Black Crusade - Daddy Issues
The Further Adventures of Slaanesh's Lonely Hearts Club Warband - but first some discussion the Warhammer 40K mythology, and in particular the various incredibly bone-headed decisions by the Emperor of Mankind that made the Horus Heresy inevitable. Things like abducting Angron from the side of the slave army he had lead to a final stand against their oppressors, and not explaining to Magnus why the Warp was so dangerous, and not telling Horus that he was returning to Terra to oversee the creation of an interstellar Webway. All stuff to be filed under 'Tragedies that could be averted with a five-minute conversation'
Rold Dundee OOC: We need a big poster of the civil war, with the caption 'This is why you should talk to your children'
Cassius, on why he has turned his back on the the Imperium of Man.
Cassius OOC: I like the people, I just hate the government.... Oh god, I'm playing Lenin.
GM: I assume you mean the Russian, not John.
Briefing Cassius on the events of the previous session, such as giving Garath the Tyrant's Cord
Jrska: And he didn't try anything, and give us an excuse to kill him for his treachery!
Cassius: *sarcastically* Gosh, I wonder how he became so influential.
Cog OOC: 'I'm the nice kind of evil - I'll only stab you in the face.'
The New Mutant Army, while sizeable, is still grossly insufficient to crew a starship.
Aladar van Rijn: We could just let them breed.
Cog: That might take a while.
Cassius: And it depends on them being compatible.
Jrska: *perks up* My lord, I will make it a priority to check their anatomy.
Cassius: Why am I not surprised.
Among Jrska's purchases - make-up, beauty product, fabric, sewing tools, etc, but not just for herself. After all, they ARE going to a party.
Jrska: I look good in anything, but YOU three...
Cassius wants to acquire a cadre of minor psykers - to expand his repertoire of powers. His player misses the roll by 1.
Shopkeeper: If only you'd been here five minutes earlier!
GM: I'll let you have them but I'll keep it as a plot point that...
Cog: Something is off about them.
Cassius OOC: That's ominous.
Sadly, the GM disallows one of the many abuses of the Black Crusade rules - a harpoon gun with a 100-round ammo belt.
Rold Dundee OOC: Four hundred rounds to reload.
Jrska OOC: To nip down to Bunnings for a new roll of fence palings.
The Khornate mercs that deliver the New Mutant Army to the Chains of Judgement do have... interesting... news to impart. Apparently, one of our tech-adepts redirected their shuttle to another part of the ship. This is news to us, since we thought we'd already killed all the tech-adepts on board. Naturally, we play innocent, and hurry off to interrogate the nameless navigator about what has been happening in our absence. Apparently 'Father' has awoken. And Father is the ship's chief engineer, and he's currently converting Mother's cannibal tribe into servitors, while the various tech-adepts cybernetically slaved to his will attempt to repair the ship. Our delivery of 6000 mutants was promptly commandeered.
Jrska: Yoohoo honey, we're home.
Nameless Navigator: Rest assured they're being put to good use.
Cog: What's this green stuff we're eating?
GM: The navigator quite old and covered with feathers
Rold Dundee OOC: He got into a pillowfight earlier.
Cog protests that he should be the one running the ship.
Surviving Cannibal: I feel sorry for you
Cog: Wait until you see my bill.
Surviving Cannibal: Wait until Father finds out you want his job.
Cog OOC: Hungry Hungry Hippos in Space
Cassius OOC: I'm glad they haven't made THAT game into a movie.
Cassius: I going to kill Father.
Jrska: Or negotiate a peaceful compromise?
Cassius: I plan to have a pointed conversation. With lots of punctuation.
Jrska: In his torso? oh, sorry, that would be punctures.
Finding some of the converted cannibals attempting to repair warp-damage to some of the corridors, where the original crew were fused into the metal. Hacking into their brainchips allows us to find the safe route to Father, although bluffing our way past the heavily armed security servitors does prove necessary.
Cassius: I'm not annoyed yet.
Jrska: Well, technically we haven't lost any crew this way
Cassius: That's why I'm not annoyed
Jrska: Trying to sand somebody's face off the floor panelling, are they?
Rold Dundee OOC: I love that we're getting our map from the Roombas.
