Voodoo Child (Mythklok, Chapter 48)
Title: Voodoo Child (Mythklok, Chapter 48)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Charles and Ganesh spend a quiet weekend away whilst Raz whips Dethklok into the greatest super sentai fighting force known to man!
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing, grave breaches of fashion sense
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. 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.
Last time: Dethklok became the newest Suoer Sentai team. And, er, they sort of suck. And Papa Jacque has been pressuring Sariel to undergo his Santero initiation.
Ogoun Charles by zsomeone
On an actually not terribly tropical island somewhere....
"So, this is the place?" Ganesh inquired as lightning struck, thunder crashed, and the horses whinnied for about the sixth or seventh time.
There were horses whinnying, parenthetically, because Ganesh and Sariel were currently being borne to their destination in a horse-drawn carriage. Up a narrow, winding mountain track. Through a woods full of bare trees. In a thunderstorm.
"It is unfortunate that we could not have Walked here," Ganesh grumbled.
"It's too magicked up to Walk. You know that. Besides, isn't this cool?" Sariel gushed, staring out the window in wonder. He heard Ganesh snort and asked, "What?"
"Sariel. Not that I don't appreciate mountain, er, scenery. It's simply that this was presented, was it not, as a tropical island getaway?"
"So there's a slight change in plans! I know you packed enough clothing for a Himalayan expedition."
"Perhaps so."
"This guy is supposed to be your buddy Elegba's friend, right?"
“Orula? Yes. Although we have not yet met.” Ganesh frowned. “I am hoping, perhaps selfishly, that the initiation ceremony will not prove too time consuming for you. The weather is not the best here.”
“So? Just stay inside, maybe read a trashy paperback.”
“I do not read trashy paperbacks,” Ganesh sniffed.
“You waste enough time watching that crappy telenovela!”
“Corazon de Azul is not trashy! It is the world's most beloved televised drama.”
But discussion of literary merit was abruptly brought to a halt, along with their carriage. Sariel seized the door handle and jumped out. “WHOA!” he said.
Ganesh followed more cautiously. Their carriage was now in the courtyard of what looked for all the world like an authentic Central European medieval castle. Even though, Ganesh reckoned, the Dethcopter had put them down on an island somewhere in the Caribbean region.
“Hmpf,” Ganesh grumbled. “I certainly hope the plumbing has been updated! I am not spending my weekend experiencing cold showers.”
“I second that,” Sariel grinned, giving Ganesh a rather rude pat on the ass. Ganesh smiled quite despite himself.
They suddenly spotted a figure tottering out to greet them. He had a strange, ungainly walk. When he drew closer, it was apparent that this was not due to some physical defect but rather because he was wearing 12 inch platform heels along with his fuschia tiger-striped jumpsuit.
“Oy there! Greetin's, and welcome to our dahk and gloomy cahstle. I am Chango!” the figure announced, to a terribly bright lighting flash followed by a boom of thunder and the inevitable neighing of horses. “Like that? I do thunder and lightning. It’s a 'obby.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Sariel agreed.
“Those are, er, interesting fashion choices,” Ganesh told Chango.
“Thankee mate. Top Shop. And I’m supposing you are Charles, our initiate?”
“Yeah, I’m Charles," Sariel told him, "and the fashion maven is Ganesh.”
“Oy, the lovely inamorato!” said Chango approvingly.
“Er,” Said Ganesh. “I haven’t before heard myself referred to as such, but yes, I suppose.”
"Walk royght this way...." Chango told them.
"If I could walk THAT way...." Ganesh began.
"If I have my way," Sariel whispered in his ear, "You won't be able to walk after this weekend.”
Ganesh raised an eyebrow and the two men followed Chango into the building. It was a gloomy, candlelit affair. The residents could have stood a good maid service: there seemed to be a layer of cobwebs and dust over everything, as Ganesh found when he experimentally ran a finger over a collection of morningstars. Chango took them down several dark hallways.
“I wish Nathan had come along,” Sariel whispered to Ganesh at one point.
“Nathan?”
“This place is SO METAL! It looks like Murderface’s wet dream!”
Gamesh wrinkled his nose, as this was not something of which he was eager to draw a mental picture.
They finally found their way to what looked like a dining room, lit only by candles and a fireplace. Three place settings had been laid out at one end. Chango bade them sit, and then whisked off to the inevitable thunder and lightning.
“This is pretty awesome, huh?” Sariel asked, looking around excitedly.
“Mmmm,” said Ganesh. He had poured out a bit of wine, and was swirling his glass, eyeing it critically. “I think this Malbec is corked,” he grumped.
Suddenly, a caped figure appeared in the doorway. “I bid you welcome!” he said. “I am … Orula!” And of course, this was perfectly timed to a lightning flash and thunder clap.
“Whoa,” said Sariel.
Ganesh rolled his eyes. “Care for some wine … Orula?” he asked, shaking the bottle, as lightning cooperatively flashed again.
"I don't drink ... wine!" Orula told them, dramatically flourishing his cape as yet more thunder crashed.
"Er, no?" asked Ganesh.
"No, I much prefer akvavit. Won't you try a spot?" Orula asked, courteously holding up a decanter.
"Hey, sure," Sariel told him, offering his glass.
Orula threw back his hood. "Sorry," he apologized. "The cloak is a dramatic touch, but it's a bit of a bother when one is dining, I do find." He took a seat at the head of the table. Orula was a dusky-skinned man wearing large horn-rimmed glasses that looked thick as the bulletproof glass on a Dethlimo. His hair was a dark tangled cloud that had a part somewhat arbitrarily off to one side, making him look not unlike the cartoon character, Gumby.
"It's very ... theatrical," Ganesh allowed, holding out his own wine glass to be filled, having discarded his spoiled Malbec into a handy potted plant, which quickly turned brown and shriveled up.
"Old Footlights man am I!" Orula confessed.
"Oh. Cambridge?" Ganesh inquired, once more wrinkling up his nose.
"Um-hum. And yourself?"
"Oxford," Ganesh stated.
“Well, you had that look! And so, we’re going to be doing an intiation this weekend? Going full out, I expect? Life of a Santerio, always engaging. Always engaging. Just need to get a few technicalities out of the way first. Just little teeny tiny details, oh so small! You two don’t mind giving up your powers to us? Just for the weekend, mind!”
“Yeah, I suppose that’ll be OK,” said Sariel, taking a refill of akvavit.
“WHAT?” said Ganesh.
“Just for the duration, mind!" Orula assured them. "More of a favor to you, they’d just get in the way. Me, I find I’m better off without ‘em, for a spell. Kind of refreshing!”
“Sariel, are you certain-“ Ganesh ventured.
“Aw, c’mon, Ganesh. Like he says, it’s just for the weekend.” Sariel was glancing carelessly through the pages of the rather extensive looking contract Orula had just extracted from his cape. Sariel grabbed the quill pen Orula offered and cheerily signed his name at the bottom.
“Aren’t you even intending read this, jaanu?” Ganesh asked skeptically, bringing out his reading glasses.
“This weekend, I’m not a lawyer. I’m just a Santeria initiate, and your fiance,” Sariel said, quickly giving a scowling Ganesh a peck on the cheek.
Ganesh produced a guttural sound from somewhere in his throat as he used the quill pen to scratch out several sections of Orula’s contract.
“Oh you two are tying the knot? The old ball and chain, eh?” Orula asked Sariel.
“Yep,” said Sariel.
“Oh isn’t that lovely. And such a splendid time of year. Have you picked a venue?”
“San Serriffe!” Sariel said proudlyl
“Yes. It’s supposed to be a REAL tropical island,” Ganesh grumbled, grudgingly signing his name and handing the sheaf of papers to Orula.
“Ah, magnificent! I hear the Upper Caisse is particularly lovely this time of year,” Orula babbled, waving his hand and making the papers suddenly disappear to the inevitable flash of lightning. “CHANGO!” he suddenly shrieked.
“Yes, mahster?” inquired Chango, who had made use of the time to change into a leopard skin jumpsuit and purple platforms.
“Chango, mate, can you kindly see that these gentlemen’s things are put up on the third floor?”
"The third floor?" asked Chango, drawing back in horror, and clutching his feather boa more tightly around his neck. “Not.... Not the THIRD FLOOR? Nooo, master!"
"Er. Why not the third floor?" ventured Ganesh.
"Because that's...." Lightning flashed and there was a terrifically well-timed thunder crash. "THE HONEYMOON SUITE!"
"Yes, well, these chaps are getting married in a few weeks, it should be nice."
"Ooooo!" said Chango. "Well, yes, then that will be rather nice."
"Be sure to supply them with the decorative soaps!" Orula suggested.
"Oh, yes, we will have to do that."
Mordhaus....
Raziel marched dramatically up and down in front of the somewhat bemused looking assemblage of death metal musicians, whom she had mustered in more or less a line in the gardens.
"All right, you scum! I am here to whip you into the greatest fighting force known to man!"
"Uhhhh..." said Murderface, raising a cautious hand.
"Yeah?"
"Will there be real whipsch involved?"
"No," Raziel told him.
"Oh." Murderface looked downcast.
"MAYBE we'll get out the riding crop later," she allowed.
"OK!"
'All right, as I was saying. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
"I ams chewings da gums!" Toki brightly told her.
"Did I SAY you could chew gum?"
"Uh, nos?"
"Take it out! You don't chew gum unless I tell you you can chew gum! Is this understood?"
"Uh, ja?" asked Toki, holding the wad up on one finger.
"Now...."
"Raziel?" asked Toki, waving a gummy finger.
"Yeah?"
"Cans Tokis chews da gums?"
"Yeah, sure, go ahead."
"OK! Now, this is VERY IMPORTANT. Do you know why learning this maneuver is so very important?"
"Uhhhhh. The fate of the world or some mellow shit like that?" Nathan ventured.
"No!" said Raziel, suddenly rounding on a surprised Nathan Explosion and pulling him down by the collar so she was nose to nose with him. "It's because I HAVE A BET WITH SARIEL! And I don't lose my fucking wagers. IS THAT CLEAR?"
"Uh. Yes. Ma'am?" said Nathan.
Toki snickered. "AND WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT?" Raziel demanded.
"Oh. I ams listenings to da Mightsies Booshes BBCs programmes ons my iPods."
"Oh, yeah. Boosh! Those guys are classic," agreed Raziel.
"I don't get the Boosch," Murderface grumbled.
"AND DO NOT MOCK BRITISH COMEDY!" Raziel thundered at him.
Murderface grumbled, but muttered as she left, "Their humor isch too abschtrusche."
Orula's dark and scary castle, the Honeymoon Suite....
Except for the stone floors and walls, Orula's honeymoon suite looked like a room at just about any cosy bed and breakfast, with plenty of oddly-chosen knick knacks cluttering the room and collecting more dust and cobwebs.
