The Forgotten God (Table 4) (Inactive)

Game Master Rednal

Hexy dives into the earth, smelling the sacred loam, and reveling in the anarchy of it all. She squirms, holding fist-sized clumps of of earth, and pulling some up to her face just to smell the freedom. She nibbles on some of the grass and leaves as she luxuriates in... well, just the existence around her.

She begins crying slightly. Tears, not of fury, hatred, or sorrow, but of overwhelming emotion. Primal. Deep-seated. Beyond logic or verbal reasoning. She begins laughing and crying at the same time.

It's like a starving woman placed in front of a buffet, or bringing a drowning woman into air. A woman in a desert suddenly brought to a clear, sparkling mountain stream (sans parasites, hopefully).

... or a woman craving a drug finally given a hit.

Until this moment, this place, this time, she realized, she'd never left the little stone box - always held, always contained, always ordered. Now, for the first time, she is a place where she is, truly, free.

At this moment, it is truly the most beautiful thing in the entire world. Nothing can compare.

"**** me. **** me and don't ever stop." she purrs to Elysium itself, literally swimming across the ground, and wallowing in the glory of unbridled anarchy. "Nothing." she says to no one and nothing noticeable in particular. Who she's talking to, or what she's talking about is unclear. It's unclear if she even knows.

It takes a long time for her to get over the sheer wallowing.

After a while, she lies panting lids half-open, and glances upward and over at Marmael. "Oh, yes." she says. "Yes, to this place. Forever."

**** the differences in ethos to **** **** **** ****.

She needed this. This place. These people.

Her eyes briefly touch on the doorway. A large, predatory smile breaks out across her face. She licks her lips.

If the only thing standing between me and this place is an open doorrrrr... she purrs, mentally, before realizing that she's purring alloud.

"... rrrrRRRRrrrr..."

Her eyes glisten, moist with excitement, lids half-open, breathing heavily.

"Swimming" as a form of movement is not an easy task on solid land, but perfect for her purposes: having as much physical intimate contact as she can with the surrounding environment.

She "swims" (aided, a bit, by crab-walking with her feet) up to Marmael, to look up at her from below.

"Yes. I accept the mission." she says, sedately. "I mean, yes, I already did, but... oh, do I ever accept the mission. Again." she adds.

She rolls over at Marmael's feat, brushes a hand through her hair to remove the largest clumps of dirt, and stands, looking regretfully at the loam beneath her, like a satisfied woman being forced to leave her lover in bed in the morning.

Smiling in a slightly intoxicated sedate and very happy manner, she asks, "So, Lovey: what do we know?"

As Marmael talks, she circles the celestial girl, almost like a shark swimming around a fresh fish. She turns that, instead, to the door when the girl is finished, probing it with her mind and thoughts.

She'd use her <ruaf'lklid> of course, but she didn't have that any more - wasn't even sure if it was a standard qlippoth feature, or something that had been unique to her in a lifetime long since past.

Eyes blazing and wide, she stairs into the doorway and circles it more, encouraging it to give up it's deepest secrets to her.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 2 = 17 or +10+2 Enhanced Diplomacy
Disable Device: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (20) + 0 = 20
Knowledge (dungeoneering): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24
Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
Spellcraft: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Use Magic Device: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

EDIT: CHA: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23 For Marmael, Elysium, and anything that might be watching, including Asmodeus, Abadar, Torag, and whoever's on the other side of the door.

You know what? I'm giving you 115 EXP just for the good roleplaying, bringing you up to 2500. You've earned it.

"Less than we'd like." Marmael said, holding out her hand. It simply stopped in the air just in front of the door, and space itself seemed to ripple slightly. "We've had it under surveillance since it first appeared, of course. Nothing's gone in or out of it... but we can't get through it no matter what we do, and it's not yet important enough for direct attention from one of the great powers. All we really know is that creatures, objects, and energies affiliated with the celestial realms can't go through it." she glared at the door. "Of course, it is a demiplane, and nobody knows what's inside of it... but it does seem habitable, at least. Beyond that..." she shrugged. "We just don't know."

The door itself is very solid, and apparently constructed of some sort of wood. Very normal, very ordinary wood - no infernally twisted trees watered by the endless tears of sinners, or chaotic plants from the depths of the Maelstrom... just wood of some kind. The only thing you can truly perceive is that it feels, well... foreign. As a chaotic deity, you're quite familiar with things being unusual, but this wood, despite its ordinary build, just seems different than it should. Not in a harmful way, but you're having a difficult time placing the exact sensation. The, ah, intoxicating effect of Elysium might be making things harder than usual.

"Mmmm..." she purrs, slightly intoxicated and heady as she examines the would, detecting magic.

"Normal wood - not from here - nothing infernal or whatever..." she mutters softly, looking over it.

She leans over and gently places her face up against the smooth, hard, carved wood, rubbing first her cheek - gently -, and then pressing her entire form against the door, breathing heavily against it.

"Oh, yes... oh, yes, I see..." she says, her hand lovingly grasping the handle and opening...

"Wait for me, Featherheart..." she whispers to Marmael.

I used the term "handle" because I didn't know if there was a "knob" or any sort of obvious opening mechanism. There may not even be a handle, but if so, she'd still push... or pull... in an attempt to open it and enter.

It was already open, but yes, there is a basic knob.

As you step through the doorway, you enter what seems to be a short passageway. Marmael remains unable to enter the area, but watches patiently as you move out of sight. The same dark wood of the door seems to have been used to make the passage, with planks pressed so tightly together that tunnel may as well be one solid piece of wood. Ahead of you is another open door, and as you step through it, you emerge into a small chamber. In front of you, across from a desk of solid wood, sits a figure in a mask - one half of it smiling and the other side seeming angry, with the rest of the body covered by a thick brown robe.

"My, my, what an interesting guest. And here I was thinking about going somewhere else soon. Tell me, Neverdemon, would you like to play a game?" He claps his hands and pulls them apart - as he does so, a multitude of cards appear on the table. You recognize them as one of the common decks of the world - the cards used in something called a Harrowing, though they've neither been sorted nor chosen. "We both know your past, and your present is quite droll... but I dare say that your future could be quite interesting to see."

Oops! Yes, you'd said it was already open. Sorry! Children jumping, swinging, crawling, and running into me while posting can be... distracting to say the least.

Hex - ah, there's her current name - continues to breathe heavily and excitedly, even while the exhilaration of Elysium itself slowly wears off in the monotonous neutrality of the dark halls.

