Thread: No real title

Years ago I was on a site where my character Spike was a rebellious Muse in a city full of fallen angels, mortals, and everything else in between. What follows is sort of a short novelizing of how the major plot point was resolved. Before anyone says that it seems like Spike was over powered or it was a Marty Sue sort of ending let me first say that the creator of the site, who was playing the Metatron and who also filled in the seat of god, approached me with the idea and helped me work out the details of how Spike would win the fight against something unbeatable... the Metatron was essential a Deus Ex Machina to shake up the status quo and the only Player Characters that died were those whose players wanted them to... so only one other one died but was resurrected in a fun way not covered in what follows. This is only a snippet so there won't be a whole lot of background given to it. Spike had been right and now they all saw it, he had tried to warn them of what was coming but none of them had believed him. The celestial host wouldn't have ever believed the fallen Muse no matter what he said, the warriors of the pet didn't believe that what he told was even possible, and the mortals had assumed that the fallen one had been drunk. Ironically the mortals were the only ones who were right but Spike was usually drunk, or high, or at the very least recovering from a night of burning what little remained of the divine that still remained inside of him. He alone knew the truth, he had discovered that the very Voice of God, the Messenger of the most High, The Metatron, the Arch Angel Gabriel himself was plotting against the throne. Of course Spike had always wondered just how honest Gabriel was when he conveyed the Lords word. Once he had been loyal but when he had refused to stop the birth of punk rock, supposedly on the command of God, Gabriel had passed the word to Micheal that Spike was to be expelled from heaven... it probably didn't help the fact that Spike had just tried heroine, LSD, and downed several bottles of malt liquor. That hardly mattered though, Gabriel had found a host, the hosts of heaven were afraid to make a move against him because they didn't believe that he would make a move without Gods instruction, even Micheal was refusing to raise a hand against his brother, the warriors of the pit on the other hand had split, many of them joining with Gabriel who they saw as a stronger leader then Lucifer, Lucifer who had been unable to find a suitable host as Gabriel had been subtly removing any and all humans who were able to act as host to a being as powerful as an archangel, all hosts but the one that he now occupied. Now Gabriel stood in the center of the city, having vaporized six city blocks just to make a fitting stage, the mortals who had joined together in an attempt to fight him had all been defeated and fled, carrying their unconscious and dying comrades with them... now only Spike stood before Gabriel and the host allied with him. Cousin Aoide, you stand against me now, alone? Gabriel asked with a smile, in his mind he had won and nothing was left to oppose him but a single Fallen Muse who was barely more then mortal after so many years abusing his body and cut off from the power of the Celestial Kingdom. You must know that you cannot win, the power to draw music from nothingness cannot stand against my strength. At the sound of the name he had once gone by Spike flinched a little bit, the bottle of rotgut whiskey that he held falling from his grip as he struggled to stand upright. The name is Spike, and I guess I am standing against you. He slurred, bending to pick up the still intact bottle. Such a crude name for a crude creature. Gabriel said with a mirthless chuckle. But you did serve a purpose in the old regime, in the spirit of family let me offer you a chance to live. If you join me, take your old name and become my Muse then I will allow you to live. Waving his hand he changed the bottle in Spike's hand into a flute, the ragged jeans and t shirt he wore into the finest robes of white linen. Come now Aodie, make wonderful music like you once did, inspire men to compose symphonies of praise to me. Spike looked down at the flute in his hands, tempted for a moment to raise it to his lips and play it once again. It only lasted for a moment though as he drew himself up straight, standing tall and proud for the first time in what felt like years. You fucking Archangels. He hissed as he marched toward what was the most powerful thing walking the Earth. So proud, so high and mighty, you all think that you are the top of the food chain, Micheal, Angel, Gabriel... you are all so fucking sure that nothing in existence can challenge you, but maybe I should tell you a secret Gabriel... let me tell you how I will end you. Doubt flickered for an instant, the claim was so outlandish that Gabriel couldn't even process it. But then he began to laugh, this time full of mirth, amused to no end that he had been challenged by a mere muse, less then a muse anymore. How, will you use the power of music to kill me, will you craft a song to make me realize the error of my ways? Spike merely shook his head as he drew closer. You know I always wondered if you knew what I could really do, if God had ever told you about the true power I possess. I don't just bring music from nothingness cousin, mine is the power to create any sound that I desire. That is when it dawned to Gabriel, he knew what was about to happen... beyond the shadow of any doubt he knew what was about to occur. I have heard the VOICE many times Spike. He whispered, trying to sound more brave then he was feeling. He Knew he could survive what was coming but as confident as the Fallen Muse before him sounded he couldn't help but feel a sliver of doubt. But that was in the Kingdom, in your true flesh... now you inhabit the body of a mortal, and