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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:20:25 GMT -6
[Exuro]
Maple Manor had always been a staple of Ignis' realm, and even here in an entirely different Entirety things didn't seem to change. Well, aside from the fact that the manor seemed to be decked out in even more gaudy decor of questionable taste; there seemed to be no end to the gilded ornamentation now present on everything from the paneling of the hallways to the tablecloths set up on a large, elegantly-carved round table situated in the middle of the dining room. The room itself seemed to somehow have grown larger, no doubt due to the peculiar and ill-defined nature of the building, though it was no less empty than usual. A veritable army of maids seemed to be in the midst of putting finishing touches on the table settings for eight different seats at the table; judging by the celebratory nature of some of the decor, there was to be some sort of celebration.
The nameplates at each of the seats seemed to indicate a seating arrangement. Now all that's required are the guests of honor!
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:20:47 GMT -6
[Iso] Already seated at the table reserved for the Pride Underking due to her residency at the Manor was Nette, boredly texting on her cell phone - truly the epitome of might and terror one expects from an Underking. The years had simultaneously changed Nette and done nothing to her. When it came down to it, she was just more exaggerated, just more spoiled, just more... purple. She came out of Ignis' conquest and hellfire completely pristine, still sitting pretty in her nice little mansion where she never really had to do any work. Without the guidance of anyone grounded in her life, she continued to grow into someone who saw no issue with the amount of privilege and splendor she had while everyone else suffered. To Nette, Nette was all that mattered was Nette. Once Ignis overthrew the old Underkings, it was no surprise that Nette managed to land a cushy spot as Pride Underking by doing nothing but being herself. At the moment, she was busy chatting with her posse - also known as Nette and the Ettes because oh yeah did I mention she also moonlights as an idol? and of course it would be named that - impatiently awaiting the beginning of this ceremony or whatever. Nette didn't really care too much about the crowning of the Wrath Underking, Noctalle. Like, she was fine or whatever, and Nette always liked free food, but did she really need so much fanfare? She was pretty sure Noctalle was gushing at the very thought, though. Not like Nette knew her too well or anything, but even she could read Noctalle's ass-kissery like it was written on a billboard. She'd been thirsting after an Underking position for, like, ever, and now she was finally getting her big moment. Nette sorta hoped something would go horribly wrong and the whole thing would be ruined, just to see the look on Noctalle's face. That'd be funny. Done whining to her yes girls "UGHHHH I'M SOOOO BOOOOOOORED," Nette idly looked around the room. The biggest question on her mind - other than "will Noctalle go bridezilla on the joint before my phone runs out of charge so I can get a vid of it" - was "where the hell is Dicro?" Dicro was the second master of Maple Manor, and yet she hadn't seen the guy in weeks. There was some briefing she didn't listen to about him being on some important mission or another for a while, but what was there even left to conquer? What could possibly be taking so much of Dicro's time? Ignis had announced this whole invasion thing, so was he busy with that? Didn't make sense to be all cagey about it if that was the case, and this amount of time seemed like a little much... In the end she didn't think too hard on it, not one for thinking too hard on anything. It was just weird, to have this whole big important ceremony and not have Ignis' right hand man around. It was less that she was worried and more that she was disappointed, because Dicro would SO give Noctalle shit and he was always the best drunk around. Hopefully this thing would be entertaining enough to make up for it. Meanwhile, a number of maids were about doing work. The first was the most recognizable to the kids at home: Celsa, who remained in Ignis' service and still never even managed to Start an assassination attempt. By now she was grizzled and hardened by the nature of En2rety, and by that I mean she got an eyepatch. And it was because of some wacky kitchen accident. She was currently stationed at the entrance to the dining hall, holding a knife and glaring ominously at any maids who were starting to go off track. One such maid was Phoebe, a huge bird in a maid outfit because... well, Maple's hiring practices haven't changed that much, okay? She was trying her very best to set the table, but the maliciousness of Celsa's gaze was making it harder what with all the trembling. The last was Hattie who, after her previous employers were taken care of, decided she might as well go for the best-paying gig in Entirety. Not like she didn't already have a maid outfit and an appropriate resume. Though, based on her co-workers, she wondered how appropriate her resume really was. Still, she did her job, allowing the other maids to go on their misadventures and whatever else while she passed the time until her next paycheck.
