Sun King (Mythklok, Chapter 34)
Title: Sun King (Mythklok, Chapter 34)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Tsk! Kidnapping again!
Warnings: This Arc = Slash, AU, including an AU to the AU, OCs, tons of smoking, EXTRA SUPER BAD SWEARING, horrifying cuteness (at the end) - this one just got totally out of control folks
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Cross-posted to capslokdethklok.
OK, here beginneth the Santeria Arc of Mythklok. Featuring 30% MORE swearing, PLUS incredibly weird and improbable backstories. This one also represents the most fun I have ever had writing anything ever. So, if you guys don't like it, I'll probably go drink exactly 100 White Russians while getting all emo and listening to Patsy Cline. (Which is actually what I'm was gonna to do anyway....)
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU in which Charles is Sariel, an angel who fell to earth and subsequently got adopted by a death metal band. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal, tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.
So, recently we’ve learned that both Charles and Raziel were not what they supposed. Raziel is a daughter of The Goddess, though we’re still not sure who her father was (we all suspect he was a Seraph). Charles’s mom is a Seraph named Tzaphkiel, who was once head librarian, before the stupid angels burned down their library. We’re still not sure about his dad, though Tzaphkiel did tell Charles he was a god. Then at the end of the last chapter, somebody kidnapped Charles. Holy cliffhanger, Batman! (Yeah, that kinda stuff tends to happen in my fics.)
Just ONE LAST WARNING: in order to understand anything that happens here, you need to have read the Interstitial Clarence Sends His Regards. I expected that to be a one shot back when I wrote it, but as it turns out, it’s gonna be important.
Sun King
Somewhere in another universe....
“Are you Sariel, son of Tzaphkiel?”
“Suck my dick.”
Sariel sat on the floor of his cell. Well, he thought of it as a cell. It was actually a pretty nicely furnished suite. He had found a baseball and a glove in a dresser drawer and was sitting in the bedroom, his back against the terribly comfortable bed, and bouncing the ball repeatedly off the wall. He desperately hoped that the residence had poor soundproofing, and that thus he was annoying somebody. Although it seemed awfully plush here.
The servant or prison guard or whatever sighed and placed a tray of food on the table. They departed, closing the door behind them. This was the fourth or fifth such who had inquired as to his name.
He had given each and every one the same answer. Not a single one had obliged.
At some point, he thought, he would attempt an escape, but for now, he wanted to see who the fuck thought they could kidnap him and get away with it.
The door slammed open again. Sariel actually looked up. He hadn’t thought it possible to slam a door open.
This one wasn’t tall. But he looked pissed off.
He was chomping on a cigar, and wearing a pair of machetes strapped to his belt. Wonder what this one is compensating for, Sariel thought with a grin. Some kind of god, by the look of him. He was dressed completely in green and black.
“Are you Sariel?”
“Suck my dick.”
The new guy took the cigar out of his mouth and flicked ashes on the floor. “Not fucking likely.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Ogoun Sen Jacque, and I’m your fucking father.”
Sariel gawped. “Holy fuck.”
Meanwhile, Mordhaus, back home....
Ganesh stood at the door of Charles' office, staring down several rather bulky Security Klokateers.
"Nobody. Goes. In or out," he told them.
The disappearance of their leader had caused a moment of confusion among Security. Not that they were at all confounded by a party of beings suddenly disappearing into thin air - that was actually getting to be SOP around these parts. It was more a bit of uncertainty as to which of the masters to awaken at this juncture. As it turned out, masters Pickles and Murderface and Explosion had each arrived there, Independent of any notification, and each for their own separate reason, within minutes of the incident.
One or more of them must have in turn notified the master's pleasant stoner boyfriend, who was currently acting anything but pleasant. He was, in fact, a bit frightening.
He was, in fact, fucking terrifying.
Ganesh pulled the phone out of his pocket, not breaking eye contact with the cowering Security forces. "Yes, Lady Raziel, we're getting Skwisgaar. I am ATTEMPTING," and here he fixed Security with his sternest look, which was indeed quite stern, "to prevent any further contamination of the scene."
Toki rounded the corner. As the person who had showed up last at the office (having actually spent a moment dithering over whether to bother Charles over his latest tribulations and then subsequently spending some more moments engaging in speculations on whether or not there would be lamps to break) Toki had been dispatched to go pick through the inevitable tangle of groupies to fetch Skwisgaar. The guitarist had been persuaded to disentangle himself and thence don one or two items of clothing before venturing to the scene of the crime.
Skwisgaar exclaimed something in Swedish upon being ushered into the office. Curious, Ganesh ventured to stick his head inside.
"You cans comes insides, Gunnishes," Skwisgaar urged. Long as Ganesh had been a magic user, and he was quite adept at the practice, he had really no fucking idea what it was Skwisgaar was looking at when he did whatever the fuck it was he did. Ganesh saw auras, true, but he needed the living being who generated such a thing to be present in order to read it.
Ganesh had entered, followed by - unbidden but impossible to stop - the remaining four members of the band. He crouched down next to where Skwisgaar was studying the carpet.
"You ams remembers when Pickle ams goes to dat place and dats little girl ams follows hims home?"
Ganesh nodded, unconsciously rubbing his nose. The Toki in that universe had a hell of a right.
"So, dese guys ams from a place like dat."
Ganesh found himself standing. "Another universe? Gods. This could be very bad."
"It'sch not bad already?" Murderface grumbled.
"This is a violation of a very strict law!"
"Yeh, Charles would always freak when I went Walkin' dere," Pickles remembered.
"Most beings who can do this are immortals - gods and angels, not humans - they would be aware of the violation," Ganesh told them.
"I t'inks dese guys ams gods," Skwisgaar stated.
"You're gonna go do your weird ass thing and go get him, right?" Nathan urged Pickles.
Ganesh looked curiously at Pickles. "Shure, dood," is what the drummer said. He looked anything but sure.
Back in another universe....
They were sitting on a sunny balcony overlooking the sea. His dad had great taste, Sariel thought. The place was gorgeous - a tropical seaside palace.
