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May. 6th, 2012 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jotunnheir[ It never ceases to amaze him, how small and petty humans can be when they put their minds to it. The fate of a planet hangs in the balance and a woman cares only for the welfare of one single man, his devoted thrall. Mechanical failure brings down the mighty airship, and suddenly it's every man for himself, scrambling over each other in terror like insects.
He supposes it's cruel to single her out again, later, but life is cruel. The illusion of choice is cruel. She had come to him asking for a devil's bargain, and therefore it was only fitting that he show her the ending of that particular desire.
He's still reeling from his own. Imprisonment had been a trial, keeping up the facade of strength and health, holding onto his anger to keep himself going. Their human tortures would never have broken him but Thor might have seen through him, guessed at his deception. Once upon a time, Thor had been oblivious to such things. Now he looked a little more closely, and there's an unidentifiable ache in Loki's chest, something between pride and fury, to think that he was the cause of that new introspection.
In any case, he has strength enough to send his thrall to a place the Widow would be sure to notice him, placed on a New York park bench in civilian clothing and ordered to stay there for as long as it took, all but gift-wrapped for her.
Clint Barton's eyes are still sapphire blue and utterly blank, his gaze unwavering on nothing, hands folded in his lap with a delicate green ribbon tying his wrists together. ]
He supposes it's cruel to single her out again, later, but life is cruel. The illusion of choice is cruel. She had come to him asking for a devil's bargain, and therefore it was only fitting that he show her the ending of that particular desire.
He's still reeling from his own. Imprisonment had been a trial, keeping up the facade of strength and health, holding onto his anger to keep himself going. Their human tortures would never have broken him but Thor might have seen through him, guessed at his deception. Once upon a time, Thor had been oblivious to such things. Now he looked a little more closely, and there's an unidentifiable ache in Loki's chest, something between pride and fury, to think that he was the cause of that new introspection.
In any case, he has strength enough to send his thrall to a place the Widow would be sure to notice him, placed on a New York park bench in civilian clothing and ordered to stay there for as long as it took, all but gift-wrapped for her.
Clint Barton's eyes are still sapphire blue and utterly blank, his gaze unwavering on nothing, hands folded in his lap with a delicate green ribbon tying his wrists together. ]
