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In memory of Flyin' Black Jackson
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545984 No. 545984 ID: 097017

You are Mephistopheles, the Compromising Aspect of The Dragon. Many mortals whose fates could have altered the course of human history have faltered, fell and faded away for listening to your gentle whispers.

For some time you've been the paragon of your craft and a champion of your kind's doomed cause... But all that is about to change. You've felt more of that hated divine influence work harder and faster on the face of the Earth than ever before.

The Messengers have been lengthening their stride and quickening their pace, and even the Grand Architect seems to have been suddenly taken by the condition of his footstool. It's not just you who feels things are coming to a head... and The Fallen have to follow suit if they're going to make any sort of lasting brand before the Great and Terrible Day.

To be concise, The End is near... And there's much work to be done.
Expand all images
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No. 545987 ID: 4a27cd

Since we've known for a very long time that this was coming we've been preparing for this, right? What's the plan, and what complications do we have to deal with?
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No. 546030 ID: 097017
File 138318277056.jpg - (17.01KB , 450x338 , 91290-bigthumbnail.jpg )
546030

Your eyes dart over the adumbral chamber of the still, uniform figures to locate the source of the voice... and in short duration they find their mark.

"Plan?" you crow in a stark, hollow harmony, echoing his question. The abrasive contrast from your usual nebulous and wispy voice reins your entire audience into focused attention, though their forms never move.

Mirrored candles light in the twin voids of your sockets as your gaze firmly clutches at your pupil.

Your addressee instinctively turns his head several times to his statuesque colleagues knowing he'll find no aid, no sympathy from his peers. An anxious silence permeates the room.

And then you laugh.

A long, bitter, mirthless laugh absent of contentment, foreign to all hope and alien to any sense of satisfaction. A cheerless chorus of voices leaps to life as they join in your dispassionate mockery, all of them your own. As the rich, desperate tones fade to a menacingly gentle chuckle, you release your questioner and he slumps slightly in his place.

Your attendants remain silent, rigid and motionless throughout.

As your look down to the surface of the lectern between your hands clasped at its edges, you let out an inaudible sigh. "As if we, like The Almighty, had any such Grand Plan." You lean forward into a relaxed crouch, as if to invite your audience into the frivolous confidence of a child's secret. "No. Our plan," your eyes rekindle and narrow to the volume and brilliance of distant, viridian stars. "Is to bring down as many of those purchasable human hearts as we possibly can."
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No. 546032 ID: 5869f6

'Bring down'? What in the name of the nine circles of hell and the 666 layers of the abyss are you babbling about?
What I am saying, in short is. Explain!
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No. 546033 ID: 097017

"Now as for the complications you've mentioned. There always is, as in any wayward mortal's life, a slight spark of divinity that animates her or his frame. Because of that, priceless microscopic gem, our opponents will attempt any rescue condoned by their code to offer the little creature redemption."

You pause with significance.

"You know them. The immutable, secure radiance from whose likeness and company we have since descended out of favor."

"Messengers." your students murmur in unison.
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No. 546059 ID: 097017

(still in exposition mode, thank you for your patience. Also typo: written above should be "bring down with us.")

You stop your purpled rant and look about the forum; as much as you enjoy vainly indulging yourself in the position of power you're situated, the faceless, unnamed audience of fiends before you know little and are eager to learn... and you habitually punished the one individual who demonstrated initiative. It's been millennia and you still have to work on your approach.

You're certainly glad none of your partners were assigned to speak with you as you address the new recruits.

>>546032

Your rehearse in your mind the paths that lead all parties involved to this place and moment in time... the more recent branches of the paths, you remind yourself. You are here in your regularly scheduled introductory speech to your new disciples, to explain the premise of their new existence. They have arrived fresh from Hell's boot camp, like grapes plucked from the vinyard. Once human souls these spirits were lead into the den of sin by thier unbridled passions, and are now conguently molded and stripped of most of their individuality. These new cogs of the infernal machine have been delivered to your feet. It is your job to ensure they take after you;

You are to shape them in your image.

Before you begin anew, you sift through all the information and trade practices that fall into your specific line of work within the ranks of the Fallen. What will you do to further develop these, your children?

1- Drop your haughty pretense and get real with them.
2- Correct your mistake and encourage your recent victim to function more independently.
3- Begin tutoring them in the general operation of your trade.
3a- Prerequisite materials and tools of the trade.
3b- The rules of acquisition: lay down the law!
3c- Etiquette and procedures in interacting with our 'clients'.
3d- The nature of our prey. Teach your cubs to hunt!
3e- The general objective and execution of a deal.