"You sure you don't wanna shower, Ganesh? They got decorative soaps!" Sariel told him.
Ganesh, sitting up in bed beneath the ruffled bedspread, did not look up from his laptop, but instead grunted in response.
"You can't spend the entire weekend in a bad mood!" Sariel told him.
"You'd be surprised what I can do."
"Ganesh," Sariel said, climbing onto the bed.
"Sariel. I had thought to be spending this time resting on a beach, improving my already pefect tan. And not tangling with a quite mad Footlights veteran."
Sariel moved over to straddle Ganesh's legs and pushed a finger to shut his laptop. “You’re just mad that he went to Cambridge.”
Ganesh glared at him. "And I'm not terribly pleased at giving up our powers, jaanu."
"It's just for the weekend," Sariel explained, putting aside the laptop.
"And... And.... That damned lightning is getting annoying!"
"Uh-huh," said Sariel, removing Ganesh's reading glasses and carefully folding them up. "Know what I brought?"
"What?"
Sariel happily flourished a plastic bottle.
"Baby oil?"
"We'll have to time it perfectly with the lightning flashes," Sariel grinned, rubbing his hands together to warm the oil.
"You are trying to appeal to my baser instincts," Ganesh, who failed to look terribly disapproving as Sariel started rubbing his chest.
"Uh-huh. That usually works."
Quite despite himself, Ganesh smiled.
Ganesh awoke the next day to patches of actual sunshine streaming through the flowery curtains, and in a much-improved mood.
Sariel was not around, but there was a note scribbled on the nightstand. “DOING INITIATION CRAP. GO READ A SHITTY BOOK!” The note was stuck to a well thumbed paperback book: “Savage Love Flame.” The cover featured a poorly rendered oil painting of a fellow with too much hair on his head and not nearly enough on his chest (in Ganesh’s humble opinion) plus some woman hanging off him clad in a rather regrettable dress.
Ganesh chuckled, and, pouring himself a nice cup of tea (a pot had been thoughtfully left on a tray in their room), and began to read. It was trash, of course, but strangely engrossing, if only from an anthropologic point of view. Various articles of clothing were endlessly becoming ripped apart which, given the descriptions, Ganesh supposed, was probably for the best. And ardent aspiring lovers seemed to be forever sweeping each other up in their arms and dashing upstairs, which seemed a poor prelude to lovemaking, especially given the limited stamina that was common to humans. Instead of all the ripping and running, why not instead a nice cocktail, and perhaps some weed, followed by a leisurely walk to a suitable room located conveniently on the same floor?
A few cups and some similar musings later, he heard their suite door rattle, and the sound of someone entering.
“Sariel?” he asked, rising to view the entryway. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I shouldn’t spend our time together in a bad….”
The novel fell to the floor.
Ganesh stood back, gasping in horror.
"THEY SHAVED YOUR HEAD?" he squeaked at Sariel
"It'll grow back," Sariel laughed.
"Your lovely hair,” Ganesh sobbed.
"Ganesh. It's hair. I dunno. I sorta like this," Sariel said, rubbing his head.
"What can be next!" Ganesh fretted. "A porn 'stache?"
"Hey, you grew that fucking beard."
"Hrm. I may grow it back. At least one of us needs body hair. They didn't shave ... anything else, did they?" he fretted.
“They need to draw shit on my head,” Sariel explained, tapping his shaved pate with a finger.
“Why can’t they use a sticky note?"
“You want ‘em to paste sticky notes? On my head?”
They both ceased bickering at the sound of their door handle being rattled.
“If that is Orula then I shall register my displeasure!” Ganesh vowed, striding towards the door. He pulled it open.
And stumbled backwards.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck….” Ganesh muttered.
“What the- OH SHIT!” Sariel exclaimed as the hoard of vile, festering zombies started to shuffle into their honeymoon suite.
Mordhaus….
“Sooooo, you guys wanna tell me what happened this time?” queried Raziel, eyeing the pile of twisted steel that had until quite recently been Dethklok’s giant mecha.
There was a sullen silence, and then Murderface muttered, “Got a phone call.” The rest of the band fixed him with glaring eyes.
“Uh-huh. From whom?” pressed Raziel.
“Don’t gotta tell you,” Murderface muttered.
“I think you can share with the rest of the class!” Raziel lectured.
“Yeh, wut wuz so feckin’ important?” Pickles demanded.
"Yeah, Murderface, why don't you SHARE WITH THE CLASS?" Nathan thundered.
Murderface muttered something.
“What was that?” Raziel asked.
“Gotta message from Luz Magnifica Balaustrada.”
There was a moment of silence. “OH MY GOD THE DAYTIME EMMY AWARD-WINNING PRODUCER OF CORAZON DE AZUL?” Raziel squealed.
"Dood," said Pickles.
Raziel sat down on the grass next to Murderface. "So how do you know Luz Magnifica Balustrada?"
"Her schecond couschin goes to my Schpanish-American War reenactment club."
"Hrm. Well, it seems to me the important thing is.... Can anyone in the class tell us?" asked Raziel.
"CAN SHE GET US TICKETS TO THE LATIN AMERICAN DAYTIME EMMYS?" growled Nathan.
"Exactly," said Raziel.
Orula's dark and scary castle, the Honeymoon Suite....
“Yes, I am truly sorry,” Orula apologized. “That tends to be the problem with the third floor.”
“That and the leaky plumbing!” Chango said, extracting a slightly drooly copy Savage Love Flame paperback from where it had been crammed down a zombie’s throat and handing it off to Ganesh, who somewhat irritably snatched it out of his hand.
“Yes, leaky plumbing and zombie attacks! It’s a hazard. Do you own your own castle, Sariel?”
“Yes, yes I do,” Sariel told him. “We had it built.”
“Oh, yes, had I to do it again, that’s probably what I’d do," Orula confessed.
“Well,” counseled Sariel, “It does have a down side. You gotta deal with a lotta contractors. And everything takes twice as long and costs three times as much as you expect.”
“Ah, but this was a fixer. ENDLESS problems," Orula sighed.
“Money pit, huh?” asked Sariel.
“You have no clue,” Orula told him. He hefted a small soap cake. “Chango, I do think they are out of decorative soaps.”
“Yes,” said Ganesh. “We had to hurl them at the zombies since you TOOK AWAY OUR POWERS!”
“Well, anyway, I was up here to bring you chaps down for a little ceremony type thing. Chango, can you get this tidied up a bit while we’re downstairs?”
“Yes, mahster,” Chango vowed, cheerily waving a dismembered arm at Orula. He had thoughtfully changed into a day glo pink jumpsuit with striking purple fur trim and a matching hat.
“Shouldn’t take long, really,” Orula told them as he departed. “Just a technicality.”
“Oh, no problem," Sariel assured him.
“SARIEL!” Ganesh whispered harshly as Sariel started to follow Orula down the darkened staircase.
“Yeah?”
“Might I point out amid the cheery banter that WE WERE JUST NEARLY EXTERMINATED BY A HOARD OF THE UNDEAD!”
“Aw, but I thought you liked playing VENGEFUL DEAD III: ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE with me?”
“But, yes, one important point, that is a video game! And I am allowed to arm myself with a flaming chainsaw, not a bunch of fucking scented soap cakes!” Ganesh protested, waving a somewhat mangled cake.
“Come on. Do this with me. It’ll just take a minute. And then we’ll spend the rest of the weekend in bed.”
“I wanted to work on my already perfect tan!” Ganesh sulked.
“I will personally cover you with spray tan," Sariel promised.
Ganesh grumbled.
“I will use my tongue.”
“All right. Maybe. But I don’t want to end up looking too orange,” Ganesh sniffed.
Ganesh followed Sariel into a small, darkened room.
It had been laid out as if for a funeral. Including a rather magnificent coffin. There were flowers and lit candles everywhere.
“Who died?” asked Sariel.
“You, my dear,” Orula told him.
“Oh. Cool!”
“Sariel!” said Ganesh.
“Naw, it’s fine, I’ve done this before,” Sariel assured him.
“Now, you just pop right in here,” Orula told him, indicating the coffin, “and we’ll have a little toast to your health,” he continued, holding up a decanter. “Little Ifa joke,” he whispered to Ganesh. “Drink his health. After he’s dead.” He chuckled awkwardly and poked a rather distasteful Ganesh in his ribs.
“I should have brought a darker grey suit,” Sariel commented, cooperatively jumping into the coffin. “OW!” He reached behind his posterior and brought out a pair of machetes.
“Oh, yes, you know, a little token, to take to the afterlife,” Orula said, taking the machetes and carefully laying them back in the bottom of the coffin, one on either side of Sariel.
“The afterlife?” Ganesh asked suspiciously.
"You know. After he's quite dead, that usually follows. Bit of a bore, I find. All right! Bottoms up there!" Orula said, filling Sariel's glass. The angel obediently downed the shot of the greenish liquid.
Sariel's eyes rolled up in his head, and he promptly collapsed back into the coffin.
"Sariel?" Ganesh asked.
"Er, I meant sip slowly," Orula said.
“Sariel? SARIEL!” Ganesh, now feeling the panic rise, shouted. He leaned over the coffin and shook the unresponsive angel.
“I did tell him just a sip,” Orula fretted.
Ganesh felt Sariel's wrist, then his neck. He tore his stethoscope out of a pocket and put it to his ears. He ripped Sariel’s shirtfront open and frantically positioned the sensor on Sariel’s chest, checking in stunned silence for a heartbeat.
There was none.
He turned on Orula, gasping.
"YOU KILLED HIM. YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"
"Oh. May have been a little generous with the secret sauce," Orula allowed.
"Orula. WHEN I GET MY POWERS BACK...."
"Oops, look at the time," said Orula. "Need to nip out for a bit."
"ORULA!" Ganesh grabbed at the Orisha, who had disappeared. He looked at Sariel's lifeless form. He gripped a cold hand, wiping his eyes, so filled with anguish and frustration he could no longer think clearly.
"I finished upstairs. Would you like some light bites?"
Ganesh looked up to see Chango, now clad in a lovely mink wrap, offering him a snack tray.
"Chango! Sariel is DEAD. Orula killed him!"
"Oh. That was unfortunate."
"UNFORTUNATE?"
"Was he insured?"
"Chango, my fiancé is dead!"
"Tsk. Sure you won't have some snacks? Might need to keep your strength up!"
"GODS DAMN IT CHANGO...." But of course, the Orishas disappeared - with a flash of lightning - and taking the snack tray with him.
"Fucking voodoo fucking..." Ganesh cursed.
He heard the shuffling at the door. "Oh what the fuck now. CHANGO! I'm going to-"
The door opened.
Ganesh gawped.
He leapt for the coffin and grabbed one of the machetes laid out by Sariel, dearly wishing he could break out more arms.
