Search Posts
Curiously unable to meditate with the shrieking and the slamming, Asmodia sighs and moves out to the hallway again. The utility of being able to make her own scrolls becomes incredibly attractive now, of all moments, considering if anyone was to point out a hidden door to the attic, it would not be her exceptionally poor eyesight. Then again, according to the tales, a party of common folk were able to find the entrance.
Must not have been that memorable. ZING!! ... you know she'll be crawling back, then see your dog and go into her PTSD mode :P *giggles* Anyway, I should see if she left any spell slots free to pray, which is totally what she meant.
Whisper, Celestial:
"Don't hurry on my account, darling." Asmodia rolls her eyes and glances back at the occupants of the dining room. A few minutes... it would take half that time to get out of her armor... She counts the minutes on her hands, her gauntlet fists making the gesture more inane. "GRARGH!" Asmodia grumbles. "If you'll excuse me, I'll find a room with a mirror and finish myself off while looking at the only person who gives a f*ck."
Everyone loves bloodless... No one loves me! *runs off crying* Oh, hello mister bottle. you never leave me... :P *squeak squeak*
was about to say Asmodia's dad is a disgraced noble who nutted into a servant and didn't kick her down the stairs. that earned him his exile in the s+*$ hole that is galt and a silly, shallow wife he could nut in for good. Asmodia was really his salvation to get back to Cheliax if she had stayed in school and learned to conjure little devils instead of celestial dogs and stuff. Trying to be less emo, but everyone is making beasts with multiple backs and every suggestion i throw out IC is never discussed, we just kinda move on. anyway, husband's surgery in a few minutes now. check back this evening.
As Delour the beached sea creature is pounced upon by ruddy males, Asmodia is all the more relieved that she did not happen to take any more than a few bites of any of the courses, and only lifted her wineglass to her lips, else she might have projectile vomited on the beast with a half dozen flabby backs. As a cleric, she feels compelled to watch the display until her nausea threatens to overwhelm her sense, and the distinct scent and taste of vomit bubbles in the back of her throat. Perception DC 25, Celestial:
"Never be clean, never be clean, never be clean..." With the host devolved into madness, Asmodia gathers several bottles of wine and stuffs them into her pack, wrestling with a drugged fool pawing unsuccessfully at her chainmail. Even if she had her father's inclination to cultivate seed with the help, she could not, not here of all places. None too comedically, her inexperience with the heavier armor causes her to trip on the couple in the doorway, and she grumbles as her armor crashes about like angry kitchen maids chattering about the mistress's diet. Infernal:
"Gods damn you!" Asmodia does not look at the Shade when she speaks, preferring to look at the floor near his boot. She is none too happy to see Bloodless pawed at ravenously by some drunken whore, but she can get drunk and scrub her filthy skin on her own time. "Mirror or attic?" she inquires of the others when they join. "I'd sooner be limited to jumping out a window and maybe breaking my legs, which I can cure, to meeting a fiend in our host's sex dungeon."
I do have the last post in the RP thread. I was suggesting someone get busy in the mansion of love so those of us without stealth modifiers can sneak about banging pots and pans over our heads. OH WAIT! That's a bad idea!! *laughs* Why does no one else have ideas?
Asmodia licks her lips and shrugs at Bejis's question. "I'd prefer none were looking at us at all. If that means me settin' here doing what I do best," she pauses and tugs at her chainmail, "which, you might understand has been quite the feat of will not to indulge and forsake us." She raises a mailed hand, frowns at it, and strikes plated fingertip against her cheek as she considers their options. "Given that the majority of our peers are in a highly suggestible state, perhaps we could induce some manner of activity that will allow us to search more freely? A game of follow Drovalid's clothing as he attempts to sink his divinely inspired meat in the fetid corpse representing Chelaxian virtues, perhaps?" she suggests and grins broadly.
I meant Calesinica's infamous no roll groin shot to thesing.
