Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts

Chuckling at the reactions, so far.

Despite her head-start, it wouldn't be long before the remainder of the Taskforce left behind would catch up - especially, since she'd stopped to feed. As such, Carroll was looking over the mission board for anything that would put a generous distance between herself with Alice, and the meddling members that could stop her. Admittedly, she was shocked when nobody attempted to stop her, as she rejoined the town at the border of the temple and the township; where they so trusting of Alice that no-one questioned the Lamia carrying her sleeping body, or were they so foolish to not think that a more nefarious Mamono would use another as a Trojan Horse, if they knew of their relationship to the Taskforce.

And, then, there was the matter of Lady Kikyo; last seen riding by Carroll in a clear panic - a far cry from the wintry matriarch that had wrapped them in her cold embrace. It would take a fool not to assume the allegiance of the men that had attempted to sack the cemetery temple with that expression: they were her soldiers, defected from her word and whim. To what end, Carroll didn't care - men were fickle; women more so. Across the board, Humans were a baffling species, and she wanted little to do with them.

Hence, her desire to put space between her and them.

...but, she was only so honest with her disdain.

That training hadn't only changed Alice, but her, as well. Bonding with a Human - a man, to boot - had corrupted her own mentality in a way, itself. Shizuka was full of emotions to prey on; past glories, failures, and losses. Negative emotions were always the best to focus on, and his most regrettable featured this form she inhabited, now. She didn't have all the details, but enough to form this new shell.

Unfortunately, in the heat of battle, we can take more than intended. The form didn't come without drawbacks - she couldn't assume the full form of her true nature, but that was easy to overcome with more training. What wasn't was the deeply rooted emotion that lingering in Shizuka's heart for the woman she mimicked; he hated her, yet loved her, and she felt it. Whoever she was, she broke his heart and soul, and shaped him into the man he was today.

As she scanned the board, she noticed Shizuka's name stamped on one of the notices, and traced it with a finger, "Darling, ganbatte kudasai..."
What?

Carroll drew her hands to get mouth in shock and horror, as she registered the words that came out her mouth. That wasn't what she meant! Not even in the slightest! She didn't even give a passing thought to the wannabe samurai bandit! She had her Alice! She didn't need some husband -- er, man! Shaking her crimson locks with a violence, she realized she'd been standing at the board for an inordinate amount of time, and snatched an order off the board.

A mission to deal with some loon swinging his sword on a beach. That's what she needed - a good sword fight; steel against steel; sweat dripping; bodies clashing; euphoria mating with -- meeting with! -- violence! Slamming the request down, Carroll was troubled to hide her self-inflicted arousal. "C-Carroll and Alice," she stammered out when requested her name. Turning, she slithered to the room she'd been asked to put Alice in with a quickness, and battered through the door with her tail; locks and privacy be damned. "Alice! We have a mission! Let's depart for the nearest harbor, and set sail for Hama Island!" she shouted, before she melted and converted into her mundane form.

~Half an hour ago...~
Alice only slept a short while, after Carroll had deposited her in one of the temple rooms. It was no life of luxury, but a bedroll was a bed, and invited sleep all the same. No, her rest was fractured by the nightmares - the flames of war, the smell of battle, and the sounds of death and dying men. It was unforgettable, unmistakable, and unforgivable...

Her dreams were desperate peace and guilty protest mulled into simple nightmare; recollection of the horrors she'd wrought in the name of belonging for nearly two-hundred years - hiding behind a moniker, and a monarchy, to stand above it all as the most brilliant of her kin and ken, undisputedly.

They called her a barbarian for a reason.

Yet, she'd once only dreamed of making tea from a hole in the ground.

...wait, did she?

Alice sat up, having been lying down, and staring at the ceiling. Looking around, she spied a looking glass upon the wall, and stood up to approach it. She looked at herself, the reflection of a conqueror - her Mamono nature kept her beautiful, but she knew how haggard and exhausted she looked within. "Beautiful, outside. Horrendous, inside," she lamented, as she looked at her head. Her blonde hair, as golden as the rising sun, had shifted in streaks and the roots, towards the redness of a setting sun. "My hair is dirty..." Alice grumbled, taking the color change for filthiness, as she ran her fingers through and they came back oily.

Displeased, the Mad Hatter would collect toiletries from the cupboard provided as a closet, and head out to the temple bath with basket in hand and towel covering her modesty. As she reached the bath, she ignored the rest of the bathers - a mixture of Human and Mamono - to slip into her own world. Culturally, her kind had no issue with communal... well, everything, really, but, sometimes, a woman just wanted some me time. Having come back from a hard training session to be dragged into a fight only to be cucked out of it by a Goblin and High Orc - poetic irony, that - had Alice in a bit of a funky mood.

