Day 7 - Furryklok Or Demonklok KLOKTOBER

Day 7 - Furryklok or Demonklok 【 KLOKTOBER 】

No kloktober today, just panties appreciation day 【 METALOCALYPSE 】

Kloktober 2024 Day 9

Use someone's parents

I was initially not going to do today's entry but I realized couldn't miss the chance to address Skwisgaar's issues with Servetta. Or, well, one of many I suppose.

Thank you Servetta for helping create this deeply traumatized guitarist that I love!

Skwisgaar walked into the classroom. He could notice the eyes on him, and it made him apprehensive, but he didn’t want to show it. Instead, he just sat in his usual seat at the end of the left, right by the window. 

A group of girls whispered nearby him, and clearly they weren’t being quiet enough because he could still hear them. 

“My mom said his mom is…a disgusting person.” One of them said.

“Yeah, my parents told me not to talk to him.” Another replied.

“I think she tried to sleep with one of the teachers!” A third girl said. 

“No way!”

“Yeah, Ebba told me!”

“Ew, then he shouldn’t even be here!”

Skwisgaar glared at the girls and they stopped, pretending to look away. As soon as he laid his eyes off them they started whispering again, except this time he couldn’t hear them anymore.

He watched the snowfall out of the window, wiping his eyes before the tears had a chance to drop. He didn’t need to add ‘crybaby’ to the rumors about him and his mother. 

Not when so many of them were true, anyway.

–

A group of boys ran away when they saw Skwisgaar coming. Laughing and stealing glances at him, they disappeared into the crowd in the hallway. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened, so when Skwisgaar reached his locker, he wasn’t exactly shocked.

There were scribbles all over it, insults to him, his mother, crass jokes, obscene drawings. Pretty much the usual stuff. He was a little surprised when a postcard came flying out when he opened his locker, though.

It was a picture of his mother from the 1956 Miss Sweden contest. Someone had drawn nipples and a bush over her bodysuit and written on the side: “I came to this picture 100 times last night. And you, Skwisgaar?”

“Oh, my God, that’s horrible!” A feminine voice said and Skwisgaar turned in her direction. 

It was Hilda, the appointed nice girl of her class. She had shoulder-length black hair and big auburn eyes and was staring at his locker with horror. Or, wait, was her name Helga?

“Eh, I’m used to it.” Skwisgaar said, tossing the postcard into the nearest trash can. 

“It’s still terrible.” Hilda or Helga replied with her arms crossed and a judgemental look. Skwisgaar noticed that there was a girl by her side. She was biting down her lip, like she wanted to say something.

Skwisgaar knew that look damn well.

“Is it true your mom slept with Erik from 9th grade?”

“Krista!” Her friend scolded her.

“What? You wanted to know too!”

“What are you-”

“Probably.” Skwisgaar closed his locker with a slam, startling the girls. “I don’t really care.” He turned his backs on them and walked away. 

It was always the same.

–

“Dude, Skwisgaar.” 

“Yeugh?” Skwisgaar raised his eyes from his guitar. He was tuning up by the ear.

“You told me you didn’t have a mom, dude.” Matthew said. He was the curly-haired vocalist of the American band Skwisgaar was currently part of  and he was a constantly smoking weed. 

“Uh, ja.” 

“Well, I looked you up last night, dude. Since you said you were famous in Sweden…why didn’t you tell me your mom was a total hottie? I would’ve so banged her!”

“What? Show me the pics!” Rick, the drummer, yelled from the other side of the room.

“I wanna see too!” The bassist, whose name was something like Ryan, joined Matthew on the couch. “Woah, no way!”

“Yeah, dude…”

“That’s one hot slut!” Rick exclaimed, peeking at the phone from behind the other two.

As he watched his bandmates fawn over what were presumably pictures of his mother, Skwisgaar was reminded of a feeling he thought he had left behind just like his hometown. 

That ugly, ugly discomfort when people spoke about his mother. Made him feel so powerless and vulnerable, even though it wasn’t on him.

Even though none of it was on him.

