The Fail-tacular Odyssey of Thoki & Lor

24: Pantheologia

2011-10-25T14:35:00.000-04:00

Eris led Thoki through a natural rock tunnel. The wind picked up and buffeted Thoki against the wall.

“Wait here,” said Eris, looking serious for once.

Thoki nodded and hunched down to receive more warmth from his coat. He looked back to see if the others were following. Lor was keeping good pace, but Slepnir hung back, uneasily.

“Come on!” Thoki said beckoning to his brother.

The grey horse shook his head and champed nervously, his ears flat against his head.

‘”Don’t be such a baby, come on!” said Thoki. He began to walk back towards Slepnir when Slepnir reared and kicked the air. Thoki knew that if he got too close one kick would send his nose into his stomach.

“Alright! Alright! But stay here in the tunnel, okay?”

Slepnir gave a hesitant agreement and lay down on the soft snow in an area of tunnel that was the least gusty.

Eris poked her head back in. “We’re good. Come on!”

Thoki hesitated and Eris turned to regard him.

“It’s alright. C’mon!”

Thoki swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and followed her. He was getting a horrendous sense of déjà vu. The clattering of chains, the dark windy tunnel, the female voice beckoning to him. In a flash he was assaulted by his memory. It was just like when he was seventeen, and visiting his father’s prison for the first… And the last time. His heart gave a sickening shudder as he remembered that horrible day. As he approached the lip of the tunnel, he shook, expecting to see that wizened old bastard again, scarred and burned by the snake venom, with the keen cruel eyes of a sociopathic murderer.

Instead he saw Prometheus’ enormous form kneeling on a rock, worn smooth over the eons. He was currently bleeding from a nasty gouge in his stomach, the edges were ragged and wrinkled with old scar tissue. The wound was staunching itself and, knowing Prometheus, the copious brown stains on his torso and lower legs were not all from today. Thoki knew his story; it was Trickster legend. Prometheus stole the sacred fire of the gods to give to his own creation, man, so that they could prosper. The gods would have let him off the hook, but then Prometheus got cocky again. He cheated the gods by burning fat and bones in offering to them and letting men keep the good cuts of meat, and for that Zeus chained him to a rock. Every day a giant eagle came to tear out his liver and eat it. Prometheus would heal and it would begin again the next day and every day for eternity. The Greeks didn’t have a Ragnarok so it only made sense that he was still here.

Jeez, thought Thoki. Loki didn’t get chained up even after he killed the sun god. He only got chained up after denying him the chance to come back. What an asshole.

Thoki looked at the Titan deep in conversation with the giant avian. They seemed to be getting along great despite the fact that The Eagle’s job was to torture him every day.

Maybe it’s some kind of Stokholm Syndrome, thought Thoki with a shrug. Thoki wondered what sort of conversational companion The Eagle was. Did they discuss events on earth? Politics? Philosophy?

The Eagle was waving his claw in the air, really getting into it, “So then Sheldon rents a karaoke machine and tries to invite other people to his house hoping that Leonard and everyone will come back from Raj’s house and hang out there again.”

“And how did that work out?” asked Prometheus.

Thoki listened in somewhat disappointed shock. He then leaned over to Eris, “Big Bang Theory? The Eagle’s relaying an episode of The Big Bang Theory to a millennia-old Titan?”

“I know. Usually they just talk about how much they miss ‘Friends’. It’s nice to know the Eagle’s moved on.”

Thoki didn’t get a chance to respond.

“We’re back!” called Eris tentatively to the two titanic entities above her.

“I see you brought him. He’s a bit short. Are you sure he’s Loki’s son?”

“If you could call it that,” said Thoki with a shrug.

Prometheus gave Eris a tiny (for him) nod.

“So, you have some questions about the beginnings of days?” asked Prometheus.

“I don’t suppose there’s any point in my beating about the bush, so I’ll just say that I’m looking for Isfat.”

“The primordial chaos from which we were formed and which we will one day return to,” replied Prometheus. His voice was sonorous and deep, like a cheesy scifi narrator.

“Sure, okay,” said Thoki with a shrug. “Know where I can find it?” he asked. “A stone at Heliopolis said it was at the Garden of Eden… I think. Where is that?”

“What would you do with it if you found it?”

Thoki scratched his head and rubbed his chapping hands. “I dunno. I don’t think I thought this out very well. I just think it’s important. It might not be the answer I’m looking for, but it might be AN answer, which is more than I got.”

“What is the question, Thoki?” Asked Prometheus.

“Why?” answered Thoki.

“Because in order to receive an answer, you must have a question first.”

“Are you kidding me with the bumper-sticker truisms here? Do I look like I need a lecture from Obi Wan Kenobi?”

“Yeah, he’s Loki’s kid alright,” mumbled The Eagle. “He may look like a pussy but I’d know that smart-ass voice anywhere.”

“Seriously though. I need a question,” said Prometheus, his voice instantly losing that mystical quality.

“That was my question, stupid! ‘Why!’”

Prometheus looked relatively interested in Thoki—the nervous smile on his face indicated that he hadn’t expected this much from him. “Why what, kid?”

“Just WHY! Why was I born? Why was anyone born? Why was the world destined to become one big disappointment after another? Why were the gods just as disappointing? Why did the One God let the pantheons do whatever the hell they wanted while the world turned to crap? Why did it still turn into crap after they disappeared and He showed himself? WHY IS ANYTHING ANYTHING?”

Thoki’s face had been paper white with cold, and was now the color of raw beef as he vented his frustration, asking everything that his mind had been torturing him with. Sweat poured down his back as he ranted, and his face stung as the string of blasphemies against all things unearthly spewed forth like angry hornets. Prometheus felt the venom in those words, the despair, the anger as Thoki let the black rotten pit inside him speak.

“Why was man made, why was heaven made? Why is everything mixed up? You know, don’t you? You were there when man was made!”

“Yes and no. I was not in the Garden of Eden, Thoki. I made man out of river mud. Also, if you recall Coyote made them from mud, or Quetzalcoatl made them from corn, or Odin from two trees. Others share that claim as well—Raven and Brahma and Atum—the list goes on! ”

“Well yeah…” said Thoki but he could only trail off, uncertainly.

“And then that’s just the creation of man. If you want the creation of the world, that goes back before my time…”

“But then… you don’t know about Isfat? When the Chaos was made into Order?”

“Well, some say it was made when God made the Heavens and Earth, or when Pangu separated the world egg, or when Ymir the giant and Adumla the cow were born from the poison and ice of Nifleheim, or when Erebus and Nix gave birth to Gaea, or when the waters of Nun—“

“Enough! Enough! I get it! So which is the real creation story?”

Prometheus gave him a pompous stare, tossing his golden hair over his shoulder in mild disdain.

“Don’t you know anything, boy? They’re ALL real.”

Thoki scowled at being called ‘boy’ like he was back in his father’s house. The anger made the answer all the harder to bear, although he’d already guessed the answer.

“You couldn’t find the source of the true creation because there is no true creation story.”

Thoki hadn’t thought of this and the idea hit him hard enough to make him sit down hard on the polished rock. “They were all lies?”

“I didn’t say they were lies, I just said they weren’t true. They’re all a kind of half-truth that goes deeper than mere facts. That makes them real. The kind of solid myth that deep-down you believe. Have you never wondered why all creation stories start out the same? They all start with void. Then the heaven and earth are separated, and then the sun and moon. Always the same. Every history has a great flood. Every History explains the fall of man from grace. Every story explains how fire was stolen or granted from the divine. The same symbols always occur as well: a great tree, serpents, eagles, death, life…”

“It’s all just nuance,” said Thoki bitterly. “It’s just racial memory of how man rose from slobbering ape to slobbering human. The gods were made by man to explain why water is wet, why fire is hot and why bad things happen to stupid people.”

“For a god you have very little insight into the divine world, Thoki,” said Prometheus gently. “And there’s one more thing that every mythology has,”

“The crap is that?”

“Heroes. Heroes have endured throughout time, within and without pantheons. You don’t have to believe in gods to believe in Heroes. And that makes them just as real and powerful as the old gods.”

“Phhff!” Thoki made a disgusted face. “It’s all crap. If there’s no true place of the creation, than there’s no true location of Isfat… which means I’ve been wasting my time since I began climbing up that tree from Nifleheim 1000 years ago.” The despair shook him and he held his head in his hands.

Prometheus sighed. It made a hot gust of air that fanned Thoki’s face and made water drip down his forehead. It quickly froze again into tiny icicles.

“Thoki you’re denser than I gave you credit for. Don’t you understand that if there’s no right location of the creation, that there’s no wrong place? Everything is connected.”

Thoki rose from his seated crouch, looking around him. His eyes fell on the Eagle… then on Prometheus’ chains. He began to pace frantically on the rock face as the wind buffeted his hood around. He no longer felt the cold as he marched in ragged elipses, muttering to himself.

“Chained to the rock… chained to the rock… there’s a connection there….eagle…” Thoki’s head whipped around towards the eagle. The bird jumped a little and ruffled its wings, startled by the man’s intense stare.

“Eagle,” muttered Thoki. “Eagle at the top of the tree… snake at the bottom…chained to the rock with the snake…snake …snake… snake from the tree tempts Eve…trees…trees. It all comes back to it.”

“Thoki?” asked Eris, looking worried.

“I know it! I know where the garden of Eden is! I can’t find Eden or your muddy riverbank, or the waters of Nun or any of that, because it’s not part of my world, but now I know it’s all the same thing! The tree of knowledge in the garden of Eden is the very same tree that Odin hung himself from to gain wisdom!”

“Now you know where you have to look,” said Prometheus with a nod.

Thoki jumped up and clapped his hand. “Because it’s right where I started from!”

“That’s right,” said Prometheus, a strange smile on his sunburnt lips.

“EAGLE!” shouted Thoki spinning to face the massive bird again.

The Eagle flinched. He had just been spreading his wings, and had hoped to take off before Thoki had remembered him.

“Yes?” asked the raptor timidly. “I suppose you want me to lead you back to Yggdrassil?”

“It would save us some time, thanks,” said Thoki with a wry smile.

The eagle sighed and began preening his primary feathers. “Oh fine.”

“Lor?” called Thoki. Lor’s head poked out immediately.

“Are we going home?” he asked brightly.

“Oh, you bet,” said Thoki. “And this time, I got you a ride.”

The Eagle looked up suddenly at the frost Giant and they exchanged beady-eyed stares.

“Oh fuck,” spat the Eagle.

23: The Fire Thief

2011-10-11T19:44:00.002-04:00

“Do you know anything about Isfat, Eris?” asked Thoki, grabbing her by the shoulders and staring intently into her golden eyes.

“Ooh! I like it when you’re forceful,” she purred, and gave him a saucy look.

“In a minute,” he said, dismissively. “Let’s try to stay on the subject for a little, shall we? Where is ISFAT.”

“At the beginning of all things,” said Eris simply.

“What’s that mean?” asked Thoki.

“It’s not a WHERE, Thoki, it’s a WHEN.”

Thoki only made a choked sound of utter incomprehension.

“You’re not thinking fourth dimensionally, Marty,” Eris quoted, making her voice gruff like Christopher Lloyd’s.

“So you’re saying that Isfat existed in the beginning… and that it stayed there?”

“That’s one way of putting it. I frankly don’t understand all of it myself you’ll have to talk to him if you want to get the whole long boring speech.”

“Him who?”

“Look, I’m trying to help you. Let’s just get you, your giant, and your horse—”

“Brother,” interjected Thoki.

“—your brother out of here first. Then I’ll take you to see him.”

“HIM WHO?”

“Who do you go see if you want to know about The Creation?”

“God?” asked Thoki paling. “I don’t want to see Him.”

“NO, stupid. You go see a creator god.”

“Okay. Now I’m really confused.”

“Just shut-up and hold my hand,” said Eris rolling her eyes.

Thoki placed his clammy hand in hers and she briefly sighed, “Men!” before the room swirled around him like it had been dumped in a washing machine tumbler.

When Thoki’s eyes straightened out, he was blinded by a field of white. He shuddered suddenly and wrapped his arms around his shivering body. As far as the eye could see was rocks and snow.

“Where the hell are we?” cried Thoki. “Are we! Are we!” echoed the looming rock faces.

“We’re in Georgia,” said Eris nonchalantly. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold.

"What like the Appalachians?" cried Thoki.

“Georgia the country, stupid, not Georgia the American state.”

“Oh.”

Lor rumbled throatily behind them and Thoki spun around. “Oh, God! Lor is still sick! We got to get him out of this!”

Eris shook her head. “You’re forgetting that Lor is a frost giant. He was getting overheated in Cairo, which was why his wounds wouldn’t heal. Trust me. This is the best thing for him.

In confirmation, Lor stood up and took in a deep bracing breath of freezing air. He then let it out in a jolly roar, grinning as the white flecks caught in his beard and tickled his face. He seemed totally at peace in himself. Slepnir’s ears flew backwards as Lor’s voice shattered the silent landscape, but he tramped in the snow and rolled in it, glad to be out in the open again.

Thoki managed a tiny grin. “I wish the cold was doing me that much good,” he said through purple lips.

“Here,” said Eris making a heavy black parka appear out of thin air. “I forget that you’re not divine anymore.”

“Nope. I’m one-hundred percent meat-puppet now,” Thoki stuttered through chattering teeth as Eris pulled the warm coat over him. He gazed up longingly at her impish face, but she simply kissed him on the nose and skipped through the snow, whistling.

“Come on!” She called after a few feet. Thoki shook his head and stamped the snow off his feet before following her. He struggled to keep his footing on the uneven terrain, slipping into hidden holes and falling face-face first into the snow. Lor trudged behind at his steady stride, and Slepnir had taken to the air to avoid tangling his legs in the rocks. Only Thoki was beleaguered as the snow attacked his legs and stung his face. The plus side was that the snow was too cold to soak into his jeans and socks. The down side of this was (of course) that it was fucking cold.

His only comfort was watching Eris’s skirt being buffeted in all directions by the chilly winds, revealing a taut round bottom in a teeny magenta thong. He wondered she knew what she was giving away for free. Knowing Eris, she probably did. Thoki shivered and reasoned that it was a moot point since his testicles were currently trying to climb back inside his body for warmth. He hoped that was reversible.

“What mountains are these?” he shouted over a gust of wind.

“We’re in the Caucasus mountain range!”

“Why does that ring a bell?” Thoki asked rhetorically.

“You’ll see in a minute, we’re almost there!”

“If you have the power to zap us anywhere, why didn’t zap us there directly!”

“I like snow!” shouted Eris with a wide grin. “Besides, he doesn’t like people just dropping in on him!”

“Him who?” asked Thoki for what seemed like the millionth time. “Why are you dancing around this question?”

“What?” called Eris, putting a hand to her ear. She might have been toying with him, but the wind was making it hard to hear anything.

“WHO ARE WE SEEING?” cried Thoki.

As if in answer, the ground suddenly shook and the powdered snow jumped like water on a hot skillet. Thoki looked back at Lor to see if he were the cause of it. Lor only shrugged and, still a little weak, raised a hand to point skyward. Thoki followed the hand and looked up.

“Holy shit!” he cried out.

“Yeah, that’s him,” said Eris.

“A titan?” shouted Thoki. “You’re taking us to see a titan?”

His wide blue eyes took in the long golden hair, the massive shoulders, the powerful legs and the sculpted brow, all fifty times the size of a normal human. “Gee, no wonder Zeus feared these guys.”

“Shh! Ix-Nay on the Eus-Zay!” said Eris as loud as she dared. “He’s still a little touchy about it.”

“About what?” asked Thoki.

“Look closer,” said Eris, guiding his vision.

Squinting against the whirl of snow, Thoki saw that the man was naked, his hands bound behind his back with very tight manacles. The manacles were chained to the enormous rock face where they were driven in tightly. The chain was very short, making it necessary for the titan to kneel or sit. He was currently kneeling, his muscles pulsing with the pain of ages stuck in the same frozen pose. The titan was very handsome despite the lines carved in his face from constant torment. Constant exposure to the elements had left him bronzed and ruddy. His hair, though long and unkempt fell like river of gold from his head. Thoki eyed the prisoner warily. He was getting an odd sense of déjà vu along with an annoying inability to remember who this was.

It was when he saw that the titan was deep in conversation with a gigantic eagle that Thoki remembered. He was in the presence of the very first trickster god — creator, deceiver, fire thief, protector — who sacrificed his freedom so that Man might live.

“Prometheus,” breathed Thoki.

22: How 'Bout Them Apples?

2011-09-27T00:07:00.000-04:00

Thoki’s inched towards Hermes until his hand was right under the Greek’s menacing shadow. From there on, Thoki shut his eyes tightly and held his breath. His hand made contact with warm flesh but something was wrong. This didn’t seem like Hermes’s hand. It was too… small. He also heard sounds of a struggle which made his eyes open again. Looking down at his hand he saw it clasped in a small slender woman’s hand. Not even Hermes could be that effeminate if he tried so Thoki decided it must belong to a woman. He followed the hand up a white arm which was floating in midair.

Thoki screamed and let go of the hand, eyeing the floating arm in horror. Slowly the arm’s owner melted into sight amidst a chorus of laughter.

“ERIS!” shouted Thoki in delight.

“You should have seen the look on your face,” Eris screamed mirthfully. She was now dressed like private-school jailbait in a tiny pleated plaid skirt, white blouse and necktie.

Thoki was relieved to see her but was holding his head as though it would explode. “I’m so sick of these deus ex machina! Can’t anyone show up sooner than ‘in the nick of time’? I’m going to have a heart attack.”

“Aw, you’re so cute when you do the pouty face!” cooed Eris, grinning.

“What’s going on with ‘the Spanakopita Brothers’ over there?” asked Thoki grinning.

“They’re fighting over another of my golden lovelies. Even the gods themselves can’t resist ‘em,” said Eris. She waved her golden ipod at Thoki and he watched Hermes and Apollo wrestling on the floor like teenagers. Currently Apollo had a hold of an identical golden MP3 player and Hermes was trying to pry his fingers off it.

“Cow theif!” shouted Apollo, clocking Hermes on the head.

“Ass-grabber!” Hermes retaliated, jumping on his brother’s chest.

“Liar!”

“Nympho!”

“Goat-father!”

“Tree-fucker!”

“Wow, they really want that iPod,” said Thoki watching them with the clinical air of an interested gambler.

“Well not everyone sees my golden iPods as iPods. It usually shows up as whatever the person really wants,” said Eris.

“What do Apollo and Hermes see?”

“iPods. When I say ‘not everyone’ I meant, ‘almost everyone’. It’s funny. People really like iPods.”

“So, shall we go?” asked Thoki with a Grin.

“Yeah, get your giant and your horse and let’s go.”

“Brother.”

“Huh?” asked Eris.

“The horse— he’s my brother.”

“The snake or the wolf?” asked Eris eyeing the octopedal grey stallion nervously.

“No he’s my younger brother, the one we weren’t allowed to talk about. He was the black sheep, well white sheep, more like.”

“He’s a horse.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s not a sheep.”

Thoki shook his head like he was trying to get water out of his ears. Apparently Eris was on another hyper up-swing. Since the Greek brothers were now in a slapping match a sudden thought occurred to him.

“I don’t suppose we could… uh…” his eyes shifted towards the empty kitchen. “Y’know. Just a quick one before we leave?”

“What, NOW? Boy, you really know how to sweet-talk a lady, dontcha half-pint,” said Eris with a hard stare.

Thoki looked at his shoes. “Yeah, I guess we’re in a rush.”

“Uh, YA THINK?” said Eris, slapping her head and rolling her eyes. “Men!” she grunted

Thoki tried to fight the blush attacking his face as he ran to the couch and tried to rouse Lor.

“Hey, buddy. We got to get out of here. I need you to get up, ‘kay?”

Lor’s crusted eyes slowly opened and he turned a yellow eye towards Thoki. “I think I’ll stay here just the same, thank you.”

Thoki fought the roiling pit opening up in his stomach. “C’mon, this is serious. I really need you to try, alright?”

Lor’s baleful stare didn’t flicker as he pondered this. “I understand, Thoki. You should go while you still can. I’ll manage well enough.”

Lor had never lied to Thoki— he didn’t have the imagination for it— but something about his last sentence made Thoki think Lor wasn’t being entirely honest with him.

“Thoki! Hey Thoki!” came Eris’s voice behind him, sounding amused. Thoki ignored her.

