Who: Riddick riddickr & Mr Wednesday misterwednesday What: Beltane When: Wednesday, May 1, very, very early morning Where: The Settlement Rating: Reader Discretion is Advised Warnings: Riddick has a tendency toward crude language, violence, and lack of social graces. Status: Matchup/Complete
~*~
People were more of a nuisance to Riddick than a curiosity. He rarely chose to interact with anyone if he could help it. Sometimes the boredom outweighed his lack of interest in social ventures; Riddick blamed having never lived a tame life for his attempts to look for something interesting in others rather than staying quiet in those times.
"Enjoy the celebration?"
Older people were as rare as children to Riddick. Most slams ate up convicts long before lines started to form on their faces or streaks began to lighten their hair. Children were kept indoors for safety. Old people stayed indoors because they wanted to keep getting older. Riddick had never seen a member of his own kind who had lived past their prime. He wasn't sure if that was a thing which had ever happened on Furya. There wasn't anyone to ask so he'd never know either. It did make for an interesting bit of knowledge to mull over.
Riddick liked the look of the older man he'd approached. There was something timeless in his face, confident in his carriage, comfortable being in the darkness of the late night as only someone who has journeyed long and far can be---unless they happened to be a creature of the night in the way of Riddick. He didn't think this man was a night animal though. The look wasn't quite right for that preference to hold water.
"You look to me like you're a man can find enjoyment no problem. Anytime, anywhere? That about right or I got you figured wrong?"
Riddick could be wrong. He wasn't omniscient or some psychic bullshit. He just had good instincts. Instincts weren't infallible though and Riddick was willing to concede he might be making a lot out of a few minutes studying on a man at 3 or 4 AM. The guy could have just fallen asleep somewhere only to wake up ready to go home.
Wednesday was definitely enjoying the celebration. He was pleased with the outcome, pleased that Sigrun had set up said celebration. He knew that anything Sigrun set up would be enjoyable. He hadn’t been proven wrong as of yet. Everything he had attended of Sigrun’s had far surpassed his expectations.
He offered the man a small smile, and nodded in response to his question. “I am enjoying myself, yes,” he told the man. Beltane was a good reason to celebrate, especially to someone like Wednesday. He wasn’t just an older man, he was Odin. The All-Father. So he was much, much older than he appeared.
There was another smile from Wednesday, “I am definitely the sort of person who kind find enjoyment anytime, anywhere. I find that life might be too short to not enjoy it.” Perhaps not for Wednesday, but he definitely wanted to enjoy his life as much as possible. There was far too much to enjoy.
He offered the man his hand, “I am Wednesday.” He decided it was best to introduce himself to the man he had been speaking to.
Shaking hands was universal. Riddick extended his own to briefly grasp Wednesday's before releasing him.
“Riddick. I'm new enough that New Abductee Smell hasn't faded yet so this is a welcome wind-down for me. Can't stand too much civilization. Makes my skin too tight and then I start itching for a fight."
Wednesday had a jovial manner to him Riddick didn't want to spoil. He left out how people tended to end up dead when he started itching for a fight. There was no reason to mention anything of the sort. Riddick wasn't trying to intimidate Wednesday and he had nothing to prove to the guy. All he wanted was a little conversation from someone who looked at home in the Settlement.
The apartment given to him on arrival was stifling. Riddick was able to manage it in small increments of time only. A shower here or a meal prepared in the convenience of a kitchen there. It wasn't the ideal arrangement for him; he knew he needed to come up with something more suitable than sleeping in trees in the park or wandering the forest or riverbank until he was too tired to keep going.
Giving Wednesday a brief once over, Riddick decided to ask, "You know who I should talk to about staying out here? I don't do great in that box they gave me a key to when I got here. I'm getting tired of sleeping in the park . Be different if I could set up a camp. That's not possible in public property. I think I could like it out here."
Riddick knew he could at least be more comfortable. That was worth the annoyance of having to ask someone permission to stay on the Settlement lands.
Wednesday considered Riddick’s question for a moment. “I suppose Sigrun would be the one to talk to about staying here,” he said, after a bit of consideration. “This is her settlement. I am sure she would have no problems allowing you to stay here, she and the rest of the group here are quite welcoming.”
Of course, they may have been welcoming to Wednesday because of who he happened to be. They believed in the Norse Gods for the most part, and Wednesday happened to be one of those gods. He was Odin, the All Father.
