Revival (Mythklok Interstitial)
Jun. 20th, 2011 10:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Revival (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: How to stand on your own two feet following a Dethklok bachelor party
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs
"Did we break him this time?"
"Naw. Dood. He's fine. He's fine."
Nathan let Charles slide off the bigger man's shoulders and onto the couch in his office, where he lay, absolutely still for a moment.
“Uh. Charles. Dood?” Pickles ventured, leaning over. He was knocked over by an answering snore of surprising volume.
“Whoa,” said Pickles, sitting and shaking his head, dreadlocks all swept back from the blast.
“Charles. Dude. YOU AWAKE?” boomed Nathan. He was answered only by more sawing wood.
“He’s breathin’. Dat means he’s alive!” diagnosed Dr. Pickles.
“Yeah, but we need him STANDING UP,” worried his colleague, Dr. Explosion.
“What’sch the matter, gentlemen?” asked Murderface, who had just breezed, no doubt attracted by the sound of something ridiculous about to happen.
“I think the BACHELOR PARTY caused a LOSS OF CONSCIOUSNESS,” said Nathan. “What did you give him, Pickles?”
“Oh, just some ‘o dis, and some o’ dat,” said Pickles, emptying his pockets of various pills, powders and potions, “An’ a little o’ dis and a splash o’ dat stuff and two o’ dese and t’ree of dose….”
“Juscht the uschual,” Murderface observed.
“Yeh, just da usual,” said Pickles of the rather substantial pile now spilling over the coffee table.
“Perhapsch, we schould inquire of Jacque?” Murderface asked, taking out his Dethphone.
“Oh, yeah, he’s a PIRATE, he would know these things!” Nathan agreed as Murderface hit his speed dial.
“What’s the matter with you little cocksuckers now?” demanded Jacque, who suddenly appeared in the office.
“Uhhhhhhh,” said Nathan. “Mr. Ogoun, we sort of BROKE YOUR BOY.”
“Is the little cocksucker still sleeping off the bachelor party?” Jacque asked, slapping Charles’ cheeks. Charles continued snoring, but now began to drool. “Ah, that’s the Seraph in him. They can’t take the rum!”
“What doo we doo, t’ wake him up, dood?” asked Pickles.
“Well, you can throw him into shark-infested water. That’s one way!” Jacque counseled.
“DAMN!” said Nathan. “All our sharks are out for DRY CLEANING this week.”
“Ah, too fucking bad, that’s a great way to get a motherfucking pirate hook!” Jacque lamented. “Well, I’ll just have to call Orula. He the revival expert.” Jacque punched some numbers in his cell phone.
“I am ORULA!” Orula told them, to a sudden thunder crash.
“Oi. That was a quite nice bachelor party last night,” Chango, who had also appeared, put in.
“Oh, yes, quite nice little affair!” Orula said.
“Was too much for the motherfucking groom,” Jacque said, indicated the still peacefully snoring Charles. “Can you get his lazy ass up, Orula.”
“Oi, Orula is the world renowned expert in the art and science of revival techniques,” Chango counseled.
“My educational video is available, operators are standing by,” Orula supplied.
“And if you call now, we’ll get you some Ginsu knives!”
“Hey, that’s a GOOD DEAL!” Nathan remarked.
“They cut through stainless steel!” Chango attested.
“Now, stand aside,” Orula told them, “and observe the master at work.” He flourished his cape dramatically and chanted, “BOOLA-BOOLAH!”
Thunder cooperatively crashed,
All stared down expectantly at Charles,who briefly hitched his breathing, and then began snoring even louder.
"Huh. That one usually works," Orula noted.
"BRAAAAAIIIIIINS!” All turned to see Murderface, seemingly in a trance, stumble, moaning, out of the room. “BRAAAAINS!” There was a scream in the outer office.
“Well, that was highly unusual!” noted Orula.
“Oi. Quite so,” agreed Chango.
“Why, are you fellows all still awake after last night’s episode?” yawned Ganesh, who had just appeared in the office.
“ALL BUT ONE!” Nathan told him, waving at Charles, who was now comfortably curled around a throw pillow.
“Dood. Any ideas how t’ wake him up?”
"Tsk! After all this time , do you fellows still know nothing of dealing with angels!" Ganesh huffed. With a flourish of his hand, he was suddenly holding an oven-fresh pie.
“Strawberry rhubarb,” he cooed, holding the fragrant pastry right under Charles’ nose. But then he suddenly screamed, “AIIIIIII!!!!”
“Whoa, dood!” said Pickles.
“I didn’t think that was possible if you were asleep,” said Nathan, marveling at the empty pie plate now in Ganesh’s disbelieving hands. Ganesh began elaborately counting his fingers, to make sure none had been lost.
