Hungry, Hungry, Big-hipped Drows

Hungry, Hungry, Big-hipped Drows
Date of Scene:	27 August 2013
Location:	Madame Rosemarie's Magical Assistance and Consulting
Synopsis:	Queegmaa barges into Rosemarie's shop, and decides to give the dark elf a taste of his wrath, to blow off some steam after having been thoroughly patronized by a snooty Ivalician vampiress. Being the accommodating type, the drow not only accepts a taste of the kappa's anger, but also then decides to invite the the rest of Que's aspects to become part of her palate, up to, and including his physical embodiments!
Cast of Characters:	Rosemarie, Queegmaa

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Queegmaa has posed:
Queegmaa slunk towards Rosemarie's shop, as he was passing through Traverse Town, following his little altercation with Ophelia Lovett a day or so prior; he was still in a bit of a rotten mood, because he'd been patronized like some sort of lackey, instead of receiving the respect to which he was entitled! Now, he wasn't purely resentful towards Ophelia herself, since he didn't easily begrudge 'people', so much as circumstances, since he felt that people were just an extension of the higher powers at work-- in his own world, that would've been The Three Deities: Goddess, Doom, and Poltergeist.

This doesn't mean that Ophelia is utterly off of the hook, because Que suspected that some self-interest was always at the heart of others' behavior, just as his own deeds were designed to facilitate his own whimsical cravings in life! His locus of control still brushed against the external, courtesy of his many decades having spirituality ingrained in his thoughts, as part of the way of life from his impish tribe. The empire had wiped some of that off his psychological map, steering him towards a more individualistic attitude in terms of who was responsible for whatever developments came about, but deep inside of himself, the hydrant hellion thought that it had not just been Ophelia scorning him, but the gods themselves condemning him -through- her, demonstrating how invalid his feelings were, and that he deserved the station in life to which he'd ever had problems resigning himself, in some finalized, terminal fashion. The dark elf's institution -claimed- it could bring happiness to others for a fee, and the inexorably skeptical pessimist became unhinged at the notion that someone would try to coax him into buying such tripe, even though he was definitely an avid lover of seafood!

Shoving the door open with a haughty attitude, with his mind already made up on the matter, Queegmaa strode into the shop, eager to verbally thrash whoever would dare attempt to pass off their line of work as the panacea of life's problems, when his were surely much worse than everyone else's!.... How arrogant was this drow to think she could even /begin/ to comprehend Que's issues?! By sheer coincidence, maybe due to weather, but less likely from lack of maintenance, the door stuck a little, compounding Que's agitation as he had to yank a little harder than usual to gain access inside. Immediately upon entering, he scoffs right off the bat, "....Fer a place that's 'sposed ta be all expertised in figurin' out what others want, ya'll sure dun make anybody's day by not servicing your shoddy rigs!" he groans.

Rosemarie has posed:
Rosemarie surfaces from the back of the shop, having been hard at work today with some manner of work or another in what one can presume is the kitchen. At some point she does have to replenish the supply of assorted potions, brews, and draughts which are the most common sellers in Rosemarie's shop due to being simple, reasonably effective, and with minimal investment.

Rosemarie lets the bead curtain fall back into places as she puts on her best customer service face and approaches her new, notably rude customer. She straightens her dress as she moves to the counter, smoothing it out before positioning herself across the counter from her usual, semi-metallic visitor.

"Apologies about the door. It must be the moisture in the air. I'll get it fixed by the end of the day today." Rosemarie smiles pleasantly, despite Queegmaa's attitude. "I'm Madame Rosemarie, the proprietor. Is there something I might be able to help you with?"

Queegmaa has posed:
When Rosemarie appears before Que, he folds his arms over his chest defensively, "Hmmph!" He begins to strut around with an air of importance, as though taking the phrase 'The customer is always right' to new levels. It's hard for him to look down on anyone, at a height of far less than six feet, but his aura radiates a sense of pretentiousness that seldom exists in most-- maybe it's simply because on this particular day, he's feeling vengeful, and wants to take it out on someone who he thinks is relatively defenseless; Rosemarie doesn't look the part of the seasoned warrior, or wizard!