Cog OOC: I've never been electrocuted by a Roomba... Apart from that one time
Jrska: You wanted a plasma cannon, didn't you?
Cog: Not to the face!
Jrska: We can always use Aladar as a distraction. His outfit is bound to confuse their optical sensors.
The Enginseer 'Father' is eventually convinced that Cassius is an acceptable Shipmaster, although he's suspicious enough to radio off a message to the nearest Inquisitorial outpost. Given that it's lightyears away, we're not overly concerned. 'Father' is also suspicious about having a mutant crew, and Jrska's presence on board, but Jrska convinces him that its all for purposes of disguise on mutant-held planets. Cassius claims that Cog will act as liaison between the mechanical and organic components of the ship, and Cog assures the Enginseer that Jrska is the ship's new seneschal and spiritual advisor.
Jrska: Spiritual Advisor. I like that - I'll have to have that put on my door.
Along with Morale Officer and Chief Medical Officer.
Cassius OOC : 'Turn your head and cough'
'Father' invades Jrska's personal space - like she cares - and spits out reams of dot-matrix printout. It's mostly a list of everything on the ship that needs repairing.
GM: There's also a priority order of depilatory cream for the seneschal.
Jrska: :p
Cog: But when the fur grows back she'll be itchy and take it out on everyone.
And off to the Ragged Helix. Jrska assigns rooms and assistants to everybody. Cassius gets the most professional. Rold gets a few likely security types, but Jrska is careful to avoid anybody that could be the nucleus of a Khornate warrior lodge. She, of course, picks her own.
Jrska: Interesting skin texture you have there. Are you like that all over? OK, you, you, that cute one hiding down the back, and Mister Tripod there.
Aladar: Hey! What about me? Do I get cute ones too?
Jrska: Nope. You do get the most sycophantic though.
And, of course, Jrska keeps her promise to Aladar, about showing him how grateful she is - turning up at his stateroom with a nice romantic meal and chilled bottle of amasec. For starters. She rapidly guilt trips him into accepting her advances, although her new prosthetic Pheromone Emitters certainly help, especially in a confined space.
Jrska: Is it because I'm a mutant? *puppydog eyes* It's OK, we can do it with the lights off.
Aladar soon succumbs. Leaving him passed out, Jrska strolls off whistling a happy tune, and turns to her attendant servo-skull, Partybot 2000. The one with all the night vision cameras.
Jrska: Did you get all that?
Minutes later her next target, Cog, is more resistant to her charms, despite a different ploy.
Jrska: As chief medical officer it's my duty to know all about your anatomy. I know you cogboys are a bit sensitive about your meat-flesh, but I promise I won't tell anybody. Cross my heart *crosses the wrong side of her chest*
Then there's the problem of the surviving cannibals, who gave their fealty to Cassius and are somewhat aggrieved that he wasn't around to protect them when Father woke up. He solves this problem with admirable callousness, telling them there's plentiful food in the cyberconversion labs, and to go line up outside. A few more acts of treachery like this and the Chaos Gods may well reward him with his first mutation. Morphic resonance and his power armour's history being what they are, that first mutation will likely be wings. Appropriate, given his Storm Crow origins and Extinction's Angel title whenever Jrska introduces him.
Jrska OOC: Sire? You appear to be growing feathers.
Cassius OOC: POMF! Wingboner!
Aladar: I'm bored
Jrska: *leers* I can fix that.
Cassius OOC: I bet you can.
Jrska: It's my duty as morale officer. Please ignore any noises you here coming for Captain Aladar's room. I was going to work slowly, but if he's bored and we have five weeks... I'm sure I can have him in a gimp suit with his face between my thighs before then.
Rold finds a broken space marine power sword in the corridor outside his quarters. Despite the repercussions of the last time he picked up a strange sword, he picks this up too. He doesn't bother telling anybody about the discovery, either.
Cassius OOC: 'I picked it up to see if anything bad would happen'. There's a quote for you.
Jrska OOC: And epitaph, probably.
Rold Dundee OOC: I've got as many Slaaneshi advances as Khornate.
Jrska OOC: Makes sense. Poor impulse control is a feature of both.
At the Ragged Helix, we are challenged by a pirate vessal Aladar recognises - it was one of many that used to harass his fleet.
