Production Number (Mythklok Interstitial)
Jan. 30th, 2012 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Production Number (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Singing and dancing and acting like a fool
Warnings: More Bollywood
Notes: This was partly inspired by the batshit crazy Bollywood movie, Krrish. In one of the big production numbers, the leading lady has to dance alongside Hrithik Roshan, who’s currently India’s Fred Astaire. Anyway, the actress (I forget her name) is pretty obviously faking it trying desperately to keep up, which sorta reminds me of some of those old Fred Astaire movies where they’d give his partner a long, flowy dress so you couldn’t see she wasn’t as good. I love Bollywood.
If you read my other eleventy-jillion blogs, you've already seen this, but I thought it would be fun to include it. I'm actually having Raziel sing a number called Deva Shree Ganesha.
Charles heard them long before he saw them.
He had felt a bit put off when Raziel told him to meet in the dining hall instead of one of the cozy sitting rooms (where there would be cigars and aged Scotch), or the kitchen (where he might hope to scrounge a delicious steak sandwich or possibly a sadly neglected scrap of pie).
He heard the music, loud and clear, but he was still not quite prepared for what he beheld when finally he reached the doorway. The carpet had been rolled up and there were Wotan and Raziel, dancing along to a lively Bollywood production number. As Raziel was quite a bit shorter than Wotan, she was dancing along barefoot up on one of the tables. The Norse god, though not a small man by any means, was surprisingly fleet of foot, and was keeping up with the complicated dance number.
“Ah, Sariel!” he boomed, upon seeing Charles standing there staring, a bit rudely it must be admitted. “Good, maybe my task master will give me a bit of rest.”
There was an old-fashioned record player in the corner, and Raziel had leapt off the table to raise the needle up off the LP. “Aw, we were just getting to the good part!” she whined.
“Now, I’ll go fetch Ganesh, I believe he was wrangling brats and wolves and cats and demons whatever else might be hanging around up here.”
“That bearcat demon was back last night,” laughed Raziel.
“Yeah, I espied the drool,” laughed Wotan as he grabbed his coat and strode off.
“How the hell did you get him to do that horrid crap, Raziel?” asked Charles.
“Wotan promised to dance with me at the next festival. So I’m showing him the steps!” she bragged.
“You’re showing him the steps?” asked Charles.
“Yeah. Why?” she sassed, hands on hips.
“You’re doing it wrong!” sniffed Charles.
“Was not,” averred Raziel.
“Yeah you were! That last part. You weren’t doing the arms,” said Charles, knowledgeably waving his own. He leaned over. “You were faking it.”
“WHAT!”
“You weren’t in position.”
“Wait, show me,” said Raziel, putting the needle back on the record.
Jwala si chalti hai
Aankhon mein jiske bhi
Dil mein tera naam hai
Parwah hi kya uska
Aarambh kaisa hai
Aur kaisa parinam hai.. ye..
“Raziel,” said Charles, who had ceased attempting to dance.
“Yeah?”
“Don't fucking sing along.”
“Awwww!” she said, holding up the needle again.
“Anyway, you're just showing off that you know the lyrics in Hindi,” he told her.
“And you don't know the lyrics in Hindi?” she asked slyly.
“Some of us have better things to do!” Charles huffed.
“After all this time with Ganesh, don't you know ANY Hindi?”
Charles frowned, and then repeated a phrase.
Raziel began to giggle. “Suck my gay elephant dick? Is that from Ganesh?”
“Uh. Yeah.”
“It's pretty good, actually.”
“That it is. Could we get back to dancing?”
Raziel put the needle back on the black vinyl album.
Dharti ambar sitar
Uski nazare utaare
Dar bhi usse dara re
Jiski rakhwaliya re…
Karta saya tera
“RAZIEL!”
“All right, all right!”
“This part!” said Charles as Raziel began to dance. “No, not like that, like this!”
“Show me!” demanded Raziel.
Charles executed a complicated series of arm gestures, which a scowling Raziel repeated.
“That’s better,” he encouraged.
“Wait, show me with the foot work,” she told him.