"Yeah.... You ken start by findin' a personal trainer so dat ya stop making me wobble when you roam around makin' the floorboards quake.", he cackles as she tries to be amicable with the sour sewer-dweller. As he meanders through her boutique, he randomly picks something up, squinting his eyes to give the objects a good look, before setting them down roughly. "Why don'tcha make yerself useful 'n start tellin' me what you're so good at doing that makes people's dreams come true. Sounds like a load o' hogwash if I ever heard it!" Queegmaa grunts.

Rosemarie has posed:
Rosemarie fights back the urge to roll her eyes, and instead continues to smile pleasantly. Rather than respond to his insult, she waits to steer the conversation in a different direction. Luckily for Rose, he quickly provides a means to do so. Even if he didn't, Rosemarie has nothing if not patience.

"Planning, largely, and a significant amount of spellcraft, or whatever term you prefer." She says, her fang-like teeth protruding slightly when she smiles just so. "A little bit of magic goes a long way when it's implemented properly, and I bring plenty of experience and forethought into seeing through whatever sort of dream a client has..." Rosemarie adjusts her dress, then adds, "Provided we can work out a reasonable payment for the services needed."

Queegmaa has posed:
Bellowing amusedly, as soon as the dark elf begins spouting off about acceptable reimbursements, Queegmaa ripostes, enjoying the fact that he's giving her guff and she's having to take it, being a person in a position of employment needing to maintain professionalism, which has doubtlessly been time-tested, the kappa realizes it's the perfect opportunity to hassle some 'helpless' businesswoman. he figures that she'll go home feeling grumpy, because he'd've allegedly transferred all his negative energy unto her person, for even if she didn't -seem- to take his jilting too personally, inside.... if she had any sense of self-respect, the drow couldn't've been extremely pleased that Que was mocking her appearance, and the degree of proficiency she has in her line of work, by having nitpicked at her jammed door, right off the bat.

Perchance it was that these insults were having a remote effect at best, but added to the equation was Rose's tolerance for the fact that hades' green spawn was being abrasive with her wares; not enough to actually break anything, but it must've sent discreet shivers down her spine every time he mishandled something that could've plausibly resulted in the kind of structural damage that wasn't visible enough to be proven as legit, if she wished to accuse Queegmaa of injuring her merchandise, and necessitating compensation for the damaged goods.... Such is the fear of every vendor who sees something of theirs treated with disrespect.

"Planning? HAH! When do ya plan to gimme a taste of this skill you got at life experience?! All I hear is a buncha talk and no action." With that, one of the piston-rings in his machinery in a rather untimely manner, chooses that moment to wear down to the point that some of the grease escapes through the piston, and thus, the cylinder. From one of the kappa's exhaust-pipes arises a heavier, sooty smoke that, if given ample time, may taint the air quality in Rosemarie's shop a bit.... it's mildly obvious because the vapor is less opaque, and his engines can be heard sputtering ever so delicately. "Lemme see some of yer misdiacizm.... and toss some wisdom at me... I don't plan on payin' til I know you ain't a fraud! I want a demonstration." This surely would be one hard sell, if not simply thanks to the inevitability of there soon being a hardy smell, inside of her venue.

Rosemarie has posed:
Rosemarie takes a deep breath--thankfully before the noxious emission from Queegmaa's machinery, but keeps her cool. She snaps open her fan and uses it defensively, even fanning away some of the smell once it becomes troublesome for her. Rosemarie will certainly have to dig through into her perfumes and deodorants later.

"Well of course," Rosemaries says, "it's understandable that one would be a skeptic, but I assure you my services are most certainly quality." Rose fishes out a scroll-like wrap of parchment, twists off the lid, and dumps the contents onto the counter--after which they unroll, perhaps by some enchantment or another.

