Chapter Text
Loathe as he was to admit it, Loki didn’t hate his talks with Mantis as much as he thought he would.
He had assumed that she, like so many others, would try to “understand” or “fix” him. They’d craft each sentence so carefully, desperately trying to hide their attempt to dissect his psyche. They were all fools. Did they really think he would not recognize his own methods when they were used against him?
Mantis did no such thing. When she asked Loki a question about his likes and dislikes, or told him about what she saw Peter Quill and that raccoon creature doing the other day, there was no hidden meaning. No subtext, no unspoken questions. Everything she said was, as far as he could tell, completely and utterly genuine. It was almost…refreshing.
Loki was still nowhere near comprehending why the former Celestial Madonna had given up her position, but little by little, he began understanding more about the alien. She was significantly less boring than he’d thought, for one. He saw hints of a more mischievous side to Mantis here and there, but it was one particular conversation where she really let it show.