Royalties

Feb 16, 2008 17:06

The royalty payments killed us ( Read more... )

demon, spell, magic

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jeff2001 February 17 2008, 16:01:01 UTC
They take a couple of minutes, and you don't even notice it. But when you come to yourself again the angle of the sun has changed in the sky, and there is a cramp in your right shoulder, and there is some sort of brown gunk under your fingernails. Small price to pay, right? It smells kind of like cinnamon. You just go into the shower and wash thoroughly, and try not to think about it.

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skonen_blades February 17 2008, 19:38:06 UTC
(Yeah, exactly! That was the one thing I didn't know how to slip in there without it becoming a story in itself. Perfection, jeff. Cinnamon! I love it.)

You are ridden.

A shutter clicks and now it's night. Your left shoe is missing. So is the pinky toe off of that foot. The nub is healed over and it looks like it's been missing for years. You're exhausted. You smell like you just walked through a house fire. Your lungs burn.

You're in an alley. Some person dressed in newspapers and cold sores is huddled behind a dumpster. She's staring wide-eyed in terror at you. You guess that maybe you've just appeared in the alley right in front of her eyes.

A quick shoulder-stretch and it's out into the street to find out where you are. Hopefully not a different city. You'll stumble for a few months because of the missing toe.

Small price to pay, you think to yourself. Small price to pay. It's a mantra for these times.

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