"I have, here, a mark-up for the full plan through which a Ms. Beauvoir was made taken from a simple farmer's daughter to a well-established merchant princess of her hometown, suitable for marriage to any respecting prince." Rosemarie leaves the scroll out for a moment so that her "customer" can peruse it. "I believe it acts as a suitable testament to my talents in management. As for magics..."

Rosemarie removes a second package, a small, cloth bag. She carefully unties the string holding it closed, then dumps a fine, pink powder into her palm. She exhales sharply into her extended hand, blowing the powder into the air. As it goes, the smoke starts to slowly recede, giving way to a much more pleasant, springtime smell as whatever powder Rosemarie placed into the air seems to disperse--or perhaps even absorb--the pollution.

Queegmaa has posed:
The irony is that Queegmaa was heavily drenched in the energies of a venomous esper for several years, and as such, to his olfactories, Rosemarie's strange pink perfume causes him to wrinkle his nose and adorn a look of displeasure. As she waves her fan, he swishes his hand through the air, trying to disperse some of the fumes that the drow ejected into the vicinity, trying to hold back a cough as he sighs, and rolls his eyes.

"Fine.... I'll play along with this lil' game of yer's. I can't say I'm too impressed with that funky scent you just blew in m' face, but your rinky-dink paper might say something about a princess kissin' a toad, which got her engaged to...." He rubs his head in a wearisome fashion, as he suddenly glances at Rosemarie's dress. He'd now /attempt/ to be a little more compatible since she was expending products of hers to qualify the things she was saying about her career-choice. He noticed that she had managed to loosen the bow around the backside of her absurdly poofy dress, undeniably without it having been intentional, and Que circled around towards Rosemarie's backside, thinking that if he helped her, he might receive a rebate of some kind.

Not terribly invasive, especially considering his objections, but it still might have been mildly unorthodox for a customer to help a worker; even so, because his motives were pure, it was forgivable, right? As if to announce his intent so as not to alarm her, he began to say "...This needs fixing...." yet, in defiance of the fact that her posterior must've been harder to handle because she couldn't see as easily what she was doing, the dark elf may have felt compelled to dismiss Que's efforts so that she could fix it herself.

Rosemarie has posed:
Rosemarie continues to smile pleasantly anyway. "My apologies," she says, "it seemed like a reasonable demonstration, considering the present circumstances." She wrinkles her nose ever so slightly. The smell was very unpleasant.

Rosemarie soon finds that her 'customer' has repositioned himself, however, and is busying himself with trying to fix her bow. "Oh, does it?" she asks, trying to look to turn enough to see the bow for herself, which is rather difficult--between it's position and her ponderous backside. "Ah, I can certainly take care of it later," she says, perhaps encouraging Queegmaa to back off.

Queegmaa has posed:
Queegmaa's rickety machinery continues to dispense thick smoke as he tries to fiddle with Rosemarie's bow. When she swats at him lightly, he aggressively, and insistently proceeds, which might cause Rose to become a little more determined to shake him loose while slapping the kappa away from herself. "I got it.... Just gimme a sec, 'kay? Don't be so impernitent!" He barks, as though he were manhandling his own property, while simultaneously mispronouncing yet another word from his oddball vocabulary. Suddenly, one of his mechanisms goes off, discharging his surujin-cable, which fires at Rosemarie's wrists, since they're right in front of him.

