Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution or anything else, except for my OC's.
}~/Preface/~{
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In matters of truth and justice, there is no difference between large and small problems, for issues concerning the treatment of people are all the same.
-Albert Einstein
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Parenting was never easy - he had many years of experience, of raising his children, to learn this fact. As children, they were ever curious about the world, and even a bit demanding. As teenagers, and men, his sons were more wild. His eldest was, at first, cocky, arrogant, and thought of things like a warrior, never like what he should have thought - he never thought like a king would. He grew up, though, finding himself doing anything to protect those he held closest to him, and becoming a man who made him truly proud.
As for his youngest...
At one time, he was a good child. Mischievous, and playful, yes, but never the malicious, scheming man he was seemingly becoming. His heart was darkened, corrupting itself. In a way, it was his son's fault - for not accepting the fact that, no matter what, he was still his son and still loved - and, at the same time, it was his own fault. It was his own fault for keeping all the secrets from his youngest, from making him feel like a tool for peace. For always making it seem like it was his brother who truly was superior to him.
It was a little bit of both their faults, wasn't it?
Now...now his son...after all that had just happened...
He needed to be punished. He needed to be brought to justice for the crimes he had now committed - he need to receive a lesson as to why he shouldn't do that. A lesson that would, just maybe, bring his son back to him.
Grounding him was not much of an option. He wasn't a child, he was a full grow man, and who had ever heard of grounding a full grown man? Besides, what would that truly accomplish? From what he had learned, 'grounding' was just taking away meaningless privileges. It wouldn't do much of a difference with him. All he'd do is stay in his room, hiding from the rest of the world, from everyone, just waiting, and not learning any lesson. It was a pointless idea...well, at least with this one.
Sending him into imprisonment wouldn't solve much, either, he was afraid. His youngest wouldn't simply sit in his cell, thinking about everything he had done, and everything he had in his life - like his father prayed he would - and simply would try to think of some plot to help him escape prison, and go back to his scheming. That was simply something the boy - no, man (there were still times he would forget that, and simply think his son was still a boy, not a grown man) - would do, and the idea of it should never even be considered.
He had thought of other ways of punishment, for the youngest son. Only one seemed to stick in his mind, however; the one thing that might...just might work. It was a punishment his eldest had received, as a punishment for a crime that started a very large mess of things. The eldest had learned his lesson, and so much more, in his time of this 'punishment' - better yet, a vacation, if you wanted to call it that (for, it somewhat seemed like a vacation, in a way) - and he had become wiser, and stronger. He had truly been able to make his father proud, by learning his path.
It sounded like a reasonable punishment, banish the young son off, until he learned his lesson, just as his brother had. Besides, it would only prove his son's point of him favoring the elder brother, even more, if one child had received this punishment, and the other had received a more severe one, wouldn't it?
Yes...if he wanted his son back - if they all wanted the man they had once known back to them - then perhaps this would do just that.
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Green eyes studied the halls, studied the rooms he and his brother - the Neanderthal older brother, who had volunteered to be his escort - walked through to reach the ever grande, ever gigantic throne room. Each place he had been through, over a million times - walked through, and played through these cooridors, in his years of residing in the place he once called 'home'. You would think a sense of nostalgia would rush through him.
Well, if nostalgia felt like he was about to throw up the breakfast he had received, then, yes, he felt very nostalgic.
No, he was not scared - he was never, ever to be scared. Especially not for something such as this. The thought of seeing his "family", though, all crowded together, it made him sick, for whatever reason. Perhaps it was due to his mother - he would never put air quotes around that woman's title, for she truly was his mother, in all honesty - and having to face her...
His mother loved him, but her wrath could be quite disturbing.
Yes, that was probably he wanted to throw up.
Either that, or Thor's lecture as they continued to the throne room - "Brother, just tell father you are sorry for the trouble you have caused. Tell him you wish to repent any of your chaos-making, and that you wish to start anew. He will accept your apology, I know it" and blah blah blah - could be just that. Every time he heard one of the damn lectures from the man wanted to make him gag, to be quite honest.
