SU PLEH FANFIC
Nov. 11th, 2003 12:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kolAnd because I have too much time on my hands...
Part One of ???
A![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
supleh! Fanfic
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I don't even own the characters. I am but a pitiful moth attracted to the light of one of those tabasco cans like that Super Bowl Comercial from years ago. No, not the one with the frogs-- the one with the tabasco! :P. Anyway, read on and realize this was written during a chat with mouth pain and makes no sense XD.
* * *
In a small tower made of fluffy purple and magenta clouds, a tall form with miniature pixie wings sat watching the largest TV screen in Heaven. Well, almost the largest.
His name was Ezequeel, the Grigori of clouds, and he was a Dextor's Labratory Addict.
Ezequeel sighed happily, his miniature wings fluttering softly on his broad back. He was a massive beast, Ezequeel-- he was 11 feet tall on a bad day, which made finding comfortable couches a difficulty.
His wings were tiny, not even a six inches in length, but he was broad of his wings-- they were the largest out of all the Grigori!
As a Grigori, Ezequeel was supposed to keep in touch with men down on Earth, but after thousands of years of tending to God's flock, Ezequeel and the rest of the Grigori were bored.
The only fun things the mortals ever did was create wars to bet on and... the goodness that was reality tv.
The big secret in Heaven was that the big guy in charge turned a blind eye to the underhand bets, even participated in the first Survior poll.
Which reminded him, Ezequeel thought as he fluttered his wings thoughtfully, the big guy still owes me five bucks.
Just then, the silly mortal drama known as "Dextor's Labratory" was preempted for an Angel's Netword Boardcast message.
"NOOOOOOOO!" The Grigori of Clouds screamed, throwing his bag of Stale Guacamole Doritos at the screen. "This is the part where Dexter finally defeats Deedee! NOOO!!!!"
"Gah, keep it down Ezequeel!" A grumpy voice complained, and Ezequeel's least favorite fellow Grigori arrived, complete with bright, blinding light and a burning sensation on Ezequeel's skin.
It was Shamshiel, the grumpiest Grigori ever created who had an annoying habit of making flashy entrances
And Ezequeel meant that literally.
"Go away." Ezequeel grumbled, although he knew Shamshiel was too dense to get even the most direct hint. Shamshiel needed glaring BLINDING threats... and Ezequeel was out of weapons.
"Did you hear? The Big Guy is MISSING." Shamshiel grumbled in his most grumpiest voice. Except for Shamshiel it was almost a sound of GLEE for anyone who knew him.
"Wha?" Ezequeel stared at the round Shamshiel, wondering if the angel had finally cracked a joke. "Are you... are you trying to make a joke, Shamshiel? Because this? Is sooo not funny."
A female Grigori-- the only female Grigori that existed due to a freak change in mood during her conception... of sorts... floated in to the tower via a small window in the ceiling. It was Sariel, and she was... as usual... pissed.
"Dumb stupid asses. Don't you read the Angel Press?! GOD IS GONE! This is horrible! But just like a MAN! GAH!"
Suddenly the female Grigori bent over in pain, her beautiful face contorted in a grimance of absolute pain. "AHHH!!!! PAIN!!!!" She screamed, the top layer of Ezequeel's tower blowing away from the volume.
"Could you stop doing that, Sariel?" Ezequeel complained as he got to his huge feet, reaching up to mold the top of his tower back together.
"Why?! WHY?!" The shorter angel yelled, jumping up to kick Ezequeel in the shins.
"OW!!!!" Ezequeel groaned, his miniature wings trembling
"You big baby! Take it like a MAN! Or MAN GRIGORI! YOU DON'T KNOW PAIN!!" Sariel shouted, the top level of the tower floating off again.
"GET OUT!" Ezequeel shouted, the left half of his tower floating out.
A shrill tilter behind him spelled the arrival of Azazel, the strangest Grigori of them all. And that was saying something.