Aladar: Don't you remember me?
Pirate Captain: Remember you? Why would I remember the wart on some Nurglite's arse?
Jrska: Nice one, I'll have to remember that. May I address them?
Cog: Did you just say address or undress?
Jrska: *shrugs* Both work for me
Cassius OOC: A little from column A, a little from Column B.
The pirate is clearly shocked when Jrska sticks her head in front of the holocamera, and nervously escorts us to Prince Pseudanor's domain in the depths of the asteroid belt - a lavish and well-armed palace.
Jrska: Let's walk in like we own the place
Jrska: May I advise you, Lord? Aloofness is entirely appropriate for you here. Just pretend that nothing here impresses you.
Cassius: That will not be difficult
Cassius is also unimpressed by the assorted debris from previous evening's debauch.
Cassius: Shows a lack of discipline
Jrska: Oh, I'm all about discipline. Isn't that right Aladar, darling?
Cassius' player: You're enjoying this far too much.
Me: Yes, yes I am. XD
But the palace IS the most lavish Jrska has seen outside the Inner Vortex and the demonworld Pandemonium, where she grew up.
Jrska: Also known as the Party Planet. For lightyears around you can hear the DOOF DOOF DOOF.
The Slaaneshi pirate's court is swarming with a throng of libertines, freaks, and even a few demons, none of whom seem impressed by the frankly scruffy warband that just arrived in a wreck of a ship. But we do find out why Pseudanor sent those mercs after Jrska, demanding she attend his court. Since it's her beloved twin brother under a new name.
Jrska: *squees like a schoolgirl and rushes forward, until she's blocked by his bodyguards.*
Me: (to GM) You're just blocking me so I won't squick you with my intended greeting, aren't you?
GM: Yes.
Aladar: Holy crap, did that guy just eat a bicycle?
Jrska: Don't worry sweety, you'll see a lot worse than that around here. Or better.
Jrska: Hey cutie. Ever done it with someone that can lick their own eyebrows?
Bodyguard: Yes.
Jrska: Great! You know what to expect. I'll see you upstairs in 30 minutes - bring some friends.
Turns out Pseudanor is a bit upset with Jrska - mostly the way she went missing for 200 years and never sent any postcards. Also turning up again with such disreputably Khornate-leaning individuals like Rold is a bad sign. He intends to test her, and her associates, to see if she is still worthy of his support. Naturally, there will be six tests - six being the number of Slaanesh - based around Greed, Gluttony, Carnality, etc.
Pseudanor: I am not convinced you are the person you were, sister.
Jrska: Five minutes alone and I'll prove it.
Pseudanor: That is just ONE of the tests.
Cassius: Six Sins?
Pseudanor: Six Delights.
Cassius: Six Delights, then. If you betray us, you will taste the seventh - Wrath.
Jrska volunteers Aladar for the first test. After all -
Jrska: This man was once a Rogue Trader - he risked his entire fleet against the minions of the Corpse-Emperor, in a blind desire for yet more profit - and LOST. Can any of you deny he embodies the finest standards of Greed?
His opponent will be Pseudanor's accountant, who wagers the locale of one of the legendary Treasure Dens in a simple game of chance. Since betting his life or eyes is too passée, Aladar promptly bets the ship. The ship isn't his, but Jrska points out that being so blinded by greed that he'll risk Cassius' wrath can only be a GOOD thing. Happily, he wins the first toss, and his opponent suggests a second bet - the combinations for the treasure den defences. Instead, Aladar demands six years service. And THIS roll ends up a draw. Jrska manages to talk them and the crowd into a stylish compromise - six years service, at the end of which he'll get the ship. As Cassius points out, if the ship is lost in those six years, the accountant's incompetence will be a contributing factor. He agrees.
Jrska: Three cheers for the contestants!
Cassius: Six.
Jrska: Good point.
Next up, Gluttony. An eating contest against the giant heaving mound of flesh that was eating a bicycle earlier. Jrska turns her attention to the space marine psyker - after all, his biological engineering will give him certain advantages. Superhuman toughness, for one. And acidic saliva that should kill any food that tries to fight back.
Cassius: You wish to test your gluttony against the genetek secrets of the Dark Age of Technology? Sir, I salute you.
