The past few days have been tough on Nicora. After her visits with other Sisters, Gorphat has insisted that she be more active in her Yodhgorphat duties. This means being seen, mostly by visiting the hospital tents outside the Temple. But at least it takes her mind off not being visited by any of the demons in the interim, which is frustrating. Now that she's no longer providing alien-fungus-babies, the Sacred Horrib queen in her womb is becoming more noticeable. Unlike the previous larvae she hosted as Taahira, the queen is hard, as if armored, and much bigger. Then again, Eeee aren't built for easy pregnancies like Lapi are.
There's also a new fad going around outside the temple, which Nicora hadn't really noticed at first due to relying on the horrib drones for vision (they color sense was a bit different than an Eeee's): those who volunteer to work at the hospital and soup kitchen sport shocks of green hair on their heads. This is to dissuade 'imposters' from raiding donations, since the green comes from some of Nicora's own collected fluids. This means the longer a person has been in 'service' to the Temple of Gorphat, they more disgusting they smell, making it easy to pick out fakers.
The giant skedat has been following the Priestess around all the time now, as it is sometimes hard to walk when the queen suddenly shifts around, often painfully. This is the case as Nicora ends her daily tour and returns to her chambers.
A grimace is even more disturbing when the Yodhgorphat doesn't really have any teeth to speak of. And that is just what Nicora is doing as she rides into her chambers on the back of skedat. "Ow, will you hold still, please," she burbles to herself and holds her hands over his distended gut. Probably to both try and calm it down and to get a feel for just how big it has become in the past few days. "And this isn't helping the feeling I want to rut until I pass out," she adds in a grumble. Being unable to satiate the curse Gorphat put on her has made it all the more worse as of late.
The queen is definitely noticeable to the touch now, especially when it moves - its apparently armored carapace scrapes against the inner walls of the womb. But at least it isn't kicking Nicora in the bladder. But otherwise there just doesn't seem to be any upside to the hosting.
Nicora eases herself off the skedat and makes her way towards her bed. One hand actually cups under her gut, trying to stablize it as she walks. "Some days I cannot believe I have allowed this," she admits to herself. Settling down on her bed is slow, but at least here she can use the shadow to check on the child more intimately, and see how attached or unattached it is to her body currently. And, well, how scary it looks.
There's still some connection - which could mean the larva hasn't finished growing yet. It feels like the other larva in shape though, just curled up with the 'head' being connected to the pseudo-placenta, and being covered in overlapping plates.
"Still part of me. I could remove you with my shadow, you know. Just ... devour you," Nicora thinks to herself as the shadow traces over it, telling her it still has a fair ways to go. She withdraws the shadow, and if on cue, her lower body burbles and makes a squelchy noise. "Ugh," Niicora says, then shakes her still bald and covered head. Of course then she thinks it is time to check under that goopy shell to see how her burns are doing. So, she tries to use the shadow to ease under it and remove it. The horribs can always replace it, after all.
Once the 'cap' is peeled away, Nicora's scalp is exposed to the air for the first time in several days. It tingles, feeling cold and tight. The scar tissue is hard and still numb though.
Nicora touches over the scarring, seeing if it has fully healed or not. Of course this is also her chance to open her eyes for a change, even if they are blurry. Maybe they have cleared by now.
The cataracts still cast a milky haze over everything. It's also disorienting, since Nicora isn't used to see out of them at all anymore, having been using the horribs.
Nicora is actually able to cup all of her fingers into herself down below to 'scoop' out some of her oozing. This also makes her feel ill, there is just no resistance. What she does with that goop is ... spread it all over her burned scalp again to treat the still reasonably fresh burn and forming scar; to show piety to her Mother, of course. Then her eyes close and she thinks, "Come to me, my children. Your mother requires your attention; feeding, wound covering ... and blinding."
The drones buzz and whir. One works on spreading new mucilage over Nicora's scalp and eyes, while a second extends its feeding tube to her lips. The third.. well, enters her from below, to fill her womb with more nutrient as well. It just doesn't go through her belly this time, but takes the recently cleared path.
