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penancememes2021-06-26 02:37 am
penancemods) wrote in penancememes2021-06-26 02:37 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME #25
Arrival
"Judgement has come upon you. God has deemed you worthy of Hell. But don't worry, it can still be undone," comes a soothing voice that echoes all around you. The voice promises comfort, hope even.
It may seem like a nightmare at first, despite all of that. Full of hellfire nipping at your skin and a sensation of being pulled down no matter how much you struggle or cry for help. Wretched, unseen hands pull at you, grip tight at your body, tighten on your throat, skeletal fingers grab at your face, slide in your mouth and jab at your eyes as they struggle for purchase. It feels like for a moment, they may snap your neck as they tug and pull. The more you resist, the more phantom hands are added to your struggling body.
It feels like they could tear you apart if you let them. The only thing to do is to let go and stop fighting.
And so you do.
Darkness consumes you for a second.
Initially, everyone opens their eyes to a long, dark corridor made of stone. They find themselves in what appears to be a long queue with other sinners, palm bloody with a contract clutched in their uninjured hand that they don't remember signing.
Characters find their bodies feel heavy and stiff, bruised with odd hand prints here and there that they received during their journey down below. A massive headache throbs behind their temples.
If they look at the list in their hand, they'll notice it's written on with their blood. That explains the wound then. It's an old piece of parchment that details every sin they've committed.
As they move along the queue, they'll find a demon waiting to pass them a communication device that looks almost like a very old Blackberry type phone.
"Welcome to Penance," the demon says gruffly before motioning them on without an ounce of courtesy. "Don't hold up the line. This trip is gonna take longer, but at least you get a vacation..."
Once characters have their device and their contracts, they're ushered further down the hall until they come to a set of stairs. They seem to go on and wind forever, but eventually, they come upon what appears to be a door that's alight with white energy. Stepping through, they find themselves on an island.
There's a demon with striking animal features waiting at the start of a long path where an old castle can be seen looming over a quaint, old village. There's music on the air, celebrations clearly taking place. It's explained that while Lucifer rests and recovers, Mammon will be taking his place. Hell is, for the moment, a pleasurable experience they will heartily insist.
Unfortunately, there is a bit of a trek ahead still. The demon urges them on.
Stand Your Ground With the carnival leaving, vanishing seemingly overnight, and sinners finding their animal features fading into bad dreams, Lucifer is preparing two ships for the voyage home in a couple of weeks. He seems rather anxious to get back to Penance after the carnival's grotesque entertainment at the expense of his sinners, although he seems to strain to maintain good relations with Mammon. The local demons remain accommodating and friendly for the moment as well, seemingly not finding anything at all wrong with their previous behavior.
The tavern is still bustling, the brothels are still enticing, and everything seems largely back to normal. There are back alleys for the additional mischief of drugs, pain, and pleasure as usual. There are busy shops and salons. Things one may not always find back under Lucifer's care, so sinners would be wise to spoil themselves one last time!
Additionally, there's the feeling of magic in the air that wasn't there before. It's not ominous, it's not terrifying. It's a tingle against the skin or a feeling of exhilaration when one is out and exposed to it. Curiously, things begin to happen. Those artistically inclined will find their sketches coming to life over night and causing mischief. Sinners who have no interest in art will still find sketches drawn on windows and the sides of buildings all throughout the tiny village. They may even witness these things coming to life if they're out late enough!
Animals may also develop an ability to speak over the next few days, whether it's demanding to be fed or revealing some embarrassing thing they've seen their master (or their master's friends) do in private. Though their population has been depleted thanks to sinner antics, these particular hybrids eagerly scurry up to guests to deliver acorns. If opened, the acorn will share a message. They seem intent to make a little bit of mischief for their trouble and may reveal feelings others have for you, something bad from home, or an ominous message to be wary, it will vary. It may also carry a much more important message such as The Veiled Order awaits your return or Barbas isn't done yet, Mammon's greed will be the end of him is also a rather popular one. Shouldn't have trusted the apples, but that's just silly, isn't it? They were perfectly fine apples!
The fun seems almost at an end as days go on though. There are whispers in the air that Lucifer is planning a bit of a detour for some sinners to explore cult activity. But those are just rumors for now! Nothing more than whispers in the wind.
A few days into the last two weeks of the trip, the weather seems to take a bit of a turn. There's an almost unseasonable chill in the air, with a steady rain that follows. It's a mix of water and blood, which makes it a bit of a chore to adventure too much in it. Raincoats and umbrellas are available for all guests in the castle. The local demons seem to not mind much at all, dancing in the puddles of rain or playing freely in the streets. They seem to be rather satisfied with weather they don't see much of.
