The Early Lizard Gets The Worm

The Early Lizard Gets The Worm
Date of Scene:	14 December 2013
Location:	Hollow Bastion - Castle
Synopsis:	Rakassa ambushes Queegmaa as punishment for his failure, with a hideous, gargantuan worm. Going into hyper-drive, he manages to defeat it by way of a preemptive, electrical interception. After the skirmish is done, he chides Rakassa, while also criticizing several other Shadow Lords who he'd felt had been failures in regards to multiple aspects of their approach towards exerting intellectual supremacy over the protagonists of the world. Finally, the vile troll and the admiral come to a compromise, and they conspire against some of Rakassa's fellow coworkers.... for it can be said indeed, that there is no honor among thieves or murderers!
Cast of Characters:	Queegmaa, Rakassa

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Rakassa has posed:
Rakassa, or 'Olivia' as she might be better known here, is quite simply waiting upon her cowardly charge. He's useful. More useful than she'd admit to the little wretch. And to a degree, his cowardice is useful. But as it stands, he's simply /to/ cowardly. He needs to be able to stand and fight when he must, rather than shrink away like he did last time.

And so, she's called upon her magic as she waits in the large, open room. It very much resembles a ballroom, but far too empty to be actively used as such. Magic permeates the air; something dark, and foul. And it's not just the bulky form of Rakassa's true form either.

Queegmaa has posed:
Queegmaa has been summoned by his liege once more, and though he doesn't like visiting the Hollow Bastion, that usually meant he was going to have to undergo some kind of trial for him to prove his worth. The chances were, that he'd achieve victory, and receive a temporary boost in confidence from his triumph, to the effect of believing himself powerful, and competent.... alas, though, for seldom did his spikes in self-esteem last for long, and the odds were that in subsequent battles, he'd relapse, regressing back into his abominably timid state. Rakassa had seen it many times before. She helps him build up, enough so that he could perform well in one or two battles, then his internal strength would wane, such that he'd regain his normal vices, ultimately leading him to elect retreat in a truly violent scuffle. It wasn't incredibly useful for her to bolster Queegmaa's morale, since it was quite transient in nature, but usually, she could milk a handful of decent sieges out of the runt after, and at a low cost to herself.

Usually it just meant spending one afternoon, or evening watching Que duke it out with some expendable beast, and often it was a monster that'd become far too unruly to keep, thereby warranting its euthanizing, anyway. There were risks, because at times Queegmaa's boldness would reach heights where he would start to cast doubts on Rakassa's capacity to defeat him, if they were to engage each other, except that she would quickly rob him of his will to challenge her, by reminding him ever so kindly that she had the ability to detonate him for disobedience. Rakassa, in her own way, also possessed some cowardice, for she knew that while she was a Shadow Lord with expertise beyond most mortals, she was not invincible, and even with better odds of winning than losing, a battle between herself and a cybernetically-enhanced demon such as Que was still a bit of a toss-up. Rakassa did not like to have to pay the piper, as a hedonist who lusted for everything in sight.... she wanted her way at any cost, and if it meant sometimes effectively 'pulling rank', by threatening to pull the switch to make Queegmaa explode, causing him to back down, resuming his subservient role as her faithful, mistreated underling.

The only real difference between the two, in some senses, were that Rakassa believed in herself, and Queegmaa had little faith in his own abilities-- were they to ever level out, she knew she'd be in danger; harboring the power of instant-death over him was her one real trump card. They do say, that where there is a will, there is a way; this kept in mind, Que perceived his will as weaker than Rakassa's, so he always had to give way. So it was he entered the chamber, beholding Olivia, and groaning, "I hope dis in one o' yer 'tests' datcha gon' puhtt me thruh. Ya got a lot o' more yusful folk dat you cud send ta da front-lines dan me!" His statement was ever more proof that he was doubtful of himself.... for when he mustered up his courage, he could surpass even Vohstras, but the fact of the matter was.... Rakassa wasn't grooming Queegmaa to be a Shadow Lord, not only because he'd be too dangerous for her to control, but also due in part to knowing it would take decades of real psychological progress to bring the imp up to speed; Vohstras had /near/ mastery in skill, and could unleash his 'potential' all day long, because he already had confidence.... whereas Queegmaa could feasibly eclipse this fellow, at the expense of both an obscene amount of time, resources, and in the process, becoming more a liability than an asset. One cannot create a war-machine of true power /AND/ intelligence, without having to contend with the possibility that it would turn into Skynet.

