Gathering the Players
He appeared before the Defenders compound without fanfare or signal, without any of the usual lavish displays he attempted when wishing to make a point. Instead, it was simply as though he was not there one moment and there the next. His features--he would never be called handsome, though some might have called them regal--contorted slightly. Why was so much of Midgard so insufferably warm? A proper place was cold enough to freeze the marrow from unworthy bones.

Well, you know what they say. You can take the giant out of Jötunheimr, but you can't take Jötunheimr out of the giant. He resisted the urge to change the climate to something more to his liking.

He was not, technically, supposed to travel to Midgard these days. But when had he ever cared for the rules? Besides, who would deny him the opportunity to see his niece and grandchildren?

Loki, Lord of Lies, God of Mischief, adopted son of Odin, had come to Earth.