Madness of the Serpent

Education Pt. II

Loki watched the celestial being he had created from the power of the two cosmic artifacts, fascinated by simply observing her as she attended to the documentaries he had provided. Even after concentrating his focus on her for over two hours, he found her to be an interesting subject.

At rest, she was unlike most other mortals (or even Asgardians) he knew – she did not move. She did not fidget, or shift her weight, or yawn, or express any other involuntary signals that most exhibit when they begin to grow restless. She simply remained still as a statue, her body posture semi-rigid in the confines of the seat.

The only thing that ever changed was her eyes. The dark orbs sometimes moved, and her eyebrows would imperceptibly shift at times, leaving the god to wonder what was going through her mysterious mind. Loki could have forced his way into her thoughts, as he had done with the scientist that had once been a friend to Thor, but that would not have been nearly as entertaining as coercing her into revealing her thoughts of her own volition.

But as with most things, Loki eventually grew bored, his attention span having suffered along with other qualities of his mind from the exertion of his efforts. He had yet to sleep, and it had been three full days since he had breached the planet in order to seize it for his own.

Normally this would not be an issue, as he had gone for days without rest in the past, but he could not recall when he had slept last – before Loki had been given the sceptre and stepped foot on this miserable rock. He had been so eager to traverse the portal and claim the Earth as his own, that sleep had seemed a triviality compared to what was to come.

Loki could feel his body beginning to suffer for this lax care. His joints creaked and his bones ached, but he could not rest. Not yet. There was one issue left to address before his first presentation to Midgard as their new King.

Casting a long glance at the stock-still woman whose eyes continued to remain fixed on the glowing screen, the god stretched out his sore muscles and rose to his feet. Trinity did not look up or take note of his movements, and he estimated that she would be too enthralled with the mortal narratives to endanger herself again. Loki had made sure this time, enchanting every airlock so she could not plummet to her death – not that he believed she was that desperate to escape him.

The god confidently strode to the front of the aircraft, pulling the latch and opening the narrow door that separated the cockpit from the rest of the aircraft.

Agent Barton was at the helm, his focus remaining on the control console as Loki shut the door behind him. Without a word, the god took a seat next to the mortal, his weary body finally quieting its various complaints as he settled into the plush seat.

Loki was beginning to realize how much mortals desired soft objects to rest and recline on – no doubt because they were such a soft people that avoided discomfort and conflict whenever they could. A species that fragile would be almost insultingly easy to conquer.

"I must admit, I am pleasantly surprised by your piloting skills, Barton," Loki said evenly, watching the human as he guided the aircraft towards their final destination.

"Thank you, sir," the assassin replied, his glittering azure eyes remaining fixed either on the instruments or simply out into the clear blue atmosphere, the ocean almost too far below to perceive.

"You have also done well in regards to the film recommendations you made for Trinity's... education."

"Thank you, sir," Barton repeated, almost robotically, and the god was disappointed that the resistance he had shown earlier had apparently been snuffed out.