Hey, for anyone who knows what a music release party is and what it entails, please feel fgree to correct me, cause I prob have it all wrong. And, if you DO know what it entail and have actually been to one... HOOK ME UP WITH DETH METAL PPL! I have no one to jam with... :(
Please review
this one is gonne be really long
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The release party was wholly unfamiliar. People, wherever she looked.
She had pulled her bangs back in twisy spirals and made a circlet of hair. She had decided to leave small tendrils of hair in her face and the Mordhaus librarian had halped her with the golden hair piece. It rested on her forehead level with her hairline. Her outfit wasn't too bothersome. She had asked and gotten permission to borrow a couple daggers and a sword from Murderface and now they were lashed to a belt she had borrowed from Nathan. All in all, her costume looked cool.
Toki was a hit with his. The band were all making fun of him, but he didn't seem to mind. He was too nusy stuffing his face full of candy. There were massive bowls of it scattered all around the huge room that they had had to move the party to. Too many people had showed up. Nathan told her it was the room they used for intra-Mordhaus shows and band rehersal. It was certainly big enough.
Everywhere she looked, costumed fans were milling about. The roadies were deterring anyone from stealing things and she noticed that she was getting more attention than she was used to. She wasn't sure if it was her costume.
It might have been the fact that she kept going places that the roadies were stopping the fans from going. Such as sitting on the edge of the stage that they used for rehersal and walking to and from the main section of the Haus that the fans had been barred from.
"How come she gets free access?" asked one snotty looking girl in a skimpy top that said "Explode me".
"I know, rilly, she's not even that smexy. You think she's into that Toki Wartooth guy?" said the snotty girl's friend.
She approached them but stayed close to a nearby roadie. She did not want trouble.
"I'm not into Toki. I'm his little sister. I live here. Keep your opinions to yourself," she said coldly.
"Ugh. What ever."
My god, she hated people like that. Not two brain cells to rub together. Were all Americans so braindead??
Everywhere she went, she was pushed and shoved. She wouldn't have minded so much if she wasn't wearing a skirt. If only she really was a goddess... then she could get away with murder. Wait... did the pain waivers exempt her from blame if someone died because of her?
She began shoving back through the crowd, past people in featherd masks, with vampire paint on, past people dressed almost nude, past men, women, young and old who were all dressed in costume.
She got one of the roadies to help her up onto the stage (the stairs were momentarily blocked) and despite a number os complains, she went behind the stage, which was obscured by the enormous dragon wings.
Back here, Pickles was receiving help with his costume. Apparently, he was trying to dress as a drown victim, but his makeup wasn't coming along so well. They were using all the wrong colors, she thought, frowning slightly. He had even shaved for the occasion. It made him look... strange... like a teenager. He had a baby face. Which explained the facial hair.
"Where's Charles?" she asked Nathan, who was standing nearby, watching the make up fiasco with interest. He was dressed awkwardly in a flor-length black executioner's robe with a hood. His face wasn't made up yet.
Deciding she was bored and because she felt like it, she gently shoved the make up roadie aside and began carefully scrubbing Pickle's face clean of the botched crap. Pink and green... those weren't drown colors, she thought, vaguely disgusted.
"What are you doing?" asked Nathan incredulously.
"Fixing this. I'm bored anyway. I used to do makeup in drama club when I was in high school," she said, and began re-applying the drummer's eye makeup, this time using bruised looking mixes of red and black and purple. She applied the layer extremely thin so he wouldn't look diseased too. She added a touch of bright red eyeliner to the bottom and gently smudged. His skin was soft. Eye makeup would be a bitch.
She mixed two different colored powders to make something just a few shades lighter than his natural skin tone and blended it all in, then dabbed a bit of blue onto his lips. He pursed them to make it easier for her, but ended up swallowing the lipstick. He gagged and opened his eyes. He saw her.
"Yah! What the hell are you doing?" he gasped, clearly surprised.
"Makeup. The other guy had a hand up his ass," she said, and smiled.
He remained still and allowed her to finish the lipstick, and grudgingly allowed her to mess up his hair, putting the dreds that formed his combover into something more messy. The rest of his hair was too long, so she just messed it up as best she could. A few dead leaves and a little mud and water and he'd look authentic.
