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Title: Mysterious Ways (Mythklok Interstitial)
Fandom: Metalocalypse
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Cursing.
Summary: Polishing up some angel skillz
Notes: I'm deathly ill with Peruvian Box Death, so this one might be odd.






Three tall men met in the corridors of Mordhaus.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf, the first of the tall men, although not literally taller than a tree, was nevertheless of sufficient height to relish sneering downwards upon the less vertically endowed. He felt a strange lack of satisfaction therefore sneering across at the second tall man, the god, Ganesh, who had just walked up accompanied by yet a third tall man, the vodouisant Elegba, who appeared even taller wearing his customary top hat.

Skwisgaar irritably indicated the sitar he was awkwardly carting around. “Ams times for da lesskons,” he curtly informed Ganesh.

“I must beg your indulgence,” Ganesh smiled at him, inclining his head towards Elegba.

Skwisgaar glared, not pleased. That sounded quite a bit like a “no,” and Skwisgaar Skwigelf was not at all accustomed to receiving such a reply to his demands. Ganesh was in fact one of the few creatures in Skwisgaar’s circle who would even dare a negative reply. Ganesh, Skwisgaar reckoned, felt entitled as he was currently fucking the band’s robot manager, an activity Skwisgaar would soon enough not envision as the very thought filled him with a kind of revulsion. In truth he didn’t give a crap who their robot manager wished to fuck, it was more a matter that that that particular act performed by that particular robotic person was something too horrendous for imagining, kind of akin to coming home from school and catching your mother, naked and panting, in the act with not one but two skeezy guys from the village. Somewhat like that.

“We have a rather fine spell to cast. A fine one!” attested Elegba, who grinned, showing his gold tooth. Skwisgaar paused. This Elegba guy seemed pretty cool, like one of those rapper guys. So maybe he ought listen.

“What spells?” asked Skwisgaar.

“This is confidential,” Ganesh told Skwisgaar, leaning in closer. “But, as you know, Toki is having certain … issues, dealing with his winged Form.”

Skwisgaar was all ears now, the grinding humiliation of the “no” suddenly washed away at the mention of his band mate. “Ja? Toki’s wingses?” he asked, blue feathers suddenly floating ghostlike through his mind.

“So, we have located a rather arcane spell that promises to grant the person upon whom it is cast a temporary angelic Form,” confided Ganesh.

“It’s one terrific fucking spell,” gushed Elegba, rubbing his hands together, apparently in anticipation.

“Quite obscure,” agreed Ganesh.

“From a volume of forgotten lore!” attested Elegba.

“It probably hasn’t been cast in centuries,” said Ganesh.

“Ams helps Tokis?” prodded Skwisgaar.

“Well, yes,” said Ganesh. “Er. Yes. The theory, at least, is that no one here really understands being new to flight and such things. Our children have all been winged, nearly since birth, and unfortunately, neither Sariel nor Lady Raziel recall much of their own childhoods. This spell,” he continued, casting a smug glance at Elegba, “might provide some much needed insight into Toki’s, er, present situation.”

“All rights,” said Skwisgaar, plucking his sitar. “I ams does it.”

“Er, does what? I mean, do what?” asked Ganesh.

“You casts da wingsy spells on me, of course!” said Skwisgaar. “I ams da ones dat looks out after Tokis. Hims ams not to brights.”

“Well, no, actually,” said Ganesh. “I was to be the subject-“

“Two subjects!” said Elegba, his dark eyes lighting up. “Well, fuck me up the ass, two’s better than one! Any day!”

“Elegba,” warned Ganesh.

“We're to meet up in Valhalla! First thing tomorrow!” Elegba told Skwisgaar.

“Ja, I meets you dere!” agreed Skwisgaar, who took his sitar and ambled off.

“Oh … fuck me,” mouthed Ganesh.



“So, tomorrow is the big day?” asked Charles.

“Mmmm,” said Ganesh.

