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Jan. 8th, 2012

Once upon a time we could do anything. The world was ours and it was by our graces and follies that life went on. Times have changed.

The ebb and flow of life has been directed away from us. Proof positive, some would say, that we never were the pillars of creation we thought we were.

Its cold outside. My son is an idiot and I haven't seen my wife in a century.

Get off my lawn you damn kids.

Dec. 2nd, 2011

We'll be having a family get together for the holidays, darlings.

Remember this is not a choice this is an obligation.

Nov. 12th, 2011

Thoughts, plans, schemes, grand designs for the roles of his people. Odin has them all though he lacks the will to see them through. His fabled foresight has dimmed, disappeared altogether if truth was in his nature, and the barriers that existed between what was and what is blur and shift in an ever changing mosaic in his mind's eye. He has nothing more to give and cannot bring himself to say it out loud.

Instead he sits. A blanket over his lap, the wolves at his feet and the ravens perched on the porch bannister. The cold burrows into his joints, sinks in deep and makes the movements of his hands slow. He's an old man no matter how young the face he wears and his arthritis has a thousand year old feel to it.

The animals don't want to be here with him. They don't care for his reasons for sitting and watching the leaves fall from the big oak in the back yard. They'd rather be with the Watchman. The White God who has changed from keeper to almost-master would-be-master if the All-Father would give in and speak the truths that have already been realized.

We're going to need a longer rope.

Sep. 18th, 2011

There was a time when he could see everything. Reality was an infinite web of choices made and lost and the All Father could follow each thread to its end. The events of the day are nothing new to him and while he feels like himself (the old self not this modern work of folklore) for a moment when all is said and he finds the entire process to be draining, cumbersome in a way he hadn't entirely expected.

Time for a nap.

Aug. 31st, 2011

"I gotta go." The raven gets no response. Not even when he ruffles his feathers and puffs out his chest in warning. The white god has learned to ignore his companions much to Huginn's chagrin. More drastic measures have to be taken and the bird gets Heimdall's attention when he pulls a bundle of hair from the god's scalp with his beak.

"I SAID I GOTTA GO!" Mission accomplished and haphazardly flying to avoid fists and thrown objects alike Thought takes wing out the nearest open window.

"What a fuckhead." Munnin offers sleepily from her perch before tucking her head beneath her wing and falling asleep once more.

Jul. 15th, 2011

Once upon a time there were hedgehogs in North America. Two big bad wolves decided they made a prickly tasty treat.

We'll have a bonfire tonight, children. Don't forget the marshmallows.

May. 11th, 2011

He finds the Yggdrasil in on office park. There are no Norns here, no serpent to gnaw at it's roots. There are only the skyscrapers the monuments of the modern age. The temples of gods that he can't hope to understand let alone touch. This was never their place. For all the titles that he had for all that Odin once was he has never been more then a shadow in this land and looking at the stunted shrub of the World Tree their World Tree he knows that Ragnarok has come and gone.

They've been dead for a long time. It's time they start realizing that.

Apr. 13th, 2011

There are no ravens overhead. No wolves howling in the distance. If he's upset Odin gives no indication. He came to this once strange land alone and he knows that he will die in it the same way. The pieces of himself he had managed to recover were too fractured. He isn't mean to be whole again and it was the ravens growing attachment to the watchman that served as the impetus to his most recent wandering.

Loki had said that burning the World Tree wouldn't matter. No, it wouldn't. It was already dead and what Odin had sought to erase was a reminder, a withered attachment to a world that none of them belonged in.

They were waiting for the end. An end that had already happened and here they were, the ghost gods of a time not even they could accurately recall.

[Voice message left for Heimdall]

I know you'll continue not to wait up for me, darling.

Mar. 23rd, 2011

There is nothing so fragile and yet so difficult to kill as belief. Once it takes form it can take eons to die.

When Ragnarok comes you'll find no wolf to eat the sun.

I'm going to need more matches.

Mar. 1st, 2011

He leaves without a word, without a note or a care for the person he just hung up on. He leaves the car keys on his desk. The computer is left on and when the phone starts to ring again he isn't there to answer it. The ravens don't follow. They remain perched in the skeletal branches of an oak tree that had lost everything to winter's frost.

The wolves are more restless. Pacing the length of house, the yard and the long driveway that lead out to the road that they dare not tread on.

Odin's an old man, an older man now as he can't ever remember being young. He moves slower then he ever did before and even a thought said out loud takes more time then it should for him to act upon.

Feb. 15th, 2011


Delivered on Tuesday morning. The day after Valentine's.He suspects that the Watchman will try and brain him. Not that it matters. No he-wife should be neglected.


Delivered be a rather harried looking courier Wednesday morning. His day. It's a sign, not that the golden haired goddess needs his favor. Her help has been invaluable and the token is meant to express his gratitude.

Feb. 7th, 2011

He watches the ravens the physical soot colored manifestations of his own mind are more and more a thing unto themselves. He watches the wolves, Geri and Freki still hungry still greedy and they are more and more a thing they were never meant to be. He watches the Watchman, the white god with the still too dark hair.

He watches them all come together. The ravens, the wolves and the Keeper of the Bridge and the All-Father knows they remain with him because they have to. Because old habits die hard and even in the land of the free where monotheism and the Christian God reign supreme old ties still bind, old ways survive in the fading dreams of those that once lived them.

He knows that if Heimdall were to walk away the ravens and the wolves would follow him and he'd be left behind to grow old and die a forgotten man.

Jan. 25th, 2011

Someone - I won't say who - forgot to let the dogs out.

Dec. 8th, 2010

He doesn't take calls though he makes plenty. He speaks in a language he's grown accustomed to rather then what he’s comfortable with. Marketing, placement, mergers and acquisitions, contracts, profits, losses and sales pitches – these are the spells he weaves, the future he sees and the words that ground him to the here and now.

Sometimes he pokes his head out of the study, barking orders at Heimdall for any number of things; messages, lunch, has so and so called back yet?

The All-Father knows, the All-Father sees and the world the Norse had is intangible, a ghost of a past few believe in. He pushes thoughts of Ragnarok aside. In order to end the world they must first become a part of it again.

And they will.

In the most mundane way possible.

Nov. 26th, 2010

[Voicemail left for Thor]

The money wired to your bank account is not for booze.

[Voicemail left for Sif immediately after]

The money wired to Thor's account is not for booze, please help him understand this.

Thank you.

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