"Perhaps," Loki allowed. He had met Simmons only once, and Foster, well. He tried to keep his interaction with her low, though he sometimes failed at that. She irritated him in more than a few ways.

He could only imagine how Midgardian scientists might view his opinion on the matter, but they were so solidly based in their own visions he didn't think they could grasp the almost sensitive nature of the universe, the way it could move and react to those who occupied it. Relics had personalities, and focused magic could behave, reacting to thousands upon thousands of external stimuli. Could their destinies be something so chilling as a weave of particles, triggering a chain of reactions that ended with a wormhole? An interesting prospect.

"Why," he said, girlishly, placing his hand against his cheek in a coy maidenly way, as if he could not bear her admiring scrutiny. "Because you have such good taste, Lady Sif."