His father offered him a cigar. Sariel decided, since it was an alternate universe cigar, that Ganesh couldn’t get upset. He lit up, coughing a bit as he inhaled.
“You don't like cigars, boy?” the god asked, whacking him on the back.
“Yeah, I… Look, what the fuck am I supposed to call you? Daddy seems a little awkward.”
“Call me Jacque! Everybody calls me Jacque.”
“Well, Jacque. I fucking love cigars. Just don’t smoke ‘em much any more.”
“You one o’ them health freaks?”
“Naw. But I had pneumonia. And it pisses off my boyfriend. He’s a doctor. So I don’t smoke much any more.”
“It pisses him off? Well, fuck him.”
“’I do. Often.”
Jacque kicked back and laughed. “What does he do?”
“He runs the earth’s eleventh largest economy.”
“Hrm. And what do you do.”
“I run the world’s sixth largest economy.”
“Ha! You like rum?” He was pouring a glass of something brown and delicious looking.
“I usually go for Scotch. Do they have that in this universe?”
“Of course! Single malt man, eh?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, well, none of that fancy stuff here.”
Sariel tried. It was not bad. In fact, it was quite good.
“I gotta question,” Jacque said. “If you're my boy, why are you so fucking pale?”
“Angel skin. Doesn’t tan.”
“But you’re only half angel, you know.”
“Yeah, but, I pretty much came out looking like an angel.”
“You don’t look like a fucking angel to me!”
“I’m Court Formed.”
“You’re what?”
“You don’t know about Forms?”
“Why should I know about fucking Forms?”
“Well, my mom is an angel.”
Jacque looked sad, and nodded. “That she was.”
“She’s not around here any more?”
Jacque shook his head.
“Oh. Sorry.” They looked out at the sea for a time.
“So, you got all sorts of fluttery fucking wings and all that?” Jacque asked after a while.
“Yeah, yeah, wait a minute.” What the hell, Sariel thought. Clamping the cigar tightly between his teeth, he removed his coat and shirt and True Formed for Jacque, bursting out silvery wings to stand before his father.
Jacque stared. It was not every day you got a silvery, cigar-smoking angel on your balcony. For a second - just a bare second - his heart became stuck, sideways, in his throat. But he soon shook it off.
“Holy fucking shit! You’re a fucking angel!”
Sariel rolled his eyes and gave the wings a twitch. “Told you.”
“Elegba,” Jacque shouted, “get your ass the fuck out here. Look! My son is a fucking angel.”
A tall, dusky-skinned guy, who looked even taller as he was wearing a top hat, strode out onto the balcony. “Holy fucking shit!” said Elegba. “He’s a fucking angel.”
Eloquent bunch, thought Sariel, grinning.
"Well, this one's definitely your fucking kid," Elegba observed. "He's a metal angel, Jacque!"
"Fucking A! Silver ain't usually one of my metals, but it looks good on you. So, Sariel? You got a fucking angel name too huh?”
“Yeah. I think the angels named me.”
“I don’t really care for angel names,” Jacque grumbled.
“Yeah, they’re for pussies,” Elegba agreed.
Sariel shrugged, not terribly offended. “I’ve used a number of names. I usually have a human name as well.”
“What kinda human name?”
“Just lately I’ve been going by Charles.”
“Charles!” Jacque pronounced it, more or less, “Sharl.” “Now, that’s a good name! That’s a man’s name!”
“Fine by me,” Sariel agreed.
“From now on, someone here asks you your name, you tell them you’re fucking Ogoun Charles.”
“Fucking Ogoun Charles is my name?”
“Fucking Ogoun Charles. Fuck yeah.” They clinked glasses.
“So, you guys gonna tell me why you fucking kidnapped me? I’m usually not terribly pleasant to people who fuck with me.”
Jacque gave a “that’s my boy” grin to Elegba and then said, “Well, we got a problem here. My universe is fucking collapsing!”
Sariel hopped up on to sit on the balustrade. He looked out over the grand vista, the crashing sea, the tropical coastline beyond. He let the onrushing breeze ruffle through his wings. He took a considered drag at his cigar. "Yeah," he said. “That’s a problem.”
“The big problem is your fucking uncle.”
“My….” Sariel searched his memories of all his relatives and pseudo-relatives. “Uh. You mean Phanuel?”
“Yeah, fucking Phanny.”
“What did you call him?”
“My Tzaphy’s twin Brother. Asshole. You know what he does, right?”
“He told us he cuts off dying universes?”
“Cuts off?” grumbled Elegba, pouring himself some rum.
“Fucking asshole,” snarled Jacque. “What he does, he lines up his fucking big ass angels, and makes sure no one escapes!”
“You’re kidding me,” Sariel told him.
“Geno-fucking-cide,” Elegba grumbled.
“There must be an explanation,” Sariel said. “Phanuel seems pretty grim, but he doesn’t seem like a sociopath.”
“Well, there’s some speculation, if any refugees got out, it would bring down Creation. But THAT’S BULLSHIT!” thundered Jacque.
“And you know this … how?” asked Sariel.
“Well, I don’t fucking know it,” Jacque grumbled. “But, I still know it.”
“Phanny is an ass,” muttered Elegba.
“Anyway, what I figure is, his Sister’s boy is in the universe, let him try to pull his shit now!”
“Uh, so, what if I escape?”
“You won’t do that.”
“I have wings. I could fly away now.”
“Yeah.” Jacque and Elegba exchanged a glance. “I’m not holding you here physically. You could actually just walk out the door. But, you wouldn’t get far. We’re Vodouisants. I dunno if you have that back at your place, but it’s big magic. Elegba laid down the spell, and it’s a pretty fucking good one. You can go wandering off, but you’ll just end up back here.”
“Yeah, I had something like that happen to me last time,” Sariel agreed.
“Last time?”
“You’re not the first person to figure out I’m missing from this universe.”
Jacque and Elegba now looked concerned. Good, thought Sariel. Maybe you guys are not the smartest fuckers in the universe.
“So, if the universe collapses, and your plan doesn’t work, I’ll just die here too,” Sariel asked.