Loki remained silent towards his brother's on-going lecture, only letting out a grunt or a roll of his eyes, whenever asked something, directly, for reply. He didn't really feel up to talking to his annoyance he was forced to call 'brother'. Hence forth, said man could learn to deal with it.
The door leading to the throne room soon came into view. Not soon enough, to be rather honest, but, still quite quickly. Loki resisted the urge to suck in a quick breath, not wanting to risk Thor seeing this. As if he was going to show even slight weakness, when around the bafoon.
Thor looked over at his brother, looking concerned, or at least, pretending to be. "Are you ready, brother?"
Green eyes glanced over into blue ones, glaring daggers into them. Finally, breaking his silence, Loki spoke once more, a scoff escaping from his lips.
"Does it really matter if I am or not, Odinson?"
Thor remained silent, and turned back to the door, a solemn look on his face. The golden, ceiling-high doors slowly creaked and rocked open, slowly revealing the throne room that lay ahead.
And he could already feel the disappointment in his father's gaze, all the way from where he stood.
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"Loki Laufeyson," Odin's voice boomed, though, even if just slightly, his voice wavered at the last name. "Odinson," he corrected, after a moment. "My youngest son," Loki quietly scoffed, adverting his gaze a bit from his father. Youngest son...Odinson...as if. "You have been brought here for punishment over your crimes. Brought here for plotting to destroy Jotunheim, and for attempting to take over Midgaurd, as it's king. For murders you un-justisly commited, and for every other reason." What, he couldn't even name anything else he had done? What a watchful father...
Odin rose from his throne, looking down at the youngest of his sons. The green orbs showed no sorrow for what he had done. In fact, it showed he was pissed because his plans didn't work, like he had wished they would. The Allfather let out a silent sigh, glancing at Frigg. His wife sucked in a breath, not taking her eyes off of her child, and simply, stiffly, nodded her head.
The old man walked up to his son, glancing at Thor, to tell him to move from his brother's side. He patted his brother's shoulder, one single time, before moving to the side, to stand by their mother. "Your punishment is not severe," Odin assured the liesmith, placing his hands upon the other man's shoulders. "I believe that, no matter how large, or how small, a problem may be, when justice is to be dealt, that treatment of people are all the same. Hence forth," he closed his eye, sucking in a breath. "I am sending you to Midguard, where you will remain until your lesson has been learnt."
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Was this old fool serious?
Loki looked up at his 'father', with a snort.
"You are sending me to the realm, I have just tried to conquer, as my own," he stated, shaking his head at his father. "Are you even thinking this through?"
"Yes, I am," Odin told him, sternly. He paused for a second, letting his voice soften. "On Midguard, your powers will go to a basic level. You will have to re-learn ways that will get your powers back, until it is deemed ready for you to return home. You will still have access to a couple of your abilities, but they will not be as strong as they once were. You will have to learn how to strengthen them, when on Midguard, if you wish to use them. However," he opened his eye, finally, looking into the green orbs that belonged to his son. "Re-learning your power is not to be your main priority."
The silver-tongued man let himself stiffen, his face showing no emotion. "And my main priority would be...?"
"Learning the lessons you need to," Odin stated. "You are to learn how to be worthy of the loved ones you have. Learn how to care for others. Learn that your ways now, are corrupt, and that you can use your powers for the better good."
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Well, from where Loki was standing, it would seem the old man was losing it.
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When Loki was tossed onto Midguard, he had found himself having nothing but the clothes on his back - a leather jacket, a dark green shirt, black pants, and black shoes - and simple, meaningless good-byes from his "family".
He looked at his surroundings, studying each building carefully. It was obvious he was in New York - where his battle for control over Midguard had taken place. However, it wasn't the same city, that was for damn sure. The signs didn't read 'New York, New York' {which, he always found quite redundant - 'New York, New York'? Humans had no originality, from what it seemed}, but, 'Bayville, New York'.
Finally, the liesmith took his leave from his spot, and headed out. Right now, he had no idea as to what he would do in this world, save for learning how to tap back into his powers, but, only one idea came for the meantime:
Find a bar, and drink to his dark heart's content.
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It took a great deal of liquor to get an Asguardian drunk.
