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 Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2016 2:51 am
The Estamuertos are a crime syndicate and drug cartel located primarily within Aramil, Kevai and the International Trading Zone. They were founded and are ran by the enigmatic man known as Galroth, who very few know to be Icarus of Homosylozasene Cordonomentus, a race of exceptionally rare and powerful organic-synthetics with a penchant for biology, chemistry, and mayhem.
With Icarus primarily living in Kevai, the Dathan Compound is the safezone for the elite members of the cartel. It is governed by a Djinn man named Almahar al-Fadrizzi when the druglord is not present, and trains the most elite agents of the Estamuertos, while also acting as a workshop and lab for Icarus and his scientists in the production of new illegal commodities to trade.
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Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2016 6:13 am
 
"Icarus, he told me," the man started, "They say you're an artificial intelligence, like the sentient machines being built by the Fraxonian military. How can you, as a barely living creature, rule over man? This world is to have its fate determined by man alone - that is the law that has always ruled." The Cordonus laughed. For a short time, then for a longer one. Those sitting at the table with him tried to laugh, though they seemed very nervous. These were members of the Cartel that were being chastised for something, and they knew it, but they didn't know what yet. What they did know was that they were allowed to bring weapons, so it was possibly unlikely that Icarus would wish to engage with them. Each man here was a skilled warrior, and while the Druglord was moreso, they would be admirable foes.
"Aedomar Lensleth was his name. He was a member of this cartel, a human man with a faith that scaled from Vangelist when he joined to Mazdakii after the changing of the political landscape. He is now dead, as those who know of what I am - Homosylozasene Cordonomentus - do not get to live if I didn't want them to know. I wanted all of you to know of who I am. Each of you men are the leaders of individual compounds. Raedwyth Galendara, you're the leader of the Geshan Compound. Selyndreth Zae'el'tani, you're the leader of the Kranila Compound. So on and so forth. That's why I allowed you to know my real identity, as a man of the nearly extinct species of organic-synthetics. However, one of you decided to let another find out - one I didn't intend to inform. He was a man of the Aramil Compound, yet the Incubus Damien Tortera is innocent of informing him. I did well to inspect him." As one with an extreme proficiency in biological compounds, Icarus wielded a potion that could reveal the truth in any lie. The Incubus was innocent, which meant that these men were not. That, or they revealed it to another, who revealed it to another, and to another. That would not do.
"This cartel is about money. Outside influences are irrelevant. Relgious differences, racial tensions, all of those things are nil. The fact that my brain processes information eight thousand times faster than yours does, does not matter except to put me forward as a far more competent leader. I invite you to fear me for what I am, a hyper-sentient creature with the intelligence of the most advanced machines. It's true that I am superior to all of you. But leave that fear in your own hearts, won't you? I can't have my cartel rotating the rumor mill in ways that will negatively effect production." He stood up and looked at each of the men, individually. All of them were young or nearing their middle ages. The men were generally good warriors. Most of them were Incubi or Wardens, with a few humans, despite Icarus' distaste for them. There was one man for each major duchy. He often referred to them by the location of their compound. So, in total, the men in this room were: Weston, Dathan, Geshan, Lordshire, Lincoln, San Luna, Heartland, Miras, Gloria en Valle, Kuladhan and Gel Adal. Those were the regions in which they served. He looked at each of them individually, and then asked them all a question: the last one of them would ever be asked -
"I'll give you one chance to redeem yourself before death, whoever of you it was that revealed my identity to a stranger. Who are you?" All of them remained silent. Some of them seemed tense and nervous, while some were calm and composed. Many of these men had been in the criminal underworld for a long time, though Icarus' syndicate had grown to surpass the others before it. The newbies to crime were always the most uncomfortable, as even though they relished in slaying others, their own demise was something that tormented them even merely as a thought.
"Alright," he replied to the silence. The man reached into his satchel and grabbed the handle of the vial he titled "Flask of Soothsaying", which would get allegedly whoever revealed his identity to speak. One man in particular grew exceptionally nervous as he did so, and finally he stood up and spoke. "Icarus - it was me. It was an accident, I was drunk, I-" With those words, the druglord tossed the flask and had the substance unleash over the disloyal one's body. The flask released an acidic substance that melted him from skin to the marrow of his bones, and he screamed in agony as members of the cartel reeled back and gasped, covering their mouths. One man gagged.
He rolled his eyes. "Of course it was the ******** human," he said. "The genetic ******** can't do anything right, can they? The only thing I have learned to expect from them is that they will fail to get their job done." To these words, Henry Maybury, a Fraxonian man grit his teeth in his seat. Icarus noticed, but didn't reply. The robotic man merely laid back into his chair and had one of his Skinwalkers tune his radio to a classical song. "I am done with you, all of you, for the day. Just remember not to act like a completely disloyal c**t. Some disloyalty is befitting of you, being criminals and all, but we can't have you revealing my identity to low-ranked plebs. I mean, seriously." With the gesture of his dismissal, all left the place, and he proceeded to read an epitaph by one of his favorite Aramilian writers, Leighman Fortlet, a Nephilim who cast aside his role as a public defender.
It was too bad - he had heard fables of his skill. He would've been a staunch guardian of Aramil for when Icarus came to destroy it.
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Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2016 6:36 pm
 ""
Sitting at the table across from the Cordonus sat Almahar al-Fadrizzi, the Dathan Compound leader. Well, for all intents and purposes, it was the Djinn they had all known that was sitting in the room with them. It was easy to break into the compound. Information leaked out of this place like a runny faucet. A single removal of one security personnel was how he got started; in truth, he actually followed a man home and disposed of him in the dead of night. It wasn't hard to assume his form at all; one would be surprised with how little the Djinn's security guards were allowed to speak. The shifter would remain in the form for days before he was able to seize his opportunity to assume the role of Almahar. Moving swiftly, he assumed control of the man's body using a simple technique. It was easy enough for the Shifter to force Almahar to walk into an enclosed space on the compound, after that it was just a matter of assuming his form and disposing of the body. It would prove to be problematic, as the compound was littered with security personnel. Figuring it was best to just leave the Djinn in his current isolated area, due to the summit happening today, the shifter never really cared for how long the body would stay there before it was found.
