one may call it a bit of a dĂ©jĂ -vu. big glass cage, mediocre manacles clicked around his wrist, chained to his waist              indeed the past, what, TWO YEARS of his life had been reasonably pleasant in regards to that. nobody, at least had imprisoned him. and now heâs back here. returned from the dead, once more caught in a cell, once more on Midgard. once more by SHIELD, or whatever is LEFT of it, and once more entirely on his own volition. only this time there is no grander scheme behind all of this. it is a mere gesture of courtesy until the alleged good guys have figured out whether to trust him or not. now, Loki still cannot see the future, but judging from the icy glare of the Agent jotting whatever down into her tablet, his chances perhaps arenât too GOOD that trust may come soon.
    âyou do know that these are completely pointless, right?â he lifts the chained wrists; a thick iron between them, but lacking whatever would keep a God of tricks and mischief truly BOUND. âas is this entire             construction. frankly, I would be more tempted to actually stay put in a nice hotel room. something with a view at least.â for once, that even is no lie. prisons are dull. and they trigger an urge to MISBEHAVE in him. âI would ask you to talk to the Director about that, but from what I heard he too went poof,â a nonchalant little exploding motion with his tied up hands. âwhat do you say when that happens? my CONDOLENCES?â