Library Card (Mythklok, Chapter 30)
Feb. 12th, 2011 01:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Library Card (Mythklok, Chapter 30)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You can get a lot of information at your public library!!
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing, smoking
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Cross-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
capslokdethklok.
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
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.
A quick summary of what's been happening: The angels have started killing each other again, which is what they do best. Meaning they're kind of neglecting their other duties, such as making sure all of creation doesn't unravel. So it's up to Dethklok to save the universe! Yeah, that bad. Meanwhile, Pickles was sent a vision of the Creator apparently murdering a woman who looks a lot like Raziel. So, they're all going to the library! Oh, and as I promised, this one has an ORIGIN STORY. But, I'm not telling you whose. You'll just have to read, hahaha.
This is how I envision the angelic library.
Library Card (Mythklok, Chapter 30)
Lord Wotan was kissing Lady Raziel's pregnant belly when he became distracted.
She was not really showing, not yet, but he had finally badgered Ganesh into soothing her nausea, so she was no longer looking slightly haggard and thin. Lord Wotan couldn't see inner lights or spirits or any of that nonsense, but he knew when his Lady's skin was pink and warm and her hair was glossy. Thanks to the odd bracelets which she wore even now, though she was wearing little else, her appetite had bounced back, and he would soon have her fat and round, so they would deliver the most chubby infants the world had ever seen, and he could get on with spoiling them absolutely rotten in person, instead of by proxy.
"Yes?" came a voice. He looked up to see Raziel staring inquisitively.
"Are they singin'?" he asked.
She laughed softly and placed her hands lightly down on his head, which he dropped to rest on her stomach. Wotan had lived a very long existence, but he had never heard anything quite so weird and charming: the sweet, pure voices of his children mixed with a angel chorus.
He blinked and looked up again. She had dropped her hands, and the voices had stopped. "All right?" she urged. "Horny pregnant woman here!"
Wotan grinned and carried on.
A while later, as she lay drowsing on top of him, Wotan stroked her hair and told her, "Quite exciting, that my children are off on an adventure before they are even born!"
"An adventure?" Raziel muttered. "We're going to the library."
"Oh, with this company, it will be an adventure."
"Maybe. If Sariel has some overdue books."
"I have heard many stories of your glorious library!"
"You sure you don't wanna come?"
"Now then! I promised a hunt for Aaron! It's about time he learned."
"His old body was pretty bad, you know, so he didn't get to do very much."
"Balderdash! Vulcan is lame, and he's a splendid huntsman!"
"Well, you'll have to tell me how it goes. Will probably be more exciting than paying Sariel's fines."
"Are you cold, jaanu?" Ganesh asked.
"I'm fine," Sariel grinned. They had just arrived at Valhalla. Winter's chill was still in the air, but Sariel, who usually claimed to be little affected by the cold, had dressed in a long wool coat and a knit neck scarf.
Lady Raziel appeared at the front gate. She too was dressed in a long overcoat with a knit scarf. The two angels spotted each other and immediately started pointing and laughing.
Ganesh frowned, utterly puzzled. He spotted Pickles, who had just appeared, hand in hand with Aaron.
"Do you have any idea what is up with those two?" the puzzled god asked Pickles.
"Dood, believe me, it's a joke only dose two t'ink is funny." He looked down at Aaron. "Now, yer gonna be good fer yer Uncle Wotan?"
"IS AARON HERE?" Wotan boomed. He had emerged from the hall and was standing above the boy, looking down at the top of his head. "Are ye quite ready to go on the hunt today?"
Aaron nodded, apparently too stunned to speak.
"I suppose ye have been on many a hunt!" said Wotan.
Aaron shook his head.
"YOU'VE NEVER BEEN ON A HUNT?" Wotan grinned.
The head shaking increased.
"And how old did you tell me you were?" Wotan was now crouching down, so the size difference was not quite as dramatic.
"Eleven and three quarters," Aaron whispered.
"You are eleven and three quarters and you've never been on a hunt? I suppose you're gonna tell me now you've never ridden a horse!"
Aaron, eyes big as dinner plates, continued shaking his head.
"Well, I guess this means you'll need to ride with me on Sleipnir! Did you want to meet Sleipnir now? We'll have to see if he approves of you. He doesn't approve of just anybody!" The head shaking had turned to wild head nodding as Aaron whisked away with Wotan, taking at least three steps to each of the god's long strides.
Pickles stood, alone.
"Bye, Aaron," he said.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Raziel told Pickles, gripping him by the elbow. “He’s been raising boys for centuries, so he know all the silly things they like to do. Now, when my girl comes, it will be a different story! She’s going to learn French, and take ballet class!”
“Why the fuck does Raziel think her daughter is gonna give a shit about fucking ballet?” Sariel grumbled to Ganesh. “Any kid of hers is gonna wanna stab stuff with pointed sticks!”
"Can I just stay here and go along on the hunt with Uncle Wotan?" Ganesh asked wistfully as they disappeared.
"Skwisgaar, why are you wearing that stupid hat? You look like some kind of douche bag."
"I ams not da douche bags, Nat'ans! I ams da hards boiled detectives on da case for da dame wit' da great gams!" Skwisgaar stood in front of a bat wing-bedecked full length mirror at Mordhaus, trying to adjust his fedora to it's jauntiest angle.
"Who?"
"Lady Raziel."
"Eh. Her legs are OK. She's got nice tits."
"She ams my step mom!"
"Yeah. Your step mom has nice tits."
Skwiagaar shrugged. "Ja, I guess so."
"So, where you goin'?"
"I ams starting da case."
"Uhhhhhhh...."
"Pfffft. What's, Nat'ans?"
"Could I go, dude? I'm kinda bored here."
Angels, in the opinion of some quarters, do not have much to recommend them. They are quarrelsome, and can be quite close minded. They stand too much on ceremony, and tend to gossip. They are overmuch distracted by pretty things.
However, they sing beautifully (the ones, who, unlike Raziel, have been gifted with song). And they are responsible for one of the wonders of Creation, the central library.
It looked less a library than a ziggurat, a giant glass pyramid that had been sliced into a dozen neat sections, all interconnecting like a pieces in a giant Tetris game. It was one of the most beautiful structures ever crafted. And it held every story. Not just every book: every story. Including ones not yet dreamed.
"You knew about this place, and you never brought me?" Charles whined.
"Why the fuck would we have ever wanted to go to the fucking library?" Raziel asked him.
"To steal pencils!" And they both started to laugh.
"I'm afraid I do not understand," Ganesh confessed to Pickles.
"Dose two gotta fucked up sense o' humor," Pickles muttered. It had been a bit of walk to get here, as it turned out, with much jerking around from Lady Raziel, so he was in a grumpy mood. She had not much finesse, that one, but she was strong as an ox, so she basically just grabbed you by the collar (sometimes literally) and yanked you from place to place. Charles and Ganesh seemed to be cool with it, or at least to recover quickly, but it knocked the fucking wind out of him. So much so that Ganesh had taken to gripping him lightly by the elbow was they walked. Like he was a weakling or something. Why the fuck had he come on this, anyway? So they could all feel godly?
He sighed as Lady Raziel once again yanked him by the collar.
They were inside. It looked like ... the entrance to a library. There were a couple of bored looking clerks checking out books, and another utterly bored looking clerk monitoring the entrance turnstile.
They stepped forward. Well, three of the stepped forward.
Raziel marched back to confront Charles, who seemed oddly intimidated by the turnstile.
"Uh, I am ... Fallen. You know," he muttered. Pickles stared. He realized of course that Charles was on the outs with the other angels, but this was the first time he could recollect him actually acting a little ashamed about it.
Raziel grabbed him by the collar and dragged him through the turnstile.
"It's a library," she told him brightly. "The Creator doesn't run it, librarians do! Now, come on."
They walked into the main atrium, and joined a small crowd there, just gawping. The building's glass walls seemed to soar up into the heavens. And you could see on every floor book stacks upon book stacks containing endless volumes. It was as to a city of books.
"Is dis like every book?" Pickles asked, feeling a little bit stupid.
"Every book that ever was, all the books that are, and every book never written!" Raziel said proudly.
"Uh, what?"
"I always thought the library at Mordhaus was pretty impressive," said Charles, shaking his head.
"Fortunately, our central library is located in the south, so it escaped damage in the attacks. But, it is nothing to this," Ganesh commented.
"Wanna steal some pencils, Sariel?" Raziel grinned.
"Nah. We wasted a lotta of time getting her today. Let's go talk to Zap Kill, or whatever."
"We may not have this chance again!" she giggled.
They approached one of the glass elevators.
"So, are da librarian doods like dose Cherub doods?" Pickles inquired.
"Oh, no, they're the Ophanim," Raziel told him. She frowned. "Um, you do know what those are, right?"
"I kinda doubt he would," Charles told her. "Nobody learns that useless shit any more."
"Ooooohh. Well. You'll like the Ophanim!" Raziel grinned. The elevator arrived. Pickles had never seen so many elevator buttons. The markings were not in English, but Raziel picked one. He leaned over on the glass to get a better view, and was terribly disappointed when the elevator started to descend.
"Wut da feck?"
"Everything cool in a library happens in the basement!" Raziel cheerily informed them.
"Raziel, how the fuck do you know what goes in in a library?" Charles grumbled.
"I told you Wotan likes playing Stern Librarian and Confused Patron."
"He isn't still trying to master the Dewey Decimal System, is he?" Ganesh grinned.
"Please forget I ever asked you," Charles begged.
The doors opened to what looked like a series of caverns. There was a soft glow of illumination, but the source of the light was unclear.
"Are these stalactites or stalagmites?" Raziel asked.
"I could never remember," Ganesh confessed.
"Whoa! Doods!" exclaimed a no longer disappointed Pickles, as the source of the illumination was now clear. They looked like wheels - old fashioned wagon wheels - spinning and spinning in the air. They also appeared to be on fire, which accounted for the warm, flickery glow.
One appeared to be pushing a cart load of books nearby. "Raziel? You speak Common Angelic," Charles urged.
Raziel babbled something, and the wheel stopped spinning. It was covered in eyes, all of which appeared to be looking them over. It babbled something back in a strange sing-song hiss. Pickles thought it might sound like the crackle of a camp fire. That is, if he'd ever heard a camp fire. Raziel beckoned them to follow her down a pathway. After a bit, the cavern opened up, and they beheld an entire chorus of fiery spinning wheels apparently dancing over piles and piles and still more piles of books.
"My drugs ain't ever bin dis good," Pickles muttered in appreciation.
