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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Dec 28, 2023 13:09:42 GMT -5
This is becoming tiresome, Azazel. You say you're performing some master strategy for your schemes to have far-reaching effects on this world, but all we've been doing is hero work for the mortals. They're not going to accept a demon, no matter how famous. I've no illusions about that, Arteron. I certainly don't need the validation of mortals to forge onward, but you must admit, for as much as our vessel allows us to interact with the world in new ways, it limits our reach. We must remedy this before we can began effective plots. So you say... Why do I attempt to explain grand strategy to an imbecile? Just be glad you get to kill playthings on this mission, and leave the work of thinking to me.Azazel rubbed the mortal vessel's temples in exasperation: an exceedingly human gesture. It was undeniable that incarnation, bound alongside a wrath demon, was subtly changing his outlook and mannerisms. He still had his goals of dominion, however, so quirks of the unconscious could take secondary priority to the path to his aspirations. The current mission was an increasingly common one: go and punish criminals for theft. For as banal as it was, it served a dual purpose of furthering the manipulation demon's ambitions as well as quelling his subservient partner's bloodlust, an urge that became annoyingly consuming if left unchecked. Azazel preferred to do these sorts of missions alone: restraining Arteron to maintain his good name was such a chore. Surely, a quest here in the armpit of the world, issued by lowly backwater mortals would not attract any other attention. For good measure, Azazel ripped the flyer explaining the job down and mentally prepared himself for the slog through the swamp. Quest Name: Skip With Me
Participants: Two or more
Location: Marsh Flats
Post Requirements: 5 posts per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: The Marsh Flats have continued to suffer under the wrath of the Mud Worms, the gang quickly gaining more and more control of the region. Recently, they have begun to steal and hoard Bogskippers, valuing their usefulness for navigating the swamps. It is believed that with an army of Bogskippers, they can outfit their gang and become more of a problem. Lilicors is asking for help in freeing and retrieving the Bogskippers, returning them back to their owners. You are asked to find a Mud Worm camp and free any Bogskippers they may be holding there, dispatching of any the members who may try to stop you.
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Post by Hadassah on Dec 28, 2023 16:09:32 GMT -5
Hadassah grumbled to herself as she marched not-so-calmly along. She tried to keep her frustration to herself whenever she crossed paths with someone else, but even when she snapped her muttering lips shut, the redness around her cheeks and heat in her nose gave her internal struggle away. After a long few days of self-practice, she tried to remain positive despite the apparent lack of improvement. She tried to follow the instruction of her trainer, to give herself grace, but after today's practice, she'd finally had enough and stormed off, unsure of where she wanted to end up, her hands shaking with the effort and anger, as if she had failed to fix something broken.
She felt ashamed, not just that she felt she hadn't improved, but ashamed that she might have let herself become dependent to the point that training on her own felt pointless. She figured she might need a break or a change of scenery before she would try again. This was part of her goal to become stronger and to learn, unfortunately, but she was frustrated despite understanding that failure was part of the process. I can do this on my own, I can focus. I need to figure this out, Sylvi won't always be around to help, I need to get better, I need-
She continued to grumble to herself until the sight of a man tearing an odd-looking poster caught her attention. By the way he massaged his temples, he seemed somewhat stressed himself, Hadassah thought. “Excuse me, sir,” she said as she approached, her tone becoming kind and quiet. She hoped that if she could be of help to someone, it would be the start of an opportunity, or at the very least, a distraction from her disappointment. “Is everything alright? Is there anything you need help with?”
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Dec 28, 2023 16:39:21 GMT -5
Oh no, Azazel. You promised I wouldn't have to hold back this time. Don't even think about inviting this girl along. The manipulation demon sent a cold chill through the vessel's head, enough that he was sure his subservient would feel his dsipleasure. In truth, he hadn't been inclined to humor this mortal, but Arteron's defiance was a challenge he would need to quash harshly. Arteronael. You forget yourself. I am dominant, and I will do whatever I damn well please. Remember your place, churl, and thank whatever warped god will hear your prayers that I do nothing worse for this insubordination.
The demon caused his vessel to smile brightly at the girl, glittering green eyes taking in her form. The mortal before him was quite pretty by their standards: loose dark hair bound up into a messy bun framed refined, slightly rounded, features. Her body was toned from physical training. Her dark eyes matched his green ones, earnest in their desire to help, to be of use. Such pure intentions made Azazel want to throw up, but he was committed to this course of action, to show Arteron his proper place, if nothing else. The demon's smile grew only wider as he took her in.