Rakassa has posed:
Crack! Rakassa cracks a whip in the air, the sound echoing off of the strangely humming room's walls. The whip, suspicously tentacle-like, retreats back into her robed sleeves with an oddly organic squelching sound. It's never a good idea to ask what's beneath those robes, in this form of hers.

"Shut it! I don't care if you're a simple coward. But a spineless little amphibian? Not happening! You're /USELESS/ without a damn spine! Even groveling little insects need to be able to serve on the front lines when it comes that time. And it /will/ come when Vector's on the warfront. You know that. I know that. Now let's make you into something that's above a squirming worm."

She knows well his tendencies. All too well. Today, she's not just going to challenge him physically. She snaps her fingers...and immediately dark portals to a corner of the room. With just enough room for her, purple wards flash into existance. Even Rakassa shivers as the darkness in the room bleeds together.

The creature that emerges shifts, and writhes over itself; inky blackness, looking far too worm like slithering over itself like a dozen snakes coiled together. Dripping red mouthes squirm, bumping against Rakassa's ward hungrily. Whatever this /thing/ is, it's hungry.

Worst of all, it's malevolence seems to batter at one's mind. The hungry feeling in the air may well be apparent to Queegma; it hungers for the body, soul, and one's inner-most demons. A creature of consumption, personification of Gluttony. It simply /has/ to be put down. Otherwise, Que may well cease to exist.

Queegmaa has posed:
The kappa trembles as the segmented monster appears, giving off the sort of sensation that suggests it can never be satiated, no matter what it's fed. It will show no mercy, and Rakassa is well aware of the fact that the beast was on the verge of rebelling, hence, why she needed to have it dispatched, before it developed too much of a willpower to be manipulated. It had grown large, swollen with power derived from its many absorptions of other entities smaller, and weaker than itself, to the point that it was at the maximum level it could've reached, biologically speaking. Queegmaa backed away from the monster and narrowed his eyes, barking, "Ya cud get Vohstras tuh take dis ding down in a snap!" Which wasn't quite true, because this thing the Shadow Lord had summoned was nearly a match for herself, and the icy Mtek was certainly not Rakassa's peer! Queegmaa had the 'potential' to be, if he ever attained self-actualization, but those were very rare occureances, however.... she knew how to 'activate' his 'on' switch, every bit as much as she was aware of how to turn him off. But it was in these moments that brought about the troll's adrenaline that he could conjure up the courage he needed to dispense with his fear, exchanging it for that pulsating rage kept dormant the majority of the time.

A blue-ish hue faintly outlined his body as he shook with anger, as though feeling betrayed by his master, for having had the segmented slitherer of unreasonable, and possibly 'lethal' formidability charged with the task of harming, or slaying Que! He was now exposed to the moment of truth, once more.... when one's inner fires came out-- often, most never know how tall they might stand until they are called to rise. Standing tall for long periods of time was tiring, on the other hand, which is why the imp often shrunk back to his piteous, contracted, fetal position after ascending to grandiosity, unlike Vohstras, who always stood tall, albeit standing with a stature that would not quite rival Rakassa's /truly/ most perilous creation-- Queegmaa. Everyone and everything had pros and cons.

