Ch.4
Loki dodged Iron Man's repulsor blast, before swinging his arm and throwing one of his daggers in Thor's direction. The blade almost hit its target but got deflected with a strong blow from a hammer, which left a few cracks in the metal, as it landed in a pile of rubble nearby. In the distance screams from civilians could be heard, who tried to get away and not get bitten by the mass of spiders, he brought from a cave hidden deep under the surface of Alfheim.
After showing himself to the world, he started to venture out of his apartment much more. Even though he traveled between realms more freely now, he never quite left Midgard. The place wasn't as primitive as it was when he'd last visited it. Well before he attacked it, of course. While he hasn't paid attention to what changed since he has last set feet on the realm, some things still caught his eye.
And who could entertain him as the Avengers do.
Right now he stood with his back to a wall, panting. He hasn't quite got the energy to teleport away like he always does, so he settled on changing into some bird. He was aware that if the Avengers knew it was him he wouldn't have the chance to even escape, but he hoped they would see him as just a random bird, trying to get away from all the Chaos.
Shapeshifting isn't like all the other magic he does. There is no particular spell you have to learn to do it. Of course, there are some spells, other magic users who weren't gifted with it since birth, could use, but he wasn't one of them. He mostly had to think of the person or creature he wants to turn to. How it looks, walks, feels, and sees the world around itself. So he concentrated on his magic core and imagined a black crow, with sharp eyes, gracefully shacking its fea-
There was a load crash. A cloud of smoke rose around him. This split-second his concentration broke determined everything.
*
Slowly he blinked his eyes open. The first thing his senses took notice of, was the strong smell of something burnt. Then something wet beneath him. Loki tilted his head up, only to see an insects like thing laying in front of him. Startled he jumped on his feet, ready to run in the opposite direction. But the only thing that happened, was his face meeting the ground. Rampling himself up, he whirled around to face his opponent before it could make a move, only to see it laying on the ground unmoving.
Loki started to approach it. Now that he took a closer look, he was certain it was dead. Half of its body was burnt, while the other crushed, purple blood leaking from underneath it, spilled everywhere. At least he hoped it was blood and not some toxin because he was pretty sure, he, while being unconscious, got a bit of it on his skin.
Now that his panic has lowered he wanted to get a vague idea of his situation. Everything in his surroundings looked different. Well, to be precise, bigger. The building around him looked more like mountains trying to reach the sky. A bright light shone from the entrance of the alley.
Clumsy he set in the direction of it. Only a few meters away, he could see the dirty water off a puddle, shining. Standing over it he scrunched his nose at the foul smell, that was coming from a half-eaten, soaked hotdog, laying in it.
Loki contemplated his options. He could either go on and find out what in his daughter's name was going on or first wash his sticky hands in the filthy water.
Not a moment later he was already walking around the pool. He wouldn't degrade himself so lowly as to washing himself in a dirty puddle on the streets.
Rounding it he stopped in an instant, when he caught, from the corner of his eyes, a reflection of something moving, in the water. His muscles tensed as Loki stepped into it, not even caring of its filthiness.
Staring back at him were the green eyes of a black cat with sleek fur. Its front paws and muzzle were coated in violet blood, trailing down its chest fur. Suddenly it whined and he knew what happened.
He must have changed into a cat instead of the creature he wanted. But why did he notice only now? How did he not feel the shift in his form?
Looking back into his reflection, he remembered the few times he took on this shape.
*
Quietly the predator sneaked in the bird's direction, which was peaking on the ground, looking for something to eat. One paw at the time, the hunter advanced. His paws never making a sound, while touching the ground. Tail held still just a couple of inches over the soil. Keeping track of the way the wind is blowing, so his prey couldn't sense his scent.
Lowering himself into a crouching position, not losing the bird from his vision. As the animal turned to his side, he leaped. His strong hind legs perfectly capable of giving him the push to overcome the enormous distance. The animal startled and let out a cry of fear, flapping its wings uselessly, as the predator came shooting at him, with outstretched front legs, sharp claws extended. While landing he snatched the frightened animal with his right paw, piercing his claws through feathers, into soft, pink flesh. With a quick bite to the neck, snapping the bone, he got to see the light fade from the prey's eyes. Now eyes glassed over, bek open from the last cry of fear, he bit into the side of the dove so it would be lither to carry it.
Padding through the forest, leaves crunching beneath his paws, the cat listened to the noises of the wild. The dove's screams of terror alarmed all the other animals, of the hunter. Like an alarm being set, warning others of nearing danger. A host of sparrows could be seen flying overhead of him. Squirrels fleeing on trees, mice looking for hideout between the roots, rabbits jumping in their holes, frogs disappearing in the water of their ponds and if the fish could hear the shout they would probably vanish into the deepest, darkest waters of their lake.
He could hear it all.
His ear twitched when he heard a shuffling sound in the bush on his left. He stilled. He knew that smell. Sitting down, still with the fresh prey in mouth, he waited for the visitor.
A big black raven, bigger than him, stepped out of the shrub. Its eyes trained on him. The cat tilted its head to the side and looked at the arriver expectations. The raven opened its bek and let out a shrill sound.
