Life Notes of the Adopted Daughter of Tony Stark

Chapter Two: We Will Be Unbroken (Demons Writhing Behind Your Eyes)

Eight minutes before the scream

Loki attacked first. The Asgardian was light on his feet, but I knew I could out-do him speed wise. He was fighting with a style I wasn't familiar with, but I caught on soon enough. It was a sort of dance; graceful in a violent way; powerful, yet soft. And even though his scepter was used a lot in his attacks, occasionally, he would use his own limbs to lash out at me with magic.

I readied another fighting stance, swerving around him and looking for a blind spot, or even a weakness, however small it may be. Loki struck out with his scepter again to find air. Even though he was faster, I was quicker still. He tried to strike out again, lighting up his scepter. I blocked it with my claws, feeling orange sparks leap out. I leaped back quickly, shaking my hands; I don't like fire.

Loki obviously knew my style of fighting, which was a good knowledge of Hap Kido, Judo, and boxing. He tried mirroring me after a while, only to find himself knocked over with a bolt of lightning. How pathetically... sad. I mean really; this guy is the best some space alien could produce as a military leader?

"Clearly, you have control issues with that electricity of yours still," Loki moaned, standing up.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm like a flippin' storm; I'm as random as it gets," I said, keeping my distance.

"You're still annoying as a storm as ever, too."

"And what exactly does that mean?"

"Let's just say I'm not one for thunder and lightning."

Loki collapsed on the ground as I hit him again. Exasperated, I rose off the ground with a few immense flaps. "Well you should've thought of that before challenging me dumbass." I hovered somewhat, the sunset colored feathers seeming to rage along with me. I stared down at the scepter; Loki was a real bad ass fighter with it, using it as if he had practiced with it all his life. Something told me that that staff was newer addition though.

"But you are, stronger, then before. I like it; it gives you and me a fair advantage finally," Loki growled getting up, blasting a bolt of energy. What is he talking about? I wondered, slashing through the 'bullet,' whirling around and training metal claws toward his face. He was creeping me out, acting like he had always known me, even though there was no way on Earth that I knew this dictator personally. Then again, there was something faintly familiar about him. There was a sliver of possibility we had met in the past, but I just didn't recall it; I just knew it. I shook my head, feeling a headache coming on from all the confusion.

With the confusion gone, I plastered a crafty, hiding smile on my mouth. "Fair advantage, eh? From the looks of it, I can still kick your sorry ass from here to wherever you came from," I thundered back sarcastically with eyes narrowed. "Look creep-o, you may think I'm some servant to command around when you finally get me on my knees—" I paced a few steps around Loki as he took aim at me again." — But here's the truth; I will never bow to you. You are a sick, twisted, and not to mention old fart who isn't in any which way or form my king on this or any world!

Loki 's eyes flashed with rage. "Why you- how dare you respect your future king like that?!" roared Loki. Glancing at his conscious, I caught him thinking, And I am not that old! I smiled. Aggravation-of-others is one of my specialties.

"Oh I dare, Monsieur King, because it seems very easy to frustrate you," I explained simply, bowing mockingly. "And like I said: you are no king of mine."

He raised his staff and soon enough a chariot, occupied by a functioning Chitauri, came flying by. As he hopped on, I rose higher to match his height in the air.