Prologue
'It is better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven ~ Paradise Lost'
"You're mad."
"I believe he prefers term eccentric."
"You all are!"
"I believe not." Drawled a silky, bored voice, the voice belonged to a man sitting on a chair on the far side of the dressing room. He was swivelling about in it lazily, twirling eyeliner between long fingers, his face heavily painted. His eyes and lips were blacked out and his face was a ghostly white, shimmering with glitter. He was wearing a leather jacket with more buckles and chains than a fetish shop, shrugged half heartedly over a green tshirt with a symbol of two snakes intertwined, holding each other's bleeding tails in their jaws. The shirt had ragged rips down each side, exposing pale glitter covered flesh where it wasn't hidden by the jacket. Leather pants clung to his slender legs, half hidden by knee high heeled riding boots, one was white, one was black and they had chains crisscrossing down the outside length of them from zipper to heel and spurs attached. He had raven hair that fell down onto the nape of his neck and curled out and emerald green eyes that shone in the dim light. "I do not wish to repeat myself, either rectify this mistake or you will find yourself out of a job."
"You're bloody mad Loki, we can't just 'rectify' the size of the concert hall because your props won't all fit onto the stage." A man with long hair pulled back into a pony tail tugged on his close cropped beard and watched Loki, he was Loki's manager, and yet again exasperated by his client.
"Pray tell how I can perform if my things do not fit onto said stage?"
"You make fucking do!"
"Boss I don't-"
"Do not be a kiss arse Jake it doesn't suit you."
"Fine, I won't help." The owner of the voice held up his hands in a placating manner.
"Don't call him Jake this close to stage call." Loki chided.
"Sorry, Frey."
Jake pushed his shaggy blonde fringe out of his eyes and tried not to grin, he sat back against the vanity table he was leaning on and strummed gently on his electric Gibson guitar.
"We have one more set until this venue, I expect you to rectify this mistake, either you find me a bigger venue or I don't play, it is that simple."
"You know, if you were anyone else I would have dumped your arse and found a better client."
"Of course."
"You'd better blow my fucking mind tonight Loki."
"When do I not?"
"You're lucky you're right."
"You are lucky I still deem you worthy of my time."
"If I hadn't of found you-"
"Some other faceless music corporation would have found me and given me what I need."
"There is just no arguing with you is there."
"I have spent centur- what feels like centuries fighting for my right to be heard, I will not let mere mortals silence it now."
"Here we go with the mortal talk." Jake, or Frey sighed.
"I am a god am I not ?"
"Not quite yet Loki, but after this tour you bloody well will be, you will be a household name, up there with David Bowie, Bon Jovi, Hendrix, the lot. Your first global tour, you are taking the world by storm, 1989 is your year man."
"Then see that I am not disappointed in the choice of venues, lest my tour take an unsavoury turn."
"You would sabotage your own tour over something like that."
"I see it not as sabotage, for any number of managers would be desperate to take over and find me a suitable venue choice if you failed."
"Why do I work for the biggest fucking diva in Rock and Roll? Remind me again."
"Because he is fucking brilliant?" Loki offered before spinning his chair to face the mirror and touching up his eyeliner, a clear dismissal if there ever was one.
"At least once we cross to the states you won't be able to bitch about the venues, they're fucking beautiful and huge."
"They had best be, I refuse to take half measures if I plan to become a global success."
An eye roll came from his manager who mouthed something like 'drama queen' to Frey before turning to the door and leaving.
"You have half an hour Frey to round up the rest and get your fucking arses in gear, understood?"
"Yes sir!" Frey paused mid strum and saluted, pick in hand. The man left at that and Frey placed his guitar down gently.
"Well, you heard the man, lets go find the rest of the hell's angels."
Loki graced him with a look that said it all.
"Or not, I'll do it myself shall I? Wonderful." He turned and left, flinging the door wide in mock offense and disappearing.
Loki eyed the door quietly for a moment, and when no one else appeared he flicked his hand lazily into the air. The door swung shut as if by magic and Loki grinned, white teeth glinting in the half light as he looked back into the mirror.
"To dominate Midgard would be such a fun use of my time," he smiled at his reflection, "I don't need an army like father to have the world fall to their knees, if only you could see me now." He laughed, a gutteral sound that seemed to rip out of his throat in mad gasps. Green flames danced across his fingers as he heard the sound of the band that proceeded them on stage, the crowd's pitiful cries, they weren' t here for them after all. He looked over his outfit once more before realising he had missed something, he squeezed his hands and his fingernails came away black and sharpened like claws.
He walked across to Frey's guitar, shifting his studded belt across his backside so it hung loosely down one side. A bandana appeared the other side, knotted into his hip and hugging his right leg. His metal covered heels clicked on the floor and he waved a hand over Frey's guitar, the strings instantly tightened slightly and he smirked to himself, for a brilliant guitarist Frey allowed his strings to become terribly abused from his constant use, he couldn't have them snapping again during a performance.
He perused around the dressing room as he waited, enjoying the click of his footsteps that garnered everyone's attention once he entered a room. Not that he truly needed it, he got it from his presence alone, he just liked people to know he was coming.
Soon he would be on stage, and as much as he tried to convince himself this was just a bit of fun and a use of his time whilst he tried to get some peace from Asgard, Thor and his father, he couldn't deny how immensely he enjoyed himself up on stage. He was a born performer after all, and to have hundreds, maybe thousands of people clawing at his feet and screaming his name in desperation, well, who couldn't love that?
He checked his setlist once more, not that he needed too, and settled back down into his chair, he smiled to himself once more. America, his next great conquest and two sets away. He had Europe eating from the palm of his hand, it was all too easy. All too easy indeed.