Writing Prompt And what showed up in the summoning circle was....

HURGMCGURG

That Guy
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Makes me think of a great scene from the book Golem's Eye, Chapter 33. Let me recite the exact scene. Ahem.

It was the biggest joint summoning that I'd been involved in since the great days of Prague. Forty djinn materializing more or less at once, in a vast chamber built for that purpose in the bowels of Whitehall. As with all such things, it was a messy business, despite the best efforts of the magicians. They were all lined up in tidy rows of identical pentacles, wearing the same dark suits and speaking their incantations quietly, while the officiating clerks scribbled their names down at tables to the sides. We djinn, of course, were less concerned with regimental decorum: we arrived in forty very different guises, trumpeting our individuality with horns, tails, iridescent flanges, spikes, and tentacles; with colors ranging from obsidian black to delicate dandelion-yellow; with a menagerie full of hollerings and chitter; with a magnificent range of sulfurous guffs and stenches. Out of sheer boredom, I had reverted to one of my old favorites, a winged serpent with silver feathers arching from behind my head. To my right was a kind of bird thing on silt legs, to my left an eerie miasma of blue-green smoke. Beyond him was a slavering griffin, and beyond him - more disconcerting than menacing, this one - was a stumpy and immobile footstool. We all faced our masters, waiting for our charges.

The boy hardly paid any attention to me; he was too busy writing down some notes.

"Ahem." The serpent of silver plumes gave a polite cough. "A-hem." Still no response. How impolite was this? You call someone up, then take them for granted. I coughed a little louder. "A-thaniel."

That got a response. His head jerked up, then swiveled from side to side. "Shut up," he hissed. "Anyone could have heard that."

"What is all this?" I said. "I thought we had a private thing going. Now every man and his imp are joining in."

"It's top priority. We've got an insane demon on the loose. We need it destroyed."

"It won't be the only mad thing about if you let this lot go." I flicked my tongue in a lefterly direction. "Check out that one at the end. He's taken the form of a footstool. Weird... but somehow I like his style."

"That is a footstool. No one's using that pentacle."
 

FireflyFanatic

Rawr. Trans rights.
Joined
Jul 11, 2019
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Makes me think of a great scene from the book Golem's Eye, Chapter 33. Let me recite the exact scene. Ahem.

It was the biggest joint summoning that I'd been involved in since the great days of Prague. Forty djinn materializing more or less at once, in a vast chamber built for that purpose in the bowels of Whitehall. As with all such things, it was a messy business, despite the best efforts of the magicians. They were all lined up in tidy rows of identical pentacles, wearing the same dark suits and speaking their incantations quietly, while the officiating clerks scribbled their names down at tables to the sides. We djinn, of course, were less concerned with regimental decorum: we arrived in forty very different guises, trumpeting our individuality with horns, tails, iridescent flanges, spikes, and tentacles; with colors ranging from obsidian black to delicate dandelion-yellow; with a menagerie full of hollerings and chitter; with a magnificent range of sulfurous guffs and stenches. Out of sheer boredom, I had reverted to one of my old favorites, a winged serpent with silver feathers arching from behind my head. To my right was a kind of bird thing on silt legs, to my left an eerie miasma of blue-green smoke. Beyond him was a slavering griffin, and beyond him - more disconcerting than menacing, this one - was a stumpy and immobile footstool. We all faced our masters, waiting for our charges.

The boy hardly paid any attention to me; he was too busy writing down some notes.

"Ahem." The serpent of silver plumes gave a polite cough. "A-hem." Still no response. How impolite was this? You call someone up, then take them for granted. I coughed a little louder. "A-thaniel."

That got a response. His head jerked up, then swiveled from side to side. "Shut up," he hissed. "Anyone could have heard that."

"What is all this?" I said. "I thought we had a private thing going. Now every man and his imp are joining in."

"It's top priority. We've got an insane demon on the loose. We need it destroyed."

"It won't be the only mad thing about if you let this lot go." I flicked my tongue in a lefterly direction. "Check out that one at the end. He's taken the form of a footstool. Weird... but somehow I like his style."

"That is a footstool. No one's using that pentacle."
Oh, from the Bartimaeus Trilogy?
 

Sabruness

Cultured Yuri Connoisseur
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and what showed up in the summoning circle was....

an apathetic, nilihistic tentacle monster
 
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