“Yeah,” Jacque admitted. “We’re hoping that’s not the way. But, yeah.”
“Dad. You are kind of an asshole.”
“What were you fucking expecting? A Nobel fucking prize winner?”
Sariel shrugged and drank his rum.
In our universe, Mordhaus....
Ganesh knew he should be back at work, and not hanging out in Sariel's office.
He promised himself he would leave as soon as Lady Raziel made her way down to play babysitter. Despite Sariel's opinion to the contrary, she evidently had to be certain the care and feeding of Tzaphkiel, Nephthys, and several varieties of animals were sorted before she could venture down.
Pickles poked his head in the door. Ganesh waved for him to enter.
"Is there something you would talk to me about?"
"Yoo want us to go after him?" Pickles asked.
Ganesh nodded. "Of course."
"Dood." Pickles was quiet for a long minute. "It's really hard. It's fucked up shit. I dunno if I could find it, and I dunno if I could got us back." He looked up, not meeting Ganesh's eyes. "Could you git someone else? I dunno. A god or some shit?"
Ganesh leaned back, curling one unshod foot up on Sariel's office chair. "There is something I need you to understand, because I don't believe anyone has laid this out for you prior to this. I honestly don't know who else I would call upon. I simply do not know anyone - god or man - who is quite as adept as you at Walking between worlds."
Pickles swallowed hard. "I'm da best?"
Ganesh nodded. "You're it."
"Dat kinda sucks."
Ganesh couldn't help smiling.
In another universe....
Sariel went back to his room mostly because he needed to figure out what to do. They were no doubt aware back in his universe that he wasn’t around any more, but he wasn’t sure if they’d be able to figure out what the fuck had happened. He had told Ganesh the whole weird tale about the other Ganesh brining him here, but he’d told Ganesh a lot of things, and Ganesh was going to be a bit freaked out by his disappearance. Ganesh was smart, but maybe nobody was that smart.
Ganesh was….
Ganesh was here.
He jerked up on the bed.
Ganesh looked at him quizzically. “Are you Sariel?”
“What does everybody in this fucking universe wanna know the same thing?”
“But, are you Sariel?”
“Yes, Ganesh, I’m fucking Sariel!”
Ganesh spoke into a transmitter. “You might want to step back,” he said. “She is not terribly subtle.”
“She…?”
He didn’t have to wonder for long, as an entire wall of his room was ripped out.
It was Raziel, in her Seraph Form, grinning at them. “Hey, angel boy!” She held out a hand. “C’mon,” she said.
“You know, you didn’t have to…. Oh, forget it.” And he and Ganesh hopped into her hands and were gently placed on the ground below. Raziel Court Formed. “The car is this way!” she said.
“Car? You didn’t fly here?”
She laughed as they ran. “Ganesh fixed my legs, but we’re still working on the wings.”
“I should have brought my Ganesh’s wing drawings.”
"Wing drawings? Whoa! You're a freak!"
They jumped into a sports car and, Raziel at the wheel, roared off down the narrow road that ran along the seaside cliff outside Jacque’s mansion.
“You know,” Sariel commented after Raziel had taken a hairpin turn at a frighteningly rapid pace, “you guys don’t really have to-“ Then he ducked as he heard the report. He peered behind them. At least three cars full of armed men were in pursuit.
“ARE THEY SHOOTING AT US?” Sariel shouted over gunfire.
Another bullet sounded, shattering the windshield.
“Uh, that would be a yeah,” Raziel told him.
“Jacque told me I was free to leave!" Sariel shouted.
“Jacque told you,” Ganesh repeated dryly.
“Fucking asshole!" said Sariel.
“Oh, so you’ve gotten to know your Papa!” Raziel laughed.
Raziel was coming to another crazy hairpin turn. But instead of braking, she suddenly stepped on the accelerator, waving a middle finger and the pursuing gunmen.
“You’re not going to-“ Sariel began.
He ducked.
And then, not finding himself dead, looked back up.
They were driving through someone’s Dreamspace.
“Well played, my dear,” Ganesh smiled, giving Raziel a quick kiss.
"We are so Bonnie and Clyde!" she agreed.
“Wait, you two are together now?” asked Sariel.
“What did you expect?” Raziel laughed. “That I’d be stupid in this universe?”
“But you don’t like women!’ he told Ganesh.
“This one is quite persuasive,” Ganesh told him. “And I was a bit bored.”
“Are you bored now?” Raziel asked.
“Not in the least, Bonnie," he laughed.
“So, did you look up Pickles as well?” Sariel asked.
“Pickles? Yeah,” said Raziel.
Ganesh nodded. "Oh, my yes, he is a splendid fellow! We will see him when we get home. He is somehow able to acquire the BEST WEED!”
Sariel rolled his eyes. “Some things don’t change I guess.”
He was surprised at the sight of Ganesh’s residence. It had at least doubled in size since he had last visited.
“I thought this was smaller last time I was here?” he noted.
“Oh, we may have done a bit of remodeling,” Ganesh explained.
“We?”
Raziel grinned and jumped out.
“Doods!” Sariel had absolutely no problem identifying that voice. This Pickles was looking infinitely healthier than the last time Sariel had encountered him, semiconscious, in his seedy apartment.
“Do you remember me at all?” Sariel asked.
“Yer da angel dood.” Sariel nodded. “I t’ought yoo were jist in my head. But den a while later dese doods showed up. An’, she’s really an angel!”
“Uh, I’m really an angel too.” Sariel rolled his eyes and tugged off the coat and shirt once again.
“Whoa!” said Raziel.
“Wait, you’ve seen angels before," Sariel scoffed.
“Not like you!” Raziel said. She actually walked all the way around him, gawping. “You’re definitely not a Cherub. And you’re not a Seraph….”
“Oh, shit! You don’t have New Ones, do you?”
“What?”
Sariel stopped to think. Did this mean they didn’t have a Lucifer? He shook his head. Too fucking much to think about right now. "Can I ask why you guys rescued me?" He steeled himself, fearing this Raziel was planning on asking for a million billion dollar ransom.