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:21:02 GMT -6
[Papes]
"Ah, I'm early. How embarrassing,"
First one to arrive who Wasn't Nette... he sheepishly took his seat at the table.
"I suppose leaving and coming back later to preserve what little dignity I have left isn't an option?"
Sloth Underking Olivrein, arriving early.... the irony definitely wasn't lost on him.
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:21:19 GMT -6
[Gwen] "Heh. Leaving wouldn't look very good in his eyes, you know. Wouldn't want to make him upset, would you?"[/color] A man spoke up from behind Olivrein, and smirked at him. He stepped up right in front of slightly-shorter man, and put his very punchable face right up close to Oliv's as he talked, a little quietly than before, his words only for Oliv to hear. "Wouldn't it be a shame if someone as shameless as you were to suffer the same fate as the Underkings before us, hmm? I sure would be heartbroken over that. Maybe the rest of us wouldn't have to share a spot at the table. Then maybe we could have someone so much nicer looking than you at the table. Hehe..."[/color] He laughed right in Oliv's face, before bringing his attention to the table, not caring about what his cohort might possibly have to say. It didn't matter, really. He didn't matter. No one else in the room mattered. All that mattered to him was.... the future. "Ah, here we are... a fine name, wouldn't you say? Much better than someone named after a vegetable. I mean, it's like you were named after a heavy drinking session or something... couldn't even spell it right. Heh.[/color] The Envy Underking, Brooke, took his place at the table, laughing heartily at his own insults. He then looked over at who he was sitting close to, and realized that, unfortunately for both of them, there was only a single seat in between Oliv and Brooke. Fantastic. "Ah... well, that's certainly not ideal."[/color] Brooke's expression changed to a dejected scowl, and looked over at Nette, who was literally right beside him. He was clearly annoyed about something. It was most likely quite easy to figure out what the something was, though. "Hey, Nette, you wouldn't mind changing seats, would you? I have the distinct feeling that if I stay here it's going to be a very long meeting. After all, he's sitting entirely too close to me."[/color]
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:21:32 GMT -6
[Papes]
Oliv quirked a brow at this pathetic attempt at an insult. Then again, you couldn't tell given he was wearing a half-mask.
"Olives are a fruit last time I checked. Some half-elves don't go through the human naming convention, after all. Besides, you're just jealous because Dicro doesn't think you're fuckable."
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:21:45 GMT -6
[Plastic] Crunch, crash, smash, crack, crunch...The maids' meticulous preparation was for nothing at all; the building quaked with each step as a labored breathing slogged around the corner and through the entrance; with each thud of a footstep, the air felt thicker with smog. " Ah... Has... Has the festival begun...?" Alexandrose's voice, muddied by the static of a thousand other voices trying to speak from his mouth, seemed to ring out from the fog that rolled in though every entrance of the room. It eventually showed its source; Alexandrose's slender form, once of effervescence and pallidity, was nowhere to be found in the mass of sludge that scraped its incomprehensible weight along the manors' floorboards. With a dozen claw-tipped arms protruding from every angle, it moved along like a spider to the vacant throne of gluttony, the ground sizzling with black decay where it had passed. Over the course of minutes, it righted itself in the throne, a clear churning and growling audible from within. The smog that seemed to spew from from it's every opening seemed to hold the room together with a sort of gravitational force-- not enough to move anything of import, though the dust and filth seemed to be pulled from every crevice and vent of the room. Finally comfortable, the mass extended a tendril of miasma upwards, the whole mass towering five feet above the table, and formed a featureless head-analogue with which it gave a tired grin to the others. " I... I heard talk of food." Alexandrose wheezed. " I like fruit. It's sweet..." He trailed off with an eerie distance in his voice. Tourmaline recoiled at the scene from the far end of the room. She knew the trail of