![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Weird Children (Mythklok, Chapter 33) (Part 1 of 2)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary:
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, pretty bad swearing - and potty-mouth will only get worse next chapter, so you have been warned.
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Cross-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
capslokdethklok.
I'm at a Con this weekend, and this got kinda long, so I'll post a bit tonight, and the rest some time tomorrow.
NOTE: This was the first chapter I started since I moved to my new, brain-eating job. I don't know if that was a factor, but I am not happy with it at all, and at some point, will either rewrite it, or hit it in the head with a shovel and bury it in the back yard. IF YOU FEEL YOU'RE GETTING STUCK HERE, just read the beginning bits of this part, and the ending of Part 2, and then skip ahead to Chapter 34. Really, go ahead. Nobody's looking.
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU in which Charles is Sariel, an angel who fell to earth and subsequently got adopted by a death metal band. 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.
Last time, Nathan kinda spilled the beans over Charles being an angel and all that, so Charles had to go on Nick Ibsen's show and field questions from the teeming masses. Which was horrible, because he hates the teeming masses. Oh, and Seth declared himself Grand Duke of Australia, and he and some angel buddies destroyed New Zealand, which much annoyed the many sheeps and Hobbits there. Yeah, what a douche bag.
Just an FYI, in order to understand something that happens here, you need to have read the Interstitial Clarence Sends His Regards. I expected that to be a one shot back when I wrote it but as it turns out, it’s gonna be important.
Weird Children
Part 1 of 2
The tall man knelt down and carefully traced the symbols in rooster blood on the floor of the darkened room. What was done must be done with utmost care. He pushed back his top hat had wiped some sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
The door slammed open. "Are you fucking done yet?" The interloper was shorter. He was dressed all in green and black, and wore a pair of machetes on his belt.
"I will never be fucking done if you keep fucking interrupting," sighed the man in the hat. "What the fuck?"
"Are you sure it's even fucking him?" the man with the machetes insisted. "I been fucking looking a long fucking time!"
The tall man sighed. He stood and, wiping the blood from his hands onto a rag, clicked on a television remote. A monitor in the darkened room displayed a video of two men sitting at a desk, deep in conversation.
"My father wasn't an angel. Evidently."
"Forbidden love?"
"Uh. Maybe."
The man in the hat clicked the pause button.
"He looks like an asshole," the man with the machetes declared. "Who the fuck wears fucking suspenders these days?"
The man in the hat sighed. "Not that asshole. The other asshole."
"Oh. The cocksucker with the fucked up eyes?"
"Yeah. The cocksucker with the fucked up eyes. Now, you gonna get the fuck outta here so I can cast this fucking spell?"
"Well, what are you fucking waiting for? Hurry the fuck up!" And with that, the guy with the machetes stomped out of the room, slamming the fucking door behind him.
"Fucking motherfucker," muttered the man in the hat, returning to his rooster blood.
Tzaphkiel was sitting out in a chair in the front garden at Valhalla. Raziel had threatened the animals with a painful death lest they annoy her in any way, so a single wolf rested a polite distance from her feet. Freki was not so reticent with Sariel: when the angel came to sit near her, he got a full nosing before the beast could be persuaded (in bad Swedish) to seat itself.
After a time Sariel was able to open the book he held, and he began reading.
Ganesh, watching from the window, turned around and said, "I am concerned about him."
Raziel and Pickles looked up from what they were doing (respectively, knitting very poorly, and nothing in particular), exchanged a puzzled glance. They shrugged, and went back to what they were or weren't doing.
"You two do not share my concern?"
"Dood, we make a point not t' be concerned."
"Sariel and I have had centuries of not being concerned about one another. It's worked very well!"
"He has become acquainted with his mother after a long lifetime," Ganesh persisted. "And yet when they come together, they do not even speak?"
"Wut did yoo expect, dood?" Pickles inquired.
"Ganesha," Raziel sighed. "Look. They are two of the stiffest people in all of Creation! You thought they would hug?"
"Ha! Charles would taser yer ass if yoo got dat close!"
“You think he’d taser his mom?" Raziel grinned.
“Dood! He’d totally taser his mom!”
Raziel frowned. "I could send Wotan to go hug them. He's a hugger."
"Ew! Really?"
"Yeah, stay away when he's in a mood, you'll get squished."
"Still," Ganesh interjected. "Wouldn't you think there would be ... questions?"
"Ganesha, does Tzaphkiel look like she's contented?" Raziel asked.
Ganesh looked out the window. Tzaphkiel leaned over and tentatively smoothed a hair that had gotten microscopically out of place on her son's head. Sariel did not look up. She leaned back.
"Her aura brightens in his presence, yes."
"Sariel does what Sariel does. That's the way it's been since forever. And I suspect she's pretty much the same."
"An' she's pretty sick, huh?" Pickles asked. "She looks like what da Hopi would say is ready t' leave da husk behind."
"The Hopi are full of shit," Ganesh grumbled.
"Wut, dood?" Pickles asked.
"The physical being is not a husk for the soul," Ganesh raved, waving a finger. "There is an interaction, body to spirit!"
"Da earthly shell is jest illusory, dood!"
Ganesh turned around. "Is not!"
"Is so!"
Raziel grinned. She hadn't thought she cared for philosophy, but if it meant a fistfight, she might be more inclined.
"Sariel, I need to speak with ye," Wotan had told him. There were cigars and Scotch involved, so Sariel eagerly agreed.
"I've been growing increasingly concerned with those rogue angels in Australia," Wotan explained.
"Probably for good reason. Seth is fucking nuts," Sariel supplied helping himself to a lovely-smelling Cuban.
"I have been attempting to effect this slowly, but it looks like we may have to increase the pace. I have been trying to contact other pantheons, to get us in agreement, a kind of alliance. Would you be willin’ to go talk to one of them for me? There’s a limit to what me and my Raziel can do. My Lady isn't supposed to go adventuring just now."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T GO?" wailed Raziel, who had appeared upon her mention.
"Now, remember, Lady, Ganesh was sayin' that he didn't want you jumping about too much at this stage of the pregnancy?"
"Yes, and you called Ganesh an over protective nanny!"
"Well, aye, when he's sayin' Sariel can't smoke a cigar with me, he's bein' an over protective nanny," Wotan replied. Sariel cheerfully blew smoke. "When he says for you to stop jumping around, he's bein' reasonable and conservative."
"I sense inconsistency," Raziel scolded, hopping up to sit on the arm of Wotan’s chair.
"Gotta get ready for when the children come!" he smiled, patting her pregnant stomach. "That's the secret of raisin' two," he told Sariel, "Gotta keep 'em guessing! Can't let 'em know what you're thinkin' from week to week. Who's gonna be the favorite? Will drive em crazy."
"Well, they are gonna be conniving little angels," Sariel agreed.
"The secret of fatherhood: strategic thinking," Wotan declared, tapping his forehead with an index finger.
"Sariel despises children," Raziel explained.
"Yeah. I do."
"Have you figured how you're gonna be uncle to our two?" Wotan asked.
"I'm not really...."
"You don't enjoy seein' Brahma and Ganesh tangle?" asked Wotan, taking a swig of Scotch.
"No, it's awesome," Sariel agreed. "But.... Wait...."
"Children need at least one irascible relative!" Wotan declared.
"And Wotan's gonna spoil 'em rotten," Raziel,supplied.
"It's true! They will be the most coddled children in existence!" Wotan agreed. "Their every whim indulged."
"So it'll be up to you to annoy them."
"Remind them of their shortcomings! Even if you have to make 'em up!"
"Hrm, " said Sariel.
"But I still think I could go adventuring," Raziel pouted.
"Well, Ganesh didn't say you had to completely stop jumping. Maybe if you cut down on those shopping expeditions!"
"I can't quit shopping! You can't expect Sariel to dress himself."
"WHAT?" said Sariel, turning the world's finest single malt to spittle.
"Well, ye were lettin' Sarasvati hand feed ya the other day," Wotan told Sariel. "Ain't much in an appealing to dignity after that one."
Sariel grinned. "Don't want my Auntie Sarasvari to think I'm pining away. I'm her favorite."
"You're whose favorite?" Ganesh asked irritably, thumping down on the couch next to Sariel.
"We're going on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan," Sariel told him.
"To where?" asked Ganesh, grabbing away his Scotch and taking a sip.
"Actually, I had a much closer locality in mind," Wotan laughed.
On a balcony overlooking Wotan's vast holdings at Valhalla, a half-breed angel and a god stood, discussing diplomacy.
"Fucking Wotan," Sarriel grumbled. "How does he always talk me into this bullshit?"
"You are a lawyer, jaanu," Ganesh smiled. "I would think you would be less attentive to Wotan's liquor and cigars, and mores to the particulars beforehand."
"You are coming along! If I gotta see that fucking asshole, you are fucking coming with me!"
Ganesh smiled. "I believe it will be possible to set aside some days from my workplace, yes."
"Oh. Sorry. I keep forgetting you're not a ne'er do well like fucking Raziel."
Ganesh looked out over the balcony. "You dislike my cousin that much?"
"Do you like him?"
"No."
"Always reliving the fucking glory days. Yeah, things were great when you had a million slaves to whip with your shepherd fucking thing."
"I believe they are correctly termed the crook and flail."
"Little Bo Fucking Peep."
"Whether or not he is in a diminished state, he still possesses quite a retinue. I have heard that Lady Bast and her entourage are now in his service. Wotan is wise to ask for his alliance."
"I wish he'd sent Raziel instead. Maybe she and Bast could discuss knitting adorable sword cosies."
"My fault, I am afraid. I ask that the Lady restrict her magical travel."
"He could put her on a slow boat instead! Do us all a favor!"
Ganesh laughed. "My father always said, one must exercise caution when dealing with the Elder Gods. Their view of morality can be ... eccentric."
"Eh. It's just Bast and Osiris. Not fucking Cthulhu." Sariel considered Ganesh. "You miss your dad?"
