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Truth (Mythklok, Chapter 16)
Title: Truth (Mythklok, Chapter 16)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kidnapping, smoking and Monty Python
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing, smoking.
Notes: Notes after the jump
Cross-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
capslokdethklok.
This is a Metalocalypse AU which![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tiktaalikroseae has dubbed “Mythklok.” Here are the other bits, about an angelic visit (Chapter 1), a hunt (Chapter 2), a barbecue (Chapter 3), a ski trip (Chapter 4), a sword fight (Chapter 5), Bette Davis Movies (Chapter 6), a concert (Chapter 7), tall tales (Chapter WTF), a trial (Chapter8), an argument (Chapter 9), a stray cat (Chapter 10), Satan’s shinkansen system (Chapter 11), the highway to Hell (Chapter 12), a meeting with Satan (Chapter 13), a tiger hunt (Chapter 14) and Hamms beer signs (Chapter 15).
And it all everything eventually ends up rolling to my fic journal,tikific, where you are welcome to come poke it with a stick.
THE STORY SO FAR: This is thing has now slithered completely out of canon and into the realm of barking madcap weirdness. Charles is a Fallen angel who used to go by the name of Sariel. For many centuries he tried to leave memories of this existence behind him (as Heaven is full of douche bags) but now several weird immortal beings have started showing up at Mordhaus and making his existence even more complicated. Raziel is a ditzy Seraph who used to be his partner in crime. She is now King Wotan’s fiancée. Wotan, as we all know, is head of the Norse pantheon, and, as we all suspect, Skwisgaar’s birth father. One of Wotan’s hunting buddies is Shiva, lord of destruction and Dethklok super fan. Charles is currently involved with Shiva’s son, Ganesh, a well-tailored elephant god with a rather sexy British accent.
In the last few chapters, Charles dragged Raziel – currently in full metal bridezilla mode – off to the Southwest to seek out the legendary monsters that seem to be of interest to the Legion, the angel army. They met Spider Grandma, a Kachina; Aaron, the tribe’s disabled young human shaman; and Eototo, one of Charles’ old flames who evidently yearned to renew a bit of that old spark. Charles left Lord Ganesh in charge of Dethklok for the weekend. Some bonding occurred, as well as ingestion of controlled substances and a certain amount of frolicking with strippers. Lord Ganesh was however not pleased to learn that Charles had spent some of his time in the Southwest starting thunderstorm with an old boyfriend who happens to be a god.
A number of years ago….
“The Depression is soooo depressing!”
“I am sorry you have been inconvenienced by a global economic catastrophe, Raziel. By the way,” Sariel – who hadn’t gone by the name Sariel for some centuries – wiped his hands on a rag. “If you find this place annoying, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“What, the New World?”
“No one calls it the New World anymore.”
“I was in the neighborhood, and saw a light in your window.”
“I meant, what were you doing in my universe?”
“Just wanted to visit my Little Brother.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So what are you doing back here? Did you get dumped again?”
“I did not….”
“You got dumped again didn’t you?”
“He didn’t dump me!” Sariel took a violin down from the music shop shelves and began to thumb a string. “He…. He was just about to dump me.”
“The same guy? The Chief?”
Sariel sighed, and picked up a bow. “Yeah, same guy.”
“Look, why don’t you introduce us, I’ll have a little talk with him.”
“Raziel! I like him as he is, with all his limbs intact.”
“Aw! What fun is being your Honored Sister if I can’t mutilate your exes?”
“I don’t know. If you’re bored, you might consider leaving.”
“Will you come with me?”
“Come with you where?” He had tucked the violin under his chin, but hesitated with the bow in his hand.
“North Africa!”
“Why the FUCK would you wanna go to North Africa?”
“Can’t go to Italy. They made it icky.”
“Well, I’m sorry you find Fascism icky.”
“So you’ll come?”
“Why would I wanna abandon all this?” Sariel drew the bow across the strings.
“Do people even come to a music shop during a Depression?”
“Sure. They just don’t spend any money.” He stopped and turned one of the pegs slightly. “So, what’s in North Africa?”
“Adventure! Excitement! Romance!”
“What’s gonna happen is, you’re gonna drag me there, and then run off with some pretty man, and leave me all alone in the middle of fucking Morocco with no money and no job.”
“You’ve got no money now,” Raziel chirped. “And you’re soon to be all alone.”
He placed the violin down and regarded the angel girl, who was sitting on the counter, kicking her legs, and grinning at him.
“I’m gonna regret this.”
Raziel’s grin widened as she grabbed him by the collar. And then neither of them was standing in the shop any longer.
“Doesn’t look like there’s anyone here,” the big man said. He was leaning on the music shop’s plate glass window, shielding his eyes with his two big hands. “Looks like there’s a layer of dust over everything.”
The big, bear-like man turned back to regard his companion, who was standing by the car. The big man looked Native American, although that term would not come into common use for many decades.
His companion was equally tall, but lanky. He had long, jet black hair, and arresting pale blue eyes. The eyes looked worried.
"Who is this guy, anyway? You wanna buy a violin or some shit?" the bear-like man asked.
"No one," the lanky man answered. “He's no one all."
The blue-eyed man was alone now. Alone in the middle of the desert.
But then, quite suddenly, he was not alone.
There were four of them. They were big - even bigger than his bear-like friend. They surrounded him now, like four points of the compass.
“We asked you for one thing, one very simple thing,” said one of them, red-faced. “And you find you cannot achieve this very simple thing for us?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. It’s like he just vanished off the face of the earth.”
“He is an angel. He is likely to do that.”
“As you well know, my power is rooted in the land. I can’t go around the world, chasing after him.”
“This is why you were supposed to keep him nearby. It was one simple thing. Evidently too much for a little earth god."
"What happens now?" asked the blue-eyed man.
“I am an angel of vengeance. I am not usually a forgiving man. But perhaps, in this case, we can make some sort of arrangement.”
“We are looking for something,” smiled another of the large beings. “Such a little thing. Such a very small task.
The present day….
Ofdensen found himself half hoping Ganesh would make good on the threat to chain him down to the Hindu god’s bed, so he would have an excuse never to leave it again.
He was smoking. So in order to technically comply with Ganesh’s rule about no smoking on the bed, he was lying hanging halfway off the end of the bed so he could occasionally reach up over his head to the ashtray on the floor.
Ganesh suddenly came out of the bathroom. “What exactly is it you’re doing there?” he asked, more puzzled than angry.
“I’m not smoking on the bed!” Ofdensen said, ditching the cigarette in the ashtray over his head and abruptly snapping up to a sitting position.
Ganesh stood, hands on hips, more hands scratching his head. “How do you even do that without breaking yourself in two?”
“I thought you liked the fact that I’m flexible?” Ofdensen laughed, rolling onto his stomach. Ganesh sat down next to him. He still had an extra set of arms out. He had one hand on Ofdensen’s back. The angel soon realized he was tracing the scars back there.
‘You wanna know about all the fucked up shit in my past?” Ofdensen asked him.
“Yes?”
“A lot of those are from Uriah. He was an early mistake. A bad mistake.”
“Some look … new.”
“Yes.”
“You know, I have some medicine that could-“
“No.”
“All right.”
“I have issues…. I mean, with control. I thought that was the way. Anyway, I was wrong.”
“What happened?”
Ofdensen put his head down on his arms, wishing for his cigarette back. “I punched him one day. And, then I shot my mouth off at the worst possible time. And ended up exiled here.”
Ganesh was silent for a while. Finally he said, “You are Fallen because you struck an abusive man?”
He shrugged into the bed. The sheets were soft. “Well, it was more complicated than that. But, essentially, yeah.”
“There is much I fail to comprehend regarding the ways of angels.”
“Well, me too, I guess.”
Ganesh hugged one leg to his chin, as he tended to do when he was considering something. “And, you were sent here with nothing?”
“Naked. I had a pack of smokes.” He gazed fondly at the abandoned cigarette, going to ash in the ashtray. “They throw you to the ground. Literally.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“It’s supposed to be humiliating.”
“And you are now confined to this reality?”
‘Yeah.”
“It has always been that way for me, as it is for our kind. So, I know of nothing else. If I were to choose to live in a universe, however, it would be this one. Here, we have our freedom. And that is important.”
Sariel regarded him. “Here you have death. And that’s important too.”
There was a knocking at the bedroom door. Ganesh looked up, curious. He pulled on a robe and went to open it. “Lady Raziel?” he said, suddenly opening the door wide.
“Sariel,” she said. Ofdensen was pulling on a pair of pants.
“Raziel? What the fuck? Is Wotan OK?”
She had obviously been crying, and had not bothered to fix her makeup. “You guys weren’t answering phones. Grandma…. Grandma called. There were angels…”
Ofdensen had her by the shoulders. “Grandma? Spider Grandma? Called you?”
She nodded.
“Angels what?”
“They came and took Aaron.”
“He’s a human! Why would they…?”
“Who is Aaron?” Ganesh asked.
“The Kachinas. He’s their shaman,” Ofdensen told him. He walked Raziel over to the end of Ganesh’s bed and sat her down. “But he’s just a kid. A human kid. And he’s disabled. Really disabled. His mom was doing magic.”
Ganesh nodded. “I have seen some of those children.”
“We’ll get him, all right?” Ofdensen told Raziel.
“Sariel,” she said, softly. She took his hands in her small ones. “Eototo is missing.”
“Did they…. Did they kidnap him too?” His voice was almost hopeful.
“It looks like he went willingly.” She gripped his hands more tightly. “It looks like he was with them.”
He was suddenly standing, trying to control his breathing.
“Perhaps you should have taken that umbrella and crammed it up his ass,” Ganesh offered dryly.
His eyes had gone pure silver. “I’m gonna do worse,” he said. “Much, much worse.”
Raziel was the first to appear, so she sat herself down in Sariel’s chair in his office. It was really the nicest chair, and it made you feel serious and important just sitting in it. Though, it was a little too low for her. As was really just about everything in the human world. So she sat up on her knees in the chair. She noticed the box of cigars immediately, and reached over to it.
Ganesha had entered. He entered the boring way, through the office door. Because although Ganesha was one of her favorite people in the world, really, he was a bit formal sometimes.
“Do you smoke cigars, Ganesh?” she asked.
“What?”
“Do you smoke cigars?” she asked, opening the cigar box.
“I usually just stick to my Indian cigarettes.”
“Sariel taught me to smoke cigars when we went to America. I think we should smoke cigars. Wotan says it helps him think, and also it makes him look important and jaunty!”
Ganesha smiled just a bit, and took a cigar as well.
Soon the office was filled with various beings, whom Raziel was certain to supply with Sariel’s cigars and, as an additional aid to strategic planning, Sariel’s single malt Scotch.
“I think we should utilize a two-pronged strategy,” Raziel opined. She congratulated herself. “Two-pronged” sounded very strategic. “My Lord Wotan will lead the hunt for the perpetrators in the physical realm, and meanwhile, we will go with the original plan of having Pickles use his spirit animal to contact Aaron in the Dreamtime.” Yes, perpetrators. She had heard someone use that word on a human television program featuring very good-looking human detectives. She wondered if it was a requirement for human police personnel to be terribly good looking.