ooze that evaporated and sizzled behind him wouldn't damage the floors all that much, but, like, she just vaccuumed those carpets, dammit. Knowing what was to come after, though-- She averted her eyes back to her sketchbook, which was unceremoniously opened to a WIP of Orchid slapping each resident of the manor with his chongus, one by one. Business as usual around here. Alexandrose, finding no food in his immediate presence, turned his face to one of displeasure. " Ah... I see. It's not begun. Please, then, pardon me, as I'm famished..." From within the sludge, he hacked up a, uh, goo-covered Protein Ball that seemed to quiver and tremble as if were breathing. Alexandrose stared, the chunk seeping a black mist that seemed to flow into Alexandrose's head-analogue, and soon fell limp. It crumbled, and, with the huff of Alexandrose having finished his snack, was scattered onto the floor as ash. Tourmaline turned to fetch the dustpan. " So," Alexandrose croaked, turning to his fellow Underkings with a satisfied grin. " When will our new company be served...?"
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:22:04 GMT -6
[Tsuki] Following shortly after the arrival of our most esteemed glutton, another maid entered the room. Dressed in the darker tone of Deep Ignis Indigo, the maid made his way silently down the length of the room, taking a long drag from their kiseru as they did so. The deep indigo smoke that came from the end of the pipe, and from between the soft indigo painted lips of the maid would disperse around the room, leaving a heavy smell of floral scented weed. The maid then sat down in the throne marked for Lust, sat back with legs crossed, and twirled his finger at the end of one of his very carefully styled indigo twin drills. "I see I'm not the last to arrive. Though I am shocked to be here before you, Oliv. If I keep this up, it'll be I who is called Sloth, ohohohoh!" Mei2 laughed into the back of his hand. "It's always such a pleasure to see all my lovelies in one place, I just can't wait for the last of us to arrive. And then there's Brooke. He's here too. Ah, but I am glad I made it on time, I had to attend to, ah... business."
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:22:19 GMT -6
[Roz] As the others began to filter in and take their seats, the newest Underking, the one to be crowned, the true guest of honor, arrived to little fanfare. But she had expected as such. This was to be a rather... intimate gathering, after all. She strode into the dining room without a care in the world, trailed by another white-haired woman in military dress. Noctalle herself had an opera-length cigarette holder of carved bone cradled between the fingers of one hand, and a metal box covered in magical runes and engravings hovering idly over the other. Her body was adorned with a magnificent fur coat – a lustrous golden pelt inlaid with carved bone decorations and a number of large and imposing gemstones, all either blue as the sky or deep purple as Master Ignis himself – covering what seemed to be a light evening dress, as black as the night. A bone crown rested atop her head, a blue and purple flame burning on top each and every point, and she even had a pair of matching bone sunglasses, as if someone asked her if she could get any more gaudy and she took it as a challenge. Slowly, carefully, deliberately, she advanced towards the table. She looked each and every maid who dared to steal a glance dead in the eye with murderous intent. Every movement was an impression. Every step, every sneer, every glare. “ Knight,” she ordered her servant with a single word as she approached her seat. “ Right away, my lady,” the servant replied, pulling the chair out without hesitation. Noctalle gracefully took the seat and waved her knight away. The knight bowed, and moved to stand behind the chair. There she would remain for the duration of the little soiree. Noctalle turned her head from side to side, slowly, taking in her company. Nette. Dear, sweet Nette. She may as well have been Ignis’s pet. Even now, in the world Ignis had created, some level of childish naiveté defined her, and Noctalle often wondered why Ignis chose to keep someone like her so close. Ah, and speaking of younglings, there was Olivrein. A sad and pathetic creature in his own right. The spark of youth had never left his face, but his soul was as scarred as anyone else’s. But none so scarred as Brooke. None who reveled in it so much as he. Few truly liked