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 IF THE FATES ALLOW, back in time, tag maggie!
 Posted: May 29 2018, 06:49 PM
online status
goddess of battlewrath
6 posts

if the fates allow

"Modi, this is far too rash, even for yourself." Magni stressed, walking by his little sister's side as the pair walked down the corridor. Modi rolled her eyes, looking on either side of them before retorting, "You often worry regarding my brashness and I heed your many a warning, however, has that ever stopped me before?" She turned to face Magni, the hallway almost completely abandoned, besides the two Jotunns. Magni sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nay, it hasn't had an affect, however this is Asgard, litla systir, and were we to be removed from this realm, we'd have nowhere else to turn to. I'm sure that our remaining comrades in Jotunnheim, or what's left of it, at least, have labeled us traitors."

Modi scoffed. "Let them, we have proven time and time again that we are to best them in any circumstance. I'm not called 'Modi the Berserker' for nothing." She commented. She did another look around to make sure there weren't any prying eyes- or ears. No one trusted the siblings, Modi was sure of it. And what was more, Modi didn't trust them either. "Is your comrade ready?" She asked her elder brother. Magni sighed, and nodded. "Odr said he would release the prisoners at half past noon." He stated.

Modi nodded. "We have at least an hour before we need to be in position. However, we need to scope out the dungeon first. The exits and entrances, who's on guard, besides Odr. So we'll go now," She said as the pair rounded the corner, approaching the dungeons. "There's no going back."

An hour came and went swiftly, and the commotion following Odr's mass release of the prisoners in this particular sector sprouted utter chaos. Modi tossed Magni her spare sword, Valkyrja holstered at her side. "Get them back into their cells!" She exclaimed for a cover. The siblings shared a quick, curt nod, before Modi began to fight her way through the prisoners, over two dozen at least. The only one left in their cell? Well, that was Loki. The prisoners coming at her were all fairly weak, and required little injuries to either knock them out our kill them.

As Modi ripped the heart out of one, she met the emerald eyes that of which belonged to her target, and smirked, squeezing the heart until it burst in her hand, splattering her cream-colored face with specks of blood. She hoped she had gotten Loki's attention with that act that most would deem highly unnecessary. If she hadn't, this certainly would-- she was almost positive. She clenched her fists and let out a chuckle as she felt herself growing, stretching. She felt cooler, and when she opened her eyes, her hair was raven-colored, her eyes as bright red as fire, and her skin pale ice blue. Not to mention, she grew eight inches.

Modi began to stalk towards him once more, her eyes glowing-- her expression etched into a seemingly permanent scowl. She looked murderous... she was murderous. Modi's sword still hung loosely at her side, and just as she about reached his cell door, she was grabbed by the arm, spun around, and her head was slammed into the wall next to the cell. She recovered quickly, of course, not as quickly as she would have liked.

Nevertheless, she would make short work of the foolish prisoner in front of her. Modi spat out blood that had gathered in her mouth, chuckling bitterly. "You shouldn't have done that." Without a second thought, and sparing punches here and there, some of which Modi actually got hit, the prisoner went to punch her in the face, and Modi managed to side-step and narrowly avoid it. She took this opportunity to grab his collar bone and squeeze it with all her strength, quickly shattering it within seconds.

The prisoner went to hit her with his other hand, and with her free hand, she easily caught it, and crushed it as such. Modi then kneed him in the gut, sending him flying forward, the prisoner hitting the screen of Loki's cell before falling down onto the ground, onto his face. Modi proceeded to grab the man by the neck, squeezing tightly before setting him on his feet. She released his throat momentarily, grabbing him by his long hair, and with her hand, forcing him onto his knees.

And then it was a sickening sort of ripping sound that followed, as Modi detached his head from his body, the headless corpse falling limply to the ground. Modi held the head by the hair with one hand, quickly typing in the cell code, entering it, and locking the pair in together. Modi gave the trickster a smirk, tossing the head at his feet.

"You're next."

Here you go! TBH I just wung this post, lmao. I don't really know how the dungeon cell system works, I just know what it looks like! *shrugs*

This post has been edited by MODI THORSDOTTIR: May 29 2018, 06:52 PM
 Posted: May 31 2018, 04:27 PM
online status
god of mischief
25 posts


In a strange way, Loki was actually quite relieved when he was faced with the source of the ruckus inside Asgard’s dungeons, after which, he quickly came under the intense glare of the Jotun that showed itself. It was due, in large part, to the combination of sheer boredom, and his own expectations.

Loki had been here almost six months now, with the odd visit from the All-Mother, and the books she brought with her to keep him occupied. Thor hadn’t visited, nor had Odin, but he hadn’t expected them to. They wouldn’t, and she shouldn’t, but she did all the same. With the exception of the first few weeks of his imprisonment, she’d done so, every day, without fail. Initially, it had been something to look forward to, but now, the time spent waiting for her next visit was proving difficult. Reading wasn’t enough, the trickster never thought the day would come when he would be forced to concede to that, he’d devoured so many of the books that filled the shelves of Asgard’s libraries, more than once. “Read it again. You might discover something you missed the last time” Frigga had instructed, and he did, he missed her, and it forced him to reflect.

