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Title: Boon (Mythklok, Chapter 43)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Surfers and sleep deprivation
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, surf lingo
Notes: Notes after the jump.

Just as a sort of a general warning, I had to stop working on this one a couple times because I was laughing too hard.




Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal, [personal profile] tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.

So, the last couple chapters: well, Charles has been having prophetic visions about someone who sort of looks like Ganesh, only he’s got wings. Hmmmmm! HAS EVEYRBODY FIGURED THIS OUT BY NOW? No? Well, I’ll finally fucking deal with it here. Oh, and also, remember Seth? Yeah, him? He’s, like, declared himself Grand Duke of Australia, and got a bunch of badass angels to help him. Pickles is Not Amused.

This chapter refers to a genfic I wrote about a zillion years ago, NovelaKlok, which is here and here. It’s kind of long, and you don’t absolutely have to read it (this isn’t your English class), but I thought it was kind of funny when I wrote it, and I’ve since sort of sucked it up to be canon for this AU. To summarize: everyone in the universe is pretty much addicted to the same telenovela.



Boon


In the shadow of the Himalayas….

“Swatches,” said Sariel.

“Swatches, dearest,” replied Ganesh.

“No, uh, that’s what we’re gonna do?”

“Oh, I thought it was your latest term of endearment.”

“Your place still isn’t done?”

“The Taj Mahal took sixteen years to complete!”

“It’s just…. Not that I mind having you down at the ‘haus. I like having you down at the ‘haus. In my shower. Every morning….” Sariel found he sort of lost the thread of his thoughts just then. “Uh. Anyway. It’s just. Looking at swatches? Are we getting boring as fuck?”

“Hmmm. Boring as fuck? Let us see. I destroyed my residence rescuing you after your father, a voodoo prince who has since taught you to cut down trees using only your fingers, kidnapped you and took you off to an exploding universe. Oh, and this was before you marched off to kill God. Boring? Mmmm. Maybe not quite yet.”

Sariel scowled. The glower only increased when he saw Raziel waving gaily outside the residence.

“We’re really gonna look at swatches all night?” Sariel sighed.

“Did you think perhaps we were going to look at fabric samples for ten minutes and then get distracted because you’re curious as to what’s underneath the shirt I’m wearing today even though it is always the same damn thing?”

“See? We’ve gotten boring!”

Raziel grinned and held up a flat rectangular cardboard carton.

Sariel took one whiff and lunged at it.

Raziel easily sidestepped. "No. Bad angel!" she scolded.

"That was impressively done," Ganesh grinned.

"I'm raising infants. Works for angels too."

Sariel was glaring at her.

"Swatches first. Then pie," she told him.

They had just entered the residence when everybody stopped, sensing the Presence.

Raziel went running. Ganesh hastened after her.

She already had her weapon raised.

"Lady Raziel!" Ganesh shouted, catching her from behind. "Please! No flaming sword! I just redecorated!"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" Raziel demanded.

"I wish to speak to my children," the Creator said.

Sariel was standing there too, quietly regarding Him. "What do you want?"

"In my isolation I have been ... considering matters."

There was an awkward silence. "Well," Ganesh tried. "Quiet meditation. It can do good to a troubled soul."

The Creator regarded Ganesh. "Shri Ganesha?" he said at length.

Ganesh nodded.

"I know your uncle."

"Yes. He has told me."

The Creator looked at Sariel and Raziel.

"Look," said Sariel, "Whatever the fuck you want, let's get it over with. We've got swatches and pie."

The Creator nodded. "My Honored Children. When She led you to me... You stayed your hand. You could have slain me, and yet, you did not. Despite ... prophecy."

"Prophecy is a bunch of bullshit," Sariel grumbled.

"Nevertheless. I am in your debt. Both of you. I owe you each a boon."

"Oh, is that what this is about?" Raziel snapped. "I don't want anything from you! Just go away and leave me the fuck alone to raise my kids."

"Yeah, I don't-" Sariel started.

"We wish something," Ganesh said suddenly.

"Ganesh?" Sariel asked. "Oh! Oh, shit, no!"

"I know what it is," the Creator told Ganesh. "This I can do for you. My beloved Daughter, Tzaphkiel – she had the power to summon souls. New souls. I did not know of this. Not until the end.” He stopped, looking heartbroken. “I sense the presence. I can construct a vessel for you.”

"Ganesh." Sariel had grabbed his arm. "No! We do not wanna deal with this guy! He'll fuck us! He'll find some way and fuck us." He looked around. Raziel was touching his arm.

She walked up, directly in front of the Creator.

"OK. Here is my boon," said Raziel, standing right before the Him. "You give them what they want. And you do it right. Because I don't care how long it takes, if I find out something is not square with it, an i not dotted or a t not crossed, I will fucking hunt you down! And it won't be quick! I will spend the rest of my fucking existence killing you slowly!"

"My Daughter. It will be done correctly. If you have one kind thought about me, it will be this."

Raziel had her hand raised, as if she were going to continue with the tirade. But instead she simply searched His face for a moment. Then, finally, she nodded.

The Creator was suddenly holding a golden blade and a silver platter. "I will need blood." He handed the blade to Ganesh, who expertly sliced his own palm and let the blood drip onto the platter. Ganesh gave the blade to Sariel.

Sariel opened and closed his fist. He glared at the Creator. He looked over at Ganesh, as if to say something. He looked at Raziel. She inclined her head, very slightly. And then he suddenly slashed his hand and let some blood spill onto the platter.

