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Hurricane

Chapter One

The room reeked of cigarette smoke and of alcohol been thrown everywhere, but it was a smell which seemed to complement her mood, not ruin it. Bringing her own lit cigarette to her mouth, a short girl in no more than her twenties sat in front of the bartender in a crowded and very loud bar in Singapore. Her eyes were staring directly at the mobile phone held between her fingers. A sigh escaped her lips as she tore her gaze from the small piece of technology. The text she had received hours ago still lingering opened on its screen. Long fingers massaged softly her heavily make-up covered eyes as she took another breath and turned around on her seat to look at her surroundings.

‘She will always be with us. She wouldn’t have wanted for you to grieve this much. Be good, yes?’

People dancing, drinking, touching. While normally she found herself able to blend in perfectly with that type of crowd, she sat there as if she weren’t even there, as if she was sitting there but slowly disappearing, fading away, and for a few seconds, she truly wished that were true. The clothes she wore could portray nothing but that she was some sort of hardcore partying girl with a lot of money; couldn’t be more specific then.

Standing up and drinking the last bit of her drink, she ventured to the back of the famous bar towards the restroom, waving at people as she passed, smiling at others, half-bowing as she was complimented by others who knew who she was. She could act indeed, after all, that’s how she got so rich, but most of all, she could lie.

Surprisingly enough, the usually nastiest place of a public establishment was in this case extremely presentable. Keeping the dim light the whole place held, but changing the contaminated smell to a softer flowery like one, the restroom greeted Anja as a perfect getaway of the overwhelming sensation she was getting.

Supporting herself on the long, dark pink, marble sink, she looked up at herself on the mirror. Messy, curly brown hair, thick black eyeliner and long eyelashes enhanced by mascara. Was that her? Was this how she was meant to look? Looking down at her attire, she found herself not as repulsed as she had felt at times: plain dark skinny jeans, an incredibly loose, creamy tank-top showing more cleavage than her mother would have felt comfortable having her wear. She had been through a lot throughout her years, but she found a need to play her character well.

She half snorted as she thought “At least I’m wearing a scarf over it, right, mama?” Oh, she was not helping herself. Running her hand over her hair, she took another deep breath and threw her almost burnt cigarette on an ashtray nearby, only to light another right afterwards.

Who the fuck am I?” She thought as she once again stepped into the crowd and placed a bright smile. Those who saw her wouldn’t doubt that she was happy. They either assumed she had things on her mind or was growing too fond of her fame as she did not stop to have a proper conversation with her “fans” as she usually did. Either way, there were bigger secrets to hide from public.

She crossed the street and walked down the empty city. “Two more blocks and I’m running, I swear.” She remembered when she would be so scared to walk alone at night, as things began changing, as the world became more and more corrupted, but by now, she would not worry about her safety if she were to be assaulted, but she worried about the regret she would feel afterwards if she had to hurt anybody to stay safe.

It would be a lie if she were to say she didn’t expect someone to come behind her and speak to her in their foreign language, but nothing happened. She was greeted by a smiling, short and kind looking man at the entrance of her hotel and proceeded inside. The lobby was practically empty. Considering it was almost four in the morning, no questions rose.

Oliver, her manager, opened the bedroom door with force and with an incredibly worried look upon his face. As soon as he was half pushed back by the girl who quickly walked past him and into the room, his face became one filled with anger.

“Really? Honestly?” Anja was already taking off her scarf and ready to lift her shirt over her head as she turned to him with a nonchalant yet almost annoyed look on her face, as if saying ‘what did you expect?’

Oliver threw angrily on the desk next to him the papers he had on his hand and rolled his eyes as he shook his head. “Why can’t you instead of pulling stunts like this just talk to somebody?”

She knew well that he was truly angered because of how loud his voice was at the moment, but she knew better than to jump to conclusions and just attack. She knew he was worried. After all she had left the day before without saying anything. Sorry she felt, but the remorse she felt only made her want to maintain her quiet façade.

Already inside the white bathroom, but keeping the door opened to not shut him off too rudely, Anja took a rubber band and put her hair in a high pony tail. She splashed water all over her face after getting rid of all of her make-up and stood there wearing only her bra and her pants. She seemed unmoved, like she wasn’t even listening to what he was asking.

Oliver knew that talking wouldn’t help much. It truly amused her how she could be so stubborn when helping others and forcing them to oblige with whatever advice she had given them. True enough, they certainly did work, but what amused him the most was how stubborn she could be to not listen to anything she did not feel like listening, regardless of if it would or would not help her.

