Silence (Mythklok Interstitial)
Nov. 12th, 2011 11:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Silence (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Choirs of angels
Warnings: Cursing, angel gossip
Notes: This is a follow up to a very early Mythklok story, Quiet.
Lord Ganesh listened intently. As a being blessed with godlike senses, his hearing was very keen indeed. But alas, try as he might, he heard nothing at all, except perhaps a very faint hum.
He dropped Sariel's hands and, after looking thoughtful for a moment, then gently took Sariel's head in his hands and traced a line across his forehead.
“Could you hear anything?” Sariel asked him. “Anything at all?” He looked deeply sad.
Ganesh shook his head. “Have the headaches returned?”
“No. Not at all. Well, not unless I'm talking with Toki.”
Ganesh once again dropped his hands. “The blockage in your sinuses is still open – it has not healed over. There is nothing wrong with you. Physically.”
“Gods damn it!” huffed Sariel, abruptly standing up. “The one thing we bastards do that doesn't absolutely fucking suck, and I can't even enjoy it. I fucking hate being a fucking angel. Fucking waste of time,” he concluded, emphasizing the point with a well-aimed kick to a pile of spreadsheets that had been stacked on the floor.
“Had you thought to ask Lady Raziel?” asked Ganesh.
“What the fuck would I ask Raziel about? I don't wanna fucking know about next year's hemlines!”
Ganesh smiled and took out his cell phone while Sariel continued to flap his arm and rave about the room.
“Oh my gods I was just having the BEST conversation with Anna Wintour!” gushed Raziel, who had suddenly appeared. “You wouldn't BELIEVE where hemlines are going this season!”
“I TOLD YOU!” said Sariel, whose mood was not improved by the appearance of Lady Raziel in his suite.
“Raziel,” said Ganesh. “We were just attempting to listen to the heavenly choirs....”
“And no luck?” she asked.
Sariel had suddenly quieted. Ganesh nodded.
Raziel herself quieted, closed her eyes, and appeared to be concentrating for a moment. “Yup. Nothing there. I haven't been able to get anything for weeks.”
“Wait!” said Sariel. “Are you telling me the entire fucking Host stopped singing?”
“Wellllll,” said Raziel, darting her eyes around. “You didn't hear this from me! But, I heard from a guy who heard from a guy. You know with the wars, how Headquarters has thinned out?” The men nodded. “Well, I guess the choir also lost their longtime director. No one's quite sure where he ended up. And then the guy who replaced him? Asshole!”
“Well, he's an angel. Whaddya expect?” snorted Sariel.
“No, I mean, real asshole. Charoum.”
“Oh, Charoum? What an asshole!” agreed Sariel.
You know Micah, the soloist?” asked Raziel. Sariel nodded. “Charoum told him he sounded like a goat horking up a tractor.”
Sariel snorted. “Well, it's kinda funny.”
“And Micah said, 'Good day to you,' And that was the last anyone ever saw him.”
“Oh. Crap. Sensitive bastard.”
“Well, a lot of sensitive bastards, because eventually there weren't enough people showing up at practice for a choir.”
“So they disbanded?” asked Ganesh.
“NO! So, they decided to split into TWO choirs.”
“Er. Sorry? There weren't sufficient angels for one choir, so they decided to make two?” asked Ganesh.
“They're ANGELS Ganesh,” said Sariel.
“So,” continued Raziel, “they decided to make the first choir better, so they made it competitive to get in! And then nobody showed up for auditions.”
Ganesh sighed.
“And then the second choir, they decided to go on tour!” said Raziel
“WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANGELS GO ON TOUR!” raved Sariel.
“Er. Because they're angels?” ventured Ganesh, who was beginning to get the picture.
“And, of course, they couldn't decide where to go, or what to sing....”
“This is....” said Sariel, who had started to wander away. He walked to the great glass door that adjoined the balcony, and stared out for a time. “There is one thing we do, that makes it worthwhile being a fucking angel, and we can't do it?”
“THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED!” said Nathan Explosion, who had just wandered in, along with William Murderface.
“No it wasn't,” grumbled Sariel.
“Acschtually, conschidering pascht eventsch, I might have buschted the lock,” admitted Murderface.