“Is it me, or do you not sound exactly excited about it?” asked Charles, briefly looking up from his desktop to the being on the bed next to him. “It's a new spell, right?”

“Skwisgaar has insinuated himself into the process,” grumbled Ganesh.

“What, he wants to watch?” asked Charles.

“He will be an additional subject to the experiment.”

Charles glanced up over his glasses, which reflected the Facebones image his desktop background. “If he wants to do this, why don't you let him be the only subject?”

“What, give up my place?” asked Ganesh peevishly.

“Dear,” said Charles, “we've talked about this. Wings are a fucking pain in the ass. Listen to me. That is all you're gonna find out.”

“Then perhaps I owe it to you to experience it for myself,” reasoned Ganesh.

Charles shook his head. “Anyway, Ganesh, you and your voodoo buddy get to do a cool new spell, don't be so grim.”

“It might put me in a better mood,” said Ganesh, rolling over in bed, and stroking a finger down Charles' thigh, “if you would pay a bit more attention to me, and a bit less to that laptop computer.”

Charles lowered the laptop screen. “I just need to catch up on a few things before we, you know....”

“You were working this afternoon, weren't you?”

“Yeah, but I was also watching Boon.” Charles closed the laptop completely now, frowning.

“I thought the boy was content to play on his own. For a time?” said Ganesh.

“He is! He is!” said Charles, his calm demeanor suddenly shattered as he related his frustration. “It's just, he'll play for a while, but then he's up in my lap! And then the cat will sit on my laptop, and the dog will come curl up under a chair leg so I can't move!”

“Well,” said Ganesh soothingly. “You know it is all right to tell the boy you need to work....”

“I'm not gonna push him out of my lap! He wants to be with me!” said Charles, throwing up his arms in frustration. “I'm not a monster!”

“No, no, of course not,” said Ganesh, now tracing two fingers down Charles' side. “You are a very good father....”

“I don't understand! It's a huge office! But he wants to be right in the middle of everything.”

“He wants to play at your desk?” asked Ganesh, who rolled back on his back, putting his arms behind his head. He had a thoughtful look on his face.

“What? You've got an idea?” Charles suddenly put the laptop aside and excitedly straddled Ganesh.

A small smile teased Ganesh's lips. “I might. I might indeed.”



“Whoa!” said Elegba. “Well I'll be fucked up the ass!”

“Pretty impressive!” agreed Raziel.

“You two! Don't shed feathers on my Persian carpet!” warned Wotan.

Ganesh, who was standing in the middle of the room along with Skwisgaar, carefully extended a wingtip. “Oh. Silver on black! I had expected my wings to be completely dark,” he said.

“Waaaugh!” yelled Skwisgaar, who quite suddenly fell right over onto his back, bringing down a table lamp in the process.

“Yeah, they're a little heavy,” said Raziel, who had grabbed the lamp at the last moment, silently praying thanks that Sariel was not around to witness this. She set down the lamp and then, taking Skwisgaar's hand, wrenched him quite easily to his feet. “Try and lean forward a little.”

Skwisgaar leaned, breathing hard and glowering. “What ams da meanings of dis?” he demanded of Elegba, stretching out one bright red wing.

“We didn't have much fucking control over the coloring,” said Elegba.

“I t'oughts my wings ams be blonds!” said Skwisgaar.

“You come by it honestly, lad,” laughed Wotan. “Several of my sons are redheads, like your brother,” he said, pointing out a very impressed Liam, who was blinking up at his half brother.

“Oops!” exclaimed Ganesh, who had experimentally poked out a wing, only to have them bring down a few knickknacks from the hearth. “My apologies,” he said, turning about.

“Ows! You ams pokeses me in da eyesball!” yelled Skwisgaar.

“OK, boys, I think we need to take the wings outside,” said Raziel.