She had always seen too mature for her age, in an uncommon way, as if she had lived for hundreds of years and knew what to expect of any situation. If only he had known.

Oliver rubbed his eyes in a frustrated manner as he leaned on the bathroom doorframe. “Anja” he started, “I know it’s hard. You know better than anyone that I do actually understand what you’re going through, but it’s been months, baby – months. You need to start living again.” Oh, boy, how the girl wanted to laugh, to at least chuckle. A bitter smile was her only reply.

Turning the lights off and walking past him, she muttered a low “I’m aware, Ollie”.

-.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--

All anger which previously brought him planning morphed as a new plan began to formulate.
If he could not have the pride of his own fraternal figure, he would get his own pride by becoming the owner of everything. His brother: he would see, he would understand his pain, such inferiority. Though now he had no other choice but to follow this path, he was keen on doing it for his own desires, masking the real reason behind.

He had time to spare. After all, he had made major advancements; he knew already which realm to take.

Perhaps, the Vanir, gods and goddesses of wisdom, capable of foretelling the future, perhaps they could help. Thin lips pursed together became a wild smile, he wondered if he still knew as much as this world as he did when he was little and been taught about the realms and the power he hoped one day he could possess. When he still believed he had an opportunity to become a proper king.

Vanaheimr: the world of the Vanir. He would certainly be amused there.

Anticipation was overcoming him, taking over his whole body. How he first came up with his plan, he had no idea, absolutely no idea; he just knew it was brilliant. Though he was unaware of how much time he had spent in that realm, he was not worried, he knew he had time. He had taken his time preparing his plan, getting his resources, talking to his sources. Time was the least important of the worries that troubled him.

A sly smirk adorning his face almost at all times, the god of Mischief sat in an old temple where the gods of Vanaheimr had allowed him to regain strength and practice all needed sorcery and spells he needed to return to his homeland. Fooled by the god of Lies, they were oblivious to the damnation they had brought upon the realm of Midgard.

Pale hands were placed upon symbols drawn on the floor. Sitting steadily, Loki Odinson smirked once again before muttering the spell that he had gathered so much strength for. Bright green swirls of light surrounded him and floated calmly and steadily. As his incantation came to an end a short laugh escaped his lips. Feeling the swirls of light become violent and drown him into their abyss and into the realm he was ready to take for him, the white male was completely engulfed by green energy after a few seconds, and soon after, he banished, destruction trailing right behind him.

-.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--

“…The excitement of the singer-everyone’s-currently-talking-about’s upcoming show has been diminished by the news that the singer Anja has been spotted all over Asia in many different bars- the surprising part being: she is not even partying! What could be troubling so much the gorgeous actress, slash, singer to not even get…”

“J.A.R.V.I.S. shut that woman up if you’d please.” A tall redhead shook her head with frustration as she let out an even more frustrated sigh. Leaning over the table to pick up all types of papers that were just scattered around, she turned to look at the multi-millionaire genius the world now knew as the man who created and became Iron Man. An ‘innocent’ look from the man was all she received as he manually turned the TV’s volume back up.

Startled by the sudden noise, Pepper Potts turned desperate at the man and gave a cold glare.

“Hey! What can I say? She’s cute, I wanna know more about why the poor creature is so upset. Do you think she’s even legal? Mh, I’m sure it wouldn’t matter much though. Think someone’d press charges against me? Again? Nah, you’re right, that look you’re giving at me tells me my theory and expectations of holding a perfectly healthy short-term relationship with that-“ he paused, “- young woman and her… attributes will be more than fulfilling. So, when can we bring her over?”

“Tony, please, just, please. For once, can you, please focus on what we have to do? We need all this paperwork signed by this afternoon, and you haven’t even read it. It requires your signature. Please?”
The Iron Man stood up and placed his hands on her shoulders, giving a reassuring smile she just couldn’t bring herself to buy. “Pepper, Pepp. Peppie. You can count on me-“ his suddenly serious face changed to a twitching of his mouth into a smile, “-of course, right after I finish watching this!”

Hurrying back to his seat, he turned the volume even higher and smirked a little as he heard his lovely redhead walk out and slam the door behind her. He was definitively going to have to buy her something now… J.A.R.V.I.S. would remind him surely, nothing to worry about. Nothing. At. All.