While the carnival is out of town, there are still some goods that remain in the form of plush toys of Lucifer, Lilith, Mammon, and even a couple of Barbas. Strangely enough, there may also be one or two available of sinners, seemingly at random. There are also hell fish one can buy for pets if the dragons don't tickle your fancy!
A Curse Befalls the Wicked What would such a fantastical setting be without a visiting old witch? One evening, in steps an old crone to the village. Where did she come from? No one knows. How did she get in? Uncertain. The local demons seem to be rather standoffish with the way she goes from shop to shop, asking for food or drink or item that they refuse to give. She's an outsider that was not invited by their ruler, she's not deserving of their hospitality. She unsettles the animals in the pet shops and those loose in the village, she spreads unrest wherever her path leads. Looking at her too long sends a disturbing shiver down one's spine.
Still, despite the lukewarm welcome, she eventually approaches sinners to plea for help or to chat or even simply to ask the time of day. While her presence is unnerving, it's recommended to take caution. Sinners, be wary! Slight this witch in any way and you will receive her wrath -- and her curses! She spits her magic in a vile and ancient tongue, turning from old lady to something downright disturbingly demonic.
What the curse does will depend heavily on how the sinner managed to anger the witch:
For rudeness or dismissiveness shown towards the witch, some may find themselves drawn into a tale as old as time. Cursed with the supposed wickedness of their soul on display for all to see and a tiny rose. As if that wasn't bad enough, they will have to convinced another that they are not as terrible as their appearance indicates. Desperation may lead to the desire to kidnap another or threaten, for as the petals drop from the rose, the witch threatens that their physical attributes will remain. How their beastly appearance manifests is left up to player discretion.
If another sinner can find love or understanding for their captor, then the spell will be broken.
For aggression or violence, sinners will find themselves reduced to a frog or other unsavory tiny animal, with little other choice but to try to find someone who is willing to give them a little kiss to restore them back to their mortal form. Failing to do so will mean they will be stuck in this form until the witch decides to have mercy, or Lucifer finds a way to undo the spell.
However, for kindness or sympathy, sinners will be rewarded. They will receive a golden medallion with a ruby stone in the center. The witch will promise that all who receive one will be protected against zealots or those who would do them harm since the stone will light up whenever the Veiled Order is near.
Eventually, by the end of the second week, there will begin a hunt for this naughty witch who has been keeping herself hidden. And similar to a tale we are all familiar with, she will be put to death by means of being cooked alive in a fire pit in the center of the village. Grotesque and violent perhaps, but the demons seem to rather rejoice at the display, glad that this will also break all the curses plaguing the village.
Reach Up High WARNINGS: foot torture, severing of limbs, loss of control.
There is always an opportunity to learn and better one's self in every venture you undertake and now is no different, sinners! While treatment of the old witch may factor in for one's journey on redemption, there will be a chance to remove one sin from one's contract!
"Unfortunately, all good things must end, darling," Lucifer's voice rings out in the ears of all present sinners, familiar to some and new to others. He's nowhere to be found, but the tone of his voice is reassuring.
"And I am to aid you on your path to redemption still. The dreadful old witch has seen fit to curse some of you, I realize. the shoes upon your feet will soon fill you with the insatiable need to dance... and certainly, this seems almost deceptively silly, but the urge will not leave until you have confessed a sin you are most ashamed of. Loud and proud for all to hear. If you resist, darling, you will dance to your death. It will be an ugly, dreadful affair, I assure you."
It starts like an itch at first, to move your feet, to move your arms. It's easy to ignore in the beginning, the restlessness itching just beneath one's skin. It threatens to grow and consume though the longer it goes on though.
"Of course, should those around you feel like taking pity upon you, then they may aid you. Should they find a way to cut the shoes from your feet as they begin to meld with your flesh, or severe them entirely, the urge will leave you. Don't worry, my dear friend Mammon has healers on staff to help your injuries. And I do remind you, pain can be a centering force. It can also show you who you truly are inside. Please embrace it and do not fear it."
The longer sinners resist, the more they'll feel this urge to just move, dance. Even when their feet begin to bleed and their bodies begin to wear out, they will not be able to stop.
"And do not worry about being the one to inflict pain, my dear guests. It is for a good purpose... sometimes we have to hurt those we love to help them in the end."
If the shoes are removed, either by cutting them from the flesh or removing feet entirely, both sinners will earn a sin removed. If the sinner afflicted announced one of their worst sins, they will find it removed from their list. If they dance until they die, well... they died for stubbornness and will find the sin remains.