“But we-” began Ganesh. He and Skwisgaar looked at Raziel, and both realized this was not a request. “Er, yes. Outside.” He gestured at Skwisgaar, who strode out, Raziel hastening after him to catch any jostled paintings or wall hangings in his wake.



“So, here we are,” said Charles, ushering his son into his office. The boy gasped and ran to Charles’ desk.

There was a brand new high chair sitting next to Charles’ chair, near his right hand. Elias clambered up and sat down. He put his ever present electronic tablet down in front of him on Charles' desk. He was at exactly the right height! Hobbes the tiger, who was never far away, had already hopped up into the chair next to him, while Murgatroyd contented himself sniffing around the chair legs.

Ganesh had suggested the procurement of a second chair, and then Charles had furthered the notion by having his furniture makers build the seat into a small replica of his own office chair. The presumption being the two men could then “work” in parallel.

“Uh, do you like it?” asked Charles. Elias was a chatterbox, but sometimes he could be impressed into silence. In answer, his child slid back down off the chair and glomped himself tightly around one of Charles' legs. “Well, OK then,” said Charles, smiling down at him, and pushing a stray hair out of the child's face. “What do you say let's get to work?”



“All right. First we'll work on weight control,” said Raziel. She and the kids were overseeing Ganesh and Skwisgaar's angel training as Wotan and Elegba had suddenly felt overcome by an urgent need to go smoke cigars.

“Lady Raziel, may I ask where you happened upon that uniform?” inquired Ganesh. Raziel was decked out like a coach, complete with cap and whistle.

You don't have a coach's uniform?” she asked Ganesh.

“Er. No, as a matter of fact....”

“Kids?” said Raziel. On cue, her twins went barreling towards the side of a nearby barn, and then continued running right up. The stopped near the roofline, looking down and giggling.

“Think you can do that?” Raziel asked Ganesh. “Control is key! If you're too light, you float away like a balloon, but if you're too heavy, you go sliding down.”

“Allow me!” said Ganesh confidently. He first kicked off his shoes, and then strode barefoot to the wall and then, to the astonishment of all, started to walk right up. He continued for several paces, until quite abruptly, his feet seemed to slide out from under him, and, with a yell of “WHOA!” he came crashing right down to earth in a tangle of silvery-black wings.

Raziel ran over to the hay that was piled near the wall, in anticipation of such an eventuality. “Ganesh? You OK?” she asked.

“I shall live,” he said, coming up and giving his wings a rattle, sending straw fluttering everywhere.

“OK, you're turn, Red Wings!” Raziel ordered.

“Whats you ams calls me?” protested Skwisgaar. But Raziel only blew her whistle. Skwisgaar scowled and carefully approached the side of the barn. He put one booted foot experimentally on the wall, and then, crouching down, another. Keeping down in a half-squat, he very slowly ascended the wall, step by step, until at last, breathing hard, he had attained the top.

“VERY GOOD! Way to go, Skwisgaar!” cheered Raziel.

“Ja,” said Skwisgaar, who appeared actually somewhat terrified.

“Can you stand up?” asked Raziel.

“I ams not wants to!” Skwisgaar called down.

“Come on, my kids will catch you!” she urged.

“No! Dems twinses stays away,” called Skwisgaar, suddenly reaching out to wave off the twins. And then, with a cry, he too was down in the hay pile.

“Are you OK?” asked Raziel as her kids fluttered down to stand beside the guitarist.

“Red weens!” giggled Liam, as Skwisgaar spit out straw.

“Pfffft,” added Skwisgaar.



Charles was deep into the fourth quarter profit and loss numbers when he got a very odd feeling. He looked up. Elias, who had just been sitting quietly at his side, was no longer sitting in his new chair.

Charles frowned, looking around the office. He didn't see the boy. And now he wondered how Elias had wriggled out without disturbing the animals, who were both snoring contentedly.

He sat back and listened, adjusting his sensitive angel ears. There it was: angel breathing! He scooted back and looked under his desk, but Elias wasn't there.

