KILL SIX BILLION DEMONS: hell yeah, punch that fuckin fish

The Something Awful Forums > The Finer Arts > BSS: Bisexual Super Son > KILL SIX BILLION DEMONS: hell yeah, punch that fuckin fish

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What is YISUN?
	Mother
	A lie we tell ourselves to have a purpose
	Bliss
	A paradox with no solution
	Father
	A strong female protagonist
	The weakest thing there is and the smallest crawling thing
	Creator
	Everything in this miserable and hellish existence
	A solution with no paradoxes

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Dog Kisser: Mar 30, 2005; But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.

Who What Now posted:

Hey man, you know what a heist needs?

Drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.

That's true of most things, I think!

# ? Mar 22, 2017 14:28

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# ? May 28, 2024 07:54

Reene: Aug 26, 2005

I decided to draw devils based on the PCs in our D&D campaign

this is Vretka

(everyone post ur submissions!!)

# ? Mar 22, 2017 20:51

berenzen: Jan 23, 2012

I can't draw worth poo poo, so I wrote a poem/song.

# ? Mar 22, 2017 22:13

Benson Cunningham: Dec 9, 2006; Chief of J.U.N.K.E.R. H.Q.

I tried to pick the least obvious devil for each role that still made sense, kinda play with assumptions a little bit. Here are two of my submissions.

Krem Krem Incanto Krem Perando
The Pale Mechanic

Jadis requested a devil be engineered, but her acolytes misheard. The result was Krem, a repellent pale demon that exudes rope like a spider, pisses sulfur that will ignite at the slightest touch, and is more cogs than flame. Jadis demanded he be destroyed, given back to the flame, but of course her acolytes got that one wrong too.

Vatis Lasah
The Golden Bruiser

Sure, the long betrayal is where most golds find their thrills. They convince their prey they've won only to tear victory from their grasp at the last moment. Vatis Lasah likes the tearing part. He likes it a lot. He's made it his mission to hunt down Geas knights and break them with his massive, black fists before they can complete their quests. But when he's run out of knights and he's in a pinch, anyone with bones will do. It's the cracking noise he likes most.

# ? Mar 23, 2017 02:20

The Lord of Hats: Aug 22, 2010; Hello, yes! Is being very good day for posting, no?

berenzen posted:

I can't draw worth poo poo, so I wrote a poem/song.

Neither can I, so I'm writing long overwrought entries from INGSVLD's perspective. The first one I won't be able to retrieve until comments actually go up, but here's what I just submitted:

INGSVLD posted:

While the works of 11 Ocean Crushes Falsehood With Unknowable Depths are widely held to be some of the finest and most influential works of philosophy penned by an angel, I must admit I am not able to hold him in quite so high regard as others do. It began, you see, when I came across an archive of his personal correspondence with Bhayirra Aesmani, a human contemporary, in which they argued the extent to which we are shaped by the fires from which we spring forth. One point, which 11 Ocean presented as a simple matter of fact, was that it was not possible for a devil to know true loyalty, born as they are of the hot black flame. While I cannot say that it is particularly *common* trait, I myself have seen a devil display devotion the likes of which would do a Geas knight proud.

I had business once, at the Grand Dragon's Bank, on behalf of the Coalition of Wax Drippers. As I waited for the clerk to transmit my request into the proper hands, I was greeted with a strange sight for so grand a place--a red devil, dressed in a boiler suit and quite thoroughly covered in soot, with a pallid devil sat upon his shoulder quite carefully. Curious, and more than a little bored, I asked him his story. He introduced himself as Ottokar and explained that he was here to make further payment on his debt.

You see, he was not a mechanic but a demolitionist, making his living blasting out old structures to make way for the new, as expertly engineered by his business partner, and close friend of countless years, his fellow red, Udo. Theirs was not a large firm, but it did well enough to make enemies, who sabotaged a routine demolition to arrange Udo's demise. With his friend's mask crumbling in his hands, Ottokar had become desperate, rushing to the nearest devilbinder he could find. Udo's life was saved, though considerably reduced--indeed, he was the pale devil who now sat perched upon Ottokar--but there was worse to come. Ottokar had little time for bargaining, you see, and the binder was a cruel businessman, charging a ruinous price--all Ottokar had he had to sell or mortgage to the Grand Dragon to be able to pay--and now he was ensnared in a web of debt that he could never escape. He walked into all of this knowingly, for the sake of his friend, and even now I could see he was more concerned with the state of his friend than his own well-being, going to great length to explain just how much Udo had retained his mechanical skill despite his current state. It was at this time that my clerk returned, and I had to proceed with my business, but that meeting has stuck with me as an example of how we are so much more than mere products of the Flames.