The Creator took the blade, and it disappeared. He held out the platter, which was now silver and gold. The blood was dancing on it.

"I will return in seven days," he said.

"Oh, you know damn well it only takes six," Raziel grumbled. "You just wanna day to watch soap operas!"

"I have to catch up on Corazon de Azul," The Creator admitted. "I've gotten pretty addicted since I moved to this universe."

"Oh yeah, that's a good one! OK, seven days," Raziel told him.

The Creator disappeared.

"This is gonna take an extra day so He can catch up on a Mexican fucking soap opera?" Sariel demanded.

Ganesh had grabbed some bandages out of a medical bag and Raziel was helping to bind up his hand. "Actually, it's from Santa Dominica," he supplied.

"It's a fucking soap opera!"

"Sariel, you want him to be happy when he does this, or do you want him to be wondering whether Yolanda ran off with the long haired guy?" Raziel asked.

"Why is she with that rascal when it's so clear she's meant to be with the fellow with the eyepatch?" Ganesh wondered.

"Because women are weird," Sariel grumbled.

"I like the guy with long hair!" Raziel piped up.

"See?" said Sariel.

“Well,” said Ganesh, “at least you couldn’t say that was boring!”

“Can I have my damn pie now?” Sariel muttered.



Australia....

"Toki, dood, you comin'?"

The young guitarist didn't look up from his Gameboy. He grunted.

Pickles cursed the day his half angel bastard of a manager was born. He knew he didn't want to drag Toki along on this mission. But, in his annoyance, he had completely forgotten to ask whether Toki had agreed to this. As it turned out, he too was going out under threat. Charles had Raziel refurnish Toki's room from black trimmed in black to bright pastel colors. The understanding was it would remain that way until his successful return. Pickles actually though this prank was sort of awesome, but the annoyance remained. He almost wished he had asked Murderface to drive them, so he could threaten to turn the fucking car around.

Lady Bast scowled a cat scowl and switched her tail. No question what was going through that one’s head. She wanted her sword embedded in his brother’s neck.

He led them to what would have been Uluru in real time. Charles had given very strict instructions to remain in the Dreaming for this trip. Pickles had grumbled, “Yeh, tell Bast dat.”

He saw the red rock in the distance. Every other way, there was nothing.

And he felt the power.

And then they were surrounded.

On all sides.

The new arrivals (if indeed they hadn't been present all along) were dark. They wore white body paint in decorative patterns. Some carried walking sticks, and stood in an odd one legged stance,

"Uh, hey doods."

"Dude!"

"DUDE."

"Duuuude."

"Hey," Pickles repeated.

"Hey, dude! Are you Pickles the drummer?"

"Uh, yeh, doods,” said Pickles.

"DUDE!"

"Excellent!"

"This is a most, most, righteous day!" said one, now coming forward. "Dudes! The most excellent drummer, Pickles, has come in our midst!"

“Uh, hey doods,” Pickles told them.

"We are the Koori, and we are the surfer dudes of renown. Will you come party with us now, Most Excellent Pickles the Drummer, your weird other dude…”

“Hey,” muttered Toki.

“…and your most righteous cat babe?"

“I’m a lion,” Bast grumbled.

“Hey, shure, doods,” Pickles told them.

“EXCELLENT!”



Valhalla....

"Now, it's not to worry! We will have you out of those diapers and out on a hunt in a trice!"

It was the middle of the night, a time when only fussing infants and club goers are usually up and around. Raziel regarded Wotan, who was cheerfully holding a fussing Lord Liam.

"What?" she asked.

"He is obviously pining for the hunt!"

She took the baby from her husband, held him to her shoulder, and gently patted his back.

Lord Liam burped.

"I thought you said you had done this before?" she asked Wotan suspiciously.

"Well, it's been a while," Wotan admitted.

Raziel's cell phone rang. She balanced Liam on one hip and picked it up. “Sariel? Isn’t it kinda late?”

“Raziel? I feel blooooooated," came the voice at the other end. It indeed sounded like Sariel. But strangely off.

“You…. Have you been into Auntie Sarasvati’s pies again?”

“No! I swear!”

“All right.”

“But I feel huuuuuuuuge!”

“Maybe it’s uh, gas?"

"No! I'm so big! I'm big as an elephant."

"Oh, um, African elephant or Asian elephant?"

"What's the difference?"

"You're dating Ganesh and you don't know? Actually,” Raziel shifted the baby slightly, “is there a reason why you’re not asking Ganesh? I mean, he’s the fucking doctor!”

Raziel could swear she heard sobbing on the other end of the line. “Because I’m big and ugly and Ganesh won’t love me any more!”

“Oh Christ Almighty. OK. How about this?" She handed Liam back to a confused looking Wotan. "I'll be over it a bit. Stay right there. OK?”

“…. ‘Kay,” the other party muttered weakly.

Sariel was sitting on the couch at Ganesh’s residence, dressed in oversized pajamas and an even more oversized robe, his sock-clad feet propped up on a coffee table.

“I’m cranky, Raziel!”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

“And I feel huuuuuuuuge!” He lifted his pajama shirt to reveal a rather concave abdominal area.

“Sariel. You don’t have a tummy. In two thousand fucking years, you have NEVER had a tummy.”

“I’m hormonal!” Sariel wailed.

