06-05-2017, 10:56 PM
the problem, of course, is that no one could tell you why they wanted a powerful familiar. and -- unfortunately -- going through any checkout line in any grocery store could teach you how to get one. cozmo's covers always had a new trick each month: the new moon in january, a purifying rosewater bath in february, tantric ecstasy in march and hazel wands in april. (may's issue had been all about the equinox, obviously.) the tabloids speculated on what celebrity would show up to the red carpet with a fallen seraph on their arm, how the secret had to do with their repnati ties.
there were straight to television specials about it, you know the ones. the girl with frizzy hair and braces gets covered in pig blood at prom, shows up the next day with a fire djinn. a man with a pig nose falls in love with a blind ice golem. a talking pig goes to the big city with a fairy perched on its curly tail.
pigs were in, this year.
at any rate, a familiar with ancient and terrible magic -- everyone fasted before their summons, but not many thought hard about what might happen if
is this -- pink salt? the demon asked archly. it licked its claw tip again before glowering at him: you have precisely one of your minutes to make your offer.
pink salt, it added in a velvet grumble.
to begin with, it was a demon. that alone -- but not any demon, no! the creature that floated cross-legged bore the mark of cain, a red smouldering half-moon, on its forehead. cain's children had been the first entities to contract with humans, and they had spent the consequent millennia refining their particular sorcery.
at the moment, the demon parodied a human shape. more or less. instead of feet, it had talons. its whole form, in fact, was covered in neither-fur-nor-feathers in midnight's blacks and blues. these tapered off just under its chin, where its alabaster face matched its fangs. it only took a few seconds to realize the best set of eyes to make contact with while talking was the second from the bottom.
they were all a very vivid red. the eyes, that was.
come along then, it snapped, tongue lashing sideways, i haven't all day.
there were straight to television specials about it, you know the ones. the girl with frizzy hair and braces gets covered in pig blood at prom, shows up the next day with a fire djinn. a man with a pig nose falls in love with a blind ice golem. a talking pig goes to the big city with a fairy perched on its curly tail.
pigs were in, this year.
at any rate, a familiar with ancient and terrible magic -- everyone fasted before their summons, but not many thought hard about what might happen if
is this -- pink salt? the demon asked archly. it licked its claw tip again before glowering at him: you have precisely one of your minutes to make your offer.
pink salt, it added in a velvet grumble.
to begin with, it was a demon. that alone -- but not any demon, no! the creature that floated cross-legged bore the mark of cain, a red smouldering half-moon, on its forehead. cain's children had been the first entities to contract with humans, and they had spent the consequent millennia refining their particular sorcery.
at the moment, the demon parodied a human shape. more or less. instead of feet, it had talons. its whole form, in fact, was covered in neither-fur-nor-feathers in midnight's blacks and blues. these tapered off just under its chin, where its alabaster face matched its fangs. it only took a few seconds to realize the best set of eyes to make contact with while talking was the second from the bottom.
they were all a very vivid red. the eyes, that was.
come along then, it snapped, tongue lashing sideways, i haven't all day.