“That’s my boy,” grinned Jacque proudly.
“Well, there’s clearly only option,” said Ganesh, after had assured himself that all 240 digits were present and accounted for. He took out his own cell phone and typed a quick text message.
“Yeah?” said Raziel, who had just appeared. “I got your SE:BP text. What did you guys do now?”
Ganesh indicated the snoring angel. “We require him ambulatory.”
“No problem.” Raziel grinned and sat down on the couch next to Charles. She pulled out her cell phone, and pretended to talk on it
"Well, hello, my good friend, Chris Cornell of Soundgarden. Why, yes, Chris Cornell, I am fine. What is that, Chris Cornell? Why, yes, as I told you, Chris Cornell, you may come to Charles and Ganesh’s wedding reception, but YOU MUST WEAR A SHIRT. No, I am sorry, Chris Cornell, but I cannot compromise on this...."
"WHAT. WAIT! GIVE ME THAT PHONE," Charles screamed, wrestling away Raziel's cell phone. "Hello? Hello? Chris?"
"Ta-dah," laughed Raziel, standing up. "You guys need me for anything else?” she asked as Charles ineffectually continued to push buttons on her phone. “I gotta go yell at the state of Oregon. They won’t believe I need their entire rhubarb crop for pies.”
“Naw, we’re fine, we just needed him STANDING,” Nathan noted. Raziel nodded and disappeared.
"Oh. Fuck. Is it already time for the ceremony?" asked Charles, bonking Raziel’s unresponsive phone on the arm of the couch.
"No. It's time for HIS BACHELOR PARTY!" Nathan told him, waving at Ganesh.
"Er. Do I have time to nip back to my house and change clothes?" Ganesh asked.
"NOOOOO!" shouted absolutely everybody.
“C’mon dude, time to GET WASTED,” Nathan said, grabbing Ganesh around the shoulders and hustling him out of the office as the rest of the crowd followed.
“Are we accompanying Mr. Murderface?” inquired Orula. “We should probably steer clear of places with tempting central nervous systems for right now.”
“Don’t think that will be a problem,” said Jacque.
“Can yoo stand, dood,” asked Pickles as he steadied Charles to his feet.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t give me any more of that shit.”
“Wut shit? Dis shit?”
“Uh, no, that other shit.”
“Dat shit?”
“Uh, I’m not actually sure.”
“Wanna try?”
“Yeah, sure why not?”
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: How to stand on your own two feet following a Dethklok bachelor party
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs
"Did we break him this time?"
"Naw. Dood. He's fine. He's fine."
Nathan let Charles slide off the bigger man's shoulders and onto the couch in his office, where he lay, absolutely still for a moment.
“Uh. Charles. Dood?” Pickles ventured, leaning over. He was knocked over by an answering snore of surprising volume.
“Whoa,” said Pickles, sitting and shaking his head, dreadlocks all swept back from the blast.
“Charles. Dude. YOU AWAKE?” boomed Nathan. He was answered only by more sawing wood.
“He’s breathin’. Dat means he’s alive!” diagnosed Dr. Pickles.
“Yeah, but we need him STANDING UP,” worried his colleague, Dr. Explosion.
“What’sch the matter, gentlemen?” asked Murderface, who had just breezed, no doubt attracted by the sound of something ridiculous about to happen.
“I think the BACHELOR PARTY caused a LOSS OF CONSCIOUSNESS,” said Nathan. “What did you give him, Pickles?”
“Oh, just some ‘o dis, and some o’ dat,” said Pickles, emptying his pockets of various pills, powders and potions, “An’ a little o’ dis and a splash o’ dat stuff and two o’ dese and t’ree of dose….”
“Juscht the uschual,” Murderface observed.
“Yeh, just da usual,” said Pickles of the rather substantial pile now spilling over the coffee table.
“Perhapsch, we schould inquire of Jacque?” Murderface asked, taking out his Dethphone.
“Oh, yeah, he’s a PIRATE, he would know these things!” Nathan agreed as Murderface hit his speed dial.
“What’s the matter with you little cocksuckers now?” demanded Jacque, who suddenly appeared in the office.
“Uhhhhhhh,” said Nathan. “Mr. Ogoun, we sort of BROKE YOUR BOY.”
“Is the little cocksucker still sleeping off the bachelor party?” Jacque asked, slapping Charles’ cheeks. Charles continued snoring, but now began to drool. “Ah, that’s the Seraph in him. They can’t take the rum!”
“What doo we doo, t’ wake him up, dood?” asked Pickles.
“Well, you can throw him into shark-infested water. That’s one way!” Jacque counseled.
“DAMN!” said Nathan. “All our sharks are out for DRY CLEANING this week.”