Wait... awh... that would be awesome, really. Tark DMing when he's high. Calesinica will suddenly be able to sucker punch Asmodia in the mouth for 1d3+8d6 damage for sneak attack and improved vital strike, and never have to roll an attack, just like with Thesing. Bring. It. On.
Asmodia slinks up to Crosael, recalling from her former life, before seeing dogs let loose on freedom loving folk, that servants of houses were most often their eyes and ears. And if the Mayor was mad, or... had a harem of hot, loose women in his attic in need of liberating, it was likely that the elder woman would know something... or not at all. Would that Asmodia was proficient in reading the intentions of another. "Mistress," Asmodia says and offers the woman a fresh cup of alcohol. "I thought I might bend your ear, if I may. I know that a woman in your position is of far greater value than most would allow. Might you illuminate this poor cyclops's stunted perspective concerning our most... illustrious host?"
I get a very Coast to Coast AM vibe in the latest updates for the rebels group. Gobbos, gobbos everywhere! And ghosts, man, and lizard men taking over that radio tower over there off the interstate!
Asmodia's eyebrows raise briefly. If Bloodless's warning about goblins had not spoke enough of the man's madness, the fact that he did not seem to be aware that Cheliax was no longer an empire was slightly more disturbing. She wonders if he recalls that Aroden is dead and that the costume she wears is a mockery, or if he is even familiar with what play he wished to see performed. Asmodia's eyes scan the crowd for a puppeteer but she finds none but the same sad peacocks who have been preening all night. Still, it seems improbable that this creature could rule...
No joy, Tark. Not allowed. *drums fingers on table* Where is that Cuban aunt when we need her!
Asmodia tucks her helm beneath her arm and tugs at the chain mail obscuring her feminine shape as she approaches the lord Mayor. "You've a lovely home, milord, and I dare say I have seen copies of a number of these works in Isarn," Asmodia purrs suggestively . "The rabble there, of course, would not appreciate the luxury you have treated us to today. Are you very well traveled, milord?"
Apologies to rebels group. My head has been in a hormone induced funk since Saturday. Will surface tomorrow morning sometime and do something... suitably chaotic.
Jesus Christ, Tark. Is your aunt my Mother in Law?
Asmodia's jaw nearly drops at Chammady's report. "Not... interested... in passion?" she manages. She flushes and shakes her head. "What is this city coming to when such a beautiful woman forsakes something so basic?" Asmodia gratefully accepts the out and assumes a seat near Bejis for the next part of the feast. Bejis, Perception DC 25: "I am fairly certain that the tall drink of ginger is the most dangerous element in this room beside her escort. I cannot discern if she is a physical or a magical threat, but if you'll have me, I'll cleave close to you til she leaves."
Asmodia catches Chammady's appraising eye, and cannot help but feel... concerned. The woman is attractive, too be sure, and likely discrete should Asmodia be sapphic, which curiously is a thought she is not drunk enough to entertain, but Chammady and her beautiful escort strike her more as unequal opportunity predators than lovers. The woman could succeed where she had utterly failed in Galt, and by the nine hells, in the church of Asmodeus as well. Still, having no appetite, the hallucination of Chammady wearing boots or tiny underthings made from Asmodia's skin does not rankle so much that she does not take the opportunity to slide close to the female again. "It appears that I have dried again," she begins with a smile. "And so I find myself compelled to return to your side, and that of your handsome prince," she bends her head to the Winterish male, "else I fear I will begin to rust. Tell me lady, which of my companions interests you most so that I might sacrifice their heart on an altar to our passion?"
Asmodia narrows her eyes at Bloodless's change of topic. "Clearly I am outmatched in terms of wit," she says, and rises. "The punchline is that Thesing raped me. Enjoy your meal." Asmodia leaves what remains of her meal, and her wine at the table, and goes to the fireplace.
"Is there something amiss with the vintage?" Asmodia inquires, crooking a red eyebrow. If Bloodless's comment was meant to insult her, she has little concern about the quip. Asmodia lifts her own goblet and smells the contents. "What a terrible shame it would be if someone were to set out vinegar instead of wine at this table," she teases back with a smile. "One draws more adoring fans with honey mead than with refuse, it is said."
