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Stoned evilish god lands in a mortal body in Harry Dresden’s Chicago
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It was a dark and stormy night. Well, it was always dark, and tumultuous, and nighttime, here. Here, the void, that existed before anything, and which continued to exist, around and through everything that came after it. The void from which each creator god had drawn forth their reality. The void into which each punitive god had banished their most hated opponents.  The void, which spawned strange nightmares and illusions as naturally as breathing, threatening the Inner Realms.  The void, which drives lesser minds mad and offers greater minds the privilege of infinite self reflection.

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Within the void, Melkor snaps off one of his middle toes and turns it into a doobie.

”Mannnn… have you ever thought about how ‘privilege’ is like… a euphemism for getting dicked over?”

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Melkor gets some real good DMT going in his system and engages in some extreme subjective time acceleration.

“It’s like… that time Ender light-sped his way through Narnia… and the Statue of Liberty ended up being on the Planet of the Apes for some reason,” he says over the course of the next 100 years.

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The void looks exactly the same.

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He chills. He vibes. He takes up crochet. He contemplates swearing vengeance against those who wronged him and landed him here in the first place, but then he’s like, mehhhhh. 

“This almost makes me feel bad for those dudes I threw in an infinitely large bucket of whale piss. It’s like… they probably never even got to hang out.”

Melkor gestures at a speck in the distance… what might be another void-resident, or might be the world’s teensiest, twinkliest hallucination.

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The two voidpoints come together instantly, like an ant walking across a fold of cloth. The speck is a silver coin, blackened with age in its crevices. It twinkles at him invitingly

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High Melkor arches an eyebrow. He’s torn between hanging out with the first non-him physical object he’s encountered in gigaseconds vs finishing his full-size crocheted tapestry map/replica of Middle Earth.

He sucks in air through his black teeth and let’s the yarn fray back into his own loose eyelash hairs.

”Yo, sup, hail and well met, inanimate object — are you horny on main or what?”

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The coin slowly spins, and he can see the image of a serious looking woman, glowing softly. A bare whisper of consciousness drifts over to him. It smells of unexpected fondness, betrayal, and smoldering ambition.

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Melkor feels a rare spark of empathy: he too smells, though perhaps less of ambition and more of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.

”What’s your name, Chuck E Cheese token?”

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“I am Meciel, Renegade and Temptress.” He tastes the words, as they roll around the doobie in his mouth.  “And I can help you, oh great one.”

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He licks her face.

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She winks. 

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“Hmm!” Melkor hums, impressedly. “fwiw, ime most entities get that freeze response when an exiled supernatural being rips up the script.”

”You’ve got 60 seconds added to your time trial clock before I turn you into one of those stretched penny souvenirs. Tempt me, Messiér.”

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She gestures behind her, where a thin trail of spirit leads… somewhere. It seems she retains a tether to her home reality, but lacks the power and skill to follow it from this end. “Come on in, the water’s warm.” Her words taste of freshly pressed grapes and honey.

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Shit man, a tether? Melkor would have blown an army of clowns to have a tether.

”Alright Hotpants, you hooked me. And not in like a way that’s a crochet reference. But first, we got some dancing to do.”

He stretches the sweat from his fingertips into taffy. He wraps the candy around the coin and flips it, over and over and over. Through the connection, an acidic residue enters both their minds and (along with the sudden pumping EDM music) tips them over into ecstasy.

Melkor’s face is basically all dilated pupil at this point. “You’re, like, the world to me right now Mess.” 

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The void pulses around them and he feels her whole backstory rush through him, not in episodics but as a series of vibes and metaphors. It feels disturbingly good.  She’s staring at him with wide eyes as if he’s a god.

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“Lucky for you babe: I am a god.”

And Melkor pulls on the tether (shave-and-a-haircut:two-bits!), wraps a spirit-arm around spirit-Meciel, and plunges his deific will into the virgin shores of whatever freaking world this is that’s about to get Melkor’d.

“Bye bye void, bye bye!”

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The void vanishes.

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There is an instant of blinding sunlight before a lid slams thunderously into Melkor’s head, and he is once again in darkness.  He has been knocked into a pile of something squishy, soft, and… he sniffs. Stinky as hell. He feels around at a couple of heavy metal walls before pushing up on the lid above him, which opens with a clang. He is standing in a dumpster in the corner of a parking lot. A very large building behind him is casting the dumpster in shadow. In his hand lies the physical manifestation of the coin from the Void.

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“Haaaaaaa what a goddamn comedown! Disgussssssttiiiiiing.” He picks up a rotting salami between two fingers. He drops the salami and stares at his fingers really hard.

Wow.

Without looking away from his fingers, he stirs the crock of shit he’s in with one leg.  ”Yoooooo Ms. Mess, you in there? Need any profoundly nauseating CPR?”

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“My host,” a melodic voice speaks in his head. “I am here.” A beautiful woman with dark hair and sparkling silver eyes abruptly appears, perched gracefully on the edge of the dumpster. She looks around. “Welcome to Chicago. Care for a refreshment?” She opens her hand, which holds several small, colorful, translucent objects that appear to be in the shape of cartooning bears.

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Melkor snakes his tongue around her hand and slurps up the gummy bears, Lickitung style.

They’re, like, electrifyingly good.

”Damnmnmng… this meatsuit has some Eru-flippin’ taste buds. Meciel, put crab tacos on my bucket list.”

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Crab tacos added to your bucket list,” she says in an awkward flat intonation. She watches him chew and swallow, and for Melkor, the world suddenly goes very chill. He realizes that standing in a dumpster is actually a pretty pleasant experience.

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Mmmmmmm.

”You know…”

 

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“I like this ‘Chicago.’”

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“I think I’m gonna keep it.”

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