Acting like a bola-cord, Que's 'Cling' ability is basically a substitute for cessation spells such as 'Slow' and 'Stop', except in a mechanical way, since the kappa prides himself on being a techno-mage. In essence, during combat situations, the spinning cable flies out and wraps around its intended victim, often entangling them in various avenues; the most common contingency is when it binds one arm to someone's side, although even if both his opponent's arms are outstretched, there's often enough centripetal force to forcibly adduct their upper limbs inward, pinning said caudal appendages to their sides, disabling them both, to some effect. When adversaries hold their weapons two-fisted, with both arms presented before them, they end up with their hands temporarily folded in their laps, however, this doesn't incapacitate them as well as the former fluke. In Rosemarie's case, there's little chance it'll do either of these, but rather, because one hand is beside her ribcage, and one is crossed over the small of her back, across her lumbar vertebrae, it'll fasten them together in a strange fashion so that her hands are stuck to the side, technically, if she brings her arms down to be at rest, they'll end up behind her, but this theoretical 'side-binder' is simply too appetizing to simply retell as such-- the chances are, if the cords find their mark, he'll /claim/ that it wrapped both her hands to her side while it diagonally cut downward and inward over her leg, which would require skill of an unprecedented level, and presumably give him bragging rights that he pulled off a lasso-trick of this caliber.

The water-imp will also assert that it was during battle, so that he doesn't have to admit that it was mere dumb luck that he pulled off such a maneuver..... it was simply far too awesome of a yarn not to tout! On the other hand, if Rosemarie finds herself in a bind, it could take her some time to free herself, which meant that Que would be free to peruse her store without there being a medium through which she could stop him if he ended up deciding to take something, even if it was of minor value. It'd be dubious that if Rosemarie did end up restrained, that she'd refrain from demanding Queegmaa to help her out of her entanglements, since he had been the one to get her into them. However, rather than offer an outright apology, Que simply remarks, astonishedly, "Oops.... Hmm... Well that's a first." At this point, Rosemarie might be awkwardly contorted, or she might have just given up on struggling, if the wires trussed her up, since she might be expecting Queegmaa to intervene; in his defense, he did show -some- generosity by /trying/ to fix her bow, which he ended up doing, in the end!

Rosemarie has posed:
Rosemarie lets out a startled yelp when she suddenly finds her arms bound by a cable of some sort. It's a highly unpleasant situation, perhaps from the actual discomfort inflicted by her position, or maybe just because she doesn't like being deprived of her ability to use her hands--particularly during a robbery. Regardless, the noise is brief before Rosemarie regains her composure.

"Mmph," Rosemarie says, "I presume this was accidental, on your part?" she asks, eying the 'customer' (perhaps robber would be a better term?) warily. Rose shifts her position around so that she is slightly more comfortable, but her hands are still firmly secured--she's no contortionist, nor an escape artist.

"Mm," Rosemarie makes a thoughtful noise. "You are going to remove this troublesome cable, yes?"

Queegmaa has posed:
Rosemarie was wrong about Queegmaa being a robber, in some respects.... he didn't actually plan on coming in so as to steal her belongings, however, that didn't mean he wouldn't sabotage some of her stuff by accident, without intending to buy the things that he broke.... or ruined, in any case. The kappa shrugs, and moves away from the woman, remarking, "Blah.... Too much work, you ken get yerself out. I already helped ya with that bow-thingie, besid--"

He pauses, suddenly, yet another contraption malfunctions! His ability 'Octopus Ink', which is actually a gun designed to blind his competition, unleashes its wrath in several directions as he tries to get a hold on it, to make it stop. Eventually, the thing stops, but not before any carpeting she has is permanently stained, as well as possible rugs..... some wood furnishings.... and even, well, her extremely exquisite dress, which probably cost her a fortune! Queegmaa sighs, and starts to walk towards the door, completely unapologetic that he just wrecked a good portion of her store with highly-concentrated ink, and he shows no signs of remorse to indicate that he's going to stick around and pay for the damages.

With her arms bound firmly, he gambles that she can't exactly do anything to prevent him from waltzing right out the very same door he came through, without making any promises to undo what he's done. "Well.... I fig' that we're even-steven, cuz ya never really showed me anything fancy, plus I helpedcha with the junk wrapped around yer trunk.... So, nice meetin' ya, Rosie. I got stuff I gotta do. You can keep the metal ropes yer wearin', free o' charge.... consider it a payback!" Of course, the cords that kept her tied were nowhere /near/ as valuable as what Que just tarnished, although he seems to think that he's treated Rosemarie quite fairly..... She's just a lowly business-woman, and at present, a helpless one. Sucks to be her, right?