"So kind of you to ask, my dear. I was thinking of taking this job dispatching bandits and returning animals to their owners. I'm not certain if that sort of thing is to your liking. You'd get to beat up criminals, but you'd have to deal with me and the swamp. Not an even trade, I'd say." Azazel's charming smile was as dazzling as the sun above as his eyes watched hers with interest.
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Post by Hadassah on Dec 28, 2023 17:29:51 GMT -5
Hadassah mimicked the bright smile of the rather handsome man standing before her. As he spoke in response to her offer of help, she found herself staring at the green of his eyes, feeling both drawn in and repelled by them for a reason she couldn't express. Hadassah appreciated them nevertheless as the stranger looked at her. After what felt like a long moment, Hadassah realized regretfully that she was most likely making too much unnecessary eye contact, and with a few sudden blinks, she shifted her gaze to the poster the man had torn down. In doing so, she'd unintentionally seen some the strange man's powerful muscle, which she saw as a sign of hard work and was impressed more than anything. Perhaps I can learn some things from him, she thought, among other things, which she quickly pushed deep, deep down in her mind.
“Well, I know we've only just met, but you don't seem that troublesome to me. And as for the swamp, I’m sure I can handle it. I'd be happy to help, and I frankly don't have anywhere to be at the moment.” Hadassah cleared her throat, returning her gaze to meet that of the stranger, her anger quickly becoming a distant memory. “I'm Hadassah by the way.”
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Dec 28, 2023 17:42:20 GMT -5
Poor little mortal. If only she knew how much of a pain in the ass you are. You're on her side now, Arteron? I didn't know mortal girls batting eyelashes were your weakness. I'll file that away for the future. The wrath demon growled in exasperation as Azazel won their verbal spar, as was always the case. His bemusement at Arteron's lack of response endeared this mortal girl to him in a way she could never have done on her own.
"I can only pray I don't disappoint such flattering faith, my dear." The demon gave a light, infectious laugh, feeling cheerier about the prospect of this mission for the girl's company. "My name is Azazel, but you can call me whatever you'd like. It takes a rare breed of person to speak so confidently and earnestly: an impressive sort of person. I look forward to working with you, Hadassah.
"Well, if we're truly to journey into the swamp, we must prepare ourselves well for its dangers." At his words, the demon commanded his clothing to shift from its normal, comfortable looseness to an outfit fit for braving the bog: military style boots, tucked in pants, and a form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt that still managed to accentuate his body [Morph Suit]. "I'd advise that you do that same... unless you wish for me to carry you, my dear." Danger glinted in Azazel's orbs of green as his smile stretched ever wider.
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Post by Hadassah on Dec 29, 2023 10:37:33 GMT -5
Hadassah grinned as Azazel laughed cheerfully, the sound making her heart flutter within her chest. She could only hope she wasn’t making a grave mistake by offering her help. She made a mental note to herself to keep her guard up, at least until she felt she could fully trust him. It’s just one quest, I might not even see him again after this.
“Well, thank you Azazel, I appreciate that. I look forward to working with you as well.” Hadassah thought Azazel was an interesting name, and certainly one she hadn’t heard before. She wondered if his name meant anything, but she refrained from asking so soon. Perhaps she would ask at a later time if she thought of it again, and felt it was appropriate.
Hadassah tilted her head curiously as she watched the man before her change clothing in an instant, her eyes blinking in confusion as she tried to process the magic she’d just witnessed. Hadassah sucked her teeth as she looked down at her red battle gown, which had grown dirty at the hem over the past few days. Though it was convenient to move around in, she recognized that it may not be the best for trudging through swampland. “I don’t need you to carry me,” Hadassah said softly, her cheeks becoming warm at the thought. “But I don’t think I can do…that either. If you don’t mind stopping at a market, I’m sure I can at least find something more suitable for my feet.”
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Dec 29, 2023 11:23:52 GMT -5
Azazel laughed, seeing Hadassah's reaction, enjoying the blush on the mortal's cheeks. "In this backwater? You'll be lucky if you don't find the only shoe options being woven fish nets and burlap: definitely not fit for a lady." The demon made a show of tapping his chin, as if in thought, despite knowing exactly what he would do. Snapping his fingers and smiling, Azazel reached across the vast expanse of space into his home to procure some footwear from his personal collection, a relatively routine task for one as privy to the weave of the world as he [Summon: Possession].
He did this several more times, procuring all manner of outdoorswear to select from: from the purely practical to the eminently stylish. Notably, his collection included styles and fabrics from all over the world, giving Hadassah a trove of selections to choose from. Azazel smiled charmingly at the mortal.
