—│nótt hræzla│—
bombassbitch:
“You don’t have to sound so goddamned surprised,” he snipped, keeping his arm aloft, cannon pointed at the creature as the dust settled and the smoke cleared. It was still fucking alive, though, and he bit off a curse as he whipped a corner of his shirt up, snagging another explosive and shoving it into the—
but then…? But then, just like that, it was gone, and Hayato was left looking around, a furrow in his brow as his mouth worked around an attempt at a question.
“Where—where the fuck did that thing just—” Hayato started, turning to look at the other man as his arm fell, but he turned just in time to watch the guy disappear, as well, and he gnashed his teeth as he was left alone, surrounded by scorch marks, blood, destruction, and the distinct smell of sulfur as several police cars fishtailed onto his street.
Great.
“Where’d you even go?” Clint asked as Loki stormed back into Avengers Tower, ruffled and irritated.
“Refer to the television,” was his response, and the archer had little time to snap back before Loki had veritably barricaded himself in his room.
What could make something like that just... disappear? He had a lot of research to do, and a lot of old tomes to file through. Yanking one of the boxes out from under his bed, he got to work.
By the obscenely early hours of morning, he still hadn’t found anything but a level of exhaustion which, of course, only exacerbated his irritation.
“Loki.”
In the middle of thumbing through pages, he paused, frown deepening at the sound of his brother’s voice on the other side of the door.
"You didn’t have to leave to defeat it; we can do this together. Like we always have.”
With nothing to say, he continued searching through the old books, and the silence stretched for long enough that he assumed Thor had either left or fallen asleep.
Finally Loki relented, replacing the tomes into the trunk, and taking his leave from the Tower again--or, trying. He was met with a block, as his attempt at teleporting was met with him landing on his ass right back where he’d started.
My apologies, sir, rang an electronic voice inside the room. I’m afraid you cannot leave.
It took him three hours to break Stark’s teleport lock, and one more to reach Japan.
Stepping back onto the quiet street, he knelt, delicately picking through the rubble. Was it even still here...? At this point, he wasn’t even sure what it was. Thankfully he would have time to search, what with the area being roped off with neon police tape, and the hour being as late as it was.