They crossed the floor to a series of smaller, dead end caves. Offices? Pickles wondered. Somehow, Raziel located the cave of a particularly large round spinning object.
"This must be...." Ganesh began.
"Oh please don't say it!" Charles sighed.
Raziel babbled again to the Chief Ophan Librarian. They continued back and forth for a time. Raziel turned.
"Lady Tzaphkiel has retired from the Library. She is not well. She now lives at a place that's close by, but this guy says it's in the dodgy part of town."
"Wut does dodgy mean?" Pickles worried.
"Oh, you know," said Ganesh. "Seedy and dangerous."
"Uh...." said Pickles.
"You're with two avenging angels and a god! What could happen?" Raziel tutted.
"Why are we changing the fucking tire again?" Nathan grumbled.
"Do you ams sees da gas station?" Skwisgaar inquired, fiddling with the jack.
"Can't you like wave your hand and some babes with big tits will appear to fix it?"
Skwisgaar chuckled. "If there ams da beautiful girls here, ams you gonna fix da tire?"
"Uhhhhhhh, probably not," Nathan admitted.
Nathan looked to the horizon. They were in Pickles' weird Dreamspace - that much he knew. And since Skwisgaar couldn't just pop in and out like Pickles, they'd first gotten a bit high on some kind of weird tea Pickles had left from the kachinas. Murderface had reluctantly granted them the use of his Pink Caddy, and that's where they'd gotten into trouble when they ran over what looked like bone fragments.
"Nathan! Dude!"
Nathan jerked around. It was a bear, with an eagle riding on his shoulder.
"Hon! Kwahu! What are you Kachina dudes doing here?"
"Was gonna ask you the same question, man! Hey, nice wheels."
"We gotta flat."
"Well, that's easy enough."
"It is?"
"What, you dudes some kinda rock stars don't know how to change a fucking tire?" Hon laughed.
"Uhhhhhhh...." said Nathan.
Skwisgaar grunted at the Kachinas. Hon grabbed the jack from him in one great bear paw and tossed it away. Then he grabbed the car in his mighty paws and held it up. "Hey, thanks, dudes!" Skwiagaar enthused, swiftly loosening the bolts that held on the tire. Working with the Kachinas, they swiftly had the car set to rights.
"So what did you say you Dethklok dudes were doing here?" Hon inquired again.
"I ams lookouts for those guys," Skwisgaar supplied, pointing at the bits of skeleton.
"They ain't goin' anywhere soon!" Hon laughed.
"Dose ams da one we ams killed da other day. Dey ams much more of dems where dey comes from," Skwisgaar explained.
Nathan had picked up one of the misshapen skulls. "Whoa! This is kind of cool!" he remarked. A single eye remained in the socket. Kwahu the eagle flapped over to perch on Nathan's shoulder and grabbed the eye in his beak, swallowing it whole. "Hey, dude, that's kind of sick," Nathan muttered. "You don't know where that eye has been."
"Dey ams not so cools when dey ams trying to kill you!" Skwisgaar told him.
"But weren't you here with Queen Raz? She's pretty badass little chick."
"Ja. She ams has no idea where to stabs dem. Deir heads ams where deir asses ams supposed to be."
"Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense."
"But Skwisgaar, dude, why are you in that Form?" Hon asked,
"What's forms? I ain't gots da other forms," Skwisgaar protested.
"Your spirit animal, dude!" Hon told him.
"I don't gots da spirit animals."
"Of course you got a spirit animal! This is Dreamtime, dude!" Skwisgaar looked skeptical, so Hon flapped his great bear arms. "Just fly, dude!"
"Pfft," grumbled Skwisgaar. He half-heartedly flapped his arms, and, indeed suddenly transformed into a mighty hawk.
"Outstanding!" Hon told him. Hawk-Skwisgaar circled, and then flew off with Kwahu the Eagle.
"Don't eat any eyeballs!" Nathan called after him.
"You wanna follow him, dude?" Hon asked.
"Naw," Nathan decided. He considered the skull in his hand. He tossed it away. "Not really interested in finding guys Lady Raz can't kill. I was just kinda bored so I tagged along. My room is filled with molten lava." Nathan bent over and picked up Skwisgaar's discarded fedora.
"Oh, shit, dude, did you go and piss off a volcano goddess?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Nathan grumbled.
"Oh, man, those chicks are volatile! Why don't you find a nice Harvest Maiden or some shit? I could introduce you to my cousin,"
"Yeah, that might be cool," Nathan agreed, tying on the fedora. "Waddya think?" he asked Hon.
"Dude, you kinda look like a big douche bag."
"Dood, can't we like, ask at a gas station?" Pickles was asking. The term "dodgy," as it turned out, meant "war zone." Parts of the rubble were still smoking.
"The street signs are hard to follow here," Raziel explained.
"As most of them appear to have been destroyed," Ganesh observed.
"Heh. Along with the streets," Charles chuckled, as he evidently found destruction amusing.
"Why are da doods fightin' here anyway?"
"There's a war going on in a lot of the universe," Charles told him. He shrugged. "I mean, outside earth."
"And sometimes on earth too," Ganesh grumbled.
"Seraphim tend to be dumb as rocks, but they can cause a lot of damage," Raziel commented.
"What was dat?" Pickles asked. He noticed that Charles and Ganesh had already drawn swords at the sound of the tremor. "Uh, somethin' not good?"
"The guys who did this are still around. Stay the fuck behind me," Charles told him.
"Don't have t' ask me twice," Pickles muttered. Seraphim, in True Form, are not the most subtle of creatures, and there were soon two of them in view. Oddly, they didn't make any pretense of asking something like, "Who goes there?" but instead simply set their swords alight.
Ganesh awkwardly juggled his sword from his right hand to his left. "Fucking bastard Brahma," he grumbled. Charles stepped forward and made a pushing gesture with his hands, and one Seraph was knocked off his feet. "Thanks, mate," Ganesh called, going to finish off the downed creature.
Raziel had set her sword alight, and the other Seraphim fell with a crash.
"You shouldn't fuck with a helpless pregnant lady!" she was shouting at him.
"Raziel, I don't think he can hear you," Charles told her.
"Oh? Why not?"
"Because his body is over here, and his head is way over there."
"Heads roll! Is this my fault too?"
"Raziel! Is this perhaps the address in question?" asked Ganesh.
It was quite a contrast to the library. This building looked like it had been overdue to be knocked down twenty years ago.
They asked a bored clerk - Cherubic, from the looks of him - for her room number. "It's been a long time since that one's had any visitors," he commented.
She looked like a faded photograph.
She was undoubtedly a great beauty in her time. Pickles, who had never seen a female Seraph other than Raziel, knew immediately she was an angel. And that she was quite ill. She didn't look thin, or sick, especially. He had visited dying people in the hospital before, and she didn't look like that. It was more that terrible feeling he remembered from Charles, like her spirit wasn't being held tightly any more, and it was liable to slip away.
He also knew something else.
"Dat ain't her," he whispered to Charles, who nodded. She was tall and lovely, or had been once, but she was definitely not the woman in Aaron's vision.
The room was cramped and dark. There was a bed, and a single rocking chair, positioned so it had a view out of the small window. The woman sat in the chair. She did not attempt to rise when they entered.
"Lady," Raziel said formally, "I am Queen Raziel, of Asgard, Lady of the Seraphim."
"Raziel, my dear," Tazphkiel smiled warmly.
Raziel blinked, apparently taken aback at the informality, but she continued, "These are my companions, My Honored Brother Sariel-"
"Just Sariel is fine," he muttered.
"Shri Ganesha, Lord of Hosts; and Pickles the Drummer."
Pickles cringed internally. He was gonna have to ask Grandma for some foofy title next time he saw her. "Great Kachina of the Drums." That sounded sorta badass.
"I am Lady Tzaphkiel, the Grey."
"I apologize for the apparent rudeness, Lady," Ganesh ventured, "but, have we met?"
"Yeh," Pickles agreed, "Yoo look awfully familiar."
"I think I should have remembered encountering such as you," she told them. Her voice was burnished, and whispery. It was soothing to listen to. "It is possible you have met my twin, Honored Phanuel."
Raziel and Charles exchanged a puzzled glance. "He's your ... twin?" Sariel asked.
"Two of one Creation, male and female, we were. Perhaps it is why I have persisted so long, when my sisters have all passed. I draw from his strength.
"We met Phanuel," Charles told her. "Not too long ago."
"It has been such a long time since I've seen him. Alas, I can no longer depart from this place, as I haven't the strength. And he cannot long tarry in this universe."
Raziel hopped up on the bed. "We have something important to ask. We were sent a vision, and we have reason to believe it was important. We saw Our Father kill a woman. She spoke to him in High Angelic. We thought it was a female Seraph."
Tzaphkiel appeared to be staring out the window. "Twas not a vision. Twas a memory. A very old crime."
"Who was the woman?"
"I need to tell you a story. It's an old story. It is not really mine to tell, but I haven't much time left. You are quite young, all of you."
"Not that young," Raziel laughed,
Tzaphkiel did not respond, but looked at her. In a way, her eyes were just as piercing as those of the angel she called her twin, Phanuel. "You only know of the Creator, or his time. But he was not always alone."
"Wait," Raziel started. "You're kidding me."
"Always two there are," Tzaphkiel told her. "They came here together, no one know how long ago. And He created worlds for Her, such was His love. They thought to fill the worlds with laughing children, I suppose. But there was also sadness, as She was barren. But He was so clever, He worked and worked and gave her children, the most beautiful children ever beheld.
"You mean us?" Raziel asked.
"No. Not you.
Raziel frowned.
"But I am getting ahead of my tale. There were four, originally. Four and four. My Brother and I, we were the last. Two of one Creation. For while the males were strong, there was something lacking in the magic, and the daughters were bright, but faded with time. All my Sisters, they have gone now, as I inevitably shall."
Tzaphkiel was silent for a moment.
"Did He kill one of you?" Charles finally asked.
"No. Listen well. And then, it happened that She became pregnant...."
Long, long ago....
Raziel ran down the golden corridors.
She abruptly skidded to a halt. She turned and ran back to grab her Mommy’s hand.
There were many pretty people here. But Mommy was the prettiest.
This was not Raziel's home, or at least not the place she considered home. Her place was far away, in a lovely garden, where she had many terrific friends, like tigers and wolves and deer and snakes and ravens and elephants. She liked the elephants a lot, they had snuggly trunks.
And there were a lot of terrific green and blue colors, and enticing smells, and great squishy mud that felt good between your toes, and a lot of neat outcroppings to perch on and spy down on happenings below. She lived down there with Mommy, and she would run and swim and fly with her friends.
