Sniffles (Mythklok Interstitial)
May. 12th, 2011 12:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: The Sniffles (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Angel baby bugs
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing
Notes: I think I should dedicated this to Sushi, who LOOOVES angelbabies. :D
Ganesh’s residence….
In the months since the being known as Elias had come to live with Sariel and Ganesh on earth, one of his signal achievements had been learning to sleep through the night.
His father, Sariel, however, had not yet picked up this trick.
"Did you hear something over the monitor?"
"No,” muttered Ganesh, his sleepy arms full of worried angel.
Sariel had now wriggled partway out of his grip, and was glowering fiercely at the monitor, as if this would make if give up its secrets.
"I'm sure I heard something," Sariel persisted.
"Well, we shall have to go and check," Ganesh yawned. In these same few months, Ganesh had learned not to argue about such matters. He deferred to his wise Uncle Wotan in these things, and Wotan had argued to the inflexibility of certain angelic notions. Ganesh therefore slipped on a robe and good naturally follow Sariel out to the nursery where, unsurprisingly, their child lay sleeping peacefully, clutching tightly the tiny stuffed elephant gifted him by his indulgent Auntie Sarasvati.
He stirred slightly, and Sariel scooped them up, boy and plush pachyderm. "There you are," he smiled. But his expression quickly melted to one of concern. "He feels a little warm! Does he feel warm to you?"
Ganesh tried to hide his smile. Sariel had of late become concerned that their child was suffering from some heretofore undescribed illness or birth defect. Ganesh, who sometimes practiced pediatric medicine, had decided that his partner was simply going through a developmental stage of some kind, and that humoring thereof was probably the best solution. "Well, let me see,” he said, receiving a drowsy Elias into his arms. “Perhaps we shall take him back to sleep with us, so we may more carefully monitor his status."
The boy frowned.
And then he sneezed.
And then there was a small bang as the antique clock on the mantelpiece exploded, shattering into a hundred small pieces.
"Whoa!" said Sariel.
Elias blinked, cross-eyed.
"Uh, did he do that?" Sariel asked, holding up a splinter of what used to be a wooden cuckoo.
"I must assume so,” Ganesh said. “In that I have had this clock for a century, and it has not yet exploded."
Elias inevitably sneezed for a second time, which was followed by the swift death of a table lamp.
“Uh. Is this sort of unusual?” asked Sariel.
“Speaking as a doctor? Yes.”
“What do we do?” Sariel worried.
“Well. Er. I would keep him away from the media room for now,” Ganesh counseled, wiping the child’s nose with a tissue. “I just had that new television monitor installed.”
Mordhaus, the office of Charles Ofdensen….
"Yours is doing it too?” Raziel’s voice crackled through the speakerphone. “I thought sure it was hay fever!"
"Ganesh thinks it must be some kind of virus,” said Sariel, as Ganesh, standing over his shoulder, silently nodded.
"Oh, so we caught it from Boon?"
"How do you know Boon didn't catch it from your brats!"
"He's always giving Abby those sloppy little kisses! You're gonna have to reign that boy in!"
"ABBY IS CLEARLY LEADING HIM ON!"
"Jaanu!" Ganesh sighed. Sariel glared. Ganesh leaned over Sariel's shoulder to speak into the microphone. "So Liam and Abby are similarly affected?" the Hindu god inquired.
There was a tiny "Choo!" and the tinkle of glass over the telephone speaker.
"Hold on you guys!" Raziel's voice crackled. "That’s Wotan's favorite decanter! I mean, that WAS Wotan’s favorite decanter.”
“Lady Raziel,” Ganesh said. “Why don’t you bring them both down here and I will conduct an examination?”
“Wait,” groused, Sariel, holding the MUTE button. “You wanna bring more explosive babies down here? Why the hell not up at your place?”
“Well, er, Mordhaus is more equipped for, shall we say, natural disasters,” Ganesh smiled.
Sariel sighed and held the bridge of his nose. “OK. OK. Look. I got some telecons coming up this afternoon. Can you at least keep ‘em outta my way until after that?”
“That should be no problem!” Ganesh assured him.
Sariel ran a hand through the short hair atop his head.
Some hours later, the telephone conference had finally ground to its anything but premature death. Sariel walked to his quarters, looking for Ganesh and his son, but came up empty. He had a twinge of concern, almost like a sixth sense, and so headed towards Dethklok’s living area. He heard a loud pop when he neared the game room, and broke out in a run. He arrived at the threshold to see the smoking remains of an amplifier, and the band hooting, “GO, LIAM!” as Nathan wiped the smiling redheaded angelbaby’s drippy nose.
“That’s… That’s one of your amplifiers!” Sariel protested.
“Yeah, but it’sch one of the Krank onesch,” Murderface helpfully pointed out.