Not to mention, unfulfilled. After all, Carroll had stirred the pot, but she didn't get to boil over; a fact that her loins were aching to remind her of - blue-balled, as they were. Alice hungered for the Jiangshi; her violence, her neediness born of a hunger only she could satisfy, her --

A sudden suck of someone's teeth brought the former Matango back to reality, and an older woman gave her a surreptitious glance, directing the Mamono to her sword. Alice blushed grass-green from the nape of her neck to her perfect hairline, as she hastily supplied an apology to the elder clergywoman, and fucking booked it for her room - leaving her hat, towel, and bathing basket behind.

Thankfully, shame was a POWERFUL demotivator - if you weren't a total humiliation sub - and Alice was able to splash into her bedroll, after locking the door, without cracking her most, and least, important bone. Humiliated to the nth degree, Alice wallowed in agony and misery, as she prayed that rumours of her curse wouldn't circulate. "Oh, why did I listen to that damn Sea Hag when she wanted to 'spice things up in the bed,' like an idiot!"

Kicking her legs in the air, Alice would rant and rave and yell at her crotch for basic biological responses before the door was suddenly battered in by a powerful tail slamming through it. Before she could entertain if it was the Temple Decency Police come to arrest her for public indecency and whatever charges the old lady cooked up, Carroll would enter and entreat a side quest upon her.

An excuse to leave, if ever there was one!

Hastily, she scooped up her demonic hand-and-half axe, and grabbed a peasant dress from the dresser, and booked it for the docks - screw shoes, they'd be useless on a beach anyways. And, so with no hat, underwear, socks, or shoes, the Mad Hatter would beat the fast retreat - racking up numerous (imaginary) charges against decency, but she didn't care as she ran.

Upon arrival, she'd be told there was a grace period, since the swordsman seemed to be self-contained to the beach, unless provoked. Due to his assumed skills and potential background, the higher-ups had requested a few days before shipping off to allow some of the more seasoned members to opt in.

As long as Alice's misadventures were undiscovered, she didn't care. Besides, it was one guy with a sword on a beach, who would wanna waste their time with that, when there were more exciting things to do - probably, maybe. It wasn't like she looked as she hurried away with her tail between her legs, so to speak.

"Well, whatever..." Alice sighed, lying on the deck of the boat, "I'mma take a nap, and get some sun in."
Well, props for committing to the bit, lol. Thankfully, I read the original run, so my eyes aren't forced to commit die.
ATTN: @AzureKnight & @The Irish Tree
Tiziana wasn't hard to sense; a Mana like her was loud, performative - demanding attention, and ready to put on a show - and desperate, and John loved the smell of desperation. "Desperate girls are easy prey for easy play," so one of her brothers had told her, years on years ago - they hadn't spoken since, after she slept with his girlfriend that same time, and tossed the advice in his face. It wasn't that she did it out of malice or anything - she loved her brothers, especially Bazz; it was just their faults for raising her as "one of the boys," and not expecting this outcome.

As she followed her guide, she would play back the fight, critiquing her movements, and her mercy. However, John didn't have long to dwell, as Tiziana's Mana was on fast approach, and planned to land beside her without regard to personal space or caution.

Ironic.

"I imagine you make a hobby of getting into fights wherever you go?"

"Fights find me," John says. "I can't help it, if a bunch of little boys get angry that their friend ignorantly slipped on a banana peel I dropped."

John's guide snickered, "That's quite the classic deflection."

"You probably noticed me following you. I came here to return this back to you, you left it. Perhaps, too busy inflicting violence on a poor innocent soul?"

John quirked an eyebrow, as Tiziana barreled through the back-and-forth, as if neither of the other women had spoken. "I invite you to recall the aforementioned reason," she says.

"Oh, she heard you, darlin', but these artist types ain't kind to unfinished sentences," the woman says, "Something of an artist yourself, Johanna Alighieri?" John's blood ran cold, as the woman chuckled, "My mistake. You go by Wattsun, don't you? The Fiery Detective, John Wattsun."

"You -- " John cut the sentence short with a sharp punch of her shotgun barrel against the woman's back, "That's -- " Anger was cutting her thoughts, as she tried to formulate words.

