Loki and that Blonde Guy with a Hammer

“Shit.”

Who said that? She turned toward the noise, sure she had heard someone cursing under their breath. There were only five people in their car. She heard it again, but it seemed to come from an empty corner. The lights flickered to life briefly, then went out for good. Something else seemed to flicker in front of her. Much like the monster, the vision was fuzzy and suddenly snapped into focus.

The leather clad guy from the market.

She was about to ask where he had come from when the car lurched again, throwing everyone to the ground.

“Dude, your foot is pretty far up my nose, I'm going to get athlete's foot. Do you mind?” she snarled, wiping blood from her nose as she turned to see who had given her a free nasal cleaning.

Loki was visibly startled. A mortal had not only seen him, but touched him. Something was wrong. Whatever it was, it was interfering with his magic, which would not do. As much as he liked the idea of watching the monster destroy another useless horde of wretched humans, it, or its masters, had something to do with his current shortcomings. This had to be handled swiftly.

He shifted, willing himself elsewhere. He smirked, opening his eyes...still in the train car. His smirk quickly turned into an irritated grimace. What was the point of going to the human world to wreak havoc if hulking creatures were going to come out of the night, steal your powers, and trap you in a sardine can?

Loki unsheathed the sword-scepter and jammed it into the door, wedging it open.

“You idiot. You're going to mess up your replica if you start swinging it around like that. Besides, there's supposed to be an emergency release somewhere in here...I think.”

Loki snarled, turning toward whoever would dare berate a God such as he.

With a loud click, a lever was pulled, releasing the lock on the door. Loki shot an annoyed glance toward the woman, girl?, who had located the emergency release.

“What, no thank you? Just because you can afford a thousand bucks for custom made RenFaire crap doesn't make you above common courtesy,” the girl spat at him. “Douche,” she muttered.

“You have my thanks, wench, but stay out of my way.” He re-sheathed the scepter and pulled the door open.

“Oh my God, you are such an asshole. What are you gonna do now, jump? That sounds like a great way to break...well…everything.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you mind?” She gestured toward the door, apparently motioning for him to step back.

Loki could feel himself begin to shake in anger. Who did this mortal think she was? The ground didn't look that far away and it wasn't like he hadn't handled worse before. Just because one little- “What are you doing?”

The girl had swung out onto the side of the train, slowly inching along the side toward what he now recognized as a ladder hidden in a supporting pillar below them. “For one spouting the dangers of such a height, you seem well on your way to a glorious death of your own.”

Despite her brazenness and outward courage, he could see her back quivering and fingers shaking from fear. Is this the idiocy human blondes are so known for? Is that why there are so many well known parables in human culture about those with fair hair? Her hair seemed fairly dark, almost brown. Shouldn't she be at least partially immune from this horrific malady?

Though the human had brought him nothing but anguish and headaches, he felt the need to repay her misguided helpfulness. “Just come back in. I'll go in your stead.” He leaned his head out, leaning against the open door frame.

Her eyes widened. “No, don't!!”

With his full weight on the door and the girl hanging on the side of the car, the train became unbalanced and began to tip. It shook violently back and forth, trying to gain back its equilibrium, and throwing her toward the black streets below.