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Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #MagicalPolitics

“You ever feel like someone's controlling you?”
Kermit the Frog* #quote


              CJ could be coming over this weekend, and this weekend he and I could be heading to do a Pokemon tournament. But instead of doin' the cards we'll playing the video game. So I've got to train a team of the little creatures in time. And just like in the card game my plan for victory is a little wacky. I am an enigma of shenanigans! Fear me!
Anyway onto the flash fiction!


Magical Politics


           Senator Dalimion shook his hand with the large clawed ones of Tealscale, the representative of the Dragonlands. Dalimon smiled so wide that it appeared his grin stretched off his face and to his pointed ears. As any politician should, the elven senator learned to force a smile in any situation.
He found dragons to be the most disgusting and vile of creatures. He wanted to vomit as he bowed politely to the dragon representative. He didn't think the thing should be allowed to wear the red robes of diplomats.
          But he needed to make a deal with them. Like he made a deal with zombies of the world of the undead. Like he made with the goblins. Like he made with the humans. He cut whatever deals he needed or wanted to. And he would put whatever expression he needed to do it.
          He would lie and double cross. But he never got caught. A brilliant propaganda department, er, publicity department in his political party made sure that all messes cleaned up nicely. Like over bleaching clothes everything could look cleaner after the propaganda team got done with it. Though also like with over bleaching clothes whatever was underneath tended to be destroyed.
          The deals would sometimes help the elven lands, often help his party, and sometimes line his own pockets with money. He spent many years cutting deals under the direction of his party, doing as he's told, until he retired from the life of a politician.
          While hiking one day he saw an elf, just like him, but with a much lower status with a much less fake smile on his face painting a landscape of the hills. At that moment Dalimion realized he couldn't smile a real smile and he felt strings all over his body. Strings he never noticed. They no longer tugged at him as much since he retired, but they were the strings the party he worked for tugged him with as they used him as a pawn to cut deals to serve the lobbyists and political interests.
          The elf could not smile a real smile, but he could frown. And as he watched the free painter he did. Retired Senator Dalimion wondered what spell took his life away.

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