And then the vilen shuffling zombie hoard was once again upon him.
And this time, there was absolutely no decorative soap on hand.
Mordhaus....
“Huh,” said Raziel.
“Dat din’t work either,” Pickles told her.
“No, but, you know what I’ve found?”
There was a tremendous crash.
“No, wut?”
“You ALWAYS learn something from your failures!”
“Well. Dat’s a positive attitude.”
“What?” growled Nathan, taking off his motorcycle helmet and sitting beside them.
“Raz is sayin’ dere’s always somethin’ positive about dese failure t’ings.”
“I dunno, Lady Raz,” Nathan growled. “A POSITIVE ATTITUDE? Doesn’t sound very BRUTAL!”
“Well, maybe you can always find something metal too!” she told him.
“Huh,” said Nathan. “I didn’t think of it that way.”
There was a scream as a Klokateer whose hood had caught fire ran screaming by, as another Klokateer chased him with a fire extinguisher.
“I mean, look at the carnage!" said Raziel.
"Yeah, I guess all the destruction is kind of brutal," Nathan allowed.
"It ams convinces you of da pointlessness of existences!" Skwisgaar told them, his helmet under one arm.
"So, uh...." Nathan reasoned. "Twisted metal ... IS METAL?"
All nodded.
"Hey, Nathan," Raziel asked, "Do you have ANY IDEA where your Krokku Cycle landed last time?"
Nathan shrugged. "It's gotta come back down some time, right? RIGHT?"
Meanwhile back at the creepy castle, where Sariel is still dead....
The twisted remains of several zombies lay at Ganesh’s feet.
Unfortunately, the gore was making the floor slippery, and it was just a matter of time before Ganesh, fighting off a seemingly inexhaustible hoard of the undead, slipped and fell, the machete clattering on the floor, just out of his reach. He slid back on the floor, as the newer, more intact arrivals slowly began to swarm him. For the last time, he feared.
It was unimaginable, really. He should have been able to pop out a dozen extra arms and cut through the slow-witted creatures like butter. But he had given up his powers to that slick motherfucker Orula, and now he was going to die, along with his unfortunate fiancé, leaving their only son an orphan.
His entire body was wracked in sorrow, thinking of his child. How he wanted to hold him, just one last time. And tell him everything would be all right.
A particularly large and awful-looking zombie loomed over him, leering.
"Elias," he shouted, stupidly. "I love you, Boon."
The zombie grunted in undead surprise.
Ganesh stared in wonder.
It had a machete tip poking through its chest.
The machete withdrew, and the zombie collapsed on top of Ganesh, who, shuddering, pushed the foul thing off of him.
"SARIEL!"
The angel stood, mad grin on his face, flourishing a machete. He grabbed the other blade Ganesh had dropped and, turning without a word, began a blindingly fast obliteration of the room's other undead occupants. Ganesh sat, too astonished to even pretend to offer aid, as a blur of metal sent limbs and heads and guts squishing sickly across the room. It was crazy. No one should have been able to move that fast, not even a god.
And then, finally, there was silence.
Sariel happily tossed the blades aside and crouched down beside Ganesh.
"Sariel!” Ganesh said, gratefully touching his face. “The drug must have slowed your heart! Are you recovered?"
Sariel didn't reply, but instead swept Ganesh into a rather long, rather passionate kiss.
"Well," said Ganesh when the clinch finally broke. "I gather you are somewhat recover-"
But he got no further, as Sariel suddenly scooped him up into his arms, and then carried him out of the room and up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Mordhaus....
"Why duz feckin' Toki always doo it perfectly?" Pickles grumbled, shaking himself out of the remains of his once again totaled Octo-poddu.
"I dunno," mused Raziel.
"Feckin teacher's pet!" Pickles yelled, as Toki touched down perfectly in his Usagi Hoppa.
"Ja?" Toki asked agreeably."
"Toki?" asked Raziel.
"Whats?"
"Toki!"
"Whats!"
"TOKI! TURN DOWN YOUR FUCKING IPOD!"
"Oh. Ja." The guitarist grinned and tooki out his Nano.
"Hey, Toki, let me see that," Raziel said. He handed her the device, and she scrolled down the playlist. "Do you always listen to this when you do the transformation?" she asked.
"Ja. Sure. Ams brutals playlist. Ums. Maybes excepts for da Amy Grants?"
"Huh. So, you can do the transform perfectly while you listen to this playlist?" Toki nodded happily. Raziel looked at Pickles. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Pickles nodded. "Yeh, but Charles jest broke ground fer da Shinkansen, I dunno if we'd be able t' talk him into building' da secret moon base."
"Damn!" said Raziel. "Really? Can't that guy do more than one thing at once?"
Pickles shrugged. "Well, he does have kid now."
"That's true," said Raziel.
"I ams has da ideas!" Toki interjected.
"Yeh? Wut's yer idea, Toki?" Pickles asked.
"I ams crochets da lovelies shawl dat looks like da angels wingses!"
"Oooo, that's such a cute idea!" Raziel agreed.
"An' practical," noted Pickles.
"And I ams calls it ... da Tokis shawl!"
"We have such good ideas!" Raziel enthused, as a bit of Nathan's charred Krokku Cycle fell from where it had landed one of Mordhaus' dragon spires and nearly squashed them all.
"Oh, so dat's where dat t'ing ended up!" said Pickles.
The creepy non-tropical castle....
Ganesh awoke. He shook his head.
Sariel was on top of him, kissing him passionately.
"Jaanu?" Ganesh muttered. "Sariel? Sariel? SARIEL!!"
The angel blinked dumbly at him.
"All right, dear?" Ganesh said, forcibly restraining Sariel. "I never thought I should say this to you. Or, er, any living being. It has been...." He consulted the clock by the bedside. "Forty-eight hours. More or less. Since you carried me up here? I believe I might need to eat something? Eat?"
Sariel nodded enthusiastically, and began to kiss Ganesh's chest and down his stomach. Ganesh wrested him back.
“Er. I mean. Food? Eat food!"
Sariel looked at him. And then disappeared.
"Don't you want to put on trousers..." ventured Ganesh. He sighed. "Well, at least one of us has his powers back I suppose.
And then Sariel was back on top of him, only now wielding a tremendous tray of food.
"Oh, well, er, isn't this nice," said Ganesh. "I was thinking maybe we could sit-" But Sariel had forked some food into Ganesh's mouth. "You really don't need to-" More food. "Well, it's awfully courteous of you dear." Sariel chomped on a huge bite of food and then kissed Ganesh, who found the wad of food transferred to his own mouth.
"Uh-huh," Ganesh said, frantically holding Sariel back. "Er. And. You know what else I need? TEA! Yes, I very much need a cup of tea. BUT!" he added, catching Sariel's wrist. "It needs to be Darjeeling. LOOSE TEA! And, er, steeped precisely four minutes! In a china pot! With, er, flowers on it!”
Sariel disappeared again, and Ganesh, after a moment, rose rather unsteadily to his feet and, shrugging into a robe, slowly made his way to the washroom, where he turned the sink on full and splashed water into his face. He looked into the mirror and started.
"Jacque!" he said, whirling around.
"So, what the fuck do you--GAHHH!" Jacque said as he was seized by the neck by a furious Ganesh.
"You nearly killed him you motherfucker!" Ganesh cried.
"It's part of the fucking ceremony!"
"I DIDN'T KNOW THAT!"
"Well, I couldn't very fucking well give it away!"
"I DESPAIRED FOR HIS LIFE!"
"You needed to for the fucking magic to work!"
"If I had my powers, you'd be a FUCKING STAIN ON THE FUCKING CARPET RIGHT NOW JACQUE!" Ganesh shouted to the empty air.
"You don't have you powers back, Ganesh? Damn, you are one strong little cocksucker,” said Jacque, who had suddenly appeared at the other end of the room.
"Jacque!"
"What brought him back?
"What the fuck do you mean?" Ganesh asked.
"What was the fucking word? That brought him back?"
Ganesh stopped fuming and thought for a moment. "I... I called to our son."
"Oh! What words? Did you say Sen Michel?"
"I didn't call him that, Jacque. No one calls him that."
"What did you say, boy?"
"I called for Elias. But then I called him Boon. We all call him Boon. It's not even his proper name."
"Ah! Boon. A power word. Good. Who Named him Boon, anyway?"
"What? Lady Raziel started to call him that. She tends to make up nicknames."
"The Queen has Naming power! I wouldn't have suspected. She's a bit of a fucking ne'er-do-well in my universe. Of course, so are you!"
Ganesh frowned. "Boon isn't a Sacred Name, Jacque. It's just a nickname. Everyone calls him that."
"Now. There's Power Names no one knows, and there's Names that get their power form everyone using them. It's a different kind of magic."
'Magic. Jacque! I need to get my magic back. And, how long is Sariel going to remain ... like that?"
"Like what?"
"We've been in this bedroom - in that bed - for the past two days straight."
"And you're complainin'?"
"I need my powers back. I am quite starting to quite run dry."
"Ah. Should be another day or two, he'll be fine. Though, come to think of it, when I did my initiation, it was a time when I had three wives. I'll go talk to my boy!"
"I don't think he's in the mood for talking!" Ganesh warned. But Jacque was already gone. Ganesh shook his head, and returned to the bedroom.
"Oh. Sariel." The angel was grinning and holding a tray with a little flowered ceramic teapot.
To Ganesh's astonishment, Sariel spoke. "I got tea! Just the way you wanted it!"
"All right," said Ganesh, taking the tray and setting it on the bedside table. "You, er, are feeling better?"
"I feel GREAT!"
"Oh. Well. That's good," said Ganesh, pouring out some tea. It really did smell delicious. "That's nice."
"I spoke to Jacque!"
"Yes, he was just here, in fact," Ganesh told him, gratefully sipping tea. "He said-"
"He told me how to get your powers back!"
"Oh? OH!"
And then there was Darjeeling tea, everywhere.
Mordhaus....
Having temporarily exhausted Kitsune's store of extra mecha devices, Lady Raziel and Nathan Explosion had retired to Mordhaus to play Mega Excellent Zombie Killah III.
"We paid a lot of money for this MECHA SHIT, right?" Nathan grumbled.
"Sorry, I don't really concern myself with that kinda stuff," Raziel told him.
"Oh. 'Cause human money doesn't make sense to you supernatural guys?"
"Nah. Because my husband's loaded," Raziel told him, taking out an entire hoard of undead with a machine gun.
"But why don't they build this robot shit like they would in AMERICA?" Nathan grumbled. "You know, NO ASSEMBLY REQUIRED?"
"Well," said Raziel, "The HENSHIN sequence is a very important element of mecha fighting. It's very dramatic, with exciting music playing..."
"Wait. You're supposed to play music?" Nathan asked.
"Oh, yes, all the super teams have their own rousing theme song!"