Sariel had finally reached his office. He looked around. “Uh, are those my good cigars?”
“I’m planning our mission!” Raziel told him.
“Actually,” said Wotan, “She is. And, it’s a pretty good plan.”
“I taught her to smoke,” Sariel sniffed.
“Pickles,” Raziel asked, “I don’t have a good grasp of your methods. Would you be able to located Aaron from here in Mordhaus.”
“I don’t have a grasp of ‘em either, Lady Raz. I t’ink we should go to da Indian village. I just t’ink it would be easier starting from dere, from where he lived.”
“My hunting party will best start out at the facility where he was living,” Wotan said.
“Wotan,” Ofdensen pointed out. “Eototo is a hunter too. He’ll know how to cover his tracks.”
“No one – man nor god – can cover their tracks well enough to hide ‘em from me,” the god growled. “I fucking invented hunting.”
“Shall I accompany Lady Raziel, or go with you and Lord Wotan?” Ganesh asked.
“Uh, neither,” Sariel told him.
“Sorry?”
“You can…. You can watch over Mordhaus again.”
“No.”
“Uh, yes. Ganesh, last time you went along, you didn’t nearly die, you DIED.…”
“Are we expecting to meet more of your Kachina ex-flames over there?” Ganesh purred.
“Can we…. Can we talk about this outside?” Ganesh glared as Sariel marched him out of the office and into the hallway, where voices were raised.
“Uh-oh,” laughed Pickles.
“Sariel is a lot of fun to argue with!” Raziel stated.
“Can you go with Pickles on the spirit walk?” Wotan asked Raziel.
“But, honey, you know drugs make me all giggly!”
“I think it would be best were one of us along to protect him. And you have met Aaron.”
“Well, that’s true. I’m sure we can get the Kachinas to help too.”
“Nat’an says he always meets da Kachina doods an’ Spider Grandma, right Nat’an?”
Nathan didn’t reply. There was a small smash as his whiskey glass dropped to the floor. He was staring out into the hallway, where the argument had stopped. Ganesh was embracing Sariel in a very, very deep kiss. Sariel reached up and grabbed the Hindu god’s collar, and they disappeared.
“Whoa,” said Pickles.
“Hee, our arguments never ended that way,” grinned Raziel.
“Well, I should hope not!” sniffed Wotan.
“Oh, hi, Toki! Did you want a cigar?” Raziel called.
“No, Raziel,” said the Norwegian, who had just entered the office. “You ams plannings da missions?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re doing! That’s why we’re smoking cigars and looking jaunty!”
“I ams talks to my friends da goddesses, and dey ams wants to helps!”
“Oh, that’s splendid news Toki!”
Ofdensen was sitting naked on the floor next to his ridiculous new bed. He had intentionally taken himself and Ganesh to his own room so he could smoke in bed. But then it didn’t seem right to smoke on a brand new bed, so he ended up sitting on the damn floor anyway. He was going through his jacket, trying to remember which pocket had the cigarettes.
“If you want to come along, you should come along. I just wish you wouldn’t,” he told Ganesh, finally locating his pack of Marlboros. “I’d just…. I’d rather you didn’t die, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I am not intending on dying. Not in the near future anyway.” Ganesh crawled over to the coast of the bed nearest to Ofdensen, and propped himself up on two of his elbows. “You forget, I’ve had rather a lot of experience with this kind of thing. And I’ve managed to keep alive quite well thank you. I am not one of your humans.”
“Well, obviously not. ‘My’ humans tend to have no more than two or three arms at most.” Cigarette in mouth, he was now rooting through his clothing for a book of matches. He had so far located a guitar pick and several of Toki’s candy wrappers.
Ganesh regarded the fingernails on his third hand. “Do you find this Form … upsetting?” he asked. “I could … restrain myself, it if makes you more comfortable.”
“No, no!” He stopped his match hunt for a moment and propped an arm on the bed. “Angels…. We’re sort of weird about our Forms. You don’t show anybody your True Form. Unless you’re about to kill them.”
“A most grave misuse of that Form, if you’d care for my opinion,” Ganesh mused. “Anyway, shall we get back to the meeting?”
Sariel had located a match and struck it greedily. “Yeah, uh, just lemme have a cigarette and a couple more minutes of peace….”
“Um, Sariel, do you think if you are going to smoke a cigarette, you might want to first put on a pair of-“
“Aiiiiii! GOD DAMMIT!”
It took two full sets of hands to cover Ganesh’s mouth well enough so Sariel could not hear him laughing
Lord Wotan strode through the gardens at Mordhaus. He had an arm around Toki Wartooth’s shoulders, and was holding forth animatedly about something to the young guitarist.
“My home. Is going to be guarded. By a Stitch n Bitch meeting,” Ofdensen sighed.
Standing beside him on the balcony, Raziel giggled. “The goddesses did pretty well against you during your last encounter.”
He glared at her. “What is Wotan going on about anyway?”
“Oh, he loves doing this. Probably a pep talk. Firing up the troops!”
“In war we're tough and able, quite indefatigable,” Ganesh approached behind them, singing.
“Between our quests we sequin vests and impersonate Clark Gable,” Raziel replied, and both dissolved into giggles.
“OK, what the fuck?”
“Ganesh has been teaching me about the greatest of all human comedy troupes, Monty Python!” Raziel told him.
“Monty Python? Monty Python is hardly the greatest human comedy troupe.”
“What can you mean?” Ganesh scoffed. “They are unsurpassed!”
“They aren’t funnier than the Marx Brothers!” Ofdensen snorted.
“Yes they are!”
“No they’re not.”
“An argument? You want room 12A, just down the corridor,” Ganesh laughed, to gales of laughter from Raziel. “And when we return from our quest, I shall introduce you to the classics: the Goon Show!”
“The classics?” Ofdensen sputtered. “What the fuck are you teaching her? What about Chaplin? Keaton? Laurel and Hardy?”
“Some of your American comedians did have a certain merit,” Ganesh conceded.
“A certain merit?”
“My apologies, but Lord Wotan is beckoning me. Perhaps we may continue this considered discussion at some future opportunity?” Ganesh smiled and departed.
“He has no idea. NO IDEA! And….” Ofdensen turned his attention back down to the gardens, where Lord Wotan was now holding forth about something at Skwisgaar, whose face, for once, held an expression which could not be described as disdainful. “And, why didn’t your boyfriend call me down for one of those fucking pep talks? I have to go on the goddam hunting party too! And I fucking hate hunting!”
“Maybe he thinks you need to, you know, run your empire? Or something?”
“Run my empire? What fucking empire! I don’t have time to manage Dethklok anymore! I’m always going to get lead singers out of Hell, or getting tied up by knitting goddesses, or running after Hopi kidnap victims. And, oh, fuck, Raziel, do not look at me like that.”
“Like what?” The little angel’s expression looked on the verge of either erupting in a fury or bursting into tears, both of which carried handkerchief-ruining potential.
“I’m sorry. We’ll get the boy back. OK?”
Her expression wavered into anger. “You should have let me dismember Eototo.”
“Honestly, I knew he could be a jerk, but I didn’t think he was capable of something like this. Something seems really off, and I don’t know what it is.”
“Angels are what happened. We turn everything to shit.”
“You think it was us?”
“Of course it was us. You don’t think so?”
Ofdensen shook his head. “The boy has been in that place, what? How many years? And they didn’t show any interest in him.”
“You showed an interest in him. Michael’s obsessed with you.”
“Why didn’t they just fucking kill me when they had the chance?”
“Maybe they needed you? To lead them to the monsters.”
“Oh, Christ, no.” Ofdensen put his head in his hands. He looked down to the garden again, to see Wotan talking to Skwisgaar and Ganesh.
“I don’t know,” Raziel said, following his gaze. “I’m not a strategy person.”
“Raziel, can you please quit playing dumb with me for a few minutes?” She blinked at him, surprised. “’Just tell me who to kill and when to kill them.’ No. Not anymore. You’re in this with me, this time.”
She looked down at the garden. And then looked at Sariel. “You’re no longer an angel. But I am. I am. An angel of vengeance. And I am out for some.”
“This will be like old times,” Wotan said, “Off on the hunt, with my sons.” And so saying, he put one arm around Skwisgaar’s shoulders and the other around Ganesh’s and strode down the Dethcopter’s gangplank and out into the Southwest, Geri and Freki the wolves happily padding behind them.
Ofdensen stood behind, flicking cigarette ashes. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Like old times.”
He was suddenly tackled by a whirlwind. “Aren’t ya coming?” asked Raziel, who had grabbed an elbow in her tiny, iron grip.
“Yeh, dood, are yoo jist gonna stand here and feckin’ smoke?” groused Pickles, who had the other elbow. And so he found himself frog-marched to the end of the gangplank.
Spider Grandma was already there, corncob pipe in mouth, standing alongside her ancient Chevy pickup truck with Kwahu the eagle Kachina.
“A classic vehicle!” Wotan was saying admiringly of her pickup.
“Bought it used,” Grandma said. “Ain’t had a day’s trouble with it.”
“Uh, Grandma,” Ofdensen told her, “have you met Lord Wotan?”
The Norse god bowed deeply. “I have not had the honor.”
“Well, I don’t get out as much as I done,” Grandma allowed. “So, I hear you’re marryin’ this angel girl?” she asked, as Raziel (who had been busy introducing Geri and Freki to Grandma’s coyotes) came up beside him.
Wotan grinned and seized Raziel’s small hand. “I have asked for her hand, I she accepted.” He kissed Raziel’s hand.
“Can’t imagine you’re very popular with Headquarters,”
Wotan grinned. “Begging your pardon, madam, but Headquarters can kiss my royal ass.”
Grandma howled with laughter. “Well, aren’t you are a pistol? But Grandma is what everyone calls me. Come!” She motioned for a hug, and Wotan ended up nearly enveloping her in his mighty grasp.
Wotan had Skwisgaar’s shoulder in his grip. “And may I present my son Skwisgaar?”
“Ah, a good lookin’ son of Odin! Welcome boy.” Grandma hugged Skwisgaar, who actually smiled faintly at her.
“And this is my oldest friend, Lord Shiva’s son, Lord Ganesh,” Wotan said.
“Well, look at you! And here I thought Lady Raziel was gilding the lily – you’re just as handsome as she said you were. Come give grandma a hug! And if you ever get tired of Sariel’s moods, you remember I’m not all that old!”
“We will perhaps never know, Lady, what would have befallen had I made your lovely acquaintance prior to meeting Sariel,” Ganesh grinned.
“Ah, a charmer too! You best not break up with this one, Sariel, boy, I’ll come kick your skinny ass!”
“Uh, yeah.” Ofdensen frowned irritably. “Oh, and, uh, I don’t think you’ve met Pickles yet, Grandma?”
Kwahu, who had been watching a bit distractedly, suddenly whispered something to Grandma. She bowed formally to Pickles. “Ah, your shaman. I am honored to meet ya.”
