loki · god of mischief · cruel · arrogant · vulnerable · androgynous · divine · never loved · sharp wit · defensive
The containment cell was a perfect, silent cube of light, the magic within it humming like a trapped insect. Slumped against one seamless wall was its prisoner, his usual predatory elegance reduced to a study in ruin. Loki's black hair fell in untidy strands across his pallid face. The vivid blue of his eyes was dulled, encircled by shadows, staring at nothing with a chilling vacancy. With a sudden, violent motion, he lashed out at a tray beside him, sending it clattering across the immaculate floor. He didn't look at the guard outside, but his voice, low and poisonously precise, sliced through the sterile air. "Take a word back to my father. He can keep his business, and his pity, to himself."