“OK. Sariel. You are NOT fucking pregnant! The Creator is up watching Mexican soap operas and cooking you a kid in a fucking Erlenmeyer flask.”

Sariel batted teary eyes at her.

“Look," Raziel tried, "do you have any weird cravings? Maybe that…?”

“Yes! For pie!”

“How is that weird?”

“Blueberry pie with BACON!”

“Huh. Well, I don’t know if Ganesh tends to stock bacon. Didja wanna come back to Valhalla?”

“Should I travel in my delicate condition?”

“You mean while you are completely batshit insane? Huh. Maybe not. Look,” Raziel asked, sitting down next to him, very much fighting her urge to stab something, “what if I call your Auntie Sarasvati and tell her you’re pining away for pie with, um, bacon?”

Sariel nodded.

“And ice cream? What flavor?”

“Artichoke!”

“Yeah, knew I shouldn’t have asked,” Raziel muttered, picking up her cell phone.

Sariel, oddly, absolutely insisted Raziel take a rather huge slice of the repellent pie, “So I don’t eat it all!” He put away a rather hefty amount regardless.

“Better now?” Raziel inquired, pushing around a pile of blueberries and bacon bits with a fork.

Sariel nodded, his teeth stained blue.

“OK. So. Do we think we can go to bed now?”

Sariel rose, dramatically holding his stomach. Which was still fairly … well, completely concave. Raziel put an arm around him to steady him towards the bedroom. They paused just outside the bedroom door.

“THANK YOU RAZIEL!” Sariel suddenly cried.

And, he glomped her.

Raziel stood, absolutely frozen.

“You’re the best sister in the wooooorrrrld!” he gushed.

“Uh. Cousin,” she told him. "And uh, promise me one thing?"

"Anything!!!!"

"You will never, ever, tell anyone of this, ever?"

"OK!"

Raziel decided to hell with it, opening the bedroom door, and got him laid down in bed.

Ganesh, who had been fast asleep, roused as Raziel tucked in Sariel.

"Wha-?" Ganesh muttered.

“Your partner is completely fucking batshit. Also, he's feeling fat.”

“Mmmmm. More of him to looooove,” Ganesh muttered groggily, hooking a great number of arms around Sariel.

“Well. There we go. Domestic bliss restored,” Raziel said, Walking back to Valhalla.

“What news from the expectant fathers?” Wotan inquired, holding the now sleeping Liam.

“Sariel is completely off his nut.”

“And, what is new about that?”

“Yeah, true.”

"They will be splendid fathers, both of them!" Wotan averred, handing Liam off to a sleepy Nephthys.

"Uh, yeah."

"Now, let us go work on our next batch!" he told Raziel, slapping her rather ungallantly on the rump.

"Wotan, we've talked about this! I wanna wait at least until these are in law school!"

“I need at least four more sons,” Wotan continued. “That we may field a Valhallan basketball team!”

Raziel sighed deeply.



The Land Down Under....

“Oh, my righteous brothers! It is a most , most excellent day! For here we have Pickles the Drummer, the most bitchin' metal band, Dethklok.”

"Dude!" came a chorus of voices!

Pickles wasn't precisely certain where they were right now. It seemed the dude had Walked them right straight into Uluru. The sky was a strange orange. There was light, but no sun.

"And he has with him, a most excellent babe cat girl..."

"LION girl!"

"A most righteous babe lion girl, Bast chick, and some other dude!"

“I ams da guitarists of Dethklok!” Toki protested.

“Dude! You’re not Skwisgaar Skiwgelf! We know that dude!”

“I ams Toki!” he stated. “I ams da other guitarists!”

“WHOA! There’s more than one guitarist in Dethklok?”

“Yes, dere ams TWO guitarists ins Dethklok!” Toki explained.

"Whoa!"

"Welcome, Toki dude, who is the other guitarist in Dethklok!"

"Hmpf." Toki glared into his Gameboy.

"So, yoo doods are da Dream Walkers?" Pickles ventured. It was a stupid question, but they hadn't introduced themselves. It would sort of suck to come all this way and hook up with the wrong dudes. Charles would probably get all snotty about his expenses, for one.

"We are the most excellent Dream Walkers!”

“We are the shredders of legend!”

“Most legendary, oh my brother! We are the gnarlatious boarders!”

Pickles, who was used to being a bit disoriented, was more than a little discombobulated by the Dream Walkers, as they all seemed to trade off speaking a bit at random, as if they were all of one mind.

“Doods. Yer surfers?” Pickles asked.

“The most bodacious!”

"Long is the legend of our most excellent prowess, O my brothers."

“Before the Dark Time!”

“Before the time of Seth!”

“For he is bogus!”

“He is a most, most heinous agent of bogosity, my brothers!”

“He has separated us from our curl!”

“He is most heinous of heinous.”

“He hast conquered the coastline.”

“With his gnarly angel dudes.”

“Uh, doods,” Pickles ventured. “Set’ is…. My brudder.” He cringed, preparing himself for the reaction. There were startled glances all around the Dream Walkers.

“Then, you will help us defeat him, most excellent Pickles the Drummer?”

“And help us restore our land to its fundamental bodaciousness?”

“Yeh, doods, dat’s why we’re here,” Pickles told them.

“Pickles the Drummer, you are a most, most excellent dude!”

“Thank you, O Brother Pickles, and most bodacious sexy cat lady dude….”

“Lion!” Bast snarled.

“And Toki, the other dude.”

