Mischief

Mischief: Behaviour that is bad but rarely intended to cause harm. Usually bad but attractive.

In a dungeon, veiled beneath a palace exorbitantly regal, lay in wake a creature on the precipice of destruction. Locked away in its cells, he waited. Bound by the chains that would only tear at his skin this once. Mischief and chaos were bound to his name and to his glory he wouldn't disappoint. Escape was only a matter of time. He hopelessly craved to trick the unfortunate Asgardian soldier who guarded him with cautious eyes. He need only capture enough concern to sway the gold armoured man to open the electrified veil that kept him within his cell. His emerald eyes shifted between the chair and the cold ground, a smirk curled at his lips, he was mischievous indeed.

"Argh", His pale hand clutched at his chest, gasping with effect. The guard widened his eyes in panic, watching the dark-haired man fall to the ground in a violent convulsion. He was still after a moment, seemingly dead. The guard hastily opened the cell, rushing to the side of the prisoner's illusion. A visible smile painted the prisoner's lips to the fearful guard who allowed the god to sneak soundlessly behind him, closer to his freedom. He would have gotten it if it hadn't been for the blue eyes in the dark that stunned him with a charge of electricity before he could pass through the open door. A mistake that they would live to regret.

"Loki", A voice drew him back to the comforts of his cell, wakening him from his short rest. His eyes shot to the orange glow of the cell wall that had been resealed with no guard to be seen. His mouth curled into a snarl of anger, noticing the figure that lingered in his prison. A silver-haired woman, dressed in a bodice like an armoured black vest that was trimmed in red. Her undershirt was black and long sleeved like Midgardian swat agents. Her zip ridden black pants clung to her skin and housed an array of alien weaponry. Even the leg of her buckled boot revealed the hilt of a red-tipped knife. Had she a flowing leather coat, he would have mistaken her for an assassin.

The buckles on her leather boots clicked softly together with her slow approach, kneeling next to his weakened body. Her hand reached for something on his back, retrieving a metal button like object from his tunic. He reefed his body away from her in defence, ready to attack the unknown trespasser who was nowhere near as scared as she should have been. Her eyes clashed with his snarling expression. She belonged to the blue eyes in the dark, the eyes that reminded him of the electric cobalt of his beloved Tesseract. All that was not covered by a partial mask were those nonhuman eyes.

"You must be the one idiotic enough to have stopped me!", Loki spoke threateningly after a while, unimpressed by her ignorance of his infamy. The blue eyes narrowed to the man who taunted her, examining the metal in her fingers while the other gloved hand shot to her ear. Had she not heard of the God of Mischief?

"The Prisoner is secured, the bug is removed", Her voice spoke sharply into the small earpiece she wore. A low and alluring tone escaped her pouted lips, tainted with the elegant accent of Asgardians and the deep drawl of a Midgardian country known as Australia. A strange yet beautifully paired combination of ruggedness and royalty.

Her earpiece was a wonder, It had to be an alien technology if it functioned on Asgard.

"Listen here wench-", Loki began to speak but was silenced by her raise of hand toward him, as if she weren't talking to a god. He was taken aback by her carelessness. What gave her the right? The Audacity?! She would be the first to face his wrath. Taking her weapons would be his first feat against the vile woman.

"No, I stunned him", Her humourous words sent fire through his veins. His eyes watched her hand retreat from the earpiece. The out of context conversation made him murderous. Though she kept contact with whoever was on the other end of her conversation, her eyes never swayed from his position. She was no amateur.

"Yes, he is contemplating swiping my weapons. I'll meet you on the surface in 5", She ended the conversation, ready to face the god's childlike anger. He had grown bored of her.

"As you were saying", The black-clad woman met his emerald eyes with challenge. He didn't reply. Loki materialized himself behind her with a smug smile, ready to escape this inexplicable boredom. He sensed something about her, something different, powerful. It was mesmerizing, it was something that would soon die for her stupidity. Her knife was within his reach, mere inches away.

"I wouldn't", Her head snapped to him in a second, forcing him to grip onto the weapon. He ripped it from her boot with the swiftness it took her to press down on the metal 'bug' she had dislodged from his clothing. A shock of electricity coursed through his veins from the metal of the red tipped knife, forcing it from his hand.

"Argh", He hissed with fury, growing ever more impatient toward the woman who held his freedom.

"Say goodbye to your family. Tomorrow you are going to a place that will suit you well, Prince Loki, A prison with no comforts of home", Her voice was sharp toward the god who had murdered many. He towered over her muscular frame, his tall figure taunting in his stance of aggression. His slicked back hair seemed glued in place with his movement.

"When I escape I will come for you and you will know the true meaning of pain. Fear. When I have taken all you hold dear then I will kill you slowly, excruciatingly." Loki cursed the woman who had overcome his trap. She unlatched the mask on her face. It was a challenge. If he knew her face it would become childs play to find her. She wanted him to...she dared him to.

"Until that day comes", She sneered through crimson lips.

Loki's green eyes widened at her hand that hovered over a blinking red light, watching as she pressed down and a wave of pain coursed through his body. She stepped out of the prison, nodding to the guard who lowered the door for her exit.

"Argh", The pain left his veins quicker than before, launching his body toward the electrified walls, he followed her with his eyes. His body winced at the sound of her buckled boots tapping in the distance. She would feel his wrath. He would make sure of it.