"You helped me," Ganesh told him. "I simply thought it would be courteous to extend the favor."
"Really? No offense, but you're really not running some kind of bizarre Raziel-ian double-cross where you're trying to kidnap me from my kidnapper?"
"Hey, that's not a bad idea!" Raziel agreed.
"Raziel!" Ganesh scolded. "It's simply.... As you know, you don't exist in this universe. But, I believe you were supposed to be here."
"According to Jacque, angels killed me and my mom shortly after I was born here. Or, I mean, your me." Damn, this was confusing.
Ganesh nodded. "I think for once Jacque was telling the truth. Did he tell you how he subsequently met your Tzaphkiel?"
"I don't know. She must have come here, but I don't know why. I've asked her about him, but her memories are very dim for some reason."
"I think if I'd have fucked Jacque, I might wanna block it out," Raziel laughed.
"You don't suppose she was enchanted in some way?" Ganesh asked.
"It's really hard to do that to one of us, but I suppose so. I iust don't know why you'd do it."
"Eh. Does anything angels do ever make any sense?" Raziel asked.
"I guess not. There is something more you could do for me. I got a guy in my band who can track magic. He's probably looking for me."
"You have magical beings in your band?" Ganesh asked.
"Yeah. Skwisgaar, our lead guitarist, is Wotan's son, actually."
"Uncle Wotan? That is pleasantly convoluted."
"If you could set up something, like a beacon, that's easy to follow? To signal I'm here?"
"Certainly, but would he be able to cross worlds?"
"Yeah, actually. One of my other guys.... Well, it's the Pickles in my universe. He got in trouble last month by straying into an alternate universe."
Pickles was suddenly all ears. "Dood! I can go to udder yooniverses an' shit?"
"Well, I dunno if that's possible for you or not. I don't know how it works. But there is something you could help me with. I have another idea. It's ... probably a catastrophically stupid idea."
"Dood! Dose are da best kind!"
On the edge of a dying universe....
Phanuel the Grey sighed a very deep sigh.
"Jacque," he said. He wanted to say a lot more things. But as so many times in his existence, he held his tongue.
"Phanny!" Jacque called. Elegba, standing behind, simply doffed his hat.
"Do not. Call me. That," Phanuel enunciated.
"I suppose you hear I got your fucking nephew!" Jacque grinned.
Phanuel scowled. "What I have heard is this: you do not have Sariel."
"Elegba got him in a fucking spell. We fucking bound him here."
"You would sacrifice your only son?" Phanuel inquired, lifting a brow. "Positively biblical."
"Whatever you do, you're gonna have to go home and explain it all to Tzaphy."
"I rarely see my beloved Sister," Phanuel responded.
"Neither do I," Jacque said.
"You have no business - no business - mucking about in that universe."
"Look, who needs to know about this? I know the Creator took a fucking hike. We're both men, Phanny. Just Elegba, me, my Charles, and we'll go see my Tazphy."
"She is not, nor has she ever been, yours."
"What happened to you Phanny? Did She rip your fucking heart when She left?"
"She didn't leave. You know well what happened to Her. Besides, my desires are not relevant here."
"What is more relevant than desire?"
Phanuel's look could have burned stone.
Backstage, in another universe....
The William Murderface Experience. It still made Sariel grin to think the laziest and arguably least talented member of Dethklok was also the most successful in this universe.
Pickles had managed to use his connections (Sariel suspected they were more pharmaceutical based than music industry connections, but decided it was best to let that one go) to wrangle some backstage passes at a WME concert.
"Dood, I'm really in a band wit' dis douche back in yer reality?"
"You are in the biggest band the world has ever seen," Sariel assured him. "Wait!" He had just spotted a very familiar face sitting in the corner, stringing a guitar.
"Toki?" Sariel asked.
"Who wants to know?" Toki muttered, not even looking up.
"Do you play in this band?"
"Do I look like I play in this fucking band? I string the fucking guitars. Now, get lost. Murderface will fucking kill me if this ain't done by showtime."
Sariel stared for a moment. Toki had only light traces of a Norwegian accent. He was now a bit curious.
"Tell you what," Sariel told him. "If I string those guitars for you, will you talk to me?"
"What do you want, a blow job?" But the offer had at least gotten him to look up.
"I'm Charles. You know who this is?" Sariel asked, jabbing a finger at Pickles.
Toki didn't reply, but nodded.
"He's thinking of putting a new band together," Sariel explained.
Toki scowled. Sariel reached for the guitar, and Toki reluctantly gave it to him. Sariel took Toki's seat, and immediately began expertly stringing the guitar.
"So, did you come all the way from Norway just to roadie with this band?" Sariel asked, tightening a string.
Toki and Pickles were both staring. Sariel's hands seemed lightening quick. "Um," Toki started. "I came over with my mom 15 years ago. After my dad died."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. He was an abusive bastard."
There was something about the way Toki said it that made Sariel pause. "How did he die?" he asked, being careful not to look up from the guitar.
"He, uh, fell," Toki supplied.
"And your mom decided you needed to leave Norway?" He carefully tuned the instrument.
"Yeah. How did you even know...?"
"You got those guitarsch ready?"
Sariel hastily stood and shoved the guitar into Toki's surprised hands just before a very familiar triangle-haired musician rounded the corner.
"William Murderface?"
"Who wantsch to know?" grumbled Murderface, rudely grabbing the guitar back from Toki. "What are you, a narc?"
"I'm Charles. I think you might know Pickles. We wanted to talk to you about a potential business opportunity."
"Talk to my manager," he told them. He was fingering the guitar. "Hey, thisch is acschually in tune for once." He eyed Toki suspiciously.
"You really use all those guitars?" Sariel asked, pointing to the row of axes.
"I'm playing Appomattoxsch to tonight, my conschept album regarding the Schivil War. I usche five guitarsch for Gettyschburg alone!"
"That sounds ambitious."
"All my projectsch evinsche ambitschion!"
"And," Sariel asked slyly, "how is your record company dealing with the expense?"
Murderface suddenly rounded on Sariel, looming over the shorter man, his glare truly murderous.
