Athelstan (
thralls) wrote in
asgardmeridiem2014-06-07 12:02 am
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Entry tags:
You can run on for a long time
Who: Athelstan (
thralls), Roland (
ka_sera_sera)
What: Drinks!
When: The day after Athelstan's post
Where: Freyr disctrict!
Rating: PG-13? It's a viking and a cowboy idk.
Athelstan isn't going to say no to someone offering to buy him a drink. He'd lived with the Northmen for seven years, and in that time had developed a healthy taste for alcohol and the ability to throw it back with the rest of them. The liquor here in Asgard is different from what he's used to, but for the most part, it's nothing that he can't stand.
Either way, the former priest is pretty sure that drinking wasn't the reason that Roland invited him out. To tell the truth, he's not sure what the reason was; their conversation hadn't been too terribly long. Regardless though, he'd been invited and he's here, sidling up to a barstool.
Athelstan looks- well, he's put a small effort into his appearance, pulled his hair back, slipped on a fresh tunic, cleaned his hatchet before locking it into his belt, but he still looks... well, about as out of place as a Viking in a modern bar. Regardless, he's here and he's currently looking around curiously for the man he'd seen on video the previous day.
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What: Drinks!
When: The day after Athelstan's post
Where: Freyr disctrict!
Rating: PG-13? It's a viking and a cowboy idk.
Athelstan isn't going to say no to someone offering to buy him a drink. He'd lived with the Northmen for seven years, and in that time had developed a healthy taste for alcohol and the ability to throw it back with the rest of them. The liquor here in Asgard is different from what he's used to, but for the most part, it's nothing that he can't stand.
Either way, the former priest is pretty sure that drinking wasn't the reason that Roland invited him out. To tell the truth, he's not sure what the reason was; their conversation hadn't been too terribly long. Regardless though, he'd been invited and he's here, sidling up to a barstool.
Athelstan looks- well, he's put a small effort into his appearance, pulled his hair back, slipped on a fresh tunic, cleaned his hatchet before locking it into his belt, but he still looks... well, about as out of place as a Viking in a modern bar. Regardless, he's here and he's currently looking around curiously for the man he'd seen on video the previous day.
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"I don't know. Many gods here are different, but Freyr's affinities with the... phallic things are generally his chief purpose. If things were different here, I would be surprised."
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"It's very different. My world is- well. It's the eight hundredth year of the Christian God. I've never seen anything like this place in my world." He shrugs. "I suppose... if you asked me to describe Valhalla in my own world, I would have thought of something far more brutal. It's a warrior's afterlife, is it not? The rafters were said to be made of spears, and men made at war every day, dying only to return to the feast that night."
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"I... I don't know. I haven't told any of the others of this, but..." He bites his lip for a moment, before glancing off toward the far wall.
"Before I arrived here, my people were ambushed. I ran as men died all around me. I managed to escape the initial attack and ran for hours, but- then I fell asleep in the fields and woke up here. I had thought- well." Athelstan manages a wry smile. "I had thought that coming here meant that they found me after all, that they murdered me in my sleep, but I suppose there's no way to be sure, is there?"
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"Thank you. I fear contacting them sometimes, but I suppose matters like this are important to me. Perhaps an answer will be of some comfort, no matter what sort of answer it is."
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Athelstan manages a little smile, glancing toward Roland's bracelet with a nod.
"I appreciate that. I just- I have worshiped these gods as abstract deities. Seeing them, speaking to them... it's somewhat overwhelming." But then he takes a deep breath, looking toward his own bracelet, wrapped around his wrist just above his torc.
"Still, I have spoken to Sigyn. She seems... kind. I can ask her, if I truly desired to know."
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Roland looks Athelstan over, sympathy easing into his expression. "It'd be a hard question to ask," he says, then shakes his head and leans back a little. "But this was only meant to be a friendly drink. Could I buy you something else, as an apology for turning talk toward such dark matters? Food, or another drink?"
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"I wouldn't say no to another drink. And yourself?"
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"Where I come from, the ale is stronger. But- where I come from, the men also believed that the cows in Asgard would produce beer instead of milk. Perhaps these cows are underfed."
It's a joke, and Athelstan grins to prove it, nodding his thanks as the bartender serves him his second drink.
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"The land they live on is rough, infertile. They must take what they can to survive, and so they go on raids to nearby countries, take their riches, and return home to sell them. That is how I came to be with them, many years ago. Their religion is... spiritual, and yet earthen. They believe, as the old Christians did, that spilling blood earns them favor with their gods. They sacrifice to them, hold feasts in their honor, make pilgrimages for them. The stories of their gods- well, the gods here can speak for themselves." He shrugs. "Their stories are of tricksters and warriors, wise men and lovelorn fools. Contests, skirmishes, and crafting the world from the bones of their fallen."
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"Ymir was the first jotunn. When he was slain, Odin and his two brothers created the world of man from his body. From his skull, they created the sky that hangs above us. From his bones, they crafted the stone and mountains that we climb. His hair became the trees that we see in this world; his blood the oceans that we cross."
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