At the table now, with Icarus and the other compound leaders, Max eyed the man closely. God, he was beautiful. How did that work, exactly? Did Icarus design himself? No, right? It was nothing like Kamilla. The Techno Queen was a nightmare; saggy boobs, bad breath, and a third leg? No thanks. This was the man who led things behind the scenes, and the view was almost amazingly terrifying. What was the point of his employees if not to mention when this man was wrong? Were they really that scared of him? Everything about the man seemed poised and flawless. His voice. His diction, amirite? His choice of fashion. His armor clung to his body, showing every finite detail on his torso; it signaled one thing: he was always ready for battle. Even his laugh seemed laced with an enticing venom. Instinctively, Max bit his lower lip. Thsi man was everything he wanted. His arms, his body, his physique and stature in this organization. His big hands and long arms only called into question what else on his body was the same. What he would do to see what was under those layers. Internal temperature rising, nostrils flaring, eyes becoming dilated as he laid eyes of the man of his dreams. What he wouldn't do for just one touch from the man. There was only one thing Max was absolutely sure that he wanted. He. Wanted. His...
Form. What strength could he find there? It must have come in handy quite a lot. Many could try to boast their superiority, but Icarus was actually physically superior to most. Most, but not all. He could try as hard he possibly could and still not be as sexy as Max. s**t. He was staring for far too long, but he liked to think that Icarus adored the gazes he received. The joke he told was macabre and... hilarious! While the others laughed nervously, he seemed to be the only one who enjoyed the joke as much as Icarus had. The others laughed nervously, as if they all knew what was coming. Perhaps they all did, but Max didn't. In fact, the entire summit seemed questionable. Why did drug lords have to meet up? To mingle and jingle? Seemed unlikely. Was it going to be an orgy? The excitement alone was enough for him to get going just underneath the table. Sadly, this Djinn wasn't exactly gifted with much. Must be why he got into the business, but everyone knew those p***s extending pills didn't work. Wait. This was big pharma, and they must have hidden secrets everywhere. A p***s growing pill! Wait, no, that was useless, too. Max was already plenty gifted, and he could change the size, curvature, and shape whenever he pleased.
When Icarus stood up, the tone of the meeting darkened. It was clear from the scared faces of the room that something bad was going to happen. A traitor. Of course there was a traitor. How else was Max there in the room now? The human that sold Max the information while he was drunk was only three seats away from him. Was something about to happen? No one ever stands up in a meeting to deliver good news. When Icarus pulled out a vial of what seemed to be a truth serum of some kind, his body tensed up. Max was a great liar, but even he would fall prey to its effects. This was it, wasn't it? This was going to be the first time he was every discovered. This entire plan was based on a single thing: getting that form. Even if it meant putting his life at risk, he would do it, and then attempt to flee. As Icarus glanced around the room, and then at Almahar, he looked for an opening. One that would allow him to just place a single finger on him. Now? No.
Now? No.
Now? No.
Now? Yes.
Just as he was about to stand and launch himself, the human rose to confess. Heartbeat racing, the Shifter remained still. The human's voice was scared and shaky, and there was no doubt about what was going to happen next. The only surprise was how it happened. Using the same vial, Icarus tossed it at the human, and the hideous creature melted beautifully under the acid. How it trickled down his skin and melting flesh to disintegrate the bones down to the marrow... it was revolutionary. Was the glass impervious to the acid? Did it take energy of some kind to activate? What was it? Icarus grew more and more interesting with each passing minute. Truthfully, Max felt the intense desire to rise out of his chair, climb onto the table, and turn around to offer himself to the Cordonus. While the others were disturbed by the display, Max only found it invigorating. Did everyone melt like that, or was it just humans? The idea of melting off Kamilla's saggy tits was more than appealing, but that wouldn't be enough to kill her. If anything, all he did was save her from breast cancer.
When Icarus signaled everyone to leave, Max remained. It was Almahar's compound, after all. But that wasn't his reason for staying. No, it was the Cordonus still sitting across the room and table from him. Quickly, he motioned for the clean up of the human Icarus had melted during the summit, though he remained quiet while the music played. Surely, Icarus noticed his presence. For the first time since the summit began, he spoke. "That was pretty magnificent." True to his identity, he remained in the form, though it wouldn't be much useful for long. "They told me about you. The Cordonus drug lord. Tell me, is there really a pill to increase libido? Like, is that really a thing? No. Don't answer. Don't answer. I want to be surprised. How about this? You take it, and you can surprise me upstairs." What was upstairs? An easier exit. By now, the form was pointless, and slowly, his skin crawled back to it's original form, though his noticeably smaller frame made the Djinn's clothing look ridiculous on him. You'd think they were made for a red wish granting lunatic. Oh, wait. They were. "I do like the music, but maybe we could change it to some dance music? Are you into club music? I'm pretty partial to Yeastoncé. The way she sings about the struggles of UTIs and yeast infections that women face while maintaining a steady beat is pretty ******** amazing, right?" Leaning back in his chair, the Shifter kept his gaze on Icarus. The man was erratic. How would he react? Would he attack Max? Would he spank him? Would he tie him up and spank him? The boner alert was real.
"I'm Maximillian Michaels, Shapeshifting Extraordinaire! But you can call me Max, Big Daddy, Papa Max, or Sexy Daddy Max." Interestingly enough, Max wasn't joking. Though few called him Sexy Daddy Max, he had a small cult following in Kranilla that followed the Faceless Beast, and his name was Papa Max. It was on a stone tablet to immortalize the entire thing. Leaning forward out of his relaxed state, his face hardened. "I want it. Everything you can give me. Acids. Flasks. Poisons. Maybe some narcotics to take the edge off, preferably addictive. I have a crazy b***h to annihilate, after all."
