AN: Hey! New chapter for ya! On the right day this time too! I know it might be annoying to be asking for reviews, but it really does give me a good insight to what you like and dislike about the story. So, if you can, please leave a review!

Also here is the dress Ink is wearing for this chapter and the previous one!

art/Ink-chapter-5-dress-510579613

Chapter five

The Apocalyptic Pandas finished their last song and I cheered along with the rest of the crowd. The band had been amazing and their songs were really good. They were a little loud in my opinion, but still amazing.

Out of the two of us, the Apocalyptic Pandas went first. So that meant I was next. I ordered another drink before going on stage. My voice had worked a lot this night and I hoped it wouldn't break during my performance. When the band packed away their instruments, I hopped onto the stage.

"Pretty cool, huh?" I asked the crowd, they cheered in a 'yeah' kind of way. "I think that's gonna be hard to beat, but I might as well try." I turned around and plugged in my music play to the sound system. "I don't know that many Goth songs or bands but this is the creepiest, Gothic song I know." I pressed play and opened my mouth.

I walked out of the Goth club absolutely buzzing. It had been amazing. I wasn't as good as the other band maybe, but it had been good enough to please the crowd. I had been on and off the stage so many times over the night. It was like when I stepped off the stage there were requests to get back on and sing something.

I sighed and gazed into the night. There were lights on everywhere so I couldn't see the stars in the night time. That made my sad. Humans had even polluted the sky.

I waited outside of the Goth bar for what seemed like an age. Gods, where was that fricking taxi? It should be here. I was getting grouchy now. It was too cold after the heat and stuffiness of the club. I grumbled and started walking to the closest bus stop, which wasn't close at all.

I got a bit twitchy after a few minutes of walking. There had been two figures following me for the last few streets. I knew I shouldn't be worried because I could easily fight them off if they tried anything funny.

I turned down a street. The light faded. £$%&, I had turned down the wrong street. I backed up and turned around. I stopped. The two figures that had been following lounged against either side of the alley way. Crap, I didn't want to do this now.

"We saw you make a lot of money tonight," one said. "Hand it over and you'll walk away."

"Petty theft?" I asked. "What will happen if I don't hand over my well earned cash to a couple of low life thieves?"

The guy who had spoken first gestured to his mate, who dug into his pocket and brought out a switch blade.

"Ah," I said. I wasn't scared. You called barely call that a knife compared to what I had seen.

"You call that a knife?" A dark voice asked from the back of the alley. I smiled and turned my head towards the voice. Deadpool stalked out of the darkness with his twin katanas gleaming wickedly at his sides.

I huffed. "I was wondering whether you'd show up tonight or not."

Deadpool reached me and tilted his head towards me. "How was your job, lil' lady?" Something in my head clicked.

"So it was you driving the taxi." I said. He winked at me. During our little conversation, the two would be thieves took one look at Deadpool and his blades and scarpered. "Huh, I don't know if I like having you as my stalker or not." It probably should be not, defiantly not.

"Who said I was your stalker?" He asked.

"Me," I said and started striding out of the alley.

"Hey, wait!" Deadpool said, following me.

"Hm?" I hummed, raising an eyebrow. I started walking in the rough direction of my apartment building. Now I knew Deadpool was walking with me I was just going to walk home. I considered calling Drakki and Hiss, but they would end up flying out a window and smashing said window to get to me. And I couldn't hitch a ride with Deadpool and his teleportation device; there was a charm around the apartment that prevented him from doing so. I paused. It prevented him from teleporting into my apartment, but not the building.

"I've been wondering, how do you get from place to place so fast?" I asked.

"More questions?" He asked me, sounding exasperated.

"Well?" I pushed.

"Teleportation device lil' lady." He said and patted his belt. There were several pouches and endless grenades strapped to it.

"Can you teleport into my apartment?" I asked.

"I used to, and I've been trying, but I can't now." He said.

I coughed.

"Uhh..."

"I placed a protective charm around it. No one, nothing, can get in or out via teleportation." I said.

"How can you place a charm around something?" Deadpool asked.

"I have magic," I said and waved my hand. Electric blue float tendrils of light gathered around it. "My magic forms as either blue light, if I'm charming something or blue bolts of lightning when I want to blast something."

"Magic, like Harry Potter stuff?" He asked.

I threw him a wicked smile. I clapped my hands over my head dramatically. I lowered them and arching between my hands and over my head was a blue bolt of lightning. "Much more powerful then 'Harry Potter stuff'." The lightning crackled and faded. Deadpool kept staring at me. "Anyway, teleportation is one of the disciplines I haven't quite mastered yet so I don't want to end up teleporting into a wall or something. You have that device so... I need a ride."

"But I can't get into the apartment." He reminded me.

"Don't go straight into the apartment, just to the building. I assume you know where it is."

"Of course I do. What kind of mercenary would I be if I didn't about my targets?" Deadpool just said it like a joke and like it didn't send shivers down my spine.

"Right, well take me there." I said.

"Ohh, bossy."

