application for Mr. Wednesday (American Gods)

[callmewednesday]

(( note, 11/21: I've been feeling under the weather, and thus slow with the tags, but I will get back to everyone's tags! Feel free to toss people at Wednesday. Today is, after all, his day

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[totallyluminous]

Mel isn't drawn by the aspect of money, though it would be nice to get something decent for Brice for Christmas. And she can do a lot with £50.

'That myth,' she says, careful not to insult any gods as she once did whilst talking about the Egyptians (and thus getting sent back in time with her demon archenemy) 'Is it the one with Thor's hammer and Freya having to marry the frost giant, and Thor going as her? Loki accompanied them, the hammer was brought out because the giant had stolen, and they smashed a few skulls and went back to Asgard?'

And, because this guy is really freaky, she ducks her head as she finishes, almost afraid it's wrong.

[callmewednesday]

A studious schoolgirl, is she? Don't think Wednesday doesn't pick up those angelic vibes, either. One of his gifts is to know the names of all the gods; he can tell a supernatural being when he sees one.

She's no maiden, either, young as she is, holy as she is. Wednesday finds her, too, amusing. This place promises much entertainment. Wordplay is the only kind of entertainment he expects or wants from this angel girl, luckily.

(She's a brunette, and also he doesn't much like things appertaining to the Judeo-Christian god. Though he holds neither of these against her, it doesn't add up to attractive.)

"Tell me the name of the frost giant, and I'll toss in another fifty, sky-maid."

[totallyluminous]

Mel's eyes, when she looks up, are not surprised, but they are a little wary. She shakes her head. 'I only remember how he was described. 'A boil the size of a dinner plate and skin the consistency of rice pudding.''

(She doesn't remember that much about Norse myths, and is hoping the giant and this Wednesday character are not related.)

'And I'm Mel--Melanie--by the way. Do you know where you are?'

It's a safe bet he does, being a god and all. But it's polite to ask.

[callmewednesday]

Shrugging, Wednesday opens his wallet and hands over a single crisp bill with a picture of Benjamin Franklin on it. Is it legit? Maybe. What matters is that it will be accepted as legal tender anywhere.

"A pleasure to meet you, Melanie, and to hear your fine answers. Why don't you tell me where I am?"

Note he didn't say he didn't know.

[pippithepirate]

Pippi twitched a freckly nose, and absentmindedly scratched Mr. Nilsson's head. The monkey was, as always, following her wherever she went, and was now looking at the newcomer with surprising serenity

[callmewednesday]

Wednesday replied easily in the same language. Languages were another of his gifts, and he liked Pippi's more than most.

"You could say Wednesday is my name-day," he said, with a kindly-uncle smile (not the creepy kind). Speaking to her made him feel a little at home. "Birthday is a good name for you. It's festive. May I say hello to your friend? He rides your shoulder the way my ravens ride mine when they are with me."

[pippithepirate]

Name-day? ...There should be a Pippiday. Oh, definitely. She grinned hugely. When Mr. Wednesday talked in her language, he reminded her a bit of her Papa.

Mr. Nilsson stood up on her shoulder, tiny claws gripping at her hair to steady himself, and he leaned towards Mr. Wednesday and made a chirpy noise. It looked like he might leap from Pippi's shoulder to the man's at any time. He did that a lot. Most often when he felt that the person in question didn't want him to, in fact.

"He says you can," Pippi translated willingly. "He's a Mister too, you know. Mr. Nilsson." She held out her arm so that the monkey could climb down it. "How many ravens do you have? Do they bring your mail?" Like the owls did?

[callmewednesday]

Wednesday was not much like Efraim Longstocking, except in one key regard: Efraim Longstocking was a pirate and a king.

"Hello, Mr. Nilsson." An animal like this one was to be respected. "I have two ravens," Wednesday replied, as much to Mr. Nilsson as to Pippi, "and they bring me news from all over the world. Their names are Thought and Memory."

