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[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c7/22/1b/c7221bbf65bb6edf0b4a8d2a99c703d1.gif[/img]
[b][center][color=gray] 𝖙 𝖎 𝖉 𝖎 𝖓 𝖌 𝖘[/color]
[color=536878]𝖙 𝖎 𝖉 𝖎 𝖓 𝖌 𝖘[/color][/center][/b][/center][/h1][/sup]
[right][sub]location: [color=#536878]Odin's Penthouse[/color]
interactions: [color=536878]Odin[/color] | [color=795039]Týr[/color]
mentions: [color=A90214]Váli[/color][@Hey Im Jordan] | [color=008080]Thor[/color][@metanoia] | [color=007236]Heimdall[/color][@sly13] | [color=8FBC8F]Sif[/color][@Danvers] 
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When the White Wolf took his leave, Odin sighed heavily in relief. He would never speak the words aloud that he was scared of the once pup now turned man. His fury and passion as great as his father's and even more disturbing is how similar to Loki he has grown into. It would do the Allfather no favors to tip him over the edge and be on the receiving end of powerful jaws fit to rip into the Moon. A shudder ran through him.

Odin was able to pour himself another drink before his phone chimed from the counter top it sat on. A text message from Váli came at the most... not inopportune times, but with the way things were going in Seattle, it would have been best his son was not in the city. Nevertheless, he typed out a quick reply mulling over whether or not he wanted to divulge information as sensitive as divine deaths over the phone. No telling who or what could be listening in.

[quote]
To: [color=#A90214]hefnd[/color]
[color=#536878]You have no idea. We should meet soon, do you need a place to stay while you're here?[/color] [sub][code]sent[/code][/sub][/quote]

With another heavy sigh escaping him he took to sipping at the amber liquid swirling around in his glass, about to sit back down in his favorite leather seat. Time seemed to be moving at an immeasurable pace. One minute everything is moving too fast, while other times moving incredibly slow. Odin felt sluggish, and not because of the copious amounts of liquor he had ingested in a short span of time. It was in times like these that he wished to have guidance to lead him to an answer and not just the wills of a mortal shell; which most oftentimes was little to none. After being around for so long it's been hard for the Allfather to find a purpose among it all. He's tried many times to gain love and respect and just [i]time[/i] with his sons. Váli has been a success, for the most part. Odin even likes to think that it was because of his help that his youngest was thriving in the woods with his commune and business staying afloat. Odin would be remiss to think that those kids he helps save and nurture turn into anything other than upstanding citizens to whatever society they return to.


His internal thoughts were brought back to the present as he spotted a swirling mass of black and grey smoke billowing up from under the front door, a clear line of sight from where he sat; once relaxed and now on edge. The shapeless mass never formed anything more than a shadowy silhouette, but it was enough to terrify the Allfather. With all the knowledge of the world, old and new, he knew what this was. A residual effect the draugr held over him. Possibly from when it attacked and grabbed at him, his right shoulder still throbbed from the slash he received hours ago. Would he have less pride than that of the head of a pantheon he might have gone to receive treatment for said injury. But this was Odin. He might have grown in some areas, but pride was not one of them.

The fluid creature stood there at the foot of his chair, almost staring at him with no face, waiting for him to do or say something. All knowing in it's silence. Odin would not give it the satisfaction, though he couldn't ignore it forever. Once again his glass was empty and he found himself almost side stepping the black mass to get to his home bar, his back to the thing - It wasn't [i]really[/i] there to begin with... right - pouring himself a heavy handed drink. 

[i][abbr=Father]...Faðir...[/abbr][/i]
[center][i][abbr=One eyed fool]...Eineygð fífl...[/abbr][/i][/center]
[right][i][abbr=Blood brother]...Blóðbróður...[/abbr][/i][/right]

Familiar voices floated and swirled around in the space around him, echoing inside his head, screaming out to him. The translucent creature still hovering about him reached out bony claws, intent on grabbing his shoulder, to get him to see to hear. But Odin did, there wasn't anything preventing him from seeing the lifeless forms of those he holds dear flash before his mind's eye, projecting it onto the floor of his abode. Thor, Heimdall, Týr, Loki, Miss Hebe... they were there before him cycling through one another as if part of a moving picture. It wasn't enough that his own guilt tormented him, now he was being plagued by a revenant as well... if he had been more lucid he might have even pieced the creature's appearance with a certain Helheim ruler. But alas, his mind was too preoccupied trying to hide away from the visions plaguing him, yelling out at the creature and swinging violently towards it. Hoping to land a blow, just one, and falling short every time.

