A Devil and Mr. Me
There was a girl I didn't know in my bed when I opened the door. This is the kind of thing that happens unfortunately infrequently, so I figured something was up. She looked maddeningly familiar, and was pretty cute, not just because she was wearing a Green Lantern shirt (and other clothes, yes) and flipping through one of my gaming books. She looked up. "Oh," she said, "You're back."
"Yes, I am," I said, dodging around the bed to empty my change into the change basket and the rest of my pockets into my Stuff Box. "So, what are you doing here?"
"Being bored," she said.
"Ah," I said. "So who are you, exactly, and why are you in my bed? Not that I'd necessarily complain, but I haven't been to any parties that involved drinking until I passed out and couldn't remember what was happening in, well, ever."
"Why do you think I'm so bored?" she asked.
She was still lying on the bed, posing in what was probably so long practiced to look unconscious that it actually was. "Ah," I said, and sat down in my scooty chair. "So is the regular guy sick, are you the competition, or am I just losing my mind?"
"Regular guy? Oh, the hippie?" she waved a hand lazily, "Meh. His kind don't like us. All anti-pleasures of the flesh, blah blah blah."
"I figured. Okay, so what kind of succubus are you, then? Like, if we make smooches, do I get negative levels? Suck my soul out into some kind of jar and take it back to trade for trinkets? Lillim from In Nomine, who're special and looking for favors to barter? Freaky kinky Japanese kind? Or the less evil kind that just show up and have sex with guys because... I don't really know why. Probably because Og the Cave-Dude couldn't get Ua the Cave-Chick to do what floated his boat, so he made something up?"
She sat up crosslegged. "You really are a hopeless nerd. You find a woman lying on your bed and your first suspicion is she's a supernatural temptress?"
"Am I wrong?" I asked, crossing my own legs on my chair.
"No, but that's not the point of the thing."
"Whatever you say," I said, "So are you going to offer me nights of unbridled passion in exchange for something or other?"
"No! What do I look like, a whore? Do I look like I'm in seductress clothes?"
I shrugged and titled my head. "Well, that Green Lantern shirt is pretty hot. Plus you're posing. And your smile went 'ting.' I heard it. And now you're arcing your back to show off your boobs."
She stopped arcing and deflated a little. "After a couple thousand years, mannerisms become habit. And you nerds are hopeless. How much plainer a shirt could I have?" she asked, hands raised.
"Honestly, I don't care. You can entertain yourself, if you're not here to try and tempt me with the pleasures of the flesh, I could be writing or studying or making witty on the internet."
"But I'm BORED," she said.
I spun my chair back around. "Okay, fine. How about this. You said you're not a whore, but isn't that kind of the whole shtick of a succubus, demonic ladies, or guys, whatever, who trade mortals really good sex for souls or promises? Isn't that the definition of a whore?"
She sat back and gave me a nasty glare over crossed arms. "It's not the same. Devils work differently than humans."
"How?"
"I'm not going to tell you, you called me a whore."
I sat back and considered this for a moment. She just glared at me. I shrugged and spun back toward the computer and turned it on. "I have better ways to waste time than this."
"I KNOW!" she said, "And that's why I'm so bored!"
"I'm sorry I'm not having enough sex for you to sate your demonic voyeuristic tendencies, but I really don't care."
"It's not even about sex," she said, "But how am I supposed to tempt you to keep you from accomplishing anything that could threaten infernal interests, when you don't do anything?"
Hang on a second. Did a probably imaginary supernatural creature just bitch me out for not having a life? Yeah, sounded that way. That's pathetic, but also funny. I'm not sure which it's more of. I ended up snickering, to keep up an exterior appearance of bored amusement. "Maybe you're just not very good at tempting," I said, "And trying to put the blame on me. Seriously, I haven't noticed any attempts at temptation. Of course, I don't really see sex in and of itself as some kind of evil temptation thing that's gonna damn me to a Hell I'm pretty sure doesn't exist, so maybe you just got a bad assignment."
