[CENTER][color=7ea7d8][h1][b]H E L[/b][/h1][/color]
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[b][color=7ea7d8]Mentions of |[/color][/b] Odin [@KZOMBI3]
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[color=gray][color=7ea7d8]“Irina…Meyer.”[/color] Hel slowly said out loud. Her tool was carving out the name in the gravestone. Two big lamps around Hel – who was laying down in front of the grave on her stomach – made sure she could see exactly what she was doing while filing the name into the grave again. Time was such a horrible thing. It weathered everything, even the marks of the dead. Two hundred years ago Hel took it upon herself to restore graves. Back then it was harder. She only had a chisel and a hammer then. Now, with power tools, she could do ten to twenty graves a night.

A rooster cawed. Hel immediately looked up. The sun was coming up again. She breathed a sigh of relief. Another day she evaded the end of the world. By now she thought she’d be used to the sound of roosters every morning. But almost two millennia later and she still dreads the sound. But dawn was rising. She finished the grave first, then turned the lamps off and put them away. [color=7ea7d8]“Irina Meyer. Died in 1982.”[/color] The grave hadn’t been visited for nearly a decade. Hel took out a small stone from her bag. She didn’t know where this specific one came from. All the stones came from far-off places. She put it on the grave. [color=7ea7d8]“You’re still not forgotten Irine.”[/color] The goddess said with a smile, hoping it would bring some comfort to the dead woman’s soul.

[color=white]“Miss Krogh. I find you again on this beautiful dawn.”[/color] A man hollered as he drove up with his small van. [color=white]“You should try to sleep, Miss Krogh.”[/color]

She threw him a small smile. [color=7ea7d8]“I try Pedro. You know I do. How are the children?”[/color] Hel asked as she began to put away her equipment.

At the exact same time, Pedro began to take out his. [color=white]“They’re doing good! My oldest abandoning me actually. She’s going to university! If you told me a decade ago that I’d be sending my daughters to study so far away I would laugh and then prayed to make it true. Thank you for that, Miss Krogh.”[/color]

[color=7ea7d8]“It’s the least I can do,”[/color] Hel said as she stepped into her van. [color=7ea7d8]“Keep it tidy here, okay Pedro? It’s the least the dead deserve.”[/color] The man just gave her a nod before she drove off. Fifteen minutes later and she parked the van at the maintenance center of the graveyard. Her graveyard, to be specific. Though she always considered herself to be more of a caretaker of the dead than their owner.  A moment later she was in her car driving home. Another moment later and she was going up the elevator. Only now did she realize she needed a shower before heading for Hera’s luncheon.

[color=7ea7d8]“Hi Garmr.”[/color] Hel called out as she stepped into her modest apartment. In the corner of the living her dog, Garmr, lay asleep. At least he was asleep a few seconds ago. He jumped up the second he heard Hel’s voice and came rushing for her. Releasing a fart on his way home. Garmr was a rescued bulldog. He was spoiled now. All he did was eat, sleep and fart. But he loved Hel and he never, ever barked. Something that made Hel love him more than ever. She gently scratched his head as she went over the gifts that were on her kitchen table again.

The first was a set of knives she managed to procure from some private collection. It had gone through as many historians as she could find to verify their authenticity. They all told her the same thing. These were two knives that the Order of Assassins used back in the early 12th century in what is now known as Persia. Considering how much her father loved his schemes, she knew it would make for an excellent gift. Perhaps he would even try and stab an Aesir with it. Not that it would really matter.

The next gift was something she had made herself in fact. On a cushion inside a box laid a stone she had imported from modern-day Norway. For two months she chiseled, on one side, the word “family” in runes. On the other side she had chiseled the word “love” in the same runic script. She let out a deep sigh as she let her fingers trace over the words. It was meant for Hati. They hadn’t talked, she and him. They wouldn’t talk. Not until Ragnarök. Though she hoped that Loki could pass these on to Hati.

For Hera Hel had procured a beautiful bouquet of flowers. This wasn’t a piece that you’d find on a grave. The colors were far too bright. She sincerely hoped Hera would like it. After all, she went through all the trouble of setting up the luncheon to start the festivities.

These were all beautiful gifts but one was missing. Of course! How could she miss such an important person? She strode out towards the liquor cabinet and opened it up. She pulled out the cylinder marked as a 24-year-old Scottish whiskey that – according to the person she bought it from – was from a very prestigious and rare distillery on a remote island in Scotland. Carefully Hel opened the cylinder and pulled whatever was inside out.

It wasn’t a bottle of expensive alcohol. It was an ugly, grimacing wooden figure that would give a child nightmares. Hel had carved it herself. When she took it in her hands the temperature dropped in the room and Garmr started to whine and run to his crate. She’d apologize to him later. This gift she had to give first. Before her appeared a ghostly, ethereal figure of a woman with her throat slit.

[color=black]“Release… me…”[/color] She hissed.

Hel ignored her. [color=7ea7d8]“Find Odin and haunt him. Drive him insane. Now go!”[/color] She commanded, her voice was suddenly far more authoritative than any mortal could conjure. The draugr hissed again but then sunk down through the floor.

The temperature in the room quickly rose up again and farting, whining Garmr came to nuzzle up against Hel’s leg. She gently gave him some more head scritches. [color=7ea7d8]“It’s okay now. It’s gone.”[/color] Then she made her way to her shower. Half an hour later she was on her way to Hera’s luncheon. Hoping to whatever forces remained in this world that none of the Aesir would dare show up.[/color]