pullmeoutalive | A comic book indeed.

[ Leif Helgarson is nothing if not patient. For a thousand years he has waited for this- the day that he finally gets revenge. The day they sneak into Asgard. The day he kills Thor.

Unfortunately, that day was tomorrow, but what was one more night after a thousand years? He'd just slaughtered a whole mess of young vampires intent on invading his territory (his territory being the entire state of Arizona), and now he had the rest of the evening to kill- figuratively speaking. Just as well since something his Druid friend, Atticus, mentioned to him has his interest piqued: Atticus had said that Thor was a comic book.

Why anyone would want to make a comic book about that arrogant, self-centered--- well, why anyone would want to make a comic book about Thor was beyond him. And so the vampire spent the evening in his office at the law firm of Magnusson and Hauk in front of his laptop doing a few idle searches.

Ah. Now he understood. Complete and utter ignorance was why there was a comic book about Thor. This selfless, heroic character was the polar opposite of the real Thor. ]

You will get your comeuppance, God of Thunder. I can promise you that.

[ Not that Leif was one to talk to himself, but he figures he's allowed a little bit at this point. ]

Threaded | Flat

[Some people, more scientifically-minded, would say that Asgardian magic is nothing more than the ability to manipulate a special kind of energy, a task that is impossible for mankind but second nature for many of the Aesir. Perhaps it runs on a different wavelength, a different frequency, a different something that is foreign to the natives of Midgard; still, they would continue to argue that it was more science than magic, and in theory could be just as calculated in its delivery.

Loki would say no such thing. It was energy, and yes, it was something to be manipulated, but there was nothing sterile and scientific about it. It had a life of its own, and even a master of magic could find themselves pulled along by its whims. Fortune herself would make sure that the reins were not always firmly in your hands.

Such must be the case today. Because Loki is fairly certain that he did not mean to randomly appear in a rush of wind and an almost-explosion of green magic, especially not in the middle of a mortal stranger's office.

But he does, so much that the magic has him crouched down and on one knee, as if being pushed down by the initial force. Give him a second to catch his breath in surprise, because that was... unexpected.]

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