"We got the water," said Murderface, grinning evilly and handed her a bucket of water. It looked cold. He was dressed in an authentic civil war uniform from the Confederate side. He looked odd not wearing shorts.
Smiling, she held the bucket in one arm against her rub cage and dipped Pickle's hair into the water, soaking it. She messed it up again. There. Now he looked like a drown victim. Sometimes, less makeup was better.
"Wow. He looks... dead," said Nathan, gazing at the drummer as if he had never seen him properly.
"Lemme see," he said, and he snatched the makeup tray from Freya and stared at himself in the little mirror. Hie eyes went wide, and he smiled.
"Nice job," he said, grinning evilly.
She smiled back and his grin faltered a little bit.
"Me next!" said Nathan happily, albeit with the usual glare on his face.
He replaced Pickles in the chair.
"Let me guess. Skull," she said dully.
"Duh."
She got to work. His cheekbones stuck out. It wasn't too hard. She simply traced the outline of his actual skull. His face was harder than Pickle's and his skin was just as smooth. She painted him white and black and smudged the black near his eyes. His nose was a bit more difficult. She simply dabbed a bit of black at the nasal bone between his eyes and smeared extra white on the rest of it. With any luck, the lighting and the hood would make it appear as if his nose had disappeared.
He didn't take that long.
"Done."
"Metal," he said, gazing at himself in the mirror. His lips had been painted black. He never wore lipstick. Ever. Although, he did wear nail polish, so he supposed it had only been a matter of time.
"All done with the makeup? Oh. my god." said a new voice.
Charles had come in and seen Pickles and Nathan.
"Good, huh? Freya did it," said Pickles, shrugging. He messed up his own hair even more, so it was plastered to the side of his face. One of his combover dreds hung limp against the front of his cheek. His bald head gleamed dully in the lights.
Nathan pulled his hair back into a very loose ponytail, so endrils of it came loose and hung in his face. He put hs hood up. So he was the grim reaper.
She hoped down off her little stool, set the makeup down and ran over to the band manager and lawyer.
"I had a question for you," she said.
"Yes?" he asked.
"The pain waivers the fans sign. Do they exempt me from blame as well? Or just Dethklok?" she asked.
Everyone was silent for a moment.
"Well, it refers to the band by surnames, and yours is Wartoothso I suppose, yes. Why? Thinking of killing everyone?" he asked.
"No. Just one in particular," she said, only half joking.
"Okay. The roadies are selling the CD at all those little tables and all you have to do is play a few songs from it. We're done with the release party. The sponsors and some people from the label will be here shortly. Have a good time," he said.
The band all grabbed their instruments. Skwisgaar resembled something from The Matrix with a strip of black over his eyes and the bridge of his nose. His lips were also painted black. He looked ridiculous. Overdone. To each their own.
"You uh... lok nice," said someone and she turned to see Pickles, the drowned man. He was eyeing her costume up and down.
"Yeah, Toki bought it for me. I'm suposed to be the Goddess Freya, what do you think? I look the part?" she asked, twirling stupidly. The look on her face suggested that she didn't enjoy garrumping around in a skirt, but she actually really liked it. (A/N: If "garrumping" isn't a word, it is now)
"Yeah. Look good," he said, as if it were no big deal.
"She's gorgeous! I must have her!! Lemme up there!"
They all turned at the voice.
"What the fuck-?" she said, her eyes wide, her expression skeptical.
They peered around the front of the stage and saw three roadies struggling to contain one man in a biker jacket and covered in tatoos. He looked deranged.
"I sink he's talking abouts you, Freya," said Toki conversationally.
She walked out on to the stage on a whim and to avoid spotlight, sat on the very edge, feet from the crowd. The roadies had managed to subdue the man.
"What's she doing?" asked Toki from backstage.
"Search me, she's your sister," replied Pickles.
Back up front, Freya slid down off the stage and quickly lost herself in the crowd. Now the man would never find her.
Just ahead, she spotted the snobby girl with the punky hair and the skimpy shirt. Perfect.
She had never done this before, but she knew she could. She wanted to. Just to say she had. While she could get away with it...
She pulled one of Murderface's daggers from her belt and, sneaking up behind the girl, she brought her arm around the girl's throat and in one quick movement, slashed it wide open. Blood sprayed everywhere and one guy nearby began cheering and flashing devil horns.