“Uh, I’m not really….” Pickles started.
“You’re the one who went and found your singer? After Hon and Kwahu stranded him in the Dreamtime?” She shot an annoyed glance at Kwahu.
“We mighta hid him in there,” Kwahu said, grinning.
Ofdensen glared at Kwahu. “Half an hour before a concert,” he grumbled.
“Yeah, I guess it was a dick move, man,” Kwahu said. “But your boy Nathan did say he wanted to talk to Grandma.”
“You got some powerful medicine, boy,” Grandma told a baffled looking Pickles, embracing him. “You folks come back to the house and we’ll get some groceries. They found Hon.”
“Wait, I didn’t know he was missing?” Ofdensen asked.
“I thought the little bastard had just run off drinking again,” Grandma huffed. “He does that.” She fixed Kwahu with a glare.
“Can I talk with him?” Ofdensen asked.
“Yeah, but we’re getting some food into you first. Does this one still treat nicotine like a vegetable?” she asked Ganesh.
“I have lectured him at length on the benefits of nutrition, but alas, to no avail!”
Hon didn’t look like he should be out of bed, but he was resting uncomfortably on Grandma’s couch. Half his head was swathed in a bandage, and one arm was in a sling.
Ofdensen cringed internally but started in, “Did the angels-“
“No, dude. The Chief fucking clocked me,” the bear Kachina grumbled.
“Oh.”
“Think the sonofabitch used magic. Anyway. I don’t know how fucking long I was in a ditch before they found me.” Hon shifted on the couch, to a position that seemed equally painful.
“Well. He could have killed you….”
“Bastard,” Hon rumbled.
“Well. You wanna tell me what happened? What you remember?”
“I was the dude’s driver. Mostly because I can keep my fucking mouth shut, you know? And I take it you know about him and the Corn Maiden? He had women all over the motherfucking place….”
“Hon! Language!” scolded Grandma.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he muttered. “Anyway, he wanted to party, you know? And the old lady frowned on that kinda thing.”
“No, I didn’t know. So, uh, what happened the day you got beat up?”
“He suddenly needed to get someplace. He was real agitated about it. But, it wasn’t a woman. At least, I don’t think he’d keep one way out there. He wanted me to take him to the middle of fucking nowhere, and then leave him. He says he’s making big medicine, needs to be alone.”
“What?” said Kwahu. “Dude….”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What?” Ofdensen asked.
“You don’t usually go for a walk alone, homeboy,” Kwahu supplied. “Bad medicine.”
“I shoulda known, dude,” Hon admitted. “But he was so righteously un-mellow, you know? I figured I’d drive him out where he wanted to go, maybe it would ameliorate the agitation.”
“So what happened then?”
“So I drive him out, and it’s the middle of fucking nowhere, and then he makes me drive back up the road a mile or two, out of the way. So I’m like, cool, maybe I’ll hang, have a smoke, you know? But then, I hadn’t even had a chance to park the truck, and there’s a lightning storm! And I’m all, dude, is he doin’ his dance?”
“That would be most strange,” Kwahu mused.
“So, you know, I been the dude’s driver for like a century.” Hon shifted uncomfortably, though it was not clear it was the pain that was causing the discomfit this time. “I ain’t never been curious before. Never shot my mouth off. And I dunno what made me do it, but before I know, I’m back in my truck, running up the road. I parked a ways off, and walked around. And, he’s out there. And I knew this immediately: they were angels.”
“How many? Can you describe them? Anything else about them?”
“They weren’t like you. I mean, OK, I couldn’t see the wings, right?”
“Court Formed?”
“Yeah, but fucking huge! I mean, they towered over him. Didn’t look like any men I’d ever fucking seen. Didn’t look like you or Lady Raz. They radiated power, man.”
Raziel arched an eyebrow.
“How many?” Ofdensen asked.
“Three. And that was the other strange fucking thing: they weren’t standing in a group talking to him – they’re on all sides of him. Or spread out on three sides anyway, like they wanna surround him, or they’re workin’ some kinda magic.”
“Were they doing magic together? Could you tell?”
“I dunno, man. I didn’t stick around. He didn’t look happy, the Chief. I got the fuck out of there, got in my truck, and took it back the fuck up the road.”
“You still waited for him?”
“Oh, yeah. I figured, like this never happened, you know? I park back in the same space, and I get a smoke. Just a cigarette.”
“Ah, man, you were fucked up, dude,” sighed Kwahu.
“Then next thing I know, there’s the Chief, standing over me! I didn’t even ever go back for him! And he goes, ‘You weren’t supposed to see that.’ And I tried to tell him I didn’t see anything, but next thing I know, they’re dragging me out of the ditch.”
“Look, Hon, I know you’re loyal to the Chief….”
“Not any fucking more! That treaty-talkin’ bastard is in with the Angels. No offense.”
“None taken. Is there anything else you can tell us that might help?”
Hon looked pained. “I sometimes, when the dude was stepping out on Corn Maiden? He was leaving. I mean, away from the Rez. I would take dude down to Flag airport, and drop him off.”
“He’s bound here though, isn’t he?”
“If he wants to use his powers, yeah. They come through the land. The people.”
“Any idea where he went?”
“No idea. Like I said, I thought he had a woman. Or, you know, somebody.”
Ofdensen had Grandma drive him and Raziel over to the hospital, perhaps partly to put some distance between himself and Hon, he admitted. Wotan and Skwisgaar were nosing around the exterior, talking quietly, and chatting about this and that. Geri and Freki the wolves variously pattered around their feet and went off sniffing.
“’Twas definitely angels involved. Your kind aren’t terribly subtle!” Wotan told him.
“Yeah. You got any idea which way they went?”
He and Skwisgaar exchanged glances. “Well, that as yet is a bit of a puzzlement!”
“Look, I told you Eototo is a hunter….”
“And I told you the little son of a bitch won’t get away from me!” Wotan sneered. “He made my Lady Raziel cry her eyes out! I am not pleased with your friend.” The Norse god turned and strode off with Skwisgaar, Raziel and the wolves pattering behind.
"Sariel?" It was Ganesh. He was holding a file folder under his arm.
"Boy, I’d hate to see that guy when he really got mad.”
Ganesh was wearing the reading glasses that he claimed he did not really need. He tapped the file folder. "This is the boy, Aaron's, medical charts. I asked to review them. Might I ask, did you get a good chance to observe the boy?"
"No."
"Oh. I had assumed, since he and the Lady Raziel were doing artwork...."
"Ganesh, I took one look at him and ran out the door. Like an asshole. Like a complete asshole."
"Not an atypical reaction to deformity," Ganesh mused. "A very human reaction."
"What did you want to tell me?"
"I have some experience with cases of prenatal magic abuse. This boy's case is quite atypical. I have honestly never seen the like.”
“So, what does that mean?”
“It means quite simply I feel we do not have the full story.”
“Well, there’s a surprise.” He frowned at the medical charts. “If we get him back, do you think that you….”
“No,” Ganesh said, shaking his head. He set his unneeded reading glasses atop his head. “There is no surgical remedy for this condition. And, unfortunately, were I to use my powers, it would most likely kill him.” He frowned. “Sariel,” he said, very softly, “you are not responsible….”
“We fucked these people, Ganesh. Angels fucked them up the ass, and then I took off and left…. And, there’s something else. I don’t know.”
Ganesh looked puzzled.
“Sariel?” It was Grandma.
“Yeah?”
“We got someone else wants to talk to you.”
Raziel and Ganesh had come with them. Ofdensen was surprised by how cheerfully Ganesh, who was as usual dressed to the nines, had agreed to ride in the back of Grandma’s dusty pickup truck with Raziel and the nosy coyotes. Perhaps the god had been granted a special power of repelling dust and animal fur? He smoked silently, stealing occasional glances of them in the rear view mirror, grateful at least that Grandma could hardly scold him for smoking when she rarely took that pipe from her mouth.
He noticed that the latch on the front gate was broken. The gate flapped slowly in the wind.
She looked no more than sixteen years old. And she was lovely, the way only the very young – or the immortal – can be lovely.
Her eyes were very old.
“So,” Blue Corn Maiden said to Sariel, old eyes narrowed, “you’re the one.”
He didn’t say anything. Her lips were a perfect Cupid’s bow. She looked like a girl who would be a great beauty in a year or so, when she finally lost the baby fat. Only it was not baby fat.
“You used your magic. You stole his heart away,” Corn Maiden said.
“Blue,” Grandma said sharply.
Ofdensen frowned ever so slightly at Blue Corn Maiden. She would never quite be a beautiful woman, he thought, because she was never to be a woman. She was always going to be a girl.
“He was my destined one. And you were all he could think about.”
“Blue. Now, child, you know well, the state of things between you and the Chief. That man didn’t need Sariel as an excuse to stray.”
It was something regretful about immortals, Ofdensen found himself thinking, some of them were condemned to spend eternity as children.
“Our land needed us. The land needed us to stay together,” the Maiden said.
“It is true, some magic requires male and female,” Ganesh broke in. He extended an elegant hand towards Raziel, who sat in back, for once, not chattering. “There is no requirement however that the two parties involved maintain a relationship separate from ones duties, however. I often perform dance magic with the Lady. And yet she is affianced to another.”
“And Sariel belongs to you now?” Corn Maiden asked, hissing out his name.
“I wouldn’t say-“ Ofdensen began.
Yes,” Ganesh answered, returning her withering stare.
“You better had keep him in hand.”
“I intend to.”
“Guys!” Ofdensen said. “Uh. You keep referring to Eototo in the past tense.”
She refocused her glare onto him. “He went off with you. With your people. I know what is to become of him.” And then the anger crumbled into tears. She sniffled mightily for a bit, and then finally looked up to see Ofdensen’s handkerchief dangling in her face. She seized it and blubbered into it, her composure sapped away in grief.
Crouching in front of her, Ofdensen sighed – another ruined handkerchief. “I didn’t know about these other people,” he told her. “Other angels. Tell me about them.”
“He didn’t think I knew about them. But I did. They weren’t like you. They were big. And there were always four of them.”
“Hon said three.”
“Yes.” She looked up, her cheeks streaked with salt. “The last time…. The last time, there were only three. One went missing I guess.”
“And they didn’t see you?”
“I wasn’t actually there. I can sometimes walk with him. In the Dreamtime.”
“Blue!” Grandma said sharply. “You shouldn’t be doin’ that! That’s invadin’ a man’s privacy!”
“How else was I to know where he was? With you in that horrible little music shop,” she snarled at Ofdensen.
“I hadn’t seen him in almost a century. I mean, before the other night.”
“I know,” she said, her fine lips poised in a pout. “I know.”
“Hon said he sometimes took Eototo to the airport. Do you have any idea where he went?”
She was quiet for a moment. But this time not because she was angry. She looked down, and whispered. “Yes. There was another place. A powerful place. I was afraid to go there. I never followed him there.”
“You don’t know where it could be, though?”
“I don’t know places of the world,” she protested. “I only ever been here.” She closed her eyes for a time. “There were people there. Human beings.”