Mommy couldn’t fly. As she hadn’t any wings. It was peculiar. But she loved her Mommy anyway, even though she was deformed like that.
She didn't really like this other place. It was too shiny. And Mommy always seemed sad. And none of the people would show their wings. Up there, they all had wings, that was pretty obvious, but they'd all tuck them away and shuffle around on their big feet instead. It was peculiar. And they would stare at her, and stare at her wings, as if they had nothing else to do all day.
She tugged at Mommy's hand. She smiled up at Mommy, and Mommy smiled back.
They ended up at one of the big, ugly rooms. There were a bunch of big ugly men there, and the odd man, the one who was wingless, like Mommy.
Raziel especially hated the wingless man. He was especially stupid.
They said some boring stuff. Raziel sat in a chair. Her little legs didn't quite reach the ground, so Mommy kept scolding her not to kick her legs. But Raziel did it anyway. Raziel was not accustomed to being contradicted.
And then she saw it. One of the ugliest men put it out on a table, down below where Raziel and Mommy were sitting.
It was shiny, and so pointy. She liked playing with pointy sticks - they would occasionally wash up in the river. But this one was so sleek and gleaming.
And, best yet, the stupid wingless man said it was a present. For Raziel!
Usually, Raziel had no time for the shiny nonsense up here, but she liked the pointy stick. She reached out to grab it, but Mommy held her back.
"It is time," the stupid man insisted.
"That is not her way," Mommy told him.
"Who is to say what is and is not her way?"
"She is too young."
"She must begin training."
"She is not your tool!"
"Then why don't we let the child choose?"
Raziel struggled against Mommy's grip.
"Raziel!" Mommy scolded, "you must stay away!"
"Why? It's pretty!" Raziel told her. Raziel was not accustomed to being contradicted.
"Yes," the man told her, "Take it, Raziel. It is time."
Raziel suddenly whirled around to him, glaring at him full force.
"No," she said simply folding her small arms.
"i don't understand. Why won't you do as your daddy asks?" the stupid man said.
She blinked at the stupid man with her large, dark eyes.
"Because you're not my daddy," she explained.
There was a sort of commotion between all the boring adults, and at some point, she was all forgotten, and Mommy dropped her hand to argue with someone.
Raziel looked around at the quarreling adults. She broke out her wings, and fluttered down, unnoticed, to the table. She picked up the shiny thing. It was so pretty. And it felt good in her hand, like a part of her arm.
When Raziel went back to her pretty garden this time, Mommy didn’t come along. They told her Mommy was sick.
She never saw Mommy again. Some sad ladies would come and look in on her. Though none of them were as pretty as Mommy.
So she played with her friends. And the new shiny toy.
The present day....
Raziel sat stock still on the edge of the bed. Her dark eyes were narrow.
"Raziel is a daughter of The Goddess?" Charles asked. "That explains some things. A lot of things." His mind reeled with questions. He wanted desperately to talk to Raziel, but knew her well enough to read her mood. She didn't want answers. She wanted blood.
"I watched her, for a time, I and my Honored Sisters. She was a wild and willful child. But the damage had been done. In time, we were sent away."
"Did you ever find out who her father really was?"
"She never said. And he never stepped forward. Though, I have my suspicions."
"He's a Seraph," Raziel stated. Her eyes looked as if they could melt steel. "I don't wanna know."
"Why doesn't she remember?" Charles asked Tzaphkiel.
"I do not know. I heard rumors. After my time. There was a Brother. A terrible one. He can take memories. And give them. I did not know him. I left before I could see this happen."
"He took my mother. And my memories," Raziel growled.
"You are with child now yourself, my dear?"
Raziel looked startled. She nodded.
"I know I am expected to say the pretty thing. The comforting thing. But you know the terrible risk?"
"Yes."
They all felt the tremor. Pickles looked up nervously. Angelic footsteps.
"Lady Tzaphkiel," Ganesh said softly. "You had a child yourself didn't you?"
Tzaphkiel seemed to be struggling to find her words. "Long ago. Soon after I moved here. It was such a terrible scandal. How did you...?"
They were all staring at the Grey angel now. "What happened? With it?" Raziel asked, her voice not much above a whisper.
"Him. To him. It was a son, that much I know. He was.... He was a monster. They never even let me see him." She shook her head sadly. "The angels came, some of my Brothers. They took him away."
Raziel looked up. Charles was gripping her shoulder, very tightly.
"They lied to you." Ganesh told her.
"No, my dear," Tzaphkiel told him.
"They lied. He is no monster," Ganesh insisted.
"Aw holy fuck!" Pickles exclaimed. "Dat's why she looked familiar. Charles! Don't you see?" Charles blinked at him, not comprehending. "I shoulda known! I shoulda known when we walked in da room!"
Charles found he was standing next to Tzaphkiel's chair. And then he found that standing and thinking at the same time were too much of a burden, so he was kneeling by her chair, one hand gripped to the arm of the chair.
Tzaphkiel wrapped her fingers tightly around the chair arm, right next to his hand.
"They never told you he lived?" Ganesh asked her.
"No," she whispered. "Forgive me. Forgive me. If I had known. If I had only known...."
The room shook again with the approaching sound of Seraphic footsteps.
"Lady, I am a physician. Would you possibly allow me to examine your aura more closely?" Ganesh asked Tzaphkiel.
"Of course," the angel told him. Ganesh put a hand lightly on her forehead. "Are you a god of the earth?"
"Yes, Lady."
"Your father was a god, you know," she told Charles. She reached out two tentative, slender fingers, and very carefully smoothed his hair behind his ear. "He was so beautiful."
"My father...." Charles seemed to come around. "Yes! Where is he? Who is he?"
"His universe...." she said sadly. "I don't know if it even exists any more. So many have gone away."
"Sariel!" He felt himself being dragged to his feet. Ganesh was gripping him by the shoulders, staring at him. "I don't think we can transport her," Ganesh whispered. "I think she is too weak. I think trying to jump with her would kill her."
"I won't leave her," Charles said. He had just now realized this was true.
"We can't - the four of us - hold off a Seraphic army!"
"I can't leave. I can't."
"Jaanu. Please."
Raziel slid off the bed and stood before Tzaphkiel. She seemed to be concentrating very hard on something.
"Lady Tzaphkiel of the Seraphim," she said, holding out her hands. "Asgard offers you its protection. Take my hands."
As if she were in a trance, Tzaphkiel slowly rose from her chair. She gripped Queen Raziel's hands.
"Raziel! NO!" Charles screamed, leaping at her. But then there was a terrific tremor, and they were all thrown off their feet.
Charles pulled himself up.
Raziel and Tzaphkiel were no longer in the room.
Ganesh started to laugh.
"What?" Charles asked him.
Ganesh pushed his hair away from his face. It all fell back. "She moved Asgard! Raziel moved Asgard. To where they were standing."
"Can she do that?"
"Apparently."
And then there was a great tremor, as if the world were shaking loose.
Wotan stalked across the front lawn at Valhalla. "What are you up to now, Lady! You've upset my laying hens!" He pulled up short.
"Lord Wotan," Raziel told him. Her arm encircled the waist of a tall female angel. "This is Lady Tzaphkiel of the Seraphim. Mother of Sariel."
The king composed himself, and bowed low. "Welcome to my kingdom, Lady Tzaphkiel," he said in his very best High Angelic.
"Tzaphkiel squeezed Raziel's shoulder. "He's handsome, and he speaks Angelic?" she whispered.
Raziel grinned.
Pickles couldn't breathe. Something was crushing him.
Suddenly the weight was lifted as Charles jumped off of him. Pickles looked up to an alien sky. Part of the structure had crumbled, and a giant Seraph stood grinning at them.
Charles basically grabbed Pickles and threw him to Ganesh. "Get him out if here." He then turned and knocked over the giant angel with a gesture as Ganesh wrested Pickles free of the rubble.
There were more Seraphim outside, or what used to be outside before the building crumbled. Ganesh yelled at Pickles to take cover, and then once again awkwardly juggled his sword from his right to his left hand. He swore an oath at Great Brahma and drove the point of the sword into the ground.
"Come and play, little earth god," snickered the nearest Seraph.
Ganesh made a sweeping gesture, pointing two fingers of his hand. The group of large Seraphim cried out as their swords all suddenly melted in their hands Then Ganesh clapped his hands together, and the ground exploded beneath the angels, sending them sprawling.
"I am Shri Ganesha, acting Lord of Destruction, and I respectfully suggest you do not want to fuck with me!" Ganesh shouted at them.
“That’s actually pretty cool,” Charles told him approvingly.
“Oh, those are my destructive powers. I did not think they would work, so far off world. It is passing odd.”
“Yeah, that is kinda weird, now that you mention it.”
"Doods! Can we mebbe t'ink about, ya know, not dyin'?" Pickles wailed.
"Are you dead, Pickles?" Ganesh politely inquired.
"No!"
"Then we're doing better than usual!" Charles laughed.
Immortals, Pickles decided then and there, were a bunch of douche bags.
So, they had dragged him off to this fucked up part of the universe, far, far from home, and now they were gonna die here, crushed to death by these fucking monster angel dudes, and all fucking Charles and Ganesh could think to do about it was suck each other’s dick about their awesome cool powers. Well, yeah, he supposed it was kind of impressive to know guys who could knock over guys twelve times their size by just waving their hands, but he saw more of the big dudes arriving, and it was just the three of them – the two of them, actually, as Pickles had to admit, he was pretty fucking useless.
Why the fuck hadn’t Raziel just brought them along when she did whatever it was super brutal and amazing thing that she did? Except, she was hopeless at the Walking thing. Even in just a couple months, and not really knowing what he was doing, he was better at it. He probably could have Walked them all there in just a couple of steps, instead of spending all morning being jerked around the universe. And then maybe they could have avoided the whole being killed thing.
Wait.
He could do this. He could do this. Just, whatever they had been doing, stop first and power up, or whatever.
"Enough of dis," Pickles muttered. He focused all his will on one goal, and grabbing a very surprised angel and god tightly by their elbows, took three steps.
They stepped into the Dreamtime.
And then they were in Asgard.
And then he was on his knees, utterly spent, in ways he had never imagined possible. He was breathless. And in tears.
“Whoa,” he recognized Charles’ voice saying. “You’re getting really fucking good at this!”
Somehow, Raziel had already managed to bring Parvati over, and the annoying twins were here as well, and all of them were sitting and showing Tzaphkiel their knitting projects.