Perception along the halls for any subtle symbols or traps: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

When she arrives at the man in the desk, she smiles.

Enhance Diplomacy, Tap Inner Beauty, IS (Cultural Adaptation)

"Oh, good, you know me already." she says, winningly.

Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16

Her smile is absolutely stunning.

"Yes, and yes... for a price."

Charisma: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 4 + 2 = 23
Bluff: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 10 + 2 = 14
Charisma: 1d20 + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 28 or +10+2+2+2

She looks at him. "The price is: you tell me the gist of who you are, give me assurances - that I can believe and return to the residents of Elysium - that you're not gonna do anything to my new favorite place in all of existence, and that you let me check out the rest of this place (barring nothing silly like "surprise, it's infinitely-or-unreasonably large and you have to explore it before you return!") and return, unmolested, to my friend waiting outside. Because frankly, Half-'n'-half, I've no idea who or what you are."

She continues to smile, staring, hungrily. "In exchange, we'll read both of our futures together (should you be so inclined), and I'll extend a similar offer to you from my new pals... which is generally a pretty good thing."

She looks him up and down, appraising him, frankly. "Any one of these things may - depending on what's being noted - be exchanged for a physically intimate, exceedingly fine time, presuming no backstabbing, corruption, poisoning, diseases, yadda-yadda-yadda-you-get-the-idea, etc. And, of course, I like what I see under said hood... or mask." Her eyes explain that she is entirely serious.

"Oh, and no: I won't be a predator, presupposing you return the favor." she grins, wryly, her eyes still hungrily staring. "Not good for business. Also, I'm open. To negotiation, I mean. Yes." she grins, suggestively.

The mask's expression never wavers, even as the one behind it simply moves a hand over the table, collecting the cards into a deck that he calmly begins shuffling. "Whether or not you ever return anywhere is up to you. That's the power of free will." he said. Shuffle. Shuffle. "You could return to Elysium and bask in mindless bliss for all eternity - the Fatebreaker would let you do it, and her mother would accept it. Or you could return to the Abyss and sink back into depravity once more... though at the moment, I dare say you'd most like the madness of the Maelstrom." Shuffle. Shuffle. "Of course, there are little things like chaos theory. No matter how wild you are, your results are inevitable, and escaping from what you are isn't so easy." Shuffle. Shuffle. His hands abruptly stopped, and he flipped the top card onto the table, flipping it upright as he did.

"The Uprising. Chaotic Neutral card of Strength - a might that catches you in powers greater than you can control. Do you really think you can protect the Fatebreaker, or that she won't be driven to leave you over and over again for the sake of helping others? You are weak, little goddess. And also a naturally suspicious sort, so allow me to make it clear: You are my guest here, and all I offer you is what you need. I merely wish to observe the actions of those whose destiny has brought them to me and provide a little guidance upon their paths. I make no claims upon you, your possessions, or others, nor will I ask you to perform a task after leaving. The only payment I seek is the right to observe you once you leave, without interfering in your affairs. Has that settled you?"

"For now." she says, cheerfully. She likes this creature. It would be hers, eventually. She likes it when they watch.

"Very well, then." the figure behind the mask said - and you get the sense he's smiling. He shuffles just a few more times, then flicks nine cards onto the tabletop, face-down. "You rely on charm so much that I believe we shall use Charisma as the facet of your reality. Which of the nine positions do you feel is most important for me to read?" Most people, of course, went with the position that best matched their lives - but ultimately, any would do.

"What's your "favorite" position? Given a decent description, I can probably do that..." she adds, slyly, grinning.

EDIT: for clarity and English

The figure in the mask simply looks at you. Though his expression remains concealed... it seems he'll gladly decide things for you if you don't decide for yourself and who knows what might happen as a result of that?

She shrugs. "Honestly, I've no idea what any of this is. I know of Harrow readings, but I know little of the specifics. Still... I'm open for anything." she smiles, lightly. "If you want me to choose? 'On top' is a fun default answer - whatever that means to you. If, on the other hand, you'd like to show me how it's done, I'll be all over that..." she implies, tongue unconsciously running over her lips, slowly, from one side to the other.

It's worth noting that I, the player, have a more solid idea of Harrowing that Hex does. She's certainly heard of it - probably watched it at some point in her long life - but she's never relied on the cards, nor does she know how to do such a thing, as it's been a really long time, and she's (clearly) forgotten much. As a player, I'd naturally tend to steer her towards Chaotic Good... but Hex has little knowledge or inclination of what that might mean, and would tend to find it highly irrelevant, besides.

EDIT:

"Or..." she says, "if you don't want to decide, but I have to pick a spot..."

1d9 ⇒ 4

"Here." she points at random to the left central space. The... lawful... neutral... spot. Hm. Axis?

"Hm. Left side. Not exactly my normal preference... but I can work with anything you like. Then you work your way down and around, or something? It's been eons since I've actually seen anyone do this." she says, mostly appraising how readily she could, uh, "interact with" this particular figure.

1d3 ⇒ 2
1d3 ⇒ 2

"Or here." she gestures, again, randomly, to the top central point. Neutral good. "Mmmm... I do love being on top... or wherever you'd like." she says, hungrily.

"In case it's not stupendously obvious, I've no idea what, exactly, I'm pointing at. I'd rather you choose what you want for me... because, frankly, I want you." she steps toward the desk. "I find you intriguing... and I like it when people watch." she says, running hands through her hair, and down her neck, and the rest of her form... a cleaning gesture, to rid herself of any leftovers from Elysium, but also a suggestive, desirous one.

Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

She thinks about it, smiling. "Or maybe I do, and just don't care. I'm weird that way." she says evasively, grinning.

She leans onto the desk, leaning forward and over. "You're an enigma, wrapped in a mystery, wrapped in a mask. I want you to read me. I want you to watch me. And I want you." she says, breathing deeply and slowly.

Charisma: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 4 + 2 = 24 For reasons.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8 To notice details about it.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18 To get a read on its feelings.

"So. Which position do you see me in?" she asks, entirely serious position. "Read me. Please."

EDIT 2:
Bluff: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 10 + 2 = 16
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 30 or +10+2+2+2

EDIT 3: Because I don't think it's clear, Hex is entirely happy if he follows through with the cards or the other implied proposition. I don't know whether or not she knows anything about Harrow, but Hex knows and is being deliberately ambiguous. She'd rather he choose where to start, however... because that tells something about him...

