Full Tilt Divas

Rating: T for violence, profanity, explosions, aliens, sexual innuendo, all that good stuff
Characters/Pairings: This chapter will be Loki-centric. AU!Loki, Au!Tony Stark, AU!Everybody, Regular!Tony Stark. Will lean towards Frostiron but will be mild until later on.
Disclaimer: Everything Marvel owns is everything Marvel owns.
Notes: Every now and then, this fic will have various fillers that tie in with the plot or provide a breather. Some will be chronological, some not, some will be amusing one-shots, and some will be flashbacks. This interlude falls into that last category in which Loki encountered Anthony - or rather, when Anthony started barging in uninvited.

There have been many within his company that have questioned where Lucas Lawson – young business prodigy and CEO of Infinity Industries – had obtained such a clean, sustainable and incredibly mystifying energy source. As a matter of fact, there have been many within his company itself that dared try to steal this energy source – and when that failed, mimic it long enough to take the real thing.

The mere fact that it could be mimicked was a dangerous sign and a signal that caution must be taken. To make matters the more worse, it was apparently far from a difficult process to replicate such a strange element.

Hypocritical, considering he was just a face amongst those select curious individuals.

(Hypocrisy was only human; flaw was human, he told himself constantly.)

But why should he be bitter that mankind at their core craved power and knowledge to such levels where they would tamper with things meant to be left untouched? Was it because he usually found himself caught in the crossfire – or better yet, targeted at the very center of it all? Lady Luck certainly seemed to think little of him during many of their courtships – or maybe she knew better of him than to be so kind in return.

There were moments that science refused to be probed at like a common albino lab rat, but Lucas Lawson never did know how to leave science as it is.

Come to think of it, none of the men in his family left science as it was.

He learned that the hard way as he remembered a smile so similar to his own, before he who owned it departed, greedy hands holding a blue and dripping in a red that both they shared.

Come to think of it, he didn't want to think of it.

Lucas, more famous to the public as Loki and the Iron Man, pursed his lips together tightly as he continued staring at the small, faintly glowing round, rough-cut stone resting within a three-pronged elevated support on his desk within the dark of his personal laboratory. He loosened the green tie around the neck of his black shirt with his right hand, before he bent down and leaned closer towards the crystal, lifting up the device in his left hand while doing so.

The device beeped and blipped, and Loki glanced momentarily to one of the floating screens he had next to the object he was currently analyzing. The radiation readings were erratic, dipping more than they rose. Frowning, Loki focused back on the crystal, watching its icy blue aura pulse weakly, physical appearance almost identical to frozen carbon dioxide as its strange gases leaked out and trailed to the floor.

A sigh, weary than it was disappointed, left Loki's mouth. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. At this rate, he estimated it would last no longer than another small blast out of one of the hand repulsors of Model IV's armour – and with these pesky and suspicious insect drones cluttering the skies and the streets of Manhattan, he could not afford to lose much more of this source of power.

Was it the suit itself? For reasons involving hostiles gallivanting about this part of the United States of America, Loki had to have everything from his personal armoury flown in from the mansion back in Malibu. He had remembered turning every knob at each source slot on the suit, and pulling out each rounded crystal he had left in each one before analyzing their power levels. From the Mark I (the replica, which he didn't like to talk about next to the original) to the Mark III, each one had drained these things at equal percentages of loss.

Really, he should have known better than to assume that this was how it was going to go. While he had managed to obtain such a clean, sustainable and incredibly mystifying energy source to study in accordance to using it as a means to boost a perfectly crafted, powered outer shell out of titanium and gold alloy – it was far from renewable as a resource.

The device he was holding suddenly let loose a long, sustained beep, and the graphs in front of him spiked, multiplying the crystal's original readings by more triple in percent.

Loki's eyes widened considerably and his jaw became slack. Had he finally found a way to recharge it?

"Darling," the man gasped, never glancing away from the crystal in front of him. "Please tell me that I've found something at last."

His female artificial intelligence – more human than computer, he liked to boast – responded rather belatedly.