“She means Native people,” Grandma explained.
Corn Maiden nodded. “Not us. But, they were gone. The humans. I think they all been killed. I don’t know how I know.”
Ofdensen stood holding Corn Maiden’s gate. He wasn’t sure why the broken latch annoyed him so much.
And then someone had grabbed his elbow. He knew that tiny, vise-like grip.
Raziel marched him out of earshot and stood, arms crossed, expectant. “All right. So, would you like to tell me about you and Eototo?”
“I’ve already told you.”
“While he was with you, he longed for Corn Maiden. And then he’d go to Corn Maiden, and spend the day in pleasant daydreams of his angel? I thought he was an ass. Now I think he is a complete idiot as well.”
“It’s possible. Look. He seemed genuinely upset about something when we were together. Maybe it was the Maiden. Or maybe it was the big fucking Seraphim threatening to kick his ass.”
“And you didn’t know about the other angels?”
“No idea. I don’t know when they started visiting. Maybe it was after my time? Look, Raziel, you gotta understand, this is a small town. A really small town. He was supposed to be with Corn Maiden. And I’m an angel for Christ’s sakes. We tried to keep it quiet. And he kept me away from the Rez.”
“But you knew Grandma?”
“Everybody knew Grandma.” He shook his head. “That was separate. She was having trouble with her truck for a while. I ended up giving her rides here and there. And then she’d make me come eat stew. She makes it with some kind of rare herb….”
“So, when did you forget how to drive a stick?”
He frowned.
“And Grandma knew what was going on?” Raziel asked.
“Probably. She probably knew all along. You know, looking back, the problems with her rig – she was probably watching me. And I was too stupid to realize it.”
“No surprise. You’re pretty oblivious, when you want to be.” She narrowed her eyes. “And now you’re sure everything everywhere is all your fault.”
“I believe I have some fault in this matter.”
“Sariel. She just looks like a teenager. She’s fucking been around earth longer than you have.”
“I suppose you’re gonna tell me how you woulda just cut a couple of Eototo’s legs off.”
“I decided long ago that either you dismember life, or it dismembers you!”
He stared at her. “Raziel. That is the stupidest fucking motto in the history of existence.”
Raziel looked left and right. She leaned over and whispered, “Ganesh has a jealous streak.”
He looked around to see they were alone. He nodded at her.
“These earth gods,” she said. “It’s different, you know.”
“No. I don’t know. You go out with Ganesh. And Wotan isn’t jealous.”
“Yes, but Lord Ganesh is the son of Wotan’s oldest friend! Nothing untoward may happen. It would be dishonorable.”
“Yeah, but, you guys do that dancing stuff. Honestly, Raziel, don’t you think it’s a little over the top?”
“That’s his magic! Sometimes, as he said, it requires male and female, so I help.”
“I guess I don’t understand.”
“You dance with him now, right?”
“Of course not!”
“OH!” Raziel looked horrified. “No wonder he is sad!”
“He’s … sad?”
“It’s part of his being! His family! His magic! And you let Eototo dance for you?” She looked genuinely scandalized. “You didn’t join him in his dance, did you?
“You saw me! I sat on the fence getting fucking soaked through the whole thing!” But Raziel was now eyeing him suspiciously. “You were watching me the entire time.”
“But you are very, very, very sneaky,” she said, emphasizing the “very’s” with little pokes in his ribs.
“I did not dance with Eototo.”
“Well, see that you don’t! Or it won’t be only Grandma coming to kick your skinny ass!”
“Raziel!” But she was already flouncing off.
“What’s the matter?” Ofdensen turned. It was Ganesh.
“Raziel is being…. Uh. Raziel. Ish.”
“Is she poking you?” Ganesh grinned. “You might try poking back.”
“Uh. Ganesh? About Eototo….”
“I simply cannot have it, Sariel!” Ganesh exploded. He only had two hands out at the moment, but he suddenly seemed to be shaking about 200 accusing index fingers. “I have seen the kind of life my parents lead, and I have sworn to myself, I will not follow in their path! Perhaps you do not know our ways as I do, but there are few of our kind as honest and as brave as Lord Wotan! When he felt it was time, he chose to go his separate way from his ex-wife, the Lady Freyja. And, this has opened the path to his life with Lady Raziel. Most earth gods will not do that. They go on, like my parents, or that wretched girl in there, performing their magic together, but feigning as well a marriage, long past the time when there is mutual affection! This is not something I will brook! If you shall be with me, then I must firmly insist, you must keep yourself away from other earth gods! Or we shall truly take our separate paths!”
“OK. OK. All right. Ganesh? That’s fine. No other earth gods. If you want me to stay away from all other men, that’s fine. I’ll put Dethklok in chastity belts….
Ganesh suddenly looked puzzled. “What should I care of your band? They are humans. I mean, they are humans, aren’t they?”
“Um. Good question.” Ofdensen grabbed his pack of Marlboros. “Look! I’ll give up these! I like them more than my band sometimes.” He flipped the pack away. “Just. Cool it, a bit, OK?”
Ganesh frowned.
“I don’t think it’s probably too good for us.” He sighed. He stooped down and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the ground. “Look, I know I’m an angel, but you are gonna have to trust me. A bit.” He fumbled for a cigarette.
“Would you really give up the cigarettes?”
Ofdensen cringed, pack in his hand. “Um. I might. You know. Cut down?”
“’Tis not a good habit.” The wagging fingers again. “Lady Raziel is correct, your chakras have become disharmonious.”
“Do I even fucking have a chakra?” He sighed and regretfully put the pack away. “OK. How about, after Raziel’s misbegotten wedding, I’ll cut down? What about that?”
“That is a fine plan! I have nicotine patches to ease the transition!” Ganesh told him.
“Uh. Yeah.”
They drove in silence back to Granma’s house. All of Ofdensen’s attentions were woefully directed towards the pack of Marlboros in his jacket.
Wotan and Skwisgaar had returned from the hospital facility.
“They ams goings off in two directions,” Skwisgaar explained.
“We think they split up,” Wotan said. “Aaron seems to have been taken north, and your friend, south.” He looked to Raziel. “What say you, Lady?”
Raziel looked uncharacteristically thoughtful. “Keep with the original plan. You guys go south and hunt down Eototo. I’ll go with Pickles to find Aaron in the Dreamtime.”
“We could split the hunting party, Lady.”
“No. No. I want you all going after that guy. I had a feeling about him. A bad feeling. Whatever it is he’s been up to, I think we’re gonna need all of you.”
“We’ll go get the horses mounted up,” Wotan said.
Raziel glanced at Ofdensen. “You and your exes,” she smiled.
“Thanks, Raziel, because I didn’t already feel rotten enough.” He stopped. His elbow was caught in a tiny, vise-like grip.
“Be. Careful.”
Ofdensen pushed inside Grandma’s house. Pickles sat, alone dejected-looking, in the living room, glowering at the remote control.
“I t’ink dis t’ing needs new batteries,” he grumbled.
“Wotan wants to take off. Are you gonna be OK?”
Pickles glared at Charles. “I don’t feckin’ know. I don’t feckin’ know what I’m gonna do, ‘cause I don’t feckin’ know what the feck it is I do, and dey’re all treatin’ me like I know what I’m gonna do.”
“So, in other words, you’re fine.” The glare intensified an order of magnitude. Charles put up his hands. “It was a joke! Look, I’d come with you if I could. I hate hunting! Only I think I’d be even more useless with you guys.”
Pickles scowled some more. Finally he said, “So, you gonna tell da Gannish dood about Nat’an?”
Charles sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Tell him what about Nathan?”
“Yoo know, it never mattered much t’ me,” Pickles said, glaring now at the television, “but I t’ink it’s gonna matter t’ dat guy.”
“Tell him WHAT about Nathan?”
Pickles shrugged. “You know.”
“I KNOW WHAT?” Charles demanded.
Pickles’ expression had now turned from an angry glare to a hurt glare.
“OK,” Charles finally said. “Look. I picked you first for the band, right? And, we built it around what you wanted. You didn’t wanna get beer bottles in the head, so we moved you to drums and got other guys! We brought in Nathan for you! Because you didn’t wanna sing lead any more! And then…. And then, I would carry on with you. For years! When they were threatening to fire me! I kept going back to you! And…. It’s just never enough with you, is it? You’re all a bunch of fucking narcissists, and it’s never enough!” He threw up his hands and started to stalk off.
“We’re supposed t’ be narcissists, dood. We’re feckin’ rock stars.”
Charles stopped and turned back. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Dat’s OK dood. We’ll figure it out, OK?” He was standing in front of Charles now, grabbing his hands.
“Yeah. Look. I’m sorry. Just been getting it up the ass a lot today.”
“Not in a good way?”
“No. Definitely NOT in a good way.”
Pickles pressed his forehead to Charles’ and just stood for a moment.
“Goodbye kiss?” the redhead asked.
“Yeah. OK.” So they did.
Pickles was grinning. “Goodbye blow job?”
‘Uh, that’s a no,” said Charles, laughing and taking a step back.
“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’,” Pickles grinned.
“I’m not saying I’m not tempted. But I’m in enough trouble.”
“Dood! You can never be in enough trouble.”
“Yeah. Yeah, actually. I can.” And he clattered out Grandma’s door.
Raziel strode inside. “Are you ready to walk?” she asked.
Pickles collapsed back on the couch. “I can’t even make a feckin’ remote control work. An’ now I’m takin’ an angel t’ look fer a lost shaman?”
“I know. Isn’t it terrific?” She bounced down on the couch next to him. “What are we watching? Is there any Monty Python?”
“All I c’n get is some show in Spanish wit’ a dude wit’ an eyepatch.”
“Oh, I love that show! Only I hate that guy with the long hair.”
“Yeah, he’s a douche.”
****
NOTE: I had no idea anybody actually remembered, but that very last bit is a reference to one of the first fics I wrote, NovelaKlok, which, if you wanna waste a bit more time, is posted here and here.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kidnapping, smoking and Monty Python
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing, smoking.
Notes: Notes after the jump
Cross-posted to
capslokdethklok.This is a Metalocalypse AU which
tiktaalikroseae has dubbed “Mythklok.” Here are the other bits, about an angelic visit (Chapter 1), a hunt (Chapter 2), a barbecue (Chapter 3), a ski trip (Chapter 4), a sword fight (Chapter 5), Bette Davis Movies (Chapter 6), a concert (Chapter 7), tall tales (Chapter WTF), a trial (Chapter8), an argument (Chapter 9), a stray cat (Chapter 10), Satan’s shinkansen system (Chapter 11), the highway to Hell (Chapter 12), a meeting with Satan (Chapter 13), a tiger hunt (Chapter 14) and Hamms beer signs (Chapter 15).And it all everything eventually ends up rolling to my fic journal,
tikific, where you are welcome to come poke it with a stick.THE STORY SO FAR: This is thing has now slithered completely out of canon and into the realm of barking madcap weirdness. Charles is a Fallen angel who used to go by the name of Sariel. For many centuries he tried to leave memories of this existence behind him (as Heaven is full of douche bags) but now several weird immortal beings have started showing up at Mordhaus and making his existence even more complicated. Raziel is a ditzy Seraph who used to be his partner in crime. She is now King Wotan’s fiancée. Wotan, as we all know, is head of the Norse pantheon, and, as we all suspect, Skwisgaar’s birth father. One of Wotan’s hunting buddies is Shiva, lord of destruction and Dethklok super fan. Charles is currently involved with Shiva’s son, Ganesh, a well-tailored elephant god with a rather sexy British accent.