Ganesh frowned. "Yes. I do sometimes. A lot of the time, I suppose. The relationship has not been an easy one. But I feel of late I may have gained some greater insights."
They were quiet for a moment. "The worst part is," Sariel said at length, "if we're going to visit Osiris, we gotta drag those creepy twins along. I bet Raziel put him up to this."
"You are still distressed by Isis and Nephthys' misbehavior?"
"Those girls are deranged."
"Still, it is at base just a bit of hero worship. A crush. You must have experienced something like this in the past?"
"No! This is why I've tried to keep myself hidden. Why I stay in the background!"
Ganesh leaned against the balustrade and studied the angel. He thought Sariel seemed unduly agitated. "Is that why you have become so efficient at tucking away your magic when you go to Court Form?"
"I dunno."
"We gods, too, take on different Forms, as often when we walk among the humans. Even Lord Wotan, who looks much like a human. There is a similar phenomenon with angels in Court Form. But, in either case, no matter the changes in physical Form, the auras do not change so dramatically."
"Not that aura crap again." Sariel was scowling out at something fascinating on the lawn.
"You are an exception. You seem almost like two different people. It's astonishing. I am not even certain how you do it."
"Ganesh! Stop. I am not your fucking high school science project." He focused he glare on Ganesh. "I let you touch my wings. Just back off on this."
"You are not curious yourself about this?" Ganesh persisted, wielding his most effective glare-melting smile. "You seem eager to poke around in Uriah's diseased mind for your origins."
"That's different," Sariel said, his glare indeed shaken by the zen master of utilizing kindness as a deadly weapon. "I wanna know who to blame." He turned and looked back across the lands. "I wanna know who to kill."
They were silent again.
Ganesh leaned over and began kissing Sariel. "I need to turn in my science homework," he murmured, to the angel's laugh. "Extra credit."
Ganesh grabbed Sariel by the waist and tugged him up so he sat on the balustrade. The angel wrapped his legs around Ganesh, who pressed against him and began pulling at his clothes.
"Really? Off the balcony?" Sariel whispered, glancing downwards.
"Mm. Afraid I might drop you?"
"You just want another chapter for the Kama Sutra."
Ganesh twined his fingers the Sariel's hair. "You are my favorite educational resource."
Charles tried to think of a list of places he'd rather be right now.
Trouble was, the list was pretty much infinite.
Raziel brought in Isis and Nephthys and sat them down. Isis actually simpered at him, although he got a scowl from Nephthys. Well, at least they're not acting like one person today, he thought. Isis's hair was a bright robin's egg blue today. Sariel thought she was definitely using magic on it. A good way to end up bald, he reflected.
Since the Nick Ibsen interview he had been forced to reconcile himself with more unwanted attention. He even received fan mail these days, and though it was an order of magnitude less than any member of the band, it was still considerable. Mixed in with the death threats and marriage offers were a few coherent messages.
The most compelling of all, to Charles, were the ones from a few humans containing memories of encounters with very strange friends or lovers: people who never seemed to age, and then one day left with no word.
He had instructed the Klokateers who now handled such mail - some of them were in fact drawn from among his own Cherubim and Ophanim - to answer each and every letter in exactly the same manner: a polite response that said, although he no longer had time to personally respond to unsolicited mail, he did read every piece. He didn't want to alienate any fans or potential fans.
But, well, unwelcome attention. It chafed.
“I’m not mad at you,” he began.
“We’re mad at you!” Nephthys spat. Isis looked a bit more uncertain.
“What?” snorted Raziel, who had started to rise from her chair.
Charles held up a hand to stay Raziel from stabbing anybody. “Let’s hear what she has to say,” he said very quietly.
“You totally disrespected us," Nephthys huffed.
“And I firmly believe you have disrespected yourselves.”
“We chose you.”
“Yes. That isn’t a decision one makes unilaterally.” Unilaterally? he thought. But, there are two of them. Bilaterally? “That kind of thing is called sexual assault, and it’s not looked up on favorably in the modern world.” He steepled his hands and turned his neutral gaze to a glare, medium style.
“Yeah. You think people are gonna believe WE, like, tried to rape YOU?”
“You two possess the powers of life and death. You don’t think someone would potentially find that threatening?”
“That’s why we don’t want the powers any more, you know,” Isis whispered.
He looked over at Isis, still trying to keep his voice low. “So, you were trying to extinguish your powers?”
Nephthys looked daggers, but Isis nodded.
“Wait. You guys gotta realize that it isn’t that simple?” Raziel asked.
Isis nodded sadly. “We could lose ‘em. Or stay the same.”
“Or get stronger,” Nephthys concluded.
"Why wouldn't you want your powers?" Raziel asked.
"I could have, like, killed Aaron, for one." Nephthys gazed unhappily at her own hands. "I'm tired of having all this fucking power, you know?"
"So, what if you ended up getting super powered?" said Raziel.
"You would have, like helped us and stuff, right?" Isis asked Charles.
"No," he said.
"What?" said Nephthys. "We've seen you help Toki!"
"Dethklok are humans. When you take responsibility for humans, you take them on for their lives, even if it is at the cost of your own life. This is another thing you should know, but it doesn't seem to have sunk in. I'm watching Dethklok. It is an awesome responsibility. I am not taking new clients."
Nephthys rose.
"I could kill you, you know" she declared.
Charles followed her with his eyes. "I doubt it."
"You just claimed you were scared of us!"
"Should I be?"
Nephthys sat. Her eyes were teary. "No," she said, in a very small voice.
"You want orders on how to live your life? OK. We're all going to see your brother. This visit is very important. You will come along and be pleasant, even if you don't feel particularly pleasant. Because you are adults, and that's what we adults occasionally have to do. Is this understood?" The glare flared thermonuclear.
They nodded sheepishly, and both girls departed.
"I know why they're not sleeping with Toki," Charles sighed. "They don't wanna boyfriend. They want a master. No wonder they're still kids."
"It's such bullshit!” Raziel grumbled.
“What?”
“Eh. Virgin goddesses. Male gods never have that problem!”
“That’s true. Or at least….” Charles frowned. “Male humans do.”
“What?”
“You’ve heard of Galahad?”
“Wasn’t he one of those Round Table guys?” Charles nodded. “Wotan says Arthur was a douche bag. They were all religious nuts or something.”
“Galahad kept himself pure.”
“What, did he drink bleach or something?”
“He never had sex.”
“Oh. Oh, creepy! Yuck!”
“Why is that creepy? Ganesh doesn’t eat meat.”
Raziel grinned. “Yeah, but he eats other things. So I’ve heard.”
Charles found himself smiling too. “OK. Point.”
"What was the point?"
"Oh. Toki."
"Oh, god. But, I mean, I suppose it's his choice."
"Yeah, but, Galahad? Percival? Those guys didn't come to such a good end."
They had been banned from Mordhaus.
But such as them did not consider such a ban enforceable.
Lord Ganesh was correct. The morality of Elder Gods were often inscrutable, even to other gods.
And the angel, Sariel, these days, often forsook these corridors in the night, preferring the arms of his lovers to attending his sacred charges.
They followed Toki now, flanking him, silent, speaking only through the passing of text messages on their PDA's.
OMG!
IKR?
They reached his room. He scrutinized them, a pleading look on his face, but they did not look up. He entered his room.
Isis shut the door on him, remaining with her sister in the corridor.
LOL LOL LOL.
Pickles found Sariel was already at the breakfast table.
Charles. Though, he seemed like more of a Sariel up here at Ganesh dude's house for some reason.
Charles/Sariel/whatever grunted a hello, not pausing from shoveling more scrambled eggs into his mouth. Ganesh dude was big into the vegetarian thing, but he’d made an exception when Charles got sick, and then he’d never quite got around to banning stuff from his kitchen again, so they usually had bacon and eggs at breakfast, for instance. Pickles grabbed a crispy slice of bacon, not even bothering with a plate, and munched on it, noticing that Charles was not actually sitting in the chair, but was rather up on his knees, leaning over to grab anything and everything edible, like he wished maybe he had extra hands.
Pickles chewed bacon and considered. Charles had been the angel last night. That always seemed to make him hungry as all hell, like he’d been running a marathon or something. Not that Pickles had ever run a marathon. It did explain why Raziel sometimes called Sariel a greedy bastard when it was clear she was referring to food, not money. Pickles wasn't even entirely certain he'd ever seen Charles eat. Before. But it figured Raz used to hang out with him while he was doing the angel thing.
Pickles wasn’t quite sure how Ganesh had managed to do it. Charles didn't like pulling out the wings, and the reasons why seemed pretty bottomless. Seriously, you scratched not too far below the surface, and Charles was a mess. Even worse than the band, in some ways, as he’d had so many more years to fuck himself up. It was like that crap from the 70s – what did you call it? – macramé, like he was just knots and knots and knots. And then it was like Ganesh had decided he would slowly untie everything. Well, they were gods, they needed something to occupy themselves, he guessed.
He noticed when Charles was leaning over to the opposite side of the table to help himself to more food that the pajama bottoms were actually hanging pretty far down his ass. Seriously, he looked like he was a 12-year-old wearing his dad’s pajamas.
“Dood, did yoo lose weight again?” Pickles asked, reaching for more bacon.
“Nope,” Charles smacked.
“Dose pajamas look huge on yoo.”
Charles paused one second to hike up the bottoms and then dove for more nourishment. “Ganesh’s.”
“Yer wearin’ Ganesh’s pajamas?”
“Not pajamas.” A pause to swallow. “Py-jah-mahs,” he enunciated, in his attempt at the plummy accent.
“Dood, how long yoo doods bin at dis?”
“Huh? Ganesh an’ me?” Charles slowed down his chewing to consider. “Dunno. Months?”
“An’ yoo don’ have clothes up here?”
“Have clothes here. Lots.”
“But no pajamas?”
Charles was shaking his head. “Don’t own pajamas.”
“Yoo don’?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Why don’ I know dat?”
"Dunno. You wear p'jamas?"