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Posted: Wed Jul 27, 2016 11:50 pm
His silence was interrupted. He had noticed that Almahar remained, despite him wishing everyone to leave. However, he decided he would give him the time to order the clean-up and get his bearings before forcing the issue. What followed the brief period of silence, however, was utter madness. The Cordonus could not nearly predict what was going to occur, although when it did happen, his interest flared tremendously. That was pretty magnificent, the man who was apparently Almahar said. That immediately made Icarus raise a brow, as the Djinn rarely ever spoke with such words. Usually, it was all stone-cold pitch and a simpleton's tongue. He was strong, but highly incapable of conducting himself properly for a formal occassion. Luckily, a druglord's cartel was anything but formal.
By the time he spoke his next sentence, Icarus knew that something was very wrong, and he almost - as an expert on creatures and monsters - knew exactly what was wrong, though he wouldn't act on his theory just yet. He laughed at the question of whether or not he had pills to increase libido. He actually did, although they weren't for himself, unfortunately for this rendition of Almahar. Sex was big in Aramil. The density of those sexually active was, statistically, higher than every other nation. Why not make some injections, pills, powders, herbs to guarantee better results in the bed? That was not perverted, it was merely business savvy.
Before long, the attire had come to fit awkwardly as he receded into the appearance of a younger, smaller, more attractive man. He had an innocent look to him, almost, though Icarus knew best that looks could entirely deceive. After all, he appeared as that of a charming and suave negotiator with the appearance of an exceptionally attractive human . . . but in reality he had the heart and mind of a vindictive enclosure of steel and robotic malevolence. Appearances did deceive, and this man was one who proved that all the time. He knew without the Shifter saying it - he was one who changed his form. They were a rare, almost extinct species, just like the Cordonus. They had come from Val'Ghast as well, and if he recalled correctly, much of their race had been exterminated by Icarus' ancestors. The old Cordonus hated competition.
"Maximillian Michaels." He placed his arm on the desk, smoothing over the wood with his palm. "Very daring of you to simply reveal yourself without any precautions. Did you not hear my speech about how those who know my identity without my consent on the matter are not long for this world?" He supposed he didn't care. Icarus had exceptional perception, being a Cordonus who had already gone through much of his evolution process. It didn't take him much to ascertain that Max was actually . . . very strong. Stronger than Almahar was by a significant margin. Stronger than Icarus? He couldn't tell. He never quite had energy sensing, at least without the aid of any flask.
His demeanor was very strange for a creature that was so powerful. That was something that stuck out to Icarus. He spoke in a lewd, unfiltered manner. The Cordonus didn't mind, as he actually found the comedic value in it. It was just - he was overwhelmed by how quantifiably odd this man was. This Max. And that intrigued him more than he'd been intrigued in a long time. "We can play some dance music," he said with a grin. The man tuned the radio to some spicy salsa-esque sort of music, the room's atmosphere changing immediately. The Skinwalkers that guarded all four corners of the room began to dance awkwardly, their strangely coordinated limbs flailing about. The Cordonus had an exceptional smile covering the bottom half of his face, one that was as charming as it was creepy.
"I am Icarus Iskariot. That was my father's name. I have since abandoned that surname, but I suppose if we're to do a proper greeting it would be rude of me to provide only 'Icarus'." He knew now that he was a Shapeshifter - the man had confirmed his suspicions. But what magnitude of Shifter was he, to be capable of pulling off such a daring scheme, confronting the leader of the largest crime syndicate in the East? This entire situation interested him, from the weird manner in which he spoke to the boldness of his actions. Icarus . . . wanted as much from this 'Max' as Max wanted from him, though he wasn't completely sure what the Shifter wanted just yet. He mentioned a crazy b***h to annihilate. Perhaps that was where to begin? Firstly, though, he had something to address.
"Don't you find it a bit odd going to someone like me for anything? My race has essentially declared yours unworthy of this world. We've murdered your kind across history - even created flasks to dispel the guise of another form, or get one to speak their true identity. I don't possess the formulae for these flasks myself, but Kamilla and her followers would be jovial to see you and subject you to their torture. How can you imagine that I am not one of her followers? Lots of risks you're taking by coming here. You must want something exceptional from me. That, or you have brass balls. Maybe a combination of the two?" He stood up, and excused the Skinwalkers, returning them to their duty of patrolling the compound. He did not fear this man. He was fine to be alone with him, as Icarus had brass balls as well. You couldn't fear anything if you wanted to control everything. Micromanaging the world was his talent, and he knew he could wrangle control of this situation as well. Max, after all, didn't have the ability to deal with a mind that could process and calculate possibility faster than Max could summate his next word in a sentence. Icarus feared nothing.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 4:37 am
""
Every move he made was risky, and every word he chose would probably decide if a battle ensued. This was the work of a master tactician; to play the game and emerge unscathed. Thankfully, Max didn't care much for all of that. Instead, he brought some marbles in his pocket to play with in case the meeting got boring, which it didn't. A man was melted like the wicked b***h of the east would soon be, and it was the highlight of the meeting. Of the day? No, that honor belonged to Icarus.The man was utterly exciting; he had certainly began to rustle Max's jimmies. Even the way his hand glided on the table made Max want to rip his over-sized clothes off. So he did just that. Standing up while keeping his gaze solely on Icarus, he peeled the robe the Djinn had worn at the time of his death, letting it fall to the floor as Almahar had done so easily. What remained was merely what he had been used to wearing everyday: his handwraps gifted to him by someone he let go of a long time ago, black slacks, and his belt that held his dagger close behind him. The muttering of his name chilled his spine to the core, his back arcing slightly in response. His earlier threat didn't frighten the Shapeshifter; in fact, Icarus frightened him probably as much as Max frightened Icarus.
