No Wing Angels (Mythklok, Chapter 57)
Jul. 6th, 2011 09:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: No Wing Angels (Mythklok, Chapter 57)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Angelic powers and hunger pangs.
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, s'mores.
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal,tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.
Last time: Ganesh sort of lost his temper with members of the press, and ended up giving them a lovely view of a toxic waste dump. So Charles waved his magical wings on the Nick Ibsen show to make things all better. However, Skwisgaar and Pickles have been consulting some discount witches. This may or may not be connected to Charles nipping out to the kitchen for a snack and ending up being chased by torch and pitchfork-wielding villagers.
Charles awoke from a fitful sleep at first light, stiff with cold, his stomach protesting mightily. He was intensely hungry: not as if he had simply skipped breakfast, but as it he hadn't eaten in a week. He wondered if he had been somewhere else in the time between when he entered Ganesh's kitchen and when he appeared in this place. Somewhere they apparently hadn't fed him well.
Not having any other ideas, he decided to follow the nearby stream for a while, walking in the opposite direction from the town he had appeared in (and been chased from) the previous night. As he walked, to keep his mind occupied away from his rumbling stomach and aching feet more than anything, he carefully considered who may have done this to him, and, better yet, various things he would do to them when at last he had his hands around their fucking necks.
It was around the middle of the day when the riders found him. He had left his eyeglasses shattered on the floor of the barn last night, so they were nearly upon him before he spotted them. As he was unfortunately in an area with little ground cover, and feeling unnaturally hungry and fatigued, he decided not to run, but to see if he could reason with them.
As it turned out, they reasoned with a lance.
"Poacher?" the one demanded.
"No, I am not a poacher," Charles told them, trying to hold the pointy bit of the weapon away from his neck. He wondered if these people had firearms. And if so, where to obtain one.
"You realize you are trespassing on His Lordship's grounds?" asked one of them, Frick or Frack.
"I apologize to His Lordship for the oversight. I was just following the stream."
"Out for a day's walk in your skivvies?"
"This isn't what I usually wear. I pack light to avoid checked luggage fees."
"What?" asked Frick.
"Maybe he's a simpleton?" commented Frack.
"Or an escaped prisoner?" ventured Frick.
"I am neither! I was just walking! AND I wanna point out, if I'm trespassing, the grounds aren't posted."
Both of the riders laughed.
"You don't know Lord Ganesh's estate? You are simple,” said Frick.
"Wait! Did you say Ganesh?" asked Charles, hoping his reduced state had not interfered with his hearing.
"Aye!"
"Look! Great! Just bring me to him! We can get all this cleared up."
"Crazy bare assed poacher, and you wish to be brought before Lord Ganesh?"
"Yes, that is exactly what I want! And I wanna point out for the record I’m wearing fucking pants!”
There was more laughter.
“Let’s stick him to the ground and leave him,” laughed Frack. He was the guy with the lance. He was too busy chuckling heartily to pay too much attention to his balance, so Charles managed to not only relieve him of the weapon but actually send him sprawling from his saddle when he wrested the lance away. He then used the butt end of the weapon to clobber the second guy as well.
He didn’t wait to see if the second guy fell or not, he was already off running. Again.
“Fucking fucking up universe,” he muttered. His feet were beyond pain.
It came out of nowhere, the pure black horse. He stopped short, nearly trampled, and then reversed course, diving into a patch of bushes and uneven ground where you would have had to be a crazy ass motherfucker to try to follow along on a horse.
Unfortunately, the horseman happened to be one crazy ass motherfucker, easily cantering around briars and brambles that ended up snagging either Charles’ already ragged pants or his increasingly ragged skin. And then, inevitably, he stumbled, and the horse’s forelegs were hovering over him. He threw up an arm. But the hooves came down just narrowly missing him, and he was wedged between some scrub and a rather large horse.
"And. What exactly are you supposed to be?" said the rider, leaning over to make an assessment. Hair hung down in his face, halfway hiding the grin.
A grin that seemed too big for his handsome face.
"Ganesh!” Charles exclaimed.
The rider regarded him for a long moment. “Lord Ganesh to you, I’d say.”
“You don't know me?" Charles said, excitedly scrambling to his aching feet.
"I think I might have remembered a little silver man running around my estate.” He smiled, miming running with two fingers
"Crap. OK. OK.” Charles pulled up his pajama pants, which, now torn to shreds, stubbornly fell down again. “This is probably an alternate universe again. That’s OK.” It wasn’t OK. He was tired and utterly famished and probably babbling. "Look. You may not know me, but I know you. And, I sort of need help right now."
"Let me guess: new wardrobe choices?"
"OK, cut the dry wit crap. You're a fucking softie. I know that. And you need to help me."
Ganesh appeared to be thinking.
“Maybe not today,” Ganesh said. “You’ve given me a bit of amusement though. Why don’t you get on your way, and we’ll call this even?” He spurred his horse.
“No! WAIT!”
Ganesh backed the horse.
“You have a birthmark! Your lower back," Charles shouted after him.
The horse stopped. Ganesh turned his mount. “Which side?” he asked.
“Left. Your family are musicians, but you don’t really like the sound of your singing voice.”
The lovely eyes narrowed.
"Uh. Your uncle taught you to ride like that. That's probably one of his you're riding right now. Uh, you don’t really get along with your dad. Who’s probably your late dad, if the universe is following the rules. And. You’re bored and don’t really know why.”
Ganesh glared at him for a moment. Fuck, now I’m really babbling, Charles thought. Maybe shouldn't have mentioned Shiva?
Ganesh seemed to recover himself. "You know, you just did in two of my lackeys. And decent lackeys are difficult to find in these parts."
"The second guy too? Ha. I wouldn't call ‘em decent."
Ganesh heaved a sigh. “All right. We shall ride back and hear you out. And then when I have decided beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are full of shit, you will leave. And not return. Agreed?”
Charles nodded. He didn't really have much choice.
Ganesh leaned over and stuck out his hand. Charles gripped it, and was tugged up in back of Ganesh on the horse. Ganesh immediately spurred the horse, leading Charles to grab him around the waist for support.
He smelled of fine spices, and Indian cigarettes.
Charles jerked back, but not from the motion of the horse.
This was his Ganesh. Not an alternate universe version, this one was his. He wasn’t exactly sure how he knew – the smell, the touch – but he knew.
What the hell could have happened, he wondered.
The ride back was not unlike driving in a late model sports car when Raziel was behind the wheel. Instead of avoiding hazards like ditches and hedges, Ganesh (and his mount) seemed to regard them as mildly entertaining features, and they were airborne nearly as often as if they were riding some damned kind of winged horse. Ganesh is bored, so he goes out riding like this, Charles thought. Well, at least he’s not been spending his time gnawing on Vogue Hommes models. Was there Vogue in this universe?
Ganesh swiftly dismounted outside the stables, tossing the reigns to a servant before Charles could manage to slide off. He hurried after Ganesh into the main residence. Ganesh grabbed a coat from a rack by the door and tossed it to Charles, who gratefully donned it, wrapping it around himself.
“You're looking a bit starved. We’ll get some dinner and talk,” Ganesh told him.
Charles’ eyes widened.
“Exactly how long did you say it has been since you’ve eaten?” Ganesh asked.
Charles looked up from where he was piling his third or fourth helping of something onto his plate. He wasn’t entirely certain what it was, but it was utterly delicious. Definitely the best food he had ever eaten. “Uh. Dunno. Since last night?” he munched.
“You are certain it has not been since last month?” said Ganesh, regarding the empty tureen. “Or perhaps last year? It’s a wonder you weren’t sent by my enemies to eat me out of house and home.
They hadn’t been dining and talking so much as Charles cramming food into his mouth and Ganesh watching with growing fascination. The coat was at least two sizes two big, so Charles had rolled up the sleeves, and sat unapologetically up on his knees in the chair, looking more than a bit like a silvery haired street urchin.
“I suppose I should ring for more,” Ganesh said, tapping a cigarette on the side of his empty plate.
“That’s a' ri’.”
“I might quite like to eat something myself,” Ganesh told him, ringing a bell.
A dark-haired servant entered.
Charles’ fork was thrown down, and he was off the chair.
