The Flye Nowes Oph Thy Journee. Treade Quicklee and Be Carefulle, Lest Thou Parishe.
Thomas, can you please hold all my calls, I'm busy.
*walks his fingers across the table and sticks his whole hand in a pie.*
@mr-crawleigh
@lower-management
@pissylittlebirdboy
*they walk past and stop in their track*
Are you the one I waz- what are you doing-?
*His eyes are tracking a brisket that Jesus is carrying across the room.*
I'm sorry, did you say something?
*He licks a trail of cream that had been sliding down his arm and sucks each of his pie covered fingers one by one.*
@one-coming-is-enough
@lower-management I haven't seen this kind of gluttony since William Howard Taft. I'm just a little stunned.
Barbequed ox coming up!
Don't ya worry Bozz. I'll be in the throne room finizshing paperwork till he finizshez.
*He snaps his fingers again.* Garçon! Wine!
*Several attractive waiters appear.*
*He pops several excedrin in his mouth for his headache and gulps them down with the wine.*
Not sure if I've got the meat sweats or it's just the detox.
*He wipes his brow.*
Thank you, Jesus! *His shaking hands reach for the ox ribs.*
@one-coming-is-enough
Homie, you... You don't look well.
Here's a glass of seltzer water and a wafer-thin mint. Take a little break -- you are still partially mortal, y'know?
You're gonna regret walking through Treachery if you have indigestion.
*He pauses a moment just staring at the food. His messy fingers tracing seductive little circles of cranberry sauce onto the tablecloth. It looked not unlike what one might arrive at were one signing a document in blood.*
Thomas?
*His breathing grows momentarily heavy.*
Come here, handsome.
@mr-crawleigh
Are we meant to be mixing sins?
...Gluttony is really your favorite, isn't it.
*cradles Angelo's face in his hands*
Darling, I'm not supposed to help you overcome the tests and temptations of any level. But I don't have to dig you in further.
Do you remember why you're here?
Chicken! *He says this as though it's obvious.*
*Angelo Takes Thomas hand from his cheek and drags Thom's fingers through a merengue pie. As he licks his boyfriends fingers he continues his thought.*
I mean. *Lick*
A bird... Right?
Mmmm...
Close.
Were you perhaps here to help somebody?
Not that I mind you licking my fingers with that velvety tongue.
*He sucks Thom's finger a moment in thought.*
Helping? I do like helping...
And second helping...
And third helping.
*He snaps his fingers.*
Garçon!
*The three scantily clad waiters rush to his side.*
Thom. Let's do the Lady and the Tramp thing!
*He looks at the waiters.*
Garçon. Spaghetti please.
*He pats one on the head and the waiter yips and wiggles a little before joining his fellows.
Angelo gives Thom's fingers another dip through the merengue.*
Thom. When I got here I swear there was a dog with three heads but I snapped my fingers and now... poof! These guys.
Perhaps it's your talent at transfiguration. Deity-given? No, rather, deity-inherited.
Regardless...
What a delightful idea.
*holds his meringue fingers up for Angelo to lick*
A plate of romantic spaghetti, and then we'll be on our way?
*Angelo leans closer and licks one of Thom's fingers.*
On our way? But where would we possibly want to go?
*He engages himself with another of Thom's fingers.*
*The cerberus waiters deliver the spagetti and pour them both more wine.*
*Angelo produces a fork for Thomas. He's not sure where he got it. It was just suddenly there. He gestures for Thom to take the first bite.*
I can't think of anywhere if you can't, darling.
*gazes into his lover's eyes*
*takes a bite*
*suddenly feels horribly guilty*
*slurps up a strand of spaghetti anyway*
*For a moment Angelo just stares at him. He's feeling a feeling, but it's hard to know which one. A lot of the feelings He's been having have felt the same but crooked. Like he's a slightly tilted painting on a wall. A painting of himself for someone else to look at and rub their hands together thinking about. He shakes his head.*
My Thom. *He manifests a fork and begins to eat.*
*takes another look at the spaghetti*
*it's worms*
Oh.
