Loki God of Mischief

The god used to spend his time in Asgard, feeling unwanted.He'd waste his time practicing petty spells, while his brother Thorwas praised for merely being stronger and more king-like.Though he'd Frigga, who indeed cared for the boy,he longed for the attention of others, and for the feeling of being integral. He needed to escape, so he set off to Midgard.He'd only been to Midgard once before, with Odin.When he'd set his feet on the damp cobblestones in London, he began to notice the difference.It was that moment when he decided he knew this was where everything would change.He wasn't brushed off but instead, welcomed.The men tipped their hats, and the women smiled softly, an inkling of blush on their cheeks, as they giggled giddily. The heavy feeling he bore in Asgard had suddenly washed away.He felt important for the first time in his life.As he looked around, his vision stopped on a small red-bricked building seeminglyhidden among the rest. Inside was a stage, not unlike those back home, and a man stood alone speaking to the room.Everyone was watching this man, and their ooh's and ahh's scattered the room.In his hand was a dove, a handkerchief in the other. Loki took a seat and watched the man, now intrigued. The man offered a small smile, and with a flick of the wrist, the bird was gone."This is it!" Loki thought. The former god was not someone to renege a promise to himself, so he did. The feeling he felt when he was on stage was exhilarating.He had a rush of joy every time they'd watch him in wonder. He felt himself grinning anytime a child would lean closer as if they'd be able to figure out the simple trickFor the first time ever, Loki felt wanted. 


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