#Mr. Woden

[naptime23-7]

BACK AFTER FINISHING BOOK 3 YALL

god i forgot how much i adore the scene where Hiccup and Toothless reunite i love them so much. Toothless being so absolutely hyped that Hiccup came back for him but he's already shown Far Too Much Love for him and he has a reputation as a dragon to uphold here! so of course he must discharge this energy via Zoomies, specifically by racing all along Hiccup's torso because Woden Forbid he have two inches of distance away from him haha

we get to add a couple more chekov guns here! i'm not counting every time Alvin looks like he's gone for good. BUT i *am* counting the fact that in one of the portrait arts he has. the fucking gold arm-bracelet from book 5???????? Mrs Cowell you brilliant woman you've done it again. i.... cannot remember if i already counted the venomous vorpent. i'll count it just in case? cuz that whole thing is a major event that's intentionally brushed off in the moment. i think that makes 5 firing squad members so far, for anyone bothering to keep track besides me haha.

book 3 is kinda tough as far as the timeline goes? from last we left off, we had Httyd book 2 clocking in at about 2 weeks of time, but after that it's a bit hazy. Alvin, in his classic bitching-to-Hiccup bit he does every time he comes back, mentions that it took him 3 months to get out of the cavern. However, the narration also states that the events of httyd 2 happened "last year". So I'm going to assume it takes Alvin a *minimum* of 4 months to escape the cavern, get kicked out of the Outcasts, and con the Romans. Depending on if book 4 mentions anything timewise beyond "in the last episode", i'll specify any time stuff in following timelines. thankfully, we have a much more clear cut timeline for the actual story, somewhere between 2-3 weeks, based on information from character dialogue.

Httyd book 4 has 241 pages, continuing the trend that books 1-7 have of consistently being between 200-250 pages, give or take. more on observations of that later when i get to book 7. i remember this one being breakneck, and we're entering the trio of volumes that were my favorites as a kid before the other ones came out, volumes 4-6.

[kinfriday]

The Irregular Ascetic

In August, I briefly made a new friend on Tumblr.

His account has long since vanished for reasons I do not know. Maybe this place just didn't click for him. I've been here for years and always found it welcoming, but I know that, like everything, this site is not for everyone.

He'd send me a message, ask a question or two, and when I checked every week or so, I'd do my best to reply.

Then, one day, he was gone, but not before leaving me one last question:

"An ascetic heathen life? What does that look like to you? I want to see that visual."

And that's kind of the question, isn't it?

The thing about callings is that they aren't always clear-cut. I may feel drawn towards an ascetic heathen life, but it's not like my Gods sent me an Ikea flat-pack kit.

As seems to be the pattern with the Germanic deities, they tapped me on the shoulder and then said...

"Here ya go, figure it out."

And here we are. Forty-Two, with over ten years as a member of the Ár nDraíocht Féin (ADF), I haven't finished my dedicant path, nor started the clergy track.

I can't remember the last time I did a full ritual.

All in all, I seem like a pretty crappy monk, don't I?

Sister Snow Hare, indeed...

It seems that my vanishing friend pinned me to the wall. I've been chewing on this again, trying to work it out.

If you're reading this, buddy, know that you kicked off a lot of introspection about my path, and you inspired this long rambling Tumblr post.

The best place to start is the beginning. (A little free wisdom)

So, what exactly is monasticism?

Good ol’ Mr. Wikipedia defines it as "a religious way of life in which one renounces worldly pursuits to devote oneself fully to spiritual work."

No matter the faith, this is a feature of monastic life: asceticism, self-denial, and focus.

Have I mentioned I can't remember the last time I did a ritual yet?

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Nothing makes me feel guilty, like comparing myself to the standards and practices of others. Somewhere out there, a Buddhist is living on four grains of rice, meditating eighteen hours a day, stopping only to sleep. The five minutes a day he spends on Tumblr, he's laughing at me.

I just know it. >.>

You could say I've been feeling a little convicted about this.

Yet the calling is still there. My relationship with my Gods isn't just good; it's warm. While not formal or official, I have a fulfilling spiritual life that's not structured like anything in the faith org I faithfully send my twenty dollars a year to and then largely hide from.

So what's going on?

I've begun to realize slowly over the last year that my faith path will probably never be recognizable as anything routine, rote, or by the book, but what it will be is mine.

Where does my asceticism show?