Charles stood back and looked at her. He became aware that Ganesh was beside him. "You should spend what time she has with her," the god told him.
"Now, don't listen to Mr. Gloom and Doom," Wotan insisted, giving Charles a rather too enthusiastic by half clap on the back. "My Raziel will get her gossiping with the knitting circle, and then in a few months she'll have babies to cluck over! She'll be with us for a time!"
"Wotan, she is gravely ill. Her spirit...."
"Now, you know damn well, for such as us, that can mean centuries!"
"Wotan, I am simply trying to set expectations..."
Charles noticed Raziel was walking towards the house. He went to intercept her, partly to avoid Ganesh and Wotan's bickering.
"Raziel-"
"We'll keep her up here," she told him, "so she'll be safe, and when the babies come, they'll have a grandmother."
"How do you figure my mother is a grandmother to your kids?"
"Transitivity!" she answered.
He grabbed her arm to stop her.
"Raziel, Our Father...."
"I am going to wait until after my babies come. And then I will hunt him. And then he will die on my sword."
He was holding her by both arms now. She was trembling with fury.
"Raziel," he said very quietly. "You will wait for me. We will do it together."
She did not reply.
"I'm going to need to figure some things out. And I need you to help me. So, we'll figure this out. And then we'll go after Him. Together."
She looked ready to kill, but slowly mastered herself.
"All right. Together," she finally said.
Pickles had just run into Aaron - quite literally, as the boy had nearly tackled him - and received a breathless rundown on the most exciting hunt that had ever happened anywhere in the universe.
He saw the angels talking quietly together on the porch. Except, well, neither one of them.... Actually.... What the fuck were those guys, anyway?
"So, I guess yoo doods ain't what yoo thought?" Pickles asked them.
They blinked at him, uncomprehending.
"I mean, yoo thought yoo were angels, and ... dat ain't entirely troo?" he ventured.
They looked at each other, as if this was genuinely the first time the thought had occurred to either one of them.
They both smiled.
"I dunno, I kinda like being a half angel bastard," Charles grinned. Then just as quickly, he frowned. "Uh, just don't tell my mother I said that, OK?"
Pickles and Raziel exchanged glances. "Dood, yoo know wut we can doo?" Pickles asked Raziel.
"Tell his mom on him!" Raziel replied gleefully.
"Uh, no, guys, you don't wanna do that," Charles protested.
"Why da feck not?" Pickles asked.
"Because.... You wouldn't.... You can't...."
"Oh, we would," Raziel assured him.
"An we totally can!" Pickles laughed. "But, I wanna know one t'ing didn't make sense?"
"Yeah?" said Raziel. "Just one thing?"
"Dood," he asked Raziel, "when you were born? Yoo had wings?"
"That's what Tazphkiel says."
"I mean, wouldn't He know? Da Creator dude? Dat yoo weren't His?"
"Our Father is an idiot," Charles grumbled. "But, yeah, that's probably why they sent her away to the garden."
"Maybe He really loved Her," Raziel said, to the immediate and vocal derision of the two men. "Why don't you guys believe in love?" she wailed.
"As Skwisgaar would say," Charles told her, "Pffft."
"Lady Raz, are yer kids gonna have da little wing deals?" Pickles ventured.
"I dunno. I hope not!" Raziel told him.
"Oh. Why not?"
"Pickles! Toddlers who can fucking fly?" Charles laughed.
"You should hear some of Parvati's stories about Ganesha and Skanda." She held out her hands. "All those little hands."
"Whoa. I hadn't t'ought o' dat."
"Mine are definitely part angel, Raziel told him, patting her tummy. "They sing."
"Uh, wut?"
Raziel grinned and tugged one of Pickles' hands onto her stomach. "Holy feck!" he said.
"Yeah, we're assholes, but we can sing."
"And we got a kick ass library," Charles smiled.
"Don't say kick ass," Pickles warned.
"Have you quite recovered from your adventure, Pickles?" Ganesh, who had just walked over, inquired.
"I fuckin' t'ought we wuz gonna die today!"
"What?" asked Raziel. "When?"
"When yoo feckin' abandonded us!"
"I left you with these two!"
"Yeh! An' dey'd radder have a feckin' conversation dan kill da feckin' angel doods!"
"Oh god," laughed Raziel, "They weren't calling out their attacks, were they?"
"Of course not," Charles scoffed.
"I am da Lord o' Destruction!" Pickles called, waving his hands.
"Amateurs!" Raziel shouted.
"It is the honorable course to identify ones self to one's opponent!" Ganesh groused.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm Bucky, Lord of the Rocks, and now stand still so I can use my Super Gravel Power on you!"
"I believe you will recall that I only stopped to make an identification after I had thoroughly kicked their asses!" Ganesh protested.
"You're gonna let that go?" Charles asked Pickles.
"Let wut go, dood?"
"He just said kick ass."
"Yeh. But, he's cool."
"It's true," Ganesh admitted. "I am very cool."
"Why is he cool and I'm not?" Charles wailed.
"Are you kids coming to dinner or not?" Wotan demanded. "If I have to call again, it's all going to me and Aaron, and believe me, we can finish off the steaks!"
Charles was already off.
"And the vegetarian lasagna," Wotan added.
"The kind with the cream?" Ganesh asked.
"None other."
"I find I am a bit peckish after using my destructive powers," Ganesh remarked as they made for the hall.
There followed a typical Valhallan dinner. Skwisgaar had shown up at the last minute, along within Kwahu, the Eagle Kachina. While Kwahu was having a very happy reunion with Aaron, Lady Raziel had grabbed Skwisgaar by the elbow and led him off for some kind of private debriefing.
And then they were all spread around one of Valhalla's massive dining rooms. Charles had, with one rather terrible scowl, banished the twins to the opposite end of the table. Pickles ended up near where Wotan and Raziel held court, Raziel eagerly reminding one and all that she was now eating for three, and thus eagerly sampling what she liked from Wotan's plate, and as a final measure actually crawling into his lap to get first dibs. And between bites she held forth with a ridiculous tale regarding Skwisgaar's new avocation as a private detective that she swore was completely true, despite rather vocal objections from Charles (who was supposedly there) and Wotan (who was not, though he possessed some knowledge of logic).
Pickles pushed his plate out of the range of a rather eager raven and tried to ignore the tiger who kept brushing him under the table. He wondered idly why Raziel persisted with her tall tales when they had just been given a great one - two, actually - that was also supposed to be completely true.
What was truly odd was that the angels didn't seem at all phased by this. Tzaphkiel, who was evidently fatigued by her adventures this day, had already been helped to her new room, so maybe it was denial? Pickles had to say he agreed with Ganesh's opinion: she didn't look like she was long for this world. It was the same thing he'd seen before in Charles, her spirit just looked like it wanted to fly.
Then Parvati took Pickles aside and had Aaron say good night, and he figured maybe it was his time to maybe slip off as well. He ducked out the back door.
"Pickles."
He turned. Charles was standing there on the porch. "Before you go," he said. He sat down on the steps. "You wanna sit?"
"I'll stand," Pickles told him.
"OK. Uh. Since Aaron's gonna be living up at Parvati's for a while, Ganesh thought you'd like a room at his place."
"Why didn't Ganesh-"
"Because. He wanted me to ask."
"An'.... Gannish don't mind? About us?"
"I don't know. I have to dance about it with him?" Once again, it had trailed off into a question.
"YOO HAVE TO WUT?"
"We have to, uh, dance. It's a long story." Charles put his head in his hands.
Pickles sat down and appeared to consider for a moment. "Dood, is it troo dat yoo kissed Nat'an?"
"What? No! Oh, wait! Shit! Yes! I was drunk. Really, really drunk."
"But, dood. Nat'an?"
"Yeah. But. You guys got me drunk! You fed me beer through a tube!"
"But, it's troo?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's true."
"An' yoo made out wit' Skwisgaar?"
"Uh. Oh. Yeah. But that was under really strange circumstances."
"Naw, dat I unnerstand. I'd totally do Skwisgaar."
"Yeah." They were quiet for a moment. "Did you guys..." Charles ventured.
"It came up at a band meetin'."
"A band meeting?"
"Yeh."
Charles looked skeptical, but Pickles just smiled. "Look," Charles explained "I know it sounds weird, but with all of them, Nathan and Skwisgaar and Toki, it was just these odd one time things-"
"TOKI?"
"Uh. He wasn't at the...? Uh, OK, then you can forget-"
"Dood! Yer a slut!"
"A... I am not! It's.... It's.... You guys...." Charles trailed off, scowling.
"Aw, don't pout dood."
"I AM NOT POUTING!" And quite suddenly, Pickles was on top of him, kissing him. Which turned out, for Charles at least, to be far more pleasant than the discussion.
And then Pickles was standing. He grinned and said, "Tell Gannish I'll take da room. But, yoo gotta change yer ways! Yoo gotta be fait'ful t' me an' Gannish!" And he turned and disappeared
"Faithful to...? Ah, crap."
"What was that?" it was Ganesh's polite voice.
"Oh. Pickles will take the room."
"Splendid."
"And. Uh. I think I need to tell you some stuff."
"Such as?"
"I, uh.... I may have kissed Nathan."
"You do not recall this?"
"No. I did kiss Nathan."
"All right."
"And I sort of made out with Skwisgaar. And Toki."
"I am probably unfamiliar with American slang. Sort of made out?"
"Uh. I kissed Toki. And Skwisgaar. Though not at the same time."
Ganesh blinked. "Yes?"
"No. That's it."
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
Ganesh frowned. "You have lived with five splendid men, for, how many years?"
"A lot."
"And you have not yet fucked the brains out of each and every one?"
"What?"
"Well," Ganesh mused, grabbing Charles up to a standing position. "I suppose we will have to work on this circumstance."
"Wait-"
"It shall be our little project!"
"Ganesh!"
"Skwisgaar shall be quite easy, I believe," Ganesh began, taking Charles' elbow. And they walked off.
It was one of the most beautiful and treasured places in all of creation. It was the angelic library. It contained every story ever imagined, from Creation unto the end of time.
It took less than an hour to burn it to the ground.
It was never to be determined which side was responsible. War tends to cast a fog over such things.
What was lost that day was priceless.
It is said that some of the Ophanim, toiling away in the basement caverns, were able to escape, and that some of them bore away treasures. It was also said at certain of these rare volumes may have made their way to earth, where they were quietly absorbed into one of three great libraries there.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: You can get a lot of information at your public library!!
