ʟᴏᴋɪ

Loki had been busy.

In truth, he was always busy and sometimes, every now and then, he took a moment to feel sadness for that. For as long as humans sinned, he would be around to bring about Judgement.

He didn't question his Father's Orders, nor did he shy away from a job. But lately? Lately he was busier than usual. Not because people were sinning more than usual (it was Christmas, after all, and Loki was always pleased to find that his job got a little easier over the holidays), but because he was trying to get everything done so he could take a few hours to wish Pestilence a-- well, a happy something.

It was on his way back from Hell for the last time before stopping off to see her that he cursed himself for thinking two things. The first: whether he should find some sort of gift for the Horseman. Neither of them celebrated Christmas, and while Loki celebrated the birth of Jesus Christ on the actual day, Pes didn't. The present idea was out the window soon enough, replaced by the second thought: did he look okay? 

Growling his obvious frustration at where his mind was headed, he didn't notice anything amiss until he was standing right in the middle of a broken apartment. Pes's broken apartment. He wasn't proud to admit the few seconds he let panic flood into him, Grace having to work extra hard to expel and force him into warrior mode. This wasn't good. He could still feel her though, too strong to just be the lingering feel of her apartment, and without hesitation he burst through one of her windows, glass shattering everywhere on the sidewalk below as he took to the skies.