And who entered his mind? Hela. Of all the people his thoughts lingered on, they lingered on her, she who he had not spared a thought for since her departure for Helheim and Niffleheim some nine centuries ago. She hadn’t been the only child of himself and Angrboda. Fenrir had been their first, and Jormungand their second, but Hela had hands. Or, at least, she had one hand, a little blue hand with little blue fingers. Sometimes, he’d found himself watching as she clenched and unclenched them, as they flailed about, sometimes in his direction. He didn’t watch for much longer beyond that point, he hadn’t seen much of her as a child, of any of them, his interests had been entirely wrapped up in Angrboda. But then, their mother died. She was killed, and he was to blame for that.

Fenrir was chained, Jormungand cast down into the seas of the middle world, and Hela herself brought to Asgard, in preparation for the kingdom she would one day preside over. He remembered her, and how pathetic she had been in those days, whingeing about one thing or another, be it the sun or the heat. She never left her chambers. She couldn’t have without assistance anyway. Hela couldn’t walk. She had lived most of her life before being carried around on Fenrir’s back, and it was sometime before Loki relented and offered to carry her too. Without her mother’s blue skin, and without her mother’s red eyes, he was startled to discover the raven tendrils, and emerald eyes so much like his own. She had his cheekbones, too. She didn’t talk, though, whether that was because of her upbringing in the Ironwood, or because of what happened to bring it to an abrupt end, he didn’t know.

But she did not like the blonde men, Hela thought them responsible for taking her mother, and her brothers away from her, and was drawn to him as a result. It wasn’t because he was her progenitor, not even because he was familiar, but because he didn’t look like them, because he didn’t feel like them. Of course, Loki was as cold to the touch as any Jotun. He didn’t know it then, but he knew it now. He was relieved the day she left, because as much as she did look like him, the older she got, the more he saw of Angie. He saw the shape of Angie’s mouth in her, the shape of her eyes, and when she left, she took that away with her. The reminders. Unfortunately, they had found him here, in his cell, and were starting to chip away at him. He knew what that felt like now, to lose someone, to lose his family, the very same way she had.

With the truth of his origins, Loki lost his position as a prince of Asgard, his place in the line of succession, and the very foundations of everything he strove for. But in that moment, what cut deeper than all of that, was the fact he lost his mother, and his brother. They weren’t his anymore. Odin had taken from him, what the trickster himself had taken from Hela.

Loki sat in the sill of his cage, and watched the prisoners as they flocked by. He watched, and he waited for the inevitable. ‘If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can’t find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain’ he remembered the Other’s words. How could he forget? The trickster knew it was only a matter of time before the Mad Titan made good on those words, and repaid him in kind for his failure. He had hoped that with his defeat, and imprisonment, he might put himself out of his reach a little longer, but not long enough. Needless to say, he was surprised when it emerged a Jotun had not only managed to gain access to Asgard’s dungeons, but release the prisoners as well. All, except him, and already, his mind was starting to work on the purpose behind that.

Vivid green eyes lazily watched her as he remained, seated within the window of his cell, while she grotesquely dispatched one of the prisoners, unnecessarily. Were it not already obvious she was here for him, that display all but confirmed it. It was a warning. Then, another was quickly removed, along with his head, but Loki did not flinch. He didn’t even blink. He’d spent a year with Thanos, and there was nothing in the nine realms that could compare with that. Even when she stepped inside his cell, and tossed the decapitated head at his feet, the trickster remained where he was, but he did do her the service of turning around where he sat so he was facing her. “The last time your kin entered the realm eternal, they required my guidance, the first, and the second time. I hope it goes better for you than it did for them. Tell me. To what do I owe the honour?” he asked, looking between her, and the head at his feet.

“Mimir…” Loki smirked as he remembered the story, “Has anyone ever told you about him? He was before your time, before mine, even. He died during the war between the Aesir and Vanir, was beheaded as a hostage, but his head remained animated, and gave Odin counsel long after his death. The God of Wisdom, that is what they call Odin, whether it was because he surrendered his eye to acquire that wisdom, or because Mimir furnished him with it, no one knows. But no one can debate it. Odin is, indeed, wise, and he thought it wise to lock me up here. Why? Because the last time someone came for my head, they were sorely disappointed with the results. The last time the Frost Giants entered this realm, they too were sorely disappointed with the results. Those that survived, anyway. Fancy your chances, do you, darling? I would very much benefit from some light entertainment. Do be gentle with me, though, it has been quite some time” he smirked up at her.

words: 1253. tagged: MODI THORSDOTTIR.
outfit: here! notes: nope!

there can be only one mikey!
of caution 2.0

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