Asmodia looks passed Oberigo to Bloodless. "Aah, would that those bastards had not raided my stores! I had many fine stories of women trading passionate embraces in close quarters, illustrated even," she hums, thinking of the tiefling porn she failed to snag back from the silent Abadarian. "But I should think you would be far more interested that the Bastards of Erberus did not simply coast along their protected lives bribing Dottari. Else..." Asmodia quirks her eyebrow and allows a faint smile in Bloodless's direction, "I might sing a much different tune of a particularly ill matched priest who fears dogs."
Not wishing to be outdone by her former... humbug*cough*, and unwilling to open hostilities between herself and the Shade, Asmodia seats herself near the incredibly interesting Eirtein Oberigo. She lays her hand on his arm and tells him bawdy jokes, cursing her new chainmail for its oppression of her figure. She must have counted upon it as an advantage, because even to herself her manners seem a bit... off putting. Certainly she is glad she did not attempt to approach the behemoth Delour or the dangerous Winterish fellow again.
I think if Calseinica manages to survive the play in the nobles game she's going to turn into an alcoholic. Or Charlie Sheen. One of the two. If Asmodia was CN that b*tch would have been dead first time she acted up in the play. Maybe in her downward slide, she'll get to that point. And it will be glorious. I'm thinking something like the penetration scene from Kill Bill. :P
Shade: "Be assured, when I discerned your talents I decided that it would be best if we had nothing to do with each other outside the league. That is a resolution I have no intention of breaking."
Asmodia finds the woman's cackling to be annoying, and wishes that Bloodless, pressing whatever advantage, would hurry. whisper in Celestial "I am, dear Bloodless, most aware of your methods, but I would gladly throw coin in your face tomorrow if you stuff that woman's at this moment. Otherwise, might I suggest some manner of gag?" Asmodia leans out over the balcony and attempts to identify any relations of note besides Aerieth pressing beyond her advantage and being rebuked.
whisper "Shade, I wish for you to know that I might be convinced to be apathetic, but I cannot be ignorant of Chammady's escort. Do give my love to yours."
With less than three days to go until I see my husband again after six months and being the procrastinator I am, I'm unlikely to get anything of quality up before I leave. Brain just isn't in the right place. Assume Asmodia is scoping out the cute brunette if he makes himself available, or his date's boobs or something, and that she's actively trying to be more agreeable to the party at dinner but still exercising and encouraging caution even with the Message spell going.
Asmodia's eyes traveled back and forth between Shade and the gorgeous brunette, and she had the sinking feeling that she was being used as a platform for some personal vendetta of the brunettes, and that was just... rude. Calseinica is oblivious. There is a shock... Asmodia rises and wanders about the house where she is welcome. She attempts to go up a flight of stairs, making certain to be obvious about looking about herself to see if anyone is watching her, as though expecting someone to slap her hand for even attempting the escape.
Every time I see Alistair Duphrane has posted in this thread I think of Mitch Hedberg and make myself sad. "Duphrane, search party of six. You can eat when you have found the Harris's."
HAHAHAHAHA! Only if you would be the emo pirate, Shifty, would I agree to that. You definitely can't have Evan Stone's spot. Coz then I'd have to picture the scrotadactyl.
Asmodia hums through the spell, considering Bejis's advance. Laughing like a lunatic seems out of character, though she had to assume that some of her fellow guests might be aware that they were in contact through magic. But then, sitting there whispering to herself over her plate probably was just as strange. As well as the utter silence as she ponders her response. "I have heard it said that our senior, Master Thesing has taken ill and cannot join us tonight," she begins in a voice that will carry. "Mistress Delour, and Calsenica," she raises her mostly full glass, "a toast to the finest gems in all of Westcrown. And of course, the lovely Sh-Larazod," she corrects herself after a brief flub, "and Master Robhal for directing our success!"