"Who did you schay you were again?"
Sariel gulped. Oops.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Tsk! Kidnapping again!
Warnings: This Arc = Slash, AU, including an AU to the AU, OCs, tons of smoking, EXTRA SUPER BAD SWEARING, horrifying cuteness (at the end) - this one just got totally out of control folks
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Cross-posted to capslokdethklok.
OK, here beginneth the Santeria Arc of Mythklok. Featuring 30% MORE swearing, PLUS incredibly weird and improbable backstories. This one also represents the most fun I have ever had writing anything ever. So, if you guys don't like it, I'll probably go drink exactly 100 White Russians while getting all emo and listening to Patsy Cline. (Which is actually what I'm was gonna to do anyway....)
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU in which Charles is Sariel, an angel who fell to earth and subsequently got adopted by a death metal band. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal, tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.
So, recently we’ve learned that both Charles and Raziel were not what they supposed. Raziel is a daughter of The Goddess, though we’re still not sure who her father was (we all suspect he was a Seraph). Charles’s mom is a Seraph named Tzaphkiel, who was once head librarian, before the stupid angels burned down their library. We’re still not sure about his dad, though Tzaphkiel did tell Charles he was a god. Then at the end of the last chapter, somebody kidnapped Charles. Holy cliffhanger, Batman! (Yeah, that kinda stuff tends to happen in my fics.)
Just ONE LAST WARNING: in order to understand anything that happens here, you need to have read the Interstitial Clarence Sends His Regards. I expected that to be a one shot back when I wrote it, but as it turns out, it’s gonna be important.
Sun King
Somewhere in another universe....
“Are you Sariel, son of Tzaphkiel?”
“Suck my dick.”
Sariel sat on the floor of his cell. Well, he thought of it as a cell. It was actually a pretty nicely furnished suite. He had found a baseball and a glove in a dresser drawer and was sitting in the bedroom, his back against the terribly comfortable bed, and bouncing the ball repeatedly off the wall. He desperately hoped that the residence had poor soundproofing, and that thus he was annoying somebody. Although it seemed awfully plush here.
The servant or prison guard or whatever sighed and placed a tray of food on the table. They departed, closing the door behind them. This was the fourth or fifth such who had inquired as to his name.
He had given each and every one the same answer. Not a single one had obliged.
At some point, he thought, he would attempt an escape, but for now, he wanted to see who the fuck thought they could kidnap him and get away with it.
The door slammed open again. Sariel actually looked up. He hadn’t thought it possible to slam a door open.
This one wasn’t tall. But he looked pissed off.
He was chomping on a cigar, and wearing a pair of machetes strapped to his belt. Wonder what this one is compensating for, Sariel thought with a grin. Some kind of god, by the look of him. He was dressed completely in green and black.
“Are you Sariel?”
“Suck my dick.”
The new guy took the cigar out of his mouth and flicked ashes on the floor. “Not fucking likely.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Ogoun Sen Jacque, and I’m your fucking father.”
Sariel gawped. “Holy fuck.”
Meanwhile, Mordhaus, back home....
Ganesh stood at the door of Charles' office, staring down several rather bulky Security Klokateers.
"Nobody. Goes. In or out," he told them.
The disappearance of their leader had caused a moment of confusion among Security. Not that they were at all confounded by a party of beings suddenly disappearing into thin air - that was actually getting to be SOP around these parts. It was more a bit of uncertainty as to which of the masters to awaken at this juncture. As it turned out, masters Pickles and Murderface and Explosion had each arrived there, Independent of any notification, and each for their own separate reason, within minutes of the incident.
One or more of them must have in turn notified the master's pleasant stoner boyfriend, who was currently acting anything but pleasant. He was, in fact, a bit frightening.
He was, in fact, fucking terrifying.
Ganesh pulled the phone out of his pocket, not breaking eye contact with the cowering Security forces. "Yes, Lady Raziel, we're getting Skwisgaar. I am ATTEMPTING," and here he fixed Security with his sternest look, which was indeed quite stern, "to prevent any further contamination of the scene."
Toki rounded the corner. As the person who had showed up last at the office (having actually spent a moment dithering over whether to bother Charles over his latest tribulations and then subsequently spending some more moments engaging in speculations on whether or not there would be lamps to break) Toki had been dispatched to go pick through the inevitable tangle of groupies to fetch Skwisgaar. The guitarist had been persuaded to disentangle himself and thence don one or two items of clothing before venturing to the scene of the crime.
Skwisgaar exclaimed something in Swedish upon being ushered into the office. Curious, Ganesh ventured to stick his head inside.
"You cans comes insides, Gunnishes," Skwisgaar urged. Long as Ganesh had been a magic user, and he was quite adept at the practice, he had really no fucking idea what it was Skwisgaar was looking at when he did whatever the fuck it was he did. Ganesh saw auras, true, but he needed the living being who generated such a thing to be present in order to read it.
Ganesh had entered, followed by - unbidden but impossible to stop - the remaining four members of the band. He crouched down next to where Skwisgaar was studying the carpet.
"You ams remembers when Pickle ams goes to dat place and dats little girl ams follows hims home?"
Ganesh nodded, unconsciously rubbing his nose. The Toki in that universe had a hell of a right.
"So, dese guys ams from a place like dat."
Ganesh found himself standing. "Another universe? Gods. This could be very bad."
"It'sch not bad already?" Murderface grumbled.
"This is a violation of a very strict law!"
"Yeh, Charles would always freak when I went Walkin' dere," Pickles remembered.
"Most beings who can do this are immortals - gods and angels, not humans - they would be aware of the violation," Ganesh told them.
"I t'inks dese guys ams gods," Skwisgaar stated.
"You're gonna go do your weird ass thing and go get him, right?" Nathan urged Pickles.
Ganesh looked curiously at Pickles. "Shure, dood," is what the drummer said. He looked anything but sure.
Back in another universe....
They were sitting on a sunny balcony overlooking the sea. His dad had great taste, Sariel thought. The place was gorgeous - a tropical seaside palace.