–

“Yeah, I heard of you.” One greasy manager told him, slinging an arm around Skwisgaar’s shoulder. 

He was at the New Year party of a big label. He had been invited by one of his ex-bandmates because he briefly replaced the guitarist of one of the bands they represented and he would never turn down free alcohol and drugs. 

The only downside was the annoying people that acted familiar with him. Like this jack off.

“Skwisgaar Skwigelf, right?” He said, with a drunk breath. He was a middle aged man, his gray hair slicked back and wearing a couple of sunglasses even though it was night. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Eugh, rights…” Skwisgaar said, already annoyed by the proximity of the man. He hated when people got on his face like that. Unless they were floozies, of course.

“I actually worked in Sweden some years ago.” The man continued. “Your mom was a total sensation back then.” 

“Ja, she was a bits ofs a celekbrities…” Skwisgaar said with disinterest, mildly relieved the conversation was just boring, rather than uncomfortable. 

The man leaned in to whisper into Skwisgaar’s ear. “They say she slept her way to the top…” He placed his hand on Skwisgaar’s waist. “What about you?”

Infuriated, Skwisgaar shoved him away and left, gripping the drink in his hand.

“Hey!” He heard the man call him. “I was just joking, come back!”

There it was again.

That feeling he had worked so hard to abandon.

He hated it.

–

“What ams this?” Their latest addition, Toki, had been snooping around Skwisgaar’s stuff for a while. He was a bit like a child, excited over everything and constantly asking questions. He reminded Skwisgaar of an overstimulated dog. 

“Mmh?” Skwisgaar kept fretting mindlessly and Toki showed him a magazine with himself on the cover. “Oh, dat ams and olds thingks…when I was just gettingks starts…”

Toki paged through the magazine, searching for the Skwisgaar article. “Founds it! Buts I can’ts reads anyt’ings…” He sounded dejected.

“Dats woulds be because it ams in skwedish.” Skwisgaar said, still playing. 

“Waits! It shouldn’ts be thats hard…” Toki squinted at the text. “En…kommande…gita-gitarr? Gittartala- Oh, it ams too hards!” He started looking at the pictures instead. “Wowee! Why ams dat a pages rippeds of?”

Skwisgaar flinched unwillingly. “Eugh…it has somethingks I didn’ts wanna sees…ja.”

Toki tilted his head, awaiting more information and Skwisgaar swallowed heavily.

“It, was, eugh, my moms.” He tried to say casually.

“Oh…”

The pace of Skwisgaar’s playing increased unconsciously. He closed his eyes, feeling his body tense up, his heart rate picking up. 

…But nothing happened.

Confused, he glanced at Toki, who kept inspecting the magazine with curiosity. “So cool…” He whispered in awe at some picture of teenager Skwisgaar posing with a guitar.

“Yous not goignks to ask abouts dat?”

“Whys?” Toki turned the magazine upside down, confused. “I donts gets this…” There was a cryptic illustration on the page. 

“Because it ams my moms?!” Skwisgaar asked, in disbelief. 

Toki’s stupidly innocent eyes laid on Skwisgaar. “Buts you donts wants to talks about it.” He said as if it were obvious.

“W-Well, ja, buts everyones always-”

“Parents ams hard.” Toki said, and it was like the naivety had left his face suddenly. “And…we ams not thems.” His eyes were hard, as if he wasn’t just talking to Skwisgaar anymore.

Come to think of it, Toki hadn’t really talked about his parents either, had he?

And, instead of the discomfort Skwisgaar had grown used to over the years, he felt something different. Something he hadn’t felt since he was a child, since his mother cradled him in her arms and sang lullabies for him. 

He smiled, embracing the sentiment. “You ams wise for a littol snot-nosed brats, heuh?”

“Ams not a brats!”

Skwisgaar chuckled with fondness. “Thanks you, Toki.”

Toki blinked, scatterbrained as ever. “Whats for?”

Without replying, Skwisgaar looked out of the window. The snowfall was inclement as ever.

But things weren't the same anymore.

