Conversation Space III.

[powersthatbe]

A poured concrete floor and cinder block walls are lit by a single bare light bulb hanging overhead. Shackles dangle from brackets on every side, and the chair in the center of the room is clearly an electric chair. A tall glass sits on top of a stool made of what looks like pure gold - but the liquid inside it is almost definitely blood.

Comments

[powersthatare]

I OFFER THE POWER TO REMAKE YOUR WORLD ACCORDING TO YOUR WHIM.

I THREATEN TO REMAKE IT IN MINE.

[prolificarse]

"If you think there's anything to remake, you've clearly never been to a Satinalia festival," Dorian replies, drawing glibness around himself like armor, though the leaden quality of it betrays his horror.

"And if I take the power you offer to reshape the world, it will amount to much the same thing. The gifts of demons never come without a cost."

[powersthatare]

THE COST WILL BE WHAT YOU PAY ON JAUNTS.

AND I AM NOT A DEMON.

[prolificarse]

"You're no better than one. I won't doom other worlds for you. My integrity's worth a bit more than a few threats and empty offers."

[powersthatare]

DEFIANCE. THAT IS GOOD, TOO.

[prolificarse]

He swallows hard, clinging to the anger that lies overtop his dread, like a thin skin of new ice over open water.

"We'll see how well you like it when all of this is done."

[powersthatare]

WE WILL. AS WILL YOU. IT IS... INEVITABLE.