“Lor, you’ve got to try, buddy,” said Thoki with a shaking voice. “It’s just until we get downstairs and then we’ll hail a cab or something… alright?”

“Hey, Thoki! Thoki!” came Eris again.

“No thanks, Thoki. You have fun looking for that chaos thing. I hope you find whatever it was,” said Lor with a half a smile.

“Thoki! Look! Look, Thoki! Thoki!” Eris persisted cheerfully.

“Lor, you can’t give up on me! Why do you think I had to rescue you and take care of you? I can’t do this without you, buddy. Please. Don’t give up yet.”

“Thoki! Thoki! Thoki! Look, Thoki! Look!”

“You really want me to come?” asked Lor.

“Thoki! Hey! Look! Look, Thoki! Thoki!”

“Yes— WOULD YOU SHUT UP ALREADY, ERIS? WHAT IS IT???” shouted Thoki, whipping around to face her.

Eris was using her magic to appear like a sprite made of pixels on the dead Television screen in the corner.

“Look! I’m a Deus Ex Machina! Get it? I’m a god and I’m in a Machine!” she chirped.

“Hilarious,” said Thoki icily.

“So you guys done with your little sissy drama yet, or should I come back later?” said Eris.

“He can’t move, Eris,” sighed Thoki. We can’t get him downstairs.

“Who said we were going downstairs?” said Eris. “I can take us with my powers.”

“You can?” shouted Thoki.

“Hellooooo? Goddess?”

“Why didn’t you just say so— and don’t say because I never asked because I feel like hitting something!”

Eris stared at him without moving.

“Well?”

“You said not to say it,” said Eris.

Thoki’s eyes suddenly widened to the size of ping-pong balls as a thought occurred to him. “You’re the goddess of dischord!”

“Yes. How d’you do,” said Eris, bemused.

“YOU’RE AN AGENT OF CHAOS!!” screamed Thoki.

“Took you long enough,” said Eris with a wry smile. She snapped her fingers and there was a flash of light with the smell of burning ozone. Hermes and Apollo, were knocked out of their frenzied tussle to see the room suddenly devoid of one former demi-god, one giant, and one 8-legged horse.

“What just happened?” asked Hermes rubbing his head. There were a few large lumps on it, and his nose felt broken again. He looked over at his brother who was rubbing his jaw and blinking through a black eye.

“I dunno,” said Apollo using his rod to heal a broken finger.

Hermes’s eyes darted around the room and landed on the golden iPod near Apollo’s knee.

He spat out a tooth before spitting out the name, “ERIS!”

Part 21: Snakes and Staffs

2011-09-20T22:37:00.001-04:00

Thoki cursed and threw the King James Bible against the wall where it dented the plaster and slithered to the floor like a brained bird. He’d read it from Genesis to Revelations; he’d also read the Koran and the Torah, and even the Morman book of Moses, but he was no closer to finding what he was looking for.

“I’ll never find it!” he moaned banging his head on the table in despair.

There was a nicker from Slepnir’s direction and Thoki looked at his brother. Slepnir was looking haggard these days from lack of sleep and his current diet of decaying plywood and the living room sofa. Thoki reached out a hand and pet Slepnir’s velvety nose. The horse seemed to calm a little and his ears relaxed for the first time in ages.

“Your brother’s a clueless moron, you know that,” said Thoki.

Slepnir’s gave a non-committal toss of his head as if to say, “Yes you are, but there’s no point in getting depressed.”

Thoki gave a hopeless hollow laugh and glanced at Lor sleeping peacefully on the sofa. He’d been lying there for six days now and while his wounds seemed to have cleared up, the giant was listless and pale. He’d wake up for a few hours, eat and then go to sleep again. It was beginning to worry Thoki, and he was powerless to do anything. Lor was far too big to move, even with Slepnir’s help. Lor had expended the last of his energy just getting here. Now in this fetid, vermin-infested, poisonous apartment, he was slowly losing whatever battle raged inside his massive body.

Thoki sighed and got to his feet. After trying to rouse Lor from his sleep with little success, he began to fall back into his recent habit of pacing. He prowled through the living room, kicking up dust and insects from the rotting carpet. Slepnir watched him with the mild interest of someone whose only source of entertainment had been counting his legs.

“What am I doing?” Thoki muttered. “I’m busy trying to find some stupid place that might not even be on Earth and it doesn’t matter because if I could even figure out where the hell it is I can’t go because my giant can’t move.”

“Well that does put you in an awkward position, doesn’t it?” said the familiar drawl of a continental gentleman.

“Hello, Hermes,” said Thoki without even looking around.

“I’ve brought a friend today,” said Hermes.

With a heavy sigh, and a depressed acceptance of the death that was to come Thoki looked up.

Hermes was grinning wickedly. He didn’t have the battle scars on him from his last encounter with Thoki. The last time Thoki had seen him, he was sporting broken ribs, a hurt leg and a crushed nose. Now he looked as fit and dapper as ever in his designer jeans, silk blouse and navy military jacket. Next to him was another olive-skinned aquiline-nosed god. Thoki gazed into a handsome face that was gorgeous almost to the point of freakishness. His full lips, golden eyes, curly blond hair, strong chin— they seemed to be cartoonish on a real face. Thoki felt a hot flush rise to his face which made him furious. He knew exactly who he was looking at. The staff in the god’s hand, a golden scepter with a snake wrapped around it explained everything, including Hermes’s miraculous recovery.

“Apollo, I presume.”

“Yes,” said the god in a deep soap-opera voice.

Good grief; he sounds like an old Superman cartoon, thought Thoki with a frown.

“To what do I owe this pleasure… and with such an item as that?” Thoki asked, eyeing the staff hungrily.

“You know what this is?” asked Hermes lightly, his smile widening.

Thoki nodded. It was the magical Rod of Asclepius—once belonging to Apollo’s son Asclepius, the world’s greatest doctor. It was said to cure all wounds, and in Asclepius’s hands it could bring the dead to life. For that hubris Apollo’s son was sentenced to death by Zeus himself.

“And you know what it’s capable of?” asked Hermes.

Again Thoki nodded and his eyes swiveled to look at Lor again. “What do you want?” he asked, his throat suddenly dry.

“We couldn’t help but notice that your hairy friend over there isn’t doing so well,” said Hermes.

“He’s just a bit under the weather,” said Thoki beginning to sweat, he had an inkling of what was coming next.

“Don’t bother lying to me. Apollo is a God of medicine himself, aren’t you brother?”

Apollo nodded his golden head but said nothing.

“He’s dying, Thoki,” said Hermes simply.

Thoki nodded dumbly as he fought the bile in his throat and tried to stay upright.

“So now he’s out of the way, you can win?” gasped Thoki. “Lor’s down for the count so you come here with your big brother and his magic stick to even the odds.”

Hermes blinked before regarding Thoki in disappointed bemusement.

“Are you being deliberately obtuse or are you really just thick?”

“If I say it’s the latter will you promise not to break my nose again?” moaned Thoki. “Seriously. Why are you here? I guess if you were going to kick my ass you’d have done it by now, but… you know… the trickster tendency to go off on ADD tangents is hard to override.”

“Fair enough,” said Hermes. “Yes, I fully intend to get my revenge on you… but I’ve been instructed to do otherwise… for the moment…by my associates. I’m here to offer you a bargain.”

Slepnir’s ears cocked upwards and he raised his head to look at the three of them.

“Go on,” said Thoki. He was nervous. Hermes was the god of diplomats and compromise as well. The bastard could turn on the charm if he had to, and also knew when to press his advantage.

“Apollo here will heal your giant if you swear a solemn oath not to seek Isfat.”

“And if I don’t?” asked Thoki, a cold sweat attacking his neck and the backs of his knees.

“Then your Jotun friend dies… and you’ll be much easier to pick off by yourself,” said Hermes calmly. He fingered his own staff, the caduceus, the double-snake staff of negotiation.

Thoki looked back at his friend. Lor hadn’t stirred through the entire exchange; his shallow breathing and pasty face told Thoki that Hermes spoke the truth.

It’s over, he told himself. There’s nothing left.

The realization came as somewhat of a relief after all this internal conflict. He would never find Isfat now, but now he had other things in front of him. He might even get to get a real life after this. Maybe this promise would silence all those delusions of grandeur and malcontent that screamed at him in the night. He could just be Thoki Lokison, a boring uninteresting short man who dreamed of nothing more ambitious than pancakes with bacon.

“Alright,” he said quietly nodding.

Apollo began his manly stride towards the sofa where Lor lay when Thoki shouted out to him.

“On one condition!” he shouted.

“I make the conditions, brat,” sniffed Hermes.

“It’s just a little thing,” he said.

“This means you don’t try to snuff me out later, got it?”

Hermes tried to look bored, but Thoki saw a flicker of relief behind his olive face. With Lor back in the pink Hermes didn’t relish getting his ass handed to him again by the behemoth.

“It’s a deal. Shake on it,” he added in a low stern voice.

Thoki took a deep gulp of breath and walked towards the outstretched hand smelling of cologne and espresso.

20: Under My Skin

2011-09-12T20:31:00.000-04:00

The afternoon sun shone greyly through the grimy window panes of the dilapidated apartment. The other windows were left open to create a mouldy-smelling cross breeze. Thoki was sitting cross-legged on the stained rug examining the seven postcards of the obelisk that Slepnir had given him. The hieroglyphs were faint, the real obelisk being of sedimentary rock and several millennia old. Additionally, the postcards weren’t printed at a resolution where he could read the faded glyphs. Thoki wished he had a powerful magnifying glass to examine them but had to make do with a cracked pair of reading glasses he’d found in a dumpster.

Through squinting eyes, he tried to see through the dots composing the image to the symbols of birds, running water, and plants. He’d then copy the phonetic translation as best as he could onto a sheet of paper and checked them against the other pictures. The multiple images weren’t as helpful as he had hoped. One was shot in such poor lighting that the glyphs were invisible. Of the other postcards, four of them showed the west side. There was one shot of the north side, and the last showed the east and south sides at an angle. It was not ideal, and while he had a very good transcript of the most popular side, the other three were causing him all manner of frustration.

“ARGH!” Thoki cried, flinging the glasses onto the table and jumping to his feet. He massaged his neck and blinked his eyes to get the after-image of print matrix out of his vision.

“This is so stupid!” he shouted, kicking the wall. His foot went completely through the old drywall and left a gaping hole. Out of sheer destructive anger Thoki kicked a few more holes in the wall, a wicked smile creeping across his face as he sent clouds of white plaster into the air and watched the mice and cockroaches scurry to safety. He laughed at their terror and fueled by their terror, he started really laying into the wall, laughing and hooting. He was stopped by the ceiling lamp dropping onto his head. It’s mooring in the flimsy plaster had become cracked and dislodged by Thoki’s rampage.

Thoki picked himself off the floor shaking the broken glass out of his hair and cursing a blue streak.

“Feel better?” asked Lor weakly from his prone position on the couch.

Thoki shot him a dirty look. “Shut up,” he snapped.

“Sorry,” mumbled Lor before drifting off to sleep again.

Thoki felt a stab of guilt as he saw just how badly the giant was doing. Lor hadn’t moved from the couch in over two days. He could barely lift his head to eat the stale food Thoki had scavenged that day. Thoki ran to the 2-gallon jug of sterile water he’d stolen and carefully poured a measure of it into a cracked souvenir mug. He rushed back to Lor and shaking the giant until he stirred, he helped Lor drink.

Slepnir was curled up in a leggy heap on the far side of the living room.

It was obvious to Thoki that Slepnir was only putting up with Lor for Thoki’s sake. The horse had fought enough Jotun to be terrified around the frost giant and try as Thoki might, he couldn’t convince Slepnir that Lor was harmless. Slepnir had instead decided to stay in the corner in a constant state of terror. It had been wearing on the horse for the last few days and he looked exhausted and worn to a frazzle.

Thoki stood on the rotten carpet and surveyed the sleeping giant and his recalcitrant brother. A sudden wave of depression hit him and he ran to the bathroom to spit out the vomit rising in his throat. He caught sight of his haggard face in the mirror. Infrequent meals and sleep had made it lose some of its childish roundness. There were now harsh angles, jutting cheekbones and hollow circles around his eyes. His fair hair was filthy and greasy, making it look more reddish brown than its usual blonde. His cool grey eyes were red-rimmed, making the irises look almost white. Most shockingly, Thoki recognized a different face behind his. It looked like a haggard tired face that been constantly tortured by slow-working poison. He was beginning to see his father Loki lurking under his skin. He backed away from the mirror in shock and the not-Loki in the mirror did the same. He watched as the familiar face broke down in the unfamiliar expression of despair. Large tears rolled down the hollow cheeks, leaving white tracks in the grime and splashing into the sink.

“What the fuck am I doing?” Thoki asked himself. “We’re trapped in this pit while I try to figure out what the key is to an entity that may or may not destroy the universe… I don’t even know why I’m doing this anymore. I was so sure a few months ago… and now… I don’t know.”

The face in the mirror frowned and looked more Loki-ish than ever. It spoke to him in a low whisper. “It’s because you’re trapped in this pit. It’s for all the hardship you’ve suffered and been made to suffer. It’s to show the world that you’re not a doormat anymore. That you’re capable of greater things.”

“Maybe I don’t want that anymore,” Thoki argued. “Maybe what I want is to get a job and a house and a wife and just live my life.”

“In this economy? You got to be joking! Besides that shit is for people with papers and numbers and credit scores — something you’ll never have. Face it. You don’t belong here. You’re just a prisoner here.”

“I don’t have to be. There are people who forge those things. I could get some fake papers and … and then…”

“And then what? You think Eris would want you then? You think she’d be content with a 3 bedroom, 1 ½ bath townhouse? You think she’d be impressed if you had a 9-to-6 job in data entry. You think she’d want… KIDS?”

“Maybe,” said Thoki, but both his warring halves knew it was bullshit. He then brightened up, “Maybe Hnoss—?”

“After you ditched her? I doubt it. Besides, she’s dead now.”

“Is she?”

“Does it matter? You’re never getting Hnoss back, stupid, and Eris doesn’t settle down. Face it. Your only chance of ever getting laid again is if you’re the top dog.”

“It’s not just about getting laid, asshole,” he told himself.
The face in the mirror agreed. “It’s about getting everything else too. Respect, fear, money, power… even love.”

“It won’t get me love,” he sighed.

“It might. Who’s to say?”

“Who’s to say I won’t find it anyway if I were to just forget the whole thing. Maybe Hnoss and Eris aren’t an option, but maybe there’s a nice mortal girl…”

“Who loves tiny men with tiny dicks? Keep dreaming, shorty. Face it. You’re basically fucked in that department. Now if you were rich and powerful….”
“Shut up! Shut up and stop thinking with your penis, dumbass!”

“You’re right. We should be thinking about Isfat instead.”

“WHY? WHY does it matter??” he screamed. “Why do I have to risk my life and the lives of my brother and my friend for something that I don’t even know what it is?!?”

“Because you have to,” he said. “You HAVE to. It’s part of you… it calls to you when you sleep at night. It won’t let you rest. It won’t give you peace until you’ve exhausted every fiber of your being to find it. That’s why.”

The mirror spoke in tandem with him as he said it (as mirrors always do). Both he and the Loki under his skin were in absolute agreement as he said the words. And he knew it was true. It was something beyond his dim comprehension. It sought him. He was powerless against it.

Defeated and twice as depressed as before, he slumped back into the living room and plopped down on the floor before the coffee table. He glanced at the hieroglyphs he’d penciled out and then snatched up the page in a feverish rush. It was like the optical illusion of the old lady. He kept trying to see the young lady’s face but instead kept seeing the old woman. Now at second glance he could see her. The saucy curve of her neck, her eyelashes, her dark hair, she was looking away from him coquettishly laughing at him for not being able to see her before. Everything was clear now. He had been trying to read the glyphs in ancient Egyptian, but it had seemed like gibberish. It was only when he glanced at the phonetic words written in roman letters that he realized the truth. It was a poorly written attempt to mimic words in Ancient Hebrew.

Pulse pounding, he wrote the words again in Hebrew, and came up with this poorly worded phrase,

בראשית היה תוהו.

Thoki reassembled the words properly in his head and heard them again in Anansi’s dark penetrating voice:

“In the beginning, there was void”

Thoki stared at the words. “That bastard, Anansi was giving me a clue… Hebrew text…” Thoki felt an icy pit in his stomach. He was dimly aware of the Hebrew deity that was somehow different from all the other Father gods. He had once thought him akin to Zeus, and Odin and Osiris and all those other big beards in the sky but for some reason He escaped definition. He made Thoki nervous.

“Hey, Lor?” he said.

Lor stirred and mumbled questioningly.

“Where would I find a copy of the Torah?”

“I don’t know,” said Lor.

“Where does one normally keep holy books?” asked Thoki.

“In a place that’s holy… or a place full of books.”

Thoki shuddered at the idea of going into a synagogue. There was only one option left.

“Looks like I’m going to the Library,” he said.

“Just like old times,” said Lor with a smile.

Tragedy In Norway

2011-07-23T09:38:00.000-04:00

A lot of my readers are from Norway so I'd like to post that my heart goes out to your country and your people after this terrible tragedy. I fell in love with your country when I was a little girl and it seems unthinkable that such evil could befall a beautiful harmonious land like Norway.

You will be in my prayers.

~Monica Marier

19: Fetch

2011-06-28T12:19:00.000-04:00

“I got him,” said Thoki jogging up to Slepnir. Lor was standing silently behind Thoki. It was hard to tell if he was lost in thought or just lost.

Slepnir shied away from the giant, snorting.

“Of course I don’t expect you to carry him,” said Thoki. He tried to sound reassuring, but really Thoki was disappointed. He had thought that maybe Slepnir had some sort of super-strength that would have solved this problem. Looking at the horse again, however, Thoki realized that there was no way that Lor would even have fit on Slepnir’s back.

“We can just… um… fly… on… er… broomsticks,” he finished lamely.

“Like Harry Potter,” gasped Lor.

Thoki sighed at Lor’s failure to grasp sarcasm.

“Damn it. Looks like we’re walking,” muttered Thoki.

A bone-splintering howl penetrated the eerie silence and his head shot up in alarm. There was a loud blast and a blistering wind as something exploded and burst into flames knocking Thoki to the pavement.

Standing silhouetted against the light of a burning car was Fenrir.

“…or running. Running is good,” said Thoki, scrambling to get his feet under him.

“I gotcha now, runt!” roared Fenrir.

Slepnir screamed and reared; the whites of his eyes shone in the flames. In one fluid movement, Lor scooped Thoki up and tossed him onto the horse. As soon as his backside hit Slepnir’s flanks the horse’s eight legs became a blur. Thoki looked around to see Lor standing stalk-still against the billowing clouds of illuminated smoke.

“Lor! C’mon!” he shouted.

“I’ll hold him off!” Lor shouted back.

“NO, you moron! I came back to GET you!” Thoki screamed over his shoulder, but Slepnir had gone too far away. Thoki grunted in frustration before grabbing Slepir’s mane and trying to make him turn 180°. Three of Slepnir’s legs followed suit but the other five wanted to keep going forwards. Thoki hit the pavement, jarring his injured arm and knocking his head on the concrete.

Slepnir untangled himself and, ears flat against his head, he screamed at Thoki.

“We have to go back!” said Thoki from the ground.

Slepnir pawed the ground menacingly.

“I mean it! Every time Lor and I split up, everything goes wrong! We’re going back!”

The horse snorted and tossed his head.

“Look, you can of dog-meat! I know I can’t fight Fenrir, but I can’t leave Lor to face him alone.”

Slepnir’s head lowered. He looked ready to charge.

“Go ahead! I don’t care! Don’t you get it? I don’t care what anyone does to me anymore! I’ve already been tortured, humiliated and killed. There’s NOTHING anyone can throw at me that will make any difference now.”

Slepnir stepped back a little, his head cocked to the side.

“I dunno about that. Maybe I just don’t know when I’m beat. But I’m not afraid of Fenrir anymore. The worst he can do is kill me… and I’ve been there already.”

Slepnir shifted between looking forward and looking back, torn in indecision.

“Do what you got to do,” said Thoki.

Slepnir gave Thoki a sheepish stare before galloping away at full clip.

“Can’t say I blame you,” sighed Thoki as he picked himself off the ground and started loping back towards Lor. A sudden idea came to him and he changed course towards the police station’s back door.