He allowed his gaze to move along the faces of various people within the Settlement at the moment. He then spotted Sigrun, and pointed her out for Riddick. “That is the woman you want to speak with, about staying here. Her name is Sigrun Gard. She is a Valkyrie, and she is a good person.”
Perhaps person wasn’t the most appropriate descriptor for a Valkyrie, but what else could he do?
“You said you were new here,” he said after a moment. “How new is new?” He was merely curious. He was trying to make conversation.
"Couple weeks. A cycle of the moon for definite. I don't keep track. Time only matters if you got somewhere to be or someone counting on you."
Riddick studied the woman Wednesday had pointed out. She wasn't as hardy looking as his Valkyrie. He wondered if they weren't from the same planet. It could be she was from a different breed of Valkyrie. Riddick had gotten the impression the Valkyrie moved around the universe as freely as any other space-faring people; plenty of species had settlements in more than one location with each one differing from the others in subtle yet distinct ways.
"I know a Valkyrie. Mine seems more sturdy than that one. She from a different planet than Asgard?"
There weren't nearly enough warrior women in the universe for Riddick's tastes. He hoped there were several settlements of Valkyrie. It made the universe seem like less of a fucking waste. Wednesday had a feeling to him of curiosity matched with experience or maybe it was just age. Riddick had nearly as much experience with the old as he had with the very young.
“I have lost track of how long I have been here,” he admitted. “It was sometime in 2018, I am sure of that much. But not quite a year.”
He remained silent for a moment, as Riddick considered Sigrun. He nodded a bit in response to the man’s question. “Sigrun and Valkyrie are both valkyries, but I believe they are from different worlds.” And both answered to Wednesday, despite him being from yet a different world. Not that he really held them to their oaths here. Madison Valley was different from all of their worlds, and different rules were applied here.
“She has my ravens. Sigrun, not Valkyrie.” While the ravens were technically Wednesday’s, he allowed them to stay with Sigrun. They had arrived before Wednesday had, so he felt it was only proper to leave them with the valkyrie.
“If you are aware of Asgard, you should meet Lady Sif. She is a warrior from that world. The same world as Valkyrie.” He hadn’t met Sif personally, not this version of Sif. But he was aware of her presence in town. He respected her, as well as Sigrun and Valkyrie.
Ravens were familiar to Riddick. Birds of all kinds existed throughout the universe; he'd always been better with animals than people. Beasts didn't pretend to be something they weren't. Their instincts drove them and instincts could be understood a fuck of a lot easier than the machinations of the human mind.
People could be fucking assholes sometimes.
"Never heard of Lady Sif. I'm not so sure she'd want to meet me if she's used to people calling her 'Lady.' I'm not the best when it comes to manners."
Riddick had many skills: cordiality wasn't one of them.
"Almost a year in this place," he considered, "No. I keep trying to imagine it and can't. I never been anywhere more than a few months. Sometimes because I chose to leave, sometimes because the place stopped being friendly, sometimes because it was either bug out or die."
Riddick shrugged. He didn't have any particular attachment to any place he'd ever been. His home world had been destroyed before he could hold his head up on his own. There were no memories of Furya in his mind. Anyone who might have helped Riddick try to make a home for himself had either abandoned him or died. He had no real attachments to anyone to go alongside his lack of attachment to a place.
"You got a home you're missing? People?"
“Oh, I am certain she prefers to not be called Lady,” he said after a moment. “I am just accustomed to referring to her as such. But I am certain just Sif would do.” Sif didn’t seem like the type to insist that people call her Lady. She seemed to be the type to insist that people didn’t call her Lady.
He nodded a bit, “I am not usually one to stay in one place for any length of time. I like to roam, travel from place to place. It’s strange, being stuck here and unable to leave.” He wasn’t used to not being able to go where he wanted, when he wanted. He wanted to be able to leave and go wherever he wanted.
Wednesday shook his head, “There isn’t a particular home I’m missing. And I have Shadow here in town, so it makes things so much easier.” He wasn’t certain if Riddick would know Shadow. He didn’t expect people to know everyone in town.
“What about you? Do you have anyone or anyplace you’re missing, from home?”
"You're the polite type? That it?"
Riddick snorted. He understood the concept of manners a lot more than the actuality of them. Etiquette had never mattered much in the face of pure survival. There were too many skills to learn to keep him alive for him to worry over what fork to use or when it was appropriate to call someone 'Lady' or 'Sir.'
