Truth be told, Delia didn't like 'getting into the middle of things'. It was always better when others did the less-savory work for her, put themselves into danger, and she - at the end - reaped the benefits. Now, though, that wasn't really an option. With everyone tied up with their own personal battles, it left her and her alone free to take care of the mage, before she could cast something else detrimental to their escape.
Thankfully for her, the mage's own instructions to 'take out the centaur' had cleared a rather nice open area right to her. As much as she might PREFER to stay behind those she called 'allies', when push came to shove....she wasn't entirely helpless. Growling under her breath at the haughty mage's words and her exchange with Mona, Delia's long, spaded and spiked tail flickers in agitation "Good ideas, huh? Well, here is an even better one...!". Enough sass for one day - between Garth and Mona, there was very little room for a mouthy mage as well. One crewman in her way, stumbling about blindly. All the remaining soldiers occupied...now seemed as good a time as any.
(( Grab the mage!: 1d20+19 28 ))
Like an infernal bolt of lightning, Delia takes off, darting with un-natural speed past the staggering crewman, her spell hastening her movements to what seems like a blur. A blur that closes upon the mage with murderous speed, and - with a whumpf! - opens it's wings, engulfing her in the black, leathery folds in the span of a half-second. She more feels than sees Delia's hand wrap around one of her wrists, forcing it behind her back and pulling her into a sort of 'half-hug'. Her other hand is immediately wrapped up in the long, slightly-spiked tail that protruded from the succubus' shapely hips, surprisingly strong despite it's slender, lithe appearance.
"....Let's have a long overdue dinner." Her voice veritably drips with sexuality, and the imperial feels herself bodily pushed up against the stack of crates behind her, Delia's soft bosom pressing tightly against her own. The scent of the succubus - a sort of sweet and spicy scent that, despite her many days spent in a dark, dank cell, was incredibly appealing, leaving her head swimming slightly - floods across her like a wave, followed closely by the heat of the infernal woman's body pressing up so tightly against her own "Mmm...much better....can't have you casting all those spells, being a nuisance now, can we? Not when there's so many better things you could do." Leaning in, Delia flicks her tongue from between her soft lips, curling it tenderly across the side of the woman's neck, a little shiver of delight coursing through her body. Mmm, she could TASTE the magic in the poor woman, could feel her vitality, her haughtiness, her sass....could feel everything, TASTE everything....
...She somehow doubted that sass would last, after a good hour or so slowly digesting inside of her stomach.
"...Like pad my chest..."
((Delia is shifting her song to dance! Same bonuses))
Rather than continuing her song, Delia begins to gyrate her hips, her wings fluttering in time to an unheard beat, flapping lightly against the mage woman's shoulders and back "Come here....let's get you where you belong..." To say the sight of the nearly bare succubus' butt shifting and swaying to whatever strange beat filled her head was distracting...was an understatement in the extreme. It was so perfectly curved, so rounded, her thighs so smooth and attractive...even the more cool-headed individuals like Garth couldn't help but feel their blood boil, an effect that was strangely similar to her singing, if not even a bit more powerful. To the mage...it was equally as pleasant in a strange way, despite the direness of her situation. The sensation of the succubus' attractive body grinding up against her, the softness of those breasts squeezing against her, the firmness of her slender, enticing belly rubbing against her own...was distracting. Not as distracting, though, as the sight of her tongue gently curling across her soft, pink lips, the pillowy mounds glistening gently with saliva.
Throwing her leg around the mage's hips, Delia presses her even tighter up against the mound of boxes, groaning gently in excitement. Oooh, she'd waited. She'd passed up her meal in the cells below, she'd contained herself from devouring the bleeding-out ratboy...but she could wait no longer. Her stomach felt like a void, gnawing at her very core...and the taste of magic, the scent of the woman's vitality, was like a feast. She had to have her...and there was no sense in waiting any longer.
Delia's free hand boldly slips around behind the mage, cupping her rump and giving it a firm, appreciative squeeze through the material of her pants "Mmm...do squirm for me. I like lively meals. Pity I can't strip you first...would love to taste every inch of you before you settled into my tummy....but beggers can't be choosers, now can they?"
With her head lodged against the crates, Delia darts her head in, pressing her soft lips tightly against the mage's own, her intense, glowing red eyes looking deep into the woman's. Lips, soft and just slightly wet, caress the mage's, before locking, drawing her into a deep - and potentially one-sided - kiss. A kiss that, more and more, seems to deepen...Delia's lips slowly starting to widen, sliding around the mage's own...then around her chin...
((Mage is grappled! Aaaaand...Delia will start eating her next round. x3 ))
Stats!