Chapter Text
The alley was dark, damp, and stank of sweaty mortals.
Odin certainly chose a disgusting place to send me. Further proof of his never-ending hatred for his second born.
He rolled to his side, grimacing at the gray sludge clogging the edges of the curb next to the building.
Norns, where am I?
With a groan, he sat up, listening to the sounds of screaming coming from the next street over. He didn't know if he had landed in the middle of a party or a great battle, so he picked his helmet up off of the ground and settled it back on his head, ready for anything. Though Odin had stripped him of his Seidr, he still had his dagger, and that would have to do. He carefully adjusted it inside his pants before stepping out of the alley into the throng of people.
Suddenly, there was a blond, tan, half-naked mortal man hanging on his shoulder. He was a split second away from cutting the man's throat when the mortal yelled;
"Fucking AWESOME helmet, dude! Where'd you get that? Holy shit, man! Your outfit! You look like a fucking god!"
In one swift move, he had the mortal in a head lock.
"I am a god. It would do you good to show some respect, mortal."
The man went limp in his arms, but was not unconscious. He simply shook his head.
"Oh, fuck...I must be tripping harder than I thought."
He let the mortal drop to the ground and unceremoniously walked over him, again wondering what the Hel was going on.
There were thousands of people all rammed together, seemingly drunk, screaming, throwing things, and they were all wearing very few articles of clothing. Some of them weren't even bothering to cover their nether regions. Some were purposefully showing their nether regions in exchange for some sort of multi-colored baubles they all proudly displayed around their necks. It was madness.
And the most interesting part is that they are all dressed in my colors...except for the purple. That purple has to go.
As he worked his way through the crowd, more people attempted to touch his armor, his cape, his helmet, and he angrily shoved them away. Their reactions surprised him, though. They didn't even seem discouraged; it was as though they were used to being pushed around. Looking around, he realized that these interactions were happening all around him. Mortal men grabbed at mortal women, and they laughed as the women punched and kicked them, then moved on to their next victim.
Further up the street, under a sign that read Huge Ass Beers to Go, he saw a pretty little mortal with long black curly hair and bright blue eyes peeking through an emerald green feathered mask. Around her neck were several pairs of those multi-colored baubles along with a homemade cardboard sign. Its message was clear. It said: Don't fucking touch me!!! He wondered if the sign had been made by her or her lover, but he didn't see any male suitors around her. His curiosity was piqued, so he began to follow the mortal.
When she turned around and began walking up the sidewalk, he saw that she was wearing black leather pants and a sleek, shiny green top that left very little to the imagination. Her back was pale and flawless under the cascade of black ringlets, and he found himself wanting to run his fingers down her spine. Don't fucking touch me...He wondered how many men had pawed her before she became desperate enough to make that crude sign. He shoved several mortals away as he tried to keep up with her. They were standing in his path, gaping at him as if they weren't dressed just as awkwardly as he was.
He wondered idly whether all of these women were prostitutes. None of them were properly covered. Their clothing was scanty, barely hiding their breasts, and most of them wore purple, green, or gold feathered masks and feathered boas. They didn't seem to mind when strange men grabbed them; even giggling when one pulled them in for an inappropriate tongue kiss.
Did I fall out of Asgard into a giant Midgardian orgy? Or are all of these women prostitutes, and these men are simply trying to choose the best one?
If that was the case, he knew which one he wanted, and she obviously didn't appreciate random groping. He would have to find another way to approach her.
It wasn't long before he found the perfect opportunity.
He had been watching her out of the corner of his eye while simultaneously observing the madness taking place around him. Several hundred mortals were gathered underneath a balcony where men were tossing baubles to any woman who lifted her shirt over her head. As much as he enjoyed the display itself, he couldn't help but shake his head at the idiocy of these mortal women.
Are they really accepting these cheap baubles as payment? I have a pocketful of gold...
Suddenly, he caught a quick movement out of the corner of his eye, and he realized it was his mortal. She was flailing her arms; her hair tossing about wildly.
"Read the sign, asshole!" She screamed as a tall, skinny mortal with pictures drawn all over his arms pinned her against the brick wall behind her.
Oh, Hel no.
A half second later, the man was dangling by his throat, struggling for breath.
"Holy fuck," the man choked out, "Who the hell are you?"
"Ah, finally, someone has the decency to ask. I am Loki, of Asgard," he squeezed the man's throat tighter. "Now, READ THE SIGN."
"Uhhghh...I did..."
The man pulled at Loki's hands, but it was no use.
"OUT LOUD! So I know you understand, you imbocile."
"Umm... It... It says, 'Don't f-fucking t-touch me.'"
My first act on Midgard probably shouldn't be murder. I guess I will let this one go with a warning.
"What part of that did you not comprehend, mortal?" He threw the man onto the ground, and watched as he scrambled away holding his raw throat.
Meanwhile, the pretty girl he had been admiring was cowering in the corner between the two buildings, just a few feet away from where Loki stood. She was still shivering when he hesitantly offered her his hand to help her up. Her blue eyes narrowed through the slits in her mask, and Loki was afraid she would run away, but she didn't.
She smiled tentatively, reaching up to take his hand.
"Thanks...that guy has been following me for four blocks."