"Hey, Pickles.. what are you doing?" A deep, wary voice spoke from the entryway of the lounge, the low lighting along the walls casting elongated shadows around every corner. Green eyes were locked on a silver laptop settled against a pair of knees, the Irish man's usual drunk stupor more tamed than it had any right to be on a lazy night. The pale illumination of the monitor washed out his already pallid skin, giving the red head an almost ghostly appearance. A quick glance up followed by a crooked grin nearly made the front man's skin crawl. That would make a great album cover. If he could get the others to work with the idea, that could be-
"Heh, heya, Nate. I'm just doin' a lit'le research.. wish I drank a few bottles first before doin' this, though." The drummer's quiet response broke through his train of thought, his evident Midwestern accent seeming to take on a more subtle tone to match the night's mood. A deep grunt was all the response he could verbally muster at such a bizarre statement, a small raise of one dark brow punctuating his tone.
"C'mon, c'mon, I'll make ya suffer with me." He enticed, his smile dominating his features once more as he waved him over.
Nathan remained rooted where he stood, a frown nearly carved into his face as he pondered different scenarios as to what the drummer was up to. It wasn't often Pickles made much trouble of himself, alcohol and drug addiction aside. Along with the occasional fist fight. That was a walk in the park compared to most of the shit that went down in Mordhaus on a nearly daily basis. With that in mind, his curiosity on the matter won him over and he shuffled towards the viking-esque, metal framed couch, plopping beside Pickles with the ease and grace of a boulder.
Peering over his shoulder, Nathan's mind quickly fell blank as his eyes were attacked by blocks of text. A second passed before his mind fully registered what it was he was looking at, and he leaned back in his seat with his arms crossed. "Uh.. so you're reading?" He grumbled slowly, his earlier skepticism quickly diminishing. That was until Pickles slowly shook his head, his eyes tightened slightly around the edges. A muted click of a mouse-pad brought them back to a search page lined with dozens of story titles. Nothing in particular stood out among the sea of writing, and for a moment he wondered if Pickles was pulling his leg until the connection hit him like a train. Every synopsis had Toki and Skwisgaar in it. Now that he focused his attention, he saw that their names were plastered everywhere, occasionally littered with the names of the remaining band members.
Wide eyes whipped back to Pickles and he finally noted that he did look a little green. "Oh God.. Oh God! Pickles what the hell?!" Nathan cried out before a hand slapped firmly over his mouth.
"Shut it! Don' wake tha whole house up!" Pickles griped before he promptly drew his hand away.
"We're all deaf anyways, what does it matter?" Nathan shot back lowly before he threw his hand towards the computer monitor. "What the hell is this? You know this shit is taboo, and it is definitely not metal." He emphasized his last two words curtly and Pickles rolled his eyes.
"Yeh, yeh, tha unspoken 'don' read what tha fans write' rule." He waved off his friend's dumbfounded look with a shake of his head. "I have a reason for this. Far as I know, we're tha only two who knows 'bout this creepy bullshit, right? Why not have some fun with it? Toki and Skiwsgaar seem ta be tha most popular.. uh.. pairing?" He uttered with such a cringe it would have made anyone wonder if he had been physically punched in the gut. "Can't do this ta Murderface 'cause he'd probably like that weird crap. Creepy pre-teen girls writing about him, oh God.."
"Wait, how did you get this far? You didn't even know the internet existed a few months ago." He asked suddenly, brushing off the horrific image that threatened to surface from the drummer's statement and instead focused on the fact that he was on a laptop to begin with. Pickles shrugged and leaned back against the plush, blood red cushions.
"Got one of the Hoods to set me up. Don' worry, they don' know what I'm up to." He responded easily enough, a small laugh pushing past his lips.
"Okay, so, uh.. we're gonna mess with them?" Nathan asked after a brief pause, his mute green eyes lighting up at the prospect. Toki and Skwisgaar always got under everyone's skin with their constant bickering and fighting, and this could be the perfect form of payback on the Scandinavians. A disgusting, chain-reaction-puke-a-thon inducing form of revenge.
"Yeh!"
"We're gonna need a lot of alcohol to do this, then. Why would you do this shit to yourself sober?" He mused incredulously as he moved to get up and head to the kitchen.
"'Cause if we're gonna do this, we gotta do it right." Pickles words were enough to stop the hulking lead singer in his tracks and glance over his shoulder with a raised brow. Taking his cue to elaborate, he leaned forward and spoke under his breath conspiratorially, "We have ta, ya know, hook em' in. Make them think it's some cool thing we found that happens ta mention them. They'll get pulled in, feel all safe when nothin' weird happens, then bam!" He threw his hands up with a sharp stomp of his foot on the ground, "Walked right into their doom." An expression of pride crossed his face as Nathan turned to face him again in silence, mouth slightly agape. This could work. Damn. This could actually be downright brutal.
"So yeh, can't necessarly do this piss drunk, 'cause then I'd just find tha most disgusting story out there and send it to em, and they'd never read it! It'd be too obvious." A devious smile crept across the front man's lips before he broke down into low chuckles. "So are ya still in?" Pickles asked quietly, waggling his pierced brows and earning another rumbling laugh.
"Hell yeah! Have you found anything yet?" He pressed as he settled back in place on the long couch.
"Ehh, I have a few in mind. Most stories are too long, ya know? Like chapters and chapters of tha stuff. It's insane." He muttered more towards himself before he added a couple choice words under his breath. "But others are too short or poorly written." He continued with a small frown. Stealing another glance at the fan database, Nathan took note of the search results in numbers alone. There were thousands of these things. His stomach flipped and knotted painfully in the core of his body, and he found himself leaning over his knees.
"I think I'm gonna be sick.." He muttered as he tightly pressed his lips together.
"Here," A small, metal trash bin slid across the rock flooring, and a pungent smell slowly drifted up to his nostrils. "It's disgusting, but it helps."