Let me take you through a typical day.

Waking at 2300 (11 pm), I plank for three minutes, do about ten minutes of calisthenics, wash my face, and then meditate for twenty minutes to a half hour, offering that time to the Gods. Then, with that done, I recite my creed and head off to the gym.

I have a creed. I'm that fancy!

While I'm in the truck, I informally pray. Often, I'm talking to my Lady Eostre, but the other Gods definitely get included. Woden and I have always gotten along, and Thunor, I call big brother because he's always watching out for us and protecting us.

Now it's time for my hour minimum at the gym. Half an hour each of cardio and weight training. This is so I can be in good condition and proper shape.

Good health is important to me, but more on that in a moment.

When I get home, I clean for about an hour, something I call "service meditation." Scrubbing floors, cleaning counters, and sanitizing bathrooms is a gift I can give daily to my loved ones with whom I make a home. While I work, I reflect on them and consider all they give me.

After a much-needed shower, I'm in the office and might finally have breakfast. I eat, ascetically, often the same thing every day; I keep my calories low and usually take up a 16-hour fast between my last meal and first meal.

Everything gets weighed down to the gram and tracked on my calorie sheet.

Next comes editing, writing, often some informal online counseling, or time spent on networks like Counter Social, Telegram, and Discord trying to help people, even if it's only getting them to smile.

Hope is big for me because my Lady Eostre is the goddess of Spring and the Dawn. She is hope personified, a goddess of fresh chances and potential. Pointing back to her and her values is my purpose. It's what I was made for.

My day continues like that until I'm in bed at 1600 (4 PM), after an hour cool-down where I go through my creed and have one last conversation with the Gods. That's when I set out my fruit offerings if I happened to have any that day.

It's a hard and fast rule. The gods always get the best part of the banana and the strawberry.

This is the way.

My bed is a mat that rolls out on the floor. I started that in 2020, and I've never been happier or slept better, and when I travel, it comes with me.

And I travel a lot.

My family here calls it "missions." Every now and again, someone in my network will need help. They might be having surgery, a mental health crisis, or are moving cross town or cross country. Whatever the reason, the call goes out, and if I can make it work with money, I'll hop a plane, train, or bus and get out there.

Beyond the joy I get from being in shape and capable, this is why I work out. It's much easier to load and move boxes or help lift people when you're in decent physical condition. 

I actually have training as a CNA, so I know how to do all the transfer stuff, and I have decent experience in post-surgical care.  

I don't want to go into this part too much because it feels like bragging, but I've been all over the States and soon to be Canada just helping people. I ramble in, do what I can, then return home and take back up my discarded routine.

And this is my life, apart from writing my books. As I looked at it and began breaking it down, I realized that I am already living a disciplined ascetic life.  

My gods and my faith are at the forefront of what I do, but what defines my faith isn't the regular application of ritual, but action. Indeed, one of the sayings I live by is actions show what words claim.

So I'm not on a mountaintop, meditating with the sun's rising and setting, or dwelling within a monastery, cloistered from the world, living to sing hymns. There is beauty in that kind of asceticism, but it's not my asceticism.

Yet, we do have things in common.

My life is one of service, with a focus on the divine and the advancement of their aims for the world. It is my hope (there's that word again) that I can show the wisdom and cunning of Woden, the strength of Thunor, the honor of Tyr, and most of all, embody the hope of the Dawn in all I do.

Of course, I'm not perfect, and Saturdays are often waffle day, but life is about growth, not static metrics.

It's dawning on me that I may never be fully recognized in my path. I don't seem to jive well with organizations and dogmatic structures. I may never have Reverend by my name or "Sister" formally. When it's time to go, I may not even leave much behind save my books and these Tumblr posts.

When I do cross that far horizon, and I am again before my Lady, I hope she will look back on all I did during this strange human odyssey and see that while I may have been taken from her for a time, I never stopped being her devoted one, her servant, and that is all the formal recognition I will ever need.

For me, an ascetic heathen life is one of actions, denial, and service, which I seek to live every day.

[nebbychan]

Consider this to be a re-do for Kiya and Palethorn. Kiya, I felt like she needed a proper sheet while Palethorn could’ve done with a complete redesign.

If Mander can be a salamander (a suggestion from a good friend of mine, @evajellion), Dogman’s a bulldog, the Count is a bat, and Zarok is a snake, why couldn’t Palethorn look more like a goat?