"I will tell you that you've found something at last, Master," the AI known as SIGYN answered. "But it might not be what you are looking for."

This did nothing to alleviate Loki's barely contained excitement as he whipped his head up impulsively. Did he look in a mood to solve riddles? He opened his mouth to reprimand the AI and threaten to re-program her with the charm and brilliance of a bubbly high school cheerleader – when the shadow of a figure across the lab caught his gaze.

Elation dissolved almost instantly as Loki's blood went cold. He took a deep breath before he spoke again.

"Lights, 70%."

The dark lab illuminated just enough to reveal the identity of said shadow – or rather, confirm that the shadow was indeed who Loki knew it was.

There, right before him, stood the man that dared call himself a god, who boasted how he was superior in every way yet looked no different from the human race –his dark, tousled and untamed hair tied back, his ears not pointed or missing like the sci-fi stereotype of intergalactic creatures, and the colour of oak within his irises (the only hint of abnormality being the red flecks within them that Loki had seen completely overtake the brown every now and then). His body – garbed in dark and bright hues of fire, leathers with straps and buckles, armour pieces in red and gold – probably looked just as human underneath all of that, but seeing as he had five fingers on his two hands, the need for such measures to confirm that was unnecessary.

The grooves and lines on his visage creased and moved in accordance with how human wrinkles worked when the higher being shot the billionaire a wide but pressed smile, crooked and cunning and a sure sign that this may not end in his favour.

"You certainly look happy to see me," the so-called god said, his voice lackadaisical and far too casual for comfort.

There was a moment's hesitation before Loki returned the expression, lifting his chin up assertively.

"I'm not quite sure 'happy' is the correct term," Loki replied. His own smile, a far cry from welcoming, quirked at a single corner. "But I will say it's quite relieving to have you where I can see you."

Here the god gasped, as though taken by pleasant surprise. He blinked (blinked, because gods do not bat their eyelashes; after all, how undignified would that be?) and rested a hand over his chest, fingers covering the light that spilled freely from a peculiar (most likely decorative) gem set on the gold chestpiece.

"Aww, I'm touched," this god did drawl. "As you probably have guessed, I love putting on a show for the crowd, and I'm not a big fan of giving one for a lone individual because judging from whatever crawled up your ass and died, you'd think you weren't getting your gold's worth. But whaddaya know, look at that! I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Loki's laugh was curt and condescending.

"Don't get used to it," he responded icily. He stopped hunching over the crystal and stood, brow arched coyly and an unsympathetic smirk coming into light. "I will take this time to compliment your lips, though. Such a shame your brother had to seal them shut; wouldn't you agree?"

The smile on the god's face soured considerably, scarred and pierced mouth becoming lopsided.

"Without a doubt," he retorted through clenched teeth.

Loki chuckled.

That's when he dropped the scanner down and reached forward – just as the god raised a finger.

"Oh, speaking of events that relate to the past; if you even touch that thing to shoot at me again, I'm sorry, but I'm going to make sure you splatter when I hurl you off this tower's roof."

Loki's hand froze centimeters, only centimeters, only centimeters, away from the crystal.

Cursing softly under his breath, he levelled his gaze with the god's own. The Asgardian's expression was smug, becoming more so when Loki's arm slowly lowered away from the gem. He began to speak again, his words far too quick for a being that should not know how to speak such a fluent and common bastardization of the English language.

"Seriously, Lucas – it's Lucas, right? Yeah, I remember now, the Son of Law. The Hawk said 'Loki' but I'm really not gonna call you 'Loki' because you're a blasphemous moron for thinking you're entitled to use that name, but alright then, just checking. But seriously, no offering me drinks this time? Not that I'm here for that, but – "

"SIGYN?" Loki interjected.

This seemed to shut the god up and throw him off.

"Yes, Master?"

Actually, that seemed to shut the god up as he startled even more. He glanced with rapt suspicion and curiosity, hands raised and tinted with an orange glow far too soft to convey how threatening it could be. Loki beckoned towards the god.