Then Charles turned his attention to his desk. The big drawer, right at the bottom. He extended a hand, and then yanked!

A familiar little head popped up.

“DADDY!” squealed Elias, who had somehow concealed himself in the bottom drawer.

“Boon,” said Charles. “How did you get down there?”

His son only giggled.

Charles suddenly had an inkling. “Hold it,” he said. He gently pushed his son's head back down, and then closed the big bottom drawer.

And then he turned around.

There was Elias, sitting up beside him in his own little chair.

“BOON!” said Charles, leaping up and lifting his son out of his chair. “You can Move, baby?”

“Uh-huh!” said Elias.



“Now, the take off!” said Coach Raziel as Ganesh and Skwisgaar stood before a veritable landing strip of straw. Skwisgaar slightly jostled Ganesh, who jostled back, the two winged men glaring at each other.

“Pay attention!” said Raziel. “Spread wings, reduce weight, run into the wind! We don't care about landings yet, because, given what I've seen of you two bozos, they're not going to be very pretty.

Skwisgaar and Ganesh now glared at Raziel, Skwisgaar flapping his reddish wings in irritation. “So don't try to gain much height,” she continued. “Just get airborne, and then let yourself come down onto the straw. To repeat, we're not going for distance here!”

Skwisgaar nudged Ganesh. “I bet I ams flies a millions billions times better dan yous,” he whispered.

“We shall see. Red Wings,” Ganesh whispered back.

“Ganesh! Let's see whatcha got!” Raziel shouted, whereupon Ganesh extended his brilliant dark and silver wings, too a running start, and then, as the crowd (well, Raziel and the twins) gasped, took wing.

“I'm flying!” he screamed, just before he pitched face-first into the straw.

“Pffft,” scoffed Skwisgaar as the twins helped their shaky uncle back to his feet.

“Now you try Skwisgaar,” said Raziel.

The guitarist was already running.

And then he was up!

“I ams flies!” he hollered, as he flapped and rose higher and higher and higher.

“Skwisgaar!” warned Raziel. “Watch your weight! Watch your weight!”

But then there was a sudden gust, and Skwisgaar swooped suddenly backwards, slamming full force against the side of the barn with a big splat. Stunned, he thereupon slid down, to rest upon his kiester.

“You really must watch that weight,” suggested Ganesh as the twins now helped the dizzy guitarist to his feet. Skwisgaar glared.



“Where's BOON?” asked Charles. Nathan frowned as Charles' weird kid suddenly popped out from beneath the couch cushions beside him.

“What are you guys doing anyway?” asked Nathan. Nathan plucked the kid out of the couch and sat him nearby, and then turned to face Charles.

“We're playing!” said Charles.

Nathan scowled at his manager. Charles? Playing? He remembered how Skwis and some of the others liked to call him the robot. Maybe it was short circuit time?

“Playing what?” asked Nathan.

“Show him, Boon!” said Charles. “WHERE'S BOON?”

“He's right-” said Nathan, turning back around. No he wasn't. “Where did the kid go?” Nathan was actually motivated to stand up on his feet. He shook of the potato chip crumbs and looked around. “Where did the kid go? HEY, BOOOON!”

One of the equipment trunks sitting at the side of the room suddenly creaked open. “Here Unky Nate-Nate!” announced Elias, popping up like a little jack in the box.

“How did he do that? That's sort of weird and sneaky,” Nathan told Charles.

“Angels are weird and sneaky!” laughed Charles. “See for yourself! Close the trunk.”

“OK, back in the box WEIRD KID,” Nathan told Elias, pushing down on the giggling Boon-in-the-box and closing the lid, which he latched, just to make sure. “Wish I had a lock,” he mused, squatting down by the latch. “WARGH!” he said, jumping up. He turned to see who had just poked him in the back: Elias.

“Hi Unky Nate-Nate!” sang the boy.