Shadow was someone he knew. Riddick gave a slight smile as he realized they had a friend in common. It stood to reason as Madison Valley could only be so large given it was restricted under a dome. They were bound to have run into the same people from time to time; it was unlikely they would have encountered the same people without forming at least some similar contacts.
"Shadow I know. He's working on a place he's calling Combat Therapy. I'm going to help with construction. He's got a tract here on The Settlement. Have you seen his plans? Got a fucking lot of 'em. Not so sure they're all gonna work out. Figure at least I'm helping. Better than sitting on my ass, waiting for something to change. I got no one. Anywhere. Working with Shadow here? It gives me someone somewhere. That's good for me."
Wednesday laughed softly at Riddick’s question. “I am polite when it suits me,” he told the man. “I tend to do things that benefit me the most. And referring to Sif as Lady Sif is just… something I have become accustomed to. In my world, she was married to my son. Thor.” He decided to specify which son he was speaking of because he had many sons. Or, at least, more than one.
“Shadow is a friend of mine from home. He was hired to be my bodyguard. He’s… he’s also my son.” See, there you go. Another son of Wednesday’s. “And I fully support his endeavor with Combat Therapy. I will do whatever it takes to ensure he is successful in his venture.”
He nodded a bit at the next words that came from Riddick, “Shadow is a good person to have in your life. He’s a good man in general. Of course, I might be a bit partial. But I like to think I don’t surround myself with people who aren’t good people.”
The fact that Shadow was his son didn’t skew his view of the man. He liked to think that he was able to perceive people appropriately. That he was able to not let his bias get the better of him.
Fathers and mothers were as foreign a concept to Riddick as free-ranging babies and wild roaming grey hairs. He tried to reconcile Wednesday as Shadow's father in his mind only to fail to be able to connect the two together. There were too many differences between them for Riddick to be able to draw a line straight from one to the other. It was also strange because Shadow was a man grown and Wednesday seemed older but hardly old enough to have grown sons.
"You don't seem old enough to have grown sons. Seems strange to think of any grown men having living fathers. Thor and Shadow your only boys? Or you got a big family out in the wilds of the universe?"
At this stage, Riddick could believe anything. He had met all sorts in Madison Valley; all his encounters seemed determined to outdo the ones which had come before. He took some pleasure in it as it kept things from getting monotonous. The last thing he wanted was to be trapped in the domed city with no source of entertainment. It was already the worst slam he'd ever been in. Take away his few sources of amusement? How was that going to be reasonable?
Riddick would wind up going feral before a week passed.
"I got no family anywhere. Not any I'm aware of at least. A brother or sister would mean they'd missed the genocide of our people. Either of my parents would mean they'd thrown me away and went on living their lives as if they'd done no wrong. Not so sure I want to find any family given the facts."
“I have a son named Loki as well, but he’s adopted.” He claimed Loki as his own, though, for the most part. He had adopted Loki, yes, but that didn’t mean that Wednesday didn’t consider him to be anything other than his son. “I am older than I look. I have been around for years.” He paused for a moment, considering what he could tell the man. He seemed to be the type of man who could believe Wednesday without question.
Not that he believed Riddick to be gullible. Quite the opposite, actually. He just had this feeling about the man. A feeling that maybe what Wednesday had to say would be believed.
“I am also called Odin,” he started. “I am a Norse god. I have been around for centuries, in various forms. Which is why I may appear to be old, but not as old as I actually am.” He understood that he appeared to be an older man, but he also knew that he couldn’t possibly look as old as he actually was.
He wasn’t completely certain his words would be believed, but he was fairly certain. “Shadow can confirm this. He is aware of who I am. And Shadow is as old as he looks, as far as I’m aware.”
"I wasn't aware there were multiple openings for the role of 'God', but sure, why not?"
Riddick believed in God. The fucker was a sadistic piece of work he'd love to take out someday. He didn't care if Wednesday was interested in being called Odin, Wednesday, or Old Man. He rolled with what he was given to work with and that was how he stayed alive while the universe was set on killing him.
Smirking, he shook his head, "I like the idea God is into adopting wayward sons. My time for that kind of salvation has passed, but there are plenty others out there who could use a father since their own proved lacking. What makes you want to come down here to associate with us little people?"
God was meant to be kept apart from Man, wasn't He? There were worshipers who preached all sorts of ways to see or find God; Riddick had dismissed most of them though he always listened for the basic understanding of their faith. It was safer for him if he knew what would set zealots off and what could be used to wrangle them into a useful spot for himself.
