Hmm, your assassination attempt, secret as it must be, seems to be going badly from the coded prompts!
A man down The spider-thing reared up on some of its many legs and its abdomen split open vertically revealing a dark mouth filled with sharp triangular teeth that gnashed the air. Silvery, bubbly sputum washed up over the teeth and dripped onto the floor, where it left dark stains. Ernest put his hands over his ears, but the noise seemed to ignore them and transmitted itself instead through bone and air touching the skin. He felt, for a few moments that were like an age, as though something incredibly filthy was rubbing over him, caressing him obscenely and touching him so deeply that his soul was being corrupted. Memnith changed the way the power was flowing and the symbols on the floor changed their light, gradating into deeper, healthier greens and then into dull blues like deep ocean waters. The spider thing, the demon, shrieked like a kettle announcing that its water had come to the boil and fell heavily back onto the support of all its legs. Wings exploded out from its back and it rattled like a cavalry regiment on formation, and then there was a soft pop and it vanished in a glow of orange light. "That was horrendous," said Lord Derby. He was sweating and his skin was pale and clammy. Even in the office light he looked like he'd run himself to exhaustion and was trying not to throw up. "That was an incarnation of fuzzy logic," said Memnith. He was also sweating, but much less than Ernest. "It affects different people in different ways. You -- and I, to a lesser extent -- find it distinctly uncomfortable because it goes against principles that are fundamental to us. Artists very often find demons intriguing and exciting, possibly because they perceive room to create there." "Is that what causes corruption then?" Memnith shrugged. "Honestly, we don't know. To find out we'd have to carry out experiments that only a demonologist would want to perform. But what you describe as corruption starts off as a willingness to be flexible in more things than the average person, and it grows from there. "That's not very helpful, Andy," said Lord Derby. He swallowed hard. "Any chance of more coffee?"
"Dignity should be thought of as a man down," said Memnith. He had cleared another chair and was sat opposite Lord Derby. The summoning circle on the floor had been cleaned away, coffee had been brought, and both men were ignoring the stains. "There's no hope of him not having been corrupted if he's still alive; I doubt you'd even recognise what he's become. If I were you, I'd focus on finding out what he did there and bringing back the evidence of that. Rescue is not sensible." Lord Derby sighed. "I have no hopes of rescue," he said. "I have almost as little hope that the King will listen to reason and not bid me pursue this. I think though, I would be happier to learn less about demonology that it seems I will have to." "Then look at it this way, Ernest. You're not learning how to use it, you're learning how to identify it. After this you'll be able to find demonologists more easily, and prove what they're doing with less effort. You can turn this to your own ends." There was a short pause. "Why does that sound like something a demonologist would suggest?" asked Ernest.
Maybe it's the target who is the man down? Hmmmm? :P
Wonderfully horrendous description of the demon. And you've managed to deepen my intrigue with the last bit of dialogue as well. Nicely done, as usual.
2 comments:
Hmm, your assassination attempt, secret as it must be, seems to be going badly from the coded prompts!
A man down
The spider-thing reared up on some of its many legs and its abdomen split open vertically revealing a dark mouth filled with sharp triangular teeth that gnashed the air. Silvery, bubbly sputum washed up over the teeth and dripped onto the floor, where it left dark stains. Ernest put his hands over his ears, but the noise seemed to ignore them and transmitted itself instead through bone and air touching the skin. He felt, for a few moments that were like an age, as though something incredibly filthy was rubbing over him, caressing him obscenely and touching him so deeply that his soul was being corrupted.
Memnith changed the way the power was flowing and the symbols on the floor changed their light, gradating into deeper, healthier greens and then into dull blues like deep ocean waters. The spider thing, the demon, shrieked like a kettle announcing that its water had come to the boil and fell heavily back onto the support of all its legs. Wings exploded out from its back and it rattled like a cavalry regiment on formation, and then there was a soft pop and it vanished in a glow of orange light.
"That was horrendous," said Lord Derby. He was sweating and his skin was pale and clammy. Even in the office light he looked like he'd run himself to exhaustion and was trying not to throw up.
"That was an incarnation of fuzzy logic," said Memnith. He was also sweating, but much less than Ernest. "It affects different people in different ways. You -- and I, to a lesser extent -- find it distinctly uncomfortable because it goes against principles that are fundamental to us. Artists very often find demons intriguing and exciting, possibly because they perceive room to create there."
"Is that what causes corruption then?"
Memnith shrugged. "Honestly, we don't know. To find out we'd have to carry out experiments that only a demonologist would want to perform. But what you describe as corruption starts off as a willingness to be flexible in more things than the average person, and it grows from there.
"That's not very helpful, Andy," said Lord Derby. He swallowed hard. "Any chance of more coffee?"
"Dignity should be thought of as a man down," said Memnith. He had cleared another chair and was sat opposite Lord Derby. The summoning circle on the floor had been cleaned away, coffee had been brought, and both men were ignoring the stains. "There's no hope of him not having been corrupted if he's still alive; I doubt you'd even recognise what he's become. If I were you, I'd focus on finding out what he did there and bringing back the evidence of that. Rescue is not sensible."
Lord Derby sighed. "I have no hopes of rescue," he said. "I have almost as little hope that the King will listen to reason and not bid me pursue this. I think though, I would be happier to learn less about demonology that it seems I will have to."
"Then look at it this way, Ernest. You're not learning how to use it, you're learning how to identify it. After this you'll be able to find demonologists more easily, and prove what they're doing with less effort. You can turn this to your own ends."
There was a short pause. "Why does that sound like something a demonologist would suggest?" asked Ernest.
Greg - hah :)
Maybe it's the target who is the man down? Hmmmm? :P
Wonderfully horrendous description of the demon. And you've managed to deepen my intrigue with the last bit of dialogue as well. Nicely done, as usual.
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