“Fenrir might be able to tie me into a pretzel knot… but he’s dumber than a sack of hammers,” Thoki muttered to himself with a thin grin. His heart wasn’t in it. For all his bravado about not being afraid of Fenrir, Thoki knew something he hadn’t told Slepnir — it was all bullshit.

When he came out of the station again, he saw them — two titans locked in mortal combat. Fenrir had let his wolf-side take over and was now biting and clawing at the Jotun in a frenzied fury. Lor’s arms were straining against the wolf’s power, sinews standing out like writhing snakes. Sweat glistened off his ruddy face in the orange light as he withstood Fenrir’s onslaught of blows. He didn’t give one inch of ground, he didn’t cry out, and he didn’t budge, but he wasn’t fighting back either. To do that would have given Fenrir a chance to claw at his stomach or throat, which would have finished him.

He was losing.

Thoki realized it instantly and knew he had only a second to act. He clutched the item he’d fetched from the police station in his sweaty hand.

“HEY, STUPID!” shouted Thoki.

Both Lor and Fenrir stopped fighting for a fraction of a second to look at him, and with an inward groan, Thoki realized that he should have probably been more specific.

“FENRIR!” he shouted and the wolf’s head grinned at him.

“Rrrrunt!” he growled through canine incisors. Fenrir couldn’t talk very well in this form. “I’m frough playin’ wif dis Gian’,” he spat. His jaws snapped closed around Lor’s head and with a violent shake, let him sink to the ground. Thoki froze, suddenly unsure of his plan.

“NOW ITF YUR TURN!” he shouted crouching to get a powerful start to his charge at Thoki.

Thoki gulped and held the item aloft as high as he dared.

Fenrir paused ever so slightly.

Thoki squeezed it.

It went, “SQUEAK.”

Fenrir skidded to a halt, starring at the fluffy pink, slightly bedraggled Mr. Babbington in Thoki’s hand.

“You want the toy?” asked Thoki in a bright excited voice.

Fenrir gave an excited whine, while hanging back a little, as if to say, “I would not be averse to having this toy, yes.” His tail betrayed him as it thumped the sidewalk causing large cracks to spread through the concrete.

“You want the toy?” Thoki asked again, waving the pig invitingly.

Fenrir whined again and lifted a forepaw. The concrete under his wagging tail now had a crater the size of a punch bowl.

“Who’s a good wolf?” said Thoki squeezing the pig again.

A large pink tongue, like a giant hagfish, lolled out of Fenrir’s mouth as he rolled on his back in a show of good will.

“You want it!”

“Yeah!” shouted Fenrir.

“You want it?”

“YEAH!!!”

“GO GET IT!!!” shouted Thoki, and reaching his arm as far back as it would go, threw as hard as he could.

Thoki’s stomach sank as Fenrir launched himself in the air and caught the pig in mid-arc. To his surprise, however, Fenrir trotted back to Thoki and dropped the very wet pig in his hand. He bounced in anticipation.

“AGAIN!” barked Fenrir.

“Kay,” said Thoki wishing he could throw harder. Another idea struck him and he reached his arm back for a second time.

“GO GET IT, FEN!” he shouted. Fenrir followed the projected arc and took off, his claws sending chunks of cement flying as he sped away.

As soon as he was out of sight, Thoki ran to Lor’s side. It didn’t look good. Lor’s face was covered in blood and his breathing was shallow and labored.

“You okay, buddy?” asked Thoki, more out of blind optimism than any real hope.

“I been better,” Lor managed weakly.

“Shit. We have to get out of here before Fenrir gets back. Can you walk?”

“No,” said Lor. Thoki briefly reflected that Lor was the type to say, “I’ll try” or “I can manage.” The fact that he cut through niceties to the bald truth scared him.

Just as Thoki was about to dissolve into hysterics at his hopeless situation, he felt a tug at his sleeve. He turned in time to get a wet, snotty nuzzle from Slepnir.

“Came back, did you?” he asked sourly.

Slepnir implied nothing, as he leaned down to let Lor grab his mane. In a few painful movements, they managed to drape Lor over Slepnir’s back and were now making awkward progress down the pavement. They moved as quickly as they dared and their impeded speed drove Thoki nearly insane as he expected any minute for Fenrir to come barreling at them, teeth bared.

“Fenrir gon’ com’ back?” mumbled Lor.

“I hope not.”

“S’been a while. Did you throw farther then?” asked Lor.

Thoki reached behind him and pulled out the plush pig that had been crammed into his belt.

“The only lesson my Dad ever taught me: If you can’t win, don’t play.”

After what seemed like hours (but was in fact 24 minutes), they arrived back at the flat they’d been squatting in. Lor dropped onto the couch that was moldering against the wall. Thoki looked around for something to clean his wounds with. Slepnir stood out of the way began eating a rattan basket.

Lor was already looking better, his Jotun blood made him damn-near impossible to kill, much to Thoki’s relief. It was just as well since there was nothing to treat wounds with around the flat but filthy carpet and a toxic-looking bottle of ancient furniture polish

“Goin’ take a nap for a while,” mumbled Lor.

“That’s fine. Go ahead,” said Thoki with a sigh.

“Sorry everythin’s gone wron’.”

“It… it’s okay. I’m beginning to think this Isfat thing isn’t worth the trouble,” said Thoki with a catch in his voice. “I just wish… I wish I could have gotten a look at that obelisk.”

As Thoki angrily wiped away an escaped tear he felt warm breath snuffle on his neck. He looked up to see Slepnir with something in his mouth.

“Whatcha got there?” he asked his brother, taking the scrap of paper from him. It was a damp postcard. The address and text blocks were blank, indicating it’d never been used, but turning it over, Thoki stopped dead. On the picture side was a crisp clear photograph of a phallic tower hewn from ancient red sandstone.

“It’s a postcard of the obelisk?” Thoki gasped, laughing in hysterics. “I-I-I can read it! It’s right here!” he stammered. “But it’s just one side of it.”

Six more cards fluttered down from Slepnir’s mouth. They showed the Tower at various other angles and light.

“You did it!” shouted Thoki. He jumped to his feet in feverish excitement and hugged Slepnir’s neck. “YOU DID IT!! You are the BEST freaking brother EVER!!”

Slepnir nuzzled his cheek happily.

“Where the hell were you keeping those?” Thoki asked in amazement.

18: Frozen Tears

2011-06-20T22:15:00.000-04:00

Thoki circled the police station on Slepnir until one fact struck him.

“Why are all the lights out?” he wondered aloud.

Slepnir, of course, didn’t answer but Thoki felt his coarse hair stand up. He whined as if to ask, “can’t you feel it?”

Thoki did feel it. Great gusts of cold air were rising in circles from the building. The icy drafts were punching the warm dry air and causing whirlwinds that buffeted the flying horse. Slepnir was forced to draw back from the darkened edifice. Overhead, there was a rumble of thunder.

“Something’s not right,” said Thoki shivering in his thin cotton shirt. It was then that he noticed the blanket of silence over everything. It was after midnight, true enough, but there wasn’t a single dog bark or a lone car’s headlights. Not even a whirring insect or a chittering bat. It was as if all life had halted.

“Can you bring us in closer?” Thoki asked his brother.

The horse tossed his head and grunted in the negative. Thoki noticed how the horse’s powerful muscles were writhing under his gleaming coat. Flecks of foam were starting to dot his hide with the effort of keeping aloft in the wild wind. Another flash of lighting struck home a few miles away and the air tasted of burning ozone.

“Set me down then,” said Thoki. “I’ll have to go in myself to get him.”

Slepnir touched down and let Thoki slide off his back. As soon as Thoki was on terra firma however, the horse began to pace and champ anxiously. His eyes rolled back in horror at the deserted plaza where the dark building stood. Thoki too felt revulsion at the heavy pall and it gave him goosebumps and made his legs sweat. There didn’t seem any fear of getting caught by humans, the station doors were wide open and strewn with debris. Thoki squinted as he saw a flurry of white in the dim night.

“Snowflakes?” he mumbled.

Slepnir snorted and reared a little.

“Calm down,” coaxed Thoki. “Stay here and wait for me. I’ll try to be as fast as I can.”

Slepnir whinnied and tugged Thoki’s sleeve with his teeth.

“If you’re that frightened, leave,” said Thoki, somewhat harshly.

Slepnir bowed his head and looked contrite, but he still fidgeted nervously.

“Alright then. Just lay low. I won’t be long,” said Thoki patting his brother one last time before screwing his courage and jogging to the door. He reached into his torn tunic and pulled out Mr. Babbington. There was some blood and horse-spit on the plush pig, but it was otherwise intact. Lor would have wanted that.

Thoki shook his head angrily. He was already thinking about Lor like he was dead. That was bullshit. Lor wasn’t dead he was just incarcerated… in a grim creepy African police station which was snowing right now.

“Oh fuck,” sighed Thoki in distress as he took a deep breath and stepped in.

The cold air slammed into his face like a freight train, fragments of ice stinging his cheek. Icy wind roared past the front desk and whistled through the halls and the cells. Thoki blinked at the dim white shapes casting their own queer light in the darkness. It was like being inside an iceberg — everything was in muted greens and blues. Thoki made his way to the desk, hoping to find a flashlight, or failing that, something he could set on fire. He tried flicking on the desk lamp, but as he suspected the whole building’s power had gone dead. He rummaged in the drawers and pulled out a two-foot long electric torch. Switching it on, he tried to discern where the cells might be.

He hadn’t gone more than a few yards when Thoki felt something hard beneath his foot. He aimed his torch downwards and squinting in the darkness he just barely made out the shape of a policeman. The man was huddled in a pose of terror and supplication, his eyes staring ahead at some horror. Thoki looked in the direction the man was facing, trying to see what had frightened him, but there was only dim shadows and white drifts in that direction. It was then that Thoki realized that the man was dead. He had been frozen solid by something that caught him so unaware that he hadn’t had time to shut his eyes.

Thoki shivered from more than the cold this time and fought the vomit rising in his throat. As he walked through the police station, he saw more corpses frozen in various activities. Some hadn’t even had time to recoil and were simply paused in mid-stride or mid-sentence.

“What could have done this?” he mused aloud. His voice was snatched up by the wind and tossed away.

When he found his way to the cells, finally, he saw the source of it all.

Lor was standing upright in his cell, a spikey crystalline giant, twice the size of the red-headed lump he usually was. He wasn’t saying anything or doing anything. He was simply standing there, black currant eyes blinking in the darkness… as large crystalline tears slid down his faceted face and smashed on the frozen concrete.

Thoki gasped and the cruel air burned his lungs and stung his throat.

“Lor?” he called out against the howling wind.

Lor shifted a little, his joints making the sound of ice-flows grating together. His onyx eyes took in Thoki, struggling to keep purchase on the slick floor as the wind beat at him.

“Thoki?” he asked. His voice sounded like the wind howling around them — hollow and mournful.

“You got scared again, didn’t you?” said Thoki, trying to keep the terror out of his voice.

Lor nodded. “I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I thought I was all alone again. I didn’t want to be alone again.”

Thoki managed a small smile through his shivering blue lips. This was just like their first meeting. Thoki had climbed up Yggdrassil to Jotunheim to find the whole ice-world empty and deserted… except for one frost giant weeping frozen tears and mourning the fact that he was alone.

“You’re not alone, Lor. I came back.”

“Is it really you?” asked Lor, plaintively.

“It’s really me! I came to get you,” cried Thoki. “Because… because you’re my friend!” He didn’t know why he said it — he felt like a damn fool saying it like that — like some God-dammed preschool kiddie movie. But it was true. He had to say it. More importantly, he had to stop Lor in his inadvertent rampage if he was going to leave the station with his toes intact.

“So what do you say, Lor. Can you keep it together, so we can get out of here?”

“I didn’t mean to kill all the men,” said Lor looking about to blubber again.

“I know you didn’t,” said Thoki nodding. “It was an accident. Come on.”

“One of them was very nice to me,” said Lor as he slowly raised one foot and set it down in the beginning stages of a glacial walk.

“These things happen, I guess,” said Thoki. Already the wind was starting to die down. “No point in dwelling on it.”

“That’s not true,” said Lor suddenly.

Thoki glanced up to see the giant looking more fleshy and less frosty, but there was a spikiness to his appearance and a fierceness in his eyes that made Thoki shrink. He suddenly remembered just how much the Aesir feared the frost giants of Jotunheim and in a flash knew why that was.

“No life is so worthless that it’s not worth dwelling on Thoki,” Lor said with unusual loquacity. “Every life we encounter teaches us more about ourselves.”

Lor reached down and picked up the frozen body of Daud from the floor. One last frozen tear slid down his face and landed with a “plink” in Daud’s arms.

“What did he teach you?” asked Thoki, pointing to the late Daud.

“Forbearance.”

Thoki looked around at the rime coated cell bars and the snow covered floor. “Forbearance. Right.”

“I think I learned it more in retrospect,” sighed Lor.

Thoki shook his head in confusion. This new philosophical Lor was making him uneasy.

“Let’s go,” pleaded Thoki.

“Alright,” agreed Lor as he lumbered after Thoki without another word.

“Good grief,” muttered Thoki looking around him again in the dim light at the frozen bodies.

Lor only sighed.

“You always do this when you get depressed,” said Thoki shaking his head. “You can’t let yourself get so worked up.”

“Sorry,” muttered Lor, looking more like his old self again Thoki noted in relief. He still carried the stiff body in his arms, though.

“Hey, cheer up! Look who I brought to see you!” said Thoki, pulling Mr. Babbington out from under his shirt again.

Lor brightened up at the sight of the fluffy pink pig. “Mr. Babbington?”

“Yep. Guess who wants a big ol’ hairy hug?” said Thoki proffering the pig to the giant. Lor gently laid Daud’s body on the ground and reached out for Mr. Babbington. He reverently took the toy from Thoki’s fingers and held it aloft. His currant eyes were round and joyous as he stroked the soft pink plush with one of his huge sausagey fingers.

His face grew sober again, however, and his brow furrowing he seemed to debate something internally. Finally he lovingly kneeled down and placed the pig in the cold lifeless arms of Officer Daud Latchkara. He patted the piggy on the head like a dog he was discharging to guard something precious.

Without another word Lor lumbered out of the police station with Thoki on his heels looking bewildered.

17: The Book of Lor

2011-06-07T14:59:00.002-04:00

Recap: Lor was tricked by Hermes and bound by Gleipnir, the unbreakable cord that once held Fenrir. He is now in the hands of the Egyptian authorities. Thoki, in the meantime has been reunited with his half-brother Slepnir (an 8-legged horse). Slepnir and Thoki are plotting (through various pantomimes and hand gestures) a rescue attempt.

Officer Daud Latchkara was worried. He got the distinct feeling that something weird was going on. First of all, the guy in the holding cell was seven and a half feet tall, and well over 400 lbs. His partner, Hicham, thought the man was probably American. They had a lot of fat people, right? But the red-bearded giant wasn’t fat, he was just HUGE, and the few phrases he spoke were in perfect Arabic. Granted, it wasn’t a Cairo accent. Daud would have been hard-pressed to put a country or region to that accent, but there was no stutter and no mistakes. It was slow and deliberate, but it seemed that everything this giant did was slow and deliberate.

Daud was more worried about the man’s bonds. He and Hicham had tried every implement in the station; scissors, nail cutters, box cutters, and a pair of gardening shears from the janitor’s closet. All were lying in a sad broken pile on his desk. Whatever was tying this poor bastard up, it was unlike anything he’d ever seen. In sad defeat, they helped the Giant hop to one of the cell beds where he lay without moving. His little black eyes blinked reflectively, but he did little else.

Despite the man’s terrifying stature, Daud felt nothing but empathy for him. This moron was obviously the victim of some targeted crime — maybe because he looked so odd.

Daud clanged his tray on the cell bars to announce his presence.

“I’ve brought you some food,” he said.

“Thank you,” said the man.

Daud was momentarily stymied by the fact that the man’s hands couldn’t even take the tray. “Looks like I’m going to have to feed you then,” he sighed. With a few groans, he sat on the hard floor and ripped off a piece of the pita.

“I would appreciate it,” said the Giant meekly. His stomach answered with a rumble that Daud could feel through the floor.

“So what’s your name?”

“Lor.”

“Lor what?”

“Lor Torsson.”

“Ah, you’re from Scandinavia then? Or are you German?” asked Daud, giving Lor some of the lentil stew on a piece of pita.

“The first one,” said Lor, after swallowing.

“Sweden?” guessed Daud.

“I don’t know. It was first a lot of countries, and then one big country and now it’s four or five. It’s hard to tell. Anyway, I never saw much of the land part anyway.”

“Did you live on a boat?” asked Daud, confused as he gave Lor some of the cheese.

“No, I lived in another world apart from this one. It was made of ice and snow… and more ice,” said Lor.

Daud paused, his hand hovering in the air. Some of the lentils fell off the soggy bread and landed on his pants cuff.

“I’m sorry?”

“I came from Jotunheim, land of the Frost Jotun. Every day we waged war on humans and the gods and when they weren’t around to fight, we fought each other.”

Daud tried to fight against the impulse to jump to his feet and run away. Clearly Lor was insane. Daud tried to regain his calm, reminding himself that the man was tied up and couldn’t do anything to him.

“There a lot of you Jotun?” asked Daud. Maybe this was a gang he was part of… or a cult.

“No. I’m the only one left,” said Lor.

“Oh,” said Daud, sighing in relief as he held up the glass of water with a drinking straw. At least there weren’t a throng of large red-headed men walking around Cairo.

“So why are you the only one left?” asked Daud.

“When the Frost and Fire Giants descended on Asgard we were picked off by the Aesir, who were like nothing we had ever seen. I tried, but I was outmatched almost at the beginning. I had relied too much on my strength… and didn’t expect to fight a woman.”

“A woman?”

“Skadii, goddess of mountains and skiing. She was practically Jotun, a true child of snow and ice… and I was not prepared.”

“Did you fall in love with her?” asked Daud, checking his watch. Where the HELL was the second shift?

“No,” said Lor, to Daud’s surprise.

“You didn’t?

“But I didn’t want to fight her. I didn’t want to stamp out that light. So I ran away.”

Daud didn’t know how much credence to give to any of this until Lor sighed mournfully. Suddenly there was a chill in that stifling cell. Daud had only seen snow a few times in his life but there was a metallic tang to the air that he recognized as the hairs on his arm rose. It smelled like snow. He lifted up the glass of water to give Lor and then dropped it. It was so cold that it burned his hand.

The glass shattered on the concrete floor but there was no splash of water. Instead there was a cylinder of ice rolling across the floor; a straw was sticking out of it like an antenna. Looking up at Lor, Daud screamed. The Giant was covered in frost and ice, like freezer-burned leftover wrapped in foil. His eyes were still alive and sparkling, but his beard was now frozen into crystalline spikes — or were they? The more Daud looked at Lor the more it seemed that Lor was made OUT of ice. His muscles were becoming smooth facets on pale glittering skin the colour of milk.

Closing his eyes and grunting loudly, Lor made another valiant effort to break his bonds. With a loud cry that shook the police station the taut ribbon snapped and fell rigidly to the floor.

Daud spun around on the slick floor and scrambled out of the cell, slamming the door shut. Skidding to a halt at his desk he lifted up the phone just as the power flickered and died. He waited for the back-up generator to kick in, but nothing seemed to happen. He was trapped in the dark in a freezing cold station with a monster made of ice.

Daud offered any prayer he could think of to Jesus, Joseph, Mary, and Saint Michael to keep him safe. Every second he felt certain that the cell door would go flying across the room like crumpled tin foil and the icy giant would tear through the station... but there was only silence.

Screwing up his courage, Daud grabbed an electric torch and cautiously approached Lor’s cell. The giant was still lying on the cot, head on his arm, staring at the wall. He was free of his bonds, but otherwise nothing seemed to have changed.

As Daud relaxed a little and summoned up the courage to yell for Hicham downstairs, he heard a stifled sob from Lor’s cell.

“I ran away,” Lor whispered.

16: My Brother, the Horse

2011-05-31T09:21:00.000-04:00

Recap: Thoki was just menaced by his half-brother, Fenrir, in an ambush. Thoki narrowly escaped when his youngest half-brother Slepnir appeared and flew him to safetey. They were unabe to rescue Lor, however, who was tied up in unbreakable ropes and left for the police.

Slepnir, alighted gracefully atop the roof of a nearby apartment complex. Thoki scrambled off his back and turned to look at his estranged half-brother. After a moment’s awkward silence, Thoki dove forward and embraced him. Slepnir returned the gesture by nickering and chewing on Thoki’s hair.

