[identity profile] allfather-odin.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] neutral_omens
Date: May 20, 2000 (Frigga Blot)
Setting: The Manor Dining Room
Status: Public (Everyone join!) 
(Also used for the writing challenge (sorry, quite long)- if you want to skip the memories, just scroll down to the (***)
Summary: Wednesday throws a party

In the bottom of Wednesday's trunk, buried under relics and runes, marked cards and false coins, is a photograph.  Its one of the few photos he owns.  Most of his memories date back long before George Eastmann (1) was born.  

Wednesday doesn't look at the picture much.  He doesn't need to.  He knows every line, could easily reproduce it if he wanted to, can see it when he closes his eyes at night.  The picture is of a woman, her back to the camera, red hair bound and keys jangling by her side.  She doesn't look much different then she did in the First Days.  Her skin is still creamy white, her posture straight.  She does not bow her head even though her hair is blown by wind.  

Sometimes Wednesday pauses, remembers before he was "Wednesday," thinks back to the days when he was Oưinn, Lord of the Aesir, Grimnir and the Terrible One.  He would travel, always searching for more knowledge, more conquests, more virginal damsels.  But always he would return to her in Fensalir.  More of a home than his own hall could ever be.  Her handmaidesn would attend to him as though he had never been away. 

She, on the other hand, was another story.  She was his equal.  Equal in wisdom, equal in ardor, and equal in spite.  She could greet him with a cold shoulder that rivaled the icy grip of Nifleheim.  Her back turned to him as she spun on her loom, weaving the fates of men.  Yet once he was back in her good graces, the doors to the cosmos were flung wide.

The truth is he always suspected that she knew more than he did, and he knew that he was probably right in the suspicion.

And he loved her.  Yes, though he loved many others, it was her face he dreamed of at night.  Her swift wit and cutting tongue that kept him sharp.  Sustained by the thought that at one time he had loved and been in love with a woman that could challenge him, always keep him guessing, and usually come out on top in the end.

He had last seen her in Berkeley.  She had always been adaptable, even more than he was.  She had her own shop; selling tapestries and reading the cards.  He had laughed when he saw her, for she was coning the marks just as he did.  The cards meant nothing, merely a prop for the grift.  It was in her tapestries that the true secrets were kept.  With the same steady hands and un-erring words, she could tell her customers their fate.  A steady point in a changing world.

He had taken the picture without her knowing.  The only photograph he ever took.  One final day in her arms, the sound of her voice in his ear.  He had snapped the photo as she walked away, her head unbowed, her hair as red as the heart of a fire, and keys at her belt that would never agains open doors.  

***
Wednesday woke up early that morning.  He had a lot to prepare.  Mead to be bought, food to be cooked, arrangements to be made.  But in the end it was worth it.  By 6pm, the dining hall no longer had the feeling of a cafeteria.  Wood smoke hung in the air.  Thick scents of meat and bread wafted down the halls.  When the old god closed his eyes he could almost imagine he was back in Fensalir.  With his wife's picture on the mantle, he traced runes.  Runes to gather all the inhabitants of the manor.  With them he hoped to celebrate her name.

(1) Inventor of the camera- (I wasn't sure if it would be too obscure.)


Date: 2006-05-28 11:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leucemic-god.livejournal.com
Loki froze. He was so damn dizzy and he'd promised not to hurt Uriel while she was pregnant. Even more important was the fact that he didn't want any harm to come to the baby, but this just wasn't fair! Uriel was supposed to uphold her end of the unspoken bargain and not start any fight either and as far as Loki was concerned pulling a weapon on someone was getting physical. One just didn't do that, if one didn't mean it.

"Odin." he grumbled. "Control your little slut, if you don't want me to hurt the brat."

Date: 2006-05-28 11:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] entropyoptimism.livejournal.com
Destruction frowned, wondering what had gone on in his absence. It had been a surprise to see Uriel female. And this "delicate condition" talk was getting him wondering...

Barnabas gave a quizzical whine as voices were raised and murmured "Are you sure you quit, boss?"

"No," Destruction replied in an undertone, "This is just like old times in the Norse pantheon. They always were fun."