One by one, the man in the mask taps the cards - seeming utterly unfazed by attempts to get on his good side and change his mind on, well, pretty much anything. Most beings can't even begin to control themselves that well, but as each card is tapped, it's revealed, starting on the top left and moving right, then down to the next row.

The spread is complete, and the man peers down at the location of the cards.

The Brass Dwarf - The Lost - The Cyclone
The Winged Serpent - The Keep - The Publican
The Tyrant - The Paladin - The Juggler

Slowly, the man traces his finger around, hissing slightly behind his mask as he marks the alignments of the cards. "Very interesting."

LN - CE - CE
LG - NG - CG
LE - LG - CG

"You chose the Winged Serpent." the man said calmly. "The position of a new beginning of your soul, and the opposite of who you were. It represents your wisdom, a bridge between the knowledge you have and the judgments you've made. You realized it was wisest to leave Axis, and so you did."

His hand moves again, and he points to the cards on the left. "Your past. Though you were born in madness, all of your readings here focus on law, a perfect match for the entirety of your past. Your actions were not the chaos you thought they were - they were inevitable. Yet the positions of goodness and neutrality were reversed, while evil is in its proper place. It is the only true placement in this spread - the Tyrant, a ruler who harms those he rules. Such as your celestial lovers, for example. Make no mistake - you began as a true embodiment of evil. Further, it is the only card that matches the most significant trait in your life - your charisma. Make no mistake - the Tyrant is a crucial card in this spread, more important than any other."

His hand moves to the right column of the spread.

"Your future. All is in chaos, but the positions of good and evil have been reversed. Your morality is limited, and you will have difficulty telling what the right thing to do is. Yet the good outweighs the evil, and I believe you will triumph in the end. Unstoppable destruction gives way to fellowship, and concludes with the one who plays with fates - an apt description of your entire life."

He turned his attention to the top row. "Lawful neutrality, followed twice by chaotic evil. Your escape from Axis, your tendency to self indulgence, and your acceptance of temptations. You have a tendency to slide into depravity when confronted with any type of order, regardless of whether or not it is appropriate. Further, a showing of invulnerability that gives way to an even more unstoppable force - the loss of your godhood."

For the middle row, "A perfect line of good, leading from law to chaos, but one place down from a perfect match. All of your attempts at structure lead to chaos, and true stability is denied in your life, and goodness will not come to you so easily... but it is a powerful line, and though you may have difficulty with order, goodness will be easier for you once you have obtained it. It also shows a bridge to strength and resolve, and with that resolve comes the fellowship you crave."

For the bottom row, "Beginning with lawful evil, and your encounter of Hell. It first changes to good while maintaining order, then slides inevitably to chaos. I do not think you will escape the temptations of Hell so easily - but as the last card of the spread is the Juggler, who plays with fates, I'd say your journey will end with a return to the Fatebreaker. And moving from a harmful ruler to one who protects, ending again with the Fatebreaker - that is how you will win her heart."

He left the cards on the table for a few moments more, then nodded his head slightly. "That is all I see within these cards. Still, a most fascinating spread - three perfect lines, two of them in their rightful places - and if you draw the lines, they match the first letter of your name. I will be honest with you, Neverdemon - this is one of the most interesting spreads I have ever seen."

She nods. This was wonderful news!

"Well, that sounds... beautiful."

She smiles, broadly. "Hah! According to these things, I may get to see Azzy again, and shake his world up?! Nice!"

She giggles a little. "Yes, yes, of course I know that's not how it works." Her eyes shine with amusement and delight. "But, frankly, this is marvelous! If it works, I want you to do it to me again. If it doesn't, I also want you to do it to me... again."

She looks at him. "Your name, Sweetie? Or should I just consider you my own little piece of paradise?"

"And... what should I tell Marmael et. al.?"

The masked figure merely tipped his head slightly as he gathered the cards back into the deck, shuffled it a few times, and set it aside. "I may be a trickster crossing the cosmos, a dream while you slept, or a guide who appeared when you were in need. I am whoever you think I am, but as for what to tell the Fatebreaker..."

The world around you vanishes, replaced with the void. Seeming unfazed, the figure puts one hand by his waist and bows slightly. "I would suggest simply telling her 'I'm back'. The Juggler was the end of your spread, and the card furthest into the future - if that is the paradise you seek, chaos tempered by goodness, then you will find it... but only when you have done everything else that needs to be done. As your prize for the game, permit me to send you on your way. I dare say you'll find it quite... enlightening." The masked figure disappears, and moments later, you feel the sensation of falling.

For a few moments, there is nothing else - until the darkness peels away and a massive star appears in the distance. Circling it, visible even at this distance, is an enormous golden dragon... but it isn't looking your way, and your body begins accelerating faster and faster as you plummet through space and towards a world that has appeared below. The ground rushes up and, before you can even react, you strike it - and though there's no pain, there is a crater around where you landed. You're probably not dead... but you're definitely not any place you recognize, and there's no sense that you're anywhere in Elysium...

"I know you're watching. And I'm letting you know, I'm laying you. I don't know when. I don't know how. It might not even be physically possible. But it's happening. Just thought you should know." she says, breathlessly.

"So... keep me off balance, hope I learn some life lessons and morals, and maybe return to Hell again someday, before flipping fates. Sure, I'll have it."

She looks around, thrilled. "Don't fear for me, Featherheart." she prays aloud, "You'll be fine, and so will I."

She grins, looking around, trying to determine what, if anything, she can guess about this place, notice, or understand about its nature.

Knowledge (dungeoneering): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Knowledge (planes): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

At your best guess, you seem to be somewhere on the Material Plane... or at least a Material Plane... or something similar to it. Slowly, you stand up and look around. There are... trees. Okay, that's a start. They look normal and healthy. There is a river not too far away, and... ooh! A settlement! Those are always helpful, considering they imply the presence of people, and the figures you can see look normal enough. Three of them are headed your way, in fact, probably having seen you fall from the sky.

Yet there's something in the air that's still just... foreign.

She arrays herself for greeting folk, smiling winningly.

Charisma: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 4 + 2 = 14
Bluff: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 10 + 2 = 28
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 10 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 24
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

"Hello! Greetings!" she says, delightedly, as they approach.

She's still very much on her guard, however, just without looking like she's on her guard. They probably don't speak her language, or at least not what she thinks of as "Common", but they almost certainly can understand tone and inflection... and she wants to be as friendly as possible.

