If Toki thought that he was unsettled before, it was nothing compared to what he felt now. He'd learned from Nathan that what Skwisgaar had done was in self-defense, but he still was incredibly nervous about the Swede. Yet, there was a sorrow there as well. To think that the blond guitarist whose skills he coveted so much had to kill in order to avoid being killed or otherwise badly wounded made. . .everything that he ever felt about him that much more complicated. He wasn't sure how it was possible to hate and feel sorry for someone at the same time, but here he was.
Every time Skwisgaar was near Toki, the Norwegian's heart would begin to pound inside his chest, his eyes would grow larger, and he would fight to keep his breath steady. Forget nerves—he was almost scared. Whether it was self-defense or not, the Swede was capable of murder and he himself had been threatened.
He kept his eyes on the Swede when they were in the hot tub together or when they were sitting with the other guys in the kitchen. He was on constant edge, but the other guitarist was. . .calm. Aloof. Indifferent to his surroundings. He was back to doing what he'd always done, ignoring Toki and mostly everyone else in favor of his guitar. Every once in a while he would interject in an argument or discussion to offer his own input or opinion, but either than that Skwisgaar seemed to have forgotten his threat.
After a week, Toki finally felt as though he could breathe again. Really, how abundant were death threats between them? It wasn't as though this had been the first time Skwisgaar threatened his life. If Toki were to take every one of those times seriously he would have been buried about a hundred times over by now. It was a little different this time still, knowing that Skwisgaar had killed someone before, but that stain had been in the Swede's past ever since he knew him. It had been Skwisgaar that replaced Magnus as Dethklok's lead guitarist after all, and he himself had taken Skwisgaar's place as the rhythm.
It wasn't like Toki didn't have similar stains in his past, as well.
"Heey. Heey. You okee dere?"
Toki blinked a few times, and then shook his head roughly as he was pulled from his thoughts. He looked around. They'd all been sitting in the hot tub, but he was now the only one left. Skwisgaar, Nathan, and Murderface had all disappeared. Pickles himself was standing on the edge in his housecoat, fruity drink in hand.
"Oh. Hi, Pickle." Toki tried to smile, but it turned out a little tight. "Sorries. Was thinking pretty hards."
"Yeeuh? Sher looked like it whin I gaht oot. Didn' even say g'bye whin I said it to ya."
Toki shifted in the water. "Sorries."
"Heey, don' be—don' git doon ahn yerself, 'kee?" Pickles grinned crookedly and moved over to the couch. "You been quaiet a laht leetely, ya knoow?"
"Oh, I has? Maybes." Toki shrugged, watching his foot move around at the bottom of the tub. "Kind of gots thing on my minds."
"Thet reet? Whet kinda things?"
Toki furrowed his brow and chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Magnus. I's been thinking about him. Kind ofs."
The glass Pickles had raised to drink from stopped before his waiting lips. One pierced eyebrow rose as he considered the younger man. "Magnus? Whey're ya theenkin' aboot thet douche? Didn' ever even meet him, didja? Couldn'a."
Toki shook his head. "Noes. I didn'ts know him. He was am ins the band befores I evens knew any of you guys."
"Reet. Yeeuh." Pickles rested his glass on his leg, supporting the stem. "Hoow cahme yer thinkin' aboot him? I didn' knoow ennyone did, ennymore."
Toki shrugged. "I just heards that he wasn't veries nice to Skwisgaar. Or anyones, really. Didn'ts know he was the lead guitarist before Skwisgaar eidder. I t'oughts that Skwisgaar was always the lead guitarist."
Pickles shook his head. It had been years ago that Magnus died and he didn't think about it anymore. He'd never been too partial towards the deceased guitarist. "Nah. Magnus was the lead, yeeuh. Skwisgare pleeyed riddim 'til the dood died, 'n' then we foond ya. He was a dick. Moostly chewed Skwisgare oot, more den any of ess. Taught'm ahll the stuff he wrote. Magnus wasn' as good a wreeter as Skwisgare, so. . .it was the best fer the band thet he died, rilly. Didn' care too mech myself whin Charlie toold ess he was dead. Don' theenk ennyone did."
Toki nodded slowly. It sounded vaguely familiar to him, this relationship, and he couldn't help but allow for his curiosity to grow. He waited for Pickles to go on.