"Daring? Nah, that's not me. Daring would imply that I first acknowledged that something was dangerous. I don't often think before I do things. It soils the fun." He whispered. Placing his hands on the table, he leaned forward. Every inch he moved closer to the Cordonus only excited the Shifter more. This man wasn't like the other Cordonus he had met. Kamilla was a jolly b***h, and awfully uninspiring. "Some call me mad. Many call me impulsive, but I know the truth. I like the have fun." Eluding from his actual purpose for being here, which was to gain Icarus' form, Max continued his appeal to Icarus. Well, until Icarus changed the music, and instantly a grin formed on his face to match Icarus'. There was something about the music that made his hips sway. Moving away from the table, Max allowed himself to become lost in the music. Euphoria set in at the idea of Icarus watching him.
As the music continued, so did Max. His body moved as if it no longer had control of itself; as if it were being guided by the music. "Odd? What do mean by that? I came to a man for something I wanted. Is that not what we are all supposed to do?" He stopped moving when he spoke of Kamilla. It didn't anger him, nor did it displease him. But it stopped him in his tracks. "Techno Queen? Please. We're all tired of Kamilla and her saggy tits flapping around everywhere. I don't fear you like your workers because from the moment I laid my eyes on you, I was enamored. You can threaten me all you like, but I think you and I both know that you won't turn me in. Can you feel it? That heat? That's us." Extending his hand out to Icarus, he motioned for the Cordonus to come forward and join him. "Icarus, then. Join me. There's someone in front of you that doesn't fear you. I can't speak for brass balls, but I'll make sure I don't poke you with my brass candlestick."
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 5:32 am
From the way Max had begun to act, it was clear that he was intending to use his nature as a man to manipulate something out of him. He wasn't sure exactly what he wanted, but considering he very well could have been an assassin, he was unwilling to lower his guard even in the slightest. Icarus had his framework installed far elsewhere, and so could reconstruct his body if Max were to somehow destroy him. However, the danger to the compound was evident, and he did not wish to be bested by some foolish ploy. He would not succumb to whatever temptation the Shifter was trying to swell within him. However, he did allow himself to enjoy the sight and the moment for what it would have been without the danger. Max was attractive, and there was a certain allure that came with him. His voice sounded nice. He could probably alter his vocal chords. His body was toned. As someone infected by the virus that called itself Lust, Icarus couldn't help but find the allure even despite the danger. But he had - as a benefit of his intellect and composure - managed to surpass Lust's hold over him in all but the most extreme of occassions.
This show would not draw weakness from him. Nor the words behind it. Enamored. You and I. The Heat. All of those attempts were laughable. He did in fact grab Max's hand, but he did so by gripping his wrist tightly in a way that would cause no small level of pain. "You think to seduce me?" He asked him, a look that screamed pure malevolence coming over his expression. "That's not how this world works, Shifter. It's my world. My rules. I'm in control." The pain intensified at first, but then - oddly - it transformed into pleasure. A serendipity that would rivet Max's mind for but a brief moment, before Icarus pushed him away. "You think I would trust you enough to get into bed with you, literally or metaphorically? No. There's a reason my ancestors slaughtered you all. Manipulative, cowardly, dishonest. You merely borrow while we create. Kamilla may be a s**t-eating moron, but even she bested your kind. Defeated your first and greatest. I know these things. The history of Val'Ghast is recorded in my mind."
He wondered who this man was, and why he was here. Something about him was off-putting, and strangely intimidating, despite holding the appearance of someone who wanted to get bended over. Icarus sighed, getting settled in his chair and only looking at Max occassionally. He mostly seemed to look at nothing at all, keeping to his thoughts, weighing the situation. "There are a few intentions I can imagine. Firstly, you're powerful. From what I have gathered on your kind, you tend to progress slowly due to your exploratory and undisciplined nature. This means you are likely relatively old, though how old is unknown; you could be eighty, a hundred, two hundred, more. If you're older, that likely means you're more connected to sentimental ideas such as home. So, perhaps you wish to return to Val'Ghast instead of wandering aimlessly as your other kind do. I see how I could be useful for that. Another possibility is revenge. You wish to kill all Cordonus, or merely Kamilla, the one who dislodged your people. That's evident from the way you refer to her. I also wish to see her dead, but for different reasons. Not for revenge, but for control. My people were not made to live among other men. We were made to rule over monsters. My place is in Val'Ghast, not Aramil." He leaned back and moved his chair, facing Max directly.
The man grinned yet again, consuming the visage of the Shifter in his mind. "I suppose you're a monster, barely. Perhaps that's the only reason I've tolerated you." He stood up, and moved closer to Max, though beyond reach. "If you would continue this further without drawing my ire, you need to realize - try to seek me out for your own gain, I will always ensure that I gain the most from it. If you accept that as fact before you speak your pitiful algorithims, then you may offer me any deal and I will consider it. There is no need for games and lies. I am the ultimate liar. I see through them all."
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 8:10 am
""
Pain. So many would recoil from it, but Max fed off of it. He felt every dol that Icarus dished out, and still his body reacted in way that Icarus wouldn't expect. Like a rush, the pleasure intensified. Every fiber of his being wanted to drag the Cordonus in and go for a ride. With a blush on his face, a small moan escaped his lips as his head rocked back in pleasure. "Pull my hair next. Spank me. I beg you." The pleasure weaned as Icarus let go of his wrist, and Max's grin faded with the verbal assault assault coming his way. The slew of insults only proved to be effective as the passionate shifter took each word to heart. Manipulative, cowardly, dishonest. All true, of course, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. There it was again. That name. Kamilla may be a s**t-eating moron, but even she bested your kind. Defeated your first and greatest. The audacity to speak of his defeat to the Wonder Snatch was enough to set the Shifter off to the deep end. Anger rising; emotions flaring, Max only needed the slightest push. No. He didn't.
"Your little Wonder Snatch of an ancestor cheap shotted me!" He barked; his voice changed. It had become deeper. Something not suited for someone of his build or personality. Something foreign. "Defeated the first and greatest? Do I look dead to you?!" Immediately, Max felt the regret. Icarus was smart enough to piece two things together, and he would piece together the Shifter's first form. He had only knew the truth about himself for a week, and already he was ratting himself out. To a Cordonus, no less. "You know nothing of my intentions. And even less about my people. Remember this, Icarus. I was here first. It might've taken me some time to get with the program, but I never left. I never left." As he finished his last sentence, his voice reverted back to normal, though slowly. Easily provoked, and easily the most impulsive person he had ever met, Max understood he had what he came for. "You don't get it do you? I don't care for other Shifters. I don't care for the Cordonus. You wanna know why I'm here? You should know. You just gave it to me."
