NotNiceAngel
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jan 8, 2013
- Location
- USA
Ninael could vividly remember the day that she first met the God of Mischief here on Earth:
It was early morning when they let her into the detention area where Loki was kept. Director Fury already briefed her: she was only there because she was an expert on Norse mythology and language. She had the best understanding of the gods. Loki confused even the most able scholars; he was a complexity which divided them, and with every theory, there arose at least two to contradict it once he was done.
When she found him standing there in the huge, suspended Plexiglas cell, she simply paused. She wasn't a fool, she knew he knew she was there, and a soft laugh fell from his lips. "Is there any particular reason you feel compelled to watch me, mortal?" Loki turned to face Ninael, his emerald eyes glinting like chips of broken glass. She did not tremble or even waver. She'd seen his face through cameras and windows; she was used to it. He was as imposing in person as he was on camera, and she inwardly thought he was a puzzle to be solved.
A wry smile curved her mouth. "Curious thing, aren't you?" she remarked, her gaze assessing him. "A tangle of intricacies. What a confused being you must be." His brow elevated, and she felt a flicker of satisfaction at realizing she had piqued his interest, even if it was only slightly. He nodded as if to tell her to continue. "You seek approval," she said, meandering around the cage and strolling towards the glass. "You believe that conquering this realm will win you brownie points. Respect, even. But I wonder if you even understand this world, Loki Laufeyson."
The Prince's jaw tensed at that remark, and he took a step forward, his eyes icy. "You presume much, mortal."
"Ah, so I'm right," she laughed quietly, and looked at him, unafraid due to the glass. He was much taller than her, much more striking, but she knew she could walk away. Unlike the many others, Loki did not inspire fear in her. He tilted his head, studying her. His eyes flickered; she was not one he could fathom quickly, and he listened, faintly intrigued by her. "I know you're going to get out," she continued calmly. "You let yourself get captured. You're ten steps ahead of everyone. I can see it. You hide it well, but your eyes are far too expressive," Loki grinned. "You're a classic case of 'problems stemming from childhood'," Ninael replied, sardonically. He cocked his head in acquiescence, eyes flashing only briefly. Her eyes appraised him standing there. He was regal even when caged; he reeked of superiority. There was no denying he truly believed he should rule Earth. But there was no way he could. "Seven billion people? Seriously?"
"Of course." His voice was calm. "I will be your realm's king, and every single one of you shall kneel."
"Not me." She gazed at him. "That is not my way. I have never deferred to anyone; you will hardly change that, I think. I don't do well with authority."
"Are you giving me a challenge, little mortal?" Loki's eyes gleamed as he took a step forward. "How tempting…I accept."
She smiled dryly. "You would." Ninael paused, measuring her words. "Care to tell me why you chose Midgard?"
Loki was visibly surprised by the speech that fell from her lips: Old Norse. He tilted his head, his green eyes calculating. "I have never met a mortal who knows the language of Asgard," he says softly, the same vernacular rolling out of his mouth fluently. "Intriguing. So they sent you here to see if I can be seduced into surrender, the one who speaks my tongue." He smirked. "I see. Well, Ms. Eva…I am afraid I shall have to disappoint you."
The fact that he knew her name did not surprise her in the least; he was a god, and a powerful one at that. He could have a thousand abilities and telepathy seemed almost a given. It did not mean she accepted it, and her eyes narrowed. "Skim my mind again, and I will not hesitate to blow you sky-high, bastard."
He laughed. "My dear Ninael, your bullets cannot harm me. None of your feeble mortal weapons can. Your threats are meaningless."
Her eyebrow lifted at that. "Am I so little?"
"Of course you are. You all are, to my kind."
"Would that be Asgardian, or Jotun?" She knew she was treading a thin line; Thor had warned her not to bring the subject up. But she couldn't resist; the fact that she had called him Laufeyson instead of Odinson had rankled him, and she gained some form of twisted pleasure from it. Sure enough, his eyes darkened, and he walked forwards, menace wafting off his skin, shaping his expression.
"Have a care how you speak."
