[It's a thing of beauty, really, when a successful summon is completed — not just in a figurative sense, but in a simple aesthetic one as well: the circle comes alight with fire and glow, the lines flaring red then white as energy begins to course and — well, and the magic happens.
(Somewhere in the deepest pits of the abyss, a ginger devil felt a strange and incessant tugging in the vicinity of his chest; responsibly, he took the initiative to go to the time clock, punch out his card, and alert his immediate superior to this new and unanticipated development: "Sorry, guys, I gotta bail, looks like I'm being demon-summoned.")
When Neku's eyes finally clear from the near-blinding light of the magic he's just invoked, he'll find indeed that there is a ginger standing in the midst of that circle, arms folded across his chest and one hip cocked out in a lazy stance; he's blinking himself, like he's unused to seeing the light of day, and his first order of business is to survey the attic with a slow sweep of his head in the universal unspoken sign for, "Can you believe this dump?"
A moment later, his very blue eyes locked onto the boy standing outside the circle, noting in particular the gash on his palm.]
And who the fuck are you?
[...That was supposed to be "Are you my master?", probably.]
no subject
(Somewhere in the deepest pits of the abyss, a ginger devil felt a strange and incessant tugging in the vicinity of his chest; responsibly, he took the initiative to go to the time clock, punch out his card, and alert his immediate superior to this new and unanticipated development: "Sorry, guys, I gotta bail, looks like I'm being demon-summoned.")
When Neku's eyes finally clear from the near-blinding light of the magic he's just invoked, he'll find indeed that there is a ginger standing in the midst of that circle, arms folded across his chest and one hip cocked out in a lazy stance; he's blinking himself, like he's unused to seeing the light of day, and his first order of business is to survey the attic with a slow sweep of his head in the universal unspoken sign for, "Can you believe this dump?"
A moment later, his very blue eyes locked onto the boy standing outside the circle, noting in particular the gash on his palm.]
And who the fuck are you?
[...That was supposed to be "Are you my master?", probably.]