His father offered him a cigar. Sariel decided, since it was an alternate universe cigar, that Ganesh couldn’t get upset. He lit up, coughing a bit as he inhaled.
“You don't like cigars, boy?” the god asked, whacking him on the back.
“Yeah, I… Look, what the fuck am I supposed to call you? Daddy seems a little awkward.”
“Call me Jacque! Everybody calls me Jacque.”
“Well, Jacque. I fucking love cigars. Just don’t smoke ‘em much any more.”
“You one o’ them health freaks?”
“Naw. But I had pneumonia. And it pisses off my boyfriend. He’s a doctor. So I don’t smoke much any more.”
“It pisses him off? Well, fuck him.”
“’I do. Often.”
Jacque kicked back and laughed. “What does he do?”
“He runs the earth’s eleventh largest economy.”
“Hrm. And what do you do.”
“I run the world’s sixth largest economy.”
“Ha! You like rum?” He was pouring a glass of something brown and delicious looking.
“I usually go for Scotch. Do they have that in this universe?”
“Of course! Single malt man, eh?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, well, none of that fancy stuff here.”
Sariel tried. It was not bad. In fact, it was quite good.
“I gotta question,” Jacque said. “If you're my boy, why are you so fucking pale?”
“Angel skin. Doesn’t tan.”
“But you’re only half angel, you know.”
“Yeah, but, I pretty much came out looking like an angel.”
“You don’t look like a fucking angel to me!”
“I’m Court Formed.”
“You’re what?”
“You don’t know about Forms?”
“Why should I know about fucking Forms?”
“Well, my mom is an angel.”
Jacque looked sad, and nodded. “That she was.”
“She’s not around here any more?”
Jacque shook his head.
“Oh. Sorry.” They looked out at the sea for a time.
“So, you got all sorts of fluttery fucking wings and all that?” Jacque asked after a while.
“Yeah, yeah, wait a minute.” What the hell, Sariel thought. Clamping the cigar tightly between his teeth, he removed his coat and shirt and True Formed for Jacque, bursting out silvery wings to stand before his father.
Jacque stared. It was not every day you got a silvery, cigar-smoking angel on your balcony. For a second - just a bare second - his heart became stuck, sideways, in his throat. But he soon shook it off.
“Holy fucking shit! You’re a fucking angel!”
Sariel rolled his eyes and gave the wings a twitch. “Told you.”
“Elegba,” Jacque shouted, “get your ass the fuck out here. Look! My son is a fucking angel.”
A tall, dusky-skinned guy, who looked even taller as he was wearing a top hat, strode out onto the balcony. “Holy fucking shit!” said Elegba. “He’s a fucking angel.”
Eloquent bunch, thought Sariel, grinning.
"Well, this one's definitely your fucking kid," Elegba observed. "He's a metal angel, Jacque!"
"Fucking A! Silver ain't usually one of my metals, but it looks good on you. So, Sariel? You got a fucking angel name too huh?”
“Yeah. I think the angels named me.”
“I don’t really care for angel names,” Jacque grumbled.
“Yeah, they’re for pussies,” Elegba agreed.
Sariel shrugged, not terribly offended. “I’ve used a number of names. I usually have a human name as well.”
“What kinda human name?”
“Just lately I’ve been going by Charles.”
“Charles!” Jacque pronounced it, more or less, “Sharl.” “Now, that’s a good name! That’s a man’s name!”
“Fine by me,” Sariel agreed.
“From now on, someone here asks you your name, you tell them you’re fucking Ogoun Charles.”
“Fucking Ogoun Charles is my name?”
“Fucking Ogoun Charles. Fuck yeah.” They clinked glasses.
“So, you guys gonna tell me why you fucking kidnapped me? I’m usually not terribly pleasant to people who fuck with me.”
Jacque gave a “that’s my boy” grin to Elegba and then said, “Well, we got a problem here. My universe is fucking collapsing!”
Sariel hopped up on to sit on the balustrade. He looked out over the grand vista, the crashing sea, the tropical coastline beyond. He let the onrushing breeze ruffle through his wings. He took a considered drag at his cigar. "Yeah," he said. “That’s a problem.”
“The big problem is your fucking uncle.”
“My….” Sariel searched his memories of all his relatives and pseudo-relatives. “Uh. You mean Phanuel?”
“Yeah, fucking Phanny.”
“What did you call him?”
“My Tzaphy’s twin Brother. Asshole. You know what he does, right?”
“He told us he cuts off dying universes?”
“Cuts off?” grumbled Elegba, pouring himself some rum.
“Fucking asshole,” snarled Jacque. “What he does, he lines up his fucking big ass angels, and makes sure no one escapes!”
“You’re kidding me,” Sariel told him.
“Geno-fucking-cide,” Elegba grumbled.
“There must be an explanation,” Sariel said. “Phanuel seems pretty grim, but he doesn’t seem like a sociopath.”
“Well, there’s some speculation, if any refugees got out, it would bring down Creation. But THAT’S BULLSHIT!” thundered Jacque.
“And you know this … how?” asked Sariel.
“Well, I don’t fucking know it,” Jacque grumbled. “But, I still know it.”
“Phanny is an ass,” muttered Elegba.
“Anyway, what I figure is, his Sister’s boy is in the universe, let him try to pull his shit now!”
“Uh, so, what if I escape?”
“You won’t do that.”
“I have wings. I could fly away now.”
“Yeah.” Jacque and Elegba exchanged a glance. “I’m not holding you here physically. You could actually just walk out the door. But, you wouldn’t get far. We’re Vodouisants. I dunno if you have that back at your place, but it’s big magic. Elegba laid down the spell, and it’s a pretty fucking good one. You can go wandering off, but you’ll just end up back here.”
“Yeah, I had something like that happen to me last time,” Sariel agreed.
“Last time?”
“You’re not the first person to figure out I’m missing from this universe.”
Jacque and Elegba now looked concerned. Good, thought Sariel. Maybe you guys are not the smartest fuckers in the universe.
“So, if the universe collapses, and your plan doesn’t work, I’ll just die here too,” Sariel asked.
“Yeah,” Jacque admitted. “We’re hoping that’s not the way. But, yeah.”