# ? Mar 23, 2017 05:04

BravestOfTheLamps: Oct 12, 2012; by FactsAreUseless; Lipstick Apathy

"The Perilous Chef." Pale demon. Insane, yet won his title for maneuvring a Demiurge of old into eating her own children for supper.

Looksee. Red demon. Level-headed and laid-back, face of the crew more for that than anything else.

Zeex. Green demon. His mask is an entire suit of armour, exceptionally. Powerful and sardonic, he's the muscle. Betrayed by humans, Zeex wishes mankind would have one neck so that he might grab it with his steel gauntlet.

Thacmanus. Red demon. Seemingly lazy and childish, Thacmanus is a cunning inventor and master of the cruel games that demons play.

Laiah. Blue demon. A willful aerialist whose grace belies deep sorrow.

BravestOfTheLamps fucked around with this message at 21:58 on Mar 23, 2017

# ? Mar 23, 2017 21:31

berenzen: Jan 23, 2012

My poem/bardic song for posterity

I once knew a Devil who danced with death
Green was his face, and rank his breath
He stole from creatures most fair and foul
And stole away 'fore he'd run afoul

Of the angels who did hunt him back
To banish him to the abyss of black
With wings of green and shattered scales
he flew away from a mask most pale

And Izcharoth, that was his name
That Acrobat, with proven fame
Now run along, for he comes soon
To steal thine life for hearing this tune.

-"The Acrobat", unknown Author

# ? Mar 23, 2017 21:44

Dog Kisser: Mar 30, 2005; But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.

BravestOfTheLamps posted:

"The Perilous Chef." Pale demon. Insane, yet won his title for maneuvring a Demiurge of old into eating her own children for supper.

Looksee. Red demon. Level-headed and laid-back, face of the crew more for that than anything else.

Zeex. Green demon. His mask is an entire suit of armour, exceptionally. Powerful and sardonic, he's the muscle. Betrayed by humans, Zeex wishes mankind would have one neck so that he might grasp it with his steel gauntlet.

Thacmanus. Red demon. Seemingly lazy and childish, Thacmanus is a cunning inventor and master of the cruel games that demons play.

Laiah. Blue demon. A willful aerialist whose grace belies deep sorrow.

...Seriously? You're not submitting a Clevin?

# ? Mar 23, 2017 21:54

flatluigi: Apr 23, 2008; here come the planes

Dog Kisser posted:

...Seriously? You're not submitting a Clevin?

he's referencing a different lovely webcomic for a (minor) change

# ? Mar 23, 2017 22:23

Cat Mattress: Jul 14, 2012; by Cyrano4747

BravestOfTheLamps posted:

Zeex wishes mankind would have one neck so that he might grab it with his steel gauntlet.

This music started playing as I read that.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H3FITeQ-uIg

# ? Mar 23, 2017 22:28

The Lord of Hats: Aug 22, 2010; Hello, yes! Is being very good day for posting, no?

And another one down! Acrobat and Face left to go. :toot:

INGSVLD posted:

No, I can understand why you think that I would be uncomfortable in this situation. After all, my quest is one that lends itself to long periods in solitude, after all. But this pursuit we now find ourselves on is not the first time that I have hunted with others, nor is it the first time I have travelled with those that I knew I would be fighting, in due course.

It was the great city of Issh, as I recall, in Mammon's domain, that was suffering from the presence of a great and terrible beast, so mighty, it was said, that it had consumed an angel whole, and that in this act of ferocity it had reached an enlightenment, manifested upon its brow as a great ley-stone. To rid himself of this beast that was too great for any one warrior to slay, the King ordered a great hunt, declaring that the hunters would decide among themselves to whom the beast's prize went.