Que's was that it took a lot of work to tap into his real magnitude if only to exploit it for short intervals. The fact was, Rakassa knew very well that one day, even one as lowly would become too strong to manipulate, and so, his days were numbered, in her mind. She didn't want to spit him out, but the most delectably flavored gum is still a toxin to be anything but chewed, for if it is swallowed, it can damage one, or kill one, if they ingested a high quantity of it. Queegmaa's potency could become too much to handle, and he'd have to be put down, like this worm, someday, and he suspected that he was on borrowed time..... But then, why did he not self-destruct while in Rakassa's presence, with his 'Exploder' spell, that if taken to the absolute limitations, could take her with him to the afterlife? This was simple.... He was a coward! Beyond that, mayhap death wasn't inevitable, if he could discover some way to thwart her /without/ having to sacrifice himself in the process! The nature of the two fiends, the troll and his master, were somewhat predictable; they were both so selfish that they were willing to take a gamble to grasp for two birds in the tree, while discarding the -guarantee- of one bird in the hand! So it was that they would play chess against each other for as long as they both could cling to the mortal coil, but in the end, which one was the light side, and which was the dark? Whatever the case, it was now Queegmaa's move, and he took out his tanto-blade, which he faintly chucked upwards like a miniature juggle, grasping the blade-portion with one hand in a singular swift motion, enabling him to hurl the thing at the coiled leviathan as quickly as possible.

This wouldn't've been astronomically damaging to a worm, of all things, which, if severed, could continue to prosper, if given ample chronometers. No... this was to see how thick its skin was.... and being as calculating as Queegmaa was, a deviously creative reason was behind it; he knew that his cybernetic augmentations would doubtlessly penetrate the hide completely, which meant that if he could subsequently retrieve his knife, he could take a quick measurement of how deeply it dug. It is a very uncommon day indeed, where Queegmaa will throw away a weapon that he might need, but this is what he considered to be.... delayed gratification!

Rakassa has posed:
"I could. But this isn't about him. This is about you...a little groveling insect who is about as worth-while as /this/ abomination. The one that lives, gets to /not/ get destroyed. Live or die, little worms. Live or die."

Rakassa leans back, grinning as she watches it all unfold.

The tanto is thrown, and it indeed buries into the creature's flesh. It sinks in, sticks, and seems to just sit there in it with relatively little damage done. The scary part is when the worm that was hit rises up, wiggles, and the knife begins to slide through its flesh. The worm seemingly melts away into goop, weapon now stuck in slickened coils. That damaged worm then starts to solidify, before wriggling around again. With a screech that seems to echo across more than one plane of reality, the creature surges forth to towards the only edible thing in the room right now; Queegma, it's many mouthes and suckers flailing about.

Queegmaa has posed:
Queegmaa nodded his head when Rakassa claims that Queegmaa is an insect, and that she could have simply gotten Vohstras to do the job. However, he doesn't take warmly to her remark about how he's barely worth anything, which, in his angry state, gives him courage that typically would've been considered highly uncharacteristic for the kappa. As such, he activates his cybernetic implants, running one of the programs built into his system. "An' ya know what? Yer prattlin' is worth even less dan the buzz of an insect.... so I dun wanna hear't!" Immediately, he conjures up one of his bizarro abilities that allows him to contrive a 'field' around different targets, which as a result, can either lower their mystical abilities, or mute them utterly, so that they couldn't speak.

If he chose to prevent speech, then he couldn't prevent the target from using magic, but if he muzzled them verbally, that wouldn't necessarily deprive them of their talents for making noise using their vocal chords. Deciding to go all-out, in his revved up condition, he was able to crank up the juice on his mechanisms to full power, against which his 'master' would likely have little recourse.... It wasn't fully without chance of failure, since Rakassa might've actually had to move her tush to avoid it, but since she looked rather comfortable, Que suspected she wasn't mentally anticipating that she'd have to leap into action, not counting for the 'type' of power output being applied; as he used artificial magic via Mtek technology, instead of 'true' magic, she wasn't equipped to nullify his enchantments as she might've done an incoming spell of a more formal nature. This was the one real advantage he had over her- at the same time, because he had artificial magic, at that current point, her incantations would've been hard to block if Queegmaa was on the receiving end....