If Shadow was Wednesday's son, did that make him God, too?
"Hey, is Shadow supposed to be God, too? How's that work out? If you're God, he's your son, doesn't that mean he's more than some regular guy? Does he have powers and shit? Godlike abilities?"
Riddick wasn't sure what would constitute godlike abilities, but he liked the idea of finding out enough to ask.
“There are many different religions,” he offered, after a moment’s consideration. “Various religions believe in different gods. There are religions that believe there is only one true God, while there are others who believe that there are multiple gods. It all depends on which religion you believe in.”
Wednesday wasn’t one to judge someone by which religion they believed in. He understood that the Norse gods were believed to be false gods in this day and age. He also understood that there were still people who believed in him and the rest of the Norse gods. It just depended on the person. He was starting a war against the new gods, yes. But the new gods like Technology, Media, and the like.
He just didn’t want to be forgotten. And it was starting to look like he was being forgotten, along with the other Old Gods. Bilquis, Odin, Mad Sweeney. They were all being forgotten, and that’s why Wednesday was waging war against the New Gods.
Then, to answer Riddick’s question, “Shadow is a god. What abilities he has is up to him to figure out. It is up to Shadow to figure out what he is capable of doing. I can only guide him.” He could possibly do more than guide the man, yes. But he felt that Shadow would figure things out in his own time. He wasn’t necessarily hiding information from Shadow, but he wasn’t forthcoming with the information, either.
Bullshit sounded the same in any language.
"That's some fortune cookie bullshit there. I bet you drive that guy crazy sometimes."
Riddick couldn't stop smiling at the idea of listening to Wednesday and Shadow argue over vague conversations. He had never had parents which meant he wasn't certain he was right, but Riddick had heard enough conversations about fathers and sons to know it was likely the pair argued over knowledge. It didn't take a scholar to tell Wednesday was holding back. The question was why he was holding out on his son.
"Sometimes it's better to hold onto what you know. Sometimes it's best to share it. You sure you're letting Shadow figure things out himself because it's the right thing to do and not because it makes your life more entertaining?"
No one gave up anything for free. Families were supposed to share or give and take equally among their members. Something like that, right?
Riddick wondered if he was supposed to treat Wednesday and Shadow different as he knew they were gods living among men. It didn't sound as if Wednesday was expecting worship from him, but what did he know about that either? All Riddick knew was how to approach what he was given in order to ensure his best chances of survival. Surviving didn't have shit to do with worship; Riddick wasn't interested in finding religion at this stage of his life.
“Why can’t it be both?” he asked with a smile. “I need some sort of entertainment in my life. But Shadow… he knows things he’s supposed to know, when he is supposed to know them. I answer any questions he may have. And I answer them honestly.” He might not answer the questions completely. But he did answer them. Shadow seemed to accept that, for the most part. Sure, he seemed to get aggravated at Wednesday from time to time. But he also seemed to know that Wednesday would answer his questions at the most opportune time.
He definitely didn’t expect Riddick to treat him (or Shadow) any differently with the knowledge of who the two actually were. He didn’t expect anyone to treat him differently once they learned he was Odin.
“I don’t suppose Shadow really knows who he is, at the moment. He doesn’t know how to process the information given him. He just recently learned who his father is. That I’m his father.”
"I suppose it can be both. Everybody should have some entertainment. Life's shit when it's boring."
Riddick was finding family relationships more interesting than ever in Madison Valley. There were fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, and even more complicated extended family entanglements all under the dome. He liked the idea the people of Madison Valley found comfort in their families, blood, chosen, or found. Riddick was trying to come to grips with his own beliefs on the concept of family.
It was possible he might have someone to label his in time.
Cocking a brow, he asked, "How was it for you? Did you know your old man was a god from the beginning? Or was your father a god, too? I'm still trying to figure the whole god-thing out. It seems as if there's more to it than declaring yourself the top of the food chain."
Power was what held Wednesday's shoulders straight. Shadow was comfortable in his own skin in a way Riddick understood from being a fighting animal himself. They were men who inhabited their bodies. God was supposed to be all about spirit or soul or something. How did that shake out when these guys were clearly as physical as Riddick himself?
"Do you turn into some kind of spirit or something? I thought God was supposed to be like a ghost."
“I… don’t recall my father,” he said, honestly. “So I cannot truthfully answer that question. I knew neither of my parents. I cannot honestly say that I actually have parents.” He was called the All Father for a reason, most likely. But he truthfully didn’t recall being raised by parents, so he couldn’t answer Riddick’s question about his father.
