WM 50 - prompt 8
RP Prompt: Just for fun, write your muse making a deal with the Devil. What kind of deal would they make? What do they gain and what do they lose in the bargain? Can they ultimately get out of it by outwitting the Lord of the Underworld? Let your imagination run wild!
Note: Interpreting the phrase a bit loosely.
The truth of the matter was the entire thing was fucking embarrassing. Sariel could kill a man with a toothpick if she tried hard enough, but she couldn't deal with animals. For whatever reason they freaked out around her and she had little to no patience with the damned things and usually ended up teleporting to her destination or walking. There was no harm with that.
Except this stupid assignment prevented her from doing either. Sure Metatron had said. I can pull some strings and you can kill things while we try to establish good ties with the Gods of Agran. Actually, considering how war-like their society is it'd probably look good on us. Fat lot of good that was. She had very quickly learned that despite a high rank from the get go and an excellent ability to kill things, there were far too many skills in the Agran military's department that she lacked and if she didn't fix it immediately, she was going to get booted out and therefore utterly fuck her real assignment up. An angry Metatron was unwise.
And goddamnit, Medrow. Sariel might have given the woman a begrudging amount of respect for being a decent commander, but the personality beneath made Sariel's skin crawl. However, dealing with horses happened to be Sariel's biggest and most obvious fault (practically clinging to one as she rode had been a very, very bad day indeed) and Andromeda looked like she was Sariel's only line of help. Which explained why Sariel had bought the eldest mead in the tavern and offered it to Andromeda.
Note: Interpreting the phrase a bit loosely.
The truth of the matter was the entire thing was fucking embarrassing. Sariel could kill a man with a toothpick if she tried hard enough, but she couldn't deal with animals. For whatever reason they freaked out around her and she had little to no patience with the damned things and usually ended up teleporting to her destination or walking. There was no harm with that.
Except this stupid assignment prevented her from doing either. Sure Metatron had said. I can pull some strings and you can kill things while we try to establish good ties with the Gods of Agran. Actually, considering how war-like their society is it'd probably look good on us. Fat lot of good that was. She had very quickly learned that despite a high rank from the get go and an excellent ability to kill things, there were far too many skills in the Agran military's department that she lacked and if she didn't fix it immediately, she was going to get booted out and therefore utterly fuck her real assignment up. An angry Metatron was unwise.
And goddamnit, Medrow. Sariel might have given the woman a begrudging amount of respect for being a decent commander, but the personality beneath made Sariel's skin crawl. However, dealing with horses happened to be Sariel's biggest and most obvious fault (practically clinging to one as she rode had been a very, very bad day indeed) and Andromeda looked like she was Sariel's only line of help. Which explained why Sariel had bought the eldest mead in the tavern and offered it to Andromeda.