“Oh all right, put it back to the other part,” said Charles, peeling off his jacket and tossing it over a chair back. “Now watch! This is really precise.”
“Whatever you say,” grinned Raziel, who was quite swiftly following Charles in an incredibly intricate set of moves.
Hooo… teri bhakti ka vardaan hai
Jo kamaye vo dhanvaan hai
Bin kinare ki kashti hai vo..
Deva tujhse jo anjaan hai…
Yun toh mushak savari teri
Sab pe hai pheredari teri
Paap ki aandhiyan na kaha
Kabhi jyoti na haari teri…
Apni takdeer ka wo
Khud sikander hua re
Bhul ke ye jahaan re
Kiski silien ya haare
Saath paya tera he
“There,” said Charles at last, wiping his forehead with a sleeve. He abruptly turned at the sound of clapping.
“Excellent!” boomed Wotan.
“Well, you have made a fool of me again,” added Ganesh, who was standing in the doorway along with the Norse god. He pulled his wallet from his coat pocket, and extracted from it a 100 rupee note, which he presented with a flourish to Raziel.
“Wait, what did you guys bet on?” demanded Charles.
“I said I could get you to dance with me,” Raziel gloated.
“I wouldn't have believed it!” attested Wotan.
“You just gotta know how to goad him,” grinned Raziel, starting the record once again. She began the dance moves, but suddenly in a much more precise style.
“You knew how to do that dance all along!” said Charles.
“Well of course I do. I'm a way better dancer than you are!”
Charles glowered. “You. Are. Not!”
“I've always been!” grinned Raziel.
“Not any more! I've been practicing! I’m practicing with Lord of the Dance,” he emphasized, waving an arm at Ganesh.
Raziel begged to differ.
Which set of more bickering.
“Er, Uncle,” Ganesh whispered to Wotan over the sound of the squabble. “Do you think we are about to witness an angelic dance off?”
“Looks like it, son. Sariel has been served! It's the only way out of this honorably.”
“What shall we do?”
“You take care of the popcorn, I’ll break out the good Scotch.”
Two gods grinned.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Singing and dancing and acting like a fool
Warnings: More Bollywood
Notes: This was partly inspired by the batshit crazy Bollywood movie, Krrish. In one of the big production numbers, the leading lady has to dance alongside Hrithik Roshan, who’s currently India’s Fred Astaire. Anyway, the actress (I forget her name) is pretty obviously faking it trying desperately to keep up, which sorta reminds me of some of those old Fred Astaire movies where they’d give his partner a long, flowy dress so you couldn’t see she wasn’t as good. I love Bollywood.
If you read my other eleventy-jillion blogs, you've already seen this, but I thought it would be fun to include it. I'm actually having Raziel sing a number called Deva Shree Ganesha.
Charles heard them long before he saw them.
He had felt a bit put off when Raziel told him to meet in the dining hall instead of one of the cozy sitting rooms (where there would be cigars and aged Scotch), or the kitchen (where he might hope to scrounge a delicious steak sandwich or possibly a sadly neglected scrap of pie).
He heard the music, loud and clear, but he was still not quite prepared for what he beheld when finally he reached the doorway. The carpet had been rolled up and there were Wotan and Raziel, dancing along to a lively Bollywood production number. As Raziel was quite a bit shorter than Wotan, she was dancing along barefoot up on one of the tables. The Norse god, though not a small man by any means, was surprisingly fleet of foot, and was keeping up with the complicated dance number.
“Ah, Sariel!” he boomed, upon seeing Charles standing there staring, a bit rudely it must be admitted. “Good, maybe my task master will give me a bit of rest.”
There was an old-fashioned record player in the corner, and Raziel had leapt off the table to raise the needle up off the LP. “Aw, we were just getting to the good part!” she whined.
“Now, I’ll go fetch Ganesh, I believe he was wrangling brats and wolves and cats and demons whatever else might be hanging around up here.”
“That bearcat demon was back last night,” laughed Raziel.
“Yeah, I espied the drool,” laughed Wotan as he grabbed his coat and strode off.
