Hey, I'm really pissed of today, so this is going to be rough in matters of chapter updates. Bear with me.
Review.
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"What're you doing here?" demanded Pickles.
"Please forgive my intrusion, masters, but you forgot your guitar, Skwisgaar. You usually bring it with you on outings. I thought you might like it," said 216, and from behind his back, he pulled Skwisgaar's Gibson.
"Wow, uh, thanks," said Skwisgaar, not really that grateful. 216 Strode in and handed the guitar to its owner.
"As I was saying, my lords, I would be honored to lure this dirtbag to the stage," said the midget and he made a little bow.
There was silence. Nathan knew all their roadies were trained by the best to fight. Would Selatcia want to fight them at all, was the question.
"Fine. Go ahead, here's the address. Just wait for us to call ya," said Pickles, and he handed 216 the slip of paper.
"Let's roll," said Nate, sighing, and she walked out the door.
The band saw no alternative but to follow her. Nathan wasn't surprised when Skwisgaar disappeared into Tessa's bedroom before following them out.
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Charles had been filled in on the plan, and although he didn't agree with it, he agreed to help them set up and make the announcement over tv.
Nathan notified the roadies and they helped too. Nate, meanwhile, was assisting Jean Pierre and the roadie in charge of the pyrotechnics with the special fire funnels. They would fill all of them with the leaded poison and glass, they had decided, in case Selatcia sidestepped.
Skwisgaar decided not to help much. Instead, he could be seen sharpening one of Nate's knives, a silver throwing knife. He looked grim. Nathan guessed the kidnapping of his newfound son really had him pissed off.
While the roadie in charge of cleaning microphones dusted his, he took Nate aside and asked her what was wrong. She kept making pained faces and staring off into space.
"I'm just nervous about this, that's all," she assured him, and she handed another flat piece of glass to the bulky roadie in charge of pyrotechnics.
Not quite reassured but not wanted to press the matter further, he headed back over to his microphone and grunted a thanks to #212.
As they prepared, people started gathering around the stage. They were positioned on the same waterfront as Selatcia must be, but seperated by several buildings so he didn't get suspicious.
216 Would be positioned at the back of the crowd, armed with not only the sgtandard issue Dethklok firearms, but also a rather special dagger of Nates, tipped in an unknown substance and dried on the blade. If shoved into a corner, he would use it. Selatcia would be favoring and protecting the blade in his shoulder, so it wasn't a feasable weak point.
They would play this stupid show, grab Thor back, kill that asshole and pack up and go. Happily ever after.
People were pouring in by the dozens now, and some of them were making rather lewd gestures at Nate. For she show, and for obvious (she wanted to keep everyone's eyes on her to distract them from what was going on with Selatcia in case someone thought it was a mosh pit) she had changed into a rather skimpy outfit that showed a LOT of bare, fish-white skin. In this case, a thigh high mini-skirt, black with red stitching and a small, bell out skirt, a fishnet shirt over a black bra-looking thing and knee high combat boots. She looked rather punk.
Nathan decided not to look at her too long. She was a very good distraction.
As for the looks and covetious whistles she was getting, those didn't bother him. People whistled at him all the time, and not always females.
His job was to create the ultimate distraction. Nothing more.
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She felt distinctly uncomfortable in the outfit she wore. It had been a last minute purchase with part of her paycheck as a Dethklok employee. She was to make sure everyone's eyes were on her, though, and she couldn't do that dressed as she usually was.
She felt like a skank.
Nonetheless, she forced herself to smile and wave at the crowd. Her fingernails had been freshly painted using some of Nathan's black nail polish.
Nathan jumped directly into "face fisted" and she knew her job had started. She was to stag "fight" one of the roadies, also dressed incognito, during the show, as a sort of entertainment thing. It took her mind off the crowd and stopped her caring that they could all see the curve of her butt and the immense cleavage her top provided.
She focused on dodging and twirling her blades theatrically and could tell that even staged, her "opponent" was straining to keep it up. She was getting tired, too. Her arms ached and her hips were taking the strain badly.
She took a break in between "Go forth and die" and "Birthday dethday" and caught her breath. She shared a bottle water with the un-masked roadie and began pushing at her sore hip joints, trying to massage them as best she could.
