pantomime

[venebalder]

"Radical, I'm glad to hear but I don't know, maybe cause I didn't let you go so easily?" - Hel

“You were just doing your job. Surrendering a soul so readily would have been questionable at best. I can’t fault you for taking your job seriously.”

[venebalder]

"Yo Balder, we still kool right?" -- Hel

“… Why wouldn’t we be? You didn’t kill me.”

[venebalder]

How do you feel about what happens after death?

“It’s cold and lonely, a dull ache in one’s chest that grows as time wears on. And despite what others will have you believe, you never grow accustomed to it. You simply ... endure.”

[facinaoris]

Figures of Lore | 

Baldr, god of light, joy, purity, beauty, innocence, and reconciliation. Son of Odin and Frigg, he was loved by both gods and men and was considered to be the best of the gods. He had a good character, was friendly, wise and eloquent, although he had little power. His wife was Nanna daughter of Nep, and their son was Forseti, the god of justice. Baldr’s hall was Breidablik (“broad splendor”).Most of the stories about Baldr concern his death. He had been dreaming about his death, so Frigg extracted an oath from every creature, object and force in nature (snakes, metals, diseases, poisons, fire, etc.) that they would never harm Baldr. All agreed that none of their kind would ever hurt or assist in hurting Baldr. Thinking him invincible, the gods enjoyed themselves thereafter by using Baldr as a target for knife-throwing and archery.

The malicious trickster, Loki, was jealous of Baldr. He changed his appearance and asked Frigg if there was absolutely nothing that could harm the god of light. Frigg, suspecting nothing, answered that there was just one thing: a small tree in the west that was called mistletoe. She had thought it was too small to ask for an oath. Loki immediately left for the west and returned with the mistletoe. He tricked Baldr’s blind twin brother Hod into throwing a mistletoe fig (dart) at Baldr. Not knowing what he did, Hod threw the fig, guided by Loki’s aim. Pierced through the heart, Baldr fell dead.While the gods were lamenting Baldr’s death, Odin sent his other son Hermod to Hel, the goddess of death, to plead for Baldr’s return. Hel agreed to send Baldr back to the land of the living on one condition: everything in the world, dead or alive, must weep for him. And everything wept, except for Loki, who had disguised himself as the witch Thokk. And so Baldr had to remain in the underworld.

[munrx]

❛   five minutes of quiet   ❜   muninn MUTTERS, his wrinkled brow alluding to the possibility of throbbing temples.  ❛   is that too much to ask?   ❜

[venebalder]

Once forced to adapt to unfavorable circumstances in the past, in which quietness proved part of the picture - perhaps the biggest part - Balder didn’t fault the other male for wanting quiet; he was simply disinclined to agree with him. “Will five minutes really make that much of a difference?” An inquiry made from piqued curiosity. 

[venebalder]

gun-runner-choi:

“Stole from me, to start.”

Pressing down with the heel of his boot, just to listen to the man squeal out in pain. The sound echoed through the alleyway, and Gunner relished in it, eyes closing for a moment to listen. He sighed then, shoulders rolling, and when his eyes cracked back open, he gazed at the interloper with something close to contempt, venom on his tongue.

“Lied to me, tried to have me killed. Me, as if I’m not his fucking boss, dirty jabjong.” 

Were those good enough reasons to want someone dead? He supposed for the average person, it would be. But since the very notion of death held no sway over his actions, much less his thoughts, he didn’t find his current situation ... alarming. He’d already died once - what more could they expect from him?

“Ah, I see.” A casual observation of a dangerous scene - for the poor fool who’d not only stolen from this man but had tried to have him killed. “Well, don’t let my presence stop you from exacting your own brand of justice.” Justice. Revenge. Just plain, old desire to kill. Whatever his reason, Balder had no intentions of coming between him and his prey.

[venebalder]

little-cavanaugh:

Las Vegas was a far larger place than she had initially put much thought into. So used to the sprawling hillsides of Ireland, with its friendly peoples and its fresh air, that the flashing neon lights and the bustle of thousands upon thousands of people took her breath away. The raging maelstrom that thrummed beneath her skin became a vortex of anxiety at her fingertips and fire in her veins, and storm clouds had overcome the city. 

