Koyaanisqatsi (Hopi) - "nature out of balance"; a way of life that is so unbalanced that one needs for a new way of living
Nine months since the fall.
Five months since the Void.
Four months since he arrived on this backwater realm, half forgotten by the rest of Yggdrasil.
He stared at the window panes, soaked with raindrops and casting shadows in the pale room. A large mug of tea sat in his palm, faint wisps of steam curling against his face in the cool morning air, yet, as comforting as he found the drink, he couldn't seem to bring himself to drink it.
Four months since he'd woken up in that Midgardian hospital, swathed in bandages and struggling to even stand on his own feet.
Four months of hiding among library books shelves and fleeing from city to city, gathering every scrap of knowledge he could find and creating a new identity for himself.
Four months of being antagonized by mortals, threatening, chasing, at times, even trying to attack him to get their hands on his power and magic. They wanted to make him into a fine chess piece for their mortal games for power, money, and domination over others.
But even villains should know monsters are rarely seen wearing leashes...
Loki sighed, running a hand over his face, letting the warmth of his mug sink into his cold fingers. Funny how all the stories about heroes and monsters in Asgard all conveniently forgot to mention how monsters could be robbed of sleep as well...
How long has it been since he'd slept without exhaustion or pain to smooth it's path?
How long has it been since he'd had a dream without blood or death or betrayal tainting his mind?
How long...?
The spells over his front door suddenly tingled against his skin, warning him of the intruder standing before it.
Loki sighed, closing his eyes as he sagged briefly against the beaten cushions of the couch. For the love of the Norns, what now? Was it his destiny now to be forever condemned to being harrassed by these persistent hounds?
He stood slowly, straightening his shoulders and his keeping his expression blank as he heard the soft rap of knuckles against his door, stiffly putting his tea down before moving to answer it.
The door cracked open as Loki peered down at the unassuming man standing before him, wearing a black suit and meeting his gaze with calm blue eyes. The little man smiled, holding up a badge and ID.
"Hello Mr. Silfer. My name is Agent Phil Coulson from SHIELD. May I come in and ask you a few questions?"
Loki fought down the tension that suddenly lanced through his body, and worked to keep his expression mildly surprised at the Agent's inquiry. "May I ask what for?" He asked, blinking at the man before him.
"It deals with the various agents that have come to talk to you for the past 3 months."
Loki did tense that time. But before he could do so much as reach for his magic, the man spoke again.
"And I feel that I should mention that if something happens to me, there is a highly trained sniper outside with enough firepower to make this apartment look like the remains of World War II." The Agent said, as if he were mentioning something he'd heard in the news rather than a threat against Loki's person.
Loki was stiff, his jaw tense for a long moment, before he slowly reached up to undo the lock over his door. He let it swing open, his expression hard and blank as he stepped back to make more room for the mortal.
"A wise decision." Agent Coulson said with a smile, before stepping into the small apartment, glancing around at the lack of furnishings.
Loki turned, glaring after the agent, closing the door after him sullenly.
As the agent seated himself onto the couch Loki had just vacated, Loki lightly strode forward, raising an elegant eyebrow at the man as he crossed his arms.
"So what will it be this time? Offers of riches? Of power? A gentle hand to lift me from my humble abode? Or perhaps a threat? Torture? If you are going to go down that route you'll have to practice your creative skills. I've heard that particular one far too often." Loki said, watching the agent as he strode around the couch, lazily pacing the space.
"No." The Agent smiled from his seat. "Our organization doesn't do torture. Or power. More often than not we're the ones who keep it in check." He said. "In fact, that's probably part of why my organization's name is SHIELD."
Loki held back a snort as he paced, his gaze calculating as he moved thoughtfully.
"SHIELD specializes with individuals with unusual abilities."
"Such as?" Loki asked, not looking at the agent as he walked.