“How the fuck did you do that! This case has a false bottom, right, like a magic trick?” asked Nathan, tipping over the trunk and punching the bottom. “Ow!” he said, shaking out his fist.

“C'mon Boon, we gotta show Auntie Raziel!” said Charles, hoisting his weird kid and departing. Nathan let the trunk fall back to the floor as he watched them go. Then, he suddenly turned around and flung open the lid.

“Huh. Nobody in there,” he grumbled.



“All rightie, this is the key to it all, a perfect two point landing!” Raziel called up to Skwisgaar and Toki. Somehow, both of them had ascended to the top of the barn.

“I ams lands better dans yous, Mr. Blacks and Silvery Wingses!” attested Skwisgaar.

“I wouldn't count on that,” said Ganesh. “Red.”

“Remember!” shouted Raziel. “Glide down, retract wings, let yourself drop. Ganesh, you wanna go first?”

“I ams goes first dis times!” said Skwisgaar, shoving his way to the front.

“Raziel asked me to go first,” countered Ganesh, shoving back.

“Look, guys, it doesn't matter, toss a coin!” said Raziel. “Wait! Whoa! Out of the way kids!” she shouted, as she and the twins ran to get out of the way.

A weird two-headed angel flew overhead. It soared, and then twisted, and then soared just beyond the end of the straw runway, where it crashed in a tangle of wings and limbs into the mud.

“Ouch,” said Coach Raziel as the twins giggled. “Hey, are you guys!”

“You ams shoves me!” Skwisgaar was yelling.

“You shoved me!” shouted Ganesh. One pulled, the other, pushed, and the both of them ended up flattened once again in the mud, where they grappled for a time, coating wings and bodies with the rich brown mud.

“How are we doing?” asked Wotan, who had just come out of the house. He clapped a hand on Raziel's shoulder. “Are you getting photos, my dear?”

“Video,” said Raziel, who was holding up her cell phone as the two temporary angels continued to mud wrestle.

“Well that's how you expect them to behave,” laughed Wotan.

“Who to behave?” asked Raziel.

Brothers!” said Wotan. “OK! BOYS! ENOUGH!” he hollered, causing both Skwisgaar and Ganesh to sit up, although under the layers of soil it was now quite difficult to determine who was who.

“Ja, Fadder?”

“Yes, Uncle?”

“Cook's got dinner ready. Time to stop this foolishness,” said Wotan.

The two mud men regarded each other, and then rose.

“Oh, you're not coming in like that!” said Wotan.

“Er, like what?” asked the mud man who was probably Ganesh.

“Liam! Abby!” said Raziel. “Get the hose.”



“Have you guys seen Raziel?” asked Charles, who had Elias on his hip.

“Baap?” asked Elias curiously.

“Yes, that's your Baap,” said Charles, letting the boy slide off and run over to Ganesh.

“She ams insides. At dinners,” sighed Skwisgaar, giving a shake to his dripping wings.

“She refuses to let us venture inside until our wings have dried,” added Ganesh, taking up a morsel of food from his TV tray.

“It's a nice spring day, they'll dry quickly,” said Raziel, who had just come out on the porch.

“Why can we not use a blow dryer to hasten the process?” whined Ganesh.

“Oh, you don't want split ends!” said Charles.

“Yeah, that'll get you split end feathers for sure,” said Raziel.

“But we shall only be afflicted with these wings for a few more hours,” pleaded Ganesh.

“So,” said Charles, “what have you guys learned from all this?”

Ganesh and Skwisgaar exchanged a glance, and then they were off. “They are an affliction!” “Ams imposskibles to puts on da geetar straps!” “Flying is a difficult business!” “Ams knocks overs everyt'ings!” “You can't possibly wear a decent shirt!” “And I t'inks I ams allergicals to da feathers!” added Skwisgaar, who sneezed.

“You were looking for me?” Raziel asked Charles.