But she'd purposely built him that way, so that in a combat situations, provided she could actually get him to fight, Rakassa could employ a 'pincer' attack from two sides, so that if her enemy was resistant to normal magic, then Que would step in and do his thing. Rakassa /could/ undo the field after it was put in place, however, that would require an Esuna of some sort, which Que suspected she did not have.... which would've meant she'd have been forced into quiescence until such time the troll deemed her worthy of speaking! Hit or miss, Queegmaa winces as the wirey demon lunges, having taken his physical weapon out of the playing field, and leapt upwards, clinging to the ceiling as his metallic talons embedded themselves into the upper corner of the room, making use of the vertical walls to offer a fraction of additional gravitational support that he couldn't get from just attaching to the ceiling. The imp managed to evade the attack, but he didn't have enough moments to disgrace Rakassa concurrently to impairing the worm in some fashion..... This was still tactically sound, since demoralizing types of sound such as Rakassa's diatribes were likely to stymie his full potential; beyond that, he was still enraged, so he was going to vent at anything and /everything/ that assaulted him, no matter the media involved.

Rakassa has posed:
Finding herself silent, Rakassa merely leans back. Smirking, seemingly amused, she contents herself with watching the battle. Time to judge to see if her little toy is worthy!

The worms don't give up, even as Que leaps up to the ceiling. With wet squelching sounds, the creature(s) begin to quite simply crawl up the walls, leaving trails of acidic ooze in their wake. It's as easy as walking for the odd mass, though it'll take some time for it to traverse the wall to get to Que. For the moment, he's safe; but he better start an offense soon! Rakassa laughs soundlessly. This isn't a creature that could be ran away from.

Queegmaa has posed:
Queegmaa is quite satisfied with his ability to shut the Shadow Lord up, but not quite as satisfied with the fact that he still has a worms on his tail; if he perished, then his master would be back to talking in no time, but Queegmaa would still be dead. But Queegmaa was a smarter breed than most, even if his actual power-level was still yet to realized, which meant that he knew something of mollusks, and similar kingdoms of animilia. Worms, snails, and slugs in particular, were covered with mucous membranes which helped them slip, courtesy of having weaker muscles than more solidly-built animals composed of sinew, that could afford to have dry surfaces on their body.

No, the worms did not have a problem climbing walls /yet/, but this would be likely to change, in the near future, if Que had any say in the matter; the one family of magic in which he excelled was poison, as well as water, which were either innate to him being an aquatic devil, or else unnaturally gifted as per Rakassa's trickery with that toxic Magicite! Snarling, Queegmaa lashes his tongue out in a wild, aggressive fashion.... a tongue that was easily a foot and a half in length, like that of a lizard-- yes, folks, this lizard could cast spells without having to use arms or legs, hands, or feet; he had another prehensible appendage that wasn't clinging to the walls, which could do the deed with the utmost efficiency.

A downpour of Acid-Rain hails from above, on the other hand, the cascade is primarily aimed at the walls themselves, instead of the worms.... the chances were, the corrosive chemicals that touched the worms would eat away at them in a way that would 'burn' them, and prevent regeneration, at least in the immediate moment, but more importantly was if one accounted for the walls being 'coated' in a substance that would 'dissolve' the mucous membranes which allowed the worms the adhesive they needed to move freely. Que couldn't target the entire room, nor did he want to spend so much mana attacking areas where the worms weren't yet originating from, but for the time being, the beasts were essentially trying to climb, what, for a human, would be a completely acute, ninety-degree angle, with grease that /burned/, when it made contact with 'flesh'.

Rakassa has posed:
The worms are not happy about this turn of events. They start to slide off of the wall as they burn, the excess acid quickly halting their ability to get at the food that's stuck in a coner. They're not without intelligence, however, and soon back off. Writhing and squelching, several worm 'heads' lean upwards. Magical power gathers.

A spike of pure darkness lashes out at Queegma, swift and snarp with malevolence! Hit or miss, it'll embed into the wall with enough force to send cracks thoughout the wall away form the impact.