Plukus: Round one - The fried chicken!
Jrska: A Subjutator Titan - aka the Slaaneshi Death-Chicken
GM: That'll be the last round - the OTHER fried chicken XD
By the sixth round they've escalated to live food - in this case, Ravenous Face-biter Squigs.
Cassius: I've fought planetary campaigns like this... the trick is to get the upper and lower lip at the same time.
Then on to the truly inedible, like a barrel of fuel oil.
Rold Dundee: Chaser to the squig.
Cassius: Haven't done this since I was a scout.
Jrska: Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!
But it's when they step thing up to whole human - two slaves dragged from from the audience, that Jrska steps in to assist. She reprimands the glutton Plukus for wanting to eat human raw. Any true sensualist would prepare the meal first. Her intention is actually to give Cassius' digestion a few minutes to recover, but instead Cassius loses patience, lifts up the next course, and sprays acidic spit over his face. Which indeed eats away the flesh. Such callousness is rewarded by the gods with mutation - a large pair of bird wings.
Jrska: Must be all that fried chicken. Ladies, Gentlemen & Sacred Hermaphrodites! I give you Extinction's Angel!
Rold: I wonder how they're going to keep escalating this.
Jrska: Demonmeat. Eat the deamonette!
Demonette: You only had to ask....
Or possibly auto-cannibalism? Happily, they don't have to - Cassius resorts to psychic disciplines for the next round, with the unfortunate - or fortunate - side effect of instantly putrefying all food in the room. Thus is too much for Plukus, who loses the L and the contest. Next up, Carnality!
Jrska: *bouncing up and down* Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!
Me: How about a song contest? I'll sing the complete Doug Anthony All Stars catalogue, and you can assume I win. Necrophilia, bestiality, unbirthing...
Jrska: *sings excerpts from the relevant songs*
Cassius' player: Open with World's Best Kisser, for that line...
Jrska: *sings* I only kissed one girl before, my Grandma, on the kitchen floor, she dribbled and grinned, and said 'hey kid, you taught me things your Grandpa never did'.
Me: And break it up with some Tom Lehrer, and the Ballad of Eskimo Nell.
Jrska: *sings* Stories of tortures, used by debauchers, lurid, licentious, and vile, make me smile. Novels that pander, to my taste for candour, give me a pleasure sublime, let's face it, I love slime.
But instead of Black Crusade - the Musical, Jrska faces a more ordinary test of her carnal appetites. Her opponent warns her that one one other person has survived her boudoir - Jrska's brother. Jrska gives him a delighted grin and two thumbs up, which he briefly returns. That's the joyful pervert she knows and loves.
Jrska: Even if I don't survive it'll be worth it.
GM: We'll draw a discrete curtain over the scene
Jrska: Boooooooo!
Thanks to her patron's Mark, the pheromone emitters, and sheer awesomeness, Jrska has such a high charisma she can't fail the first seven rounds of the test. Mostly it's swapping tips and discussing her brother.
Jrska: He makes the cutest noises when you do this.
But they do become increasingly extreme and strenuous.
Jrska OOC: Lucky for me I'm female and therefore multiply orgasmic.
GM: The courtiers listen with increasingly interested and appalled expressions, but all you see are the contestants' heads sticking out from between the curtains, when they request more supplies.
Jrska: Bring me another penguin, this one's busted!
It all climaxes with Jrska's scream of triumph, and her challenger being helped to a chair and fanned down. The chamber itself, somewhat resembling the hotel room from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, is briefly considered as a museum piece to educate future generations, before they remove the entire chamber as is and dispatch it towards the heart of the Vortex so it can be closer to Slaanesh.
Jrska takes the time to change into something black and slinky for the next challenge - trading insults. Alas, her first plan of attack - getting her opponent to agree that Slaanesh is the youngest of the Chaos Gods, then demolishing that premise on the grounds that living things, even plants, have evolved insanely extravagant displays just for a chance to fuck since before there was even any intelligent life in the Universe - backfires when her opponent agrees. After that it rapidly degenerates into comments about Jrska's vaguely canine appearance, and then to criticism of each other's sexual habits.
Jrska: If you think I spend all my time on my back, you need an education in doggy-style
Jrska: I must compliment you on your understanding of Slaanesh. It shows an insight so concentrated, so pure... that one might almost mistake you for a virgin.