"Dood. Of course nawt!" Pickles paused. Come to think of it, he had only ever seen Charles in one of two states, fully dressed, or fully undressed. But Charles had just always seemed like someone who would have a stack of pajamas neatly folded away in a dresser drawer somewhere.
“Morning!” Ganesh kissed him good morning, and gave Charles a peck on the top of his head so as not to interfere with the massive food consumption.
“Sorry, dere’s no food left,” Pickles cracked. Ganesh smiled. And then he piled a bit of food on his plate. Including some scrambled eggs.
“Dood!”
“Yes?” Ganesh inquired.
“Dose are eggs!”
Ganesh sighed. “Yes, I am aware of that.”
“I t’ough you wuz a vegetarian for eleven billionty centuries or some shit?”
“I have made some … compromises to my diet of late.”
“His uncle made him eat a steak,” Charles smacked, spurting toast crumbs.
Ganesh reached over and brushed the strawberry jam off the edge of Charles’ mouth with his thumb. Then he licked his thumb. “I find using my new destructive magic often causes me fatigue, so I have of late added eggs and fish to my diet.”
“Ah, dat’s fine. I jest wonder why Charles eats eggs.”
“Why?” Charles asked.
“Ain’t it cannibalism, dood?”
Ganesh spat his coffee.
“WHAT?” howled Charles.
“Eatin’ udder birds like dat?” Pickles was grinning.
“I’m not a fucking bird!”
“Yoo ain’t related?”
“No more than you’re related to … an octopus! Maybe you should stop eating sushi!”
"Have you told Pickles about the getaway?" Ganesh asked, more to intercept the bickering an anything else.
"Getawut?"
"Gonna take Det'cl'k t' see ancient 'Gyptian god," Charles muttered through eggs.
"Cool! We're all goin'?"
Charles paused his gorging and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. He fixed Pickles with a withering stare. "Unless you guys have something else pressing to do. Like, I dunno, record an album?"
Ganesh cringed, waiting for the inevitable storm. But Pickles just shrugged and said, "Naw! Nothin' like dat," and they both went back to eating.
"We still need to do something about your eye," Ganesh mused, flicking back a tendril of silver that had strayed into Charles's eyes amid all the food-grabbing. Pickles didn't say anything. Personally, he hoped Ganesh never figured it out, as he thought Charles looked way more fucked up and metal at way.
Charles paused once again. "I, uh.... I don't think it will be an easy fix."
"Why not?"
Charles quite suddenly seemed to discover that his place setting included a fork. He picked it up and used it to push his scrambled eggs around. "I thought you were dead," he quietly told his plate. Pickles looked up. Charles grabbed one of the dishes with a spicy red sauce and spooned a bit over the eggs, and then began to eat them. Ganesh continued to sip his coffee. He nodded and picked up a section of the London Times. This left Pickles to contemplate his slice of bacon.
It was good, traveling like the humans, Charles thought.
Despite Raziel's constant whining about its tackiness, it was nice to see the ground (or the sea, somewhat earlier) go by as you traveled. It gave you a sense of place. Very unlike magicking yourself willy nilly, till you had no idea whether you were coming or going.
Right now, they were in a small caravan of jeeps in the middle of the North African desert. The road had ended, so the vehicles had disgorged their passengers - in short, one half breed angel, one Hindu lord of destruction, five death metal musicians, and two snotty twin goddesses.
And then the jeeps drove away, leaving the nine beings stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere. The sound of the diesel engines could be heard for a few moments, and then that too was gone, leaving no sound but sifting sand. After a moment or two, it was not even clear which direction the jeeps might have gone to.
But not for long. They seemed to come out of nowhere, riding on horseback. This was possible, being deities. But Charles suspected they simply knew how to disappear into the desert
You could hear them quietly talking among themselves, in a strange clicking language. Charles was suddenly regretful Raziel hadn’t come along, as her language abilities came in useful in these situations. And then he felt himself annoyed that he was being annoyed by Raziel when she wasn’t actually present to annoy him.
One rider dropped down to address them. He took down the scarf covering his mouth. He looked to have the head of some kind of dog.
“Anubis," said Charles, nodding.
"Honored Sariel," said Anubis, bowing low. “Osiris sent me as his herald. We will escort you to his palace. If you wish you may ride along with us. This way is faster. Or you may travel there in one of our cars.” He cast his hand out, and Charles noticed that several jeeps had silently pulled up behind them. He shot a glance at Ganesh, who raised an eyebrow. These guys were good. And sneaky as hell.
“OH HELL YEAH!” Nathan declared, already making his way to pick among the spare horses. “C’mon, Skwis, get your fucking ass over here and RIDE WITH ME!”
Charles found himself smiling. He noticed Ganesh was standing at his shoulder, looking quizzical. “I wasn’t sure about bringing them along,” Charles whispered, “but….” Ganesh smiled too. Nathan riding a horse was the happiest guy on earth.
“We’re takin’ the jeep, Ofdenschen,” Murderface told him. He nodded back to where the twins were standing uncertainly by a car.
Charles nodded. “See if the driver will let you take the wheel,” he suggested. Murderface’s murderous face suddenly brightened 100 Watts, so Charles went over to exercise his negotiation skills with the drivers.
“Are you coming with us?” he asked Toki, after a bit of haggling had gotten William seated behind the wheel.
“I ams goes with the twins,” Toki said a bit uncertainly, looking back to where Nephthys was scowling and Isis was fanning herself. Charles wondered how overheated the girls must be in those ridiculous outfits.
“You could ride with me or Ganesh,” Charles suggested. Toki gave a wistful look, but shook his head and slinked back to the jeep with the twins.
“Well, can’t make everybody happy,” he shrugged. He walked back over to where Nathan and Skwisgaar were eagerly trying on keffiyehs. They looked like Arab princes. Fucking charismatic bastards. Ganesh was holding the reins of two horses, and having an animated discussion with Pickles.
“What?” Charles asked.
“I am simply trying to persuade Pickles to attempt the journey on horseback. I am a most experienced horseman, and have ridden under similar conditions.”
Charles sighed. He went and grabbed a keffiyeh and tossed it at Pickles. “Here. Put this on. You’ll ride with me.”
“I dunno doooood,” Pickles began, in his whiniest voice.
“You will ride with me AND LIKE IT,” Charles told him.
“WHAT’S TAKING YOU GUYS SO FUCKING LONG?” Nathan boomed. He and Skwisgaar were already mounted and ready.
Charles jumped up on his horse and, at his nod, Ganesh grabbed Pickles and tossed him up behind, where the drummer clung on for dear life.
Pickles had been warned that it was difficult judging distances in the desert, but he swore he didn't spot Osiris' residence until he suddenly noticed the horse had stopped. Had he dozed off? He grasped at air and only then noticed Charles was no longer sitting in front of him. Ganesh, grinning, plucked him off the horseback, which was probably not terribly dignified, but quite a relief.
"I'm never gonna walk agin!" he wailed.
"Is this really worse than riding on a motorcycle?" Ganesh asked, petting the horse.
"Motorcycles don't intentionally try t' kill yoo!"
Charles had made his way over to where Skwisgaar and Nathan were dismounting.
"Did you make a watch at the route?" he asked Skwisgaar softly, in bad Swedish.
"He took us around in circles. But I saw where he went, yeah."
"Back home you think you could remove us from the wrapping paper?"
"Oh yeah. I can find the way back. He couldn't fool me!"
"Murderface loves the squids in jars I hope in addition."
Skwisgaar laughed. "You really don"t have Raziel's language gift, do you?"
"So? Take legal action against me."
It was a low structure, build around a vast, lovely courtyard. The transition, upon walking in from a hard ride through the desert, was amazing. There were graceful fountains aplenty, as well as fruit-bearing trees, and even peacocks roaming around, giving odd-sounding hoots.
Their host appeared. He was a small, slim man dressed in a fine if fashionably rumpled linen suit. He had dark eyes, and what looked like a three day growth of beard. You could easily have taken him for a well to do businessman of Arabic or perhaps North African origin if not for the fact that his skin was a dusky green. He was flanked by several armed servants, including a gorgeous woman with a feline head and tail.
“Welcome to my residence, Honored Sariel."
"Just Sariel is fine."
"It has been far too long since you last visited my kingdom."
"You've gotten a bit off the beaten path, Osiris."
"May I introduce my amanuensis, the Lady Bast," he said, indicating the feline woman.
“Whoa, cat girl!” Nathan whispered in his not terribly low whisper.
“I am a LION,” growled Bast, narrowing her cat eyes.
“OK, OK, don’t get out the claws!”
"Patriarchal nincompoop!" Bast snarled. "The coming revolution will sweep away your kind!"
"You sweep up? That must be a kind of thankless task around here," Nathan told her. "Sand gets everywhere."
“And I assume you know Shri Ganesha, Lord Osiris,” Charles interjected, strategically placing himself between Bast and Nathan.
“My young cousin! How splendid to see how you’ve grown,” Osiris purred. Charles noticed Ganesh, who was usually unfailingly polite, briefly narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. He wondered if “young cousin” might be as bad an insult as “Little Brother” among the earth gods.
Charles introduced the band, or such as had made it on horseback.
"Normally, I would suggest a tour for my honored guests, but it might be an hour before those riding by jeep arrive."
"Not when I'm drivin', bro!" shouted Murderface, making a noisy entrance.
"Tell me agen why I hadda ride wit yoo on horseback?" Pickles asked irritably.
Osiris looked rattled for a fraction of a second, but quickly recovered. "Excellent!" he beamed. "And thank you for bringing along my most beloved little sisters," he continued, putting arms around the surly, sweaty girls. "Now, you must be tired! We have laid out a feast in your honor."
Charles stayed back. "Osiris, I need to talk about something while we're here."
"You wish an alliance against Seth," Osiris smiled.
"Uh. Yeah."
"Perhaps this threat is already being taken care of," Osiris whispered.
"Really?"
"Come. We will have plenty of time later. Eat and drink with us."
"I know where he is."
"How's it hangin', Satan dude?" Raziel grinned, scratching a spoiled wolf behind it's ears.