She took a few more deep breaths and just before Nathan decided to jump right into "Murdertrain a comin'", Pickles threw in a little drum solo, to which she and the roadie "danced" to. The lights were all on them, clashing swords and fighting.
Meanwhile...
216, whos name was actually Dwayne (you seee why he preferred his numeric designation) had been spying on Selatcia and the rest of whom must be that Tribunal thing the others were talking about for the past fifteen minutes, waiting for Selatcia to put the baby down or give him to someone else.
When he finally did, 216 made a loud noise, dropping a nearby pipe onto the concrete, something to draw him over, away from shouting distance of his cronies.
Once the man was within range, 216 stepped out and pulled his gun, pointing it directly at the man's head. He was shorter than average, buthe more than made up for it with his shooting. He was the best on the Dethklok staff outside of the snipers. He never missed.
Selatcia actually looked somewhat surprised.
"Come on, gramps, I'll follow you out," he said, trying to keep his voice down.
Selatcia walked out of the warehouse at gunpoint and 216 knew, by the time they reached the back of the crowd, that the guy was playing along and knew something was up.
Up onstage, the pretty woman and his pal Kris were swordfighting while the band played.
He shoved his gun as far up into the man's back as he could reach, which was just below the neck. Selatcia kept walking. He didn't know about the--- no, musn't think of those, the guy was a sort of psychic, from what he had heard. Don't give him the chance, you never knew.
They were in the middle of the crowd when it happened. Some smartass bumped into him, nudging the gun away from the man he was pushing and Selatcia took the chance.
He spun away from the gun and shoved his hand into 216's jaw.
Up onstage, Nathan saw the fight break out. It wasn't a mosh pit. It was 216 and that asshole Selatcia.
He stopped singing and cried out the man's name.
The crowd stopped moshing in areas at the sound of the music stopping. Skwisgaar's guitar was humming and Murderface's finges slid over his strings, but other than that, the stage was silent.
"SELATCIA!" Nathan shouted out again.
Slowly, the crowd began to an away from the man in white and he tilted his head up to look him directly in the face.
"Nathan Explosion, as I live and breathe," said Selatcia.
He didn't know why, but the sound of his name coming from that asshole's mouth pissed him off.
"Hey, why'd they stop playing?" murmered a few people in the crowd.
"Shut it, you," said Nate, speaking into Nathan's microphone. Nathan glanced sideways at her in her skimpy outfit, but her face didn't say helpless slut at all. She had a hard, blazing look to her face, and with her sword at her side, even he wouldn't dare cross her.
"What did you do with Thor?" he demanded.
Selatcia walked right up the the edge of the stage, as close as he could, and unbeknownst to him, anyway, just to the side of one of the pyrotech funnels. They had been aimed to criss cross each other's paths in case one missed. Almost everyone in the crowd would die if hit. The rest might get sick from the vapors. Nathan didn't give a damn.
He just wanted these asshole Tribunals off his back.
"So tell me, Nathan. What sordid plans did you have in store for me? Surely, this isn;t the usual venue for your famous shows?" he taunted him.
"I'll tell 111 to light the funnels" Nate whispered so softly he almost couldn't hear her. She vanished from his side.
He decided to keep this jackass busy.
"We're not planning anything, I mean come on. I never graduated from high school, Toki and Skwisgaar's english skills suck and Murderface and Pickles don't do anything for the band. We're here cause we feel like it," Nathan droned on, saying anything to keep Selatcia standing where he was.
"Hey, whadaya mean we don't do anything for the band? I write all my own crap!" said Pickles, outraged. Nathan turned back to him and he slipped him a sneaky wink. He was playing along.
"Yeah,and whats do you means Toki and me don'ts knows english? Mine is prefects!" cried Skwisgaar, defeating the purpose.
"Yeahs, mine is perfects, too!" Toki agreed.
"Okay, I really don't do much of anything... but I know you all like me!" called Murderface. The crowd began to chuckle.
Nathan distantly heard the small hum and whine of the pyrotechs starting to heat up.
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DUN DUN DUUUN!!!! Next chapter up very soon!!!!