You Mustn't Be Late for the Ball And what would Hell be without a farewell celebration? While Lucifer seems to be very uncomfortable after his last experience at a party, where guests attempted to drink his blood, he is polite enough to make an appearance in the grand ballroom in Mammon's castle. Dressed to absolute perfection for the event, Lucifer will urge his sinners to come to the celebration as well. Mustn't be rude to their savior after all. He may shy away from center stage or try to slip out, but sinners shouldn't let that discourage them from enjoying the grand affair! Happening towards the end of this little journey to foreign lands, the ballroom will be lit up brightly and music that encourages dancing and a good mood will fill the air. Food galore is available, as well as free flowing drinks, drugs, and anything else one could want!
There is one little tiny catch though! All who attend must put on the formal wear left for them in their hotels. The style of the clothes made available will veer towards old fashioned. Lovely suits for men, extravagant ball gowns for women. Should anyone show up not dressed in everything given, even including corsets and other uncomfortable items, they will find themselves unfortunately naked. Will they endure the shame or will they cave and put on proper attire? Mammon has tried to be accommodating, but truly, he only asks this one thing...
Should anyone try to remove articles or not follow any sort of etiquette proper of their setting during the ball, they will find their corsets tightening, their shoes undeniably uncomfortable, their waistcoast growing more restrictive... Eventually, it will become very apparent that it would be wise to respect the lord of this land's wishes!
Other than that one minor detail though, tonight is a night of celebration. There seems to be something in the air that fuels a good mood and merrymaking during the ball, despite any nagging discomfort. The ball will extend on through the early morning hours, and include an unusual party game. It seems that Mammon is a romantic at heart. There will be names drawn from a hat at some point during the event and surprise, it's for a marriage ceremony! What's a bit of arranged marriage between friends? It's merely a fun part of the evening... although still a binding contract like those made during the casino. While not every name will be called during the ball, it seems as if Mammon has tried to play matchmaker with enough sinners to start some rather lovely marriages. There will be an officiant available to carry out the ceremony and refusal isn't accepted... and possibly even punished. If not punished, sinners will find themselves dosed with something that will make them eager for their upcoming vows.
None of this could possibly because adultery or not honoring vows is a sin. It's just for amusement, that's all. Don't worry so much, sinners! Guests are free to return to their rooms at any point. Ah, well, just go to sleep and wish for better in the morning? Hopefully no ribs or toes were broken by tightening, unforgiving corsets or shoes intended to punish either.
[Note: While these marriages are arranged ICly, players are encouraged to talk and decide their partners for themselves and may marry multiple people through the course of the evening. Polyamorous relationships are hardly an issue in Hell!]
Follow Me Down WARNINGS: sexual themes, somnophilia, dub/non-con potentials, potential vore, animal-like traits, mating.
Those inflicted with the Sleeping Beauty curse will unfortunately find themselves in a deep slumber throughout Mammon's lands, dropping wherever they were. Ever eager to do their part to help sinners along, the succubi of these lands take their sleeping forms and dress them in extravagant fashions and lingerie. They also lay them in beds full of flowers in inviting, provocative poses. If sinners near these sleeping forms, they will be taken with a sweet scent given by the flowers that will incite a need. The aphrodisiacs will be potent, all consuming.
After all, what will awaken these sleeping beauties isn't simply true love's kiss, but the most satisfying orgasm. This may mean people will have to take multiple turns to rouse the sleeping person. Of course, there will be toys, aids, and various kinds of lube available to aid in whatever sinners need to accomplish their task.
For those who aren't quite interested in rousing the beauties, there are other antics to be had! People may find themselves cursed with wolf-like tendencies that may make them want to devour the innocent or defenseless in every sense of the word. It may also make certain anatomical changes ranging from fur to tails to the ability to knot while mating. Sharper teeth, better to eat one with, may also be included in the curse.
Wildcard/Misc. Don't see something you love but still want to get a feel for the game? Check out our extensive list of LOCATIONS and write up your very own prompt however you'd like to! You can also add a "NETWORK" post option to your TL for quick, easy, and fun interactions.
And without further ado: Welcome to our new TDM for the July 1st app round! As always, potential appers and characters already in game are welcomed to jump right in! This TDM counts as an additional game event as well as game canon for those coming into the game. If you app and are accepted, TDM tags become game canon and can be used for AC! Please have fun and don't hesitate to ask any questions you might have down below.
If you have questions, comments, suggestions, etc., go here.
Navigation
| Premise
| Arrival
| FAQ
Rules | Taken | Reserves | Applications
Network | Logs | OOC | Memes
It may seem like a nightmare at first, despite all of that. Full of hellfire nipping at your skin and a sensation of being pulled down no matter how much you struggle or cry for help. Wretched, unseen hands pull at you, grip tight at your body, tighten on your throat, skeletal fingers grab at your face, slide in your mouth and jab at your eyes as they struggle for purchase. It feels like for a moment, they may snap your neck as they tug and pull. The more you resist, the more phantom hands are added to your struggling body.