"Oh, Ezequeel, you look so horrible in such a fit! Go sit down and let me massage your woes away!" Azazel giggled, waving his long fingernails at Ezequeel in a coy manner
Sariel rolled her eyes, Shamshiel grumbled, and Ezequeel did as only Ezequeel could-- by picking up his doritos and sitting on his couch.
"DON'T YOU KNOW ANYTHING?! GOD IS MISSING!!!" Sariel shouted, and the last wall of Ezequeel's tower blowing off.
Azazel fluttered his pasted on four inch neon green eyelashes. "Oh, I know big girl! I-"
"DID YOU JUST CALL ME BIG?! I KILL YOU!!!!" Sariel screamed, charging towards the strange Azazel.
The offending Grigori held up one hand, a coy smile on his cosmeticed face.
"I'm a lady and will not be molested in such a way! I entreat you, if you approach in such a fashion I will be forced to defend myself!"
Ezequeel snorted. "Reading Regency Romance Novels again, Azazel?" He said before stuffing a handful of stale Doritos in his mouth.
"RAAR!!! Romance Novels are EEEVILL!!!" Sariel screamed. She lurched towards Azazel, a look of primal rage on her face, but stopped inches before Azazel.
Sticking out right between her eyes was the handle of a very large Soup Spoon.
"I warned thee," Azazel coyly said as Sariel toppled over backwards, stunned, "but thou listened not!"
"Azazel, stop it. Archaic language is so last century."
All assembled Grigori looked to the newest member of their strange moltely crew. It was Armaros.
Armaros was a strange Grigori, much less Angel.
His wings were barely visible, not even a full inch in length, and were unable to even produce a flutter.
His abilities were an eclipse of his brother Semjaza's-- he was unable to do anything, really,, without his brother doing it first.
But Armaros had nothing to do for over 30 years, ever since Semjaza decided to take a nap.
A 50 year nap.
And since Armaros's powers were only to end his brother Semjaza's powers... Armaros had nothing to do.
Well, besides organize the current Survivor and "next world figure to have an affair with Monica Leinski" pools
* * *
And that is a wrap for tonight
"Sad But True"
Part One of ???
A
supleh! FanficDisclaimer: I own nothing. I don't even own the characters. I am but a pitiful moth attracted to the light of one of those tabasco cans like that Super Bowl Comercial from years ago. No, not the one with the frogs-- the one with the tabasco! :P. Anyway, read on and realize this was written during a chat with mouth pain and makes no sense XD.
* * *
In a small tower made of fluffy purple and magenta clouds, a tall form with miniature pixie wings sat watching the largest TV screen in Heaven. Well, almost the largest.
His name was Ezequeel, the Grigori of clouds, and he was a Dextor's Labratory Addict.
Ezequeel sighed happily, his miniature wings fluttering softly on his broad back. He was a massive beast, Ezequeel-- he was 11 feet tall on a bad day, which made finding comfortable couches a difficulty.
His wings were tiny, not even a six inches in length, but he was broad of his wings-- they were the largest out of all the Grigori!
As a Grigori, Ezequeel was supposed to keep in touch with men down on Earth, but after thousands of years of tending to God's flock, Ezequeel and the rest of the Grigori were bored.
The only fun things the mortals ever did was create wars to bet on and... the goodness that was reality tv.
The big secret in Heaven was that the big guy in charge turned a blind eye to the underhand bets, even participated in the first Survior poll.
Which reminded him, Ezequeel thought as he fluttered his wings thoughtfully, the big guy still owes me five bucks.
Just then, the silly mortal drama known as "Dextor's Labratory" was preempted for an Angel's Netword Boardcast message.
"NOOOOOOOO!" The Grigori of Clouds screamed, throwing his bag of Stale Guacamole Doritos at the screen. "This is the part where Dexter finally defeats Deedee! NOOO!!!!"
"Gah, keep it down Ezequeel!" A grumpy voice complained, and Ezequeel's least favorite fellow Grigori arrived, complete with bright, blinding light and a burning sensation on Ezequeel's skin.