"I said, I know where he is," Lucifer repeated, irritably shifting his golden wings out of sniffing distance of another wolf.
"I heard you had your old job back," said Raziel.
"That is true. And my beloved children are restored."
"Soooo.... Don't you have things to do? Evil and stuff?"
"I come bearing tidings."
"I kinda prefer it when Samael does that, actually. Revelation is my favorite chapter."
"I know where he is."
"Who?"
"Where He is!" Satan snapped. "Our Father. I know where He is hiding!"
"Let me guess. Is it anywhere near here?"
"No."
"OK, I give up," Raziel said, getting up to go inside.
"Wait, where are you going?" Lucifer asked, following her up the porch steps.
"Waitaminnit!" Raziel said, turning and sticking a finger in his face. "Don't I have to invite you in or something?"
Lucifer sighed. "You're thinking of vampires."
"Oh. Knew it was something icky."
Satan glowered.
"Don't rattle your wings at me, Little Brother! I didn't invite you up here! Wotan still has that spear!"
Lucifer actually shuddered, remembering the spear through his belly. "That thing was uncomfortable!" he declared.
"Yeah, I'll have Wotan put improving spear comfort on his 'honey do' list," Raziel grinned.
"Don't you have any interest in pursuing The Creator?"
"Lucifer, look at me. Do I look like I wanna go off on a hunt right now?" she asked, patting her stomach.
"Lady Tzaphkiel is here! You must at least know about Sariel!"
"Know exactly what about Sariel?" Raziel asked, narrowing her eyes.
"He's no angel. And neither are you."
"Well. I've always known that." Raziel grinned.
"The Creator told me about you."
"Did he? About my rare fashion sense?"
Lucifer sighed. "He is not far away. But He has barricaded Himself. No magical beings may pass by."
"So. Are you recruiting a posse? Because, I'm a magical being with two more magical beings in my belly. Doesn't seem like I qualify."
"You must know the prophecy: 'When there is silence in Circles Above/And the angels rise in the South/Then Her blade shall bring death to Him.'"
"That sounds like a bunch of vague nonsense from The Book," Raziel mused. "But those passages don't go together like that."
"It's originally from The Book, yes, but this is a new interpretation." He held up a CD.
"How the fuck did you get the new Dethklok Album? Sariel will murder you. Slowly."
"Their producer owes me a favor," he said, tossing the CD to her. "You really ought to keep abreast of modern music, Raziel. Don't let parenthood turn you into an old bore," Satan grinned.
"Why the sudden obsession with Him, Morningstar? You've got your kids back. Aren't you content?"
"While He lives, they will never be safe. They defy His plan. They defy Him."
"OK. That's reasonable. And what are your other ten or twenty reasons?"
Lucifer glared at her. "I came to offer assistance."
"You just admitted you came up here for a selfish reason! Oh, put the fucking wings away! Look, your Satan crap doesn't work on me, so I'll just tell you: I plan to stay here and be boring and raise my kids. And, that's it. And if He doesn't bother me, then I'm not going looking for trouble."
"You have become boring."
"Damn straight," Raziel grinned. She waved her arm, as if magicking a sword, and something appeared in her hand. Lucifer cringed, and then noticed it wasn't a sword. It was ... a cane?
"What is that?" Lucifer asked.
Raziel shook the cane at him. "It's the universal sign for GET OFF MY FUCKING LAWN!" She suddenly brought the cane down on the porch. Lucifer gasped, and was swept away.
Raziel whistled, and walked inside the hall, wolves pattering at her feet.
Osiris had definitely put the emphasis on the drink part of eat and drink.
Various members of Dethklok were gathering up new friends and stumbling towards their assigned rooms.
“Can you kindly assist me, Nathan?” Ganesh asked. Nathan turned, albeit a bit unsteadly. A god asking for his help? That was pretty cool.
Ganesh pointed to where Charles was slumped over, snoring. “I simply want to walk him to our room.”
“Oh, I can carry him pretty easily,” Nathan grinned.
“No, be careful!” Ganesh warned. Nathan, jerking on Charles’ arm, would have ended up sprawled on top of him if Ganesh hadn't skillfully caught him and pulled him back.
“What the fuck?” Nathan asked.
Ganesh sighed. “He’s being heavy on purpose,” He explained.
Nathan looked confused.
“You get on that side,” Ganesh instructed, “and I’ll get on this. It’s easier if we can coax him to walk a bit.” When they were in position, Ganesh said softly to Charles, “We’re getting up now.”
Ganesh nodded, and they managed to get Charles - who appeared to be muttering something in Angelic - up to his feet between them, his arms draped over them. He hadn’t gotten any bigger, but seemed to weigh more than Murderface. Murderface in lead boots, that is. They managed to maneuver Charles to his room, where they got him mostly sprawled out on the bed.
“Thank you,” said Ganesh, who had actually broken a sweat.
“Dude. What the fuck?” asked Nathan.
“It is a long story,” Ganesh smiled, leaning against the door. “You are aware that angels should not be able to fly?”
“What? No way. I’ve seen the dude fly.”
“Yes, but they should not have that ability!" Ganesh stated, now warming to the topic. "Not with the way their wings work anatomically. They would be too heavy. I have given this a great deal of study of late!” he said with some pride.
Nathan still looked skeptical.
“There is a solution: angels are not subject, as you and I, to the laws of gravity! They can make themselves as heavy or light as the occasion requires. So they can make themselves light enough to fly.”
“Oooooooh!” said Nathan. “But, Ganesh dude, why would they wanna be heavy like that?”
Ganesh frowned. “That, I am not certain. Perhaps for combat? Or perhaps, well, as you guys might say, for being a dick?”
“He can definitely be a dick,” Nathan mused.
Ganesh laughed. “Are you enjoying yourself, my friend?” he asked.
“Yeah. I thought maybe I’d hang out with that cow goddess. She seems kinda freaky.”
“Hathor?”
“Yeah.”
“Kindly exercise caution!"
“Oh, what, can she stampede or something?”
Ganesh grinned. “I simply meant, much of my medical practice involves the private concerns of gods and goddesses. They frequently develop quite unusual and often virulent strains of venereal disease. I would strongly advise you to utilize a condom.”
“Oh. Good tip! Hey, thanks dude.”
Nathan cheerily departed, and Ganesh went to contemplate the best way to lever one semi conscious half angel fully up onto the bed.
As it turned out, Nathan couldn't find Hathor, but he located the rest of his band, and they had snacks. So, that was where heeded his search.
Nathan looked up from his chips. One, two, three guys.
Hmmmmm...
"Anybody seen TOKI?" he asked.
There were grunts.
"I t'inks I ams sees hims wit' da creepsy twinses," Skwisgaar strummed.
"Huh. Yeah. Te creepy twins are CREEPY."
"Yoo know why Charles banned 'em from Mordhaus, rayght?" Pickles muttered through a mouth full of pastry.
"They're BANNED?"
"Dey showed up one night in his bedroom. In his bed."
"Oh. And. Uh. What was the bad part?"
"Dooooood! Fer one t'ing, dey're supposed t' be goin' wit' TOKI."
"Oh, yeah. Toki. Where is that guy, anyway?"
Pickles sighed heavily and returned to beer consumption.
"We have previouschly eschtablisched that he wash in the company of the twinsch."
"Ja, da creepsy twinses," Skwisgaar added.
"That kind of talk isch demeaning to femalesch!"
"You ams nots finds dem creepsy?"
"Well. Yesch. But, schtill. It'sch the prinschiple!"
"Why ams you not hooksing up wit' Bast den?" Skwisgaar chuckled. "I ams sees you followsing her arounds wit' da feminists texts."
"Uhhhhhhh...." explained Murderface.
"But I don't get that the twins were BANNED!" Nathan persisted.
"Doooood! I tried tellin' yoo why dey were..." Pickles wailed.
"No, I mean what do you mean by banned, because I see them with him all the time."
"Wut, dood, at da house?"
"Ja, I ams sees deems da other night," Skwisgaar concurred.
"They're alwaysch texschting schomeone," Murderface concluded. "It'sch kinda creepy."
"Whoa dude, you ams never sleeps wit' da ladies by demeansing dems like dat!"
Murderface jammed his knife into one of Osiris's centuries old antique tables.
Toki sat huddled in his bed.
They had followed him here.
He had thought the trip would mean a few precious days of release. A few days of safety.
He couldn't remember any more how long they had been visiting him in the night. They sometimes whispered their names to him, but he covered his ears, and refused to listen.
They were ancient, that much he knew. And there was something dry about them, as if they had not even the memory of water in them.
What he wanted to do was tell Charles about them. The angel Charles. He would come to Toki's room, and wrap his fabulous wings about them both, and hold him all night, and keep him safe.
But Charles was going to leave them. He had said it the other day, leaning over that sheaf of papers, hiding behind those troubling dark glasses, and telling them there would be no more Dethklok.
Toki heard a rustling, and pulled the covers tighter.
Charles didn't care for them any more. And it was probably Toki's fault. He was bad, just as his father had told him. Just as they now whispered to him in the night, dry voices crackling.
They couldn't keep their angel any more. He would surely leave them.
He shuddered, feeling the dry heat approaching.
Sometimes Isis and Nephthys would come and send the creatures away.
Sometimes, they would smile. And leave him.
Toki started. The door swung open. A figure stood in the doorway, small and slim, bathed in light. He came over to sit at the foot of Toki's bed.
"Toki," said Osiris, "I've been wanting to have a word with you."
Isis and Nephthys stood in the doorway now, silent, intently texting each other on their PDA's.
LOL LOL LOL.
End of Part 1
On to Part 2
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary:
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, pretty bad swearing - and potty-mouth will only get worse next chapter, so you have been warned.
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Cross-posted to
capslokdethklok. I'm at a Con this weekend, and this got kinda long, so I'll post a bit tonight, and the rest some time tomorrow.