0- some other course of action.

(Interactive mode engaged.)
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No. 546064 ID: a5188f

1+3b, I'm thinking something like this:
"Yes, enough of pretense! The time grows short, and now let's get on to business!
Here are the rules of what we do-"
Something like that.
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No. 546313 ID: 60fee2

>>546064
Seconding
>>
No. 546353 ID: 097017

>>546064
>>546313
[interaction mode paused, story mode engaged]

"You know, standing here I look at all of you and can't help but be reminded of La Rochefoucauld's observation: 'We are always bored by those whom we bore.' Since that is the case, I'll save the unpleasantries for the reflections in my trophies. Time grows shorter as it flies, and as this is a trade school of the basest caliber, all the theory you'll ever need to know is found in the field. If you would all stand?"

Your army of fork-tonged nobodies stand in unison, with the one exception of your battered bohemian; he's quicker on the uptake. It seems he's kept his eye on the ball, and perhaps your eye should be kept on him. he might make a good assistant, or bad business for your competition. If nothing else he'll be scheming behind your back as you once did to your superior, although you hope this fellow will last longer than your trainer did.

You resume your speech. "Yes, even as a potato in a dark cellar, now I can sense a low cunning about you that will serve well your stead." Your gaze lingers on young JackbeNimble as you paraphrase Samuel Butler.

"Gather yourselves in formation kids, we're going for a walk."


...[cont.]...
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No. 546357 ID: 097017
File 138341442384.jpg - (36.34KB , 518x500 , Skeleton-Dad.jpg )
546357

You step down the stage and walk up the aisle to stand within the crowd where your pets have collected themselves.

Your whim dictates the stadium lights to shine harshly as they are raised to full intensity. When they've reached their peak, the space in the room it self shudders and stills itself. You and your followers are clearly in the same building, but something about the ambiance beside the illumination is drastically different. As your student body frees themselves to look around, they notice that you and your outfit are not alone.

Every seat, stair, metal folding chair and floor space is occupied by a throng of screaming and shouting people. Tears pour from their eyes (and a bit of mucus from a few noses) as they scream and shout into the already agitated air. Photo flashes, balloons and confetti burst into the air in rapid succession as a well groomed man looks on from the stage. He has a predatory look and a triumphant smile on his face; his arms are uplifted as if he were reaching to pluck the sun from the sky.

"Tell me, children, what do you see?"

"Pandamonium" says one beside you.
"A feast of pride." says another near the door.
"A new form of torture." says the third that's turned to face you. You struggle to suppress a chortle on that last one, but it yields.

Surprisingly, you feel a tug on the back of your habit. As you turn you look you see a figure, once a young girl, childishly pointing at the man at the stage. "Sir, Is he the Devil?"

An old, rusty cord of twisted metal wire within you shivers as you consider your daughter's question. It seems you still have a soft spot for the wicked prats after all.
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No. 546404 ID: 097017

To avoid letting off any signs of immediate vulnerability you look for a suitable distraction. Despite being in the idea environment you have some trouble. "Number two." You say. The middle son who spoke makes his way from the back of the theater to your side.

"Elaborate."

"Well," he begins, "This must be a convention hall on election night. And," he points, "That man up there has just become PM, Chairman or President of something." You nod. "Quite correct, Thank you." You turn your back to the scene and face the group. "We are an assortment of lawyers, campaign managers, salesmen, pitchmen and hustlers. In order for any of these professionals to work their trade they need what?"

"A victim." You hear from above. You don't bother to look up to see Jack sitting on the parapet of the balcony. Yes, he's going to be an interesting prospect. "Also correct. We need a host, an audience. It takes two to tango, as they say, and we don't want a crumb of self respect on our marks by the time we're done with him. Before that, however, we need a MO: a polished approach. In my experience, I found the most effective teaching techniques were the most grueling and humiliating examples of trail and error." You open your arms to your section of the edifice's population.

"Who, then, would like to take a stab in the dark?"


[story mode suspended, interactive mode engaged.]

1- Jack Sprat
2- Numbah Wun
3- Mr. Deuce
4- The Funny Lady to your Left
5- Lil' Dimpled Slashthee Temples
6- Volunteer some other Hapless Cutout.

0- Press Zero for More Options
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