Other Character Designs

Kiya and Palethorn (Version 1.0)

The Spiv and Madame Jo-Jo

Professor Hamilton Kift

Winston Chapelmount and Al-Zalam

The Count and the Vampire Girl

Mander and Dogman

Zarok and Lord Kardok

Mr. Organ and the Ghost Ship Captain

The Pumpkin Witch and the Forest Witch

Hall of Heroes

Imanzi Shongama and Prince Ravenhooves

Stanyer Iron Hewer and Megwynne Stormbinder

Dirk Steadfast and Karl Sturnguard

Bloodmonath Skull Cleaver and Woden the Mighty

Canny Tim and Sir Daniel Fortesque

[fruityyamenrunner]

regarding genuine runic magic, I don't know of any source that indicates clearly that any of the individual runes were regarding as having power in themselves. they simply seemed to have been used simply as a writing system to write down spells, presumably making them more lasting than had they just been spoken, just like the Ægyptians did with their similarly later-mystified script.

hell of a way for mr woden to learn his letters

[wyrmfedgrave]

Pics: Racism rears its ugly head - again!

1. This sounds like a great introduction to the Lovecraftian Multiverse¹!! But, I've yet to read it...

2. Spanish version of "HPL: Creator of Imaginary Worlds." Another entry for my reading wishlist!

3. A more evil looking Howard I've yet to see!!

Brr...

You just expect something to happen - right now!

4. Ahh... An anthology under the sure hand of R.M. Price, creator & editor of the great & highly missed "Crypt of Cthulhu"!!

When will its stars be set right?!!

And, let's not forget Bloch's preface. If the writer of "Psycho" introduces HPL's stories, you know he's got something important to say...

1912: "The Creation of N_s!" Part 1 -

Intro: From the only (Jellygraphed) copy ever found. "Creation" is in an unknown hand but, is accepted as accurate.

A very racist poem - that's thankfully short.

Readers need to approach such works (no matter who they're from) with a measure of both, self-awareness & life experience.

Real life must confront racial hatreds. Such personal slights need to be commented upon, for all of us to truly understand it's larger impact.

Perhaps in the form of a disclaimer webpage, containing detailed back- ground info, critical opinions, etc.

This could be used by all publishers to introduce readers to HPL's hard-luck life & his gloomy beliefs - whether they're real & imagined...

Plot: Opens with the Roman Gods creating the Earth & goes straight down from there.

"Jove²" serves as the "image of (white?) Men."

Then, "beasts (are) designed." But, "they (are) too remote³ from human- kind."

So, "a beast they (made) in semi-human (shape)⁴."

Finally, the Gods "filled (them) with vice⁵ & called (them⁶) N_s⁷."

Notes:

1. I'm not just talking about HPL's Dreamworld. Mythos tales, have been added to by many different souls.

In time, this collage of worlds has grown into a true pan-dimensional multiverse. One that touches upon prose & verse. Plus, video games, RPGs, movies, etc...

But, even in Lovecraft's time, he & his friends wrote of creatures from un- imaginably 'other' dimensions. Places that birthed Cthulhu, Azathoth, etc...

And, with any luck, I'll be added to - far into our future.

2. The mythical name Jove is actually a short version of Jupiter, King of the Roman Gods.

He was a sky God who used thunder bolts as his main weapon!

It's kind of strange that Howard didn't use a Saxon God but, went with the main Roman one.

But then, HPL did enjoy Greco- Roman myths (among others) when he was a decade & a half younger.

Still, Lovecraft should gone with Woden (Odin) or Thunor (Thor)...

3. The beasts were all remote - but, for what reason?

Howard was very picky in his word choices.

So, "being at a far distance in time & space" doesn't really work here. And it has nothing to do with "remote baths."

With HPL in mind, the best definition has got to be "not closely related."

Lovecraft was always concerned about status, class & hierarchies.

4. Now, the amateur name calling starts. African-Americans are compared to "beasts", which have "semi-human shapes."

Yes, Mr. Howard. We're all nothing more than beasts. That much has already been proven.

We're not made of any thing that's actually unique - just more meat bags!

And, we share the shape of all other humanoids. Which includes chimps & great apes.

All animals, plants, etc are at the 'peak' of their evolution - to survive in the world that we're changing, ever so quickly.

