A Falling Bluebird

Courtesan

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Mad creatures crowded over Loki, their faces hidden behind masks and pieces of worn cloth. They weren't strong, nor particularly troublesome by themselves, but with what felt like a hundred swarming and a net cast over him and Loki was finding it hard to keep his eyes open anyway and-

The woman had made a dramatic entrance.

Her vehicle swooped in low overhead, singing his hair. It looked unwieldy and plain, compared to the spoils of Asgard, but her ship was shining new in this alien scrap heap.

Loki struggled to his feet. Or tried to. His efforts were met with a boot in the stomach, after which he lay still. At least he could still observe from his position on the floor. It wasn't very comfortable, but at least he had a front row seat for whatever was about to 'go down'.

With a clunk and ominous whirring, doors pulled back and a silver ramp extended. The woman was revealed. Even from where Loki lay, he could smell alcohol. It was like a fist to his nose and he coughed involuntarily, eyes beginning to water.

About him, the crowd murmured and milled. A leader emerged, weapon in hand. Or maybe it was just a rusty stick – there really was no telling. Things were bad if he had been captured by some savages with sticks.

"He's mine."

Loki shook away his thoughts and looked up at the woman. She had a bottle in hand and was swaying enough to indicate there was a mountain of similar receptacles somewhere. She started to strut down the ramp. And promptly fell off.

So much for rescue, then.

A section of the crowd of... whatever they were started towards her and he would swear that one said; "Look! More food".

Cannibals, lovely. But an idea sprung from the images of being eaten alive that his imagination decided to conjure up.

"Wait!" He yelled, managed to catch the attention of a few. That would have to do. "I'm poisonous." Oh, he hoped they were as dumb as they looked. "Very, very poisonous!!"

Some recoiled, more blankly stared at him and the rest continued towards the woman. If she couldn't defend herself, that was her problem. Which left him with what was probably half of the cannibals.

"If you eat me, you'll die." He tried to explain as he had when teaching Thor; as if to someone lacking a brain. From the look of them, it may have been an accurate assumption.

One – with the maybe-gun maybe-stick – scrunched up its face. Evidently, thinking hurt these creatures. "But... No! You lie. Poison food is colourful!"

"I am very colourful," Loki said, glowering and with no idea what sort of threat that was, but it didn't matter. The woman was still alive, somehow, and seemed to be back in action.

"Wait!" She hauled herself to her feet. "Wait." She was finally upright but still holding onto some dead beast for support. "He's mine. So if you want him, you go through me."

Pointy-stick-man struggled with that for a second, but managed to speak again, wonder of wonders. "We've already got him."

"Alright. Then I guess I'll go through you." She shrugged and bashed her gauntlets together. Nothing happened.

The savages seemed to laugh, but she did it again and sparks flew. Again, again and then light flickered up in circles about her arms and what appeared to be just pillars of metal on her ship heaved, cracked into position. A hail of bolts later and the cannibals fell, ripped apart and spewing blood and their insides and splinters of bone.