"Now, now, cher," the woman says, looking back; her eyes were changed, empty, black hollows with a meager, red light glimmering from the back like a light at the end of a long, treacherous tunnel into hell. "Juniper Mofferan, charmed," she says, her voice becoming more pleasant and her accent shining through even better, "It's not every day I come across celebrities," Juniper looked ahead, "Tiziana Maggiore, in my little neck of the desert. Oh, joyous days~!"

John tightened her expression, and grimaced, before she relaxed. "Seems my reputation precedes me," she says, smugly. If a Witch was good at anything, more than potions and being discriminated against, it was saving face and putting on airs. However, she noticed the woman's twin bangs were, suddenly, standing oddly - almost like... antenna?

"That they do," Juniper says, her hair drooping back down, as she squeezed her eyes close with the excited an exclaim of: "I even saw another up-and-coming artists. Little Lady Alina d'Aureville! The Stonemistress of Lascuta!"

John tilted her head, "Stonemistress, huh? Sounds like an edgy, little shit."

Juniper giggled, now a noticeably buzzy sound. "We're almost there..."

"There, being," John asks.

"Now, now, cher, that's not a question you ask," Juniper grinned, "It's a surprise, after all."
No standalone Alice post, but a Carroll post instead! And, a little spicy at the end. Eyebrows do waggle.
As Carroll slithered back towards the village that was hosting them, Alice was drifting off into an uneventful sleep - her first real rest since the training session, mere hours ago. A mistake, that. It was a small thing, but small things had the tendency of growing over time - mountains of molehills, so to speak. And, though her mortal existence was not commonplace as others, Carroll still bore the same, lascivious cravings as any Mamono; cursed, as she were.

Her stomach rumbled in desperation; a timeless cry for proper sustenance. She took what she could from Alice - a little bit here, a little bit there - but it was akin to living on bread crusts and water. A stale, hardtack diet could never replace the luxurious meal she could find in someone like the young lord or his samurai retainer. However, she couldn't betray her Alice so easily - even as her starvation was allowing her to slip through her metaphorical and manifested fingers.

And, Alice was slipping away. Recall, the aforementioned mistake, and the training done. To control multiple mindsets was a strenuous task; a juggling act that couldn't afford a single drop, yet someone had snatched two pieces out of the air before her. In Wonderland, there was no concept such as Chi; the Human Realm did not apply to the Insanity of Magic. There, it was easy to control and maintain her dying illusion, but here...

Not so much.

Her mental hold on Alice had slipped for, but an instant, yet that was long enough to do irreparable damage in her current state. By the time she had the energy to deal with it, she would have to struggle to regain her Alice as she were. By then, it would, in all likelihood, be too late to recover her. Already, she could see the wear, as she looked down upon Alice's hatless head; roots of red showing in the cascade of gold she'd so carefully built up. It wouldn't be long before the charade fell through...

Then... what?

Her stomach rumbled. She needed to eat. It wasn't too late. She could turn around, and sneak attack the Jiangshi at the cost of being attacked by the High Orc, the sister she had in the Jorougumo, and her Goblin lover. Not to mention, the unrivaled disdain of the elder stateswoman and the fostering of mistrust from the young lord; both of which would only serve to inconvenience Alice. She needed to eat, but, for the sake of her ambition, she couldn't be reckless.

No.

No, she had to make do, as she had been.

So, she did.

Lying Alice upon the loamy soil, sunkissed and windswept, the Cursed Sword in her stolen guise of a corporeal being would look upon her eldest pawn, so close to promotion, and lie with her. A one-sided affair, as the Mad Hatter slept; ignorant to the nigh-masturbatory molestation - fiingers ghosted over unblemished skin, as smooth and pale as porcelain; lips, plush and lavender, pulled gently upon lips, prim and bubblegum, in longing embrace; her thick tail wrapped around thin legs, as they met in the middle.

Yet, this affair was quick - a top off of the aforementioned bread crusts and water.

Despite the airs of passion, it was clinical and calculated. In minutes, it was over, and Carroll drew Alice into her arms, and resumed her journey home.

Her stomach grumbled, but the rumble was gone... for now.
Update out! But also, announcement!

There won't be an update until next weekend so y'all can take your time posting this round.


I refuse. I'mma post so fast, I post twice! XD

Actually might, though, depending on a potential collab with Azure and having a standalone post done for Alice.
ATTN: @Polaris North
Despite her face being buried in the toxic sludge, Scarlett's ears were above water, so to speak, and she was listening to the stranger. As Hector pulled on her shoulders in a futile bid to raise her head, he would be witness to the creeping crawl of iron sand pouring out of her shoulder, and formation a shoulder-mounted launcher with a series of gears and pulleys to interact with the chain links growing out of her exposed blood vessels, which were assisting in winding the thin veins into a thicker coil. Before Hector could do much else, the gears would be released and the built-up pressure unleashed to fire the coiled chain length from the static weapon platform.