Initiative: 1d20 ⇒ 1

EDIT: by which, of course, I mean, she's not ready for them attacking her at all. :/

The three stop a short ways from you - two men and a stout-looking woman, who look with narrowed eyes for a few moments. One of the men eventually tips his head, though, and holds out a hand. "You all right?" he asks, his accent unknown but understandable. "That looked like a mighty long fall. You one of the Countess' friends?"

Incidentally, you probably shouldn't roll a bluff unless you WANT to be lying to people... XD

The bluff was to be on her guard... without looking like she was on her guard. You know... guard casual. ;P

"I could be!" she says, cheerily. "And it was, thanks! Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself..."

Oh, good! Fae (her most recent name) thinks, They're not automatically attacking.

"You tell me who the Countess is, who you are, and whether or not you like her or serve her or whatever, and then I'll tell you whether or not I'm her friend." she grins, winningly. Of course it's obvious, but she doesn't care. The people were currently being courteous to her - the least she could do was be courteous back.

The three of them burst out laughing - and it takes a few moments for them to settle down. "Not from here, then." the speaking man said, grinning widely. "You're just inside the lands of Countess Romalda. It's still humans around here, but you won't have to go far to find the Lady's friends. Fair warning, though..." he sobered slightly. "She takes the protection of her subjects very seriously. It's not worth causing trouble here. She doesn't see many visitors without appointments, so if you want to get in, you'll need to visit her Embassy in the Capital." A countess who had an embassy in her own nation's seat of power...? That... that wasn't normal, was it? An estate was normal enough, and practically expected, but an embassy...?

She blinks, politely, but obviously having no idea what they were talking about.

"How does that work, again?" she says. "What... she has an Embassy in the Capital of the nation of which she rules a portion?"

"I'm Fae, by the way. Who are you, if I may be so bold?"

She climbs to them, and greets them warmly with a careful touch, hug, shake, wave, or whatsoever seems like it might be appropriate for introductions - after a moment or two of trying to figure it out awkwardly.

EDIT:
She hesitates. "Oh, and, uh, does any of this have to do with the enormous dragon circling your sun?"

It turns out that a simple shake of the hand works best, and the man seems surprisingly patient as you work through it. "We're just a few locals, really. I'm Jeb, my brother Ben, an' one of our town's finest, Merith. The Embassy is..." they look at each other for a moment. "Well, she's been around awhile, but a lot of normal folk still aren't used to the Countess or her companions. Having a more formal place to talk things over and negotiate over issues seems to be working well, though."

"More... formal?" she asks.

"So... who or what is the Countess? What's so unusual about her?"

"Well, she's a vampire, yeah? Ain't much that's normal about that. At least, not outside of here." Jeb mused. "'Course, she's been a Countess longer'n any of us have been alive, and we ain't got much to complain about since she keeps things quiet. Not sure I'm brave enough to go to her manor myself, though... saw it from a distance, once. Creepy place."

Fae breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh! A vampire! Is that all! Whew, I thought she might be something creepy or evil." she continues grinning. "Well, that should be no problem then. Tell me, though, please, besides the vampire countess... are there any... other... 'weird' things going on around here? I mean, granted, yes, er, vampires... sure... are... creeeeeepyyyy... but, uh, I mean, is anything else unusual?" she asks, innocently enough (and isn't too subtle about the lack of worry about vampiric entities - I mean, they are, at their core, basically like qlippoth, after all, what with transforming into different states and preying on their own kind and whatnot).

"Hm. Actually, now that I think about it, that may be why he sent me here! Ooh! I'll have to check it out. Still, though, you've all been so nice to me... is there anything I can do to repay you? And maybe, while we're here, pay for some food, too? Breakfast is long gone by this point." she smiles, benevolently. I mean, she wasn't
planning on eating them after all - they weren't even mean!

The woman is the first to speak. "I was just making a big pot of stew, and another mouth won't hurt." she said, glaring at the men - and they quickly nodded. "Hospitality may not be big in other parts of the world, but we haven't forgotten it here." With that, she marches firmly towards the town, clearly expecting you to follow along. It's not a very long trip, and only about ten minutes or so after you get there, a steaming hot bowl of... meat and vegetables in liquid is placed in front of you. Boy, mortals eat some weird things, don't they? It is, however, quite packed with flavor...

"Meye 'rorve imt!" says Fae, quickly, feasting off of the soup, "Mfs iz scho dehlischuush!" mouth full, and stomach demanding. "Wah dto oo puth in ah?! Nahvah hog amafin' rleyekit!"

The woman merely puts her arms on her hips and looks down at you with all the wisdom and experience of a life-seasoned mother used to cooking for large crowds. It's... surprisingly imposing. "Don't talk with your mouth full or you won't get seconds." she said, waving her ladle threateningly. "A lady can't always have wealth, but she can have class regardless of her position in life."

Fae chews and swallows her food and delicately and demurely wipes her face clean. "I'm sorry!" she says, in a very daughterly fashion, then, more formally, "My apologies! I suppose sometimes I keep forgetting that I only having one mouth." she beams, thankful for such a nice lady. "I mean, it's so weird!" she crosses her eyes to look at her nose, and points to it. "I mean - look at this thing! What on <rwo'ful>, am I right? Only two little holes for breathing! Well, I suppose three, if you count the one mouth, but really, these bodies are weird. Sexy, sure." she says, touching and poking and checking herself - and (visually only), the lady, and men - out, and liking what she sees, "but really weird. I've no idea if I'll ever get used to being this way all the time."

She blinks, having gotten off-track. "Any-way, I do apologize, m'am! I'll try to have more class! Who is the instructor?" she asks, honestly trying to leave these nice folk at ease. She likes them, she decides, and thus will help them out.

The ladle comes down on your head. "Ladies shouldn't ogle others, either." Merith said... but she does give you another bowl of food a few moments later. "However, most people simply learn from their mothers, and yours ought to have done a better job. Manners are important for getting along as a family." Marmael would probably appreciate them, too... "Doubly so if you wish to be in the presence of anyone important. Presenting yourself well shows that you're serious, and that makes them far more likely to pay attention to you. There's enough troubles with the east right now..." she sighed and shook her head.

"The... east?" she asks. "That's the way the sun comes from! Well, it doesn't really, because, actually, it's the ground that's moving towa-" she stops herself, and looks back at the lady.

"Ah, yes, right, rambling. Sorry. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I didn't have a mother. Certainly none that I can remember, and I can remember a lot!" she mentions.

