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Thread: A Strange Summons[M] {DamoniquexYzaidkaine}

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    Default A Strange Summons[M] {DamoniquexYzaidkaine}

    Rated M for all the good stuff. Coarse language, violence, psychological horror, sexual themes/situations, Drug/Alcohol references, so on and so forth.

    A voice echoed throughout the neither, called so because it was neither here nor there, a transitory place of swirling, multicolored mists. Those mists were the Djinni, 'Demons' as the humans regarded them. Why and how they came to be there, none knew, nor did any ask, they simply were and had been since all memory, one moment, nonexistent, the next, present in multitudes.

    The call attracted some attention, a few of mists swirling agitatedly or changing color in surprise, before settling down when they realized the call wasn't for them. Some were glad to be left alone, others disappointed. While none of the Djinni particularly LIKED humans, after a few centuries stuck in the same company, one yearned for a change of scenery. Eventually, the call reached a patch of mist colored what Zefien thought to be a quite vibrant shade or purple, and it stirred, confused.

    But it was his name, there was no mistaking that, and he for forced to follow the call towards it's source, a few of the other Djinni spoke to(or, moreso, thought at) him. Some were jealous, others berating, all asking for him to give the full story on his return. Stories of their summons, and the deeds they did whilst shackled in the mortal world, were the only thing that set one Djinni apart from another, so they tried to collect good ones.

    Eventually, he reached it...the summoning point. It was point of light no larger than the head of a needle, but it was enough of an opening to allow a demon through the barrier that seperated their world, this the neither, from the other one. Thee human place. Earth.

    The passage was painful, as it always was, as if the world he was entering knew he didn't belong. But the summons was powerful, and before long, he was across the borderline, flowing out like a vapor into the world of men. Now, the only question was who wanted him here. And why.


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    A young and beautiful woman kneels before him as she finishes the summon it closes behind him. Her white curls frame her dark skin golden eyes dart up quickly. "It worked..." I stand gracefully my head bowed I wipe my face clean of sweat before looking up. "Hello there dijin..."

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    Zefien's essence flowed out of the tear in reality as a pale ribbon of silvery smoke that swirled around the confines of the summoners circle, sending out tendrils to test the edges, probing for some flaw in the design, but found only painful jolts for his trouble. His summoner knew her art, that was clear.

    And speaking of his summoner...she was dark skinned, with almond-shaped Amber eyes that glinted like molten gold in the candlelight that illuminated the small study he'd been summoned to. Median, or Egyptian, perhaps?

    The silver mist coalesced in midair into a sphere of liquid with the sheen of mercury, then flattened into a disc, a perfect mirror showing her own reflection. It was a djinn approximation of stretching, getting used to the physical world and the many states of matter that composed it that were lacking in his native dimension.

    "Just Djinni? Really? No 'infernal demon' or 'capricious spirit'? How very polite of you." It was her reflection's mouth that moved as he spoke, in a voice that didn't match it, deep and threatening, a rasp like steel on a whetstone. There was a glint of amusement in the reflections features, though.

    "Greetings, mortal. You have my name, Zefien, the blinding light, the frozen moon. It would only be fair you allow me your own, Miss...?" He continued in a sultry whisper, emphasizing his chosen epithets by making the disk blaze to life with an intense white light that, rather than warming where it shined, was a bitter cold. When the light faded, the face looking back at her was still her own, but now wearing a sweet smile of razor fangs between those plush lips, and two onyx-black horns jutted from behind her ears, parting the white hair around them. And the eyes...in place of her own golden orbs were two clear stones that sparkled like diamonds.
    Last edited by Damonique; 12-19-2018 at 04:01 AM.


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    A smile danced on my face "I do not give you my name but you may address me as Morgana." My chosen wording shows I have dealt and dealed with the Fae Folk before. My demeanor is calm but there is also a dangerous sparkle to my eyes. The summoning circle is not the simple one of salt or wax instead it's engraved on the carpet where you where summoned. The room was lighted by candles and the faint smell of the nearby ocean was noticible. The studio is rather messy filled with books and materials. "As for me being polite... Let's say it is a precaution... I've dealt with Fae and some others not as brash as you... Wording is everything for your kind...Now if you will... Let's get down to forming a contract shall we?" I get a book and fidget with it's worn leather cover the language on the spine is clearly ancient Egyptian. I only stare at you curious and ispecting it from afar I sit crosslegued and my clothes are simple cotton.

