Loki

(_)(_)(_)

Given Shiro's general attitude, Loki had fully expected some sort of nonsense as regarded their rooms. A old style traditional Japanese room complete with tatami mats, maybe, or, well. There were a lot of ways to give someone grief, both subtle and overt (Loki of anyone would know that) was the point. And Loki had expected something of the sort from Shiro.

Either the rooms hadn't been under Shiro's control (very likely) or he'd opted to prove Japanese superiority by ensuring the rooms were perfect. Perhaps both. At any rate, there wasn't a single objectionable thing in the rooms they'd been given for their brief stay. Not that Loki cared or was even wholly familiar with the differences, but the bathrooms were even American style. He may not have cared, but the fact they were so made Loki think these rooms had been originally used by American Olympians. Even on Asgard, renovation of a living space of any description took more time than the handful or so of days' warning Shiro had gotten of their visit.

Their excess luggage deposited, everyone trooped back to the training space. And the headaches began in earnest. Not that that was obvious right away. Shiro had evidently opted to demonstrate his teams' abilities at hand-to-hand combat. This was, on the face of it, not a bad thing. Training for hand to hand, no powers fighting definitely had its place. Even child Thor, who had been obstinately resistant to anything he deemed even faintly non warrior-like (and that, back then, had been damn near everything save hitting people at close range with the biggest weapon possible), had (if reluctantly) seen the wisdom in such. Because it was entirely possible for one to lose one's weapon of choice, or have it break, or have an enemy grab one in such a way that bringing a weapon to bear was impossible. Moreover, in the sort of long, way more enemies than there are allies kind of fight they'd be facing against the Chitauri, fighting sans powers would be required. Powers of any sort used energy. Energy which would eventually get low or the use of such would tire one to the point it became dangerous on the battlefield.

Loki had, of course, heard of (and read about) martial arts by now. He'd even seen some martial arts moves done – mostly by Natasha. Natasha being who and what she was, however, Loki hadn't seen those moves done in the proper, codified manner. Nor had he seen moves from just one kind of martial art. Natasha was, above all else, pragmatic in the extreme, and used whatever worked.

Seeing three men who were well versed in the niceties of the same martial art sparring in real time was … interesting and instructive. For both good and ill. Most of the moves, done at speed and with intent, could do serious damage to even someone like Thor. Especially the ones that used an opponent's own moves and momentum against them. That sort of thing would take out half the Asgardian army, simply because not a one of them had any real idea what to do with that sort of fighting. Oh, they could duck punches and the like, but being grabbed mid punch and thrown halfway across a room? They'd have no idea how to handle that, and wouldn't even see such a thing coming. No Asgardian worth the name would dream of fighting in so 'dishonorable' a fashion.

Hells, for that matter, Loki himself only barely knew what to do in such a fight, simply because he hadn't encountered so-called 'dirty fighters' much. Oh, the Vanir were pretty pragmatic, but most of their tactics were focused on dealing with the dragons that occasionally made life interesting for the Realm. Such tactics weren't all that useful against a single much smaller opponent. The Dwarves were likewise pragmatic, but enough smaller that what Loki did to deal with them in a spar wouldn't really work against a larger opponent. That said, thanks to such things, Loki knew he'd have a bit better luck. Add in his ability with magic and his overall adaptability, and he had quite an advantage over most Aesir when it came to dealing with so-called dirty fighting. And he hadn't been afraid to employ it against his opponents either. Which, of course, had earned him no end of grief.

That said, while many of the moves would be devastating in the right circumstances, many of them were also on the showy and energy wasting side. At least for a sustained fight, anyway. Especially the sort they were in for when Thanos got here. And Loki wondered at the three mens' ability to stray from what were obviously codified forms, if wildly different from the Asgardian version of codified fighting.

Well, there was only one way to find out, and he'd been given carte blanche to deal with Shiro and his cohort as he saw fit. Loki gave a very particular toothy grin. One that most of the Asgardian court was familiar with, as it always presaged Loki doing something they considered scandalous.

Ten feet away, Thor groaned, sounding more amused than put out. "Oh no."

Loki threw an entirely different grin at Thor. One that was pure mischief and mayhem and nearly demented glee. Thor, much to Loki's amusement, actually whimpered and covered his face with one big hand. Next to him, Tony started snickering, clearly realizing Loki's intent despite not really knowing Loki all that well. Also, Thor's dramatics were admittedly funny.

Loki gave them both an impish salute, then turned and flung a small, cool 'fireball' into the midst of the three men. It looked very much like fire, but had just enough heat to feel warm to the skin. Then he teleported into the middle of the chaos the fireball caused. While it was markedly slower than what Kurt could manage (Loki was going to get that figured out, just watch him!), Loki imitated Kurt's rapid fire teleport – and – trounce fighting style. Teleport in, get in a few hits (or attempt to) then bounce back out.

He managed that four times before the men managed to recover from both the surprise fireball and Loki's surprise attacks and figured out a way to try to combat the sneak attacks. To their credit, they did figure it out, and coordinated themselves without saying a word or giving any signals that Loki could readily identify as such. The fifth time Loki teleported in, he was almost instantly met with several kicks and hits from one of them. Loki gave a pleased grin, blocked the hits, then upped the ante, adding other magical hijinks to the teleporting. Small, harmless spells meant to startle, rather than injure. Whereupon, problems made themselves evident.