"Why?" Ninael's shrug was elegant. "I neither know nor respect you. You are a complete stranger; it matters not how I address you."
His sudden smile threw her off guard. The look in his eyes was almost predatory, and Ninael felt a ripple of unease slither down her spine. She felt as though she were about to fall into a trap. "Oh, how wrong you are," his tone was triumphant, laced with amusement. "How very wrong you are. How very wrong indeed." The linguist took a step back. He was playing a game she was not privy to; it left her off-balance. She stared at him, trying to guess his motives, his next move. He simply smiled. "You will kneel. In time."
Ninael scoffed and folded her arms over her busty chest in an attempt to regain composure. "I'm only one mortal. I do not think I am that significant."
His head cocked. "You present a challenge, my dear; one you made it far too easy for me to accept. A chase. A game, if you will. And I fully intend to play you. In every…single…way."
His voice had dropped to a pur, and it unnerved her and aroused her. And judging by the smirk on his face, he knew it. Ninael realized she had had enough of him. She wanted out; never mind what Fury wanted. Enough was enough. She wouldn't crack him – at least, not yet. She forced her cheeks to cool, and fixed him with an iron stare, though her heart was thundering with apprehension. "It will not happen. You will lose, and we will win. As we always have done." She turned on her heel and left, almost desperate to leave the chamber. She did not see Loki's smile, or hear his murmured reply: "Ah, but there is always a first time for everything."
Three days afterwards, and the world watched as a tall, poised being arose from the rubble of the city of New York, proudly proclaiming himself King. The Avengers had been defeated. Any immediate resistance was all but eradicated. Four months later, the world had been brought to its knees. Loki had won.
A shudder raced down Ninael's spine at the memory. Since that day, she had been running from Loki; however, she knew it was no good. He was only toying with her, but at least it gave her some hope. Ninael currently worked at a small library in the middle of nowhere at the edge of Wyoming. Her hair was a sort of ash brown and landed at her waist, and her eyes were a gentle, dark blue that seemed to always draw people in. Her hair was kept down and straight just like her summer dress that she had pressed. Sighing, Ninael went back to her work, trying to forget that she was wanted by the most powerful being currently on Earth.
It was early morning when they let her into the detention area where Loki was kept. Director Fury already briefed her: she was only there because she was an expert on Norse mythology and language. She had the best understanding of the gods. Loki confused even the most able scholars; he was a complexity which divided them, and with every theory, there arose at least two to contradict it once he was done.
When she found him standing there in the huge, suspended Plexiglas cell, she simply paused. She wasn't a fool, she knew he knew she was there, and a soft laugh fell from his lips. "Is there any particular reason you feel compelled to watch me, mortal?" Loki turned to face Ninael, his emerald eyes glinting like chips of broken glass. She did not tremble or even waver. She'd seen his face through cameras and windows; she was used to it. He was as imposing in person as he was on camera, and she inwardly thought he was a puzzle to be solved.
A wry smile curved her mouth. "Curious thing, aren't you?" she remarked, her gaze assessing him. "A tangle of intricacies. What a confused being you must be." His brow elevated, and she felt a flicker of satisfaction at realizing she had piqued his interest, even if it was only slightly. He nodded as if to tell her to continue. "You seek approval," she said, meandering around the cage and strolling towards the glass. "You believe that conquering this realm will win you brownie points. Respect, even. But I wonder if you even understand this world, Loki Laufeyson."
The Prince's jaw tensed at that remark, and he took a step forward, his eyes icy. "You presume much, mortal."
"Ah, so I'm right," she laughed quietly, and looked at him, unafraid due to the glass. He was much taller than her, much more striking, but she knew she could walk away. Unlike the many others, Loki did not inspire fear in her. He tilted his head, studying her. His eyes flickered; she was not one he could fathom quickly, and he listened, faintly intrigued by her. "I know you're going to get out," she continued calmly. "You let yourself get captured. You're ten steps ahead of everyone. I can see it. You hide it well, but your eyes are far too expressive," Loki grinned. "You're a classic case of 'problems stemming from childhood'," Ninael replied, sardonically. He cocked his head in acquiescence, eyes flashing only briefly. Her eyes appraised him standing there. He was regal even when caged; he reeked of superiority. There was no denying he truly believed he should rule Earth. But there was no way he could. "Seven billion people? Seriously?"
