Really, he shouldn't be here at all right now, standing here, hands in his pockets, a weapon in his holster under his coat, being a problem. If Loki managed to get his card reader, his gun, anything, he'd be in for some major shit.

But here he was, looking at the God as he stood, asking about his fate. He had no news for him. They were still talking. Thor's worries about taking him back home and what Odin might do. Other worries about what the people of Midgard would do. Not to mention those who didn't want him around at all.

"What do you want your fate to be? Where do you want to go, Loki? If given the choice, what would you do?"