"How did you let this 'Anthony Stark' get in here?"

"There appears to have been a breach and an overwriting of security protocols, Master."

The god called Anthony looked back towards the other man in the room with a cocked brow.

"Sigyn?" Anthony repeated.

"SIGYN," Loki repeated back.

This appeared to answer nothing as Anthony's puzzlement grew, evident by the way he blinked and frowned cautiously.

His mouth moved to speak, but Loki spoke faster.

"And before you ask – no, that is not sorcery."

The mouth was closed only a brief second before Anthony rolled his eyes, jerking an arm upwards at the ceiling.

"Okay, so what is it then, Lawson – a wandering spirit?"

Here Loki allowed himself to smirk at a fraction.

"You could say that; a sentient, insightful girl you'll need. I like to think myself most lucky and utterly romanced when she's near."

The god snorted.

"Good luck keeping it that way."

Loki's expression hardened again.

"How did you get in here?" he demanded.

The god dared to shrug back at him in response.

"Back door."

It was Loki's turn to look puzzled and to echo.

"Back door?"

Anthony frowned again. He looked upwards to the left, hand halfway extended as though he had intentionally stopped it mid-gesture. Well, that appeared to be the case when his palm extended out and he met Loki's gaze again.

"Isn't that what you call it? You call it the 'back door', right? It's a term for..."

Then he stopped again. He clicked his tongue before rolling behind his teeth and against the roof of his mouth, humming in contemplation. Deciding it was not worth mulling over another second, his hand dropped with a slight groan of disappointment.

"Well, I'm gonna have to study that language a little bit more then, seeing as it's something spawned out of how you humans make your machines – "

That was when Loki realized what Anthony had meant.

His eyes bulged, and his chest puffed up. Never had he felt so cheated by fate, destiny, and things that were not in the least bit human than now.

"You breached my systems with magic?" Loki hissed.

"Not magic," Anthony quickly countered, raising a finger to correct the man – then thought better of it, simply shrugging again. "Well, okay, yeah, magic. But not really. Kind of, actually; I pretty much just spoke your machines' language and stepped right on in through an open door of opportunity without being detected."

He gave a short laugh before he licked his lips.

"It's a fascinating tongue, though, like really fascinating." Anthony stretched out his arms, grinning as though he was truly absorbing his surroundings of all the unfamiliar Earth technology about the lab. "If I had the capacity to memorize non-sentient languages, I would totally get on this. Just one question – how in all Hells does this machine know how to speak perfectly good English too if it's non-sentient?"

It was awfully tempting to point out how SIGYN certainly spoke better English than this fool of a mythological deity did.

"I don't need to tell you that," Loki answered back curtly.

Anthony gave a smirk.

"Then I don't need to tell you anything either, Man of Iron."

The Man of Iron was not amuse.

A key was pressed on one of Loki's keyboards, and the holographic screens vanished. He stepped off the elevated area within the room, walking slowly towards Anthony.

"Do not take me for a fool, Anthony Stark," Loki warned. He stopped only a few good feet away from the god just enough so that the crystal was still in arm's reach if he turned around. "As long as you're here, I demand answers."

This only prompted more laughter from Anthony as he threw back his head in disbelief.

"Demand? Demand? Oh, look what we've got here. A little man playing the 'tough guy', are you?"

At this, Loki straightened himself at his full height, challenging Anthony's perception on which one of them was indeed the little man.

"I doubt it is I who is feigning bravado in this situation, Stark."

Anthony's feet lifted off the ground as he levitated enough so that they were eye-level. He stuck out his tongue childishly, and Loki glowered at him.

"Understand that while you may have learned black hat hacking in a day, I have learned how to execute it as well as repair it for years. I can overwrite the compromised code you implemented with the slightest wave of my hand. I can have SHIELD and the Avengers here with the quickest snap of my fingers."

"Except you're not," Anthony retorted.

"I can – "

"Except you're not."

"And will if you don't start talking – "

"And it's weird because you really should – "

"Then I won't hesitate to – "

"Unless you don't actually want to," Anthony growled.

