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The Great Escape
Aug. 25th, 2012 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
complicatedliarLoki returned to his senses in some sort of cell, though it was rather more pleasant than the dungeons of Asgard. He fought down a wave of disorientation and anger, hands clenching until his fingernails bit into his palms, and forced himself to think slowly of what had happened.
Odin, the bastard, had banished him and Thor. And it seemed he'd taken Loki's magic as well. The profound emptiness gnawed at his mind, left him feeling as if he might collapse in on himself--
No. Not useful. Move on.
They'd been dumped onto another realm. From the few hazy memories after impact, he'd be willing to bet it was Midgard. Thor - brother or not, it was a sharp stab of a thought - had been injured. And was now probably being held elsewhere.
The very gall of the mortals, to think to hold Thor and Loki captive, was frustrating. Of course, they were both sadly reduced now. Magic or no, Loki had to find a way out of this, which really meant he needed to think a way out of this. A quick check of his clothing confirmed that all but one of his weapons - a thin needle hidden in the hem of his tunic - had been taken, as well as all of his armor and his boots. Well, he'd expected as much, it just meant these people weren't wholly incompetent.
While he was still taking stock of the situation, two mortals dressed in black opened the door. "Come with us," one of the men said.
Thor might have fought. Loki decided that simple cooperation for the moment would serve him better. He stood and allowed the mortals to bracket him and lead him down the hall. While he kept his head down, he keenly watched everything. This was not, he quickly concluded, an actual prison. Rather it seemed to be a building hastily repurposed, its construction rather flimsy.
The room they lead him too had the same construction flaws, and was stripped bare of fixtures. They were also intelligent enough to place him somewhere with no windows, but he'd spotted a few in the hallways they'd crossed.
There was another man, this time in a suit, waiting. He smiled politely, "Please, have a seat."
Loki complied, sprawling into the uncomfortable metal chair with studied insolence.
( My name is Agent Pierce. What's yours? )
Odin, the bastard, had banished him and Thor. And it seemed he'd taken Loki's magic as well. The profound emptiness gnawed at his mind, left him feeling as if he might collapse in on himself--
No. Not useful. Move on.
They'd been dumped onto another realm. From the few hazy memories after impact, he'd be willing to bet it was Midgard. Thor - brother or not, it was a sharp stab of a thought - had been injured. And was now probably being held elsewhere.
The very gall of the mortals, to think to hold Thor and Loki captive, was frustrating. Of course, they were both sadly reduced now. Magic or no, Loki had to find a way out of this, which really meant he needed to think a way out of this. A quick check of his clothing confirmed that all but one of his weapons - a thin needle hidden in the hem of his tunic - had been taken, as well as all of his armor and his boots. Well, he'd expected as much, it just meant these people weren't wholly incompetent.
While he was still taking stock of the situation, two mortals dressed in black opened the door. "Come with us," one of the men said.
Thor might have fought. Loki decided that simple cooperation for the moment would serve him better. He stood and allowed the mortals to bracket him and lead him down the hall. While he kept his head down, he keenly watched everything. This was not, he quickly concluded, an actual prison. Rather it seemed to be a building hastily repurposed, its construction rather flimsy.
The room they lead him too had the same construction flaws, and was stripped bare of fixtures. They were also intelligent enough to place him somewhere with no windows, but he'd spotted a few in the hallways they'd crossed.
There was another man, this time in a suit, waiting. He smiled politely, "Please, have a seat."
Loki complied, sprawling into the uncomfortable metal chair with studied insolence.
( My name is Agent Pierce. What's yours? )
