A Mortal World (598 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 5 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Magicaddict (View user info) at 2005-10-31 21:04:08 EST
Walking down the street on this evening is, from my point of view at least, something akin to a chef working in a factory kitchen: Mundane, sensorially offensive, and full of people who think they can cook.
Oh, how these mortals disgust me.
Every year, in their stylised and pathetic way, they claim my most sacred night as their own. The Evening of All Hallows used to be truly magical, the normally firmly sealed door to the other worlds coming slightly ajar to those who truly had a purpose on the other side of it. The fun we used to have was real, tangible - not like the crass, sanitised and ingenuine bullshit I see currently surrounding me. Back then, a properly constructed ritual would put you within touching distance of the Great Lord -something that everyone should try at least once during the course of their existence. Now, the best you can hope for is some manifestation in an unaware subject, probably causing them to spontaneously climax wherever they may be at the time. How standards have slipped.
Take this group of four coming towards me - in the lead, sporting a pair of furry red horns, carrying a similarly fluffy trident and wearing an unfeasibly short skirt, we have what their wearer would refer to as a demon. My dear, if a real daemon actually ever saw you, they'd probably kill you on sight.
You clearly have no idea of daemonic codes of practice or mannerisms - just looking at your demeanour tells me that. I'm sure you think you look hot, wearing that little, but I'm afraid I have news for you, child - in the ranks of Succubi and Incubi (that's the male and female versions of seduction daemons for all you hard of Nightbreed out there), the more clothes you can wear and still remain physically irresistible marks out your status - and any who need to wear that little to pull wouldn't even be granted the title. If Lilith or any of her close friends walked down the street, fully clothed and with only their eyes showing from the depths of their cowl, the only sign that anything was out of the ordinary would be everything male instantly sprouting the granddaddy of all erections and following her in line astern wherever she chose to go - and you have to strip half-naked to keep hold of your boyfriend. Pathetic, and overtly depressing. Put some fucking clothes on.
What do we have here? A witch? Yes, she must be - the fishnet tights and pointy hat clearly mark her out as one. I wonder, what colour of magic do you practice? Which school? Who's incantations did you learn from? Would you know magic if it tore off your oversized belt and fucked you in the ass?
I didn't think so, yet there you are, waving your wand around as if you know what to do with it. Once again, unknowingly, you are marking yourself out as less than a child among mages - anyone who actually needs a focus to cast things wouldn't even be let out by themselves, let alone around unaware company, and a mage who displays that much skin is clearly making up for the lack of something else. A true mage, male or female, is a graceful, poised and exquisitely polite individual, whether mortal or not - and they would never stoop so low as a black tutu, fishnets and ankle boots. Any novice of the black school would fry you alive for insulting their practice, to say absolutely nothing of what their mentors would do.
Next in line...ah...Frankenstein's monster. Bless.
Shelley's fable has a lot to answer for - and none of it is any good. Animants are a serious business, and are a result of necromantic magic, not electricity. You don't need a laboratory to create them, you need the powers of undeath at your command.
I'll give you that you're lumbering along like a typical zombie, my friend, but unfortunately the favourable comparisons end there. For a start, you're missing your minder - if you truly were a zombie, the only way that you could be this far from your animator would be if it were a lichlord or something higher and was controlling you by direct dominatory link. Either you're getting it wrong, or someone at home is doing you a great favour by pretending to sit still and concentrate very hard. Call me cynical, but I'm erring on the side of the former.
And what's that you're eating? Chips? Congratulations, idiot - unless they're an unusual, unsalted type, you're breaking your own animator's control over yourself, something they would never allow you to do while under their command. Do your research, you damned retard - if you were real, you'd be standing still, wondering how to walk (indeed, what walking was) for the few seconds that you were still vital before your necromancer destroyed you utterly for trying to escape them. Imbecile.
Oh, for crying out loud...
Now this, I find truly offensive: Black wedding dress, deeply split to reveal excessive leg, pasty white face, tastfully arranged black rose and...yes...fangs. This misinformed little freak thinks she's a vampire.
What is this obsession that mortals have with vampirism? Films constantly glamourise it, books paint it as erotic, romantic, tragic - everything save what it actually is. It's just a way of life, you cretins - get over it.
If you're a vampire, child, what are you doing socialising with these types of people? An animant, a micro-mage and something that claims to be a succubus. You're the nobility of the Breed, you fool - you wouldn't be seen alive around these people, let alone in the state you are claiming to be right now. True Nosferatu are an introspective race, either travelling singly or packs of their own kind.
Which, incidentally, isn't a bad idea...yes, you pathetic little bitch - I think you'll do nicely.
Notice me.
Very good, you see my gaze, holding you in a way you don't understand but strangely cannot resist. Leave them behind, come over to me. Yes, check me out - you find me exquisitely attractive and immediately start to have dark thoughts about me. Sarah? A beautiful name...for a mortal. A pity you are dressed so poorly. We can sort that out later.
My name? I could tell you - most women find my being called Lucian just adds to my personal enigmaticism, but as you've spoken to me, you're already under my control and will neither think, act nor speak without my express command.
Come into the alleyway my dear - I have a whole new world to open your eyes to.
User Reviews
Submitted by Wrightcopy (user info) at 2005-11-01 13:44:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow.
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2005-11-01 12:35:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Cool.
Submitted by Hirilnara (user info) at 2005-11-01 05:57:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2005-10-31 22:15:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yeah. So where the fuck was this for GrUeberfest?
Ya coulda bin somebody. Ya coulda bin a fender.
Submitted by Ferretnose (user info) at 2005-10-31 21:13:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
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