Pausing for a moment, Max was disoriented as he rapidly sifted through the Cordonus' memories. "When did you figure out you were different? The day you flayed your foster father was the day you lost it, wasn't it? They called me Archellon the Mad, in case you were behind on the conversation. Beheadings were just the tip of the iceberg. Flayings? Too messy. I highly recommend strappado. But that's a different life." After sifting through Icarus' memories, he understood why his underlings feared him. They were weaker substantially weaker than Icarus, and he had acid, too. The death that occurred at the last meeting was actually common. Even after being provoked and insulted by the Cordonus, he found himself incapable of leaving. Each memory told a different story, and these stories each painted Icarus in a new, dim light. The intrigue was as high as ever. "I want to make a deal. For centuries, how often do you think our races have clashed? I've killed my fair share of Cordonii, as your people have killed mine. None of it matters to me. I have no brethren. There are no Shifters that I consider to be my equal. What I want, besides your form, is a trade. As you might have guessed, your form isn't the only one I've stolen. The abilities in my little toolbox would make you drop your pants faster than seeing my fantastic bubble butt. What I want in return? For starters, I'm taking this compound and your pathetic late comrade. I killed him earlier today with ease, in case you were wondering. He's decaying in a closet somewhere."
The first request was basic, and very straightforward. His next request? Well, it could go either way. "Lastly, I want you to help me kill Kamilla, and keep the kings of the west away from Val'Ghast. You could call me sentimental, but it's my home. I've come to accept that I cannot rule it. But it doesn't mean that I want some imperialists laying some claim on my old lands."
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 12:02 pm
He loved it. All of it. It took him only an instant to realize that pain nourished Max - gave him pleasure. Icarus loved inflicting pain. He loved hurting individuals, watching them bleed, decay and die. Maybe Max was the same, and he was right to assume that the footing was truly equal. In terms of power and their magnitudes of oddness, at least. His temper wasn't the least bit composed, unlike Icarus who was only really driven off the deep end when he had the proactive desire to unleash his rage for the betterment of his mental health. It only took a little bit of provocation to turn the smiles and haughty glances into a shambling look of anger and scorn. He loved it all. Pain pleasured him, and his temperament was unique and wild, but of a volatile and explosive nature. He was much worse than even the Wardens in that regard. He quite literally shifted associations at mention of his kind's despicable behavior and Archellon's defeat at the hands of the Techno Queen. Wonder Snatch he called her. A laugh came from Icarus, even as he raged on.
It wasn't a surprise. Honestly, it really wasn't one, discovering that Max was likely the first Shifter. He didn't imagine he was lying. As far as he was concerned, his kind was so useless and depraved of intelligence that it probably really did all of these eight hundred years to properly summate a plan to take down Kamilla. Was he, however, misjudging Max's power? It could have been lesser than Icarus' own, but it could have been greater too. He seemed fearless in the face of Icarus' threats, it was only the insults that provoked him. He began to realize that he'd given Max what he wanted, at not only his words but his rememberance of the allegations that Shifters gathered forms through contact. It was deep in his memory, and he didn't worry enough to think to access it. Unfortunately, though, that meant that Max had one-upped him. Something he didn't particularly like.
By the time he started spouting on about Icarus' past deeds, the Cordonus stopped him in his tracks. "Flaying was hardly my best work. I like the mess, though. Gives me something to feed my beasts. I fed my father to the Skinwalkers in their earlier, primitive form, back when they were merely blobs of fleshing sprouting from a nucleus. I knew I was different long before I killed him. I slaughtered my mother to come out of the womb, because I found the humidity and entrapment of her little fragile body to be suffocating and tedious. I have always been a manifestation of evil, Max. Always. Since I was just a little cell squriming towards the egg. I can imagine if I could rationalize my thoughts from back then, they would have questioned ways in which I could destroy the man that placed me there, in such juvenile form. Archellon the Mad is s**t to me. I don't care what you've done in your past. You don't know the evil I know, that I have always known. To me, your form of cruelty is something I consider merely infantile." He could respond to a boisterous rant with one of his own. He feared nothing from this man. He was cautious, but Icarus was a man of a greater pride than Max had ascertained, and that was clear.
He would remind him, then, of how industrious he was; his businessman-like outlook on the world preceded his ability to be swayed by emotion. "The rage and enthusiasm of these propositions doesn't move me in the slightest, Max. All of these propositions of yours lack in ways they can benefit me directly. So be more clear. You'll give me your skills, and of course in exchange for my own, and my resources. So what tips the scales of balance in my favor, there? I want your loyalty. An oath of devotion. You want my compound? Only if you earn it more money than the previous ruler did. If you want to be Estamuertos, a part of my cartel, you have to be as wise and gifted as you are so evidently demanding and imperious. Now, the last thing is the one that requires the most out of me, and so I expect great leverage on your end." He mulled it all over in his head. The level of threat generated by directly confronting Kamilla. As the offender, she stood no chance against Aramil, especially as it was allied with Los Anthos and Fraxon. But with merely one cartel and its two leaders confronting her, the scales tipped dramatically in her favor. And worst of all?
He feared the men behind her - the ones that wielded more than just raw strength, but that of industry, nobility and fame behind them. "Kamilla isn't even my greatest fear. She's powerful, I'll give her that. But like the cunning woman she is, she submitted to Adriel and Amias despite them being collectively weaker than her. Why? Because Adriel and Amias have power beyond what we have, even with my cartel. Adriel rules the Kingdom of Valle, as well as maintaining a power structure in the Empire of Nocturne. Amias is a Pagan with followers in large number, monster and man alike. They are renowned as Godslayers and revolutionaries. We do not have these credentials, and importantly, Kamilla will see my very existence as a constant threat to her survival. She will broker no deal with us that we may exploit later on, and so the only option is to confront her with force. Naturally, as Val'Ghast has been subjugated by Adriel and Amias, they will step forward to destroy us. I am strong, but I am also young and not fully developed in my abilities. In my current state, I cannot kill King Adriel or Amias Nicht. They are two of the most powerful warriors in this world." He paused, and faintly grinned. In my current state, he made sure to specify. Eventually, that would no longer be an inhibition. But he was sure that Max didn't consider the idea of waiting a few years to be one that was all too appealing.
