Loki Carrot
Based of the RP I never got to do :( I was intending on writing a Thor and Loki story after the disappointed ThunderFrost fangirls during my other story but I found the plot line of this far too interesting. As for the name the point of it was that no one would be searching for Loki Carrot on Omegle so we could find each other if one of our computers lost the site/connection. I was going to give the story a decent name but found this one so much more amusing. The title name that goes with the summery is different because it was too strange. And thus began the FrostIron story that is unofficially known as Loki Carrot
Chapter 1 - Luck
Loki nursed gash in his lower torso with pulsating fingers. The breath of night prickled his skin, adding a swore numbness to his already beaten frame. That of him which was not crimson was a muted anemic, more so than ever before. A blue hue had consumed his lips and from there on patches emerged from the depth of his skin, causing him to feel repulsed - as if he needed another tormentor. His entire frame rattled from fatigue, quivering in the most pitiful manor. Oh, if only Thor had seen him! How the older would mock his weakness as he so frequently did in their childhood. The very reminder of his arrogant smile churned Loki's bleeding stomach, threatening to spill it's little content.
Every impulse in his mind alerted him of danger, fueling his trembling, weakened body with adrenaline, the very power that allowed his eyelids to remain poised, his thoughts somewhat vigilant. He couldn't sleep, couldn't allow himself the luxury of dreams in fear of never waking. His nerves screamed for mercy, the very words forming on his tongue that his mind had long since rejected. Loki heaved himself up from the bunched position he had naturally curled into. A heavy collar still clutched his slender neck, a sickly adaptation of the mortals design. Whilst it failed to diminish his magic it severely weakened it, causing him to feel torpid. They must have miscalculated his ability, for when he struck them he relished in the ghoulish pleasure of watching each and every face that had dared a snarl in his direction contort with fear. He loathed each and every Asgardian - give that of Frigga, being the only soul alive to treat him consistently with kindness.
A violent convulsion struck his body, blood spewing from the weaves between his sewn lips, his mind wavering. Unable to cope with this distorted reality. Failing to concentrate. Vision blurring. Sanity ebbing away, the only reminder screaming, 'Remove the collar! Get up and keep moving! If you don't, they will find you. If they don't, they will kill you.'. Loki scrabbled at the contracting locks but each time his flesh connected it tightened until he was far too oxygen-deprived to stabilize himself. As the darkness embraced him there was a desperate whine reverberating from within him. The last thought he could manage, no longer caring about his pride, was 'I don't want to die'.
.oOo.
Tony heard a clatter, soft and subtle. He presumed it to be a bird (a very large bird, admittedly, but a bird none the less) but couldn't contain his anxiety. He elected to ignore it, if there was a security breach he could simply kick JARVIS's defense systems online. The mechanism before him clattered into play, hovering only to end a dismal failure, a circuit breaking and the entire invention shattering on the floor. With a grunt of irritation he kicked the majority aside and tinkered with a new prototype, allowing shards of metal and stray bolts to slip under the work benches. Pepper had often scowled him for this habit but in his mind it was good way hording spare pieces for a later date. Tony was mildly aware of the computers attempts to direct his attention but did not acknowledge them until three more machines had perished - parodies of the 'Doom-bots' - by which time he was contemplating rejecting the project file. After all it was only in order to shut SHIELD up, not exactly priority.
"Mr. Stark," The AI repeated, thankfully - in some aspects - not developed with a sense of impatience. It's main function was to convey and translate knowledge. Being querulous would only stand as a disadvantage.
The last chunk of doughnut forced it's way down his throat and his gaze flickered upwards to the nearest security camera, "If it's SHIELD, they can shove it." - he hesitated, glancing at his watch with a frown, "And if it's Pepper I swear I'm sleeping."
"Sir, I am detecting a life form above us on the rooftops landing pad." The speakers had such a human quality yet the lack of emotion betrayed this. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend the seriousness of the situation when there was no interpretation to be derived from the town or speed, "A large source of energy was transferred momentarily and now a faint life signal has taken its place."
Tony cocked an eyebrow inquisitively, discarding the model he had been tampering with, "okay so now chance of an attack. When you say faint, do you mean dying?"