For one, while all three managed to adapt to what Loki was doing, they never once strayed from what he assumed was proper form for whatever martial art they were using. Though it had to be said that one of Shiro's minions had a look on his face like he wanted to, and kept side-eyeing Shiro like he was waiting for an order to that effect. The second problem was that none of the three once even imitated using their mutations. Loki was willing to forgive not actually using their mutations, especially Shiro, as his mutation was particularly destructive in nature, but not even faking it? That was going to need addressing. Like, right now. Hopefully, the two minions would be able to unbend enough to take the lesson to heart.

"Do you think, then, that all fight with honor and restraint?" Loki asked, even as he darted in to jab at Shiro's ribs. "That all beings follow the rules you have set yourselves to live by? I assure you, they do not."

Loki gave them a fanged grin and kicked out at the minion that had seemed willing to fight outside the rules. To Loki's delight, the man did exactly that. He managed to get a hold of Loki's ankle, and tried to kick Loki's supporting foot out from under him. Sadly for the man, Loki was heavier than he looked and the kick wasn't strong enough to upset Loki's balance, especially as, thanks to their positions, the man couldn't really reach the back of Loki's knee to take it out from under him. Loki yanked his leg free of the man's grip and resumed talking, this time without trying to attack whilst doing so.

"In point of fact, no one in the Realms knows – or cares – that your beloved country exists. Most of them hardly know or care that this planet exists, come to that. Those that do, thanks in large part to Odin's decisions long ago, think Midgard – that is what they call Earth, because they do not know, nor care, that you call it something else – and its citizens to be a barbaric, primitive backwater populated by beings barely evolved beyond the beasts of the fields."

The best part was that Loki wasn't even lying. Oh, the Realm rulers knew now that humans, and Earth, were far more than they had thought them to be, but even they had been of that opinion before the tour Tony and Steve had undertaken. Everyone else, if they'd thought of Midgard at all, had at best dismissed it as wholly unimportant in all regards. At worst, well. There had been whispers in dark corners from time to time about conquering Midgard and taking it for themselves. Such whispers had gotten precisely nowhere for a number of reasons, but they'd existed.

"And even did the residents of the other Realms know, care about, and follow your ways, I assure you, the Chitauri do not. They were, so far as any knows, created by a being so mad he believes Death to be a real being – that he wishes to wed. The Chitauri do not know that the word 'honor' exists, never mind having any. They will kill all in their path by any means necessary. Battling such beasts honorably will only see you killed, and your countrymen with you." Not to mention the rest of the planet, of course.

Stunningly, Shiro actually seemed to be listening. While also looking disgusted and annoyed as was humanly possible. Perhaps because what Loki was saying fed into his unshakable belief that anyone not of Japanese blood was inferior. Well, Loki was willing to permit that, if it got Shiro to act the way he needed to. Loki waved a hand, and an illusion of a Chitauri foot soldier shimmered into being. All three men recoiled like they'd been slapped. Loki didn't much blame them. The Chitauri were not pleasant to look at.

"This is your enemy, gentlemen. Well, one of them." Next to the foot soldier a very, very, very scaled down version of the creatures the Avengers had dubbed space whales popped into being, then a somewhat less scaled down version of the sleds, complete with pilots and gunners. "These are the rest, though the latter two are scaled down. The great beast there can hold as many as a hundred Chitauri that can then eject from its sides and drop down on unsuspecting victims. There are thousands of such beasts. Perhaps hundreds of thousands. And an uncountable number of the smaller vehicles. They will swarm this planet like an out of control swarm of locusts, destroying all in their path."

The more adaptable minion poked at the illusion of the space whale, blinking when it disappeared in a shower of green and gold.

"Apologies, these illusions dissipate when touched."

Loki could, of course, do illusions that did not dissipate when touched, but it took a lot more concentration and magic to do. He reserved such effort for when a scheme or battle required it, which had been very seldom. Seldom enough that Thor had no idea it was even possible. The space whale reappeared with a thought and a twist of the hand, and this time, all three men circled the thing, clearly examining it.

"Tony, didn't you say the scientists examining the remains of the space whales had started sending schematics to you?" Loki asked.

"Yep." Tony said, and walked up beside him, pulling a Stark Pad apparently out of thin air, as Loki was fairly sure the clothes Tony was wearing couldn't hide the Pad.

A few taps, and a bright blue schematic of a space whale came up on the screen. Or, well, Loki saw, a partial schematic. Clearly the scientists hadn't gotten all of it investigated and rendered in a drawing, as there were blank bits here and there. Shiro and his minions took the invitation for what it was, and gathered around the Pad – and Tony – to examine this opponent.

Loki fought down a smirk. Step one in getting Shiro to tolerate the existence of others without being nasty – complete. Loki was even willing to bet Shiro was at least partway to considering expanding his frankly idiotically tiny team. Midgard hadn't exactly coined the phrase – versions of it existed on every Realm, but 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' was a tactic that worked, when it was employed correctly. Especially when it was less 'enemy' and more 'someone I loathe with all my being'. Having a common enemy could and had gotten the bitterest of rivals to work together all throughout the history of all the Realms.