"The goal becomes, then, to sever their connection and turn them against one another. You and I both have exceptional skill in that regard. You can take on forms, turn allies into enemies with manipulation; lies. With Adriel or Amias' form, you could go to one of them and create a false plot that would shatter their relationship. I can then exploit that weakness, using my power over desires, to turn the rage and feelings of betrayal into an infatuation for me. Get Adriel or Amias into my pocket, and as a result, fracture the great triumvirate that has come to subjugate Val'Ghast. At that point, Kamilla becomes vulnerable and we may strike." Now, what was left was what came after they had struck. Max merely wanted revenge, and his home back. Revenge on "Wonder Snatch" and her clutches on the land he once reigned over. Icarus wanted more. Kamilla's death wasn't enough, as satisfying as that would be. "At the end of all of this, I will allow you to coexist with me and dwell about in Val'Ghast. Only, however, if you support my claim and do not gather ideas about overthrowing me as the King of the Monsters. I shan't have you plotting with some other Cordonus in the future at my expense, although I doubt the other Cordonus will live for all that long. Oops, spoiler alert." He grinned.
Those were the last words he would speak. He had gone on for long enough, laying out a concrete plan in which to depose Wonder Snatch from her throne. Now all he needed was Max's acceptance. His refusal of this deal would result in the severing of their relations, and the expulsion or death of his physical form. Icarus did not play games, and as much as the sinful side of him was piqued by all this talk about his brass candle and well-shaped posterior, the logical side of Icarus found Max to be an interesting, but highly dangerous individual. He didn't like those sorts of people roaming around. They always caused problems for him with their unpredictable nature. If he could not tame the impulses of this creature, he would see them burned.
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Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 10:03 pm
""
In truth, there was nothing about Icarus that gave Max the idea that he needed to have the Cordonus on his side, he merely wanted him. He'd surpassed Archellon's strength a long time ago, and the few remaining Shapeshifters were too concerned with using their abilities for heists and trivial tasks. In the short span of time he spent as Max, he managed to secure more forms than Archellon ever did, and his current power levels reflected that. It was true that as an individual with no shifting abilities that Max was weak. But the process of gathering various forms of the people he'd met along his travels ensured that he actually stood above most fighters in terms of strength, and if someone stronger came along their form would be stolen as well. It was a dangerous game he played, and yet he never truly thought much of it. His impulsive, yet thrill seeking nature controlled much of what he did on a daily basis. If the Shifter wanted something, he would take it. It was how he found himself here after several drinks he pretended to consume with one of Icarus' compound leaders on their way to the summit.
Taking a seat on the table just in front of the Cordonus, Max rolled his shoulders back in an attempt to relax his stiff muscles. Icarus was such a mean fellow, but the hot ones were always mean. Not Max, though. Max was full of love to give. Even when he snuffed lives out, he would spray them with his scent to at least make them smell just a bit nicer before the decay set in. While he couldn't prove it, he knew that his small act of kindness went a long way. Well, its not like he checked in to see how long his targets were left to decay, but he always meant to! No, no he didn't. In fact, the cologne thing was perhaps the extent of his care, and even then it was more for his benefit. Didn't need people finding his bodies too quickly. At least he wasn't macabre like Icarus. Each memory he recalled was filled with either useless monologues he had with himself in the mirror or an execution of some kind or another. He called himself a manifestation of evil, and the declaration interested him greatly. It was true that Max's history of cruelty and violence was small game in comparison to the drug lord's. But sadly, Max had a life to live that didn't concern unimportant creatures or people. The bloodlust he saw in Icarus was strange to him; was this common or was today a special day? He couldn't tell when it came to Icarus. One moment he was drawing himself in, the next he would fall back. Each calculation his mind made pulled him in a different direction. It made him difficult to predict.
While it almost sounded like his offer sounded unbalanced, Icarus stood to gain the most out of the deal. What exactly did Icarus take Max for? Was he under the impression that Max was in any way some low tier Shifter? "How many forms do you think I've stolen in the past few centuries? Three? Five? Ten? I've stolen more forms than you can count. Hell, I think I've stolen more forms than I can count. Wait... " Pausing momentarily to attempt to count his forms, a dumbfounded look crossed his face when he lost count after some odd 80 forms. "s**t, lost count. But that's the point, amirite? " Rolling backward on the large table and using his arms to lift and stabilize him into a better position, Max positioned himself on the edge of the table, with his legs crossed. "Hotstuff, I'm gonna give it to you straight. Hopefully you'll repay the favor and give it to me any way you li-... right. Onward. Wait. Where was I?" Distracted by the view, he lost his train of thought. Sex was distracting, even the thought of it. "I talk a big game, but you can't have this. This tushy is too toned to just hand out, alright. I know you want it, but you have to work for it."