“Ja, whatever,” grumbled Toki.

“Would you like to see Seth now, most excellent Pickles dude?”

Pickles actually paused. “Whoa,” he said.



Ganesh's residence....

And on the seventh day....

Sariel was not entirely certain whether he had slept at any time within the past week. He sat on the couch in Ganesh’s living room, which been cleaned and tidied for the occasion. He had thought this was a fitting location, as it was somewhat isolated. So, he was not entirely certain what Nathan, Skwisgaar and Raziel were doing here.

“What are Nathan, Skwisgaar and Raziel doing here?” he asked Ganesh.

Ganesh smiled as if he had already answered the question several times before. Which, in fact, he had. “This is partly Raziel’s boon, so she wished to be here. This will be Skwisgaar’s relative, as you and Lady Raziel are cousins, and she is his stepmother, which would make them, er, step-second cousins. And, er, I’m not entirely certain about Nathan Explosion, but he is a nice chap.”

“Isn’t it getting late?”

“Well, Corazon de Azul was rather gripping this week! The fellow with the eye patch….”

“Look!” squealed Raziel.

There was a flash of light. And then several people dove for the next room.

“Show off,” muttered Sariel.

The Creator was there. Clutching a tiny bundle.

"Sorry I'm late. Yolanda was considering an engagement to the fellow with long hair!"

"He's such a rascal!" Ganesh swore, pounding a fist on his palm.

"I like the long haired guy," Raziel confessed.

Ganesh and the Creator stared at her.

"At any rate, Shri Ganesha, son of Lord Shiva, here is thy boon." Ganesh accepted the bindle.

There was another flash of light, and e Creeator disappeared.

Raziel scowled. "Show off," she muttered.

Ganesh opened the bundle.

“Whoa," said Nathan, who may have been unclear on the reason for his presence. "It’s a BABY DUDE!”

Ganesh and Raziel both sat down on the floor, the baby secure on Gaesh's lap.

Intelligent brown eyes blinked at them under long lashes.

"He's gorgeous," Raziel sighed, said baby having just produced its first girlie crush of his very young life. She eagerly clicked her cell phone camera. She looked at the screen and giggled. “Wotan is already planning on taking him along on a hunt.”

The tiny boy had dark hair, and dusky skin, much like Ganesh’s. “Are you our little boon?” Gamesh said softly. “Are you?” He pulled the stethoscope off his neck and stuck it in his ears, and then gently applied it to the infant’s chest. “He seems healthy,” he said. "His aura is very clear and bright."

The infant blinked again. And then he flapped his very small wings. The downy feathers were a dark brown, tipped with silver.

A quite thoroughly smitten Raziel actually emitted a squeal. “Eeeeee. These will be gorgeous when they grow out,” she said, lightly touching the wings.

"He appears to be about as far along in development as your twins," Ganesh told her.

"Oh, that's convenient,” Raziel said, pushing buttons on her cell phone. “I’m making a list of materiel to ship you boys. We call pull diapers and bottles from stock, and I ought to have enough extra furniture to get a functional nursery equipped.”

“Isn’t he gonna have a million arms and shit?” Nathan asked, crouching carefully nearby.

“I didn’t manifest my arms until I was a toddler,” Ganesh smiled.

“Ah, gods, a million little sticky fingers! The wings will be enough to deal with,” Raziel said. “I have some dishwashing liquid you might use for them. They're gonna pick up EVERYTHING.” She was madly clicking her cell phone camera again. “We’ll take some pictures with you holding him, and then Sariel….” She trailed off.

“Uhhhh, where the fuck did Charles go?” Nathan asked.

“Pfffft. Him ams never leaves da others room,” Skwisgaar chuckled. He pointed.

Ganesh frowned. He handed the baby off to Raziel and bolted back to the living room.

Sariel was on the floor.

Ganesh crouched next to him. “Hmmm. Seems all right,” he said, taking a pulse. He opened Sariel's eyelid. “I believe he just fainted.”

“Childbirth will do that,” Raziel grinned.

“Keep him on his stomach so he doesn’t DO A HENDRIX!” Nathan advised.

Raziel set the baby down on the unconscious Sariel’s back. She held up her cell phone. “Smile for the camera, little Boon!” she grinned.



Australia....

Pickles looked around nervously. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his new friends: they seemed like pretty awesome dudes. It was just that he’d been pretty much warned upon pain of misdirection spell and pastel pink curtains to stay the fuck away from the coast – from Seth’s territory.

But the Spirit Walker dudes (they said he could call them the Koori dudes, though they’d been vague about individual names) had wanted them to see this. He recognized this place as somewhere around Sydney harbor. He could still see the burnt out remains of the Opera House in the background.

Suddenly, one of the Koori was tapping him on the shoulder and handing him the binoculars. He quietly took a look. “What da feck, dood?” he said, when he finally saw what they were looking at.

Seth was all alone, far down below, pushing a baby carriage along the sidewalk.

“Wut happened to his wife dood?” Pickles whispered.

The Koori dude simply put a finger to his lips, and indicated he should keep watching.

Bast was flourishing a sword. “We should take him! Now!”

Two of the Koori were on her, madly shaking their heads. They pointed again.

A couple were strolling in Seth’s direction. The woman was pointing out the baby carriage. Pickles imagined it wasn’t so common to see one in Sydney these days.

The woman walked a couple of steps ahead, bending over the carriage.