It was Shamshiel, the grumpiest Grigori ever created who had an annoying habit of making flashy entrances
And Ezequeel meant that literally.
"Go away." Ezequeel grumbled, although he knew Shamshiel was too dense to get even the most direct hint. Shamshiel needed glaring BLINDING threats... and Ezequeel was out of weapons.
"Did you hear? The Big Guy is MISSING." Shamshiel grumbled in his most grumpiest voice. Except for Shamshiel it was almost a sound of GLEE for anyone who knew him.
"Wha?" Ezequeel stared at the round Shamshiel, wondering if the angel had finally cracked a joke. "Are you... are you trying to make a joke, Shamshiel? Because this? Is sooo not funny."
A female Grigori-- the only female Grigori that existed due to a freak change in mood during her conception... of sorts... floated in to the tower via a small window in the ceiling. It was Sariel, and she was... as usual... pissed.
"Dumb stupid asses. Don't you read the Angel Press?! GOD IS GONE! This is horrible! But just like a MAN! GAH!"
Suddenly the female Grigori bent over in pain, her beautiful face contorted in a grimance of absolute pain. "AHHH!!!! PAIN!!!!" She screamed, the top layer of Ezequeel's tower blowing away from the volume.
"Could you stop doing that, Sariel?" Ezequeel complained as he got to his huge feet, reaching up to mold the top of his tower back together.
"Why?! WHY?!" The shorter angel yelled, jumping up to kick Ezequeel in the shins.
"OW!!!!" Ezequeel groaned, his miniature wings trembling
"You big baby! Take it like a MAN! Or MAN GRIGORI! YOU DON'T KNOW PAIN!!" Sariel shouted, the top level of the tower floating off again.
"GET OUT!" Ezequeel shouted, the left half of his tower floating out.
A shrill tilter behind him spelled the arrival of Azazel, the strangest Grigori of them all. And that was saying something.
"Oh, Ezequeel, you look so horrible in such a fit! Go sit down and let me massage your woes away!" Azazel giggled, waving his long fingernails at Ezequeel in a coy manner
Sariel rolled her eyes, Shamshiel grumbled, and Ezequeel did as only Ezequeel could-- by picking up his doritos and sitting on his couch.
"DON'T YOU KNOW ANYTHING?! GOD IS MISSING!!!" Sariel shouted, and the last wall of Ezequeel's tower blowing off.
Azazel fluttered his pasted on four inch neon green eyelashes. "Oh, I know big girl! I-"
"DID YOU JUST CALL ME BIG?! I KILL YOU!!!!" Sariel screamed, charging towards the strange Azazel.
The offending Grigori held up one hand, a coy smile on his cosmeticed face.
"I'm a lady and will not be molested in such a way! I entreat you, if you approach in such a fashion I will be forced to defend myself!"
Ezequeel snorted. "Reading Regency Romance Novels again, Azazel?" He said before stuffing a handful of stale Doritos in his mouth.
"RAAR!!! Romance Novels are EEEVILL!!!" Sariel screamed. She lurched towards Azazel, a look of primal rage on her face, but stopped inches before Azazel.
Sticking out right between her eyes was the handle of a very large Soup Spoon.
"I warned thee," Azazel coyly said as Sariel toppled over backwards, stunned, "but thou listened not!"
"Azazel, stop it. Archaic language is so last century."
All assembled Grigori looked to the newest member of their strange moltely crew. It was Armaros.
Armaros was a strange Grigori, much less Angel.
His wings were barely visible, not even a full inch in length, and were unable to even produce a flutter.
His abilities were an eclipse of his brother Semjaza's-- he was unable to do anything, really,, without his brother doing it first.
But Armaros had nothing to do for over 30 years, ever since Semjaza decided to take a nap.
A 50 year nap.
And since Armaros's powers were only to end his brother Semjaza's powers... Armaros had nothing to do.
Well, besides organize the current Survivor and "next world figure to have an affair with Monica Leinski" pools
* * *
And that is a wrap for tonight
