Blood and Knifes

1

Megan scanned the room they had blindly walked into. Posters promoting job opportunities and school trips that would - as they realized with a start - most certainly never come to pass. Sickeningly familiar circular tables scattered sparsely throughout the room sported hundreds of unfamiliar faces. It was obviously once a cafeteria, which did absolutely nothing to assuage their muscles from clenching uncomfortably.

Come on Megan, you can do this! All you have to do is walk up to them and... ask them... if you can sit with them... They took a deep breath, then panicked again. What if someone noticed that you took a deep breath? Maybe they did and now they know you're nervous, and they'll make fun of you! Just act casual. Go up to them and ask them if you can sit with them! Don't act dorky or weird!

Megan walked slowly up to the table they had been eyeing before, throwing themself an internal pep rally. Oh yeah! You go pal! Walking like a Heather! All the girls at the table looked loaded, wearing bright colored see through tops and shorts so short they exposed half of the girls' bottoms. Perfect hair, perfect nails, perfect makeup, oh dear. All the girls were staring at them now, and before they could even open their mouth a girl spoke.

"What do you want?" The dark haired girl crinkled her nose up in disgust, and with it, crinkled the last of Megan's self-confidence.

"If you don't mind, I was just wondering if I could possibly sit with you all until, um, whatever we're here for is done?" Their bag leaned against their feet and they twisted the ring around their middle finger.

The whole table giggled girlishly. All Megan wanted to do was melt into the ground.

"We don't associate with the commonwealth," a girl with strawberry blonde hair piped up sassily. "Leave!"

Megan faltered when the girls immediately turned their attention elsewhere, as if they didn't exist. They scooped their bag from the ground, slinging it around their shoulder where it drooped pathetically. They stepped away from the Popular girls and strained their eyes. To their utter horror, the only other table not full was otherwise occupied by the physical embodiments of the word 'Jock'. One man, probably a bodybuilder or whatever, was at least two feet taller than them and had long blond hair that fell down the back of one of the strangest, most foreign outfit they had ever seen. He seemed to be the most entertaining of them all, the other men surrounding him were all guffawing heartily at something he had said. They shuddered to think of what type of joke could've been told at a table full of men, then re-evaluated their original assumptions when they realized a woman sat with the men, and was laughing with them. The group couldn't be too sexist if a woman hung out with them.

Mind made up, Megan strode over to the group much more confidently then they had to the Popular girls. The laughter died down when they approached, replaced with a respectful silence. They suddenly became aware that the rest of the room had quieted as well, the previous swell of conversation down to an uncomfortable lull. Flattening our their crumpled confidence, they spoke.

"Would you mind if I sat with you?"

The group all looked awkwardly at each other, then to the larger blond man, who apparently was not only the most entertaining but also the decision maker.

Finally, the woman broke the silence with a warm smile. "Of course you may sit with us. I am the Lady Sif, of Asgard, this is the King Thor, of Asgard, and Lord Heimdall, of Asgard."

Megan released the tension in their shoulders and set their bag down to lean against the chair leg before they sat down.

"My name is Megan Porter, um, and I'm from Michigan." They were suddenly feeling a lot less eloquent around these people.

The doors to the cafeteria opened once more to emit possibly one of the most aesthetically pleasing men Megan had ever seen. He had silky black hair slicked down his head ending at his collarbone. He wore a fashionable black suit so professional Megan nearly thought he was a member those who summoned them all here. But the man continued walking up to their table. He cocked an eyebrow, staring down at them with an unreadable face. Megan froze. The man's gaze was abruptly averted as King Thor stood up and loudly embraced the man.

"Brother!" He bellowed, wrapping his arms around the man lifting him off of the ground and crushing him against his armor. "Is all well in Jotunheim?"

"Yes, of course all is well!" The man said once King Thor had set him down. "Do you have that little faith in me?" He smoothed the wrinkles out of his suit, and then glanced back down at Megan. "Thor, you know you cannot get rid of me as easily as merely occupying my seat."

Heat rose to Megan's cheeks, and they grabbed their bag, making to give the man back his seat.

"Ah, no," he said, waving her off. "There is no need to leave."

He waved his hand and a green metallic liquid seeped up from the cracks in the cement and molded itself into a lovely green velvet armchair. He took his seat - dang, this man even made sitting down look elegant! - and took out a small green leather wallet that had been tucked into the inside breast pocket of his suit. From this wallet he somehow pulled out a book as thick and tall as the seventh Harry Potter book. Megan's mouth puckered into a small 'o'.

"Did you use on engorgement charm on your wallet?" They blurted loudly. When the man looked up, they realized they had spoken aloud, and their eyes widened like a deer in headlights.

The man's beautiful emerald eyes pierced them with a new gaze, less scrutinizing and more curious. "How did you know that?"

"Oh, um, I read it in a book," Megan said, averting their eyes to the black ring around their middle finger and twisting it again.

The man ran a nimble finger over the pages of his book, then looked back to Megan. "My name is Loki, of Jotunheim."

"I am Megan, of Michigan." They said, glancing at his powerful gaze before darting their eyes away, and settling them onto his tie, twisting their ring even more.

Loki flicked his fingers towards their feet, and they tore their gaze from his Adam's apple and to whatever magic he had performed. Their previously huge bag had shrunken to a small green lanyard and attached wallet, and was apparently weightless, as they noticed when they picked it up. They zipped it open and pulled out Common Sense by Thomas Paine.

Megan abruptly dropped the lanyard onto their lap and began pulling books from the pockets in their jacket and pants. At this point, the rest of the table was watching their and Loki's interactions, and they looked quite confused as to how one so small could fit so many books on their person. After they had finished retrieving all of their books, they put them all one by one into the bag. They looked up and noticed the others' stares. A pale pink rose to their cheeks, and they looked back down to their lanyard, pulling out Macbeth. Loki smirked at the others, and they both began to read.