And Loki was no exception.
By his fifth drink, Loki felt absolutely no buzz, no tipsiness, no nothing. Drinking this pathetic mortal excuse for liquor was like drinking water. It didn't effect him, whatsoever, except it only made him want more, and want better alcohol to drink.
Once he downed the fifth glass, he ordered two more, setting down the glass. The bartender nodded his bald head, once, then set down another glass, and filled both, with the pitcher in his hand. He walked away, afterwards, to go tend to other customers, leaving Loki by himself.
It was somewhat surprising, to say the very least, that nobody recognized the liesmith. Not that he truly minded, infact, it was probably for the better. It still made him wonder, though - why did nobody say anything?
He heard the door to the bar open, and somewhat slam shut. He glanced up, just slightly, to see a short - the man was just barely over 5 foot something, from what the green-eyed Asguardian guessed - man, with raven hair, and brown eyes, come up and take the seat next to him.
Loki turned back to his drinks, downing his sixth drinking, ignoring the man next to him. This only lasted a moment, before the gruff looking man looked over at him.
"Y'know," he spoke, in a voice that matched his looks. "Fury ain't gonna be happy you're back here."
The liesmith calmly placed his drink on the counter, and glanced at the man. So, this man knew that Fury.
Wonderful.
"Let me guess," Loki started, looking back down at his remaining drink. "You work for S.H.I.E.L.D."
A snort escaped the man. "Hell no," he answered, shaking his head. "You couldn't pay me enough to work for them." Hmm, smart man. "But, I know what happened in New York City, and I know Fury was pissed off enough, you when came here."
"So, are you going to turn me in or something?"
Silence. The man seemed to think it over for a second, just a quick second, before shaking his head. "No," he answered. "Even if you're up to no good, I'd rather take you down, myself, 'stead of handing you over to Fury."
It made some sense...Loki supposed.
"So, just what are you doing here?" the man demanded, putting one arm on the counter top. Loki looked over to him, picking up his remaining drink.
"Why do you care, exactly?"
"Cuz I'm a caring person," the man said, snarkly and sarcastically. "Why do you think? You show up, out of the blue, for some reason, and come to my favorite bar. Of course I wanna know why."
Loki paused for a minute, downing his seventh drink, before even thinking of telling this man what was going on. "If you must know," the green-eyed man finally said. "I am here because of that old fool Odin. I have been banished here."
"...He sent you here," the man started. "After you tried to take over the world."
"Yes."
"...What the hell is wrong with him?"
Okay, it was official. There was at least one intelligent Midguardian. Thankfully. Loki sat down his glass, setting it next to the other, and he looked at his new acquaintance, with a bit of curiousity. "What is your name, mortal?"
"Logan," the man stated. "Just Logan."
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The two men had stayed at the bar until closing time, chatting away. Loki had certainly been surprised he had found a mortal he could actually hold an actual conversation with, instead of threats and interrigations, to be honest.
When the bartender - Barney, as Loki had learned, from Logan - came up to tell them they needed to pay and get the hell out of there, both men stood up, and Logan loked over at the man.
"Just put his and my drinks on my tab, Barney."
Loki glanced over at Logan, curiously - he was paying? Barney simply shrugged and nodded, before walking off.
The two men left the bar, the shorter of the two bidding good-bye to the bartender as they walked out the door. Loki paused in front of it, though, looking over at the shorter man. Logan stopped, and turned around, facing the taller. "What?"
"Why did you pay for my drinks?" Loki demanded.
" 'Cuz, I'm pretty sure Daddy didn't leave you with any money," Logan stated, arms crossed over his chest. "Did he?"
Silence.
"And he probably didn't leave ya with a place to live either, huh?"
More silence.
The gruffer man snorted. "Didn't think so," he said. He turned on his heel, and began walking. "C'mon, follow me."
"And where do you think you are taking me?" Loki demanded, finally speaking once more, as he continued away from the bar with his new 'friend'.
"My place," Logan stated. A thoughtful expression appeared, for a minute, before he continued. "Well, it's actually a friend of mine's place. A school for...special people."