Slepnir was another parasitic shoot on Loki’s warped family tree. The eight-legged horse’s origin had its roots in a bizarre bout of circumstances that could ONLY happen to omnipotent deities. In summary, Loki’s gift at shape-shifting resulted in his becoming Slepnir’s mother. Loki was thoroughly ashamed of his foal and Slepnir was immediately pawned off on Odin. One of the few times Loki had ever spoken to Thoki like a son was when he was forbidden to go anywhere near Odin’s stables.

Thoki was afraid of horses and shyed away from them as a rule, but this outright ban on the stables made them all the more attractive to young Thoki. Filling his pocket with carrots, he ran down to the stables at night to find Hermod the stable-master fussing over a thin fuzzy thing that seemed to be made of knees. It freaked Thoki out, thinking that it resembled more of a spider than a horse, but the forlorn look on the foal’s face was unmistakable as was the quiet resignation on Hermod’s broad face.

“It won’t eat,” he said gruffly. “I’ve seen it before. The poor thing is heartbroken.”

“I think I would be too if I suddenly found out my mom was a red-headed son of a bitch who said ‘let’s dialogue about that’ all the time,” said Thoki.

Hermod said nothing, but his mouth twitched a little. “We can’t help our family connections,” he said.

“Is he going to die?” Thoki asked. It seemed to Hermod, that the inquiry was less out of concern than out of academic curiosity.

“He may. You want to try?” asked the stablehand, shoving the bucket of mash into Thoki’s hands. He gave Thoki a look that said, “surprise me,” and then walked out of the stable.

Thoki sniffed at the bucket and wrinkled his nose. “No wonder you’re starving. Look what they’re feeding you,” he said, dropping the bucket. He pulled out the carrots from his pocket and offered them to the horse. The horse sniffed the vegetables and then nibbled them experimentally. He seemed to like them but was having trouble chewing through the tough orange flesh. Thoki thought about this, and then grabbing a carrot and chewing it thoroughly, spat the whole thing into the mash bucket. He offered the premasticated carrot and mash to the foal, who gobbled it up appreciatively. Thoki finished up with the rest of the carrots, spitting the chewed-up chunks into the pan.

“I know this is gross, but this is how they invented mead, so I guess it’s okay,” said Thoki through crunches. “So you’re another one of Loki’s mistakes, huh?” he mused.

The horse looked up at him with large dark eyes. It didn’t speak — it wasn’t designed for speech —but it had very expressive eyes that seemed to say, “you too, huh?”

“Yeah,” sighed Thoki. “Me too.” The horse extended a mash-covered nose and nuzzled Thoki’s face.

“Hey! Stop it!” laughed Thoki, trying to keep foal away.

Since that day, they were true brothers. They were never thrown together much. When Slepnir grew from a colt to a Stallion, Odin lent him to any Aesir that needed him and Thoki was never included in that circle.

In fact, up to now, on this wild night in Cairo, Thoki had never ridden him.

Thoki clutched his dislocated arm, hissing with the pain and looked over the rooftops, trying to discern what was happening in the park. It was no good; he and Slepnir had flown too far away to see what was happening to Lor. All they could see was the distant wink of police lights.

“We have to go back for Lor!” he shouted , spinning around to look at the horse.

Slepnir’s ears swiveled back and his eyes grew wide.

“No, I’m sure Fenrir took off,” said Thoki.

Slepnir bared his teeth.

“I’m pretty sure,” admitted Thoki.

The horse trotted in a tight circle for a moment, then came back and nuzzled Thoki’s bad arm.

“I know I’m hurt! But I can’t leave him alone! He’s bailed me out so many times… I just can’t leave him.”

Slepnir cocked his head and nickered.

“What do you mean, that doesn’t sound like me?” asked Thoki in annoyance. “What did you’d think I say?”

The horse fell on the ground, rolled onto his back, and put all eight legs up in the air, like a cartoon corpse.

“Oh, ‘ha-ha.’ Very funny,” grumbled Thoki as Slepnir rose again and shook the dust off his dove-grey hide. He then nuzzled Thoki’s face again.

“Of course, I’m happy to see you,” said Thoki quietly. He accidentally bumped his left arm and bit back a wave of nausea. “You’re the number one person I’d have wished to see again.”

Slepnir gave him a penetrating look.

“Okay, maybe you’re the second person,” he said with a wry grin. The horse shook his head in exasperation. “Of course, a DOCTOR would be pretty high on the list right now,” Thoki added, looking mournfully at his useless arm.

Slepnir seemed to consider this. He then turned 180°and backed up to a yard’s distance from Thoki.

“What’re you doing?” asked Thoki warily.

Slepnir didn’t answer but hopped onto his forelegs before his third hind leg kicked Thoki’s elbow upward. There was a sucking sound and a sickening squelch while Thoki’s scream bounced off the rooftops. He was holding his shoulder, which felt like it had been dipped in red-hot lava, and his elbow

“WHAT THE HELL?” he screamed at the horse.

Slepnir screamed at him.

“Are you a trained medical specialist? I don’t think so!” countered Thoki.

Slepnir reared just a little to look menacing.

“Yeah, it’s in, but what about nerve damage? What about this gigantic bruise on my elbow? You could have shattered it, you eightlegged can of dogfood!” Thoki flexed the fingers on his left hand and tried to swallow the vomit rising in his throat.

Slepnir, champed but looked contrite. He cocked his head to the side again.

“NO, I don’t want you to reset my nose! Are you insane?” Thoki shouted, covering his face protectively.

Slepnir shook his head.

“SURE you weren’t gonna kick it. If it’s all the same to you I like it broken,” Thoki said. “Now what are we going to do with Lor!”

(Whinny)

“Yeah, I suppose he’s safer in jail than he is with Fenrir. Thank God we’re not in Turkey or France. But I still can’t leave him there! …He needs me,” Thoki said as realization stole over him. I think I need him too, he thought.

Slepnir cozied up to Thoki, who finally accepted that the horse wouldn’t try any more first aid and patted his neck. Slepnir sprayed him with a tiny shower of horse-snot, but Thoki’d endured worse today.

“I know he’s a giant, but hey we’re half giant,” said Thoki. “We can’t help how we’re made.”

Slepnir cropped off some of Thoki’s hair and chewed it thoughtfully. Just as Thoki began to feel something in his left arm other than searing horrendous pain, Slepnir jumped up and ran in a circle. “You know someone? Who?” asked Thoki.

Slepnir bowed, so his short brother could clamber onto his back again.

“What do you mean, we’ll see?” asked Thoki in annoyance. But only had his rear-end nipped due to Slepnir’s impatience. “Seriously, WHO? I don’t do surprises, Slep.”

The horse shifted under Thoki until his weight settled comfortably. Then with a piercing whinny and a stomach-churning lurch Slepnir launched himself into the air again.

“Thank GOD I don’t have to roll down any windows to be sick out of,” said Thoki through white lips.

Ep 15: The Fourth Son

2011-05-24T09:31:00.000-04:00

Recap: Thoki wants to get to the obelisk of Heliopolis to see if there are any clues to finding ISFAT, the primordial chaos. Hermes and Robin Goodfellow are trying to stop Thoki from realizing his plan ; they’re worried that ISFAT could undo the fabric of reality. Currently Hermes has Lor in his sway with the help of a plush piglet named Mr. Babbington.

Hermes waved the plush piglet tantalizingly in front of Lor. Lor’s tiny currant eyes were alight with child-like wonder.

“That’s right, Lor. Be a good giant and put Thoki down. Then you and Mr. Babbington can go play,” he said in his deep musical voice.

Lor seemed powerless to object as his large hammy hand reached onto his shoulder and lifted Thoki by the collar of his shirt.

“WOAH! HEY! PUT ME DOWN!” screamed Thoki fighting both Lor’s hand and his strangling collar. “Lor!” he pleaded, “Don’t listen to him! Snap out of it, buddy!” Lor’s arm continued in its slow deliberate arc towards the steps where Hermes and Goodfellow were waiting.

“That’s it, Lor. Mr. Babbington is very pleased,” said Hermes watching Thoki eagerly. A dark delight was stealing over his handsome features and his eyes flickered dangerously. Thoki glared at the Greek with unadulterated hatred.

Alright, you feather-footed freak, Thoki thought. Two can play this psychotic game.

“Lor! Don’t do it! It’s a trap!” cried Thoki.

Lor actually paused this time. “Trap?”

“Can’t you see that their forcing Mr. Babbington to say those things?” moaned Thoki in an overly theatrical voice.

“They are?” asked Lor, eyes wide.

“What are you doing?” hissed Hermes, frowning.

“Mr. Babbington is their prisoner, Lor!” Thoki wailed like a sibyl.

“No he’s not!” insisted Hermes in a childish whine.

A sudden thought struck Thoki and he manipulated his voice to sound high and squeaky. (It also had a British accent for some reason.) “It’s too late for me, Lor! Save yourself!”

“Mr. Babbington?” cried Lor aghast. His eyes began to tear as he surveyed the little fluffy pig in Hermes’ hands. The Greek was staring at the doll in shock.

“But I—”

“Be brave Lor! This is how I want to go!” said Thoki in Mr. Babbington’s voice.

This was more than Lor could stand and the giant burst into noisy tears. Large drops cascaded down his cheeks and pooled in his thick red beard. Unbeknownst to Hermes, despite the fact that Lor was mourning the fate of an inanimate pink piglet, a fire was slowly being banked in his stegosaurus-sized brain.

“Tell my wife I love her!” squeaked Thoki, pushing Lor further. This time Lor went over the edge.

“YOU LEAVE MR. BABBINGTON ALONE!!!!” roared Lor.

Hermes didn’t have time to move out of the way before Lor swatted him 30 meters into an ornamental palm tree. The pig turned a few lazy circles in the air, before landing in the giant’s waiting hands.

“I’ve got you, friend!” cooed Lor, hugging the pig tightly.

“Well done, Lor,” laughed Thoki, grinning at Hermes trying to pick himself off the ground.

“Another crumpet, Mr. Crowley. I haven’t eaten since Rome Fell,” the God mumbled in Greek before giggling and falling over.

Thoki shook his head, before remembering that he had TWO tricksters to deal with.

“You want a taste, Puck?” Thoki snarled at the other.

“Not particularly. NOW!” shouted Goodfellow. A long white ribbon fell over Lor. Two shadowy figures darted out from behind the obelisk. Thoki recognized the American brothers, Raven and Coyote, as each grabbed a ribbon end and circled Lor like a maypole.

Lor was trapped in his embrace with Mr. Babbington as the cords bound his arms to his body. Thoki could only look on helplessly as Coyote and Raven pulled the ribbon taut. The brothers exchanged a high-five before joining Goodfellow. Oberon’s son took the ends with them and pulled until his muscular arms rippled like cooking bacon. In a few short moments, Lor had tumbled to the concrete.

Lor struggled and grunted against his bonds, but it was no use. Thoki was speechless. He had seen Lor break out of ropes before, even chains and those little plastic garbage-ties the police used (if he was given a few goes). But this simple silk ribbon didn’t even stretch.

“What the hell did you tie him up with?” shouted Thoki.

“A special cord, Thoki,” said Hermes limping towards the other tricksters. “You might be familiar with it. It’s made from a cat’s footstep, a woman’s beard, the roots of a mountain, the sinew of a bear, the breath of a fish, and…”

“…The spittle of a bird,” finished Thoki feeling lightheaded. It was the cord that had bound his brother Fenrir all those years ago and kept him prisoner until Ragnarok. “Gleipnir,” he breathed.

“Yes,” said Hermes his face contorted with glee and pain. He was clutching his chest like a few ribs had been broken and his leg had taken a good deal of punishment as well.

“But how did you get Gleipnir?” asked Thoki.

“FROM ME,” came a raspy voice behind Thoki. Spinning around Thoki saw a large hulking shadow loping towards him. Thoki broke into a cold sweat as his eldest brother, Fenrir advanced on him. If Thoki thought Lor was huge, it was nothing compared to Fenrir. The wolf-man wasn’t much taller, but he seemed to take up so much space. His presence was like a black hole that sucked in all rational thought, leaving you petrified. You felt powerless to move or think — there was nothing to do but stare at him blankly until he ripped out your throat.

“Hello, runt,” said Fenrir through pointed canines.

“Hello Fe—” Thoki wasn’t given the chance to finish as Fenrir lunged for him. Thoki wasn’t ready, but some part of his brain was, for he leaped out of the way just in time to avoid his muscle-bound brother. Fenrir was strong, but slow, and it took him a moment to stop his momentum. He managed to bank a wide turn before rounding on Thoki again but “the runt” was prepared this time.

Thoki leaped on top of one of the cement pylons around the obelisk and jumped over his brother. This time, Fenrir used the pylon to make a tight turn, ripping the post out of the ground as he did so. The four tricksters only just had time to jump out of the way as Thoki scrambled towards the Obelisk.

He had intended to leap down again, before Fenrir could rally, but a glyph on the obelisk distracted him. There, in the ancient sandstone, nearly worn away from the wind and rain of the ages, was the word, ISFAT.

Thoki froze and tried to read the rest just as a large meaty hand slammed his face against the red rock. He felt a hot and cold sensation in his face along with a dull burning, and he knew his nose was broken. He felt something hard rolling around in his mouth and spit out a tooth. Thoki tried to make sense of what had just happened but everything was a swirling miasma in his head, muddled further by the wooshing sound in his ears. Then he heard Fenrir’s laughter and remembered.

“Are you going to kill me?” asked Thoki.

“Probably,” said Fenrir. “You didn’t listen to my warning.”

“I’ve never listened to you,” said Thoki.

“True. I always had to do this, first,” said Fenrir, grabbing Thoki’s thin wrist and rotating the arm. There was a sickening snap of tendons and the scrape of bone against bone.

Thoki screamed. He’d tried to keep it in — he’d really tried —but the pain was more than he could bear and it burst out of his chest and went flying into the night sky.

Lor heard it and sobbed.

Hermes stopped laughing and succumbed to his own injuries.

Goodfellow covered his ears.

Raven and Coyote drew a little closer to each other — suddenly the night didn’t seem on their side anymore.

Even Fenrir blanched as the echoes of Thoki’s cry bounced off the huddled buildings and minarets. Slowly lights began to illuminate the windows. People were shouting into the darkness.

“Who’s out there?”

“Are you alright?”

“Do you need an ambulance?”

“No! Call the police!”

Only seconds later there was the wail of sirens and the flash of cruiser lights.

The humans were taking the night back.

Fenrir, felt the unfamiliar paroxysms of fear and relaxed his grip on Thoki. Thoki struggled out of his hairy hands and ran. He’d only gotten a few feet when he remembered Lor strung up like a honey-baked ham and ran back. Thoki thrust his dislocated arm inside his open shirt to keep it from moving around as he jumped over pylons and wrought irons chains to the dais where the obelisk sat. Fenrir and the tricksters were gone, but Lor was still in a rolled-up heap on the concrete, struggling against the unbreakable ribbon.

“Hang on, Buddy, I’ll get you out!” said Thoki in a choked voice as his free hand struggled uselessly against the bonds. He heard voices shouting and Arabic and approaching footfalls. The humans were coming. He began to panic and tugged fruitlessly. Hot tears rolled down Thoki’s face, mingling with the congealing blood from his broken nose. He couldn’t even slip a finger under the cords.

“Go, Thoki! Take Mr. Babbington,” said Lor mournfully as his bulk strained against the ribbon to shift the pink piggy. Thoki pulled with tremendous effort and managed to get the toy out of Lor’s grip. Hope buoyed at the possibility that Lor might have some wiggle room now, but it was dashed as he heard the clatter of shoes surround him and the clicking of hand guns.

“Police! Freeze!” shouted a policeman.

Thoki sighed, rose to his feet and put his good hand in the air still holding Mr. Babbington, while the other flopped limply at his side.

“You’re under arrest for disturbing the peace, destruction of government property, and trespassing on national park grounds.”

Thoki nodded and stepped forward.

That was when he felt a sharp tug on the sleeve of his elevated hand. To his utter surprise (and the surprise of the policemen) he was pulled into the air. He felt the fibres of his loose cotton shirt start to tear and that’s when the dropping sensation took over. He was plummeting towards the obelisk when he felt his backside land on something hard, but pliant… and moving.

Daring to open his eyes again, Thoki realized that he was on a horse …and the horse was flying. Anxiously he looked around for a rider, expecting to find a Valkyrie behind him, but he was alone. A sudden thought struck him and with utmost care (made all the more imperative by the lack of a saddle) looked down to count the horse’s legs.

“One, two, three, four… five… six… seven… eight —SLEPNIR!!” he shouted, hugging the Horse’s neck warmly. Thoki’s little brother, Slepnir the eight-legged horse, whinnied in response.

Ep 14: Mr. Babbington

2011-05-10T12:00:00.000-04:00

Ratatosk scurried up the gnarled back as fast as his sharp claws would take him. Occasionally he’d pause and cock his head as if thinking, “Did I drop off the rent cheque.” Being a squirrel, however, rent cheques weren’t a concern and thus decided, he’d break into a run again, until he was simply a blur of red fur on the world tree, Ygdrassil. He was going to insult Eagle today. That was his job. There was a constant war between the eagle roosting in the top branches of Ygdrassil, and the dragon eating the roots at the bottom. The two had never met, and each would probably have ignored the other if not for Ratatosk. It was his job to run insults from one to the other. It had been fun at first, but the eagle and the dragon were sadly unimaginative when it came to hurling slurs. After nearly 3,000 years, it was getting old.

Currently they were stuck on “stupid head.” Ratatosk was about to deliver (for the 6,782,411^th time) the message, “no YOU’RE a stupid head” from the dragon.

On his various trips he saw things; things on Earth and things above and beneath it. And for Ratatosk, seeing was saying. It was impossible for him to think anything without saying it aloud. He’d scramble over root and twig uttering a constant babble of chatter. This, supposedly, was the beginning of rumours.

One month ago he’d seen something interesting, and had run on his trip downward muttering,

“Well, well, welly, well! Loki’s third son is on earth now! He broke out of Hel ages ago and has finally made it to Earth. He’s looking for The Chaos! I wonder what that will mean. I wonder if he knows what it would mean. “

A large clawed hand had snatched him off the bark and brought his twitching nose up to a hair face.

“What was that about my brother,” growled Fenrir.

Now, a month later, Ratatosk saw something else that made him chatter incessantly to himself.

“Loki’s fourth son is coming to Earth! Well well well!”

Ratatosk is one of the reasons why humans only just tolerate squirrels.

***********

“Are we ready?” asked Lor.

“Soon,” sighed Thoki. He hated this.

He’d been pondering plots and plans all afternoon. Getting to the Obelisk would be tricky a second time, and this time Hermes and Goodfellow would be waiting for him (possibly with back up). Everything had jumped into his mind from disguises to distractions, to a zip-line suspended from minarets, but they all fizzled. Sadly “Lor running up and hitting people” was the strongest plan and the others didn’t even come close.

Thus resolved, they decided to wait for the cover of night. People might be assholes, or the gods might be invisible, but jailtime sucked and witnesses weren’t wanted. Besides, he liked the night. Night was cooler, quieter, more intimate. It also didn’t make his face a livid lobster red (like it currently was). A break from UV bombardment would be nice too.

He’d stolen a new set of clothes (before his current outfit disintegrated entirely). They were a pair of new black jeans, and a white cotton tunic shirt. It was a cheesy souvenir “dress like a native” shirt, but Thoki felt comfortable with it. The style and the length felt like home, even if it smelled of baked air and SPF 50 (another “investment” of his). A leather belt in the middle and a new pair of shoes and he suddenly felt like a million dollars. All that was left as the sun sank was to keep the butterflies in his stomach down.

He started humming under his breath to keep his nerves under control. Most people would hum a classic tune like “Ride of the Valkyries.” Thoki didn’t see the point of that one. For one thing, Valkyries had simpler tastes in music, Wagner being seen by them as a blow-hard. Thoki’s mother, Sigunn had been a close friend of the Valkyrie Olrun and he knew for a FACT that the large woman’s favorite song was “Hey Mickey” by Toni Basil.

