#Hel giving him an impossible task to complete just so she could watch him struggle was so iconic of her tho

[snakesandstone]

Oh to have even a tenth of the self-confidence Odin had when he decided to ask the objectively more powerful than him god of death who he took from her family and threw into niflheim as a child to bring his son back from the dead, offered nothing in return and sent one of his most irrelevant sons as a messenger boy instead of showing up in person

[morrigan-writings]

The God Father

Warning(s): none

A/N: Alright so this is a piece I wrote for an assignment a year ago, and I decided to go ahead and post it here because I was so happy with how it turned out (and I got an A!), and part of me wants to write some little blurbs that continue the concept.

Basically this is a fictional piece based on ACTUAL Norse mythology and NOT the Marvel versions. I got the idea for this off the writing prompt tumblr that was along the lines of "you write down Loki as your childs godparent as a joke, but he actually takes it seriously". I loved it so I used it. Enjoy!

PS -- I realized later that it maybe wasn't 100% clear, but Astrid was adopted, hence why she's "old enough" to play tea party, maybe 6-7. Only a handful of days passes over the duration of this piece.

It was all a joke, really. A complete farce, a “good laugh.” At least, that’s what it was meant to be. The Ohlsons had just welcomed their daughter, Astrid, into their lives, and they had crossed all the T’s, dotted all the I’s, but one last question remained: who to appoint as the girl’s  godparent? Erika and Ingrid Ohlson immediately turned to their respective families of course, but almost every option was eventually decided against. Both grandparents were already far up in years; Erika’s parents already living with an in-home nurse, and Ingrid’s own father refusing to ever speak to her. Erika was an only child, so Ingrid’s brother was next to be scrutinized. However, despite being close in age, he still acted a child in a grown man’s body, making poor investments, partying all weekend with numerous friends, moving from girlfriend to girlfriend. Absolutely not someone able to take care of a child (much less himself), and immediately scratched off the list. 

Friends were next, but...... there weren’t many options. The two new mothers weren’t incredibly social people to begin with, and as such only had a select few friends. A few were married with several children already, and Ingrid insisted they not add the potentiality of another child to the mix. Their other friends ranged from being either unequipped to raise a child, too busy with their own specific line of work, or just not close enough to be considered for godparent. Options had now all but disappeared, and the two women had resigned to perhaps just skipping over this particular notion.

About a week later, during an evening of movies and a couple drinks after putting the young Astrid to bed, Erika began giggling to herself, the sound growing to full-on laughter which she hastily struggled to stifle in the small apartment so as not to wake the child. Ingrid, simultaneously confused and curious, glanced over at her wife, a single brow raised.

“What in the god’s names has got you so hysterical?”

Pulling in a gulp of air, Erika turned to Ingrid, tears in her eyes. “Listen, okay, what- what if...... hear me out here- what if we......we......” she could still barely speak from her incessant giggling.

“Dear, please, what is it?” Ingrid sighed, her curiosity starting to eat at her.

“Okay...... okay so......” the woman finally composing herself to a degree. “What if, for just absolute shits and giggles....... what if we named a Norse god as godparent? Like a literal GODparent? Just, what if. For the hell of it.”

Ingrid, the resident librarian of the house, blinked. “You want us....... to name an ancient, all-powerful, Norse god of old..... as our daughter’s godparent?”

“Ingrid, hun, look: we have literally no options at this point. Maybe eventually we’ll have a friend become a better candidate later in the years, and if so, we’ll write them down as godparent instead. But for now..... come on, it’d be funny and it’d be an absolute hoot to see the look on people’s faces when we bring this up,” Erika then smiled more deviously, “plus I know you can’t pass up a good pun.”

Giving a smile of her own, Ingrid sighed. “Alright fine, lets do it. Which god did you have in mind?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deep in a labyrinthine cave, hidden away from the known world, sat two ancient beings whose existence had all but been forgotten and reduced to mere myth. A restrained fire giant, face scarred, auburn hair now matted and lank, with a monstrously large serpent sat poised above his head. His wife, Sigyn, a goddess in her own right, yet often left out in stories even in the days of old, sat ever faithfully by his side, her own face gaunt, exhaustion and fortitude lining every inch of it. In her own scarred hands she held a bowl aloft as the only barrier between his face and the beast above as venom drip, drip, dripped into the small basin, the sound now akin to what the mortals refer to as a clock, the deity’s only semblance of time. 