Yet, evolution continues ever on. As the world heats up, many animals will perish.

And, there's always those few that can adapt to survive or which will be over- looked in the rush to extinction.

Now, back to the true difference between men & animals.

We only differ from other animals, in what we can do with our brains. But, even there, smart birds & animals are rapidly catching up to us!!

Sadly, we tend to forget that evolution is still hard at work...

5. Only a bigot could blind himself to the fact that everyone is capable of having vices & worse. Nobody's fully 'immune'...

Also, if the Gods Filled them with that much vice, African-Americans were being set up to fail!!

It's amazing that we haven't destroyed our own selves already...

6. Actually, HPL wrote "it" - just more denigration on his part.

7. Use of the N-Word still hurts people today. And, false ideas have actually increased, til they now bombard us continuously!

We have yet to escape from this kind of racial hatred & venomous thoughts.

But, at least, some of us haven't given up fighting for the truth...

Continued in Part 2.

[datodinicshit]

Did Someone Say Witch Daddy?

All photos free for use from pixabay.com.

[pearlescentbirdmom]

Odin: Is it a Piss Everyone Off Day?

Me: You know actually, I think it is.

Loki: Have fun!

[datodinicshit]

In my experience I have picked up on 5 flavors of Odin so far. They include:

Desperado: Think cowboy gangster. Like more yee-haw mafia vibes less evil country lawyer. Dresses well. Card shark. More money than god. White and cream suits and hats. Gold jewelry.

Tricky Twink: This one is rare. Sassy af. Looks like a brisk wind could knock him over. Could kill you with a spoon. Skinny jeans and hoodies. Shady as hell one minute cotton, candy fluff the next. Will steal your snacks and maybe your wallet.

Stoner King Dude: This one is around the most. Fun and laid back. Sarcastic as hell. Slow smiles. Unexpected advice that's short and precise. Chills in the corner and watches shit unfold.

Trench Coat Man/Mr. Woden: He comes in dreams. Black trench coat and crumpled hat. Gray beard. Cold and coarse, like black coffee forgotten on the table. Will hit you with a clue-by-four upside the head. Feels like a thunderstorm rolling in.

Goth Daddy: This is a shared aspect I discovered with another friend. @aro-killcommander-eve Punk rock. All that black leather fashion. God of suspension bondage as others @cargopantsman have dubbed this side of him.

[pearlescentbirdmom]

Ok, so I was doing some fucking around with the Multi Face Blender app because I'm looking for writing inspiration and character visualization help. Well. Look what I did.

1. Mads Mikkelsen + Ian Mcshane

2. Robert Downey Jr. + Ian Mcshane

3. Those two blends put together

4. And then darkened a bit for aesthetic to make the Perfect Winning Amalgamation of features!

It's a bit Mikkelsen heavy in features, but eh, I see no problem with that.

[datodinicshit]

Biker Odin made with free for use photos from unsplash.com for @intheseliminalspaces (click for higher quality.)

[pearlescentbirdmom]

*listening to billie eilish and having odin feels on main*

[moonyiswriting]

Moody.

This is part of the story that’ll probably never see the light. But anyways, some fluff was needed. Also, this was fun to write. :)

During a pretty awful summer week, in which Sirius was in and off missions for the Order, Alastor Moody showed up at the Lupin-Black’s household. When they still owned their small London flat.

He came to collect some papers Lupin gather before he retired. Especifically about a certain pack in the north they had been paying close attention. Hopefully, soon to be allies.

He didn’t like London, less this time of the year. He waited before the woden door, impatient. Until it finally open.

Standing before him was a very tired out young man, with a rosy cheek baby in his arms. She looked about to cry, he hoped she didn’t.

“Oh, morning Alastor,” he said, waiting at least to get a cordial greeting from the other man, but Moody look at him expectantly. It took Remus a shameful few seconds to realise his mistake, “Oh, bugger. Almost forgot.”

He quickly took his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at Moody, “Where was my first mission?”

“Debirshire.” The oldest man grunted, “Lupin you know the rules. This are no times to let your guard down. Constant vigilance, for Merlin’s sake!” Remus looked baffled, “More so with a kid around!”

“Yes, sir. My bad,” He moved aside, letting Alastor Moody walk inside the flat. Remus rapidly close the door behind and then gather a few things before running away, “Get yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back!”

Both, baby and Lupin, disappeared through the hallway.