A picture clenched in hand, lilting accent thick between her teeth and tongue, Winona stepped into the path of the person who tried to walk past her, a begging exhaustion in her eyes. 

“Have ye seen this girl, b’chance?”

Las Vegas was the kind of city one could easily find themselves lost in, either by accident or a deliberate ploy to disappear, and it was for that reason alone that Balder wasn’t surprised when a lone woman suddenly, purposely blocked his path, holding a picture of a pretty young woman - there was something ... whimisical about the girl - up for him to carefully inspect. Rather than immediately deny ever seeing her, however, the former god of light took a long moment to study the features of the girl she must have spent quite a good bit of time searching for, judging from the exhaustion in her eyes. But there was determination in them as well.

“No,” Balder replied quietly, wishing he could have given her a different answer. “I don’t recognize her features.” A frown tugged at his lips as his piercing, cobalt gaze found the picture once more. “Is she in trouble?” One girl, various reasons for her disappearance. It was just that simple - and that heartbreaking.

[gun-runner-choi-blog]

Baring his teeth in a sharp snarl, Gunner stared at the pale haired man with contempt on his breath. He wasn’t in the mood for this sort of thing, didn’t have enough patience left to give a damn if someone saw him or not, but damn it all. Of all the people to walk in on his private business, he got a goody two shoes. 

Lifting a shoulder in a shrug, one foot shifted to be planted on the wounded man’s chest to hold him in place, Gunner slicked his tongue across the front of his teeth for a long, quiet moment. 

“You going to try and stop me?”

[venebalder]

This situation had all the makings of a volatile encounter, one that should be avoided if at all possible. But Balder was beginning to suspect that would be impossible. And this one - he possessed a pair of cold eyes. A killer’s eyes? Possible. He’d seen enough of those in his former life as a Nordic god that he could say as much with some confidence. Just not all.

“No,” he responded staidly, one blond eyebrow quirking as he considered the ramifications of coming between this man and his target. "Why would I choose to stick my neck out for a complete stranger?” As cruel as it sounded, it proved far more logical than willingly risking his life for a stranger. 

“But out of curiosity, what did he do?” Surely there had to be a legitimate reason for this poor man’s current circumstances.

[gun-runner-choi-blog]

@venebalder

The darkness was heavy in the alleyway that he had chosen as his hunting ground, with moisture clinging to the air and dotting his dark lashes, and he could taste rust on his tongue. Neon glowed from the mouth of the alley, so far away as it was, and it cast a glittering shimmer upon everything that it touched, a slant of light that he wanted to bathe in just to feel the warmth of the light upon his skin. 

Instead, there was blood on his skin, a warm splatter of it that nearly burned where it touched, and he licked his lips, tongue pulling away copper as it went. At his feet, a man quivered, crimson seeping from his skin and a low moaning sound pulling from his throat. With a jaunty whistle on his breath, Gunner twirled his pistol around until he held it proper, rather than aimed to bludgeon the man with it. 

There were footsteps from behind him though, a pause that he caught, and tilting his head back, red hair falling in his eyes, the young man stared through thin eyes at the newcomer. 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

[venebalder]

It was late, he was tired - and all he truly wanted to do was return home so that he might bury himself in nothingness again and dream of a world that was always changing, adapting to fit the circumstances ... just as he did. Because adaptation offered the easiest solution to most problems. To fight the inevitable was to invite chaos and anarchy into one’s life, and there was simply no more room in his life for such negative energy. Lay low. Keep your head down ... Coast through life on the backs of simplicity and acclimation. It wouldn’t do to call unnecessary attention to himself. He’d learned the hard way what happened to those who wished to stand out and be revered for their ... uniqueness. 

         But choosing, on impulse, to take that questionable shortcut in his desire to reach his apartment sooner ... not necessarily his best idea.