the man, his deeds and methods historically being rather similar to her own heinous acts in his heyday. A monster after her own heart. And then there was Alexandrose. A monster in a more literal sense. She had heard once that he was not always the shambling, incomprehensible creature that now sat before her, awaiting his next meal, but it was difficult for her to see him as anything else. She did not have the time or energy to waste on a long lost past. Finally, Meito. Oh, how she despised this one. After all, it is so very hard to suck up to your superiors and worm your way into the upper echelons when there is always someone standing in your way, trying to do the same, undermining you at every turn whether intentionally or not... and Noctalle couldn’t help but feel slighted when Ignis chose to promote one of his maids, his lowly servants, to a coveted, honorable position such as this before her, after all she had done... Yes, some were clearly deserving of their positions. Imposing, powerful beings. Others, she wagered, were a sick joke by the Master himself, purely for his own entertainment. And for how long the seat of Wrath had stayed unfilled, for how many had risen to positions of power before her, for how much she had sacrificed with her own time and resources to secure land and souls for the Master... She felt nothing but rage. It made her sick to her stomach. She truly was the queen of Wrath. “ ... So you’re the sorry lot that Master Ignis has designated as his ‘Underkings...’” Immediately, she burst into hysterical laughter. Horrid, witch-like cackling. Slam! Slam! Slam! She smacked the fist that the box had been hovering over (which itself remained floating next to her Knight) against the table as her cacophonous crowing continued, before abruptly coming to a stop. She lowered her glasses and took a long drag on her cigarette. “ Oh, look at us all. A motley crew of children, monsters, and bootlickers! Oh, I could just laugh, and laugh, and laugh. But I’m one of you, now! How so very quaint. I’m sure we’ll all get along just... fine.” This whole gathering was a farce. Everyone at the table, a mere puppet, including herself. But to someone like her, even a farce could prove to be useful in the end. After all, the implication of power was often enough to be able to exert the real thing. And if it was enough to fuel the propaganda machine among her own troops, enough for it to spread throughout Ignis’s empire that she was a big deal, that she was not one to be trifled with... it was enough for her. She needed a boost. Now more than ever. She took another drag, and blew a ring of smoke, which hung lazily in the air in front of her Knight’s face. The Knight did her best to maintain a straight face and not cough, but her face betrayed her discomfort nonetheless. “ However,” she stated, her eyes locked upon the empty seats, “ it seems as if we are still missing some guests, are we not?” Oh, the anticipation. How would her dear Master Ignis try to ruin this special day for her, she wondered? He had always strung her along for this long, the promise of power dangled over her, always just out of reach... But how much lower could she really go? Just as Entirety had breathed its last in the face of the Master's war machine, she too was on the brink of losing everything. So why not take a chance? Why not risk humiliation if it means a chance at the respect and recognition she truly deserved? There was so much more left to gain in this horrid world.
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:22:37 GMT -6
[Exuro]
"Careful there, your ego is showing. Would hate to have to reallocate resources into branding you Pride Underking. Also, trying to pay down the cost of the colllateral damage when Nette here gets the girl squad to try kicking your ass up and down the manor. Just thinking of the bottom line makes me shiver."
The final unoccupied Underking seat was abruptly filled by a sulfuric burst of pinkish-purple smoke, which quickly dissipated to reveal a man with slicked-back blonde hair, immaculate Ignis-styled shades, and a purple sport suit with accompanying pink vest that would be unmistakable for any of those gathered in the room: Greed Underking Markis Delgato. Kicking back in his chair, he rested his feet on the dining table, plucking a cigar from a gaudy jeweled box that had appeared next to him.
"Who's the other seat for, anyways? I don't think the bossman has time for a pleasant meal with the likes of us."
