He’d made it out.
They’d thought they could keep him entrapped.. keep him locked away for eternity. But they were wrong, of course. Loki Silvertongue would always be able to slip away. Whether or not he was Odinson or Laufeyson, he did not know. Perhaps it simply did not matter anymore. He was merely Loki, and that was enough. He needed no one else.
Viridian hues darting about the city he had only just stepped into, the trickster calculated his next step. Unfortunately, although it was apparent that he had returned to Midgard, of all realms, it still seemed that he was locked away — simply within a larger perimeter.
But he certainly had enough to play with, this time.
An entire city, with him right in the center of it all.. those scientists must have been fools to allow him there. At least, Loki would have believed that, had he not realized how weakened his own abilities were. Regarding his magic, he could only sense a mere whisper of power coming from within. And he had been given only a staff.. made of wood. That would need to be rectified. No doubt a more suitable weapon could be found, given time.
Stepping forth, Loki strode towards the closest being he could set eyes upon — and thus he tailed them, intending to make a move once they were further from the crowd of humans. It would not do to make much of a wreck so soon. Who they were was of no matter to him. What was important, however, was the fact that this was his first move.. The start of his plans on Earth. A simple flick of his wrist triggered an illusion, causing his staff to appear to be made of a golden metal of sorts with a cruel, sharp tip at the end. A formidable weapon.
But it was almost too easy. Within minutes, he had followed the person down a smaller street, immediately striding forward to grasp them by the collar of their attire and drag them aside, immediately pinned against the wall. A vicious sneer was upon the trickster’s features whilst he stared them in the eye, staff tip against their chest — it would not be able to cause the same damage as the illusion it appeared to be, as it truly was only a weapon made of wood.. However, it would suffice as enough to perhaps frighten his victim.
“I’d thought entering Midgard would be more difficult than this — Yet so far I have been.. disappointed.”
He canted his head to the side.
“Do you know who I am?”
It seemed that things were settling down again.
The self-proclaimed Earl Trancy and his butler had disappeared, leaving things to subdue once more. Life became simple once again. His days consisted of nothing more than cooking, cleaning, and occasionally, grocery shopping. It was far too dull for his tastes. He desired something more, much more. He sought delight, a way out of this drudgery. This had all been a game from the very beginning, had it not? A game set in place by the scientists, who desired nothing more than watching their variables resort to any means necessary to escape their role of pawn. But what was a game without thrills? Without excitement, a game was not truly a game.
And it was there
with that thought that he noted it. Footsteps. Any other person would have failed to distinguish the abnormality in them. They would not have recognized the irregular tempo. The footfalls fell with purpose, with a determined intent. Blunted instincts committing to him a tad too late, given how close the man behind him was growing, his gaze shifted. Just as he had suspected, they were the only two on this street, undoubtedly making him the target of the man’s quick gait.
Ah, he had sought something interesting, and it came.
It was true then.
Speak of the devil and he will come.
Sebastian’s own paces slowed in tempo, moving precisely a beat slower. He would let the man behind him approach, would let the man show him exactly what he wanted to do.
It hadn’t taken long for the man to step around him, moving in front of him. It was only for a split second, however, because before Sebastian could so much as speak, he was grabbed by the collar of his tailcoat. That he had not been expecting. It was rare for someone to be able to catch him off guard, to be have the ability to move just as quick, if not quicker, as he. Before he was aware of what was happening, his back was slammed against the wall of a nearby alley.
The ever capable Phantomhive butler found himself pinned, a cruelly sharpened staff pressed against his chest. He hadn’t been anticipating that, either. It was also rare to find someone that was capable of matching him in physical strength. He suddenly found himself defensive, unsure of whether he was fond of the “entertainment” he had been given. He already found himself loathing this position, detesting the man who dared force him into a corner.
Once again, before Sebastian could speak, the stranger acted first. The demon made no act of resistance, but instead, merely listened. He spoke as if he believed he was in Midgard. He was familiar with the concept. It was a realm spoken of in Norse mythology, and, as far as Sebastian knew, it was nothing more. To hear this man speaking as if he were there struck him as odd for several reasons. One
as far as he knew, it did not exist and two, the cage they had been trapped in went by the name of Hive City, not Midgard.
This man obviously had little idea of where he actually was, leading Sebastian to realize he had only newly arrived. And that begged the question
if he had only just appeared within the city’s confines, then how was he able to flaunt such a formidable weapon? The demon’s eyes narrowed, suddenly finding himself contemptuous.
“No, I do not.” Slightly curious as to what he could draw from the other, he did not correct him. For this man radiated power, but above that, anger and hatred. “And from my impression of your manners, I do not care to.” His eyes narrowed, irises flashing dangerously as he continued, tone suddenly darkening, softening in texture. “Now, I would appreciate it greatly if you removed your arm from my person.” It took no more than a simple twirl of the finger, a delicate movement that brought much damage.
The man’s arm twisted, the cracking of his bones slicing though the silence of the alley as his arm contorted grotesquely. Paying no heed to him for a small moment, Sebastian, now freed, stepped around him, anticipating the stranger’s reaction.