Again, he'd found himself distracted. Though it took a few moments, he resumed as if he had never stopped. "My travels have taken me far. So far that I've obtained thousands of forms. Adriel?" Slowly, he skin morphed, growing in size and muscle as he changed his form to his old friend's. Using the Diabolos' voice, Max performed what he believed was a perfect imitation of Adriel. "Erm. I'm the King of Gloria en Valle. I'm so strong. My powers of electromagnetism allows me to jack anyone off from half way across the world and rock their world at the same time. Erm. My name inexplicably changed from Brydent de Valois to Adriel Helios because I thought it sounded cooler and less douchey. Erm. Erm. Erm." Again, his form changed. Receding into a much smaller frame with elongated beach blonde hair and nude mounds of flesh on her chest. "Oh, sir. I seem to be a bit lost. I was just thinking about how perky my boobs were when I realized that I was ******** a Diabolos. Oh, the shame I've wrought my family. Oh Michael. Oh, Solaris! Oh! OH!" Again, his form changed, taking on a darker haired fellow from his time in Luimira. A Shade. "Shadow tentacles. Shadow tentacles. Did you hear that? I think I hear shadow tentacles coming to ******** you in every hole. Tentacle alert. Tentacle alert." With each form he changed into, the speed in which he changed increased faster and faster until his skin looked almost grayish from the rapid alternation of forms in his roster. Suddenly, it slowed, and he shifted into his final form of his roster.
Obtaining it rather recently, it would seem like a mirror. An identify copy of the man before him now faced himself. Icarus. Imitating his deep, smooth voice, he spoke for the first time in his new form."Since you were being so stingy about things before, I think I'll just take a peak for myself." Slowly, his hand crawled toward the waistline of his pants biting his lower lip in anticipation. After a brief peek, he eyes widened slightly. "Wow. Talk about a shower, not a grower. Ever think about making a cast of this thing and selling you own line of dildos? Wait! That's my idea! I'll do it!" Using the form of someone who was still in the room never went well. Something about seeing themselves made them angry. If Max had seen an identical version of himself, he would have sodomized it, rode it, straddled it, ******** it, sucked it, anything and everything really. But idle dreaming never did anyone any good. Shifting back to his own form, he rested his head on his left hand. Max never really liked planning and strategizing. His plans remained fun and successful when he winged it. "My goal is purge Val'Ghast of all of the false kings and emperors and lords and dukes. s**t's annoying trying to keep up with all of junk. You know they colonized my favorite shitting hole? Yeah, right? Not cool. Place was so serene, and the leaves were soft and gentle."
King of the Monsters? It had been done before, though his reign wasn't long. Truthfully, Max sought no recognition. His desires didn't really extend past desires of the flesh and mind. But Icarus? He wanted to be in the limelight, which seemed oddly out of character for a secret drug lord of a notorious cartel. Icarus' condition for his help included Max submitting to him. "What will you do if your submissive disobeys? Would you inflict pain? How? Spanking? Choking? God, please. Yes. Let it be choking." Leaning forward to close the already tight space between the two of them, Max remained silent. With a nod, he agreed to the man's terms. In his mind, he gleefully imagined the ways things would pan out. In the end, all he cared for was the promise of choking. "You're a lucky man. You get to see this fine piece of a** everyday now. You're welcome, buddy."
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2016 12:56 am
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
He was pleasantly surprised to see that Max had already attained a difficult form, one of Adriel Helios. He looked taller in person, and his face - the only thing more intimidating than his body, and the gun he wielded that had been held by Zachariah for thousands of years. The impersonation was totally off, but it was funny. He was sure that when the time was right, Max would be able to pull it off properly. "Didn't he change his name because it was his birth name, whereas Brydent was-" He paused. Why did he care exactly? He didn't. That's right. The rest of the forms annoyed him. Some naked blond chick talking about ******** a Diabolos - probably not Adriel, as from what Icarus had heard, he was into servile bitchboys only. Then, a man with a form seething in shadows. He swore he almost recognized that face . . .
"Oh," he said. "Another man involved in the killing of Zachariah. You've certainly got around with our world's legendary figures, haven't you?" He smirked. Max was a goofball and a troll, and he honestly seemed like he had tourettes, but he was certainly exceptional at gathering the bodies of powerful individuals. That could be useful in other ways, too. For example, if he wished to know for sure whether or not he could beat the King of Valle, he could merely fight Max's stolen form. Of course, it wouldn't be as powerful as the man himself, but it could gauge the possibilities of victory and defeat. But that was for later.
When Max took his own form, he actually didn't get upset and didn't visibly seem to mind. He'd already made the mistake of touching him, and he wasn't going to shame himself by showing anger in the face of his stolen visage. Honestly, this gave him an opportunity to look at himself properly. He summarized his appearance as actually being significantly hotter than he remembered from the mirror. He supposed people did look better in person, in the flesh, without being revealed by a false source such as a picture or a reflection. As for Max reaching into his pants - Icarus' pants - and feeling himself up, well. The Cordonus, as if such a thing were even possible, almost blushed at the whole thing - but he didn't. Instead, he chuckled and waved off the man's incorrect statement. "I'm a shower and a grower. See for yourself." That was a really strange offer to make, telling Max he wouldn't care if he fapped his falsely taken visage for the sake of sizing up his genitals, but Icarus was as shameless as Max was.
The rest of what Max said was merely just more words added to the pile. Yes, yes, his shitting hole was in danger. Terrible. Icarus didn't care about where he took a dump. As far as he was concerned, he was constantly taking a dump considering how constantly he talked. Most of what came from his mouth was fecal matter. Honestly, Icarus was at least a little tilted after having the naked blond chick shoved in his face. "I don't know what I'll do if you disobey. I haven't decided that yet." He placed his hand beneath his chin and stroked it, falsely pondering. "I know! I'll throw a Flask of Molten Torture at you and raze you with magma as you die screaming. Mm." He almost fantasized. He hadn't gotten to use the Flask of Molten Torture since the guy who slept with a chancellor of Aramil and told them secrets about the cartel during his orgasm.
Anyway, unimportant. It was time to move on from this conversation. They'd laid out their deals, made their arrangements, and now it was time to live on them. Max would swear loyalty to Icarus, he'd earn wealth for his cartel, and he'd secure him the Kingdom when they had removed of Kamilla. Allegedly. All of these things were mere possibilities in honest truth, For all he knew Max would sell out his secrets and try to kill him in his sleep. Luckily, Icarus didn't sleep, but the possibility for betrayal was the same. Cordonus betrayed almost everyone, so Icarus was well prepared for that potential. He still, in his mind, was capable of killing the Shifter if he contested his authority to rule this cartel, or Val'Ghast. Knowing he was capable of handling Max, he decided to take it all less seriously and play around in return. "You're a tease anyway. How many times have you mentioned your a**, or my d**k, or one of those variables? Too many. You'd think you would have learned the limits of cruelty after being an aging ******** for so long. Instead, even knowing that I'm Lust, you try to rile me up." And here would begin his lame moral speech, one of the few times Icarus didn't sound like an infallible supervillain.