“RAZIEL!”
She blinked dully at him.
"OK, I know, you have no idea who the fuck I am,” he told her. “But that’s OK, I know you.”
She remained silent.
“Uh. Are you OK?” he asked.
“She is new. She doesn’t speak much,” Ganesh told him.
“WHA’?” said Charles, picking something out of his teeth.
“We’ve been using her for housekeeping. I imagine she was formerly involved in prostitution, or something of the sort.”
Charles frowned. He looked at her. He felt a chill for some reason. “Raziel?” he said softly.
She quietly put down the tray she was holding. She looked at him sadly and began to unbutton her blouse.
“Uh. No! That’s not what I want.”
She lowered her blouse. She turned around, her back to him.
Charles froze. “Oh! Gods! Raziel! No!”
Ganesh had stood up. He approached her, cautiously. Charles was standing just back from her, hand over his mouth.
Ganesh sent a practiced hand down her bare back, tracing the two large, angry red scars that extended, side by side, nearly from shoulder to waist. He carefully pulled her blouse back up, and then leaned over to whisper something to her. She nodded and left.
He grabbed Charles by the elbow and marched him to a small private study, slamming the door closed.
“All right. All right. From the top please? No more food until I have some kind of an explanation. How is it you claim you know me?”
“We’re friends. Back… Well, back where we come from.”
“I am from here. At least that is what my family has led me to believe.”
“You’re not what you think you are.”
“Oh, and what am I?”
Charles was thoroughly glad he’d been given a chance to eat something first. He took a breath. “You’re a god.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And, uh, I’m an angel. Actually.”
Ganesh's expression darkened. "I'm not seeing any wings."
"I don't know what happened with that."
"You lost your wings? And Raziel? May I assume she is an angel as well?"
“She was,” Charles said sadly.
Ganesh simply frowned. “Raziel is another friend?”
“She’s sort of a relative.”
"Sort of a relative. How is that possible?"
"It's complicated."
“I would appreciate the entire story, Silver Man, without the constant verbal backspacing!”
Charles tried to control his breathing. He had seen Ganesh moody before, but not this moody. “Raziel’s dad and my mom were brother and sister. Or as close as they come with us. We’re angels. The neat little human rules don’t apply. But I think something’s gone wrong. I thought I had gotten sent to a different universe, but now I think someone has been fucking with our universe.”
“The entire universe? Not possible.”
“Yeah, well, you piss off a god, anything’s possible. And we’ve pissed off a lot of them.”
“The gods have all abandoned this place. Long ago. We are on our own here, Silver Man.”
“OK. Quit. Fucking. Calling me that.”
“What do you wish me to fucking call you?”
“I don’t know. Sariel is the name I used the longest.”
“You don’t even know your own name?”
Charles reddened. “I have lived two thousand years. You kinda tend to pick up a name or two.”
“You would have me believe that you are two thousand years old?”
“Well, give or take.”
“And you hadn’t eaten since the tenth century?” said Ganesh wryly.
“You wanted the whole story. I was an angel. And so was Raziel. I fucked up, and they tossed me out.”
“So, you’re both angels. But neither of you is really an angel? And why have you both descended from the heavens upon me?”
“You have to help us make this right.”
Ganesh sighed and looked away. “I don’t do that any more. I am quite finished with helping people.”
“Ganesh. Fuck! We have a kid.”
“WHAT? You and I?"
Charles nodded.
"How the hell is that possible?”
“You don’t want him back?”
“That’s not…. And. Are you saying you and I…?
“Yes, you and I.”
“No. None of this is possible.”
“I knew about the birthmark.”
“You probably paid off one of my ex-girlfriends.”
“GIRLFRIENDS? You. Don’t. Like. Women.”
“They seem to approve of me.” He frowned at Charles. "I wouldn't. Not with an angel...." He trailed off.
"No! It's you and fucking me! And what the hell? Why are you being so fucking pissy?"
"A weird thing I pull out of my garden now claims it is a long lost love? You are ridiculous! You are-“ But the rest of the sentence was silenced as Charles' mouth was suddenly covering his, and he was being pulled slowly downward, as Ganesh's resistance, which was rather of a token sort at first, disappeared completely within a few moments. The kiss continued, on the floor, for actually a rather long, quite nice time, until Charles suddenly felt himself being pushed back by the shoulders.
He grinned at Ganesh, who merely scowled.
And then Ganesh was on his feet.
“Go…. Go clean yourself up. I need to sleep on this. ALONE!”
Charles popped his head up in the bathtub. Warm. And clean. And safe, at least for the moment.
He propped a foot up on the edge of the tub. Charging around in the fucking underbrush had chewed the hell out of his poor feet. He decided he should probably quit teasing Ganesh for running around the house without his shoes all the time. His head still hurt where he'd been thumped, but he thought, feeling the bump, that maybe he had escaped the worst of it.
He frowned. He needed to think things through now. Thinking in a warm bathtub was quite nice, actually. Although thinking in the shower, with Ganesh, would have been nicer. Not that he would have gotten much thinking done. Which brought up another thought, what the fuck was wrong with Ganesh? Charles knew the guy could get moody, but this seemed out of character.
“Raziel!”
He had barely heard her enter the room. It was weird to see her quiet like this. She had an armload of what looked like clothes and a towel.
“Ganesh…. He could give you something for that…” she ventured, pointing to his battered foot.
“Gimme the towel,” he ordered, gesturing. She handed it over and he was out of the tub. “Look, I know you’ve been through some shit,” he told her, wrapping it around his waist, “but the quicker we figure this out, the quicker we can get out of this. All right? Can you talk now?"
Raziel slumped down on the edge of the bed. He sat down next to her. They were silent for a time. He felt a chill go through him, though not from being dripping wet. Ganesh seemed off, but Raziel seemed…. She seemed gutted.
“Raziel. What the fuck?" he finally asked.
"I'm not ... I’m not totally sure."
“What do you remember?”
“Everything,” she whispered.
“Everything?”
“From when they tore my wings off. By the sockets. Everything.”
He let it sink in. "Seraphim? Was it angels?" he urged. The sooner he knew, the better, he told himself.
"Angels. Yeah."
He was silent for a moment.
"I had a weird feeling,” Raziel said at last. “I went to the room, you know, where we keep ... the box? You know which one I'm talking about?"
Charles started. He felt something worse than hunger. "Our old friend?"
"Yeah. And, they were there. I don't know how they got past everything. All the protections we put on that room. But, it wasn’t really the room any more, you know? I went through the door….”
“And ended up someplace else?”
“Yeah. And, they … hurt me. And dumped me here. Gabriel. I think he was one of them."
“Fuck! Raziel! Why didn’t you fucking kill them?”
“I let them.”
“What?”
“She’s after my kids, Sariel. They won’t be safe until I track Her down.”
“But, Raziel, this… Your wings!”
“You’re not an angel any more. Why should I be?”
“I’m an idiot, Raziel.”
She was quiet for a time, hugging herself. "I miss them. The wings, I mean." She looked at him.
"Yeah, me too. I hate being a fucking angel. But I feel like something's missing."
“Did they get you too? You don’t have scars?”
“I just ended up here. I don’t remember anything in between. But I was hungry as hell.”
“You’re always hungry.”
He smiled faintly. He looked at Raziel. "How did you end up here? I mean at Ganesh’s place?”
"I knew you would find him. I knew you would find Ganesh. So I came here too."
“You knew I would be here?”
Raziel nodded. “It’s the kids, Sariel. It’s my kids, and Boon. Wotan suspected. But I just didn’t see this coming. And, I don’t know where we are. And," she said. She paused. "I want my kids so bad."
He recognized it. Later he thought it came from being around his own kid so much. He heard her breathing catch, and knew what was going to happen if he didn't stop it. No wings to pull out, so he gritted his teeth, and put an arm around her.
There were waterworks, but they were mercifully quiet. He pulled her up on the bed and lay beside her for a while, occasionally muttering, "It's OK. It's all right." It wasn't. But that was what you said.
And then the fatigue caught up with him.