NOTE: This was the first chapter I started since I moved to my new, brain-eating job. I don't know if that was a factor, but I am not happy with it at all, and at some point, will either rewrite it, or hit it in the head with a shovel and bury it in the back yard. IF YOU FEEL YOU'RE GETTING STUCK HERE, just read the beginning bits of this part, and the ending of Part 2, and then skip ahead to Chapter 34. Really, go ahead. Nobody's looking.
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU in which Charles is Sariel, an angel who fell to earth and subsequently got adopted by a death metal band. 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.Last time, Nathan kinda spilled the beans over Charles being an angel and all that, so Charles had to go on Nick Ibsen's show and field questions from the teeming masses. Which was horrible, because he hates the teeming masses. Oh, and Seth declared himself Grand Duke of Australia, and he and some angel buddies destroyed New Zealand, which much annoyed the many sheeps and Hobbits there. Yeah, what a douche bag.
Just an FYI, in order to understand something that happens here, you need to have read the Interstitial Clarence Sends His Regards. I expected that to be a one shot back when I wrote it but as it turns out, it’s gonna be important.
Weird Children
Part 1 of 2
The tall man knelt down and carefully traced the symbols in rooster blood on the floor of the darkened room. What was done must be done with utmost care. He pushed back his top hat had wiped some sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
The door slammed open. "Are you fucking done yet?" The interloper was shorter. He was dressed all in green and black, and wore a pair of machetes on his belt.
"I will never be fucking done if you keep fucking interrupting," sighed the man in the hat. "What the fuck?"
"Are you sure it's even fucking him?" the man with the machetes insisted. "I been fucking looking a long fucking time!"
The tall man sighed. He stood and, wiping the blood from his hands onto a rag, clicked on a television remote. A monitor in the darkened room displayed a video of two men sitting at a desk, deep in conversation.
"My father wasn't an angel. Evidently."
"Forbidden love?"
"Uh. Maybe."
The man in the hat clicked the pause button.
"He looks like an asshole," the man with the machetes declared. "Who the fuck wears fucking suspenders these days?"
The man in the hat sighed. "Not that asshole. The other asshole."
"Oh. The cocksucker with the fucked up eyes?"
"Yeah. The cocksucker with the fucked up eyes. Now, you gonna get the fuck outta here so I can cast this fucking spell?"
"Well, what are you fucking waiting for? Hurry the fuck up!" And with that, the guy with the machetes stomped out of the room, slamming the fucking door behind him.
"Fucking motherfucker," muttered the man in the hat, returning to his rooster blood.
Tzaphkiel was sitting out in a chair in the front garden at Valhalla. Raziel had threatened the animals with a painful death lest they annoy her in any way, so a single wolf rested a polite distance from her feet. Freki was not so reticent with Sariel: when the angel came to sit near her, he got a full nosing before the beast could be persuaded (in bad Swedish) to seat itself.
After a time Sariel was able to open the book he held, and he began reading.
Ganesh, watching from the window, turned around and said, "I am concerned about him."
Raziel and Pickles looked up from what they were doing (respectively, knitting very poorly, and nothing in particular), exchanged a puzzled glance. They shrugged, and went back to what they were or weren't doing.
"You two do not share my concern?"
"Dood, we make a point not t' be concerned."
"Sariel and I have had centuries of not being concerned about one another. It's worked very well!"
"He has become acquainted with his mother after a long lifetime," Ganesh persisted. "And yet when they come together, they do not even speak?"
"Wut did yoo expect, dood?" Pickles inquired.
"Ganesha," Raziel sighed. "Look. They are two of the stiffest people in all of Creation! You thought they would hug?"
"Ha! Charles would taser yer ass if yoo got dat close!"
“You think he’d taser his mom?" Raziel grinned.
“Dood! He’d totally taser his mom!”
Raziel frowned. "I could send Wotan to go hug them. He's a hugger."
"Ew! Really?"
"Yeah, stay away when he's in a mood, you'll get squished."
"Still," Ganesh interjected. "Wouldn't you think there would be ... questions?"
"Ganesha, does Tzaphkiel look like she's contented?" Raziel asked.
Ganesh looked out the window. Tzaphkiel leaned over and tentatively smoothed a hair that had gotten microscopically out of place on her son's head. Sariel did not look up. She leaned back.
"Her aura brightens in his presence, yes."
"Sariel does what Sariel does. That's the way it's been since forever. And I suspect she's pretty much the same."
"An' she's pretty sick, huh?" Pickles asked. "She looks like what da Hopi would say is ready t' leave da husk behind."
"The Hopi are full of shit," Ganesh grumbled.
"Wut, dood?" Pickles asked.
"The physical being is not a husk for the soul," Ganesh raved, waving a finger. "There is an interaction, body to spirit!"
"Da earthly shell is jest illusory, dood!"
Ganesh turned around. "Is not!"
"Is so!"
Raziel grinned. She hadn't thought she cared for philosophy, but if it meant a fistfight, she might be more inclined.
"Sariel, I need to speak with ye," Wotan had told him. There were cigars and Scotch involved, so Sariel eagerly agreed.
"I've been growing increasingly concerned with those rogue angels in Australia," Wotan explained.
"Probably for good reason. Seth is fucking nuts," Sariel supplied helping himself to a lovely-smelling Cuban.
"I have been attempting to effect this slowly, but it looks like we may have to increase the pace. I have been trying to contact other pantheons, to get us in agreement, a kind of alliance. Would you be willin’ to go talk to one of them for me? There’s a limit to what me and my Raziel can do. My Lady isn't supposed to go adventuring just now."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T GO?" wailed Raziel, who had appeared upon her mention.
"Now, remember, Lady, Ganesh was sayin' that he didn't want you jumping about too much at this stage of the pregnancy?"
"Yes, and you called Ganesh an over protective nanny!"
"Well, aye, when he's sayin' Sariel can't smoke a cigar with me, he's bein' an over protective nanny," Wotan replied. Sariel cheerfully blew smoke. "When he says for you to stop jumping around, he's bein' reasonable and conservative."
"I sense inconsistency," Raziel scolded, hopping up to sit on the arm of Wotan’s chair.
"Gotta get ready for when the children come!" he smiled, patting her pregnant stomach. "That's the secret of raisin' two," he told Sariel, "Gotta keep 'em guessing! Can't let 'em know what you're thinkin' from week to week. Who's gonna be the favorite? Will drive em crazy."
"Well, they are gonna be conniving little angels," Sariel agreed.
"The secret of fatherhood: strategic thinking," Wotan declared, tapping his forehead with an index finger.
"Sariel despises children," Raziel explained.
"Yeah. I do."
"Have you figured how you're gonna be uncle to our two?" Wotan asked.
"I'm not really...."
"You don't enjoy seein' Brahma and Ganesh tangle?" asked Wotan, taking a swig of Scotch.
"No, it's awesome," Sariel agreed. "But.... Wait...."
"Children need at least one irascible relative!" Wotan declared.
"And Wotan's gonna spoil 'em rotten," Raziel,supplied.
"It's true! They will be the most coddled children in existence!" Wotan agreed. "Their every whim indulged."
"So it'll be up to you to annoy them."
"Remind them of their shortcomings! Even if you have to make 'em up!"
"Hrm, " said Sariel.
"But I still think I could go adventuring," Raziel pouted.
"Well, Ganesh didn't say you had to completely stop jumping. Maybe if you cut down on those shopping expeditions!"
"I can't quit shopping! You can't expect Sariel to dress himself."
"WHAT?" said Sariel, turning the world's finest single malt to spittle.
"Well, ye were lettin' Sarasvati hand feed ya the other day," Wotan told Sariel. "Ain't much in an appealing to dignity after that one."
Sariel grinned. "Don't want my Auntie Sarasvari to think I'm pining away. I'm her favorite."
"You're whose favorite?" Ganesh asked irritably, thumping down on the couch next to Sariel.
"We're going on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan," Sariel told him.
"To where?" asked Ganesh, grabbing away his Scotch and taking a sip.
"Actually, I had a much closer locality in mind," Wotan laughed.
On a balcony overlooking Wotan's vast holdings at Valhalla, a half-breed angel and a god stood, discussing diplomacy.
"Fucking Wotan," Sarriel grumbled. "How does he always talk me into this bullshit?"
"You are a lawyer, jaanu," Ganesh smiled. "I would think you would be less attentive to Wotan's liquor and cigars, and mores to the particulars beforehand."
"You are coming along! If I gotta see that fucking asshole, you are fucking coming with me!"
Ganesh smiled. "I believe it will be possible to set aside some days from my workplace, yes."
"Oh. Sorry. I keep forgetting you're not a ne'er do well like fucking Raziel."
Ganesh looked out over the balcony. "You dislike my cousin that much?"
"Do you like him?"
"No."
"Always reliving the fucking glory days. Yeah, things were great when you had a million slaves to whip with your shepherd fucking thing."
"I believe they are correctly termed the crook and flail."
"Little Bo Fucking Peep."
"Whether or not he is in a diminished state, he still possesses quite a retinue. I have heard that Lady Bast and her entourage are now in his service. Wotan is wise to ask for his alliance."
"I wish he'd sent Raziel instead. Maybe she and Bast could discuss knitting adorable sword cosies."
"My fault, I am afraid. I ask that the Lady restrict her magical travel."
"He could put her on a slow boat instead! Do us all a favor!"
Ganesh laughed. "My father always said, one must exercise caution when dealing with the Elder Gods. Their view of morality can be ... eccentric."
"Eh. It's just Bast and Osiris. Not fucking Cthulhu." Sariel considered Ganesh. "You miss your dad?"
Ganesh frowned. "Yes. I do sometimes. A lot of the time, I suppose. The relationship has not been an easy one. But I feel of late I may have gained some greater insights."
They were quiet for a moment. "The worst part is," Sariel said at length, "if we're going to visit Osiris, we gotta drag those creepy twins along. I bet Raziel put him up to this."
"You are still distressed by Isis and Nephthys' misbehavior?"
"Those girls are deranged."
"Still, it is at base just a bit of hero worship. A crush. You must have experienced something like this in the past?"
