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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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?

THINK BEYOND YOURSELF, YOU LITTLE TWIT.

YOU JUST GAVE MY NAME TO A LARGE POPULATION OF PEOPLE WHO MIGHT BE ABLE TO, WITH NO REGARD TO THEIR SCRUPLES OR MOTIVES!

Which you still shouldn't be afraid of, because I doubt any of us can do anything to you. Unless we can.

[ A pause ... and a sharp gleam in his eyes. ]

I can delete that comment, of course. If I want to.

[ It probably speaks to the fact that someone CAN or could by the fact the fires dim, and the demon stares balefully at the camera, thoughts churning. ]

Sod off.

[ That's done it. Miles may not be a magician, but that doesn't mean he can't calculate like one. This djinni is no worse than dealing with a Baron, surely. ]

Leave it up then? If you insist. But the longer it stays, the greater the odds that people find it.

Edited 2017-01-14 04:06 (UTC)

And you want what?

[ What does he want from a djinni? From Bartimaeus specifically? Well - he had genuinely wanted to make nice with one of Kitty's friends. But even manipulative Miles rules asking for that right out. ]

What do your magicians usually call on you for? To grant wishes?

[ Oh yes. His dislike has never been actually higher than right now. ]

Embarrassing enemies, thieving from enemies, thieving from friends, killing enemies, killing friends, kidnapping loved ones, tormenting people with no ability to fight back anyway and occasionally fetching or building status symbols.

[ Bartimaeus gives him an ugly smile. ] Welcome to the ranks, what would you like?

[ Nothing to thieve from his enemies here. Embarrassment unwise, the rest abhorrent ... And no status symbol can bring back Gregor, can it.

Miles goes from cocky to exhausted in the space of a breath. ]

Words for words. Stop calling me short.

[ And here it is, the moment he'd been waiting for. The thing that makes being in THIS world just a little sweeter.

The ability to say no. ]

Suck it, half man.

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