"Yaah, Dethklok!" he cheered, and the cheer was taken up by the rest of the crowd. She wiped the bloody dagger on the girl's shirt and sheathed it. She walked away as if she'd done nothing wrong. Better yet, she hadn't gotten any blood on her clothing.
She had killed someone. And she didn't care. She was truly a part of Dethklok now.
Smiling, she partook in some candy as well and joined the crowd as her older brother's band came out onstage and began playing. Nathan even had a scye tucked into his belt, although it was slightly shorter than he was. He had to be able to walk.
They were awesome. Beter live than on CD. She edged towards one of the tables where the roadies were selling the new album and began reading off the back of one.
"Take it!" the roadie in charge of selling screamed to be heard over the music.
"Thanks!" she yelled back, and she went backstage to tuck it into a piece of Murderface's costume. He had removed the upper portiion of his costume before going onstage. Apparently the stage lights were hot.
She watched the rest of that song from backstage, flashing her brother encouraging smiles whenever he looked back. He was swinging his long hair around and his helmet had long since fallen off. He still looked like a Viking to her, though. Part of his hair had been sloppily braided.
After their first song was done, they all went backstage.
"Hey, could you fix the makeup? It's starting to run," sid Nathan.
Freya got a wash towel and told him to sit so she could reach his face. He did and closed his eyes.
She blotted his face free of sweat and reapplied what makeup needed it. Much better.
"Yeah, me too," said Pickles, and he quickly took Nathan's vacated seat and waited for her to start.
His makeup was fine, except for the lips. She fixed it and said, "done."
He got up and at that moment, three men came backstage, accompanied by two roadies with guns. The men were dressed in costume, too. One wore a viking costume like Toki, except this man had a fake beard and an axe. The fatter man was dressed in a flannel shirt and torn jeans and also had a fake beard. The third was the more normal of them all and wore a simple black robe.
"Hey, it's been awhile, guys!" said the taller man, smiling graciously. His voice had a fruity, unctuous note to it that Freya disliked on contact. She also noticed that his hands were robotic.
"What the hell are you doing back here?" grumbled Nathan. He was talking to the man with the robotic hands.
"Dat's Twinkletits, our therapist. His arms were chewed off by sa wolv ez," muttered Toki.
She nodded, understanding.
The other two men were more welcome than Twinkletits. They were apparently from the sponsors.
"I'm suposed to be a mountanier, whaddaya think?" asked the fat man, holding his arms out for inspection.
"Not bad," said Freya.
The fat man shifted his gaze to her and smiled, holding out a ahnd. Apparently, he was extremely good natured. She took it.
"The name's Sparks. I'm here representing the Williams street track, one of Dethklok's sponsors. You are?" he asked.
"Freya Wartooth," she said. She released his hand.
"Wartooth? So the media was right, then? You are Toki's newest friend?" asked the man.
"His sister,"she corrected him.
"I'm Timothy, and I'm here representing Dethklok's other sponsor. You look lovely, Miss Wartooth," said the man in the viking costume. He shook her hand as well.
Now that the introductions were finished, the two new men started talking with Charles Ofdensen. Twinkletits immediately stole his chance.
"So. Are you and Toki really brother and sister?" he asked her in an undertone, smiling. He was freaking her out. He was like a gay version of Mr Rogers intent on eating her up with his eyes.
"Yes," she said, liking him less and less every second.
"Bet'chood like to get a night out with one of the guys, eh?" he asked, smiling as if he were sharing some important secret with her.
She kneed Twinkletits in the crotch and walked away without a word. God, he gave her the creeps.
"He say sumthin he shouldn't've?" asked Pickles, who was ignoring the sponsor's arrival.
"Asked if I wouldn't like a night out with one of you guys. He's... creepy. I don't like him," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the man on the floor clutching himself.
To her surprise, Pickles didn't laugh. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Then,
"Would you?"
"I'm sorry, what?" she said, not sure she had heard him correctly. Was he asking her for an answer to Twinkletit's question or asking one of his own?
"Like a night out with one of us," he asked. Underneath the drowned makeup, he looked rather nervous. Pickles, consumer of everything legal ansd illegal was nervous? Why?
As they talked, someone else got up onstage and started talking. She wasn't paying any attention.