Well, don't say anything.
But we've been here for a while...
Hey, @angelo-rib-shack ! Fresh plate of mashed potatoes for you!
At least that's going to be hopefully less gross than the spaghetti ala Lost Boys.
*Angelo has made eye contact with Thomas. This is dramatic because Angelo does not DO eye contact. His hand is gripping his fork so tightly that he is creating little crescent moon's of pain in his palms where his nails are digging in. He reaches his fork in and continues eating the "spaghetti".*
If you... *He swallows.* If you eat faster it squirms less.
*He licks the plate, still with his gaze fixed on Thomas. His hands are shaking more now.*
Phesant.
*This thought does not appear to be related to what he is doing. He whimpers. He has brought the fork back up to his mouth but there is nothing on it to eat. With tears in his eyes he sticks the fork into his open mouth and shoves it down his own throat.
He chokes for only a moment, and then reaches for his mashed potatoes.*
Delicious. *His tone makes this almost sound like a question.*
Easy. The oxrib bones hurt.
*He contemplates the potatoes. A new fork manifests beside him. For a moment he paws at it like a cat playing with a mouse, finally gripping it tightly like the previous.
Thomas, *He was now staring transfixed at his potatoes.*
Thom?
*His head tilts and his fork is moving now, shaping the potatoes.*
Thom I...
*His free hand reaches for his empty plate which he absentmindedly takes a gravely bite out of.*
If you stay I... I...
*He stops talking for a moment and takes another bite of fine china.*
I wanted to... *A tear rolls down his cheek.*
To... to bite you.
*He swallows*
Scrumptious Thom.
*He smears sauce across his face in an attempt to wipe away tears. He exhales a determined breath and focuses his attention on the potatoes, stopping only to eat a handfull here and there. Satisfied, he shows Thom his masterpiece.*
This means something.
*He sighs and slams a desperate fist against the table.*
That was...
Absolutely terrifying.
Please never stick a fork down your throat again. At least we're somewhere you can't really do permanent damage to your mortal body...
Think, darling. Who's the peacock? What does he mean to you?
*With two fists against the table Angelo stares at the potato peacock. He rests his chin on the table in front of it.*
He... I know him.
*He opens his mouth and leans closer to the potatoes. He licks it.*
And that is your brain on Gluttony, ladies and gentlemen. Scary shit.
I don't want to see what you do with Greed, so I'm gonna just lump that in with your score of "Do Not Serve" over here.
Ready for another test, or do you need more time to think? Please don't start trying to eat again, that was the worst.
@angelo-rib-shack
A scream echoes through the place. Something like, “Dear gods, please, no, someone, help me, save me - I’ll do anything, just please, save me from myself.”
a single fly buzzes and lands on the peacock’s eye, burrowing into the potato. It takes a bite and the sculpture turns to maggots.
Oh...
Ulysses...
*Angelo's trembling hands pick up the plate of maggots. He let's out a strangled sob. His eyes say no but he
JUST
CAN'T
STOP.
Once It's ordered, it has to be eaten.
Weeping, he dumps the maggots in his mouth and gobbles them up. He buries his face in his hand and his shoulders heave with sobs.*
Thomas? Tell me I didn't drop any?
@one-coming-is-enough
Tsk, tsk. That's what you get when you succumb to greed in Hell.
You better be more careful, because stuff gets worse the deeper we go.
*Angelo's eyes widened.*
Worse?!
I...
*He notices a maggot on the floor that escaped his feast.*
*Angelo huffs and picks it up. He squeezes his eyes shut and places it on his tongue.*
*He swallows*
I can't imagine anything worse...
But I need to save Ulysses. Where to next?
We're actually going to take a quick stop at...
*elevator doors open to a wild jamboree of marble columns, fountains, and statues amongst verdant and rocky mountain peaks*
Mt. Olympus.