Nicora, perhaps desperate, gasps out and helps push that lower feeding tube into her. The one at her lips she takes well into her naked muzzle to nurse on. The whole thing is utterly horrific, and it is also some level of content and satisfying. Even the shell-coating of most of her head has a level of comfort to it (never mind the goo she spread on her head makes it itch a lot).
"I am turning into Magog," the Eeee thinks grimly about her situation; blind and perpetually slimy.
Well, not entirely at least. She does have usable arms, legs, and wings!
The drones don't have any opinions to offer the matter, being content to do what needs to be done. Once the feeding is done, the horribs take off save for one to serve as Nicora's eyes.
"Dear Magog," Gorphat's voice notes. "She gets lonely, I suppose."
"How am I going to birth you?" Nicora burbles as she pets over her gut and leans back against the stone wall. The comment then makes her pause. "I met her thanks to Blakat," she admits, "Briefly. Your first? Did she fail you?"
"She was my First," Gorphat says. "That makes her a Demigoddess. She deals with the ones who do fail me, and exists much as the Sabaoth Seven do. I am sure my Sisters all have similar creatures, by deed or Lore."
"She looked horrible. Worse than I," Nicora thinks as she just rests against the wall, letting the ache in her gut subside from the larval movement.
"I would not call her horrible," Gorphat notes. "You found her daughters enticing enough. Would you not make love to Magog herself?"
"I'm a female, I could not make love to her as I am," Nicora points out.
"In the world she exists within, your form is fluid," Gorphat notes. "You could become a dragon and be the proper size."
"I thought you did not wish your daughters engaging in sexual acts? You have made sure that I can rarely find enjoyment in them after all," Nicora points out.
"The acts are fine, so long as they are unpleasant," Gorphat points out. "Anyone can seek pleasure. To seek discomfort as if it were pleasure, however, honors Me instead of Inala."
"Ah, so now that any sexual act I have is painful and disgusting, it is okay?" Nicora clarifies.
"Yes," Gorphat notes. "Except for Scourge, of course. It is exempt."
"Well, Scourge is incapable of sex entirely," Nicora notes. "I must admit, Mother, I do cherish your blessings now. Pain you give me is exquisite. Even now this queen pains me. How large will she get before I must birth her?"
"I cannot say.. but a queen is usually twice as large as a drone, so I would guess that her larva would be twice as big as a normal one," Gorphat replies. "These are special drones though. They are your children."
"And they are large. So this queen has a ways to go," Nicora says, sounding a bit worried about that perhaps. "Is there any new gists you wish to bestow upon me, Mother? Or things I can do in your service?"
"I am pleased that you are being more dutiful," Gorphat notes.. but there's a slight edge in there too. "I know that you have a greater duty, which involves all of my Sisters.. but it is hard to know that you spend time with them, and that they are probably more 'fun' than I am. They are trying to lure you away, clearly!"
"My body is a shrine to your greatness. How could I possibly be lured away from you?" Nicora thinks. "I would do anything to prove that to you. Every touch, blessing, ooze, pain, and scar reminds me of you."
"You could pledge to only remain in this form.." Gorphat starts to say. "But that is impossible. It would doom us all. I must accept what little you can give me, and be warmed that it is more than what the others have received. Except for Inala, who still has a grip upon you."
"You may infest me more if you wish. Or scar me, or make me ooze," Nicora offers, then smiles. "Inala may, but not as strong as yours. I spend much of my live in this crippled body in your honor. I have considered trying to visit Magag as your daughter as well, to honor you."
"She cannot be visited physically, for she exists in the realm of gods and demons," Gorphat notes. "Not would she have much to say. If she knew you were the last of my Yodh.. she might get jealous."
"Well, there is also Phlagaea," Nicora does point out. "So, you do not wish me to visit her?"
"I would be wary of you approaching her as you are," Gorphat says. "She may wrongly get the impression that I am trying to replace her. However, if you were to visit her as Scourge, you may find more common ground in your lack of similarity."
