Drabble: Guinny_Hamilton said, "Marcus Hamilton, please. Prompt: thunder."
(255 words)

They spoke to him through the thunder.

Not thunder and lightning as Earth-of-Mortals knew it, of course. There were no clouds here. But the voices of the Senior Partners were enough to shatter the very air, sending lightning bursts of discharged energy to strike whatever was in the way.

For a while, Marcus Hamilton was lost in the glory of it. These were his masters, and although no man or demon enjoyed bowing down, no one could find shame in submitting to power like this.

Perhaps Marcus was a bit too lost in all that glory, because the Senior Partners felt it necessary to redirect his attention. Once, twice, thrice in quick succession, lightning struck his body.

Right then. He had received the message clearly. Angel had finally gone too far and was to be taken down. Shouldn't be a problem for Marcus. He wondered what the vampire had done-it had been a long time ago and many dimensions away that Marcus had seen his masters this pissed.

He nodded his acknowledgement of his orders and reached to straighten his tie, but found only the charred end of it, brittle in his strong grasp. He pouted. He had liked that tie. Wore it to all his bloodiest assignments.

Lightning struck near Marcus again and he hastened to reassure the Senior Partners that yes, definitely, he was on his way to pluck Angel's wings, going straight to the Los Angeles office, no delays.

Just as soon as he had fetched himself a new, non-lightning-scorched suit.

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