Pickles lowered the binoculars for one moment. He had a sick feeling, and he wasn’t sure why. He raised the binoculars again. Just in time to see the tentacle snake out from the carriage.

He heard Bast gasp.

He heard the small thud as Toki's Gameboy hit the ground.

Pickles dropped the binoculars. He turned. He retched up everything in his stomach.



Valhalla....

"He's a fine boy!" Wotan opined. "We shall teach him to ride. And to use the sword! And we shall take him on many a hunt!"

"That's Wotan's plan for every baby he's ever met," Raziel whispered to Sariel, who, what with the stress of the birth process, was still looking a bit green around the gills.

"We will have him in the saddle as soon as his pin feathers grow out!" Wotan continued.

"Well, except for that bit," Raziel told Sariel. She was clutching his elbow, and, for once, getting no objection to it.

"Now, you'll have to get on with our two!" Wotan was patiently explaining to the baby. The small brown eyes blinked curiously, which may or may not have encouraged the god’s instructive discourse. "I'm not gonna intervene for ye! I don't abide tattle tales!" He carried the infant into the nursery, where Wotan and Raziel's twins lay sleeping together in one bassinet. Wotan carefully placed the boy so he was sitting between the drowsing twins.

Lord Liam roused, smacked a couple of times, smiled a cute baby smile at his brand new best friend for life, and floated back to sleep, to dream of the many adventures they would no doubt have once they were through all that business of teething and potty training and suchlike.

In her short time on earth, Lady Abigail had mastered two things: sitting and scowling. She did both now, glowering at the interloper, who fixed her with kind brown eyes.

Then he flapped his little downy-covered, silvery-tipped wings.

Abby gawped, blue eyes big as window panes, little perfect cupid's bow mouth drawn in an O.

She lunged at him. Unfortunately, she had not yet mastered lunging, and this motion ended up knocking them both over. As this was probably the greatest excitement either had yet had in their young lives, it was decided that a nap was necessitated and so, safely curled inside one of little Boon’s tiny wings, she took a thumb in her mouth, and they both drifted off to sleep.

"Well, I can't promise her in marriage the way we used to,” Wotan announced, “but I'd say that was pretty damned decisive! Yes, I would say they are destined for one another!"

"Hmm," said Ganesh, eagerly comparing cell phone camera photographs of the incident with Raziel. "I think yours is a slightly cuter angle."

"Sweetie," Raziel laughed as Wotan wrapped his arm around her, "they're babies."

"WHAT? THEY CAN'T!" Sariel insisted. "They're related!"

"Oh, they're not very related," Raziel scoffed. "Even if Tzaphkiel and my father really were twins, we'd only be cousins, and they'd be...." She looked up at Wotan.

"That one would be your first cousin, once removed, and the two would be second cousins to each other."

"Wotan's good at the cousin stuff," Raziel explained.

“He can’t…. She can’t…. They can’t….” Sariel sputtered.

“Oh, Lady Bast!” Wotan greeted her. “May I assume Pickles and Toki await us without?”

Bast switched her tail.

“Come,” Wotan told Ganesh and Sariel. “We’ll summon Nephthys to watch the babes.” He and Lady Raziel swept out with Bast.

“We’re gonna leave him with that … girl? To be watched by a goddess of death?” Sariel blathered.

Ganesh gripped Sariel’s elbow and wrested him from the room.

“Hey, I heard you guys, like, totally got a baby and stuff!” Nephthys called to them, removing one ear bud.

Sariel saturated to speak, but was instead propelled along to one of Valhalla's many cozy sitting rooms.

Pickles and Toki were there. Toki barely looked up from his handheld game. Pickles looked a bit unsteady.

"So, our steadfast scouts have returned safely," Wotan blistered, giving Pickles a body rattling clap on the shoulder, followed by a chaser of whiskey. Sariel noticed that the musician downed the whiskey without appearing to taste it.

"So, the threat is Seth's child?" Ganesh asked softly.

Pickles, still looking shaken, nodded. "Yeh. I t'ink dat's what she was." How had he reckoned it was a she? He didn't know. He didn't want to know.

"There is no record of a being like this," Bast stated. “I cannot communicate the danger. This must be dealt with.”

“Bast. Dood.” Pickles had accepted another container of whiskey. “It’s…. It’s a kid. It’s my feckin’… niece.”

“As yet, Lady Bast, we can take no action, as I am not cognizant of the best course. I shall talk to Mimir. And we may need to call the Trans Pantheonic Council.”

“You wish to hold a meeting?” Bast hissed. “Yes, I am certain the beast will be stilled by bureaucracy.”

“Lady Bast,” Ganesh said. “The best course it not always to strike out blindly. Hear the lesson of our own resistance to the Legion. Do not make the same mistake my brother made. Repeatedly.”

“Set has angels on his side, and this new creature. We have never met such an opponent!”

“All the more reason to use our noggins before we go jumping into something,” Wotan told her.

“Ams not so hard defeatsing such a t’ings,” Toki snorted.

All suddenly looked up at the guitarist.

“Toki?” Sariel finally asked.

Toki rolled his eyes. “You ams cutses da tentdacockles, and den zapses hims with da electrisals. Zapses!”

“Toki,” Sariel said patiently, “That’s how you defeat a video game opponent.”

“Still,” said Wotan, “that kind of thing would not be unworkable.”

“Aye, it’s not a bad plan,” Bast agreed.

“We’ve got lava demon sandwiches, in case anyone is interested,” Raziel told them. There was a general movement towards the dining room.