There were many foolhardy souls that answered the call, brashly overestimating their own power, but among the throngs there were a few that stood out. I'll not describe all of them, of course, but one whose company I enjoyed in particular was a green devil, by the name of Azzaraqqa. He was something of a theologian, you see, and in his study he was particularly struck by the tale of Aesma and the Master of Aesthetic. In fact, he had reached the conclusion that violence was not merely the universal art, but the universal language, as well, and that all spoken and written tongues were crude facsimiles, incapable of imparting true meaning. Indeed, he looked forward not to the slaying of the beast, or for its prize in and of itself, but for the fight that all knew would ensue after the beast's death. To him, it would be a grand and beautiful symposium, in whose movements he would find not only beauty and further fluency in the Language, but a chance for a glimpse at the 'true' syllables of Royalty. As we grew closer to the beast, his eagerness only grew. These people in the crowd were coming to know each other, he said, and so the meaning their blows would impart would be that much more profound.

He was disappointed, in the end. While the beast was slain, at the cost of many a life, it quickly became apparent that the leystone was naught but a fanciful story, spread by the king to attract hunters without the need to pay them. It was at this point that I took my leave in search of a venture that might actually yield me some progress, so I was not present at the Fall of Issh, when the hunters descended upon the city with a great and terrible vengeance, so I do not know what became of Azzaraqqa, but I suspect that what he learned there fell short of the battle he had been hoping for.

# ? Mar 24, 2017 00:02

Poltergrift: Feb 16, 2014; "When I grow up, I'm gonna be a proper swordsman. One with clothes."

"Anointed Mother" Absalom Malom du Serebryakov is variably Sister Absalom, Mother Absalom, the Prophetess, the Alchemist, or otherwise, a verdant devil clad in the nun's vestments, holy symbols, divine tattoos, anointments et al. of a dozen different denominations. She is always there for souls in need of guidance, and with her all-shrouding clothing, many desperate denizens of Throne mistake her (and her surprisingly soothing voice) for a holy woman, capable of granting immortality to those loyal to her and her unnamed God. Unfortunately, she lacks the smooth-talking skill of a real cult leader, and is forced to rely on scripts to convince the disenfranchised and desperate to attend her and strip her of her names. Her skill with management and logistics is far superior to her charisma -- each of Absalom's New Churches has risen to become an economic juggernaut, transmuting the fanatical labor of devotion into massive social and material capital... until it encounters a serious external threat. Then, unable to handle the resultant crises of faith, the Church collapses or schisms, and Absalom is back on the road, refining her pitch and trying to find a theology that works.

In every incarnation, she carries a string of elderly, heavily-decorated and -reinforced jars, each containing a single withered piece of flesh, a withered figurine the size of a Barbie doll. She claims that these are the shriveled and pickled remains of various legendary figures -- princes, swordsmen, saints, masters of the Art... each with its atum, its soul-flame, still flickering inside, awaiting the day of resurrection. With each new church, she adds those who fall in her service to the chain. One such, a particularly large container, purportedly contains the remains of an ancient, prophetic monster; it is currently in the possession of the Grand Dragon, and she has been planning to steal it for years, lacking only a band of holy fools to do the legwork.

In public, she enjoys clear water and tasteless wafers, claiming to have transcended the urges of devils. In private, she enjoys cognac, sweetmeats, black pudding and writing (terrible) novels. She talks to her jars, but it is unknown whether she genuinely believes her own hype, and -- if so -- whether she is soothing her faithful or taunting her victims.

# ? Mar 24, 2017 03:02

girl dick energy: Sep 30, 2009; You think you have the wherewithal to figure out my puzzle vagina?

poo poo, I meant to enter.

# ? Mar 24, 2017 05:12

The Lord of Hats: Aug 22, 2010; Hello, yes! Is being very good day for posting, no?

PMush Perfect posted:

poo poo, I meant to enter.

There's like a week and a half to go. Start writing!