A small, slightly puzzled frown tugging at the corners of his lips, Balder looked from the man kneeling - or was he laying? - at the feet of his ... attacker? ... to the perpetrator of violence himself - and sighed. Perhaps good luck had chosen to desert him in favor of a more ... interesting companion. Not that he could blame it. He was rather dull. “I know,” the god responded calmly, his cobalt blue gaze dropping to the injured man. “Neither should he, it seems. But alas, it looks as though our good luck has fully run its course.” His had abandoned ship upon his death, the fickle thing. “Do you intend to kill him?” It certainly appeared that way.

[kahuna-kalalu-blog]

“Hm. Well, alright then. And, as for an Anāʻanā? Well, death, of course. And whatever other prayers come our way.” His grin was all teeth then, and coral painted lips, and Kal offered it with a fair bit of bite, even as sincerity lay on his tongue. “Mostly though, death.”

He was hungry though, and that was good enough of an answer for anything. Tilting his head in the direction he wanted to go, Kal took one swaying step, then another. 

“Come, I know the best little Hawaiian place.”

[venebalder]

Death. Death he knew well - intimately so. Which was most likely why he merely nodded at the other’s words, not at all taken aback by them; for death had its hand in practically everything. Why shouldn’t it be part of Anāʻanā’s arsenal of prayers? “Death, I am well acquainted with.” More than he cared to remember - but remember, he must.

But firstly, hunger must be dealt with. “Hawaiian place?” That sounded intriguing - a new experience for one who’d existed for countless centuries. “I don’t believe I’ve ever tried Hawaiian food before.” He was feeling adventurous enough to change that, however - and so he stepped forward as well, intrigued by the thought of there being a best, little Hawaiian place.

[drakongoch]

He didn’t want to go out on such a night but he found himself without much of a choice - mind he rarely wanted to go out so the lack of desire to leave the apartment that he had turned into a makeshift cave was unsurprising. Yet, he had somehow run out of food, the only source of meat left in the small apartment was himself and he would much sooner leave than watch his stomach devour itself. So he left, dodging through the tight alleys keeping all of his senses on high-alert as he looked out for both predators and prey alike.

The idea of eating a whole sheep taunted him from the back of his mind as his senses seemed to recall the times that he had hunted whole flocks to devour. Drakon quietly supposed that if a sheep wasn’t available for his consumption he would settle for buying a whole cow - or as close to it as he could get at least from the closest butcher. The sound of his feet hitting the pavement became background noise as momentarily his human thought seemed to blend into instinct and his suddenly clawed hand flew forward grabbing someone’s arm.

The growl that slipped through his lips seemed to surprise him and he took a step back both literally and figuratively, clearing his throat. “My sincerest apologies, that was not intentional.”

He could feel that his eyes were still glowing in the dim light of the streetlights and he shook his entire being as he readied for a potential fight - not that he’d blame anyone for attacking him after what he had just done. Still, he shivered in a sick sort of anticipation as the clawed hands were joined by fangs and the scales that didn’t quite make it to the surface of his skin - serving more as a dull red sheen than actual protection. “Instinct is quite the beast is it not?” he asked, though not quite expecting an answer.

[venebalder]

Before Project Stratox, Balder had spent most of his time in Helheim, listening to voluble spirits gabble about their late lives and how much they missed them - something he could relate to; how could he not when he’d fallen victim to Loki’s scheme, one which had ultimately led to his untimely and unfortunate demise? - and while he’d often sought out solitude for the peace it had afforded his weary soul, now that he was no longer deceased and given the opportunity to explore new avenues, Las Vegas nightlife called to him, the neon, flashing lights and boisterous activity on the streets giving him something with which to focus on. Far better to focus on such harmless things as that than to turn one’s thoughts inward, if only to reflect on one’s past life and the missed opportunities one incurred upon death. There was even once a time in which Balder had been considered the life of the party, so outgoing and engaging that individuals had often and willingly fallen under the spell of his smile - but that time had long since passed. He was nothing like he used to be and it showed in the way he unconsciously avoided bumping into the various people crowding the street. 

