—

11am Saturday

They have taken over. The Avengers have officially assembled inside me. I'm hunkered down in a corner of my mind while these dastardly heroes-turned-villains plot. Plot for my health and fitness. Dastardly indeed.

Everyone has joined in Loki's quest to improve my wellness. Training, nutrition- it's been all described to me in detail and in placating tones, as though I have any real choice but to obey the overwhelming personalities.

This new program has been proscribed and pushed onto me despite my protestations. It sounds nice and helpful and yet there's an undercurrent of something darker. Something forceful. Something… well, Loki-ish.

Maybe it won't be so bad. It wouldn't hurt to better myself, and I never back down from a challenge. Though I wasn't really planning to start something like this on a Saturday morning…

This is now the second hour of King Loki's new regime, and as the bells toll, the Black Widow in my mind makes me aware of my less-than-sparkling workout abilities. Mindlessly conforming to the group's wishes has kept the cacophony of voices quiet in my head. Doing things this way isn't my cup of tea but complying is the only way I can hear my own thoughts. They're all so pushy.

After a lackluster performance in which I cursed whichever charlatan came up with the idea of deep lunges, I've once more hit the floor of my bedroom to please Natasha. All the while I am encouraged in a casually threatening tone to pick up my pace. Intense but effective.

"Ten more. You can do it. Be brave." I feel Brain-Natasha is mistaking a lack of bravery for a lack of strapping upper arm strength.

I'm still talking silently in my mind as opposed to out loud— economy of sound, as it were. Why waste the effort? I've got enough to focus on at the moment. 'What if we move on to something else, hon? Like sit ups?'

Loki was apparently overseeing the session and decided my input was not welcome. "Natasha, do you really want this lesser mortal questioning your instruction?"

"Perhaps not. You have a good point. Next, wide arms. Go!"

Her voice is calm and yet that hint of impatience… I wish I had retained the Avengers' superpowers as well as their consciousnesses. The powers had faded all too soon, and now I greatly regret that I have no super strength to aid me.

Still, I can do this. I think. Lift up, lower down.

Natasha's special brand of coaxing doesn't help. "Five more, and I don't want to stop again. This is the final push."

Well, I want to stop completely but we can't have everything we want.

We went on like this until we had worked our way through a set of strength and calisthenic exercises that would have made my 8th grade gym teacher proud. All that was missing was climbing a rope, and only because I don't have one.

"Good. We are finished for now," Natasha declares, "but practice in your down-time. You have far to go."

'Down-time?' As I rub my aching arms, I realize I haven't actually been given a time table for this new health & wellness routine. Loki did pop in to say that since I put in a full effort this morning he'll list out the rest of today's meal plan beforehand for a "sneak preview."

Other than that I'm at the mercy of the whims of a small band of heroes who have decided it's in their best interests (and in Loki's case, entertainment) to keep me hale and hearty. I could fight back, launch a coup, but there's more of them than there is of me, and Natasha only allows one break per session. That's not really enough time to rally the rest of my brain to the cause.

The infamous meal plan includes healthy carbs and produce, though in the end not the self-procured live poultry, despite Thor's urgings.

"T'would be a valiant show of strength and vigor!"

What a booming voice.

'Thor, sugah, not everyone has the stomach for hunting. Are there even animals on the grounds?'

"To be sure there is nothing to compare with the grand fauna of Asgard. But hark! I believe I hear a pheasant. Come hither, and I shall demonstrate to you the splendor of the chase!"

This is not what I had in mind for a midday snack.

Of course Loki always has something to say as well, his sneaking voice coming to the forefront of my mind. 'Come come now brother, don't take no for an answer from this frail earthling. Her kind need our expertise to guide them. You wouldn't want to leave her without survival skills, would you?'

"No, no of course not. That is why we are here, to help! Now my gentle lady, where do you keep your spears?"

I manage to bow my way out of this one by claiming "Maidenly Troubles", at which Thor coughs uncomfortably and backs off. This gives me a chance to review the other food items Loki had listed out as I enter the Mansion's kitchen.

