Chapter 3
[My POV]
I wake up early everyday despite that I graduated early, but I still have a job on the farm. After my chores are, I make breakfast and start humming a song that's in my head. I keep my gun in my thigh holester, remembering the stranger in my house. Soft footfalls reach my ears as I cook, I stop humming and whisper, "Speak of the devil." I turn to man who I had helped the day before.
[Loki's POV]
I wake up in a bed that isn't mine. As I get up, the memories of yesterday fill my head. As I count my fingers I think, " Let's see... 1. Failed miserably trying to take earth, 2. Jailed, and 3. I remember being cast out of Asgard. After that, not much, except for my leg hurting. I check my leg, only to see it bandaged rather neatly. " Where am I?" I look around the room for a door as I whisper, so I don't alert anyone that might hear me. I get off the bed, open the door, and creep down the hall towards the humming I hear. Making my shoeless feet as quiet as I can. Once I am at the end if the hall to, what I pressume is the kitchen, I hear a comment of " Speak of the devil." from a woman at the stove, cooking. She turns to face me, gun present on her thigh as she takes off her apron. "Morning sleepy head" she says with a smile, but I can see under her confidence is nervousness. But all I say is, " I am not a devil..." and keep quiet with a stern look on my face ( i.e indifference).
[My POV]
" I didn't mean literally." I chuckled despite my past nervousness. Of course, I know who this now. He was all over the news a year ago, Loki, god of Mischief, my mind supplies. " Sit, I am sure you have questions." I gesture to the chair at the table, as I turn off the stove, food forgotten at the moment. He sits down as I do the same and asks " Where am I?" " California." I say, he gives me light glare and I inwardly chuckled. " What relm am I in?" he asks with little irritation and patience. I raise my brow and say "Earth" He looks at me with little satisfaction, but satisfaction much less. " My turn, who are you?" I say sternly. He lifts his brow at my bluntnes, "Well?" I state as he stares at me, as if I should know, which I do, but I want him to tell me. " I am Loki, god of Mischief " he says.
"That's better" I half yell, almost startling him. " My name is Luka Sprice. Now, wanna tell me what you're going to do now?" " Why should I?" he retorts. " Well where the hell else ya gonna go. By the look on your face and your obvious confusion of not knowing where you are, that suggest that, I don't think you're here to cause a another invasion or go back to where you came from, by your less graceful entry," I say, my southern accent leaks a bit. I hear him mumble " I suppose not all Midgardians are idiots.." I chuckle at the half complement, as I get up to clean my mess from earlier. He watches my movements and sighs. " I honestly don't know." he says, a bit irritated. He contemplates with himself, more than with me. " I don't want to attract attention of my oaf of a brother and his 'merry' band of bafoons." " You could stay here." I say nonchalantly, as I wash my dishes. He looks caught off guard for moment, when I turn to look at him briefly, but he quickly covers it. " Why would you?" Mama and Dad always said I was a little too nice for my own good. I dry my hands, lean on the sink crossing my arms, and say " Well you could be easily recognizable in a highly populated area. You kinda know me better than you know any other human on earth. I have the room and I need the help. Anyone rarely visits, unless it's a few folks wanting ride horses, but they call ahead. You can start as farmhand under the radar, so the "Avengers". I use quotation fingers annoyingly and Loki picks that up. Loki thinks it over for a few minutes. His answer surprises both of us. " Alright...".
