The God of Lies and the Brat Princess;
Every Talamascan was needed inside the Motherhouse today. All hands on desk, they said. Pandora would rather eat a box of nails as a snack than wait around her desk for a whole damn week. “We need to get Loki settled”, they said. “Just in case we need back up.” “He needs at least a dozen guards, twenty four hours a day” “Just in case someone gets wounded.”
The researcher groaned as she filled out yet another form that was far past due. She wanted to go back to Cairo. To her real office. The one where she could actually get some damn work done. Not stuck in London! Where it was rainy and cold every day of the stupid year!
And the food was horrible!
To say the least, the little woman was not pleased.
Her lunch hour would come around soon enough, even though she had just got here. In her study of vampires, Pandora worked from the moment the sun rose to the second before the blackness of night came. These eight hour work days were useless to her. Yes, she had gotten a lot of paperwork done already. And yes, maybe the week that she was forced to be in her home office would give her enough time to finish it all and get her higher-ups off of her back. So yeah, maybe it would be good for her in the long run.
But for now, she had a better idea. A much better, possibly more useful way to spend her hour.
She’d get up and go to the break room, grabbing three decks of cards that were collecting dust on the book shelves. This might have been the first time she was in this room. Come to think of it, she hadn’t been back to her Motherhouse since she had finished training nearly five years ago… Whatever. She wasn’t planning on making herself too comfortable, anyway. So she was off.
Her heels clicked against the tile floor, holding her security badge out for the hallway of guards to see. Yes, she was here now. Yes, she was here to see Loki. No, she wasn’t on guard duty - she was a researcher. This “guarding the God” crap was far beneath her.
"Are you bored in there?" Pandora called inside the glass tank, hand resting on her hip as she watched him. Poor thing. At least S.H.I.E.L.D. had the decency to bandage his wounds. Or had the Talamasca done them on the way in? They looked rather fresh…