"If we were in my home city, I wouldn't stop until we'd exhausted every desire to find clothing worthy of you, but this smattering should be a passable substitute until such time that I invite you to my home." The dangerous glint was in Azazel's eyes again, alluring and terrifying all at once.
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Post by Hadassah on Dec 29, 2023 17:07:41 GMT -5
Hadassah mumbled under her breath, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Of course that wouldn’t be an option. Look around, you’ve wandered away and now expect the land to just tailor to your needs, Hadassah sighed before reminding her inner voice to be kind to herself. She would figure out a way through the swamp, or else perhaps the gods did not see her fit to be on this particular quest after all. She raised an eyebrow as Azazel tapped his chin in thought, wondering if he was brewing an idea better than hiking away to a market or destroying her gown. Maybe he can do this interesting magic on other people?
“What is this exactly?” Hadassah finally opened up as the footwear suddenly began to appear from some unknown place. “How do you do…this?” Hadassah could not formulate the words properly and instead gestured suddenly toward Azazel’s outfit, then the options presented to her.
Hadassah shook her head, keeping her eyes purposely on a pair of appropriate boots to avoid making eye contact with Azazel in her lingering embarrassment. “And where exactly is your home?” She asked, no longer feeling worried about offending him.
Hadassah cleared her throat as she grabbed the boots she’d been eyeing, ignoring the fact that she could feel the man’s eyes on her. “These should be fine. A pair of pants would be nice as well, if you don’t mind, not too heavy.”
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Dec 29, 2023 18:38:01 GMT -5
Azazel's smile deepened as Hadassah selected a pair of proffered boots, quickly summoning a pair of matching pants for the lady. He held them across his outstretched arms and smiled impishly. "To compliment your eyes, dear lady."
Azazel began walking away, leaving the scattered clothing lying where it was. Even if it was to be taken, he could summon it back to himself whenever he had the whim. In truth, his wardrobe was just meant for situations like this one: his own clothing was subject to his whims. The demon glanced over his shoulder back to the girl with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression.
"People are too tied to the way things are..." at his words, Azazel changed his physical features: his messy brown hair becoming short and straight, salt and pepper in color, a refined, trimmed beard stretching over his face, and his physical stature shrinking down to a more typical height [Astral Soul, One With the Cosmos]. "Those who have eyes to see, can view the world in what might be." To punctuate his statement, Azazel shifted his form and clothing [Morph Suit] several more times: becoming a refined noble woman, a burly highwayman, a young street urchin, and a girl very similar in appearance to Hadassah herself, before changing back to his normal form.
"Changing the world to one's whims is an exercise of will. Simply have your desire for change be greater than the object's tendency towards constancy, and you can begin to truly master your environment."
Azazel conjured a fashionable, but practical leather coat [Summon: Possession] and draped it over Hadassah's shoulders as he whispered, "As for your other question... I'd rather show you my home, when this little job is done. Simple tellings won't do it justice."
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Post by Hadassah on Dec 31, 2023 17:56:32 GMT -5
“Thank you very much,” Hadassah said softly as she took the matching pants, a small smile on her lips. She appreciated the man’s attention to fashion, even if it didn’t particularly matter for the purposes of the task ahead. As quickly and efficiently as possible, Hadassah stepped into the pants, tugging them under the skirt of her dress before moving on to the boots. The style felt somewhat unusual, but at least she felt comfortable and the outfit was mostly practical anyway, she figured. Either way I’m not taking any clothes off here. This will just have to do. As Azazel began walking away, Hadassah fell into step behind him, glancing back at the garments left on the ground. It was clear to her that Azazel didn’t care about them, probably because he’d just summoned them all out of thin air.
As Azazel spoke and began to change his appearances as a demonstration, Hadassah's eyes widened, her brow furrowing with a mixture of horror and wonder. “I think I understand what you’re saying, but I can’t say that I’m grasping the concept very well,” she started, her thoughts filling up with questions as she tried to gain a better understanding. “How could I see the world as it might be? How can my will be greater than what simply is? Were you born with these gifts, or did you learn them?”
Hadassah scoffed as Azazel draped the coat over her bare shoulders, her smile growing at the kind gesture. The man seemed secretive about his home, but Hadassah couldn’t tell if that was because he had something to hide or because, like her, he might not trust her enough yet to share such information. “Well then, I very much look forward to seeing it.”
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Jan 1, 2024 13:30:14 GMT -5
The demon paused briefly at the girl's question. Ugh, mortals can't see the magical ley lines that connected the fabric of the world together. How am I supposed to explain such things to her? You'd have an easier time describing color to a man born blind. This is your endeavor, Azazel. Even I don't understand half of your bullshit.