Alastor took a glance around the room, inspecting the place, before sitting in the couch. There were many books laying around, a few discs ready to be set, a variety of plants standing by window and—many, many baby stuff, almost anywhere you see. Definitely the home of a young family.

From the next room he could hear the baby whining and her young parent trying to calm her, without much success.

After a couple of minutes, Remus reasurface from the kitchen, baby with a bottle, quickly drinking it’s content.

“Now, tell me again. What papers does Professor Dumbledore exactly needs?”

“From your last mission, about the packs at the north. Newcastle. That bit of information might be crucial Mr. Lupin,” he said, lowering his voice and adding, “there’s been recent reports that say a few packs had been working separate from Greyback, a rebellion perhaps. But we’re not certain. We have to gather as much information about it’s members before doing anything, and those papers of yours might have what we need.” Remus eyes grew big, even in his stupor he didn’t stop bouncing the little girl in his arms, who was completely focus on the task before her.

“Bloody Merlin,” he glance down at the his daughter, a million thought cross his mind in that minute, but Libra paid him no mind. Once she finished her bottle, her whole attention was focus on Moody, exactly on his disturbing moving eye. “I’ll go get them I—“ he stand, but then realise a tiny little detail. His eyes went from Moody to his baby,

“Would you mind? I’ll be right back.”

Without any further warning, Remus placed the baby on a very stunned Alastor Moody’s lap. The boy left without giving the old man a chance to protest.

Moody took a look at the baby. She did resemble quite a lot of her parents, brown eyes and black hair, but still, at his eyes, she was pretty much like any other baby he’d encounter before. Nothing at all special.

He was no babysitter, he thought grimly, and also quite offended.

Little did he knew, the baby in his arms was not only magical by blood.

It took Remus a bit more than expected (bloody papers where nowhere to be found!). But once he gather what he needed, he felt an electric wave travel throughout his body. His effort might finally show some results.

Once he return to the living room area, he almost drop those important papers out of pure shock (and quite a bit of amusement).

Moody was walking around the room, baby in his arms. He was whispering something to her (or more so grunting to her), and she looked completely fascinated by whatever he was saying. He’d never seen Moody act so calm… almost tender. Remus was stuck in his place, in complete disbelief, he was definitely writing Lily about this.

He broke up the moment by cleaning his throat, catching Mister-Constant-Vigilance unaware of his presence. Moody didn’t waste any more time.

He took the papers and gave back the little girl. He look at them briefly before quickly leaving, muttering a low ‘Goodbye’ on his way out.

Once gone, Remus and Libra shared a look, startled. Or at least, Remus felt like that.

“What have you done to him?” He chuckle, “How did you manage to do that? Blimey…” He tickled her tummy and she giggle in response, “My, my— you truly amaze me sometimes, Libra.” He kissed her cheek soundly and the baby kept giggling, unaware of what happened.

…

It was no surprise that the following year, when Libra turned one, they find a little box address to her. It contained a teddy bear with a red ribbon, and a hand written note that said,

For the little one. -A.M.

[jurakan]

Well, now I have to know about the English white supremacists who believe the 80s TV prophecy.

TIL?

Alright strap in because this is going to be wild.

[Mr. Beaver voice] There is a prophecy:

“In the days of the Lion, spawned of the Devil’s brood, the Hooded Man shall come to the forest. There he will meet Herne the Hunter, Lord of the Trees, to be his son and do his bidding. The Powers of Light and Darkness shall be strong within him. And the guilty shall tremble.”

This prophecy was once posted on the website for Woden’s Folk, a group of neopagan English nationalists who are super into Anglo-Saxon “heritage” and “paganism.” Their leader put this on the website, saying it was “the Prophecy of Gildas” that was about Robin Hood, or something? But that it was also about taking power and driving out the people corrupting England? Or the world? Who, these people being white supremacists, I imagine they take the whole “Powers of Light and Darkness” a bit more literally than should make any rational person comfortable. Maybe “days of the lion” means “Osama bin Ladin” or something??? Somehow???? 

Look man I don’t get these whackos.

There are some problems with this, of course:

ONE: Gildas was a real person, 6th century, and he wasn’t Saxon. He was Briton, I think? And he was a monk. He’s regarded as a saint by some, but I don’t know if he’s actually canonized or not. So maybe not the best person for a Saxon neopagan prophecy.  In any case, we have a lot of his writings available, and this ain’t one of them.