"Ah, I would just be another of your servant creatures then," Nicora says and nods. She lays back now to take pressure her gut. She can actually feel the weight of the queen within her as she lies down.
"Magog is not my servant, nor is Scourge," Gorphat insists. "Hosheb serves me. You and Magog are not demons, but beings of special purpose, created with love."
"I like to think of myself as your servant and daughter, though," Nicora admits as her body settles, she makes a disgusting puddle, and all sorts of squelchy noises. "And as your lover."
"You are more than that," Gorphat notes. "You are the Three-in-One: Wraith of Death, Maiden of Love, and Dragon of Affliction. The Sisters follow you."
"But cannot I appreciate being most special to you?" Nicora thinks, trying to console the jealous Goddess.
"You are special to me on a personal level, yes," Gorphat notes. "You are not a prize to be fought over, if I have given that impression. You are all that I have right now, so I am covetous."
"How would I find Magog as Scourge? I may visit her while this body rests. The queen is quite trying on my body. It hurts most of the time and I am tired," Nicora notes.
"I will take you to her," Gorphat says. "We can all visit together."
"I will survive the birth of this queen, yes?" Nicora asks before she prepares to 'sleep' and leave this realm in another body.
"Of course," Gorphat promises. "Survival is what I am all about, after all.."
The cavern of decomposing bodies is.. different.. through Scourge's senses. It is warm, and quiet, with only the barest flickering of auras from the piles - in Gorphat's hell, you have to still be alive enough to suffer after all, before being sent to Sunala. Gorphat herself casts a green light across it all, which makes it almost pretty. And through the maze, the creature can feel Magog's own happy aura, surrounded by her simpler daughters.
Scourge slinks along a few steps behind Gorphat, showing diffidence to its 'Mistress' of a sort. Hits head tilts about as it explores a place that does not seem nearly as bad as it was the first time. It's multi-part tail snakes about in the carrion, and it eve licks at the air with its disturbing tongue. One thing it cannot do, is smell. Probably a good thing.
There is an odd urge to burrow into a pile of carrion and just.. doze, absorbing the essences through its skin. This passes when they turn a particularly gruesome pile to find Magog and her brood. The body she's currently devouring feet first looks dead, but may still have some flickering awareness. And it's happy to be eaten, and thus released from the festering, rotting purgatory of this place.
"A lot have failed you," Scourge hisses to Gorphat. "Had I failed the path, would this have been my fate?"
"Daughter," Gorphat says, and Magog turns her cumbersome body to face the goddess. She slurps down the rest of the body in a series of convulsions. "Mother," she gurgles in reply. As for Scourge's question, Gorphat's reply is to stroke its head-tendrils, causing flickers of pleasure.
Magog's children bounce and rolls and hump their way over, squealing for attention.
Scourge's flat head arches up into the petting. It feels disturbingly nice. "Magog," it hisses to the horror before it.
"Who is this?" Magog asks upon noticing Scourge.
"This is your sibling, Scourge, the Eater of Madness," Gorphat introduces.
Scourge shuffles itself forward growing closer to the Demigoddess. It also bobs his head in greeting.
"I am Magog, the Cleaner," the hulking white form says. It can't really bob it's head, having lost its neck (and most of the head as well, save the face). The little version are butting up against Scourge now: nuzzling, licking and otherwise getting a taste for the strange creature.
Sourge's spongy and smooth skin ripples and rolls under the licking and slimy closeness. "It is an honor to meet you, the first of Gorphat, the Cleaner," it says, actually bowing its head in submission to the Demigoddess.
"You are of my Mother then, and not Blakat?" Magog asks.
"I am. She is my Mother as well," Scourge says, "Created for a different purpose than yours."
"What is your purpose, Eater of Madness?" Magog asks. "Has the world changed?"
"Diphath is attempting to complete Her takeover of Babel by creating an army of madness and death. I was created to combat it," Scourge explains, "Be devouring any madness She tries to spread. And I can walk in her domain unscathed."