"Bwa-ha-ha! I killed your last zombie! I won I won!"
"Wait, Lady Raziel! We're Dethklok! WE'RE MUSICIANS!"
"Well, you're obviously not video game aces."
"Why don't we do the Benson stuff..."
"HENSHIN!"
"To fucking music?"
Raziel stood and thought. "Huh. How long you think it would take you guys to come up with theme music?"
"Us? Working at our normal speed? Uhhhhhhh. About three and a half years."
Raziel looked at him. "That might be pushing it."
"Huh," said Nathan.
"But you know," she mused, "Toki has a playlist....."
"A playtlist? For Wenching?"
"Henshin!"
"IS IT BRUTAL?" Nathan inquired.
"Uhhhhhh......"
The creepy castle, around tea time....
Ganesh was sprawled on the bed, pleasantly entangled in angel wings.
"Mmmm," he said.
"Your powers all back?" Sariel asked.
Ganesh flicked his fingers, exploding some tacky knick knacks on Orula's shelf.
"Mmmm. Yes. But your hair isn't," Ganesh said, rubbing a hand over Sariel's stubbly head.
"OK. You get to do that exactly once, and then you lose a hand."
"I have ones to spare," Ganesh grinned, flourishing several of the same.
Sariel grabbed the alarm clock on the nightstand. "We should maybe think about getting UUUUUU-" He found himself suddenly grabbed by quite a few spare hands and thrown down on the bed.
"Not yet, I think. You've had your fun. Now I quite intend to have mine," Ganesh told him.
Sariel grinned and lobbed the alarm clock across the room, where it burst apart, scattering springs and gears across the stone floor.
Mordhaus….
"Hey. You're late," said Raziel, consulting her watch.
“Yeah.”
“Two days late, to be exact," she told him.
"We were having a pretty good time. But we had to leave. We sort of broke Orula's Honeymoon Suite."
"Did you?"
"Yep." Sariel grinned.
"What happened to the hair? You didn’t try to magick it green or something?”
"Voudoun."
"Ah. Can I-?"
"You can do it once. And after that, you lose your fucking hand." Sariel leaned over, and Raziel rubbed his head.
"Ooo, that's cool!" she said. "You should leave it like that!"
"Naw. Ganesh hates it."
"He grew that stupid beard!"
"Well, that's what I told him," Sariel agreed.
"And?"
"He threatened to grow a porn 'stache this time."
"Hrm. Yes, I see the problem. Well, you wanna see?" Raziel asked.
"Fuck yeah."
"All right, troops," Raziel barked.
"What's?" inquired Toki.
"We're gonna transform so Charles can see. OK?"
"Cans I chews da gums?"
"Yes, you can chew gum."
Sariel frowned skeptically while Toki ran to mount his rabbit-y mecha, the Usagi Hoppa.
"All right, everybody, mounted? I mean in your goddam robot, Skwisgaar," Raziel yelled over the comm link. "Then on my mark, START PLAYLIST OMEGA OZZY!"
"Playlist?" Sariel asked.
Raziel covered her mouthpiece. "Nathan named it," she whispered. Then into the microphone, "Tigah Car, Usagi Hoppa, HENSHIN!". And Murderface and Toki's robots swiftly converted to two legs.
"Octu-poddu, HENSHIN!" Pickles' mecha swiftly scrambled up on the legs to become the body and right arm.
"Krokku Cycle, HENSHIN!". And with that, Nathan's vehicle transformed into a right arm featuring a very large fist and clanked in place.
"Almost there," Raziel whispered. "Hawkku Coptah, HENSHIN!"
Skwisgaar performed a perfect landing to become the robot's bird-like head.
"Whoa," said Sariel, who was honestly impressed.
"Wait wait wait wait wait!" Raziel chirped. "One last thing!" She shouted into the mike, "Mega Taser Powah!"
The giant mecha suddenly produced the huge electrical weapon developed by the annoying scientist guys. It flourished it, and then pulled back, as it it were playing the taser like a low slung Gibson.
Raziel looked up to the hand clamped to her shoulder. She looked over to Sariel, who held out between his fingers one crisp American dollar.
"Just one thing," Raziel noted, snatching the bill and holding it up to the light to study the watermark.
"What's that?"
"NEVER ask what's on this playlist. Gotta get back to the kids," she said, pulling him on the collar to give him a peck on the cheek, and then a very swift head rub.
"What playlist?" he asked. But she had disappeared.
"Dude!" Nathan called, removing his helmet. "Wasn't that FUCKING BADASS?"
"Nathan, that was...."
"But don't you schay badassch," Murderface warned.
Toki popped out of his vehicle, in his excitement forgetting that his headphones were jacked in. They popped out with a snap, and you could clearly hear his stereo playing softly.
"Baby baby, I'm taken with the notion...."
"No, I absolutely promise you, I will not say badass," Sariel grinned.
"Dood, wut happened to yer hair?" Pickles asked.
"You get to do it once. ONCE!" Sariel sighed as a grinning Pickles rubbed his head. "This was part of the initiation."
"What initiation?" Nathan grumbled.
"My initiation? That's why I was away."
"You were away?" asked Nathan.
"I was away."
"Oh. For the whole weekend?"
"For a long weekend, yeah."
"Did we pay you for it?" Nathan asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
"Nathan. I have about three years vacation saved up at this point."
"Three years? Didn't you reset when you were dead?"
"Well, yes, but I just died again, and the rules are you get it all back," Sariel explained.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Really." Sariel looked around, frowning. “Where is Skwisgaar, anyway?”
Somewhere….
The dark man waited outside the residence. He held between two elegant fingers a thin cigarette, which he was currently letting burn to ash.
“I t’ink you ams not bes welcomed here no mores.”
He looked up to see the tall blond looking down at him.
“I think you might be right,” he said agreeably. He gestured, and the blond sat down on the ornamental bench next to him, beside the gorgeous pool of still standing water.
A pair of servant girls walked by. They were quite lovely, as were all who lived and worked here. But they looked at the two men, sitting quietly on the bench, giggled softly to one another, and quickly scurried away.
There was another presence, standing in back of them.
"You think to keep us apart with your childish maneuvering again, Ganesha?"
"Actually, I find I no longer much care. I would simply like to be left in peace to raise my son." He flicked his cigarette ashes. He listened for a time to his mother's harsh breathing. "The things you wish to say to me, there is no way to say them gracefully, is there? It is a common occurrence when thoughts are ugly."
Skwisgaar had stood up, visibly uncomfortable, at the sound of Parvati's voice, but Ganesh remained seated, facing away from her.
"What you have done to our House. To our bloodline," Parvati said.
"I've given you an heir. How am I not being a dutiful son?"
"You of all people should know about angels! You fought them! You killed them! And then you take one to your bed, just to slap your father...."
"Mother, you know full well that isn't the reason...."
"And then you produce ... this abomination! I won't have our house run by a Nephal!"
"A Nephal? Mother! Sariel is half god himself!"
"Yes! The Vodouisants! They are not honorable!"
"Ogoun Sen Jacque has little use for honor. He is wealthy."
"And what is the source of that wealth?"
"What was the source of ours?" Ganesh demanded, suddenly turning on the seat to face her. He was a bit taken aback. The scars that had laced one side of his mother's lovely face had faded, but he noticed, in her fury, a light red web lightly traced her expression.
"Did you come here seeking approval?" Parvati asked him. "You Named your child without even consulting me! You took over the family business without my say!"
"Since when have you been interested in anything about the Eastern Kingdom save the amount of your monthly allowance," Ganesh sniffed.
"You love having that power over me, don't you?" Parvati told him.
Ganesh scowled and blew smoke.
"You shouldn't smoke," Parvati told him. "It's a filthy habit. And you have a child now."
"Does Skwisgaar know why you have him here?" Ganesh asked, changing tack.
"I ams here because I ams wants to be here. Ams nots your business," Skwisgaar threatened, albeit a bit uncertainly.
"Skwisgaar, Parvati is taking on young lovers in hopes of producing a nice, fat little Aryan heir," Sariel informed them. He stood in front of the bench, a curious Elias on one hip.
"WHATS?" asked Skwisgaar, looking between Sariel and Parvati, whose face was laced in red.
"Sariel," said Ganesh, finally standing. "What are you doing here?"
"I was feeling a bit left out of the Eastern Kingdom bickering. Lady Parvati, this is Ganesh's kid. Your grandkid," he told her. "I figured you should maybe at least meet him before you start calling him names," Sariel told her.
"Since whens you ams wantsing a kid, Parvatis? You didn't tells me dats," Skwisgaar grumbled.
"Sariel is just using lies again to keep us apart," Parvati told him.
"Am I?" asked Sariel.
"Parvatis, I can't haves da kids! I ams in troubles wit' da Norns," Skwisgaar confessed.
"What?" asked Parvati. "You didn't tell me you had a Norn curse!"
"You didn't ams tells me you wants to gets knocksed ups!"
"Communication," Sariel told Elias. "It's the secret to a relationship." Elias smiled and flapped his wings.
"You deny you're seeking another child, Mother," Ganesh said sadly.
"Preferably somebody who won't embarass you by going wings out at an Eastern Kingdom board meeting," Sariel laughed.
"Someone you can manipulate. Like you used to do with my brother," Ganesh concluded.
"Tell me, because you seem to know all, Ganesha, why I do not simply have a seat on the board," Parvati sniffed.
Ganesh started to speak, but then closed his mouth.
"It is, as you say, my allowance," Parvati added.
"You must admit, your mom has a bit of that killer instinct, Ganesh," Sariel told him.
"Sariel," Ganesh said, turning to him. "I do not want Boon here! I do not wish him to hear this ... business.
"Why not?" Sariel asked. "This is Boon's dysfunctional family!"
"Boon?" Parvati asked. "Is that what you just called him?"
"Everybody ams calls him dats," Skwisgaar said. "You ams not knows dis, Parvatis?"
Parvati scowled. "No," she said. "I thought Brahma Named him after himself!"
"Does he seem a Brahma to you?" Ganesh asked her, gathering Elias into his arms. The tiny angel looked up at his father.
"No." Parvati stared at the child for a time. She swallowed. "He seems very like you. At that age."
Ganesh, who was on the verge of making another harsh remark, stopped. "He is, actually. Rather like me. Rather disappointingly like me."
"Perhaps he is not such a disappointment," Parvati said. They stood in silence for a time. "It is not polite for me to keep my guests in my courtyard. Please come inside everyone. Everyone," she said, looking over at Ganesh. "We will ... have conversation."
With a range of dubiousness in their expressions, the men exchanged looks, and then followed the goddess as she walked towards her residence.
"What has happened to your hair, Honored Sariel?" she asked, regarding the angel.
"OK," he explained. "You get to do it ONCE, and then you lose your hand!"