Speaking of meals, the maids would know that now is the time to start serving, especially with Alexandrose in the room. Nobody wants to be the Gluttony Underking's next meal, after all.
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:23:33 GMT -6
[Iso] Finally! Well, actually, that hadn't taken all too long. As soon as Oliv came in Nette lit up. Oliv was one of the few bearable Underkings, and she let this be known by chuckling at his comment. Before she could engage in any friendly banter, however, Brooke walked in. Fucking Brooke. Nette was sure he was probably efficient and murder and blah blah blah but God did he fucking suck!! He was so pompous and full of himself, which was saying something because Nette knew she was pompous and full of herself. Brooke, though... he just had this nasty skeevy energy to him that made her groan whenever she had to be around him. "Ugh, no way, dude. I'm not letting you taint my seat," she refused, waving him away. "Isn't it bad enough that your seat is next to mine? Can't you get riled up over Oliv's dunk and be Wrath or something?"Alexandrose was a far more welcome sight. Though, really, that wasn't saying much. Thoroughly grateful that her seat wasn't next to his, Nette scooched back a little nonetheless and tried not to look at him too much. She could get why Ignis kept him around and whatnot, but Underking? Really? Didn't he already have a creepy weirdo to eat everything? Weren't there... safer people to bring into the manor? Meito's arrival eased things up a bit, because he was, like, the one other bearable Underking. They obviously went way back, being OG maids, and Ignis' conquest hadn't made him totally intolerable or anything like that. Unfortunately, the next person to walk in was Noctalle, with her cackling and slamming and her basically calling them all lowly worms and essentially being Brooke with worse fashion sense. Seriously, who let her dress herself? She was embarrassing to look at. And what was her weird obsession with bones? In her lust for ass-kissing she for some reason thought everyone would be super into her awesome bone shit, and like Nette guessed it was metal but she had a whole jewelry box just to hold Noctalle's creepy morbid gifts at this point. They were great for, like, Halloween costumes and the entire month of October and y'know what also September, but how could she go around wearing bone sunglasses and take herself seriously? Where did she even keep getting all these bones?! ...Probably best that she didn't know, she figured. Fuckin' bunch of weirdos in this club. Speaking of! Now Markis was here. Whoo. He like, sort of had potential, but the problem was that as with Brooke and Noctalle he had an ego, looked down on everyone, and had too many solid lines. That was Nette's schtick, and she didn't like it when people tried to be cooler than her. It just made her cringe. "Ugh, don't remind me about how apparently the newbie gets to bring some arm candy. If I got to bring guests then you'd be listening to something way better than the sound of your own voices," the groaned, a gentle Marionettiste-brand breeze starting up in her vicinity as she attempted to ward off the inundation of smoke half of the Underkings insisted on bringing with them. "Y'know, if you ever want a job change, you'd look super cute in twin tails. Just sayin," Nette suggested to Noctalle's knight, pouting a little as she imagined herself surrounded by cool girls who would be praising her right about now. No homo, though. Once Markis brought the subject up Nette raised an eyebrow at the empty spot, now wondering who was supposed to be its occupant. "...Why wouldn't it be for Ignis? Isn't this supposed to be, like, important or something? Apparently not," she continued with a smirk, trying not to make eye contact with Noctalle despite her casual tone. "I dunno, maybe it's for, like, Dicro? Is he back from wherever the fuck yet? He's important enough, I guess," she suggested, grabbing a handful of macarons from the platter Hattie passed by with. Everyone knew not to invite Nette somewhere and not have them, and the maids knew better than to scold her for being a five-year-old. On that note, the maids started setting food out now that the table was mostly filled. While Celsa and Hattie apparently felt nothing getting close to the various hellfolk around, Phoebe was clearly on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Balancing a platter of hors d'oeuvres on the back of her head, she slowly lowered her neck between Noctalle and Brooke, the platter audibly clattering against her skull as she slowly scooched it onto the table and the squawking in her mind clear on her face. Just another normal dinner!
