Bridget Carys Llywelyn (symphony_muted) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2012-01-28 22:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | bridget llywelyn, satan |
WHO: Satan and Bridget
WHAT: Creeping!
WHEN: Friday afternoon
WHERE: Outside a baby-store!
WARNINGS: Well it's Satan, but not much probably!
The secret of her pregnancy had been well-kept, and Bridget hadn't minded not telling everyone she knew. She wanted her baby to be safe. She couldn't however, help but duck into whatever baby shops she passed while on her way to job interviews, to look at many many things she couldn't yet afford.
It was a little like torture, but pastel-coloured. Bridget was excited and she wanted to buy booties and adorable toys and clothes, but there just wasn't the money to go insane. So she looked and pined, stroking the tiny socks and hugging onesies to her before putting them back. She chased a many hawk-eyed sales assistant away with 'I'm looking for later' so they didn't follow her around until she was so uncomfortable she left.
Eventually, however, she would leave saddened by the things she couldn't afford to get her unborn child. As she stepped foot out of the shop, someone else fell in step beside her.
Satan actually wasn't planning on doing anything too traumatic to Saint David's new bride. He had started occasionally following her around mostly out of boredom, although at first he'd hoped she was some kind of succubus and no one had realized it. But no such luck. She was boringly mortal.
But she was popping in and out of baby stores, and doing it regularly enough that it couldn't just be a whim or some disgusting maternal longing. After the third day of watching Bridget, Satan really just had to say something.
"Cute, isn't it?" she said, falling into step next to the mortal. "All the tiny little clothes."
Bridget glanced sideways at the woman and she smiled warily. As much as she tried to pretend she was totally okay with this new world she was involved in, she was also now entirely sure every single person she happened upon was some kind of demon or dinosaur or the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man in human form.
"Yeah," she agreed, because it was polite. "Cute." Bridget licked her lips and tried turning a corner to see if that would make the woman leave her alone.
"They're cute because they're miniature, I think," Satan mused, easily keeping pace with Bridget and looking her over. She didn't look pregnant, but she and the saint hadn't been shacking up for very long. "I think that's really the case with babies in general. If they came out looking like tiny people, we'd probably dropkick them the first time they threw up."
Bridget made a face at the idea of dropkicking a baby, and she remembered what George had said to her. A blonde woman. Satan could appear as a blonde woman. And while women with blonde hair were not unheard of in New York City, being one herself, this woman was ringing some kind of alarm bells.
Maybe she was just being paranoid.
"I don't...think I would dropkick anyone," Bridget said quietly.
"Don't underestimate yourself!" Satan said cheerfully, clapping a hand on Bridget's shoulder. "I'm sure you could work yourself up to an atrocity if you were really tempted. So! Baby clothes! Is it because you're pregnant?"
With every word, Bridget became more and more sure this woman was Satan. Why else would she still be talking to her.
With the question asked, Bridget had no idea what to say. Should she admit it, or lie? If she lied, would this woman kill her? If she told the truth would this woman kill her?
Her body stiffened and she stammered, "I- I- I just...like...m."
Satan raised an eyebrow. She'd only really caught the vowel sounds in that sentence. Still, at least this human was showing a proper amount of terror.
"Oh, stop snivelling, you look like a terrified little rabbit," Satan said. "Do you know who I am?"
Bridget swallowed roughly, unsure how to handle this. She wanted to pull her mobile out of her pocket and call George or Patrick, but she just kept walking.
"I...I think I do."
"Then don't be so scared," Satan said. "It's not like you've done anything bad. Aside from corrupting a saint. Oh, well, I guess that is kind of a big deal."
"I didn't corrupt him," Bridget shot back before remembering that this woman was going to say whatever she could to get a rise and reacting wouldn't help.
She cleared her throat and held her head a little taller. "What do you want?"
"You didn't? Because he used to take those vows of chastity pretty seriously, before you came along," Satan said, making a show of looking at her nails. "Certainly more than some of his brothers anyway. You should be proud of yourself! Centuries of temptations, and you were the one he finally gave into."
Bridget sighed and her fear began to diminish as it was replaced by anger. "I didn't tempt him. We fell in love. He hadn't ever been in love before."
"If that's what helps you sleep at night," Satan said glibly. "So, how're you liking finding out the truth about everything? I hope you weren't an atheist before, that's always a little awkward."
Bridget wondered if the only way to make Satan go away was to keep talking. Or was that dangerous? How in the world was she supposed to know what to do? Deep down, she was so grateful she had taken it upon herself to find out what the hell was going on.
"I was a lapsed Catholic, but I believe now," she replied. "Not that it's any of your business."
"Aw, Catholics," Satan said. "The best kind of guilt. But you know, good for you. At least you aren't living in sin with him." Satan tsked, but then smiled at Bridget. "Anyway, think of this as a friendly hello from the forces of Hell. It's not all shiny saints and chocolate-loving angels in this city. And we're watching."
"Watching what?" she asked before she could think otherwise. What could this thing possibly want from her? She wasn't special and she wasn't a saint or an angel. It made no sense.
"We like to watch," Satan said, deliberately giving a non-answer. She tilted her head. "You know, I hope for your sake that you aren't pregnant. I remember when I was pregnant. It was Hell."
"Well it would be, wouldn't it?" she shot back, eternal sass taking over. "And I don't think for a moment you're the only one watching."
"Hey, I'm just trying to give you friendly advice," Satan said, holding up her hands. "In this pantheon, pregnancy tends to be either a very good thing or a very bad thing, and my son has an interesting tendency to show up in the strangest places."
She smiled, and showed more teeth than a person should probably have.
That smile unnerved her and Bridget finally pulled her mobile out of her pocket. "Right. Warning taken. Now I think you should leave or I'm going to call Saint Patrick."
Satan scowled. "The fact that he can occasionally banish me doesn't mean he's some kind of Satan-repellant. I'd just like everyone to know that."
"I'll be sure to put it in the newsletter," she growled back. "I am dialling his number now."
Satan laughed. "Well, aren't you brave? Run home to your little saint, Bridget. See you later."
She vanished, leaving behind only the faint scent of fire.
The moment Satan vanished, Bridget felt her knees go weak. She sank to the sidewalk and sat there a moment, breathing heavily. A few people offered her a hand up but she ignored them.
For a moment, she needed to sit and breathe.