"Not so hard, dammit!"
"Shut up..."
The large-nosed man, with hair that had been buzzed short, is tossed into the cell. He rolls with the momentum, before gazing up at his captor. Running to the bars, he grips them with all his strength.
"C'mon! I was only following orders! I'm just like ya, just different sides of the spectrum! Surely ya understand, right?"
The man's pleas reach nowhere.
This is evident by his captor's seeming negligence towards his plight. Said captor had already turned on his heel, heading towards the large golden door at the end of the hallway.
The captor turns his head around. A man, seemingly in his late fifties, makes up the identity of the 'captor'. His beard is a considerable length, as well as the long hair that mimics the same length, albeit growing out of his head.
Surprisingly—despite at his age—the man possesses a full head of hair, no signs of pattern baldness present. A scar runs down his left eye, which seems to be partially useless, evident by the white coloration.
His frame is enormous, possibly reaching eight feet in height or two hundred fifty-three centimeters. His shoulders are broad as well, eclipsing his head. Possibly accentuating his frame is an even larger assemblage of armor and cloth adorning his form.
A large black and yellow robe flows behind him, seemingly hanging off his shoulders. Golden armor pieces, each lined with the insignia of the Forctyr carved onto them, encompass the 'weak points' of his body.
Belts, each equipped with various utility and small knives, are lined around his waist area.
Perhaps the largest, and most recognizable aspect of the man's body is the large broadsword resting on a sheathed that had been hung around his shoulders. No, it was too large to be called a sword, more like a slab of iron.
"You should have known what you were stepping into, evildoer." He smirks.
"Welcome to Asgard."
____________________________________________________________________________
The robed man walks down the hallway, the sounds of his equipment clinking against each other. He blows his lips, a frequent habit of his, as he turns a corner.
The grand hall he walks in is adorned with gold tapestries hanging from above, as well as black staircases that spiral upwards, seemingly neverending. A black and gold carpet covers a majority of the area as well, playing into the set theme here.
The theme of the Forctyr, Asgards in-city defense force.
The man raises his feet in order to trail up the stairs leading up. His body sways with every movement he makes as his shadow, cast by the light from a nearby window, mirrors his body.
"This the fourth one this week…" He mutters to himself, walking past a Forctyr officer. Said officer contains the black and gold colors, yet his outfit is less distinguished as his superior. Another key difference lies in the fact that the officer is equipped with a steel helmet, obscuring his face from view.
The man turns a corner once again, revealing a hallway that leads onto a set of large, imposing golden doors.
He raises his right arm.
"Mjölnir."
Mjölnir lowers his hand.
"Wow, Loki himself has addressed me by my name. Shouldn't you be somewhere off in Midgard, planning to take over Asgard as you always do?"
Mjölnir does not turn around.
The light from a nearby lantern flickers for a moment. Once the light returns, a figure's form suddenly appears in the very corner of the room, still not being visible. The only thing that can be made of the figures form is an entourage of golden chains that hang around its large cloak.
Two large horns jut out from the silhouette, seemingly spiraling towards the roof.
Loki, the youngest son of Odin, Hero of Mischief.
Typically, the word hero is associated with a good doer. But in the world, a hero is a title given to one who had either been born of a Celestial, or bestowed a gift. Loki, son of Odin, had been given such a title.
"Mjölnir. A man who had served in the Forctyr since the age of twenty-two. Said to be the secret right hand man of Thor himself. You must have surely seen your fair share of war. I'd say it's nearly the same amount of times I've seen a cloud in the sky."
Mjölnir twitches.
"War that you had caused. Simply because you were jealous of your brother's status above you."
"..."
"What, no rebuttal? No anger that I had pointed out your insecurities?"
"Our Civil war's ended, Mjölnir. It's time for me to return to my post as a son of Odin."
"You constantly stressed your father out with your incessant tantrums, and only now when he is ill, you decide to assist him?"
"First time for everything."
Mjolnir sighs.
