Play Date (Mythklok Interstitial)
Title: Play Date (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Bandsitting at Mordhaus.
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing
Notes: This was a fragment that had been sitting around a couple days, and Z and Tam kinda gave me an idea to finish it off. Back home tonight (yay!), so we'll get back to the main story in a couple days.
"CAN'T YOU SEE I'M READING HELLO! MAGAZINE?"
"But Charles left you with us while he was on vacation in case we have a A CRISIS!" Nathan boomed.
Raziel swing her high-heeled feet off Charles' desk and leaned forward, magazine in hand. "Crisis? What if I don't know every fact about Kate' new outfit? It's Alexander McQueen!"
"Who the fuck is Kate?"
"Kate Middleton! What other Kates could there possibly be?"
"Katie Holmesch," suggested Murderface.
"Well, yes, other than her," allowed Raziel.
"Dood, Kate Moss?" asked Pickles.
"OK, her too."
"Ands what abouts Cate Blanchetts?" strummed Skwisgaar.
"All right, all right," said Raziel to the eighty percent of Dethklok at now occupying the office. "Besides all those other Kates, and potentially Kate Hepburn, that's the only Kate!"
"Bidchure?" said Abby. The little raven-haired girl had been quietly drawing at Raziel's feet. She now stood in front of William Murderface, tiny blue eyes looking up expectantly as she held out a piece of paper to him.
"LOOK!" said the approving bass guitarist. "She'sch done a depictshion of the battle of Bull Run! That'sch a very accurate plaschement of the cannonade, young lady."
“Wait, THAT'S where they placed the cannonade?” asked Raziel, snatching the paper.
“It's hischtorically accurate!” Murderface attested.
“Hmpf, what a buncha numbskulls human generals were," sniffed Raziel, handing back the drawing.
"BUT WHAT ABOUT-?" Nathan began.
"Wait!" Raziel broke in. "Have you guys seen Liam?"
"What ams a Liam?" inquired Skwisgaar.
"My other kid," grumbled Raziel.
"Pffft," rejoindered Skwisgaar, to Raziel's dark look.
"Raz dood, I t'ink he was playin' wit Toki," said Pickles.
"They were doing models or some gay shit. THEY'VE BEEN QUIET!" insisted Nathan.
"Quiet? Quiet is bad," said Raziel. "Where?"
"QUIET IS BAD?" asked Nathan.
"Quiet is bad!" Raziel repeated. "Where?"
"Uhhhhh," said various band members, now variously shuffling steel-toed boots and looking elsewhere.
"Pffft," sighed Skwisgaar. "Ams Toki's rooms."
With a look of fiery determination, Raziel strode off towards that wing of the Haus. Murderface grabbed her daughter, and the rest of the band, having little else to do, followed.
The corridor immediately outside the room echoed with the sound of a grand battle. "ZZZZZZZOOOOOM!" "WHOOOOOOOOSH!" "RAT-A-TAT-TAT!"
Raziel threw open the door. She crossed her arms and scowled. "What is going on in here?"
"From the modelsch of the planesch, it looksch like a hischtorically accurate reenactment of a World War II dogfight!" Murderface helpfully supplied.
"Liam!" Raziel said sternly.
Two tiny sets of blue eyes gazed up at her.
"Liam Odinsson, have you been using magic?" Raziel demanded.
"Airpwane!" explained her blond, curly-haired son, waving his model of a red Fokker triplane.
"Do you want me to tell your father?" Raziel asked Liam. She felt a tug on her skirt. There weren't a whole lot of beings tinier than Raziel, but this boy qualified. The little boy, with long light brown hair that stuck in his eyes, stood below her now, holding up two bony little arms.
Raziel sighed. And then bent over and scooped him up. She pushed the hair back out of his face. He proudly held up his Sopwoth Camel model.
"All right. All right. Liam?" she finally said.
"Mama?"
"You can play airplane for ONE MORE HOUR. But that is absolutely the end of it. And then I want you to put him back and get cleaned up for lunchtime. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD, young man?"
"Yeth, Mommy!" lisped Liam.
Raziel deposited the small child back on the ground, and the two boys recommenced their aerial battle. Raziel left the room, heaving a sigh.
"My lady friend and I are going to go watsch Ken Burnsch," Murderface, still holding a now frowning Abby, announced.
"All right," Raziel told them, "Just, no magic, you," she warned Abby.
The girl nodded, her tiny dark topknot wagging as she moved her head. "No maddick!" she repeated, with a bit more sternness than her mother. And with that the Civil War aficionados were off.
"But, where Ams Tokis gone?" Skwisgaar asked.
"Uh," said Raziel.
"Astronawt lessons, dood," Pickles told him, clapping him on the back as the two men walked off.
"Oh, ams he backs to that?" Skwisgaar asked as he strummed down the hall.
"WHAT ABOUT OUR CRISIS?" Nathan demanded.
"Well, I guess I'm not going to get back to Kate Middleton for a while, whaddya got?" asked Raziel.
"I CAN'T REMEMBER OUR CRISIS! THAT'S MY CRISIS! Because, I know I had one, and it was pretty good."
"Huh," said Raziel. "Well, not remembering a crisis, that's a pretty good crisis, isn't it? I mean, what if it was important?"
"Of course it was important! IT WAS A CRISIS!"
"So, now you've remembered a crisis!"
"But, what if that's not the same crisis, Raz dude?"
"It still counts! So, crisis solved."
"Huh. Well, uh, I guess that makes sense. Thanks, Raz."
"That's what I'm here for," the little angel told him.
"So, when is Charles getting back again?"
"I think tomorrow."
"Maybe we should think up a crisis for him too, huh? So he doesn't feel left out."
"That's a very good idea! Maybe we could let the alpacas all out of their pen and let them annoy the yard wolves!"
"That would be AWESOME," Naan told her as they walked off. "Alpacas are PRETTY FUCKING ANNOYING!"
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