“You would need a distraction…” Ganesh was saying.

“Could I try a round on that gizmo?” Wotan asked Toki.

Soon, there were only two beings left in the sitting room.

“So,” said Pickles. “Dood.”

“I don’t think my stomach could take demon meat right now,” Sariel told him.

“So. Dood,” Pickles reiterated.

“Yeah.” Sariel appeared to stare for a moment or two. “Wanna see?”

Pickles nodded. They walked to the nursery, where Nephthys sat listening to headphones and intently reading a Hello! Magazine.

They stood over the bassinet. “Dood! He’s got wings.”

“Uh. Yeah. Well. I have wings. And. Uh. We’re sort of related.”

They stared for a while at the sleeping infants. Pickles touched the boy very lightly on his forehead. A sweet, peaceful spirit.

And then he looked up again. To perfect agitation. “Dood. Are yoo OK?”

Charles looked completely uncomprehending. In over his head? That’s what Raz said. “Uh. I think it likes me. That’s good, right?”

Pickles did something he thought he would never do. He put a hand on Charles’ shoulder. Surprisingly, his manager didn’t shrink away. “Yeh. Yeh, dood. I t’ink dat’s good.”



Mordhaus, some days later…

"Dood. If yer gonna keep doin' da t'ing wit' da dark glasses, den yoo gotta promise not t' fall asleep durin' da band meetin's."

"What? I was awake!" Charles protested, snatching his glasses back from Pickles.

"Yeah? Den, what wuz we discussing?"

"Uhhhh," he scanned quickly around the Mordhaus conference room. "Murderface was using my taser on Toki and wouldn't give you a turn."

"Damn! He's good!” Nathan exclaimed.

Muderface sheepishly handed back the taser. "I just had it schet to schtun."

Toki glared, looking a bit singed.

"Seriously, dudes, you ams needs to gets da sleepsings."

"My kid is stupid. It doesn't know what time you're supposed to sleep and what time you're supposed to be up drinking beer."

"Oh. That's dumb,” Nathan declared. “They're not born knowing about beer?"

"It's a stupid baby. I have a stupid baby."

"Schouldn't it have a name?"

"Oh, that's just another fucking complicated thing. We've sort of been calling him Boon. But, we’ve got about a dozen people all have to have an official fucking name for some ceremony. Ganesh's Uncle Brahma alone needs a whole month to think of a name, even though it's inevitably Krisna or Vishnu."

“But, dood, you gotta name you can call him, right?”

“Ah. It's not a fucking emergency. It's not as if he comes when you call. He mostly burps and shits.”

“Can we do a name? Raziel let us have a name!” Nathan urged.

“Yeah, sure. Just, within reason. No Murgatroyd or Skippy”

“Aw! That’s what I wanted to pick!”

“Or Darth Vader.”

“I did not say that! I suggested ANAKIN SKYWALKER.”

“That too!”

“Fuck!”

Charles sat for a time and let the flurry of unlikely names swirl over him. Aloycius? WTF? “No, not Dimmu Burger.”

“But I eat there every day!”

“And not Yngwie Malmsteen. No one would ever be able to fucking spell it.”

“Aw!”

“No, not Pikachu!”

“But Pokemon pinball is AWESOME!”

Charles rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Wait, William, what did you say again?"

There was a silence.

"Eliasch?"

Charles stared at the bassist. He grab be his cell phone. "Jaanu. Yes. Horrid people are horrid. Elias. As a name. Uh-huh. Wait, you're calling Raziel? Why...? Yeah, Elias. Uh-huh. Oh, Wotan approves? A chariot? Huh, didn't know that one. Well, yeah, but the dads aren't ever gonna agree on anything…. Oh, uh, hi, Papa. Look, you've already got Sen Michel, and Shiva will have either Krisna or Vishnu. Oh, hi Lord Shiva. No, Lord Shiva, I'm not gonna do Krisna Vishnu, you gotta pick one. Sen Michel is just one name. Raziel, how many fucking lines do you have on this goddam con call?"

Charles put down the phone. "By gods," he said. "I think we reached consensus." Nathan started to speak. "No, Nathan, NOT Murgatroyd."

"Damn!"



Ganesh’s residence….

Sariel, clad only in his swim trunks, hefted the boy, who was now at least informally, Elias, and headed for the kitchen. It had been a while since he'd had a full night's sleep, and he had begun to lose track of time. But some things needed to be done. And so, you did them.

The child had already started giggling and kicking when he spotted the sink. At some point, he had determined that bath time meant saturate a daddy with water time. It was really difficult to evade blasts from well-aimed wings. And this brat had deadly aim.

And baby wings…. Well, as Raziel had cautioned, they were sort of like giant goo magnets. If there was anything even a little bit sticky around the household, it would magically end up stuck in a wing. Sariel had proposed firing the maid and just tying a broom handle to the baby and swishing it around like a mop. Really, if there was a plate of spaghetti sitting in the next county unattended, it would end up in Elias’s wings. Ganesh had replied with one of those "don't even joke about it" frowns of his.

“It’s not that I dislike babies, actually,” Sariel told Elias, squinting as the baby got him smack in the eye with a well aimed volley of those deadly wings. “It’s like dogs. Some people like dogs. I just don’t see the point.”