She was gone when Charles awoke the next morning, though he noticed someone had spread a comforter out over him. He rose and picked through the pile of clothing Raziel had left for him. The sleep had been marvelous, but he noticed a million little aches and pains from the day before. And he was hungry as hell again. He found clothes that fit, more or less. The biggest problem was getting his swollen, sore feet into a pair of boots. At last he decided to just forget it and carry the shoes with him. Knowing Ganesh he probably had some kind of salve that, hopefully, wouldn't cause him to sprout any extra toes.
He noticed a note had been pushed under the door of his room. It said to meet in the laboratory. He (and his stomach) had been hoping that breakfast would be the first item on the agenda, but he thought perhaps the lab would have coffee and donuts. That's what labs were for, wasn't it?
It wasn’t difficult finding it. The space was magnificent. The vaulted ceiling was several stories high, and topped with an intricate stained glass window. It cast a weird light down on the entire room. There were shelves going practically all the way up, with a couple of rickety ladders pushed here and there. The shelves were laden with books, but also specimen jars and telescopes and flasks full of potions and jars full of colored powders and test tubes full of god knows what and animal skeletons. He thought he saw aquariums full of starfish and jellyfish and octopuses, and there were cages with birds and small animals.
The floor was striking as well. It had been marked up with arcane symbols in many different colors of chalk and in an amazingly intricate pattern, which nonetheless boiled down to a pentagram within a circle.
And kneeling in the center of the circle was Raziel.
“Raziel! What-?” He hurried towards her, but felt himself caught under the arms, picked up and jerked back.
“Kindly stay out of my pentagram! I was all the morning drawing that!” Ganesh stated, placing him down just outside the circle.
“Ganesh, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“You claim she is an angel? Then we are simply going to restore her wings!”
“Oh no you’re not!” said Charles, once more lunging towards Raziel.
“And why not?" asked Ganesh, once wrestling him up. "Last night you were on about my helping people!” he scolded.
“Ganesh! This isn’t helping! I know about your spells! They usually end in BOOM!”
“They barely ever end in boom! That is pure exaggeration!”
"I won't let you do this to her."
"I am the finest caster of spells in this territory!"
Charles raised an eyebrow, staring into Ganesh’s eyes. "Are you high?"
"What? Why? No! Well, only a bit. I only had a little smoke."
"Boom!" said Charles. Ganesh glowered.
"Are you guys gonna flirt, or are we gonna do this?" asked Raziel irritably from within the circle.
"Raziel!" said Charles.
"Sariel,” she said. “He claims he can do this. Let him try. Please?"
"You've seen his spells!"
"We need our powers back. Both of us,” she told him stubbornly.
"And she will be the easier if the two, if you are what you claim,” Ganesh explained as he picked up a cage. “A simple healing spell. You don't appear to be similarly affected, and I was given a rather good view yesterday." Ganesh opened the cage and took out a rooster. He held it near the circle, and flashed a knife blade.
"Aren't you a vegetarian?" asked Charles.
"No. But he is!" Ganesh grinned, indicating the rooster. “Or, was.” He deftly slit the throat of the bird, and blood dripped onto a sigil at the edge of the circle.
There wasn’t a boom, but a crackle. There was an arc, like electricity, that radiated from the sigil to Raziel.
And then there was a boom. A very big boom. A concussion that radiated from the center of the room.
Charles dove for cover against the wall. He cautiously peered between his fingers. Raziel was no longer visible in the middle of the circle. It was aflame.
"Shit! No! Raziel!" he cried. He leapt up, thinking to rush to the center, but the heat was beyond belief, like a wall of fire. “Raziel!” he called again. There was no answer.
And then with a loud hiss, the flames suddenly converged.
It looked like a giant winged thing. A phoenix? Made of pure orange flame.
And then, with a whoosh, the flame was not there, and Raziel stood in the middle of the circle, dark wings unfurled, holding a silver sword.
Ignoring the chalk marks, which had mostly been burnt away, Charles leapt to the center of the circle, where he held a very surprised looking Raziel by her shoulders.
"Wow!" she said. "Look!" She wagged her wings.
"Wow," Charles agreed. They looked perfect. But the greatest change was not her wings. Her eyes were no longer dull and glassy, and even her unearthly pale skin looked healthier.
"He could do you next!" Raziel told him.
It was then that they both looked over to where Ganesh had been standing. "Oh, shit!" said Charles.
Where Ganesh had been a few moments ago, there was instead a giant pile of charred books, jars, powders and potions. It appeared that he had been slammed into the wall of the laboratory during the commotion, and brought down all the shelving on top of him.
Raziel and Charles rushed over and started to dig through the debris. There were a variety of small animals, evidently loosed from cages, now crawling or flapping around.
"Wait, is that a foot?" asked Raziel, easily tossing away something that looked like a safe.
"Ganesh?" said Charles, frantically pulling away a terrarium and a badly smashed telescope.
The ends of his hair were smoking. His eyes were closed.
"Is he alive?" Raziel asked.
But then Ganesh reached out. With two pairs of arms. He grabbed Charles.
"Our son! Where is our son?" he demanded.
"I don't know. I don't know,” Charles told him, similing in relief. “But we'll get him back. OK?"
Ganesh's eyes slid over to Raziel. "Holy fuck! You're an angel!"
Raziel and Charles exchanged a confused glance. "Wait. You don't remember?" Raziel asked as Charles helped the shaky god to his feet.
"Boomerang," Ganesh said, shaking off the dust. "Sometimes a spell will backfire on you. I guess I needed to be healed as well. It's all murky. But now I've gone and destroyed my laboratory!" He cast a miserable glance around. It was true: what hadn't been brought down when he had crashed against the wall had been terribly scorched. “I am not certain what to do now. This is a sorry state of things."
"Breakfast?" asked Charles hopefully.
"You are hungry again?" Ganesh said in wonder.
"Huh. I guess he really doesn't remember," laughed Raziel.
Lord Ganesh sat irritably tamping his cigarette on his plate, watching the angels. The girl was now somehow returned to looking like a girl. But she looked different too. He wasn't certain how. The vulnerability was gone, or at least better hidden. She positively radiated magic now.
He could see magic. This was another wonder. She had a kind of power that radiated off her. Ganesh did as well, he now saw, gazing at his own hand.
She sat at the breakfast table breaking off crumbs from a muffin and feeding it to a raven that was now hanging around. It must have gotten loose from the laboratory. Did angels have familiars? Some of his servants gave her a second glance: a servant eating at the breakfast table. But they were well trained, and probably accustomed to their master's eccentricities.
And silver Sariel was feeding his face once again. Evidently, angels either ate absolutely nothing, or everything that wasn't actually nailed down. Here was another puzzle: he didn’t evince any magic at all. Quite the opposite: he seemed to be some kind of magical black hole.
"There is one thing to do," Ganesh told them. The girl looked up, but the other wouldn't quit feeding, though it did grunt, "Uh-huh?"
"I seem to have recovered at least some of my powers, but my memories are faulty," Ganesh said, looking at his second set of arms. How did you even dress yourself like this? "And Sariel has his memories, but evidently cannot summon his powers. We are in need of more magical intervention, but my laboratory will take months to rebuild, and we may be at earnest."
"Earnest?" asked Raziel. "Does that mean really sincere?"
"I think he means we gotta hurry," Charles munched.
"Ah. Gotcha."
Ganesh frowned. "I think we ought seek out my mother. She is a magic user of some repute, and her estate possesses the necessary facilities."
"Uh, how far away?" Charles smacked.
"It's only a few days ride."
"We're going on horseback?"
"Unless your friend is capable of flying us? Can you not ride?"
"Thing is, the idiots that first night broke my fucking glasses. I can't see my hand in front of my face."
"You need spectacles?"
The silver man frowned.
"Eyeglasses?" Ganesh sighed.
"If I wanna see? Yeah." He shrugged and continued eating, but looked a bit downcast. Ganesh frowned as well. Really, there was no need to be so harsh to the odd man. He wasn't responsible for everything that had befallen Ganesh of late.
"I might have something," Ganesh told them. He rose, and set off down the hall. You're helping again, he reminded himself. His mind shunted aside the regret. He had set off on this path when he put the girl in the middle of the circle he told himself.
He returned soon to the dining room with a large wooden box box. "It is perhaps a good thing I did not store these in the laboratory!" he commented as he lifted the lid.
