The God of Mischief

The God of Mischief: The Desperate Darlings known as Drya: Jezebelle

Thu, 07 Jun 2012 01:36:00 -0400

The God of Mischief: The Desperate Darlings known as Drya: Jezebelle:

Jessie cries out in pain as her wrists turns, her arm going with it to prevent the brittle bones from crushing under his grip. She gasps, clawing at the fingers around her throat with her free hand, an oppressive blackness seeping into the edges of her vision. She tries to kick him off of her, but her movements are slow and sluggish with the lack of oxygen.
As she is about to black out, a flash of orange enters her vision. There it is again! Suddenly, her throat is released and she is shoved aside. Her chest heaves as she attempts to catch her breath, as she is sent into a coughing fit. She vaguely hears another person talking, but she has her entire attention focused on regaining her lost, precious oxygen. She hears the whirring of some form of weapon, and instinctively rolls away from where she assumed the man was standing.

A red and gold hand is suddenly in front of her face, and she takes it, shakily standing up. The man in front of her, she had seen him occasionally on the television in the bars. He is the Iron Man, the pet project of some billionaire philanthropist to save the world. She blinks, wondering if she had actually died and this was all a dream, until he hands her a small device. She can feel it, very real, so she knows she is still alive.

When the Iron Man flies away, shaky, bloody fingers open up the small circular device. “H-Hello?” Her voice is raw and scratchy from nearly being choked to death, but she manages to croak out the words. “Uhm … Tony said to tell you that there’s trouble at … 36 degrees … 10’ something north … there’s trouble in Vegas and apparently the man that caused it is named Loki.” She shuts the small device, stowing it in her pocket as she runs through the panicking crowd of people, back towards the bar and her bike. She had to get out of here before she completely lost her mind.

Hoping onto the metal monster, forsaking the helmet in one of her packs, she scrambles in her pockets for the key. Finally finding the damn thing, bloody fingers insert it into the ignition, and start the black cycle. With a few revs, she peels out of the parking lot onto a side road, intent on getting the hell out of dodge, as the phrase would be. She flies down the road, uncaring of the speed limit or her own safety - she just wanted to leave. She makes an insane, reckless, sharp turn, her knee practically scraping the ground as she leans. The rushing wind whips her one lovely locks - now dirtied and bloodied - as she rides, hands gripping the handles as hard as they could.

He watches the scrambling mass gossip in fear to each other, the boy from before helping his brother up as the ice melts around their feet from his absence, and lastly the woman. Bloodied and bruised from their combat she staggers to her Midgardian vehicle, a “motorcycle,” he knows they are called. She struggles to place the key that will turn on the motor, the communication device still in her possession.

“Oh this will be most interesting…” He mutters to himself, analyzing her every move, taking note of her weakest spots and how well she may be able to battle again…if at all. Not so well as last time, that is certain. At last she gets the contraption to start and takes off frantically, eager to escape. With the idiot Avenger on the other side of town, Loki has a perfect opportunity.

“Hey…Hey you! Man in the coat! Aren’t you the guy that just - ”

The man does not finish his sentence and is instead thrown to the ground, unconscious or worse. And quite like a shadow, the ‘god,’ slips away.

Before no one’s eyes but the rats scurrying about in the alleyway, his form starts to change. The dark hair grows longer whilst his shoulder blades begin protruding. He hunches over, welcoming the transformation as hairs turn into feathers, and his nose becomes a beak. When it is complete an almost comical squawk rips from his now small figure as a bird. He takes off, following the exhaust of the woman’s transportation.

The wind ruffles the ordinary black raven feathers and tucked neatly underneath them are pointed, curved claws…the only odd thing is its human-like blue eyes. They pierce whatever they see; taking in every detail they meet. He remembers…what this was like in a different time, to sail on the winds, and feel free…free to do anything. But was he not free now? Free to do anything?

And there she is, he notices her in the distance, taking a hasty sharp turn. At this rate, he would never catch up…but this was no ordinary bird. And obviously no ordinary man. This was the master of tricks and magic…and mischief. The wings beat harder against the current of the strong wind, and the more they flutter the faster he goes before he may as well be soaring as fast as the speed of light.