Queegmaa has posed:
Worms and Heartless were both not without any brainpower; they were both smart enough to make distinctions between what could be preyed upon, and what were effectively useless objects, such as rocks, burlap, and plastic. They were autonomous, which meant they didn't need to be given commands manually every single time they were expected to do something, for they could survive independently of a host, or a master, which was the case with parasites and machines. Now, here was something new! Worms that shot out darkness!

Queegmaa grunted as he could barely maneuever in his little nook, which meant that he had to drop a few feet lower when they projected shadowy streams of force in his direction, to avoid the brunt of the flurry. Some did get him, but part of the onslaught missed by just a paltry margin, which meant that hiding wasn't an option; they had long-range weapons at their discretion! The walls break up a little bit, and Queegmaa remarks to his matron, "Ya dang ful! Mal's gun make ya pay fer dat sh*t.... dat's vand'lism if I's ever saw't!" But it probably wouldn't ruin the budget too much, since Rakassa could always suction and redirect funds from the empire and the Hollow Bastion alike, depending on what official appeals she issued. It was a poor attempt to get her to regret her decision to send the worms at him, but Que had hoped to dishearten her just a smidgen. Opening his mouth wide, exposing deadly incisors, the water-troll takes note of the beasts that were not only moist to start with, but who had just been rained upon further by his deluge of drizzling.

With that, he thrusts his tongue out from his mouth, which seems to have enough might behind it to pierce the wall and function as yet another limb, which results in freeing up one of the hands that was suspending his cumbersome weight. Suddenly, the bionic hand juts forward, sending all manner of electrical voltage throughout the area, in a massive web of branching, twirling wires, and of such intensity that its sizeable nature meant that it would've run the risk of even striking Rakassa from her distant location; this was the equivalent of a Thundaja, spread-out a bit, weakening it a little, as far as striking individual victims.... but still enough to electrocute anything that was comprised of hydrogen; intelligently, Queegmaa, being very damp by default, keeps his hand as outstretched as much as possible, to prevent any of the wirey bolts from backfiring, and then being conducted through himself....

Rakassa has posed:
Luckily, Rakassa has all of that figured into her budget. Namely, the 'training Damages' fund. She knows how to prepare!

Lighting, or at least the electricity that Queegma lashes out with, crashes into the flailing beast. Covered in water now, it's quite effective, and the creature lets out a screech that causes the barriers between world to shiver for a moment. Truly, whatever this thing is, it's an utter abomination. Its entire body rears up again, drawing in dark magic. A sphere begins to form, floating, as the creature starts to power up for something...

Queegmaa has posed:
The monstrosity still lived after Que's combustive discharge of lightning that could've scarcely been rivaled by many-- thanks in part to Rakassa's instructions to the engineers to do the designing, to her own specifications. You make your bed, and you sleep in it. Queegmaa had only one way to take care of the creature, and that was to beat it to the punch; so he began to do some charging up, on his own. His machinery was efficient, and well-designed, so that his accretion of energy could probably bypass the worm's just a touch. It would be a close-call, and the kappa would not have an instant with which to spare, because the window of opportunity for proper timing would've been down to the miliseconds, practically. Nonetheless, he was going to gamble.... such was the nature of wrath-- when pushed to the limits, it became 'all or nothing', and didn't compromise at all, unlike the other sinful habits that often still held out 'hope' that one could save themselves in the process of doing what needed to be done.

No.... When enough anger overwhelms one, they lose interest in their own welfare, and consent to their own demise, so long as their adversary, their object of loathing, is taken with them to the pits of Hades! Already, Queegmaa is weaving about, trying to avoid the worm's heading, so that it has to keep refocusing if it plans to blast him. On the other hand, whatever Que has in mind, it must be gravely serious, for he removes the silencing field that'd been placed around Rakassa, to devote all his charging power into his mechanical veins. No doubt, the ozone could be felt arising, as the ionic polarity began to disperse, and separate in a very dramatic, antipodal way.

This would not be good for anyone. Not for Que, not for the worm, and not for Rakassa.

Rakassa has posed:
As the shield goes down, Rakassa laughs. "Try not to kill yourself~ It'd be a shame to waste what use you have. Oh, and /this/ damage is coming out of your paycheck." The woman isn't dumb enough to stick around. She'll return and pick through the wreckage later. A Dark Portal sweeps her away into another room, /far/ away.

