Feel Something

Chapter 10: 'Til All My Scars Bleed Golden

The audience observing Loki's combat assessment boasted every person of note he had met thus far in his time on Midgard, save for Director Fury who had left directly from Albuquerque to attend to some other more pressing matters.

The gymnasium was broad and empty save for a wall of mirrors on one end, an equipment rack on the other, and a square of red mats that stretched across much of the floor in the center. Standing around the border of the padded area were Agents Hill and Coulson, Dr. Myers, Jane, Darcy, and a dozen more agents decked out in either white lab coats or the all-black combat gear Loki himself had changed into for the duration of his "assessment."

Loki's outfit consisted of form-fitting black pants, a long-sleeved black shirt, simple black boots not unlike his own Asgardian pair, and leather armored vest that Loki expected was less likely to protect him than his own Aesir skin was. He pondered for a moment whether his durability had been lost along with his power and immortality, deciding he would have to run some experiments of his own later.

As he stepped into the center of the room to await instruction, Loki watched Darcy undress him with her eyes. The tight uniform didn't leave much to the imagination, and when she at last reached the level of his gaze and took in his scornful glare, she simply fanned her face with her hand in mock flirtation, earning the smirk he knew she enjoyed drawing from him with regularity.

The initial testing was rather dull, consisting of basic exercises and running. Each time, Coulson called the test to a close before Loki had even broken a sweat. After he was asked to run 5 kilometers on the "treadmill" and did so in under ten minutes, every eye was trained on him with interest and conversation died out entirely.

"I believe that will do for our...preliminary tests, doctor?" Coulson asked Dr. Myers, who was staring at Loki in stunned silence.

"Hm? Oh. Yes. I believe we have what we need, thank you Mr. Loki. Coulson." With a nod, Myers and her staff exited the room in a chorus of excited muttering.

Left with only his companions and the SHIELD agents, Loki knew it was time for the real fun to begin.

Coulson nodded to Agent Hill, who stepped forward and gestured to the equipment rack, "Please select your preferred weapon for one-on-one combat, Agent. We will now begin our field readiness assessment."

Loki couldn't help a slightly-unhinged grin as he moved over to the rack. Selecting a pair of staves—not so elegant as his daggers, but they would do—Loki returned to the center of the room, twirling his new acquisitions with somewhat excessive flourish, "Now who will be my adversary, Agent Hill? I vow not to leave them unduly injured."

Unimpressed, Hill gestured for two agents to step forward, "Since you seem so confident, why not make it extra challenging? Evans and Rumlow will be your opponents. Your goal is to simply disarm or otherwise compromise your opponents."

"Ah, so I am to go easy, then? Pity. It's much more fun when real stakes are involved," Loki bantered, sizing up his competition. Rumlow was a large specimen of a mortal, reminding Loki a great deal of Thor. And he had plenty of experience fighting Thor. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, he mused. Evans, on the other hand, was a woman. While not as muscular as Sif, she certainly was not frail by any stretch of the imagination. A warrior in her own right, and Loki would battle her with the same respect he always showed Sif—and no small amount of trickery, of course.

While Evans selected another set of staves, Rumlow chose a long quarterstaff instead. When Hill called for the fight to begin, the pair of agents circled Loki, who still stood casually at the center of the room, flipping his staves and not so much as glancing at the mortals attempting to cage him in.