Loki raised his brows. " 'Special'?" he seemed to scoff at the idea. If it was for people who were 'special' in the head, he swore, he'd beat the living shit out of the man. "Tell me what you mean by 'special', Logan."
"Special, as in, what we are," the gruff man stated, hands in his pockets. "People with powers."
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"Are you sure you don't wanna come with us, Loki?"
Loki looked down at the girl - a seventeen year old, with fiery red hair, and green eyes that were quite close to his own color, who, when standing, was tall enough to reach his chin. He nodded his head, sighing. "Yes, Jean, I am quite sure," he told her, for what seemed to be the fiftieth time. That was just how she was, though - always wanting to make sure nobody got left out. "I am not one for your Midguardian sports, to be quite honest."
Jean smiled, slightly. "Alright, if you're sure..."
"I am." he stated, almost a bit too hastily.
The two looked over towards the stairwell, seeing two boys - one being seventeen, and the other being no older than thirteen - standing there, the younger of the two looking quite impatient. The oldest boy had short brown hair, that stopped at his neck, and had red, black trimmed sunglasses covering his eyes, and the younger, shorter of the boys had raven hair, that went down to his chin, in a shaggy manner, and his eyes were light blue. Said younger boy was tapping his foot, arms crossed over his chest, and a look of 'shoot-me-now' on his face.
"Now, if a certain somebody got out of the bathroom," the older sighed. "We could get going."
The younger finally looked up at the staircase, and frowned. "Shawn, this isn't a beauty pageant!" he called, in an aggitated tone. "It's not like you'd even win one in the first place, so, why bother! Just get your ass down here, already!"
After a second, said sixteen-year-old walked down the stairs, caramel brown waves hangling loosely, and her brown eyes darted to her younger brother. "Y'know, I'd say 'bite me'," she said, a teasing tone in her voice. "But, then again, I don't wanna get rabies."
Her brother opened his mouth, to say something, but the older boy stepped in. "Jason, Shawn, cut it out," he sighed. "Let's just get going, already. We're gonna be late for the game, if we don't hurry up."
"Yeah, yeah..." Jason muttered.
"Then, what are you standing around for, Scotty?" Shawn asked. "Let's go!" with that, she bolted for the door, noticing Loki standing there, as she did, and she waved at him, calling out a good-bye. He held his hand up, to bid farewell, but that was it. Jason ran after his older sister, with Scott, the older boy, following after him. Jean followed after Scott, the two oldest bidding farewell to Loki, as well.
The liesmith nodded, watching them leave. Once they were out the door, and in the driveway in front of the mansion, Loki deemed it alright to get out of the entryway. He left the large room, heading into the living room that was just down the hall, intending on sitting down and reading, enjoying the peace and quiet he was gaining.
It had been a year since Logan had taken him to the school - "The Xavier Institute for Gifted Children", as it was named - and he had come to find out that he had a new job, that came with his boarding;
Rangling teenaged mutants, as these ever so 'gifted' Midguardians were called, and teaching them how to use and control their powers, while he himself was still trying to tap back into his powers.
And, let's just say it was a very...interesting job for him to have. And whether 'interesting' was a good or a bad thing, well, he had yet to decide.
And that's it for the preface. I wanted to explain how Loki ended up at the X-Mansion, and why he's there in the first place. This idea came to me, after I came up with my two OC's - Shawn and Jason {and, yes, Shawn is a girl} - and this idea sort of popped in my head, because, originally, Shawn and Jason's mother was supposed to be a member of the Avengers (though, really, that idea's been tossed into the garbage), and it was a random that went; "I wonder how she would react to her kids being taught by Loki..." and, hence forth, this was born.
I promise, I'll do my best to make it something at least decent, and this preface was probably boring as crap, so, sorry about that, I just wanted to explain just what happened to why he's there in the first place, and not have anybody going "OMG, what the fuck is Loki doing with the X-Men!"
So, yeah. If you liked, please review it, cuz reviews make everybody happy. I'll hopefully get the next chapter out soon, and it will take off where this chapter left off, going into chapter one - meaning, the first episode of X-Men Evolution, where things begin to get interesting.
Until then, peace out!