The worm's own blast grows and grows, evil malevolence seething! It lets loose, a beam of dark energy sweeping towards Queegma!

Queegmaa has posed:
Before Rakassa can depart, Queegmaa shouts, "YA FILDY HUR! DIS'S YER DOIN', 'N YER GON PAY'T ALL!" but whether it came from him or not, the bottom line remained the same, the Shadow Lord showed that she was more concerned with her own skin than bearing witness to the living manifestation of pure hatred....

The lustful one has many desires that keeps her tied to the life that she desired to keep, whereas Que had resigned himself to either killing, or being killed while killing in the process.... But death was the only thing on his mind, and he didn't care how much it would tax him, or anyone else, for the unprecedented degree of craving for vengeance had over-ridden almost all of his sensibilities. Yes.... since Rakassa had just fled, Queegmaa could have probably made for the door he entered, and fled, but this was no longer about surviving, this was only about his thirst for the destruction of anything that he despised, whether the worm, Rakassa, or himself! Conveniently enough, Rakassa would not be on the receiving end, because even she wasn't psychotic enough to stick around when absolute ruination was about to transpire.

Finally, the output levels caused Queegmaa's circuitry to start to overload, as his metallic parts colvused, while his jagged fangs chattered from the degree of pulsating energy emanating from him. Smoke began to pump through his vents at a ridiculous rate, and some of his external scaffolding covering his robotic innards began to come loose from the tremors that encompassed his being. An unforeseeable maelstrom of a voltaic genre spewed forth as Queegmaa immitated 'Iron Man', filling the entire chamber with zigzagging power, which would consume all within, even.... himself.... but mayhap to a lesser degree than the monster the troll was in the process of fighting. Something akin to what a tier of lightning above Thundaja, perhaps a Thundaza(?) was surrendered from both arms, which began to turn red as the metal in his arms heated up, whilst snaking cilia of energy split off in every which direction, going hither and thither, aiming to collapse whatever was in their path. As he continued to do this, some of his machinery overloaded and began to burst, or break off, but he continued unwaveringly, desperate to cause pain to something else,.... and himself, too, if need be, in the process.

He would do anything to hurt others, even if it meant doing it to himself! This is something even Rakassa didn't like to practice. Nevetheless, it would come to pass that Queegmaa's prosthetic fore-arms would explode from the unspeakable surge of power, throwing him back against a wall as the room was consumed in electrical death. Queegmaa's fleshy parts were moderately sizzled, and now he didn't have his hands, so if this had not the capacity to be the harbinger of doom to the gargantuan maggot, then much smaller versions of said abomination would soon be feasting on Queegmaa's corpse. It didn't help that the worm's shadowy laser added to the chaos, even though it had been engulfed by Que's own attack, empowering it further.... In the wake of the attack, it was unlikely that the room itself would be entirely intact, but that was the price one paid for vengeance; .....barrenness.....

Rakassa has posed:
The release of energy has the room neatly cleared. Rakassa, now neatly waiting in another room, sipping at wine and eating her meal, smirks to herself as she hears the explosion. He really /could/ do it. Hopefully he's not dead!

There's nothing left of the worm, but toasted scraps of flesh. Seems it's weak to being exploded by Que's cyborg arms. The kappa's won the day...if he survived.

Queegmaa has posed:

The explosivity levels, combining the worm's final attack, and Que's own, was ample enough in destructivity that he was able to eradicate most of the room itself, leaving himself in a smouldering status, with half of his mechanisms no longer operational. Fortunately he /had/ elected to use that electrical blast, for it overwhelmed and deflected the laser, otherwise, the joined forces of his own strike and the dark blast might've been enough to do him in; Queegmaa is a shrewd, arithmetician, on the other hand, so he knew beyond the decimal point, what would happen.... or at least, he had an /educated/ guess, as opposed to an ignorant one. His exhaust pipes pour sooty mist into the air as he shakily gets to the doorway of the room, whose doors were ripped from the hinges in the infernal blast, not having manipulatory limbs to open it, unless he were to employ his feet, and just hobbles painfully outside. Going just a little bit down the hallway, he uses his tongue to grasp the knob, like a frog would do, in order to open the door to which the knob was attached. Inside was Rakassa. He figured she'd be indulging while he was suffering.