Parvati's light but musical laughter echoed in the courtyard.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Charles and Ganesh spend a quiet weekend away whilst Raz whips Dethklok into the greatest super sentai fighting force known to man!
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing, grave breaches of fashion sense
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. 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.
Last time: Dethklok became the newest Suoer Sentai team. And, er, they sort of suck. And Papa Jacque has been pressuring Sariel to undergo his Santero initiation.
Ogoun Charles by zsomeone
On an actually not terribly tropical island somewhere....
"So, this is the place?" Ganesh inquired as lightning struck, thunder crashed, and the horses whinnied for about the sixth or seventh time.
There were horses whinnying, parenthetically, because Ganesh and Sariel were currently being borne to their destination in a horse-drawn carriage. Up a narrow, winding mountain track. Through a woods full of bare trees. In a thunderstorm.
"It is unfortunate that we could not have Walked here," Ganesh grumbled.
"It's too magicked up to Walk. You know that. Besides, isn't this cool?" Sariel gushed, staring out the window in wonder. He heard Ganesh snort and asked, "What?"
"Sariel. Not that I don't appreciate mountain, er, scenery. It's simply that this was presented, was it not, as a tropical island getaway?"
"So there's a slight change in plans! I know you packed enough clothing for a Himalayan expedition."
"Perhaps so."
"This guy is supposed to be your buddy Elegba's friend, right?"
“Orula? Yes. Although we have not yet met.” Ganesh frowned. “I am hoping, perhaps selfishly, that the initiation ceremony will not prove too time consuming for you. The weather is not the best here.”
“So? Just stay inside, maybe read a trashy paperback.”
“I do not read trashy paperbacks,” Ganesh sniffed.
“You waste enough time watching that crappy telenovela!”
“Corazon de Azul is not trashy! It is the world's most beloved televised drama.”
But discussion of literary merit was abruptly brought to a halt, along with their carriage. Sariel seized the door handle and jumped out. “WHOA!” he said.
Ganesh followed more cautiously. Their carriage was now in the courtyard of what looked for all the world like an authentic Central European medieval castle. Even though, Ganesh reckoned, the Dethcopter had put them down on an island somewhere in the Caribbean region.
“Hmpf,” Ganesh grumbled. “I certainly hope the plumbing has been updated! I am not spending my weekend experiencing cold showers.”
“I second that,” Sariel grinned, giving Ganesh a rather rude pat on the ass. Ganesh smiled quite despite himself.
They suddenly spotted a figure tottering out to greet them. He had a strange, ungainly walk. When he drew closer, it was apparent that this was not due to some physical defect but rather because he was wearing 12 inch platform heels along with his fuschia tiger-striped jumpsuit.
“Oy there! Greetin's, and welcome to our dahk and gloomy cahstle. I am Chango!” the figure announced, to a terribly bright lighting flash followed by a boom of thunder and the inevitable neighing of horses. “Like that? I do thunder and lightning. It’s a 'obby.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Sariel agreed.
“Those are, er, interesting fashion choices,” Ganesh told Chango.
“Thankee mate. Top Shop. And I’m supposing you are Charles, our initiate?”
“Yeah, I’m Charles," Sariel told him, "and the fashion maven is Ganesh.”
“Oy, the lovely inamorato!” said Chango approvingly.
“Er,” Said Ganesh. “I haven’t before heard myself referred to as such, but yes, I suppose.”
"Walk royght this way...." Chango told them.
"If I could walk THAT way...." Ganesh began.
"If I have my way," Sariel whispered in his ear, "You won't be able to walk after this weekend.”
Ganesh raised an eyebrow and the two men followed Chango into the building. It was a gloomy, candlelit affair. The residents could have stood a good maid service: there seemed to be a layer of cobwebs and dust over everything, as Ganesh found when he experimentally ran a finger over a collection of morningstars. Chango took them down several dark hallways.
“I wish Nathan had come along,” Sariel whispered to Ganesh at one point.
“Nathan?”
“This place is SO METAL! It looks like Murderface’s wet dream!”
Gamesh wrinkled his nose, as this was not something of which he was eager to draw a mental picture.
They finally found their way to what looked like a dining room, lit only by candles and a fireplace. Three place settings had been laid out at one end. Chango bade them sit, and then whisked off to the inevitable thunder and lightning.
“This is pretty awesome, huh?” Sariel asked, looking around excitedly.
“Mmmm,” said Ganesh. He had poured out a bit of wine, and was swirling his glass, eyeing it critically. “I think this Malbec is corked,” he grumped.
Suddenly, a caped figure appeared in the doorway. “I bid you welcome!” he said. “I am … Orula!” And of course, this was perfectly timed to a lightning flash and thunder clap.
“Whoa,” said Sariel.
Ganesh rolled his eyes. “Care for some wine … Orula?” he asked, shaking the bottle, as lightning cooperatively flashed again.
"I don't drink ... wine!" Orula told them, dramatically flourishing his cape as yet more thunder crashed.
"Er, no?" asked Ganesh.
"No, I much prefer akvavit. Won't you try a spot?" Orula asked, courteously holding up a decanter.
"Hey, sure," Sariel told him, offering his glass.
Orula threw back his hood. "Sorry," he apologized. "The cloak is a dramatic touch, but it's a bit of a bother when one is dining, I do find." He took a seat at the head of the table. Orula was a dusky-skinned man wearing large horn-rimmed glasses that looked thick as the bulletproof glass on a Dethlimo. His hair was a dark tangled cloud that had a part somewhat arbitrarily off to one side, making him look not unlike the cartoon character, Gumby.
"It's very ... theatrical," Ganesh allowed, holding out his own wine glass to be filled, having discarded his spoiled Malbec into a handy potted plant, which quickly turned brown and shriveled up.
"Old Footlights man am I!" Orula confessed.
"Oh. Cambridge?" Ganesh inquired, once more wrinkling up his nose.
"Um-hum. And yourself?"
"Oxford," Ganesh stated.
“Well, you had that look! And so, we’re going to be doing an intiation this weekend? Going full out, I expect? Life of a Santerio, always engaging. Always engaging. Just need to get a few technicalities out of the way first. Just little teeny tiny details, oh so small! You two don’t mind giving up your powers to us? Just for the weekend, mind!”
“Yeah, I suppose that’ll be OK,” said Sariel, taking a refill of akvavit.
“WHAT?” said Ganesh.
“Just for the duration, mind!" Orula assured them. "More of a favor to you, they’d just get in the way. Me, I find I’m better off without ‘em, for a spell. Kind of refreshing!”
“Sariel, are you certain-“ Ganesh ventured.
“Aw, c’mon, Ganesh. Like he says, it’s just for the weekend.” Sariel was glancing carelessly through the pages of the rather extensive looking contract Orula had just extracted from his cape. Sariel grabbed the quill pen Orula offered and cheerily signed his name at the bottom.
“Aren’t you even intending read this, jaanu?” Ganesh asked skeptically, bringing out his reading glasses.
“This weekend, I’m not a lawyer. I’m just a Santeria initiate, and your fiance,” Sariel said, quickly giving a scowling Ganesh a peck on the cheek.
Ganesh produced a guttural sound from somewhere in his throat as he used the quill pen to scratch out several sections of Orula’s contract.
“Oh you two are tying the knot? The old ball and chain, eh?” Orula asked Sariel.
“Yep,” said Sariel.
“Oh isn’t that lovely. And such a splendid time of year. Have you picked a venue?”
“San Serriffe!” Sariel said proudlyl
“Yes. It’s supposed to be a REAL tropical island,” Ganesh grumbled, grudgingly signing his name and handing the sheaf of papers to Orula.
“Ah, magnificent! I hear the Upper Caisse is particularly lovely this time of year,” Orula babbled, waving his hand and making the papers suddenly disappear to the inevitable flash of lightning. “CHANGO!” he suddenly shrieked.
“Yes, mahster?” inquired Chango, who had made use of the time to change into a leopard skin jumpsuit and purple platforms.
“Chango, mate, can you kindly see that these gentlemen’s things are put up on the third floor?”
"The third floor?" asked Chango, drawing back in horror, and clutching his feather boa more tightly around his neck. “Not.... Not the THIRD FLOOR? Nooo, master!"
"Er. Why not the third floor?" ventured Ganesh.
"Because that's...." Lightning flashed and there was a terrifically well-timed thunder crash. "THE HONEYMOON SUITE!"
"Yes, well, these chaps are getting married in a few weeks, it should be nice."
"Ooooo!" said Chango. "Well, yes, then that will be rather nice."
"Be sure to supply them with the decorative soaps!" Orula suggested.
"Oh, yes, we will have to do that."
Mordhaus....
Raziel marched dramatically up and down in front of the somewhat bemused looking assemblage of death metal musicians, whom she had mustered in more or less a line in the gardens.
"All right, you scum! I am here to whip you into the greatest fighting force known to man!"
"Uhhhh..." said Murderface, raising a cautious hand.
"Yeah?"
"Will there be real whipsch involved?"
"No," Raziel told him.
"Oh." Murderface looked downcast.
"MAYBE we'll get out the riding crop later," she allowed.
"OK!"
'All right, as I was saying. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
"I ams chewings da gums!" Toki brightly told her.
"Did I SAY you could chew gum?"
"Uh, nos?"
"Take it out! You don't chew gum unless I tell you you can chew gum! Is this understood?"
"Uh, ja?" asked Toki, holding the wad up on one finger.
"Now...."
"Raziel?" asked Toki, waving a gummy finger.
"Yeah?"
"Cans Tokis chews da gums?"
"Yeah, sure, go ahead."
"OK! Now, this is VERY IMPORTANT. Do you know why learning this maneuver is so very important?"
"Uhhhhh. The fate of the world or some mellow shit like that?" Nathan ventured.
"No!" said Raziel, suddenly rounding on a surprised Nathan Explosion and pulling him down by the collar so she was nose to nose with him. "It's because I HAVE A BET WITH SARIEL! And I don't lose my fucking wagers. IS THAT CLEAR?"
"Uh. Yes. Ma'am?" said Nathan.
Toki snickered. "AND WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT?" Raziel demanded.
"Oh. I ams listenings to da Mightsies Booshes BBCs programmes ons my iPods."
"Oh, yeah. Boosh! Those guys are classic," agreed Raziel.
"I don't get the Boosch," Murderface grumbled.
"AND DO NOT MOCK BRITISH COMEDY!" Raziel thundered at him.
Murderface grumbled, but muttered as she left, "Their humor isch too abschtrusche."
Orula's dark and scary castle, the Honeymoon Suite....
Except for the stone floors and walls, Orula's honeymoon suite looked like a room at just about any cosy bed and breakfast, with plenty of oddly-chosen knick knacks cluttering the room and collecting more dust and cobwebs.