Sariel actually stopped eating. "You make glasses?" he said in wonder. There must have been a hundred pairs.
"A hobby," scoffed Ganesh.
Charles was already sifting through them, looking for the correct strength. Raziel's raven was inspecting them as well.
"Wait, those were pretty good!" Charles protested as Raziel pulled off a pair and fished through the box.
"They make your face look too long," she said.
"You might try one of these if your eyes have troubles in bright light," Ganesh told them. "I have incorporated a tint into the lens."
"Oh! These are cool!" Raziel approved.
"Raziel! I don't need to be cool! I just.... Hey, these are OK."
"So. You were expecting to be visited by a nearsighted angel?" Raziel asked.
"No! Of course not! That's absurd!" Ganesh scoffed. "But there is one other thing. I think it would be wise for the lady to travel incognito."
"Do I get dark glasses too?" Raziel squealed, upsetting the raven. “Are there paparazzi here?’
"Papa…? Er, no, I was thinking of something a bit more, er, dramatic. It might not be safe, traveling with an, er, attractive young lady...."
Raziel grinned from ear to ear. Charles scowled at her.
"So I thought you might accompany us in the guise of a young boy?"
Raziel stared at him for a moment. "You want me to do drag? That is excellent!"
Sariel rolled his eyes, but Ganesh frowned. Angels were … weird.
"Foot," ordered Ganesh.
"You don't have to do this," Charles told him. "I could slap it on myself."
"Slap it? Are you...? And have you having all my healing salve for an angel snack? Certainly not. Foot!"
Charles obediently put a foot in his lap and Ganesh began to rub on the sticky goo. "It does smell pretty good," Charles allowed. "Onions?"
"Those are among the ingredients."
"Like the stuff you used to use on me?"
"I did?"
"I was scarred up? Well, more scarred up. And you used to put junk on to take away the scars."
"Sounds like something I'd do," Ganesh muttered. "I assume Raziel would have picked out a suitable outfit by now?"
"You are optimistic. You shouldn't have given her a choice."
“It’s just a traveling outfit!”
To Ganesh’s supreme annoyance, Sariel laughed.
“Other foot!” ordered Ganesh. "I would like to get going before nightfall. There is an inn not too far from here where I believe we may procure some suitable bodyguards for the journey."
"Just how dangerous is this area?" Sariel asked.
“Let us say it is not terribly hospitable. May I see your head now?”
“It’s just a bump. Hey, do you have any of those muffins left from breakfast?”
Ganesh sighed. “We might need to take along an extra horse with sufficient food for you.”
“That’s a great idea!” said Charles, standing up to try his feet.
“What might be best,” Ganesh advised, “If you can bear it, it you can ride in your stocking feet? The swelling should go down shortly.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ve ridden barefoot before.”
"Really?"
“Yeah, long story. Now, about those muffins?”
Ganesh had finally had to physically pick up a protesting Raziel and drag her out to the horses, as she had not yet selected among six alternate riding outfits. “But I wanna look cute!” she wailed. Charles had actually smiled. It was at least comforting to have annoying Raziel back.
Charles had been easier: Ganesh had just given him a sack lunch. He didn’t stop eating even when he mounted.
They took along only two horses, the fine black one that Ganesh had been riding when he’d come upon Charles, and Charles rode, in stocking feet, on a somewhat skittish mare. Charles wondered that Ganesh had selected faster mounts for the journey. Was he expecting to be pursued?
But nothing untoward happened for the first few miles, and, just as it was going dark, they came upon the Inn Ganesh had mentioned. “I’d like to hire a fellow or two here,” he explained to them as they dismounted. Charles had pleasant visions of a cozy fireplace, cold beer, and barmaids in low cut dresses.
The visions vanished swiftly as they barely missed being bowled over by a rather large fellow being tossed out the front door.
“FUCKING DOUCHE BAG!” came a cry from the inside.
Charles and Raziel looked at each other excitedly. They both pointed inside.
“That guy!” said Raziel.
“Ganesh, you gotta hire that guy!” Charles told him.
“But, you haven’t even seen him yet!” Ganesh told them. He shook his head, and then proceeded into the maelstrom. Glasses, bottles and chairs were flying everywhere. And sitting regally in the eye of the storm, Nathan Explosion, casually knocking back a beer as if the riot happening all around him was being broadcast instead on television. Which, by the way, didn’t seem to exist in this universe.
“That guy is good,” Charles assured Ganesh, who shrugged and, ducking a plate of nachos (which oddly, did seem to exist in this universe) strode over to the singer.
"Don't you have any FUCKING CHIPS in this place? A man needs his FUCKING CHIPS!" Nathan was patiently explaining by tossing the bartender across the room
“Greetings, my friend. I am looking to hire a man of your qualifications for some work, said Ganesh, sitting down next to Nathan at his table.
“What do you wanna hire me for?” Nathan asked suspiciously.
"Well," said Ganesh, "I am a rich person, with more money than sense. And, my friends and I are embarking on a journey through this territory. It would help us to have some assistance along the way." A man had come up behind Ganesh, holding a knife. Without looking behind him, Ganesh grabbed the man by the collar and brought his face down hard on the table. The man collapsed.
"What kinda assistance, EXACTLY?" Nathan growled. Another man rushed him from behind, and got Nathan's fist in his face for his trouble.
"Oh. A bit of this. A bit of that," Ganesh told him, tossing yet another man over the table. “Should be pretty routine."
"Is there PAY?" Nathan asked, smashing someone’s head with his beer stein. "Hey!" he yelled at the barmaid. "More beer over here!"
"Enough to keep you in beer and barmaids and, er, chips for a very long time, I promise," Ganesh assured him. Both men stood and overturned the table onto a knot of men who were rushing them.
“Sounds OK. I’m kind of BORED here. I’m Nathan by the way."
“It is very good to meet you, Nathan. I am Ganesh," said the god, shaking his hand.
“You stayin’ here?”
"I thought to camp by the riverside a few miles up. I like the fresh air. And the rooms here are, er, nonsmoking, if you know what I mean."
"Awesome," said Nathan, clobbering a man with a chip bag. He opened the bag and began to eat the smashed chips.
True to Ganesh's word, they made camp a few miles up the road. Once the tent was set up, Ganesh lit up something that was neither a campfire nor an Indian cigarette and passed it on to Nathan.
"So, Ganesh dude," said Nathan, "not that I'm NOSY or anything, but you're traveling with that weird guy-"
"Hey!" said Charles through a mouthful of jerky.
"...and a chick?"
"Wait, after all of that you can tell she is a girl?" Ganesh huffed.
"Dude," Nathan confided, "boys USUALLY don't wear that much makeup."
"Raziel!" scolded Ganesh.
"I had to look cute," Raziel protested, feeding some toasted marshmallow to her raven friend.
"You two know this fellow back in your world?" Ganesh asked, offering the smoke to Raziel.
"It will just make me giggle," she said, waving it away.
"Yeah, he's in my band," said Charles.
"What other world?" asked Nathan.
"Where you come from," Charles told him, "you lead a metal band."
"A metal...? Dude, if we're the one's smoking, why is he HIGH?"
"I could cure him, you know," Ganesh told Charles.
"What?" said Charles, actually looking up from his sack of gorp.
"If that's what you thought best."
"How?" asked Charles.
Ganesh leaned over to Nathan. He suddenly slapped him on the forehead with the palm of one hand while making a cork popping sound with his finger in a cheek.
Nathan fell back, but then immediately scrambled to his feet. "Whoa! What happened? Where is this place? Where are my supermodels? Are we FISHING? Because, fishing is cool."
"Wait, he's cured?" asked Charles.
"I released the spell," said Ganesh.
"You didn't release the spell! You just made a popping sound with your cheek!" Charles protested.
"Whatever works," Ganesh told him.
"Why don't you release me like that?"
"Nathan was easy. You're complicated," Ganesh explained, taking a long puff.
"I AM NOT COMPLICATED!"
"Don't worry," Raziel whispered, wrapping an arm around him as Charles cringed. "We'll get your wings back. And we'll get Ganesh back."
"Are we CAMPING?" asked Nathan. "Could we make S'MORES, Ganesh Dude? 'Cause, s'mores are awesome."
