aesthetically displeasing

[andaisq]

Mortimer Halliwell, warlock extraordinaire and small-time crook, is having a remarkably bad day. First he runs out of the good coffee and has to use Folgers. Then the demon he summons to rob a bank for him only speaks Egyptian, which is hell on his throat. Then the demon gets discorporated and tracked back to his lair/duplex, the door of which is currently being battered down by some cheerful blonde madman.

He needs to summon another demon, and he needs to do it fast. He whips out the Black Book, flips desperately through its pages, and arranges the offerings around the iron circle set into the floor of his basement. A phonebook, a pile of dust, a miniature casket, a oh my god he got in screw it he'll do it without the rest!

He forces an immense amount of energy through his body into the summoning. The dust whirls into the air. He screams as his skin crackles and snaps with static. "I summon thee! I summon thee! I summon thee, K-Kh-"

It is possibly the most regrettable sneeze in Mortimer Halliwell's life.

There is a plume of red flame, and there is someone in his circle.

Comments

[bitterchill]

Ari cannot be reached right now! He is busy gibbering.

A voice fills his mind. Ice and fire, ice and snow. Fear, but never let it show. Ice and fire, ice and snow. Fear, but never let it show. After a bit of this he starts thinking along with it, not noticing or caring that he's saying it aloud.

[ending_of]

The administrator waits.

[bitterchill]

After a few minutes of the mnemonic, Ari has calmed himself down enough to be somewhat presentable. His breathing is still shaky, but he thinks he can talk again.

"I. I need to remember not to soulgaze any more gods. Sorry."

[ending_of]

"It was interesting. But it seems to have distressed you."

[bitterchill]

"You're. Big. Your soul, it's really big. I don't think humans are built to see that. I'm glad you had fun."

[ending_of]

"I was human once."

[bitterchill]

Ari considers this.

"I could see that," he decides. "But you're a lot more now. You're big."

[ending_of]

"True. Do you remember what you were doing before you accidentally fell into my soul?"

[bitterchill]

"Ah- the scrying? Yeah, I think I can get the note to Probably God through a mini-portal. If you looked through the portal, could you make the notes where she is from then on?"

[ending_of]

"Yes."

[bitterchill]

"Alright. You make the note, I'll make the portal."

He starts chanting in his usual Germanic, but it's a bit more complex than his usual incantations. It demands that a path be opened by his false death, a path to where he should go, held open by his continuing life. At the climax, he bursts into flames. Damn, but this immortality thing is handy.

A rip opens in the air and expands until someone could probably fit their hand inside.

[ending_of]

The administrator sends a note through it. The note is made of diamond, the words inlaid in obsidian. (Paper is ephemeral.)

Your domain collects only one category of aware life. All the rest, and some unlucky members of that category, can be permanently destroyed. May I have those?

[bitterchill]

The portal snaps shut after the note goes through, rather as someone might slam a screen door that has blown open.

A note appears, written in clipped ancient Hebrew on slightly glowing lambskin. Please don't open another gate to the afterlife from the mortal world. It upsets the universe. Also, stop making people in this world immortal, it messes up my thermodynamics. What do you want to do with the soulless?

[ending_of]

But now that she knows where her note went, it's trivial to create a second one in the same place.

I want to collect them in my domain. I dislike impermanence. This world has too much of it.

[bitterchill]

Is your domain somewhere beyond the Outer Gates? I don't see where you came from. And impermanence is a part of how I made this universe. If high-energy beings continued to exist, it'd degrade the boundary between this world and the Outside. And that boundary keeps out an infinite sea of horrible monsters, which I'd rather not have an infestation of.

[ending_of]

My domain is elsewhere. What I collect in it will not affect this world at all, unless accidentally summoned here in the way I was. The infinite sea of horrible monsters sounds very inconvenient.

[bitterchill]

I assume that by "elsewhere" you mean "somewhere beyond the infinite sea"? I did not know there was anything else. If you can collect them without bothering me, why did you bother me about it? The monsters are very inconvenient; a great deal of my power and a substantial portion of my world's construction is devoted to keeping them out.

[ending_of]

I was advised that collecting them without permission might be impolite and cause conflict, which I would rather avoid. Would you like assistance with your monster problem? It's outside my usual area of interest, but a universe being overrun by infinite monsters sounds extremely untidy.

[bitterchill]

Take them if you want, I don't know how you're going to do it and I don't particularly care. How can you help with the Outsiders? Do you understand the word "infinite"? Because I'm using it very literally.

[ending_of]

"The entity has allowed me to collect this world's permanent dead," she says aloud for Ari's benefit. "I offered to help her deal with her sea of infinite monsters, but she did not seem interested."

[bitterchill]

"What, really? I guess she's got it under control," says Ari, who has not read the faintly glowing lambskin notes.

[ending_of]

"Not very well under control, I don't think. But she asked me if I understand the word 'infinite', and explaining the extent to which I do would be more effort than I would like to apply to convincing her to let me have a look at her problems."

[bitterchill]

Ari tries to parse this.

"That... was probably a rhetorical question. I didn't think God did those. Can I read the notes? And yours, too?"

[ending_of]

"Yes."

She instantiates a small booklet reproducing their correspondence, and including translations of the Hebrew in case he has difficulty reading it.

[bitterchill]

"Thanks." Ari flips through the booklet.

"...Man, God sure is ornery. This is kind of theologically weird. I can talk to her as an intermediary if you'd rather not deal with her?"