“Oh, yeah! It's Boon!” said Charles, grabbing up his child. “He can Move!”

“Is this true?” squealed Raziel.

“Uh-huh!' Elias told her.

“I've seen it!” said Charles.

“Well, I thought maybe the twins were doing it, but I can't prove anything.”

“Wait,” said Ganesh. “Boonie is doing what exactly?”

“We Move, you know, in mysterious ways,” said Charles.

Ganesh frowned. “Is it like a Spirit Walk?”

“No, it's closer,” said Raziel. “And it's instant.”

“But we can't explain too much. Or it wouldn't be mysterious!” said Charles.

“Wait, jaanu,” said Ganesh. “So you are telling me, for example, those times when you seem to suddenly appear behind me....”

Charles didn't answer, but merely grinned. “Anyway, we've been playing all afternoon, Boon and me!”

Playing?” asked Ganesh.

“Yeah,” admitted Charles. “I guess I ended up neglecting the work a bit again,” he added sheepishly.

“Sariel!” boomed Wotan as he and Elegba emerged from the house. “I've just opened the Scotch!”

“Elegba,” said Ganesh, standing up and rattling his wings. “Does this spell give me all the angel powers? All of them?”

“It should,” said Elegba, tapping out his cigar.

“Hmmm,” said Ganesh. He took Lady Raziel by the wrist and led her away, whispering to her.

“Hey sure,” said Raziel. “Your guest room is all made up. Go for it.”

Charles was reaching over for a cigar when he suddenly felt someone behind him. Two sets of arms were wrapped around him. “Hey. Ganesh?” he asked.

And then the both of them were not on the porch any more.

“Where da daddies!” yelled Elias.

“They've gone to play hide and seek,” Raziel explained, extending a hand. “Come on, let's get some pie with your cousins!”

“Yay bie!” said Elias.



“Pickle, what ams you doings?” asked Toki.

Pickles looked up at the young guitarist. He was sitting on the couch watching television, but instead of the coffee table, he had a large black trunk pulled up where he was resting his feet. “Playin' hide an seek,” he offered.

“Whats?” asked Toki plopping down next to him. “Ams I plays too?”

“Shure dood,” grinned the affable drummer. He withdrew his feet, leaned over, and popped open the trunk. “Still dere, dood?” he asked.

Nathan Explosion awkwardly propped himself up. “Wait! Wait! I almost got it!” he said.

“Yer shure?” asked Pickles.

“Sure I'm sure! If the kid can do it, SO CAN I!” Nathan painfully eased himself back down, and Pickles closed the lid again.

“Picklesch! Can you come here for a minute?” came Murderface's voice.

“Yeh, shure dood, I'm comin',” the drummer yelled back. “Yoo watch Nat'an fer a while?” he asked Toki.

“Ja, I ams plays!” said Toki.

“Jest open da lid frum time t' time t' make shure he's still gaht air t' breathe,” explained Pickles, who grabbed his beer and wandered off.

Toki propped his feet up on the trunk. He sat for a while, watching TV.

“Uh, Tokis?”

Toki turned around. “Hey, Skwisgaar.” The Swede had returned to his human Form, and so did not appear remarkable to Toki in any way. Skwisgaar did look like he was trying to say something, but as nothing seemed to come out, Toki shrugged and turned back to the television.

“Uh, what you ams doing?” asked Skwisgaar.

“Ams playing da hides and seeks!” said Toki brightly, thumping the trunk.

Skwisgaar stared at him, utterly confused. “Uh. OKs,” he said. He was silent for a long moment.

“Ams you wants to plays too?” asked Toki.

“Uh, ja,” said Skwisgaar, setting aside his guitar and leaning it against the arm of the couch. He sat down next to Toki. “I ams plays too,” he said.

Toki smiled, a really lovely smile, a breathtaking smile, and then Skwisgaar cracked open a beer, and they sat and played hide and seek for a while.
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