“Well, OK,” said Sariel. “But where the hell is Ganesh?”
“Gannish dood had t’ meet wit’ some horrid doods,” Pickles piped up. Baby Abby was contentedly playing “Stab the demon” with her Pretty Princess doll at his feet.
“Then where is fucking Raziel?” Sariel asked.
“Raziel ams has to gets da manic cures!” Toki supplied as Elias happily flapped his wings on the guitarist’s lap. “So we ams says dat we ams babbity sats!”
“Can we schet up for the nexscht round, Ofdenschen?” Murderface grumbled.
“Guys. Absolutely not! These kids are sick! You need to quit this game. Now,” Sariel grumbled.
There were various moans and groans of displeasure.
“That’s OK. Liam is so far out front, there’s NO WAY Boon could catch up,” Nathan told Sariel.
“What?” said Sariel.
“I said Liam’s an AWESOME sneeze-sploder. But your kid….” Nathan began.
Sariel glowered.
Ganesh entered the game room, attracted by the shouts and small explosions, to find Sariel holding up their son and shouting, “HA! That was badass!”
“Pleasche don’t schay badassch,” Murderface grumbled.
“Er. Jaanu?” Ganesh asked Sariel.
“What?”
“Well, I apologize for my tardiness. I had stopped in your library to see if your Ophanim could help me locate some reference to this viral agent our children seem to have picked up among your angelic medical books.”
“And?”
“Well. Er. Have you been washing your hands following interactions with Boon?”
“Of course not!” Sariel scoffed.
Ganesh frowned. “It is simply, this particular agent also appears to affect adult angelic beings.”
“Ganesh. In two thousand years, I have NEVER got a cold. Why the fuck would I start now?”
“Yes, but you haven’t been around angelic children, and they tend to pick up things.”
“That’s non- non- non- non- CHOOOOOOOO!”
Elias flapped his wings in delight.
The rest of the group stood in awe.
An entire rack of amps, set aside for future rounds of the sneeze-splosion game, was now afire.
“Whoa!” said Nathan.
“Uhhhh. Allergies?” stuttered Sariel, as Ganesh took up Elias and handed over a handkerchief.
“I call Charlesh for my team!” Murderface shouted.
“We are sleeping down here tonight,” Ganesh sighed.
Sariel sneezed again.
An entire wall of television monitors imploded with a colorful showering of glass.
“...Out in a tent,” Ganesh concluded.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Angel baby bugs
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing
Notes: I think I should dedicated this to Sushi, who LOOOVES angelbabies. :D
Ganesh’s residence….
In the months since the being known as Elias had come to live with Sariel and Ganesh on earth, one of his signal achievements had been learning to sleep through the night.
His father, Sariel, however, had not yet picked up this trick.
"Did you hear something over the monitor?"
"No,” muttered Ganesh, his sleepy arms full of worried angel.
Sariel had now wriggled partway out of his grip, and was glowering fiercely at the monitor, as if this would make if give up its secrets.
"I'm sure I heard something," Sariel persisted.
"Well, we shall have to go and check," Ganesh yawned. In these same few months, Ganesh had learned not to argue about such matters. He deferred to his wise Uncle Wotan in these things, and Wotan had argued to the inflexibility of certain angelic notions. Ganesh therefore slipped on a robe and good naturally follow Sariel out to the nursery where, unsurprisingly, their child lay sleeping peacefully, clutching tightly the tiny stuffed elephant gifted him by his indulgent Auntie Sarasvati.
He stirred slightly, and Sariel scooped them up, boy and plush pachyderm. "There you are," he smiled. But his expression quickly melted to one of concern. "He feels a little warm! Does he feel warm to you?"
Ganesh tried to hide his smile. Sariel had of late become concerned that their child was suffering from some heretofore undescribed illness or birth defect. Ganesh, who sometimes practiced pediatric medicine, had decided that his partner was simply going through a developmental stage of some kind, and that humoring thereof was probably the best solution. "Well, let me see,” he said, receiving a drowsy Elias into his arms. “Perhaps we shall take him back to sleep with us, so we may more carefully monitor his status."
The boy frowned.
And then he sneezed.
And then there was a small bang as the antique clock on the mantelpiece exploded, shattering into a hundred small pieces.
"Whoa!" said Sariel.
Elias blinked, cross-eyed.
"Uh, did he do that?" Sariel asked, holding up a splinter of what used to be a wooden cuckoo.
"I must assume so,” Ganesh said. “In that I have had this clock for a century, and it has not yet exploded."
Elias inevitably sneezed for a second time, which was followed by the swift death of a table lamp.
“Uh. Is this sort of unusual?” asked Sariel.
“Speaking as a doctor? Yes.”
“What do we do?” Sariel worried.
