Song of Fire and Fire
Deep, deep underneath Asgard's surface, where even the forgotten ones forget, lied a fraud. A phoney long since discarded. To rot, writhe and hate. A creature despised by all who laid it's sights upon it, and feared when not bound by chain and woe. Deep underneath the surface of Asgard, there lies one who was visited by none other than one. Asgardian flesh wrongly garnered decorated its body to mask it's own shame.
Down in the dungeon, far far away, lied a cruel cruel fate, for one who so easily belayed. Matted red hair crowned his head, and green eyes that once shone bright were murky and dead. His lips rasp, a choking cough exiting him. Deep in the Dungeon lied Loki, God of Fire. His wrist bound by chain forged by dwarves, that covered his hands in a semi oval shape. His legs bound by confinements meant to stop any tampering or tricks he may pull. His own frame weak from malnutrition and wavering on anorexic.
Yet...even discarded, beaten and left, Loki lived day in and day out. It had been longer, than he could remember, he still feels the pain in his throat, from the first few weeks of defiance, of shouts and anger, of pleading and begging, grovelling and despair. And yet still, no one came. Not even Frigga, for her last visit had been long ago. By this time it's more than likely Hela had taken over, and she willingly chose to let him stay here. Would Thor rebel, or flee and start anew, he had wondered long, long ago. He could no longer say he cared one way or another.
Yet even here, locked and tossed away, without his illusions, his fire, his teleportation, Loki felt shifts. Ripples that shouldn't exist, a change and warp in fabrics and the tearing of Magic. Even bound and weak he could feel the wave of magic be disturbed. For a second, a single moment of time, he felt the thrum, the fire of his magic reach him. He felt for a single instant the power that coursed through his veins and felt himself rise. For a fleeting millisecond, gone in the blink of an eye, his chains twitched, and ceased their functions. Perhaps a malfunction, perhaps the ripples did this, or perhaps he gained the fortune of a g- no, never those beings. But for a moment Loki was whole. And that moment was all that was needed, with Loki quickly exiting his chains.
Testing his body, Loki rubbed his wrist and looked upon his frame. A palm, more bone than meat rose, and from it sprouted a fire. A fire so small, and pathetically weak it threatened to flicker out at the smallest breeze. A smile, a fierce smile of promise, and hatred and love and a thousand other feelings went through him. And then he began to act. For all those years he promised of revenge and plotted an escape he knew, deep down in that muddled mind of his that he could not take on all of Asgard. No, rather he had a different plan of action. A deep breath entered his lungs, and he stretched his waking limbs, preparing to do something he'd never done before.
His right hand outstretched in front of him, and his left started to pull back, as if drawing a bow with his whole hand. A sensation, a lovely, forgotten sensation of magic pulsed out of him, and he smiled as he felt the ways in which magic turned and twisted, and filtered into the space in front of him. And then he began to try to curve it in different ways, to rip the stitching of the universe and try to resow it into a plastic duck. Well, at least that's the best analogy he could find to explain what he was doing. A sharp 45 degree angle turn there, a slash of his magic into the binomial and inserting it into the form of a 2 dimensional shape. And there. It was not easy, by no means was it, and he doubts he could do it again without the universe's foundations being as malleable as they are. But after centuries without his abilities, Loki could feel all the interesting way magic interacted and moved.
His glowing, ethereal portal stood proudly before him, and without a second's thought he leapt forward. Down and then right, diagonally and yet backwards, the crashes of dimensions sounded through his ears, and eternities greeted him by in a second. He saw the figure of unknown beings, of big heads, purple crusaders, bedazzled humanoids and even an armored unit who seemed to observe him as well, before letting him pass.
Then he saw space, or rather was in space. An empty familiar wide open void with stars that burned so beautifully he'd forgotten what they looked like. He saw yet more, his own dark magic letting him view it all, an unfamiliar new fresh setting-
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand there's a portal below him. It was unlike his own, one that showed an unfamiliar urban environment, currently on fire in the most wondrous of ways. Around him warriors of an unfamiliar race flew past, diving into the hole and coming out to attack the...city? It seemed to be one at least, though with very froeign architecture. One spotting him flew in, a blade at the ready. That one was burned first. A few more try it, before the army began giving him a wide berth as he seemed to not be hostile outside of self defense. More interestingly was the warrior who flew out of the portal, plated in gold and red with spectacular fire blowing from the bottom of his feet and his arms gripping a rather large missile.
Loki glanced disappointingly back at the portal, waiting for more to appear. While certainly one missile may be able to breach and damage a ship, theres' very little reason for it to be capable of destroying the entire thing. The portal itself had been closing, meaning this warrior was likely one last suicide mission and insult to the enemy. Loki back to the portal, trying to analyze the place. Hey is that the tesseract? What's it doing down t-
Then the sky turned into flames.
The suddenness catches the false Asgardian off guard and he is sent tumbling backwards through the hole and down and far out into a blue ocean. The fire burned the rags of his clothes, and Loki could sense the chemical nature of it, and felt himself shudder the radioactive residue that washed over him. He'd been immune, of course but it did not mean he couldn't feel disgust at it's nature. Twirling through the sky Loki was tossed, sailing past falling past the creatures, buildings and even… Thor. Though this may ntobe his own, Loki promised himself to right his own wrongs and befriend this one. Surely his version of him couldn't have ended up as he did. Not too much longer Loki found his face meeting concrete, and a crater picked up as he entered a rather sudden sleep. He dreamed of fire.
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