"You sure you don't wanna shower, Ganesh? They got decorative soaps!" Sariel told him.
Ganesh, sitting up in bed beneath the ruffled bedspread, did not look up from his laptop, but instead grunted in response.
"You can't spend the entire weekend in a bad mood!" Sariel told him.
"You'd be surprised what I can do."
"Ganesh," Sariel said, climbing onto the bed.
"Sariel. I had thought to be spending this time resting on a beach, improving my already pefect tan. And not tangling with a quite mad Footlights veteran."
Sariel moved over to straddle Ganesh's legs and pushed a finger to shut his laptop. “You’re just mad that he went to Cambridge.”
Ganesh glared at him. "And I'm not terribly pleased at giving up our powers, jaanu."
"It's just for the weekend," Sariel explained, putting aside the laptop.
"And... And.... That damned lightning is getting annoying!"
"Uh-huh," said Sariel, removing Ganesh's reading glasses and carefully folding them up. "Know what I brought?"
"What?"
Sariel happily flourished a plastic bottle.
"Baby oil?"
"We'll have to time it perfectly with the lightning flashes," Sariel grinned, rubbing his hands together to warm the oil.
"You are trying to appeal to my baser instincts," Ganesh, who failed to look terribly disapproving as Sariel started rubbing his chest.
"Uh-huh. That usually works."
Quite despite himself, Ganesh smiled.
Ganesh awoke the next day to patches of actual sunshine streaming through the flowery curtains, and in a much-improved mood.
Sariel was not around, but there was a note scribbled on the nightstand. “DOING INITIATION CRAP. GO READ A SHITTY BOOK!” The note was stuck to a well thumbed paperback book: “Savage Love Flame.” The cover featured a poorly rendered oil painting of a fellow with too much hair on his head and not nearly enough on his chest (in Ganesh’s humble opinion) plus some woman hanging off him clad in a rather regrettable dress.
Ganesh chuckled, and, pouring himself a nice cup of tea (a pot had been thoughtfully left on a tray in their room), and began to read. It was trash, of course, but strangely engrossing, if only from an anthropologic point of view. Various articles of clothing were endlessly becoming ripped apart which, given the descriptions, Ganesh supposed, was probably for the best. And ardent aspiring lovers seemed to be forever sweeping each other up in their arms and dashing upstairs, which seemed a poor prelude to lovemaking, especially given the limited stamina that was common to humans. Instead of all the ripping and running, why not instead a nice cocktail, and perhaps some weed, followed by a leisurely walk to a suitable room located conveniently on the same floor?
A few cups and some similar musings later, he heard their suite door rattle, and the sound of someone entering.
“Sariel?” he asked, rising to view the entryway. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I shouldn’t spend our time together in a bad….”
The novel fell to the floor.
Ganesh stood back, gasping in horror.
"THEY SHAVED YOUR HEAD?" he squeaked at Sariel
"It'll grow back," Sariel laughed.
"Your lovely hair,” Ganesh sobbed.
"Ganesh. It's hair. I dunno. I sorta like this," Sariel said, rubbing his head.
"What can be next!" Ganesh fretted. "A porn 'stache?"
"Hey, you grew that fucking beard."
"Hrm. I may grow it back. At least one of us needs body hair. They didn't shave ... anything else, did they?" he fretted.
“They need to draw shit on my head,” Sariel explained, tapping his shaved pate with a finger.
“Why can’t they use a sticky note?"
“You want ‘em to paste sticky notes? On my head?”
They both ceased bickering at the sound of their door handle being rattled.
“If that is Orula then I shall register my displeasure!” Ganesh vowed, striding towards the door. He pulled it open.
And stumbled backwards.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck….” Ganesh muttered.
“What the- OH SHIT!” Sariel exclaimed as the hoard of vile, festering zombies started to shuffle into their honeymoon suite.
Mordhaus….
“Sooooo, you guys wanna tell me what happened this time?” queried Raziel, eyeing the pile of twisted steel that had until quite recently been Dethklok’s giant mecha.
There was a sullen silence, and then Murderface muttered, “Got a phone call.” The rest of the band fixed him with glaring eyes.
“Uh-huh. From whom?” pressed Raziel.
“Don’t gotta tell you,” Murderface muttered.
“I think you can share with the rest of the class!” Raziel lectured.
“Yeh, wut wuz so feckin’ important?” Pickles demanded.
"Yeah, Murderface, why don't you SHARE WITH THE CLASS?" Nathan thundered.
Murderface muttered something.
“What was that?” Raziel asked.
“Gotta message from Luz Magnifica Balaustrada.”
There was a moment of silence. “OH MY GOD THE DAYTIME EMMY AWARD-WINNING PRODUCER OF CORAZON DE AZUL?” Raziel squealed.
"Dood," said Pickles.
Raziel sat down on the grass next to Murderface. "So how do you know Luz Magnifica Balustrada?"
"Her schecond couschin goes to my Schpanish-American War reenactment club."
"Hrm. Well, it seems to me the important thing is.... Can anyone in the class tell us?" asked Raziel.
"CAN SHE GET US TICKETS TO THE LATIN AMERICAN DAYTIME EMMYS?" growled Nathan.
"Exactly," said Raziel.
Orula's dark and scary castle, the Honeymoon Suite....
“Yes, I am truly sorry,” Orula apologized. “That tends to be the problem with the third floor.”
“That and the leaky plumbing!” Chango said, extracting a slightly drooly copy Savage Love Flame paperback from where it had been crammed down a zombie’s throat and handing it off to Ganesh, who somewhat irritably snatched it out of his hand.
“Yes, leaky plumbing and zombie attacks! It’s a hazard. Do you own your own castle, Sariel?”
“Yes, yes I do,” Sariel told him. “We had it built.”
“Oh, yes, had I to do it again, that’s probably what I’d do," Orula confessed.
“Well,” counseled Sariel, “It does have a down side. You gotta deal with a lotta contractors. And everything takes twice as long and costs three times as much as you expect.”
“Ah, but this was a fixer. ENDLESS problems," Orula sighed.
“Money pit, huh?” asked Sariel.
“You have no clue,” Orula told him. He hefted a small soap cake. “Chango, I do think they are out of decorative soaps.”
“Yes,” said Ganesh. “We had to hurl them at the zombies since you TOOK AWAY OUR POWERS!”
“Well, anyway, I was up here to bring you chaps down for a little ceremony type thing. Chango, can you get this tidied up a bit while we’re downstairs?”
“Yes, mahster,” Chango vowed, cheerily waving a dismembered arm at Orula. He had thoughtfully changed into a day glo pink jumpsuit with striking purple fur trim and a matching hat.
“Shouldn’t take long, really,” Orula told them as he departed. “Just a technicality.”
“Oh, no problem," Sariel assured him.
“SARIEL!” Ganesh whispered harshly as Sariel started to follow Orula down the darkened staircase.
“Yeah?”
“Might I point out amid the cheery banter that WE WERE JUST NEARLY EXTERMINATED BY A HOARD OF THE UNDEAD!”
“Aw, but I thought you liked playing VENGEFUL DEAD III: ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE with me?”
“But, yes, one important point, that is a video game! And I am allowed to arm myself with a flaming chainsaw, not a bunch of fucking scented soap cakes!” Ganesh protested, waving a somewhat mangled cake.
“Come on. Do this with me. It’ll just take a minute. And then we’ll spend the rest of the weekend in bed.”
“I wanted to work on my already perfect tan!” Ganesh sulked.
“I will personally cover you with spray tan," Sariel promised.
Ganesh grumbled.
“I will use my tongue.”
“All right. Maybe. But I don’t want to end up looking too orange,” Ganesh sniffed.
Ganesh followed Sariel into a small, darkened room.
It had been laid out as if for a funeral. Including a rather magnificent coffin. There were flowers and lit candles everywhere.
“Who died?” asked Sariel.
“You, my dear,” Orula told him.
“Oh. Cool!”
“Sariel!” said Ganesh.
“Naw, it’s fine, I’ve done this before,” Sariel assured him.
“Now, you just pop right in here,” Orula told him, indicating the coffin, “and we’ll have a little toast to your health,” he continued, holding up a decanter. “Little Ifa joke,” he whispered to Ganesh. “Drink his health. After he’s dead.” He chuckled awkwardly and poked a rather distasteful Ganesh in his ribs.
“I should have brought a darker grey suit,” Sariel commented, cooperatively jumping into the coffin. “OW!” He reached behind his posterior and brought out a pair of machetes.
“Oh, yes, you know, a little token, to take to the afterlife,” Orula said, taking the machetes and carefully laying them back in the bottom of the coffin, one on either side of Sariel.
“The afterlife?” Ganesh asked suspiciously.
"You know. After he's quite dead, that usually follows. Bit of a bore, I find. All right! Bottoms up there!" Orula said, filling Sariel's glass. The angel obediently downed the shot of the greenish liquid.
Sariel's eyes rolled up in his head, and he promptly collapsed back into the coffin.
"Sariel?" Ganesh asked.
"Er, I meant sip slowly," Orula said.
“Sariel? SARIEL!” Ganesh, now feeling the panic rise, shouted. He leaned over the coffin and shook the unresponsive angel.
“I did tell him just a sip,” Orula fretted.
Ganesh felt Sariel's wrist, then his neck. He tore his stethoscope out of a pocket and put it to his ears. He ripped Sariel’s shirtfront open and frantically positioned the sensor on Sariel’s chest, checking in stunned silence for a heartbeat.
There was none.
He turned on Orula, gasping.
"YOU KILLED HIM. YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"
"Oh. May have been a little generous with the secret sauce," Orula allowed.
"Orula. WHEN I GET MY POWERS BACK...."
"Oops, look at the time," said Orula. "Need to nip out for a bit."
"ORULA!" Ganesh grabbed at the Orisha, who had disappeared. He looked at Sariel's lifeless form. He gripped a cold hand, wiping his eyes, so filled with anguish and frustration he could no longer think clearly.
"I finished upstairs. Would you like some light bites?"
Ganesh looked up to see Chango, now clad in a lovely mink wrap, offering him a snack tray.
"Chango! Sariel is DEAD. Orula killed him!"
"Oh. That was unfortunate."
"UNFORTUNATE?"
"Was he insured?"
"Chango, my fiancé is dead!"
"Tsk. Sure you won't have some snacks? Might need to keep your strength up!"
"GODS DAMN IT CHANGO...." But of course, the Orishas disappeared - with a flash of lightning - and taking the snack tray with him.
"Fucking voodoo fucking..." Ganesh cursed.
He heard the shuffling at the door. "Oh what the fuck now. CHANGO! I'm going to-"
The door opened.
Ganesh gawped.
He leapt for the coffin and grabbed one of the machetes laid out by Sariel, dearly wishing he could break out more arms.
And then the vilen shuffling zombie hoard was once again upon him.