no mortal may hear the voice of the lord... to hear it with mortal ears is to be unmade. There was no joy in these words, no sense of victory... only cold facts, a foregone conclusion revealed for the first time. Cousin, please don't... Now Gabriel was trembling, fear and rage and a thousand other conflicting things keeping him from moving. For the first time since the dawn of creation he knew what it was like to face oblivion, to know that his remaining time was being measured. Spare me. Spike opened his mouth one last time and what issued forth couldn't be called a sound, it was the first sound, with this same sound the creator had brought everything that was and everything there ever would be into existence. For a moment all of reality quaked as Gabriel ceased to exist, every single atom of his body refusing to hold together while his very essence was flayed into nothingness. When the sound ended Spike stood alone, no more Gabriel and a host of demonic warriors slowly backing away from him, fearful of the same fate. Standing tall Spike turned slowly, the smirk on his face a challenge to each and every demon as he slowly sang. There's people out there that say I'm no good, 'Cause I don't believe the things that I should, And when the final conflict comes, I'll be so sorry I did wrong, And hope and pray that our lord god will think I'm good. The host broke at that moment, each and every one of them fleeing from the mortal realm and back to the pit, where they might be safe. Spike continued to stand for a few moments before slowly collapsing to his knees, his head hanging as red tinged sweat dripped from his face... blood seeping from his mouth eyes and ears. Glad they didn't ask for an encore, don't think I would have been able to satisfy. And with that final jest he fell to his face, not even possessing the strength to catch himself. The final spark of Celestial power, the last erg of the energy that had sustained him in the decades since he had fallen from Heaven used up to stop Gabriel. And then he was gone, no body left laying in the dirt. And then he was there, sitting in what seemed to be a rather pleasant Parisian cafe across from a portly gentleman sporting a bowler hat. The smirk returned to Spikes face as he recognized the man who sat across from him. Hello dad, been a while. Not since you had the idea to use music to help people escape from bondage in the United States. God agreed with a smile, a waitress walking by and setting a cup of tea with a scone before him and a bottle full of pale green liquid before Spike, its label showing only what appeared to be a fairy the same color as the alcohol inside. I take it you are still partial to absinthe. Haven't had the real thing in a while. Spike grunted as he removed the cork with his teeth, upending the bottle until nearly half its contents had vanished down his throat. I would say I am surprised you remember but... well the whole omnipotence thing must make it easy. God merely smiled and sipped from his tea before nodding. You have a question for me. A few of them, but you already know them and if I ask why you don't just tell me what I want to know you will no doubt cite free will. His tone was full of scorn now, even in the face of his creator Spike was unable to be humble or polite. But first things first, did Gabriel act on his own when he ordered me to extinguish punk rock? No, I gave the command. But why, I mean you must have know that I would rebel. And if you hadn't rebelled then who would have stood against Gabriel on this day. Had you followed that order then you would have stood aside and trusted that Gabriel was doing my work... but your rebellion is what saved the whole of reality. You could have. Spike argued, knowing that it was meaningless to even try. I don't interfere directly Spike, if I did then what would free choice even mean. I just nudge things in the right direction occasionally but in the end I leave the choice up to others. And now I offer you a choice, heaven needs a Metatron, will you fill this role for me? His mouth agape Spike stared at god, for the first time in decades to shocked to speak. You already know what I am going to say. He muttered when he finally recovered his wits. God nodded gently, setting aside his tea. Then all I can say is shove it up your ass, you gave me an order that you knew would lead to me rebelling, you put all of creation at risk by not stopping Gabriel and you think it is all just fine because you fucking peaked at the ending of the book. All powerful asshole who had read the fucking spoilers and occasionally lets other people in on them after they have already sat through most of the shitty movie. With that he stood, drinking down the last of the absinthe and smashing the bottle against the table to make a weapon. You are facing down the Almighty with a broken bottle? Even god sounded a little bit put off by this, he had known it would happen but when faced with this it was all he could do not to laugh. The message is understood though Spike... however the job will be open when you change your mind. And with the the cafe was gone, Spike was back in his tattered clothing in the middle of the destruction that Gabriel had caused. Around him a few mortals were poking their heads out of whatever holes they had managed to hide in, all of them scared and confused, none so confused as Spike though who felt something that had been gone since he had left heaven all those years ago, his wings were back and with them came his connection to the Celestial power. IT didn't last for to long though, nor did the pure joy that came with the realization that he was no longer quite fallen. Instead it was filled with a curiosity, was it possible to dye them a more interesting color then the pure white? With that thought on his mind Spike set off, knowing that somewhere admits the rubble there had to be a decent bottle of booze left.