[johnryder]

((Repost for typo-killing goodness))

....Waaaait a minute. The man's application was interesting, but more interesting still was the fact that he looked uncannily like Ryder, or Ryder looked uncannily him. Wednesday, huh? Ryder wasn't exactly all up ons studying the ancient gods, but he wasn't stupid; this guy really was Odin. Odin Odin. The resemblance was nowhere near exact--Wednesday looked a good twenty years older than Ryder himself--but it was close enough to be...well, pretty damn odd.

He laughed at Wednesday's answer to question four. "You see many people come back from the dead all ready to go?" he asked. Ryder himself had never seen a zombie until he came here--at least, as far as he knew he hadn't; his memory was an unreliable thing at best.

[callmewednesday]

While Wednesday had always been a master of disguise, he had not chosen his body, precisely. Shadow could have told the people here that the Icelandic incarnation of Odin had much the same face.

But Shadow wasn't here, and Wednesday had never seen his Icelandic incarnation, the one he bitterly knew had a much easier time of things.

In any event, Wednesday felt a little proprietary of this face never mind that his and Ryder's muns have known for ages the two would have the same PB, and that Ryder properly has more of a right to it. He was a little amused to find a demon wearing it. He was also exasperated, more exasperated than amused

[johnryder]

In all honesty, Ryder had absolutely no idea who had picked his face, or why, or if it was purely random chance. He highly doubted the latter, though--in his experience, there really wasn't any such thing as a coincidence. They--whoever 'they' actually were--had probably done it on purpose, though why they would have done so, he couldn't even begin to guess.

He lit a cigarette. "Nobody told me I'd been made to imitate a god," he said. "Nobody must've told you you had a lookalike, either. Wonder what in the hell whoever did it is playing at." It really was extremely surreal, seeing himself mirrored by a freaking god. Ryder, while by no means low on the demonic pantheon, was hardly in the upper echelon, either. There wasn't any reason that he should have been made to look like Odin. Odin.

[callmewednesday]

"Someone's idea of a joke," Wednesday answered tersely. It seemed self-evident enough to him. "I don't expect your masters tell you much of anything. I know their kind. I'd offer you a better job if I didn't think they've probably got you under an ironclad indenture."

[schizowarrior]

((Repost because I totally lose at spelling))

Molly very, very rarely stopped by the Sorting Room, but she happened to be passing on her way out to sword practice and stuck her head in. Hmmm...interesting.

"Counsel, huh?" she said, stepping in. "What kind of counsel? The therapy kind, or the more useful kind?" It didn't occur to her that Wednesday might not know what 'therapy' was.

[callmewednesday]

Wednesday was American enough to know what therapy was, after a fashion

[schizowarrior]

If Molly had known his thoughts on Xenu, she would have cracked up. Even she, admitted crazy that she was, wasn't nuts enough to believe in Scientology--mutants, yes; scientology, not so much. With the perception that sometimes accompanies madness, she did know that there was something decidedly...unusual...about this guy. He wasn't a mutant, but that was as much as she could tell.

"I'm Molly," she said, holding out a hand. "Have you really seen zombies? I killed--or is it re-killed?--a lot one Christmas Eve, when they locked a bunch of people in the church and tried to barbecue them."

Yep. Even when relatively sane, Molly was still very...Molly.

[callmewednesday]

Wednesday shook her hand firmly. "Good to know you, Molly. Any woman who can slay a horde of zombies is a woman I'm happy to know."

[brainy5]

During a lull in his own Sorting, Brainiac 5 took a few moments to evaluate other Sortings going on at the same time. It seemed very... social. The application was nothing like an effective audition as far as he was concerned, but the voting seemed familiar.

He'd intended to do no more than evaluate, but this applicant's answer to 5B involved a knowledge challenge. "Out of curiosity, do you dispense all your advice based on the Poetic Edda?"

[callmewednesday]

Wednesday gave a snort. "Why would I base my advice on that?" It was rather a chicken-and-egg kind of question.

[brainy5]

"Insanity." It was a valid enough reason, and the only one that made immediate sense. "You used the Thrymskvida in your application, not strictly accurately. It seemed like an odd choice, so I asked."

[callmewednesday]

"It had to be modified to suit the situation proposed," Wednesday said. "Are you wanting the bounty, now?" He reached for his wallet.