"No! This is why I've tried to keep myself hidden. Why I stay in the background!"
Ganesh leaned against the balustrade and studied the angel. He thought Sariel seemed unduly agitated. "Is that why you have become so efficient at tucking away your magic when you go to Court Form?"
"I dunno."
"We gods, too, take on different Forms, as often when we walk among the humans. Even Lord Wotan, who looks much like a human. There is a similar phenomenon with angels in Court Form. But, in either case, no matter the changes in physical Form, the auras do not change so dramatically."
"Not that aura crap again." Sariel was scowling out at something fascinating on the lawn.
"You are an exception. You seem almost like two different people. It's astonishing. I am not even certain how you do it."
"Ganesh! Stop. I am not your fucking high school science project." He focused he glare on Ganesh. "I let you touch my wings. Just back off on this."
"You are not curious yourself about this?" Ganesh persisted, wielding his most effective glare-melting smile. "You seem eager to poke around in Uriah's diseased mind for your origins."
"That's different," Sariel said, his glare indeed shaken by the zen master of utilizing kindness as a deadly weapon. "I wanna know who to blame." He turned and looked back across the lands. "I wanna know who to kill."
They were silent again.
Ganesh leaned over and began kissing Sariel. "I need to turn in my science homework," he murmured, to the angel's laugh. "Extra credit."
Ganesh grabbed Sariel by the waist and tugged him up so he sat on the balustrade. The angel wrapped his legs around Ganesh, who pressed against him and began pulling at his clothes.
"Really? Off the balcony?" Sariel whispered, glancing downwards.
"Mm. Afraid I might drop you?"
"You just want another chapter for the Kama Sutra."
Ganesh twined his fingers the Sariel's hair. "You are my favorite educational resource."
Charles tried to think of a list of places he'd rather be right now.
Trouble was, the list was pretty much infinite.
Raziel brought in Isis and Nephthys and sat them down. Isis actually simpered at him, although he got a scowl from Nephthys. Well, at least they're not acting like one person today, he thought. Isis's hair was a bright robin's egg blue today. Sariel thought she was definitely using magic on it. A good way to end up bald, he reflected.
Since the Nick Ibsen interview he had been forced to reconcile himself with more unwanted attention. He even received fan mail these days, and though it was an order of magnitude less than any member of the band, it was still considerable. Mixed in with the death threats and marriage offers were a few coherent messages.
The most compelling of all, to Charles, were the ones from a few humans containing memories of encounters with very strange friends or lovers: people who never seemed to age, and then one day left with no word.
He had instructed the Klokateers who now handled such mail - some of them were in fact drawn from among his own Cherubim and Ophanim - to answer each and every letter in exactly the same manner: a polite response that said, although he no longer had time to personally respond to unsolicited mail, he did read every piece. He didn't want to alienate any fans or potential fans.
But, well, unwelcome attention. It chafed.
“I’m not mad at you,” he began.
“We’re mad at you!” Nephthys spat. Isis looked a bit more uncertain.
“What?” snorted Raziel, who had started to rise from her chair.
Charles held up a hand to stay Raziel from stabbing anybody. “Let’s hear what she has to say,” he said very quietly.
“You totally disrespected us," Nephthys huffed.
“And I firmly believe you have disrespected yourselves.”
“We chose you.”
“Yes. That isn’t a decision one makes unilaterally.” Unilaterally? he thought. But, there are two of them. Bilaterally? “That kind of thing is called sexual assault, and it’s not looked up on favorably in the modern world.” He steepled his hands and turned his neutral gaze to a glare, medium style.
“Yeah. You think people are gonna believe WE, like, tried to rape YOU?”
“You two possess the powers of life and death. You don’t think someone would potentially find that threatening?”
“That’s why we don’t want the powers any more, you know,” Isis whispered.
He looked over at Isis, still trying to keep his voice low. “So, you were trying to extinguish your powers?”
Nephthys looked daggers, but Isis nodded.
“Wait. You guys gotta realize that it isn’t that simple?” Raziel asked.
Isis nodded sadly. “We could lose ‘em. Or stay the same.”
“Or get stronger,” Nephthys concluded.
"Why wouldn't you want your powers?" Raziel asked.
"I could have, like, killed Aaron, for one." Nephthys gazed unhappily at her own hands. "I'm tired of having all this fucking power, you know?"
"So, what if you ended up getting super powered?" said Raziel.
"You would have, like helped us and stuff, right?" Isis asked Charles.
"No," he said.
"What?" said Nephthys. "We've seen you help Toki!"
"Dethklok are humans. When you take responsibility for humans, you take them on for their lives, even if it is at the cost of your own life. This is another thing you should know, but it doesn't seem to have sunk in. I'm watching Dethklok. It is an awesome responsibility. I am not taking new clients."
Nephthys rose.
"I could kill you, you know" she declared.
Charles followed her with his eyes. "I doubt it."
"You just claimed you were scared of us!"
"Should I be?"
Nephthys sat. Her eyes were teary. "No," she said, in a very small voice.
"You want orders on how to live your life? OK. We're all going to see your brother. This visit is very important. You will come along and be pleasant, even if you don't feel particularly pleasant. Because you are adults, and that's what we adults occasionally have to do. Is this understood?" The glare flared thermonuclear.
They nodded sheepishly, and both girls departed.
"I know why they're not sleeping with Toki," Charles sighed. "They don't wanna boyfriend. They want a master. No wonder they're still kids."
"It's such bullshit!” Raziel grumbled.
“What?”
“Eh. Virgin goddesses. Male gods never have that problem!”
“That’s true. Or at least….” Charles frowned. “Male humans do.”
“What?”
“You’ve heard of Galahad?”
“Wasn’t he one of those Round Table guys?” Charles nodded. “Wotan says Arthur was a douche bag. They were all religious nuts or something.”
“Galahad kept himself pure.”
“What, did he drink bleach or something?”
“He never had sex.”
“Oh. Oh, creepy! Yuck!”
“Why is that creepy? Ganesh doesn’t eat meat.”
Raziel grinned. “Yeah, but he eats other things. So I’ve heard.”
Charles found himself smiling too. “OK. Point.”
"What was the point?"
"Oh. Toki."
"Oh, god. But, I mean, I suppose it's his choice."
"Yeah, but, Galahad? Percival? Those guys didn't come to such a good end."
They had been banned from Mordhaus.
But such as them did not consider such a ban enforceable.
Lord Ganesh was correct. The morality of Elder Gods were often inscrutable, even to other gods.
And the angel, Sariel, these days, often forsook these corridors in the night, preferring the arms of his lovers to attending his sacred charges.
They followed Toki now, flanking him, silent, speaking only through the passing of text messages on their PDA's.
OMG!
IKR?
They reached his room. He scrutinized them, a pleading look on his face, but they did not look up. He entered his room.
Isis shut the door on him, remaining with her sister in the corridor.
LOL LOL LOL.
Pickles found Sariel was already at the breakfast table.
Charles. Though, he seemed like more of a Sariel up here at Ganesh dude's house for some reason.
Charles/Sariel/whatever grunted a hello, not pausing from shoveling more scrambled eggs into his mouth. Ganesh dude was big into the vegetarian thing, but he’d made an exception when Charles got sick, and then he’d never quite got around to banning stuff from his kitchen again, so they usually had bacon and eggs at breakfast, for instance. Pickles grabbed a crispy slice of bacon, not even bothering with a plate, and munched on it, noticing that Charles was not actually sitting in the chair, but was rather up on his knees, leaning over to grab anything and everything edible, like he wished maybe he had extra hands.
Pickles chewed bacon and considered. Charles had been the angel last night. That always seemed to make him hungry as all hell, like he’d been running a marathon or something. Not that Pickles had ever run a marathon. It did explain why Raziel sometimes called Sariel a greedy bastard when it was clear she was referring to food, not money. Pickles wasn't even entirely certain he'd ever seen Charles eat. Before. But it figured Raz used to hang out with him while he was doing the angel thing.
Pickles wasn’t quite sure how Ganesh had managed to do it. Charles didn't like pulling out the wings, and the reasons why seemed pretty bottomless. Seriously, you scratched not too far below the surface, and Charles was a mess. Even worse than the band, in some ways, as he’d had so many more years to fuck himself up. It was like that crap from the 70s – what did you call it? – macramé, like he was just knots and knots and knots. And then it was like Ganesh had decided he would slowly untie everything. Well, they were gods, they needed something to occupy themselves, he guessed.
He noticed when Charles was leaning over to the opposite side of the table to help himself to more food that the pajama bottoms were actually hanging pretty far down his ass. Seriously, he looked like he was a 12-year-old wearing his dad’s pajamas.
“Dood, did yoo lose weight again?” Pickles asked, reaching for more bacon.
“Nope,” Charles smacked.
“Dose pajamas look huge on yoo.”
Charles paused one second to hike up the bottoms and then dove for more nourishment. “Ganesh’s.”
“Yer wearin’ Ganesh’s pajamas?”
“Not pajamas.” A pause to swallow. “Py-jah-mahs,” he enunciated, in his attempt at the plummy accent.
“Dood, how long yoo doods bin at dis?”
“Huh? Ganesh an’ me?” Charles slowed down his chewing to consider. “Dunno. Months?”
“An’ yoo don’ have clothes up here?”
“Have clothes here. Lots.”
“But no pajamas?”
Charles was shaking his head. “Don’t own pajamas.”
“Yoo don’?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Why don’ I know dat?”
"Dunno. You wear p'jamas?"
"Dood. Of course nawt!" Pickles paused. Come to think of it, he had only ever seen Charles in one of two states, fully dressed, or fully undressed. But Charles had just always seemed like someone who would have a stack of pajamas neatly folded away in a dresser drawer somewhere.
“Morning!” Ganesh kissed him good morning, and gave Charles a peck on the top of his head so as not to interfere with the massive food consumption.
“Sorry, dere’s no food left,” Pickles cracked. Ganesh smiled. And then he piled a bit of food on his plate. Including some scrambled eggs.
