|ᛚᛟᚲᛁ has a silver tongue. (the_trickster) wrote in avengers_logs,|
@ 2020-06-30 13:40:00
|Entry tags:||-gamewide plot, -narrative, loki laufeyson|
What: Welcome to....
Notes: narrative for a gamewide plot set up.
As one hour bled seamlessly into the next, it was already impossible to tell how many days had passed, or even when it was night or day. He was continuously moved, the collar around his throat a reminder that he shouldn't use his magic, that they had an easy way to bring him to heel if he dared lashed out. Even with that reminder, his patience was threadbare. More than once, a spooked guard had to shock him, when he started to look as though he was contemplating a hundred different ways to kill them in less than one minute.
This time, something different happened, breaking the monotony of his current existence. The cuffs and hood were taken off as he was nudged into a brightly lit room, although the collar was left on. The door shut, and several locks could be heard. There was no handle from the inside of this cell.
The cell itself was different. This seemed like it was a place to move and lounge about. There was a spacious bed, and floor to ceiling windows afforded a view of tall palm trees and a teal sea under a bright blue sky.
Whatever this place was, it was no dungeon. Not by Midgard's standards, and certainly not by Asgardian standards, at all.
He approached the bed with all the wariness of a gaunt animal on edge with its surroundings, eyeing everything as though suspicious of every comfort hiding a trap behind it. He had frequented Midgardian hotels before. This looked similar. Although this resembled a luxury hotel, this place seemed somehow...off. Not only because there was a white towel twisted into the shape of a swan on the bed, either. Which was ridiculous. Who did that with a towel, other than a bored child?
He began to look through the room for clues. A television was on the wall, but upon closer inspection, he could find no way to turn it on or find where it was plugged into. His eyes rested on a nearby postcard that was propped up on the desk below the television. Reading that was none too comforting, he thought, while idly itching a finger between the collar and his neck.
He walked over to the window and looked for an opening. Although there was a balcony, there was no way to get out onto it. There was a solid, thick, pane of glass that separated him from the outside world.
Loki frowned. This seemed better on the surface, but the postcard and this window were sure signs that he was just as much a prisoner as he ever was before.
Frustrated, Loki picked up the desk chair and threw it at the glass. It bounced off harmlessly, not even leaving a scuff on the clear surface. Even the chair was unharmed by the experience and remained in one piece.
He began kicking at the desk and even tried flipping over the bed. While the desk chair moved, everything else was bolted down and unbreakable Even with his strength being what it was, all he was doing was leaving quickly healing bruises on himself.
After he let out an angry hiss of an exhale, that was when he heard it.
A subtle whir of gears, barely perceptible, coming from somewhere behind him.
He cast a sharp look back over a shoulder, jaw tightly set and eyes full of fury, focusing on a glassy glint in the corner of the room. A little black orb, barely the width of his smallest fingertip, was nestled into the ceiling — a camera that was undoubtedly watching his every move.
Scanning the roomk, he discovered that there were cameras everywhere. Including the bathroom, which was sorely lacking in sharp objects or breakable furnishings.
Whoever was watching him, he did not know. But Loki had the distinct feeling he would be lucky if he didn't find out.