That was something that worried Thoki. The Valkyries were singing “Hey, Mickey you’re so fine. You’re so fine you blow my mind,” thousands of years before Toni Basil was even a zygote. The gods were playing baseball before America was colonized by white man. How was it that time seemed to bubble like that in the immortal plane? It was as if the gods existed for eons, while at the same time existing in the present and centuries into the future at the same time. Odin had only looked about fifty years old, while at the same time, he had been fifty for eternity, BUT (and this was the part that made his head ache) at the same time he’d lived for centuries for only fifty years.

Thoki shook his head to relieve the buzzing sensation of time-space theory trying to wrap itself around his brain.

Eventually he decided to hum something more his style under his breath:

“No more, Mr. Nice Guy… No more Mr. Cleeeeeean…”

“We ready now, Thoki?” asked Lor.

Thoki checked the window of the abandoned flat they were squatting in, the sun was now a thin line of pink icing on the cityscape and the white moon graced the sky like a careless watermark.

“Yeah, let’s go,” sighed Thoki, his bravado deflating.

***

He didn’t know why he thought the Obelisk would be unguarded. It wasn’t a real thought with any sense behind it. It would have been down-right stupid to expect it, but never-the-less upon seeing the two figures on the steps to the landmark, Thoki moaned.

“Crap.”

“I’ll take care of it,” said Lor comfortingly. Without another word, he wrapped a meaty hand around Thoki’s torso and lifted the little man bodily off of the ground. Thoki winced at the tight grip but let Lor place him carefully on the giant’s meaty shoulders. He shifted his legs so that they dangled on each side Lor’s neck and got a grip on the ginger curls that rose chest high on him.

“All buckled up?” asked Lor.

“Yep,” answered Thoki in a thin voice.

The walked past the ornamental trees to the large pavement square, where the Obelisk loomed darkly in the night sky. Two figures stood in the moonlight. Hermes and Goodfellow were sitting on the dais steps as calmly as if they were waiting for a ride. It appeared there was no one else waiting with them.

This made Thoki insanely worried.

Lor had wiped the floor with those two tricksters without even breaking a sweat. Did Hermes and Goodfellow honestly think they could best the giant after that first encounter … or did they have something up their sleeves?

Thoki’s palm connected with his forehead. “Of course they’ve got something up their sleeves. They’re tricksters. It’s like asking if a novelist has a liquor cabinet,” he muttered.

Lor lumbered close enough to see the starshine in the tricksters’ eyes and Thoki decided to break the silence.

“Ill met by moonlight, jackasses,” he pronounced.

Robin Goodfellow shot him a dirty look.

“Thoki we need you to drop this stupid obsession of yours,” said Hermes.

“Nothing doing!” spat Thoki.

“I thought as much,” sighed Hermes. Thoki noticed the Greek’s hands were resolutely behind his back. Did he have a gun? “You give us no choice then,” sighed Hermes.

“Ah, hell. Lor, crush his head,” said Thoki.

“Okay,” said Lor reaching forward.

That was when Hermes’ hand whipped out from behind his back. Thoki flinched and even Lor stopped in his tracks. Both awaited the blinding pain of bullets ripping through their skin… but it never came. Looking up, Thoki saw that instead of something shiny, metal and lethal, Hermes instead was holding something very different.

For one thing, it was fuzzy. Squinting in the dim light, Thoki made out something pale and fluffy and with two winking glass eyes.

“Is that a toy pig?” asked Thoki, nonplussed.

“Yes,” said Hermes in a musical voice, directed at Lor. “Do you like the pig?”

“Yes,” said Lor.

Thoki craned his neck to the side to catch Lor’s reaction. To his horror, the giant’s currant eyes were wide and shining. They were fixed squarely on the pig in an expression of rapt enchantment.

“Oh crap,” choked Thoki.

“What do you think his name is?” Hermes asked Lor in the same jolly musical voice of a Kindergarten teacher.

“Mr. Babbington?” asked Lor.

There was only a slight pause as Hermes’ brain restarted. He’d obviously been anticipating an answer like Hammy or Sir Oinks-a-lot. “Yes, that’s right!” he answered. Hermes squeezed the pig’s tummy and it emitted a few darling squeaks.

“What’s that Mr. Babbington?” he asked the toy in dead earnest. He pretended to listen as more squeaks echoed off the concrete and were swallowed by the night.

“What’s he saying?” asked Lor in awe.

“He says he likes you, Lor! He says he wants to go home with you!”

Lor let loose a whimper of impatience. “Can I hold him?” asked Lor with longing, his sausage fingers inching shyly towards the pig.

Hermes deftly stepped out of his reach. “Mr. Babbington would like that very much, but he needs you to do something first.”

“What’s that?” asked Lor hungrily. Thoki’s stomach turned to ice.

“He needs you to put your friend, Thoki down,” said Hermes.

Ep. 13 Gods in the Marketplace

2011-05-02T23:33:00.000-04:00

Feeling much better, Thoki began to walk towards the obelisk. As his stride drew him closer and closer to his target, his pace quickened. He debated briefly whether he should go back and wait outside the toilets for Lor, but his impatience gnawed at him. Lor was always so slow. Anyways, it’s not like the big ox would be able to decipher the worn glyphs on the obelisk anyway. He had trouble with “Harold and the Purple Crayon,” for crap’s sake. Then again — and this made Thoki pause midstride — Lor did have those rare moments of perspicacity at the oddest of moments.

Thoki shrugged and kept walking. It was only a short jog to the obelisk; Lor would catch up. And this way Thoki could spend his time reading the obelisk instead of reading the graffiti on the bathroom walls.

As the red sandstone column loomed ahead, Thoki’s heart beat faster and faster. He could hear his own pulse whooshing in his ears and making his head throb as his fingers twitched and his body perspired. The anticipation and emotional tide was similar to his recent encounter with Eris and the memory brought a grim smirk to his face, but he pressed on, his feet pounding the sidewalk with more vigor.

He was running at a full tilt now, knocking aside civilians, tourists and vendors as he jogged towards his goal. Against the blue sky, the pink rock looked like a red tower of blood, and his pace slowed as he drew within arm’s length. There he was forced to pause.

The monument’s primordial decoration was protected from the slack-jawed looky-lous by barriers and a park ranger. An actual park-freaking-ranger, like people came around every day to touch the stone that was older than the first Pharaoh.

The nerve of some people, thought Thoki as he stood weighing his options as to how best to get closer. He rubbed his bare chin until it irritated his sunburn and he winced at the fiery, prickly sensation.

“You could use some aloe on that,” came a voice over his shoulder.

Thoki, lost in thought, turned absently to see who it was. It was a familiar ham-faced man with a shaved head. Robin Goodfellow was standing behind him in jeans and a Pink Floyd “The Wall” shirt with the arms torn off. He gave Thoki a broad grin, showing off his chipped tooth and in a congenial voice said:

“Alloh, sunshine.”

The blood drained from Thoki’s blistered face as he backed away into a pair of cologne-scented but very strong arms. Hermes had crept up from behind and he grabbed Thoki in a headlock. Thoki only got a brief glimpse of the Greek, but the messenger god’s sculpted nose was looking a little bent and his lip was swollen. Instead of Hermes’s shiny silks he had traded down to a polo shirt and white pants. There was dirty work to do, obviously, and Versache had no place here.

“HELP!” cried Thoki — or he tried to anyway, but nothing was coming out. He was too scared to shout — the two tricksters had him by the short hairs. Instead his mouth flapped open and closed a few times like a mute ventriloquist’s dummy.

“You left our little party before we finished it,” said Hermes’s velvet voice in his ear. “That wasn’t very nice, considering that you were the guest of honor.”

“-----!” said Thoki, still gasping for words.

“Sorry, Thoki,” said Goodfellow in his less-than-melodious East-Ender tones. “But we can’t let you do this, see?”

“You might seek the destruction of the world, but some of us are living quite happily in it,” said Hermes.

“ So’s we figure that if’n we lock you up, you can’t find the Chaos, right? Problem solved. Happy ending,” said Goodfellow. He gave Thoki a sympathetic grin.

“How’s it a happy ending if I’m locked up?” Thoki finally managed.

Puck’s grin faded a little into a pitying expression. “Werlll, I din’ say it’d be happy for everyone did I?”

And with that, Hermes began to frog-march Thoki out of the park and into the high-street.

Thoki tried to look around, as much as the half-nelson he was in would let him. No one seemed to notice the young Nordic man being carried off by two thugs. In fact, it seemed that no one saw them at all.

“Hello! Guy being kidnapped!” shouted Thoki. Hermes kneed him in the kidneys for that attempt. One or two civillians blinked and looked confused, but otherwise let them pass unnoticed.

“What’s going on? Why don’t they see us?” asked Thoki.

There was a pause as Goodfellow glanced at Hermes in uncertainty before looking back at Thoki.

“They don’t see us because they don’t want to,” said Goodfellow.

“To them we don’t exist,” said Hermes bitterly. “Hermes is the name of a scarf company or that little man on the FTD florist’s logo. Puck is a beloved character in a Shakespeare play or a small black coin flicked around a hockey arena.”

“I don’t think that last example is right,” said Goodfellow weakly but Hermes paid him no notice.

“To them the gods are dead, even as their memory floats around this city like clouds of incense. Look at that souvenir table,” spat Hermes as they passed a merchant’s table full of Cairo-themed memorabilia.

“You have Anubis T-shirts, and wallets, and coffee mugs, but who among these God-fearing Muslims, Jews and Christians would ever think that a Jackal-headed God walks among them.

“Does he?” asked Thoki in awe.

“Don’t be stupid,” hissed Hermes in irritation. Thoki breathed a little.

“Anubis hates crowds,” said Goodfellow, jumping in. “He waits until nightfall.”

“The POINT is…” snapped Hermes in irritation, “… that even if he was walking down this very street with a tennis ball in his mouth, none of these people would see him. To them, he is a dead god of an ancient race.”

“But why don’t they see me? I’m not a god,” asked Thoki quietly.

“Because you’re appallingly average and forgettable,” said Hermes coldly.

“Oh,” said Thoki feeling ill.

Hermes then felt a tap on his shoulder. Keeping a firm grip on Thoki’s neck, Hermes turned his sculpted head. The god’s face was promptly enveloped in a bushy ginger beard.

Thoki caught sight of Goodfellow going pale before he felt the grip on his neck lessen. Looking around, he saw Lor standing idly and dangling a struggling Hermes by his neck.

“I should very much like my friend back,” said Lor to Goodfellow. His voice was mild enough, but there was a fire in his piggy eyes that made even Thoki nervous.

“Oh bugger,” gasped Goodfellow before a fist the size of a butt roast came roaring at him with the force of a freight train. The blow hit him squarely on the jaw and sent Goodfellow flying into the table of “Elizabeth Taylor as Cleopatra”-themed merchandise. He tried righting himself, only to have Hermes’s body land on top of him, collapsing the flimsy card table.

If there was any question of whether people could see them now, it was rescinded. What the stand owner saw was a punk kid with a lot of tattoos and his rich boyfriend sitting on his ruined stock.

“I guess people can see gods, when they make themselves known,” laughed Thoki as the vendor cursed at the groaning tricksters. “Those stupid blowhards. People don’t see kidnappers and beatings because people are assholes. It’s not because of godly powers,” he scoffed.

“I think there was another god of legend who made a lot of fuss in a marketplace once. Turned a lot of tables over and shouted.”

“Yeah, that was you… just now” said Thoki, who wasn’t a biblical scholar.

“Oh yeah,” said Lor, who had forgotten what they were talking about. In those situations it was always best to agree with Thoki. Thoki knew what was going on.

“C’mon,” said Thoki in agitation. “Before they get to their feet, we need to hide and figure out a plan to get at that Obelisk.” He pulled Lor through the crowd until they melted into it again.

The sky was turning a charcoal grey, and the oven-like air was now a cold biting wind that smelled of tin, and, to the well-trained nose… like impending snowfall.

Ep. 12 Ancient History

2011-04-26T00:16:00.001-04:00

Preface: Thoki has tricked his brother, Jormungandr the world Serpent into taking him and Lor to Egypt. They are now searching Heliopolis (Now part of Cairo) for evidence of ISFAT, the ancient chaos that existed before order. Thoki hopes to use this chaos to rule the world.

Lor is a Frost Giant. He wants to know if Paddington Bear is related to Rupert Bear.

When the menfolk came to Loki’s house, they were ready. Frey and Tyr were first in the door as Sigun quietly let them in. Thoki and his brothers jumped to their feet, each one stepping protectively in front of Hel. There was hushed conversation at the entry between Sigunn and the men, while the boys shook and sweat in anxiety. Fenrir was stronger than a fully grown Aesir, but he couldn’t best an entire hoarde of them. He was only sixteen at that, and while full of adolescent fire, he hadn’t quite quelled his fear of his elders. Jormungandr looked even less certain and his slight frame shivered at the sight of the warriors in full battle-garb. Hel remained seated, her expression resigned. What was to happen would happen. Despite her composure, however, her eyes looked large and scared, and Thoki grasped her hand and squeezed it.

Loki sat in his chair by the fire, smoking his pipe as calmly as if nothing was wrong. Only the slightest twitch of a smile in the corner of his mouth betrayed him. The fire-god’s eyes burned brightly in the dim room and he regarded his brood thoughtfully.

“Loki,” said Frey from the doorway.

“You forgot to say ‘bless all here,’ when you entered, Frey,” said Loki airily. “I’m shocked.”

“You know why we’re here,” said Frey.

“I know. I also know that you had to wait until Thor was away to do it. Didn’t want the lummox to queer the deal, huh?”

Frey didn’t answer. “Your spawn are to come with us.”

Loki caught Fenrir’s worried expression and gave him the slightest smile. Fenrir was his father’s golden boy (or golden retriever anyway).

“If it is Odin’s will, I have no choice,” said Loki, rising. He sighed theatrically, “… but you have to fetch them yourselves. I’m not the sort of father to just give his children away.”

Frey nodded. “I would have thought less of you if you were.”

Loki’s charming smile flickered and his voice became harsh. “Your opinion of me can’t get any lower, Frey. Let’s skip the pretense …from one outsider to another.”

Frey nodded. “As you wish.”

“Yeah, whatever,” grumbled Loki before turning to his sons. “Boys, we have some guests who have waived the rights of hospitality. Go greet them, won’t you?”

“You Jotun are coming with us,” snarled Heimdall.

“Fat chance!” cried Thoki, raising his fists in (what he hoped) was a threatening stance.

Unexpectedly, the room went silent as everyone — Aesir, Vanyr and Jotun alike stared at Thoki.

“Whattaya think you’re doin?” demanded Fenrir.

“I’m… not going with them either,” said Thoki uncertainly. “I’ll stand and fight with you rather than go quietly.”

“Go away, wiener,” hissed Jormungandr. “You’ll only get in the way.”

“Yeah, beat it, ass!” snarled Fenrir. “We’re busy protecting our sister.” The emphasis on “our” made Thoki shrink. He risked a glance back at Hel who shook her head sadly.

“What you just want me to give up?” Thoki asked.

“Boy,” came a kind voice over his shoulder. Thoki spun around to find himself staring up at the dashing Frey. The Vanyr was sporting a bemused expression. “Go back to your mother, young man. We do not want you.”

“You heard them,” said Loki, and Thoki turned to look at his father. “No one wants you. Go back to your whimpering dishrag of a mother and try on her apron. These men are after my sons and daughter, not a pale little mistake like you.”

“But…” said Thoki, his fists finally falling at his side as hot tears ran down his face.

“Go,” said Hel quietly.

Thoki ran.

******************

The city of Heliopolis is one of the oldest cities in recorded history. It pre-dated the Pharoahs, and probably pre-dated pre-dating, for that matter. It was built upon, time and time again as it became part of the Old Kingdom, and then the New Kingdom of Egypt. It had sheltered Joseph, Moses, and (according to legend) the infant Jesus Christ and his Virgin Mother. The Egyptians, Jews and Greeks had given in many names that all meant “City of the Sun,” but its newest name, Al-Matariyyah “The Mother”, reflected this last legend.

“It all comes back to the stinkin’ Bible,” snorted Thoki as he rubbed his sunburned nose in annoyance.

Thoki and Lor. were wending their way through the dense shopping district in what was now just another district of Cairo. Here vendors tried to sell him freshly-cooked lamb, knock-off Prada bags and Bootleg DVDs of the newest Harry Potter movie.

Like Lor, Thoki’s passing from immortality to death to the mortal plane had unlocked a few secrets of The Universe, and one was the understanding that all languages were basically the same (on a primordial level.) This gave him the ability to say “No thanks,” to all the vendors and brush them aside, with an occasional, “For the LAST TIME, NO! GET BENT!”

“What’re we looking for?” asked Lor.

“We’ll know it when we see it,” said Thoki. He didn’t want to admit that he had no idea what they were looking for. Everything had changed so much since his last visit to Cairo which had been pitifully limited.

He’d once taken a school trip to Egypt in his childhood with the other young Aesir. They were in Cairo for all of 4 hours and one of those hours he had spent LOST, having wandered off from the tour.

Of course, it was all different now, even if he could remember what it had been like. For one thing there was glass in the windows instead of people. Cars crawled at a sluggish pace through the congested streets instead of chariots. There were tall minarets where once there had been animal headed statuary. There were ATMs where there once were flatulent cattle staring madly at you. Such drastic change was unnerving. It was a bit like when he visited Scandinavia again for the first time in over a millennium and discovered that it was now 3 countries.

“Is that what we’re looking for?” asked Lor.

“No, Lor. That’s a kebab stand,” said Thoki.

“Is that it?” asked Lor.

“No, that’s a parking metre.”

“That it?”

“That’s a crate of oranges.”

“That?”

“Lamp post.”

“This is hard,” said Lor with a grimace.

“Yeah-huh,” said Thoki absently while trying to shade his face with his forearm.

He looked a wreck these days. His hoodie was torn and stained, what was left of his tee-shirt was a mess of punctured cotton that was too thin for dust rags. His jeans were now so dirty and coated with grime that they wouldn’t absorb water — it just beaded and rolled off. The cuffs had worn off a few hundred miles ago and long strings of frayed denim trailed over his cheap canvas trainers that were practically sandals they had so many holes. Lor looked like he always did: politely confused. Still even his meticulous plodding couldn’t save his larger supply of clothes from wrinkles and moth-holes. In his dockers and extra-wide-neck polo, he looked like a telemarketer on holiday. The sun also didn’t seem to bother Lor. While Thoki’s pale Nordic skin (currently a bright crimson) was suffering under the intense North African sun, Lor didn’t seemed too bothered. He looked like a boiled ham on a bed of orange hair, but was none the worse for it. Thoki grumbled curses under his breath.

“Is that it?” asked Lor for the thrity-sixth time.

“That’s a public toilet.”

“That it?”

“That’s a…” Thoki trailed off as he took in what Lor was looking at. “…An obelisk,” he said finally.

His pale eyes lit up. They looked almost clear in his sunburned face as he brushed his white-blond hair out of the way. A phallic monument of red granite was towering over an expanse of manicured grass and trees. Running towards it as fast as they could, Thoki and Lor pushed through the crowds and dodged cars as they made their way to the Obelisk.

“This is it! I remember this being here last time I came! Braggi told me it was older than the Pharoahs, perhaps older than Egypt. If the goddess Maat confined Chaos to an earthly prison, this might give us a clue!”

“So it’s older than that beef we had at that café?”

“Possibly,” said Thoki grimacing as his stomach made distressing noises. “…Actually, could you point out that public toilet again? “

Ep: 11 Road Trip

2011-04-19T00:00:00.001-04:00

Recap: Thoki has tricked his half-brother Jormungandr into downing a drinking gin until he passed out. Thoki wants Jormungandr to give him an Lor passage to Egypt to look for the "City of the Sun": supposedly the location of ISFAT, the course of all chaos. Thoki intends to use this chaos to rule the world. Lor intends to find out whether "The Swedish Chef" is real.

“Head more to the south, you’re veering too far east,” said Thoki.

“Freaking hate you, wiener,” grumbled Jormungandr.

Thoki and Lor were seated along a long coil of Jormungandr’s snake form, just behind the head. Jorm was swimming in geriatric undulations and groaning every few yards. His serpent head, fearsome beyond all human imagining, had lost some of its hellfire. Dark circles surrounded the yellow eyes (which were now bloodshot and rather glassy) and his deadly breath, said to poison all who smelled it was even fouler than usual. Jormungandr was currently suffering from a Devine headache, of the sort that was usually caused by a cranial goddess crafting armor. The larger part of a bottle of Tanqueray and a thrashing about the head were to thank for that and Jorm had awoken from his gin-induced slumber to find himself captive in bonds made of heaviest-grade tow-cable.