The cat let the bird fall from his teeth and looked up into the sky.
'Why did father send you, Huginn?' the cat thought.
The raven let out a sound and a voice could be heard in the cat's mind.
'He said, you shouldn't play around here, when Thor is waiting for you on the training grounds.'
The bird looked down at the dove.
'And what for a beautiful thing do you have 'ere?'
After a moment of considering Loki shoved the piece of meat in the raven's direction.
'Have it, I was only training anyways.' he stated and started walking away, while the raven greedily tore flesh from the lifeless creature, laying at its feet.
*
And that was only one of the times he took that particular shape. He sometimes trained his reflexes like that.
Even though he never changed often into the animal, it still seemed to him somehow familiar.
Loki shook his head, it wasn't a time to dwell on the past.
The water already was covering his paws, giving them a light lavender color. Loki huffed and started washing off the rest. While cleaning his jaw a little water got into his mouth. Spitting it out, his fur stood up, when he hissed in disgust.
Patting out off it he made his way to the entry to the main street. Looking round he spotted the Avengers. These morons probably didn't even know that he was still here. Good. It was better so. At least they couldn't stick him into a glass cage. As a cat.
The 'heroes' (read: his playthings) were scattered around in the area of his attack, cleaning up the rubble. They were calling themself mighty and jet were cleaning the streets like some petty servants.
Deciding he watched enough he teleported to his apartment. Or at least, he wanted to. Nothing happened. He tried again, but he still stood in the side street, he stood before. Holding up his paw he noticed that not even a green shimmer was flowing over it. A shudder overtook him when he couldn't feel his seidr.
What was happening? Why couldn't he use his magic?
Glancing back at the Avengers he noticed that they were already leaving. Turning around he started walking back to the place he woke up. Panic was overtaking him, but he needed to stay calm.
Circling the dead spider, an idea popped into his mind. What if the slime/blood was somehow affecting his magic. He hadn't found any useful pieces of information about this kind of arachnids back in Alfheim. He looked through the books in Vanaheims libraries too, but not many people examined and later wrote about them. There were just some tales about the brave warriors, who entered their underground nests and slew hundreds of them.
In truth, he just stumbled upon the information of their existence. Some Light Elf had been complaining about them and he thought, why not let the creatures get some revenge on the people who hurt them. What a shame that the spiders couldn't see the difference between a Midgardian and an Alf or Asgardian.
He will have to test that theory later. When he's home.
Biting into one of the spider's legs, he tore it from its body. The bitter taste and biting smell, made his nose wrinkle. As fast as he could his four paws carried him to the front door of his apartment block. Now, he somehow had to get in. Luckily for him, someone was just exiting the building, and before the door closed he slipped in. He remembered that his layout was on the third floor, even though he always just teleported in there. Well, not today it seems. Looking up the stairs he suddenly felt extremely small. Step after step he jumped his way up. Arriving at his floor he was exhausted and literally collapsed. He had jet to get used to his new body and use his energy only to a certain level. Panting he made his way over to his door, putting his paw on it to push it open. He stilled.
Of course, it wouldn't work. How has he forgotten about it? Not only was the door always looked, but there were dozens of protecting speels on it. Sitting down in front of it, he laid the spider leg on the ground and sighted, with came out more like a wheeze.
Now his only hope was that somebody would come around and help him. He hated relying on other people. Anyway, the only person that ever visited him, other than the old lady that was his neighbor and wanted to have some company, was Amora-
Amora
Amora, Amora, Amora
Amora
Amora
The fates hated him. Why did this have to happen after he had one of those childish fights with the woman, where she was getting angry without a reason. Even though Amora was a sorceress she never was one to learn new spells, just because she wanted to know more. She hasn't spent half her childhood reading books over and over again. And when he wanted to spend one day all alone, to read a book or something the like, she threw a tantrum. Loki had no idea, at times the Enchantress could be serious, at another behaving like a child.
He probably won't see her till next week. This one time when he needed her.
Fine. He can do it on his own.
Leaving the spider's leg behind, he jumped on the frame of the open window that was in the hallway. His claws dug deeper into it when he looked down. No, he definitely doesn't want to fall from here. He startled when his stomach rumbled and realized how hungry he was. Jumping on the metal railing he didn't even know what it was used for, he started making his way downwards. When the stairs ended there still were a couple of feet to the ground. For a Midgardian it probably wouldn't have been a too big gap, but since he is a cat... It was enormous. He wasn't jet used to his new form and didn't know what it could withstand, so he hadn't got a temptation to break any bones. Looking to the side there was a window. On the windowsill, there was some kind of fabric and a pot on it. There was still enough place for him to land on. He crouched down and pushed himself off, with his legs.
Not at all gracefully he landed there. Now the ground was closer. Again, he jumped with his forelegs stretched. When he felt ground under his paws he heard some weird noise. Suddenly something hit his head and it was dark. Loki's fur stood on end and his claws unsheathed themself, while he tried to keep his balance. A very strong smell of soil hit him.
Shacking off the flowerpot, he shook his head to get the dirt out of his fur. He must have pushed off the pot while he was jumping. If things like this keep happening he will never get something to eat.
