Odin sat on his throne in the hall of Valaskjalf, awaiting the arrival of his sons, Thor and Loki. As the Allfather rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, he could feel the magic of them arriving into Asgard. Freya, his wife, put a comforting hand on his shoulder. This was not to be the most joyous of moments, seeing as his more manipulative and mischievous son, Loki Laufeyson had just tried to destroy Midgard, a place held very dear.

Loki had always had a thirst for power. And why shouldn't he? That was how Odin had raised his children. However, he meant to raise them with a thirst for power, but also a kindness. Thor had learned his lesson the hard way when he had tried to start a war, some years before. And now, Loki would do the same. It had already been worked out with Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. Though, neither the Avengers on Earth nor Thor had been informed just yet.

As his sons entered the hall of Valaskjalf, he could see Thor, a grim smile crossed his face as he led his brother, bound and mute as their was a metal plate hindering the silver tongue from speaking. Odin could feel Thor's pain, as he knew that despite his brother's mischief and misdeeds, he loved him very much and did not want to see him punished.

But that was the difference between his sons. Thor had a heart, ever since he had returned from Earth. He had found love there, unlike anything he had in Asgard. He learned humility and the importance of using his powers for good, not because he could. Odin hoped this punishment for Loki would do the same, although he knew it would take much longer for Loki to attain such things, if it was even possible. Odin had feared that Loki might be too far gone to come back. But, just the same, Loki was hus son and he loved him, regardless of the mayhem he tried to cause. However, trying to destroy another world was far beyond mischief and mayhem. For that, he would be banished.

Odin put his hand on Freya's as he knew this would be harder on her. She loved her son very much, despite his jabs that she and Odin were not his true parents, as Loki had continually reminded them ever since he learned of his adoption. It seemed only to matter to Loki, as the rest of the Asgardian family would always be his family, no matter what he did.

Thor had approached his father, bowing. Odin returned his thoughts to the current situation as Thor spoke.

"Father, I have returned from the realm of Midgard, with my brother Loki in tow. Father, I ask that you be not too harsh on him, for he-"

Odin raised a hand to stop his son from going any further and Thor fell silent. The Allfather stood up from his throne and strode forward as Thor step to his side, leaving Loki in full view. Loki looked up into the eyes of his father. He could see that despite the anger that danced in Odin's eyes, he could see a thin layer of softness, one of a father's love. Had Loki not had the metal plate over his mouth, he could have used this softness, perhaps to dissuade punishment or harm that might befall him. However, it seemed that the Allfather knew him too well and kept his silver tongue bound, just like his hands.

"Loki Laufeyson, I have a fair amount of time to decide upon punishment for your transgressions on Earth. You have a lust for mayhem and mischief, and a dark thirst for power."

Loki's eyes bore into Odin's, completely void of expression. He knew that he had gone too far this time. No amount of tears he could conjure to his face would soften whatever blow Odin had for him. In addition, tears were a disgusting action Midgardians used. And he, Loki Laufeyson, was above them. He was a god, the rightful King of Asgard, something no one seemed to think, except for him. But now, he had failed in taking over the Earth, and he knew he would have to accept punishment.

Odin looked down at his son, wondering what Loki was thinking. It was wise to leave the metal plate on his mouth, for he feared the manipulation Loki would spew forth, making everyone feel sorry for him. But not this time. This time, Odin would remain firm in this decision. And he continued on.

"You are hereby banished from the realm of Asgard and are to be imprisoned, as you would say, in Midgard, the realm of which you tried to destroy. You will be stripped of your magic and your powers, leaving you a mortal. You will only retain your Asgardian strength and should you use that alone to kill, maim, or destroy, you will answer to the Avengers and the one they call Nick Fury. However they wish to deal with you is beyond my control, as I have agreed to this condition upon your return to Earth."

Anger flashed in Loki's eyes. How dare he banish me back to that wretched place? Loki thought bitterly to himself. I am a god, and the rightful king of Asgard. What good did Odin think would become of it? He shifted his gaze over to his brother than back to the Allfather. He made a noise in his throat, the product of a snicker. Oh Odin, do you honestly believe by banishing me to Earth, I will somehow return with a heart of gold and a love for human kind? How Loki wished his mouth wasn't muted by the stupid metal plate. However, this was too grand of a moment, seeing the three of them, his supposed family, all with love in their eyes. It was too much, seeing the pain it caused them, all while Loki himself could not be bothered with such emotion. Did it pain him? No, of course not. But, he was less than thrilled about this punishment. I, cast out of my throne and thrust into a world full of emotions and weakness? That is hardly a place for someone as regal as me, Loki thought to himself. And even worse, without my power? I, a mortal? That thought alone was enough to make him want take ahold of Mjolnir and smash Odin's face with it. But, he had to concede this time, because there was nothing to do to stop it. For now, at least. I always find a way, Odin. You know this to be true.

Back on Earth, in the United States, a city called Los Angeles more specifically, there sat a young women in a nightclub, glued to the bar. The young woman was in her early twenties, absentmindedly stirring her drink. She noticed a man approach the bar. He was attractive, but most likely a douchebag, as she believed all men were. But, that was the beauty of places such as this. The men here weren't searching for love, even though they acted like they were. But this was fine with her, as a "no strings attached" night was fine for her. Her heart had had hardened and this was an easy way to get the physical pleasures and leave the emotional behind.

"Hey beautiful, may I buy you a drink?" the man asked.

She surveyed him, taking in his overpriced cologne, black boots, collared shirt and slacks. He had light brown hair that fell over one eyes and a smile that undoubtedly charmed the hearts of many. However, she was beyond being charmed.

She smiled sweetly, "Sure. I'll have a Cosmo," she said, knowing full well, this drink was a sign she was easy to get into bed.

"Of course," he said, returning that smile. He had taken the bait. "And what might be your name, beautiful?" he asked touching her shoulder.

She inwardly laughed. Beautiful? Oh please, this guy is so full of shit. Gag me. But, he had taken the bait. "Jessica," she lied. Never did she give out her real name in these situations.

He prattled on, asking the same questions they all asked every night she came out. Where was she from, what she did for a living, etc. And she would answer with all the answers every guy wanted to hear. She was now in LA, working as a fashion consultant for the stars. She was from a small town, her dad had left her and her mother, then she had been held to be the example for her younger sister. LA was her escape, a chance to be wild, and free to explore whatever carnal desires she wanted. Was this true? Hardly. All of it was fake, right down to the pink strapless dress she was wearing with black stilettos. But she knew how they liked them, and it worked for her.

A couple hours later, she found herself staring up at the ceiling of the guy's apartment Brian? Brandon. Or was it Brad? Fuck it. She glanced over to her prey of the night. He was sleeping. She tiptoed out of his bed, slipping her dress back on and carried her heels out of the apartment. She preferred not be next to them in the morning. It saved her a lot of fakeness, awkwardness, and any possibilities for a future encounter. She hopped nightclubs consistently so she rarely encountered the same man twice.

She took a cab home to her apartment. Fumbling over her keys (she was still a little drunk), she managed to unlock her door, collapse on her bed, and pass out alone, which is how she liked it.