In the last few chapters, Charles dragged Raziel – currently in full metal bridezilla mode – off to the Southwest to seek out the legendary monsters that seem to be of interest to the Legion, the angel army. They met Spider Grandma, a Kachina; Aaron, the tribe’s disabled young human shaman; and Eototo, one of Charles’ old flames who evidently yearned to renew a bit of that old spark. Charles left Lord Ganesh in charge of Dethklok for the weekend. Some bonding occurred, as well as ingestion of controlled substances and a certain amount of frolicking with strippers. Lord Ganesh was however not pleased to learn that Charles had spent some of his time in the Southwest starting thunderstorm with an old boyfriend who happens to be a god.
A number of years ago….
“The Depression is soooo depressing!”
“I am sorry you have been inconvenienced by a global economic catastrophe, Raziel. By the way,” Sariel – who hadn’t gone by the name Sariel for some centuries – wiped his hands on a rag. “If you find this place annoying, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“What, the New World?”
“No one calls it the New World anymore.”
“I was in the neighborhood, and saw a light in your window.”
“I meant, what were you doing in my universe?”
“Just wanted to visit my Little Brother.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So what are you doing back here? Did you get dumped again?”
“I did not….”
“You got dumped again didn’t you?”
“He didn’t dump me!” Sariel took a violin down from the music shop shelves and began to thumb a string. “He…. He was just about to dump me.”
“The same guy? The Chief?”
Sariel sighed, and picked up a bow. “Yeah, same guy.”
“Look, why don’t you introduce us, I’ll have a little talk with him.”
“Raziel! I like him as he is, with all his limbs intact.”
“Aw! What fun is being your Honored Sister if I can’t mutilate your exes?”
“I don’t know. If you’re bored, you might consider leaving.”
“Will you come with me?”
“Come with you where?” He had tucked the violin under his chin, but hesitated with the bow in his hand.
“North Africa!”
“Why the FUCK would you wanna go to North Africa?”
“Can’t go to Italy. They made it icky.”
“Well, I’m sorry you find Fascism icky.”
“So you’ll come?”
“Why would I wanna abandon all this?” Sariel drew the bow across the strings.
“Do people even come to a music shop during a Depression?”
“Sure. They just don’t spend any money.” He stopped and turned one of the pegs slightly. “So, what’s in North Africa?”
“Adventure! Excitement! Romance!”
“What’s gonna happen is, you’re gonna drag me there, and then run off with some pretty man, and leave me all alone in the middle of fucking Morocco with no money and no job.”
“You’ve got no money now,” Raziel chirped. “And you’re soon to be all alone.”
He placed the violin down and regarded the angel girl, who was sitting on the counter, kicking her legs, and grinning at him.
“I’m gonna regret this.”
Raziel’s grin widened as she grabbed him by the collar. And then neither of them was standing in the shop any longer.
“Doesn’t look like there’s anyone here,” the big man said. He was leaning on the music shop’s plate glass window, shielding his eyes with his two big hands. “Looks like there’s a layer of dust over everything.”
The big, bear-like man turned back to regard his companion, who was standing by the car. The big man looked Native American, although that term would not come into common use for many decades.
His companion was equally tall, but lanky. He had long, jet black hair, and arresting pale blue eyes. The eyes looked worried.
"Who is this guy, anyway? You wanna buy a violin or some shit?" the bear-like man asked.
"No one," the lanky man answered. “He's no one all."
The blue-eyed man was alone now. Alone in the middle of the desert.
But then, quite suddenly, he was not alone.
There were four of them. They were big - even bigger than his bear-like friend. They surrounded him now, like four points of the compass.
“We asked you for one thing, one very simple thing,” said one of them, red-faced. “And you find you cannot achieve this very simple thing for us?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. It’s like he just vanished off the face of the earth.”
“He is an angel. He is likely to do that.”
“As you well know, my power is rooted in the land. I can’t go around the world, chasing after him.”
“This is why you were supposed to keep him nearby. It was one simple thing. Evidently too much for a little earth god."
"What happens now?" asked the blue-eyed man.
“I am an angel of vengeance. I am not usually a forgiving man. But perhaps, in this case, we can make some sort of arrangement.”
“We are looking for something,” smiled another of the large beings. “Such a little thing. Such a very small task.
The present day….
Ofdensen found himself half hoping Ganesh would make good on the threat to chain him down to the Hindu god’s bed, so he would have an excuse never to leave it again.
He was smoking. So in order to technically comply with Ganesh’s rule about no smoking on the bed, he was lying hanging halfway off the end of the bed so he could occasionally reach up over his head to the ashtray on the floor.
Ganesh suddenly came out of the bathroom. “What exactly is it you’re doing there?” he asked, more puzzled than angry.
“I’m not smoking on the bed!” Ofdensen said, ditching the cigarette in the ashtray over his head and abruptly snapping up to a sitting position.
Ganesh stood, hands on hips, more hands scratching his head. “How do you even do that without breaking yourself in two?”
“I thought you liked the fact that I’m flexible?” Ofdensen laughed, rolling onto his stomach. Ganesh sat down next to him. He still had an extra set of arms out. He had one hand on Ofdensen’s back. The angel soon realized he was tracing the scars back there.
‘You wanna know about all the fucked up shit in my past?” Ofdensen asked him.
“Yes?”
“A lot of those are from Uriah. He was an early mistake. A bad mistake.”
“Some look … new.”
“Yes.”
“You know, I have some medicine that could-“
“No.”
“All right.”
“I have issues…. I mean, with control. I thought that was the way. Anyway, I was wrong.”
“What happened?”
Ofdensen put his head down on his arms, wishing for his cigarette back. “I punched him one day. And, then I shot my mouth off at the worst possible time. And ended up exiled here.”
Ganesh was silent for a while. Finally he said, “You are Fallen because you struck an abusive man?”
He shrugged into the bed. The sheets were soft. “Well, it was more complicated than that. But, essentially, yeah.”
“There is much I fail to comprehend regarding the ways of angels.”
“Well, me too, I guess.”
Ganesh hugged one leg to his chin, as he tended to do when he was considering something. “And, you were sent here with nothing?”
“Naked. I had a pack of smokes.” He gazed fondly at the abandoned cigarette, going to ash in the ashtray. “They throw you to the ground. Literally.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“It’s supposed to be humiliating.”
“And you are now confined to this reality?”
‘Yeah.”
“It has always been that way for me, as it is for our kind. So, I know of nothing else. If I were to choose to live in a universe, however, it would be this one. Here, we have our freedom. And that is important.”
Sariel regarded him. “Here you have death. And that’s important too.”
There was a knocking at the bedroom door. Ganesh looked up, curious. He pulled on a robe and went to open it. “Lady Raziel?” he said, suddenly opening the door wide.
“Sariel,” she said. Ofdensen was pulling on a pair of pants.
“Raziel? What the fuck? Is Wotan OK?”
She had obviously been crying, and had not bothered to fix her makeup. “You guys weren’t answering phones. Grandma…. Grandma called. There were angels…”
Ofdensen had her by the shoulders. “Grandma? Spider Grandma? Called you?”
She nodded.
“Angels what?”
“They came and took Aaron.”
“He’s a human! Why would they…?”
“Who is Aaron?” Ganesh asked.
“The Kachinas. He’s their shaman,” Ofdensen told him. He walked Raziel over to the end of Ganesh’s bed and sat her down. “But he’s just a kid. A human kid. And he’s disabled. Really disabled. His mom was doing magic.”
Ganesh nodded. “I have seen some of those children.”
“We’ll get him, all right?” Ofdensen told Raziel.
“Sariel,” she said, softly. She took his hands in her small ones. “Eototo is missing.”
“Did they…. Did they kidnap him too?” His voice was almost hopeful.
“It looks like he went willingly.” She gripped his hands more tightly. “It looks like he was with them.”
He was suddenly standing, trying to control his breathing.
“Perhaps you should have taken that umbrella and crammed it up his ass,” Ganesh offered dryly.
His eyes had gone pure silver. “I’m gonna do worse,” he said. “Much, much worse.”
Raziel was the first to appear, so she sat herself down in Sariel’s chair in his office. It was really the nicest chair, and it made you feel serious and important just sitting in it. Though, it was a little too low for her. As was really just about everything in the human world. So she sat up on her knees in the chair. She noticed the box of cigars immediately, and reached over to it.
Ganesha had entered. He entered the boring way, through the office door. Because although Ganesha was one of her favorite people in the world, really, he was a bit formal sometimes.
“Do you smoke cigars, Ganesh?” she asked.
“What?”
“Do you smoke cigars?” she asked, opening the cigar box.
“I usually just stick to my Indian cigarettes.”
“Sariel taught me to smoke cigars when we went to America. I think we should smoke cigars. Wotan says it helps him think, and also it makes him look important and jaunty!”
Ganesha smiled just a bit, and took a cigar as well.
Soon the office was filled with various beings, whom Raziel was certain to supply with Sariel’s cigars and, as an additional aid to strategic planning, Sariel’s single malt Scotch.
“I think we should utilize a two-pronged strategy,” Raziel opined. She congratulated herself. “Two-pronged” sounded very strategic. “My Lord Wotan will lead the hunt for the perpetrators in the physical realm, and meanwhile, we will go with the original plan of having Pickles use his spirit animal to contact Aaron in the Dreamtime.” Yes, perpetrators. She had heard someone use that word on a human television program featuring very good-looking human detectives. She wondered if it was a requirement for human police personnel to be terribly good looking.
Sariel had finally reached his office. He looked around. “Uh, are those my good cigars?”
“I’m planning our mission!” Raziel told him.
“Actually,” said Wotan, “She is. And, it’s a pretty good plan.”
“I taught her to smoke,” Sariel sniffed.
“Pickles,” Raziel asked, “I don’t have a good grasp of your methods. Would you be able to located Aaron from here in Mordhaus.”
“I don’t have a grasp of ‘em either, Lady Raz. I t’ink we should go to da Indian village. I just t’ink it would be easier starting from dere, from where he lived.”
“My hunting party will best start out at the facility where he was living,” Wotan said.
“Wotan,” Ofdensen pointed out. “Eototo is a hunter too. He’ll know how to cover his tracks.”
“No one – man nor god – can cover their tracks well enough to hide ‘em from me,” the god growled. “I fucking invented hunting.”
“Shall I accompany Lady Raziel, or go with you and Lord Wotan?” Ganesh asked.
“Uh, neither,” Sariel told him.
“Sorry?”
“You can…. You can watch over Mordhaus again.”