Still on a high, Queegmaa was filled with some measure of residual bravado, and thus, upon entering, he has a brief coughing fit, before he addresses his master, "Cughh... CUhhhh... ACHK..." He spits right on the floor while the woman dines. "Ya shud knowed dat mud-skippers is above da worms who live inside mud. We eats 'em!" He snorts, and elaborates, "Ya Shaduh Lyerds is all da same!.... 'Cept you. You acksheeally got some kinda brain in dere." Queegmaa wipes his mouth, and scoffs, "I seen some recordins' from Manhatten of some'a yer spearyers who like tuh yammer lihk a buncha windbags! They's all unedjeecated boors!" He must've been feeling pretty bold to start trash-talking the Hollow Bastion's proprietors while in the Bastion, but he figured that if they had an issue with him, Rakassa would be responsible for stepping in and writing him off as being damaged senseless from the altercation with the enormous leech, and that his 'delirious stupidity' needed to be excused, since, she was, in effect, his ward!

At least Queegmaa had enough wits to enter the alcove and allow the door to shut before he went on his rant, and started to slander everyone. "Yer former Shadu Lyerds like Ang 'n Morraygen is wi'out conviksheeun, defectin' like dey dun gone'n did aways back!" He raises one toe, with that point, then he continues, "Yer Mal'faysend talks all dis nonsense about smotherin' the world in darkness, but even dat won't kill all forms o' life, cuz hydradermyac worms is able tuh live on da heat vents wi'out nuh light t'all! So she's git dar mistaken in her thinkin'!" He raises a second toe-- that was point two. "Den ya got that blowhard name't Garland. 'E goes on 'n on 'bout dis samsereea o' war bullsh*t, talkin' on how all forms o' life gotta feed on 'chother, 'n gots ta be at war.... But he prolly ain't edjeeckated eider, cuz I 'spect he's never heard of archea, which dun need nuh organic matter tuh keep 'live. They dun kill nuddin' 'tal!"

He briefly holds up a third toe, then lowers his foot to the ground. The troll trudges forward unsteadily, having poor usage of his propulsionary devices, "If yuh dink ya ken beat me wi' a worm, den yer sorely mistaken. Yuh shud knowed dat as a water demon whose lived a million years, I's pretty smart when it comes tuh annelids, 'n squirmers...." He points one of his stumps at Rakassa, accusingly, since he had no index finger to use, as he came to a pause, "Yuh din sen' dat worm jus' ta push me ta duh limits.... I knowed you got some ulteryur motive. 'N I saw ya givin' orders tuh Vohstras tuh make ice golems recently, out in the trainin' area back in Vectur. Yer gun tell me what yer tryin' ta git outta me, or I'm takin' my chances on da road!"

Rakassa has posed:
Rakassa leans back in her chair, a constant little smirk on her face: in between bites. She listens to his diatribe, his ranting, his ego-stroking. Truly, he had a point: many of the Shadow Lords were worthless to Rakassa. But it's in that, that she's perfectly content. As long as she can reap the rewards of the organization, the rest could do what they want. All she wants is wealth, power, prestige, and all the trappings of her call-sign: Lust.

She doesn't answer immediately, the threat seemingly ignored. It's only once sh'es pushing his tolerance that she finally answers. "I'm glad you were paying attention. You said it yourself: if it was about the creature, I'd've sent my little darling samurai. Just needed to see your spine, and how strong it was. Lacking, certainly. /Very/ lacking. But it's good enough for what I need."

Siip. She finishes off her glass of wine. "You're going to teach me about water magic, Que. And someone who doesn't have the spine to fight, doesn't have the spine to stand up, can't teach me. You'll do, for now. Good job." It's probably one of the few times she's praised him. For once, she's /proud/ of her little attendant.

