Supernal Diaspora [Mage: The Awakening]

Toobuluar Waves

You know, sometimes you just have to watch the classics. The works that put the greats on the map. Like walking down Wall Street. You just stand there in the middle of it all and breathe deep. Reminds you why you’re alive! Now, if you’re a demon on a budget, like yours truly, you watch CNN. It’s not nearly so immersive, but you gotta admit, Ol’ Pigriddle rode Cramer’s soul right to the big leagues!
Hell, I coulda done that if they’d given me half a chance. Instead I’m sitting here on this second rate couch, watching a third rate TV, overseeing what was supposed to be a fourth rate account. I got no idea why nobody wanted this one. Kid signed on the dotted line, didn’t even ask any questions. When I went back to get my stuff not a damned one of them would look me in the eye. Annoying as hell that, like I was off to my own execution or something.
Buncha pussies, all of ‘em. Hell, this didn’t even take anything fancy. Your standard 7 year term, property and anchor provided for services rendered, rent to be paid monthly. After I move in and send for the interns, kid just walks in, looks me straight in the eye and asks how he gets the house back. Obviously been screwed before. I’d have to guess he’s not too bright, or he’d stop making deals with the things what screw him.
Cramer’s going into his usual near epileptic fit over this stock or that stock, and you can feel the mortals just eat it up. “Hey, Stumpnozzle, pass that popcorn over here.”
My top intern is on the job. I may be pimping sweet lady greed, but there’s nothing wrong with a touch of gluttony now and then. And all that butter. Just like I love it.
“What was that Stumpie?”
“I didn’t say anything boss.”
I take a quick look around. All the other guys are cheering Cramer on like a bunch of soulflints at some kind of sporting event. This right here? That’s the Infernal Dream that is. You get yourself a good old fashioned mortal to do your selling for you. Folks are usually a little hesitant to deal with us directly. I don’t know, something about the horrible visage and sulfury smell I guess. But you get a good old fashioned WASP up there slinging out that wonderful siren’s song, “MONEY MONEY MONEY!” You just sit back and collect your 10% off the drooling masses.
“DAMNIT! Stop whispering while I’m watching TV. Next one to do it spends the night in the yard.”
The boys all stare at me blankly. It’s times like this I wish I were as good at catching liars as I was at lying. That’s when it starts. There’s just a quick jolt. I’d think it was an earthquake, but the trees out the window don’t even budge. When the voice starts up again I know I’m in deep shit.
“Suspende vivre ejus…”
Oh crap. Somebody’s doing something to my meal ticket. I don’t speak good supernal, but I’m fairly certain this ain’t good. Just to nail the point home the room rocks again and a book case of shitty self help books crashes to the floor.
“Ad commandus!”
And just like that all hell opens up. Literally. The damned summoning circle I burned into the floor gets traced in flame as the wood drops out into infinity and I’m left staring straight into the Inferno. If you’ve never been I’ll save you the trip. It sucks. And not just figuratively. The damned thing gets a firm grip on my leg and pulls as my fingernails leave deep claw marks in the upholstery.
The boys are running and screaming like it’s the end of the world. I reach out and kick off of Stumpnozzle for a little momentum to a better handhold and watch him go falling forlornly down into the whole and devil knows where. The hole wants me, but just maybe I can stuff it full of interns…
My grip slips and I know, I’m going back. There’s nothing to do about it now, but I can still get one jab back at that kid. Whoever did this thing put a trigger in there for a command. We’ll just have to see about that you bastard, try talking with a mouth full of gold!
I focus my mind and find him standing right over the kid. I mutter to myself and reach out for his contract nulling tongue, but just like that, he shrugs it off as I go flying off the couch and slam down onto the edge of the circle. One last bit of spite gets me scratching into the floor. It ain’t much, just a couple symbols really, but it’ll have to do. Ol’ Man Screwtape ain’t going to like this…


MParker546 Fowlor

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