“No.”
“Uh, yes. Ganesh, last time you went along, you didn’t nearly die, you DIED.…”
“Are we expecting to meet more of your Kachina ex-flames over there?” Ganesh purred.
“Can we…. Can we talk about this outside?” Ganesh glared as Sariel marched him out of the office and into the hallway, where voices were raised.
“Uh-oh,” laughed Pickles.
“Sariel is a lot of fun to argue with!” Raziel stated.
“Can you go with Pickles on the spirit walk?” Wotan asked Raziel.
“But, honey, you know drugs make me all giggly!”
“I think it would be best were one of us along to protect him. And you have met Aaron.”
“Well, that’s true. I’m sure we can get the Kachinas to help too.”
“Nat’an says he always meets da Kachina doods an’ Spider Grandma, right Nat’an?”
Nathan didn’t reply. There was a small smash as his whiskey glass dropped to the floor. He was staring out into the hallway, where the argument had stopped. Ganesh was embracing Sariel in a very, very deep kiss. Sariel reached up and grabbed the Hindu god’s collar, and they disappeared.
“Whoa,” said Pickles.
“Hee, our arguments never ended that way,” grinned Raziel.
“Well, I should hope not!” sniffed Wotan.
“Oh, hi, Toki! Did you want a cigar?” Raziel called.
“No, Raziel,” said the Norwegian, who had just entered the office. “You ams plannings da missions?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re doing! That’s why we’re smoking cigars and looking jaunty!”
“I ams talks to my friends da goddesses, and dey ams wants to helps!”
“Oh, that’s splendid news Toki!”
Ofdensen was sitting naked on the floor next to his ridiculous new bed. He had intentionally taken himself and Ganesh to his own room so he could smoke in bed. But then it didn’t seem right to smoke on a brand new bed, so he ended up sitting on the damn floor anyway. He was going through his jacket, trying to remember which pocket had the cigarettes.
“If you want to come along, you should come along. I just wish you wouldn’t,” he told Ganesh, finally locating his pack of Marlboros. “I’d just…. I’d rather you didn’t die, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I am not intending on dying. Not in the near future anyway.” Ganesh crawled over to the coast of the bed nearest to Ofdensen, and propped himself up on two of his elbows. “You forget, I’ve had rather a lot of experience with this kind of thing. And I’ve managed to keep alive quite well thank you. I am not one of your humans.”
“Well, obviously not. ‘My’ humans tend to have no more than two or three arms at most.” Cigarette in mouth, he was now rooting through his clothing for a book of matches. He had so far located a guitar pick and several of Toki’s candy wrappers.
Ganesh regarded the fingernails on his third hand. “Do you find this Form … upsetting?” he asked. “I could … restrain myself, it if makes you more comfortable.”
“No, no!” He stopped his match hunt for a moment and propped an arm on the bed. “Angels…. We’re sort of weird about our Forms. You don’t show anybody your True Form. Unless you’re about to kill them.”
“A most grave misuse of that Form, if you’d care for my opinion,” Ganesh mused. “Anyway, shall we get back to the meeting?”
Sariel had located a match and struck it greedily. “Yeah, uh, just lemme have a cigarette and a couple more minutes of peace….”
“Um, Sariel, do you think if you are going to smoke a cigarette, you might want to first put on a pair of-“
“Aiiiiii! GOD DAMMIT!”
It took two full sets of hands to cover Ganesh’s mouth well enough so Sariel could not hear him laughing
Lord Wotan strode through the gardens at Mordhaus. He had an arm around Toki Wartooth’s shoulders, and was holding forth animatedly about something to the young guitarist.
“My home. Is going to be guarded. By a Stitch n Bitch meeting,” Ofdensen sighed.
Standing beside him on the balcony, Raziel giggled. “The goddesses did pretty well against you during your last encounter.”
He glared at her. “What is Wotan going on about anyway?”
“Oh, he loves doing this. Probably a pep talk. Firing up the troops!”
“In war we're tough and able, quite indefatigable,” Ganesh approached behind them, singing.
“Between our quests we sequin vests and impersonate Clark Gable,” Raziel replied, and both dissolved into giggles.
“OK, what the fuck?”
“Ganesh has been teaching me about the greatest of all human comedy troupes, Monty Python!” Raziel told him.
“Monty Python? Monty Python is hardly the greatest human comedy troupe.”
“What can you mean?” Ganesh scoffed. “They are unsurpassed!”
“They aren’t funnier than the Marx Brothers!” Ofdensen snorted.
“Yes they are!”
“No they’re not.”
“An argument? You want room 12A, just down the corridor,” Ganesh laughed, to gales of laughter from Raziel. “And when we return from our quest, I shall introduce you to the classics: the Goon Show!”
“The classics?” Ofdensen sputtered. “What the fuck are you teaching her? What about Chaplin? Keaton? Laurel and Hardy?”
“Some of your American comedians did have a certain merit,” Ganesh conceded.
“A certain merit?”
“My apologies, but Lord Wotan is beckoning me. Perhaps we may continue this considered discussion at some future opportunity?” Ganesh smiled and departed.
“He has no idea. NO IDEA! And….” Ofdensen turned his attention back down to the gardens, where Lord Wotan was now holding forth about something at Skwisgaar, whose face, for once, held an expression which could not be described as disdainful. “And, why didn’t your boyfriend call me down for one of those fucking pep talks? I have to go on the goddam hunting party too! And I fucking hate hunting!”
“Maybe he thinks you need to, you know, run your empire? Or something?”
“Run my empire? What fucking empire! I don’t have time to manage Dethklok anymore! I’m always going to get lead singers out of Hell, or getting tied up by knitting goddesses, or running after Hopi kidnap victims. And, oh, fuck, Raziel, do not look at me like that.”
“Like what?” The little angel’s expression looked on the verge of either erupting in a fury or bursting into tears, both of which carried handkerchief-ruining potential.
“I’m sorry. We’ll get the boy back. OK?”
Her expression wavered into anger. “You should have let me dismember Eototo.”
“Honestly, I knew he could be a jerk, but I didn’t think he was capable of something like this. Something seems really off, and I don’t know what it is.”
“Angels are what happened. We turn everything to shit.”
“You think it was us?”
“Of course it was us. You don’t think so?”
Ofdensen shook his head. “The boy has been in that place, what? How many years? And they didn’t show any interest in him.”
“You showed an interest in him. Michael’s obsessed with you.”
“Why didn’t they just fucking kill me when they had the chance?”
“Maybe they needed you? To lead them to the monsters.”
“Oh, Christ, no.” Ofdensen put his head in his hands. He looked down to the garden again, to see Wotan talking to Skwisgaar and Ganesh.
“I don’t know,” Raziel said, following his gaze. “I’m not a strategy person.”
“Raziel, can you please quit playing dumb with me for a few minutes?” She blinked at him, surprised. “’Just tell me who to kill and when to kill them.’ No. Not anymore. You’re in this with me, this time.”
She looked down at the garden. And then looked at Sariel. “You’re no longer an angel. But I am. I am. An angel of vengeance. And I am out for some.”
“This will be like old times,” Wotan said, “Off on the hunt, with my sons.” And so saying, he put one arm around Skwisgaar’s shoulders and the other around Ganesh’s and strode down the Dethcopter’s gangplank and out into the Southwest, Geri and Freki the wolves happily padding behind them.
Ofdensen stood behind, flicking cigarette ashes. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Like old times.”
He was suddenly tackled by a whirlwind. “Aren’t ya coming?” asked Raziel, who had grabbed an elbow in her tiny, iron grip.
“Yeh, dood, are yoo jist gonna stand here and feckin’ smoke?” groused Pickles, who had the other elbow. And so he found himself frog-marched to the end of the gangplank.
Spider Grandma was already there, corncob pipe in mouth, standing alongside her ancient Chevy pickup truck with Kwahu the eagle Kachina.
“A classic vehicle!” Wotan was saying admiringly of her pickup.
“Bought it used,” Grandma said. “Ain’t had a day’s trouble with it.”
“Uh, Grandma,” Ofdensen told her, “have you met Lord Wotan?”
The Norse god bowed deeply. “I have not had the honor.”
“Well, I don’t get out as much as I done,” Grandma allowed. “So, I hear you’re marryin’ this angel girl?” she asked, as Raziel (who had been busy introducing Geri and Freki to Grandma’s coyotes) came up beside him.
Wotan grinned and seized Raziel’s small hand. “I have asked for her hand, I she accepted.” He kissed Raziel’s hand.
“Can’t imagine you’re very popular with Headquarters,”
Wotan grinned. “Begging your pardon, madam, but Headquarters can kiss my royal ass.”
Grandma howled with laughter. “Well, aren’t you are a pistol? But Grandma is what everyone calls me. Come!” She motioned for a hug, and Wotan ended up nearly enveloping her in his mighty grasp.
Wotan had Skwisgaar’s shoulder in his grip. “And may I present my son Skwisgaar?”
“Ah, a good lookin’ son of Odin! Welcome boy.” Grandma hugged Skwisgaar, who actually smiled faintly at her.
“And this is my oldest friend, Lord Shiva’s son, Lord Ganesh,” Wotan said.
“Well, look at you! And here I thought Lady Raziel was gilding the lily – you’re just as handsome as she said you were. Come give grandma a hug! And if you ever get tired of Sariel’s moods, you remember I’m not all that old!”
“We will perhaps never know, Lady, what would have befallen had I made your lovely acquaintance prior to meeting Sariel,” Ganesh grinned.
“Ah, a charmer too! You best not break up with this one, Sariel, boy, I’ll come kick your skinny ass!”
“Uh, yeah.” Ofdensen frowned irritably. “Oh, and, uh, I don’t think you’ve met Pickles yet, Grandma?”
Kwahu, who had been watching a bit distractedly, suddenly whispered something to Grandma. She bowed formally to Pickles. “Ah, your shaman. I am honored to meet ya.”
“Uh, I’m not really….” Pickles started.
“You’re the one who went and found your singer? After Hon and Kwahu stranded him in the Dreamtime?” She shot an annoyed glance at Kwahu.
“We mighta hid him in there,” Kwahu said, grinning.
Ofdensen glared at Kwahu. “Half an hour before a concert,” he grumbled.
“Yeah, I guess it was a dick move, man,” Kwahu said. “But your boy Nathan did say he wanted to talk to Grandma.”
“You got some powerful medicine, boy,” Grandma told a baffled looking Pickles, embracing him. “You folks come back to the house and we’ll get some groceries. They found Hon.”
“Wait, I didn’t know he was missing?” Ofdensen asked.
“I thought the little bastard had just run off drinking again,” Grandma huffed. “He does that.” She fixed Kwahu with a glare.
“Can I talk with him?” Ofdensen asked.
“Yeah, but we’re getting some food into you first. Does this one still treat nicotine like a vegetable?” she asked Ganesh.
“I have lectured him at length on the benefits of nutrition, but alas, to no avail!”
Hon didn’t look like he should be out of bed, but he was resting uncomfortably on Grandma’s couch. Half his head was swathed in a bandage, and one arm was in a sling.