The puesdo-spear whipped past his head - the wind pressure like that of a bullet - and a loud squelching sound would be heard, followed by, likely, Lapis's scream and Shavis's shock, as the blunt attack whiffed Keith's head - her intended target - and slammed into his solar plexus; the chains embedded in the man, and undulating, as if... swallowing.

"Hrm..." Scarlett grumbled, as she raised her head. "Sho yure leik meh, den? Shaffish, Lappiss, Heckdoor, hessa regic - hic~! - a regee - hic~! - rebodymaker! HIC~!" she drunkenly spat, turning around and slapping the drum over, as she ripped her chains back, so Keith could regenerate and prove her point.

"Ofufufu~!" Scarlett's drunken ojousama laugh was punctuated by her regenerating her arm, before forming a morph that turned her right hand into a bladed gauntlet - strangely enough, it appeared like an oversized paw of a cat with oversized nails. "Fite! HIC~! Fite! Fite!" she cackled, dropping to all fours, as iron sand formed into fluffy cat ears and whippy tail, as she shed her cloak.

"Nyahaha - hic~! - ha!!!" Scarlett laughed, showing that her canines had elongated into proper fangs, as the iron sand form sharp claws on her left hand fingers and her toes.

Her feral transformation seemed complete...

Poisoned, severely, Scarlett was in a state of crisis, and functioning on second personality, while she addressed the problems at hand.

In a snap, Shavis would remember something she was told before Scarlett was handed off to her:

"A final notation, Miss Namista. You weren't chosen at random for this task. This is an assignment you were exclusively chosen for. Inside that woman's head is a Creature from the Void, like a Malfested. A bridge between Miss Ishval and whatever put it there.

It took the form of a feral cat, for whatever reason, and we believe with your force of personality, you can assert Alpha Dominance over it, long enough to subdue it. Should she become a threat, neutralize her, and keep her bound until Miss Ishval regains control.

Lastly, you'll know this Malfested is free, if Miss Ishval forms a bladed gauntlet like an oversized cat's paw. Once it's complete, it's on your judgment on how to proceed.
"
It's not a super big deal, but I'm going to be changing the colours for Alice's Personalities to make it clear which is in control moving forward, since I can't do much to differentiate six voices elsewise.
From the outside looking in, it would seem that Alice was more than fine with allowing Hinami to rampage to her undead heart's content. However, to the more discerning, her lack of action had purpose; by riling up her Spirit Energy, mimicking a Human in the heat of passion, she was baiting Hinami to come and attack her - for no other reason that she was the most interesting opponent in the bunch, and she wanted that smoke.

However, she didn't want anything other than a one-on-one session with the feral zombie, because she was bound to a rather selfish code of honour.

It prevented her from fully focusing on battle, if she was supposed to be working alongside another, or others. It was part of the reason she lost control during the training; fighting as a part of a team, and not the spearhead of it, threw her out of alignment, and forced her to default to her oldest personality.

Fortunately, it seemed her baiting was successful and her concerns unfounded, as Hinami pivoted off Takeshi, and blindly charged to her position. Smirking, she stood up...

"Direct assault. It seems you are much like him..." she says, as she flashed forward a few steps, much like Shizuka, but she wasn't countering any attack. No, this was just forward movement to attack on her own accord - only to break that imperceptible stride, as Skarsneek suddenly launched from behind Hinami, and grappled her.

He was invading her duel space - damaging her focus, and causing her Energy to fluctuate as a result. Alice grit her teeth, as she watched Skarsneek's grapple flowed into Gringor's sudden binding attack, and her temper flared.

Her smartly baited fight was scooped out from underneath her by rash action and opportunists!

Annoyed, Alice pivoted on her heel. "Carroll, we're going home," she says, "There's nothing left here to be concerned about."

"Sounds like a plan," Carroll says, as she slithered from behind the tombstone, and scooped Alice up. "I think we'll make better time with my speed, and be back before noon."

Alice just grunted, and settled in Carroll's arms, as the Manifested Cursed Sword displayed what she's gained from possessing Shizuka and their training - the ability to manipulate her possessed slime into a semi-human form, in her case, a redhead Lamia. Carroll giggled, and set back off for Shizuyama, and whatever they'd do there.

She knew it was hopeless to argue the current Persona into staying - not that she would anyway.
© 2007-2025
BBCode Cheatsheet