The Ragnarok Trials

Day Eight: Aim

Day Eight
         Aim
Focus Word: Aim
Word Count: 1815

Upon Gabriel's departure, I set about getting schnazy. After all, I had a wake to go to.

What? You didn't expect me to send Gabriel along and not make an appearance myself, did you? Nah. I had my own investigating to do, a few lines of questioning to follow, and drinking contests to initiate (and win). And I wanted to see Hod. He was Baldur's brother, and they were close despite the mistletoe incident, what with everyone blaming me and everything.

Yes, that's me! Bringing families together since...a very long time ago.

I am not one for dressing up, but I keep a suit in the closet just in case I have to. It might sound stereotypical, but I go in for the all black, bad ass look, from the shirt and the tie all the way down to the jacket and pants. Sleek, sophisticated, and so very much not me, but I have an image to protect and everyone wants to think of me as the villain. It actually looks pretty good, though, if I do say so myself.

Human women stared at me as I sauntered down the street, and I gloried in the attention. Gabriel and I might be official lovers now, but I am not above glorying in the attention of the fairer sex. I wondered if Gabe expected monogamy and hoped not. I loved him dearly, loved the feel of him beneath me, pulled close into my embrace, but I am not entirely capable of steadfastness. Not yet. Too much of my godly nature yet remains. It would have to be enough, for now, that I would not destroy the relationship just to see it burn.

I'm sure Gabriel knew. After all, he's got a woman up there, too, last I heard. All the big guys do, actually, according to the Catholics. Michael's the only one who's particularly close to his (so the guy's got a heart, after all, even if I never get to see it), but all of them have one. I would have to assume that this made it completely and totally okay to smile at all the ladies I passed on the street.

And whatever else I might do one day, when Gabe wasn't available and I wanted something a little softer in my bed.

It was pretty early, the sun maybe a finger's length above the eastern horizon, but Bacchus' joint was open. It looks even worse in the light than it does at night. One can truly appreciate the defenses he's put up, and the simplicity of his brilliant misdirection. Unlike my cohorts, with their power wrapped up in a single building, Bacchus used not a bit of his own power reserves on hiding his bar. A few official looking signs, rotting wood, and chains across the doorway seemed to work perfectly well keeping mortals away.

The magick was reserved entirely for the lock, which would only open at the touch of an immortal, just in case some stupid teenage boy decided to be adventurous one day.

"Ah, Loki, you are looking rather marvelous this morning for all the lack of sleep..." Bacchus grinned, looking up from where he was drying a wine glass. "On your way to Baldur's wake? I am very pleased to see that you are back in Odin's good graces."

I snorted to hide my alarm that he'd known I hadn't slept. Did he know...? "Odin has no good graces. He either wants to kill you or he doesn't. It's all the same to him, in the end. I have to ask, though, how is it you know I didn't sleep last night. Odin and I left at sundown. That's over twelve hours unaccounted for, from your perspective."

"I have my ways, Lie-smith. I suppose this one is innocuous enough, as you would figure it out on your own if you thought about it hard enough, but you really must keep account of what you are drinking and when. I am everywhere there is drunkenness, everywhere there is debauchery. Just as you are everywhere there is chaos, and in the lies dripping from a person's lips. We might be less, but we still are what we are. And when it comes to Old Gods, we are at our most powerful."

My eyes went wide. "Everywhere?"

"I am still mostly blind these days. All that's left are sensations, knowing...no longer seeing. In reality, it's mostly guess work. I can see more with Old Gods involved, but all it really does is remind me what I used to have." Bacchus frowned. "There's been a lot of sentiment recently, Loki. I give you this information for free because I think you can do a lot of good with it. Good that will, in the end, help me. A lot of talk of uprising. Of attempting to take back our place in society. Your pantheon is at the heart of it."

I sighed. "Of course they are. This just feeds into my thought process. Someone cut down Baldur in an attempt to silence the Norse gods. Either one of our own, smarter than the average bear, trying to keep the Angels from overreacting...or an Angel overreacting. And there's only one Angel who would overreact that way, and he's convinced I did it."

