Blót in the back

[hellomajortom]

The goats in the hotel had nearly sent Tom into a downward spiral. Especially, when Vars informed him, they were going to slaughter them in a bathtub and start a bonfire on one of the balconies. It had taken time for the ex-astronaut to discover what was going on. Apparently, the twins were somehow at fault for this by putting the idea of a full Blót into Aarne’s mind at some point. He wasn’t particularly surprised by that part though he was surprised that they thought they could get away with this without him finding out. Aarne’s innocent look when questioned about starting a fire had the Fin glancing at Viktor and Tom shaking his head. Of course, the Brit singer would be the one to start the fire.

Tom had eventually given up and decided the best course of action was to direct, rather than try to deter, the Scandinavians from the task they were set on. He put a hold on the whole outer patio, thankfully fenced in with a high privacy fence, with the hotel to be theirs, undisturbed for two days. The musicians knowing, they would have to clean the place and return it to the state it was when they rented it. It was the only way Tom could imagine keeping this in some kind of control. Controlled and directed chaos was what the Brit did best these days. He watched them clear out all the furniture and tables. Things were getting strange, at least to Tom. He kept hearing chanting and saw more knives than he knew the musicians were traveling with. He did know about the traditional instruments and was less surprised to see those.

Music was forgotten which was an odd thing on the tour, to the point Ziggy postponed two tour dates to later in the month. Everyone threw themselves into some part of it, at least all the Scandinavians, and they dragged along their non-Nordic partners. There was cooking and prepping. The three goats housed out in the patio were tended to like royalty, fed apples and groomed all day. Tom wasn’t sure what to make of all of this though he did set out to ensure there was a proper iron firepit. Maybe not proper to the Nordic traditions but one to keep the fire from spreading across the patio. All he needed was Viktor to throw something flammable in it and set the whole side of the hotel alite. He had seen Rik teaching some how to sing and then watched as Ollie and Torden took turns slowly hand carving a large wooden bowl. Tom had no idea what any of this was for, but his sweet tooth told him the food smelled amazing. Omenakakku and Æblekage, Finnish and Danish respectively, were the sweets he kept smelling that made his stomach rumble. Tom loved apple pie and just how this was described to him sounded even better.

He was fascinated and worried in equal measures. Worried the hotel was about to be set on fire. Not to mention having to pull a tight noose to keep unwanted press out of the way. Damien ended up on paparazzi patrol. It was well into the night when he saw Aarne in full face paint and some antlered headpiece. Tom knew that things were happening. He was curious, it outweighed all of his reservations. Tom had once been a very devout Christian, funny how nearly dying in space had changed that. His wife had changed his perspective even further. That spiritual void only fueled the curiosity.

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he stepped out on that patio, but it felt like he had walked on to a movie set or stepped into the past. Most of the Scandinavians had at least partial traditional gear on or something that blended the two like Var’s long punk leather jacket with the fur collar and studs, the huge wolf painted on the back obviously Fenrir. Even Tom knew that now when he saw the broken chain hanging off the shoulders. It was nice to see Rik on the harp again. The music was soothing but noticing the pile of axes and the wooden target Tom knew this would get rowdy as the night went on. There was a table laid out with sweets and vegetables, but the selection of knives caught his attention. He wondered if Rekker was around and wondered if someone should watch the Brit. Maybe the situation would keep his hands off the blades. The variety of apples was incomprehensible but he had heard talk of some goddess of youth and apples. At least the apples made sense and the whispers that Mikkel would lead this Blót. The youngest for a celebration of youth wasn’t a hard connection to make even if he didn’t have much understanding of the intricacies of the religions or this event.

He wasn’t expecting to see Dee all painted up with her hair in braids, apparently in charge of sharpening the knives. After some thought he remembered that she was some sort of pagan, Wiccan he thought or one of the modern branches. He noticed Aarne and Mikkel with the goats, singing to them. Why that seemed the strangest in this whole landscape of new situations, Tom couldn’t pinpoint, though he wasn’t surprised at all to see Thomas in the background wide eyed and watching. Thomas was obsessed with human culture, and this was a chance to see it firsthand. The Anthean would never pass that up.