"It's no matter. What's important now is that you've decided to assist the greater kingdom. It won't magically dispel the suffering of those that lost their lives, but at least it'll dispel the suffering of those that currently live."
He turns, and crosses his arms.
"So, what is it, trickster? Why are you in the base of your present, no, past enemy?"
Loki remains in his shade.
"Lately, the amount of assailants outside the city has increased tenfold."
"Yes, I think that is common knowledge."
"Old fart, let me recap for the audience's sake."
"What?"
Loki raises a finger.
"Anyway, the amount has increased to the point where the amount of defense within the city is becoming inefficient, that much is known. Not to mention, the strange disappearances already occurring within the city, soo…"
"Yes. A few of my men have gotten missing as well. The public is unaware of such a thing, given that a bulk of the disappearances have been Forctyr officers, which had their disappearances covered up by the agency."
"Yeah, yeah, nobody cares about that." Loki dismissively waves a hand. "The point I'm trying to make is that I can replace those missing men with my own branch of Forctyr."
"Do not disrespect my men, Loki."
"That isn't the point here! Seriously, what is up with old men and staying on the first subject you bring up when it's supposed to segue way into the next point?! Move on already! I'm in a rush here!"
"...Continue."
"Sheesh. Alright, so I've got some of my own men moving into this base. They're all (mostly) cooperative, so I'm sure you guys'll get along. Their leader is a guy named Axel Freud. Tall fella, white hair, red eyes. Handsome guy. I'd tell you more about him, but I've got hero business to deal with."
"Hey! I saw you flinch at the word hero!"
"No, I flinched at the word business."
"Who do you think I am?!"
"A liar, a cheat, a murder, a psychopath, an annoyance, a parasite…"
"Who don't you think I am?!"
Loki rubs the space that would normally comprise his face.
"Look, old man. I know you're the 'tired old guy in a dangerous job' archetype, but you've got to open your mind sometimes. I can tell you're a bit untrustful of my oncoming men, not to mention me, but I'm sure you'd get along with them. They're going to help you out!"
Mjölnir leans against the wall.
"Forctyr's decisions and policies are usually made by Thor himself. I haven't heard a single thing about—"
A crumpled paper is tossed at Mjolnir. It is clearly aimed at his face, however he manages to catch it in time.
"Don't throw things at your elders! Nepo baby brat!"
"Sorry."
Mjolnir sighs, uncrumpling the paper. His eyes skim through, shifting from side to side as he observes the contents within. A few moments pass as he reads.
Once done, he lowers the paper.
"I see. You weren't lying about returning to Asgard."
"C'mon! Would I ever lie?"
"..."
"..."
"One question, Loki."
"Hm?"
"What does a trickster Hero even do? I understand Thor, who protects Asgard. Frigg, who deals with intermarriage conflicts between citizens and organizes events that promote friendship of the like. Ullr, who manages weapons trade, and produce within the city. And Vali, who commands Asgard's defensive force outside the walls."
Mjolnir points at Loki.
"What about you? You just destroy, and joke around like it's normal."
Mjolnir waits, expecting a response.
Loki is already gone.
____________________________________________________________________________
"Axel Freud? You sure it's really him?" The ginger haired girl asks as she leans back in her chair. A dart is within her hand, and she is tossing it up and down.
"I-I don't know about this, A-Anna…"
"Relax! It'll be fine! This'll train your nerves, Freya."
A younger girl, no older than seventeen, stands in front of Anna. Her hair is curly, yet long, reflecting her timid nature. Her facial expression betrays the imposing outfit of the Forctyr on her.
"Anna, I don't think that you doing target practice will result in anything good." A smooth, yet firm voice says.
It belongs to an androgynous seeming man, his black hair long and flowing. His eyes are covered by a white blindfold, obviously obscuring his vision. Perhaps the most peculiar aspect of his body are the long ears that extend farther than a typical sapients.
"Relax, Scout."
"And, go!"
The dart is launched.
"—Eep!"