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:23:55 GMT -6
[Gwen] Brooke slammed his fists down on his chair as Oliv absolutely roasted him. He sputtered, just trying to spit words out. During all the effort he spent trying to think of sick dunks he mixed up basic shit. So he deserved that roast. But Oliv mentioning Dicro absolutely was too far. "I don't care about Dicro... he's just a stepping stone in the greater scheme of things... a stone who just so happens to be... really cute..." Brooke grumbled to himself, too quietly for anyone who actually cared to be heard. And since no one cared except himself, everything was fine! He then returned his attention to Nette, who snarked at him too. Hmph. "Tch... tainted, huh? We're all tainted here, Nette... but at least some of us have the decency to shower before arriving here. You know, a little hygiene goes a long way... I swear I could smell you from outside the manor. Heh."[/b] He eventually calmed down, his smile slowly returning to his face. Pleased with his comeback. He watched as the others slumped in, each one more disgusting than the last. If only they weren't around... that'd certainly be splendid. He snickered to himself. This new one though... Nocatelle, was it? She seemed quite similar to himself. But like, with a bone fetish. She also seemed a lot more violent than most of the others... She was certainly going to be a headache waiting to happen. A thorn in his side. But he laughed again. Then Nette spoke again, much to his chargin. But she did make a point. She drew his attention towards the 8th seat. A very empty seat, as it were. All the Underkings were here, and yet there remained an unoccupied chair. How curious... "Honestly, it doesn't really matter who is joining us. Because unless Ignis himself shows up, I really couldn't care. When has he ever shown up on time, anyway? If it is him were waiting on, I highly suspect that he won't be arriving here for at least another hour or so. Plenty of time to have some dinner though... before Alexandrose eats it all, of course. Ah, and Nocatelle... I do like the sound of having a personal assistant. Perhaps I'll summon... one of the maids. A particular one, in fact."[/color] He raised his hands up in the air, and the gemstones adorning his gauntlets glistened for a moment. He snapped his fingers, and behind him, a rip in reality showed up. A gust of wind blew gently through the room as the figure of a pink-haired girl in a maid outfit slumped out of it, grumbling. "Hey dick-for-brains, can you at least warn me before you do that? Honestly. I was only a single room away. You could've just used your loud-mouth to... to..." Kalpana snapped at her boss, really letting him have it before he turned his seat around, and glared at her, raising his right hand, preparing to snap it again. She quickly adjusted her posture, standing straight up, her face aimed at the floor, as she trembled in fear, all her previous confidence disappearing in an instant. "S-sorry... what is it you wish of me, Master Brooke?""Good girl. You know your place. Now, go and fetch me a proper drink. The stuff in my glass tastes like bathwater. Ah, and speaking of bathwater, I'd suggest you clean yourself up, as well." Brooke spoke, his last sentence confusing her momentarily, before he suddenly splashed the contents of his glass all over her. He let out a boisterous laugh as Kalpana looked on the verge of tears. But also filled with a burning rage that could rival any Wrath Underking. He raised his right hand again, and she returned to staring at the ground. "Heh... hehe... Pfft... Hahaha!! That look on your face is priceless...! Come now, maid, you know that if you ever wish to see your darling brother again... you must obey my every order. Now run along now, sweetheart. I'm getting more parched by the second. Wouldn't want to keep me waiting..."[/color] Kalpana ran off towards the kitchen, running past the other maids, sniffling and sobbing from the abusive nature of her "boss". A scumbag, through and through, he was. But one with the power to back up his threats and ego. Unfortunately... While he waited for his personal slave maid, he started taking food from the platter in front of him, purposely grabbing for the stuff on it that he knew Nette actually enjoyed, trying to make sure to leave her everything he knew she disliked on the platter. Not that he was going to eat most of it. He just thought it was funny.