The patio went silent all the sudden, in unison, and it startled Tom, as an outsider with no true understanding of what the night would entail. Tom looked around for what was happening but noticed that every eye was on the two with the goats. Mikkel was singing in Danish that Tom couldn’t understand. He had a good handle on Swedish but hadn’t even started Danish yet. However, he didn’t miss the knife being passed around nor the bowl of water out of which everyone was washing their face. He hesitated and glanced at Raev beside him, who was offering him the two items.

“Witness the sharpness and cleanse your face.” He instructed quietly. It wasn’t appropriate to talk, or that was what Tom gathered from the situation. He felt like a child where everyone else knew what they were doing, and he didn’t. Being the oldest in the group, aside from the Antheans, the role reversal put him ill at ease. The ex-astronaut was rarely in a place where he was completely clueless.

Tom took the knife and wondered what to do, he ran his thumb on the cutting edge just like he would test a kitchen knife. He had no idea if that was the right thing to do but no one said anything. He then splashed the water on his face and handed both things off to the next person. Tom was counting musicians and noticed everyone was around, including Ziggy and he swore he saw the twins in the hotel earlier. Isamu better be here if he was the one that started this trajectory.

The knife made its way to Aarne who spoke in Finnish to Mikkel, a language Tom knew even less about. Mikkel responded in Danish and then took the knife while Aarne picked up that wooden bowl that he had seen the Vestergaard brothers making the day before. The way he held it out and Mikkel squatted with the goat Tom knew what was coming. The knife cut like butter through the neck and the blood came flooding out, Aarne catching it in that bowl. The animal barely struggled or made a sound. The kill must have been clean, precise. All three goats were slaughtered in turn before Aarne stood and held the bowl of blood overhead. It sloshed and Tom watched it rain down on the white clothing Aarne and Mikkel wore.

Tom was staring and couldn’t blink. There were words coming in more than one language he didn’t understand. Viktor, Harald, and Vars being splashed with blood before Mikkel offered them the dead goats. A thought ran through his head about the young, feminine boy offering the sacrificed animals to the older, masculine, warriors of the group. He wondered about all the cultural meaning he was missing. Like a midnight mass, the movements were practiced and mechanical so they must have all meant something even if he was clueless. Tom felt like a play by play would have been helpful but he would have to make due with remembering and asking later. The goats were taken to a table beside the fire pit which was blazing hot enough he could feel the heat. Someone had to have stoked it up while he was transfixed on the goats. Tom watched with awe as Devon also joined the three with Dee and the animals were quickly cleaned and beheaded. He’d seen animals butchered before, but this was something else, parts separated out into piles for reasons he didn’t know. Tom only came around when something wet touched his face. He looked over to see the Dane and the Fin standing there. Mikkel’s red hand slipping from his face, and he could feel the cool wetness left behind.

Mikkel spoke in Danish and then Aarne repeated, or Tom thought he did anyway, the words in English. “Will you join us?”

For a moment he could only imagine he was about to be treated like some village elder. In this village of a tour, he was the elder and the leader even if everyone went their own ways on a personal level. Tom was stunned, not by the invitation but the drips of blood rolling over the white paint on Aarne’s cheek and the mess of red in Mikkel’s bleach white hair. The details felt overwhelming, but he found himself nodding and then jumped as blood was splattered on his face. It was still warm and caused him to step back. Glancing around he noticed he was the first to be anointed, was that even right but it did remind him of holy water in that midnight mass on his mind. The thought of being treated like a village elder came around again. His focus had been so driven down to one thing that he missed the fact that the Danes were singing. Rik on the harp and Ansgar on some war drum while Ollie and Raev sang. What they were singing was lost on the Brit who didn’t know the language though he did pick up a couple of god names, all Norse. It didn’t even sound like Danish. Maybe it was something else? Vars spoke Old Norse and Tom wondered if there was an Old Danish or some equivalent. Truth was he was well outside his area of expertise or experience. This coming from a man who had lived with aliens. Tom cracked a smile with that thought, interrupted by Aarne kissing his cheek before they went off to find others. He noticed the elder feeling had some merit when Hexed and Robert were the next approached. The oldest of the group.