"Whatever is a s'more?" asked Ganesh.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Angelic powers and hunger pangs.
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, s'mores.
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal,
tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.Last time: Ganesh sort of lost his temper with members of the press, and ended up giving them a lovely view of a toxic waste dump. So Charles waved his magical wings on the Nick Ibsen show to make things all better. However, Skwisgaar and Pickles have been consulting some discount witches. This may or may not be connected to Charles nipping out to the kitchen for a snack and ending up being chased by torch and pitchfork-wielding villagers.
Charles awoke from a fitful sleep at first light, stiff with cold, his stomach protesting mightily. He was intensely hungry: not as if he had simply skipped breakfast, but as it he hadn't eaten in a week. He wondered if he had been somewhere else in the time between when he entered Ganesh's kitchen and when he appeared in this place. Somewhere they apparently hadn't fed him well.
Not having any other ideas, he decided to follow the nearby stream for a while, walking in the opposite direction from the town he had appeared in (and been chased from) the previous night. As he walked, to keep his mind occupied away from his rumbling stomach and aching feet more than anything, he carefully considered who may have done this to him, and, better yet, various things he would do to them when at last he had his hands around their fucking necks.
It was around the middle of the day when the riders found him. He had left his eyeglasses shattered on the floor of the barn last night, so they were nearly upon him before he spotted them. As he was unfortunately in an area with little ground cover, and feeling unnaturally hungry and fatigued, he decided not to run, but to see if he could reason with them.
As it turned out, they reasoned with a lance.
"Poacher?" the one demanded.
"No, I am not a poacher," Charles told them, trying to hold the pointy bit of the weapon away from his neck. He wondered if these people had firearms. And if so, where to obtain one.
"You realize you are trespassing on His Lordship's grounds?" asked one of them, Frick or Frack.
"I apologize to His Lordship for the oversight. I was just following the stream."
"Out for a day's walk in your skivvies?"
"This isn't what I usually wear. I pack light to avoid checked luggage fees."
"What?" asked Frick.
"Maybe he's a simpleton?" commented Frack.
"Or an escaped prisoner?" ventured Frick.
"I am neither! I was just walking! AND I wanna point out, if I'm trespassing, the grounds aren't posted."
Both of the riders laughed.
"You don't know Lord Ganesh's estate? You are simple,” said Frick.
"Wait! Did you say Ganesh?" asked Charles, hoping his reduced state had not interfered with his hearing.
"Aye!"
"Look! Great! Just bring me to him! We can get all this cleared up."
"Crazy bare assed poacher, and you wish to be brought before Lord Ganesh?"
"Yes, that is exactly what I want! And I wanna point out for the record I’m wearing fucking pants!”
There was more laughter.
“Let’s stick him to the ground and leave him,” laughed Frack. He was the guy with the lance. He was too busy chuckling heartily to pay too much attention to his balance, so Charles managed to not only relieve him of the weapon but actually send him sprawling from his saddle when he wrested the lance away. He then used the butt end of the weapon to clobber the second guy as well.
He didn’t wait to see if the second guy fell or not, he was already off running. Again.
“Fucking fucking up universe,” he muttered. His feet were beyond pain.
It came out of nowhere, the pure black horse. He stopped short, nearly trampled, and then reversed course, diving into a patch of bushes and uneven ground where you would have had to be a crazy ass motherfucker to try to follow along on a horse.
Unfortunately, the horseman happened to be one crazy ass motherfucker, easily cantering around briars and brambles that ended up snagging either Charles’ already ragged pants or his increasingly ragged skin. And then, inevitably, he stumbled, and the horse’s forelegs were hovering over him. He threw up an arm. But the hooves came down just narrowly missing him, and he was wedged between some scrub and a rather large horse.
"And. What exactly are you supposed to be?" said the rider, leaning over to make an assessment. Hair hung down in his face, halfway hiding the grin.
A grin that seemed too big for his handsome face.
"Ganesh!” Charles exclaimed.
The rider regarded him for a long moment. “Lord Ganesh to you, I’d say.”
“You don't know me?" Charles said, excitedly scrambling to his aching feet.
"I think I might have remembered a little silver man running around my estate.” He smiled, miming running with two fingers
"Crap. OK. OK.” Charles pulled up his pajama pants, which, now torn to shreds, stubbornly fell down again. “This is probably an alternate universe again. That’s OK.” It wasn’t OK. He was tired and utterly famished and probably babbling. "Look. You may not know me, but I know you. And, I sort of need help right now."
"Let me guess: new wardrobe choices?"
"OK, cut the dry wit crap. You're a fucking softie. I know that. And you need to help me."
Ganesh appeared to be thinking.
“Maybe not today,” Ganesh said. “You’ve given me a bit of amusement though. Why don’t you get on your way, and we’ll call this even?” He spurred his horse.
“No! WAIT!”
Ganesh backed the horse.
“You have a birthmark! Your lower back," Charles shouted after him.
The horse stopped. Ganesh turned his mount. “Which side?” he asked.
“Left. Your family are musicians, but you don’t really like the sound of your singing voice.”
The lovely eyes narrowed.
"Uh. Your uncle taught you to ride like that. That's probably one of his you're riding right now. Uh, you don’t really get along with your dad. Who’s probably your late dad, if the universe is following the rules. And. You’re bored and don’t really know why.”
Ganesh glared at him for a moment. Fuck, now I’m really babbling, Charles thought. Maybe shouldn't have mentioned Shiva?
Ganesh seemed to recover himself. "You know, you just did in two of my lackeys. And decent lackeys are difficult to find in these parts."
"The second guy too? Ha. I wouldn't call ‘em decent."
Ganesh heaved a sigh. “All right. We shall ride back and hear you out. And then when I have decided beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are full of shit, you will leave. And not return. Agreed?”
Charles nodded. He didn't really have much choice.
Ganesh leaned over and stuck out his hand. Charles gripped it, and was tugged up in back of Ganesh on the horse. Ganesh immediately spurred the horse, leading Charles to grab him around the waist for support.
He smelled of fine spices, and Indian cigarettes.
Charles jerked back, but not from the motion of the horse.
This was his Ganesh. Not an alternate universe version, this one was his. He wasn’t exactly sure how he knew – the smell, the touch – but he knew.
What the hell could have happened, he wondered.
The ride back was not unlike driving in a late model sports car when Raziel was behind the wheel. Instead of avoiding hazards like ditches and hedges, Ganesh (and his mount) seemed to regard them as mildly entertaining features, and they were airborne nearly as often as if they were riding some damned kind of winged horse. Ganesh is bored, so he goes out riding like this, Charles thought. Well, at least he’s not been spending his time gnawing on Vogue Hommes models. Was there Vogue in this universe?
Ganesh swiftly dismounted outside the stables, tossing the reigns to a servant before Charles could manage to slide off. He hurried after Ganesh into the main residence. Ganesh grabbed a coat from a rack by the door and tossed it to Charles, who gratefully donned it, wrapping it around himself.
“You're looking a bit starved. We’ll get some dinner and talk,” Ganesh told him.
Charles’ eyes widened.
“Exactly how long did you say it has been since you’ve eaten?” Ganesh asked.
Charles looked up from where he was piling his third or fourth helping of something onto his plate. He wasn’t entirely certain what it was, but it was utterly delicious. Definitely the best food he had ever eaten. “Uh. Dunno. Since last night?” he munched.
“You are certain it has not been since last month?” said Ganesh, regarding the empty tureen. “Or perhaps last year? It’s a wonder you weren’t sent by my enemies to eat me out of house and home.
They hadn’t been dining and talking so much as Charles cramming food into his mouth and Ganesh watching with growing fascination. The coat was at least two sizes two big, so Charles had rolled up the sleeves, and sat unapologetically up on his knees in the chair, looking more than a bit like a silvery haired street urchin.
“I suppose I should ring for more,” Ganesh said, tapping a cigarette on the side of his empty plate.
“That’s a' ri’.”
“I might quite like to eat something myself,” Ganesh told him, ringing a bell.
A dark-haired servant entered.
Charles’ fork was thrown down, and he was off the chair.
“RAZIEL!”
She blinked dully at him.