Queegmaa has posed:

As Rakassa gives him flattery, Que shudders a little bit, unaccustomed to recieving compassionate words that were sincere; for even Rakassa was capable of /some/ generosity, whereas the one who abhorred himself was always in a state of eternal turmoil; he didn't want to be condemned, but he didn't want to be complimented, because he didn't feel he deserved it. Maybe that's what made Rakassa such an effective mastermind over Que-- the fact that she knew he couldn't be placated no matter what one said to him, for nothing... /nothing/ was good enough to ever truly make him happy.

He was a blight on the world, and belonged nowhere, not even amongst the worst of the worst, which is why he had to be erased, someday.... yet, the irony was that he was so despicable that he didn't even have the gall to do it himself, so inwardly, he hoped that one day, someone else would have the ingenuity to bring him his final breath of air(or water). As much as he wanted to self-terminate, he was too spineless, except on occasions where his anger rose to the extent that it made him the epitomization of unbridled fury, and at this point, he would only self-terminate if he knew it would take down others in the process, because all he could see was the hue of vermillion, in those moments. Already, he began to shrink away from his station of power.... for the one thing that could frighten him more than being threatened with death, was when one threatened to care about him, thus, the commendation siphoned some of his courage from his body.

Yet another weapon Rakassa knew of, that made Queegmaa's blood curdle, and that which would stimulate him to back-down.... showing true affection. Shivering, unable to allow anyone to ever love him, his knees wobbled a little, as he started to back away, towards the door, a shadow of gloom overtaking his countenance, "I.... I... will help, but... Dun dink fer one second dat I'll be pane fer dat room I jus' bursted up, in dere.... Yuh ken shuffle aroun' funds however ya feel lihk't, but I an takin' da blame fer dis.... Cuz keep in mind...." He sneers, "....I ain't technic'ly a Shaduh Lyerd trainee, which means dat yer 'sposed tuh be usin' dese facil'ties for those who're evensheeally gun serve Mal.... 'n you knowed s'well as ah do, dat I in nuh servant tuh two mas'ers... Ain't gon be tugged in ten difurnt dirkshuns..."

Rakassa has posed:
Rakassa smiles, a genuine one. Just what she wanted out of the little welp. She's the picture of superiority and victory. She waves a hand dismissively. "Right, right. Have a few dummy accounts from those soldiers who died last time. They'll do." Shrug. Experiments take cash, and thumbing the Empire for money is certainly not beyond her. She claps her hands, standing.

"Now let's get you back together in one piece! Then we can start right away. A few drugs, a bit knife, aaaand...." Griiiin! She looks absolutely /delighted/.

Queegmaa has posed:

Queegmaa grumps, "Hmmph.... Well, on da topic of soldeers, dun forget dat we need one o' yer idolizers ta get his name changed leeglee, 'n I do mean all 'o his names. Consol'date 'em to one single name.... But keep it strickly un paper, so nubody dar findin' out who shudn knowed 'bout it, til da time's right. Make sure da approval process git stall't til any contracks is signed....." He smirks, "Ya gotta trus' me on dis. Da lerd o' dee undareworl' probably has him some reeayle gud informens, 'n if he's findin' out somebody tuhk his name, den we'll have trouble. I in gon be able tuh 'sploit loophulls ferver, if he figars out we're playin' games wi' 'im. But we'll come out on top o' dis, cuz I kin git 'round anyding dat anybody ken get me to 'gree tuh!" With that, he grabs the door using his tongue, and opens it up, waiting to hear Rakassa's final sentiments on his statement. Upon receiving confirmation, he'll exit promptly.

Rakassa has posed:
"Already have someone in mind. Little wretch sent me a love letter once. Isn't that cute? Ugly as sin, beneath me. But I can use that. Loopholes are useful, and we'll use them as we have to. It's how we've stayed out of the spotlight too much." Shrugging, she waves him on.

"Got it, got it. It's going to work." Rakassa sounds confident enough.