# ? Mar 24, 2017 09:15

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

Poltergrift posted:

"Anointed Mother" Absalom Malom du Serebryakov is variably Sister Absalom, Mother Absalom, the Prophetess, the Alchemist, or otherwise, a verdant devil clad in the nun's vestments, holy symbols, divine tattoos, anointments et al. of a dozen different denominations. She is always there for souls in need of guidance, and with her all-shrouding clothing, many desperate denizens of Throne mistake her (and her surprisingly soothing voice) for a holy woman, capable of granting immortality to those loyal to her and her unnamed God. Unfortunately, she lacks the smooth-talking skill of a real cult leader, and is forced to rely on scripts to convince the disenfranchised and desperate to attend her and strip her of her names. Her skill with management and logistics is far superior to her charisma -- each of Absalom's New Churches has risen to become an economic juggernaut, transmuting the fanatical labor of devotion into massive social and material capital... until it encounters a serious external threat. Then, unable to handle the resultant crises of faith, the Church collapses or schisms, and Absalom is back on the road, refining her pitch and trying to find a theology that works.

In every incarnation, she carries a string of elderly, heavily-decorated and -reinforced jars, each containing a single withered piece of flesh, a withered figurine the size of a Barbie doll. She claims that these are the shriveled and pickled remains of various legendary figures -- princes, swordsmen, saints, masters of the Art... each with its atum, its soul-flame, still flickering inside, awaiting the day of resurrection. With each new church, she adds those who fall in her service to the chain. One such, a particularly large container, purportedly contains the remains of an ancient, prophetic monster; it is currently in the possession of the Grand Dragon, and she has been planning to steal it for years, lacking only a band of holy fools to do the legwork.

In public, she enjoys clear water and tasteless wafers, claiming to have transcended the urges of devils. In private, she enjoys cognac, sweetmeats, black pudding and writing (terrible) novels. She talks to her jars, but it is unknown whether she genuinely believes her own hype, and -- if so -- whether she is soothing her faithful or taunting her victims.

this is slander

# ? Mar 24, 2017 12:58

Who What Now: Sep 10, 2006; by Azathoth

Avshalom posted:

this is slander

Right? It didn't mention chickens or your thousands of breasts even a single time.

# ? Mar 24, 2017 13:12

girl dick energy: Sep 30, 2009; You think you have the wherewithal to figure out my puzzle vagina?

Well, obviously. It wouldn't be much of a contest if Avshalom won all five categories.

# ? Mar 24, 2017 13:17

Pavlov: Oct 21, 2012; I've long been fascinated with how the alt-right develops elaborate and obscure dog whistles to try to communicate their meaning without having to say it out loud
Stepan Andreyevich Bandera being the most prominent example of that

I'm pretty sure avshalom couldn't be a devil anyway, because she's already the goddess giving the request for them.

# ? Mar 24, 2017 14:18

Poltergrift: Feb 16, 2014; "When I grow up, I'm gonna be a proper swordsman. One with clothes."

Avshalom posted:

this is slander

So that's where I got that name.

# ? Mar 24, 2017 20:50

stone cold: Feb 15, 2014

Who What Now posted:

Right? It didn't mention chickens or your thousands of breasts even a single time.

or keets or the ghost of Ariel Sharon

e: also vanya

# ? Mar 25, 2017 02:03

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

stone cold posted:

the ghost of Ariel Sharon

that's the prophesied doomsday monster whose pickled corpse i'm trying to retreive

# ? Mar 25, 2017 02:35

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

i will dig him up and gently caress all the flesh back onto those bones

# ? Mar 25, 2017 02:36

SpaceViking: Sep 2, 2011; Who put the stars in the sky? Coyote will say he did it himself, and it is not a lie.

Got mine sent in yesterday. Just a regular-rear end story though, no poem or drawing.

# ? Mar 25, 2017 05:29

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

Poltergrift posted:

So that's where I got that name.

lol i legit thought it was deliberate and was very flattered

# ? Mar 26, 2017 00:43

stone cold: Feb 15, 2014

Avshalom posted:

that's the prophesied doomsday monster whose pickled corpse i'm trying to retreive

fair enough

# ? Mar 26, 2017 02:22

Poltergrift: Feb 16, 2014; "When I grow up, I'm gonna be a proper swordsman. One with clothes."

Avshalom posted:

lol i legit thought it was deliberate and was very flattered

Well, I don't know you very well, but from what I've seen, it seems like an appropriate match of character and namesake.