I have no problem with Bejis getting naked, too. Let's see that kiss again, while we're at it! *giggles* I'm a terrible terrible person. And I should post something IC.
Hey, Asmodia hasn't done full nudity yet. Bloodless, get on that, STAT!!
Actually, Asmodia is the perfect woman. She f*cks on command and can summon a frosty brew from nothing right after. No need for a keg! :P I don't think they have unions in Westcrown. Unless you count the Dottari... Tark, can I roll my diplomacy to find out who I should talk to about breaking into the whoring business? Would solve Asmodia's homeless issue as well if she could get into a brothel, or should she just go roomies with her favorite half-elven calistrian?
I can take Profession Courtesan next level and we can establish a price list. Since everyone seems to think she's a whore for sleeping with Bloodless and Thesing, and kissing a cowardly actress, and wanting to buy a pit fighter to meet her sexual needs, and flirting with women and men at the same time...
Are you guys refering to Asmodia's charms? Just because she may call you a c*nt behind your back, and her favorite adverb is f*cking, it doesn't mean she's a liberal potty mouth :P
Asmodia's lip curls at the observation about the food, and the mayor, but her eye practically twitches when Aerieth opines about Asmodeus in a house dedicated to proselytizing his message. Point of fact, Asmodeus does allow fools, being a god associated with tricking mortals into contracts damning their souls, but though a glaring omission, Asmodia has no particular drive to correct her companion. Whisper "Might we find a more appropriate subject to discuss over dinner?" she inquires. "For instance, I enjoy desserts more than the main course, but not quite as much as rum." Asmodia's green eyes flick to the dangerous woman and her lithe companion. Whisper "I think I might have amused the Chammady woman, but I do not believe it prudent to press any fictious advantage at this juncture. Criticisms?"
Hahahaha! Should I be casting diagnose disease on myself? I got a pretty good fort save, and figure you would have asked by now if I caught something ungainly. Decompressing from the super pissed, slowly but surely.
Hey Tark. I just wanna say that I really love your game. My online game turned into the GM railroad shoving the great american challenge up our group's collective @ss today, and basically split the group because of a cutscene where the bad guy got the items we were hoarding from our stupid party member, then slaughtered a king without ever calling for initiative or allowing us to act at all. And you let Asmodia be retarded and have a temper, and that's cool. And aside from some miscommunications, you let me pretty much have free reign with her, and man... I'm just so... glad someone else out there can DM well. Salute to you, Tark.
I'm looking forward to flirting with pirates. They'll need clerics when the fire in their pee starts :P
I'll avenge you Brother/cousin/relation!! just need to find my sunglasses...
Wait, what? GM's sadistic laughter is never good. I'm scared now. Can you at least narrow it to the group so that we all aren't anxious?
"What can I say?" Asmodia sighs, eyes flashing mischief. "I make my most favorable impressions when wet," she purrs before conceding the point to the predatory brunette and taking her leave. Asmodia seats herself where she has a vantage to Aerieth at the very least, so the woman can lay her spells and keep within communication. She takes nibbles from each dish, unable to divorce herself from the guilt and shame of not wanting to consume a bite when children in Westcrown are starving.
Asmodia's Tybain, radiating an aura of courage and very nearly strong good, cannot be missed as she moves with exceptional grace in her new chainmail, despite her lithe frame neither burdened by the weight or slowed beyond a normal human. She peaks about the party holding a glass of wine at the stem, but rarely drinks. The liquor apparently is decorating her arm rather than an escort, having flown stag for several nights now, however, the lovely Chammady Drovenge and her exceptionally attractive date capture her attention. If she gets a moment where she can speak to the woman, she pays her the extraordinary compliment of admiring her legs, décolletage and general splendor before speaking. "It's unlikely we'll ever meet again, but I simply must know the name of your tailor's competitor," she jests and laughs.
man, i loved Razor Ramon as a kid. and the bushwhackers. I also watched American Gladiators, too... *strokes chin* Asmodia needs a Randy Savage so she can be Miss Elizabeth... coz sequin halter dresses are hawt :P
|