"OK, I know, you have no idea who the fuck I am,” he told her. “But that’s OK, I know you.”
She remained silent.
“Uh. Are you OK?” he asked.
“She is new. She doesn’t speak much,” Ganesh told him.
“WHA’?” said Charles, picking something out of his teeth.
“We’ve been using her for housekeeping. I imagine she was formerly involved in prostitution, or something of the sort.”
Charles frowned. He looked at her. He felt a chill for some reason. “Raziel?” he said softly.
She quietly put down the tray she was holding. She looked at him sadly and began to unbutton her blouse.
“Uh. No! That’s not what I want.”
She lowered her blouse. She turned around, her back to him.
Charles froze. “Oh! Gods! Raziel! No!”
Ganesh had stood up. He approached her, cautiously. Charles was standing just back from her, hand over his mouth.
Ganesh sent a practiced hand down her bare back, tracing the two large, angry red scars that extended, side by side, nearly from shoulder to waist. He carefully pulled her blouse back up, and then leaned over to whisper something to her. She nodded and left.
He grabbed Charles by the elbow and marched him to a small private study, slamming the door closed.
“All right. All right. From the top please? No more food until I have some kind of an explanation. How is it you claim you know me?”
“We’re friends. Back… Well, back where we come from.”
“I am from here. At least that is what my family has led me to believe.”
“You’re not what you think you are.”
“Oh, and what am I?”
Charles was thoroughly glad he’d been given a chance to eat something first. He took a breath. “You’re a god.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And, uh, I’m an angel. Actually.”
Ganesh's expression darkened. "I'm not seeing any wings."
"I don't know what happened with that."
"You lost your wings? And Raziel? May I assume she is an angel as well?"
“She was,” Charles said sadly.
Ganesh simply frowned. “Raziel is another friend?”
“She’s sort of a relative.”
"Sort of a relative. How is that possible?"
"It's complicated."
“I would appreciate the entire story, Silver Man, without the constant verbal backspacing!”
Charles tried to control his breathing. He had seen Ganesh moody before, but not this moody. “Raziel’s dad and my mom were brother and sister. Or as close as they come with us. We’re angels. The neat little human rules don’t apply. But I think something’s gone wrong. I thought I had gotten sent to a different universe, but now I think someone has been fucking with our universe.”
“The entire universe? Not possible.”
“Yeah, well, you piss off a god, anything’s possible. And we’ve pissed off a lot of them.”
“The gods have all abandoned this place. Long ago. We are on our own here, Silver Man.”
“OK. Quit. Fucking. Calling me that.”
“What do you wish me to fucking call you?”
“I don’t know. Sariel is the name I used the longest.”
“You don’t even know your own name?”
Charles reddened. “I have lived two thousand years. You kinda tend to pick up a name or two.”
“You would have me believe that you are two thousand years old?”
“Well, give or take.”
“And you hadn’t eaten since the tenth century?” said Ganesh wryly.
“You wanted the whole story. I was an angel. And so was Raziel. I fucked up, and they tossed me out.”
“So, you’re both angels. But neither of you is really an angel? And why have you both descended from the heavens upon me?”
“You have to help us make this right.”
Ganesh sighed and looked away. “I don’t do that any more. I am quite finished with helping people.”
“Ganesh. Fuck! We have a kid.”
“WHAT? You and I?"
Charles nodded.
"How the hell is that possible?”
“You don’t want him back?”
“That’s not…. And. Are you saying you and I…?
“Yes, you and I.”
“No. None of this is possible.”
“I knew about the birthmark.”
“You probably paid off one of my ex-girlfriends.”
“GIRLFRIENDS? You. Don’t. Like. Women.”
“They seem to approve of me.” He frowned at Charles. "I wouldn't. Not with an angel...." He trailed off.
"No! It's you and fucking me! And what the hell? Why are you being so fucking pissy?"
"A weird thing I pull out of my garden now claims it is a long lost love? You are ridiculous! You are-“ But the rest of the sentence was silenced as Charles' mouth was suddenly covering his, and he was being pulled slowly downward, as Ganesh's resistance, which was rather of a token sort at first, disappeared completely within a few moments. The kiss continued, on the floor, for actually a rather long, quite nice time, until Charles suddenly felt himself being pushed back by the shoulders.
He grinned at Ganesh, who merely scowled.
And then Ganesh was on his feet.
“Go…. Go clean yourself up. I need to sleep on this. ALONE!”
Charles popped his head up in the bathtub. Warm. And clean. And safe, at least for the moment.
He propped a foot up on the edge of the tub. Charging around in the fucking underbrush had chewed the hell out of his poor feet. He decided he should probably quit teasing Ganesh for running around the house without his shoes all the time. His head still hurt where he'd been thumped, but he thought, feeling the bump, that maybe he had escaped the worst of it.
He frowned. He needed to think things through now. Thinking in a warm bathtub was quite nice, actually. Although thinking in the shower, with Ganesh, would have been nicer. Not that he would have gotten much thinking done. Which brought up another thought, what the fuck was wrong with Ganesh? Charles knew the guy could get moody, but this seemed out of character.
“Raziel!”
He had barely heard her enter the room. It was weird to see her quiet like this. She had an armload of what looked like clothes and a towel.
“Ganesh…. He could give you something for that…” she ventured, pointing to his battered foot.
“Gimme the towel,” he ordered, gesturing. She handed it over and he was out of the tub. “Look, I know you’ve been through some shit,” he told her, wrapping it around his waist, “but the quicker we figure this out, the quicker we can get out of this. All right? Can you talk now?"
Raziel slumped down on the edge of the bed. He sat down next to her. They were silent for a time. He felt a chill go through him, though not from being dripping wet. Ganesh seemed off, but Raziel seemed…. She seemed gutted.
“Raziel. What the fuck?" he finally asked.
"I'm not ... I’m not totally sure."
“What do you remember?”
“Everything,” she whispered.
“Everything?”
“From when they tore my wings off. By the sockets. Everything.”
He let it sink in. "Seraphim? Was it angels?" he urged. The sooner he knew, the better, he told himself.
"Angels. Yeah."
He was silent for a moment.
"I had a weird feeling,” Raziel said at last. “I went to the room, you know, where we keep ... the box? You know which one I'm talking about?"
Charles started. He felt something worse than hunger. "Our old friend?"
"Yeah. And, they were there. I don't know how they got past everything. All the protections we put on that room. But, it wasn’t really the room any more, you know? I went through the door….”
“And ended up someplace else?”
“Yeah. And, they … hurt me. And dumped me here. Gabriel. I think he was one of them."
“Fuck! Raziel! Why didn’t you fucking kill them?”
“I let them.”
“What?”
“She’s after my kids, Sariel. They won’t be safe until I track Her down.”
“But, Raziel, this… Your wings!”
“You’re not an angel any more. Why should I be?”
“I’m an idiot, Raziel.”
She was quiet for a time, hugging herself. "I miss them. The wings, I mean." She looked at him.
"Yeah, me too. I hate being a fucking angel. But I feel like something's missing."
“Did they get you too? You don’t have scars?”
“I just ended up here. I don’t remember anything in between. But I was hungry as hell.”
“You’re always hungry.”
He smiled faintly. He looked at Raziel. "How did you end up here? I mean at Ganesh’s place?”
"I knew you would find him. I knew you would find Ganesh. So I came here too."
“You knew I would be here?”
Raziel nodded. “It’s the kids, Sariel. It’s my kids, and Boon. Wotan suspected. But I just didn’t see this coming. And, I don’t know where we are. And," she said. She paused. "I want my kids so bad."
He recognized it. Later he thought it came from being around his own kid so much. He heard her breathing catch, and knew what was going to happen if he didn't stop it. No wings to pull out, so he gritted his teeth, and put an arm around her.
There were waterworks, but they were mercifully quiet. He pulled her up on the bed and lay beside her for a while, occasionally muttering, "It's OK. It's all right." It wasn't. But that was what you said.
And then the fatigue caught up with him.