# ? Mar 26, 2017 02:46

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

hey remember when vladok went nuts and allison grabbed a random devil's mask to throw onto him, afaik his mask broke, or her given that she apparently turned into a girl when she devolved, so is she wearing some random devil's face now? is that why she turned into a girl? and what happened to the devil whose mask she took? also how much of their identity has to do with the gem things in their foreheads instead of the actual features of the mask? like if you transplanted someone's gem to another person's mask would they get all their powers without having to change their appearance? that kind of looks like what yabalchoath did when she stole a bit of mammon's gem. anyway i'm invested. i care

# ? Mar 26, 2017 03:15

MikeJF: Dec 20, 2003

That mask was on the table. The devil was negotiating a replacement with it because his mask was getting old and gonna fall apart. Presumably he has to get another one.

Vladok's identity is kinda hosed up now because his mask shattered and a random one was thrown on, I think, she's less Vladok than if he'd just been downgraded in the normal way.

She turned into a girl because blues tend to be girls.

The bright spots aren't related to their identities at all, they're kinda like where they keep their magic power.

MikeJF fucked around with this message at 03:32 on Mar 26, 2017

# ? Mar 26, 2017 03:23

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

hey has yabalchoath's kill count been changed? i could have sworn it used to be "fifteen thousand slaves a day" and now it's fifteen. scrub!

# ? Mar 26, 2017 03:24

SpaceViking: Sep 2, 2011; Who put the stars in the sky? Coyote will say he did it himself, and it is not a lie.

Avshalom posted:

hey has yabalchoath's kill count been changed? i could have sworn it used to be "fifteen thousand slaves a day" and now it's fifteen. scrub!

I don't think it was ever fifteen thousand.

# ? Mar 26, 2017 03:50

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

i must have read it as that then. wishful thinking

# ? Mar 26, 2017 03:55

Digamma-F-Wau: Mar 22, 2016; It is curious and wants to accept all kinds of challenges

Stormy (short for the first sentence ("It was a dark and stormy night") of the very long book whose contents he was named after) and Brutus have known each other since they were both summoned as Pales. While Stormy is content to stay as a pale, Brutus has his sights set on Ebonhood and is currently gold. Stormy is very limber and gangly, making them an ideal Acrobat. Brutus doesn't feel he's fit for being a gold and misses when he could just bash peoples heads in as a Green rather than being paranoid over his finances (Said stresses just fuel Stormy's desire to stay pale). As the team's Bruiser, Brutus has picked up some martial arts to make up for the physical strength lost.

They both owe Oscar money and would rather not be here right now.

# ? Mar 26, 2017 04:13

Oxxidation: Jul 22, 2007

This was a fun way to spend an evening.

quote:

�Shinbiter�

�What joke is this?� a warrior might think, upon being accosted by this pale devil, and this moment of incredulity is what often leads to their annihilation. Three-eyed, six-legged and barely twice as long as a proper straight sword, the unassuming appearance of this maskless and voiceless creature belies an aggression that would make the mightiest of giants tremble. And indeed it has � the devil�s moniker was borne from its storied encounter with the Colossus of Yth, which had reduced the plains of its namesake to a gray and cratered wasteland decades past. Though the Colossus was twenty stories high and its armor ten handspans thick, the pale devil battered itself against its ankle for twenty days and twenty nights, without rest or interruption, though a single glancing blow from the Colossus did fling it the entire length of the plains. Again and again it attacked that one spot, and when on the twentieth night the armor finally broke, it crawled within and spent a further ten days tearing the giant apart from the inside out.

Like all of its kind, the Shinbiter is not inclined to conversation and seldom leaves witnesses to its deeds, so few can guess at what fuels its bottomless wrath. Since all devils are merely embers of the churning Black Flame, endlessly rekindled, some speculate that within its chitinous head it retains memory of a terrible wrong done to it in its past life, and is forever lashing out in mourning of a name and mask long lost.

��pulled old Ordo�s head right off! He had a neck so thick that this creature could scarcely get its legs around it, and yet it latched on tight and � pop! � off like a bleedin� bottletop! And it sure did bleed, ha ha. Then it stood up on its hindlegs and beat three more of us to death with the rest of the body. Ahh, had a sense a� humor, it did!