He catches up, hovering right above her, planning his moves. The moon is his friend tonight, shining almost as if only for him, whilst night shrouds over her. Distraction first, the device shortly after. She has no idea what awaits for her, her mind set entirely on getting to Helheim knows where. He screeches out to her, trying to catch her off guard before swooping down. Claws extend and grip one of the hands holding the handle of the conveyance before harshly pulling away. More blood flows, and another screech follows.

The device. Where is the device?

Abnormal eyes search for the desired object, until at last, catching something that glimmers like metal in the moonlight. He goes for it; talons still outstretched threateningly, just waiting for her to stop the vehicle or crash. It matters not which happens, if she is to die, he shall easily find another hostage. Either way, he shall get what he wants, and achieve revenge against the defiant fool. She would die eventually anyway…

How pretty your head will look on a stake as a warning to others.

The hooks for feet at last grasp the device, and he cries out in victory, attempting to pull it away from the afflicted human. But they are too short and smooth to keep a hold.

This will not do.

Suddenly, to the woman’s surprise (and yet, from her expression, she does not seem entirely so astonished) he changes, turning back into the humanoid form from before, clothes and all. He growls, grabbing the sought after item with one hand and wrapping around her hand over one of the motorcycle’s handles. This presses against the wound, and from her sharp intake he knows it is causing the pain he wishes it. He jumps off, landing perfectly fine on the ground. He smirks, and continues to observe the struggle between machine and woman in the distance as well as inspecting the new strange object in his hand. He looks on with satisfaction, anticipating her doom or her survival.

Either way.

She was his now.

'Eventually,' I Shall Return...

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 22:48:00 -0400

I have answered many of your inquiries, and even permitted a story…

That should be enough for now. Eventually, I shall return…I shall not always come back every day, I am a busy King and god.

(OOC: WOOHOOO. I’M BACK! I had soooo much fun with this round of questions, just, WOW, and I hope you guys had as much fun as me. ^_^

If you’re new and missed the big event of the day, which was, by the way my 700th post! Here’s the story! I named it, The Frost Giant Who Had No Heart, which is somewhat influenced by The Giant Who Had No Heart. I think The Storyteller (one of my favorite shows ever! - And yes, parentheses in parentheses are for the WIN) did that story! I put a lot of different twists on it though, one huge one being that it was entirely based in the other eight realms, haha! A few things are made up and a few things are authentic, real Norse mythology!

ALSO. I was able to post my favorite riddle today! YES. Love that Riddle…fantastic. If you give up, you can ask me what it is! Or Loki…
DON’T LOOK IT UP. Even though…I know…I can’t stop you. *Sigh.* STILL. You should really try to figure it out yourself. XP

Aaaaand…I made a personal Loki-blog! Called Loki’s Puppetmaster, if you’re curious about why I created it and stuff you can find out on the blog! I hope you like it! To summarize what I tell you however, it’s more or less where you can ask the person behind Loki’s mask questions/give feedback and get a bunch of Loki spam every once and awhile. XD

I’ll be back on sometime tomorrow! And yes, I know…’Scumbag King Says, “I Shall Return,” Doesn’t.’ Pfffft…I can’t tell you how much that cracked me up. That was brilliant grindylowe, lol!!!

With Love,

Your OOC Loki)

It has been quite some time, your regime is looking wonderful and you- have you been well?

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 22:08:00 -0400

My regime grows stronger every passing moment and…I have been.
As well as one in my position may be.

And…ah, you, my Lady?

My king, I do believe most of the people who have things to say to you are fools. I am not in any way saying I am better than them -as a human we are all equally in need of your guidance and rule- but I would like to inform you of my extremely strong desire to follow everything you say to the fullest and that those who do not need to think things through. You will rule as King, after all, and it is a title only you are fit for, your majesty.

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 22:02:00 -0400

They are fools, and that is why they are in need of my guidance and rule and mine alone. You are wise to be so obedient - you shall do well…if you are intelligent enough to continue making the decision to follow suit, that is.

why is your hair so awesome? also favorite pudding? :)

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 22:00:00 -0400

I wash it in the blood of my victims.