“Dad. You are kind of an asshole.”
“What were you fucking expecting? A Nobel fucking prize winner?”
Sariel shrugged and drank his rum.
In our universe, Mordhaus....
Ganesh knew he should be back at work, and not hanging out in Sariel's office.
He promised himself he would leave as soon as Lady Raziel made her way down to play babysitter. Despite Sariel's opinion to the contrary, she evidently had to be certain the care and feeding of Tzaphkiel, Nephthys, and several varieties of animals were sorted before she could venture down.
Pickles poked his head in the door. Ganesh waved for him to enter.
"Is there something you would talk to me about?"
"Yoo want us to go after him?" Pickles asked.
Ganesh nodded. "Of course."
"Dood." Pickles was quiet for a long minute. "It's really hard. It's fucked up shit. I dunno if I could find it, and I dunno if I could got us back." He looked up, not meeting Ganesh's eyes. "Could you git someone else? I dunno. A god or some shit?"
Ganesh leaned back, curling one unshod foot up on Sariel's office chair. "There is something I need you to understand, because I don't believe anyone has laid this out for you prior to this. I honestly don't know who else I would call upon. I simply do not know anyone - god or man - who is quite as adept as you at Walking between worlds."
Pickles swallowed hard. "I'm da best?"
Ganesh nodded. "You're it."
"Dat kinda sucks."
Ganesh couldn't help smiling.
In another universe....
Sariel went back to his room mostly because he needed to figure out what to do. They were no doubt aware back in his universe that he wasn’t around any more, but he wasn’t sure if they’d be able to figure out what the fuck had happened. He had told Ganesh the whole weird tale about the other Ganesh brining him here, but he’d told Ganesh a lot of things, and Ganesh was going to be a bit freaked out by his disappearance. Ganesh was smart, but maybe nobody was that smart.
Ganesh was….
Ganesh was here.
He jerked up on the bed.
Ganesh looked at him quizzically. “Are you Sariel?”
“What does everybody in this fucking universe wanna know the same thing?”
“But, are you Sariel?”
“Yes, Ganesh, I’m fucking Sariel!”
Ganesh spoke into a transmitter. “You might want to step back,” he said. “She is not terribly subtle.”
“She…?”
He didn’t have to wonder for long, as an entire wall of his room was ripped out.
It was Raziel, in her Seraph Form, grinning at them. “Hey, angel boy!” She held out a hand. “C’mon,” she said.
“You know, you didn’t have to…. Oh, forget it.” And he and Ganesh hopped into her hands and were gently placed on the ground below. Raziel Court Formed. “The car is this way!” she said.
“Car? You didn’t fly here?”
She laughed as they ran. “Ganesh fixed my legs, but we’re still working on the wings.”
“I should have brought my Ganesh’s wing drawings.”
"Wing drawings? Whoa! You're a freak!"
They jumped into a sports car and, Raziel at the wheel, roared off down the narrow road that ran along the seaside cliff outside Jacque’s mansion.
“You know,” Sariel commented after Raziel had taken a hairpin turn at a frighteningly rapid pace, “you guys don’t really have to-“ Then he ducked as he heard the report. He peered behind them. At least three cars full of armed men were in pursuit.
“ARE THEY SHOOTING AT US?” Sariel shouted over gunfire.
Another bullet sounded, shattering the windshield.
“Uh, that would be a yeah,” Raziel told him.
“Jacque told me I was free to leave!" Sariel shouted.
“Jacque told you,” Ganesh repeated dryly.
“Fucking asshole!" said Sariel.
“Oh, so you’ve gotten to know your Papa!” Raziel laughed.
Raziel was coming to another crazy hairpin turn. But instead of braking, she suddenly stepped on the accelerator, waving a middle finger and the pursuing gunmen.
“You’re not going to-“ Sariel began.
He ducked.
And then, not finding himself dead, looked back up.
They were driving through someone’s Dreamspace.
“Well played, my dear,” Ganesh smiled, giving Raziel a quick kiss.
"We are so Bonnie and Clyde!" she agreed.
“Wait, you two are together now?” asked Sariel.
“What did you expect?” Raziel laughed. “That I’d be stupid in this universe?”
“But you don’t like women!’ he told Ganesh.
“This one is quite persuasive,” Ganesh told him. “And I was a bit bored.”
“Are you bored now?” Raziel asked.
“Not in the least, Bonnie," he laughed.
“So, did you look up Pickles as well?” Sariel asked.
“Pickles? Yeah,” said Raziel.
Ganesh nodded. "Oh, my yes, he is a splendid fellow! We will see him when we get home. He is somehow able to acquire the BEST WEED!”
Sariel rolled his eyes. “Some things don’t change I guess.”
He was surprised at the sight of Ganesh’s residence. It had at least doubled in size since he had last visited.
“I thought this was smaller last time I was here?” he noted.
“Oh, we may have done a bit of remodeling,” Ganesh explained.
“We?”
Raziel grinned and jumped out.
“Doods!” Sariel had absolutely no problem identifying that voice. This Pickles was looking infinitely healthier than the last time Sariel had encountered him, semiconscious, in his seedy apartment.
“Do you remember me at all?” Sariel asked.
“Yer da angel dood.” Sariel nodded. “I t’ought yoo were jist in my head. But den a while later dese doods showed up. An’, she’s really an angel!”
“Uh, I’m really an angel too.” Sariel rolled his eyes and tugged off the coat and shirt once again.
“Whoa!” said Raziel.
“Wait, you’ve seen angels before," Sariel scoffed.
“Not like you!” Raziel said. She actually walked all the way around him, gawping. “You’re definitely not a Cherub. And you’re not a Seraph….”
“Oh, shit! You don’t have New Ones, do you?”
“What?”
Sariel stopped to think. Did this mean they didn’t have a Lucifer? He shook his head. Too fucking much to think about right now. "Can I ask why you guys rescued me?" He steeled himself, fearing this Raziel was planning on asking for a million billion dollar ransom.
"You helped me," Ganesh told him. "I simply thought it would be courteous to extend the favor."
