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Loki always planned for the Alligators to invade Throg’s coronation. It was his only way to get to the throne. His brother’s jumps were higher, webbed feet more muscular, and his ribbits had a much bolder tone. Loki’s efforts were never noticed by the All-Frogther. Demonstrating arrogance through his bloodthirsty actions was the only way.
But as he, Sif, and the Warrior’s Three left Aspond for the swamps of Jotunwater and entered battle, Loki felt a strange presence in the atmosphere.
His peculiar suspicions were answered when the hand of an Alligator grabbed one of his tony limbs. His bright green skin should have burned against the scaly texture of his enemy. Instead, his skin transformed into that of the very creature standing before him. Both looked in shock at his body changed. Loki could feel his arms become longer and heavier, his stomach expanding as his mouth grew a snout.
Before his midsection grew it’s scales, his webbed feet held a knife created by magic, and stabbed the Alligator through its skull.
As the colorless blood of his former opponent left its body, Loki stared at his limb, growing thinner and returning to its lime green hue. He was left wondering if he bled the same way.
His answers could only be found with the Casket of Ancient Gators.
Loki hopped his way to the most powerful room in all of Aspond. He passed many mighty objects; the weapons that held the forces of many gods did not catch his eye. The sight of his bulging, red eyes was directed toward the casket, placed atop a lengthy stool leaning against a golden wall.
He jumped into the stool, the flows of blue reflecting onto his body. With a shaky foot, he reached for the handles of the casket and picked it up. Immediately, he could feel the transformation. Scales growing one at a time, the green on his skin becoming darker, almost moss-like. His insides were changing, teeth coming through his gums -- he could feel the sharpness of each one. His body almost jumped from shock when he felt a tail grow, but a voice stopped him.
“RIBBIT” (Stop!) yelled Odin from behind.
Loki scowled and placed down the casket. He moved his mouth to speak, and was surprised (and scared) to be met with a sound other than that of a ribbit.
“Grrrrr grrrr?” (Am I cursed?) he growled.
“Rib, ribbit,” (No, you are my son) responded the All-Frogther, shakiness filling his usually commanding voice.
Such lies. His Frogther-- no, Odin was not his Frogther. He only pretended, and failed, to copy the behavior of one.
Loki finally saw his reflection, almost snarling in disgust at the sight of the creature he truly was. His eyes were black, emotionless voids. He looked angrier, though he had a perfectly fine reason to be.
“Grrr- ribbit,” (What more than that?) he judgingly asked Odin, turning to face him so he could see all the lies he tried to cover for so very long.
After a sigh, Odin explained everything. Every painful, eye-awakening detail.
He was an Alligator disguised as a Frog. His ‘parents’ planned to raise him as one, as an equal to Thor, but in terms of attention and encouragement, they failed horribly.
Even with all the anger, Loki became worried for Odin once he fainted. The All-Sleep, which he had attempted to prolong, had finally consumed him. He tried to hide the sorrow in his eyes as guards entered the room, lifting up the All-Frogther and hopping him to the nearest theater. Even with the unexpected sympathy he had toward Odin’s condition, the anger within remained. He exited out of the room and jumped along outside.
He could lash out with his magic, but that was for his smaller, less reasonable bouts of anger. This wrath, built up over the years and finally collapsing tonight. He needed something new.
Loki felt the magic within him, shaping into something new, unfamiliar. His eyes widened more than he possibly thought. Could he transform into his Gator self?
With a short breath, he let magic consume his body. He thought transforming into a completely different animal would be painful, but it felt as if a wave was passing through him. It was the most calm he felt in centuries.
He took his first breath with his snout, and his tail perked up upon smelling a nearby cat. His thick, tiny limbs slowly moved forward. He squinted his eyes, seeing an orange cat as he approached further. A sudden blood lust overcame all of his temptations, and when he was close enough, his large snout opening, hot saliva dripping down his teeth.
His mouth closed swiftly as the tortured wail of a cat entered the air.
Before he could process what had transpired, an orange, almost transparent door appeared out of nowhere. Heavily armored humanoids arrived out of it, each scanning the area for something. Loki could have gagged at the sight of them; it was disgusting, how heavily with weak skin the humanoids were. One of them was somehow more pathetic, as he was glancing at every angle of his environment with heavy anxiety.
Loki shifted his gaze and was met with a cold stare.
“Variant spotted. Will be hostile no matter what we do. B-04, prepare the collar.”
Collar? Were these weaklings about to put a collar on him, a prince? He wouldn’t allow that.
As the newbie made nervous strides to him, Loki ran up to him and bit off his hand. The man screamed with pure pain. His other hand waved wildly. Before he could see the other object in his hand, the man hit Loki with a baton, bright sparkles at its edge, and his body felt as if it was disappearing.
He didn’t know how long he was out for. His sight was groggy as he blinked like he had slept for eons. He stretched his tail and limbs, making sure that his body was still functioning.
“Woah!” yelled a young voice from the distance. “It’s still alive.”
As his eyesight adjusted to his new surroundings -- all of it being destroyed buildings and an abandoned atmosphere -- he saw a humanoid child, perhaps a pre-teen, running toward him.
“Why would the TVA prune an alligator?” the child questioned.
Loki looked up, seeing the child wearing a green, heavily embellished outfit with a horned headpiece. It reminded him of his own attire. It was as if this kid was an alternate version of himself.
The kid knelt and leaned forward, studying him. Something must have clicked with the kid, as his eyes widened.
“No way! Are you a Loki?”
Loki released a confused growl. Was he a Loki? Of course he was! How could there be any other Loki’s?
“I get how it can be confusing,” spoke the kid, seemingly caring about him. “I was surprised too. There’s a lot of Loki’s that try to break the timeline. We do it like it’s our destiny. You seem alright. I know we’re not great on trust, but can you trust me for a few minutes? I can get you some food.”
Loki was never one for trust. He would feign trust and then betray, that was his nature. His typical self would have attacked the kid for being so open. But this child, a Loki, who had arrived out of nowhere, seemed to want the best for him, to help him through a confusing environment. Maybe he could trust this kid, for now.
Loki did his best to nod, and must have done it properly, as the kid responded with a smile.
“Alright, my hideout is not far from here. You can call me Kid Loki by the way. Too many Loki’s here, so we have to refer to one another by an adjective or something that’s descriptive. How about I call you Gator Loki? Do you like that?”
Gator Loki? He liked the ring of that. He suddenly felt something land on top of him. He looked up and saw a horned helmet on his head. Did Kid Loki make that for me?
Maybe this new life would be alright.