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    "Morgana....Old name, false name, that of le'Fay. Fitting, as that wasn't her true name either. Caution is a trait you share, among others, young sorceress..." Zefien spoke, recalling a time gone by. It truly was an apt moniker, for this sorceress, whoever she was, had a similar air of confidence and authority to her, and the Djinni couldn't help but wonder if this one, too, would find all her hopes dashed and efforts ruined.

    The twisted reflection in the surface of the mirror took a step forward then, and literally walked out of it in fully corporeal form, shifting shapes again, this time to that of a tall, elegant woman dressed in flowing black fabric from head to heel, with jet-black hair to match. It was the form of the first Morgan Le'fay, but for those diamond eyes, at her most beautiful, before childbirth, sleeplessness, and paranoia had worn away her body and mind. In this shape, Zefien sat cross-legged from the sorceress, mimicking her body language.

    "A contract, yes, promises and pacts, blood and a kiss. Such is the curse of my kind, to play the marionette at the end of your strings....or so you tell yourselves. Very well, Sorceress, what does your heart desire...and what are you willing to pay for it?" Zefien continued in the calmest, most compromising tone, as the face of Morgan le'Fay he wore slowly aged and withered before her very eyes, until he was nothing but a skeleton crouched before her, a simple reminder of age and death, the two things nothing, not even the power of a Djinni could save her from.


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    "Do not mock the name for it is not from the person why I've taken it... Morgana lefray was stupid and selfish and couldn't see the big picture... I unlike her know the price of magic for I am one of it's weilders... As for what my heart desires it matters not for I will form not a contract but an opportunity... Work with me... Not against and I'll let you walk amongst this world and I will set you free of those that keep you in prisoned..." Morgana is my given name but to me it has no value egypcians have a secret name that if know gives you power over the person. My words are sharp and dipped in silver, the reason they call me the snake charmer is because I can dance with devil's and not get hurt my cunning and wording are always guarded and beautiful to hear. My voice is soft like the waves of the coast. I look at your figure "you dare mock a scribe in her own abode... You are not of they Fey Folk now are you?"

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    "I was mocking you, not the name, Morgana. Le'fay's failings were the same human weaknesses you all fall to, love and fear, lust and fury. Emotion, my dear, always the emotion..." The demon trailed off, the steel-on-stone rasp becoming a serpentine hiss as he assumed the form of an albino viper that slithered out from the eye socket of the withered skull, moments before the whole skeleton crumbled into dust and appeared to blow away in a nonexistent breeze. The snake coiled around itself, as if poising to strike, displaying fangs.

    "You would trust me so much, as to willfully release such a serpent into the garden that is your world? Surely you recall the first time that happened...Lucifer won't stop bragging about it..." The snake hisses from it's coiled position, dripping with a mockery more thick than any venom. Only desperation or self-hatred would force one to take such an action, set a spirit loose on little more than that a vocal agreement. Still, there was that expectant gleam there. This sorceress was no novice, and wouldn't make such an offer lightly.

    "You offer me words like fool's gold, sorceress, pretty to the ear, but worthless. Weather with you or for you, I must still do your bidding, and the freedom you offer is a fleeting thing. Your invitation is all that keeps me on this plane, and should tire of my company, or have your life cut short in the sudden and painful manner I expect, back to the neither I go." The serpent continued, bobbing it's head back and forth in mimic of shaking its head. There was still little on offer here, as to make much good of this arrangement, Zefien would have to both further this 'Morgana's plans and defend her from harm if he wished to take advantage of the offered freedom, which itself was only appealing to a point.