"Really? No offense, but you're really not running some kind of bizarre Raziel-ian double-cross where you're trying to kidnap me from my kidnapper?"
"Hey, that's not a bad idea!" Raziel agreed.
"Raziel!" Ganesh scolded. "It's simply.... As you know, you don't exist in this universe. But, I believe you were supposed to be here."
"According to Jacque, angels killed me and my mom shortly after I was born here. Or, I mean, your me." Damn, this was confusing.
Ganesh nodded. "I think for once Jacque was telling the truth. Did he tell you how he subsequently met your Tzaphkiel?"
"I don't know. She must have come here, but I don't know why. I've asked her about him, but her memories are very dim for some reason."
"I think if I'd have fucked Jacque, I might wanna block it out," Raziel laughed.
"You don't suppose she was enchanted in some way?" Ganesh asked.
"It's really hard to do that to one of us, but I suppose so. I iust don't know why you'd do it."
"Eh. Does anything angels do ever make any sense?" Raziel asked.
"I guess not. There is something more you could do for me. I got a guy in my band who can track magic. He's probably looking for me."
"You have magical beings in your band?" Ganesh asked.
"Yeah. Skwisgaar, our lead guitarist, is Wotan's son, actually."
"Uncle Wotan? That is pleasantly convoluted."
"If you could set up something, like a beacon, that's easy to follow? To signal I'm here?"
"Certainly, but would he be able to cross worlds?"
"Yeah, actually. One of my other guys.... Well, it's the Pickles in my universe. He got in trouble last month by straying into an alternate universe."
Pickles was suddenly all ears. "Dood! I can go to udder yooniverses an' shit?"
"Well, I dunno if that's possible for you or not. I don't know how it works. But there is something you could help me with. I have another idea. It's ... probably a catastrophically stupid idea."
"Dood! Dose are da best kind!"
On the edge of a dying universe....
Phanuel the Grey sighed a very deep sigh.
"Jacque," he said. He wanted to say a lot more things. But as so many times in his existence, he held his tongue.
"Phanny!" Jacque called. Elegba, standing behind, simply doffed his hat.
"Do not. Call me. That," Phanuel enunciated.
"I suppose you hear I got your fucking nephew!" Jacque grinned.
Phanuel scowled. "What I have heard is this: you do not have Sariel."
"Elegba got him in a fucking spell. We fucking bound him here."
"You would sacrifice your only son?" Phanuel inquired, lifting a brow. "Positively biblical."
"Whatever you do, you're gonna have to go home and explain it all to Tzaphy."
"I rarely see my beloved Sister," Phanuel responded.
"Neither do I," Jacque said.
"You have no business - no business - mucking about in that universe."
"Look, who needs to know about this? I know the Creator took a fucking hike. We're both men, Phanny. Just Elegba, me, my Charles, and we'll go see my Tazphy."
"She is not, nor has she ever been, yours."
"What happened to you Phanny? Did She rip your fucking heart when She left?"
"She didn't leave. You know well what happened to Her. Besides, my desires are not relevant here."
"What is more relevant than desire?"
Phanuel's look could have burned stone.
Backstage, in another universe....
The William Murderface Experience. It still made Sariel grin to think the laziest and arguably least talented member of Dethklok was also the most successful in this universe.
Pickles had managed to use his connections (Sariel suspected they were more pharmaceutical based than music industry connections, but decided it was best to let that one go) to wrangle some backstage passes at a WME concert.
"Dood, I'm really in a band wit' dis douche back in yer reality?"
"You are in the biggest band the world has ever seen," Sariel assured him. "Wait!" He had just spotted a very familiar face sitting in the corner, stringing a guitar.
"Toki?" Sariel asked.
"Who wants to know?" Toki muttered, not even looking up.
"Do you play in this band?"
"Do I look like I play in this fucking band? I string the fucking guitars. Now, get lost. Murderface will fucking kill me if this ain't done by showtime."
Sariel stared for a moment. Toki had only light traces of a Norwegian accent. He was now a bit curious.
"Tell you what," Sariel told him. "If I string those guitars for you, will you talk to me?"
"What do you want, a blow job?" But the offer had at least gotten him to look up.
"I'm Charles. You know who this is?" Sariel asked, jabbing a finger at Pickles.
Toki didn't reply, but nodded.
"He's thinking of putting a new band together," Sariel explained.
Toki scowled. Sariel reached for the guitar, and Toki reluctantly gave it to him. Sariel took Toki's seat, and immediately began expertly stringing the guitar.
"So, did you come all the way from Norway just to roadie with this band?" Sariel asked, tightening a string.
Toki and Pickles were both staring. Sariel's hands seemed lightening quick. "Um," Toki started. "I came over with my mom 15 years ago. After my dad died."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. He was an abusive bastard."
There was something about the way Toki said it that made Sariel pause. "How did he die?" he asked, being careful not to look up from the guitar.
"He, uh, fell," Toki supplied.
"And your mom decided you needed to leave Norway?" He carefully tuned the instrument.
"Yeah. How did you even know...?"
"You got those guitarsch ready?"
Sariel hastily stood and shoved the guitar into Toki's surprised hands just before a very familiar triangle-haired musician rounded the corner.
"William Murderface?"
"Who wantsch to know?" grumbled Murderface, rudely grabbing the guitar back from Toki. "What are you, a narc?"
"I'm Charles. I think you might know Pickles. We wanted to talk to you about a potential business opportunity."
"Talk to my manager," he told them. He was fingering the guitar. "Hey, thisch is acschually in tune for once." He eyed Toki suspiciously.
"You really use all those guitars?" Sariel asked, pointing to the row of axes.
"I'm playing Appomattoxsch to tonight, my conschept album regarding the Schivil War. I usche five guitarsch for Gettyschburg alone!"
"That sounds ambitious."
"All my projectsch evinsche ambitschion!"
"And," Sariel asked slyly, "how is your record company dealing with the expense?"
Murderface suddenly rounded on Sariel, looming over the shorter man, his glare truly murderous.
"Who did you schay you were again?"
Sariel gulped. Oops.