"Of course." His voice was calm. "I will be your realm's king, and every single one of you shall kneel."
"Not me." She gazed at him. "That is not my way. I have never deferred to anyone; you will hardly change that, I think. I don't do well with authority."
"Are you giving me a challenge, little mortal?" Loki's eyes gleamed as he took a step forward. "How tempting…I accept."
She smiled dryly. "You would." Ninael paused, measuring her words. "Care to tell me why you chose Midgard?"
Loki was visibly surprised by the speech that fell from her lips: Old Norse. He tilted his head, his green eyes calculating. "I have never met a mortal who knows the language of Asgard," he says softly, the same vernacular rolling out of his mouth fluently. "Intriguing. So they sent you here to see if I can be seduced into surrender, the one who speaks my tongue." He smirked. "I see. Well, Ms. Eva…I am afraid I shall have to disappoint you."
The fact that he knew her name did not surprise her in the least; he was a god, and a powerful one at that. He could have a thousand abilities and telepathy seemed almost a given. It did not mean she accepted it, and her eyes narrowed. "Skim my mind again, and I will not hesitate to blow you sky-high, bastard."
He laughed. "My dear Ninael, your bullets cannot harm me. None of your feeble mortal weapons can. Your threats are meaningless."
Her eyebrow lifted at that. "Am I so little?"
"Of course you are. You all are, to my kind."
"Would that be Asgardian, or Jotun?" She knew she was treading a thin line; Thor had warned her not to bring the subject up. But she couldn't resist; the fact that she had called him Laufeyson instead of Odinson had rankled him, and she gained some form of twisted pleasure from it. Sure enough, his eyes darkened, and he walked forwards, menace wafting off his skin, shaping his expression.
"Have a care how you speak."
"Why?" Ninael's shrug was elegant. "I neither know nor respect you. You are a complete stranger; it matters not how I address you."
His sudden smile threw her off guard. The look in his eyes was almost predatory, and Ninael felt a ripple of unease slither down her spine. She felt as though she were about to fall into a trap. "Oh, how wrong you are," his tone was triumphant, laced with amusement. "How very wrong you are. How very wrong indeed." The linguist took a step back. He was playing a game she was not privy to; it left her off-balance. She stared at him, trying to guess his motives, his next move. He simply smiled. "You will kneel. In time."
Ninael scoffed and folded her arms over her busty chest in an attempt to regain composure. "I'm only one mortal. I do not think I am that significant."
His head cocked. "You present a challenge, my dear; one you made it far too easy for me to accept. A chase. A game, if you will. And I fully intend to play you. In every…single…way."
His voice had dropped to a pur, and it unnerved her and aroused her. And judging by the smirk on his face, he knew it. Ninael realized she had had enough of him. She wanted out; never mind what Fury wanted. Enough was enough. She wouldn't crack him – at least, not yet. She forced her cheeks to cool, and fixed him with an iron stare, though her heart was thundering with apprehension. "It will not happen. You will lose, and we will win. As we always have done." She turned on her heel and left, almost desperate to leave the chamber. She did not see Loki's smile, or hear his murmured reply: "Ah, but there is always a first time for everything."
Three days afterwards, and the world watched as a tall, poised being arose from the rubble of the city of New York, proudly proclaiming himself King. The Avengers had been defeated. Any immediate resistance was all but eradicated. Four months later, the world had been brought to its knees. Loki had won.
A shudder raced down Ninael's spine at the memory. Since that day, she had been running from Loki; however, she knew it was no good. He was only toying with her, but at least it gave her some hope. Ninael currently worked at a small library in the middle of nowhere at the edge of Wyoming. Her hair was a sort of ash brown and landed at her waist, and her eyes were a gentle, dark blue that seemed to always draw people in. Her hair was kept down and straight just like her summer dress that she had pressed. Sighing, Ninael went back to her work, trying to forget that she was wanted by the most powerful being currently on Earth.