Any words that Loki was supposed summon forth died at the tip of his tongue as he halted abruptly. Anthony placed a hand on his chin as he hummed.

"Which brings up a really interesting question; why would you not want to summon your dysfunctional band pretending to be heroes?" He beamed brightly. "Is it because you've finally decided that I'm actually not that bad, incredibly charming, and worthy of being offered a drink again?"

The lightheartedness of his smile extinguished.

"Or maybe, is it maybe because I might know something that you don't?"

Well...perhaps this god wasn't such a fool after all.

A dry chuckle was used to cover up any traces of guilt he may have displayed.

"And what possesses you to think that, Stark?" Loki inquired.

Anthony floated forward, and Loki did his best not to act on impulse and grab the crystal behind him when the god craned his neck forward.

"Because you're not doing anything," he sneered. "And the only thing you're doing right now that explains why you're not doing anything is that you're demanding answersthat you know are answers only I have."

Loki's breath hitched.

No. He would say nothing. He refused to say anything.

The god grinned wickedly.

"Is that it?" Anthony murmured, confidence spilling out of his lips in the form of his testing drawl. He leaned closer to the human, brown eyes shifting to red gradually as they stared straight into Loki's viridian irises. "That maybe, just maybe, I've got something you absolutely just have to get your hands on?"

His gaze became half-lidded, and this was when Loki knew he needed to say something back.

"Do you even have the capability to stop talking, godling?" he snapped.

That seemed to do the trick as Anthony's smirk reversed its vertical positioning.

"No. Do you even have the capability to stop being a brat, mortal?" he leered.

It was then that Loki's patience dipped dramatically as he snarled and lunged forward without warning.

Anthony's eyes widened as hands slammed forward into his chest, gripping the lapels and forcibly shoving him back against the nearest wall. He grunted upon impact, looking up at the black-haired man baring his teeth down at him, and Loki was briefly reminded of a cat stalking its prey.

The deity genuinely looked taken aback – but briefly before he snickered.

"I'm getting the feeling you don't really learn your lesson the first time around, and trust me for a second here – which is asking for a lot, I know, my ledger for sincerity isn't something I'm proud of either. Well, no, that's not true, I just possess a huge lack of absolute regard for that matter."

His hand shot up in the blink of an eye, fingers gripped around Loki's right wrist.

"Just believe me when I tell you..."

His mischievous smile transformed into a vicious, heated glare, and Anthony squeezed.

Loki bit back a pained yelp, hissing instead as he attempted to free his arm away from the vicelike, calloused grip that threatened to do more than cut off oxygen flow towards his hand and potentially break a vein. As a matter of fact – it burned.

Anthony released him after that dreadful second, sending Loki staggering back. The god tilted his chin up as his feet left the floor once more, glaring downwards at the human, and spoke in a low, barely restrained hiss.

"That you don't want to do that."

Loki seethed, glaring back towards Anthony just as venomously. He gripped his wrist, still feeling the tingling sensation of burning from only moments ago. Anthony's gaze narrowed again, and he flashed teeth humorously towards Loki again.

"So, now that we've gotten that out of the way, what do you want me to do, Lucas Lawson?"

Loki kept his glare as his chest heaved and his nostrils flared.

"I insist you call me Loki."

"And I insist I don't. Again, like I said, that won't do any of us any good – unless you're not human and you're from the giants' outlands." A scornful scoff. "You'd probably be dead by now if you were. Just saying."

Loki groaned impatiently. Anthony rolled his eyes.

"What do you want me to do, Lawson?"

The green-eyed man looked nonplussed. It was a start, nonetheless.

"Tell me what I want," he said.

If that godling lifted that brow like that at him one more goddamn time...

"That's a little more than redundant, don't you think?"

"Tell me what I want."

"See, I've got a lot of magic up my sleeve, as you say, but mind-reading isn't one of those things. And I really don't want to be wrong on guessing what it is you greatly desire so – "

"Tell me what I want to know!" Loki shouted.