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:24:06 GMT -6
[Tsuki]
"Such a disgrace, treating your personal maid in such a way. Such encounters should be more intimate. The hand that loves gets more than the hand that whips. Of course, the hand that does both gets even more, ohohohoh~" Having said that, Meito made a platter for himself consisting of chocolates, some fancily cut watermelon, a few oysters, asparagus, strawberries, and a chili pepper. As he did, he eyed what Brooke was doing, and with a tap of his Kiseru, caused a mouth to open on Brooke's plate, swallowing everything on it. Shortly after, a second mouth would appear on Alexandrose's plate, which would then deposit the stolen food onto his plate, in perfect pristine, and delicious state. Good thing those mouths from the kiseru don't slobber or anything. Just a toothy worm hole.
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:24:19 GMT -6
[Papes]
Brooke's treatment of his personal maid left Oliv feeling infuriated. He kept an excellent poker face nowadays, but it didn't stop his anger from comtinuing to boil on the inside. He did smirk when Meito redistributed the food to Alexandrose, though.
"Honestly Brooke, you having good hygiene doesn't matter much since you have the personality of a golden turd anyway," Oliv deadpanned without so much as glancing in Brooke's direction as put some food on his plate.
As if he hadn't just made that comment, he turned to Meito. "Do you think anyone's ever gotten our titles mixed up before? As flattering as it is, it's gotta be at least a little awkward."
Why hasn't he roasted wrath lady yet? Well for one thing her bone fetish makes him very uncomfortable, so he really makes an effort not to accidentally look in her direction.
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:24:31 GMT -6
[Roz]
And so the late arrival had graced them with his presence. Old Markis was perhaps the only one to have a worse fashion sense than even herself or Master Ignis. And the Master's lack of style was legendary.
"Oh, shove your 'bottom line' up your ass, Markis," Noctalle spat in his general direction. As if he was one to talk. As if anyone at this table was rightfully fit to judge. They were all sinners, it was all there in their titles.
As Nette went about her usual tantrum, she found herself cracking a wicked little smile.
"'Arm candy', is it? Don't make me laugh. This miserable creature is fit only to follow orders, not to... lay hands upon me. Think of it as a service animal, as an instrument of my wrath, to do that which is unfit for my hands. But I suppose an ex-maid like yourself would feel right at home among the dirt and filth, so I can forgive you for your misunderstanding. I'm sure I have a benevolent bone somewhere in or around my body..."
Noctalle's face settled on a smug smile, satisfied with her morbid joke. The Knight did not seem to repsond to Nette's comment at all, remaining focused, ever looking forward towards her Lady. Unlike the wretch that Brooke summoned forth. Did he get some sick satisfaction out of being talked down to by his property or something? And that Meito, once again acting so high and mighty... Sickening.
"Oh, so much will left in that one," she mused, unimpressed. "I've been there, done that. Forcing compliance in my... things through threats and blackmail. It's just sooo inefficient in the end. So much work for so little reward. They always find some way to bite at the hand that feeds, and then it falls to you to clean up the mess."
She reached back with her cigarette holder, and tapped her Knight on the face with the end. The Knight remained stoic for the most part, but it was becoming ever apparent that she didn't appreciate the smell of cigarette smoke. Nonetheless, she endured. For her Lady.
"Now, breaking your toys... Breaking them in, rather. Inspiring true single-minded loyalty towards you and you alone... Well, you'd be surprised at the lengths that this one would go for me, and for Master Ignis, and perhaps even the lot of you, if the situation were dire enough. Why go to the effort to preserve the things it once cared about when you can have it slay even kin on command? Why bother loving or whipping at all? Such a waste. But you all do whatever you all do."
She flicked the end of the cigarette holder against the rim of Brooke's empty glass, now her ashtray, and began idly grazing at the hors d'oeuvres set about the table.