"He was a faster guitare pleeyer than Skwisgare, ya knoow," Pickles said thoughtfully. "Naht by mech, bett he was. Skwisgare's gatten a laht better over the years; he would be weey faster noow thin Magnus was beck then. He'd been in the indistree fer a lahng time, ya knoow? Since the. . .leete seventies? I theenk? Naht too sher. He tahlked aboot himself a laht, bett I tried naht ta listen. Gaht oold, pritty quickly."
Toki cocked his head at the drummer, brow furrowed. That sentiment too was pretty fucking familiar.
"He rilly didn' leeke Skwisgare. 'R Murderfeece. Me 'n' him gaht alahng, I theenk he respected me at the leest, 'n' he def'nitely leeked Nate'n since he was the frontman 'n' ahll thet, bett he was rilly mean ta Skwisgare." Pickles rubbed at his goatee. "Evin if Magnus waz older, Skwisgare had twice as menny bands under his belt. Said'e was too yahng, liddle naïve, bit too prood.
"Den. . ." Pickles paused to drink. "Magnus died. Gaht oota our hair. We gaht on wid our lives, ya knoow, stahrted lookin' fer a new guitarist for riddim pritty mech reet awee. Skwisgare was a liddle weird aboot whin he died. I theenk maybe dat even though Magnus was a dick to'm 'n' ahll, Skwisgare respected him as a guitarist. Ya knoow?"
Toki nodded. Yes, he understood that very well. He was now leaned over the edge of the tub, hanging on Pickles' words. "How was Skwisgaar weirds, Pickle?"
The drummer rubbed at his forehead, trying to remember. It had been years, but the evidence was still obvious. "Heh. Dood didn' ever cheenge oota the clothes he wore to the funeral. Stahpped wearin' thet white crep. Stahrted wearin' Magnus' oold belt, too. Still wears it."
"The skulls one?"
"Yeeuh." Pickles nodded in confirmation.
Toki blinked. That was really weird. Why in the hell would Skwisgaar wear clothes that once belonged to a man that he killed? That wasn't just weird. . .that was actually almost bordering on sick.
He reached for the towel he'd set out earlier for himself. "I shoulds get out of here, Pickle. I's getting all pruny. I mights go to beds. I sees you later."
The Norwegian was gone before Pickles could even consider a response. Toki had been on the verge of being able to forget about what Skwisgaar had done and said and move on with his life at Mordhaus, but now that uneasiness was returning at full swing. Trepidation swelled in his chest as he neared Skwisgaar's door. He could hear the metronome clicking on the other side, strings alongside it. Even though he was sure Skwisgaar was in one of the trances he sometimes slipped into, he quickened into a light jog. When he got to his room he shut the door with a snap behind him, locking it before sliding down its length to the floor. Sighing, he put his head in his hands.
It just didn't make sense. It didn't fit. Nothing did. Toki's thoughts whirled in his head, seemed to be upside down and out of reach. Skwisgaar killed a man in self-defense, but kept a trophy? Fear was gripping at the Norwegian. He knew that one of those couldn't be true, and since he had seen for himself every day for the past who-knew-how-many years that Skwisgaar wore a skull belt. . .
Skwisgaar didn't just inherit the title as the fastest guitar player alive when Magnus died, he took it. Whatever Skwisgaar had told Nathan when he did it, this was no accident, this hadn't been self-defense. Skwisgaar had killed a man on purpose.
Toki's insides ran cold as he considered Skwisgaar's motive. Or, his best guess towards it, anyway. Skwisgaar wanted to be lead. He wanted to be the fastest guitarist alive. He wanted to be the one that wrote Dethklok's music. He wanted his rival gone.
He held his knees tightly to his chest when he remembered once again what Skwisgaar had said to him on the Dethkopter. Not so much his words, but what had provoked that threat. Sure, Skwisgaar had said a lot of things about selfishness when it came to his problems, but he did about the band, too. About Toki trying to be the lead guitarist, threatening to take the position that he'd already killed one man for.
Shaking, Toki moved from the floor to his bed. He hid himself under the covers, not daring to put his back to the door. Forget uneasiness. It had been replaced now by absolute fear.