Kloktober 2024 Day 6

Road Trip or Drug Trip

I love thinking about how a lot of Toki's life experiences where with Dethklok because prior to that he was pretty much isolated from the world.

Today's entry is an example of that, featuring my holy trifecta: Toki, Skwisgaar and Pickles. Because, of course, Pickles can't be missing when it comes to recreational drugs ;)

When Toki saw Skwisgaar and Pickles hanging out in the living room of their apartment, he got curious.

Ever since he joined Dethklok, he had practically clung to Skwisgaar like a baby koala would to a mother. He was the one he felt closest to, in more than one way.

And, Pickles? Well, he was no Skwisgaar, though he was pretty approachable too so Toki walked up to them to ask them what they were up to.

In an almost solemn manner, Pickles tapped at the sofa he was sitting on, and Toki sat next to Skwisgaar, leaving very little space between them. Skwisgaar barely reacted.

“Toki,” Pickles leaned in, like he was going to open his coat and show him the rarest candy in the world. “Have you ever tried acid?”

“Acids?” Toki repeated in confusion. “Whats lemons tastes like?”

Skwisgaar groaned and Pickles let out a belly laugh. “Nuh, nuh, I mean…” He stretched his hand in front of Toki and opened it. A single orange square with a green skull drawn on it laid on his palm. “This.”

“Wowee…” Toki inspected the tiny drawing. “What ams this?”

“Whaddya think?” Pickles grinned at him. When Toki didn’t seem to understand, he stuck his tongue to reveal a white square on his tongue. 

“Oh!”

“Ja, Tokes, we ams doingks drugs.” Skwisgaar said, resting his back on the couch. “Kids hours ams overs.” He closed his eyes, seemingly relaxed.

Pickles gave Toki a mischievous look. “Unless you wanna join the adults.” 

“Uhm…”

“Pickle, no,” Skwisgaar intervened, still with his eyes closed. “He ams goingks to flips out and thens I’ll has to takes cares of him. Likes always.” He muttered the last two words.

Ignoring his bandmate, Pickles offered his palm to Toki. “So?”

“Mmh…” Toki’s gaze alternated between the drug and Skwisgaar. “Mmh…” He kept looking, undecided. “Okays!” He accepted, took the small tab and put it in his mouth before he swallowed. 

“Atta boy!” Pickles patted him in the shoulder, chuckling.

“Now whats?” Toki asked.

“Now…” Pickles laid down on the couch. “You wait…”

“Oh…” Toki frowned in disappointment.

He hated having to wait.

–

Bored off his mind, Toki fell asleep on the couch, only waking up when Murderface dropped beers in the kitchen and Nathan yelled at him in frustration. 

The initial grogginess didn’t wear off after a few seconds, and Toki felt slow and kind of stupid, but not in the way weed made you feel slow and stupid. Not in a happy, funny way, no. It was daunting and he felt weirdly empty and lost. Like there was something off with him. Like there was something really wrong with him. And what were those moving spots on the wall, were they always there? Wait, where did they go?

“How is it goin’, Toki?” Pickles asked with a sleazy smile, he was now smoking a blunt. “Feelin’ it yet?”

“Uhm…” Toki gazed at his surroundings, trying to find the spots again. “Ams…” The patterned floor seemed to be moving now. “What ams happenings to mes?”

“Ye’r trippin’, dummy.” Pickles said. “Do ya like it?”

“Uhm, n-nots reallies…” Toki replied, feeling like a stranger in his own body, in his own home. “Cans I stops?”

“Dere we goes…” Skwisgaar shook his head. “Now he ams goingks to cries and ruins my trips.” He clicked his tongue in frustration. “Dis is fuckingks dildoes…”

For some reason, rather than wishing to prove Skwisgaar wrong, Toki felt weirdly enabled by the commentary instead. “Ahhh!” He cried, huddling to Skwisgaar for comfort. “Dis ams scaries! Makes it stop, Pickle!”

“Toki, gets off me…” Skwisgaar grumbled, though he hardly did anything besides that. 