Date: 2006-05-28 06:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] chantinellie.livejournal.com
"Excuse me," Ellie interrupted, hoping to derail the argument before any further damage could be done (to anyone--potential angel-children aside, Loki did in fact look as though knocking him down would be all too easy; she'd make discreet inquiries about that later, maybe) "but I believe I must take exception to that remark on behalf of all real sluts everywhere. It takes a lot more than not being a virgin to qualify, you know, the title has to be earned."

As she spoke, she shot Uriel a pointed look, flicking her eyes to the knives and back to the angel. "There's no need for those, Severer, it's a party," she added in an emphatic undertone. Put them away, you damn fool angel, you're just attracting more attention! Doesn't anybody in this fucking Manor know when to shut their mouths and walk away?

She then turned to Odin, an impish smile on her face, but trying to convey her apprehension with her eyes. "So, I take it the tradition has something to do with creative insults, then? Well, trust the Norse to come up with such a blockheaded idea and turn it into a holiday. Only a lot of chest-beating throwbacks and ruffians like you could turn rudeness into an art form."

...She was only holding one knife...

Date: 2006-05-29 08:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com
Uriel huffed at both the others' words and the loss of her knives. Of course, she still had several daggers up her sleeve -- literally -- but still, there had been no need for Odin to take the one she'd had out. It wasn't like she would have really used it.

"I'm not a child," she said, "nor am I a slut, thank you ever so much, brother." She smirked at Loki, knowing that being called her brother must annoy the trickster god immensely. "And, no offence to you, Ellie -- it is Ellie, right? --, but I do not wish to be called a slut, either. So do shut up, scarface. I don't go around calling you an idiot even though you are one, now do I?

"I'm hardly any younger than you, Odin," she then said, looking at the one-eyed god. "After all, I was there when the world was created -- well, when God created it, anyway. I'm afraid I wasn't present when your lot created the world, however you did it." She raised an eyebrow, thinking about the absurdity that followed from several pantheons and mythologies existing at the same time. "In any case, I'm not younger than you in physical sense. Of course, it's not my fault if you have become a boring old man while I've managed to hold onto my youth. Most of the time you act more like my father than my brother, you know."

Date: 2006-05-29 06:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leucemic-god.livejournal.com
"And you're sure not being a virgin or a husband to show for it isn't quite enough for an 'angel' to earn that title?" The word angel felt strange in Loki's mouth. They were just normal minor deities, damn it!

Feeling too dizzy and confused by now to deal with philosophical discussions he leaned back in his chair and left it to Odin to defend the honour of Norse culture.

"Nice doggie." He remarked to his strange neighbour who seemed to know both Odin and Asgardian customs so well. "I like dogs. They're not as cool as wolves, of course, but still nice."

Date: 2006-05-30 04:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] chantinellie.livejournal.com
"Quite sure, Cueball," Ellie said coolly. She might have added more, but there was something in Loki's manner that suggested his heart wasn't really in this debate. So she let him turn his attention to Destruction and returned hers to Odin.

"Well, every culture has its strong points," she said with a sly smile. "And most could do with a little improvement in one aspect or another. For example, in many civilized societies, it's considered somewhat gauche to vandalize the woodwork in someone else's dining room."

A far-off strain of music came to her ears then, and her smile widened. "And then again, we've talked about the early Christians and their lamentable deficiency in tolerance and good humor...but I don't think I'm really the best one to speak about that..."

The song was coming nearer, and words could be made out now, rolling forth in a cavernous basso profundo that made the floors and walls of the Manor shiver slightly in counterpoint.

The tune would be well-known to many Christians, but like so many other things, the words had been changed to bring them into line with the Church's teachings; these were the original lyrics, and they told a rather different story.

"And I came down from Heaven and I danced on the Earth,
and I danced through the nights of revelry and mirth..."

Date: 2006-05-30 07:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] no-npc-here.livejournal.com
"Dance, then, wherever you may be! I am the Lord of the Dance, said he!
And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be,
and I'll lead you all in the dance, said he!"


The doors to the dining room swung open, and in walked a being once known among men as the Lord of the Dance and the Spirit of the Winter Solstice (though he might more accurately have been termed the Incarnation of the Righteous Piss-Up.)