"I've given an admittedly shortened version of what takes time to master. If you have genuine interest, I will do my best to unfold the mysteries of the world for you, but for now, suffice my short lesson as an explanation of my abilities. For now, we've got criminals to bring to justice, eh?"
Azazel marched forward, towards the mire of the bog, hiding his eminent disgust at the thought of soiling his clothes with the grime. Considering the sleaze ball you are, you should be right at home in the swamp. Moral dirtiness is quite detached from physical dirtiness, Arteron. We've the vessel to think about and grime is a conduit for all sorts of diseases for him to fall prey to.
Upon hearing Hadassah's conclusion about visiting his home, the demon smiled wide and offered a hand to assist the girl over a deep patch of mud onto the next rock. "It's a date, my dear." He punctuated his statement with a cheeky wink.
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Post by Hadassah on Jan 2, 2024 8:21:02 GMT -5
Hadassah nodded a bit, her shoulders slouching ever-so-slightly at the thought of waiting for further explanation. Of course, she understood that there was work to be done at this time and she could only imagine how much time it would take for her to grasp such mysteries. Even so, she couldn’t help but show her mild disappointment as her thirst for knowledge lingered. As they continued toward the swamp, Hadassah slid her arms through the sleeves of the coat and sighed softly at the immediate comfort and protection from the environment. It was at least comforting to know that these weren’t her clothes she would be ruining at the end of the day.
“Why, thank you.” Hadassah couldn’t help but grin as she took Azazel’s hand and stepped gracefully onto the rock ahead of her. A date, she repeated in her head. She knew what the word meant, and had heard it in the conversation of other people, but she’d never heard it while being addressed. Something about it made her stomach hurt, but in a good way. Stay focused. This man is still a stranger, don’t get distracted.
“So these bandits we’re looking for,” She started again. “Do we know anything about them? How do we know where to find them?”
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Jan 2, 2024 11:39:51 GMT -5
Azazel sighed, continuing to lead the way through the treacherous swamp by way of fallen branches and stones to limit the interaction the pair had with the filth of this place. The demon raised an eyebrow at his companion's question. In truth, he had very little knowledge about the thugs they were sent to slay, the creatures to rescue, or even a desire to learn about either. They were beneath his notice, and only engaged with now because they served a greater purpose.
Still, Azazel had assumed the role of a man of eminent knowledge, so it wouldn't do to give a shrug or a brush-off answer to the girl. No, to keep her eating out of the palm of his hand, he would need to keep exceeding her expectations.
"I imagine their base of operations couldn't be very far away from Lilicors, given the frequency with which they've raided. It's every hell in a handbasket trying to coordinate even a small force through this mire for any protracted distance, so we've only to make sweeping passes around the perimeter of the village to locate them.
"As far as them specifically, I couldn't say. Charon is unfortunately full of small-time gangs of thugs. New ones seem to pop up every odd month. No vision: it's truly distasteful. I imagine they won't be anything extraordinary: a tiny predator preying on the even tinier prey of this sequestered village. But not to worry, dear. If you are overwhelmed, just rely on me." Another cheeky grin appeared on the demon's face as he looked back at the girl.
His good mood would not last, however, as it seemed the only way forward was to get waist-deep in the mud to slog across to the next landing. Of course, the demon had the option of teleporting, but that would leave the mortal stranded, and, given the amount of effort he had put into endearing himself to her, he was hesitate to chance it on a juvenile matter.
"No way across but through, it seems. I'll see if I can't procure some type of bridge for you. No reason for both of us to get dirty."
The demon waded into the muck, suppressing his bile as the mud stained his clothing. It didn't take all that long to find his quarry, a massive fallen log that could be used to bridge the gap. Setting his sights on the wood, Azazel prepared himself. Even his massive strength [Bull's Strength] would not be enough to transport such a mass, stuck in the mud as it was, so he channeled more of his demonic power into the vessel's arms [Fiend, Abyssal Infusion]. Arteron would have been able to do it without this shortcut, but there was no chance the wrath demon would help him with anything but combat today.
Even bolstered beyond what mortals could hope to achieve, it still took several seconds of protracted adjusting to find proper handholds to lift the damn thing, as the mire seemed to pull back against him. The demon would not be denied, however, and with a final mighty heave, he hefted the entire log from its resting place, putting it over his shoulder as he hurried back. Thankfully, the vestiges of his demonic power were enough to quicken the vessel's step, as each pace threatened to bury him in the soft ground for the great weight he carried. Azazel placed the tree for Hadassah to cross and smiled as he motioned across it. He dared not speak as his breath burned in his lungs, but he refused to show any type of effort exerted for his feat of strength.