"Do you think perhaps he is trying to frame you for his crime?" Bacchus raised an eyebrow, but I could tell that the question wasn't serious. He was too smart to think Michael would do something like that. Likely, he was just testing me...seeing if I was smart enough to go where he wanted me to go.

"No. Michael is justice incarnate. He cannot be unjust, except when justice gets in its own way. And then, not on purpose. I don't like the guy, and he certainly doesn't like me, but I really don't think he'd do anything like that."

"And your lover wouldn't, either."

I shook my head, ignoring Bacchus' dig. He wanted a reaction from me, a confirmation of what he already knew, so he could spread the word as nothing more than juicy gossip I'd given up. "I don't believe it was an Angel, if that is what you are insinuating. I think someone killed Baldur to shut him the hell up. What I don't know is if he was behind the talk, or simply a sign...a warning, if you would. Against rising up and getting us all punished for a small group of idiots."

"So you don't support talk of taking back our place? You're content to remain an Old God, a relic of an ancient past?"

Damn right, I am. It's much more forgiving. "I am content to not be cut down by the current high pantheon, thank you. It'd never work. We're only here because Christ allows us to be. Humans don't believe in us, anymore...leastwise, not enough of them. We'd have faded away into nothingness without Christ and his Angels. It's not a matter of gratitude, it's a matter of practicality. We don't stand a chance against them, even if we were to all band together, all over the world, to rise in revolution. We would lose, and badly. So I'd rather not try it."

Bacchus stared at me for a moment before breaking into a grin. "You're a smart guy, Loki. That's why I like you. Now, what do you need from me? I can surmise it's not a drink...not where you're headed."

"Got a gun somewhere in this establishment?"

"Don't trust your new alliances, hmm? I thought Odin was speaking for you." Bacchus' lips turned up into a small smile. "You are not so different from what you were, you know..."

"As I have been reminded recently. It is not Odin I do not trust. He'll keep his word as long as it behooves him to do so. It's not so much that he believes that I am innocent that he fears that I am, and what would happen if he killed or attempted to kill me. Even Odin knows better than to cross the Angels." I shook my head. "It's the others. The ones that aren't so bright. Thor, for example, who'd swing that stupid hammer at me and then sputter stupidly when a fiery sword lopped his head off."

"I thought Thor lost the hammer in the Fall..."

I rolled my eyes. "No. It lost its magick, but he refused to let go of it, and it's still a great giant rock that'll crush bones. Do you have the gun, or not?"

"Of course I do. Want it added to your tab, or would you rather owe me a favor?"

Shaking my head, I laughed as Bacchus placed the weapon on the counter before me. "Add it to my tab, Bach. I know what it's like to owe you favors, and it'll have to be for something bigger than a gun to agree to one." I picked up the gun and studied it. "Beretta M9? When'd you start carrying military issue weapons, dude?"

"If it's good enough for the U.S. military, it's good enough for you, Loki. Anyway, I've got you a shoulder holster so you can hide it under that jacket of yours. And I'll add it to the tab. How will your employers feel about this?"

I finished attaching the holster and replacement magazines to my person before answering. "Taking care of myself? I'm sure they'll be fine. Plus, I've got pretty good aim, so the collateral damage should be pretty nil. As long as I don't shoot innocents, the Angels will just have to accept one of their own carrying a firearm." Grinning, I pushed myself away from the bar and toward the door. "Thanks, Bach. I'll save you some food!"

"No need. That much drinking and I'm effectively invited, myself, remember? Keep safe."

I shrugged. "They can fire away for all I care. I know all their tricks, all their foul plays, and I doubt they've gotten any smarter over the years. Plus, I've got an ace in the hole, as far as I'm concerned. And it ain't the gun." I pushed the door open then, and was out on the streets before Bacchus could react. He would know what I meant, anyway. He always did.

I would have to take care about drinking, though, when I wanted to remain secretive. Especially if Bacchus considered that his low-level surveillance technique. Considering what I knew now, I wasn't quite sure that Bacchus didn't actually run this town, Angels be damned. The thought was unsettling. Sighing, straightening my jacket to hide the presence of my gun, I headed toward the Norse building.

I had a party to go to. Oh, and a crime to solve. And lunch wasn't sounding too bad, either, come to think of it.

I just hoped it wasn't pickled herring. I really hate that shit.