“Ah, too fucking bad, that’s a great way to get a motherfucking pirate hook!” Jacque lamented. “Well, I’ll just have to call Orula. He the revival expert.” Jacque punched some numbers in his cell phone.
“I am ORULA!” Orula told them, to a sudden thunder crash.
“Oi. That was a quite nice bachelor party last night,” Chango, who had also appeared, put in.
“Oh, yes, quite nice little affair!” Orula said.
“Was too much for the motherfucking groom,” Jacque said, indicated the still peacefully snoring Charles. “Can you get his lazy ass up, Orula.”
“Oi, Orula is the world renowned expert in the art and science of revival techniques,” Chango counseled.
“My educational video is available, operators are standing by,” Orula supplied.
“And if you call now, we’ll get you some Ginsu knives!”
“Hey, that’s a GOOD DEAL!” Nathan remarked.
“They cut through stainless steel!” Chango attested.
“Now, stand aside,” Orula told them, “and observe the master at work.” He flourished his cape dramatically and chanted, “BOOLA-BOOLAH!”
Thunder cooperatively crashed,
All stared down expectantly at Charles,who briefly hitched his breathing, and then began snoring even louder.
"Huh. That one usually works," Orula noted.
"BRAAAAAIIIIIINS!” All turned to see Murderface, seemingly in a trance, stumble, moaning, out of the room. “BRAAAAINS!” There was a scream in the outer office.
“Well, that was highly unusual!” noted Orula.
“Oi. Quite so,” agreed Chango.
“Why, are you fellows all still awake after last night’s episode?” yawned Ganesh, who had just appeared in the office.
“ALL BUT ONE!” Nathan told him, waving at Charles, who was now comfortably curled around a throw pillow.
“Dood. Any ideas how t’ wake him up?”
"Tsk! After all this time , do you fellows still know nothing of dealing with angels!" Ganesh huffed. With a flourish of his hand, he was suddenly holding an oven-fresh pie.
“Strawberry rhubarb,” he cooed, holding the fragrant pastry right under Charles’ nose. But then he suddenly screamed, “AIIIIIII!!!!”
“Whoa, dood!” said Pickles.
“I didn’t think that was possible if you were asleep,” said Nathan, marveling at the empty pie plate now in Ganesh’s disbelieving hands. Ganesh began elaborately counting his fingers, to make sure none had been lost.
“That’s my boy,” grinned Jacque proudly.
“Well, there’s clearly only option,” said Ganesh, after had assured himself that all 240 digits were present and accounted for. He took out his own cell phone and typed a quick text message.
“Yeah?” said Raziel, who had just appeared. “I got your SE:BP text. What did you guys do now?”
Ganesh indicated the snoring angel. “We require him ambulatory.”
“No problem.” Raziel grinned and sat down on the couch next to Charles. She pulled out her cell phone, and pretended to talk on it
"Well, hello, my good friend, Chris Cornell of Soundgarden. Why, yes, Chris Cornell, I am fine. What is that, Chris Cornell? Why, yes, as I told you, Chris Cornell, you may come to Charles and Ganesh’s wedding reception, but YOU MUST WEAR A SHIRT. No, I am sorry, Chris Cornell, but I cannot compromise on this...."
"WHAT. WAIT! GIVE ME THAT PHONE," Charles screamed, wrestling away Raziel's cell phone. "Hello? Hello? Chris?"
"Ta-dah," laughed Raziel, standing up. "You guys need me for anything else?” she asked as Charles ineffectually continued to push buttons on her phone. “I gotta go yell at the state of Oregon. They won’t believe I need their entire rhubarb crop for pies.”
“Naw, we’re fine, we just needed him STANDING,” Nathan noted. Raziel nodded and disappeared.
"Oh. Fuck. Is it already time for the ceremony?" asked Charles, bonking Raziel’s unresponsive phone on the arm of the couch.
"No. It's time for HIS BACHELOR PARTY!" Nathan told him, waving at Ganesh.
"Er. Do I have time to nip back to my house and change clothes?" Ganesh asked.
"NOOOOO!" shouted absolutely everybody.
“C’mon dude, time to GET WASTED,” Nathan said, grabbing Ganesh around the shoulders and hustling him out of the office as the rest of the crowd followed.
“Are we accompanying Mr. Murderface?” inquired Orula. “We should probably steer clear of places with tempting central nervous systems for right now.”
“Don’t think that will be a problem,” said Jacque.
“Can yoo stand, dood,” asked Pickles as he steadied Charles to his feet.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t give me any more of that shit.”
“Wut shit? Dis shit?”
“Uh, no, that other shit.”
“Dat shit?”
“Uh, I’m not actually sure.”
“Wanna try?”
“Yeah, sure why not?”