Opponent: Being open to all experience does not require me to open my legs for anybody. One can find favour with the Prince of Pleasure by exploring a single aspect in all detail-
Jrska: Oh,you're admitting you're monogamous then?
Rold Dundee OOC: We need a big poster of the civil war, with the caption 'This is why you should talk to your children'
Cassius, on why he has turned his back on the the Imperium of Man.
Cassius OOC: I like the people, I just hate the government.... Oh god, I'm playing Lenin.
GM: I assume you mean the Russian, not John.
Briefing Cassius on the events of the previous session, such as giving Garath the Tyrant's Cord
Jrska: And he didn't try anything, and give us an excuse to kill him for his treachery!
Cassius: *sarcastically* Gosh, I wonder how he became so influential.
Cog OOC: 'I'm the nice kind of evil - I'll only stab you in the face.'
The New Mutant Army, while sizeable, is still grossly insufficient to crew a starship.
Aladar van Rijn: We could just let them breed.
Cog: That might take a while.
Cassius: And it depends on them being compatible.
Jrska: *perks up* My lord, I will make it a priority to check their anatomy.
Cassius: Why am I not surprised.
Among Jrska's purchases - make-up, beauty product, fabric, sewing tools, etc, but not just for herself. After all, they ARE going to a party.
Jrska: I look good in anything, but YOU three...
Cassius wants to acquire a cadre of minor psykers - to expand his repertoire of powers. His player misses the roll by 1.
Shopkeeper: If only you'd been here five minutes earlier!
GM: I'll let you have them but I'll keep it as a plot point that...
Cog: Something is off about them.
Cassius OOC: That's ominous.
Sadly, the GM disallows one of the many abuses of the Black Crusade rules - a harpoon gun with a 100-round ammo belt.
Rold Dundee OOC: Four hundred rounds to reload.
Jrska OOC: To nip down to Bunnings for a new roll of fence palings.
The Khornate mercs that deliver the New Mutant Army to the Chains of Judgement do have... interesting... news to impart. Apparently, one of our tech-adepts redirected their shuttle to another part of the ship. This is news to us, since we thought we'd already killed all the tech-adepts on board. Naturally, we play innocent, and hurry off to interrogate the nameless navigator about what has been happening in our absence. Apparently 'Father' has awoken. And Father is the ship's chief engineer, and he's currently converting Mother's cannibal tribe into servitors, while the various tech-adepts cybernetically slaved to his will attempt to repair the ship. Our delivery of 6000 mutants was promptly commandeered.
Jrska: Yoohoo honey, we're home.
Nameless Navigator: Rest assured they're being put to good use.
Cog: What's this green stuff we're eating?
GM: The navigator quite old and covered with feathers
Rold Dundee OOC: He got into a pillowfight earlier.
Cog protests that he should be the one running the ship.
Surviving Cannibal: I feel sorry for you
Cog: Wait until you see my bill.
Surviving Cannibal: Wait until Father finds out you want his job.
Cog OOC: Hungry Hungry Hippos in Space
Cassius OOC: I'm glad they haven't made THAT game into a movie.
Cassius: I going to kill Father.
Jrska: Or negotiate a peaceful compromise?
Cassius: I plan to have a pointed conversation. With lots of punctuation.
Jrska: In his torso? oh, sorry, that would be punctures.
Finding some of the converted cannibals attempting to repair warp-damage to some of the corridors, where the original crew were fused into the metal. Hacking into their brainchips allows us to find the safe route to Father, although bluffing our way past the heavily armed security servitors does prove necessary.
Cassius: I'm not annoyed yet.
Jrska: Well, technically we haven't lost any crew this way
Cassius: That's why I'm not annoyed
Jrska: Trying to sand somebody's face off the floor panelling, are they?
Rold Dundee OOC: I love that we're getting our map from the Roombas.
Cog OOC: I've never been electrocuted by a Roomba... Apart from that one time
Jrska: You wanted a plasma cannon, didn't you?
Cog: Not to the face!
Jrska: We can always use Aladar as a distraction. His outfit is bound to confuse their optical sensors.