"About what?"

That's when Loki whipped his body to the side, throwing his right arm behind him.

Anthony's eyes steeled, and his arms shot up towards the mortal instinctively, sparks crackling in the extended palms of his hands.

Fingers just barely touching the crystal again, Loki straightened his posture and turned his wrist so that he simply gestured at it.

"These stones."

The red in the Asgardian's eyes dulled, and the sparks subsided as he curled his fingers back into his palm. Loki continued on.

"Tell me what you know about the stones, these crystals that contain energy more efficient and bountiful than any man-made power source on Earth. Simply because I happened upon them in Canada under Russian siege within a mountain does not make me blind to its very alien aura. It's not from here." He frowned. "Does it hail from Asgard?"

Anthony snorted.

"Far away from it, honey."

A shame Anthony's hands could light up faster than the Fourth of July the moment he even saw Loki's hand twitch towards the crystal.

"Ah ah, control yourself, please! You should really learn how to 'cool out'. Is it 'cool out'? I feel like I got that wrong, pretty sure I – "

"Then where does it come from?" Loki interrupted irately.

"If you said you found it in a damn cave, then – hold on, listen carefully to this, it's important – maybe it came from the damn cave."

"We both know that is not the case." Loki's expression softened as he brought forth a smile as genuine as pyrite was to gold. "Will you not enlighten me, God of Chaos, Calamity, and Flash Gimmicks?"

Anthony shot the expression right back at him.

"Only if I get some answers too."

Loki stretched the limits of his patience with the limits of how wide his faux grin could be.

"What is it that you'd want from a mere mortal like myself?"

"Muffin, there's a good number of things I'd want from you, believe it or not."

The limits were not stretchable enough to accommodate this infuriating man, it would seem.

Anthony's remained strong and genuinely snide, and Loki was rather certain his hand was going to start shaking if this blasted crystal did not find its way into his hand soon. Loki breathed heavily; he had not felt so uncertain around this god since – well, actually, there have been many times he had felt uncertain and uneasy around this arrogant fool, and each time had not gone as planned: the penthouse, Central Park...

"Okay, me first if you're not gonna speak up now: what on Midgard is a muffin?"

A very important memory surfaced, and Loki blinked.

Perhaps this battle of sarcastic wit and whine was not yet over.

"Who are you working with?" Loki demanded.

Anthony tensed visibly.

Perfect.

"Hey, no fair, you missed your turn! Just a second – "

"Had they not interfered at Central Park, you would be facing the wrath of Asgardian's justice under the watchful eyes of your father – All-Father, sorry, how insensitive of me," he deadpanned when he caught a few sparks jumping out of one of a very grim-faced Anthony's fingers. He raised his chin. "Each and every one of us saw to it that you were bound by the hands of another god; he who claims you as brother. That technology was of Asgard's, not of ours. Those were the only things that could silence you, the only things that could stop you and restrain your magic."

This is where Loki's withering glare came back in full force.

"The weapon he had – that had power that would be able to whisk you both away. That also had the power to break your chains."

Anthony smirked, clearly relishing this.

"Only diamond can cut diamond," Loki resumed onwards, tone quiet if not skeptical. He looked away and began to pace, hands grasped together behind him so that Anthony would not dare singe him to ashes in suspicion. "The moment you severed the shackles, you were gone because your magic had returned. But the explosions from before, as well as those insect-like droids, were not a product of magic because we could severe them with our technology."

He stopped pacing and glanced back to Anthony.

"You're working under somebody," Loki accused.

Anthony guffawed, tilting his head back with a scandalized look.

"Please, I'm offended that you think so lowly of me." He scowled. "I'm not working under anybody. If I did have an accomplice, they'd probably be working for me. Hey, I've got great leadership skills, contrary to what anyone says."

Loki almost laughed.

"So I'm to believe the god most infamous for dishonesty?" he scoffed.

Anthony's scowl deepened before it flipped again in his favour.

"Big words for a man who wants that god to tell him things he doesn't know."

Bastard.