"But... what's wrong with the land? Is it being rude, too? I wonder what could cause a land to do that. Did someone plant the wrong crops on it and make it itch? What about the souls there - are they compatible?" she seeks to be genuinely helpful!

She goes back to snarfing her soup while the woman talks.

EDIT: for great justice! Also character

By now, all three of the humans are giving you odd looks - regardless of charm, you can only behave so strangely before people start questioning things. "It's not the land so much as what's on it." Jeb says, lifting his spoon slightly. "Prince Nathaniel's doing well against the demons, but even he can only be in one place at a time. The Countess and her friends are between us and that trouble, so it's not as bad as it could be, but things aren't settling down until that's taken care of." All three of them seem a little bothered by it, in the same way any group of peasants wants to be aware of situations that could affect them. Still, that's a long ways off and probably not something for you to get involved with... not yet, at least. You might charm an individual demon or two, but a whole group bent on war would likely tear you to pieces.

"Oh! There are demons. Hm..." she looks, sadly, down.

She shakes her head. "You're looking at me oddly. Did I do something with my hair wrong? Have something in my teeth? Anyway, whatever it is, I apologize. If you'd like, you can blame it on a lack of proper mother! Certainly, Ms. Merith, one suspects with someone like you guiding me, I could have grown up to be much more 'proper'!" she enthuses at the woman sincerely, despite still having little idea about what is and is not proper. It might be a lie, but only on technicality. Had Merith been equally potent (and having all the attended elements thereof, such as knowledge, skill, etc.) she quite possibly could have "raised" Fae to be "proper". Fae doesn't know!

"Still, now that I've received lessons from you, I do have a few questions: which class should I have? Who's the teacher - or mentor or professor or whatever? Was this it?"

She turns to the men. "I apologize for ogling you both and Ms. Merith, Mr. Jeb and Mr. Ben. It's just that you're all so pretty! And I thought your kind of creature liked feeling liked that way. I will endeavor to be more deceptive about my delight in the forms the three of you have." she nods, firmly. Hey, this "lawful" thing wasn't too hard after all! It could be really easy, in fact!

"Anyway, despite the unusual ingredients, the food was amazingly delicious! In return, is there anything I can ask the Countess for you? I mean, I can't guarantee results - who could, amirite - but I could at least ask for you!" she grins, winningly.

"Oh, gods no. The best thing to do with any noble is avoid attracting their attention." Merith said tartly. She seems to have forgiven you for your lapses in etiquette, so at least there's that. "If you really want to thank me, then do a good turn for someone else someday when you don't really need to. That will more than suffice."

She nods, slowly.

"Right. Oops. Breach in Proper. Sorry."

"Well... uh... can I stay the night with you, and go to the Embassy tomorrow, then? That's not a breach of Proper, right?"

You get a bit of a look - which, despite your newness to the realm, is fairly clear in its meaning: "No funny business". "Actually, I think you could make it there by this evening... but you are welcome to spend a night if you're still tired." she says. The men busily continue their meal, carefully avoiding any speech at all. They seem to know who's in charge here.

EDIT: Sorry, my son deleted my post and posted the letter "n" instead. Oops. This is the short, hastily re-written version. If it has strange elements to it, you'll know why.

"Oh, good! You got something like a hot bath that I can use? I still haven't washed the stink of the diabolist off. Creep. Imprisoning sweet celestials like that. Deserved what he got. ****, I haven't actually washed off since I died! Ugh! I must smell hideous. I'm so embarrassed. Hm... I'm reasonably certain that this kind of form can't take lava or acid, right? So, uh,
what do we use to give a nice burning sensation while removing unwanted detritus? Can I use one of those? Or should I go to the Embassy?"

If provided, she'd take a bath, and then probably head to the embassy. After all, vampires liked darkness, so...

In response to your question, Merith holds up what looks like a pot-scrubbing brush. What follows is one of the more interesting sensations you've experienced thus far, like fire being swept across your skin to get you appropriately clean. There's a fair bit of thrashing around involved - but by the time you're finished, you feel cleaner than you've ever been before. The fact that you were literally diving into the dirt of paradise may have had something to do with this - and you realize a moment after the dirty bathwater is poured away that it actually turned into holy water after coming into contact with that dirt. Oh well, too late now.

With that out of the way, you're given directions to the nations capital, and a few hours of walking brings you within sight of the city. It's... quite large. Standing outside the gate you pass through are four human guards, what looks like a walking tree, and some kind of animate statue - the guards actually look quite relaxed at the presence of monsters, and you're able to enter with no fuss. From there, getting directions is easy enough. The Embassy of Countess Romalda is a multi-story building, given an unusually wide berth by the buildings around it. As you enter, you see only one person inside. She's fairly cute - red hair, green eyes, frilly clothing. There's only one real problem... her head is on the desk.

Her head, completely disconnected from her body, is just sitting on the desk - and she raises one eyebrow before picking up her detached head and holding it in one hand. "The **** do you want? Negotiation hours are Ten to Noon and One to Four. If it's not an emergency, then **** off, because I've got a lot of ****ing paperwork to finish. And if you're just here to meet the freaks, then you better hope Tio gets back before Connie does."

The bath was glorious. As she walks away, she waives and smiles at Merith.

"Thank you this-world mommy-like figure Merith! Now I know how to be a mommy better (not that I can anymore), and a lady of the Proper! Avoid ogling yourself, Jeb, and Ben for me! And thank you for that delightfully exotic and delicous soup~! I've learned so much from you!" she calls as she walks backwards away from their place for a short time.

Eventually spinning around and leaving. She'd miss those folk. Oh well, being mortal they wouldn't have too much longer anyway. Too bad. So glad she doesn't have to have children anymore - giving them soup, whacking them on the head with ladles, and all that excessive scrubbing sounds suspiciously organized.

------------------

When she arrives at the Embassy, she does so with a smile. As the woman rants, her grin grows ever-wider, along with her eyes.

At her words, they shine. "That... sounds exciting, actually, if you're... actually open to the possibility." she replies to the girl's question.

"Also: wow! How great! Can you teach me how not to need my head attached, or is that just a special "you" trait?" she sucks in a deep breath, before she gushes.

"That's so amazing! You're beautiful! And being able to do that would provide so much flexibility and utility!" she says. "And here I was certain that all mortal forms positively required their heads to be attached to permit the flow of energy and information over a physical nervous system by minor impulse control across the-" she stops, blinks, and smacks her face. "Oh! Goodness me! I forgot! She'd scold me for sure: I should stick to the Proper around here!"