The god had long since lost his unhinged anger for this life sentence, had since devolved into simply being..... exhausted with the ordeal. Relieved that his wife remained by his side, but also guilty that she stayed in such a horrid place with such a tiring task despite having no orders herself to be here. He had grown weary, maybe a touch apprehensive, with the smallest hint of boredom even. They had been stuck down here for centuries now. Or at least physically. The god found he maintained his ability to project an astral form of himself wherever he wished, and this is what he utilized to learn of the world through the long years. He only wished he could share this illusion of escape with his spouse.

As the centuries passed, he watched as humanity started to turn from the old ways, began to write off the gods as only myths and legend, not beings worth worshiping any longer for the most part. He watched as the rest of the gods slowly accepted this and drew back into their homes amongst Asgard and Valhalla and even Hel, only sitting back up to take notice if something truly important occurred on Midgard, but otherwise ignoring it, as they themselves were ignored. And why shouldn’t they? There was virtually no point otherwise anymore. But today........ today somehow felt different. The imprisoned god cracked open an eye as something seemed to shift in his awareness. Not...... worship, not really. But..... something new. Someone, somewhere, it seemed, was inscribing him as a guardian. To their child. And for supposedly no particular reason that he could even fathom. This was definitely new. The god began chuckling quietly before he could stop himself, the whole concept incredibly humorous. 

However, before he could share this new discovery, that dreaded time came again when that hatefully small bowl filled to the brim, and Sigyn sucked in a sharp breath as she suddenly flew into motion like clockwork. She rushed to pull the bowl away and dump the acidic liquid before too much harm was caused before she could return to her original post, but it was never fast enough, it was impossible to be. The second the obstruction disappeared, the snake’s venom began dripping onto the imprisoned god’s face, his eyes and cheekbones burning with each drop as if on fire, bellows of pain being loosed from his lungs all the while. His wife returned the bowl to its original position, frantic and remorseful apologies spilling from her lips as always, him waving them off with a shake of his head and a forced smile. Once resettling, Sigyn peered down at her husband with curiosity. 

“What was it that made you laugh so genuinely after so long?”

He smiled once again, remembering. “The gods may no longer be revered as they once were, but.... a fascinating development has occurred in the mortal realm: I have apparently been named as guardian to a young child, for whatever reason.”

The goddess raised her brow in surprise. “Guardian? I mean no offense, my love, but surely it must be in jest? And as you stated, we both know worship is no longer practiced on Midgard, so why this sudden change?”

“No, I agree, I find the whole matter quite amusing. However. Due to the absurdity and the rarity, on the chance that this is meant sincerely in any way, I feel inclined to follow it through.  I am named guardian, I am now bound to comply, I believe.”

A warm smile, the first he’d seen in decades, grew upon his wife’s face, as even her dulled eyes began to slowly light up again at the idea he presented. “Then by all means, you should go. All I ask is for you to bring me back stories of this child when you return.”

He returned the smile, the same genuine warmth mirrored back to her. Letting out a long exhale, the god settled back onto his rock best he could, closed his eyes, and cast out his consciousness to the mortal world, empowered by the promise of new mischief to come. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been only a couple days since Ingrid and Erika had filled out the paperwork to appoint their god of choice as the godparent to Astrid. As was anticipated, they were given a strange look from the clerk assisting them when he read the name. “A family friend,” Erika waved him off with a smile. The two new mothers had a good laugh on a the walk home that day, imagining all the potential hilarious scenarios in which to share this information.

Ingrid was playing tea party with Astrid as Erika was in the middle of cooking dinner when their doorbell rang. Intrigued as to who could possibly be visiting them at this time of night, Erika walked over and cracked the front door open, only just wide enough to see the person waiting outside. 

