Based on a request by onnastik on Tumblr: “Would you write some Host being terrifying, please? There’s so little of it and I crave it…”
Okay, I’m just gonna try a little something here. I haven’t really done much of the Host, so this is pretty much a shot in the dark for me. I don’t know if it qualifies as terrifying, really, as it’s more of… well, trying to get into the Host’s head, and seeing what he “sees”. At any rate, I hope you’ll like it.
(And yes, my boy Dark just had to put His two cents in. Even when I’m not actively trying to write Him, He still likes to pop up.)
The Host is seated before his (currently off) microphone, listening to the static “snow” from the monitors nearby. His head is filled with the noise of the movement downstairs that the static only partially blocks out.
Though his eyes are gone, his consciousness can stretch farther than the five senses would allow. The soft drone of Dark’s aura, the electrical spark of Google’s power core, even the strange, over cheerful music that Wilford hums… he can not only hear it, but feel it.
He allows the paranormal perceptions to buzz around him like bees, using the static to anchor him to the linear world, to keep him from getting lost on that plane of the mind.
There he can see the part of Dark that’s not visible in a world limited to three dimensions. It’s not Dark’s True Form he sees, exactly… more like a piece of His demonic power.
And Dark knows he’s watching, and the Host senses the demon puffing up with the pride of His station by divine right… and the familiar rage underneath it. Nonetheless, He is quite cordial. Curious tonight, are we, Host?
The Host was merely stretching himself a little, and was drawn in by Your… singular presence.
Indeed. Is there something in particular that interests you?
The Host receives a sudden flash of imagery… the sensation of something spinning out of control. The Host wishes to warn the Hellgod that there is a traitor among His retinue of dark entities He has amassed thus far.
Well, I wouldn’t be much of a leader if I did not suspect the possibility of betrayal. The Host can feel the demon lord’s conscious mind rippling like the muscles of some great beast. Do you have any idea who this traitor might be?
The Host does not know them by face, but Dark should beware the child with innocent eyes.
The Host now has the distinct impression that Dark is seriously contemplating his enigmatic advice. Is there not anything you can sense more clearly?
The Host regrets that this is not the case. Psychic visions come and go as they please, and do not typically leave dates, times or social security numbers.
Too true. The Hellgod’s consciousness seems to rumble with amusement. Now, in a fair exchange for this information you have furnished Me with, is there perhaps something I can do for you?
The Host would leave aside a specific request for now, with the hopes that he can request payment later.
Understandable. Though I generally am loathe to owe anyone favours… I shall make an exception for you. This time.
You are quite generous, Dark.
You caught Me in a good mood. Don’t make a habit of it.
The Host now senses a finality in Dark’s mental tone, that the conversation is decidedly over and the Host has been dismissed. He politely recedes from the demon lord’s presence, back into his own body, and he can’t resist the small smile that tugs at his lips.
Dark owes him a favour now. That could be very useful.