But unfortunately, that didn’t necessarily prevent them from bumping into him - or stop someone from suddenly gripping his arm; tipped with claws, a threat to one’s life. Prepared to rip his arm from the man’s admittedly tight grasp, Balder exhaled on a sharp sigh when he released him just as abruptly as he’d grabbed him, apologizing all the while. “I will admit, I wasn’t expecting that,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug; having already experienced death once, death no longer held any sway over his thoughts or emotions. “Are you having trouble with ... control?” Balder knew nothing of this stranger’s species, but given the state of his hand and the fangs that had made their appearance, it was safe to assume he wasn’t human.

[elvin-king]

“Close as siblings can be.” And then some. “I’ll keep Mar safe from anythin’.”

He nodded though, a fierce expression falling onto his handsome features. He would protect her with his own life, even if he had to protect her from herself. In the end, Marla was everything, all that his life revolved around, and Vinny would do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if that meant she was unhappy. 

“Sounds like Bond, James Bond.” A little joke, a little laugh, and the nearly murderous expression was gone from his face just as swiftly as it had come. Still, he tried the mans name on his tongue, murmured it almost silently just to see how it tasted. Not nearly meaty enough, nor was the man. Not a victim, then. “Glasgow, actually. Prettiest city in all’a Scotland.”

[venebalder]

To say that he was envious of the close bond the two siblings so obviously shared was an understatement. He used to share that same kind of closeness with his own brother - before betrayal, death, and bitter regrets had torn them apart. In fact, it had been weeks since he’d laid eyes on Hodr, and there was a part of him that was actually ... relieved by their separation, as odd as that sounded. But that was mostly due to the fact that he was the reason Hodr had lost the favor of nearly everyone in their pantheon. If not for Loki’s treachery ... “Protect her well,” he murmured solemnly, wishing he’d been there for his own brother when everyone had turned on him, blaming Hodr for his death. And they shouldn’t have. He’d been blind at the time, after all, and Balder ... He’d been seemingly invincible. How was Hodr to know that Loki had uncovered his one, fatal weakness? Even to this day, he couldn’t stand the sight or smell of mistletoe.

But at the mention of this James Bond, a frown grazed Balder’s lips, his brows crinkling with confusion. “Who is this James Bond? Is he a god?” If he was well known, it stood to reason that he would have achieved godly status.

“Glasgow,” he repeated the name, finding that he rather liked the sound of it. “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t stray far from Norway ... before all this.” He made a wide, sweeping gesture with his arm to encompass the entirety of the city. But, of course, it wasn’t just Las Vegas he was referring to. The mortals and his imprisonment could be counted among the this as well. It had certainly left a last impression on him.

[kahuna-kalalu-blog]

“Gracious you then, I’m in the presence of a God.”

He had heard rumors of such, that the great beings had been pulled down from their heavenly thrones by some curse or another. The logistics were scattered, and mattered little as far as he was concerned. Besides, the man didn’t look much like a God. 

“I always pray though, regardless of the circumstance. An ʻAnāʻanā is always prepared.”

“I try, but some days I just can’t muster the nerve for it. Usually, those are the days I don’t have to leave home.”

Lips folding together in a bit of a frown, Kal watched the other man from behind dark lashes before sighing. His grandmother would haunt him if he didn’t show some semblance of hospitality. 

“Are you hungry?”

[venebalder]

Sarcasm. Sincerity. A fine line existed between the two, often making it difficult to discern which was which. Giving one the benefit of the doubt, however, was a practice he’d once taken great pleasure in acting upon; he’d stopped soon after his death, naturally - death had a habit of putting certain things in perspective - but perhaps it was time he pick it up again. “Give it no thought,” Balder mumbled, uncomfortably aware of his own god status, or lack thereof, and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Think of me as human.” 

       Just one with a few extra ... quirks. 

  “What does an ʻAnāʻanā -” he repeated the unfamiliar word, testing it on his tongue - “need to be prepared for?” Call it curiosity, if you wished. Still, he wanted to know.

