Sherloki'd ✓completed

Out of the Prison Cell, into the Fire

Loki paced up and down his cell, virtually bored to death.

"Bored," he muttered to himself, "Very, very bored. I need something to do."

Since he'd returned to Asgard with Thor, his Chitauri army defeated, not much had happened. His daily visits to his father were straight-out dull, and even Frigga's visits were barely worth looking forward to. It was eerily quiet in Asgard's dungeons. 

The prison in Asgard was under minimum supervision, due to the "grand reopening" of the Bifrost. Thor's heroic smashing years before had destroyed the bridge, and it had taken ages to repair it. Not literally, although it could easily have taken literal ages too. Now that it had finally been restored to its original glory, many went to admire it.

Today was the perfect day for a break-out. If, you know, it was technically possible to break out of one of the most well-guarded places in the Nine Realms, which even on a day like this was still better guarded than the White House, the Pentagon and SHIELD combined.

Loki idly watched the shadow of a parading guard projected onto a wall. The guard walked back and forth rhythmically, pausing every third time to scan his surroundings. The guard himself was just out of Loki's line of sight, but his every movement was portrayed into his shadow as clearly as a 1080p HD video.

Another figure walked up to the guard, still just out of sight, but its shadow in perfect view. This new shadow was harder to distinguish, because its cloak hid its size and shape effectively.

"Who are you?" the guard demanded, pointing his spear at the newcomer, "identify yourself!"

There came no answer, only a swift strike of a sword, (which was presumably hidden under the cloak before) sending the spear flying off into the direction of Loki's cell. It skidded to a halt right in front of Loki, and if not for the walls of the cell he could have reached out to touch it.

"You?!" the guard exclaimed as the hood of the cloak fell down, but at that moment the figure overpowered him.

"Mpffff! Mphff mmmphffffal!!!"

Then the guard sank to the floor, and the shadow sheathed its sword, pulling up the hood to hide his face again.

It was eerily quiet, and it suddenly occurred to Loki that none of the other guards had reacted to the commotion.

"Hmpff," the shadow huffed, pushing the guard aside with one of his black boots, "you should've just gone to that festival like your friends, Verdiløs-en."

Loki's mind raced at top speed as he tried to place the voice, but failed to. It certainly didn't sound Asgardian, and if from any of the Nine Realms it had to be Midgardian. But how in Odin's name could a mortal make his way into Asgard, infiltrate the best-guarded prison in the Nine Realms and succeed to straight-out murder one of Asgard's top-guards?

Or even more importantly — how did someone from Midgard know Asgardian insults?

The figure strode into Loki's view, everything about his posture triumphant.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Loki Of Asgard, burdened with glorious purpose and what-not. How has your day been thusfar?"

"Quite dull," Loki replied casually, masking any surprise expertly as he analyzed every aspect of the voice, manner of speaking and posture, only to come to the conclusion that he was talking to a total stranger.

"Dull? No wonder, living in a cell such as this much be rather tedious. What would you say if I offered you a an opportunity to escape?"

"I'd ask your name," Loki replied.

The figure laughed, a soft laugh with a very specific accent that was definitely Midgardian.

Why is my knowledge of Midgard failing me now, of all times?

"I'm afraid my name is the one thing I can't give you," the voice smirked, "any last words, Jotun?"

Loki gave up masking his surprise seconds before his cell began to fill with a thick pale orange gas. The figure laughed, a deep laugh very different from the one Loki had heard from the figure before.

Loki backed away from the gas slowly, his mind working at top speed to figure out his best method of escape.

"There's no way out, Loki," the soft Irish voice mocked, "what kind of name is that anyway? Gosh, you Asgardians have the most ridiculous names. I mean honestly; Sif? Loki? Thor? Even Sherlock's name is less weird than that."

A deep growl stopped the voice there.

"Keep your hat on, mystery man," the owner of the light voice was probably rolling his eyes, and Loki realized that as this person had two distinctly different laughs, it was probably two different people. One played the voice, one was the person. The combination of the two didn't exist in one person, so it would be impossible to trace back to anyone in particular...

He didn't have time for further deductions, because at that moment the orange gas reached him, and he passed out within moments.