Under Lock And Key (Open)
Odin needed a cup of coffee. And a good piss. But the toilet in the corner was almost too far away right now. More than all of those things, he needed a hot shower. The stink coming off of him was offending himself. It was no wonder they'd thought what they thought of him. A couple Tylenol and a jug of water would also go a long way toward righting the old god.
He tipped his head to peer through the bars, groaning at the pain that shot through his head. When had humankind come to this point? There was also no denying it was his own fault he was still here. He could easily remove himself, but his current hangover made him cringe inwardly at the idea. Any effort was too much at the moment. But it was easier to blame the mortals for forgetting what he'd tried to teach them.
What had happened to the days of common decency and hospitality? Men forgot to care for each other. To fear who they might offend if they refused entrance to a humble man in need of refuge and sustenance. Gone apparently were the days when people believed it really might be a god at the door. So what if it wasn't? Didn't any person in need deserve kindness?
Not any more. Odin knew this. He should have come to Midgard more prepared. Instead, the drunk old man with the eye patch showing up in a pawn shop with a handful of golden rings- identical golden rings- just looking to make enough money for a motel room and a bit of meat was enough to call the cops. Get him arrested and thrown in the clink, as it were. Ah well, it was a place to sleep, anyway. But he never got that meal, and now it didn't look like he was even going to get coffee. And he really did need a shower. Too many park benches had taken their toll.
If not for this hangover, he'd show them. Then again, if not for the bourbon, he might have made slightly wiser decisions in the first place. With a sigh, he forced himself up of the cot and made his way to the toilet. Relieving himself, he figured it was probably better to just sleep the hangover away and then get the fuck out of here before someone decided it was time to get some information from the old geezer in the cell. If not for the rings of Draupner, they'd probably just let him go as a drunk who'd sobered up enough to take care of himself. But those rings had raised a lot of questions.
Maybe he should suck it up and just disappear before anyone showed up. Then they could all talk about the strange man and the stranger disappearance over their damned donuts and coffee.