“It is all right, gentlemen,” said Ganesh. “Sariel is morose.”
“Aw, you're much smarter than that!” Nathan assured him. “You're almost as smart as Ganesh, and that's pretty smart.”
“What?” sputtered Sariel. “He said morose, not moron! And... And whaddya mean I'm not as smart as Ganesh?”
“Well, I am terribly smart!” said Ganesh.
“As well as good looking,” added Raziel.
“Yes, that is true,” added the elephant god modestly.
“Sariel's pouting because the angels have quit singing. Remember the angelic chorus, Nathan?” asked Raziel.
“Oh, yeah, that creepy singing angel shit?” said Nathan. “That was creepy. Why did they quit doing it again?”
Raziel took in breath to continue with her story, but instead Sariel interjected, “Because they're assholes!”
“Oh, yeah, that makles sense,” said Nathan.
“So many angels have left, there aren't enough to maintain the choir,” explained Ganesh.
“Uh-huh. Yeah, those dudes are all down here, working in the kitchen,” grinned Nathan, his mind dwelling on thoughts of delicious chips.
“How is Samael?” Raziel asked Murderface.
“Oh, Dick isch doing much better,” Murderface smiled. “I think he isch a little bored now though.”
“Oh, we should all go visit him and cheer him up,” said Raziel.
“Dick Knubbler,” said Sariel. “Yes. Dick Knubber. We gotta go see him. We gotta go now.”
“Right now, Sariel?” asked Ganesh.
“Yeah. Right now. C'mon!” said Sariel, suddenly grabbing Murderface by the arm.
And so the party found themselves at the gates of Carpathians Castle. But before they could even ring the bell, the electronic gate began to swing open, and they saw a single slim figure walking down the drive, moving slowly with the aid of a cane.
“DICK!” shouted Murderface, who hurried ahead. “I brought friendsch.”
“BABIES!” hollered Dick Knubbler, stopping and waving his fancy silver-tipped cane. “It's so great to see you at my humble abode, babies, yeah!”
“I got something important to discuss with you, Dick,” said Sariel, hurrying up the the producer. “I need you for some work.”
“I don't move too quick, Sarry baby, no. But Dick Knubbler is up for a job. Yeah! You boys got some new songs already?”
“This isn't Dethklok, Dick. This is something very different.”
“Lay it on me baby, yeah!” sang Dick.
Dick was once again in the recording studio in Mordhaus. His silver-tipped cane was propped against the mixing board. Murderface was sitting behind the mixing board, as was Pickles. The rest of Dethklok had found an excuse to linger there, as had Raziel and Ganesh.
And Sariel, who didn't often visit the recording studio, was there as well, pacing impatiently.
Dick Knubbler himself was inside the booth, leaning heavily on a makeshift podium. The booth was very crowded. It was completely filled with angels. There were Klokateers from Mordhaus's kitchen staff, some servants from Valhalla, and a few engineers who had come down from the Imperial City.
Dick raised a baton. “Are we ready, Pickles baby?” he asked.
“Yeh, Dick dood, go ahead.”
“All right, angel babies!” Knubbler told his motley choir. “We'll do a quick run through. Just to check the levels. Keep it loose, babies!”
He raised the baton.
Everyone quieted.
He waved the baton.
Voices.
Heavenly voices.
Surging. In perfect harmony.
And then, a silence.
A perfect stillness.
Sariel, who had stopped pacing, now charged towards the booth, throwing open the door and marching inside.
He stooped, and picked up the baton, which Dick Knubber had dropped. He placed it back in Knubbler's hand, closing the producer's shaking fingers around it.
Dick was gripping the podium, knuckles white.
“Go on Dick,” Sariel urged. “Go on.”
“Who's gonna hear this, Sarry baby?” whispered Knubbler. “There's no one left out there, you know. No one left, baby.”
“We'll hear it,” said Sariel, gesturing around the recording studio. “We'll hear it. That's all that matters. We're all that matters now.”
Knubbler painfully turned his body to see, robot eyes scanning the stunned faces arrayed around the studio. He nodded, and straightened up.
Sariel left the booth, and Knubbler once again raised the baton.
“All right babies,” said Knubbler, though he sounded like he was almost talking to himself. “Let's take it from the top. Let's raise our voices. BABY YEAH!”