She grins, steps forward, and bows. "Hello, pretty lady whom I shan't ogle, despite your previous offer, cuteness, and extremely exciting personal ability. I am called Fae around here." she explains. "I'm here to be friends with the Countess - and possibly yourself, Tio, or Connie. I, myself, would be called a "freak" as I enjoy "freaking" with other creatures, though I am definitely not a demon - that's for sure!" she smiles.

"As someone was helpful to me earlier today, I, too, would like to be helpful to you, as well. I will hereby offer my services assisting you with the paperwork! How do you do that? Is it some form of origami? I'm not terribly skilled, but I can provide assistance, and am willing to learn!" she smiles earnestly.

"On the other hand, I can't help but notice the stitching on your hand. As a healer, I am fairly certain something that significant will leave a lovely scar - quite attractive, really - however, I am aware that some may feel self-conscious about such elements. As a tattoo artist, I could assist in hiding it in plain sight! If there is something you would like - a style or design of your preference - I could take some time preparing it with you, and then apply it."

"But, no, I am not here to ogle, because that is not the Proper! And, certainly, I follow the Proper around here!" she says cheerfully.

"... for now" she adds quietly, but loud enough so that, if she really wanted to, the headless girl could hear her.

Charisma: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 4 + 2 = 25
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 30 or +10+2+2+2

"Yeah, I'm not buying it, you f***ing broad." the decapitated girl said. "You wanna see the Countess? Then you give me a good reason to give you a letter of recommendation. She doesn't have the time to deal with every brain-scrambled b**** that wants to suck up to her, so yay, I get to vet people for her. And no, we don't accept bribes, monetary or otherwise. You got combat stuff or martial skills to offer, talk to Connie. You got goods to trade, you talk to me. I don't even want you breathing the same air as Tio. You have exactly five seconds to convince me, or you can get the f*** out of our Embassy, and I'll throw you out on your f***ing a** if I have to."

...

Not the softest tongue, this one, but she actually seems straightforward enough. Those who have reasons - actual reasons, with something of legitimate value - for being there seem like they'll be welcomed. Those who come across as fangirls, sweet-talkers, or political suck-ups simply aren't welcome. Everyone has their own standards, and you seem to be finding yourself face-to-face with the ideas of the locals...

"I like your language!" Fae says, honestly. "You're feisty. That's an exceedingly useful feature in your line of work, I'd imagine."

"So... I can drop the Proper with you? Oh, good, because it's really kind of annoying." she confides. "Very limiting. **** it."

"So: qualifications. Sure. Hm... well, I was recently run though a dangerous death-trap dungeon filled with predators and other unpleasant elements, before being chosen by no less than two extraplanar entities to resolve minor disputes - one over location, and another about soul-acquisition."

She taps her chin, thinking, a smile on her face. "Additionally, I have a limited number of convenient and useful spells. As mentioned, I, myself, am a tattoo artist, as well as a craftsman of various unpleasant devices by which the unwary may meet untimely ends... or just be annoyed or amused, depending (the latter makes for a great party)... and, if provided with the proper substances, I have the ability to create edible, magical instances by which a creature can gain various enhancements or other effects - I have two examples of similar substances, though they're not of my own creation - they can be purchased or left at your option, though I'm reasonably certain your Countess wouldn't be interested, if she is the vampire I've heard. I am proficient in eldritch matters - arcana and spellcraft - as well as dungeoneering and religion."

She sighs. "I'll be honest with you: I have no idea why I'm here. I was dropped from heights unknown from a realm beyond this one by a very exciting masked entity of unknown origin who read my so-called fate in his cards, made various vague assertions that I'd learn something here, and left me in a crater several hours that way." she gestures.

"I have little understanding about this world except that matronly figures believe strongly in the Proper (which, sadly, includes not ogling folk), have strong soup, and are clearly the ones in charge; a gold dragon flies very, very high above it (or something - I'm not entirely clear, and it happened really quickly); and there is a Countess that I was automatically presumed to be the Countess' friend. It sounded nice, and I have no where else to go."

She smiles. "Your repeated use of anatomical activity and references is very pleasant to my ear, and you are quite cute. My offer was not meant as a bribe - I was serious, if you desired to engage in such activities. I slept for so many years, so many eons, that entire civilizations of mortals seem to have passed, gods have changed, and I've lost most of myself. I figured, frankly, that someone who'd discovered a predatory form of immortality may well represent someone who understands what it's like. I don't know. Maybe I'll find some answers. Maybe she will."

She looks at the girl, pleasantly. "You say you don't 'buy' it - but there was nothing to ****in' buy. I wasn't selling anything. If I were, you would have bought it. I don't **** around, when I lie - I convince."

She shrugs, apologetically. "And... it should be noted... it's too late, I'm afraid. I've already breathed the same air as Tio. I keep doing it, too, alas. Your desires in that regard are impossible to satisfy... unless, of course, you bring me to your countess and she fixes my whole 'breathing' problem."

"Frankly, I don't know you. I do like you, despite yourself. I am very willing to **** off with you, if you'd like - sounds fun. I don't know your Countess, and, save for the fact that I heard she had a demon problem, was immortal, and a 'freak' - all things I can relate to - and was presumed to be her friend, I wouldn't really have cared. You have clearly gotten the wrong impression of me, Saccharine." she says, kindly.

"But, as you say, you're the one in charge." she laughs, amused. "I'll just hold on to the favor I owe someone until later, then."

"Look at me, appraise me honestly, and see that I'm not lying. **** me - literally, if you like - I'm not even exaggerating. I'm leaving out a few details, naturally, because they're unbelievable. If you don't believe me, though, you can check out the **** **** ****ing crater where I arrived, a few hours over that way, as previously mentioned." she smiles.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

"Oh, trust me, we can fix breathing problems. Like the fact that you're doing it in the first place." the tart-tongued girl said. "But no, I am not interested in f***ing you. More importantly, you look like a d*** novice to me. Quite frankly, if you're not world-class, then you have nothing to off... er..." she trailed off as the door opened behind you and a very pale woman in thick clothing walked in. Despite her apparent ease of movement and friendly demeanor, a chill runs through your body - she has no openings at all, and something about her seems almost primal.

"Ah, Della." the newcommer said, inclining her head slightly. "...A guest?"