He was tall and broad, with a wide, cheerfully unshaven face and coarse unruly brown hair; dressed in an ordinary jacket and jeans, he gave an impression he'd have been more comfortable in bearskin, with a horned helmet or a crown of leaves and berries. Under his arm he was carrying a large oaken barrel, and he grinned at the assembly as though they all shared some hilarious secret joke that only the really cool people would understand.

"Now let me see," he boomed, setting the barrel down with a resounding thud, "who do we have here?

"I see a beautiful demoness on the arm of a good-for-nothing old relic who used to delude himself into thinking he could drink me under the table. I see his infamous partner in crime, who has finally taken my advice and changed that hideous haircut (though I must say, he's taken the idea a bit more to heart than was strictly necessary.) I see a singularly lovely angel I've not yet had the pleasure of meeting; the son of the Morningstar, may he prove less of a wet blanket than his sire; and I see one of the Eternal Brethren, who used to start the best damn brawls this world had ever seen and then leave the rest of us to clean up after his sorry Endless arse."

He laughed out loud, a sound that shouted out like a challenge to the Universe at large, I LIVE! "I believe he still owes us a round or three for that, wouldn't you say, Odin?"

Date: 2006-05-30 08:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com
Uriel smiled faintly as she listened to the others' conversation, taking a sip of her apple juice. As nobody else showed any interest in eating, she decided she could jsut as well be the one to make use of the meal her brother had prepared. She was hungry, after all, and not eating wouldn't do good for her child.

She paused, however, as she heard the singing approaching. Soon an unfamiliar man entered, an immortal of some kind although seh wasn't entirely sure what he was. Odin seemed to know him, however.

She nodded a bit in greeting, then asked with a slightly raised eyebrow, "Much as I agree on your opinion about Loki's former haircut -- not that the current one is any better --, might I be allowed the honour of knowing who you are?"

Date: 2006-05-30 03:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leucemic-god.livejournal.com
"Just what does everybody have against my new haircut?" It wasn't quite clear whether Loki's slurred comment was aimed at Destruction or the room at large, or maybe just himself.

He didn't seem to be about to challenge anyone over it, though as he continued to lazily pet Barnabas' head.

Date: 2006-06-03 07:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] no-npc-here.livejournal.com
"I was nearly gone, old man, very nearly gone. Ellie and I were introduced by a mutual friend, who seems to be in the habit of rescuing stray immortals from sorry ends," the Lord said, smiling.

He paused to take a long pull from his glass, and grimaced expressively. "Ye gods, but that's revolting. Good thing I brought the keg...it is my very great pleasure to meet you, sweet angel, and congratulations on having the good sense not to hold old One-Eye's pantheon against him. You can call me Never if you like, that's probably easiest."

He glanced at Ellie, his manner growing briefly more sober. "Where is the old sorcerer, anyway? Didn't you say he was staying up here too? Not like him to miss a good piss-up."

Date: 2006-06-03 08:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] chantinellie.livejournal.com
Ellie nodded, her brow creasing in a slight frown as she casually slipped an arm around Odin's waist, fitting herself comfortably against his side. "I can't believe he didn't feel the summons. But you know John. He's had his troubles lately, same as always. I suppose I should check in on him at some point."

Date: 2006-06-03 07:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] entropyoptimism.livejournal.com
Destruction's face broke into a wide grin. "December, old mate! Pleasure to see you back in the world. I thought my brother had unwoven you, you've been more absent than me!"

His eyebrow twitched in amusement as he continued in an exagerated stage whisper: "Although I was never convinced he wove you in the first place - he was much too prudish back then."

Date: 2006-06-03 08:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] no-npc-here.livejournal.com
"Bah. Don't take this the wrong way, Destruction old son, but your brother wouldn't know a good party if it fell on him. Either of them, come to think of it," the old spirit said with a smirk. "Still, I was sorry to hear what became of him. Give my best wishes and blessing to the new lad, if you should happen to see him, would you?"

He rubbed his hands together and looked around expectantly. "Now, what say we tap this son of a whore and get to the serious drinking? It's really too bad you got such a small turnout, Odin, but that leaves more for the rest of us."

