All those around him were in frozen form. Their eyes unblinking, their mouths silenced. He could have sworn he saw their lips all sewn together before he caught movement in the corner of his eye. Movement that was coming at him in swaying fabrics before a long staff pointed at him, using a blowing force that knocked him across the five feet and hard into the dry wall off his feet and totally without guard. It was only a quarter of a second when he vanished before the next blow of whatever magic was attacking him. He was able to stay invisible only for a moment before reappearing with the staff in his hands, glowing green (from self modifications by magic of course), and shot a bolt of vicious magic towards the form that had attacked him.

His old tricks and touch had not left him. His fingers tingled with the same desire to continue until the fool beneath him writhed in pain and begged for mercy. The magical creature beneath the invisible searing wires squirmed in pain with humanly veins bulging from his neck.

Loki approached this thing as its form deflated from a bulky, ugly red, swollen, muscular, thing with foreign markings on the skin. The teeth moved back to human rather than their sharp as blades form and the thing's human body appeared as daggers shot through his eyes to Loki above the searing pain beneath the invisible wires.

"Who are you!" Loki barked madly, his voice low and demanding. His green eyes narrow as he pressed the sharpest of tips from the staff to the man's neck. "It would benefit you to cease yo-"

The man beneath him vanished and Loki was thrown across the room once more, knocking the still frozen humans down in their marble-stone state. The wall braced him as he shot magic back before whatever spell hit him began to force him to his knees as he coughed up phlegm and blood. Loki looked up to the figure beginning to stand up before him, a wild smirk sprawled across his lips as he began to stand up, shooting the man bolts of green magic backing him up in space of the gallery before against the wall, then once more through the wall and into the grass. Loki walked swiftly across the room, jumping from the open space the wall created and to the figure, sticking the sharp point once more to this man's neck.

"What is your business with who I am?" Loki demand, pressing the staff against the man's neck breaking a bit of skin.

"Loki Laufeyson," the man coughed out, his hands twisting into fists as he fought for his own life beneath the many spells paralyzing him. "The God who hides from what he has done wrong! The weak, poor excuse for God of Mischief." The man snickered before giving a bloody cough, finally stilling as the pain ceased once he stopped his movements.

"How do you know of my identity?"

"How do these people not! You are but spitting image of the paintings they draw, the movies they create, the history that they read!"

"The race of Midgard has never been quite… intelligent. What is your purpose," his voice became demand rather than question or curiosity. Loki was not in a gaming mood. His identity here on Midgard had been covered for decades since the Avengers.

As the man lay silent and unmoving of telling what his means were he grabbed the man's collar and teleported them to the basement of his mansion. Where, well, it was not modest to the torture devices he had in case of... emergency to ambush or betrayal by anyone who may be a spy on his tail.

It was a while before the man came to, his body held up to a metallic stretcher that was more like a huge metal door keeping many out in Stark industry's amateur days of laboratories. Perhaps Loki had mixed with magic to experiment Midgard time travel to steal such a door, perhaps.

Loki sat in the corner of the room without light shed upon him. His legs crossed at the knee with his God of Mischief armor fully clad to his body with the exception of the satanic horns. They did not feel in place here, and the prisoner was bound to a table, which bound the magic to the captured. It had been a many rough months for him to even create such a thing without stealing from SHEILD. There was a lot of stalking Tony Stark while he worked on his gadgets to keep the magically inclined out of his tower. A lot of mindful note taking and he had gotten it done within some time.

The man struggled against the restraints, huffing with great displeasure when the magic he conjured seemed to backfire against him causing him discomfort and pain. Loki smirked at the affects- invisible relief rising from his shoulders as he of course had not been able to use such a thing. He did not trust his magic to keep on a brainwashed human while his own machinery held him magically captive against the world. Thus, he did not take the chances to experiment. Dabbling in catching one of the Avenger's headaches from some far off planet or community at the edge of the universe did not appeal to him either. He need not a headache of his own upon his own will.

"Sleeping beauty has awoken without the saving kiss of her prince," Loki mused as he stood from the chair while moving over to the table in long, confident strides. "I would not continue to conjure any further magic for it will only backfire against you, red beast."

"Beast? I am hardly a beast to what your true form is, Laufeyson."

"I believe this has become even more unfair for you know who I am yet I am not graced with the knowledge of who you may be besides a blundering red beast with red spurts of magic."

A snarl escaped the man's throat, his eyes beginning to roll at the ridiculous tongue of Loki. "You might want to call me Vidar," he snarled, his eyes boring into Loki's.

"Vidar," the name rolled from his lips with ease and venom, "how did you know of who I am?"

"Why do you deserve an explanation?"

"I am quite sure you will recognize that these metal forces that keep you to the board keep your magic within yourself and only harming you. Keep up your unruly act and you will recognize that my magic against you is not cast off by any protecting shields of this device."

"I come here to find the God of Mischief and find how he become such a fool to give up on his quest for power!"

"You dare call me a fool you insufferable beast!"

The staff was to Vidar's neck again causing the man to squirm and he looked to Loki, flashes of red going through his own eyes. "I mean no offense, I speak all but lies and opinion for it is true: you gave up. You vanished before the Avengers to become what! A coward in hiding! Muling over artwork with his face on it! Become a fan of your own work, Laufeyson, and you forget your purpose. Forget your followers!"

"I HAVE NO FOLLOWERS," Loki roared, nearly shaking the mansion above them. "I have nothing but deceit and lies! Powerless revenge burning inside me!"

"You have nothing but pitty for yourself, Loki. God of Mischief. Norse mythology be deemed lucky for Odin to not appoint a new man for such a God. A weak man with sentiment still for his cursed son."

"You speak from your ass," perhaps it was the most human-like thing Loki had ever said. Any foreign comebacks did not find ways to his tongue. Did he become to fear his truth? Fear his past and his emotion? Fear his hatred? Never. He never fears a thing but the punishment of sewn lips, shackled wrists, and stripped dignity.

"You run from your truth."

"You know not of who I am, who I become, or why I become it. You know not of the struggle against all! Against anyone who deems themselves greater than you. You know not."

"For a god with such legend, I would never guess you to give up. I never guess you to hide."

"ENOUGH!" Loki roared, flying up to only an inch from the man's face with the staff pressed to his chest. "You cease your words, your empty assumptions." His eyes narrowed as he took a few strides back. "You will stay here until I find what suits you well. I may not have an army, or the strength to avenge myself, but I do have the strength to keep a red beast as yourself under my power. You will find you rue this day you tricked me to a painting."

"You trick yourself. Thinking you are done with what you feel. With what lay beneath your chest in the deepest cavities of your heart. You are nothing but a weak man who remembers himself gr-" he was silenced by a muzzle. A muzzle which had indeed been stolen from the SHEILD headquarters. Something he never wanted used upon himself even in case SHEILD did capture him. He'd need his tongue to save himself always.

While the lights out and Vidar alone a transmitted screen-like thing appeared before him. Vidar peered to the holograph, his eyes untelling of much emotion.

"Have you located God of Mischief?" the voice asked, disguised and deep.

Vidar could only nod with an answer- his muzzle stopping him from word and basic muscle function around the device.

"Good. I trust when you are in a less compromised position I will have further faith in my choice to choose you for this." And with that the light flickered out and Vidar was left in darkness once more.