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Post by Hadassah on Jan 9, 2024 15:31:37 GMT -5
With her nose wrinkled in disgust at the mirky swamp, Hadassah continued to follow closely behind Azazel, navigating not-so-gracefully around stones and branches and mud. She took a deep breath as her boots grew heavier as more and more mud stuck to them with each step. In truth, if it weren’t for the boots and pants which protected her own clothes and skin, she would have quickly regretted trying to be helpful. She could only hope her companion was leading them in the right direction, and if he wasn’t, she prayed that they wouldn’t be wading through the swamp forever.
Hadassah nodded along as Azazel spoke, his explanation sparking her hope to get out of the swamp sooner rather than later. As the man grinned at her, Hadassah smiled innocently in response. She thought it might be quite funny if she pretended to be overwhelmed and let him do all of the work. Maybe this is the break I need. Hadassah’s lips twitched as she held back a snicker, quickly covering it up with a question. “Oh good! It shouldn’t take long to find them then. What is your plan when we eventually find them? Just so we’re on the same page, of course.”
Hadassah raised her eyebrows as she watched Azazel trudge through the deep mud toward a fallen log. What does he plan to do with that? She thought, watching curiously as he gripped the log. There’s not way he’s going to pick that up on his own. “I really don’t mind getting dirty you know, I’ve got these lovely pants on for a reason.”
Hadassah blinked rapidly in disbelief, her mouth slightly agape at the sight of Azazel carrying the giant log over his shoulder. She couldn’t tell if she felt more protected or more in danger travelling with someone so strong. Particularly someone she didn't yet know very well. Either way, she was admittedly impressed, and thankfully clean above the knee. “Thank you, my good sir,” she said, hurrying across the log with perfect balance and light steps.
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Jan 9, 2024 16:42:07 GMT -5
Luckily, thanks to Arteron's relentless conditioning of the vessel, it only took a few moments for Azazel to fully regulate his breathing before hopping up onto the boulder that Hadassah stood upon. His interest was piqued as he saw her lips quirked into a mischievous smile, but the demon left it alone. He could peel back the layers of her mind, if he so desired, as easily as a skilled chef might with an onion, but a bit of mystery did much to spice up the doldrums of life, especially when mortal's secrets were so frequently banal and dull.
His face did drop from its normal confident smirk as he considered the upcoming combat: a perfect opportunity for Azazel's subservient wrath demon to ruin any curried goodwill from invested effort in the girl. Preliminary damage control was needed, as well as a hint of truth, if he wished to preserve her impression through the duration of their mission. Azazel stopped dead in his tracks as he leveled a serious look at Hadassah, his voice low and dire as he spoke.
"Listen, dear, I don't want you to be alarmed when we get to the camp. I am..." Azazel trailed off, words failing him now as only very rarely in the eons of his existence. It was the first time before Hadassah he truly seemed at a loss for words. It was embarrassing and more than a little infuriating for a demon of words and persuasion to have his tongue fail him so, but even this would be turned to his benefit.
Azazel really drummed up the impression of him being nervous and guilty, wringing his hands before running quivering fingers through his hair. "I'm not the same person in combat as I am regularly. You might call it a curse, an ailment, an infirmity..." Azazel paused working his mind to drown out the string of curses and protests from Arteron as he spoke before continuing. "What I mean to say is that I lose the greater part of my gentility and become little more than a slavering beast. I wouldn't want to you to continue forward without knowing this. I'm certain you can take care of yourself, but the things I will do... I just pray that it won't cause you to think less of me."
The demon's vessel reached out halfway to Hadassah before retreating his hand and turning abruptly to continue down the path to the encampment. His sudden exit was strategic as much as it was dramatic. It wouldn't do for the façade of a troubled heart he was playing it for the girl to see the grin of unholy satisfaction on Azazel's face as he reveled in turning his disadvantage to a method for endearment.
You're a real blanqshaq1, Azazel. I don't begrudge you for showering the vessel in disemboweled entrails after your killing sprees, even when I have to scrub for hours to be clean again, Arteronael. You will abide my whims without another word.
The wrath demon shied away from the mention of his true name, unwilling to challenge Azazel again. Quickly, he fashioned the vessel's face back to one of brooding worry as Hadassah caught up with him. The demon could smell cookfires just up ahead. Time to see how well my gamble paid off.
1. An abyssal curse for being detestable and dishonorable
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