The Diabolists.
Nov. 8th, 2012 10:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matt_doyleHad another vivid narrative dream last night. I was a teenaged member of a three-man team of grifters, hustlers, and thieves living on the streets; each of us with faint magical gifts. Our mentor, and several other street people, were murdered -- more like butchered -- and we made the determination that we should get off the streets. Of course, we approached this like a con. The boldest of the three of us, a blonde, green-eyed girl with a slight gift to distract, confuse, or charm people she spoke to or touched, approached what she felt was our best bet -- a theater troupe that had just come into town, augmenting their act with magic; who were very effusive in both praise and charity toward gifted street kids. While she was insinuating herself into their good graces, I (the second-story man; an acrobat, tumbler, and catburglar with the ability to levitate small things or slightly change the weight or density of bigger things) made an accidental discovery -- this group was in fact a cabal of diabolists, bargaining for greater magical power by trading lives and souls to devils. They were in the middle of a recruitment drive, appearing kind and charitable by day; while killing underworld authority figures by night to make the streets less safe, pushing us right into their hands.
By the time I figured this out, my friend had already bought into the rhetoric. I and the last member of our gang -- a pickpocket with a minor gift for illusion, primarily the ability to make himself harder to notice -- managed to distract the diabolist benefactors long enough to have a frank conversation. While she was tempted to beguile me into joining, our enchantress was outraged at the murder of our mentor, so we made a new plan instead. She'd play their star pupil, but take on an alias to hide our association and keep her soul safe from bargains. I, playing the reluctant, would get myself captured in the process of an impressive robbery of diabolist assets, then let myself be paroled into recruitment (likewise using an alias). Our third member would stay unseen, conducting surveillance and carrying messages for us -- and we'd bring the group down from the inside. I wanted security; she wanted revenge -- and there was an uncomfortably devilish glint in her eye already when she talked about getting it.
If she'd already sold her soul, it was possible she was conning me. I went through with the burglary, unsure of whether I wanted to carry out the con or actually get away with something of value, maybe evidence or magical assets I could turn against them on my own. Still unsure, trying to escape -- but not get away so thoroughly that they would lose my trail and give up on me before I had made my decision -- my enchantress friend subtly sabotaged my getaway.
As I was caught, I wondered -- was she doing it to preserve the plan? Or because she wasn't really on my side? I sweet-talked my way into a paroled recruitment, still wondering, and then woke up.
By the time I figured this out, my friend had already bought into the rhetoric. I and the last member of our gang -- a pickpocket with a minor gift for illusion, primarily the ability to make himself harder to notice -- managed to distract the diabolist benefactors long enough to have a frank conversation. While she was tempted to beguile me into joining, our enchantress was outraged at the murder of our mentor, so we made a new plan instead. She'd play their star pupil, but take on an alias to hide our association and keep her soul safe from bargains. I, playing the reluctant, would get myself captured in the process of an impressive robbery of diabolist assets, then let myself be paroled into recruitment (likewise using an alias). Our third member would stay unseen, conducting surveillance and carrying messages for us -- and we'd bring the group down from the inside. I wanted security; she wanted revenge -- and there was an uncomfortably devilish glint in her eye already when she talked about getting it.
If she'd already sold her soul, it was possible she was conning me. I went through with the burglary, unsure of whether I wanted to carry out the con or actually get away with something of value, maybe evidence or magical assets I could turn against them on my own. Still unsure, trying to escape -- but not get away so thoroughly that they would lose my trail and give up on me before I had made my decision -- my enchantress friend subtly sabotaged my getaway.
As I was caught, I wondered -- was she doing it to preserve the plan? Or because she wasn't really on my side? I sweet-talked my way into a paroled recruitment, still wondering, and then woke up.
no subject
Date: 2012-11-08 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-08 05:46 pm (UTC)