"Nor of yours, it seems," Loki said, disappointment and disgust contending in his tone. He had seen the boy (James, his name is James) falter for a moment, but it was not enough to be sure of anything. Instead, he was left with a bitter sense of certainty, which was becoming more and more tinged with desperation. If this was not Thor, what then? He peered at the boy, at James, needing to find some sign.
"And yet again, I find myself unsure whether you are being stubborn or merely stupid," he managed to keep his tone in check, even while he felt his mouth begin to go dry. Continuing on in this place if this was indeed a false lead, would be, well, hard. Thor had not always been a friend, or even an ally towards the end, but to have found him only to lose him? And, as if from a great distance, he felt Richard's mind twitch with breaking and entering, assault a list of meaningless phrases that came with a feeling of trouble. This act would have its consequences. He had to be right.
Loki could only think of one move that he hadn't tried. If it worked it would probably end painfully for him. Not that such considerations had ever stopped him before. He stepped forward, raising his fists slightly to be ready for any response. "You wish me to leave? Very well." He eyed the other man, then snarled out the challenge. "Make me."