GREEN
262
0
1986 11.13 KB 152
1986 11.13 KB 152
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=Am I Evil 2=
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>Sleep…Sleep was great.
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>Life in a rock band was draining both on and offstage, so you relished the sleep you could get when you could.
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>When you weren’t being smacked, that is.
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>”Get up, get up, get up, get up!” someone cries.
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>You groan and wince and roll away from the source of the smacking as you come to.
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“Hanh? Whu? Whut’s the problem?”
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>You roll over bare-assed to the girl smacking you.
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“Oh…hey there babe it was…uh…”
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>Come on, you know this.
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“…Flitter! Yes, Flitter.”
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>”You can’t be here right now, okay? You need to go right now.”
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>Pffffffffft.
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“Nah nah! Let’s stay in!”
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>You sit up and blink a few times.
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“I make a mean eggs and bacon, come on, my treat.”
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>You weren’t good for much else in the mornings.
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>Flitter throws your shirt and pants at you and puts her own top on.
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>”No, see, my boyfriend is on his way over so that means you need to leave!”
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>Leave? You’re still waking up.
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“I don’t remember anything last night about a boyfriend.”
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>Flitter dashes off the bed and opens the window. “Yes! Well, the schnaps will do that.”
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>Oh so that’s what that taste was.
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>”Come on, up and at ‘em!” she says, pulling you off the bed to your feet.
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“Ah well he can come, I’ll set the table.”
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>You heard someone banging on a door at the front of the house. “Yo, Flitter! You up?”
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>You snap your fingers and smile with one foot out the door.
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“See? I was right, he said Flitter.”
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>Flitter laughs which lets you get in close and plant one on her while you both ignore the pounding on the door.
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>Once your other leg is out the window you leave Flitter to her boyfriend and haul it into the tree line where you can put on your pants.
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>An hour or so later, you’re walking down the road in town looking out for The White Bell.
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>After-shows always had a habit of splitting the band up for their own adventures so you’d come up with the idea to all meet at a local pub once you all regained consciousness a long time ago.
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>You head inside and find Sombra lounging at a table while Chrysalis sits behind him off in her own world with a guitar.
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>”Salutations, Anonymous.” He says, raising his glass.
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“Hey Sombra.”
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>You head over and take a seat next to him.
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“Where are the others?”
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>”Artemis is spending time with his sister and Eris is off getting groceries for this week.”
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>You nod and grab a beer out of the box.
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“What was her name this time?” Sombra asks.
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“Flitter. And you’re one to talk.”
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>”I wasn’t scolding you, I was asking so I could find out who to avoid.” He takes a sip of his beverage. “Anyone who’d invite you into her home clearly has something wrong with her.”
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“Douche.”
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>”Cry more, Anon.”
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>You point back to Chrysalis, eyes closed and head down as she plays a complex rhythm.
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“What’s she up to?”
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>”Composing. There wasn’t a spare room.”
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>You look around the bar and find it empty save one dude in a trenchcoat drinking at this hour.
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“…What –day- is it?”
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>Sombra looks the same way you are and is quiet for a moment. “…Wednesday?”
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>You nod.
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“Explains this place…”
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>On queue to prove you wrong, two young boys run into the pub and ask the barkeep for two sodas.
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>You feel Sombra roll his eyes next to you.
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>”Little boys should be in class.” He says.
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>One of them looks over his shoulder back at you two. “Old dead kings should be under glaciers.”
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“Ooooohhhhhh.”
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>You snicker.
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>Sombra just snarls and drinks his beer again. “Kids these days, no respect.”
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“Ignore my friend here, he’s bitter.”
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>The two kids walk over to you drinking their sodas.
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“What’re you two doing here?”
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>”Skippin’ class.”
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>You nod.
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>”You gonna tell?”
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>You feel Sombra bristle a bit but speak first.
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“No? I aint a truant officer, you’re not my problem.”
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>The two look down at your gear in boxes around the table. “What are ya, then?”
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“We’re in a band.”
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>”Like a marching band?”
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>”Like a heavy metal band.” Sombra says.
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>The two boys look at each other. “My mom says that heavy metal was evil music that got banned for a reason.”
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>Oh lord, this again.
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>You wave your hand.
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“That’s all crap and lies, no one tells the real story these days.”
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>”Weeeell what’s that?” the one asks.
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>You lean back and think. Technically it might be against crown orders to tell this…but you have a prince in your pocket. You look to Sombra and shrug, getting one in return.
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>…Fuck it.
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“Chrys, some ambience music please? I’m gonna tell these boys the history of our craft.”
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>Chrysalis plucks at the strings on your spare guitar as you lean forward to regale the youths.
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“In the beginning…there was The Wasteland, a land of dull and rock and scrub. Wandering these wastes were two Immortals, Tirek and Grogar.”
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>One of the boys smacks the other on the arm. “I know those names!”
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>You nod.
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“A-huh, the big buys themselves. Tirek and Grogar wandered the Wasteland since time immemorial.”
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>”Some say they saw the slaying of the God of Fear in the primordial world.” Sombra chimes in.
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“Tirek and Grogar once grew tired of the dullness of their world and challenged one another to a contest.”
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>”What kinda contest?”
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>Sombra leans forward like you. “The only contests beings like them could have, a contest of metal.”