Loki gave an exasperated sigh.

"If you want the ring, then I don't have it. It's in SHIELD's custody, not mine, and I am not willing to waste time – rather, risk – breaching their systems for your sake. You've learned how to do so already, so I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem for you being the intrusive bastard you are."

He gestured back towards the crystal.

"If you want these, then I'm afraid that's not on the table for bargain. They are mine and mine alone; am not a man who enjoys sharing, and I am not a man who enjoys others laying fingers on my possessions."

He spread his arms out at his sides, a challenge more than anything.

"If you want me, then you are at a loss." His eyes narrowed. "I've said it once and I will say it again: I will never bow."

It seemed for just a moment that his words had reached, even touched Anthony. The way he blinked contemplatively, the way he craned his head towards Loki, as though wondering and processing just how this mortal fought against him so.

For just a moment.

His tongue clicked again, and Anthony chuckled quietly.

"Hard to get, aren't you, daisy?" he taunted.

Loki sneered back, arms still outstretched.

"Oh, yes," Loki seethed. "I mean to stand against you, godling – not fall to my knees for you."

"What if that was the only way I'd tell you about the crystals?"

"Then, I continue living in ignorance."

Anthony cackled.

"Are you really comfortable with that, Lawson?" Then, Anthony's feet were on the ground, and the god was walking slowly towards him, lips curling in...disgust? Contempt? "Because something tells me you're not, but I'm not sure what I'm supposed to think about your people since they are really dead set on that way of life – living in ignorance. You have an adage on it too; how it's so much more blissful to not have any idea what's happening around you just because you've got it good. That...sickens me like the Norns don't even know."

Anthony shook his head, throwing up his hands dismissively.

"People here – Norns be damned, people anywhere but just especially here – are actually, legitimately content enough to accept being idiots. How can you live with yourselves not being blessed by the fruits of knowledge?"

Something about this conversation felt far from comfortable.

"Those were not blessings."

"In the beginning of everything not from the World Tree's branches – sure, technically they weren't. But this isn't the beginning of everything, Iron Man."

Anthony snapped his fingers.

Loki witnessed every monitor, every holographic extension to each monitor, every built-in HUD and light in his lab come back to life, obeying not their own creator but someone who didn't even need to say anything to make them do so. Anthony flicked aside a screen in front of him and blew away another towards Loki's face, who swatted it away irritably.

"We're in a new era," Anthony went on, taking another step forward. "Where your kind keeps getting this itch they need to scratch every time they discover something 'new' or profound. And then they go ahead and touch it even though they probably shouldn't touch it or aren't supposed to touch it and then things get complicated. Question is, why? Why do you humans do that?"

The god's expression blackened.

"Because they keep asking 'why' and 'how' when their minds are way too narrow and cluttered with garbage to even begin this incredibly rough concept you hold called 'revolutionary'," he spat. "So, wars start, blood is shed, jealousy rouses, and conspiracy rises. I swear on the Nine, you guys just cannot go a day without having to take a life just so you can take material. Of course, you know, you can't accept that you all royally – what is it, starts with a ffh. Oh, right – fucked up. Instead, you try and touch even more things and poke and prod and push and shove until you made something out of it to fix the former problem...except now you've got a bigger problem."

He stopped right in front of Loki again.

"You run forward so damn fast that you don't even realize how lost you really are," Anthony snarled.

Loki refused to waver, raising his chin defiantly and taking a step to the Asgardian's side.

"Such is technology," he retorted. "I hear they are one and the same back in Asgard. That would explain the nature of the stones."

"I already told you, they aren't Asgardian."

"But they are of a nature you recognize, a nature foreign to this realm and a nature not foreign to your vision."

And here, Loki actually sighed, hesitantly letting his arms fall to his sides. He cared not for how bitter he may have sounded as he spoke again.

"You know of their true powers, the ones left untapped. You know what they can really do, do you not?"

Anthony, as expected, was taking a satisfaction so sweet and sadistic from this that Loki ought to slam his head into the desk if he could.