She snorted. "Please. Dude, you barely seen temptation. Don't get so cocky about how you'd react."
"And yet, you're still sitting on the bed, in shabby clothes, and not even trying."
She sighed annoyedly, and I heard her stand up and step over. "I'm not here to seduce you," she said, "I could have sworn I said that. I'm bored. Because you're not making this interesting. How am I supposed to justify my budget if you don't?"
"Demons have budgets?"
"Devils," she corrected, "And no, but it's a metaphor."
She leaned on the back of the chair. "Would you stop that?" I asked, "It's annoying."
"No," she said, "Don't you know women are like cats?"
I kept several witty retorts back, because they didn't seem to have a receptive audience. "Okay, fine," I said, "A question. I've never met you before, so why do you look so familiar?"
"Because I look like the kind of woman you find hot."
"I find lots of women hot," I said, "Who all look different. And some I've never seen."
She chuckled. A sexy chuckle, of course. "Shapeshifter, duh. Well, that and your limited mortal perceptions."
"Of course, silly me. Or you're just a figment of my imagination, or a projected part of some of my personality so I can babble about things to a metaphor."
"Really, smart guy? If I'm from your head, why am I a chick?"
I grinned and spun around. "Mental eye candy, and 'cause I'd rather talk about sex with a woman. Some things guys just don't discuss with each other much."
She stood back and looked down at me. "We haven't even talked about sex. And well, if you're not going to offer a real challenge, maybe convincing you I'm real will be a little entertaining."
She bamfed away in a cloud of pink smoke, that smelled faintly of brimstone and perfume. Of course.
For Context, see:
Stories from the Rabbit Hole
Stories from the Rabbit Hole, Part 2
There's a Buddha on My Bed
A Discussion of Procrastination and Buddhism
Buddhablog
Haven't Seen Him in a While
The Illusion of Pain
Stuff that Binds
The Joy of Scrubdom
More About Failure
Book Reviews with a Buddha
Who's Afraid of a Little Enlightenment?
Special Guest Star Daily Drabble
Conversation
Sacredelicious
"Yes, I am," I said, dodging around the bed to empty my change into the change basket and the rest of my pockets into my Stuff Box. "So, what are you doing here?"
"Being bored," she said.
"Ah," I said. "So who are you, exactly, and why are you in my bed? Not that I'd necessarily complain, but I haven't been to any parties that involved drinking until I passed out and couldn't remember what was happening in, well, ever."
"Why do you think I'm so bored?" she asked.
She was still lying on the bed, posing in what was probably so long practiced to look unconscious that it actually was. "Ah," I said, and sat down in my scooty chair. "So is the regular guy sick, are you the competition, or am I just losing my mind?"
"Regular guy? Oh, the hippie?" she waved a hand lazily, "Meh. His kind don't like us. All anti-pleasures of the flesh, blah blah blah."
"I figured. Okay, so what kind of succubus are you, then? Like, if we make smooches, do I get negative levels? Suck my soul out into some kind of jar and take it back to trade for trinkets? Lillim from In Nomine, who're special and looking for favors to barter? Freaky kinky Japanese kind? Or the less evil kind that just show up and have sex with guys because... I don't really know why. Probably because Og the Cave-Dude couldn't get Ua the Cave-Chick to do what floated his boat, so he made something up?"
She sat up crosslegged. "You really are a hopeless nerd. You find a woman lying on your bed and your first suspicion is she's a supernatural temptress?"
"Am I wrong?" I asked, crossing my own legs on my chair.
"No, but that's not the point of the thing."
"Whatever you say," I said, "So are you going to offer me nights of unbridled passion in exchange for something or other?"
"No! What do I look like, a whore? Do I look like I'm in seductress clothes?"
I shrugged and titled my head. "Well, that Green Lantern shirt is pretty hot. Plus you're posing. And your smile went 'ting.' I heard it. And now you're arcing your back to show off your boobs."