Ofdensen cringed internally but started in, “Did the angels-“
“No, dude. The Chief fucking clocked me,” the bear Kachina grumbled.
“Oh.”
“Think the sonofabitch used magic. Anyway. I don’t know how fucking long I was in a ditch before they found me.” Hon shifted on the couch, to a position that seemed equally painful.
“Well. He could have killed you….”
“Bastard,” Hon rumbled.
“Well. You wanna tell me what happened? What you remember?”
“I was the dude’s driver. Mostly because I can keep my fucking mouth shut, you know? And I take it you know about him and the Corn Maiden? He had women all over the motherfucking place….”
“Hon! Language!” scolded Grandma.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he muttered. “Anyway, he wanted to party, you know? And the old lady frowned on that kinda thing.”
“No, I didn’t know. So, uh, what happened the day you got beat up?”
“He suddenly needed to get someplace. He was real agitated about it. But, it wasn’t a woman. At least, I don’t think he’d keep one way out there. He wanted me to take him to the middle of fucking nowhere, and then leave him. He says he’s making big medicine, needs to be alone.”
“What?” said Kwahu. “Dude….”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What?” Ofdensen asked.
“You don’t usually go for a walk alone, homeboy,” Kwahu supplied. “Bad medicine.”
“I shoulda known, dude,” Hon admitted. “But he was so righteously un-mellow, you know? I figured I’d drive him out where he wanted to go, maybe it would ameliorate the agitation.”
“So what happened then?”
“So I drive him out, and it’s the middle of fucking nowhere, and then he makes me drive back up the road a mile or two, out of the way. So I’m like, cool, maybe I’ll hang, have a smoke, you know? But then, I hadn’t even had a chance to park the truck, and there’s a lightning storm! And I’m all, dude, is he doin’ his dance?”
“That would be most strange,” Kwahu mused.
“So, you know, I been the dude’s driver for like a century.” Hon shifted uncomfortably, though it was not clear it was the pain that was causing the discomfit this time. “I ain’t never been curious before. Never shot my mouth off. And I dunno what made me do it, but before I know, I’m back in my truck, running up the road. I parked a ways off, and walked around. And, he’s out there. And I knew this immediately: they were angels.”
“How many? Can you describe them? Anything else about them?”
“They weren’t like you. I mean, OK, I couldn’t see the wings, right?”
“Court Formed?”
“Yeah, but fucking huge! I mean, they towered over him. Didn’t look like any men I’d ever fucking seen. Didn’t look like you or Lady Raz. They radiated power, man.”
Raziel arched an eyebrow.
“How many?” Ofdensen asked.
“Three. And that was the other strange fucking thing: they weren’t standing in a group talking to him – they’re on all sides of him. Or spread out on three sides anyway, like they wanna surround him, or they’re workin’ some kinda magic.”
“Were they doing magic together? Could you tell?”
“I dunno, man. I didn’t stick around. He didn’t look happy, the Chief. I got the fuck out of there, got in my truck, and took it back the fuck up the road.”
“You still waited for him?”
“Oh, yeah. I figured, like this never happened, you know? I park back in the same space, and I get a smoke. Just a cigarette.”
“Ah, man, you were fucked up, dude,” sighed Kwahu.
“Then next thing I know, there’s the Chief, standing over me! I didn’t even ever go back for him! And he goes, ‘You weren’t supposed to see that.’ And I tried to tell him I didn’t see anything, but next thing I know, they’re dragging me out of the ditch.”
“Look, Hon, I know you’re loyal to the Chief….”
“Not any fucking more! That treaty-talkin’ bastard is in with the Angels. No offense.”
“None taken. Is there anything else you can tell us that might help?”
Hon looked pained. “I sometimes, when the dude was stepping out on Corn Maiden? He was leaving. I mean, away from the Rez. I would take dude down to Flag airport, and drop him off.”
“He’s bound here though, isn’t he?”
“If he wants to use his powers, yeah. They come through the land. The people.”
“Any idea where he went?”
“No idea. Like I said, I thought he had a woman. Or, you know, somebody.”
Ofdensen had Grandma drive him and Raziel over to the hospital, perhaps partly to put some distance between himself and Hon, he admitted. Wotan and Skwisgaar were nosing around the exterior, talking quietly, and chatting about this and that. Geri and Freki the wolves variously pattered around their feet and went off sniffing.
“’Twas definitely angels involved. Your kind aren’t terribly subtle!” Wotan told him.
“Yeah. You got any idea which way they went?”
He and Skwisgaar exchanged glances. “Well, that as yet is a bit of a puzzlement!”
“Look, I told you Eototo is a hunter….”
“And I told you the little son of a bitch won’t get away from me!” Wotan sneered. “He made my Lady Raziel cry her eyes out! I am not pleased with your friend.” The Norse god turned and strode off with Skwisgaar, Raziel and the wolves pattering behind.
"Sariel?" It was Ganesh. He was holding a file folder under his arm.
"Boy, I’d hate to see that guy when he really got mad.”
Ganesh was wearing the reading glasses that he claimed he did not really need. He tapped the file folder. "This is the boy, Aaron's, medical charts. I asked to review them. Might I ask, did you get a good chance to observe the boy?"
"No."
"Oh. I had assumed, since he and the Lady Raziel were doing artwork...."
"Ganesh, I took one look at him and ran out the door. Like an asshole. Like a complete asshole."
"Not an atypical reaction to deformity," Ganesh mused. "A very human reaction."
"What did you want to tell me?"
"I have some experience with cases of prenatal magic abuse. This boy's case is quite atypical. I have honestly never seen the like.”
“So, what does that mean?”
“It means quite simply I feel we do not have the full story.”
“Well, there’s a surprise.” He frowned at the medical charts. “If we get him back, do you think that you….”
“No,” Ganesh said, shaking his head. He set his unneeded reading glasses atop his head. “There is no surgical remedy for this condition. And, unfortunately, were I to use my powers, it would most likely kill him.” He frowned. “Sariel,” he said, very softly, “you are not responsible….”
“We fucked these people, Ganesh. Angels fucked them up the ass, and then I took off and left…. And, there’s something else. I don’t know.”
Ganesh looked puzzled.
“Sariel?” It was Grandma.
“Yeah?”
“We got someone else wants to talk to you.”
Raziel and Ganesh had come with them. Ofdensen was surprised by how cheerfully Ganesh, who was as usual dressed to the nines, had agreed to ride in the back of Grandma’s dusty pickup truck with Raziel and the nosy coyotes. Perhaps the god had been granted a special power of repelling dust and animal fur? He smoked silently, stealing occasional glances of them in the rear view mirror, grateful at least that Grandma could hardly scold him for smoking when she rarely took that pipe from her mouth.
He noticed that the latch on the front gate was broken. The gate flapped slowly in the wind.
She looked no more than sixteen years old. And she was lovely, the way only the very young – or the immortal – can be lovely.
Her eyes were very old.
“So,” Blue Corn Maiden said to Sariel, old eyes narrowed, “you’re the one.”
He didn’t say anything. Her lips were a perfect Cupid’s bow. She looked like a girl who would be a great beauty in a year or so, when she finally lost the baby fat. Only it was not baby fat.
“You used your magic. You stole his heart away,” Corn Maiden said.
“Blue,” Grandma said sharply.
Ofdensen frowned ever so slightly at Blue Corn Maiden. She would never quite be a beautiful woman, he thought, because she was never to be a woman. She was always going to be a girl.
“He was my destined one. And you were all he could think about.”
“Blue. Now, child, you know well, the state of things between you and the Chief. That man didn’t need Sariel as an excuse to stray.”
It was something regretful about immortals, Ofdensen found himself thinking, some of them were condemned to spend eternity as children.
“Our land needed us. The land needed us to stay together,” the Maiden said.
“It is true, some magic requires male and female,” Ganesh broke in. He extended an elegant hand towards Raziel, who sat in back, for once, not chattering. “There is no requirement however that the two parties involved maintain a relationship separate from ones duties, however. I often perform dance magic with the Lady. And yet she is affianced to another.”
“And Sariel belongs to you now?” Corn Maiden asked, hissing out his name.
“I wouldn’t say-“ Ofdensen began.
Yes,” Ganesh answered, returning her withering stare.
“You better had keep him in hand.”
“I intend to.”
“Guys!” Ofdensen said. “Uh. You keep referring to Eototo in the past tense.”
She refocused her glare onto him. “He went off with you. With your people. I know what is to become of him.” And then the anger crumbled into tears. She sniffled mightily for a bit, and then finally looked up to see Ofdensen’s handkerchief dangling in her face. She seized it and blubbered into it, her composure sapped away in grief.
Crouching in front of her, Ofdensen sighed – another ruined handkerchief. “I didn’t know about these other people,” he told her. “Other angels. Tell me about them.”
“He didn’t think I knew about them. But I did. They weren’t like you. They were big. And there were always four of them.”
“Hon said three.”
“Yes.” She looked up, her cheeks streaked with salt. “The last time…. The last time, there were only three. One went missing I guess.”
“And they didn’t see you?”
“I wasn’t actually there. I can sometimes walk with him. In the Dreamtime.”
“Blue!” Grandma said sharply. “You shouldn’t be doin’ that! That’s invadin’ a man’s privacy!”
“How else was I to know where he was? With you in that horrible little music shop,” she snarled at Ofdensen.
“I hadn’t seen him in almost a century. I mean, before the other night.”
“I know,” she said, her fine lips poised in a pout. “I know.”
“Hon said he sometimes took Eototo to the airport. Do you have any idea where he went?”
She was quiet for a moment. But this time not because she was angry. She looked down, and whispered. “Yes. There was another place. A powerful place. I was afraid to go there. I never followed him there.”
“You don’t know where it could be, though?”
“I don’t know places of the world,” she protested. “I only ever been here.” She closed her eyes for a time. “There were people there. Human beings.”
“She means Native people,” Grandma explained.
Corn Maiden nodded. “Not us. But, they were gone. The humans. I think they all been killed. I don’t know how I know.”
Ofdensen stood holding Corn Maiden’s gate. He wasn’t sure why the broken latch annoyed him so much.
And then someone had grabbed his elbow. He knew that tiny, vise-like grip.
Raziel marched him out of earshot and stood, arms crossed, expectant. “All right. So, would you like to tell me about you and Eototo?”
“I’ve already told you.”
“While he was with you, he longed for Corn Maiden. And then he’d go to Corn Maiden, and spend the day in pleasant daydreams of his angel? I thought he was an ass. Now I think he is a complete idiot as well.”
“It’s possible. Look. He seemed genuinely upset about something when we were together. Maybe it was the Maiden. Or maybe it was the big fucking Seraphim threatening to kick his ass.”
“And you didn’t know about the other angels?”
“No idea. I don’t know when they started visiting. Maybe it was after my time? Look, Raziel, you gotta understand, this is a small town. A really small town. He was supposed to be with Corn Maiden. And I’m an angel for Christ’s sakes. We tried to keep it quiet. And he kept me away from the Rez.”