"Diphath lives?" Magog asks. "Will there be corpses to feed upon?"
"Likely," Scourge notes, "A true vampire and its ghouls, if nothing else."
"Ghouls.. the undead?" Magog asks. Is she.. salivating. "They taste best. Sunala takes them all though.."
"The Sisters are uniting to push back and destroy Diphath. It is likely that those that are abominations will be punished before being sent to final oblivion," Scourge notes, "But I cannot say for certain. The new Sabbaoth must walk the path first."
"I would taste them, if I could," Magog says. Her daughters are still nudging Scourge, as if expecting something from the creature. And Scourge does start to feel.. odd.
Scourge looks back and over its shoulders as best it can at Magog's children. "What do these want?" it asks as it tries to figure out just what it is feeling.
"You are an adult, they expect a child from you," Magog notes. And Scourge starts to feel.. choked up? There's something lodged in its never-used throat it seems.
"What do you mean expect a child?" the fungal dragon rasps. The problem in its throat gets more uncomfortable and its tail thumps a few times on the ground. Its haunches arch up and its head drops as its throat convulses to expel whatever may be inside it.
The obstruction starts to move, and by the time it's actually expectorated it's gotten quite big. It's tentacles even stay entwined with Scourge's tongue for a moment, before the worm-beast lets go. It's a 'normal' type, looking more like the 'father'.. but is black and covered in glowing patterns like Scourge is. The daughters of Magog abandon Scourge to nuzzle and coo at the newly birthed monster.
Scourge swings its head towards Gorphat. "You made my mouth a passage for birth?" it asks of the Goddess. Just when it thought it couldn't feel horrified, turns out it can! "I still birth those ... things?"
"This realm is conducive to them," Gorphat notes. "And you only have the one orifice.."
"You could permit me another," Scourge says to Gorphat. Its brow even arches up in likely futile hope. "How many more of those things will I bear?"
"I cannot say," Gorphat notes. "It is not my blessing."
"But it is an infestation," Scourge points out. "How ... infested am I?"
Gorphat raises an eyebrow. "An infestation? It is no such thing," she claims. "You invited them into you. Allowed them to be fertilized. You are no more infested than a cultivated field is infested with crops."
"But does it not please you?" Scourge asks next. "Your creation being host for your creatures?"
"It should not have to," Gorphat notes. "You allowed them in because you were trying to avoid the discomfort of my blessing. A small weakness on your part, with a hefty price it seems. Are you pleased by the outcome?"
Scourge twitches. "Yes," the creature admits. "The squirming, the constant ooze ... they have moments of being enjoyable," it admits. "And it also is perhaps a self-punishment for a moment of weakness in your service. A reminder of the folly of straying."
Gorphat smiles. "You bring your own punishment on yourself," she notes. "Embrace it. Endure it. Become stronger for it. That is how you please me."
"How can I ensure it ... continues?" Scourge actually asks. "Ensure that Inala's chamber remains awash in your creatures?"
"Repeat the process when these are exhausted," Gorphat says. "But the time for such diversion grows short. Soon, I must give you up to the Path."
"This creature is the next Sabaoth?" Magog asks, once her daughters have nudged the new creature to a nutritious pile of offal.
"Hopefully," Gorphat answers.
"I know, but I do not intend to allow Nicora to be lost to you," Scourge notes. It slinks away from Gorphat now and goes about examining and exploring Magog up close this time. Licking her, feeling over her with its tail as it makes its way around her.
From Scourge's perspective.. Magog isn't all that horrific. Her flesh pulsates pleasantly, without being too slimy or sticky, and she tastes interesting due to what she rolls around in.
Scourge pauses once it is behind the grub-Demigoddess. It eyes the only somewhat feminine aspect of the creature ... then well, its multi-part tongue is briefly buried into Magog! Without asking. Possibly risky, but Scourge is a monster.
Magog shivers. Which causes a small earthquake. Her boneless nature makes it quite a sight! "That is nice, Scourge," she rumbles. Gorphat doesn't seem to object or offer her opinion on the situation, however.
