Scandinavian Heartstrings, in Drop D.

Chapter 10.3 Black fire within us

Toki could feel the hot up-draft of air before he felt the pounding blood in his temples. His stomach told him he was upside down and it was about to use the gravity assist to push the Akvavit out of him. He opened his eyes a little but the heat dried them quickly before he could focus. The distinctive sound of Nathan's grunting finally made it to his ears. Nathan was moving them up an escape ladder, taking two steps at a time and jumping his right arm up while using his left to hold onto Toki over his shoulder. Toki closed his eyes again; The jerking was not helping his stomach situation.

Wasn't he sitting in his room with half a bottle of Aquavit? The vile taste of betrayal had curled around his mouth with every sip. Fucking Skwisgaar. He'd saved him from that douchebag and he wouldn't even say who that douchebag was, never mind be grateful for the rescue. After everything they had been through, Skwisgaar still wouldn't be honest with him. Usually he would love to see that arrogant, pouty prick brought down a few pegs, but listening to the smallness of his voice, the way he just let himself be taken over, that wasn't fun. Toki had taken no joy in Skwisgaar's legitimate pain and anguish.

No one treated Skwisgaar like that, no one but him. He was going to have the hoods torture an explanation out of their prisoner, tonight. So, bottle in hand, he had marched out of his room and towards the underbelly of Mordhaus. The walls had shook but he'd dismissed it; probably just Murderface deciding that an impromptu Nascar Race would impress Roy. But as he reached the hall before the stairs to the dungeon, smoke had rolled over him. Not cigarette smoke. It smelled like when he left the glue gun on and it singed one of his model planes. The smell of the wood, plastic and adhesive all burning together. There was a cracking sound from above, then everything had gone dark.

They jumped up another rung and a little bit of vomit made its way into Toki's cheeks. Only then did he realised they were going up the ladder instead of down. He opened his eyes despite the heat and saw a skirmish of Hoods against a militia of what looked like fans. Except they had the same green eyes as the zombies from Bloodfest.

'Not these fuckers again.' The Other Toki said from just inside his eyes.

"You're still here?" Toki thought back.

The Akvavit had beaten the Other Toki down, given him less control, but Toki only had to mentally step aside for a split second for him to snatch the wheel of his consciousness.

'Good thing too. Looks like you'll be needing me. Remember, I'm the only one truly looking out for us.'

Toki spat the contents of his mouth at the zombies and watched as it hurtled towards the ground. He was either too drunk, or too sober for this shit.

Nathan had hurtled through the halls and rooms of Mordhaus, screaming Toki's name. Then, there he was, pinned under a fallen beam. He had scooped him up and a path had opened through the smoke, as if by magic, guiding him out of the Haus. He had lept through a broken window into the side of the courtyard. Above them, the tactical hoods were flying on sky-skis to the front lines where servant hoods were facing off with what looked like regular Jack-offs. But there had been something odd about them, something intense. They seemed determined, relentless, and their eyes glowed toxic green. Worst of all, they had been heading straight for him. A missile took the head off one of them and Nathan had watched as it skidded and stopped next to Mordhaus, right next to his next escape path. He had run to the maintenance access ladder, slung Toki over his shoulder, and begun to climb up and away from the battle.

With a last grunt of effort, Nathan reached the top of the Dragon. He lay Toki on the wooden cladding and looked down at the skirmish. "We'll be safe here." He said, more as an affirmation to himself than as an assurance to Toki.

Toki's throat was dry and raw from smoke and heat. He really needed a drink. The feeling of hard glass in his fingers registered in his brain. White-knuckled, he was still holding the Akvavit bottle. He pressed the bottle opening to his lips, almost chipping a tooth in his haste. Nathan's rumbling voice rolled over him like the heat rolling up and over the Dragon's sides. Then he heard another voice, a woman's voice. A sudden stiletto boot sent a matrix style kick to Nathan's face and he was down.