She stopped arcing and deflated a little. "After a couple thousand years, mannerisms become habit. And you nerds are hopeless. How much plainer a shirt could I have?" she asked, hands raised.
"Honestly, I don't care. You can entertain yourself, if you're not here to try and tempt me with the pleasures of the flesh, I could be writing or studying or making witty on the internet."
"But I'm BORED," she said.
I spun my chair back around. "Okay, fine. How about this. You said you're not a whore, but isn't that kind of the whole shtick of a succubus, demonic ladies, or guys, whatever, who trade mortals really good sex for souls or promises? Isn't that the definition of a whore?"
She sat back and gave me a nasty glare over crossed arms. "It's not the same. Devils work differently than humans."
"How?"
"I'm not going to tell you, you called me a whore."
I sat back and considered this for a moment. She just glared at me. I shrugged and spun back toward the computer and turned it on. "I have better ways to waste time than this."
"I KNOW!" she said, "And that's why I'm so bored!"
"I'm sorry I'm not having enough sex for you to sate your demonic voyeuristic tendencies, but I really don't care."
"It's not even about sex," she said, "But how am I supposed to tempt you to keep you from accomplishing anything that could threaten infernal interests, when you don't do anything?"
Hang on a second. Did a probably imaginary supernatural creature just bitch me out for not having a life? Yeah, sounded that way. That's pathetic, but also funny. I'm not sure which it's more of. I ended up snickering, to keep up an exterior appearance of bored amusement. "Maybe you're just not very good at tempting," I said, "And trying to put the blame on me. Seriously, I haven't noticed any attempts at temptation. Of course, I don't really see sex in and of itself as some kind of evil temptation thing that's gonna damn me to a Hell I'm pretty sure doesn't exist, so maybe you just got a bad assignment."
She snorted. "Please. Dude, you barely seen temptation. Don't get so cocky about how you'd react."
"And yet, you're still sitting on the bed, in shabby clothes, and not even trying."
She sighed annoyedly, and I heard her stand up and step over. "I'm not here to seduce you," she said, "I could have sworn I said that. I'm bored. Because you're not making this interesting. How am I supposed to justify my budget if you don't?"
"Demons have budgets?"
"Devils," she corrected, "And no, but it's a metaphor."
She leaned on the back of the chair. "Would you stop that?" I asked, "It's annoying."
"No," she said, "Don't you know women are like cats?"
I kept several witty retorts back, because they didn't seem to have a receptive audience. "Okay, fine," I said, "A question. I've never met you before, so why do you look so familiar?"
"Because I look like the kind of woman you find hot."
"I find lots of women hot," I said, "Who all look different. And some I've never seen."
She chuckled. A sexy chuckle, of course. "Shapeshifter, duh. Well, that and your limited mortal perceptions."
"Of course, silly me. Or you're just a figment of my imagination, or a projected part of some of my personality so I can babble about things to a metaphor."
"Really, smart guy? If I'm from your head, why am I a chick?"
I grinned and spun around. "Mental eye candy, and 'cause I'd rather talk about sex with a woman. Some things guys just don't discuss with each other much."
She stood back and looked down at me. "We haven't even talked about sex. And well, if you're not going to offer a real challenge, maybe convincing you I'm real will be a little entertaining."
She bamfed away in a cloud of pink smoke, that smelled faintly of brimstone and perfume. Of course.
For Context, see:
Stories from the Rabbit Hole
Stories from the Rabbit Hole, Part 2
There's a Buddha on My Bed
A Discussion of Procrastination and Buddhism
Buddhablog
Haven't Seen Him in a While
The Illusion of Pain
Stuff that Binds
The Joy of Scrubdom
More About Failure
Book Reviews with a Buddha
Who's Afraid of a Little Enlightenment?
Special Guest Star Daily Drabble
Conversation
Sacredelicious