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Post by Tayl on Sept 5, 2019 20:24:51 GMT -6
[Plastic]
The food. Oh, the food. Alexandrose quivered as the first of the dishes were set on the table, with Tourmaline pulling along an entire cart of bizarre, nonsensical dishes; rancid-looking meat skewered on jagged bones, sausages dotted with folded skin and sinew, stewed in all sorts of pungent & acidic sauces, each a different hue of deep red. No doubt these were the kitchen's scraps and leftovers, prepared exactly to the customer's whims. A shrill whine cut through the chatter in the room as Alexandrose's body shook and salivated (splashing Meito and Markis in the crossfire), and his body swelled, a new wave of smoke bursting forth as a maw tore itself open in his back, and, from it, an unearthly clattering and churning noise erupted.
Teeth. A million or more, gnashing, tumbling, gasping for affection. They shimmered an unearthly white, as if kept clean by purification, fragments of bone from meals long past mixed within. He brought his claws down on each dish with an otherworldly hunger, and scraped each dish off the cart into his mouth, plates and all. The weight in the air seemed to ease with each cronch, and the churning smoke that made up Alexandrose's face seemed to calm. Tourmaline, without a word, turned to the kitchen to fetch the second cart of many, many more.
Alexandrose surveyed the scene, his attention now freed. He had heard Olivrein and Brooke squabbling as he fed; the two of them of particular disinterest to him. Oliv's presence had rarely mingled with Alexandrose's own, which he attributed to his rightly slothiness; his disdain for Brooke coming from, uh, the same reason as everyone else's. Nevertheless, they were interesting company, despite containing nothing that had once ever piqued his endless curiosity.
Nette was the one to feed him in that regard; he listened to every word that spewed from her mouth with as much intensity and conviction as their speaker. He often followed her like a puppy, soaking in her troubles as she chattered away, conditioned to expect a smile on her face as humans often find after venting; whether Nette considered his fascination a bother was another matter entirely, and one he wasn't all that concerned with. With her, he felt purposeful; useful, even. Like a tool, praised for its longevity.
His relationship with Meito, however, was one he felt much more equal with. Meito seemed to delight in all sorts of things beyond his understanding; even something so plain as showing his form was enough to bring a smile to Meito's face. Punishments, violence, restraints, torture... All things that he'd only been told brings despair. To this curious creature, it brought pure joy, and sparkled with an innocence and enthusiasm to spread those smiles to all it met. The gnashing of his teeth slowed as the thought crossed his mind.
Much like himself, he thought. The clattering and churning resumed.
He returned to his senses, looking down at his plate and finding a whole meal that wasn't there before. A routine gift from Meito. He leaned over, thanking Meito for the gift with a grunt and a nod, and shoveled the plate into his maw.
Markis had no presence in Alexandrose's existence, as he had nothing to spare for the poor, hungry fellow.
Noctalle, though, was a different story. He had seen her only in passing before; perhaps as an unrecognizable face on the street, or having stolen a glance of her speaking to Ignis or Orchid on some occasion. She was unlike any person he'd ever met before. She spoke with a level of conviction that gripped Alexandrose by the very being, as if despair drizzled from her every word like honey. It was tantalizing. She treated him with a kindness mixed with confidence. Something he'd never once felt from anyone else.
What filled him with uncertainty was her indifference to him. He approached her from time to time, asking to play together like the one time they fetched bones in the courtyard as she could lament her worries as Nette often did. She often refused, speaking in words that he knew she didn't mean. Still, with no capacity to doubt her, he could do nothing but look forward to her coronation. He listened to her words as she slammed her fist on the table, and heard only true praise.
Tourmaline could hardly keep up with the food; she rotated carts in and out of the room and a brisk jogging pace, bringing platter after platter, and still wondered to herself if it would ever be enough. Gripped by hunger, his claws lashed out at some of the more proper food on the table, causing Tourmline to yelp and quicken her pace even more.
He tried to speak to the group, but his mouth was full. He waited patiently for it to finish, seasoning his meal with the malice pulled from the words being spoken around the table.
He grinned a toothless grin on his face in anticipation for the second course. So far, this meal tasted good.
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