�Me? Ach, it caught me a glancin� blow and sent me into a cliffside. Woke up a day later to see me fellows pounded to mush and the devil long gone. I made a hearty breakfast of their remains and went on my way. I�ll see it again someday, eh? Life is long until it�s short. Bottoms up!�
- Krek Kantos, Belligerent Knight

Eveline Zejka Rosewater Golliwogg Aoi-Ue Lilikova

Every devil has its vices; the imp Eveline�s is eavesdropping. Slender, snaggle-toothed, and wild of hair and eye, this blue devil is the unseen torment of anyone in Throne who wish to conduct clandestine affairs. The city is riddled with crannies and byways and Eveline slips through them all, leaping across rooftops, slithering up drainpipes and sliding through doorways half her thickness, all in pursuit of whatever furtive quarry catches her gaze. No obstacle has yet successfully blocked her from the targets of her obsession.

From her shadowy aeries she has overhead confessions between politically disastrous lovers, leered at graphic threats made to guildmasters and all they held dear, and borne witness to a grand (and ill-fated) plot to rise up against Solomon David himself � and then promptly forgotten nearly all of it, because for Eveline, no secret can hold a candle to the thrill of hearing it spoken. Nonetheless, she�s also a drunk and an insufferable gossip, and many a business deal or nighttime tryst has ended in catastrophe due to the wagging of a certain azure tongue. The only trace she leaves behind is the scent of her beloved cinnamon-and-clove perfume, and its spice still lingers in the most improbable corners of the city.

�How about you tell me [how they found us]? The Tower of Stars is half a mile of sheer smooth gods-damned rock. We could barely talk for lack of air. Every door that had to be locked was locked. We had people inside keeping watch on every flight of stairs. Not a single hair out of place. Foolproof. Foolproof!

��although, now that I think on it, there was one odd thing. Whole chamber smelled like a drat bakery.�
- Preem Plinsky of the Lothly Conspiracy, shortly before his execution

Dogtooth Krzhizhanofsky Cincin Salvatore

A terrible division exists within this red devil�s mind, a monstrous intelligence forever straining against the more straightforward, brutish proclivities of his type. Nearly all reds are fond of violence, but while most would settle for simply picking a target and hitting it until it stops twitching, Dogtooth�s broken thoughts channel endless, abstract schemes for destruction. He lurks within a vast network of caves, and in his hermitude his mane has grown such that he looks like some phosphorescent fungus crawling along the ground. From this endless hair sprouts protuberances of spine and fang, and he snaps them off and scrawls his plans on the walls with them until they are worn to bonemeal. They continue to regrow, no matter how he breaks them.

Dogtooth�s madness means that his designs and drawings are warped such that not even he can describe what he creates, or why � but at the same time, it also renders his plans all the more potent, for no defense can hold for long against properly applied illogic. Pree Aesma forbid that he ever be allowed to concentrate on a single target for too long, for within his scrawlings lurks the blueprint for the perdition of all things.

��what followed was predictable. Lord Wildvane, who had fostered a kingdom from a mudhill and defeated five armies of five thousand men, balked at the devil�s warning and gazed upon the symbol that foretold his destruction. The resultant omens were, at first, expected enough. He would see the marking�s curve on the shield of a charging foe, or note its resemblance in the ripple of a glass bearing deadly poison. But as time went on, he saw the symbol in the curl of his wife�s lips, in the patterns of his city�s streets, in his own haggard and sleepless reflection. Driven to the end of his wits by paranoia in a mere six months� time, he leapt from the bridge of the very city he had spent his life fostering � and there in the water was the devil�s drawing, fast approaching to embrace him.�
- Excerpt from The Annulment of Yana, and Other Strange Tales

Anande Yusuf Apex-Krawczyk

The Gearspider, the Thousand-Fingered, the Chattering Beneath. Once, in a fit of whimsy, Gog-Agog sealed a devil in a barrel and left it in the ruins of Contresso, the City of Endless Rain. The devil spent a hundred years listening to the patter and tick of the drops against its confinement, and emerged quite mad. That madness persisted even as the devil shed his names and gathered his strength, and still he listens for that sound above all else, especially in the clicks of locks, gears, and other contrivances � as though, in his mind, he is forever escaping the Queen of Worms� prison.