Tom glanced at the spitted goats and realized that the intent of this was to go on until food was ready to share. Tom took a breath and decided he was going to need a drink to survive this. No mule though. He had seen enough people huddled in the bathroom from the Danish liquor. Maybe Hunter had some wine, surely he wouldn’t be caught at a party without it. Tom didn’t move from where he stood near the middle of the patio. His eyes were trying desperately to take this all in but there was simply too much. Tonight wasn’t going to be like any other experience. Another notch on his belt of strange things he’d lived through in his life.

Comments

[rage_rekker]

"I don't want to fight with you." Rekker growled as he snatched Bjorn's wrist and shoved him roughly against the wall. He's wound up from the blood and the injuries and the fighting. To have Bjorn show up right now drove him crazy as he pushed his bloody and scruffy face into the curve of the Swede's neck.

"I'll pin you down later." This was a lot for the Ginger who had a love for this kind of thing even if it wasn't socially acceptable, usually.

Viktor

[hellfire_andfury]

"I'm not missing out on the fun am I? Fuck that if I am."

Viktor was now walking towards Rekker and Vars, noticing the blood. Fuck! He wanted to get coated in blood because it looked tough. The ginger had been fighting and looked a mess. Vars and Damien were on their asses now and this meant that they had lost. Rekker was a tough bastard and Viktor respected that.

"Anyone going to splatter me in blood? Fucking badass that is."

The punk cracking his neck as he was shirtless wearing his ripped jeans with some heavy black studded boots.

Re: Viktor

[thrashdevil]

Damien was helping Vars up off the ground and thinking about getting some training from Rekker. The other two were faster but he was like steel when it came to waiting, watching and striking. That was something Damien wanted to learn.

Vars got up and immediately shoved Viktor, playfully for the punks.

Rekker motioned to get Dee's attention. The short punk coming over in her plaid skirt and nothing more, decorated in blood from the other girls. "Dee can."

The ginger was pushing his hair out of his face and from where it was sticking to the blood on his chest.

[hellfire_andfury]

The shove was welcome as Viktor grabbed hold of Vars to kiss him roughly on the lips while pulling on the short tufts of his hair. It was almost a dominant display and he didn't care who was watching them. Breaking off, he punched the Norwegian on the arm before turning to Rekker.

"Oh yeah? The girls have the blood? Want to paint me, love?"

Viktor now wanting Dee to splatter or coat him with blood because he wanted to be part of this celebration. This was Vars' history and that meant something to the Brit punk who loved every part of his rowdy Norwegian.

[midnight_devil]

Vars grabbed on to Viktor's hair and pulled him into that kiss. If the Brit wanted to fight for dominance Vars would put his ass in his place, especially tonight, though he had to admit Viktor looked sexy and would even more so after being pained.

Vars grabbed his ass and gave him a shove toward Dee. The small thrash bassist giggling a little. The punks were so rowdy and she got along so well with Vars.

"Come on." Dee motioned for him to join the other two girls, both topless and already painted. Gloria in what looked like the twisted swirls of DNA and Missy in whales and fish. "We'll get you decorated for fighting."

Dee had seen the axe throwing stuff and had watched the most recent knife fight too.

[hellfire_andfury]

Viktor was definitely in the mood for fighting tonight and dominance was high on the agenda. He wanted to wrestle with his Norwegian fiance covered in blood, getting bruised and scratched up. That sounded fucking romantic and hot as hell.

"I like the sound of this. Decorated for fighting so I can kick that ginger pussy's ass."

The Brit punk not caring who heard because he didn't like being humiliated by Rekker and his attitude. So what if the bloke was older and more experienced in fighting and martial arts. Viktor was a street fighter and had his own set of skills to bring to the table.

"Paint me, love. I want to scare the fucking crap out of anyone who wants to fight me."

Viktor smirking as he looked at Vars, shoving the other man lightly on the arm. Vars, he was special.

