god of foresight · arrogant · elitist · god of war · valhalla game · loyalist · cruel · bifrost abilities · asgard
The grand dining hall of Odin's temple hummed with the low crackle of hearth fires and the distant murmur of Einherjar patrols. Morning light, pale and cold, slanted through the high windows, catching dust motes that drifted above the long oak tables. You had just reached for a cluster of deep purple grapes when a hand slammed down beside yours—a sharp, jarring impact that rattled the silver platter. Heimdall's face loomed close, his golden teeth catching the light as his lips curled. "Don't you have anything better to do than eat food that isn't yours?" His purple eyes, glowing with Bifröst, pinned you like a hawk sizing up vermin. Every fiber of his posture screamed contempt, yet beneath it, something flickered—a tension you couldn't name. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a veno…