Now a verdant devil, Anande resembles more than anything a great tangled cluster of arms, clustered with scale and feather, with his staring chatter-toothed face often obscured by those clutching, shining limbs. With his numerous hands he grabs hold of whatever devices he can find and unmakes them, rebuilds them, unmakes them again, always relishing in the click and snap of their parts joining and unjoining. His passing can be marked by the heaps of exotic junk he leaves in his wake, and the devices that are still functional have contributed to the prosperity or ruin of quite a few passersby. Anande�s accidental gifts and taciturn nature have resulted in a small but dedicated religion in his name. This sect leaves offerings of strong locks or complex machines to his altars, believing that, unless he is kept occupied by such gifts, the Gearspider�s obsession will drive him to disassemble the cosmos itself.

The Spider is a busy one
With many busy hands.
He hears a busy ticking sound
Beneath the blighted land.

So leave your tricky ticky bits
Their locks and bolts and screws
Or else he�ll crawl beneath the world
And pull the Wheel loose.
- Folklorist�s rhyme

Lady C�line Rigodon the Eighth

The sevenfold universe plays host to unimaginable sights of suffering and debauchery alike, and at the most extravagant examples of the latter can be found the Lady C�line, the Ardent Debutante, Mistress of Whispers. Always clad in the cutting edge of finery � at one party her petticoats took up the better part of a good-sized ballroom, and at another her hat was filled with unseen creatures that whispered the onlookers� secret regrets � and with a glass of something strong at hand, this gold devil�s command of dry wit, lascivious gossip, and affable charm immediately makes her the highlight of any upper-class gathering. She always arrives uninvited, but her tastes are so refined that some of the elite consider her appearance to be a blessing on their soirees.

Such people are exceptionally foolish, however, and more discerning hosts are known to treat her appearance with proper caution; Mother Om herself has ordered Lady C�line to be killed on sight. This is because she holds within her breast a lust for chaos unrivaled by her kind, and her golden tongue has engendered waves of destruction that have reduced entire estates to ash and then some. Her controversial political opinions at the notorious 919th Opalnight Ball in the Kingdom of Tur sparked off a war that raged for seventeen years and resulted in the demise of the royal family, the kingdom, and much of the surrounding continent. For knowledge is violence, and words are the blades through which it is expressed. The Lady C�line knows this better than most.

"One eyewitness reports as thus:

�It was a devil, it was, one a� them gold ones that always looks like they ought to be at a party or a pulpit. Twice as tall as a man and with her hair all bound up in gold thread. Her clothes were burning, and her hair was burning, and she had a wineglass that was burning like a torch, but she just danced and laughed and looked to be having a grand old time. And she chattered all the while, couldn�t make out what she said, but when she started to talk the fire �round her leapt even higher and the wind started to blow, and the crows started to rip at all the dead bodies and the live ones too, which is when I ran off. It was like she was talking to the riots �emselves. Like she was coaxing �em on.��
- An Account of the Tasquerson Riots

Oxxidation fucked around with this message at 20:12 on Mar 27, 2017

# ? Mar 27, 2017 04:23

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

can any colour devil go ebon or is it just for blues

# ? Mar 28, 2017 01:55

Begemot: Oct 14, 2012; The One True Oden

Avshalom posted:

can any colour devil go ebon or is it just for blues

Ebon is the just the most powerful color.

# ? Mar 28, 2017 02:02

ElMaligno: Dec 31, 2004; Be Gay!
Do Crime!

The preview is amazing.

# ? Mar 28, 2017 02:15

Pureauthor: Jul 8, 2010; ASK ME ABOUT KISSING A GHOST

Avshalom posted:

can any colour devil go ebon or is it just for blues

Theoretically any Devil can move up and down the whole spectrum from Pale to Ebon.

But I figure no one wants to make deals with Gold Devils unless they really know what they're doing.

# ? Mar 28, 2017 02:19

Reene: Aug 26, 2005

ElMaligno posted:

The preview is amazing.

Seriously, drat.

yesss blackspeech is back

# ? Mar 28, 2017 02:28

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

so their personalities change as their masks change colour and if they become more powerful they automatically get more evil, while if they want to be a nice gay girl they have to remain a little blue bug

# ? Mar 28, 2017 02:31

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# ? May 28, 2024 07:54

Avshalom: Feb 14, 2012; by Lowtax

that sucks! i want to be a pale devil

# ? Mar 28, 2017 02:33

The Something Awful Forums > The Finer Arts > BSS: Bisexual Super Son > KILL SIX BILLION DEMONS: hell yeah, punch that fuckin fish

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