That was when Thoki insisted that they be given transport to Alexandria… or else.

“I’d be tempted to drown you like a navy SEAL, you little bastard, if I wasn’t afraid of my head coming off,” Jormungandr mumbled through his metal bridle.

“Sorry I had to tie you up,” said Lor amiably.

“Nah, you’re alright, Lor. We should hang out sometime. In fact, we could hang out now, if you help me get rid of my stupid half-brother. Deal?” said the Serpent.

Lor debated this for a moment. “Could we come back for Thoki later?” asked Lor.

“Sure!” chuckled Jorm (and then winced through his hangover). “He might even still be alive if he’s a good swimmer.”

“No. I think we have some things to do first, Thoki and me.” Lor shook his head, which made Thoki sigh in relief. “Maybe afterwards.”

There was a pause before the World Serpent grasped at the last straw of hope. “Sure. If you guys can make it so that Fenrir doesn’t kill me, drinks are on me.”

“Don’t worry, Jorm,” said Thoki lightly. “I’ll tell Fenrir you were coerced.”

Jorm rolled his jaundiced eyes. “He’ll never believe me — I mean NEVER, EVER in a million years believe that you beat me up.”

“Thanks,” sniffed Thoki. “So what did Fenrir mean, the city of the sun?”

Jorm was carefully quiet and Thoki realized he was on his own this time. “City of the Sun… The Egyptian God of the sun was Ra, right?” Thoki was being rhetorical, but to his surprise, Lor spoke up.

“Well there was Atum, Atum-Ra, Aten-Ra, Horus, The Mnevis Bull, and Khepri the dung beetle… to name a few,” said the Jotun

For a while there was no sound save the lapping of waves against the huge scaly flanks and Jormungandr’s mouth breathing through his bridle.

“Alrighty,” said Thoki eventually. “So we have a lot of options. Any one of the cities of Ancient Egypt dedicated to those guys could be our target.”

“Oh, simple as that then,” said Lor nodding.

“No, it’s not simple,” said Thoki in mounting frustration. “We’re talking several thousand years of clashing pantheons changing and growing overtime, each dynasty issuing its own rules and names. God knows what those cities are called now that the old gods are crushed under this new Mohammedan- religion-thing.”

“’S’not new. The Islamic faith was developed almost fourteen-hundred years ago, ass,” muttered Jorm through the thick cables.

“That’s new to me,” said Thoki with a shrug.

“So, city of Ra… city of Aten-Ra. Maybe even Akenatum… crap. I don’t know any cities like that. I always assumed it would be at one of the big places… like Memphis, or Luxor or Cairo,” said Thoki. He kneeded his forehead with his fist in frustration as he stared at the black, churning water. The wind was picking up, and Thoki put up his sweatshirt hood and shivered. “Jorm, do you know any Egyptian city that would have been the city of the sun?”

Jorm laughed so hard he nearly choked on the cables binding him. “I got no idea, pipsqueak. I’m a giant snake as long as the Australian coastline. I don’t really sit around all day studying Greek History.”

“What DO you do all day?” asked Thoki in annoyance.

“Watch TV. I got Netflix live-streaming on my PS3 and I have most of the cable channels. I also play Frontierville a lot. Are you on Facebook, Lor? I need some more gas lamps to build my Ponderosa Lodge.”

Lor shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t understand the Internet. I go “on the line” and it says I have mail, but when I check our P.O. box at the post office it’s always empty.”

“Nah, nah, dude! You’re supposed to click on the little picture of a letter,” said Jormungandr.

“I did that once, but all I got were some pictures… very confusing pictures,” said Lor with a dazed look.

“Really,” said Jorm in the voice of one hoping for elaboration. Lor wasn’t forthcoming, however.

“I don’t’ know… it’s all Greek to me,” sighed Lor.

“Greek,” said Thoki sitting up suddenly. “Just a moment ago, Jorm. You said you didn’t sit around watching Greek history, when I was clearly talking about Egypt!”

“Um… No I didn’t?” said Jormungandr without much hope.

“You totally did! You know where we’re supposed to be going, don’t you!”

“Um… Uh…. No I don’t?” moaned Jorm. If snakes could sweat, Jormungandr would have looked like “sketchy witness number two” from an episode of Law and Order.

“Egypt was taken over by Alexander the Great starting the Ptolemic Empire! It makes sense! So… Greek god of the sun… Apollo… no. ‘Apollopolis’ just sounds too dumb for me to forget it… no…”

“Helios?” suggested Lor.

Thoki snapped his fingers. “Heliopolis.”

“Oh, God, I’m dead,” moaned Jormungandr. His body began to tremble and his scales seemed duller and colder.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” demanded Thoki.

“I can’t tell you,” said Jorm.

“AREN’T I?” insisted Thoki.

Jormungandr gave a sad little nod.

“Yes!” said Thoki, giving his brother’s bridle a vindictive little jerk. “Who’s the wiener now, ‘foot-long’?”

The serpent said nothing, but his lethargic pace slowed to nearly glacial speed as he edged closer to certain peril.

Excerpt (warning: Rated R for Sexual Situations)

2011-04-18T09:33:00.004-04:00

I purposefully decided not to write out the details of Thoki and Eris's reunion. Recent conversation with @WerewolfMike, @Nemone7 and @notmoro however encouraged me to write and post it as an excerpt for those who were curious. The events go back to when Thoki was running with Eris down the streets of Bastia from the other Tricksters.

They ran until they felt certain that the patter of pursuing footsteps had disappeared entirely. It seemed that Eris had done the job. The Tricksters were all too busy fighting amongst themselves to give more than a half-hearted chase.

“So… what now?” asked Thoki, out of breath.

Without answering, Eris threw him backwards against the brick wall of a menswear boutique.

“OW! HEY!” groaned Thoki! “What was that for? What’re..?”

Thoki was halted in his protests by Eris jumping on his hips and attacking his mouth in a frantic kiss.

“Oh,” he said, realization dawning.

Her teeth bit into his lips, making him wince, but the moment her searching tongue ran along his jawline, he instantly reacted. He bound his slight arms around her, twisting her leather jacket in his hands as he returned fire with a passionate kiss of his own. Their ragged breaths mingled as she clung tightly to him, her thighs hugging his waist as she slid up and down. Thoki’s heart was pounding now as he feverishly moved in rhythm to collide with her. He felt her breasts mash against his chest with each push. His hand found its way to her bare thigh and followed it under her skirt. Eris unzipped his sweatshirt, and tore the hem of his cheap shirt to shreds. She reached under it, her soft fingers gliding over his smooth bare chest before teasing his nipples into hard points. His breath came in faster grunting gasps as she excited and baited him. He wanted to get into her so badly it hurt him and he shook and sweat in his growing hunger.

It was when she climbed off and started unbuttoning his jeans that his brain slammed on the breaks.

“Whoa-whoa-WHOA! Hang on,” he said suddenly. “We’re doing this here? In the streets?”

“It’s raining, nobody’s out here,” she said breathlessly.

“But people are watching us through the windows,” said Thoki, uncertainly, trying to shoo her hands away from his fly. “There’s a guy over there at the tie store who keeps staring at us.”

“Let him. He should get an eyeful in a minute,” said Eris with a sly grin.

Thoki didn’t feel like returning it. “Besides, this wall is filthy and the bricks are rough… and it’s kind of painful. Can’t we get a room in some hote—” He didn’t get a chance to finish as Eris managed finally to undo his pants and slide them down just enough. With far too much ease, she remounted and made Thoki very aware that she wasn’t wearing a thing under her tight leather mini.

“Uh! Maybe we should…” he managed in a strange high voice before all synopses in his brain ceased firing and made him incapable of speech. He was only aware of sensations now. He smelled the perfume in her hair and the leather of her jacket. He heard her gasp and moan as she deftly led his hand under her thin tee-shirt to her breast. He could taste the salty sweat of her neck and the rain rolling off it along with the blood on his lips from her aggressive foreplay. Her voice cried out louder and louder, each time with more urgency. His voice joined hers in the unnaturally high shrieks of a man trying to keep his focus as well as his balance. The cold rain made him shiver and her burning warmth made him shudder as he fought to hold on. If people were still staring at them, he was aware of none of them. There was only this.

Eris took this opportunity to tease him, pulling away when he lunged forward and then waiting for his pants of frustration before finally gratifying him, only to pull away again. He was scarcely aware of what words were tumbling out of his mouth, it was a nonsensical babble of entreaties, exclamations, and curses as he ran the gamut of every emotion known to man in 3 seconds, and then ran them again, over and over. Twice he almost lost his footing as she drove him crazy with pain and ecstasy.

After a long loud squeal from Eris, Thoki felt safe enough in sprinting for the finish line. Spinning around, until Eris’s back faced the wall, he summoned the untapped reserve of animal energy that was driving him. His muscles burned with the pace and his thighs ached from supporting her weight. His head received a few knocks from the wall as well, but then…oblivion. He saw purple stars explode as his back suddenly arched and he loosed a feral scream into the air just as a thunderbolt shook the sleepy island and made the air smell of burning tin.

There was no post-coital cigarette. There was no obligatory 10 minute cuddle and “what are you thinking about” conversation. There wasn’t a hot shower — Hell, there wasn’t even anything even to lie down on. There was only the same unforgiving wall, which he leaned against with all his weight, while Eris hung on for a few victory laps. It was when they heard the police sirens, that Eris, with as much poise as a queen, collected herself and grabbed Thoki by the hand, pulling him into a run towards a black Mercedes parked along the street.

He stumbled raggedly behind her while doing up his jeans, wishing he could go back in time to six minutes ago. If he’d gone back ten minutes ago, he could tell himself to get a hotel room. There was generally no running with hotel rooms… that is until they discovered your credit card was a stolen one.

He climbed into the passenger seat in a daze. A realization dawned that it had been fantastic. In his severely limited experience, it had blown every other time away without question (barring one). But amidst the glow of having tasted that black starry oblivion and coming back, was the pain of loss. It was over. Knowing Eris, she would disappear soon, and he would only have the memory of that one frantic screw to visit in his mind on lonely nights. The bitterness made him tear up, and he testily hid his eyes under his hood while he fought against crying. But despite all of that, the loss, the fatigue and the utter confusion, there was a smile on Thoki’s face and it didn’t feel like leaving.

You can find other naughty excerpts at @Nemone7's Blog and at @WerewolfMike's Blog.

Episode 10: Take a Shot

2011-04-11T23:58:00.001-04:00

RECAP: Thoki has just beaten up his brother, the World Serpent Jormungandr. He’s hoping he can convince his brother to transport him and Lor to Egypt to look for the source of all chaos, ISFAT. Lor is trying to remember something important, but can’t remember what it is or who told it to him, or whether or not it was related to Cookie Monster.

Thoki was thirteen when his brothers and sister were banished from Asgard. He’d overheard the whole thing one evening when he was at Freyja’s house. He was beginning to recognize what those funny fluttery sensations were when he was near Freyja’s daughter, Hnoss. One evening he’d snuck into her room to make boyish professions of love. He’d been making good progress when they’d heard voices by the hearth. Hnoss and he had paused in their clumsy petting and crept to the door to hear the conversation.

Freyja’s brother Frey had come visiting.

“We leave tonight. I’ve come to tell you to bar your door.”

“So soon?” asked Freyja

“We can’t leave it any longer. They begin to grow in power and mischief as we knew they would,” said the handsome Frey. Like his sister, he was paler and more slight than the Aesir, but there was a power to him that made Tyr and Heimdall hang back. “And please mention this to no one until we have succeeded.”

“Why not?” asked Freyja. “Surely you sought the All-Father’s approval!”

The three men looked uncomfortable and exchanged nervous glances.

“Odin has agreed to it… but if Thor should overhear… you know that he thinks Loki his dearest friend in the world,” said Tyr, rolling his eyes. “He would never knowingly turn a hand against Loki.”

“But this is NOT against Loki, only his brood, which are Jotun… and you know how Thor is incensed by Jotun,” said Freyja.

“We’re not taking any chances,” said Frey.

“Do you agree with this plan then?” asked Heimdall.

“I have had enough run-ins with Jotun… and with Loki… to know that his children cannot be trusted,” said Freyja nodding. “The sooner they are disposed of the better.”

Thoki listened as his stomach turned to ice. Disposed of? He had no doubt that, despite the fact that he and his siblings didn’t share the same mother, Freyja had meant to include him too. Hnoss’s grip on his arm convinced him further. What should he do? Should he run? Should he warn Jormungandr and Fenrir, and hide behind them? What was to become of them?

“Odin said that we must not harm them; His blood flows in their veins no matter how diluted. But he has consented let us imprison them,” said Tyr.

“You are sure of yourselves, but I’m worried about the ease with which you’ll conquer the eldest, Fenrir,” sighed Freyja.

“We’ll manage it. I’d bet my right hand on it,” said Tyr with a grin, waggling his fingers.

****

“You know, wiener, (hic) I’ve …never hadanyfriends,” slurred Jormungandr swaying where he sat. He was sporting several cuts and large bruises, the crowning glory of which was a large swollen black eye. Thoki was wearing similar badges of honor, primarily a split lip and some very bloody knuckles. He, Jorm and Lor were seated around a cheerful fire, toasting fish on sticks. The bottle of Tanqueray was now changing hands as each took long pulls of the fragrant gin. Lor was either being very quiet, or was asleep with his eyes open again.

“You were ev’body’s favorite, lil’ Thoki,” moaned Jormungander, taking another drink and swallowing the piece of fish that was trying to escape. “E’body’s always like, ‘Ahh reverse course! It’s a gian’ sea-monster! We’re all gonna die!’ Nob’dy dossat with you, righ?”

“Nah. They jus’ ignore me all the time,” said Thoki sadly, blinking back tears. “ Or worse, they pity me. Poor lil’ short Thoki who’s a sissy an a failure. Nob’dy likes me—likes me—likes me neither.”

Jormungandr sniffed and wrapped a muscly arm around Thoki’s unresisting shoulders, briefly laying his head on him in a show of affection. He and Thoki were silent and still for a moment before the serpent-man handed his brother the green bottle. Thoki raised the bottle to his lips with some effort as there was still over 1.75 litres in it. He pretended to drink, stopping the liquid with this tongue over the bottle’s rim. He then passed it back to Jorm who took three large swallows of the stuff before belching loudly. He then began to sing,

“Memories… all alone in the moonlight…”

“So there’s not anny-anny chance that’choo can take us to Egypt?” asked Thoki interrupting Jorm before he really got started.

At this, Jorm burst into tears. “I caaaan’t!!! Not even after that …rreally grreat fight we had!” Big fat drops were cascading down Jorm’s angular features and splashing wetly onto his t-shirt. “He would totally kill me!”

“Who’d kill ya?” asked Thoki, trying to maintain his drunk-act.

“I can’ tell you, ‘cause he’d killme,” said Jorm shaking his head. He then realized this was a bad idea and had to hold it in both hands to keep it from falling off.

“Who’d kill you for telling me who’d kill you?” asked Thoki. He was too anxious to slur his speech, but Jormungandr didn’t seem to catch on.

“Fenrir would,” said Jorm before clapping a hand over his mouth in horror. “Oh shit. Oh, God, don’t tell him it was me that told you!”

Thoki wasn’t listening. Instead he was feeling sick to his stomach and a prickly sweat was breaking out over his body making him feel feverish.

“You ‘kay, brah?” asked Jorm.

“I’m gonna barf,” whispered Thoki.

“Me too. I think we ate something funny,” moaned Jorm stifling another hiccup and wishing the world would stop spinning. “I’m gonna go to sleep now,” he said before flopping over backwards.

“I thought Fenrir was dead,” said Thoki.

“This mattress sucks,” mumbled Jorm from the smooth rock floor.

Thoki leaned over and shook his brother, who whimpered pathetically.

“Jorm, I thought Fenrir was dead,” said Thoki again, more urgently. “Vidar killed him. I saw it! He died in Ragnarok!”

“So did you,” said Jorm with a drunken laugh.

Thoki stopped breathing as the realization hit him. “He’s back?”

“Yeah, as it turns out, he’s related to the chick who gaurds the gates to the underworld,” said Jormungandr sarcastically before dissolving into giggles.

“Hel let him out too,” said Thoki.

“If it makes you feel any better,” said Jorm, “I don’t think she wanted to.”

“Does he know I’m here?” asked Thoki shaking his brother.

“Whuh?” asked Jorm muzzily.

“Does Fenrir know I’m on Earth and looking for Isfat?”

But there was no answer, only light snores rattling from Jorm’s serpentine sinus.

“Jorm! Wake up!” cried Thoki anxiously. “Jorm! Does Fenrir know!”

“He gave me a message,” came Lor’s voice form across the fire.

Thoki jumped to his feet and looked at the Jotun. “He knows then?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Lor nodded. “He said not to look for it. He said not to go to the city of the sun.”

“The city of the sun?” asked Thoki. He frowned. “He said that?”

Lor thought. “… Yes, but he also said not to tell you that it was he who told me.”

Thoki gave him a half smile, despite his jangling nerves. “God bless your oatmeal brains, Lor,” he said simply. “Now, we need to find a way to keep him here until he agrees to take us to Egypt,” he added, pointing to the supine Jorm.

“We still going then?” asked Lor.

“Are you kidding, Lor? If Fenrir is afraid of Isfat than it’s guaranteed to be something good.”

Episode 9: The Gentle Man

2011-04-04T16:42:00.002-04:00

Recap: Thoki and Lor are reunited at last! They are on the run from the Bastia Police for grand theft auto, destruction of property and assault with a deadly fist. Lor has also had a mysterious visit from Fenrir with a message for Thoki. Lor will probably remember the message eventually, once he gets his mind off weightier matters like: if chickens are birds, why can’t they fly?

When Loki bothered to come home, Thoki’s mother encouraged him to stay with one of the other Aesir. He usually stayed with Forseti those evenings. Forseti was a little older than Thoki, but he liked the kid and pitied his home life — and why wouldn’t he? Forseti came from the perfect family. His parents, Baldur and Nanna, were hopelessly devoted to each other, and they both doted on their obedient loving son. It was saccharine to the point of being sickening, and one would think that Thoki would be eaten alive with jealousy. On some nights he was sick with envy, especially when he was asleep on his pallet at nights and overheard his father stumbling in drunk and abusing his mother.

When he was in Baldur’s shining silver house, however, he felt temporary relief from the constant torrent of anger that consumed him all the time. Everyone here was so welcoming to him, so kind and gentle and understanding, especially Baldur. Thoki began to seek in Baldur the comfort and advice he never got from his dad. Most of all, Thoki liked Baldur because he wasn’t like the other men. Thor, Tyr, Heimdall and the others were always berating Thoki for his cowardice and bumbling skill in battle. Odin and the women all took pity on him and commiserated with his mother. When he cried about it to Baldur he expected another lecture on the honor of battle, but it never came. Instead, Baldur put a kindly arm around his shoulder and said.

“I understand. I’m not a fighter either, Thoki, and I have been mocked for it as well by the other Aesir.”

“But everyone loves you,” said Thoki in awe. And it was true. While Thor and Odin were legendary, even among the legends, Baldur was the most beloved god in all of Asgard.

“I have earned their love in other ways, Thoki,” said Baldur quietly. “Don’t struggle in vain to become something you are not. You will never be a great warrior, and… I think that you don’t want to be, either.”

“No. I hate fighting,” said Thoki.

“As do I. But you have other talents, Thoki. You are clever, as clever as your father, but you have your mother’s good heart. Use those gifts to their best advantage, Thoki. People will love you if you become the best man you can be.”

*************

Lor was running down the wet streets of Bastia. Fog was rolling off the streets, obscuring everything in a cloying damp wall of grey. Thoki was slung over his shoulder — this was for two reasons: firstly, Thoki couldn’t run nearly as fast nor as long as Lor could; second, because it gave Thoki a chance to think. The Police had temporarily stopped chasing them as Lor had succeeded in knocking out the gendarmes who had jumped them. It wouldn’t be long, however, until a full-scale man-hunt was underway and they would have more trouble getting out of that kind of net.

“Do you have any preference as to which direction I should be running in?” asked Lor.