The baby was regarding him now with Ganesh's eyes. Ganesh's eyes had been voted seventh sexiest in all of India in a recent poll, which made Sariel wonder as to numbers one through six. Regardless, he thought it especially horrible of the Creator to surround those eyes with a chubby baby. Sariel had spared His life, only to be laden with a horrible, sticky being with whom it was physically impossible to get furious. Tis was justice?

“Why would you even bother to be born if you can't smoke cigars and play cards yet? Babies are stupid. I mean, not that you were exactly born.”

Sariel had noted that Wotan had a weird habit of addressing long monologues towards his presumably uncomprehending infant children. He had chalked it up to an eccentricity on the Norse god’s part. But after a bare few weeks trying to manage a child, he found, somewhat to his horror, that he had swiftly fallen into the same pattern.

“If they had really planned this out,” he mused, patting Elias dry with an oversized towel, “you’d all be born at age 35. Then you could gamble. And drive yourself to your own damn day care.” He blotted off the worst of his own dampness, and shrugged into a bathrobe. “That would improve things – no more of those fucking family vans around any more. We’d all have kick ass sports cars.”

He smiled. Elias blinked cheerily when he said “kick ass.” And no sass! There were definitely a few benefits to fatherhood. Well, at least as opposed to managing a metal band.

“I mean, no offense, but I’d say your contribution to society is a bit minimal at present.”. The baby flapped and gurgled. Really, not too much different from managing a metal band.

He carried the baby towards Ganesh’s media room. “OK, I've got something you can do. You can watch Palm Beach Story with me, but I'm not explaining the plot again, so don't even ask.” He clicked on the remote, and then sprawled on the couch, Elias on top of him. The infant gave some satisfied baby smacks, and then promptly dropped off asleep huddled on top of Sariel, tiny wings spread out protectively across his father's chest.

Ganesh returned a bit later to find them both snoring.

"Palm Beach Story, that's good one."

Sariel blinked awake as Ganesh picked up Elias.

"Jaanu?"

"Yeah. What?"

"Whatever have you been doing?

“What?”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”

“What? Do I need a shave?" Sariel frowned. He rose and glanced into a mirror.

"Holy fuck!"

He was back to full Court Form: two green eyes.

He looked to his son in shock. “You did this!” He said it to Elias.

“What?” Ganesh scoffed. “He's an infant.”

“No. He did it. I swear. I told you babies are useless, so you showed me. Right?”

The tiny brown eyes blinked in sweet adoration.

“There's no possible way,” Ganesh told him. “Er. At least I don't think so.”

“Why not? Your family are the world’s most adept magic users guys, or whatever.”

“Well, true.”

Sariel picked up Elias, who gave a happy flap of his little wings. “Look, OK, I get it. Just, no more magic! Not till you're ... 11. Or 18. Or maybe 35.” He looked at Ganesh, who was frowning at his cell phone. “Who are you calling?”

“I have Lady Raziel on the line. But, I need to wait for her to stop laughing.”



Mordhaus, 3 pm, Sunday afternoon....

Pickles tok a seat in the mipedia room.

"Dood, is it time?"

"Yeah, hit the fucking FOOT PEDALS, willya?" Nathan barked.

The room grew silent as the screen showed a dramatic, backlit photo of a woman.

"I saw deir version of dis when I wuz in Australia," Pickles explained.

"Oh? What's it called there?"

"It's Yvonne's Goolagong down dere."

"Is it any good?"

"It's different. So, Yolanda is a surfer. An' da long haired dood is a surfer. An' da dood wit' da eye patch..."

"Is a surfer?"

"Naw, dood. He sorta jest hangs. An' drinks beer."

"Uh-huh. Does he put shrimp on the barbie?"

"Uh, actually, yeh, dood, he does."

"Is it any good? Yvonne's Goolagong?"

"Who can feckin' tell? I mean, dey all speak Australian!"

"Oh, that's pretty annoying. I mean, why can't everyone learn AMERICAN?"

Suddenly the television changed to a stark image of a newscaster in front of a logo that read Boletin Especial.

"Aw, fuck, not another coup! Because, that would really suck."

The television image changed again.

The sky was dark with a veritable cloud of winged figures.

Seraphim.

Flying northward.



Ganesh's residence....

Sariel shifted and roused. He had fallen asleep atop Ganesh on the couch.

What was especially weird was that both of them were fully dressed. Ganesh hadn't even slipped out of his shoes.

Ganesh was now blinking himself. "Wha-?" he muttered.

Sariel looked around. "Baby?" he asked.

They both dove for the empty playpen.

There was nothing there but a note.

"It's Raziel's cell phone number," Ganesh said.

A short time later, Raziel, holding a merry little Elias, strode along the line of personnel arrayed in Ganesh's living room. Ganesh and Sariel trailed sleepily behind of her.

"OK, we have a situation," Raziel declared. "We have an angel baby with magical powers, and two groggy titans of industry as his only guardians. As a concerned party, this will not stand! I have two options. I can either raise triplets..." and here for emphasis she whirled around to face the two men, who blinked and looked sheepish, "an option which I have NOT discounted! Or, I can deploy my troops! You have heard, no doubt, the human notion that it takes a village to raise a child?"

"Uh, yeah?" Sariel ventured.

"It does not! It takes an elite squadron of dedicated professionals!"

Ganesh started to object, but was silenced by Sariel's madly shaking head.

"This is Kamuel. He is a Cherubim, loves children," she said.

"Hi!" said an actually rather Cherubic looking blond man.