“Well. Er. I would keep him away from the media room for now,” Ganesh counseled, wiping the child’s nose with a tissue. “I just had that new television monitor installed.”
Mordhaus, the office of Charles Ofdensen….
"Yours is doing it too?” Raziel’s voice crackled through the speakerphone. “I thought sure it was hay fever!"
"Ganesh thinks it must be some kind of virus,” said Sariel, as Ganesh, standing over his shoulder, silently nodded.
"Oh, so we caught it from Boon?"
"How do you know Boon didn't catch it from your brats!"
"He's always giving Abby those sloppy little kisses! You're gonna have to reign that boy in!"
"ABBY IS CLEARLY LEADING HIM ON!"
"Jaanu!" Ganesh sighed. Sariel glared. Ganesh leaned over Sariel's shoulder to speak into the microphone. "So Liam and Abby are similarly affected?" the Hindu god inquired.
There was a tiny "Choo!" and the tinkle of glass over the telephone speaker.
"Hold on you guys!" Raziel's voice crackled. "That’s Wotan's favorite decanter! I mean, that WAS Wotan’s favorite decanter.”
“Lady Raziel,” Ganesh said. “Why don’t you bring them both down here and I will conduct an examination?”
“Wait,” groused, Sariel, holding the MUTE button. “You wanna bring more explosive babies down here? Why the hell not up at your place?”
“Well, er, Mordhaus is more equipped for, shall we say, natural disasters,” Ganesh smiled.
Sariel sighed and held the bridge of his nose. “OK. OK. Look. I got some telecons coming up this afternoon. Can you at least keep ‘em outta my way until after that?”
“That should be no problem!” Ganesh assured him.
Sariel ran a hand through the short hair atop his head.
Some hours later, the telephone conference had finally ground to its anything but premature death. Sariel walked to his quarters, looking for Ganesh and his son, but came up empty. He had a twinge of concern, almost like a sixth sense, and so headed towards Dethklok’s living area. He heard a loud pop when he neared the game room, and broke out in a run. He arrived at the threshold to see the smoking remains of an amplifier, and the band hooting, “GO, LIAM!” as Nathan wiped the smiling redheaded angelbaby’s drippy nose.
“That’s… That’s one of your amplifiers!” Sariel protested.
“Yeah, but it’sch one of the Krank onesch,” Murderface helpfully pointed out.
“Well, OK,” said Sariel. “But where the hell is Ganesh?”
“Gannish dood had t’ meet wit’ some horrid doods,” Pickles piped up. Baby Abby was contentedly playing “Stab the demon” with her Pretty Princess doll at his feet.
“Then where is fucking Raziel?” Sariel asked.
“Raziel ams has to gets da manic cures!” Toki supplied as Elias happily flapped his wings on the guitarist’s lap. “So we ams says dat we ams babbity sats!”
“Can we schet up for the nexscht round, Ofdenschen?” Murderface grumbled.
“Guys. Absolutely not! These kids are sick! You need to quit this game. Now,” Sariel grumbled.
There were various moans and groans of displeasure.
“That’s OK. Liam is so far out front, there’s NO WAY Boon could catch up,” Nathan told Sariel.
“What?” said Sariel.
“I said Liam’s an AWESOME sneeze-sploder. But your kid….” Nathan began.
Sariel glowered.
Ganesh entered the game room, attracted by the shouts and small explosions, to find Sariel holding up their son and shouting, “HA! That was badass!”
“Pleasche don’t schay badassch,” Murderface grumbled.
“Er. Jaanu?” Ganesh asked Sariel.
“What?”
“Well, I apologize for my tardiness. I had stopped in your library to see if your Ophanim could help me locate some reference to this viral agent our children seem to have picked up among your angelic medical books.”
“And?”
“Well. Er. Have you been washing your hands following interactions with Boon?”
“Of course not!” Sariel scoffed.
Ganesh frowned. “It is simply, this particular agent also appears to affect adult angelic beings.”
“Ganesh. In two thousand years, I have NEVER got a cold. Why the fuck would I start now?”
“Yes, but you haven’t been around angelic children, and they tend to pick up things.”
“That’s non- non- non- non- CHOOOOOOOO!”
Elias flapped his wings in delight.
The rest of the group stood in awe.
An entire rack of amps, set aside for future rounds of the sneeze-splosion game, was now afire.
“Whoa!” said Nathan.
“Uhhhh. Allergies?” stuttered Sariel, as Ganesh took up Elias and handed over a handkerchief.
“I call Charlesh for my team!” Murderface shouted.
“We are sleeping down here tonight,” Ganesh sighed.
Sariel sneezed again.
An entire wall of television monitors imploded with a colorful showering of glass.
“...Out in a tent,” Ganesh concluded.