“Don’t end sentences with prepositions, moron,” sighed Thoki wracking his brain. His thinking was somewhat muddled by the last few hours. What if the tricksters had been right? What if the chaos could potentially undo all life itself? Was he really willing to risk that? Then again, he was taking the word of a bunch of tricksters who were as “trustworthy” as a board of directors. And then there was that incident with Eris. He had no clue what she was after. Having rough sex in the back of a Mercedes Benz was high up on his list of WINs, but it had been too abrupt, too frenetic, too… well… confusing. He was pretty sure he had enjoyed it, but his brain wasn’t so sure. He had a horrible premonition that their little tumble would end up biting him in the ass later. Right now there was only one certainty running through his head: he had to get to Egypt. Everything would become clear if he made it to Egypt.

“Lor, try to head for the ocean!”

“Which way’s that, then?”

“We’re on an island. If you run in a straight line, we’ll come to it eventually,” said Thoki shrugging. Then an idea hatched in his head. “If you come to a liquor store, let’s do a quick smash and grab. Okay?”

“’Kay.”

In twenty minutes, they were at one of the shores along the French island. It was one of the less commercial beaches, covered in rubbish and steep inclines. There were some tide pools and rocky caves that were inaccessible, and with the evening tide rolling in, some would be cut off entirely from the mainland. Thoki couldn’t have planned it better.

“Good job, Lor!” he said with genuine feeling. The cold wind bit cruelly through his damp clothes, causing him to tremble uncontrollably, but his eyes were alight with hidden fire and his cheeks glowed pink with excitement. He found an abandoned inner tube and after he assured that it was watertight he jumped inside.

“Paddle us out to that outcrop, Lor — into that recess there.”

“You sure? The tide’s coming in?” asked Lor.

“I’m sure,” said Thoki in dead earnest.

Lor jumped into the cold choppy water and swam with all his might against the riptides. Seawater splashed into his eyes and mouth, yet he persevered with a single-mindedness that impressed Thoki. Soon they were in a relatively dry shelter of rock that was isolated by the tide, and hidden completely from the police in the fog.

Thoki pulled the 2 litre bottle of Tanqueray out from under his hoodie and using the ragged hem of his t-shirt, tied a makeshift tether to the bottle before letting it float in the water.

“JORM!!” shouted Thoki. “JORMUNGANDR!”

“What are you doing?” asked Lor quietly.

“I’m getting us a ride,” said Thoki. “This is the only way I can think of to get to Egypt with no money and the police after us.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to go to Egypt,” said Lor suddenly.

Thoki whipped around. “What do you mean?”

“I… I’m not sure…” said Lor, looking distressed. “I forget.” He tried hard to recollect his conversation with Fenrir, but was drawing a blank. “Never mind,” he said eventually, shaking his head.

Thoki shrugged. This sudden outburst from Lor was probably another one of the giant’s strange fancies.

“JORM!!” Thoki screamed again, as loud as he could.

He kept screaming long after the pearl grey sky had turned to a bruised red and the lights of police boats winked on the horizon. Thoki was disheveled and pale by now, with red-rimmed eyes and hollow cheeks. He was cold, he was starving (literally), he hadn’t slept in ages, but his eyes were still ablaze with a mad fervor as he called out to his half-brother.

“YES! Jeez! What is it?” came a voice from further inside the cave. Jormungandr was once again in his human form, looking like a green-haired hipster with serpentine eyes. He wore another black fitted t-shirt over his marble chest; it bore the puzzling legend “SWEEP THE LEG.” Thoki paused a half second to wonder where the HELL Jorm got all these shirts.

“Hey! You got me some good stuff this time!” said Jorm, brightening as he examined the bottle of gin. He then caught sight of Thoki’s expression and his grin fell.

“What’s goin’ on?” Jorm asked, stepping back a little.

“I need to get to Egypt, and you are going to take me. NOW,” said Thoki in a hoarse voice.

Jorm shook his head, “Nuh-uh! There’s no frakking way. I don’t do passengers!”

“Oh, you’re going to. One way or another,” croaked Thoki.

“How? Are you going to set your giant on me?” said Jorm, glancing at the Jotun with disinterest.

“No. I’ll fight you myself.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” said Jorm. He laughed, but it didn’t sound convincing. Something about Thoki was bothering Jorm. He’d never seen him this focused before. The little man seemed bigger, somehow. He was still a scant 4’11, and had the build of a prepubescent girl, but there was a power underneath his shivering wet frame. In his human form, Jormungandr was as strong as ten Lors but against all reason, he was nervous.

“You don’t fight,” Jorm said eventually, in the hope that Thoki would remember this too.

“If you want to test that theory, go right ahead,” said Thoki with a smile. Baldur’s words from over a millennium ago echoed in his head.

“You will never be a great warrior, and… I think that you don’t want to be, either”

You were wrong, Baldur, thought Thoki. I didn’t want to be a great warrior… because I had nothing to fight for… but now I do.

Thoki broke into a run and Jorm tensed, frozen to the rock floor. The snake-man only had enough presence of mind to put down his precious booze before preparing to defend himself. Which was why he was unprepared as Thoki leaped into the air and clocked him on the jaw.

Thoki and Jormungandr

Ep. 8 "With Friends Like You..."

2011-03-28T23:23:00.002-04:00

Note from Monica: We're BACK! Sorry for the massive plugging of old archives. I just wanted to start the Tuesday Serial T&L properly from episode 1. Thanks for bearing with me! Now I take up my pen — er — laptop again and continue with Episode 8. From here on in, it's news to me too!

Premise: Thoki and Lor have split up for the time being. While away, Thoki has discovered that the source of Ultimate Chaos (called Isfat) is in fact NOT the chaos of mere disorder but the primordial chaos that existed before life! In the wrong hands it could potentially destroy the world... that is IF the word of a hoard of trickster gods is worth trusting.

Lor is still at the youth hostel waiting for Thoki. By now he's forgotten how to tell time, how to tie his shoes and how to breathe regularly.

*****

Thoki had met Eris once before. It was at the inter-pantheon softball tournament a few centuries ago that was held in Folkvangr “The field of the Host”. The Greek, the Indian, the Norse and the Celtic teams were facing off that day. Thoki had been relegated to the water table with the goddesses, while the more “macho” Aesir were on the official team. He’d wound up chatting with Eris, who was banned from game for obvious reasons favoring “fair play.”

They’d hit it off, being of similar dispositions and hating friendly competition in general. There had been a long lull in the game which had been delayed while the teams argued over whose pantheon got The Fates. Thoki and Eris had used that distraction to escape under the bleachers for a few hours. It had all been going so well until Ganesh had stumbled upon them and pointed them out to everyone.

Everyone had laughed, none louder or more offensively than Loki. The only one who didn’t laugh had been Hnoss, daughter of Frejya, who’d burst into tears and run home.

*****

Thoki ran as Eris tugged on his hand. The freezing cold rain pelted him mercilessly as his cheap shoes slipped on the slick cobblestones. He tried to discern where they were going, but the only thing he could see was Eris running ahead of him, laughing wildly at the black clouds and rolling thunder. Occasionally she’d look back and smile at him before encouraging him to run faster.

“C’mon!” she’d cry.

Thoki could only nod breathlessly as they pounded up the hills and skidded down the other side. Finally, they stopped at a Black Mercedes luxury sedan. Thoki only had time to say, “WOW,” before Eris tugged the door open and pulled him inside after her.

Something was wrong.

“Wait! Why are we in the back seat?” Thoki asked.

Eris grabbed him by his hoodie and roughly shoved until his back met the leather seats, and water droplets began to pool under his head. She shook the rain from her hair before grasping his slight shoulders and straddling his hips.

“Ohhh,” said Thoki, realization dawning.

***

At the hostel, two German backpackers named Adam and Gunnar were discussing Lor.

“So what’s he doing here?” Adam asked Gunnar in German.

“I don’t know. He’s been sitting there for hours,” Gunnar. “I think he’s retarded or something.”

“Maybe he’s just nuts, yeah? Like axe-murderer nuts. Let’s stay somewhere else. He’s creeping me out.”

“There isn’t anywhere else. He’s not doing anything, so don’t be such a baby,” said Gunnar with more conviction than he felt.

“That’s just it! He’s not doing ANYthing! He hasn’t moved in twenty minutes! I don’t even think he’s blinked yet!”

As if in some response, Lor closed one eye, and then the other.

“Do you think he understood us?” asked Adam nervously.

The large red beard began to tremble on the giant’s mouth. “That’s one of the strange mysteries that’re revealed to you after death,” said Lor in perfect German. “You find out that all languages are basically the same.”

The two backpackers stood rooted to the spot for a moment until Gunnar let out a paint-peeling scream. Adam followed suit and the two scrambled out of the youth hostel like it was on fire.

“Oh my. I seemed to have frightened them,” said Lor sadly.

“You did, yeah,” came a gravelly voice over Lor’s shoulder. It was accompanied by hot damp breath that smelled of halitosis and kielbasa.

“Hullo, Jotun,” said the voice again and Lor, still seated on the edge of his bed, turned to see the owner. Reclining on the pillows, reading a copy of “Maxim,” was a man who could have been another Jotun for sheer size. He looked about seven feet tall and 300 lbs— 140 of those pounds appeared to be pure muscle. A shaggy head of unkempt hair framed a craggy, square face that looked like it was hewn out of granite. He leered at Lor and revealed a set of white, very sharp teeth.

“Hullo, Fenrir,” said Lor steadily. He had just enough brain cells to be worried, but he was at a loss what to do about it.

“You know me?” said Fenrir in mild amusement. “Good. It’ll save me a lot of trouble. Now I need you to talk to my little wiener of a half-brother.” As Fenrir said the word “talk,” he held up his magazine and punched a hole clean through the cover model's cleavage.

Lor looked unimpressed. “I’m afraid you just missed him. He’s not here now.”

Fenrir shook his head. “Nah. He’s coming back, alright. I know Thoki. Just you deliver a message for me, ‘kay? Tell him Isfat is in ‘the city of the sun'. Got that, Jotun?”

“Isfat is in the city of the sun,” Lor parroted dutifully.

“Oh, and tell him I said NOT to go there,” said Fenris with a grin.

“But you just said...” began Lor looking very confused.

Fenrir placed a friendly arm around the giant’s shoulder. “I’ve got to protect my little brother, don’t I?” he said in a friendly growl. “Wouldn’t want the wiener to get hurt, right?”

“Urrr.”

“So what are we telling Thoki?” prompted Fenrir in the manner of a Kindergarten teacher.

“Don’t let the wiener go to the city of the sun, ‘cause he’ll get hurt,” said Lor uncertainly.

“Close enough,” said Fenrir shrugging. “And you never saw me, got it?”

“I didn’t?” asked Lor. But there was no one there.

Lor bit his lip as he tried to recall what had just happened and what he was supposed to do. Only one thing was crystal clear to him: He was waiting for Thoki.

A sudden impulse made Lor rise from the bed and stand by the range stoves in the corner. Only moments after he had done so, a Black Merceded Benz smashed through the lathe and plaster walls crushing the rows of beds. The engine expired noisily as the windscreen collapsed inward like a fallen cake. Two people were evacuating the car as its front wheels slowly stopped rotating.

“Whoo! That was awesome!” shouted Eris as she bounced out of the driver’s seat. She spun in circles while playing air-guitar and kicking over imaginary amplifiers. Thoki flopped out of the car after her, and lay flat on the detritus-choked floor. He lay there for some time, just to assure himself that he was no longer moving at Mach 3 towards a solid wall. The wail of police sirens was clearly audible now and growing louder the longer he lay there.

“Alright guys. Time for me to jet!” said Eris coyly. She clicked through the menu of her golden ipod for a moment.

“Sweet! I love this song!” she cried out as the guitar riff from “Barracuda” started booming over her earbuds. “Later, taters!”

Blowing Thoki and Lor a kiss, she vanished into the ether leaving the men alone in the trashed youth hostel floor with the sound of gendarmes smashing doors open.

“I’m glad you came back,” said Lor quietly, as he lifted Thoki over his shoulder and began shoving the policemen through walls and furniture.

“Yeah,” said Thoki in a weary voice.

“What did you end up doing?” asked Lor. He swung one officer around like a club to finish off three more.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” said Thoki, a rare flicker of a smile gracing his wan face. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Ep 7. Honor Among Jerks

2010-10-22T22:47:00.001-04:00

Plot Summary: Thoki has been kidnapped (after abandoning Lor) and taken to a gathering of trickster gods from other pantheons. Woo Kong (the Monkey of Buddist Legend) has just revealed the name of the ultimate chaos Thoki is Looking for, ISFAT. Thoki wants to use Isfat for his grand scheme of world conquest. Lor is stuck at the Youth Hostle and wondering which hand on the clock is the hour hand?

“What is ISFAT?” asked Thoki hungrily.

“‘In the beginning there was void’…” said a deep voice. Turning to find it, Thoki saw Anansi lean forward in his armchair and cast a penetrating stare in his direction.

“…so says the Hebrew text, yes?” Anansi asked him. Thoki thought that the spider’s voice sounded very deep and rich, like an ad for male hygiene products.

“I guess,” he said, shrugging. “I’m a little fuzzy on stuff that wasn't written by Snorri Sturluson… or Stan Lee,” he admitted.

Woo Kong shook his head in exasperation. “You’re confusing the boy, Anansi.” He turned to Thoki. “The ancient Egyptians had different views on morality than most people. There was no struggle that was essentially good versus evil.”

“What about Seth and Osiris?” interjected Eleggua, not even looking up from his game.

“Even that was about brotherly rivalry and the symbolism of life after death. Even Seth had aspects in him that the Egyptians admired.”

“Like the Greeks with Hades,” supplied Hermes.

“Just so, but there was no Devil, no Hecate. There was only just punishment for the wicked. There was no good and bad. There was only order… and chaos.”

Thoki had only been nodding absently through this spiel– he could care less about ancient morality–but now he sat bolt upright.

“The goddess of order,” continued Woo Kong “… and the keeper of the laws of Man, was–”

“Maat,” interjected Thoki. He had researched that much.

“Correct. Maat embodied reciprocity, justice, truth, and moderation. Her counterpart was the antithesis of this – an all-consuming, annihilating hunger known as Isfet.”

“Isfet is the god of chaos?” asked Thoki in a reverential whisper.

“A god? No. Isfet is neither male, nor female. It cannot be defined by avatars or imagery. The Egyptians themselves hardly dared mention its name. Isfet is a force, an all-consuming, negating power. According to legend, Isfet was the black-starless waters of Nun before Atem gave birth to Shu and Tefnut, and they became the heavens and earth.”

“In the beginning there was void,” said Anansi again with a cryptic smile.

“That passage has another interpretation, ‘In the beginning, there was chaos’,” finished Woo Kong.

Thoki stared, his mind blown by this revelation.

“D’yah see now?” asked Puck, breaking the reverential silence with his jagged consonants. “This t’ing you’re lookin’ for. It ain’t a trickster god. It ain’t even a god. It don’t take orders, and you can’t talk it into anything. It ain’t even a bloody metaphor for the transience of life, or nuffin’. Isfat isn’t a force of change like we are.”

“It’s a force of oblivion,” finished Hermes. “It is void.”

“So you see? It’s not some ultimate trickster rock of ages, Thoki. It won’t give you the power of a god, and it can’t be controlled, because by definition, it is uncontrolled,” finished Woo-Kong.

“There was only one trickster who tapped that source of blasphemous chaos…” To Thoki’s surprise, Coyote had risen to his feet and was addressing him. His eyes were stern and his expression humourless. Musta been one hell of a fun guy as a trickster, thought Thoki.

“Alright, who was it?” asked Thoki, who already knew the answer.

“Your father, Loki.”

“Thought so,” said Thoki glumly.

Coyote rubbed his neck, regarded the slight Norseman before continuing. “Loki actively set about destroying the Aesir.”

“He didn’t start out that way,” protested Thoki, wondering why he was defending Loki. “Things were just, sort of…exacerbated.”

“Yes. From the moment he stole Sif’s hair. His subsequent humiliation, as his lips were sewn together with leather thongs, set into motion a chain of events that led to the destruction of your gods.”

Raven now stood and joined his brother. “Yours is the only pantheon that was completely obliterated.”

“What about the Babylonians, or the Celts? Hell, even the Greek Pantheon has fallen. Most of you are on the fringe now. Besides, people still pray to the Norse gods.”

“The Norse gods are dead Thoki. Not in hiding, not dwindled, like many of us. Dead.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” conceded Thoki. “Alright, so my dad was a bastard. So what?”

“So we want your solemn oath that you will not attempt to unleash the powers of Isfat,” said Anansi’s deep voice. The old gentleman slowly unfolded himself from the armchair and strode to the others’ table. He extended a gloved hand towards Thoki and held it there, waiting for it to be shaken.

“I still don’t get what’s the big deal,” said Thoki petulantly. He felt a knot press in his stomach as he eyed the gloved hand warily. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He was in trouble now. If he shook Anansi’s hand it was over. No backsides, no crossed fingers. There was too much power, too much magic in this room. No, a handshake on a bargain in here would be as binding as a Hollywood contract.

“If you unleash Isfat, the seen and the unseen will be cast into terrible peril,” said Reynard, still hunched over the table. He didn’t even look up as his raspy whisper made Thoki’s blood freeze. “More than likely the universe would be consumed by the primordial chaos it was spawned from.”

“Damn,” said Thoki in a faint voice.

“You must promise,” insisted Anansi’s tombstone voice again. His hand crept in microscopic increments toward Thoki.

Thoki felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and he shivered feverishly in his damp clothing. To make matters worse, he felt two hands drop onto his shoulders. One was Puck’s and the other was Hermes’. They weren’t hurting him, but the weight of their hold left no room for doubt that hurting was an option should Thoki decide to be difficult.

“Uh…er….uh!” stammered Thoki, squirming in his chair. Puck’s and Hermes’s grips became a little tighter. The air crackled and stung with energy as the hand advanced, and the fingers on his shoulder bit deeper. Thoki was, by now, well and truly terrified. His breath came in ragged gasps as he felt his heart thrum like a hummingbird’s. The other trickster’s stares bore into him as they leaned forward in anticipation, their collective breath held in suspense.

“SHAKE IT ALREADY!” shouted Eleggua, jumping off of his stool and flinging his game console to the floor where it clattered and broke.

As the plastic cracked and smashed into pieces, so did their hold on Thoki.

“YOU FOOL!” Woo Kong snapped at the boy.

Thoki wriggled out of Hermes’ and Puck’s hold and tried to jump up from his seat, but another set of hands held him down – Raven, had seized him by the arms and shoved him back into it. Hermes then hooked Thoki around the neck, while Puck wrapped his stout arm under his armpits.

“Make him shake hands!” shouted Reynard.

Raven nodded, and using all his strength, tried to man-handle Thoki’s arm into position. Thoki cursed and struggled, fighting them off with all his strength as Anansi’s hand grew dangerously close.

“No! HE has to do it!” cried Puck, releasing Thoki and standing back. Thoki got his legs under him, and managed to pull back a bit.

“He’s right!” shouted Woo Kong. “This violates all laws. Thoki has to do it of his own free will.”

“He’s not going to! We can’t take that chance!” countered Reynard.

“At the risk of the magic turning on us?”

“Better cursed than erased for all time!” countered the Frenchman.

“Help me!” grunted Raven. Coyote watched his brother in discomfort and seemed to be dithering on a decision. Eleggua had no such qualms and launched himself on the chair. It toppled over, smashing into Hermes’ nose and giving Thoki a second of unfettered freedom. It was all he needed. In a flash, he’d rolled to his feet and scampered out of the room. He ran with his heart pounding in his throat, certain that any second he’d feel a blow to his kidneys, or the tread of a foot on his heel.

It never came. Turning around he realized, to his surprise, that they weren’t even chasing him.

“What gives?” he muttered uneasily.

He heard a laugh by his ear that made him whip around. A short, sloe-haired and decidedly sexy woman was standing next to him. In her hand was a gold-plated iPod.

“I thought you could use my help,” she said with a grin.

“ERIS?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

PART SIX: Tricksters Anonymous

2010-09-23T18:56:00.000-04:00

Recap: Thoki and Lor have gone their separate ways. Thoki has run across the Greek Trickster, Hermes. Hermes has "kidnapped" Thoki and his intentions are unknown. Lor has forgotten by now that Thoki has said goodbye and left. He currently thinks Thoki's in the loo.

   Thoki opened his eyes and peeled himself off the concrete floor. He found himself in a darkened restaurant kitchen. Dusty range stoves lined the musty walls. The air smelled of rust and mildew and made Thoki sneeze. He squinted in the gloom as he rose to his feet.