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Choirs of angels
Warnings: Cursing, angel gossip
Notes: This is a follow up to a very early Mythklok story, Quiet.
Lord Ganesh listened intently. As a being blessed with godlike senses, his hearing was very keen indeed. But alas, try as he might, he heard nothing at all, except perhaps a very faint hum.
He dropped Sariel's hands and, after looking thoughtful for a moment, then gently took Sariel's head in his hands and traced a line across his forehead.
“Could you hear anything?” Sariel asked him. “Anything at all?” He looked deeply sad.
Ganesh shook his head. “Have the headaches returned?”
“No. Not at all. Well, not unless I'm talking with Toki.”
Ganesh once again dropped his hands. “The blockage in your sinuses is still open – it has not healed over. There is nothing wrong with you. Physically.”
“Gods damn it!” huffed Sariel, abruptly standing up. “The one thing we bastards do that doesn't absolutely fucking suck, and I can't even enjoy it. I fucking hate being a fucking angel. Fucking waste of time,” he concluded, emphasizing the point with a well-aimed kick to a pile of spreadsheets that had been stacked on the floor.
“Had you thought to ask Lady Raziel?” asked Ganesh.
“What the fuck would I ask Raziel about? I don't wanna fucking know about next year's hemlines!”
Ganesh smiled and took out his cell phone while Sariel continued to flap his arm and rave about the room.
“Oh my gods I was just having the BEST conversation with Anna Wintour!” gushed Raziel, who had suddenly appeared. “You wouldn't BELIEVE where hemlines are going this season!”
“I TOLD YOU!” said Sariel, whose mood was not improved by the appearance of Lady Raziel in his suite.
“Raziel,” said Ganesh. “We were just attempting to listen to the heavenly choirs....”
“And no luck?” she asked.
Sariel had suddenly quieted. Ganesh nodded.
Raziel herself quieted, closed her eyes, and appeared to be concentrating for a moment. “Yup. Nothing there. I haven't been able to get anything for weeks.”
“Wait!” said Sariel. “Are you telling me the entire fucking Host stopped singing?”
“Wellllll,” said Raziel, darting her eyes around. “You didn't hear this from me! But, I heard from a guy who heard from a guy. You know with the wars, how Headquarters has thinned out?” The men nodded. “Well, I guess the choir also lost their longtime director. No one's quite sure where he ended up. And then the guy who replaced him? Asshole!”
“Well, he's an angel. Whaddya expect?” snorted Sariel.
“No, I mean, real asshole. Charoum.”
“Oh, Charoum? What an asshole!” agreed Sariel.
You know Micah, the soloist?” asked Raziel. Sariel nodded. “Charoum told him he sounded like a goat horking up a tractor.”
Sariel snorted. “Well, it's kinda funny.”
“And Micah said, 'Good day to you,' And that was the last anyone ever saw him.”
“Oh. Crap. Sensitive bastard.”
“Well, a lot of sensitive bastards, because eventually there weren't enough people showing up at practice for a choir.”
“So they disbanded?” asked Ganesh.
“NO! So, they decided to split into TWO choirs.”
“Er. Sorry? There weren't sufficient angels for one choir, so they decided to make two?” asked Ganesh.
“They're ANGELS Ganesh,” said Sariel.
“So,” continued Raziel, “they decided to make the first choir better, so they made it competitive to get in! And then nobody showed up for auditions.”
Ganesh sighed.
“And then the second choir, they decided to go on tour!” said Raziel
“WHY THE FUCK WOULD ANGELS GO ON TOUR!” raved Sariel.
“Er. Because they're angels?” ventured Ganesh, who was beginning to get the picture.
“And, of course, they couldn't decide where to go, or what to sing....”
“This is....” said Sariel, who had started to wander away. He walked to the great glass door that adjoined the balcony, and stared out for a time. “There is one thing we do, that makes it worthwhile being a fucking angel, and we can't do it?”
“THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED!” said Nathan Explosion, who had just wandered in, along with William Murderface.
“No it wasn't,” grumbled Sariel.
“Acschtually, conschidering pascht eventsch, I might have buschted the lock,” admitted Murderface.
“It is all right, gentlemen,” said Ganesh. “Sariel is morose.”