So consumed with his own battle, Odin didn't hear the front door open. Didn't hear the footsteps hurrying towards him, definitely didn't recognize the face of the man behind him as he swung a blade around and held it to their throat. Odin hadn't even realized he had grabbed a weapon in his haze, though thankfully, Týr was conscious enough to block the affronting attack and disarm the Allfather in one fell swoop. [color=795039]"Faðir... you are not well,"[/color] his voice was soft, but didn't hide any truths. Something Odin admired about his son and rival. No matter the situation, he could count of Týr to be level headed and righteous; even if his words weren't the most tactful. 

It brought him back to the present, to a reality that, yes, Odin wasn't doing well. He hadn't been for awhile though he wouldn't let the others know of this. It wouldn't bode well for the Norse god. Nodding his head and dropping his arms he shuffled himself back to his chair, with the help of his son - whom he was thankful for, though would never admit to it aloud. [i]Pride at it's finest.[/i] [color=536878]"Tell me, what brings you by?"[/color] A grunt was all the thanks Týr would receive, but it was an unspoken language between the two that told him that his father really was grateful. 

Nodding himself Týr stepped back a bit and gestured to the package left by the front door, dropped there in a hurry once he had seen the state of duress his father was in upon his arrival. [color=795039]"I come bearing gifts. Thought it would be best for you to inspect it in person, although holding it in my hands it is [i]definitely[/i] it."[/color] His lips curled into a pleasant smirk, reminiscent of a smile, one of joy; having found his domain weapon was something of a life long goal of his. Having it once more in his possession was like finding his missing piece and becoming whole once more. 

Odin called for him to bring it to him to examine, and though the bringer of justice was a tad bit weary he obeyed. As the Allfather inspected the sheathed blade, a golden hilt that showed no signs of patina or rust or age - it was as if it had just come from the forge, Týr continued on with the report of his travels. [color=795039]"That blade wasn't the only thing recovered in Denmark,"[/color] he started, examining his father's reaction, seeing if there was any knowledge of something else taking place overseas that Odin might have had a hand in orchestrating. When he only noticed Odin's wide eyed gaze, pure curiosity behind them, he knew that there was at least [i]something[/i] the old man wasn't spilling. [color=795039]"Mmhm. Sif has returned to us. I had one of the drivers escort her to Thor's place, figured that they would want to see each other after so long."[/color]

[color=536878]"Or you wanted her to catch him in the act of being unfaithful to her,"[/color] Odin quipped without removing his gaze from the intricate details of the sheath, though a smirk played on his lips. He would be sneaky in such a way. It was no secret how his oldest felt about his brother's wife - even back before the Fall. He had believed them to be a good match, but he was selfish and didn't need Týr distracted from his duties. Old Odin was a dick to his children, all in the hopes of staying on top and ruling over his kingdoms with an iron fist and unwavering loyalty. Let them hate so long as they fear; isn't that the Latin translation for what Odin stood for? [color=536878]"You aren't typically one for games, my son."[/color] There was a proud papa moment going on in his chest at his son's craftiness.

[color=795039]"I know not of what you speak..."[/color] His nonchalant facade broken out into wide grin, eyes twinkling with a type of mirth not familiarly spotted on the face of Justice. Týr knew what he was doing, of course he did. However, trying to convince Lady Sif of her husband's... [i]deeds[/i] the last couple hundred years or so would be doing no one favors. Besides, it wasn't his place to tell on his siblings and meddle in the love affairs of those around him. No matter how much he would have liked to have been a fly on the wall of that conversation. There was a part of him, the part that wasn't on display for others to see, where he hoped that their union would come to an end, in which case he would bide his time; offering a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen; before it was him being on the receiving end of her love and affection. At least, ideally and in the world of fabricated love stories, that would be the case. For now, Týr would support them both, an outward appearance of the good brother. The upstanding one. The bringer of justice and truth. Though it seems that they have also forgotten that he was of war long before he was of peace.