“Ahh!” Toki lifted his feet off the floor, convinced he had just seen a squared snake slithering around. “What the hecks?!”

“Haha, he said heck…” Pickles giggled, amused by the sight. 

“Skwisgaar!!!” Toki shook the guitarist’s arm. “I don’ts likes this!!”

“And I don’ts likes you clinginks to mine arms but whats cans I does…” Skwisgaar stared at the ceiling. “Eugheugh, dere ams somes guitars floatingks deres.”

Pickles followed his gaze. “Oh, yah, that’s totally sick, dood.” He pointed at a spot on the ceiling. “They have like, little stars all over and they are twinklin’, twinklin’...”

Toki raised his eyes and saw nothing but the white boring paint and the fluorescent light blinking, attracting moths. “Why amsnt I sees the sames things yous see? Why amsnt I on de sames trips you has?! Whys?!”

“Toki.” 

“Whats?” Toki looked down in despair. 

Pickles was smirking at him. “Just let it flow, dood.” Then, he blew smoke into Toki’s face…

…And it was like he was transported into a different world. He glanced around and he was floating on a big white guitar. More specifically, a Snowhorse Explorer. The sky was shifting colors in irregular shapes and lines, constantly everchanging, constantly moving. Unlike the sky, the guitar had a permanent form, moving forwards and carrying Toki with itself. 

Curious, Toki peeked to see what was under and spotted rocky mountains, covered with polka dots of different colors. It made for quite the beautiful sight. However, when he looked closer he realized the dots were actually skulls. Hundreds, thousands of skulls all over the mountains. And some of them still had eyes, glaring at him with such hatred that he was instantly reminded of his parents.

“Ahh!” He looked away, clutching onto the guitar for the lack of anything else to hold.

“Toki.” A deep voice resonated and Toki tried to search for the owner to no avail. The guitar vibrated under him when the voice spoke again. “You gotsa to calms down.”

“Skwisgaar?” 

“Ja.” Skwisgaar said. “Dis ams likes a guitars solos. Yous controls it.”

“I does?”

“You have the power, Toki.” Another voice said, up in the sky and Toki looked up. There was a beer bottle amidst the chaos. “Make it yer thin’.”

Before Toki could say anything, however, the sky abruptly turned into a whirlpool, pulling Toki inside. The guitar accelerated and Toki had to grab onto it so as not to fall. He wasn’t scared anymore, though, just curious about where it all led. Well, he was maybe still a little scared, except the curiosity weighed more.

As they approached the inners of the swirl, the colors began vanishing, turning into blinding white instead. The buzzing in Toki’s ears was deafening, so much that he couldn’t hear himself screaming anymore. He couldn’t feel his hands either, or the rest of his body. It was as if he was fading away, disappearing into the light, so he closed his eyes…

And suddenly everything stopped. 

Toki opened his eyes to a completely different sight.

It was still colorful, albeit slightly less chaotic. Purple blue skies and magenta clouds decorated by flowers. Pink sand with big gummy bears on one side, and fresh green grass with mushrooms on the other. Kitties floating on gigantic candy. And rainbows, so many rainbows. All over the place.

It was beautiful. 

The Snowhorse descended to let him down on the ground, where Toki began happily exploring. He could even spot a castle in the distance and, somehow, he knew in his heart that it was his. That this was all his.

His heart swelled with happiness.

–

“Uhh…he hasn’t moved in a while.” Pickles said, eyes reddened but slightly worried. “Should we call the ambulance?”

“Eugh, no ways, we’ds gets arresteds.” Skwisgaar replied. After a moment, he turned to Toki, whose eyes were closed, and he smiled. “He ams enjoyingks it.”

“He is?!”

“Ja,” Skwisgaar leaned down and picked his Snowhorse. “Soes lets not ruins dats.” Unceremoniously, he began fretting on the guitar. 

And it turned into the most beautiful music in Toki’s world.

Day 4 - Dressed to kill 【 KLOKTOBER 】

Day 6 - Road trip or drug trip 【 KLOKTOBER 】

A/N : Based on my Klokllege AU :)