The Enginseer 'Father' is eventually convinced that Cassius is an acceptable Shipmaster, although he's suspicious enough to radio off a message to the nearest Inquisitorial outpost. Given that it's lightyears away, we're not overly concerned. 'Father' is also suspicious about having a mutant crew, and Jrska's presence on board, but Jrska convinces him that its all for purposes of disguise on mutant-held planets. Cassius claims that Cog will act as liaison between the mechanical and organic components of the ship, and Cog assures the Enginseer that Jrska is the ship's new seneschal and spiritual advisor.
Jrska: Spiritual Advisor. I like that - I'll have to have that put on my door.
Along with Morale Officer and Chief Medical Officer.
Cassius OOC : 'Turn your head and cough'
'Father' invades Jrska's personal space - like she cares - and spits out reams of dot-matrix printout. It's mostly a list of everything on the ship that needs repairing.
GM: There's also a priority order of depilatory cream for the seneschal.
Jrska: :p
Cog: But when the fur grows back she'll be itchy and take it out on everyone.
And off to the Ragged Helix. Jrska assigns rooms and assistants to everybody. Cassius gets the most professional. Rold gets a few likely security types, but Jrska is careful to avoid anybody that could be the nucleus of a Khornate warrior lodge. She, of course, picks her own.
Jrska: Interesting skin texture you have there. Are you like that all over? OK, you, you, that cute one hiding down the back, and Mister Tripod there.
Aladar: Hey! What about me? Do I get cute ones too?
Jrska: Nope. You do get the most sycophantic though.
And, of course, Jrska keeps her promise to Aladar, about showing him how grateful she is - turning up at his stateroom with a nice romantic meal and chilled bottle of amasec. For starters. She rapidly guilt trips him into accepting her advances, although her new prosthetic Pheromone Emitters certainly help, especially in a confined space.
Jrska: Is it because I'm a mutant? *puppydog eyes* It's OK, we can do it with the lights off.
Aladar soon succumbs. Leaving him passed out, Jrska strolls off whistling a happy tune, and turns to her attendant servo-skull, Partybot 2000. The one with all the night vision cameras.
Jrska: Did you get all that?
Minutes later her next target, Cog, is more resistant to her charms, despite a different ploy.
Jrska: As chief medical officer it's my duty to know all about your anatomy. I know you cogboys are a bit sensitive about your meat-flesh, but I promise I won't tell anybody. Cross my heart *crosses the wrong side of her chest*
Then there's the problem of the surviving cannibals, who gave their fealty to Cassius and are somewhat aggrieved that he wasn't around to protect them when Father woke up. He solves this problem with admirable callousness, telling them there's plentiful food in the cyberconversion labs, and to go line up outside. A few more acts of treachery like this and the Chaos Gods may well reward him with his first mutation. Morphic resonance and his power armour's history being what they are, that first mutation will likely be wings. Appropriate, given his Storm Crow origins and Extinction's Angel title whenever Jrska introduces him.
Jrska OOC: Sire? You appear to be growing feathers.
Cassius OOC: POMF! Wingboner!
Aladar: I'm bored
Jrska: *leers* I can fix that.
Cassius OOC: I bet you can.
Jrska: It's my duty as morale officer. Please ignore any noises you here coming for Captain Aladar's room. I was going to work slowly, but if he's bored and we have five weeks... I'm sure I can have him in a gimp suit with his face between my thighs before then.
Rold finds a broken space marine power sword in the corridor outside his quarters. Despite the repercussions of the last time he picked up a strange sword, he picks this up too. He doesn't bother telling anybody about the discovery, either.
Cassius OOC: 'I picked it up to see if anything bad would happen'. There's a quote for you.
Jrska OOC: And epitaph, probably.
Rold Dundee OOC: I've got as many Slaaneshi advances as Khornate.
Jrska OOC: Makes sense. Poor impulse control is a feature of both.
At the Ragged Helix, we are challenged by a pirate vessal Aladar recognises - it was one of many that used to harass his fleet.
Aladar: Don't you remember me?
Pirate Captain: Remember you? Why would I remember the wart on some Nurglite's arse?
Jrska: Nice one, I'll have to remember that. May I address them?
Cog: Did you just say address or undress?
Jrska: *shrugs* Both work for me
Cassius OOC: A little from column A, a little from Column B.