Unable to handle the pressure of balancing a target on her head, Freya moves to the side. A mistake that surely resulted in something disastrous soon occurring.
"Ngh!" A burly voice yells. "Who the fuck did that?!"
A large man, a fellow Forctyr officer, with a frame capable of utterly eclipsing Freya arises from his seat. Yes, it seemed that the dart had found its target, which consisted of his bottom area. This was quite unfortunate for the trio.
"Scout! I told you not to play with darts!" Anna suddenly blurts out, spinning towards the person in question.
The large man stomps towards the trio.
"Hah?!" Scout exclaims. "What did I do?!"
Anna steps in front of her companion, a nervous smile present on her face.
"Hah… please forgive my friend, he's…"
She leans in, cupping her hand over the side of her mouth.
"Blind…"
The large man raises an eyebrow. His eyes shift towards Scout, who looks around, confused. Sensing that causing a large scene would result in unwanted attention, the man sighs, turns around, and sits down.
Anna spins on her heel, and extends a thumb up.
"See, it's all good!"
Scout and Freya both sigh.
____________________________________________________________________________
"I still can't believe our branch is receiving new guys after all this time…" Anna comments, her head resting on her hands as the trio travel down the hallway.
Scout nods.
"That is true. The latest recruit we received was Freya."
The girl shudders at the mention of her name.
"Speaking of, how'd you even get in the Forctyr, Freya? You're so timid, I think you'll sometimes melt from too much attention."
"C-Calling me timid is so rude! I'm not like that of the sort! You guys just think I am, but anyone else would react the same way I do! If not, then worse!"
"Freya…" Anna says ominously, her face being obscured by a strange shadow.
"W-What? I was just telling the truth…"
"You're so cute!!"
Anna lunges onto Freya, barraging her with a frenzy of rubs. Each one is aimed at the top of her hair, with enough force to start a small fire. Anna squeals with each rub as well, accentuation Freya's embarrassment.
"By the way… Anna, who is Axel?"
Anna stops her assault.
Her eyes gaze down at the floor for a moment, as if contemplating the weight of that question. For others, it would seem as something small, even useless. But for her, such a question held an insurmountable amount of weight behind it.
"Someone…"
"That Anna has a crush on!"
A loud voice interrupts.
"Litwich!!"
The man dances behind her, laughing to himself as he witnesses the clear distress of his companion.
His orange hair seemingly defies gravity, spiking in every which way. He wears the outfit of the Forctyr, with a large blade hanging off his back.
"What? I was just pointing out the obvious! Yer clearly into him, since you got all sentimental when Scout asked!"
Litwich laughs.
Anna sighs.
"What is that you like about him anyway? I've never known you to be the 'maiden in love' type." Litwich asks, crossing his arms.
"I'm not in love with him. He's just… helped me out a great deal in the past." She mutters, looking away.
The rest of her companions seemed confused and surprised at Anna's demanour. Typically, this girl would have nothing to do with romance, or things of the like. This is partly due to the fact that within her first day of joining, Anna had been asked out by a substantial amount of men.
She rejected all of them, claiming that she focused on her job, and nothing else.
"Oi, freckles. Yer blushing."
"I am?!"
"No."
"Seriously, stop it, Litwich!"
_________________________________________________________________________
"I wonder how this Axel guy is." Freya mutters towards Scout.
The group waits in front of the door leading to the central meeting room of Forctyr, awaiting the command to enter. They talk amongst each other, questioning who Axel Freud is.
"By the way, Anna, what're you doing after this meeting…?" Litwich asks.
"Well, I have security duty inside a school until night." She groans as she stretches her back. "It's so boring honestly, but I get to mess with kids, so I guess it's all right."
"That second sentence should not be spoken by an officer!" Scout retorts.
"Wait, for Bjorn Academy?" Litwich adds.
"Yep!" Anna confirms.
"What, that's crazy! I'm heading 'ere too! I've got security duty until midnight, though.."