Rosemarie has posed:
Rosemarie frowns and bites her lip, repositioning herself slightly to properly face Queegmaa. She looks at him and, after the inky mess he creates, gives him the first genuine glare she's delivered in quite some time. It is full of disgust and anger. She bites her lip once more, considering, perhaps briefly, that she should likely appraise what kind of connections he might have come looking for him--but no matter. He has pushed her too far, at this point, to worry about that. She'll cross that bridge when she comes to it.

"Oh, don't go," Rosemarie says, her tone shifting to something more sinister than her usual pleasant range. "At least, not after you've convinced me to break my diet. After quite some time, too." Rose says, her mouth slowly twisting into a wicked grin.

After which Rosemarie opens her mouth wide, creating tremendous suction--not unlike a certain pink puffball--which is aimed right at Queegmaa. He'll likely find himself being pulled toward her in short order, perhaps even lifted off the ground as Rosemarie tries to pull the obnoxious technomage into her gullet through dark magic!

Queegmaa has posed:
Waving a hand disinterestedly, Queegmaa is just about at the door when the owner claims that she wants him to spend a little more time with her, to assist her further, to which he blinks, muddled, and looks over his shoulder. "Break yer diet? Ya already broke it long ago, sheep-cheeks." A little bit of an allusion to 'sweet-cheeks', except he's actually referring to her rump being enlarged like a big, wooly, orbital sheep.

The fact that she's retained her serenity(or seemingly so) during the whole affair is beyond remarkable, but the real dealbreaker that makes Rosemarie something special is what transpires just moments after she exhibits a quality of self-discipline that Que has probably seen few times in his life. After her maw becomes a gaping fissure, an immensely powerful traction materializes as she begins to inhale.... deeply, and powerfully. At first, Que can't believe his own eyes, which then widen in shock as the magnitude of the pull increases exponentially, "Wut?!....?" he quickly grabs for the nearest object, but nothing is in range besides the door-knob, which only affords enough girth to provide him with one hand's worth of grasping-power. Gritting his teeth as his feet scrape against the floor, as though a car would make skidmarks when trying to resist tremendous towing(but forward in an automobile's case), the floorboards peel as they give way before Queegmaa himself, which speaks volumes for what intensity is involved in the 'black-hole' trying to swallow him.

Soon, he's airborne, "STOPPIT, YOU B*TCH!!!! YOU'RE MAD!" Releasing the trigger on his other hand, he sends out some grappling hooks attached to cables like the kind he bound Rose with, which sink into nearby furniture and walls, ala-Pinhead from Hellraiser, while his entire body is suspended in the air while he desperately seeks to get away from Rosemarie. Steadily, all Queegmaa's tools fail him, as the door-knob actually rips free from its confines, and the solid-steel hooks /break/, unable to support the pressure.... and the kappa surges towards Rosemarie, thinking himself about to collide with her, and hopefully.... give him an opportunity to tackle her? "YOUUUU!!!!!"

Rosemarie has posed:
Rosemarie simply continues the suction, though her brow furrows when the kappa causes further damage to her establishment in the process of resisting--but at this point, she has no option but to finish her work here. When Queegmaa attempts to clobber her Rose opens her mouth further, giving him no target as she pulls him the rest of the way into her gullet.

Once Queegmaa disappears the suction suddenly stops, with Rosemarie's expression (and facial features) returning to normal. There's a brief, pronounced 'gulp' once they do.

Queegmaa has posed:
From somewhere inside her abdomen.... Queegmaa tries to push his way out, and occasionally, bulges may protrude from her stomach as though a fetus kicking the belly of the pregnant mother-to-be; the chances are, however.... that he'll be stuck there awhile, if he doesn't end up being digested permanently. Now all Rosemarie has to do is get herself unbound, and then begin the tedious chore of replacing all the decor that her unruly 'guest' just abolished, with his selfish antics.