"Such as the ability to appear in a flash of light at Central Park sustaining severe injuries that would make Jack the Ripper proud. The ability to escape a secured hospital ward without any eyewitnesses or security footage of doing so. The ability to convince top agents to tell you highly confidential government secrets, and then vanish into thin air afterwards." Agent Coulson said, with an air of patience that would have put Eir to shame back in Asgard-
No.
Not now.
Not ever.
Focus.
Loki crossed his arms, stopping to stare down the remarkably placid agent as he wrestled down the urge to simply end this mortal who had the gall to confront him in his home. It made his fingers itch fiercely. "And what would your fine establishment do with someone with abilities such as these?" He asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"That information's classified." The Agent said shortly. "But if my gut instinct is right, you'll find that our organization will be of great interest to you."
Loki was silent, and began to slowly pace again. "And what gives you cause to believe I would be interested in your organization? I could be a criminal, or a spy. Perhaps I'm a thief. Perhaps even a potential invader."
"A possibility, but unlikely." The Agent replied smoothly. "After your unusual arrival, we kept an eye out on several reports. We've counted four minor league hostiles, and one potentially hazardous one that have approached you in these last few months. Two of which have ceased all activity afterwards, and were later found to be deceased."
Loki let a small smile twitch at the corner of his mouth, and raised his chin confidently. "There have been seven encounters with these...hostiles. And all are positive they must be my superior on the playing field. Their mistake really."
Coulson's eyebrows raised minutely. "Seven...how'd we miss...- nevermind. To answer your question, I believe that if you were a potential criminal mastermind, you would have left a lot more destruction behind you than you currently have. Wherever you came from, and I know you're not from earth, we have the 911 call to prove it; I believe you've grown attached to the people around you. Otherwise you wouldn't have made such a huge effort to turn people's heads away, so to speak, if you were interested in their offers."
"And you believe I am interested in yours?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I've yet to be stabbed brutally through the chest. I'd tentatively label that as 'above disinterest'."
Loki snorted. "And what exactly, are you trying to offer me Agent Coulson?" Loki asked, stopping to tower over the seated mortal.
"An alternative." Agent Coulson said. "Employment and protection against these other people who are seeking you out."
"And attempted kidnapping and assault fall under the category of 'alternative'?" Loki asked, his tone sharp as his green eyes hardened as he clenched his fists.
"Downside of working on covert operations." Coulson replied unabashed. "Simply asking isn't always what comes to mind first."
That was...true enough...He thought as he turned away, walking over to the window to stare down at the rain soaked streets below, his gaze thoughtful as he looked. "And what," he began "would happen should I become interested in your project? What happens next?"
The Agent smiled genially. "Well, I'd ask if we could go somewhere private to talk, where your landlady is less likely to walk in on our conversation."
Loki's lips pursed, narrowing his eyes at the mention of the gentle old woman who lived in the apartment just below. Manipulation. Leading him away from witnesses, casually mentioning one of the many innocents he had met since arriving in this city. Paranoia was ingrained into his soul, and couldn't afford to trust.
Perhaps he'd never trust again.
"You would be wise to see yourself out Mr. Coulson."
The Agent sighed, standing up smoothly. "It was worth a try." Coulson said to himself, before reaching into his coat pocket, pulling out a crisp white business card. "You can reach me by this phone number if you change your mind." He said lightly, placing the card down onto the worn coffee table.
"Noted."
The Agent straightened his coat, and walked out, the faint squeak and click of the door announcing his departure. Loki sat still, staring at the card on the coffee table. It was not what he was expecting. It was...well, he certainly wasn't expecting that in the least...
He stood, reaching over to pick up the card from the table as he reclaimed his seat from earlier, taking a sip from his cooling mug of tea as he did so.
It was blank. No logos, no email, only the name 'Phil Coulson', and what was doubtless his phone number.
An alternative...
Loki tossed the card down next to his portable house phone, before flicking on the old television set.
"Today Tony Stark releases the newest in his line of..."
