harming the customers in any way."
"W-what?" Loki stuttered. What did that even mean? The book was still there and Loki knew with every part of his being as a god of lies that everything about that book was real, as well as the complete understatement it was.
"Please sir, I would advise you to lower the weapon. As long as you are inside my shop your safety is guaranteed. I give you my word as a Merchant." Isaac spoke, hand still on top of the book.
Slowly, extremely cautiously, Loki lowered his scepter, looking between Isaac and the book. Not even his ambitious heart wanted anything to do with whatever that book was.
"What are you?" The shop, the strange magic that offered to sustain him, the stranger objects on display, the strangest man that called himself a Merchant and offered fair trade — Loki knew soul-eating demons that weren't half as unsettling. Whoever this man was— for a second his mind schemed brilliantly until it halted itself with the memory of the book.
"A humble Merchant looking to ply a fair trade. Is there anything better one can hope for?"
A trade. Yeah, well, he never intended for one in the first place – he was the God of Thieves for a reason. That book said otherwise.
Isaac's smile grew weak at the edges. "My sincerest apologies. If you're that bothered by it, I do have other variants of it if you'd prefer that. While none of them are as in-depth or anywhere near as powerful as the original manuscript here, they are still extremely rare and powerful in their own regard. Would you li—"
"No need. And please, can you get that out of my sight. It's… offensive." Again what an understatement. By the Allfather, he was even more unsettling than the Collector. More approachable maybe, but when was that ever a good thing with beings like him in the universe, or whatever universe he was from.
"Of course. I apologize for my thoughtlessness once again." He gave a perfectly polite and crisp bow after which he snapped his fingers and the book was gone in a fume of black smoke. "If it's all the same to you, I'll like to include something else to take its place."
A sword took its place, a katana with a green hilt.
"It is one of my most fortunate acquisitions. It's a stroke of luck that I even managed to convince the owner for a trade. He was one tough business partner, that's for sure."
—Kyōka Suigetsu (Bleach): The titular soul blade of Aizen Sōsuke that granted him the ability of Perfect Hypnosis: absolute control and manipulation of every single one of the target's senses and perception. The ultimate illusory ability.
Distance and time are irrelevant when someone has fallen under Perfect Hypnosis. Neither is there any feasible way of breaking out of its illusions once under it.
*Completely optional add-on: Advisable for any potential buyer to possess godly intellect and strength for the best experience with this purchase.
He came over to the counter and sighed upon seeing the sheathed sword. It was relatively normal and more up to his speed than whatever that book tried to be.
He rolled his eyes. Illusions were his personality, not the only thing he was good at. That aside, he was no sword master like Sif or Fandral but just the general descriptions of the blade's capabilities made him consider it.
"A soul blade, huh. Those are very rare." A soul weapon sat at the top of unconventional weaponry and were all highly desirable. Not only could it be manifested at will, it was effective against ultimately every one. Every slash of it damaged the soul of whoever it cut, be they mortal or spirit. Even an astral projection could be harmed.
As he moved on to the next item, his mischievous brain started running new calculations on possible purchases as well as his financial levity now that stealing it out of the owner's hands was no longer a plan. He might as well rob the Mad Titan otherwise.
"Impressive." He complimented the blade. It truly was impressive. "And this?"
—Dog Talisman (Jackie Chan Adventures): This ancient talisman enables complete bodily invulnerability, and grants immortality and immense vitality, protecting the bearer from dragon fire, powerful chi attacks, and heavy blunt force impacts without sustaining lasting harm or visible damage to their body or clothing.
*Does not help with fatigue and loss of consciousness. All in all, not too shabby.
The medallion, while interesting to some degree, held no greater importance to Loki other than maybe a highly functioning protection charm.
However, if there was one thing that would stop him from wanting to buy it, it would be the name. He, Loki, did not find it particularly amusing to be wearing a dog's charm for protection.
"Compared to the rest, it is solely lacking." He said.
"Precisely so, good sir. It is more for general protection than anything hardhanded." Isaac agreed.
Loki glanced at the next item, a transparent cask filled with swirling purple mist, and turned to Isaac with a raised brow, asking in a flat dry voice. "Poison?"
Isaac chuckled. "Of course not. Why would you think that?"
Loki looked at the cask again and shrugged, stepping over to it to see what it was about, as he replied. "Aesthetic definitions."
Everyone knew that purple related more to poison than green.
—Dimension Lost (High School DxD): A Longinus created by God, capable of destroying the world with a good enough user. Dimension Lost is capable of creating a mist that can act as inviolable barriers or portals that, regardless of distance, transport targets to different locations or to pocket dimensions it creates, allowing the user to teleport themselves and others freely as well as create their own pocket dimensions.
Its dominion is unrivaled when it comes to spaces and barriers, the ultimate Sacred Gear in that regard as claimed by Azazel. The range of the mist depends completely on the bearer. To cover a room or envelope a continent makes no difference to it—only to the bearer's expertise.
Loki's spine straightened as he read the last sentence again, and then let it settle somewhere in his gut with a tag and a label.
"A god sold this to you? Somehow I find that hard to believe." Though Loki said that, and while normally that would be true, he knew exceptions could be made when it came to the things inside the shop.
Isaac shook his head. "A human actually. He was strangely enthusiastic about selling it, even more ecstatic with what he received in exchange for it."
"An enthusiastic fool then." He let out a scoff of derision. "How blithely human of them."
The last item, like the purple mist, was in a cask but this time it was a heart. A monster's heart to be precise. The faint wisps of magic that escaped the cask gave him an idea of what particular creature it belonged to before he looked over at it.
The heart of a mythical monster, this one specifically, wasn't a grotesque bloody fleshy thing. There was blood, but not all over it. Some part of the heart was translucent, some part of it was fleshy, another part was entirely made of water — and in the core center was a pulsating glow.
Even after being dead and slain, very few mythical and divine beasts could still retain a beating heart, and this one was the one most famous for it.
Loki breathed softly as he held up the cask and watched the soft glow.
—Hydra Heart: The stubborn beating heart of a Mythical Hydra. Just like the Hydra, this heart can be used for a lot of things; crafting, enchanting, rituals, an immensely potent magical/alchemical reagent—or just eat it. Consuming this heart grants you the mythical regeneration of the Hydra as well as hydrokinesis, an enhanced physiology, the embrace and blessings of the sea and all bodies of water.
Breathing underwater and understanding marine life becomes second nature. In addition, you possess 9 lives. Every time your heart or head is destroyed, you will almost instantly be restored to the peak of your health with all negative conditions cleansed. Any resurrection effect, Legendary rank and above, can be used to restore a life.
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A/N: Sorry for the delay. My QQ account got banned and I've been trying to get it back up with some back and forths with an admin but so far no dice. Fingers still crossed, so who knows?
I also crosspost on Spacebattle, FF and Ao3, same name and everything.