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing, smoking
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Cross-posted to
capslokdethklok.Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal,
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.A quick summary of what's been happening: The angels have started killing each other again, which is what they do best. Meaning they're kind of neglecting their other duties, such as making sure all of creation doesn't unravel. So it's up to Dethklok to save the universe! Yeah, that bad. Meanwhile, Pickles was sent a vision of the Creator apparently murdering a woman who looks a lot like Raziel. So, they're all going to the library! Oh, and as I promised, this one has an ORIGIN STORY. But, I'm not telling you whose. You'll just have to read, hahaha.
This is how I envision the angelic library.
Library Card (Mythklok, Chapter 30)
Lord Wotan was kissing Lady Raziel's pregnant belly when he became distracted.
She was not really showing, not yet, but he had finally badgered Ganesh into soothing her nausea, so she was no longer looking slightly haggard and thin. Lord Wotan couldn't see inner lights or spirits or any of that nonsense, but he knew when his Lady's skin was pink and warm and her hair was glossy. Thanks to the odd bracelets which she wore even now, though she was wearing little else, her appetite had bounced back, and he would soon have her fat and round, so they would deliver the most chubby infants the world had ever seen, and he could get on with spoiling them absolutely rotten in person, instead of by proxy.
"Yes?" came a voice. He looked up to see Raziel staring inquisitively.
"Are they singin'?" he asked.
She laughed softly and placed her hands lightly down on his head, which he dropped to rest on her stomach. Wotan had lived a very long existence, but he had never heard anything quite so weird and charming: the sweet, pure voices of his children mixed with a angel chorus.
He blinked and looked up again. She had dropped her hands, and the voices had stopped. "All right?" she urged. "Horny pregnant woman here!"
Wotan grinned and carried on.
A while later, as she lay drowsing on top of him, Wotan stroked her hair and told her, "Quite exciting, that my children are off on an adventure before they are even born!"
"An adventure?" Raziel muttered. "We're going to the library."
"Oh, with this company, it will be an adventure."
"Maybe. If Sariel has some overdue books."
"I have heard many stories of your glorious library!"
"You sure you don't wanna come?"
"Now then! I promised a hunt for Aaron! It's about time he learned."
"His old body was pretty bad, you know, so he didn't get to do very much."
"Balderdash! Vulcan is lame, and he's a splendid huntsman!"
"Well, you'll have to tell me how it goes. Will probably be more exciting than paying Sariel's fines."
"Are you cold, jaanu?" Ganesh asked.
"I'm fine," Sariel grinned. They had just arrived at Valhalla. Winter's chill was still in the air, but Sariel, who usually claimed to be little affected by the cold, had dressed in a long wool coat and a knit neck scarf.
Lady Raziel appeared at the front gate. She too was dressed in a long overcoat with a knit scarf. The two angels spotted each other and immediately started pointing and laughing.
Ganesh frowned, utterly puzzled. He spotted Pickles, who had just appeared, hand in hand with Aaron.
"Do you have any idea what is up with those two?" the puzzled god asked Pickles.
"Dood, believe me, it's a joke only dose two t'ink is funny." He looked down at Aaron. "Now, yer gonna be good fer yer Uncle Wotan?"
"IS AARON HERE?" Wotan boomed. He had emerged from the hall and was standing above the boy, looking down at the top of his head. "Are ye quite ready to go on the hunt today?"
Aaron nodded, apparently too stunned to speak.
"I suppose ye have been on many a hunt!" said Wotan.
Aaron shook his head.
"YOU'VE NEVER BEEN ON A HUNT?" Wotan grinned.
The head shaking increased.
"And how old did you tell me you were?" Wotan was now crouching down, so the size difference was not quite as dramatic.
"Eleven and three quarters," Aaron whispered.
"You are eleven and three quarters and you've never been on a hunt? I suppose you're gonna tell me now you've never ridden a horse!"
Aaron, eyes big as dinner plates, continued shaking his head.
"Well, I guess this means you'll need to ride with me on Sleipnir! Did you want to meet Sleipnir now? We'll have to see if he approves of you. He doesn't approve of just anybody!" The head shaking had turned to wild head nodding as Aaron whisked away with Wotan, taking at least three steps to each of the god's long strides.
Pickles stood, alone.
"Bye, Aaron," he said.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Raziel told Pickles, gripping him by the elbow. “He’s been raising boys for centuries, so he know all the silly things they like to do. Now, when my girl comes, it will be a different story! She’s going to learn French, and take ballet class!”
“Why the fuck does Raziel think her daughter is gonna give a shit about fucking ballet?” Sariel grumbled to Ganesh. “Any kid of hers is gonna wanna stab stuff with pointed sticks!”
"Can I just stay here and go along on the hunt with Uncle Wotan?" Ganesh asked wistfully as they disappeared.
"Skwisgaar, why are you wearing that stupid hat? You look like some kind of douche bag."
"I ams not da douche bags, Nat'ans! I ams da hards boiled detectives on da case for da dame wit' da great gams!" Skwisgaar stood in front of a bat wing-bedecked full length mirror at Mordhaus, trying to adjust his fedora to it's jauntiest angle.
"Who?"
"Lady Raziel."
"Eh. Her legs are OK. She's got nice tits."
"She ams my step mom!"
"Yeah. Your step mom has nice tits."
Skwiagaar shrugged. "Ja, I guess so."
"So, where you goin'?"
"I ams starting da case."
"Uhhhhhhh...."
"Pfffft. What's, Nat'ans?"
"Could I go, dude? I'm kinda bored here."
Angels, in the opinion of some quarters, do not have much to recommend them. They are quarrelsome, and can be quite close minded. They stand too much on ceremony, and tend to gossip. They are overmuch distracted by pretty things.
However, they sing beautifully (the ones, who, unlike Raziel, have been gifted with song). And they are responsible for one of the wonders of Creation, the central library.
It looked less a library than a ziggurat, a giant glass pyramid that had been sliced into a dozen neat sections, all interconnecting like a pieces in a giant Tetris game. It was one of the most beautiful structures ever crafted. And it held every story. Not just every book: every story. Including ones not yet dreamed.
"You knew about this place, and you never brought me?" Charles whined.
"Why the fuck would we have ever wanted to go to the fucking library?" Raziel asked him.
"To steal pencils!" And they both started to laugh.
"I'm afraid I do not understand," Ganesh confessed to Pickles.
"Dose two gotta fucked up sense o' humor," Pickles muttered. It had been a bit of walk to get here, as it turned out, with much jerking around from Lady Raziel, so he was in a grumpy mood. She had not much finesse, that one, but she was strong as an ox, so she basically just grabbed you by the collar (sometimes literally) and yanked you from place to place. Charles and Ganesh seemed to be cool with it, or at least to recover quickly, but it knocked the fucking wind out of him. So much so that Ganesh had taken to gripping him lightly by the elbow was they walked. Like he was a weakling or something. Why the fuck had he come on this, anyway? So they could all feel godly?
He sighed as Lady Raziel once again yanked him by the collar.
They were inside. It looked like ... the entrance to a library. There were a couple of bored looking clerks checking out books, and another utterly bored looking clerk monitoring the entrance turnstile.
They stepped forward. Well, three of the stepped forward.
Raziel marched back to confront Charles, who seemed oddly intimidated by the turnstile.
"Uh, I am ... Fallen. You know," he muttered. Pickles stared. He realized of course that Charles was on the outs with the other angels, but this was the first time he could recollect him actually acting a little ashamed about it.
Raziel grabbed him by the collar and dragged him through the turnstile.
"It's a library," she told him brightly. "The Creator doesn't run it, librarians do! Now, come on."
They walked into the main atrium, and joined a small crowd there, just gawping. The building's glass walls seemed to soar up into the heavens. And you could see on every floor book stacks upon book stacks containing endless volumes. It was as to a city of books.
"Is dis like every book?" Pickles asked, feeling a little bit stupid.
"Every book that ever was, all the books that are, and every book never written!" Raziel said proudly.
"Uh, what?"
"I always thought the library at Mordhaus was pretty impressive," said Charles, shaking his head.
"Fortunately, our central library is located in the south, so it escaped damage in the attacks. But, it is nothing to this," Ganesh commented.
"Wanna steal some pencils, Sariel?" Raziel grinned.
"Nah. We wasted a lotta of time getting her today. Let's go talk to Zap Kill, or whatever."
"We may not have this chance again!" she giggled.
They approached one of the glass elevators.
"So, are da librarian doods like dose Cherub doods?" Pickles inquired.
"Oh, no, they're the Ophanim," Raziel told him. She frowned. "Um, you do know what those are, right?"
"I kinda doubt he would," Charles told her. "Nobody learns that useless shit any more."
"Ooooohh. Well. You'll like the Ophanim!" Raziel grinned. The elevator arrived. Pickles had never seen so many elevator buttons. The markings were not in English, but Raziel picked one. He leaned over on the glass to get a better view, and was terribly disappointed when the elevator started to descend.
"Wut da feck?"
"Everything cool in a library happens in the basement!" Raziel cheerily informed them.
"Raziel, how the fuck do you know what goes in in a library?" Charles grumbled.
"I told you Wotan likes playing Stern Librarian and Confused Patron."
"He isn't still trying to master the Dewey Decimal System, is he?" Ganesh grinned.
"Please forget I ever asked you," Charles begged.
The doors opened to what looked like a series of caverns. There was a soft glow of illumination, but the source of the light was unclear.
"Are these stalactites or stalagmites?" Raziel asked.
"I could never remember," Ganesh confessed.
"Whoa! Doods!" exclaimed a no longer disappointed Pickles, as the source of the illumination was now clear. They looked like wheels - old fashioned wagon wheels - spinning and spinning in the air. They also appeared to be on fire, which accounted for the warm, flickery glow.
One appeared to be pushing a cart load of books nearby. "Raziel? You speak Common Angelic," Charles urged.
Raziel babbled something, and the wheel stopped spinning. It was covered in eyes, all of which appeared to be looking them over. It babbled something back in a strange sing-song hiss. Pickles thought it might sound like the crackle of a camp fire. That is, if he'd ever heard a camp fire. Raziel beckoned them to follow her down a pathway. After a bit, the cavern opened up, and they beheld an entire chorus of fiery spinning wheels apparently dancing over piles and piles and still more piles of books.
"My drugs ain't ever bin dis good," Pickles muttered in appreciation.
They crossed the floor to a series of smaller, dead end caves. Offices? Pickles wondered. Somehow, Raziel located the cave of a particularly large round spinning object.
"This must be...." Ganesh began.
"Oh please don't say it!" Charles sighed.
Raziel babbled again to the Chief Ophan Librarian. They continued back and forth for a time. Raziel turned.
