<div class="floatright">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/c0/db/77/c0db77cbef981c004a07d1f8d376e85a.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Adelaide Meeks (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=269826.msg13302961#msg13302961)</strong></span><br/>Place:     The Other Side of the Dog's Teeth<br/>Tagging:  The Wicked and the Dead<br/><br/>Eternity in the dark...<br/><br/>It was her secret Hell, and Adelaide began to suspect that perhaps this was the justice of the powers that be. Formless and alone, with no company beyond the confines of herself. Uniquely bred by circumstance and the infernal, she existed to feast on the light of others. With nothing else to eat... she began to turn on herself. Adelaide was glacial, with no concept of shame or guilt, still she knew all of her own weaknesses and secret pains. She would be salivating if she still had a tongue in her head at the thought of how she would crack open that bitch, Adelaide Meeks.<br/><br/>The nausea of existence was welcome as she was dragged from the darkness. A slick and amorphous claw reached up, the woman clawing her way from oblivion before her new form had gained definition. She felt the tension within her as the primordial sludge began to grow rigid enough to mimic the inner workings of her body. She hoped this was the back end of a particularly bad opiate induced vision.<br/><br/>Nudity had always been how she dressed for battle, and so she was not particularly out of sorts "disarmed" though she missed her ropes. Indeed, she could not be any LESS distressed for two reasons. Firstly, Adelaide Meeks' armor was her flesh and her tongue her blade and shield. And second... having any flesh to wear was considerably more than she had had after the dogs had been done with her carcass. Things were looking up, to say the least.<br/><br/>Adelaide was languid in her observation of her surroundings. The impossible landscape that surrounded her was just the sort of thing that she might hallucinate depending upon what she had consumed over the course of the night. It was never a particularly good idea to act without thought when one could not trust their own eyes. She caught a glimpse of Cassandra as she adressed their hostess and sighed deep.<br/><br/>Cassandra's presence meant one of two things. Her hallucination was playing upon her guilt for not saving her companion, or she had shuffled loose the mortal coil as well. Adelaide had never tasted guilt and so that really left one option. Besides which, as her nausea subsided, she began to recognize the architecture from terrifying woodcuts and blasphemous tomes. The supplicant on her right only confirmed her suspicions, as the half elf proclaimed his undying loyalty with wagging tongue and swinging penis. She did not speak the languages of the infernal, but Adel got the gist of it, having listened to very similar speeches in the past. Drinking deep of that need in his eyes was one of her favorite vices.<br/><br/>He confirmed the name of their hostess. Malcanthet.<br/><br/>Her eyes thinned to slits as she gazed up at the succubus queen, trying to recall what she knew about this particular branch of the family. Adelaide knew her pecking order amongst the infernal was slightly above a particularly clever imp. This was well beyond her pay grade. Secrets and deception were poor shields against a manipulator of Malcanthet's caliber. But then, there was some glimmer of hope, was there not? The arch-succubus would not host a meeting of those she intended to throw to the flames.<br/><br/>Adelaide drew in a slow deep breath as one girl stepped forward to offer her services in killing those gathered. It was irrelevant to the problem at hand. What was relevant was what did they do when confronted with such a creature? Alien, inscrutable and all powerful? Offer bodies she herself had given them in supplication? That seemed too simple and petty for a creature like her. Perhaps that was the trick of it, that she had gathered them for their own particular "gifts". If that was the case, what was it that she brought to the table? Charming dinner conversation and an encyclopedic knowledge of poisons hardly seemed like something that would leave an arch fiend wet and wanting.<br/><br/>Adelaide balled up her slender fist, her head tilting to the side almost quizzically at the succubus that lounged above them regally. There was never a second chance to make a first impression. She smiled broadly up at Malcanthet as she turned her attention to her and responded with another deep breath before clenching her fist so tightly it bled.<br/><br/>She grinned into her knuckles as she struck herself repeatedly in the face, blood or whatever passed for it in her new form staining her lips like a painted lady as her gaze remained unwavering on their savior. At last she stopped, her fist spattered with her efforts as she murmured with a shudder,<strong> "Consider... pain."</strong>Meeks' smile had turned predatory yet playful, made ghastly by her self flagellation,<strong> "What good is supplication of this body when it is flesh you have gifted me? And so, let us consider pain. In an inch of flesh, I shall wake an ocean of pain, its depth upon a man like unto the seas themselves upon a grain of sand."<br/></strong><br/>Adelaide vainly ran a bloody fingertip across her eyebrows in turn. Her tongue idly tickled at the side of her lips, as she confirmed she had not broken her own jaw before she continued,<strong>"We all beg in our own way in the face of perdition and I am a firm believer in letting shit roll down hill. I should very much like to dispense a bounty of pain at your whim, to postpone my own punishment, your grace. Better at the right hand of fate than in its path, yes?"</strong>