-Laughs-

Just a quip. I am a god, mortal. As the saying goes, ‘put two and two together.’

As for my ‘favorite,’ pudding. I do not have one. There are too many to choose from, quite frankly. I do not care enough about it to create a ‘favorite,’ type.

Scumbag King: Says "I Shall Return". Doesn't.

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:58:00 -0400

I claimed I would return - and I have. How impatient. So distrusting. You must have more faith, mortal.

It is well understood that you are a cunning king and brilliant tactician, however I do wonder how well you understand your new subjects. I'm sure Midgardian motivations appear petty to you, yet many of us have never lived in a society with a supreme ruler, as you have. I find your determination to immediately squash any signs of rebellion as rather straightforward for someone with your reputation. What of making us think it is our own idea? Consider the" rebellion" in the novel 1984.

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:57:00 -0400

And yet, these are all Midgardian ideals - and with these Midgardian ideals, wars and chaos and destruction has ensued. You attempt to rule the other, madly scrambling for power, only for it to backfire and harm everything and everyone in your path. I know exactly what I am doing, and who are you to question me? ‘Rather straightforward for someone with my reputation?’

-Huffs-

You know nothing of me, and do not act as if you do. Keep your little, mortal, fictional-novel-inspired propositions to yourself.

Watcha thinkin 'bout?

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:52:00 -0400

What a simple query…

Unfortunately, you could not comprehend my thoughts - even put into Midgardian words. So there is no point in imparting the information with you.

How do you feel to know that it took seven superheroes to defeat…just you?

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:51:00 -0400

That eventually all of Midgard shall be in my grasp, and that the ‘Avengers’ no longer stand, and honestly never had stood a chance.

Alas, I have come to tell you my secret. You haven't recognized my name, I see, but I am the god of nothing, the invisble, and the unknown. I am the creator of the gray mask, of the anonymous. Once I learned my powers, I erased the memory of me in everyone and went to explore. I am so unknown that in all the knowledge you gained, I was not part. Have questions been asked about you that were asked by a namless person? It was my work.

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:49:00 -0400

If ‘tis true, then what a cowardly god you must be, always lurking and hiding in the back of every being’s mind - and if otherwise, I question your sanity. I know for a fact that questions by the ones that hide behind a grey mask are asked, generally, by different individuals. For example, Kat Adrian Miller, had inquired after whether or not, ‘Thor had ever taken me as his lover,’ - might I add, humans.

-Rolls eyes-

- behind a grey mask. Eventually, as you may discover if you were to research the questions before this one, she came out from behind her mask and revealed herself…by asking another ridiculously mortal question.

Because of this, there is a flaw in what you have told me, and because of this flaw, I do not believe or trust you - and so, returning to the beginning of my response. If ‘tis true, you are a cowardly god. If ‘tis false, then I question your sanity and your loyalty, mortal. And if you are disloyal…then there is no need of your existence.

Oh, my Lord. Lead me. Oh, please, my Lord ... please just lead the HELL out of me.

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:48:00 -0400

I will lead the disobedience and deception of independence out of you, certainly.

My King, myself and this horde of Midgard women would like to volunteer to serve as your harem, to entertain and delight His Majesty in any way he wishes. We count among us some of the most beautiful of Midgard women, and those of lesser physical perfection are excellent chefs, or well versed in lore, or sing like angels, or are well trained in massage arts, or quantum physics. We live to serve His Majesty. Where shall we put our things?

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:47:00 -0400

You shall turn around and put them back from whence they come - and you along with them. I do not want you or any other Midgardian women be they believed as the most beautiful in all of the nine realms or more ugly than the Dökkálfar. If I desired such company I would acquire it myself.

I don't think you're capable of love. Not since you were betrayed. You won't let anyone it.

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:47:00 -0400

I care not, I do not need love, I do not want it, or desire it from anyone else.

Kneels before Loki My Lord, King...God. I ask but one thing, the answer to this riddle: At night they come without being fetched. By day they are lost without being stolen. What are they?