“Ah,” he murmured in understanding. “So others can’t play witness to your struggle. I understand.” And he did, for there were days he too expressed no desire to leave his home - essentially a hermit when life permitted it. When questioned about being hungry, however, he frowned slightly, confused. “I ... Yes?” He could eat, yes.

[freebird-kama-blog]

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in shame, Kama let out a sad, dramatic sigh. “I’m amazed. It’s only one of the greatest animated cinematic experiences in the world. It’s a very old film, by Disney.”

[venebalder]

“So it is,” Balder returned amicably - but still had little idea what he was talking about. “Explain this ... animated cinematic experience to me, please.” It didn’t sound like a documentary, and since film wasn’t exactly something he was familiar with ... 

“Is there a lion queen? And are their offspring called princes and princesses?” Were they crowned ... by other creatures? He was tempted to ask but refrained from doing so, not wanting to overload the other male with questions upon questions.

[freebird-kama-blog]

“I’m so hurt. How could you say such heinous things about The Lion King?”

[venebalder]

Balder offered a shrug in response to the other’s comment. “I confess, I know nothing of this lion king, hence why I inquired as to what it is.”  Were lions even capable of becoming kings? Perchance it had something to do with the law of the jungle and the title bestowed upon them at birth - by mortals.

[kahuna-kalalu-blog]

“Have you tried prayer?”

How fickle was he, how much of a hypocrite could he be by the end of the day? Enough, apparently, just enough that he could speak in soft, low tones, voice light in the mid-day air. The faint breeze ruffled his skirt, caused it to dance around his pale thighs, and Kal used practiced fingers to smooth it back into place.

“Thank you, this is one of my favorites.” Genuine delight was bright on his tongue, in the grin on his painted lips, and Kal felt a faint scrawl of pink sweep across the high arches of his cheeks. “You think it does?”

[venebalder]

Absently running his fingers through his hair, the blond strands cropped short as a rebellious act against those who’d always considered him far too staid and set in his ways to do such a thing, Balder regarded him with perplexity, slightly puzzled over why he’d brought prayer into the conversation - although he supposed it was normal to offer a prayer when in doubt or when one couldn’t help but search for answers beyond their own level of understanding. “No,” he responded simply, taking a long drag of his cigarette before using the edge of the public ashtray to stub it out. “I was never one to pray.” He’d never seen a reason to, not even after his death. “But there was a time, long ago, when I was the being they prayed to.” Not a boast or a prideful comment - just fact.

“It’s very pretty,” Balder lauded, mentally commending him on his choice of color. “You’re usually immaculately dressed, aren’t you?” He certainly struck him as the kind of individual who took great care in how they looked before leaving their house. But there was also a chance, no matter how small, that he was wrong. These days, it was quite difficult to make judgment calls based solely on appearances.

[elvin-king]

“I go wherever my sister wants me to. If they keep her, then we stay. She’s like a moth to a flame.”

She had been like that their entire lives, attracted to all things glittering and bright, beautiful things. Sad, she never seemed to realize that she was the most beautiful thing in any room, the brightest jewel that he ever saw. 

Vinny’s smile was a little bitter then, a little sad around the edges, an he took a long pull from his cigarette. 

“Vinny Rose.” Scotland curled on his tongue, intimate and deep, pulling like the smoke rings that he blew. “Pleasure t’meet you.”

[venebalder]

“You sound close,” Balder murmured wistfully, a plaintive frown tugging at the corners of his lips as he glanced askance at the male standing at his side, wearing an expression similar to his own - but not quite identical. “You’ll keep her safe from the flame, I trust?” If you couldn’t count on your own family in troubling times, then who was even remotely deserving of your trust? Then again, gods were quite renown for the dysfunctional bonds they shared with those of their pantheon. So, really, he had no reason or right to judge others based on their own familial ties.

“Balder,” he delivered congenially, followed by a nod of greeting. “Just Balder.” Such a shame, was it not, to be surname-less? “Likewise ... Where are you from, if I may be so bold as to ask? I want to say ... Ireland? ... But I have a feeling I would be wrong.”