For those who wanted to get to know Freya better, this one's from her POV. Please review!!
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Freya allowed one of the roadies to escort her through Mordhaus. He was about Toki's height
Speaking of Toki...
She had known she hasd a brother, had even half hoped it was the Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, but the actualization of Dethklok looking for her... or had it maybe been Toki's idea? He had found a picture of her as a baby with his parents... which made the connection obvious.
Ever since she was a kid, she had hoped her rather unique last name would lead her to her birth parents, and when she had finally found them, she had been so unbelievably heartbroken and so disappointed that she hadn't been able to say a word to them, aside from hello and goodbye. They had just stared at her... crossed themselves, as if she had some contagious disease...
Her parents had never loved her. How could Toki?
But the hug she'd received... he had said he was glad to have a little sister. She wasn;t used to people caring about her. The only ones that did were her few friends from high school. And her one friend in England. She had never even been out of Norway.
Until now.
She sighed and looked around. She had been thinking so much that she hadn't realized her tour guide was talking to her.
"You with me so far? No one's allowed in the recording studio unless you have permission."
She nodded. They were passing the recording studio. It was hidden behind dark paneled glass. It was cold down here. She vaguely remembered being led down several steps.
The roadie noticed her rubbing her arms.
"Where do all the roadies sleep? Do you guys have a seperate part of Mordhaus to yourselves?" she asked.
"We have a seperate section, yeah, but it's pretty far from this one. Those towers scattered here and there on the outer edges of Mordland, those are where we live," the roadie replied. His voice was slightly muffled by his mask.
"Okay... so... what else is there to this place? Torture chambers?" she said, half joking. In truth, she liked the mix of medieval and gothic arcitechture.
"The torture chambers are down on the lower level. Wanna see them?" asked the roadie.
"Um... no thanks. Let's get out of here, it's cold," she said, shivering. Actually, she just wanted to see more of where her brother lived. Mordhaus was beautiful in a dark sort of way.
The roadie led her back upstairs and down the same corridor they had passed before. This time, the roadie led her up a short flight of stairs and into what appeared to be the biggest library she had ever seen in her life. From tower to floor, books. Who had any idea a band as one-track-minded as Dethklok read so many books?
They left the library and entered the main room of Mordhaus. Fireplace, arcade games, a dungeon-style bench, computer desk shaped like a giant saw blade, giant rug, torn drapes, plasma screen tv's dangling from giant fish hooks... this was the most awesome place she had ever stepped foot in.
"The saw blade table doubles as a hot tub," said the roadie, merely on a whim, and she saw the groove in the floor around said table that she thought must be some sort of hydrolic system. It looked as if it flipped around and the hot tub appeared in its place, filling with water.
Next they took a tour of the underground laboratories, where Dethklok had their own mini nuclear power plant, along with hired scientists and other personal. There was a second recording studio. A giant black and red submarine was docked at a nearby underground lake.
The roadie showed her where the band's bedrooms were located next but did not open any doors. She understood why, but she would like to have seen her brother's room.
"Can I see Toki's room?" she asked.
The roadie appeared to think for a moment, then shook his head.
" 'Fraid not, I don't wanna risk my job. I love working here," he said.
After that, he took her on a tour of the grounds. The grass was green, at least, but the sky overhead was cloudy. Hedges trimmed as dragons, just like Toki had told her. A tree that someone had carved the words "planet piss" into. A throw rug on the ground. They would probably bring it in if it rained.
"We have expert snipers stationed in and around Mordland. They can shoot a target about three miles away, so the security is tight. They've already been notified to not shoot you," explained her guide.
Looking where he pointed, she could see various towers, and indeed, a few other Dethklok roadies waved their guns in salute before maintaining their vigil.
"They know I'm here?" she asked. That was fast.
The roadie shrugged.
"They were notified "not to shoot the other red-head", if I remember the memo right. Anyway... that's Mordland. Do you want me to show you where they want you?" he asked. He must mean her bedroom.
She wanted to get Odin first, show him around, let him get to know the place.
"Sure. Just let me grab my dog," she said, nodding.
"Your trailer has already been parked in the parking lot and another roadie tied the dog outside. I'll get him. You wait here," he said, and he left her beside the picnic table outside.
She sat at the table and sighed, resting her chin in her hands. A gentle breeze kicked up, blowing her long hair with it. She frowned slightly at the sight of the bloodred waves. She liked her hair color; why hadn't her parents? It just made no sense.
She looked out over the land and smiled slightly, still a bit nostalgic for the icy hills of Norway. This was home now, she thought. Surrounded by metal and death, the only way to be. Blackened towers topped by bones, towering dragon-shaped monoliths covered in spines, Dethklok certainly lived in a nice place. But Michiganwas just... too warm. She didn't feel very good. Her head was starting to pound and her stomach felt all sloshy, like it did when you drank too much water on an empty stomach.
Moments later, the roadie returned, with Odin on a black leash. She noticed a spiked dog collar that she had't bought.
"A gift from Toki Wartooth," he said, noticing her gaze. She smiled. Her brother certainly had good taste. The collar made the enormous Wolfhound look like a monster.
She took the leash from the roadie and followed him back inside. He led her down the hallway that contained all the bedrooms and stopped outside a door shaped in typical gothic fashion, with black steel bands running across it. It looked like it belonged in the tower of london.
"Your bedroom, Ms. Wartooth," said the roadie. She frowned.
"It's Freya," she corrected him. Gods, she hated being called ms. Warooth. Ma'am was annoying, too.
"How about my lady," said the roadie, and although she couldn't see his face, she could tell by the sound of his voice that he waws frowining, unsure what to refer to her as. Obviously, the roadies weren't allowed to call their bosses anything except master or my lord.
"Fine," she said, giving in.
She opened the door and was greeted by a large bedroom. The walls were stone and even as she watched, two roadies finished moving all her stuff in place. They had even made up a small bed for Odin to sleep on. They exited, sending the devil horns at her roadie tour guide, and she walked in. Odin immediately jumped on his bed.
There were three towering windows, covered by the same torn red drapes she had seen in the main room. The bed was a four post, hold the curtains. The coveres were black and blood red, the headboard, shaped like a demonic skull, replete with ram horns and fangs. Awesome.
There was a vanity against the opposite wall. The mirror was octagonal and the vanity was covered with what little make up she had had in the trailer. It seemed the roadies had emptied her previous home to furbish this one. Black nail polish, what normal make up she posessed for mundane things such as job interviews, pencils, pens, a box of tissues, tubes of paint in a cofee mug, the small stuff she'd had scattered hither and thither on the camper.
On the floor was a lush black carpet and settled in the corner of the room, away from everything else, was her drum kit. Next to that on a high shelf, but not so high so she couldn;t reach it, sat her stereo. The speakers had been nailed to the wall. All her things where here. She guessed this was home.
She turned to thank the roadie. He gave her the typical devil-horn salute and she returned it.
"I'm gonna stay in here for awhile. I'm not feeling so hot," she told him. He nodded and left.
Deciding she should get some rest (her stomach still felt queasy), she lay down on her new bed and closed her eyes, feeling she was home at last.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
PLEASE REVIEW!!!
hAHAHA, She;'s feeling sick because of something very similar to what I went through when I moved from Maine to Florida. My entire system was out of whack for almopst a year and I was sick as a dog the entire time. The climate change that severe will make you sick, lol.