“How the hell did you get him to do that horrid crap, Raziel?” asked Charles.
“Wotan promised to dance with me at the next festival. So I’m showing him the steps!” she bragged.
“You’re showing him the steps?” asked Charles.
“Yeah. Why?” she sassed, hands on hips.
“You’re doing it wrong!” sniffed Charles.
“Was not,” averred Raziel.
“Yeah you were! That last part. You weren’t doing the arms,” said Charles, knowledgeably waving his own. He leaned over. “You were faking it.”
“WHAT!”
“You weren’t in position.”
“Wait, show me,” said Raziel, putting the needle back on the record.
Jwala si chalti hai
Aankhon mein jiske bhi
Dil mein tera naam hai
Parwah hi kya uska
Aarambh kaisa hai
Aur kaisa parinam hai.. ye..
“Raziel,” said Charles, who had ceased attempting to dance.
“Yeah?”
“Don't fucking sing along.”
“Awwww!” she said, holding up the needle again.
“Anyway, you're just showing off that you know the lyrics in Hindi,” he told her.
“And you don't know the lyrics in Hindi?” she asked slyly.
“Some of us have better things to do!” Charles huffed.
“After all this time with Ganesh, don't you know ANY Hindi?”
Charles frowned, and then repeated a phrase.
Raziel began to giggle. “Suck my gay elephant dick? Is that from Ganesh?”
“Uh. Yeah.”
“It's pretty good, actually.”
“That it is. Could we get back to dancing?”
Raziel put the needle back on the black vinyl album.
Dharti ambar sitar
Uski nazare utaare
Dar bhi usse dara re
Jiski rakhwaliya re…
Karta saya tera
“RAZIEL!”
“All right, all right!”
“This part!” said Charles as Raziel began to dance. “No, not like that, like this!”
“Show me!” demanded Raziel.
Charles executed a complicated series of arm gestures, which a scowling Raziel repeated.
“That’s better,” he encouraged.
“Wait, show me with the foot work,” she told him.
“Oh all right, put it back to the other part,” said Charles, peeling off his jacket and tossing it over a chair back. “Now watch! This is really precise.”
“Whatever you say,” grinned Raziel, who was quite swiftly following Charles in an incredibly intricate set of moves.
Hooo… teri bhakti ka vardaan hai
Jo kamaye vo dhanvaan hai
Bin kinare ki kashti hai vo..
Deva tujhse jo anjaan hai…
Yun toh mushak savari teri
Sab pe hai pheredari teri
Paap ki aandhiyan na kaha
Kabhi jyoti na haari teri…
Apni takdeer ka wo
Khud sikander hua re
Bhul ke ye jahaan re
Kiski silien ya haare
Saath paya tera he
“There,” said Charles at last, wiping his forehead with a sleeve. He abruptly turned at the sound of clapping.
“Excellent!” boomed Wotan.
“Well, you have made a fool of me again,” added Ganesh, who was standing in the doorway along with the Norse god. He pulled his wallet from his coat pocket, and extracted from it a 100 rupee note, which he presented with a flourish to Raziel.
“Wait, what did you guys bet on?” demanded Charles.
“I said I could get you to dance with me,” Raziel gloated.
“I wouldn't have believed it!” attested Wotan.
“You just gotta know how to goad him,” grinned Raziel, starting the record once again. She began the dance moves, but suddenly in a much more precise style.
“You knew how to do that dance all along!” said Charles.
“Well of course I do. I'm a way better dancer than you are!”
Charles glowered. “You. Are. Not!”
“I've always been!” grinned Raziel.
“Not any more! I've been practicing! I’m practicing with Lord of the Dance,” he emphasized, waving an arm at Ganesh.
Raziel begged to differ.
Which set of more bickering.
“Er, Uncle,” Ganesh whispered to Wotan over the sound of the squabble. “Do you think we are about to witness an angelic dance off?”
“Looks like it, son. Sariel has been served! It's the only way out of this honorably.”
“What shall we do?”
“You take care of the popcorn, I’ll break out the good Scotch.”
Two gods grinned.