And this time, there was absolutely no decorative soap on hand.
Mordhaus....
“Huh,” said Raziel.
“Dat din’t work either,” Pickles told her.
“No, but, you know what I’ve found?”
There was a tremendous crash.
“No, wut?”
“You ALWAYS learn something from your failures!”
“Well. Dat’s a positive attitude.”
“What?” growled Nathan, taking off his motorcycle helmet and sitting beside them.
“Raz is sayin’ dere’s always somethin’ positive about dese failure t’ings.”
“I dunno, Lady Raz,” Nathan growled. “A POSITIVE ATTITUDE? Doesn’t sound very BRUTAL!”
“Well, maybe you can always find something metal too!” she told him.
“Huh,” said Nathan. “I didn’t think of it that way.”
There was a scream as a Klokateer whose hood had caught fire ran screaming by, as another Klokateer chased him with a fire extinguisher.
“I mean, look at the carnage!" said Raziel.
"Yeah, I guess all the destruction is kind of brutal," Nathan allowed.
"It ams convinces you of da pointlessness of existences!" Skwisgaar told them, his helmet under one arm.
"So, uh...." Nathan reasoned. "Twisted metal ... IS METAL?"
All nodded.
"Hey, Nathan," Raziel asked, "Do you have ANY IDEA where your Krokku Cycle landed last time?"
Nathan shrugged. "It's gotta come back down some time, right? RIGHT?"
Meanwhile back at the creepy castle, where Sariel is still dead....
The twisted remains of several zombies lay at Ganesh’s feet.
Unfortunately, the gore was making the floor slippery, and it was just a matter of time before Ganesh, fighting off a seemingly inexhaustible hoard of the undead, slipped and fell, the machete clattering on the floor, just out of his reach. He slid back on the floor, as the newer, more intact arrivals slowly began to swarm him. For the last time, he feared.
It was unimaginable, really. He should have been able to pop out a dozen extra arms and cut through the slow-witted creatures like butter. But he had given up his powers to that slick motherfucker Orula, and now he was going to die, along with his unfortunate fiancé, leaving their only son an orphan.
His entire body was wracked in sorrow, thinking of his child. How he wanted to hold him, just one last time. And tell him everything would be all right.
A particularly large and awful-looking zombie loomed over him, leering.
"Elias," he shouted, stupidly. "I love you, Boon."
The zombie grunted in undead surprise.
Ganesh stared in wonder.
It had a machete tip poking through its chest.
The machete withdrew, and the zombie collapsed on top of Ganesh, who, shuddering, pushed the foul thing off of him.
"SARIEL!"
The angel stood, mad grin on his face, flourishing a machete. He grabbed the other blade Ganesh had dropped and, turning without a word, began a blindingly fast obliteration of the room's other undead occupants. Ganesh sat, too astonished to even pretend to offer aid, as a blur of metal sent limbs and heads and guts squishing sickly across the room. It was crazy. No one should have been able to move that fast, not even a god.
And then, finally, there was silence.
Sariel happily tossed the blades aside and crouched down beside Ganesh.
"Sariel!” Ganesh said, gratefully touching his face. “The drug must have slowed your heart! Are you recovered?"
Sariel didn't reply, but instead swept Ganesh into a rather long, rather passionate kiss.
"Well," said Ganesh when the clinch finally broke. "I gather you are somewhat recover-"
But he got no further, as Sariel suddenly scooped him up into his arms, and then carried him out of the room and up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Mordhaus....
"Why duz feckin' Toki always doo it perfectly?" Pickles grumbled, shaking himself out of the remains of his once again totaled Octo-poddu.
"I dunno," mused Raziel.
"Feckin teacher's pet!" Pickles yelled, as Toki touched down perfectly in his Usagi Hoppa.
"Ja?" Toki asked agreeably."
"Toki?" asked Raziel.
"Whats?"
"Toki!"
"Whats!"
"TOKI! TURN DOWN YOUR FUCKING IPOD!"
"Oh. Ja." The guitarist grinned and tooki out his Nano.
"Hey, Toki, let me see that," Raziel said. He handed her the device, and she scrolled down the playlist. "Do you always listen to this when you do the transformation?" she asked.
"Ja. Sure. Ams brutals playlist. Ums. Maybes excepts for da Amy Grants?"
"Huh. So, you can do the transform perfectly while you listen to this playlist?" Toki nodded happily. Raziel looked at Pickles. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Pickles nodded. "Yeh, but Charles jest broke ground fer da Shinkansen, I dunno if we'd be able t' talk him into building' da secret moon base."
"Damn!" said Raziel. "Really? Can't that guy do more than one thing at once?"
Pickles shrugged. "Well, he does have kid now."
"That's true," said Raziel.
"I ams has da ideas!" Toki interjected.
"Yeh? Wut's yer idea, Toki?" Pickles asked.
"I ams crochets da lovelies shawl dat looks like da angels wingses!"
"Oooo, that's such a cute idea!" Raziel agreed.
"An' practical," noted Pickles.
"And I ams calls it ... da Tokis shawl!"
"We have such good ideas!" Raziel enthused, as a bit of Nathan's charred Krokku Cycle fell from where it had landed one of Mordhaus' dragon spires and nearly squashed them all.
"Oh, so dat's where dat t'ing ended up!" said Pickles.
The creepy non-tropical castle....
Ganesh awoke. He shook his head.
Sariel was on top of him, kissing him passionately.
"Jaanu?" Ganesh muttered. "Sariel? Sariel? SARIEL!!"
The angel blinked dumbly at him.
"All right, dear?" Ganesh said, forcibly restraining Sariel. "I never thought I should say this to you. Or, er, any living being. It has been...." He consulted the clock by the bedside. "Forty-eight hours. More or less. Since you carried me up here? I believe I might need to eat something? Eat?"
Sariel nodded enthusiastically, and began to kiss Ganesh's chest and down his stomach. Ganesh wrested him back.
“Er. I mean. Food? Eat food!"
Sariel looked at him. And then disappeared.
"Don't you want to put on trousers..." ventured Ganesh. He sighed. "Well, at least one of us has his powers back I suppose.
And then Sariel was back on top of him, only now wielding a tremendous tray of food.
"Oh, well, er, isn't this nice," said Ganesh. "I was thinking maybe we could sit-" But Sariel had forked some food into Ganesh's mouth. "You really don't need to-" More food. "Well, it's awfully courteous of you dear." Sariel chomped on a huge bite of food and then kissed Ganesh, who found the wad of food transferred to his own mouth.
"Uh-huh," Ganesh said, frantically holding Sariel back. "Er. And. You know what else I need? TEA! Yes, I very much need a cup of tea. BUT!" he added, catching Sariel's wrist. "It needs to be Darjeeling. LOOSE TEA! And, er, steeped precisely four minutes! In a china pot! With, er, flowers on it!”
Sariel disappeared again, and Ganesh, after a moment, rose rather unsteadily to his feet and, shrugging into a robe, slowly made his way to the washroom, where he turned the sink on full and splashed water into his face. He looked into the mirror and started.
"Jacque!" he said, whirling around.
"So, what the fuck do you--GAHHH!" Jacque said as he was seized by the neck by a furious Ganesh.
"You nearly killed him you motherfucker!" Ganesh cried.
"It's part of the fucking ceremony!"
"I DIDN'T KNOW THAT!"
"Well, I couldn't very fucking well give it away!"
"I DESPAIRED FOR HIS LIFE!"
"You needed to for the fucking magic to work!"
"If I had my powers, you'd be a FUCKING STAIN ON THE FUCKING CARPET RIGHT NOW JACQUE!" Ganesh shouted to the empty air.
"You don't have you powers back, Ganesh? Damn, you are one strong little cocksucker,” said Jacque, who had suddenly appeared at the other end of the room.
"Jacque!"
"What brought him back?
"What the fuck do you mean?" Ganesh asked.
"What was the fucking word? That brought him back?"
Ganesh stopped fuming and thought for a moment. "I... I called to our son."
"Oh! What words? Did you say Sen Michel?"
"I didn't call him that, Jacque. No one calls him that."
"What did you say, boy?"
"I called for Elias. But then I called him Boon. We all call him Boon. It's not even his proper name."
"Ah! Boon. A power word. Good. Who Named him Boon, anyway?"
"What? Lady Raziel started to call him that. She tends to make up nicknames."
"The Queen has Naming power! I wouldn't have suspected. She's a bit of a fucking ne'er-do-well in my universe. Of course, so are you!"
Ganesh frowned. "Boon isn't a Sacred Name, Jacque. It's just a nickname. Everyone calls him that."
"Now. There's Power Names no one knows, and there's Names that get their power form everyone using them. It's a different kind of magic."
'Magic. Jacque! I need to get my magic back. And, how long is Sariel going to remain ... like that?"
"Like what?"
"We've been in this bedroom - in that bed - for the past two days straight."
"And you're complainin'?"
"I need my powers back. I am quite starting to quite run dry."
"Ah. Should be another day or two, he'll be fine. Though, come to think of it, when I did my initiation, it was a time when I had three wives. I'll go talk to my boy!"
"I don't think he's in the mood for talking!" Ganesh warned. But Jacque was already gone. Ganesh shook his head, and returned to the bedroom.
"Oh. Sariel." The angel was grinning and holding a tray with a little flowered ceramic teapot.
To Ganesh's astonishment, Sariel spoke. "I got tea! Just the way you wanted it!"
"All right," said Ganesh, taking the tray and setting it on the bedside table. "You, er, are feeling better?"
"I feel GREAT!"
"Oh. Well. That's good," said Ganesh, pouring out some tea. It really did smell delicious. "That's nice."
"I spoke to Jacque!"
"Yes, he was just here, in fact," Ganesh told him, gratefully sipping tea. "He said-"
"He told me how to get your powers back!"
"Oh? OH!"
And then there was Darjeeling tea, everywhere.
Mordhaus....
Having temporarily exhausted Kitsune's store of extra mecha devices, Lady Raziel and Nathan Explosion had retired to Mordhaus to play Mega Excellent Zombie Killah III.
"We paid a lot of money for this MECHA SHIT, right?" Nathan grumbled.
"Sorry, I don't really concern myself with that kinda stuff," Raziel told him.
"Oh. 'Cause human money doesn't make sense to you supernatural guys?"
"Nah. Because my husband's loaded," Raziel told him, taking out an entire hoard of undead with a machine gun.
"But why don't they build this robot shit like they would in AMERICA?" Nathan grumbled. "You know, NO ASSEMBLY REQUIRED?"
"Well," said Raziel, "The HENSHIN sequence is a very important element of mecha fighting. It's very dramatic, with exciting music playing..."
"Wait. You're supposed to play music?" Nathan asked.
"Oh, yes, all the super teams have their own rousing theme song!"