Aside from the self-serve hunting policies, the meal plan is actually pretty well-balanced. One item I am instructed to engage with is green vegetables. Did you know the Hulk approves of baby spinach?('More! More! Little greens make you BIG green!')

I have to talk the Big Guy down and try to reason about the stomach capacity difference between us.

I wonder how long I'll have to be on today's plan. It doesn't seem sustainable. Wait, how long is this whole program? Loki? LOKI are you there hiding a copy of the schedule?!

Well, it's not like I have anything else to do besides follow that schedule: My scavenging through the house for food has shown that Logan is in fact away, Gambit's not around, and everyone else in the house steers clear of me, the modern day vampire who hides in her room.

Now if I could get a schedule to help me keep track of that fine man Gambit, that would be ideal. Keeping abreast of that thief's movements and location is impossible. I'd say he's stealthy like a cat, but the comparison fails since I don't keep company with creatures that hate me and bite my toes- I only want him, and those black and red eyes of his. Black like pitch, red like they're bloodshot with the lack of a thousand nights' sleep as he spends those thieving hours skulking in the dark, waiting, watching…

Definitely no time for all that. I don't think daydreaming is in the plan, and King Loki brooks no opposition.

—-

2 pm Saturday

Whose idea was it to put a track on the mansion grounds? Not mine. I doubt it's been used much. I'm pretty sure a casual race between mutants would simply devolve into a sabotage competition with ice and sparks and claws being used to trip each other up before the finish line. As of right now, it's the running part that has me a bit winded.

I pause on my most recent lap to catch my meager breath (how many is this again? Does Steve remember I'm not a super soldier?). The Captain is in fact my coach for this activity, a friendly voice with confidence and authority woven into it.

"Keep it up, Rogue. You know, I'm surprised you didn't already have a routine for training."

'Well hon, we've got other methods of survival. I don't think I need to remind you about mine and-."

"Yes, we wouldn't want to forget that now, would we mortal?"

One sentence, Loki. Just let me finish one.

'Ignore him, you're doing great, kid.'

'Thanks Steve. Just catching my breath. You're a good friend, in addition to being America's Captain.'

'Well, you stole my mind and that's why I'm in here. But we can stay friends, why not. It's never too late to make amends, and I know you meant well.'

'Right-e-o, sugah. It's just that I'm wondering… and don't get me wrong, I'm totally grateful for the cardio tips here, but I feel a bit overwhelmed by everyone- am I still steering the ship?'

'2 more laps. No "but's".'

'Yes sir.'

I focus on the middle distance, putting my body through its newly formed paces. At least Steve believes in the righteousness of this mission. Wait… does that make this any better?

'Look, you'll learn to love this, I just know it. The wind on your face, the steady motion….'

'But what if I want to try something else for my cardio? Say, Zoomba?' I always do love a good upbeat rhythm.

'Don't pass the buck just because this routine isn't a gas.'

'I have no idea what your old-timey phrases mean. Can you please translate?'

'No Zoomba.'

So that's not on the menu. I think quinoa is though, and it's nearly dinner. Maybe that will give me the strength to carb up and push them all out.

—-

7pm Saturday

After gathering my tired body from the track, and subsequently refueling ("MORE! MORE! SWEET POTATOES ARE HULK'S FRIEND!"), I have managed to call a halt to the proceedings. That earned me a "tut-tut" from Loki but it couldn't be helped.

I should be grateful that they're taking an interest. They could do far worse. I keep telling myself this as the sun sets on my desire to run my own brain and body.

Actually, it's just the sun setting in the sky through my bedroom window, no need to be dramatic. And the view of the sky is great tonight—it's all strings of clouds and orange flashes followed by a sleepy Royal blue. Despite what I hear, I'm pretty sure the majesty of Asgard has nothing on this sight.