“But you knew Grandma?”
“Everybody knew Grandma.” He shook his head. “That was separate. She was having trouble with her truck for a while. I ended up giving her rides here and there. And then she’d make me come eat stew. She makes it with some kind of rare herb….”
“So, when did you forget how to drive a stick?”
He frowned.
“And Grandma knew what was going on?” Raziel asked.
“Probably. She probably knew all along. You know, looking back, the problems with her rig – she was probably watching me. And I was too stupid to realize it.”
“No surprise. You’re pretty oblivious, when you want to be.” She narrowed her eyes. “And now you’re sure everything everywhere is all your fault.”
“I believe I have some fault in this matter.”
“Sariel. She just looks like a teenager. She’s fucking been around earth longer than you have.”
“I suppose you’re gonna tell me how you woulda just cut a couple of Eototo’s legs off.”
“I decided long ago that either you dismember life, or it dismembers you!”
He stared at her. “Raziel. That is the stupidest fucking motto in the history of existence.”
Raziel looked left and right. She leaned over and whispered, “Ganesh has a jealous streak.”
He looked around to see they were alone. He nodded at her.
“These earth gods,” she said. “It’s different, you know.”
“No. I don’t know. You go out with Ganesh. And Wotan isn’t jealous.”
“Yes, but Lord Ganesh is the son of Wotan’s oldest friend! Nothing untoward may happen. It would be dishonorable.”
“Yeah, but, you guys do that dancing stuff. Honestly, Raziel, don’t you think it’s a little over the top?”
“That’s his magic! Sometimes, as he said, it requires male and female, so I help.”
“I guess I don’t understand.”
“You dance with him now, right?”
“Of course not!”
“OH!” Raziel looked horrified. “No wonder he is sad!”
“He’s … sad?”
“It’s part of his being! His family! His magic! And you let Eototo dance for you?” She looked genuinely scandalized. “You didn’t join him in his dance, did you?
“You saw me! I sat on the fence getting fucking soaked through the whole thing!” But Raziel was now eyeing him suspiciously. “You were watching me the entire time.”
“But you are very, very, very sneaky,” she said, emphasizing the “very’s” with little pokes in his ribs.
“I did not dance with Eototo.”
“Well, see that you don’t! Or it won’t be only Grandma coming to kick your skinny ass!”
“Raziel!” But she was already flouncing off.
“What’s the matter?” Ofdensen turned. It was Ganesh.
“Raziel is being…. Uh. Raziel. Ish.”
“Is she poking you?” Ganesh grinned. “You might try poking back.”
“Uh. Ganesh? About Eototo….”
“I simply cannot have it, Sariel!” Ganesh exploded. He only had two hands out at the moment, but he suddenly seemed to be shaking about 200 accusing index fingers. “I have seen the kind of life my parents lead, and I have sworn to myself, I will not follow in their path! Perhaps you do not know our ways as I do, but there are few of our kind as honest and as brave as Lord Wotan! When he felt it was time, he chose to go his separate way from his ex-wife, the Lady Freyja. And, this has opened the path to his life with Lady Raziel. Most earth gods will not do that. They go on, like my parents, or that wretched girl in there, performing their magic together, but feigning as well a marriage, long past the time when there is mutual affection! This is not something I will brook! If you shall be with me, then I must firmly insist, you must keep yourself away from other earth gods! Or we shall truly take our separate paths!”
“OK. OK. All right. Ganesh? That’s fine. No other earth gods. If you want me to stay away from all other men, that’s fine. I’ll put Dethklok in chastity belts….
Ganesh suddenly looked puzzled. “What should I care of your band? They are humans. I mean, they are humans, aren’t they?”
“Um. Good question.” Ofdensen grabbed his pack of Marlboros. “Look! I’ll give up these! I like them more than my band sometimes.” He flipped the pack away. “Just. Cool it, a bit, OK?”
Ganesh frowned.
“I don’t think it’s probably too good for us.” He sighed. He stooped down and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the ground. “Look, I know I’m an angel, but you are gonna have to trust me. A bit.” He fumbled for a cigarette.
“Would you really give up the cigarettes?”
Ofdensen cringed, pack in his hand. “Um. I might. You know. Cut down?”
“’Tis not a good habit.” The wagging fingers again. “Lady Raziel is correct, your chakras have become disharmonious.”
“Do I even fucking have a chakra?” He sighed and regretfully put the pack away. “OK. How about, after Raziel’s misbegotten wedding, I’ll cut down? What about that?”
“That is a fine plan! I have nicotine patches to ease the transition!” Ganesh told him.
“Uh. Yeah.”
They drove in silence back to Granma’s house. All of Ofdensen’s attentions were woefully directed towards the pack of Marlboros in his jacket.
Wotan and Skwisgaar had returned from the hospital facility.
“They ams goings off in two directions,” Skwisgaar explained.
“We think they split up,” Wotan said. “Aaron seems to have been taken north, and your friend, south.” He looked to Raziel. “What say you, Lady?”
Raziel looked uncharacteristically thoughtful. “Keep with the original plan. You guys go south and hunt down Eototo. I’ll go with Pickles to find Aaron in the Dreamtime.”
“We could split the hunting party, Lady.”
“No. No. I want you all going after that guy. I had a feeling about him. A bad feeling. Whatever it is he’s been up to, I think we’re gonna need all of you.”
“We’ll go get the horses mounted up,” Wotan said.
Raziel glanced at Ofdensen. “You and your exes,” she smiled.
“Thanks, Raziel, because I didn’t already feel rotten enough.” He stopped. His elbow was caught in a tiny, vise-like grip.
“Be. Careful.”
Ofdensen pushed inside Grandma’s house. Pickles sat, alone dejected-looking, in the living room, glowering at the remote control.
“I t’ink dis t’ing needs new batteries,” he grumbled.
“Wotan wants to take off. Are you gonna be OK?”
Pickles glared at Charles. “I don’t feckin’ know. I don’t feckin’ know what I’m gonna do, ‘cause I don’t feckin’ know what the feck it is I do, and dey’re all treatin’ me like I know what I’m gonna do.”
“So, in other words, you’re fine.” The glare intensified an order of magnitude. Charles put up his hands. “It was a joke! Look, I’d come with you if I could. I hate hunting! Only I think I’d be even more useless with you guys.”
Pickles scowled some more. Finally he said, “So, you gonna tell da Gannish dood about Nat’an?”
Charles sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Tell him what about Nathan?”
“Yoo know, it never mattered much t’ me,” Pickles said, glaring now at the television, “but I t’ink it’s gonna matter t’ dat guy.”
“Tell him WHAT about Nathan?”
Pickles shrugged. “You know.”
“I KNOW WHAT?” Charles demanded.
Pickles’ expression had now turned from an angry glare to a hurt glare.
“OK,” Charles finally said. “Look. I picked you first for the band, right? And, we built it around what you wanted. You didn’t wanna get beer bottles in the head, so we moved you to drums and got other guys! We brought in Nathan for you! Because you didn’t wanna sing lead any more! And then…. And then, I would carry on with you. For years! When they were threatening to fire me! I kept going back to you! And…. It’s just never enough with you, is it? You’re all a bunch of fucking narcissists, and it’s never enough!” He threw up his hands and started to stalk off.
“We’re supposed t’ be narcissists, dood. We’re feckin’ rock stars.”
Charles stopped and turned back. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Dat’s OK dood. We’ll figure it out, OK?” He was standing in front of Charles now, grabbing his hands.
“Yeah. Look. I’m sorry. Just been getting it up the ass a lot today.”
“Not in a good way?”
“No. Definitely NOT in a good way.”
Pickles pressed his forehead to Charles’ and just stood for a moment.
“Goodbye kiss?” the redhead asked.
“Yeah. OK.” So they did.
Pickles was grinning. “Goodbye blow job?”
‘Uh, that’s a no,” said Charles, laughing and taking a step back.
“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’,” Pickles grinned.
“I’m not saying I’m not tempted. But I’m in enough trouble.”
“Dood! You can never be in enough trouble.”
“Yeah. Yeah, actually. I can.” And he clattered out Grandma’s door.
Raziel strode inside. “Are you ready to walk?” she asked.
Pickles collapsed back on the couch. “I can’t even make a feckin’ remote control work. An’ now I’m takin’ an angel t’ look fer a lost shaman?”
“I know. Isn’t it terrific?” She bounced down on the couch next to him. “What are we watching? Is there any Monty Python?”
“All I c’n get is some show in Spanish wit’ a dude wit’ an eyepatch.”
“Oh, I love that show! Only I hate that guy with the long hair.”
“Yeah, he’s a douche.”
****
NOTE: I had no idea anybody actually remembered, but that very last bit is a reference to one of the first fics I wrote, NovelaKlok, which, if you wanna waste a bit more time, is posted here and here.
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He stared at her. “Raziel. That is the stupidest fucking motto in the history of existence.”
Say what you want, Charles, but I say it's t-shirt material.
I dunno. I'd wear a shirt that said that, anyway.
“Goodbye kiss?” the redhead asked.
“Yeah. OK.” So they did.
Pickles was grinning. “Goodbye blow job?”
‘Uh, that’s a no,” said Charles, laughing and taking a step back.
“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’,” Pickles grinned.
Oh Pickles. X3
“All I c’n get is some show in Spanish wit’ a dude wit’ en eyepatch.”
“Oh, I love that show! Only I hate that guy with the long hair.”
“Yeah, he’s a douche.”
Oh, that brings back some memories...
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I dunno. I'd wear a shirt that said that, anyway.
Raziel might be getting a wee bit overenthusiastic with the sword. :D
Oh Pickles. X3
Pickles gets to do more Pickle-ish stuff in the next one, it was just getting long so I had to stop here. :D
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Well this is a massive ammount of happenings. I'm afraid you'll have to make do with my pathetic comments until you stop writing such interesting and involved stuff.
On a side note, if by freak chance you got me for H&G, you're exempt from the "no OC's" thing. Just putting that out there.
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Oh, I didn't sign up for H&G! I don't do art, and I always do such a rotten job of writing to prompts, I didn't wanna ruin somebody's Valentine's day!!! ^^;;;
But, thanks, that's a really nice thing to say! :D
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Though I think Charles will have to come back and show Nathan and Murderface how to finish off a row. :D
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Well, the "novel" is gonna be here, at least until the Russians crash Livejournal, or until I find I'm listed on some badfic site, in which case I'll have to panic and lock it down. :D
To give you a serious answer, well, I think there might be 4-6 people who are still reading this, and I imagine most people are following hoping my OCs will shut up long enough so their beloved Metalocalypse characters will do something cool. The people who read and comment are uniformly awesome, so it's fun to have that. I mean, it's a ton more fun to put this out and share than it would be to just store on my laptop.
And, just in terms of, could you shake out all the Metalocalypse bits? Seems like a big problem would be Charles is the central character, and he's NOT MINE. :D I suppose it could be "smoking angel who manages a quirky ballet troupe" or something. I dunno. Might be easier to start over. And then I'd have a fic that's all my own yay that NOBODY READS but me. :D