Loki walked out of the alley while searching for the smell of food. But he was only met with a loud honking noise, the odor of trash, and thousand of kinds of perfume. Hundreds of Midgardians were walking down the streets in a hurry. Some of them with business attire, some casual.
Avoiding being stepped on, Loki patted through the crowd of people. When a young Midgardian tried to grab him but was pulled back by its parents, he fastened his pace. Smelling something, he stood still and angled his head up with his mouth open, hoping he could catch the scent.
There
It was coming from a hole in the side of a building. Squeezing himself through, he examined the smell again. It was clearly an animal. Still alife. Ugh ... he will have to hunt it down now, even if he's out of practice. 'I won't find anything better in these disgusting streets, anyways'
Inside it was dark. There were no cracks in the walls, where light could be seeping in, to reflect of his eyes, so he could see better. Slowly Loki advanced forwards, his whiskers helping him not to bump into anything. All of a sudden something big and hairy, dashed by him. Instinctively he raced after it. The animal stopped and when two black eyes stared back at him, he knew something was wrong. The rat, yes rat, why hasn't he noticed earlier, wasn't giving away the scent of fear. It was by far one of the biggest rats he has ever seen (you never know what things you can find under the Thunder Gods bed, with all the food he keeps in his chambers).
He wasn't a kitten, but also a big cat. Like his Asgardian form, he wasn't bulky like Thor but rather lean and swift. In Asgard, he often got sneered at, because of it, but he preferred it that way, it went well with his fighting style. Sure, there were times he wished to be more like them, like Thor, but that was mostly to get his father's approval. Now he knew he could never get it in the first place, no matter what he had done.
Right now, when the beast pounced on him, he wished for it the first time in a very long while. Whirling around he tried to shake the creature of his back, pain crawling down every fiber of his being when sharp little teeth bore themself into his flank. An overwhelming warmth radiated from the freshly made wound, as blood streamed down his side. With a strong shook from him, the rat went skittering down on the ground. It made a hissing sound, at which he could see the two bloodied fangs in its mouth. Its eyes glistered with bloodthirst as it pounced again. This time the impact made Loki fall on his back, hissing as his injured side hit the ground. The beast was on top of him in a second, as he kicked his hind legs, claws sheathed, repeatedly against its stomach. With a precise kick, he sliced open the underside of the rat. It shrieked and jumped off of him, but not before landing a bite on his left ear. It burned but he could handle it. Jumping at the rat he struck its head with his sharp claws. It squeaked when a blow landed on one of its eyes. When it struggled to get away Loki bit into its throat, sinking his fangs into the soft flesh, feeling blood on his tongue. The creature twitched a few times before it stayed still and Loki extracted his teeth.
Panting he lay down in front of, the now dead, rodent. He wouldn't consider a rat a worthy meal and knew he should continue searching for something less likely to give him some Midgardian illness he wasn't aware of. But, to put it simply, he was tired. First, the loss of his seidr, then the looked apartment, the flowerpot, and now the fight with the rat. Considering that he had also fought with the Avengers before all of this started, he deserved some rest.
Dragging the rat with him to an alley, wasn't a simple task. His hurting muscles reminded him of the blood still streaming down his side. After he settled down near some box, he took the first bite of his meal.
It tasted awful. Like dirt and trash mixed together. Swallowing it down, he hissed. Why does he lower himself to such a level as a dirty pig, eating everything it can get. He's a prince, not a filthy street animal.
After some more bites, he decided his hunger must have stilled and he pushed away the rest of the corpse. He overcame his ego one more time and drank a bit from a puddle nearby.
Stalking back to his box, yes he claimed it for the moment, he sat down and started cleaning his wounds. Before he knew, he managed to fall into a deep slumber.
***
The next day after Loki's attack, Clint strolled down the streets, looking for a new pair of purple-tinted glasses. Maybe he will also buy himself a new jacket or shirt, or maybe both. It doesn't matter anyway, after all, he stole some of Stark's money, he meant borrowed. The man is a billionaire, what would a few dollars mean to him.
Well for Clint it would mean a pair of new glasses, a jacket, and a few shirts.
Noticing something moving in an alley he was passing by, his curiosity spiked. 'Clint, move forward, you idiot, it's probably just a mouse.' and ' Think of the new glasses, Clint' came to his mind. Turning around...
...Clint walked into the alley.
There on the ground, he spotted a little ball of black fur, rolled in on itself, with a few spots painted red. It was definitely a cat.
As quietly as he could he crept nearer. Yes, it was injured. Kicking away the half-eaten rat ( Eewww ) he grabbed it at the nape of its neck, and as carefully as he could, he lifted it up.
***
Jolting out of his sleep as someone grabbed him, he looked up and meowed. His vision was slightly blurred, but he could make out the vague shape of a human. Huh, interesting, its face seemed to him somehow familiar.
" 'ey there kitty, 'ow are you" is what it said, at least what he heart, before falling again in a peaceful sleep.
***
After a moment of thinking over his options, Clint settled the cat in his arms and made his way back to the Tower.
His shopping trip complietly forgotten.