“Aw, you're much smarter than that!” Nathan assured him. “You're almost as smart as Ganesh, and that's pretty smart.”
“What?” sputtered Sariel. “He said morose, not moron! And... And whaddya mean I'm not as smart as Ganesh?”
“Well, I am terribly smart!” said Ganesh.
“As well as good looking,” added Raziel.
“Yes, that is true,” added the elephant god modestly.
“Sariel's pouting because the angels have quit singing. Remember the angelic chorus, Nathan?” asked Raziel.
“Oh, yeah, that creepy singing angel shit?” said Nathan. “That was creepy. Why did they quit doing it again?”
Raziel took in breath to continue with her story, but instead Sariel interjected, “Because they're assholes!”
“Oh, yeah, that makles sense,” said Nathan.
“So many angels have left, there aren't enough to maintain the choir,” explained Ganesh.
“Uh-huh. Yeah, those dudes are all down here, working in the kitchen,” grinned Nathan, his mind dwelling on thoughts of delicious chips.
“How is Samael?” Raziel asked Murderface.
“Oh, Dick isch doing much better,” Murderface smiled. “I think he isch a little bored now though.”
“Oh, we should all go visit him and cheer him up,” said Raziel.
“Dick Knubbler,” said Sariel. “Yes. Dick Knubber. We gotta go see him. We gotta go now.”
“Right now, Sariel?” asked Ganesh.
“Yeah. Right now. C'mon!” said Sariel, suddenly grabbing Murderface by the arm.
And so the party found themselves at the gates of Carpathians Castle. But before they could even ring the bell, the electronic gate began to swing open, and they saw a single slim figure walking down the drive, moving slowly with the aid of a cane.
“DICK!” shouted Murderface, who hurried ahead. “I brought friendsch.”
“BABIES!” hollered Dick Knubbler, stopping and waving his fancy silver-tipped cane. “It's so great to see you at my humble abode, babies, yeah!”
“I got something important to discuss with you, Dick,” said Sariel, hurrying up the the producer. “I need you for some work.”
“I don't move too quick, Sarry baby, no. But Dick Knubbler is up for a job. Yeah! You boys got some new songs already?”
“This isn't Dethklok, Dick. This is something very different.”
“Lay it on me baby, yeah!” sang Dick.
Dick was once again in the recording studio in Mordhaus. His silver-tipped cane was propped against the mixing board. Murderface was sitting behind the mixing board, as was Pickles. The rest of Dethklok had found an excuse to linger there, as had Raziel and Ganesh.
And Sariel, who didn't often visit the recording studio, was there as well, pacing impatiently.
Dick Knubbler himself was inside the booth, leaning heavily on a makeshift podium. The booth was very crowded. It was completely filled with angels. There were Klokateers from Mordhaus's kitchen staff, some servants from Valhalla, and a few engineers who had come down from the Imperial City.
Dick raised a baton. “Are we ready, Pickles baby?” he asked.
“Yeh, Dick dood, go ahead.”
“All right, angel babies!” Knubbler told his motley choir. “We'll do a quick run through. Just to check the levels. Keep it loose, babies!”
He raised the baton.
Everyone quieted.
He waved the baton.
Voices.
Heavenly voices.
Surging. In perfect harmony.
And then, a silence.
A perfect stillness.
Sariel, who had stopped pacing, now charged towards the booth, throwing open the door and marching inside.
He stooped, and picked up the baton, which Dick Knubber had dropped. He placed it back in Knubbler's hand, closing the producer's shaking fingers around it.
Dick was gripping the podium, knuckles white.
“Go on Dick,” Sariel urged. “Go on.”
“Who's gonna hear this, Sarry baby?” whispered Knubbler. “There's no one left out there, you know. No one left, baby.”
“We'll hear it,” said Sariel, gesturing around the recording studio. “We'll hear it. That's all that matters. We're all that matters now.”
Knubbler painfully turned his body to see, robot eyes scanning the stunned faces arrayed around the studio. He nodded, and straightened up.
Sariel left the booth, and Knubbler once again raised the baton.
“All right babies,” said Knubbler, though he sounded like he was almost talking to himself. “Let's take it from the top. Let's raise our voices. BABY YEAH!”