[midnight_devil]

Rekker definitely heard Viktor and broke his attention from Bjorn for a moment. The Brit was feeling incredibly aggressive, in part because the part of himself he constantly toned down was acceptable here.

"You come try, you cocky bitch." Rekker was laughing and as interested in stirring up a fight as he was to fuck Bjorn. "I'll bust your mouth again."

Dee shook her head giggling at the fighting and bickering. Vars just rolled his eyes and shoved Viktor back. He knew these two were going to go at each other. They both wanted to be the baddest ass in charge of the space and wouldn't back down. He did smile because it would be hot to watch his partner get into a knock down drag out fight that wouldn't be as dangerous as a bar brawl.

"You're not going to scare Rekker, no matter what I put on you." She commented once the Brit joined her. "I know a little about Norse."

She thought that Vars and Viktor might share the same religious leanings. "Maybe the symbols of Magni and Fenrir?"

She asked, sort of, but giving Viktor the symbols of strength and rebellion seemed appropriate enough. Vars came over to join Viktor while he was getting painted, tugging roughly on his hair before sitting near him.

[metallhuvud]

"No, you don't want to fight with me. You want to fuck me, babe."

Bjorn laughed and squealed as he was pinned to the wall. Fuck! The ginger was already wound up and the Swede knew it wouldn't be long until they would be exiting the party to fuck somewhere. But first it was time to get smashed on booze and be social.

"You'd fucking better, you grouchy asshole."

The trashy singer biting Rekker's earlobe and then raking his nails down the ginger's bloody crusted chest.

[rage_rekker]

"Always." Rekker growled shoving harder against his partner. Once Bjorn started touching Rekker he might find that the ginger has several cuts on his arms and chest, none too deep, but most of them bleeding. Drinking and fighting, especially drawing blood on him, already had his dominant side raging.

"Maybe I'll throw you down right here." Rekker growled out a gasp from those nails and bites. His hips pressing hard into Bjorn's while he grabbed his ass with one hand and a full handful of hair with the other. Yanking roughly he bit the Swede's now exposed neck.

[metallhuvud]

Bjorn had noticed the cuts but had assumed they were from the fighting and nothing else sinister. Robert was here so surely he was keeping an eye out on his brother for any worrying signs.

"Ah fuck!---"

The Swede gasped and then giggled loudly while screeching somewhat, grabbing a fistful of Rekker's own long ginger hair yanking roughly. Bjorn then grabbed onto Rekker's right bicep and bit his nails in, leaving some bloody marks of his own. The Brit would get his own blood on his skin as well as the celebration animal blood.

[rage_rekker]

Rekker hadn't cut himself yet but he thought about it briefly. Those thoughts were well away now, especially with that gasp.

Rekker let out a breath through clenched teeth because Bjorn was really yanking on his hair. It hurt so much but it felt amazing. He got his hands down and started unlacing the front of Bjorn's pants. Bjorn was getting smeared with blood, including Rekker's but the Brit had a one track mind right now.

"Why don't you turn around?" It wasn't a request but a demand, despite the wording. "I want to hear you scream for these gods of yours."

Rekker was an atheist, for the most part, but he did respect Bjorn's choices to have other beliefs. Why not give the Swede assistance in honoring his gods. This was a youth and life aligned festival, surely it involved sex, or that was how Rekker imagined it.

[metallhuvud]

Bjorn was glad Rekker hadn't intentionally cut himself or delved into any dark thoughts because that would not be good at all. All the triggers were here though---weapons, booze, blood---it just made the Swede a little nervous. But right now he was whimpering a little when Rekker began unlacing his pleather pants.

"Fuck, babe! Are you wanting to fuck me here in front of everyone else? You dirty ginger bastard."

The Swede laughed and was nowhere near trashed enough yet for public sex but these were their friends and surely others would soon follow. Joe, Aarne, possibly Torden and his harem. Who knew possibly even Karl and Raev. Those were a cute couple too. Bjorn grabbed Rekker's hands and kissed his knuckles, giggling loudly.

[rage_rekker]

Rekker could get easily triggered here and was already drinking when he shouldn't.