She was gone when Charles awoke the next morning, though he noticed someone had spread a comforter out over him. He rose and picked through the pile of clothing Raziel had left for him. The sleep had been marvelous, but he noticed a million little aches and pains from the day before. And he was hungry as hell again. He found clothes that fit, more or less. The biggest problem was getting his swollen, sore feet into a pair of boots. At last he decided to just forget it and carry the shoes with him. Knowing Ganesh he probably had some kind of salve that, hopefully, wouldn't cause him to sprout any extra toes.
He noticed a note had been pushed under the door of his room. It said to meet in the laboratory. He (and his stomach) had been hoping that breakfast would be the first item on the agenda, but he thought perhaps the lab would have coffee and donuts. That's what labs were for, wasn't it?
It wasn’t difficult finding it. The space was magnificent. The vaulted ceiling was several stories high, and topped with an intricate stained glass window. It cast a weird light down on the entire room. There were shelves going practically all the way up, with a couple of rickety ladders pushed here and there. The shelves were laden with books, but also specimen jars and telescopes and flasks full of potions and jars full of colored powders and test tubes full of god knows what and animal skeletons. He thought he saw aquariums full of starfish and jellyfish and octopuses, and there were cages with birds and small animals.
The floor was striking as well. It had been marked up with arcane symbols in many different colors of chalk and in an amazingly intricate pattern, which nonetheless boiled down to a pentagram within a circle.
And kneeling in the center of the circle was Raziel.
“Raziel! What-?” He hurried towards her, but felt himself caught under the arms, picked up and jerked back.
“Kindly stay out of my pentagram! I was all the morning drawing that!” Ganesh stated, placing him down just outside the circle.
“Ganesh, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“You claim she is an angel? Then we are simply going to restore her wings!”
“Oh no you’re not!” said Charles, once more lunging towards Raziel.
“And why not?" asked Ganesh, once wrestling him up. "Last night you were on about my helping people!” he scolded.
“Ganesh! This isn’t helping! I know about your spells! They usually end in BOOM!”
“They barely ever end in boom! That is pure exaggeration!”
"I won't let you do this to her."
"I am the finest caster of spells in this territory!"
Charles raised an eyebrow, staring into Ganesh’s eyes. "Are you high?"
"What? Why? No! Well, only a bit. I only had a little smoke."
"Boom!" said Charles. Ganesh glowered.
"Are you guys gonna flirt, or are we gonna do this?" asked Raziel irritably from within the circle.
"Raziel!" said Charles.
"Sariel,” she said. “He claims he can do this. Let him try. Please?"
"You've seen his spells!"
"We need our powers back. Both of us,” she told him stubbornly.
"And she will be the easier if the two, if you are what you claim,” Ganesh explained as he picked up a cage. “A simple healing spell. You don't appear to be similarly affected, and I was given a rather good view yesterday." Ganesh opened the cage and took out a rooster. He held it near the circle, and flashed a knife blade.
"Aren't you a vegetarian?" asked Charles.
"No. But he is!" Ganesh grinned, indicating the rooster. “Or, was.” He deftly slit the throat of the bird, and blood dripped onto a sigil at the edge of the circle.
There wasn’t a boom, but a crackle. There was an arc, like electricity, that radiated from the sigil to Raziel.
And then there was a boom. A very big boom. A concussion that radiated from the center of the room.
Charles dove for cover against the wall. He cautiously peered between his fingers. Raziel was no longer visible in the middle of the circle. It was aflame.
"Shit! No! Raziel!" he cried. He leapt up, thinking to rush to the center, but the heat was beyond belief, like a wall of fire. “Raziel!” he called again. There was no answer.
And then with a loud hiss, the flames suddenly converged.
It looked like a giant winged thing. A phoenix? Made of pure orange flame.
And then, with a whoosh, the flame was not there, and Raziel stood in the middle of the circle, dark wings unfurled, holding a silver sword.
Ignoring the chalk marks, which had mostly been burnt away, Charles leapt to the center of the circle, where he held a very surprised looking Raziel by her shoulders.
"Wow!" she said. "Look!" She wagged her wings.
"Wow," Charles agreed. They looked perfect. But the greatest change was not her wings. Her eyes were no longer dull and glassy, and even her unearthly pale skin looked healthier.
"He could do you next!" Raziel told him.
It was then that they both looked over to where Ganesh had been standing. "Oh, shit!" said Charles.
Where Ganesh had been a few moments ago, there was instead a giant pile of charred books, jars, powders and potions. It appeared that he had been slammed into the wall of the laboratory during the commotion, and brought down all the shelving on top of him.
Raziel and Charles rushed over and started to dig through the debris. There were a variety of small animals, evidently loosed from cages, now crawling or flapping around.
"Wait, is that a foot?" asked Raziel, easily tossing away something that looked like a safe.
"Ganesh?" said Charles, frantically pulling away a terrarium and a badly smashed telescope.
The ends of his hair were smoking. His eyes were closed.
"Is he alive?" Raziel asked.
But then Ganesh reached out. With two pairs of arms. He grabbed Charles.
"Our son! Where is our son?" he demanded.
"I don't know. I don't know,” Charles told him, similing in relief. “But we'll get him back. OK?"
Ganesh's eyes slid over to Raziel. "Holy fuck! You're an angel!"
Raziel and Charles exchanged a confused glance. "Wait. You don't remember?" Raziel asked as Charles helped the shaky god to his feet.
"Boomerang," Ganesh said, shaking off the dust. "Sometimes a spell will backfire on you. I guess I needed to be healed as well. It's all murky. But now I've gone and destroyed my laboratory!" He cast a miserable glance around. It was true: what hadn't been brought down when he had crashed against the wall had been terribly scorched. “I am not certain what to do now. This is a sorry state of things."
"Breakfast?" asked Charles hopefully.
"You are hungry again?" Ganesh said in wonder.
"Huh. I guess he really doesn't remember," laughed Raziel.
Lord Ganesh sat irritably tamping his cigarette on his plate, watching the angels. The girl was now somehow returned to looking like a girl. But she looked different too. He wasn't certain how. The vulnerability was gone, or at least better hidden. She positively radiated magic now.
He could see magic. This was another wonder. She had a kind of power that radiated off her. Ganesh did as well, he now saw, gazing at his own hand.
She sat at the breakfast table breaking off crumbs from a muffin and feeding it to a raven that was now hanging around. It must have gotten loose from the laboratory. Did angels have familiars? Some of his servants gave her a second glance: a servant eating at the breakfast table. But they were well trained, and probably accustomed to their master's eccentricities.
And silver Sariel was feeding his face once again. Evidently, angels either ate absolutely nothing, or everything that wasn't actually nailed down. Here was another puzzle: he didn’t evince any magic at all. Quite the opposite: he seemed to be some kind of magical black hole.
"There is one thing to do," Ganesh told them. The girl looked up, but the other wouldn't quit feeding, though it did grunt, "Uh-huh?"
"I seem to have recovered at least some of my powers, but my memories are faulty," Ganesh said, looking at his second set of arms. How did you even dress yourself like this? "And Sariel has his memories, but evidently cannot summon his powers. We are in need of more magical intervention, but my laboratory will take months to rebuild, and we may be at earnest."
"Earnest?" asked Raziel. "Does that mean really sincere?"
"I think he means we gotta hurry," Charles munched.
"Ah. Gotcha."
Ganesh frowned. "I think we ought seek out my mother. She is a magic user of some repute, and her estate possesses the necessary facilities."
"Uh, how far away?" Charles smacked.
"It's only a few days ride."
"We're going on horseback?"
"Unless your friend is capable of flying us? Can you not ride?"
"Thing is, the idiots that first night broke my fucking glasses. I can't see my hand in front of my face."
"You need spectacles?"
The silver man frowned.
"Eyeglasses?" Ganesh sighed.
"If I wanna see? Yeah." He shrugged and continued eating, but looked a bit downcast. Ganesh frowned as well. Really, there was no need to be so harsh to the odd man. He wasn't responsible for everything that had befallen Ganesh of late.
"I might have something," Ganesh told them. He rose, and set off down the hall. You're helping again, he reminded himself. His mind shunted aside the regret. He had set off on this path when he put the girl in the middle of the circle he told himself.
He returned soon to the dining room with a large wooden box box. "It is perhaps a good thing I did not store these in the laboratory!" he commented as he lifted the lid.
Sariel actually stopped eating. "You make glasses?" he said in wonder. There must have been a hundred pairs.
