<div class="floatright">(https://i.postimg.cc/4NGCqc6g/ae8f46fa01f710c33ffcb693f36777d7.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><hr/><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Armor:</strong></td><td>0</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Hit points:</strong></td><td>25</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Damage:</strong></td><td>d6</td></tr></tbody></table><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Str:</strong></td><td>16</td><td>[+2]</td><td><strong>Dex:</strong></td><td>13</td><td>[+1]</td><td><strong>Con:</strong></td><td>15</td><td>[+1]</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Int:</strong></td><td>08</td><td>[-1]</td><td><strong>Wis:</strong></td><td>09</td><td>[+0]</td><td><strong>Cha:</strong></td><td>12</td><td>[+0]</td></tr></tbody></table><hr/></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;">Mazz Merrytongue (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=318428.msg15339377#msg15339377)</span><br/><strong>Action:</strong>Mazz defies danger twice with Dex!<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">8/8</div><div class="spoiler_body">At 2020-03-31 09:17:10, Brittlby (uid: 870) rolls: 2d6k2a1 Result: 8 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=145813) At 2020-03-31 10:51:11, Brittlby (uid: 870) rolls: 2d6k2a1 Result: 8 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=145814)</div></div><br/><hr/><br/>Mazz was cackling like a harpy and pointing at the twins when they turned and looked at each other in unison. The others had spoken to her at length about the fact that even if she wasn’t trying to be mean, her “child like honesty”, as she phrased it, had a tendency to piss people off. As in this situation, when she exclaimed, “ Oh no! I had hoped my wine was playing tricks on me! The gods cursed TWO people with that face!”<br/><br/>In her slimey heart of hearts, Mazz truly was voicing concern and sympathy for the ass-faced twins, rather than scorn. At the end of the day, she was pretty sure SHE was the victim! Forever misunderstood by reprobate degenerates, if only the inbred, cock-nosed sheep fuckers knew how gracious and accepting she was, “ Was it a witch’s curse or did your father have the pecker worms when you were concei- eeeep!”<br/><br/>The ooze let out a sharp squeak as she was tackled. Unsteady on her feet already, there was little she could do to resist as the brothers rammed her into the wall, knocking the wind out of her. It was probably for the best, given how she had been abusing the privilege when she had air in her “lungs”.<br/><br/>As Thing 1 grasped hold of her wrist, Mazz twisted her arm free almost immediately like a contortionist unimpeded by wrist bones. Her dress didn’t fare nearly as well as his hands flailed for purchase and tore open her vestments.<br/><br/>Free from the tyranny of fabric, her breasts spilled out of her top, glistening with excitement. They always glistened, but in this moment, she was also excited. Translucent and as perfectly formed as a statue of a love diety, maybe in her days of flesh Mazz had suffered a few imperfections, but now her body was as she remembered it. And with her ego, she couldn’t remember anything less than perfection.<br/><br/>Nipples at attention and with stray bits of wood stuck to her hair, she let out a wanton sigh. Mazz had developed a taste for a rough hand occasionally, ESPECIALLY when she was drunk. It took a proper hate fucking to cut through the booze when she was this far gone.<br/><br/>If she was honest with herself, she had bedded uglier! And so she offered them a sultry smile a moment before she noticed Thing 2 was about to jam a bottle in her face.<br/><br/>... that was a bit TOO rough.<br/><br/>More instinct than intent, as the bottle whizzed towards her, Mazz flinched. But where as a human flinching in the face of danger would result in a really cool scar to tell their friends about later, things were a little different for Mazz. Her face collapsed in on itself like the air rushing out of a sex doll, her ooze puddling against the wall as the bottle sailed past where her head had been a moment before.<br/><br/>Sobering up ever so slightly, the slime’s head pulled itself back together, stray bits of wood still floating inside her as she turned to Thing 1. She didn’t struggle to escape or “go limp”, instead going with her first instinct. Which was a horrible idea, given how bad her judgment typically was.<br/><br/>She grasped him behind his head, her fingers knotting in his hair tightly as she whispered an inch from his lips, “... my safe word is “tomato”.”<br/><br/>This she followed by drawing him into her soft, sweet lips. Mazz moaned into the kiss as her tongue pressed deep into his mouth, teasing across the length of his own. She tasted like a mulled wine and was impossibly warm against him. It looked as if she was diffusing the situation... until her tongue went deeper still. Mazz pour gulp after gulp of herself down his gullet.<br/><br/>The local grain alcohol might put hair on your chest and give you a cock, but what Mazz could brew was a stiffer vintage by far. After a few seconds without air and too much “love”, she broke off the kiss. A trail of saliva connected them a moment more before he slumped over. As he crumpled to the floor with possible alcohol poisoning Mazz turned her attention to the man with the bottle.<br/><br/>It was often easy to forget that at the end of the day, obnoxious and haughty as she was most of the time, Mazz was a monster. Excited now, her hair had taken on a life of its own, her tresses swaying like serpents in the wind. She had grown a few shades darker, which probably meant something bad, but who really understood slime physiology at the end of the day?!? It was just fucking scary!<br/><br/>She ran her tongue across her lips hungrily as she stepped over the unconscious brother, her voice was growing deeper with hunger. It was hard to tell if she was thinking about eating or fucking Thing 2...<br/><br/>If anyone took the time to take a tally around the bar which it was, the vote would be a resounding, “<strong>Possibly both!</strong>”<br/><br/>“Are you going to buy me a drink or are we going to skip to the screaming?” She hissed breathlessly, the words again nestling right in the valley between threat and proposition. Maybe a drink could calm her down?<br/>