"Affirmative, sir. The reading predict there to be a 92.83% probability of fatality."
"Damn..." he removed his heavy-duty gloves and ran a now bare hand through his glossy hair, temple coated in a sheen of sweat, ash and dust, "Okay, can you give me a visual?"
A holographic projector materialized before him, no larger than a laptop screen, and began a live feed connecting from the multiple cameras stationed in an orderly fashion above them. At first he was unable to distinguish the blood-caked fabric and skin from the actual liquid, leaking to engulf the perimeter. Then JARVIS highlighted the features and expanded the screen, revealing with an intoxicatingly sickening realization the creature below blood and blue (What had caused that was a mystery) happened to me a mauled and pitiful Loki. The genius halted, perplexed, and in a sense terrified though not - surprisingly - for his own safety. Last he ha seen the god was on his departure, a silenced and vengeful monster. It appeared his gag had been replaced with thread, traditionally more painful.
But now the facade of leathery hatred had a in a sense evaporated and what lay above him was not the same being that had severely injured a city. This was a helpless person - so heart-wrenchingly delicate. With some difficulty he suppressed the lamp in his throat.
"What medical equipment can we provide?" As the computer droned through a list he paced to the elevator. Once inside he slammed a thumb into the designated button.
He allowed a humorless laugh to slip his lips, "I'm about to save a man who terrorized the planet and attempted genocide. Wish me luck, JARVIS."
"Good luck, Mr. Stark."
.oOo.
Hauling the body indoors was indeed a challenge but one he only objected to with minor grunts, more from the strain of lugging a person then any physical suffering under their weight. (No seriously, did that guy eat?) However, doing so without leaking blood and staining the carpets was virtually impossible. A trail of the foul fluid was left in his wake and he came to the realization of just how much Loki was loosing. Half dragging the god into the nearest lab - compact and adjacent to his spare bedroom - he lay them down onto a bench suspiciously and hovered quizzically.
Never before had he laid eyes on a more damaged person. It was evident most his bones -certainly several ribs -were either shattered or had previously been. Markings of all shapes and sizes littered the body, patterning his skin. Scars laced with scars, blood and puss oozing. Wounds molded and decaying. Several scabs growing into and over the tight fabric. His flesh had become a slickly blue and bitingly cold, a rather queer appearance. He contemplated asking Thor but the prince would insist on returning his brother to Asgard. At least, that was what he assumed. It was he who had dragged them away before.
"JARVIS, using the data you collected, is it possible to block or track any similar occurrences?"
A whirring of machinery before they replied, "With the electricity needed it will leave Stark Towers relying on generators for approximately 23.4 hours, but it is indeed possible."
"Perfect...-ish," The genius clapped his hands together and rubbed them warmly, "commence immediately."
"Affirmative, sir."
.oOo.
Loki awoke to a world in which he did not belong. The sensation of substance against his back was foreign after being strung up for so long. Through his eyelids filtered a pure light, intense after the dark squander he was imprisoned. This must have been one of the medical facilities Thor had mentioned on his first and indeed last visit to the holding chambers before punishment. (It wasn't that he was unable to enter the torture chamber physically, but the coward was unable to face his brother, something Loki would forever hold against him.) It was sanitized with an underlay of metallic tang, much to the displeasure of his senses.
He was numb and swore, tubes snaking around and frighteningly inside him. Fluttering his eyes open - wincing momentarily at the naked bulb suspended above him - Loki scrutinized his environment, desperate to remain static so as to lessen his pained body. Strangely this sensation was dialoted, though if this was a mortals medicine or his instinctive magic he did not know.
"Hey there, Snow White."
No. It couldn't be. He froze at the oh-so-familiar voice behind him, begging to all the stars he was mistaken. Of course no luck shone upon a man deviating from the moral path. The monumental sing-song interrupted his thoughts, complaining about the Jotuns disrespect towards him. And at that point, their was no denying it. The man who had roused him from unconsciousness and eased his agony was the well-renown 'Man of iron'. Tony Stark.
Tony Stark had saved his life.