“Dood!”
“Yes?” Ganesh inquired.
“Dose are eggs!”
Ganesh sighed. “Yes, I am aware of that.”
“I t’ough you wuz a vegetarian for eleven billionty centuries or some shit?”
“I have made some … compromises to my diet of late.”
“His uncle made him eat a steak,” Charles smacked, spurting toast crumbs.
Ganesh reached over and brushed the strawberry jam off the edge of Charles’ mouth with his thumb. Then he licked his thumb. “I find using my new destructive magic often causes me fatigue, so I have of late added eggs and fish to my diet.”
“Ah, dat’s fine. I jest wonder why Charles eats eggs.”
“Why?” Charles asked.
“Ain’t it cannibalism, dood?”
Ganesh spat his coffee.
“WHAT?” howled Charles.
“Eatin’ udder birds like dat?” Pickles was grinning.
“I’m not a fucking bird!”
“Yoo ain’t related?”
“No more than you’re related to … an octopus! Maybe you should stop eating sushi!”
"Have you told Pickles about the getaway?" Ganesh asked, more to intercept the bickering an anything else.
"Getawut?"
"Gonna take Det'cl'k t' see ancient 'Gyptian god," Charles muttered through eggs.
"Cool! We're all goin'?"
Charles paused his gorging and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. He fixed Pickles with a withering stare. "Unless you guys have something else pressing to do. Like, I dunno, record an album?"
Ganesh cringed, waiting for the inevitable storm. But Pickles just shrugged and said, "Naw! Nothin' like dat," and they both went back to eating.
"We still need to do something about your eye," Ganesh mused, flicking back a tendril of silver that had strayed into Charles's eyes amid all the food-grabbing. Pickles didn't say anything. Personally, he hoped Ganesh never figured it out, as he thought Charles looked way more fucked up and metal at way.
Charles paused once again. "I, uh.... I don't think it will be an easy fix."
"Why not?"
Charles quite suddenly seemed to discover that his place setting included a fork. He picked it up and used it to push his scrambled eggs around. "I thought you were dead," he quietly told his plate. Pickles looked up. Charles grabbed one of the dishes with a spicy red sauce and spooned a bit over the eggs, and then began to eat them. Ganesh continued to sip his coffee. He nodded and picked up a section of the London Times. This left Pickles to contemplate his slice of bacon.
It was good, traveling like the humans, Charles thought.
Despite Raziel's constant whining about its tackiness, it was nice to see the ground (or the sea, somewhat earlier) go by as you traveled. It gave you a sense of place. Very unlike magicking yourself willy nilly, till you had no idea whether you were coming or going.
Right now, they were in a small caravan of jeeps in the middle of the North African desert. The road had ended, so the vehicles had disgorged their passengers - in short, one half breed angel, one Hindu lord of destruction, five death metal musicians, and two snotty twin goddesses.
And then the jeeps drove away, leaving the nine beings stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere. The sound of the diesel engines could be heard for a few moments, and then that too was gone, leaving no sound but sifting sand. After a moment or two, it was not even clear which direction the jeeps might have gone to.
But not for long. They seemed to come out of nowhere, riding on horseback. This was possible, being deities. But Charles suspected they simply knew how to disappear into the desert
You could hear them quietly talking among themselves, in a strange clicking language. Charles was suddenly regretful Raziel hadn’t come along, as her language abilities came in useful in these situations. And then he felt himself annoyed that he was being annoyed by Raziel when she wasn’t actually present to annoy him.
One rider dropped down to address them. He took down the scarf covering his mouth. He looked to have the head of some kind of dog.
“Anubis," said Charles, nodding.
"Honored Sariel," said Anubis, bowing low. “Osiris sent me as his herald. We will escort you to his palace. If you wish you may ride along with us. This way is faster. Or you may travel there in one of our cars.” He cast his hand out, and Charles noticed that several jeeps had silently pulled up behind them. He shot a glance at Ganesh, who raised an eyebrow. These guys were good. And sneaky as hell.
“OH HELL YEAH!” Nathan declared, already making his way to pick among the spare horses. “C’mon, Skwis, get your fucking ass over here and RIDE WITH ME!”
Charles found himself smiling. He noticed Ganesh was standing at his shoulder, looking quizzical. “I wasn’t sure about bringing them along,” Charles whispered, “but….” Ganesh smiled too. Nathan riding a horse was the happiest guy on earth.
“We’re takin’ the jeep, Ofdenschen,” Murderface told him. He nodded back to where the twins were standing uncertainly by a car.
Charles nodded. “See if the driver will let you take the wheel,” he suggested. Murderface’s murderous face suddenly brightened 100 Watts, so Charles went over to exercise his negotiation skills with the drivers.
“Are you coming with us?” he asked Toki, after a bit of haggling had gotten William seated behind the wheel.
“I ams goes with the twins,” Toki said a bit uncertainly, looking back to where Nephthys was scowling and Isis was fanning herself. Charles wondered how overheated the girls must be in those ridiculous outfits.
“You could ride with me or Ganesh,” Charles suggested. Toki gave a wistful look, but shook his head and slinked back to the jeep with the twins.
“Well, can’t make everybody happy,” he shrugged. He walked back over to where Nathan and Skwisgaar were eagerly trying on keffiyehs. They looked like Arab princes. Fucking charismatic bastards. Ganesh was holding the reins of two horses, and having an animated discussion with Pickles.
“What?” Charles asked.
“I am simply trying to persuade Pickles to attempt the journey on horseback. I am a most experienced horseman, and have ridden under similar conditions.”
Charles sighed. He went and grabbed a keffiyeh and tossed it at Pickles. “Here. Put this on. You’ll ride with me.”
“I dunno doooood,” Pickles began, in his whiniest voice.
“You will ride with me AND LIKE IT,” Charles told him.
“WHAT’S TAKING YOU GUYS SO FUCKING LONG?” Nathan boomed. He and Skwisgaar were already mounted and ready.
Charles jumped up on his horse and, at his nod, Ganesh grabbed Pickles and tossed him up behind, where the drummer clung on for dear life.
Pickles had been warned that it was difficult judging distances in the desert, but he swore he didn't spot Osiris' residence until he suddenly noticed the horse had stopped. Had he dozed off? He grasped at air and only then noticed Charles was no longer sitting in front of him. Ganesh, grinning, plucked him off the horseback, which was probably not terribly dignified, but quite a relief.
"I'm never gonna walk agin!" he wailed.
"Is this really worse than riding on a motorcycle?" Ganesh asked, petting the horse.
"Motorcycles don't intentionally try t' kill yoo!"
Charles had made his way over to where Skwisgaar and Nathan were dismounting.
"Did you make a watch at the route?" he asked Skwisgaar softly, in bad Swedish.
"He took us around in circles. But I saw where he went, yeah."
"Back home you think you could remove us from the wrapping paper?"
"Oh yeah. I can find the way back. He couldn't fool me!"
"Murderface loves the squids in jars I hope in addition."
Skwisgaar laughed. "You really don"t have Raziel's language gift, do you?"
"So? Take legal action against me."
It was a low structure, build around a vast, lovely courtyard. The transition, upon walking in from a hard ride through the desert, was amazing. There were graceful fountains aplenty, as well as fruit-bearing trees, and even peacocks roaming around, giving odd-sounding hoots.
Their host appeared. He was a small, slim man dressed in a fine if fashionably rumpled linen suit. He had dark eyes, and what looked like a three day growth of beard. You could easily have taken him for a well to do businessman of Arabic or perhaps North African origin if not for the fact that his skin was a dusky green. He was flanked by several armed servants, including a gorgeous woman with a feline head and tail.
“Welcome to my residence, Honored Sariel."
"Just Sariel is fine."
"It has been far too long since you last visited my kingdom."
"You've gotten a bit off the beaten path, Osiris."
"May I introduce my amanuensis, the Lady Bast," he said, indicating the feline woman.
“Whoa, cat girl!” Nathan whispered in his not terribly low whisper.
“I am a LION,” growled Bast, narrowing her cat eyes.
“OK, OK, don’t get out the claws!”
"Patriarchal nincompoop!" Bast snarled. "The coming revolution will sweep away your kind!"
"You sweep up? That must be a kind of thankless task around here," Nathan told her. "Sand gets everywhere."
“And I assume you know Shri Ganesha, Lord Osiris,” Charles interjected, strategically placing himself between Bast and Nathan.
“My young cousin! How splendid to see how you’ve grown,” Osiris purred. Charles noticed Ganesh, who was usually unfailingly polite, briefly narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. He wondered if “young cousin” might be as bad an insult as “Little Brother” among the earth gods.
Charles introduced the band, or such as had made it on horseback.
"Normally, I would suggest a tour for my honored guests, but it might be an hour before those riding by jeep arrive."
"Not when I'm drivin', bro!" shouted Murderface, making a noisy entrance.
"Tell me agen why I hadda ride wit yoo on horseback?" Pickles asked irritably.
Osiris looked rattled for a fraction of a second, but quickly recovered. "Excellent!" he beamed. "And thank you for bringing along my most beloved little sisters," he continued, putting arms around the surly, sweaty girls. "Now, you must be tired! We have laid out a feast in your honor."
Charles stayed back. "Osiris, I need to talk about something while we're here."
"You wish an alliance against Seth," Osiris smiled.
"Uh. Yeah."
"Perhaps this threat is already being taken care of," Osiris whispered.
"Really?"
"Come. We will have plenty of time later. Eat and drink with us."
"I know where he is."
"How's it hangin', Satan dude?" Raziel grinned, scratching a spoiled wolf behind it's ears.
"I said, I know where he is," Lucifer repeated, irritably shifting his golden wings out of sniffing distance of another wolf.
"I heard you had your old job back," said Raziel.
"That is true. And my beloved children are restored."
"Soooo.... Don't you have things to do? Evil and stuff?"
"I come bearing tidings."
"I kinda prefer it when Samael does that, actually. Revelation is my favorite chapter."
"I know where he is."
"Who?"