This time, though, he'd mix it up with a bit of the weirdness that Max taught him; that shocking, provocative manner of speech that would make Fraxonian ladies faint to their couch. "Luckily, the greatest counteraction to addiction is avoidance and prevention. I may be cursed with an infatuation with the desires of the flesh, but by the will of Michael I've remained abstinent in the face of these dangerous desires and therefore do not even know these pleasures so as to fall into their trap. Bless my crotch with the inaccuracy necessary to fall away from your backside. In the name of Michael I pray, sahmen." He was mostly being satirical, although he was sort of honest about avoiding sex to prevent himself from falling into Lust's addiction. While he was Lust, and thus could overcome it, the entity that had lodged itself inside of him wished to run the show. As much as he found temptation in the visualization of Max's, as he described perfect bubble butt, he decided that his ambition came before any of his mortal desires which would interfere with it. So the little Shifter would just have to tuck his balls right and stop salivating over his table.
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2016 5:15 am
""
The Shade he took the form from didn't exactly seem like the god slaying kind, but Icarus said he was. In truth, Max had bested him in combat quite some time ago, and rather easily, too. "If Kumori Hell was a godslayer, then I must be a titan, because I kicked his a**. Hard." In truth, the forms he had in his roster prior to obtaining Icarus was almost child's play compared to the list of targets he wanted to obtain. Admittedly, his list fell short by four names once the Mazdakist Gods ascended. He wouldn't even try to caught in that kind of mess. Max might have been impulsive, but he wasn't dumb. Well, not really dumb. Just when it mattered. For years, Max paraded across the world as an idiotic buffoon, and almost every time, his stupidity was mistaken for weakness. It was the excellent cover for him to obtain all of the forms he could ever want. Because of this, Shapeshifter gained a reputation for being exceptional liars. It was only natural for anyone to distrust a Shapeshifter. However, Max had nothing to gain from lying. He would assist someone who wanted fame and glory, while he reaped many of the benefits without having to receive the infamy or notoriety. The deal benefitted Max in ways that Icarus would never understand, though he'd let Icarus find that bit out on his own. Not that it was hard to piece together. Why would a Shifter willingly compromise his forms? Max was cute as ********, abandoning this fine piece of a** would hurt more than getting his n****e pierced. "Remind me to get my n****e pierced, okay? I forget things a lot. Too many things going on in my head at once."
Suddenly, he gasped and leaned back, giving the Shifter his much needed space from Icarus, who was unexpectedly going with his advances instead of awkwardly cowering away. " Sharing time! I like to play dumb a lot. Truthfully, I'm just really impulsive. Also, I'm a virgin. Yes, a 800 year old virgin. I've never bedded a single person in my life." It probably didn't make sense for the Shifter to always tease when the reciprocation of the topic made him flustered and blush bright red. The idea of really committing any form of sexual act threw him off. The shifter never really had the time for all of that stuff. Instead, he just spouted sexual things until people became so uncomfortable that they left."That's such a load off. Giddit? Load? No? Well, my cult thought it was funny. You should try taking some notes from them on hospitality. You know? I walked in there one time and drew on a rock and now they worship me." There were several primitive tribes spread all across the forests of Kranilla that lived like hermits. "Actually, I'll tell them about you. They won't like that I've brought a lover. They keep offering me their sons and daughters, but they are freaks. Like, one of them tried to touch my nono square! Can you believe it? "
The idea of a flask of magma was absurd! Magma was underground! "I think you mean lava, computer man." Who needed those when you could just change into a blob of lava. Obtaining that form was rather hard. "Have you ever tried wrestling a lava blob? I tried to bodyslam one... it wasn't pretty. Thankfully, as you pointed out, I'm a titan. So I lived. I honestly think that my body doesn't know how to die. Interesting, right? Hug some lava and then I'm fixed once I shift my form again? Some might call that overpowered." Sliding off of the table to stand on his feet on the floor, he approached one of the skinwalkers in the room. They were hideous. Why would Icarus create fugly robotic orangutans? "Brocarus, your pets are gross." Upon being called a tease, Max dismissed it. Of course he was a tease. All virgins were. "And you aren't a tease? You can't look like that and expect people to not drool over you. But if it makes you feel better, I'll change a few details about my form to make it less perfect so that I don't steal the show when we show up to places. I mean, sometimes I can't control the sexy, so if I steal the show anyways... I wouldn't know what to do to even the playing field."
If he recalled from Icarus' memories, the Cordonus was also a virgin. How was a virgin also Lust? Max knew how it happened, but stealing memories never came with the thoughts going on in the targets head at the time. Just images. "Tell me, how does Lust stay a virgin for so long? I can tell you why I'm still a virgin. 40 score and 3 years ago, I once saw this d**k that was discharging this nasty viscous fluid. They called it a STD. So I abstained by the will of 'not wanting to get a b***h pregnant or getting an STD'. "Smiling, Max spun around to face Icarus once more. "This is nice isn't it? Us getting to know each other? Before you know it, we'll be sharing enemas! Did you bring a toothbrush? I might need to borrow it. Wait. No. I'll use Almahar's. Dude had great teeth, so he must've made a good decision on a toothbrush and paste. He won't exactly need it anymore. You should probably alert the families of the people I killed. I'm not sure how this cartel works, but if every meeting is packed with death and acid, I'll bring my special stash and we can spark up before the meeting starts, okay?" Recalling something Almahar mentioned about a room being prepared for Icarus, he relayed the information to the Cordonus. "So from now on, we go everywhere together. If you try to leave, just know that I'm like, a great stalker. I learned from the best. So that mean's you can stay here, homeboy."
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