"Just some bi- er, person who's probably totally delusional and still wants to meet the Countess." Della said, her tone significantly more subdued and polite. "I don't think she has anything to offer us that's worth taking. Not unless she gets a lot more experience, anyway."

Charisma: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 4 + 2 = 19Mythic: 1d6 ⇒ 4
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 9 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 32 or +10+2+2+2 Mythic: 1d6 ⇒ 3

"Oh! Her name is Della! Thank you, lady!" Fae nods in a bow.

"Della, here, may well be right about my need for experience. Frankly, I've been locked in a box for quite some time, and my skills have degraded quite a bit from their previous peak. She didn't believe me - of course, she also took no steps to verify or disprove said claims - but, frankly, I ended up in your world more or less by mistake. The only woman that seemed to be even remotely relatable anywhere that I'm aware of is your Countess, though, of course, I'd naturally prefer to be friends with any who are willing."

She shrugs. "Apparently, I need qualifications to see her. As stated previously to the lovely Della, I'm skilled at alchemy, trapmaking, tattoos; well-versed in arcana, spellcraft, religion, and dungeoneering; my weapons are not just for show; and I have the ability to craft consumable magical effects of various sorts... including those that would provide boosts of healing to one of your particular lady's persuasion; of note, I have the ability to do so for less cost than most. As previously cited, I've now undertaken missions - relatively minor though they may be - to settle the disputes of extraplanar powers - one of which is not minor - and succeeded at both. I've been placed here by a third power on what appears to be a quest for enlightenment. While your problems with demons certainly attracted me, as I was placed on this world a few hours ago, I've nowhere else to go, and little context to go by."

"In general, I'm quite odd myself, and hold many traits the locals do not look particularly favorably upon, yet simultaneously, I was able to make something of a report with them. This seems to be something of a trait shared - at least to some extent - by folk here. Hence, I was generally recommended to this place."

"Though a skilled liar and prevaricator, I am speaking truth. The location of my rather abrupt landing can be easily verified by a few hours walk that way - I found myself there after a masked man in an extradimensional room decided to place me there, making vague allusions to finding the place enlightening."

"Although not as accomplished as some - and I've forgotten far, far more in my long sleep - I am a minor linguist, being able to speak this tongue (called Common to my knowledge), -" she starts, listing in their native tongue,

"-Elven,-"

"-Abyssal,-"

"-Aklo,-"

"-and Celestial,-"

- then returning to the original language "-and am fascinated to know of your problem with demons - another trait I share, at least historically, though at present, depending on the creatures, I am unlikely to be a particular help in that regard."

She looks sadly at Della. "She seems to be offended by my presence, by my nature, and by my words - a sad thing, in my opinion, for they are true: I genuinely like her, find her fascinating and cute - as I find you elegant and lovely. She has an exquisite disregard for the Proper around here - something that is quite delightful. I am more than willing to undergo any reasonable tests to have my words proven - or to have me proven crazy, for, at least then, I'll have some interesting answers to lingering questions."

She bows, respectfully, "I should also give my apologies, lady: having become regretfully mortal of late, I am becoming tired, and relatively frail of flesh in some regards. Even if I would not be permitted to avail myself of your company, or the company of others here, I would appreciate - for one night at least - a place to settle and rest. As I have no method of attaining such on my own, at present, having no idea where the masked entity deposited me beyond "this land" that has a Countess with her own Embassy at the capital, and staving off demonic hordes; and it does seem to be the base of the local Proper to extend such hospitality, unless my recent lessons were errant in some regard. And please, I beg that you do forgive any linguistic or social breaches - I literally learned of this concept earlier today, after my landing."

She smiles, winningly.

The newcomer looks gently amused - though Della merely scowls and flips her head around before setting it back onto the desk. "I see." the lady said mildly - and you get the sense that she's carefully sizing you up. "Della is very loyal to both the Countess and myself, and she's had to deal with far too many individuals who only seek their own advantage without care for the world around them." she explained, calmly making her way over to the side of the room and placing a kettle above a small fire that sparked to life. "However..."

*Roll*

"Her story may be odd, but I do believe she thinks she's telling the truth." A few cups came out of the cupboard a moment later, and Della's mouth moved up and down a few times before settling into a sulky silence. "And if she was truly trying to convince us, she would have at least indicated her ability to speak Draconic. Sadly, dear, Della is right that you lack training. If you truly wish to contribute to our cause, the most we can offer you for now is a selection of smaller tasks to help you build your skills. On the bright side, however, you do have charm - and that, too, can be a most potent tool." With the water appropriately heated, she calmly poured it into the cups, and soon the smell of... was that leaves in water? begins to drift through the room.

"Fair enough for me! I just need a place to stay and figure out where the-" she stops, looking at Della, "-planar locale or other dimension, exactly, I am. Though lacking a few bits here or there of the full nomenclature, around here, at least, I am called Fae."

"As for Della, as I said - it is sad, though I understand. I can appreciate anyone as loyal as she for the over-all good of someone she loves. Very moving." She turns. "And, Della, please note that my previous offers - regardless of ought else - are still on the table, should you care to avail yourself of any of them. And I would be thoroughly interested in getting to know you, to the extent that you would be interested in the same."

Returning to the lady, she says, "I am quite tired and willing to hear your proposition, but, if I may, as someone both knowledgeable and unlikely to be offended, I do have a question: why do people keep putting things in things here? First there was all the meat and vegetables in that weird liquid - absolutely delicious, by the way -, and now you're placing leaves in hot water. What... why did this come about? I've been made aware previously that mortal forms like these require their food to be cooked, but... I've not seen a blending of substances like this beyond magical concoctions, and these are clearly not magical. Did this evolve from some sort of ancient magical traditions in another time?" she asks. "Again, if it comes off as odd, please forgive me - I have been locked in a small stone box for a very long time."

The refined lady simply smiled as Della sighed, and the brewed... drink... was placed onto the main countertop. She took one of the cups a moment later, inhaling the aroma and visibly relaxing. Della, on the other hand, looked like she was visibly struggling to keep from bursting into a stream of profanity. "You're in the Dees System, presided over by Lord Rexdees, the Golden Dragon Emperor. Of course, he rarely travels anywhere beyond Ryuan - that's our second world - and we're mostly left to ourselves out here. For food, we do it because it tastes better that way. As for lodging..." she glanced out the doors. "There are many inns within the city. The Embassy only offers rest to monsters, which you clearly are not." Her hair moves back and forth slightly, and after a moment, you realize there are small ears there.