The pirate is clearly shocked when Jrska sticks her head in front of the holocamera, and nervously escorts us to Prince Pseudanor's domain in the depths of the asteroid belt - a lavish and well-armed palace.
Jrska: Let's walk in like we own the place
Jrska: May I advise you, Lord? Aloofness is entirely appropriate for you here. Just pretend that nothing here impresses you.
Cassius: That will not be difficult
Cassius is also unimpressed by the assorted debris from previous evening's debauch.
Cassius: Shows a lack of discipline
Jrska: Oh, I'm all about discipline. Isn't that right Aladar, darling?
Cassius' player: You're enjoying this far too much.
Me: Yes, yes I am. XD
But the palace IS the most lavish Jrska has seen outside the Inner Vortex and the demonworld Pandemonium, where she grew up.
Jrska: Also known as the Party Planet. For lightyears around you can hear the DOOF DOOF DOOF.
The Slaaneshi pirate's court is swarming with a throng of libertines, freaks, and even a few demons, none of whom seem impressed by the frankly scruffy warband that just arrived in a wreck of a ship. But we do find out why Pseudanor sent those mercs after Jrska, demanding she attend his court. Since it's her beloved twin brother under a new name.
Jrska: *squees like a schoolgirl and rushes forward, until she's blocked by his bodyguards.*
Me: (to GM) You're just blocking me so I won't squick you with my intended greeting, aren't you?
GM: Yes.
Aladar: Holy crap, did that guy just eat a bicycle?
Jrska: Don't worry sweety, you'll see a lot worse than that around here. Or better.
Jrska: Hey cutie. Ever done it with someone that can lick their own eyebrows?
Bodyguard: Yes.
Jrska: Great! You know what to expect. I'll see you upstairs in 30 minutes - bring some friends.
Turns out Pseudanor is a bit upset with Jrska - mostly the way she went missing for 200 years and never sent any postcards. Also turning up again with such disreputably Khornate-leaning individuals like Rold is a bad sign. He intends to test her, and her associates, to see if she is still worthy of his support. Naturally, there will be six tests - six being the number of Slaanesh - based around Greed, Gluttony, Carnality, etc.
Pseudanor: I am not convinced you are the person you were, sister.
Jrska: Five minutes alone and I'll prove it.
Pseudanor: That is just ONE of the tests.
Cassius: Six Sins?
Pseudanor: Six Delights.
Cassius: Six Delights, then. If you betray us, you will taste the seventh - Wrath.
Jrska volunteers Aladar for the first test. After all -
Jrska: This man was once a Rogue Trader - he risked his entire fleet against the minions of the Corpse-Emperor, in a blind desire for yet more profit - and LOST. Can any of you deny he embodies the finest standards of Greed?
His opponent will be Pseudanor's accountant, who wagers the locale of one of the legendary Treasure Dens in a simple game of chance. Since betting his life or eyes is too passée, Aladar promptly bets the ship. The ship isn't his, but Jrska points out that being so blinded by greed that he'll risk Cassius' wrath can only be a GOOD thing. Happily, he wins the first toss, and his opponent suggests a second bet - the combinations for the treasure den defences. Instead, Aladar demands six years service. And THIS roll ends up a draw. Jrska manages to talk them and the crowd into a stylish compromise - six years service, at the end of which he'll get the ship. As Cassius points out, if the ship is lost in those six years, the accountant's incompetence will be a contributing factor. He agrees.
Jrska: Three cheers for the contestants!
Cassius: Six.
Jrska: Good point.
Next up, Gluttony. An eating contest against the giant heaving mound of flesh that was eating a bicycle earlier. Jrska turns her attention to the space marine psyker - after all, his biological engineering will give him certain advantages. Superhuman toughness, for one. And acidic saliva that should kill any food that tries to fight back.
Cassius: You wish to test your gluttony against the genetek secrets of the Dark Age of Technology? Sir, I salute you.
Plukus: Round one - The fried chicken!
Jrska: A Subjutator Titan - aka the Slaaneshi Death-Chicken
GM: That'll be the last round - the OTHER fried chicken XD
By the sixth round they've escalated to live food - in this case, Ravenous Face-biter Squigs.