"Oh, that's cool." Anna says, gazing at the ceiling. "How long are we going to wait for..?"
Attempting to steer the conversation back, Litwich asks; "Do ya wanna… go for drinks or something during our breaks?"
Scout and Freya momentarily break their conversation, and give a powerful sideye to the two.
"Huh, but you've got a longer shift than mine. I don't think our breaks overlap."
"I-I'm totally fine with taking my break earlier!"
"Oh, okay then."
"S-So it's decided then! We'll take our break at daybreak. I've already got a place to go for."
Litwich's face had been shifting to a bright pink hue. He laughs as he scratches the back of his head.
"What are you imbeciles doing here?"
A collective sigh rises amongst the group.
"Hello Karl…" They all say in unison.
"How quaint. You all know how to greet me properly." Karl says.
His stature is thin, albeit tall. His black hair resembles that of a circle shape, neatly combed down with gel. His eyes are sharp, akin to that of a snake, while his skin is nearly pale.
"I think it is quite begotten of your stature, Karl." A second voice chimes in, more highpitched. It belongs to a smaller woman, clinging onto Karl's arm.
Her beige hair is short, yet long enough to reach her neck. Two large earrings hang off the sides of her head, the same color as her brown eyes. Her skin differs greatly from Karl, being darker in coloration.
"Thank you, Carlotta. You are the only one here that could possibly understand the potential that lingers within me." He says, lifting the girl's chin up with a single finger.
"Yes, I am unlike the others!"
The two last members of this Forctyr branch's team. Carlotta Norchwich, and Karl Norchwich.
Yes, cousins. Distant ones, yet cousins all the same. Despite this very fact, the two seem absolutely infatuated with each other. The reason for this is still unknown.
Interaction with Karl would always result in him going on an awkward tangent that pertained to him having limitless potential due to his Thaumite function being quite powerful. He would then flick his hair at the end, and walk away.
Because of this, the other four remained silent, only watching the two rub against each other.
"Seriously, when are we going to get called in…"
The door behind the group launches backward.
"!?"
"Chief Mjolnir!"
The group all say, saluting in the process. Their statures, despite being vastly different, all assume the same rigid pose. This was the key behind Forctyr.
"At ease." The chief orders.
The rigid pose formed moments ago is now dispatched of.
"You all probably know about the transferring Officer from a separate branch. A branch that serves under Loki."
At the mention of Loki, a collective flinch is preformed from the present members. The Trickster hero's name always held a visceral reaction, especially in Asgard.
"Look. I know we've had our differences in the past. Enormous differences. But if we want to get rid of the problems plaguing our city, we need all the help we can get. Personally, I don't even consider these guys Forctyr too, but alas, we need to compromise. So please, treat him as you would any other officer."
Mjolnir walks to the left.
"By the way, it's only one person. We initially received word that it was only going to a few individuals, but they were attacked, resulting in only one surviving."
He extends his arm.
"All right everyone, welcome Alex Freud to the Commercial District's Forctyr branch."
The chief walks over in the direction of the group, allowing them to perceive the contents of the room in front. The room itself was nothing new. A large, grand chandelier hung over from the top, flags of the Forctyr hanging off of it.
White chairs, all circling around a round table with a ruby centerpiece in the middle.
What was new was the sole person sitting within.
A young man, no older than eighteen years old. His eyes were a deep scarlet, bordering marron. His hair, white and silky, trailed over his eyes, nearly obscuring them. The hair itself was not particularly neatly arranged, instead being on the more unkempt side.
He was indeed handsome, that much could be said. While his white hair gave a slightly feminine tinge to his facial structure, his face was masculine. In fact, he seemed marginally older, perhaps twenties.
An awkward wave is given by him.
"Hello… everyone…"
____________________________________________________________________________
All right, before I give any explanation to why I'm in the Forctyr's meeting room can I just ask:
Why is that ginger haired girl staring at me?
And why is that Ichigo-adjacent guy staring at her?!
Now me?! What did I do?