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14. On the Merit of Self-Control
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"Hey, Anders."
"Yes, Hawke?"
"Why don't you turn inside out?"
"I . . .what? Is that a request? Or do I even want to kn-"
"You let that thing doss down in your head, right?"
"Justice is a Fade Spirit, but yes. What's that got-"
"By my count we've come across seventeen assorted blood mages and/or abominations in the last four days-"
"Hawke, don't go there-"
"-and the instant they get their panties in a bunch so that their personal demons go all 'Bloowahaha!' they invariably turn inside out. And get taller, for some reason. Who knew skin keeps you short?"
"Justice is not a de-"
"Well, except for that one guy, but Merrill's utterly awesome Walking Bomb spell pretty much took care of it for him."
"Speaking of, if you want to talk blood ma-"
"So, yeah, he was a little less self-contained and a lot more like wet landscaping. But considering how the other sixteen demons that got off the mark all went 'flurp-boom,' what makes yours different?"
"He's a spirit. It's not the sa-"
"All he does is glow blue and sparkle. Who takes a sparkly monster seriously, anyway?"
"It's not the same thing . . . it's not . . . argh . . . noo . . . I AM NOT A MON-"
Thwap!
Blink.
"You hit me."
"Yes."
"You hit me with a rolled up pamphlet."
"Yes. Yes, I did."
"On the nose . . ."
"If you're going to have a demon - spirit - spemon, whatever, you have to learn not to go blue in the house."
"I AM NO DEM-"
Thwap!
"THIS IS AN INJUS-"
Thwap!
"I-"
Thwap!
"Don't make me squirt you with water. Because I will."
Pause.
". . . um . . . okay?"
"Good. So, returning to the subject at hand- Demon!"
Silence.
"Atta boy. Here, have a cookie."
"Oo, shortbread!"
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Many thanks to the ridiculously awesome Shakespira for coining the term "spemon" and thereby egging me on.