    What would he do? Where would he go? Djinni's interactions with the mortal world were usually limited to carrying out their masters orders, and their life in the neither was entirely devoid of decisions. What would he do with freedom? Some Djinni might kill for sport in some act of revenge, others indulge in tempting mortals to their own destruction. But Zefien had little interest in either, as humans died and brought themselves to misery so often and easily without assistance. But there was something of interest here, his summoner herself, who seemed somehow both confident and naive at once, to make such an offer at all.

    "So why the theatrics at all, you summoner? You come simply make your pact, settle a price, and send me off to do your will without such pretenses. Your offer sounds like a more....permanent arrangement. It's flattering to see my company is worth so much to you, but why?" Zefien finished, awaiting what answer the sorceress could come up with to justify wanting an unbound spirit hovering over her shoulder, waiting for her to misstep, even once, and place herself at his mercy.


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    "I offer you more than what you think... I wish to tie your magic to mine... As you probably know scribes don't have unlimited magic, but with the help of a powerful dijin like you... I could have an unlimited magic source but your freedom would come with rules... Like in the days of pharaohs create a pact with one of your kind and our natural magic would be amplified..."

    - - - Updated - - -

    I am calm and confident I look at your snake form without even batting an eye. "I see you have a dlair for the dramatics..."

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    Zefien was actually startled, as the fullest implications of his summoners offer were revealed, startled so that he momentarily forgot to maintain his physical state, the viper's bloodred eyes widening for a moment before the snake exploded back into cloud of silvery vapor it had began as, so violently that it occupied the entire are of the circle in which he was confined.

    In an instant, the cloud reformed, this time into a more expressive form, that of a tall, impressively muscled man with skin white as bone(fully nude of course, for what need did a demon have for modesty?), and the head and shoulders of a black jackal, ears standing up straight at attention, jaws half-parted to reveal row upon row of razor fangs that did not belong in the mouth of any natural beast, tongue lolling. It was an apt form, that of one of her gods. She was she right, he did have a dramatic flair to him. It cocked it's head to the side, one eyebrow raised, in an entirely human expression of 'really?'

    "Such an art, to take a part of me into you, entwine our essences without giving up the separate wholes. More than mere possession, more than a mere loan....a permanent link. I've heard tales of this from my brethren, and there is a reason your ancestors chose to forget how it was done, burn the books and kill the priests..." He spoke, suddenly turning his attention to the large tome the sorceress had open before her, taking in the age, the form of the hieroglyphics, archaic even for that already near-dead language. This was no bravado speaking, this woman had the means to actually do such a thing.

    "And to think you balked to give me your name, when such rite as this makes that such a petty thing in comparison. I've been told that the ritual is painful, visceral, and simply....wrong, on so many levels, as your kind and mine were never meant to be so close...." Zefien continued, a manic glint shining in the Jackals eyes, and he recalled the other part of the tales, the ability to feel the sensations, mental and physical, of the mortal with whom they paired, the breadth and depth of emotion that he could only imitate in mockery.

    It was....intriguing. He knew some of his kin would reject such an offer outright, even despite the opportunities it may provide, so great was their hate for mankind, but Zefien had been always fascinated with the tales of those Dijin who had experienced this, wondering if it were truly all they described or mere exaggeration, and now here he was being offered the opportunity to learn firsthand.
    Last edited by Damonique; 12-21-2018 at 02:25 AM.


    Spoiler: Favorite Quotes(Changed Monthly) 



    Damonique and Natora, Joshua and Jessica, over a million words strong and the story goes on and on and on.....

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    "you have taken the very fitting form of Seth... God of the unruly nature of the dessert god of foreign beings and blood pacts... But for our pact it takes something more powerful than blood... Let me become your eye and you will experience mortal pleasures and I will experience your power..." I stand now looking up at you yet not down at you "my ancestors believed the union of our kinds to be sacred and to be protected at all cost those that destroyed my culture believed it to be unholy and unnatural. I am a child devoted to my culture and people and I wish to make my culture what it used to be... Help me"

    - - - Updated - - -

    I walk amongst the circle my bare feet silently padding around the circle as I grab my serpent engraved staff. "Your choice of appearance is humourous because I follow the path of Seth he is my patron god..."

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