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:45:00 -0400

-Leans closer with a light smirk gracing delicate, noble features as words roll smoothly past thin lips, as if coated and dripping with sweet honey-

The stars.

-Straightens and clears throat-

Now, if you can, answer me this - without, of course, cheating, as I know you Midgardians are rather prone to do.

‘Twas whispered in Heaven, ‘twas muttered in Hell,
And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell;
On the confines of Earth, ‘twas permitted to rest,
And in the depths of the ocean its presence confessed;
‘Twill be found in the sphere when ‘tis riven asunder,
Be seen in the lightning and heard in the thunder;
‘Twas allotted to man with his earliest breath,
Attends him at birth and awaits him at death,
Presides o’er his happiness, honor and health,
Is the prop of his house and the end of his wealth.
In the heaps of the miser, ‘tis hoarded with care,
But is sure to be lost on his prodigal heir;
It begins every hope, every wish it must bound;
With the husbandman toils, and with monarchs is crowned;
Without it the soldier and seaman may roam,
But woe to the wretch who expels it from home!
In the whispers of conscience its voice will be found,
Nor e’er in the whirlwind of passion be drowned;
‘Twill soften the heart; but though deaf be the ear,
It will make him acutely and instantly hear.
Set in shade, let it rest like a delicate flower;
Ah! Breath on it softly, it dies in an hour.

What is it?

Loki, I bow to you. curtseys You are forever my god and king. I shall do anything you should ask of me. I wish to serve you in any way possible.

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:43:00 -0400

There is nothing else that I would demand of you, save for your fear, respect, and allegiance - should there be anything that I require from you, assuredly, I shall tell you.

I much prefer to stay out of the limelight, so I will remain anonymous, but I must ask you this: If you hate Thor so much, why have you not killed him? You've had the opportunity, and yet you seemed unable to finish him. What stayed your hand? Also, I would humbly like to give you a batch of my homemade cookies.

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:42:00 -0400

Unable to finish him? Oh certainly not, I am waiting for the right, perfect moment to end him, mortal. When I kill him…it shall be the worst, cold, most excruciating way to die.

I care not for ‘cookies,’ you can eat them yourself, however.

* Runs up to and hugs quickly* My dear king, I fear not of death because it is the greatest honor to be killed by the most mighty of Asgard and Midgard. It is even a greater honor to hug you. I say my last words- I love you. kneels in front of you and waits for death to overcome

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:41:00 -0400

-Rolls eyes-

How moronic. Do you honestly have such a strong death wish? I, of course, can oblige as such insolence will not be tolerated…yet, if all you had desired was a ‘hug,’ perhaps you could have asked instead of floundering and begging to be killed like some platitudinous fish jumping out of water.

Good day, Loki. As the daughter of a Dane I have been raised on ancient tales of your tricks and exploits in the past, and find many of them to be among my favorite stories. As the sister to an extremely talented and often favored yet equally often irresponsible and overly stubbourn (pigheaded might be a good word) sibling I love, there are still times when I want nothing more than to teach him/her a lesson. I must ask: is there any advice you might offer to one in such a predicament? Mange tak

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:40:00 -0400

I understand you are comparing yourself to me, and this is unwise - believe me, there are many, many differences between us - many. You are only a Midgardian, and there is not much that you can truly do. However, impudence in my subjects - and it would appear your brother very much so possesses that - I can promise you, I shall deal with.

A question for you, sire: What are the inherent differences between you and I? If a human were blessed with an interminable lifespan and magic technology, would you and I be so unalike? Or are there more important differences inside which go unseen?

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:38:00 -0400

Oh, there are certain other differences besides those two, but they do make a part of what makes you inferior. A considerable difference is that humanity is simply such an infantile race. I have lived longer than almost every generation in the history Midgardians.

Since you won't let me rule beside you, then can I still actively support you by shining your shoes? I'd be kneeling each time I do so I'll always know my place in your presence.

Sun, 03 Jun 2012 21:37:00 -0400

My boots do not need shining, I am a god and a shape shifter, if I want them to be shined, then they simply…will be. If I require something from you, I shall inform you.