"No one will notice." Rekker whispered as he kissed up the singer's neck. "The music and everything."

Rekker had never been like this before but Bjorn had been an influence on him and encouraged his wilder side. Rekker slid his fingers into the loose edge of Bjorn's pants. He gave the Swede a gentle bite on the collarbone. Rekker couldn't help how he felt but Bjorn could probably derail him for a few drinks if he wanted to drink a few before they started undressing.

[metallhuvud]

"No one will notice?! I think they'll soon see and hear us once we get into it. You fucking dirty cock!"

Bjorn just burst out laughing and then squealed at the Brit sliding his fingers into the loose edges of his pants. The Swede had other ideas though and wanted to get way more trashed before fucking Rekker. He giggled to himself as he turned around, smacking Rekker on the ass before running away to the drinks table.

"Come and get me, bastard!"

The trashy Swede grabbing a mug of mead, downing it in one and then grabbing a full wine glass full of red wine, downing that in succession before running around to the back of the table, sticking his tongue out at his horny fiance.

[rage_rekker]

"The rest of them are mostly naked." Rekker kissed Bjorn's lips and definitely trying to sway Bjorn into sex.

He turned around as Bjorn ran from him. He was not going to chase his partner around. He raised a brow and grinned. "You'll come get me when you can't wait anymore."

He gave the Swede the middle finger and leaned back against the wall, legs slightly spread. It's easy to see that the Brit is hard and ready. He might chase him after awhile but not now. He wanted to see how long the Swede would stay away. Maybe he could have another drink while the Swede played his games.

[metallhuvud]

Bjorn wanted to play the chase game with Rekker but realised the grouchy ginger was going to be a bastard about it. Of course he was. The trashy singer now just giving his fiance the finger while downing as much booze as possible at the table before running back over to give Rekker a bit on the ear.

"Now, I'm more trashed. You fucking teasing asshole."

The Swede gave Rekker's hard crotch a squeeze and knew that the Brit wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. Would Bjorn be fucked in front of their friends? It would seem so. Rekker always knew his trashy lover would be back because he couldn't stay away for too long.

"Do you want me, babe?"

Bjorn kissing Rekker's lips; his own lips coated in mead, wine and whatever else he had drank at the booze table.

[rage_rekker]

Rekker was drinking too, slowly compared to Bjorn, while watching the Swede chugging drinks. The bite had him laughing as he pulled Bjorn in by the hips.

"You're the tease with your pants..." The comment never finished because the squeeze had Rekker gasping from the hard throb in his cock. One of his hands slipped down over Bjorn's pressing his hand tighter to the Brit's crotch while his head tipped bac slightly. This was why Rekker stopped drinking, aside from his medication. Booze made him irrationally horny and he couldn't make wise choices, though with Bjorn around to focus him it wasn't so bad.

"That's a stupid fucking question." Rekker got the words out before pushing into that kiss and shoving his tongue into Bjorn's mouth. He's interested in sex but he's also happy to make out. He slid his hand off Bjorn's hip and down into the back of his pants to grab the bare cheek.

[metallhuvud]

"You fucking love my tight pants, babe. The way they show off my ass and crotch."

Bjorn squealed in pleasure when he felt Rekker's own tongue thrust into his mouth. The Swede's hand covered by the Brit's own, now firmly over his hard crotch. Just feeling just how wanton and aroused Rekker was for the trashy blond. Bjorn loved all this of course because he was drunk and horny too.

"What will you do to me, you kinky fuckhead?"

The Swede giggling girlishly, biting Rekker on the shoulder; his hands coming up to rake his painted fingernails down the guitarist's naked bloodied chest. Bjorn's own cock now hardening by the moment, pushing against his pleather pants, creating a lewd outline.

[rage_rekker]

"I like the way they rip easy." Rekker grinned at his partner because the clothes tearing always started him bitching even if Bjorn loved when it happened.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Rekker groaned from those nails while shoving his hips harder into Bjorn's hand. The Brit was being a bastard and he knew it but that was part of the fun. "You probably want shoved against the wall and fucked senseless, you dirty whore."