"Are you asking this in general, or are you talking about yourself?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. She knew the answer already. She was just baiting him. She wouldn't mind a night or day out with the red head.
Back up on stage, another band began to play and she actually recognized this one. Dimmu Borgir. They had come all the way over from Norway, like her, to be at Mordhaus. She almost wanted to go around up to the front of the stage and see them live, but she resisited. She would probably get the chance to meet them backstage after.
"I was takin' about me. You wanna do sumthin sometime?" he asked over the music.
Smiling, she leaned forward so he could hear her better and answered.
"Sure!" she yelled.
Pickles grinned and when he thought she wasn't looking, he pumped the air with his fist.
"Yes!"
She saw. And she smiled.
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At the end of the release party, the halloween party began. Music was being played by a DJ over a quadruple set of loudspeakers. A cotume contest was being held and the winner would get a special gift. Band members were included. Toki entered everyone from Dethklok and Freya. She seemed to be enjoying herself, at least. She had taken her hair piece out and was now headbanging along with Pickles, Skwisgaar and Nathan. Fans around them were cheering but being held at bay by three different roadies with guns. One fan got too close. The gunshot echoed across the entire room.
Toki was happily stuffing himself with candy, even though his mouth was starting to hurt. He liiked candy. He got it free from his endorsements and it was expensive stuff back home in Norway, so he ate all of it that he could.
Halfway through the halloween party, he saw that his sister was drinking with Pickles and Nathan, albeit not the harder stuff. It was fine. She was of age. He decided to get something to drink, too. Get the taste of taffy out of his mouth. He hated taffy.
He joined them.
Half an hour later, they were all pretty tipsy. He was still lucid enough to register the fact that Pickles seemed to be much happier than usual when he was drunk. Freya was extremely giggly.
"I will now announce the winner of the costume contest! Murderface, the fish bowl, please," said someone from up onstage. The music had been stopped.
Murderface, now back in his confederate shirt, held up a fishbowl full of bits of paper. Toki had helped write the names down for people who had entered. First, Charles would pull out ten names and those people would go up onstage. Then they would pass the bowl around and whoever felt half assed voted on who's costume was best.
The whole costume contest had been his idea from the start. It would be fun.
Charles called up Pickles, Freya, a guy from Dimmu Borgir named Shagrath Thoresen. His cotsume was pretty cool. Some sort of decaying demon thing. Four fans, Toki wasn't listening to their names, but their costumes were pretty crappy. Another girl from a different band that had only played part of one song before being booed off the stage. She was dressed as a naughty nurse. And then Toki himself.
He joined the rest of those onstage and stood beside his sister. She had fixed her messed up hair and replaced her hair piece. Pickles stood on her other side, wearing a grim expression, as if really drowned. He was a good actor.
They all waited as the bowl was passed from person to person within the front and second rows and handed back up to charles. He took all the names out and began divi-ing them up on who got more votes. Two piles were significantly bigger than the rest.
Charle called all four fans off the stage, and then the girl from the crap band. Now it was just Pickles, Toki, Freya and Shagrath Thoresen.
"Looks like theee... winner of this thing is Freya Wartooth," said Charles.
There was applause and screaming. From over at the left side of the rooom, a few dozen fans were calling her name.
"Hey, dat's great, Freya! You win!" said Toki, smiling. It really was great, he thought, because he knew what the prize for best costume was.
She blushed scarlet, making her pale cheeks look fevered and flushed. Charles handed her what at first glance appeared to be a piece of chain. Actually, it was a necklace he had gotten for himself as a teenager with a demon skull pendant. It was all he could think of for a prize since the costume contest had been a spur of the moment idea.
The man from Dimmu Borgir approached her and smiled, distorting his makeup. He had shoulder length dark hair.
"Nice one. Knew there was no contest if you were in it," he complimented her. (A/N: I have no idea what Shagrath's personality is like, so to prevent tarnishing it unnecesarily, I will remove him from this chapter) Pickles congratulated her too, with a quick kiss on the cheek. He jumped offstage and went tumbling into a solid wall of fans. He was tipsy.
Shagrath left and Toki helped his sister put his old necklace on. She stared down at it and smiled.
This party was awesome!!
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PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I do not own Dimmu Borgir, or metalocalypse.