The urge to roll his eyes at Tony's staggering overconfidence is near maddening, and Loki only just barely manages to hold his tongue against comment. How bold it is to think that one's personal accomplishments on one planet could possibly eclipse those of an entire universe full of life and technology that Earth could scarcely fathom as possible. Humans are so remarkably arrogant.
But that's not the point of this conversation, nor is it where Loki cares to allow it to deviate when the picture Tony begins to paint with this information opens up too many other points of consideration. A world with an artificial workforce and those who built them were still foolish enough to give them room to think they could possibly be more than their base parts. Machines with emotional range, with the capacity for determining their own course of action? Loki would have to correct himself; humans are arrogant and stupid, proven yet again by this mess Tony thinks they have for themselves.
Or, perhaps, a mess Tony has already found first hand. Loki's eyes narrow, watching the way the other seems to lose himself for a moment, noticeably shaken by whatever his mind has resupplied for him, and--
Honestly, Loki could laugh at the absurdity of it, of how deeply, how personally, Tony has apparently entangled himself into this situation. Already drowning under matters that shouldn't concern him for no other reason than because he can't stop the way his heart bleeds, and perhaps this is why he looks so much wearier than the last time Loki saw him. Exhaustion is etched into the man, and for all that he remains the proud creature Loki remembers in New York the strain that weighs upon him is obvious for anyone who cared to look. Loki can't help but wonder who else has noticed.
A shadow crosses over Loki's expression for the comparison between himself and this machine Tony speaks of, something flickering darkly in eyes for the memory of the man who once came to Earth looking to own it. Mad with power, with fury and heartache and spite and fear, determined to meet his goal by any means necessary with unrelenting determination. Loki isn't that person any longer, not in this moment, but some things never truly leave a person. "I think I'm nearly flattered."
The sarcasm in his voice is clear, and there's a frown pulling at that edges of Loki's mouth as he considers the information before him, sifting through the implications of involving himself in something that has the potential to be a larger headache than Loki thinks he's really eager to suffer. "And you would ask me to do what, exactly?" He can't say he isn't curious as to what Tony's goal is here, or what the other things he could possibly achieve by involving someone like Loki in it. "Dismantle it? Risk myself to see this creation destroyed so you won't have to dirty your own hands before it finishes what it started?"
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But that's not the point of this conversation, nor is it where Loki cares to allow it to deviate when the picture Tony begins to paint with this information opens up too many other points of consideration. A world with an artificial workforce and those who built them were still foolish enough to give them room to think they could possibly be more than their base parts. Machines with emotional range, with the capacity for determining their own course of action? Loki would have to correct himself; humans are arrogant and stupid, proven yet again by this mess Tony thinks they have for themselves.
Or, perhaps, a mess Tony has already found first hand. Loki's eyes narrow, watching the way the other seems to lose himself for a moment, noticeably shaken by whatever his mind has resupplied for him, and--
Honestly, Loki could laugh at the absurdity of it, of how deeply, how personally, Tony has apparently entangled himself into this situation. Already drowning under matters that shouldn't concern him for no other reason than because he can't stop the way his heart bleeds, and perhaps this is why he looks so much wearier than the last time Loki saw him. Exhaustion is etched into the man, and for all that he remains the proud creature Loki remembers in New York the strain that weighs upon him is obvious for anyone who cared to look. Loki can't help but wonder who else has noticed.
A shadow crosses over Loki's expression for the comparison between himself and this machine Tony speaks of, something flickering darkly in eyes for the memory of the man who once came to Earth looking to own it. Mad with power, with fury and heartache and spite and fear, determined to meet his goal by any means necessary with unrelenting determination. Loki isn't that person any longer, not in this moment, but some things never truly leave a person. "I think I'm nearly flattered."
The sarcasm in his voice is clear, and there's a frown pulling at that edges of Loki's mouth as he considers the information before him, sifting through the implications of involving himself in something that has the potential to be a larger headache than Loki thinks he's really eager to suffer. "And you would ask me to do what, exactly?" He can't say he isn't curious as to what Tony's goal is here, or what the other things he could possibly achieve by involving someone like Loki in it. "Dismantle it? Risk myself to see this creation destroyed so you won't have to dirty your own hands before it finishes what it started?"