And yes, Wednesday and Shadow were both physical beings. They looked like men, they acted like men. If no one knew any better, they could pass as being men and not god-like.
“I do not turn into a spirit. And the God you are referring to… He created man in his image. So wouldn’t that make Him appear to be a man?” Sure, most people hadn’t actually seen the God that Riddick was referring to. That Wednesday knew of, anyway. “And I am not God, per say. I am one of many gods that the Norse believed in. There are more than one. Thor, Loki, Freya. Among others.”
He wasn’t completely certain he was explaining himself well. But hey, at least he was trying. “The Norse gods… they have a human form. Like myself, for example. We are able to move about men freely. Only those we deemed worthy were aware of who we truly were.”
Riddick gave a noncommittal sound at Wednesday's explanation. It was all the same to him. He did understand what it was to grow up without parents though he remembered being a child. Did Wednesday remember being a child? Or had he always been exactly as he appeared now? Gods were supposed to be immortal from all the talk Riddick remembered hearing.
"As I done told you, I got no memory of my parents either. I do remember being a child. Do you remember that or in all your memories are you the same as now? Do you age?"
Gods moving among men seemed stupid to Riddick as he couldn't imagine what a god could get out of mingling with humanity. Riddick hated humanity enough himself to want to avoid it at all costs; what the fuck was some all-powerful being doing volunteering to deal with the greedy, idiotic pigs humans were in almost all situations?
Stories about God having made Man in His image were ones Riddick had recollection of in his past. He knew that version of God better than the others. It seemed more likely to him there'd be more than one god the way Wednesday was presenting things. Wouldn't it be easier to believe there were many beings with power who had joined forces to create the universe than one entity which had done it all alone in a week?
"Hey, were you part of the group who created the universe or is that a different thing, too?"
“I do not age. I understand that I appear to be an older man, but this is just the form I choose to take. It’s the form I am most comfortable in.” He supposed it was because this form, that of an older man, commanded sort of a kind of respect. He demanded at least a little respect from most people. Though if he didn’t get the respect he wanted, it didn’t really bother him all that much. He understood that most people in this era didn’t believe in the gods of old. He couldn’t command respect from those who didn’t believe in him, now could he?
Another reason he chose to appear as an older man. Most people respected those who were older.
“It all depends on who you ask. The Norse believe one thing, Christians believe another, Jewish people believe yet another. But I am credited for the creation of the world by some religions.” He understood that different religions believed different things. He didn’t hold anyone’s beliefs against them.
Riddick refrained from pointing out he'd asked him -not random followers of the major world religions- by tightening his lips into a thin line. He wasn't sure he wanted to provoke a god even if the guy was being deliberately obtuse. There was a look to him which gave Riddick pause; it stood to reason he'd chosen the form he had because it did command attention and an air of respect.
Old men didn't grow old by being stupid or weak.
"I think I'll hold my opinion for later. You want to stretch your legs a little? Take a walk over to the food with me? I figure we can get something to eat or drink. I doubt you actually need either since you can't die, but what's life without the basic pleasures?"
Wednesday had sons, too. That meant he could fuck. Men who could fuck could always eat and drink. There was no way to fuel one appetite without at least a nod to the others. Besides, if he was a god, he ought to be able to do anything he liked including eat and drink to his heart's content. The food for the Beltane celebration was as plentiful as it was flavorful. Riddick liked the idea of breaking bread with Wednesday.
It would be a fun story to tell Valkyrie later: he shared the Beltane feast with a god. Who didn't think that was a fine way to celebrate a holiday?
Wednesday was neither stupid nor weak. He was being evasive, yes. But evasiveness didn’t equal stupidity or weakness. He knew exactly what he was doing. He generally knew how to answer a question without actually answering the question. It was something that drove his acquaintances mad. Unless they knew how to get him to be straightforward with them.
Shadow was one of the few people in Madison Valley he would be straightforward with, and even that took a bit of convincing. And asking the right questions.
“I thoroughly enjoy both food and drink,” he said. “And Sigrun ensures that we have the best of both, during these celebrations.” He really enjoyed most food and drink, but he enjoyed Sigrun’s the most. Torvi was a good cook as well, and Wednesday was certain that she had provided some of the food along with Sigrun.
So, at Riddick’s suggestion, he headed toward the area that had said food and drink. While no, he did not need to eat, he found that he liked eating. Good food was always welcome.