A.N.:I did not want to, but I ended up mixing past and present tenses... I forgot how to write, lol. :D
Enjoy if you can, haha. I sure will :P
While listening to Star Sky this happened. I am currently obsessed with this song. Thomas Bergersen always inspires me, but I sheldon write what I think about. Not this time, though. I want to share a bit of that, haha.

As soon as the door closed behind him he dropped the sword, keeping the dagger on his right hand, and pressed the wound of his side with his left one. He advanced fast. The lights were flashing uncomfortably around him and the sound of the alarms was distracting, but he kept focused on his task. Once he reached the console, he started tipying on the keyboard, still not letting go of the dagger, with one finger. Admitedly, it would have been faster to drop it and let go of the wound for a moment to type faster, but he couldn't. He felt safer with his fingers curled around the hilt, hand pressed almost painfully to his side, soaking in his blood.

It was just a wisper, or maybe a change in the temperature, but he felt it at his back. Without missing a beat he twisted his body and with a firm grip, pointed his dagger at the intruder, the edge grazing the flesh on the neck, not quite cutting, but with enough pressure to sink without breaking the skin. The man, for the intruder is a man, looks surprised, startled even. His hands are lifted in a non-threatening way and his eyes widen. Loki manages to keep breathing steadily through the sting at his side.

"Easy there, handsome," the man says. Loki doesn't change his stance. The man cocks his head slightly while breaking into a bright smile. "I would like to know how you got here, but what I really want to know is why are you here, darling."

Loki doesn't even narrow his eyes at him. He is not going to answer, not yet anyways. His eyes leave the intruder for a second to sweep around the room to see if armed guards have entered. No one else seems to be there, but Loki doesn't relax just yet. He doesn't know this man, so he should be careful. The intruder could be hidding some weapon between the folds of his layered tunic. His eyes focus once again in the man in front of him.

"Listen, I just want to know why you are here instead of upstairs. And is that blood? Are you bleeding? Were you attacked?"

Loki's hand tightens over his side, feeling the sticky fluid between his fingers, coating his clothes. He has lost enough time. "I am here to steal a ship," he says, voice steady and low. Loki sees how the surprise paints the face of the man, grey eyebrows shooting up in his forehead. He continues, "and then I'll go up that gian portal. There's someone waiting for me." He points with his chin towards the window, from where the sky is visible. Massibe wormholes on the sky are constantly throwing garbage, but the biggest one, in the centre, seems to be vomiting whole cities.

"What?" The man seems startled again. "Why would you want to leave? No, wait. You want to steal a ship from here?" He laughs, almost nervously, it would seem, but Loki doesn't believe that for a second and narrows his eyes just slightly. "If you take one of the scrappers' ships you will be dead before you reach the rim, sweetness. You would need a bigger, sturdier ship."

Loki nods in aknowledgment. He is still standing strong, his hand is not trembling, but his vision is becoming blurry at the edges, and he can feel cold sweeping from the tip of his fingers. He has no time to waste with this man.

"Thank you for your information. Now, I must leave. Lives are at stake. I have to go save... Save my people. My-my brother is waiting..." Now, he can only see as if through a tunnel. Loki tries to shake his head minutely, but instead, his grip on the dagger slips and it falls to the floor with a clatter. Every sound seems muffled now, and he cannot concentrate on the man in front of him. He knows he is talking to him, his lips moving. Loki cannot help but think that that blue strip going down from the lower lip to the chin is kind of ridiculous just before everything turns black.

He wakes up laying on a cot. He is covered with a cotton sheet up to his hips, chest exposed. The wound on his side has been dressed in white bandages. With a swift glance he ascertains his surroundings: he is in a small room, one window, one cot, a small table with a single drawer, a chair. There are clothes resting on the chair, neatly folded. He sits on the cot and reaches for the clothes finding undergaments and dressing himself with them. Then, he eyes the rest: a waiscoat, leather breeches, boots. Loki frowns before dressing completely. Once all the pieces are put, he waves his hand, changing them into something more to his tastes. Just as he finishes the lasts touches to his outfit, the door opens and closes. He turns around to find a woman wearing a warrior's armour. She smiles in a feral way. He responds in kind with his own toothy grin.

"Greetings, my lady."

"Hello, cockroach."

Loki is surprised at her words for a few seconds. It takes him only the blink of an eye to bark a laugh. "Cockroach... Well. I suppose my gratitude is in order, for my wound has been dressed and I've been provided with clothing." He bows slightly, taking care of not losing sight of the woman. Once he is upright he can see how her eyebrows shot up on her face, amusement and surprise mixed in her expression. Loki infers she is not used to people answering politely to her insults.

"Yes, well. The boss didn't want you dead yet."

Loki lets another toothy grin plaster his lips. "Yet," he repeats, noncommittally. The woman laughes now, just as Loki did a few moments ago.

"Yes. Do not worry. Sakaar's executions are public."

"So, as long as I am in a private place, I can count myself safe," he said.

"Not as simple, but yes. So long you are liked by the boss, that's it. You are a new face, pretty boy, so you have a bit of a heads up, but be mindful of what you do. The boss' patience grows thin in the blink of an eye, and you won't always be his favourite. Now, follow me. It's time to meet your new master." With that, the woman turns around and, without waiting to see if Loki is following, leaves the room.

Loki grimaces. So he is a pet now. And he is going to get interrogated. Marvelous.

More notes: I am working on this. Sometimes slowly, others fast. I don't know where this is going. Thanks for reading. :)