"Lady Tzaphkiel has retired from the Library. She is not well. She now lives at a place that's close by, but this guy says it's in the dodgy part of town."
"Wut does dodgy mean?" Pickles worried.
"Oh, you know," said Ganesh. "Seedy and dangerous."
"Uh...." said Pickles.
"You're with two avenging angels and a god! What could happen?" Raziel tutted.
"Why are we changing the fucking tire again?" Nathan grumbled.
"Do you ams sees da gas station?" Skwisgaar inquired, fiddling with the jack.
"Can't you like wave your hand and some babes with big tits will appear to fix it?"
Skwisgaar chuckled. "If there ams da beautiful girls here, ams you gonna fix da tire?"
"Uhhhhhhh, probably not," Nathan admitted.
Nathan looked to the horizon. They were in Pickles' weird Dreamspace - that much he knew. And since Skwisgaar couldn't just pop in and out like Pickles, they'd first gotten a bit high on some kind of weird tea Pickles had left from the kachinas. Murderface had reluctantly granted them the use of his Pink Caddy, and that's where they'd gotten into trouble when they ran over what looked like bone fragments.
"Nathan! Dude!"
Nathan jerked around. It was a bear, with an eagle riding on his shoulder.
"Hon! Kwahu! What are you Kachina dudes doing here?"
"Was gonna ask you the same question, man! Hey, nice wheels."
"We gotta flat."
"Well, that's easy enough."
"It is?"
"What, you dudes some kinda rock stars don't know how to change a fucking tire?" Hon laughed.
"Uhhhhhhh...." said Nathan.
Skwisgaar grunted at the Kachinas. Hon grabbed the jack from him in one great bear paw and tossed it away. Then he grabbed the car in his mighty paws and held it up. "Hey, thanks, dudes!" Skwiagaar enthused, swiftly loosening the bolts that held on the tire. Working with the Kachinas, they swiftly had the car set to rights.
"So what did you say you Dethklok dudes were doing here?" Hon inquired again.
"I ams lookouts for those guys," Skwisgaar supplied, pointing at the bits of skeleton.
"They ain't goin' anywhere soon!" Hon laughed.
"Dose ams da one we ams killed da other day. Dey ams much more of dems where dey comes from," Skwisgaar explained.
Nathan had picked up one of the misshapen skulls. "Whoa! This is kind of cool!" he remarked. A single eye remained in the socket. Kwahu the eagle flapped over to perch on Nathan's shoulder and grabbed the eye in his beak, swallowing it whole. "Hey, dude, that's kind of sick," Nathan muttered. "You don't know where that eye has been."
"Dey ams not so cools when dey ams trying to kill you!" Skwisgaar told him.
"But weren't you here with Queen Raz? She's pretty badass little chick."
"Ja. She ams has no idea where to stabs dem. Deir heads ams where deir asses ams supposed to be."
"Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense."
"But Skwisgaar, dude, why are you in that Form?" Hon asked,
"What's forms? I ain't gots da other forms," Skwisgaar protested.
"Your spirit animal, dude!" Hon told him.
"I don't gots da spirit animals."
"Of course you got a spirit animal! This is Dreamtime, dude!" Skwisgaar looked skeptical, so Hon flapped his great bear arms. "Just fly, dude!"
"Pfft," grumbled Skwisgaar. He half-heartedly flapped his arms, and, indeed suddenly transformed into a mighty hawk.
"Outstanding!" Hon told him. Hawk-Skwisgaar circled, and then flew off with Kwahu the Eagle.
"Don't eat any eyeballs!" Nathan called after him.
"You wanna follow him, dude?" Hon asked.
"Naw," Nathan decided. He considered the skull in his hand. He tossed it away. "Not really interested in finding guys Lady Raz can't kill. I was just kinda bored so I tagged along. My room is filled with molten lava." Nathan bent over and picked up Skwisgaar's discarded fedora.
"Oh, shit, dude, did you go and piss off a volcano goddess?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Nathan grumbled.
"Oh, man, those chicks are volatile! Why don't you find a nice Harvest Maiden or some shit? I could introduce you to my cousin,"
"Yeah, that might be cool," Nathan agreed, tying on the fedora. "Waddya think?" he asked Hon.
"Dude, you kinda look like a big douche bag."
"Dood, can't we like, ask at a gas station?" Pickles was asking. The term "dodgy," as it turned out, meant "war zone." Parts of the rubble were still smoking.
"The street signs are hard to follow here," Raziel explained.
"As most of them appear to have been destroyed," Ganesh observed.
"Heh. Along with the streets," Charles chuckled, as he evidently found destruction amusing.
"Why are da doods fightin' here anyway?"
"There's a war going on in a lot of the universe," Charles told him. He shrugged. "I mean, outside earth."
"And sometimes on earth too," Ganesh grumbled.
"Seraphim tend to be dumb as rocks, but they can cause a lot of damage," Raziel commented.
"What was dat?" Pickles asked. He noticed that Charles and Ganesh had already drawn swords at the sound of the tremor. "Uh, somethin' not good?"
"The guys who did this are still around. Stay the fuck behind me," Charles told him.
"Don't have t' ask me twice," Pickles muttered. Seraphim, in True Form, are not the most subtle of creatures, and there were soon two of them in view. Oddly, they didn't make any pretense of asking something like, "Who goes there?" but instead simply set their swords alight.
Ganesh awkwardly juggled his sword from his right hand to his left. "Fucking bastard Brahma," he grumbled. Charles stepped forward and made a pushing gesture with his hands, and one Seraph was knocked off his feet. "Thanks, mate," Ganesh called, going to finish off the downed creature.
Raziel had set her sword alight, and the other Seraphim fell with a crash.
"You shouldn't fuck with a helpless pregnant lady!" she was shouting at him.
"Raziel, I don't think he can hear you," Charles told her.
"Oh? Why not?"
"Because his body is over here, and his head is way over there."
"Heads roll! Is this my fault too?"
"Raziel! Is this perhaps the address in question?" asked Ganesh.
It was quite a contrast to the library. This building looked like it had been overdue to be knocked down twenty years ago.
They asked a bored clerk - Cherubic, from the looks of him - for her room number. "It's been a long time since that one's had any visitors," he commented.
She looked like a faded photograph.
She was undoubtedly a great beauty in her time. Pickles, who had never seen a female Seraph other than Raziel, knew immediately she was an angel. And that she was quite ill. She didn't look thin, or sick, especially. He had visited dying people in the hospital before, and she didn't look like that. It was more that terrible feeling he remembered from Charles, like her spirit wasn't being held tightly any more, and it was liable to slip away.
He also knew something else.
"Dat ain't her," he whispered to Charles, who nodded. She was tall and lovely, or had been once, but she was definitely not the woman in Aaron's vision.
The room was cramped and dark. There was a bed, and a single rocking chair, positioned so it had a view out of the small window. The woman sat in the chair. She did not attempt to rise when they entered.
"Lady," Raziel said formally, "I am Queen Raziel, of Asgard, Lady of the Seraphim."
"Raziel, my dear," Tazphkiel smiled warmly.
Raziel blinked, apparently taken aback at the informality, but she continued, "These are my companions, My Honored Brother Sariel-"
"Just Sariel is fine," he muttered.
"Shri Ganesha, Lord of Hosts; and Pickles the Drummer."
Pickles cringed internally. He was gonna have to ask Grandma for some foofy title next time he saw her. "Great Kachina of the Drums." That sounded sorta badass.
"I am Lady Tzaphkiel, the Grey."
"I apologize for the apparent rudeness, Lady," Ganesh ventured, "but, have we met?"
"Yeh," Pickles agreed, "Yoo look awfully familiar."
"I think I should have remembered encountering such as you," she told them. Her voice was burnished, and whispery. It was soothing to listen to. "It is possible you have met my twin, Honored Phanuel."
Raziel and Charles exchanged a puzzled glance. "He's your ... twin?" Sariel asked.
"Two of one Creation, male and female, we were. Perhaps it is why I have persisted so long, when my sisters have all passed. I draw from his strength.
"We met Phanuel," Charles told her. "Not too long ago."
"It has been such a long time since I've seen him. Alas, I can no longer depart from this place, as I haven't the strength. And he cannot long tarry in this universe."
Raziel hopped up on the bed. "We have something important to ask. We were sent a vision, and we have reason to believe it was important. We saw Our Father kill a woman. She spoke to him in High Angelic. We thought it was a female Seraph."
Tzaphkiel appeared to be staring out the window. "Twas not a vision. Twas a memory. A very old crime."
"Who was the woman?"
"I need to tell you a story. It's an old story. It is not really mine to tell, but I haven't much time left. You are quite young, all of you."
"Not that young," Raziel laughed,
Tzaphkiel did not respond, but looked at her. In a way, her eyes were just as piercing as those of the angel she called her twin, Phanuel. "You only know of the Creator, or his time. But he was not always alone."
"Wait," Raziel started. "You're kidding me."
"Always two there are," Tzaphkiel told her. "They came here together, no one know how long ago. And He created worlds for Her, such was His love. They thought to fill the worlds with laughing children, I suppose. But there was also sadness, as She was barren. But He was so clever, He worked and worked and gave her children, the most beautiful children ever beheld.
"You mean us?" Raziel asked.
"No. Not you.
Raziel frowned.
"But I am getting ahead of my tale. There were four, originally. Four and four. My Brother and I, we were the last. Two of one Creation. For while the males were strong, there was something lacking in the magic, and the daughters were bright, but faded with time. All my Sisters, they have gone now, as I inevitably shall."
Tzaphkiel was silent for a moment.
"Did He kill one of you?" Charles finally asked.
"No. Listen well. And then, it happened that She became pregnant...."
Long, long ago....
Raziel ran down the golden corridors.
She abruptly skidded to a halt. She turned and ran back to grab her Mommy’s hand.
There were many pretty people here. But Mommy was the prettiest.
This was not Raziel's home, or at least not the place she considered home. Her place was far away, in a lovely garden, where she had many terrific friends, like tigers and wolves and deer and snakes and ravens and elephants. She liked the elephants a lot, they had snuggly trunks.
And there were a lot of terrific green and blue colors, and enticing smells, and great squishy mud that felt good between your toes, and a lot of neat outcroppings to perch on and spy down on happenings below. She lived down there with Mommy, and she would run and swim and fly with her friends.
Mommy couldn’t fly. As she hadn’t any wings. It was peculiar. But she loved her Mommy anyway, even though she was deformed like that.