   A bare lightbulb flicked on above him, and Hermes was standing over him. Thoki shivered and wrapped his arms around his body for warmth, his hands touched cold wet fabric.

            “Why am I soaking wet?” he asked between chattering teeth.
            “It rained on the way,” shrugged Hermes, who was bone dry.
            “Where am I?”
            “You’ll see.

   A door burst open on the left and Thoki recoiled instantly from a figure entering the room. He looked dangerous. He wasn’t a tall lad, but he was tightly packed with condensed muscle. His shaven head made his steel grey eyes all the more prominent in his pale face. There was nothing but dead earnest in the set of his jaw and his determined stride. A jean jacket covered in faded paint marker flapped heavily around an ancient Sex Pistols tee-shirt. His heavy work boots clomped on the flagstone floors as he rushed towards the pair.

            He stopped short of Hermes, and stared at the purple-lipped Thoki. His face suddenly became benign, and even bemused.
            “Wotcher,” he said. His face broke into a lopsided grin, revealing several chipped teeth as he offered a hand to help Thoki to his feet. “So you couldn’t talk him out of it?” he asked Hermes in a thick cockney accent.
            “I would have brought him anyway, Goodfellow,” said the Greek with a sneer.
            “Sure you woulda,” shrugged Goodfellow, and clapped a hand on Thoki’s shoulder. “Come wif us, sunshine,” he said a little more harshly. “You need to know summat.”
            Thoki shook off the hand.
            “About what?”
            Goodfellow hesitated and glanced at Hermes before answering, “About your Dad.”
            “Don’t–” began Thoki.
            “I’m sorry if it’s hard to hear but–”
            “Why the hell does everyone think that I give a damn about Loki?” cried Thoki.
            Goodfellow was struck dumb for a moment. “Wh-…What, didn’t you get on?”
            “Why the hell would I?”
            “Well…” Goodfellow shrugged. “I dunno…he was just so…charming, y’know? Seemed like a real nice guy.”
            “That’s what Baldur said,” was Thoki’s answer.
            Goodfellow coughed nervously and motioned to the doorway he’d just gone through. Thoki’s eyes darted from side to side, looking for an exit.
            “I wouldn’t,” warned Hermes, flanking him.
            “You wouldn’t want to miss the party, anyways,” said Goodfellow’s grainy voice as he marched forward, steering Thoki ahead of him.
            “Party?” asked Thoki, uncertainly. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t involve balloon animals and a piñata.
            “More like a convention,” came Hermes’s drawl behind him.
            “Yeah. Tricksters anonymous,” added Goodfellow with a dry chuckle.
            Thoki had the sudden mental image of the skin-head standing up in a circle of animal gods and saying ‘Hello, my name is Puck and I’m a dick,’ (hello, Puck).
            They marched up a steep step and into the restaurant’s dining room. Most of the tables were cleared, except for one set up near a rustic stone fireplace. A cluster of several men, who seemed to represent all ages, races, and cultures, occupied a set of mismatched chairs. If it was a party it was more depressing than quarterly sales pizza-fests at INDTco.

            There was an anemic-looking Frenchman hunched up in a cardigan and coveralls. He sported a shock of red hair, a long nose and scraggly sideburns. He sniffed dolefully at Thoki, by way of acknowledgement, before muttering a string of profanity under his breath. Thoki recognized him as Reynard the Fox.

   Next to Reynard sat two men, shoulder to shoulder, in adjoining chairs. To Thoki, it seemed they could have been brothers. Both had russet skin and aquiline noses between high cheekbones. Both had dark black hair, which was so black it was almost blue. There the similarities ended. The one on the left had left his hair long, while the one on the right had his cut down to the “high and tight” regulations of the armed forces. The long haired man wore a plaid shirt with a white vest underneath, he was wearing a hemp necklace that was nearly rotten with wear. It had bone beads and in the middle was a carved hematite raven. The short-haired man was sporting military camouflage and dog tags. His skin was tanned darker than his brother’s and had a line-art tattoo on his inner wrist. It was of a howling coyote.

   A young American boy, probably in his early twenties, had his expensive athletic shoes on the table as he leaned back in his chair. He seemed to be made of all arms and legs, as his bright “Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets” jersey kept attacking Thoki’s eyes in the dim room. He was eating a sponge cake (there were a plate of them) and had another poised in his hand, waiting to be devoured. He seemed familiar, but Thoki was uncertain.
            “Hare?” he asked.
            “Nah, I moved to America,” he said, “’M called Brer Rabbit now.”
            “Oh,” said Thoki, blankly. “How’s that working out for you?”
            Brer Rabbit snorted. Coyote and Raven exchanged grimaces.

   A Chinese man in his forties, whose face seemed to be constantly creased with suppressed laughter, sat at the far end of the table. The button holes on his yellow Nehru jacket bounced and fluttered as he bobbed his head. It seemed he was waiting for everyone else to get “the joke” and laugh first. He looked like an amiable man without a shred of malice in him, which made Thoki instantly distrustful of him and wonder who he was.

   An African man in his seventies was sitting away from the low table. He had grabbed the most comfortable armchair by the fireplace, and insinuated himself in it. He was dressed in a handsome three-piece suit. He held a cane between his gloved hands. The handle was a shiny gunmetal orb with the shape of an hourglass picked out in tiny rubies. His eyes twinkled merrily and his smile revealed a set of teeth that were astonishingly white and straight. They seemed to radiate light, in contrast to his dark cheeks.
   “Anansi,” gasped Thoki in awe. He flinched when the old man nodded at him.

   In the far corner was an incongruous character: a small child, about seven or eight, with skin the colour of caramel, wearing an Iron Man 2 tee-shirt and jeans. He was seated on a barstool swinging his legs with pent up energy. He was playing with a Nintendo DSI and chomping ferociously on a wad of gum the size of a grapefruit. He glanced up briefly at Thoki and gave him a precocious smile.

   “Who the hell are you?” asked Thoki; he fidgeted. Kids made him nervous.
   “I’m Eleggua,” said the boy happily, in a voice tinged with a Creole French accent. “Who the fuck are you?”
   “I’m Thoki Lokisson,” said Thoki, arching an eyebrow.
   “Good for you,” said the kid, before turning up the volume on his game system and ignoring him.

     “Good grief,” spat Thoki turning back to the other men. “What the hell is this?” he asked them.

            The other men, glanced at the Chinese man in yellow who had suddenly gained some gravity. His eyes were still smiling, but his face was set in a serious expression.

            “Who–?” began Thoki.
            “I am Wu-Kong, the Monkey King,” he said in a musical voice. “I, and the men you see here before you, are avatars of chaos: the tricksters. We represent eternal change and flux in the human condition. We act as everymen who challenge and provoke powerful gods on behalf of the mortals. We are cautionary tales to encourage mankind to be merciful to each other. We even entertain the world with our failures. Our offices make us the bridge between life and death and back again. Messengers, creators, fire-bringers, ferrymen, voice of the downtrodden: that is what we are. That is what your father was, except in one aspect…”

            Thoki took in Wu-Kong’s grave expression and steeled himself.

            The monkey god continued: “Trickster gods are the officers of mischief and luck. We embody both good and bad, but we are never evil. Loki broke that trust with mankind when he killed Baldur.”

            “Twice,” said Thoki acidly.
            “Just so,” nodded Wu-Kong. “That malice came from a different source of Chaos, unlike that of a trickster–an ancient evil force. It is called ISFAT.”

TO BE CONTINUED...

Beware of Greeks Wearing Versace

2010-09-03T14:23:00.005-04:00

Recap: Thoki & Lor have been journeying across the Mediterranean towards Egypt. Thoki's wants to learn more about the Source of Ultimate Chaos and use it to rule the world. Lor wants to learn "where the bread goes" when he makes toast.

Young Thoki entered the dark cave. He’d never been here before, his mother had wished to spare him the pain until he’d been prepared. What pain? Thoki and his father had never been close. Even now as he descended into Loki’s prison, Thoki was urged on by curiosity not compassion. He would hold the bowl. He’d promised his mother that, and he would do his best to keep the poison from falling on his father’s face. Still if his hand should slip or during those moments when he had to empty the bowl, it’d be interesting to see his father writhe in pain.

His feet grew heavier as he approached the interior chamber and he hesitated. Odin had told him not to go, that it could lead to disaster, but he had to go, to see. Most of all, Thoki wanted to know that his father was finally in a place where he couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Thoki heard laboured breathing and rounded the last turn of the narrow passageway. There he was. Thoki remembered his father being handsome. Like all the Aesir, Loki had been the epitome of his sex and forever young. Now he looked gaunt and withered, his mouth still scarred from where leather thongs had once bound his mouth shut. His fiery red hair was streaked with grey and lines framed his boyish face. As always his eyes were black coals, twinkling with disarming energy. It was impossible to hate Loki, not when he went out of his way to make himself appealing. It was the trickster’s mark. It had never worked on Thoki, however, since Loki had never cared whether the boy’d liked him or not… until today.

Loki lifted his heavy head, and smiled charmingly at his youngest son through his marred lips.

“Hey, sport. How’s it going?”

*****

“You’ve got everything you need?”

“Yes, Thoki,” answered Lor.

“You’ll remember to eat three times a day?” Thoki asked the lumbering giant.

“Yes, Thoki.”

“And not just junkfood, okay?”

“Yes Thoki.”

“I’ve done your laundry for you. Your Thomas the Tank Engine shirt is on top. I know that’s you’re favorite.”

“Yes. Thank you, Thoki.”

Thoki shouldered his backpack, full of his few possessions and prepared to leave.

“Look, I’m really sorry about this. It’s nothing personal, you understand.”

“I understand.”

“It’s just I think we need to go our separate ways.”

“Yes, Thoki.” Lor only nodded with no expression on his hammy face.

It made Thoki’s stomach feel even more squeezed by guilt. He tried to swallow it and walk away.

“You know I’m not coming back, right,” he prompted.

“I know,” answered Lor.

Thoki grimaced and walked out the door to the youth hostile. Lor, seated on the flat bug-infested bed said nothing. There was no need. Thoki always came back.

Thoki felt like scum as he walked down the streets of Bastia. After a grueling month or two adrift at sea (he’d lost count of the days) he and Lor had run aground on the island of Corsica. It had come as a relief somewhat, since Jormungandr had been singing show-tunes at them the entire time. After a day the serpent had run out of songs and started repeating them. Thoki reflected that if he ever heard “One Day More,” one day more he’d have to suppress the urge to make a pipe bomb.

It was colder these days, and Thoki wrapped his zip hoodie tightly around himself as he walked without direction. He just had to get away. He had been getting closer to Lor, and that was dangerous, so he left. Oh, sure, he’d left about eight times already and always ran back when the loneliness became so depressing he’d thought he would die. But this time was different. He was leaving for good this time. Friends were a liability. They made you vulnerable–made you weak.

He found that his feet were taking him to very swanky part of town. The shop windows were full of handbags, and shoes, and silk shirts, and absolutely no price tags. Tanned women and men were strutting down the sidewalks in designer clothes and sunglasses. Thoki suddenly felt shabby and inadequate… and very pale. He wondered what he was doing here, why had he felt compelled to wander into this district? And then he saw the reason.

A bronze-skinned young man in a floral silk shirt and scarf was seated at a wrought iron café table. His dark brown hair was expertly styled, his white pants dazzlingly clean and immaculate. Thoki sniffed at the leather purse dangling on the back of the man’s chair. He’d heard of a “manbag,” but had never seen one before. Then again, he’d never seen a man in lilac silk before either.

The man had a carefully calculated air of casual elegance. He was sipping a cappuccino and admiring the beautiful women that clipped past (Thoki amended that–beautiful women and men that clipped past). While he leered, the man absently fingered the gorgeous silk scarf around his neck.

“Hermes?” inquired Thoki approaching him.

“Yes it is, but it’s pronounced, ER-MAY,” said the man, before looking up. (Thoki thought the word, ‘queer’ instead of ‘man.’ Vikings were not typically raised to be open-minded.)

“Oh you mean me,” said the man with a polite smile.

“Yeah, you’re the guy with the wings on his ankles. Hermes, right?” asked Thoki ducking under the café awning.

“I’m wearing Manolos today. Hello, Thoki, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Me?” cried Thoki, taken aback. He didn’t think Hermes knew he existed. “What do you mean waiting.”

“We all have been,” said Hermes. “Take a seat, will you?”

“We?” Thoki eyed the seat warily, like it might have poison spikes on it, and eventually decided to sit. He tried not to think about how it might appear to other people to see two men, one in pink, seated at a café table.

“Antonio, please bring my friend a coffee and a selection of pastries,” said Hermes to one of the waiters.

“Yes, Signor Fattorino,” replied the waiter before scurrying off.

“Fattorino? Messanger boy?” translated Thoki, when Antonio had left. “Cute. Real cute.”

“Less is more,” replied Hermes with a shrug. “But let’s talk about you.”

Thoki tried not to look uncomfortable as the god’s dark eyes swept over him with unmasked interest. Hermes, another trickster, was turning on the charm. “The source of ultimate chaos, was it, Thoki?”

Thoki blanched whiter than his Nordic pallor. “How did you know that?”

“I know it. I know more than you think about it, perhaps. The Greek and Egyptian pantheon were united briefly, if you recall.”

“It was after my time,” said Thoki, who wasn’t sure.

“I even know the name of what you’re looking for,” continued Hermes.

“You do? What is it?” said Thoki leaning in.

For the first time since their meeting, Hermes looked uncomfortable. He shifted in his iron chair and glanced towards the street. “I don’t have permission to tell you, but… it’s not what you think it is. This Chaos you’re after, it’s nothing any of us can master or contain. You’re a fool to think you could harness it.”

Thoki bristled at this effeminate nancy-boy trying to tell him off. “Oh really?” he said with a sneer.

“It’s not going to bring him back,” said Hermes gently. “I know you’re doing this to please your father but–”

“EXCUSE ME?” cried Thoki sitting up, abruptly. “Where do you get off? I’m not doing JACK to please my dad. Not all of us are happy with our deadbeat fathers, Hermes. Here in the loosey-goosey Adriatic, you might enjoy being a little bastard, but in Norway, father-son relationships are a bit more complicated.”

“We’re in the Tyrrhenian Sea, dolt,” said Hermes acidly.

“Whatever. Just don’t mess with me, douche-bag. I have my own reasons for doing this.”

“Well, if I can’t convince you… maybe you’d be willing to come with me. I know someone who can tell you all about the Source of Ultimate Chaos.”

“No,” said Thoki.
"You don't trust me?"
"DUH."

“Well at least wait until after breakfast,” said Hermes indicating the plate of éclairs and the steaming hot coffee that had just arrived.

Thoki tried to ignore the heavenly scent that was wafting from the coffee and food. He hadn’t eaten a decent meal in over a year, and he hadn’t eaten solid food for about 2 months. His stubborn pride vanished utterly as he grabbed the cappuccino from its saucer and took a deep drink. It was bitter and very strong, but filled him with gorgeous warmth and caffeine. He then bit into the éclair, and saw stars. He never realized that food could taste like this.

Overcome with fatigue, remorse and emotion, Thoki burst into tears and cried face-down onto the table. Hermes almost regretted clubbing Thoki over the head with a blackjack.

***

Back at the hostel, Lor hadn’t moved. He was still waiting for Thoki.

Thoki and Hermes

4. "DA-DUN"

2010-08-31T00:05:00.001-04:00

First published, August 19, 2010

“Thoki?”
“What.”
“I think I see it again.”
“Oh, crap, you’re right. Paddle faster!”

Thoki and Lor were on the western side the Atlantic Ocean heading roughly east towards the Mediterranean. Standard forms of travel had been out of the question. Between the two of them, they had managed to save up only $128.34 from various odd jobs and petty thievery. That wasn’t enough to get a plane ticket for Thoki, let alone Lor who would have needed to purchase an extra seat to accommodate his backside. Plus he would have had to hunch the entire way to keep from banging his head on the overhead compartment.

Thus stymied, they had tried to stow-away aboard a cruise ship. This plan had worked for all of twenty minutes. Thoki was still nursing some bruises from when they were arrested and put ashore in Florida. Stupid Disney. Down to their last Benjamin, Thoki attempted to be resourceful. He waltzed into a beach-shop and began to purchase/shoplift supplies.

Now he was 40 miles out to sea, with his cohort, in a crude raft made of inflatable alligator pool-toys held together with duct tape. Three inflatable beer-coolers swam beneath them, acting as ballast. They were filled with containers of Ensure, Red Bull and Dasani, which were their only concessions to hydration and nutrition. The Red Bull was for Lor, who was currently acting as the outboard motor. He was wearing a large innertube around his waist, and orange water-wings, as his massive legs thrashed the water, keeping up the steady “kick, kick, kick,” they’d been doing all morning. Lor never got tired, he didn’t have enough imagination to get tired.

Right now, however, he was kicking more frantically as Thoki called out to him.
“Starboard, kick starboard!”
“Is that left or right?” asked Lor.
“It’s that way,” said Thoki, pointing.
“So left?”
“No, that’s… wait. Does it matter which way I’m facing?”
“I think it depends on which way the boat is facing,” said Lor in one of his rare moments of lucidity.
“Oh… so port, then?”
“No thanks, I don’t drink.”
“Too late! Here it comes again!” cried Thoki in a panicked voice. He pulled on the tether holding Lor to the craft, and tried to pull him aboard. After a few close calls and near-capsizes, the giant managed to clamber onto the squeaking wet alligator toys.

The two stared in growing anxiety, huddled beneath a pile of stolen beach towels, as a large dark shape came closer to the boat.
“It might just be a whale,” said Thoki in a whisper.
DA-DUN.
“Or not,” he added mournfully.
DA-DUN.
“I’m scared,” said Lor quietly.
DA-DUN-DUN.
“Just don’t make any sudden moves,” said Thoki. “Keep quiet and don’t touch the water.”
"Okie-dokie, Thoki."
DA-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN
“It’s getting closer,” whimpered the giant, trying pathetically to make himself smaller.
BADDA-BUNNNNNNNNNNN (DUN-DUN-DUN-DUN)
The water began to boil and churn as the dark shape got closer and closer. Thoki and Lor, held each other tightly as scales and fins began to flash beneath the surface.
BADA-BUN! BADA-BUN!
The ocean rose suddenly in a column of green water that erupted from the waves. A terrifying creature rose sixty feet in the air and came down again in a horrible splash. It was a sea serpent that seemed too big to be possible. The undulating coils were larger and longer than a freight train as jaws, the size of a drawbridge, snapped at them.

“BADA-BUN!” sang the snake-head joyfully. Its breath tore at the two sailors, smelling of death and chocolate milk. In confirmation, a few empty Ensure cans floated to the surface.

“JORM! KNOCK IT OFF!” screamed Thoki.
“Aw, don’t have a hissy-fit, wiener. I was just funnin’ yah,” said Jormungandr, the world serpent.
“And stop eating our food supply!” Thoki snapped again at his half-brother.

Jormungandr was in his traditionally ‘mythic’ form this time, that of a gigantic cretaceous clidastes. He didn’t exactly run the length of the world–the Ancient Norsemen did like to exaggerate– but he could circle around Australia at least. The giant sea-serpent was supposedly so hideous that no mortal could look on it without going insane, but Thoki was used to it by now and tried to stare down the mad rolling yellow eyes.

“And do you have to sing the theme to ‘Jaws’ every time? It’s getting old.”
“I could sing the theme to the Poseidon Adventure. There’s got to be a morning afterrrr, If we can hold on through the niiiiiiiii–!”
“NO SINGING!”
“Aw, you got such a stick up your ass.”
“Can you sing something from an ocean-themed movie where nobody dies?”
“Alright. Have it your way,” said Jormungand with a poisonous grin. “Under da Seeea! Under da Seeeaaa!...”
“Is he going to do this all the way to Egypt?” asked Lor meekly.
“Or until he gets bored and tries to eat us,” said Thoki.
“I prefer the singing.”
“Me too, actually– he’s not that bad.”
“Up on de shore, dey work all day…” sang the serpent.
“This is going to be a long freaking trip though,” sighed Thoki.
“Who wants to hear me sing the theme to Spongebob?” cried Jorm turning happily in spirals.
“Ooh! Ooh! Me!" said Lor, raising his hand.
"I can't heeeere yooou!"
"Aye-aye, Captain!"

“Drama queen,” Thoki muttered.