neutral_omens | (no subject)

Date: November 16, 1999
Status: Public
Setting: The Bar
Summary: Wednesday reflects on his past and attains higher states of inebriation. (An invitation to anyone who would like to have a good drunken conversation.)

Wednesday grimaced as he swilled his glass of mead. He hated the stuff. He tried to remember if he always had.

He closed his eyes, and thought back. Thought back to the land of ice and fire. Remembered the taste of blood on his lips as he constructed his world. Tried to recall how it felt, all the ages of men ago. After a hard days work, getting back to his hall, harnessing the goat...

...and sipping a vaguely warm glass of mead.

Yuck.

No, even back then he hadn't liked the stuff. The endless battles he had liked. The raping and pillaging. The deception. It had all been good. Why had he tolerated the mead?

Ah, yes, now he remembered. The half-clad Valkyrie warrior-women that *brought* the mead.

Yes, he had certainly liked *them* just fine.

And Freyja. Gods, she had had it all, and in abundance. There was a woman he could respect. The love of battle had been buried as deeply in her heart as it had been in his. She was cut-throat in more ways than one.

Now, all they saw in her was a fertility goddess. A northern Aphrodite. A powerful female spirit, embodying the divine feminine mystique in all of us.

It made him want to vomit.

Humans had lost the truth. Creation and Death were different side of the same coin. Without one, the other was meaningless. What was orgasm other then a mini death?

He finished off his glass and drew some figures on the shiny bartop. He wasn't sure if it would work in this neutral zone, but it was worth a try.

Even if it didn't, company was sure to come around and join him sooner or later.

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Crowley sniffed delicately.

"Mead, light beer, potato vodka, and moonshine? You two must be really depressed. Or hard up. I think I'll stick with red wine."

He miracled himself a vintage bottle and a glass and sat on the stool provided. With thousands of years experience, he removed the cork and poured.

"Well, you both seem to know what I am, but the name's Crowley. And you are?"

Wednesday rolled his eyes a little at the bottle of red wine. Poofter. He finished off the moonshine and rolled out some Jack. The air around him shifted as the liquor began to take effect.
"I go by many names. But you can call me Wednesday." He smirked and held out a hand towards the flash bastard. "And I'm a relic."

Crowley took his hand and shook it firmly.

"Kveðja , Miðvikudagur. Einn af Norrænn Efstu svalir guð almáttugur?"*

He raised his glass.

"And aren't we all?"

*Greetings, Wednesday. One of the Norse Gods?

Wednesday's somewhat blurry eyes opened in appreciation and a wide grin lit his face.
"Það hefur langur tími síðan ÉG hafa heyra die Orð. Nú það *er* ánægja til hitta þú."* He raised his glass to Crowley in a toast. "To relics, then, and their continued survival. Without us, who would screw with the humans?"

*It has been a long time since I have heard the Words. Now it *is* a pleasure to meet you."

Laughing, Crowley said, "Now there's a toast I can get behind. To relics who screw with humans."

He clinked his glass against Wednesday's bottle. Then he turned towards the other man, glass still raised. "And you mate?"

Destruction grinned at him. "You can call me... William. William De Structen." He glanced at the look on Wednesday's face and added "And don't you say anything. I like the name William. So," he turned back to Crowley. "I believe you were the one responsible for the beer stains on my clown shoes on Halloween? Poor John really did look hilarious in those wings."

Crowley gave him his third best skeptical look.

"De Structen? Don't tell me, another personification of an abstract concept? But you're not a horseman..."

He looked at him for a moment, puzzled, then shrugged and drank some of his wine.

"Sorry. None of my business."

Then he grinned. "You liked that bit with the wings, huh? John's a mate of mine. He doesn't mind if I take the mickey out of him. Well, not too much."

Crowley held his glass aloft once more, "And how about you, 'William'? Will you also drink to relics and screwing humanity?"

"William" shrugged noncommitally. "Screwing humanity is all well and good, but relics were never really my thing." He suddenly laughed out loud. "Nevermind that, mate, I'll drink to anything!"

"Then I seem to have stumbled across some excellent company. Cheers!"

Crowley drained his glass and looked at his new companions.

"So what brings you to Tadfield, William and Wednesday?"

"What brings anyone anywhere, lad?" Boomed Destruction heartily, taking another swig from the jug. "Adventure and curiosity. Also, I've been in some very inhospitable dimensions for a few months, and I thought it might be nice to be a spectator for once. Mind you," he glanced sideways at Wednesday, "With this many old friends around, it's nowhere near quiet, eh?"

"I'll drink to adventure and curiosity. Would that my reasons were equally amusing."

Crowley refilled his glass and sipped at it.

"And quiet? Far from it. Too many damn angels around."

"You said it." He wobbled a little in his chair as he layed a hand on Crowley's forearm. "You ever make it up North? I don't remember you... not without my ravens... but I think you would have had a great time with the Norsemen. No holiness as far as the eye could see. Plenty of fun."

"Oh, not since the 1350's or so. Too bloody cold up there for frequent visits."

Crowley thought back.

"They were a fun bunch, if I recall properly, but no challenge to tempt."

"So," he said with a mischievous smile, "going to stir up some trouble while you're here?"

"Tempting, right, I forgot that your kind was into that. No, we had no need of virtue or vice back then. There were the virtues and if you abided by those you were fine. Of course, our virtues were a little different than that lucky bastard from Bethleham." He swirled his glass.
"As for the other, life without trouble is meaningless. And I fully intend to give the lives of the inhabitants of this mannor some meaning."