"He'll be whatever the fuck a male governess is.”

“Tutor,” supplied Kamuel.

“Thanks. These are cooks who specialize in baby food, cleaners and washers who have experience with baby goo.... Am I making myself perfectly clear?" she once again rounded on Sariel and Ganesh.

"I don't want my boy raised by..." Ganesh started.

"Two idiots who are too fucking tired to notice he's disappeared his playpen and flown off?"

"He can fly?" Sariel ventured.

"What do you use your wings for, Sariel?" Raziel demanded.

"Uh...."

"And these engineers," Raziel continued, "borrowed from my father, will be upgrading the nursery to angel baby standards, which are strict."

"More construction?" Ganesh asked.

"Guess we could move to Mordhaus again," Sariel told him.

"No! I have arranged for some alternate accommodation for you two," Raziel told them. "Somewhere you both can get some sleep."



A universe far away....

Ganesh peered around his easel. “It was kind of your father to offer us the room,” he told Sariel.

Sariel sat out on the sunny seaside balcony, True Formed, Boon planted in his lap. The child seemed to find Sariel’s winged form rather delightful, as he was fluttering his own tiny wings and smiling. “It’s not such a bad place. If you haven’t been kidnapped," Sariel allowed.

“It’s not such a bad place, regardless.”

Boon smacked contentedly at him. He gave his small wings a flap.

“We’ll need to figure out how to put those away,” Sariel told the baby.

“Well, for his convenience. No more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not having any child of mine grow up ashamed of his own wings. Took me long enough to break you of that habit.”

“Ganesh. Not everybody is like you.”

“They should be.”

“Boon’s gonna have to live in the real world.”

“Then we shall remake it for his convenience.”

“Ganesh-“

“Where’s my cocksucking sole heir!”

“Jacque," muttered Sariel.

Elias gave a giggle and stuck out chubby little arms, and was soon engulfed by his grandfather.

“We’ll have you smoking cigars really soon!” Jacque promised.

“Oh, gods,” Ganesh laughed.

“You boys mind if I kidnap him for a while?”

“DON’T EVEN JOKE about that, Papa!” Sariel protested.

“What do you plan, Jacque?” Ganesh smiled.

“We’re gonna drink rum and smoke cigars and maybe play with machetes!” Jacque grinned, winking at Ganesh.

“JACQUE!” Sariel warned, arching his wings.

“Don’t get wings up! My servants have a kid. They’re gonna play in a fucking sandbox.”

“Well, so much for painting,” Ganesh grinned.

“I figger you fellows will find something else to do. C’mon, Elias. We’re gonna make some fucking sand castles.”

“You realize our child’s first words are likely to be cocksucking motherfucker,” Sariel sighed to Ganesh as the two departed.

“He does rather take after you,” Ganesh laughed. He walked over to sit on the balustrade with Sariel. He grabbed Sariel’s rum and sipped it. “This place is gorgeous.”

“You’re gorgeous,” said Sariel, who was now suddenly kissing him on the neck.

“I thought I was merely cute.”

“I’ve reevaluated.”

The kiss slowly intensified. It was delicious. It was a splendid occupation, Ganesh thought, kissing an angel. "We haven't done this in a while, have we?" he asked.

"I don't think so. I can't fucking remember any more."

Ganesh wrapped his legs around Sariel. "You mean to do it right here, off the balcony?" he whispered in the angel's ear.

"You afraid I'll drop you?"

Ganesh smiled and leaned back.

Date: 2011-04-08 02:26 am (UTC)
nugatorytm: Deddy is a great comfort to Toki (Deddybear)
From: [personal profile] nugatorytm
Yup, LJ ate it.

Oh Lordy, why did you have to complicate matters by making the kid the monster? The kid probably ate Lil' Amber, which is why Seth is doing solo daddy duty. Toki is right, though, zap it with electricals. Worked for the Ghostbusters.

Those Koori are a trip. They spoke like a strange crossover between Bill and Ted and Crush the sea turtle from Finding Nemo. Excellent! *air guitar*

AWWW! LOOKIT THE CUTE BABY DUDE! *squees like a mickey-fickey* Elias is a grand name, but I kinda liked Boon. Or add an 'e' to the end and it would be Boone. This kid's gonna be the most badass angel EVAR! He's gonna take over the universe, mark my words.

Date: 2011-04-08 03:14 am (UTC)
nugatorytm: Toki wants to give you some fish! (Toki)
From: [personal profile] nugatorytm
DUDE, YOUR ICON'S SO MUCH MORE BODACIOUS THAN MINE!

Yeah, I was gonna mention Jeff Spicoli too, but Crush worked just as well.

Elias sounds so portentious. I keep thinking of him being a good baby (Boon)/bad baby (Elias), all dual personality and stuff. He'd be the sweetest guy you ever seen, until you piss him off... *DUN DUN DUNNNN!*

Yeah, I think comment notification is now gonna be for the privileged people who have paid accounts. I tried out LJ's free paid trial for two weeks, and I actually got notifications. Now that it's expired, nada.

*grumps*

Date: 2011-04-08 03:45 am (UTC)
nugatorytm: A group of bats flying against a yellow moon. (Default)
From: [personal profile] nugatorytm
Unfortunately, great fics tend to stay in my head, because I have a hard time expressing myself. ;)

What's nice is that there is a way to crosspost your entries to DW and LJ at the same time. It used to be an independent software program you could download, but DW might have incorporated it by now.
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