*a booming, bass voice from the heavens*
Angelo, my boy! You finally found your way to Me! Welcome!
Angelo's eyes widen with a tender look.
D-d-d-dad? Is it really you??
I thought you... didn't care about me!
A hero's path is not easy, but you made it home. I've been watching you all this time. A god cannot interfere with the mortal trials of His children. But now you are here and you can be My son and reign when I am retired.
Wait! Wait! Wait! HOLD ON! WAIT! My whole life-- my childhood on the streets of Philadelphia, being alone with no family after grandma died, all those times people beat me up at the bar, all those fires at @pret-a-metatron , all of this whole Gluttony thing... all of that was just a test t be worthy to be your son?!
It's true, My son, and you have done wonderfully! There's just one more thing I need you to do before I can claim you as My son forever and ever.
What is it?! I'll make you coffee every day! I'll run a small business for you. I'll set you up with attractive old people. I'll run tours of your theme park. I'll babysit your other sons. I'll do all your beer runs! Whatever it is, I can do it!
You must remove all doubt that I am your father. Which means you must remove your other father...
@the-metatron can be your father no more.
Wait. Wait. You're being silly! I can have two dads. A lot of people have two dads.
Jesus has two moms and he turned out great, see?
Don't get Me wrong, Jesus is super cute.
But @the-metatron is trying to usurp the Heavenly Throne by using you! And I can't let him do that.
So. He can't be your dad anymore.
I never thought i would agree with Mr. Prissy Thunderpants, but down with the gerontophilic abusive bastard.
But... I mean... people always say he's using me... But that Can't be true. He- He coaches my baseball team. He takes my troop on camping trips. He always tells me I'm a good boy... He- He taught me how to ride a bike.
*His fingers do the nervous stim.*
He... He gives the best hugs.
*He hesitates.*
Would you..? Can I..?
*He reaches for a hug.*
@one-coming-is-enough
@the-metatron
*a warm cloud embraces you*
My Son.
Will you make Me your One and Only Dad? Or will I continue on alone?
*This is the best hug Angelo has ever gotten in his entire life.*
What if I just don't call @the-metatron "dad" anymore? What if I just hang out with him and we're buds? And you and I can do all the father/son stuff? Meet in the middle?
I really want to be your son...
Not enough. He pretty much has to die.
*Angelo gulps and stares at the knife being offered to him.*
And you'll be my dad forever? No take backs? You'll never leave me ever again?
*He reaches for the knife.*
Forever and ever without end! Angelo at the right hand of Zeus! Just stab the Metatron to death!
*sits there eating popcorn and watching the murder plans unfold*
@one-coming-is-enough
*Angelo takes the knife with his still quivering hands. He makes a little sound, because words just aren't doing anything for him right now. He takes a long distressed look at the knife. He can see his own reflection in it's blade. He can see a little bit of his dad in there now; in the set of his eyes. He shakes his head a moment to dispel his thoughts.*
Hey, Metatron. It's me. Angelo. C-c-c-come closer.
"Of course, my beloved son. Tea?"
*With one hand behind his back to conceal the knife he steps closer, using his other hand to swipe at the tears forming in his troubled eyes.*
N-n-no thank you, dad... I just want...
a final hug.
*Angelo wraps an arm around @the-metatron . His other arm reached from behind him his blad so close to the Metatron's back.*
I love you dad. *He whispers as he brings the blade closer to its target. He pauses.
Dad... have you ever heard that King Solomon story?
*He drops the knife.*
Nevermind!
TICKLEFIGHT!!!
*He tackles Metatron and begins tickling him.*
Ow ow hey hey HAHAHA I'm really -- I'm gonna pee my robes!
*both the Metatron and Zeus resolve into a singular Jesus, now being tickled*
You passed Treachery! And you can stop tickling Me now, I really don't like it.
Wait wait wait wait wait a Norns-damned minute.
...
...
...
There's not gonna be a murder?
Ugh. I'm gonna go play with Hodr and Baldur instead.