Date: 2006-06-03 08:10 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] entropyoptimism.livejournal.com
Destruction rubbed his hands together. "Absolutely."

Barnabas raised an ear from his seat by Loki. "Are you going to be getting drunk off your face and wailing like an idiot?"

Destruction sniffed. "I'll have you know that I have a marvellous singing voice!"

He materialised a guitar and began an old ditty - old, as in dating back to Babylon - about a fair maiden and her swain.

Barnabas whined and put his paws over his ears, but looked slightly too amused about the whole thing.

Date: 2006-06-03 08:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] no-npc-here.livejournal.com
"December" laughed again and joined in enthusiastically (and slightly off-key,) in a somewhat older dialect and with considerably less polite lyrics.

From out of nowhere, he produced a bronze keg tap. "Where's Mjolnir when you really need it?" he dropped out of the song long enough to say, summoning an ordinary mallet. "Who wants to do the honors?"

Date: 2006-06-04 08:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] entropyoptimism.livejournal.com
Destruction grinned at the bald deity. "That's what my little sister said, too." He paused thoughtfully. "She is rather well represented in this room, too." He glanced quizzically down at Barnabas, who gave the doggy equivalent of a shrug and said "You know how she was when you showed up. I don't think she'll be coherent again for another year or two."

"Hm." Destruction turned back to Loki. "Wolves are actually quite peaceful creatures."

Date: 2006-06-04 08:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leucemic-god.livejournal.com
"Sister?" Loki asked. "Who's she then?"

He was feeling too dizzy to deal with this many people and now there was music playing. Or was that just in his head? "Shouldn't have drunk the mead." he mumbled softly to himself.

The stranger was still talking, though. Something about wolves being peaceful creatures. "Geri." Loki commented. "Not Fenrir. Nor Freki. They're not peaceful. They're fun."

Date: 2006-06-04 08:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] entropyoptimism.livejournal.com
Destruction shrugged. "They keep company with gods. They're more like dogs than most wolves."

Barnabas trotted over to Loki and sniffed his hand. "You," he pronounced, "Are drunk."

Date: 2006-06-04 08:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leucemic-god.livejournal.com
Loki scratched Barnabas' ear. - A little clumsily, because he was currently seeing two Barnabasses and besides wasn't quite sure where his hand was.

"Yeah. Shouldn't be drinking. He said not to mix with alcohol. Wise doggie."

The music was getting louder and his head was hurting again. "Party was a bad idea."

Date: 2006-06-04 08:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] entropyoptimism.livejournal.com
Barnabas rubbed his head against Loki's shaking hand. "You're right," he said to Destruction, "He does remind me of Delirium. She went through a bald phase last year. Well, a few hundred bald phases, really, for about an hour each."

At this point some familiar music began to drift into the hall. Destruction frowned. "That sounds like..." a smile slowly bloomed on his lips. "Well I'll be."

Date: 2006-06-04 08:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leucemic-god.livejournal.com
"Don't know any Delirium." Loki slurred. "But you're cute, doggie."

He put one arm omn the table and laid his head onto it. Thee, that should prevent him from falling off his chair, if the room continued to spin, and still leave him a hand free to pet the doggie. He gave some attention to the other ear.

"Nice and soft. Like Freki."

Date: 2006-06-04 02:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com
Uriel frowned slightly as she glanced at loki. Now, that proved it. Something was definitely wrong with the trickster. Earlier she had heard him mumbling something about "mixing with alcohol" and that the party had been a bad idea. And now, he looked just about ready to collapse, having rested his head on his arm for a while already.

Glancing around, she noticed that everybody else was mostly distracted by Destruction and Never's music -- if it could be called that. With a slight shake of her head, she pushed her plate aside*. Loki was, as far as she could tell, in need of help.

Hoping to be unnoticed by everyone, she quietly rose from her seat and walked to Loki's side. Crouching down next to him, she asked with a whisper, "Are you all right?"

---
She'd already managed to get over her worst hunger, and too much greasy food -- like about everything that was served in the party -- was, in her experience, a very easy way to make herself nauseous. The morning sickness was bad enough even without her trying her luck with such a meal.

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