Cassius: I've fought planetary campaigns like this... the trick is to get the upper and lower lip at the same time.
Then on to the truly inedible, like a barrel of fuel oil.
Rold Dundee: Chaser to the squig.
Cassius: Haven't done this since I was a scout.
Jrska: Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!
But it's when they step thing up to whole human - two slaves dragged from from the audience, that Jrska steps in to assist. She reprimands the glutton Plukus for wanting to eat human raw. Any true sensualist would prepare the meal first. Her intention is actually to give Cassius' digestion a few minutes to recover, but instead Cassius loses patience, lifts up the next course, and sprays acidic spit over his face. Which indeed eats away the flesh. Such callousness is rewarded by the gods with mutation - a large pair of bird wings.
Jrska: Must be all that fried chicken. Ladies, Gentlemen & Sacred Hermaphrodites! I give you Extinction's Angel!
Rold: I wonder how they're going to keep escalating this.
Jrska: Demonmeat. Eat the deamonette!
Demonette: You only had to ask....
Or possibly auto-cannibalism? Happily, they don't have to - Cassius resorts to psychic disciplines for the next round, with the unfortunate - or fortunate - side effect of instantly putrefying all food in the room. Thus is too much for Plukus, who loses the L and the contest. Next up, Carnality!
Jrska: *bouncing up and down* Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!
Me: How about a song contest? I'll sing the complete Doug Anthony All Stars catalogue, and you can assume I win. Necrophilia, bestiality, unbirthing...
Click to view
Jrska: *sings excerpts from the relevant songs*
Cassius' player: Open with World's Best Kisser, for that line...
Jrska: *sings* I only kissed one girl before, my Grandma, on the kitchen floor, she dribbled and grinned, and said 'hey kid, you taught me things your Grandpa never did'.
Me: And break it up with some Tom Lehrer, and the Ballad of Eskimo Nell.
Jrska: *sings* Stories of tortures, used by debauchers, lurid, licentious, and vile, make me smile. Novels that pander, to my taste for candour, give me a pleasure sublime, let's face it, I love slime.
But instead of Black Crusade - the Musical, Jrska faces a more ordinary test of her carnal appetites. Her opponent warns her that one one other person has survived her boudoir - Jrska's brother. Jrska gives him a delighted grin and two thumbs up, which he briefly returns. That's the joyful pervert she knows and loves.
Jrska: Even if I don't survive it'll be worth it.
GM: We'll draw a discrete curtain over the scene
Jrska: Boooooooo!
Thanks to her patron's Mark, the pheromone emitters, and sheer awesomeness, Jrska has such a high charisma she can't fail the first seven rounds of the test. Mostly it's swapping tips and discussing her brother.
Jrska: He makes the cutest noises when you do this.
But they do become increasingly extreme and strenuous.
Jrska OOC: Lucky for me I'm female and therefore multiply orgasmic.
GM: The courtiers listen with increasingly interested and appalled expressions, but all you see are the contestants' heads sticking out from between the curtains, when they request more supplies.
Jrska: Bring me another penguin, this one's busted!
It all climaxes with Jrska's scream of triumph, and her challenger being helped to a chair and fanned down. The chamber itself, somewhat resembling the hotel room from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, is briefly considered as a museum piece to educate future generations, before they remove the entire chamber as is and dispatch it towards the heart of the Vortex so it can be closer to Slaanesh.
Jrska takes the time to change into something black and slinky for the next challenge - trading insults. Alas, her first plan of attack - getting her opponent to agree that Slaanesh is the youngest of the Chaos Gods, then demolishing that premise on the grounds that living things, even plants, have evolved insanely extravagant displays just for a chance to fuck since before there was even any intelligent life in the Universe - backfires when her opponent agrees. After that it rapidly degenerates into comments about Jrska's vaguely canine appearance, and then to criticism of each other's sexual habits.
Jrska: If you think I spend all my time on my back, you need an education in doggy-style
Jrska: I must compliment you on your understanding of Slaanesh. It shows an insight so concentrated, so pure... that one might almost mistake you for a virgin.
Opponent: Being open to all experience does not require me to open my legs for anybody. One can find favour with the Prince of Pleasure by exploring a single aspect in all detail-
Jrska: Oh,you're admitting you're monogamous then?