TWO: While Herne the Hunter is a popular figure in neopaganism, often connected to Celtic beliefs and the Celtic god Cernunnos, the oldest reference we have of him is Shakespeare in The Merry Wives of Windsor in which he’s some kind of ghost. The assertion that he’s actually an ancient god is one of those things that people kind of grabbed and ran with despite no basis in literature, mythology, or anything really. I don’t mind it in fantasy fiction because a guy with antlers is cool and all, but let’s not pretend it’s from mythology.

THREE: This “prophecy” is copied and pasted from BBC’s Robin of Sherwood. It was invented for that show. By all accounts that show sounds cool, and not racist at all, a combination of Robin Hood and Celtic mysticism for a cool historical action series. I haven’t seen it though. But someone apparently decided to take that quote and try to pass it off as mystic Celtic-Saxon mumbo jumbo that made him feel cool?

To be fair, people do it with the “Lo do I see my father” prayer invented for 13th Warrior all the time.

[Going and researching that quote is what led me to the rabbit hole that got me to THIS fun fact!]

The supremacist douchebag who shared this was told that this came from an 80′s show and tried to pass it off as “the show’s fiction but the prophecy isn’t/the show’s writers were divinely inspired/they tapped into the truth of the thing.” But look, man, it’s pretty obvious that someone decided to try to live out their Robin Hood fanfiction in the worst way possible.

The whole thing is in more detail and better explained here.

White supremacists are insane, is what I’m getting at here. Just imagine, if you would, that in fifteen years you found out that there was an extremist group quoting and posting a quotation that turned out to be from like, NBC’s Grimm or HBO’s Carnivale and that’s the kind of crazy we’re talking about.

That’s what you learned today.

[kainissoable]

A little Danny Tim ficlet spawned from noticing that the table in the Hall of heroes has Dan’s name carved into it twice (plus several beer stains)

*

“Finally writing up that crossbow treatise, are you?” Woden asked, grabbing the parchment out from under Tim’s fingers before he could answer. “I always considered ranged weapons to be a coward’s weapon, but I can’t deny your inventiveness- ow!”

“Give that back, you oaf.” Tim tried to snatch the parchment back, but Woden held it up out of his reach.

“Anyone would think there’s something in here you didn’t want people to see.” Woden squinted at Tim’s handwriting while the archer tried unsuccessfully to stop him. “Let’s see… and see that thee wode be of good yarrow for to hold magic rite well. Make not the trigger and fastenings of steel or iron for magic flees such metals. Instead seek ye out a- What’s this in the margin?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Now drop it!”

“Nothing? So Sir Daniel and Mr Timothy Fortesque written in a little heart is ‘nothing’ now, is it? I never did understand what you saw in that braggart, especially now he’s shown his true colours to be yellow- nngh.”

Tim’s foot met Woden’s groin, and the man collapsed slowly, dropping the page to clutch at something far more personal.

“Let that be a lesson to you.” Tim picked it up and left with what dignity he still had. “God, I need a drink,” he muttered.

[roninart-tactical]

Just watched the first episode of American Gods and wow it was amazing. I was wondering how they were going to translate the book to film and so far perfectly, I especially like Mr. Wednesday. Looking forward to episode 2.

[vaterslain]

Odin has so many names and a bunch of them are also aliases he uses for disguises. On this blog, I’ll use a few of them+modern re imaginings of some as names he’ll give to muses he meets. This list may be expanded upon.

Greybeard -- English form of Hárbarðr

Grim -- Short for Grímnir, related to the same modern English word

Mr. Bailey -- wordplay of Báleygr, which means flaming or shifty eyed.

Hans Guntram -- Hans is very loose wordplay for any of his “hanged” pseudonyms. Guntram means “war raven”.

Abraham Trinity-- Abraham means “father of many”. Trinity is a spin on another pseudonym of his: Third. 

Nicholas Wednesday -- Nicholas means “victory of the people”. The day of the week comes from his Germanic/Old English name, Woden

Gearalt O’ Byrne-- “Ruler of the spear” and “descendant of raven” respectively in Irish

Gandalf -- the name of a dwarf in the myths, but the stereotypical image of a bearded wizard in a wide-brimmed hat and cloak carrying a staff is partially attributed to Odin. He saves using this name for shits and giggles.