<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/9/95/LadyLokiBips.jpg)</div><hr/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Name: </strong> Loki?<br/>  <strong>Title: </strong>God of Mischief<br/>  <strong>Affiliation: </strong>Resistance<br/>  <strong>Location: </strong>Cairo<br/>  <strong>Tags: </strong>Nightcrawler<br/></span></span><hr/><br/>For the first time in an eon, Loki was speechless. Here, during Midgard's twilight hours, in some dust-choked city at the corner of a broken lamp post and a collapsed minarette, he'd just met a blue-black creature with some sort of magical teleportation abilities who hailed him in fluent German. Stranger things may have happened but certainly not many.<br/><br/>He stared at the well-armed being, madly rifling through his memory for something to compare him with. The cross-shaped badges on his clothing were vaguely familiar; the symbol of some earthly "heroes" organization, wasn't it? It seemed odd, in retrospect, that heroes hadn't swarmed to this locale at the first hint of trouble. They were usually so eager to avenge every little thing. Where were they all? Or was it now a matter of how many were left?<br/><br/>His mind flooded with questions as he leaped to the air again, following this fascinating stranger. If Midgard was in such a state, what was happening in the other realms? In Asgard? Would any gods or heroes bother to look for him? Only to cast some of the blame, no doubt. Caution was called for, more caution than he had shown thus far. If he was ever going to regain his powers - and if this realm continued to exist long enough for him to do so - it would be wise not to reveal his true identity to potential friend or assured foe. At least for the time being.<br/><br/>The eagle wheeled and dropped just a few yards away from the blue creature, within his line of sight.  Its wings spread across the ground, arched and lengthened like a fluttering cloak. Then a human figure rose and flipped her earth-brown cloak over her shoulder.<br/><br/>A bronze-skinned woman dressed in loose, ragged robes stood with her back to a pile of rubble. Her head was covered with a scarf but a few shadowy curls had crept out to frame her cheeks. She gazed at the hero with surprise in her dark eyes and a cautious smile. "<em>Sprechen Sie Deutsch, Fremder?</em>" Her head tipped to one side as her hand moved towards the dagger sheathed at her slender waist. "And do you bring us help or further harm?"<br/>