All of Marvel's characters are inherently Marvel's, and thus not my own. However, me and the OC go way back, so she's mine, all mine…!

There wasn't any time to test the plan. No time, and even if it succeeded, that damn sentient tower would notice a signature anomaly. If the plan was to succeed, it would have to work on the first try.

Rift smiled in anticipation. This was going to be fun.

Standing down an alley, close by Stark's tower, she closed her eyes, and focused on mist. The feeling of it - the lightness of a wisp - the quiet, swirling path it traveled. Quicker than blinking, her form changed to a small cloud of mist. Rift smiled (or would have, if mist had lips and could smile - a thought which amused her), and cloaked herself in a quick sight/sound shield, as well.

Invisability? Check. Intangibility? Check.

Next was the trickier bit. Rift let her thoughts drift for a moment, onto other topics. Did she leave the car parked? Was it locked? Where were the keys again? What was the velocity of an unladen flying swallow? Sufficiently distracted, she reached out and forced a link to the ethereal plane. (Because one knows that the only way to plane-jump is not to focus on where you want to go, but what you need to do. Plane-jumping was disgustingly easy to learn once she figured out how to correctly unfocus. Focusing all her energy on one plane of existence last led to some disastrous merging of one plane directly on top of another, and sorting that out had been a nightmare.)

Keeping one (metaphorical) foot in the ethereal plane and one in the current realm, she began moving to Stark's tower.


The guards had left his food tray a little over two hours ago. Loki had taken a couple bites; whomever Stark employed as chef was fairly handy. He'd given up on being able to test his food - his magical restraints were still on - but if it was poison they chose to use on him, he welcomed it. Loki figured that Odin must be relishing this, having him jailed so neatly. It was maddening.

So, too, was the sterility of his cell. The walls were all white - functional, but not aestetically pleasing. The air piped in was exceptionally clean.

Thankfully, Stark had redesigned his restraints: they still bound his magic, but they did not bind his arms together anymore. Instead, the two thin metal cuffs sat on his wrists, emitting a blue glow which (Loki assumed) meant that they were still functioning. If they weren't being used to manacle him, Loki would be impressed with the level of craftsmanship and ingenuity that created the bindings - it was still not as aesthetically pleasing, or advanced, as similar items in Asgard, but it was damn close. The shackles were able to bind him as Midgardian handcuffs as needed, but when left alone to his cell, there was no need.

As best Loki could figure, it had been close to twelve days since his attack on Midgard had failed. He had no windows, no timepiece, but the intervals at which food was provided allowed him some semblance of daily ritual. So, sometime after his early-morning breakfast had been thrown at him, and before his noonday meal, it came as a surprise when he noticed a wisp of mist start coalescing just inside of his cell.


Rift had finally found the detention area. She'd never been great with directions, and, well, not having a map or an idea where to go besides "somewhere in that Stark building" did make finding the cells difficult. Being in ethereal form made it harder, since everything in the material plane was fuzzy and indistinct. Thankfully solid objects weren't an issue, as she could pass right through them. There had been a few close calls: that is, if it were possible that she could have been seen, heard, or felt. She passed by the R&D department of Stark Industries, where she could hazily see Dr. Banner studying some sort of gizwidget Stark had designed. At her passing, some of the sensors on the machine started going haywire (tech and magical energy didn't always play nicely together) but since the issues continued after her passing, Rift assumed it wasn't her presence that tripped the machine.

She'd seen Ms. Potts running through the building looking for the head of HR, and several SHIELD agents still perusing the hallways. It was SHIELD that finally led her to the detention area - she had followed a group down some twisting hallways and through several security checks before she found who she sought.

She watched him for only a few minutes. Loki, god of mischief and magic, would-be ruler of Earth, legendary narcissist, and all-around multi-universal pain-in-the-ass, was currently reading a book and picking at the remains of his blueberry pancakes. Even in captivity, his clothing and hair were still as immaculate as they looked on the footage she'd seen on the would-be invasion. However, the god still looked unhealthily pale, and his eye sockets were sunken-in with dark circles underneath.

When Rift finally moved closer, forcing herself through the barrier into his cell, Loki's eyes quickly flicked from the page he was reading right to the spot she was at, and back down. The quick acknowledgement of her presence startled her, but didn't surprise her. Loki was, after all, a god of magic for a reason. So Rift began to weave the glamour that allowed the cameras to still see Loki sitting quietly and only hear the turning of pages, she stepped out of the ethereal plane into the material, and began to coalesce back into her normal body in the corner of the cell.

"Careful, magelet. The ground has sensory triggers as well." Loki hissed, not moving his eyes from his book and barely moving his lips.

Still pulling the rest of the mist back in, Rift pointed to her feet, which were a good three inches off of the ground. "Got it covered, but thanks for the warning."

"Then I suppose me asking if you've cloaked this cell would be redundant?" Loki asked, finally putting his book down and looking at her. She noticed his eyes then: a dull mix of grey-green, filled with shadows of madness, despair... and rage, simmering just below the surface.

Her mind reeled at the powerful range of emotions lurking beneath the surface of the Asgardian, who still appeared as cool as a cucumber. Still distracted by the force of his rage, she blurted out her response without thinking. "Oh, ask all you want. I'm assuming this means they've got your magic trussed up somehow, right?" she asked, nodding towards the metal cuffs poking out of this jacket's sleeves.

Loki's gaze darkened, and he sneered at her. "Yes magelet," he hissed, spitting the words at her, "because if I did have access to my magic, I would not be stuck here." At this, he stood and threw his book at the cell's power barriers.

Rift threw her arm out, using her power to stop the book midair just before it hit the barrier: "Dammit! The texts said you were a 'mischievous trickster', not an outright dick!" She pulled the book towards her, and read the cover. "Huh. I'll be damned, maybe they do have a sense of humor after all. Who gave you this?" Rift pulled her legs up and sat down midair, opened the book, and started reading the first pages.

At this, Loki's demeanor instantly changed. His eyes lost some of their shadows, and the hint of a smirk ghosted his lips. "What, pray tell, is so amusing about Hamlet?" he asked, innocently. "A play written by Midgard's most highly lauded playwright about the distrust and downfall of an entire monarchy due to lies and deception. I can notimagine why you find this so funny." He started to quietly move towards her then, but Rift looked up from the book, cocked her head, and pointed at Loki's feet.

"Sensors in the ground, right?" she asked.

Loki rolled his eyes. Powerful, this little magelet was, but dense, too. "Yes, magelet. There are sensors in the ground to track my every movement."

She closed the book, and then closed her eyes. "What is the delay on the camera?"

"None, as far as I can determine. They've somehow decided telling me any information about it would be unwise. I should think that..."

"Loki!" Rift cut in. "Look at your feet!"

Loki looked down. His feet were as they always were, at the end of his legs, and currently covered in thin black socks. He looked back up at her and cocked one eyebrow.

"I've modified the glamour to follow your body moving, but there was a delay of thirty seconds - you stood, but the cameras saw you on the bed. I'm hoping that this won't be caught..."

Just as the words left her mouth, the entrance to the detention area hissed open.

"Shit."

Ok, I stink at waiting. Here's Chapter 2. Read, review, enjoy… but not in that order.