"A hobby," scoffed Ganesh.
Charles was already sifting through them, looking for the correct strength. Raziel's raven was inspecting them as well.
"Wait, those were pretty good!" Charles protested as Raziel pulled off a pair and fished through the box.
"They make your face look too long," she said.
"You might try one of these if your eyes have troubles in bright light," Ganesh told them. "I have incorporated a tint into the lens."
"Oh! These are cool!" Raziel approved.
"Raziel! I don't need to be cool! I just.... Hey, these are OK."
"So. You were expecting to be visited by a nearsighted angel?" Raziel asked.
"No! Of course not! That's absurd!" Ganesh scoffed. "But there is one other thing. I think it would be wise for the lady to travel incognito."
"Do I get dark glasses too?" Raziel squealed, upsetting the raven. “Are there paparazzi here?’
"Papa…? Er, no, I was thinking of something a bit more, er, dramatic. It might not be safe, traveling with an, er, attractive young lady...."
Raziel grinned from ear to ear. Charles scowled at her.
"So I thought you might accompany us in the guise of a young boy?"
Raziel stared at him for a moment. "You want me to do drag? That is excellent!"
Sariel rolled his eyes, but Ganesh frowned. Angels were … weird.
"Foot," ordered Ganesh.
"You don't have to do this," Charles told him. "I could slap it on myself."
"Slap it? Are you...? And have you having all my healing salve for an angel snack? Certainly not. Foot!"
Charles obediently put a foot in his lap and Ganesh began to rub on the sticky goo. "It does smell pretty good," Charles allowed. "Onions?"
"Those are among the ingredients."
"Like the stuff you used to use on me?"
"I did?"
"I was scarred up? Well, more scarred up. And you used to put junk on to take away the scars."
"Sounds like something I'd do," Ganesh muttered. "I assume Raziel would have picked out a suitable outfit by now?"
"You are optimistic. You shouldn't have given her a choice."
“It’s just a traveling outfit!”
To Ganesh’s supreme annoyance, Sariel laughed.
“Other foot!” ordered Ganesh. "I would like to get going before nightfall. There is an inn not too far from here where I believe we may procure some suitable bodyguards for the journey."
"Just how dangerous is this area?" Sariel asked.
“Let us say it is not terribly hospitable. May I see your head now?”
“It’s just a bump. Hey, do you have any of those muffins left from breakfast?”
Ganesh sighed. “We might need to take along an extra horse with sufficient food for you.”
“That’s a great idea!” said Charles, standing up to try his feet.
“What might be best,” Ganesh advised, “If you can bear it, it you can ride in your stocking feet? The swelling should go down shortly.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ve ridden barefoot before.”
"Really?"
“Yeah, long story. Now, about those muffins?”
Ganesh had finally had to physically pick up a protesting Raziel and drag her out to the horses, as she had not yet selected among six alternate riding outfits. “But I wanna look cute!” she wailed. Charles had actually smiled. It was at least comforting to have annoying Raziel back.
Charles had been easier: Ganesh had just given him a sack lunch. He didn’t stop eating even when he mounted.
They took along only two horses, the fine black one that Ganesh had been riding when he’d come upon Charles, and Charles rode, in stocking feet, on a somewhat skittish mare. Charles wondered that Ganesh had selected faster mounts for the journey. Was he expecting to be pursued?
But nothing untoward happened for the first few miles, and, just as it was going dark, they came upon the Inn Ganesh had mentioned. “I’d like to hire a fellow or two here,” he explained to them as they dismounted. Charles had pleasant visions of a cozy fireplace, cold beer, and barmaids in low cut dresses.
The visions vanished swiftly as they barely missed being bowled over by a rather large fellow being tossed out the front door.
“FUCKING DOUCHE BAG!” came a cry from the inside.
Charles and Raziel looked at each other excitedly. They both pointed inside.
“That guy!” said Raziel.
“Ganesh, you gotta hire that guy!” Charles told him.
“But, you haven’t even seen him yet!” Ganesh told them. He shook his head, and then proceeded into the maelstrom. Glasses, bottles and chairs were flying everywhere. And sitting regally in the eye of the storm, Nathan Explosion, casually knocking back a beer as if the riot happening all around him was being broadcast instead on television. Which, by the way, didn’t seem to exist in this universe.
“That guy is good,” Charles assured Ganesh, who shrugged and, ducking a plate of nachos (which oddly, did seem to exist in this universe) strode over to the singer.
"Don't you have any FUCKING CHIPS in this place? A man needs his FUCKING CHIPS!" Nathan was patiently explaining by tossing the bartender across the room
“Greetings, my friend. I am looking to hire a man of your qualifications for some work, said Ganesh, sitting down next to Nathan at his table.
“What do you wanna hire me for?” Nathan asked suspiciously.
"Well," said Ganesh, "I am a rich person, with more money than sense. And, my friends and I are embarking on a journey through this territory. It would help us to have some assistance along the way." A man had come up behind Ganesh, holding a knife. Without looking behind him, Ganesh grabbed the man by the collar and brought his face down hard on the table. The man collapsed.
"What kinda assistance, EXACTLY?" Nathan growled. Another man rushed him from behind, and got Nathan's fist in his face for his trouble.
"Oh. A bit of this. A bit of that," Ganesh told him, tossing yet another man over the table. “Should be pretty routine."
"Is there PAY?" Nathan asked, smashing someone’s head with his beer stein. "Hey!" he yelled at the barmaid. "More beer over here!"
"Enough to keep you in beer and barmaids and, er, chips for a very long time, I promise," Ganesh assured him. Both men stood and overturned the table onto a knot of men who were rushing them.
“Sounds OK. I’m kind of BORED here. I’m Nathan by the way."
“It is very good to meet you, Nathan. I am Ganesh," said the god, shaking his hand.
“You stayin’ here?”
"I thought to camp by the riverside a few miles up. I like the fresh air. And the rooms here are, er, nonsmoking, if you know what I mean."
"Awesome," said Nathan, clobbering a man with a chip bag. He opened the bag and began to eat the smashed chips.
True to Ganesh's word, they made camp a few miles up the road. Once the tent was set up, Ganesh lit up something that was neither a campfire nor an Indian cigarette and passed it on to Nathan.
"So, Ganesh dude," said Nathan, "not that I'm NOSY or anything, but you're traveling with that weird guy-"
"Hey!" said Charles through a mouthful of jerky.
"...and a chick?"
"Wait, after all of that you can tell she is a girl?" Ganesh huffed.
"Dude," Nathan confided, "boys USUALLY don't wear that much makeup."
"Raziel!" scolded Ganesh.
"I had to look cute," Raziel protested, feeding some toasted marshmallow to her raven friend.
"You two know this fellow back in your world?" Ganesh asked, offering the smoke to Raziel.
"It will just make me giggle," she said, waving it away.
"Yeah, he's in my band," said Charles.
"What other world?" asked Nathan.
"Where you come from," Charles told him, "you lead a metal band."
"A metal...? Dude, if we're the one's smoking, why is he HIGH?"
"I could cure him, you know," Ganesh told Charles.
"What?" said Charles, actually looking up from his sack of gorp.
"If that's what you thought best."
"How?" asked Charles.
Ganesh leaned over to Nathan. He suddenly slapped him on the forehead with the palm of one hand while making a cork popping sound with his finger in a cheek.
Nathan fell back, but then immediately scrambled to his feet. "Whoa! What happened? Where is this place? Where are my supermodels? Are we FISHING? Because, fishing is cool."
"Wait, he's cured?" asked Charles.
"I released the spell," said Ganesh.
"You didn't release the spell! You just made a popping sound with your cheek!" Charles protested.
"Whatever works," Ganesh told him.
"Why don't you release me like that?"
"Nathan was easy. You're complicated," Ganesh explained, taking a long puff.
"I AM NOT COMPLICATED!"
"Don't worry," Raziel whispered, wrapping an arm around him as Charles cringed. "We'll get your wings back. And we'll get Ganesh back."
"Are we CAMPING?" asked Nathan. "Could we make S'MORES, Ganesh Dude? 'Cause, s'mores are awesome."
"Whatever is a s'more?" asked Ganesh.
