The process of overhauling any well-established currency is, without a doubt, a long and tedious process -- even for those not directly involved, nor directly affected. It creates ripples which resonate throughout every economy with a stake -- from allies, to trading partners, to bitter enemies.
And so it is that when three new helicarriers -- a product of an unwitting and beautifully insidious collaboration between two sides of the aforementioned currency's coin -- had come crashing down into the Potomac river, even Loki Frigguson, unofficial (and largely unknown) king of a world on the other side of the galaxy, had felt the waves lap up about his ankles.
For he, too, had lost something in the flood -- unwitting shareholder that he had been -- since the one who had assured him that the value of this newly-revealed stock could rival anything already in the god's possession had, much to the ire of his survivor, taken all of his intelligence to a watery grave.
And so it is with an air of bitter resignation, wrapped in porcelain arrogance and a thin veneer of propriety -- that the god-king turns to one of very few people who might not only have the means to aid him, but who... perhaps... will. The fetid stink of blood and decay hangs heavy in the morning heat as Loki approaches the police tape, and flies buzz lazily past the tall stranger, sable-clad from his collared shirt to the tips of immaculately polished shoes that seem to stay clean regardless of the terrain.
A voice shouts at him that he isn't allowed to be there, and he turns toward its owner, and s m i l e s. "I wish to to speak with Mr. William Graham," he says, voice as cold and sweet as death itself. "At his earliest convenience." The officer protests that the man is currently occupied, and Loki's smile grows more saccharine, and less friendly.
"Inform him, if you would be so kind."
The officer hesitates, and is about to protest again, when Loki's smile splits into a startlingly cruel grin.
"...or I shall do so myself."
The officer clenches their teeth for a moment... then turns, and walks off in the direction of the empath and the corpses under his scrutiny, as Loki watches with an air of self-satisfaction and distaste.
