maskormenace | (no subject)

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[On the network is what appears to be a young boy, about 12 or 13 years old. For a moment, he stares quite soulfully at the video output impossibly deep, black eyes, and then pokes at the screen with one fingernail.]

Not even a proper imp in there, how's that for you...?

[He pulls back and mimes clearing his throat. A voice far, far more booming than is fit for the child's face resounds across the feed.]

Right, broadcast. AHEM. This is just a friendly, non-suspicious question, inquiring on when the next coup or violent overthrow of this government is going to be. Not that I'm actually advocating it, I just know you humans really can't resist.

I'm pretty handy with a popcorn machine if anyone can provide good seats.

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I'll own up to my own flaws. I'm a wriggly bastard.

I wouldn't call it wriggly so much as intensely screwed up and enough education to be dangerous.

You still hardly know me, you know. Do I remind you of someone, perhaps?

[ Yes. ]

You flatter yourself.

[ He knew it, dammit. ]

Nathaniel?

[ Yes. ]

Did I say yes? I didn't say yes. Here's with all of the assuming again.

But I'm right. I can tell.

[ HACKLES UP. ]

You know, he probably wouldn't appreciate his name all over either. Just a pro tip there.

Oh whatever. You're the only one who can actually hurt him with it.

[ Oh, not exactly true. But that's hardly information Bartimaeus is going to be giving out. ]

Can't say that's not fair though. He tries to hurt me, I turn it on him. Seems balanced to me.

I thought you were friends.

[ Maybe. The chance is gone now. ]

Okay, let me lay this out nice and clear. There is no way you can be friends with a slave. I was never there willingly. Never took an order that didn't involve do it or be bound and or killed if I didn't. Just staying in the material world is draining and painful.

I might give the odd bit of particularly savvy advice, which he always ignored. But trust me, if he could have kept using that marvellous range of punishment spells on me? He would have. He did with the other slaves.

[ He missed some of that, but ... ]

What do you mean, if he could have?

[ He narrows his eyes. ] Exactly what I said.

Why couldn't he?

Because a spirit can use names in interesting ways, Miles Naismith Vorkosigan.

[ Yep, that was probably a mistake. Whatever. ]

And humans can't, Bartimaeus?

[ Bartimaeus' expression flattens, anger filling the child's eyes in a rush of glowing red, and his lip curls.

He doesn't answer. It's on the network, any amount of bullshitting around it would just draw attention. He just flicks the line off. ]

[ What - what the hell was that? He'd been expecting a lively argument or something. Not ... that.

So he was right then. To the point where it's probably dangerous.

Clearly this calls for a private message a few minutes later. ]

I've guessed right, haven't I?

[ What comes up on screen is not human. Not by any measure of it. The roar of voice is so loud it causes a clang of discord over the audio line, and distortion over the visual at the sheer heat of the demonic form in front of the camera.

Whatever it is that the djinni has chosen, he's not happy. ]

WOULD YOU LIKE TO BRAG, CHILD?

[ Holy shit. He was not expecting that reaction; even Miles Actual Hurricane Vorkosigan can be startled enough that he drops the comm with a clatter. But - dammit, he can't be hurt over the network, probably. And Miles in his eternal wisdom scoops the comm back up to push harder. ]

Bartimaeus.

[ The fire blazes, going white at the increase of heat, blue around its teeth. The darker spots, like cooled lava flows drawn down into a sneer. ]

YOU IGNORANT, SELF SERVING FOOL!

What are you afraid of, exactly? My complete lack of magical prowess?

[ He leans in closer to the video feed. That's way more confidence than he feels. Inside, he's quaking. And his comm is trembling ever so slightly in his hands. ]

Or is it possible I could do something even without any of that?

[ The comment with Nathaniel's name has been ICly deleted. ]

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