With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

18th February 2013
19:21 GMT -7

I sigh as the g-elves escort… An idiotic American college student in. He's dressed like an unusually sheltered middle class youth's idea of what a punk looks like, faux-leather bracers, three hundred dollar leather jacket and jeans that were 'ripped' with a pair of scissors. He looks up at me with a depressing combination of despair and hope. "Ah, Mister… Grayven?"

"Perry.. Jerome.. White."

I make a show of slumping slightly in my chair, elbows resting on my desk.

"How..?"

"Ah… Mister Grayven?"

"A simple question, man. How on earth did you manage it?"

"Well, I…" His eyes shift shiftily as he tries to work out what the right answer is. "I-. The book made it… I didn't even think it was real. Y'know?"

"You, a rank neophyte, with no prior experience of magic, managed to summon up the Queen of the Succubae."

To my surprise and mild satisfaction, he manages to pull himself up slightly.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Ah… My last girlfriend dumped me a couple of months ago, and she-. I'm pretty sure she's been spreading shit about me with all her friends-."

I raise my right hand. He stops talking.

"I can well understand a young man being horny and without a partner. What I don't understand is going from that to selling your soul to Queen Triskele."

"I just… Stopped reading at 'succubus'."

I close my eyes.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

…

Okay.

I open my eyes.

"If you'd stopped reading at 'succubus' then we wouldn't be in this position. So am I to understand that your aim was to summon up an idealised sexual partner and make merry, and worry about the bill later?"

"I just… Figured she'd.. want… 'Vital force' or something?"

"Mister White, Japanese pornography is not a reliable guide to demonology. Also." I close my eyes again and shake my head. "Triskele has the form of a giant skeletal snake with an androgynously beautiful face strapped to her skull. Now, I'm dating a horse, so I'm not going to criticise you for having extra-anthropological tastes, but…"

"There were… There were, like, other pictures on the page, and I didn't really… I didn't know she was the snake, I just thought… I thought the bones were… You know, decoration."

If I ever find myself in the room with the man responsible for World of Warcraft…

"I hope that the rest of your studies are going rather better than the 'F' I'm giving you in demonology."

"'F'-? The spell worked, didn't-?"

"It didn't achieve its stated objective."

"OW! Fuck you!"

Mr. White winces as his wish is pushed into the room, bound hand, foot and neck with enchanted bonds of iron, the neck bracket attached to poles held by federal agents on work experience.

One suitably nubile succubus, magically able and willing to indulge his every desire. Which unless I miss my guess probably started at the occasional mildly unusual sex act and quickly morphed into supportive girlfriend things that she'd find painfully boring but was too scared of her queen to say anything about.

"Jer-ry! They're hurting me!"

"Do you have your immigration paperwork?"

"Wha..? I'm American."

Improbable breast-waist-hips ratio, flawless skin without makeup, purple hair and… I sniff. Yes, a mild aphrodisiac scent. None of that is impossible for a metahuman, but a metahuman wouldn't suffer burns from the sanctified iron.

"You're a demon. And while the two aren't necessarily contradictory, I had Mister Constantine go through your alleged paperwork."

"Constan-?" … "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck."

"Not quite sure what he's got that I haven't, but sure. Be worried about him." I gesture to the two agents accompanying her. "As you can see, the United States of America is a little better prepared to handle things relating to magic these days."

"Ah, babe? I think we should probably cooperate."

"But Jer-ry! The queen's gunna be super-pissed!"

I shake my head. "You know full well that in four years it's not going to matter anyway."

Mr. White looks at me nervously. "Why? What happen in four years?"

"The pact isn't 'until death'. It's 'until Triskele gets bored'. Five years at most, then she drags you off to Hell."

"…" His eyes widen. "F-uuuuck."

"You can get out of it! Just make a new deal! It's like a mortgage!"

Mr. White looks at me for confirmation.

"Yes, if you can scrounge up a new innocent soul to sacrifice, that would indeed work. The last person Mister Constantine found in your position habitually kidnapped and sacrificed babies to fulfil the requirement."

"Fuck."

"Sure!" The succubus rattles her chains. "Just let me ditch these guys and I'll get right on it, and on you."

I gaze levelly at Mr. White. "Seriously?"

"I-I don't wanna murder babies!"

"You wouldn't. You'd kidnap babies. The queen would kill them. And maybe not even then! Sometimes they just get trained as cultists, or sold on to other people!"

I lean forwards. "May I assume, then, that I will have your assistance in un-fucking this situation?"

He nods, while his succubus concubine just looks away, disinterested.

"And you."

"Whaaa-aat! You're ruining my contract!"

"Yes, but let's be honest with ourselves: you don't actually like Queen Triskele. Do you?"

"She got me this job." … "So no, she suuuucks."

If possible, Mr. White slumps a little further.

"It was just one puppy! I have needs." … "And wants."

"So I intend to tug on your contract to get Queen Triskele's attention. Work with me, and you will avoid prosecution and eternal damnation both." I hold out my right arm. "Shake my hand."

He shakes.