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”Tirek reached deep into the earth and fashioned a might axe, with twenty strings and three necks and a sick whammy bar. He played a song so righteous that his chords cracked the ground, and his screams echoed around the world.”
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>The two boys eyes widen and the nod.
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>”But Grogar was a crafty one.” Sombra says. “And Tirek gave him an opening. He sung his litany and let it seep into the cracks and trenches Tirek’s music had dug, until it reached the ears of the dead things insde, under the ground. Grogar’s dirge was so powerful that it reanimated the bones of the beasts and beings who had fallen in the Wasteland in the past and dragged them to the surface where they joined in their master’s terrible wailing chorus.”
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“The louder Tirek played, the louder Grogar and his hoard wailed, until not a living thing on the planet could not hear them. So great was their fury and so majestic their sound, that the energy being released by their battle tore open a hole in the world so deep that it shook the planet itself.”
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>The boys look at you in anticipation.
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“…You call that hole, The Breach.”
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>”No way!” they exclaim.
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>”What happened next, mister?”
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>You nod and sip your beer.
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“The primitive races of the world, seeking to save themselves from the clashing titans, banded together and raised an army a million strong to attempt to defeat the two while their battle raged.”
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>You make slashing motions with your arms.
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“They cut through the army of skeletons and reached Grogar first, where six of their strongest mages did battle with him for six days and six nights, eventually driving Grogar into one of the canyons Tirek had carved.”
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>”When Grogar was at the bottom of the canyon, the remainder of the army began to throw the bones of Grogar’s minions down with their master, burying him up to the horns on his head, which Grogar considered a symbol of his power, which Tirek hacked off with his mighty axe.”
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“Weakened and having lost the battle, the six mages harmonized themselves and banished Grogar from life. He was now as dead as it was possible to be, not even trapped in some other realm.”
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>The boys gush again. “Six! Just like-“
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>”No way, you think?”
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>”It’s gotta be the elements, it’s gotta!”
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>You wave your hands.
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“Hold up little guys, not done yet.”
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>They both shut the hell up and give you their now undivided attention.
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“Grogar, his task done, looked around at the world that had been ravaged by his power and allowed a single nuclear tear to fall from his face.”
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>”That tear fell into through the world through the hole Tirek and Grogar’s battle had caused until it settled near the other side and began emanating the mourning God’s power, filling the new cracks in the world with a fraction of it and forming the magical leylines that grip the earth today.”
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“Tirek had never wanted his power, his metal, to destroy but empower. So it was with a heavy heart that he surrendered to the primeval races. The primeval races were worthy of Tirek’s trust and show leniency for his peaceful surrender, together with Tirek they locked him away behind the gates of Tartarus where he would remain until the world was recovered enough to endure his presence again, guarded by the beast Cerberus.”
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>”But then…” Sombra says.
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>”Then what?”
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“The creatures above had not seen Tirek’s sacrifice, only experienced his metal, noise, and fire. They feared the results of more of this music that had nearly shattered their world and so they forbid it from being played, taught, or spoken of lest it bring another calamity.”
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>”Instead they fostered a new kind of…” Sombra gulps down disgust. “music” that would be the antithesis of Tirek and Grogar’s metal. Saccharine songs as far from that power as they could be.”
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>”Is that why I have to take Spontaneous Song and Dance classes?” one boy asks.
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>”The very reason, boy.”
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>You lean back and put your hands behind your head.
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“And now you know the secret history of metal…never gonna hear that in any book.”
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>”If metal was banned, where did you guys learn it?”
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>You nod, that was a decent question.
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“Tirek is below us, in Tartarus, but his words can echo through the cracks in the ground and sometimes reach the surface where they become hieroglyphics. That’s where the first ones learned it.”
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>”Not me.”
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>You blink twice.
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>”I studied Grogar’s books in Tambelon like I’m supposed to.”
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“YeswellgoodforyouSombra.” You snap out.
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>Sombra smirks and the boys still smile.
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“So what now, dudes? Not a lot of people know this info.”
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>The two boys look at each other, eyes wide with excitement.
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>”Let’s go break your piggy bank and buy a guitar!” one cries.
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>”Yeah!” the other returns.
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>The two boys turn on their heels and haul ass out of the pub down the street.
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>Sombra chuckles next to you. “Well Anon we made two bright young stars quit their studies to become rock stars.”
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“Sounds like just another day for Evil King Sombra and his friend from another reality.”
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>Sombra chuckles a throaty chuckle and sips his drink while a thought comes to you.
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“Shit, who gave Eris the list?”
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>”Chrysalis, why.”
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“Hey Chrys-“
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>You start reaching your arm back before you stop yourself and retract it. It was best…not to bother her while she was composing.
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“Did you tell Eris to get condoms?”
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>Sombra’s face drops to the floor. “…Think she’ll get them on her own?”
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>The two of you look at each other for a moment before saying “No.” in unison.
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“Let’s go get some fucking condoms.”
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>You and Sombra rise to your feet and grab your coats and beer to go prevent any bastard children from ruining your tour, leaving Chrysalis in her zone to compose her next lyrical masterpiece.
by Mandroid
by Mandroid
by Mandroid
by Mandroid
by Mandroid