She didn't really like this other place. It was too shiny. And Mommy always seemed sad. And none of the people would show their wings. Up there, they all had wings, that was pretty obvious, but they'd all tuck them away and shuffle around on their big feet instead. It was peculiar. And they would stare at her, and stare at her wings, as if they had nothing else to do all day.
She tugged at Mommy's hand. She smiled up at Mommy, and Mommy smiled back.
They ended up at one of the big, ugly rooms. There were a bunch of big ugly men there, and the odd man, the one who was wingless, like Mommy.
Raziel especially hated the wingless man. He was especially stupid.
They said some boring stuff. Raziel sat in a chair. Her little legs didn't quite reach the ground, so Mommy kept scolding her not to kick her legs. But Raziel did it anyway. Raziel was not accustomed to being contradicted.
And then she saw it. One of the ugliest men put it out on a table, down below where Raziel and Mommy were sitting.
It was shiny, and so pointy. She liked playing with pointy sticks - they would occasionally wash up in the river. But this one was so sleek and gleaming.
And, best yet, the stupid wingless man said it was a present. For Raziel!
Usually, Raziel had no time for the shiny nonsense up here, but she liked the pointy stick. She reached out to grab it, but Mommy held her back.
"It is time," the stupid man insisted.
"That is not her way," Mommy told him.
"Who is to say what is and is not her way?"
"She is too young."
"She must begin training."
"She is not your tool!"
"Then why don't we let the child choose?"
Raziel struggled against Mommy's grip.
"Raziel!" Mommy scolded, "you must stay away!"
"Why? It's pretty!" Raziel told her. Raziel was not accustomed to being contradicted.
"Yes," the man told her, "Take it, Raziel. It is time."
Raziel suddenly whirled around to him, glaring at him full force.
"No," she said simply folding her small arms.
"i don't understand. Why won't you do as your daddy asks?" the stupid man said.
She blinked at the stupid man with her large, dark eyes.
"Because you're not my daddy," she explained.
There was a sort of commotion between all the boring adults, and at some point, she was all forgotten, and Mommy dropped her hand to argue with someone.
Raziel looked around at the quarreling adults. She broke out her wings, and fluttered down, unnoticed, to the table. She picked up the shiny thing. It was so pretty. And it felt good in her hand, like a part of her arm.
When Raziel went back to her pretty garden this time, Mommy didn’t come along. They told her Mommy was sick.
She never saw Mommy again. Some sad ladies would come and look in on her. Though none of them were as pretty as Mommy.
So she played with her friends. And the new shiny toy.
The present day....
Raziel sat stock still on the edge of the bed. Her dark eyes were narrow.
"Raziel is a daughter of The Goddess?" Charles asked. "That explains some things. A lot of things." His mind reeled with questions. He wanted desperately to talk to Raziel, but knew her well enough to read her mood. She didn't want answers. She wanted blood.
"I watched her, for a time, I and my Honored Sisters. She was a wild and willful child. But the damage had been done. In time, we were sent away."
"Did you ever find out who her father really was?"
"She never said. And he never stepped forward. Though, I have my suspicions."
"He's a Seraph," Raziel stated. Her eyes looked as if they could melt steel. "I don't wanna know."
"Why doesn't she remember?" Charles asked Tzaphkiel.
"I do not know. I heard rumors. After my time. There was a Brother. A terrible one. He can take memories. And give them. I did not know him. I left before I could see this happen."
"He took my mother. And my memories," Raziel growled.
"You are with child now yourself, my dear?"
Raziel looked startled. She nodded.
"I know I am expected to say the pretty thing. The comforting thing. But you know the terrible risk?"
"Yes."
They all felt the tremor. Pickles looked up nervously. Angelic footsteps.
"Lady Tzaphkiel," Ganesh said softly. "You had a child yourself didn't you?"
Tzaphkiel seemed to be struggling to find her words. "Long ago. Soon after I moved here. It was such a terrible scandal. How did you...?"
They were all staring at the Grey angel now. "What happened? With it?" Raziel asked, her voice not much above a whisper.
"Him. To him. It was a son, that much I know. He was.... He was a monster. They never even let me see him." She shook her head sadly. "The angels came, some of my Brothers. They took him away."
Raziel looked up. Charles was gripping her shoulder, very tightly.
"They lied to you." Ganesh told her.
"No, my dear," Tzaphkiel told him.
"They lied. He is no monster," Ganesh insisted.
"Aw holy fuck!" Pickles exclaimed. "Dat's why she looked familiar. Charles! Don't you see?" Charles blinked at him, not comprehending. "I shoulda known! I shoulda known when we walked in da room!"
Charles found he was standing next to Tzaphkiel's chair. And then he found that standing and thinking at the same time were too much of a burden, so he was kneeling by her chair, one hand gripped to the arm of the chair.
Tzaphkiel wrapped her fingers tightly around the chair arm, right next to his hand.
"They never told you he lived?" Ganesh asked her.
"No," she whispered. "Forgive me. Forgive me. If I had known. If I had only known...."
The room shook again with the approaching sound of Seraphic footsteps.
"Lady, I am a physician. Would you possibly allow me to examine your aura more closely?" Ganesh asked Tzaphkiel.
"Of course," the angel told him. Ganesh put a hand lightly on her forehead. "Are you a god of the earth?"
"Yes, Lady."
"Your father was a god, you know," she told Charles. She reached out two tentative, slender fingers, and very carefully smoothed his hair behind his ear. "He was so beautiful."
"My father...." Charles seemed to come around. "Yes! Where is he? Who is he?"
"His universe...." she said sadly. "I don't know if it even exists any more. So many have gone away."
"Sariel!" He felt himself being dragged to his feet. Ganesh was gripping him by the shoulders, staring at him. "I don't think we can transport her," Ganesh whispered. "I think she is too weak. I think trying to jump with her would kill her."
"I won't leave her," Charles said. He had just now realized this was true.
"We can't - the four of us - hold off a Seraphic army!"
"I can't leave. I can't."
"Jaanu. Please."
Raziel slid off the bed and stood before Tzaphkiel. She seemed to be concentrating very hard on something.
"Lady Tzaphkiel of the Seraphim," she said, holding out her hands. "Asgard offers you its protection. Take my hands."
As if she were in a trance, Tzaphkiel slowly rose from her chair. She gripped Queen Raziel's hands.
"Raziel! NO!" Charles screamed, leaping at her. But then there was a terrific tremor, and they were all thrown off their feet.
Charles pulled himself up.
Raziel and Tzaphkiel were no longer in the room.
Ganesh started to laugh.
"What?" Charles asked him.
Ganesh pushed his hair away from his face. It all fell back. "She moved Asgard! Raziel moved Asgard. To where they were standing."
"Can she do that?"
"Apparently."
And then there was a great tremor, as if the world were shaking loose.
Wotan stalked across the front lawn at Valhalla. "What are you up to now, Lady! You've upset my laying hens!" He pulled up short.
"Lord Wotan," Raziel told him. Her arm encircled the waist of a tall female angel. "This is Lady Tzaphkiel of the Seraphim. Mother of Sariel."
The king composed himself, and bowed low. "Welcome to my kingdom, Lady Tzaphkiel," he said in his very best High Angelic.
"Tzaphkiel squeezed Raziel's shoulder. "He's handsome, and he speaks Angelic?" she whispered.
Raziel grinned.
Pickles couldn't breathe. Something was crushing him.
Suddenly the weight was lifted as Charles jumped off of him. Pickles looked up to an alien sky. Part of the structure had crumbled, and a giant Seraph stood grinning at them.
Charles basically grabbed Pickles and threw him to Ganesh. "Get him out if here." He then turned and knocked over the giant angel with a gesture as Ganesh wrested Pickles free of the rubble.
There were more Seraphim outside, or what used to be outside before the building crumbled. Ganesh yelled at Pickles to take cover, and then once again awkwardly juggled his sword from his right to his left hand. He swore an oath at Great Brahma and drove the point of the sword into the ground.
"Come and play, little earth god," snickered the nearest Seraph.
Ganesh made a sweeping gesture, pointing two fingers of his hand. The group of large Seraphim cried out as their swords all suddenly melted in their hands Then Ganesh clapped his hands together, and the ground exploded beneath the angels, sending them sprawling.
"I am Shri Ganesha, acting Lord of Destruction, and I respectfully suggest you do not want to fuck with me!" Ganesh shouted at them.
“That’s actually pretty cool,” Charles told him approvingly.
“Oh, those are my destructive powers. I did not think they would work, so far off world. It is passing odd.”
“Yeah, that is kinda weird, now that you mention it.”
"Doods! Can we mebbe t'ink about, ya know, not dyin'?" Pickles wailed.
"Are you dead, Pickles?" Ganesh politely inquired.
"No!"
"Then we're doing better than usual!" Charles laughed.
Immortals, Pickles decided then and there, were a bunch of douche bags.
So, they had dragged him off to this fucked up part of the universe, far, far from home, and now they were gonna die here, crushed to death by these fucking monster angel dudes, and all fucking Charles and Ganesh could think to do about it was suck each other’s dick about their awesome cool powers. Well, yeah, he supposed it was kind of impressive to know guys who could knock over guys twelve times their size by just waving their hands, but he saw more of the big dudes arriving, and it was just the three of them – the two of them, actually, as Pickles had to admit, he was pretty fucking useless.
Why the fuck hadn’t Raziel just brought them along when she did whatever it was super brutal and amazing thing that she did? Except, she was hopeless at the Walking thing. Even in just a couple months, and not really knowing what he was doing, he was better at it. He probably could have Walked them all there in just a couple of steps, instead of spending all morning being jerked around the universe. And then maybe they could have avoided the whole being killed thing.
Wait.
He could do this. He could do this. Just, whatever they had been doing, stop first and power up, or whatever.
"Enough of dis," Pickles muttered. He focused all his will on one goal, and grabbing a very surprised angel and god tightly by their elbows, took three steps.
They stepped into the Dreamtime.
And then they were in Asgard.
And then he was on his knees, utterly spent, in ways he had never imagined possible. He was breathless. And in tears.
“Whoa,” he recognized Charles’ voice saying. “You’re getting really fucking good at this!”
Somehow, Raziel had already managed to bring Parvati over, and the annoying twins were here as well, and all of them were sitting and showing Tzaphkiel their knitting projects.
Charles stood back and looked at her. He became aware that Ganesh was beside him. "You should spend what time she has with her," the god told him.
"Now, don't listen to Mr. Gloom and Doom," Wotan insisted, giving Charles a rather too enthusiastic by half clap on the back. "My Raziel will get her gossiping with the knitting circle, and then in a few months she'll have babies to cluck over! She'll be with us for a time!"