"Where He is!" Satan snapped. "Our Father. I know where He is hiding!"
"Let me guess. Is it anywhere near here?"
"No."
"OK, I give up," Raziel said, getting up to go inside.
"Wait, where are you going?" Lucifer asked, following her up the porch steps.
"Waitaminnit!" Raziel said, turning and sticking a finger in his face. "Don't I have to invite you in or something?"
Lucifer sighed. "You're thinking of vampires."
"Oh. Knew it was something icky."
Satan glowered.
"Don't rattle your wings at me, Little Brother! I didn't invite you up here! Wotan still has that spear!"
Lucifer actually shuddered, remembering the spear through his belly. "That thing was uncomfortable!" he declared.
"Yeah, I'll have Wotan put improving spear comfort on his 'honey do' list," Raziel grinned.
"Don't you have any interest in pursuing The Creator?"
"Lucifer, look at me. Do I look like I wanna go off on a hunt right now?" she asked, patting her stomach.
"Lady Tzaphkiel is here! You must at least know about Sariel!"
"Know exactly what about Sariel?" Raziel asked, narrowing her eyes.
"He's no angel. And neither are you."
"Well. I've always known that." Raziel grinned.
"The Creator told me about you."
"Did he? About my rare fashion sense?"
Lucifer sighed. "He is not far away. But He has barricaded Himself. No magical beings may pass by."
"So. Are you recruiting a posse? Because, I'm a magical being with two more magical beings in my belly. Doesn't seem like I qualify."
"You must know the prophecy: 'When there is silence in Circles Above/And the angels rise in the South/Then Her blade shall bring death to Him.'"
"That sounds like a bunch of vague nonsense from The Book," Raziel mused. "But those passages don't go together like that."
"It's originally from The Book, yes, but this is a new interpretation." He held up a CD.
"How the fuck did you get the new Dethklok Album? Sariel will murder you. Slowly."
"Their producer owes me a favor," he said, tossing the CD to her. "You really ought to keep abreast of modern music, Raziel. Don't let parenthood turn you into an old bore," Satan grinned.
"Why the sudden obsession with Him, Morningstar? You've got your kids back. Aren't you content?"
"While He lives, they will never be safe. They defy His plan. They defy Him."
"OK. That's reasonable. And what are your other ten or twenty reasons?"
Lucifer glared at her. "I came to offer assistance."
"You just admitted you came up here for a selfish reason! Oh, put the fucking wings away! Look, your Satan crap doesn't work on me, so I'll just tell you: I plan to stay here and be boring and raise my kids. And, that's it. And if He doesn't bother me, then I'm not going looking for trouble."
"You have become boring."
"Damn straight," Raziel grinned. She waved her arm, as if magicking a sword, and something appeared in her hand. Lucifer cringed, and then noticed it wasn't a sword. It was ... a cane?
"What is that?" Lucifer asked.
Raziel shook the cane at him. "It's the universal sign for GET OFF MY FUCKING LAWN!" She suddenly brought the cane down on the porch. Lucifer gasped, and was swept away.
Raziel whistled, and walked inside the hall, wolves pattering at her feet.
Osiris had definitely put the emphasis on the drink part of eat and drink.
Various members of Dethklok were gathering up new friends and stumbling towards their assigned rooms.
“Can you kindly assist me, Nathan?” Ganesh asked. Nathan turned, albeit a bit unsteadly. A god asking for his help? That was pretty cool.
Ganesh pointed to where Charles was slumped over, snoring. “I simply want to walk him to our room.”
“Oh, I can carry him pretty easily,” Nathan grinned.
“No, be careful!” Ganesh warned. Nathan, jerking on Charles’ arm, would have ended up sprawled on top of him if Ganesh hadn't skillfully caught him and pulled him back.
“What the fuck?” Nathan asked.
Ganesh sighed. “He’s being heavy on purpose,” He explained.
Nathan looked confused.
“You get on that side,” Ganesh instructed, “and I’ll get on this. It’s easier if we can coax him to walk a bit.” When they were in position, Ganesh said softly to Charles, “We’re getting up now.”
Ganesh nodded, and they managed to get Charles - who appeared to be muttering something in Angelic - up to his feet between them, his arms draped over them. He hadn’t gotten any bigger, but seemed to weigh more than Murderface. Murderface in lead boots, that is. They managed to maneuver Charles to his room, where they got him mostly sprawled out on the bed.
“Thank you,” said Ganesh, who had actually broken a sweat.
“Dude. What the fuck?” asked Nathan.
“It is a long story,” Ganesh smiled, leaning against the door. “You are aware that angels should not be able to fly?”
“What? No way. I’ve seen the dude fly.”
“Yes, but they should not have that ability!" Ganesh stated, now warming to the topic. "Not with the way their wings work anatomically. They would be too heavy. I have given this a great deal of study of late!” he said with some pride.
Nathan still looked skeptical.
“There is a solution: angels are not subject, as you and I, to the laws of gravity! They can make themselves as heavy or light as the occasion requires. So they can make themselves light enough to fly.”
“Oooooooh!” said Nathan. “But, Ganesh dude, why would they wanna be heavy like that?”
Ganesh frowned. “That, I am not certain. Perhaps for combat? Or perhaps, well, as you guys might say, for being a dick?”
“He can definitely be a dick,” Nathan mused.
Ganesh laughed. “Are you enjoying yourself, my friend?” he asked.
“Yeah. I thought maybe I’d hang out with that cow goddess. She seems kinda freaky.”
“Hathor?”
“Yeah.”
“Kindly exercise caution!"
“Oh, what, can she stampede or something?”
Ganesh grinned. “I simply meant, much of my medical practice involves the private concerns of gods and goddesses. They frequently develop quite unusual and often virulent strains of venereal disease. I would strongly advise you to utilize a condom.”
“Oh. Good tip! Hey, thanks dude.”
Nathan cheerily departed, and Ganesh went to contemplate the best way to lever one semi conscious half angel fully up onto the bed.
As it turned out, Nathan couldn't find Hathor, but he located the rest of his band, and they had snacks. So, that was where heeded his search.
Nathan looked up from his chips. One, two, three guys.
Hmmmmm...
"Anybody seen TOKI?" he asked.
There were grunts.
"I t'inks I ams sees hims wit' da creepsy twinses," Skwisgaar strummed.
"Huh. Yeah. Te creepy twins are CREEPY."
"Yoo know why Charles banned 'em from Mordhaus, rayght?" Pickles muttered through a mouth full of pastry.
"They're BANNED?"
"Dey showed up one night in his bedroom. In his bed."
"Oh. And. Uh. What was the bad part?"
"Dooooood! Fer one t'ing, dey're supposed t' be goin' wit' TOKI."
"Oh, yeah. Toki. Where is that guy, anyway?"
Pickles sighed heavily and returned to beer consumption.
"We have previouschly eschtablisched that he wash in the company of the twinsch."
"Ja, da creepsy twinses," Skwisgaar added.
"That kind of talk isch demeaning to femalesch!"
"You ams nots finds dem creepsy?"
"Well. Yesch. But, schtill. It'sch the prinschiple!"
"Why ams you not hooksing up wit' Bast den?" Skwisgaar chuckled. "I ams sees you followsing her arounds wit' da feminists texts."
"Uhhhhhhh...." explained Murderface.
"But I don't get that the twins were BANNED!" Nathan persisted.
"Doooood! I tried tellin' yoo why dey were..." Pickles wailed.
"No, I mean what do you mean by banned, because I see them with him all the time."
"Wut, dood, at da house?"
"Ja, I ams sees deems da other night," Skwisgaar concurred.
"They're alwaysch texschting schomeone," Murderface concluded. "It'sch kinda creepy."
"Whoa dude, you ams never sleeps wit' da ladies by demeansing dems like dat!"
Murderface jammed his knife into one of Osiris's centuries old antique tables.
Toki sat huddled in his bed.
They had followed him here.
He had thought the trip would mean a few precious days of release. A few days of safety.
He couldn't remember any more how long they had been visiting him in the night. They sometimes whispered their names to him, but he covered his ears, and refused to listen.
They were ancient, that much he knew. And there was something dry about them, as if they had not even the memory of water in them.
What he wanted to do was tell Charles about them. The angel Charles. He would come to Toki's room, and wrap his fabulous wings about them both, and hold him all night, and keep him safe.
But Charles was going to leave them. He had said it the other day, leaning over that sheaf of papers, hiding behind those troubling dark glasses, and telling them there would be no more Dethklok.
Toki heard a rustling, and pulled the covers tighter.
Charles didn't care for them any more. And it was probably Toki's fault. He was bad, just as his father had told him. Just as they now whispered to him in the night, dry voices crackling.
They couldn't keep their angel any more. He would surely leave them.
He shuddered, feeling the dry heat approaching.
Sometimes Isis and Nephthys would come and send the creatures away.
Sometimes, they would smile. And leave him.
Toki started. The door swung open. A figure stood in the doorway, small and slim, bathed in light. He came over to sit at the foot of Toki's bed.
"Toki," said Osiris, "I've been wanting to have a word with you."
Isis and Nephthys stood in the doorway now, silent, intently texting each other on their PDA's.
LOL LOL LOL.
End of Part 1
On to Part 2
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-03-05 03:27 am (UTC)Sorta long story: funding ran out on my old job (I do medical research at a university), but I was lucky enough to get a new job right away. And, it's actually a pretty awesome job. And, I think they like me, yay. But, it's exhausting, and I ams nots da young kids. My husband has come home and literally found me just STARING.
So, I've been trying to keep the Mythklok to once a week. This chapter was FEROCIOUSLY difficult to write, since I started it when I was also starting the job (it takes me about a month of tinkering to get a real chapter out). Really, it was my worst experience since grinding out Chapter 2. The next two chapters have been almost writing themselves, so I'm hoping things will even out. But, as I said, it'll be once a week for your chapters.
Was this way too much information? :-P
no subject
Date: 2011-03-05 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-05 05:13 am (UTC)You must waaaaiiiiiit......