so what was this about summoning again
He's almost forgotten what it feels like to be actually summoned. It catches him off-guard somewhat; when he bursts through, the puff of swirling smoke he becomes upon entry is more startled than actually menacing.
Though he's never actually specialised in menacing. There was that.
"So. What do you require of me, mortal? Speak." He materialises a vaguely animalistic form, wings and teeth and claws sprouting out of a semi-solid mass. It may be unsettling. He intends it to be the case.
Though he's never actually specialised in menacing. There was that.
"So. What do you require of me, mortal? Speak." He materialises a vaguely animalistic form, wings and teeth and claws sprouting out of a semi-solid mass. It may be unsettling. He intends it to be the case.

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When everything clears, the summoning circle is completely eradicated. Nothing is out of place except the fact that where there were symbols and sigils, there's now plain dirt.
Mostly because the entire circle seems to have ended up engraved haphazardly in rings upon the knife, and if the pain on his arm was anything to go by, there's probably a couple of stray sigils crawling into place somewhere up his arm.
"I'm used to actual weaponry, and thus a little more room, but this serves adequately. You've got a little bit of it on you - couldn't help that."
His voice rings inside James' head, like a very small bell. James will also probably notice that with each syllable, the knife resonates slightly, enough to feel.
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He rolls up his sleeves and stares at his arm. The symbols, he immediately assesses, are badass. They are also going to get him in so much trouble. One step at a time. Speaking of which, he'll pick up the paring knife, stick it in a pocket, and start heading back into his house.
no subject
The symbols wriggle in an almost sheepish kind of way, separated from their brethren. They start moving towards concealment, and thankfully there's no pain there.
"Now what are you in such a hurry for?"