"I beg your pardon, madame, but you are entirely incorrect!" huffs Fae, visibly hurt!

"I most certainly am a monster, and I'll thank you to rescind your inelegant comment! It is cruel and impolite!"

Rolling up her sleeve and bearing her arm for witness, Fae pulls out one of her arrows, and swiftly cuts a single lash into her own arm. Blood - eerily black blood (or at least blood that contains eerie black fluid) - flows from the cut a little.
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2

"I presume - and forgive me if I err - that you know a bit about magic?" she asks. "Please witness, and take note of the method of my healing."

INFLICT Light Wounds: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

The wound heals itself cleanly and nicely.

She looks evenly at the others. "I pray that is sufficient evidence for you, and that you do not enforce the release of my other aspect, I beg, for proof. She has less... impulse control... than I."

H'ecks-pha-czu'whaugh unconsciously to Abyssal. "Beyond that, my age is beyond mortal reckoning and my origin is neither counted by ages, nor understood by those who have not lived it. I was present at the origin of the rough beast, and I was ancient before the first stars were formed. I was nameless until blessed by the oinodaemon himself, and I-"

Coming out of a minor trance, Fae, blinks and takes a half-stumbling step away, shaking her head. She breathes, deeply, and releases. "... and I am now a mortal." she rubs her face with her hands, and runs one through her hair.

"I... apologize. She... she has fewer inhibitions than I."

She breathes, then smiles, cheerfully. "But... at least now I have a name for that lovely gold dragon I saw on the way down!" she reaches over and, testing the temperature and blowing to cool it a bit, carefully breathes, then drinks... whatever it was.

"Oh! Bitter! How delightful!" she exclaims, hoping it was in fact a drink, and not a repeat of that awful dinglehopper incident with that one summoner. Ugh.

Part of her felt like dying: H'ecks-pha-czu'whaugh was being both inconsiderate and potentially causing a problem again. But whatever, at least she'd shown she could be a monster.

You barely even see either of your companions move - one moment they're enjoying tea, and the next the lady is pressing the top of Della's body into the table with one hand and holding Della's detached head in the other, covering her mouth and still seeming perfectly at ease. "Calmly, now." she said firmly, looking back to you a moment later. "We have... issues... with those related to the infernal realms, especially after they attacked a number of our citizens." Della's body snatched her head free and put it back down on the table as she scowled.

"It's all well and good for you, but I don't trust this black-blooded b****. She'll be a bad influence on everyone else."

"That's not for you to decide." the other said a bit tartly. "Besides, whatever her origins, she doesn't have the sense of evil. She may not be entirely good, either, but the same could be said of many in our family." She slowly walks around you, and as she does, her form shifts - in mere moments, you find yourself facing a massive tiger. As her walk continues, her form moves back, becoming humanoid once more - though how exactly those clothes melded into her body is a question nobody seems to have the answer to. "However, I would disagree with your assessment of being monstrous, Fae. One such as you could still live well within a normal society. Myself, Della, the Countess... we face other challenges."

"You... really think I could? I... cannot... stand... the Proper![b]" she says, pacing. "[b]You've no idea! I love them to death - not literally, that's not my thing anymore... well, okay, except for that one guy, but he'd sold his soul and was imprisoning and harming celestials... and okay, depending on who it was, maybe, if they really deserved it, but that's not the point!" she explains, poorly.

She begins pacing, agitation growing.

"Everyone - everyone - looks at me like I'm weird. It's because I am. I'm freakish! Hot, gorgeous, but freakish! I only have two little holes for olfactory organs. TWO LITTLE HOLES!" she calls, gesturing to her nose, pointed up to show them how weird it was. "Who... what... lives like this?! It's sexy, yes, but... arg! Where is my <ruaf'lklid>? Can you tell me that?! Why did that have to go away?! I liked it!" she paces, frustrated.

"And people do this whole mixing thing with their food! And it's always dead! No one has ever heard of <a:lsker'ops> or phnt'agans or labba-labbas - in Axis the only guy who'd ever hear of any of them was a dweeb! No one eats sin, and I'm told eating souls us just not done... and how would I anyway?! I don't even have a <i'elwisth> anymore! Not even an <i'elwisth>! How you things live without one of those?!"

She looks at the other woman. "And you say I can blend in just because I can look like them? What about you?! You're gorgeous! If I had less control I'd be all over you like I wanted Marmael on me! I... like... them! Do you understand?! They're adorable little mortals! ... and I couldn't stand to be around them for too long! I'd go crazy! Or crazier, or whatever!" she holds her head briefly, heavily breathing, eyes wide.

Then, suddenly calm, she stands straight, walks over and picks up her tea. She stares off into the distance, and sips, quietly, thoughtfully, reflecting on... what just happened.

"I came here to harm none and with no agency of my own." she says, suddenly still. "The masked man said that this was 'my way' and that I'd find it 'enlightening' - shortly after predicting that I wouldn't get back home until I was 'done' - that I wouldn't see... wouldn't... see... Marmael... again... until I was 'done' and had reacquired my godhood."

She looks around, sipping.

"'You have a tendency to slide into depravity'" she quotes, "'when confronted with any type of order,'" she glances at the two of them, "'regardless of whether or not it is appropriate.'" she finishes.

She smiles, sadly. "That's what he said. And it's very true. That's me." she gestures. "Inappropriate. Everywhere. With everyone."

She finishes her tea.

"Thank you for your time. I can see now, that I'm too monstrous even for this place and your people. I was incorrect to presume that I'd find similar folk here." she nods, bowing low.

"As she indicated that you were not fond of money, this is for your time." she places the two flawed rubies on the desk. "I apologize for their state: the man I acquired them from - to all indications, a different world entirely - had badly mishandled the place he resided in."

"May I ask: can you please tell me where I might go? Who might keep me until I find this enlightenment? I have a little in the way of funds, though I could presumably find a job somewhere."

The lady simply flicked the rubies back to you, declining the payment. "I speak of a different type of monstrousness. For many people, all that matters is the surface, regardless of who someone is inside... and we welcome any who want to change that perception and show that who a person is - not what - is the thing that matters most. However, if you truly wish for enlightenment..." Her mouth twitched slightly. "Come back tomorrow. I think I can convince a friend to come meet with you. I dare say you'll find it an... interesting... experience." Della still looks a bit upset - but at the other lady's words, she quietly nods. This seems to be a very important issue for them.