(Untitled)

[jakabokbotch]

A very ancient looking book with a black cover and a gold patterning that may look like a face on it (should someone close the book to inspect it) lies open on a table in the main room of the mansion. Where it came from or how it got there is a mystery. But there it is. And in bold letters it states very clearly on the open page:

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Comments

[susan_pevensie]

If he has not been burned already, Susan will look at the open page in curiosity. "Whyever would someone want to do that?" She murmers, mostly to herself. She can't understand why anyone would want to destroy a book. (And overly compassionate as she is, she may well obey the instructions should he speak to her).

[jakabokbotch]

He is very much still trapped within the book. Words appear when she approaches.

For compassion? I am trapped in here and I am tired of being here. It would be an end to the pain if you were just to burn the book.

Please.

[susan_pevensie]

Which causes her to startle in surprise, "Oh! Trapped? How awful... how on earth did it happen?" She picks up the book gently, and moves nearer to the fire in the hearth.

[jakabokbotch]

It was a foolish mistake. I overheard something I was not supposed to and I was condemned to this.

Please just cast me into the fire so my miserable existence can be ended.

[susan_pevensie]

"Are you sure? There is no other way to free you?" She bites her lip in consternation, it's a book, yes, but it can think, which makes this more like killing than mere destruction of property, and she's never killed anything before, she's reluctant to act unless there is no alternative.

[jakabokbotch]

What other way could there be? Do you know of one? You do have the face of an angel...

[susan_pevensie]

"I'm afraid I don't know of one." She looks mournful, "So if you are sure..." And as long as he has no protestations, she will lower the book into the flames, and hold vigil while it burns.

[jakabokbotch]

If a book could seem happy then it would be now.

Soon the book is reduced to ash and the printed words seem to fly out of the fire and gather in the air, forming into a human-like shape. Eventually a hideous sight stands before her. Covered in dark red and yellow scales, three claws on each foot and a pair of tails swaying behind him, Jakabok straightens up. His face and all down his front are very badly burned.

Even so, he doesn't appear to be in pain and he kneels down. "Thank you. You truly are compassionate... if perhaps somewhat naive," he looks up again at her.

[susan_pevensie]

"Oh..." She tries her hardest not to look scared at the sight of him (she's never seen anything quite like him before), but she does retreat a couple of steps.
"You're... welcome." If she didn't think it would be quite so rude to ask him what exactly he was, she would. She feels the prickling of doubt at the 'naive' comment, but decides that it's too late to do anything about it now.

[jakabokbotch]

He seems to read her mind. "I am one of the Demonation. A demon, if you will. Do I scare you?"

His manner isn't threatening right now. He merely sounds curious.

[susan_pevensie]

"A.. a little, to be honest," hoping that he doesn't take offence, "Are you a Demon of Christendom?" She has met some from different worlds, and is hoping a little that he's one of them.

[jakabokbotch]

"I was born in Hell, if that is what you mean."

[susan_pevensie]

"Oh dear." She looks rather fretful. "Please... are you going to hurt anyone?"

[jakabokbotch]

"You, my savior, are you asking me not to?"

[susan_pevensie]

She draws herself up and looks a little less of a child, "I do ask that of you." She doesn't know how far honour among Demons goes, but she's willing to give it a try.

[jakabokbotch]

"Then I will try not to. I can't speak for those that deserve it, however."