The man WANTS to Keep a Troll down

It was a blink of an eye before he was back in Chicago, back in the office, and back in the mood of the jolly ol' troll that everyone just loved to hate. It seemed as if the Trolltastic one was doing his job as Hiim was becoming progressively aggrivated with his antics and even more so that he had time to pull the shit he did and get results. At any rate it wasn't about what had and hadn't be done just yet because Sir Trollington the Third had to get their asses in gear and deal with the issue at hand, getting to the island base of SHIELD. The Troll referred to himself as them now because his inasnity had pushed him to the brink of believing that his top hat was actually a person with it's own thoughts and will and life and that they were just connected by a powerful bond. He felt as if they were brothers, but something that they had that brothers didn't was an uncanny sense of both style and perception which both came into effect from this eight floor building that they stood upon. From here on their groups Perch he could see the SHIELD agents around the diner that his death destroyed checking into the death of their leader, magnet boy or whatever his name was and that signified that it was time to commence their plan of action. The Troll begrudgingly sat down his top hat and cane and closed his eyes. From this point until God knows when he would be Akisame Sakake and that would have to be that. Looking over to Pyrrhus he pointed to the SHIELD agents and spoke subtly to the man as he would one of his equals on his own plane of existence. "I have spotted the men that we were searching for, what is our next course of action?"

(Rushed post is shitty, sorry.)

Egypt was a walk in the park, and by walk in the park, an absolute clusterfuck where the dark skinned bluemen are sporadically spurred by incentives of the enlightened bold man of Grecian disposition's modus operandi in such inclinations of human dieting. Regardless affairs leading to the totality of dining in sapien tendering, he graced the lobbies of the building fresh from the cumbersome jetlag that ails his sleep pattern he lacks a need to fondle into as to restore the restoration of his mind in ways as to realize the manifest destiny of his brain in what would be a most astute rest most realized mostly in great nourishment of senses the which he lacks a requirement indulgence into such. It was a great realization that truly life was nice after bonking a bitch ho bitch quid pro quo except words translated into actions, as he SHOULD be somewhere to be planning stuff out, and truly he is. After all the assignment he got was with someone he is most likely to blow a hole into his head over assisting in such endeavors but alas, his Grecian skills are called forth into arms in need to serve a purpose better than that of thrusting his xiphos into a gaping axe wound. As he was walking around the lobby circle-wise, and exiting straight-wise, he waltzed through the grounded concrete in due speed on his way towards meeting whomever he was supposed to meet, after speaking to the magical "telephone" speak through device with the voice of this one known as Hiim projecting his wishes to Pyrrhus after a job well done securing the glorious Lord Chthon's reign in the world. Not that he is a Chthonist himself. As he says, "SO HERE I AM! When do we get the meeting underway?" Of course, when did that pasty honky albino alien turn decent human color, and why is it he was wearing that suit? Actually... WHY WAS PYRRHUS DOWNSTAIRS AND NOT UPSTAIRS? WHY WAS HE STREET LEVEL? Realizing such errs on his part, he rectified this by thinking quickly as gazes were set upon him. "Uhhh..." AHEM, THINKING QUICKLY TO DIVERT ATTENTION THAT MAY DIVINE HIS TRUE PURPOSE AS HIS EVIL MACHINATIONS BESET UPON THE SHIELD AGENTS. "OH RIGHT!" He thought, and then says, "Have you accepted Jesus as your Lord and Saviour?" SMOOOTH going Pyrrhus, REAL SMOOTH. You fucking nigger Greek caucasian. In such thoughts that coarsed through his head, he was met with the tirades of the SHIELD agent's of their lack of interests, and even bribes of money and consideration into his witnessed message as he turned away. Walking away. From the diner with the SHIELD agents. GOOD JOB PYRRHUS. And so, he leaves, reaching out for his magical talking device as he recalls every possibilities and probabilities from a single gaze upon staring at the device, and with such deduction, clicks on the correct digits as to induce a ring at the flooring to which the pasty white honky alien resides at. It was the local telephone usually for official stuff.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT INFERNAL RINGING NOISE?! Sir Trollington the Third wasn't the type of creature to get flustered easily, and that fact transfered even more so to akisame sakake, the being from the twelfth dimension. The noise that plauged the philosophical twelfth dimensional warrior was something like what a four would use to get to something of a lower caliber like a being from earth. It was again to be stated that the fact that it was bothering Akisame was something to behold for outside of his guise as a fool he was a man who normally was nothing more or less than cool and composed, but even with where he was now he had to figure out what this sound was that was resounding through the area before he went insane and snapped. Rightfully he had to assume that it was a four due to the spreading knowledge that he hadn't been home for at least a millenia and that he probably couldn't return for what ever reason. And if one was to assume that he couldn't return it was clearly understandable that he couldn't traverse any plane besides the third, which he was stuck on. A swelling was felt in Akisame's chest that he realized too late to be rage. It was expelled from him like booming thunder from the heavens above in a form that would be understandable by most humans. "TRY AS YOU WILL YOU MEAGER INSECTS BUT MY RESOLVE SHANT BE RATTLED BY THE LIKES OF PRADLE SUCH AS YOU!" The sound echoed throughout the tall room with a fierce power that shook enough to rattle the office phone from it's resting place and onto the floor. Walking over to the contraption and realizing that it probably was the source of the sound he lifted it from the floor placing what side he believed was correct to his ear. In a very mono-toned and collected manner he spoke to the person on the other end, who he assumed to be someone in The Collective as they had the office number, "Akisame here, speak and I will understand." Sir Trollington the Third would usually have a field day in a situation like this, but it was time for Akisame to put plans in motion.