"Well you would be too if the person who tried to kill you not two days ago had a device that did the very same thing as the discipline of magic you can't quite nail." I said quickly, almost running out of breath.

"Still bossy."

I rolled my eyes. "Will you take me or not?"

"Yeah, sure."

"What do I have to do?" I asked. I had only teleported a couple of times, but that was with an advanced enchantress and she had to give me a potion before hand to stop me from throwing up.

"Nothing." Deadpool suddenly turned and grabbed me round the waist, pulling me close to him.

"Hey, what the hell-" I started, but he clicked something on his belt.

Teleporting was a horrible sensation, and it all happened in a few milliseconds. My feet were swept under me. My ears popped. I gasped, but my breath got stolen and I choked. My stomach wrenched the other way and leapt to my throat. My heart was hammering like a humming bird's wings in my chest, and it wasn't all to do with the teleportation I'm embarrassed to say.

My feet hit the ground.

"Excuse me," I barley groaned. I streaked to the side of the closest building and was violently sick. "Never again." I moaned.

Deadpool watched, looking extremely awkward. I thought I heard him arguing with himself but I couldn't be sure. I guess when he grabbed a girl close to him he wasn't expecting said girl to throw up.

"Sorry," I mumbled when I had finished. I wiped my mouth. "I guess I should've told you, teleportation, telekinesis or telepathy doesn't sit well with me." Deadpool didn't say anything. "Well, I'm going to brush my teeth all of three times, want to come in and have a cuppa?" I asked, fishing my keys out of my bag.

"What's a cuppa?" Deadpool asked, back to his old, strange self.

"Oh, right, you're American-"

"Canadian." He corrected.

"-Canadian," I said not missing a beat. "A cuppa is a cup of tea in the not-so-posh-man's-English." I explained. I smiled, "I was raised in a care home up north, in Manchester. I guess I got a bit of an accent from them."

"I feel better knowing that you weren't raised by royalty." Deadpool said.

I laughed, "Me?" I asked. "That's well mint, that." I said with the strongest Manchester accent I could muster. "Stop being such a daft 'apeth!" I laughed at what I could see emotion wise on Deadpool's face.

"What does that mean?"

"Mi stomach thinks mi throats cut!" I leaped inside the door.

"What does that mean?!" He whined.

"What did they cut yer hair with, a knife and fork?" I shouted as I ran up the stairs.

"What does that mean?" Deadpool asked as he followed me.

"What it is right, me boiler's gone out and me 'ouse is dead cold!"

"Ok, ok! I get it; you were in no way raised by royals."

I cackled an opened my apartment door. "Drakki, Hiss, Mr. Rhododendron! I'm 'ome! I bought a friend, so don't eat 'im when 'e comes in ok?" I called with my accent still quite strong.

"Stop with the accent!"

"Don't go to Manchester, then." I heard several grumbles from the living room. The accent had dropped now. "I'm going to do what I said I would do," I said and turned towards my bathroom. "Go in there and don't snoop." I said, gesturing to the living room.

I entered the bathroom and grabbed my toothbrush. I loaded it with toothpaste and shoved the thing in my horrible feeling mouth. I heard a warning growl and a scream from the living room then something got knocked over.

I sighed and walked into the living room. Deadpool was in one corner of the room and my creatures were in the other. I sighed again when I saw what all the fuss was about. There was sanitary towel by a knocked over, small table. I don't know why anyone was panicking about it, it wasn't like it was used or anything.

"Men," I muttered under my breath, or tried to, there was a toothbrush in my mouth. I removed the clean sanitary towel and went back into the bathroom to finish the first brushing of my teeth. All that little episode had told me was that Deadpool had been snooping.

There were going to be reparations later.

I spat out the frothy toothpaste and rinsed my mouth out. I had already begun to feel better. Not good enough though. I loaded up the brush again and shoved it in my mouth.

I went back to the living room and passed into the kitchen. I flicked the button of my very worn out kettle. Deadpool was looking at my enormous bookcase, which was crammed with every book I could get my hands on. There were still a few books floating around that didn't quite fit.

"What's this?" Deadpool asked and pulled out the biggest book on the shelf. It was my big book of magic. It was the one I consulted to when I needed help and it had sticky notes and bits of paper stuck in it for memorable and useful spells. It was also written in Norse Runes.

"My main magic book." I said but with the toothbrush in my mouth it sounded like: "Ma maim mamik mookch."

"Yep, didn't understand a word of that."

I grumbled. I spat the toothpaste out and rinsed my mouth out in the kitchen sink.

"I said it's my main magic book. It's written in Norse Runes."

"Why?"

"I thought you knew this." I said. "Didn't your client tell you all about me?"

"No, just your name, where you lived and what you looked like." He said.

"Oh, what name do you know me by?" I asked and took the book off him. Man! That was heavy!

"Why are you asking, lil' lady?"

"Because I have three names. The name I was given is Ink Avilov Rabinovich, the name the public gave me it The Jotun and my true name is Ink Avilov Rabinovich... Lokidottir." I said, not looking at him. "I'm the half human daughter of Loki, the Norse god of mischief and lies."