Mischief on Midgard

Robert

Loki seethed in annoyance. Two months. He had been here two months and all he had found was junk!

The salvaging crew had continued bringing in random stuff from the battle site and after a time spent sorting through the debris, they would dispose of most of it in ways that were considered safe. Well, most of it was disposed of. There was a single crew member that had horded various bits and pieces for himself and had thus gained Loki's interest. A man called Phineas Mason. Said individual had what looked like a little miniature lab set up within the warehouse and had started to poke and prod at the Chitauri pieces, mixing them with Earth technology.

The results had been interesting, yes, but were still only mere toys compared to what Loki was used to.

Loki had started to consider the possibility of making his presence known to the workers. So far he had made sure that none of them salvaging crew could see him. For now though, he forced himself to calm. Though he'd not had any luck himself in finding what he wanted to build what he needed, he decided that he would continue to observe the group. Perhaps they would be useful to him in other ways.

Right on time, as per the usual over the past two months, the doors opened to make way for the truck. Loki slipped into his usual hiding place, a spot above and behind at the junk where they wouldn't even bother to look and took a big bite out of a hot pocket that he had stolen from the fridge.

He had to eat now after all and it was oh so kind of the Midgardians to keep the 'fridge' stocked for him.

Just as he swallowed his bite, a huge shout followed by a loud 'clang' filled the air.

"BASTARDS!"

Loki fell completely silent. Why... that was a different response than the usual call to get to work. The man's rage was almost palatable! His little group of Humans usually seemed rather happy whenever he had seen them. Apparently, from what he'd gleaned from prior conversations, they considered this job a big break for them. A 'windfall' or some such.

"Easy Adrian," Phineas spoke as he approached said individual. "Don't wanna break a toe kicking things now."

A bit of silence passed, relative silence really as he could hear the occasional muttering, and then another man by the name of Herman Schultz, a large man with dark skin, shouted. Familiar indignation rang through the building and Loki had to smile. This same incident had played out multiple times now. He leaned back to enjoy the little comedy skit that his presence, and subsequent food theft, had caused.

"Okay! Who the hell keeps taking my hot pockets?!" he exclaimed angrily and another 'slam' filled the air. "JACKSON!"

And Jackson groaned in response.

Right on time, Loki thought.

"Look, I told you once and I've told you a thousand times by now," by Loki's count he was only up to around a hundred-fifty actually, but he wouldn't hold an inability to count against the Midgardian, "I don't want to eat your stupid hot pockets! Those things are nasty! No one here wants to eat them except you!"

"Then explain how they keep on going missing!" Herman shouted back.

"Oh, that's easy; you eat them you stupid idiot!" Jackson yelled back.

"THAT'S THE DAMN ISSUE! I DON'T EAT THEM!" Herman shouted back and Loki chuckled, highly amused by the verbal conflict. He finished off the hot pocket in his hand without feeling even an ounce of guilt and then moved a little closer so he could get watch the group.