There in the hallway stood a man, nearly six and a half feet tall, with a lean build, and immaculately well groomed and dressed. A tailored suit was his attire of choice, a dark forest green, with gold buttons stamped with intricate designs, and cuff links that resembled a wolf’s head. His long, fiery red hair seemed to gleam faintly in the light as if metallic, the top half of it tied back out of his face, a couple small braids interspersed throughout. The man’s features were both fascinating and eerie, mostly made of sharp angles with smiling thin lips and darkened hazel eyes that almost seemed to flare gold (but it was probably just a trick of the lights). However, the only oddity about this figure was the scarring around said eyes, so faint you could only see it when the light hit his face just right, but still curious to see. 

While the strange man gave a tentative smile and made no move toward the open door, keeping his hands in his coat pockets, Erika had become confused into silence, trying to rapidly figure out just how to ask who the hell this man was in the politest way possible. Ingrid, also interested in who their late night visitor was, quietly came up behind her wife and peered past her shoulder to the figure outside. Ingrid, apparently, was quicker on the draw.

“Excuse me, but who are you? We weren’t expecting anyone this late, we’re in the middle of dinner.”

The stranger smiled knowingly, bowing his head slightly. He raised one hand up toward his face, snapping his fingers and causing a small flame to ignite above his index finger, pulling a gasp from one of the women.

“I do apologize for the late hour, unfortunately the concept of time has slowly left me over the years. But I am Loki of the Aesir, and I do believe I am young Astrid’s godfather.”

[thetexasurbanite-blog]

Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice Review

Have you ever played a game that completely changed your perspective on something? Alternatively, has a game ever given you perspective on something you previously had no experience in understanding?  This is the case with Ninja Theory’s Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice.

Many story and character-driven games do a decent job of re-inventing the typical hero’s journey archetype by adding in new ways to create conflict, which in-turn calls the hero/heroin to embark on a journey, resolve the conflict, and denouement with the positive or negative consequences. However, few stories in video games incorporate specific character traits to the hero/heroin that directly influence how the player experiences the story. Hellblade is a shining example of this, and I believe this approach to a truly immersive gaming experience not only promotes a new way to present a story, but it conveys a deeper message as well.

Story, Setting, and Characters

In Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice, you play as Senua, a Celtic warrior who quests to the land of the Northmen (essentially Vikings) to enter the mythological Norse land of the dead, Helheim. Senua wishes to free the soul of her companion Dillion from Hela, the evil creature said to guard the souls lost to Helheim. Although the quest seems treacherous enough along with the numerous battles awaiting her on her journey to Helheim, Senua’s greater struggle is her own internal conflict through psychosis (schizophrenia).

Psychosis is a condition where the victim hears voices in their head that are not theirs and sees things that are not there. In order to display this characteristic, players use headphones during gameplay so they may experience the binaural sound design (three-dimensional sound) to hear the voices that plague Senua. Throughout the game, the psychosis refers to the “darkness” Senua must face in order to succeed in her mission. These voices in Senua’s head end up being a proactive quasi-character within the gameplay. The voices consistently scream at her to turn back from dangerous situations or poke fun at her when they believe she is doomed to fail at an impossible task. This creates an effect that not only displays the constant confusion Senua faces from her condition, but also it incorporates the player into this world of confusion along with Senua. It creates the sense that you are never truly alone, even though Senua is the only living person seen throughout the entirety of the game.

The environment itself highlights the motif of loneliness further. The broad and barren landscapes of the Northmen create senses of dread and macabre that contribute to the fact that no human person is around to assist you while you traverse the land of the dead. It contrasts the voices in Senua’s head and the visions Senua sees when she experiences an episode because of her condition. Furthermore, the use of light and dark reflects on the emotional sense of hopelessness and fear the game continuously pours onto the player. Inside Senua’s head, it is pitch black with only the voices creating a din of confusion and discouragement to lead you through her episode.

