lack of luck

Odin watched Josen move away from him, accompanied by the female Celia, and allowed the other two to attach themselves to him affectionately. His human form was attractive, at times to a regrettable extent. In this instance he “played along” because it was a simpler course of action than any other… that appealed to him now, when his mind was occupied with separate thoughts.

Josen saw through his attempts at lies…almost all of them, in fact. He pondered this uncertainly as the yellow-haired member of the pair slid her arms around his waist and pressed a body of mostly bare skin against him. He evaded her touch almost disdainfully…his overly acute senses were throttled by her.

“Ohh, you aren’t the sort that’s usually shy, blue eyes,” she cooed. He identified a vast amount of wrinkles beneath a layer of paint that could use an immediate touch-up. This one must be…talented, so to speak, to reserve her position in this sort of establishment despite her years. If any one was shy, it was the less straightforward woman to his right, who was making a pathetic attempt at batting artificial eyelashes in his direction. He nearly took pity on her, but chose instead to identify an appropriate reaction to the demands that would soon be forthcoming from Josen.

He obviously needed to make a clearer attempt at concealing his dishonesty. Josen’s instincts, however powerful for one of his species, were nevertheless human instincts alone. He told himself this although he was beginning to feel the need to reassess his opinion of human instincts in and of themselves. Lately he had been unpleasantly impressed.

However, following his initial handful of slip-ups, he would have to allow the mercenary something. By no means the entire truth, but perhaps a portion of it. The thought was a grim one, but he recognized his necessity as he once again moved out of the far from subtle embrace of the wilting whore and her dark-eyed partner, just as the woman who had moved off with Josen conveniently summoned them from him.

He arched a brow at his companion as Josen returned to his side. At the man’s remark, he fought amusement. The human had provoked action in the establishment to stir up his friend…a wise plan, but like any other plan, it was far from foolproof. Odin was content to see it play out with out his interference, and therefore reluctantly allowed himself to be sent from the establishment by a few cocky muscles and small brains that could have used a swift lesson in the downfalls of excessive egotism.

“He is there, isn’t he?” Josen asked him. Odin saw no err in admitting his knowledge of the fact that this Ben person was, in fact, present in the building. He didn’t need to mentally track him again to know that. As they rounded the building’s exterior for the rear entrance, Odin bristled at a subtle tingle in the back of his neck. He stilled Josen with brief contact, and his suspicions were rewarded when a voice emerged from the dark.

Odin observed the pair’s interaction with contained interest. These were two strong souls of their breed, and he did not hesitate to admit occasional admiration for the relatively few respectable examples of humankind. Here were two, and he had managed to associate himself with one of them. The coming days, weeks, or whatever span it would be would be fascinating in that facet, anyway, even if it was that facet alone.

Odin found that it was more interesting to wonder what type of appointment this Ben man had then to look, and so he refrained, following Josen to the “next stop” in silence. Silence, that is, until the question that had been threatening suddenly fell. The request for honesty.

“What about me is it that you want to know?” Odin asked – unnecessarily, as Josen’s pointed look revealed. The shifter sighed in a way he hoped seemed human, because he’d been practicing sighs. They were more difficult than one would think.

“As you’ve stated, you don’t know me, or anything about me,” Odin said, straining the coldness from his tone and therefore depriving the words of their blatancy, leaving them as a statement of obvious fact. “And so, how can you state that I’ve nothing to lose nor gain?”

He doubted this response would suffice for long, but luckily for him there were a few irregular shadows amongst the others paving the alley they were walking through. He stiffened a moment later, despite himself, when he realized they weren’t human forms lurking close…in fact, they were forms he hadn’t had to experience in more years than he cared to count.

“Josen,” he said, voice low. The mercenary, however, had already been alerted to the fact that they weren’t alone. As two entirely human-looking goons stepped into the sparse light afforded by the mist-encircled moon overhead, Odin retreated into the shadows, in many physical ways.

It wasn’t quite as he remembered, but things changed in a thousand years. If the place was unchanged, his memories were, and understandably so. A young, floundering thing he’d been, and he had avoided obeying the basic laws of energy too many times. He had been frightened and arrogant and offended, the first time. This time he was confused as well.

What did I do?

He was in a dark place, because you weren’t supposed to know what this place looked like, and it was silent for a similar reason, but he felt the answer echo through him, beyond words, but translated in a sort of sixth-sense sensation as unimaginable to those who don’t have it as a rainbow would be to a child born blind.

You know.

If I did, I wouldn’t be asking, would I?

The sarcasm is unwelcome.

So is your infringement in my personal affairs. Haven’t we discussed this once before?

Silence. Listen.

Odin obeyed, generally because the familiar fright was creeping close around the edges of his mind. He was taunting a power that was greater than him. Greater than anything else he knew.

You play an important role now. Too important for your characteristic risk-taking. You must grow closer to these humans. You must depend upon them.

If Odin was human and in a physical place, his reaction to that would have been expressed in a grimace.

What does this mean?

You will be confined to the human form until your mission is complete.

Before Odin could respond to that with an expression of outrage, the implication was continued.

If any one of them is lost, the ability to shift will never again be yours.

What?! You can’t…

Of course I can.

Before Odin could object again, he was deposited back in the alley he’d left a moment before. The nonexistent shadows were gone, but had served their purpose as a momentary distraction during which Odin could be removed from this plane. He felt it, a terrible, crushing restraint. His shifting abilities were as unavailable to him as they had been when he was a clueless, passionately short-tempered youth. He wanted to scream, which was an urge he realized quickly, in a panicked way, was a good indication of just how unsettled he was. Rarely did a form’s instincts overcome his characteristic stoicism.

“They must have run away,” Odin managed. The restaurant was ahead, and he bent his head and walked toward it, almost hearing the clanking of his metaphorical shackles on his ankles as he walked.