Well, it's been a while, sorry. Mostly because of nanowrimo and school, and so it still isn't a very long chapter, but at least it's a chapter? :D
So yeah, Sherlock was tracing the signal that was sending aliens into the street and that's basically it.
Sherlock closely examined the computers in the middle of the room.
They radiated a white light that illuminated Clint, who wasn't taking his eyes of every entrance he could find.
The computers quickly flashed through programming screens.
Encouraged by a rattling keyboard, they were searching. Looking for the source, looking for anything that would help those who needed it.
And since it was Sherlock manning the keyboard, it wasn't long before it found something.
'It's coming from the computers,' he murmured. 'It isn't opening the dimensions, it's calling trough them. Now if we could just stop the call, then the stream of aliens might also stop.'
'Sherlock!'
Sherlock kept concentrating on his work, and didn't bother to look up.
A twanging bow, some small thuds, then a bigger one.
Footsteps.
Sherlock sighed. 'Could you please keep my archer alive, I hired him.'
He turned around. 'Oh, how exciting, I get to talk to the god.'
Loki extended his arm and put the staff over the keyboard.
'I don't think so, mortal. These things contain the key to our success. I don't know how they work, but I'm going to need you to back off.'
Sherlock gave a soft push against the staff, and tried to continue typing.
'You don't know how they work?' he scoffed. 'I was expecting someone better, but I guess you'll have to do. Computers are obvious, systematic.'
Loki used the staff to push Sherlock away from the keyboard.
Sherlock wavered on his chair and for a second he looked less like a swan and more like a helpless toddler.
He quickly regained his elegance, and just seemed insulted to be threatened by the staff's end.
'In that case, let me help you,' Loki insisted. 'Stop helping those idiots and think of me. We are a lot alike.'
'Yes, I get that a lot, but it never seems to be true.'
Loki smiled. 'Oh, but we are. We're both ice. Don't you see that nothing in your life makes sense? Your life follows pattern, a story almost. The metal man said so too, didn't he? You have no control over your life, and so you will join me.'
'I'm not so sure. You are the one that follows stories,' Sherlock interrupted. 'I read stories of you when I was a child.'
'So you're still not convinced. Fine then, I'll say it in a way that even you can understand. You and I both think that the rest of the world is an idiot.'
Sherlock didn't get a chance to respond.
The doors opened, and footsteps followed.
'Brother, don't do this.'