Asgard. I suppose it is a different world there than inside the brain Loki is currently trapped in. Guess this is the end of his ambitions. And yet, isn't what's happening now exactly what Loki wants? To rule. It's pretty much what he's doing: He's got the other Avengers following his lead, and he's nearly run me over with his bulldozing methods. Ever so surely he is emerging as the top predator of my mind, feasting on the carcass of my personal will.

Well, no more. I'm taking back power before the sun fully sets on this day. I am strong. I am independent. I am….late for evening stretches.

Here we go. Last push of the day. Sitting down is both a relief and a pain. Man this dusty floor is not getting any softer.

Uh oh, it's happening: Loki's opening his obnoxious mouth again.

'Midgardian, we talked about your proclivity for static-only stretching. Do you really not remember my instructions? And have you been hydrating properly?'

'Loki, Sitting hurts. Moving hurts. I feel like some of this isn't a good idea and also like I'm not the one running the show here and- '

'Sounds like excuses to me, and we both know you're better than that.'

'Yes I am, and I— oh, I see what you did there. Very clever. I'm not in charge anymore, am I?'

'No. And if you had finished on time, you'd already be working on your 8 hours of prescribed sleep.'

He's right. Wrapping this up is my only hope for relief.

—

9pm Saturday

As I lie here in my creaking bed hoping for the blessed relief of slumber, my legs are tingling. It's been hours since my feet were slapping on that never ending track loop outside but there's a buzzing in my limbs that won't cease.

I wish the buzzing was in my head- it might drown out the cacophony of voices having a planning meeting in there. Was I invited to this gathering? I don't think so. Why wasn't I invited? I make for decent company, or so I've been told.

The voices quiet down as one comes to the forefront of my mind.

'We've come to a consensus.'

That voice is gentler than it needs to be. Is Loki actually trying to spare my feelings?

'The situation is more dire than we had thought. A full overhaul is needed and as the captain of the S.S. Sedentary I demand full rights and control over all your actions.'

Noises of assent come from my other residents. It seems The Avengers are for once in agreement. I would have hoped for more dissension among the ranks.

'Yes, brother, you would do well to make a move for power now.' (No he wouldn't, Thor.)

'This gal sure needs our help, don't you think, everybody?'(That's a great thought Steve, but no.)

'She tried hard. But today's push-ups were unsatisfactory. We will regroup tomorrow.' (Really, Natasha? Even after the tricep work? Harsh.)

'Guys, this is a big No Thanks. I don't need this. I've been doing just fine before this and- "

'But have you really, earthling?'

'Yes. Maybe. I think so, because—'

'Truthfully, You spend little time outside of your room anyway. We are your best bet for company. At least we know your ins and outs.'

They sure did know them, probably too well. No wonder it was so easy for Loki to take over, being the little button-pusher that he is. It's not that these activities are bad in and of themselves, but it's over the top, and most importantly I have no choice in the matter.

It would also be nice to finish a sentence once in a while, too.

Loki seems to feel he's made his point, and is finally leaving me alone with my thoughts. What's left of mine, anyway. Good.

It would be nice to be around someone who doesn't know my own thoughts before I do. Maybe that's the answer— more time spent outside of my mind than on the inside. I mean, I do live in a mansion full of people, though I feel cut off from everyone. But maybe that's my own doing.

Yes, this has got to end. I am strong and I am bold and I won't be pushed around any more in the name of "assistance". Come morning I will be the one in control of myself— not this band of merry misfits masquerading as a self improvement program.

As the voices quiet down and tuck themselves in for the night, I'm in that delirious stage of almost-sleep where visions appear as miniature versions of dreams: Thoughts are formed and then whisked away. Swirls of sugar plums and Cajuns and the kind of fairy tales that will never come true for me swim through my head. The only thought that lingers is that this day of meddling in my mind will be Loki's last.

I shall wake up tomorrow and find someone else to talk to. Someone alive, with a beating heart and flesh and blood. And then have a little chat with the squatters in my brain. That should help. Surely we can make peace until they leave.

Or, alternatively, they're simply stuck here forever and we'll do this skirmish again every few years.

Either/or.