In the meantime, you must defeat the Denizens of Hel. At the start of the game, Senua must unlock the gate that leads to Helheim. The gate will only unlock after both Surt (the Fire Giant) and Valravn (the God of Illusion) perish. Fortunately enough for Senua, which is rare for this game, she meets Druth near the beginning of her quest. Druth is the soul of an escaped slave of the Northmen. Because of her condition, Senua is able to commune with him and he becomes the well of exposition throughout the game. Druth helps guide you on your journey towards Surt and Valravn (and eventually Hela) as well as presents mythology of the Norse Gods to Senua through lorestones hidden within the game. I especially thought the addition of Druth to this game was genius design. Druth adds to what seems to be a fictional land of myth and fantasy by contributing non-fictional lore the Norse Vikings believed in and catalogued during their existence between the late eighth and early 11th century. Watch any of the “Thor” movies and you will understand what I’m talking about. I feel the addition of this detail was another way the game immerses the player by creating a sense of surrealism. You know the world you are playing in doesn’t exist, but the sprinkling-in of Norse facts and legend makes you question it. In the end, it makes you even more invested into the main story.

Gameplay and Themes

The gameplay is consistent with the previous features of the game design in its immersive quality. There is no HUD. There is no tutorial. Players have to quickly learn the fighting mechanics as the demons come from every direction starting from the first battle sequence. Multiple demons will attack you at the same time, so it’s important to learn how to use the third person perspective to your benefit. The right analog stick allows for Senua to focus her attention on a different attacker. In my opinion, these battle sequences are some of the most difficult parts of the game, even more so than the solo battles against Surt or Valravyn. Armed with only a sword, the battles can get quite overwhelming without a decent strategy, however, Senua is also equipped with a mirror designed to help her “focus.” When Senua focuses during a battle, she can slow down time in order to gain the upper hand on her opponents.

My only real nitpick of the game comes from this category. The demons themselves were a good reminder that Senua is in a hostile place, but some battles would be drawn out too long and needed several respawns in order to progress in the story. This had a tendency to take me out of the game’s immersive environment to where I could only focus on defeating a wave of demons (almost like a hoard of zombies who know how to fight). However, this is a minor frustration that really doesn’t take too much away from the gaming experience as a whole.

The game also slowly introduces a puzzle system to add more layers to the gameplay. In order to progress, you must search for ciphers and runes that unlock doors, or in other cases you must find the correct perspective to rebuild structures. The developers based this mechanic on the way Senua perceives reality. Perception is a common motif throughout the game as the line between what is real and what is not blurs exponentially as you near the end of the game. Each puzzle takes on new depth and meaning, and it is interesting to see how the puzzle mechanic explores the idea of perception.

The dark scenes in Hellblade are truly haunting and translate into equally dark themes. Senua has visions of her mother burning at the stake by the hand of her father. She sees the body of her dead companion strung up. Furthermore, the atmosphere of the world and the atmosphere within Senua’s head are meant to parallel one another as to symbolize each as hopeless. Dillion becomes her only scapegoat of hope. Her belief that she can overcome her “darkness” stems from the symbol of what Dillion represents. This idea ends up determining Senua’s fate, and its implementation in this game is why Hellblade has quickly become one of my personal all-time favorite gaming experiences.

Conclusion

Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice is a masterpiece because of what it represents. Not only does it push the envelope on what a story-driven game can be, but it also starts a conversation among people about mental health. Psychosis is a real disorder that real people have to deal with, and this game gives the player a front-row seat into the mind of people who are victims of this condition. The internal turmoil is just as threatening as the external. Although these events are specific to Senua and perhaps engineered to the extreme, the consequences are similar in more ways than one. I received perspective from this game, and it changed me as a person. I came away with a better understanding of those who suffer from mental illness.

Senua is a character who knows true suffering. However, in the midst of her constant suffering, she STILL has hope. The message of hope is symbolized through Dillion. This was Senua’s hope, and it is a reminder that, no matter what, we still cling to that tiny shred of hope amidst our darkness. And overall, this message was the center-piece for a game that is a prestigious example of atmosphere, story-telling, and immersive gameplay mechanics.

"A very dark yet powerful experience. Hellblade masterfully demonstrates fighting inner demons." https://t.co/h7Be9Ap2CH pic.twitter.com/doHlbNMOWR

[friedesgreatscythe]

#Hel giving him an impossible task to complete just so she could watch him struggle was so iconic of her tho

Oh to have even a tenth of the self-confidence Odin had when he decided to ask the objectively more powerful than him god of death who he took from her family and threw into niflheim as a child to bring his son back from the dead, offered nothing in return and sent one of his most irrelevant sons as a messenger boy instead of showing up in person