Odin sat there, stroking his face as the ancient blade sat across his lap; drink off to the side, forgotten for the time being. It was odd, strange and coincidental even, that Sif was found after all this time. No other knowledge was kept of her location - where she had been all this time. Odin would have known. Although his son didn't [i]want[/i] to see or speak with him, it wasn't difficult to know that Thor was on a long and arduous search for the blonde. His intel coming up with no results and therefore left him in a state that was less than pleasing to look upon. Say what anyone will about the Allfather, his heart broke for the loss of his daughter in law and for the heartbreak his son was going through. While Thor [i]may[/i] or may not have halted his endeavors in searching, Odin did not, and even with his eyes and ears everywhere across this earth he too was unfruitful. So to have her show up after so long, on the coattails of divine death... it screamed of suspicion.

The silence that seemed to settle between them wasn't uncomfortable, but Týr knew that it wasn't like his old man - especially if it came to familial matters. And the fact that Odin sat there, almost as if he were lost in his own thoughts and given the state he found him in not long ago made the hairs along his body perk up, sensing something was indeed going on that he wasn't privy to. Not yet at least. Voicing his questions and concerns caused the older god to turn his icy gaze upon his oldest, [color=536878]"Divinity isn't something that we can lord over the mortals anymore... at least, not our immortality."[/color]

[color=795039]"Well, that was already known, given that we need to have the Tree and the ambrosia,"[/color] Týr thought that that was fairly obvious given the first few years after the Fall when others began to age yearly as if they were mortal themselves. But it wasn't so much the words he spoke but the manner in which he spoke them, [color=795039]"What has happened since I've been gone?"[/color] It was then that Odin delved into the deaths at the luncheon, how the Festival was canceled until further notice. A killer was on the loose and they already had two godly deaths on their hands. A difficult and dangerous predator to catch. He mentioned how the White Wolf came and paid him a visit, warning him that dangers and threats were on the horizon; not only for Odin but for the Norse as a whole.

[color=536878]"You must tread carefully. We don't know what their goal is and if they were just shooting in the dark or if we were targeted specifically..."[/color] 

Clapping a hand to Odin's shoulder Týr stood from his seat, [color=795039]"You worry too much, father. They forget who it was that wielded these ancient blades once before. We will just have to remind them."[/color] Odin shook his head, diverting his gaze to his lap, head in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees. It was a strange sight to see, Odin looking so defeated... so [i]old[/i]. As divine, it was assumed that they would just live on forever. But here, now, with the weight of the deaths and the tie in with their own, how the blame would be shifted to them - [i]to him[/i] - it was a lot of anyone to bear. Man or God.

[color=536878]"I sincerely will that to be the case."[/color] Gripped the sheathed blade he held it up to his son for him to take, only for Týr to shake his head and wave it off like it was nothing.

[color=795039]"No, no. You hold on to it. I won't be heading to back to the office for a couple of days. Some unfinished business with my bed is needed,"[/color] he replied, indicating his red eye flight and the exhaustion that was overwhelming him since coming in contact with Sif until now. It was a lot to be thrown in a short amount of time. Nothing Týr wasn't used to, just... he wasn't as young as he used to be. Odin could understand that. And he did, just nodding in agreement before placing the blade back in his lap.

Another firm clasp to the back was all that Týr had to administer before taking his leave, making sure to lock the door behind him. There wasn't anything else for him to do without incurring the unhinged and exhausted wrath of the Allfather. And he wasn't in the right headspace to deal with it himself. Another day perhaps. It was a short walk from the apartments to his parked [url=https://external-content.duckduckgo.com/iu/?u=http%3A%2F%2Fprettymotors.com%2Fuploads%2F2014%2F12%2F1967-chevy-impala-from-supernatural1.jpg%3Fx52157&f=1&nofb=1]car[/url], the feel of the seats conforming to his frame was a welcoming experience. Before taking off he checked his phone, a pleasant ding emanating from his [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/da/95/52/da9552fd45373836fa1938b1f16288a7.jpg]jacket pocket[/url]. 

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[img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/73/36/51/733651b300f5a079d12ef5476281c895.jpg[/img][/right]

[color=795039][sub][i]'This night just kept getting better and better,'[/i][/sub][/color] he thought to himself with a heavy sigh, as he put the car in drive and sped down the wet, slippery streets, cutting through the misty rains as if it were fog, in search of something, [i]anything[/i] that wasn't divine related. 

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