Scourge leaves its tongue there, then. Squirms it about, then splays it open into its four parts inside the grub. It's always amazing the things the various forms are willing to do, or admit to.
It certainly seems to please Magog. It's hard to say if it counts as sex in any way, given the bizarre natures of the participants, but there's some pleasure on Scourge's part as well. The flavor of Magog isn't one of madness, or loneliness, exactly. It's difficult to define.. although the closest match might be boredom. She doesn't get much stimulation after all.
Scourge keeps right at it, burying its tongue as far as it possibly can. And it keeps right at it until it seems like Magog gets some sort of pleasure from it, if Gorphat permits any at all, before it finally pulls its tongue back out and circles around Magog again. "I like her," Scourge tells Gorphat.
"She is pleasant and sweet tempered," Gorphat notes. "Although in her day, she was known for the most devastating of curses, depending on which Lore you favor. In one, she was the last Priestess of Gephesa, and was transformed upon Gephesa's liberation to Gorphat."
Scourge's head tilts. "That is interesting to know," it admits. "What would become of her if Gephesa returned?"
"That depends on the new Lore," Gorphat reasons. "If she is woven into it, then that will determine her fate."
Scourge dips its head, then turns its attention to Magog's daughters. "How did you have these without a consort?" it asks of the grub-creature.
"When I have eaten enough, I produce a daughter," Magog claims.
"I did not know that was possible," Scourge has to admit. "Do you not miss the act of copulation?"
"They remain as they are," Gorphat elaborates. "They will not grow to Magog's size."
"I do not remember it, if I have experienced it," Magog claims. "If I had a mortal existence, it is too far in the past."
Scourge bobs its head. "Is there anything you would ask of me before I depart?" the fungal dragon inquires.
"What does madness taste like?" Magog asks.
"A savory dish that makes every part of your soul tingle and burn," Scourge answers, "It is beyond any possible physical pleasure."
"Like a decayed body, stewed in its own juices.. only a mental version?" Magog asks.
"Mmm, that may be an appropriate description for you," Scourge has to agree after some thought. Its tail curls back and coils around Gorphat's bandaged leg lightly.
The Magog-ettes bounce and roll around, or squirm happily when one of the tubular worm-thing's tentacles brush them. "I will think upon the things you have revealed to me," Magog says. "We may meet again, in a different place."
Scourge leans over and noses its latest 'child' almost affectionately, then says, "I will leave this child with you for new company." It turns. "I am ready to return to the other world," it then tells Gorphat.
Waking up, Nicora feels.. well, as if she has given birth to one of the worm creatures, even if she hasn't done it with this particular body. The odd half-spirit, half-real nature of the things makes it all the more confusing when one is spawned in an altered space.
Nicora reaches down between her legs and feels a veritable pile of ooze and stretched skin. "Lovely that my body reacts such even when it does not occur here," she says as she slowly sits upright from her rest.
The seeing-eye horrib orbits around, and the other creatures stir a bit, in case Nicora needs them. The chibix chirps and lands on Nicora's 'bandaged' head.
"I need a bath," Nicora burbles as she rises from the bed and tries to take a few steps, waiting to see if any pain hits.
There's discomfort in her abdomen, of course, since the queen sits like a rock inside her.
Nicora decides to try to walk herself to the slime pits for a bath. Off with her usual stench to replace it with the slimy one.
Of course, the Yodhgorphat cannot really go anywhere without an entourage. The horrib of course, so she can see. And the skedat, in case she needs to sit down. And the chibix because it's sitting on her head. And even getting out of the room alerts Fon, who comes to see if Nicora needs help..
"And I thought Yodhgorphat were supposed to be unpopular!" Nicora things as he walks, leaving a trail of rank slime in her wake as it drips from places that really should not drip like that! Along with the occasional gassy emissions, pauses to rest, and coughing up of phlegm. This is ... how is it possible she can have such a menagerie!?