"Oh, absolutely."

Anthony, as not expected, shifted his eyes behind Loki – towards the four Iron Man suits lined up behind their glass cases.

"The only thing I don't know about is how your metals can use even a fraction of that power," he muttered.

Loki's eyebrows furrowed.

"But other than that..."

"Other than that?" Loki exhaled sharply, patience finally at its limits. "Other than that indeed. How do I know that you aren't lying to me, Blacksmith of Lies? How can I trust that your word is worth believing?"

As if on cue, Anthony took a few steps back, this distance asking for no relief, and flashed his teeth in a smile so brilliant it was a terrible omen.

"Well, that's just it, sweetpea," he murmured. "You don't."

The god clicked his tongue once more and winked – right before he vanished in a burst of flames, hot air blasting into Loki and reeling him backwards into the desk with a yelp.

The man groaned as pain riveted throughout his lower body, knees buckling immediately. Supporting himself with one arm in order to not collapse while grasping the aching part of his body behind him, he glared fiercely where the floor was singed just a few feet away from him.

"Master?"

At least the deity had enough mercy within his black-hearted soul to spare his equipment and facilities. For now.

"Yes, SIGYN?"

His voice came out strained, refraining from snapping lest he ended up venting violently, risking the valuable (and very, very pricey) equipment he treasured so.

"Shall I delete all security footage containing Anthony Stark?"

He was about to open his mouth to question as to why she even had to ask – before that was swiftly replaced by a sudden jolt of realization.

"No," Loki exclaimed hoarsely, eyes wide. They returned to normal size as he stood up slowly, focus still fastened towards the spot where Anthony had been standing at. "No. Not as of right now."

As though she was processing why he would say such a thing in such a dire situation, SIGYN paused momentarily.

"Then shall I inform SHIELD the details of Anthony Stark's arrival?" she suggested instead.

"None of that yet, none of any of that," Loki responded, storming straight over to where his suits were. Determination coursed through his veins like adrenaline. "New file, secure it and password it; hide it as well as you can and put the surveillance footage within there."

Yes. Anthony had a point about the suit. Loki had made sure to study and run as many tests as he could before he was certain it could contain and channel the energy of those crystals within the armour's sleek, fluid frame. But perhaps Loki did not study enough. Perhaps more tests needed to be made.

A shame that these goals in his genius mind were shoved aside by this aggravating godling – a man who held secrets beyond the worth of platinum which Loki knew not and Anthony told not.

There were no men like Lucas Lawson. If that was a lie, then he had done a great job convincing himself that this was not simply stroking his own ego. There were people who were close, but they were not like him. Victor was close. Thor was close. Even his father – a man more genius than he would dare admit begrudgingly – was close.

To even think of wondering if a man like Anthony was anywhere close to him was a taboo. No, he would not entertain this thought. As a matter of fact, if he had two choices of that, or having dropped into his eyes a liquid so hot and volatile it refused to blind him when he prayed his sense of sight would just die.

Eyes that were pried open and a mouth that was gagged closed.

Forced on his knees, bound to the point where the ropes dig into his wrists and ankles, within a dark cavern he knew where not as a furious man spitting blood and saliva yanked his hair forward and bellowed in his ears to solve this code or else you will end up wishing on your wasted life for something as sweet as –

"What would you like to label this file as, sir?"

Loki stiffened, and he remembered to exhale at that moment.

He turned around again and walked back to the weakly pulsating problem he should place at top priority.

Yes, Loki was 100% certain that there were also no men – nobody so brash and conceited who babbled relentlessly about nothing and everything all in that one second he would speak – like Anthony Stark out there in existence.

"Filename: Egotistical Flash-Gimmicks Supervillain."

No men whatsoever.

Alternate chapter title: Frostirony.

With everyone in school now (myself included), I was wondering if I should move the weekly/bi-weekly update schedule from Wednesday to Saturday or Sunday instead. What do you guys think? As always, thank you for reading, reviews and feedback are greatly appreciated, and I'm glad you're all enjoying it!