"You know how I feel." Asbjorn didn't look at her right away, instead deciding to stare out at the expansive nothingness that he cared to view, his sunglasses firmly on his face. A sigh escaped his lips before looking down in annoyance, and turning to Astro. Once again, she looked like a dead woman walking, the only evidence that she had any life being the fact that she was still breathing and spoke.
"I'm wasting my time here, and I'm still miffed about how dad thought it would be a good idea to spy on my conversation with Orfelina. I might have done the same if I were him, but... like really..." He scrunched his face up in annoyance before letting it settle back down again as he turned back to look at whatever was out there. Yeah, his eyes were unfocused and uncaring about his surroundings, but he had felt that his mind was becoming dull from the lack of actual events going on; it was in this wake that Asbjorn decided to just spill and rant, because why not. "I fucked up, and this was way too drastic; there, I said it. Neither of us are needed here, and I to be honest I don't give two shits about what goes on within this house. Whatever goes on in there, I don't deal with: my job is to fix the problems, not prevent them." A huff escaped him. "I would rather be protecting Loki, which actually concerns me, than be here. At least I can punch him if I'm in the mood: right now, I'm more like a glorified babysitter, and it's pissing me off."
He turned back to Astro, letting his steam slowly seep out of his body until he returned back to his normal composure. "But that's just me rambling. Before you ask, I'm restricted to this state and all information within: I can't find out anything about Loki, no more than you can." He looked at his sister, hoping to get something, anything out of her, before finishing off. "I feel useless here, Astro: I can't work. I'm only allowed to converse with others about trivial things; no serious conversations, no questioning dad's motives, nothing." He spoke as if that was what pissed him off most. "With my luck, dad caught that on camera. How are you holding up?"
Again, back to the middle of god-forsaken nowhere
Another day felt as if it had gone by since Loki had last paid attention to the noises outside, when really it had only been a few minutes. Or was it hours? There were no mechanisms to tell Midgardian time within the walls of his cell, which made things difficult. The only indication of time was the intervals in which he was given food and forced to sleep. If he recalled correctly, he had been given food a while ago, which was his second meal: was it the afternoon? Perhaps. Then again, what good would knowing the time of day, when it mattered not to a god stuck within four walls and a roof?
Loki opened his eyes finally, after musing for a while, to stare at the ceiling. He had been in a horizontal position in the centre of the room since he had finished his meagre meal, his shimmering eyes deciding to close to hopefully pass the time. Instead, his thoughts had drifted to corners of his mind that he had not expected: such as the length of his duration, the wellbeing of Miss Fury, and what exactly was going on in such a remote place that would require his confinement. He should be plotting an escape, seeing as it would be fairly simple; security cameras and personal could be manipulated, yet he had felt no motivation to do so. The reasoning for his lack of motivation escaped him.
It was then that his ears began to pick up faint sounds of speech. Normally he did not bother decrypting it, as he found it to be menial and dull to the ears. Yet the feminine voice that seemed to be closing in on his cell was different than the rest, and the mystery intrigued Loki: who would bother getting this close to him? Were they coming to visit, perhaps? He found it odd that seeing another would bring comfort, but it was most likely the solitary confinement that was beginning to addle his brain.
The distinct sound of a body crumbling truly piqued his interests, but he continued to stare at the ceiling as the familiar pitch of the doors opening, with a familiar voice ringing through. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki finally saw who his interrogator for the day was: Orfelina, the one that Master Fury had been with constantly, the apparent relative of that brute that destroyed that one quaint restaurant. Her speech was either made to be a cruel joke, or an annoying pun, to which Loki cared neither for.
"Ah, Miss Orfelina, do come in. I'm afraid the accommodations may not befit you, but it is the best a captive can do." Loki raised a leg over the other, turning his head to face her slightly. "Tell me, how is dear Asbjorn? While I may not remember him fondly, I'm quite certain that you do." Loki looked at the cameras that were shutting down in his cell with a raised eyebrow. "Well, it seems that this will not be a documented interview, now will it? What would have you in such a conundrum to come all this way to talk to me without the watchful eyes of your Director, hm?"