"Bwa-ha-ha! I killed your last zombie! I won I won!"
"Wait, Lady Raziel! We're Dethklok! WE'RE MUSICIANS!"
"Well, you're obviously not video game aces."
"Why don't we do the Benson stuff..."
"HENSHIN!"
"To fucking music?"
Raziel stood and thought. "Huh. How long you think it would take you guys to come up with theme music?"
"Us? Working at our normal speed? Uhhhhhhh. About three and a half years."
Raziel looked at him. "That might be pushing it."
"Huh," said Nathan.
"But you know," she mused, "Toki has a playlist....."
"A playtlist? For Wenching?"
"Henshin!"
"IS IT BRUTAL?" Nathan inquired.
"Uhhhhhh......"
The creepy castle, around tea time....
Ganesh was sprawled on the bed, pleasantly entangled in angel wings.
"Mmmm," he said.
"Your powers all back?" Sariel asked.
Ganesh flicked his fingers, exploding some tacky knick knacks on Orula's shelf.
"Mmmm. Yes. But your hair isn't," Ganesh said, rubbing a hand over Sariel's stubbly head.
"OK. You get to do that exactly once, and then you lose a hand."
"I have ones to spare," Ganesh grinned, flourishing several of the same.
Sariel grabbed the alarm clock on the nightstand. "We should maybe think about getting UUUUUU-" He found himself suddenly grabbed by quite a few spare hands and thrown down on the bed.
"Not yet, I think. You've had your fun. Now I quite intend to have mine," Ganesh told him.
Sariel grinned and lobbed the alarm clock across the room, where it burst apart, scattering springs and gears across the stone floor.
Mordhaus….
"Hey. You're late," said Raziel, consulting her watch.
“Yeah.”
“Two days late, to be exact," she told him.
"We were having a pretty good time. But we had to leave. We sort of broke Orula's Honeymoon Suite."
"Did you?"
"Yep." Sariel grinned.
"What happened to the hair? You didn’t try to magick it green or something?”
"Voudoun."
"Ah. Can I-?"
"You can do it once. And after that, you lose your fucking hand." Sariel leaned over, and Raziel rubbed his head.
"Ooo, that's cool!" she said. "You should leave it like that!"
"Naw. Ganesh hates it."
"He grew that stupid beard!"
"Well, that's what I told him," Sariel agreed.
"And?"
"He threatened to grow a porn 'stache this time."
"Hrm. Yes, I see the problem. Well, you wanna see?" Raziel asked.
"Fuck yeah."
"All right, troops," Raziel barked.
"What's?" inquired Toki.
"We're gonna transform so Charles can see. OK?"
"Cans I chews da gums?"
"Yes, you can chew gum."
Sariel frowned skeptically while Toki ran to mount his rabbit-y mecha, the Usagi Hoppa.
"All right, everybody, mounted? I mean in your goddam robot, Skwisgaar," Raziel yelled over the comm link. "Then on my mark, START PLAYLIST OMEGA OZZY!"
"Playlist?" Sariel asked.
Raziel covered her mouthpiece. "Nathan named it," she whispered. Then into the microphone, "Tigah Car, Usagi Hoppa, HENSHIN!". And Murderface and Toki's robots swiftly converted to two legs.
"Octu-poddu, HENSHIN!" Pickles' mecha swiftly scrambled up on the legs to become the body and right arm.
"Krokku Cycle, HENSHIN!". And with that, Nathan's vehicle transformed into a right arm featuring a very large fist and clanked in place.
"Almost there," Raziel whispered. "Hawkku Coptah, HENSHIN!"
Skwisgaar performed a perfect landing to become the robot's bird-like head.
"Whoa," said Sariel, who was honestly impressed.
"Wait wait wait wait wait!" Raziel chirped. "One last thing!" She shouted into the mike, "Mega Taser Powah!"
The giant mecha suddenly produced the huge electrical weapon developed by the annoying scientist guys. It flourished it, and then pulled back, as it it were playing the taser like a low slung Gibson.
Raziel looked up to the hand clamped to her shoulder. She looked over to Sariel, who held out between his fingers one crisp American dollar.
"Just one thing," Raziel noted, snatching the bill and holding it up to the light to study the watermark.
"What's that?"
"NEVER ask what's on this playlist. Gotta get back to the kids," she said, pulling him on the collar to give him a peck on the cheek, and then a very swift head rub.
"What playlist?" he asked. But she had disappeared.
"Dude!" Nathan called, removing his helmet. "Wasn't that FUCKING BADASS?"
"Nathan, that was...."
"But don't you schay badassch," Murderface warned.
Toki popped out of his vehicle, in his excitement forgetting that his headphones were jacked in. They popped out with a snap, and you could clearly hear his stereo playing softly.
"Baby baby, I'm taken with the notion...."
"No, I absolutely promise you, I will not say badass," Sariel grinned.
"Dood, wut happened to yer hair?" Pickles asked.
"You get to do it once. ONCE!" Sariel sighed as a grinning Pickles rubbed his head. "This was part of the initiation."
"What initiation?" Nathan grumbled.
"My initiation? That's why I was away."
"You were away?" asked Nathan.
"I was away."
"Oh. For the whole weekend?"
"For a long weekend, yeah."
"Did we pay you for it?" Nathan asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
"Nathan. I have about three years vacation saved up at this point."
"Three years? Didn't you reset when you were dead?"
"Well, yes, but I just died again, and the rules are you get it all back," Sariel explained.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Really." Sariel looked around, frowning. “Where is Skwisgaar, anyway?”
Somewhere….
The dark man waited outside the residence. He held between two elegant fingers a thin cigarette, which he was currently letting burn to ash.
“I t’ink you ams not bes welcomed here no mores.”
He looked up to see the tall blond looking down at him.
“I think you might be right,” he said agreeably. He gestured, and the blond sat down on the ornamental bench next to him, beside the gorgeous pool of still standing water.
A pair of servant girls walked by. They were quite lovely, as were all who lived and worked here. But they looked at the two men, sitting quietly on the bench, giggled softly to one another, and quickly scurried away.
There was another presence, standing in back of them.
"You think to keep us apart with your childish maneuvering again, Ganesha?"
"Actually, I find I no longer much care. I would simply like to be left in peace to raise my son." He flicked his cigarette ashes. He listened for a time to his mother's harsh breathing. "The things you wish to say to me, there is no way to say them gracefully, is there? It is a common occurrence when thoughts are ugly."
Skwisgaar had stood up, visibly uncomfortable, at the sound of Parvati's voice, but Ganesh remained seated, facing away from her.
"What you have done to our House. To our bloodline," Parvati said.
"I've given you an heir. How am I not being a dutiful son?"
"You of all people should know about angels! You fought them! You killed them! And then you take one to your bed, just to slap your father...."
"Mother, you know full well that isn't the reason...."
"And then you produce ... this abomination! I won't have our house run by a Nephal!"
"A Nephal? Mother! Sariel is half god himself!"
"Yes! The Vodouisants! They are not honorable!"
"Ogoun Sen Jacque has little use for honor. He is wealthy."
"And what is the source of that wealth?"
"What was the source of ours?" Ganesh demanded, suddenly turning on the seat to face her. He was a bit taken aback. The scars that had laced one side of his mother's lovely face had faded, but he noticed, in her fury, a light red web lightly traced her expression.
"Did you come here seeking approval?" Parvati asked him. "You Named your child without even consulting me! You took over the family business without my say!"
"Since when have you been interested in anything about the Eastern Kingdom save the amount of your monthly allowance," Ganesh sniffed.
"You love having that power over me, don't you?" Parvati told him.
Ganesh scowled and blew smoke.
"You shouldn't smoke," Parvati told him. "It's a filthy habit. And you have a child now."
"Does Skwisgaar know why you have him here?" Ganesh asked, changing tack.
"I ams here because I ams wants to be here. Ams nots your business," Skwisgaar threatened, albeit a bit uncertainly.
"Skwisgaar, Parvati is taking on young lovers in hopes of producing a nice, fat little Aryan heir," Sariel informed them. He stood in front of the bench, a curious Elias on one hip.
"WHATS?" asked Skwisgaar, looking between Sariel and Parvati, whose face was laced in red.
"Sariel," said Ganesh, finally standing. "What are you doing here?"
"I was feeling a bit left out of the Eastern Kingdom bickering. Lady Parvati, this is Ganesh's kid. Your grandkid," he told her. "I figured you should maybe at least meet him before you start calling him names," Sariel told her.
"Since whens you ams wantsing a kid, Parvatis? You didn't tells me dats," Skwisgaar grumbled.
"Sariel is just using lies again to keep us apart," Parvati told him.
"Am I?" asked Sariel.
"Parvatis, I can't haves da kids! I ams in troubles wit' da Norns," Skwisgaar confessed.
"What?" asked Parvati. "You didn't tell me you had a Norn curse!"
"You didn't ams tells me you wants to gets knocksed ups!"
"Communication," Sariel told Elias. "It's the secret to a relationship." Elias smiled and flapped his wings.
"You deny you're seeking another child, Mother," Ganesh said sadly.
"Preferably somebody who won't embarass you by going wings out at an Eastern Kingdom board meeting," Sariel laughed.
"Someone you can manipulate. Like you used to do with my brother," Ganesh concluded.
"Tell me, because you seem to know all, Ganesha, why I do not simply have a seat on the board," Parvati sniffed.
Ganesh started to speak, but then closed his mouth.
"It is, as you say, my allowance," Parvati added.
"You must admit, your mom has a bit of that killer instinct, Ganesh," Sariel told him.
"Sariel," Ganesh said, turning to him. "I do not want Boon here! I do not wish him to hear this ... business.
"Why not?" Sariel asked. "This is Boon's dysfunctional family!"
"Boon?" Parvati asked. "Is that what you just called him?"
"Everybody ams calls him dats," Skwisgaar said. "You ams not knows dis, Parvatis?"
Parvati scowled. "No," she said. "I thought Brahma Named him after himself!"
"Does he seem a Brahma to you?" Ganesh asked her, gathering Elias into his arms. The tiny angel looked up at his father.
"No." Parvati stared at the child for a time. She swallowed. "He seems very like you. At that age."
Ganesh, who was on the verge of making another harsh remark, stopped. "He is, actually. Rather like me. Rather disappointingly like me."
"Perhaps he is not such a disappointment," Parvati said. They stood in silence for a time. "It is not polite for me to keep my guests in my courtyard. Please come inside everyone. Everyone," she said, looking over at Ganesh. "We will ... have conversation."
With a range of dubiousness in their expressions, the men exchanged looks, and then followed the goddess as she walked towards her residence.
"What has happened to your hair, Honored Sariel?" she asked, regarding the angel.
"OK," he explained. "You get to do it ONCE, and then you lose your hand!"
Parvati's light but musical laughter echoed in the courtyard.