…So! Anja! You act and you sing, and I’m sure we ALL know about that...” Was she attractive, oh, man, far beyond that, but Tony agreed her voice was more than annoying, especially how she… stressed her words and turned smugly at the camera. Well, there’s always sadomasochism as an excuse to cover her mouth with something, right?

…from MIT, right? We hear you’ve even finished your master’s degree and…” Smoothly cutting her off, the so called artist gave a quick answer about how she had indeed studied there and had a lot of fun and loved everything about it and quickly moved away excusing herself. Secretive much? Mh, Tony would definitively have to look into this young girl record. ‘Either she’s lying about it or she’s hiding something
Well, he had spare time, right? Well, he was sure he could get J.A.R.V.I.S. to do something about that paperwork, right?
-.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.--.-- She was used to lying. She hated it, but she needed to lie, thus, she was used to it. The short girl stood on her tip toes as she placed her last bag on the back of van that would drive her home. Back in California, while it usually made her happy, she found herself still not able to enjoy anything. Not only had she just suffered through an almost break out of information on national TV about her studies and was sure to receive more questions concerning that matter but she also was dealing with the fact that she was back home. After months of hiding in any corner of the world where she could find alcohol, smoke, and focus on other things to not loose whatever fame she had gained throughout the years, and throw tantrums whenever she felt the need to without it becoming a scandal, she was back home. Back in California, but without the person she cherished the most. That person was gone. She was just gone.

Putting her sunglasses back on, trying to cover at least a bit of the sour expression on her face, she shut the back of the van and got inside the car. As usual, she continued to think about her mother’s last words and turned the stereo on as loud as she could without bothering Oliver, and drowned on her seat all the way back home.

She could sense something coming; something she couldn’t quite place. With all her might, she hoped it was not what her mother had foretold would happen. What scared her the most not what she had been told, but the fact that while normally her mother’s visions were extremely vague, maybe a sensation or two, a feeling, a quick picture on her mind, the last vision she had held such clarity, such vibrancy. It was going to happen. She just knew it.

As they approached her modest house in Malibu, they passed in front of what was publicly known as Tony Stark’s residence. Her eyes steady on the building, Anja wondered just how strong that man was, were there an occurrence to happen. She felt an urge to kick somebody as she crossed her arms and reprimanded herself for being too scared and not being able to stand at those high standards he stood. She knew her ways around fighting, naturally, so much spare time she once had, but never could she compare herself to a metallic man who could fly.

Without Anja realizing, the van came to a halt. “Will you be okay by yourself, Anja?”

Licking her lips, she nodded and opened the door thanking him for everything, bags already being carried by the maid that took care of her house while she was away. That strange feeling of uncertainty and of something bad coming would not leave her.

It wasn’t until a couple hours later, as she sat alone on the kitchen counter eating an apple and humming a soft tune, that her uneasiness truly became stronger. She felt a prominent sensation of being watched. It couldn’t have been anyone, after all, her security system was probably only outranked by the Government’s and by Stark’s, but someone was there, or something, she could feel it. Though weary, she knew there was barely anything she could do at the moment, so she decided to breathe and smoke as she opened the counter’s drawers with her feet, leaning down to take out a bottle of whatever she could find,
case in which she found red wine.

After struggling a little bit to take out the bottle under her from the position she was in, she felt that stare grow even stronger. She dared to gulp before she looked up slowly, thinking on a strategy if anyone were to actually be there. A soft gasp left her lips as she felt her hands letting go of the bottle. Faster than her own gasp, she took the bottle back in her hands and looked up again without wasting time.

A pair of green eyes, she knew she had seen that. She might not be any goddess of Trickery, but she couldn’t be fooled, by anyone. Holding close her own abilities, she looked around as the strange feeling left her. The creature was gone. What it had been, she did not know, but she figured she would be getting a call soon from the so called S.H.I.E.L.D. organization which had been pestering for a couple months now.

Deciding that as a precaution, she would rather get drunk at that time rather than when they did call, as if to not talk about those eyes with people she didn’t trust, she turned her music loud and invited to her beach apartment as much people as she could fit in it without destroying it.

As she drank and danced, she wondered, had her mother –an insignificant goddess from Vanaheimr -foretold something that would start happening already? It just felt unlikely, usually foretelling of that sort especially coming from someone with minor traits such as her respected mother’s could take centuries, seldom they took years.

Not months.” She thought.

Had she known just what was being planned for her, for her gifts, for the Earth.

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