"Wotan, she is gravely ill. Her spirit...."
"Now, you know damn well, for such as us, that can mean centuries!"
"Wotan, I am simply trying to set expectations..."
Charles noticed Raziel was walking towards the house. He went to intercept her, partly to avoid Ganesh and Wotan's bickering.
"Raziel-"
"We'll keep her up here," she told him, "so she'll be safe, and when the babies come, they'll have a grandmother."
"How do you figure my mother is a grandmother to your kids?"
"Transitivity!" she answered.
He grabbed her arm to stop her.
"Raziel, Our Father...."
"I am going to wait until after my babies come. And then I will hunt him. And then he will die on my sword."
He was holding her by both arms now. She was trembling with fury.
"Raziel," he said very quietly. "You will wait for me. We will do it together."
She did not reply.
"I'm going to need to figure some things out. And I need you to help me. So, we'll figure this out. And then we'll go after Him. Together."
She looked ready to kill, but slowly mastered herself.
"All right. Together," she finally said.
Pickles had just run into Aaron - quite literally, as the boy had nearly tackled him - and received a breathless rundown on the most exciting hunt that had ever happened anywhere in the universe.
He saw the angels talking quietly together on the porch. Except, well, neither one of them.... Actually.... What the fuck were those guys, anyway?
"So, I guess yoo doods ain't what yoo thought?" Pickles asked them.
They blinked at him, uncomprehending.
"I mean, yoo thought yoo were angels, and ... dat ain't entirely troo?" he ventured.
They looked at each other, as if this was genuinely the first time the thought had occurred to either one of them.
They both smiled.
"I dunno, I kinda like being a half angel bastard," Charles grinned. Then just as quickly, he frowned. "Uh, just don't tell my mother I said that, OK?"
Pickles and Raziel exchanged glances. "Dood, yoo know wut we can doo?" Pickles asked Raziel.
"Tell his mom on him!" Raziel replied gleefully.
"Uh, no, guys, you don't wanna do that," Charles protested.
"Why da feck not?" Pickles asked.
"Because.... You wouldn't.... You can't...."
"Oh, we would," Raziel assured him.
"An we totally can!" Pickles laughed. "But, I wanna know one t'ing didn't make sense?"
"Yeah?" said Raziel. "Just one thing?"
"Dood," he asked Raziel, "when you were born? Yoo had wings?"
"That's what Tazphkiel says."
"I mean, wouldn't He know? Da Creator dude? Dat yoo weren't His?"
"Our Father is an idiot," Charles grumbled. "But, yeah, that's probably why they sent her away to the garden."
"Maybe He really loved Her," Raziel said, to the immediate and vocal derision of the two men. "Why don't you guys believe in love?" she wailed.
"As Skwisgaar would say," Charles told her, "Pffft."
"Lady Raz, are yer kids gonna have da little wing deals?" Pickles ventured.
"I dunno. I hope not!" Raziel told him.
"Oh. Why not?"
"Pickles! Toddlers who can fucking fly?" Charles laughed.
"You should hear some of Parvati's stories about Ganesha and Skanda." She held out her hands. "All those little hands."
"Whoa. I hadn't t'ought o' dat."
"Mine are definitely part angel, Raziel told him, patting her tummy. "They sing."
"Uh, wut?"
Raziel grinned and tugged one of Pickles' hands onto her stomach. "Holy feck!" he said.
"Yeah, we're assholes, but we can sing."
"And we got a kick ass library," Charles smiled.
"Don't say kick ass," Pickles warned.
"Have you quite recovered from your adventure, Pickles?" Ganesh, who had just walked over, inquired.
"I fuckin' t'ought we wuz gonna die today!"
"What?" asked Raziel. "When?"
"When yoo feckin' abandonded us!"
"I left you with these two!"
"Yeh! An' dey'd radder have a feckin' conversation dan kill da feckin' angel doods!"
"Oh god," laughed Raziel, "They weren't calling out their attacks, were they?"
"Of course not," Charles scoffed.
"I am da Lord o' Destruction!" Pickles called, waving his hands.
"Amateurs!" Raziel shouted.
"It is the honorable course to identify ones self to one's opponent!" Ganesh groused.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm Bucky, Lord of the Rocks, and now stand still so I can use my Super Gravel Power on you!"
"I believe you will recall that I only stopped to make an identification after I had thoroughly kicked their asses!" Ganesh protested.
"You're gonna let that go?" Charles asked Pickles.
"Let wut go, dood?"
"He just said kick ass."
"Yeh. But, he's cool."
"It's true," Ganesh admitted. "I am very cool."
"Why is he cool and I'm not?" Charles wailed.
"Are you kids coming to dinner or not?" Wotan demanded. "If I have to call again, it's all going to me and Aaron, and believe me, we can finish off the steaks!"
Charles was already off.
"And the vegetarian lasagna," Wotan added.
"The kind with the cream?" Ganesh asked.
"None other."
"I find I am a bit peckish after using my destructive powers," Ganesh remarked as they made for the hall.
There followed a typical Valhallan dinner. Skwisgaar had shown up at the last minute, along within Kwahu, the Eagle Kachina. While Kwahu was having a very happy reunion with Aaron, Lady Raziel had grabbed Skwisgaar by the elbow and led him off for some kind of private debriefing.
And then they were all spread around one of Valhalla's massive dining rooms. Charles had, with one rather terrible scowl, banished the twins to the opposite end of the table. Pickles ended up near where Wotan and Raziel held court, Raziel eagerly reminding one and all that she was now eating for three, and thus eagerly sampling what she liked from Wotan's plate, and as a final measure actually crawling into his lap to get first dibs. And between bites she held forth with a ridiculous tale regarding Skwisgaar's new avocation as a private detective that she swore was completely true, despite rather vocal objections from Charles (who was supposedly there) and Wotan (who was not, though he possessed some knowledge of logic).
Pickles pushed his plate out of the range of a rather eager raven and tried to ignore the tiger who kept brushing him under the table. He wondered idly why Raziel persisted with her tall tales when they had just been given a great one - two, actually - that was also supposed to be completely true.
What was truly odd was that the angels didn't seem at all phased by this. Tzaphkiel, who was evidently fatigued by her adventures this day, had already been helped to her new room, so maybe it was denial? Pickles had to say he agreed with Ganesh's opinion: she didn't look like she was long for this world. It was the same thing he'd seen before in Charles, her spirit just looked like it wanted to fly.
Then Parvati took Pickles aside and had Aaron say good night, and he figured maybe it was his time to maybe slip off as well. He ducked out the back door.
"Pickles."
He turned. Charles was standing there on the porch. "Before you go," he said. He sat down on the steps. "You wanna sit?"
"I'll stand," Pickles told him.
"OK. Uh. Since Aaron's gonna be living up at Parvati's for a while, Ganesh thought you'd like a room at his place."
"Why didn't Ganesh-"
"Because. He wanted me to ask."
"An'.... Gannish don't mind? About us?"
"I don't know. I have to dance about it with him?" Once again, it had trailed off into a question.
"YOO HAVE TO WUT?"
"We have to, uh, dance. It's a long story." Charles put his head in his hands.
Pickles sat down and appeared to consider for a moment. "Dood, is it troo dat yoo kissed Nat'an?"
"What? No! Oh, wait! Shit! Yes! I was drunk. Really, really drunk."
"But, dood. Nat'an?"
"Yeah. But. You guys got me drunk! You fed me beer through a tube!"
"But, it's troo?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's true."
"An' yoo made out wit' Skwisgaar?"
"Uh. Oh. Yeah. But that was under really strange circumstances."
"Naw, dat I unnerstand. I'd totally do Skwisgaar."
"Yeah." They were quiet for a moment. "Did you guys..." Charles ventured.
"It came up at a band meetin'."
"A band meeting?"
"Yeh."
Charles looked skeptical, but Pickles just smiled. "Look," Charles explained "I know it sounds weird, but with all of them, Nathan and Skwisgaar and Toki, it was just these odd one time things-"
"TOKI?"
"Uh. He wasn't at the...? Uh, OK, then you can forget-"
"Dood! Yer a slut!"
"A... I am not! It's.... It's.... You guys...." Charles trailed off, scowling.
"Aw, don't pout dood."
"I AM NOT POUTING!" And quite suddenly, Pickles was on top of him, kissing him. Which turned out, for Charles at least, to be far more pleasant than the discussion.
And then Pickles was standing. He grinned and said, "Tell Gannish I'll take da room. But, yoo gotta change yer ways! Yoo gotta be fait'ful t' me an' Gannish!" And he turned and disappeared
"Faithful to...? Ah, crap."
"What was that?" it was Ganesh's polite voice.
"Oh. Pickles will take the room."
"Splendid."
"And. Uh. I think I need to tell you some stuff."
"Such as?"
"I, uh.... I may have kissed Nathan."
"You do not recall this?"
"No. I did kiss Nathan."
"All right."
"And I sort of made out with Skwisgaar. And Toki."
"I am probably unfamiliar with American slang. Sort of made out?"
"Uh. I kissed Toki. And Skwisgaar. Though not at the same time."
Ganesh blinked. "Yes?"
"No. That's it."
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
Ganesh frowned. "You have lived with five splendid men, for, how many years?"
"A lot."
"And you have not yet fucked the brains out of each and every one?"
"What?"
"Well," Ganesh mused, grabbing Charles up to a standing position. "I suppose we will have to work on this circumstance."
"Wait-"
"It shall be our little project!"
"Ganesh!"
"Skwisgaar shall be quite easy, I believe," Ganesh began, taking Charles' elbow. And they walked off.
It was one of the most beautiful and treasured places in all of creation. It was the angelic library. It contained every story ever imagined, from Creation unto the end of time.
It took less than an hour to burn it to the ground.
It was never to be determined which side was responsible. War tends to cast a fog over such things.
What was lost that day was priceless.
It is said that some of the Ophanim, toiling away in the basement caverns, were able to escape, and that some of them bore away treasures. It was also said at certain of these rare volumes may have made their way to earth, where they were quietly absorbed into one of three great libraries there.
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no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 01:04 am (UTC)I thought Raz might have a mom!
"I am Shri Ganesha, acting Lord of Destruction, and I respectfully suggest you do not want to fuck with me!"
I so snorted my tea when I read that line!
Yay! Can't wait for the next one!
no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 01:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 02:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-13 04:47 am (UTC)I just thought, what if its like one of those Adam things where the father took a rib from him to make the other "New Ones?" OMG that'd crack me up knowing Lucifer was made from Sariel!