"Huh. You don't look very demony."
"I only put that on for the other demons. I'd much rather look human."
That makes a subtle kind of sense. He was born human, he still thinks like a human, of course he wants to look human.
"Why's that?"
"How you look affects how people think about you. And how you think about yourself. If a demon looks big and scary not only do people get scared of it, but the demon thinks of itself as something that's scary to others. And that it's supposed to be scary. I'm not any weaker because I look like this than I am when I look like pink lightning that's on fire, but other demons assume that I don't have what it takes to win in Hell."
It's the same thing with Mammon. He looks like a bloated Lothario because that's the image he wants others to think of him. Or Etrigan, who's as close as you can get to a superheroic demon in terms of appearance.
"So it's a pose?"
"Everything's a pose. What changes is how much it matters. Look."
Image is everything. And to demons, it matters a lot.
I hear a rustle.
"Here. Everything we agreed. And, there, my demonic-magic-pretending-to-be-human-blood. Now if you just-."
Boy, he's rushing through this. John is
that scary, then.
"I'm going to read it first."
"Heh-hah. You've got a lot more sense than John, I'll give you that. More sense than me, to tell the truth."
Honestly, if she can keep that good sense in mind, she'd go far as a Constantine. Too bad she doesn't have enough to just leave well enough alone outright, even if she
weren't being encouraged to help.
"What d'you mean by that?"
"That's how I died, isn't it? John asked me to take a look at a fundamentalist Christian groups called the Resurrection Crusade. I didn't spot the wards around their server and it burned my body to death while my mind was outside of it."
A neat summation of his mortal fate. And one that puts all the blame on John...
"My dad used to be part of that. But then Uncle John happened."
Okay, he's physically present. I'm not going to get a better chance than this.
Ambush time. Simpson isn't going to know what hit him, is he?
"Yeah, he does that. Are any of them left?"
I burrow filaments into the floor, poised to shoot upwards to grab whatever's available.
Honestly, Simpson really must be in a rush, if he didn't lay
any arcane warning signs about...
"I think they've still got a few people in America who are part of it."
"I'll have to pay them a visit. You finished yet?"
"Yeah. I think we're finished."
That's your cue, OL. Have at him.
I fly, bulldozing the intervening walls and office furniture as my filaments leap up and attach themselves to the poorly prepared magic circle and subvert it.
"Mister Simpson."
Heh, this'd be a brown trousers moment... If he still had any flesh.
"Shit!"
He drops-
Subverted.
Yoink!
-into the ground up to his knees before coming to an abrupt halt.
"Shit!"
Yes, you
should be afraid. Sticking your fingers in places they don't belong...
"Mister Simpson, you have a simple choice."
"Ah…" He gives up on pulling his legs out. "Shit."
Just accept it, man. You're nicked.
"You can explain to me what's happening of your own free will, or-"
"Do you-?"
"-you can explain to me what's happening of your own free will after I warp your mind to suit my desires."
I would probably keep that option open after this, just in case.
"Hey! What the hell is this? I haven't hurt anyone!"
"Apart from the time when you attacked the Justice League's headquarters."
Under Satannus' purview, that first Christmas, wasn't it?
"Yeah, but-. I thought we were square! I helped you fight the Host!"
"And I'm grateful for that, but protecting the Earth from people who intend it harm is part of my job and I've heard enough to convince me that you're involved in the spontaneous machine animation that's happen happening lately. And I would appreciate an explanation."
Do be quick about it, we haven't got all day.
I frown.
"Also: language. You're not in Hell at the moment."
And in the background Gemma just rolls her eyes. She's probably heard worse at school.
"I know! I'm trying to leave!"
"You're the ruler of a circle of Hell, and after Neron and Satannus vanished you don't have anyone over you. You've got all the resources you could want, legions of assistants and more arcane lore than most people could read in a lifetime. Why do you want to leave?"
Well, by
those standards, he's in paradise...
"Because it's Hell, you ffff-. Idiot! It's full of demons! I don't want to be there!"
"You're not there now. I don't particularly mind you hanging around. We can just blame Satannus for-."
The problem is, he needs to be in Hell, or...
"It's not that simple!" He waves his right fist for emphasis. "If there's a gap in the hierarchy someone will fill it. And the first thing they do will be make sure that I won't ever come back. And then it's back down to the bottom of the hierarchy, surrounded by people who want to make sure I stay there. Did you see how they treat the weak-spirited in Hell?"
...
That. Better a fool like Simpson, rather than someone smart, or worse,
ambitious enough to be eyeing up the seats of his betters...
"'Rendering'?"
Gemma squints at me. "What's rendering?"
"That's where they break down souls for parts, which are still slightly aware, suffering horribly with no hope of respite."
What you might call a fate worse than death. Except, you know, you're already dead. And it's unfortunately too many who weren't good
enough.
"… Oh. That sounds…" She looks from me to him and back again. "Can we let him off?"
"I'm not really clear what we'd arrest Mister Simpson for anyway. But I do need to hear a full explanation for why the God of Technology is waking up early."
Ah, finally, back on topic. Chop, chop, Simpson, get talking.
"That was my escape plan!"
"You become its high priest or… Father? And the other demons don't dare bother you?"
Eh, he's already declared his dislike of his neighbours.
"No!" He gurns. "No. I was trying to study it. Look, I used magic to transfer my consciousness into the internet before I even became a demon. I'm planning-."
"To.. transfer yourself into the foetal god..?" I frown. "Is that possible?"
To put it simply, Magic is freaky. Gods are freaky. This is a
whole other level of freaky.
"I think so. It's basically an unformatted data storage device, right? It's not near enough to the surface… To the world, to get specific experience. So if it's got any personality, it comes from its nature. The only things stopping someone from interfacing with it is its raw power and how its not fully connected to the world yet."
"And you fixed that."
Ugh, idiots poking the things they don't fully understand...
He nods.
"Borrowed a few cultists from demons who owed me favours." He looks mildly puzzled. "Should be.. here…"
Wait for it...
He makes eye contact with me.
"Oh, right."
There it is, the moment he realises: He. Dun. Goofed.
"John Quinn couldn't detect it."
"They're passive and warded. Not easy to detect. I'm a bit surprised he couldn't work around it, but not everyone as cunning as Constantine. I don't mind trying to work out how to dampen the side effects. If I get some help-."
"Plan 'Richard Simpson Becomes a God' is firmly off the table. Ring, contact the Justice League."
Zatarra, Blaze or Mist? Who would be best to take custody of this git?