The magical device imparted its mystical powers of conveying messages through spatial displacing dimensional means from one end unto another as if it were a blessed instrument anointed to serve the function of simultaneous communication. Much of this still baffled him even now as he suffers a case of cultural shock, but regardless the change of time, man remained the same, only the nature of his environment had come to change, and much of that artificial as it were. Making alien contraptions of mysterious functions that baffles him, as his knowledge comes from Hiim directly. As he gazed unto his mind in the past, so too did Pyrrhus gaze into Hiim's knowledge. A very interesting mortal indeed that would be fit more akin to the past ancient times than this modern world of theirs, but whichever the case, he had a phone call to get to. He made sure to stay out of the hearing distance of the SHIELD agents whom are quite ignorantly sitting there in their full uniform though. "Oy, look outside the window. Like look outside RIGHT NOW. I am literally close to those SHIELD agents. And listen, you know the plan, right? Like what the flesh mask told you yesterday?" Pyrrhus says to the infernally damnable alien who apparently went to Greek Hell instead of alien Hell. As confusing as that sounds, but then again, such an alien should even be lucky to experience glorious Greek superiority over his unevolved primate hind quarters, given he is A) not human, and B) not Greek either. Which is to say to even go to Hades itself should be an honor at least suffice to say on such accounting.

There was nothing left to be said by either party that belonged to the same party so both knew what they had to do. There were two ways to go about this, elevator or stairs and yet Akisame had no time for the games presented by the slower of the two so he made haste, moving at a speed that couldn't be followed by the normal human eyes, hurrying down the stairs and out onto the street brushing right past Phyrrus. The Greek probably already foresaw the events that took place, what with Sakake's speed he would have had to to notice any of it. His arm was pursed and elbow, readied as the tip of a spear would be, was driven into the center of the spine of the S.H.I.E.L.D agent closest to the diner yet furthest from the rest of the pack for a reason. The specifications of his mission required the death of the agent but a clean one that would place his body securely out of sight. Out of sight in this instance being into the wall of the diner with no clear external damage. It was true though, that the force placed on the body was enough to cause the side that made impact to become bottom and so on and so forth, but the tumbling of what remained of the scene of the crime wasn't the worst of the worries of the men here. It was the fully charged solar powered super something that they would come to know as their bane. He had one more goal to accomplish and this was yet the simplest. The usage of his power, one of the main ones, brought the three other agents that moved to prepare for combat to meet in a central area amidst the only slightly busy street face to face. The force wasn't even enough to knock them out, just to hinder them from moving and like any overly dramatic super villian, Akisame had to make his way towards the trio slowly as if there were cameras watching him and women clamoring to see him move as mellowdramatically and senselessly slow as possible. Alas all the twelfth dimensioner could hope for was that he wasn't magically jumped from behind by a blunt object and subdued by such feeble attempts despite his resistance to such actions.