It feels like they could tear you apart if you let them. The only thing to do is to let go and stop fighting.
And so you do.
Darkness consumes you for a second.
Initially, everyone opens their eyes to a long, dark corridor made of stone. They find themselves in what appears to be a long queue with other sinners, palm bloody with a contract clutched in their uninjured hand that they don't remember signing.
Characters find their bodies feel heavy and stiff, bruised with odd hand prints here and there that they received during their journey down below. A massive headache throbs behind their temples.
If they look at the list in their hand, they'll notice it's written on with their blood. That explains the wound then. It's an old piece of parchment that details every sin they've committed.
As they move along the queue, they'll find a demon waiting to pass them a communication device that looks almost like a very old Blackberry type phone.
"Welcome to Penance," the demon says gruffly before motioning them on without an ounce of courtesy. "Don't hold up the line. This trip is gonna take longer, but at least you get a vacation..."
Once characters have their device and their contracts, they're ushered further down the hall until they come to a set of stairs. They seem to go on and wind forever, but eventually, they come upon what appears to be a door that's alight with white energy. Stepping through, they find themselves on an island.
There's a demon with striking animal features waiting at the start of a long path where an old castle can be seen looming over a quaint, old village. There's music on the air, celebrations clearly taking place. It's explained that while Lucifer rests and recovers, Mammon will be taking his place. Hell is, for the moment, a pleasurable experience they will heartily insist.
Unfortunately, there is a bit of a trek ahead still. The demon urges them on.
Stand Your Ground With the carnival leaving, vanishing seemingly overnight, and sinners finding their animal features fading into bad dreams, Lucifer is preparing two ships for the voyage home in a couple of weeks. He seems rather anxious to get back to Penance after the carnival's grotesque entertainment at the expense of his sinners, although he seems to strain to maintain good relations with Mammon. The local demons remain accommodating and friendly for the moment as well, seemingly not finding anything at all wrong with their previous behavior.
The tavern is still bustling, the brothels are still enticing, and everything seems largely back to normal. There are back alleys for the additional mischief of drugs, pain, and pleasure as usual. There are busy shops and salons. Things one may not always find back under Lucifer's care, so sinners would be wise to spoil themselves one last time!
Additionally, there's the feeling of magic in the air that wasn't there before. It's not ominous, it's not terrifying. It's a tingle against the skin or a feeling of exhilaration when one is out and exposed to it. Curiously, things begin to happen. Those artistically inclined will find their sketches coming to life over night and causing mischief. Sinners who have no interest in art will still find sketches drawn on windows and the sides of buildings all throughout the tiny village. They may even witness these things coming to life if they're out late enough!
Animals may also develop an ability to speak over the next few days, whether it's demanding to be fed or revealing some embarrassing thing they've seen their master (or their master's friends) do in private. Though their population has been depleted thanks to sinner antics, these particular hybrids eagerly scurry up to guests to deliver acorns. If opened, the acorn will share a message. They seem intent to make a little bit of mischief for their trouble and may reveal feelings others have for you, something bad from home, or an ominous message to be wary, it will vary. It may also carry a much more important message such as The Veiled Order awaits your return or Barbas isn't done yet, Mammon's greed will be the end of him is also a rather popular one. Shouldn't have trusted the apples, but that's just silly, isn't it? They were perfectly fine apples!
The fun seems almost at an end as days go on though. There are whispers in the air that Lucifer is planning a bit of a detour for some sinners to explore cult activity. But those are just rumors for now! Nothing more than whispers in the wind.
A few days into the last two weeks of the trip, the weather seems to take a bit of a turn. There's an almost unseasonable chill in the air, with a steady rain that follows. It's a mix of water and blood, which makes it a bit of a chore to adventure too much in it. Raincoats and umbrellas are available for all guests in the castle. The local demons seem to not mind much at all, dancing in the puddles of rain or playing freely in the streets. They seem to be rather satisfied with weather they don't see much of.
While the carnival is out of town, there are still some goods that remain in the form of plush toys of Lucifer, Lilith, Mammon, and even a couple of Barbas. Strangely enough, there may also be one or two available of sinners, seemingly at random. There are also hell fish one can buy for pets if the dragons don't tickle your fancy!
A Curse Befalls the Wicked What would such a fantastical setting be without a visiting old witch? One evening, in steps an old crone to the village. Where did she come from? No one knows. How did she get in? Uncertain. The local demons seem to be rather standoffish with the way she goes from shop to shop, asking for food or drink or item that they refuse to give. She's an outsider that was not invited by their ruler, she's not deserving of their hospitality. She unsettles the animals in the pet shops and those loose in the village, she spreads unrest wherever her path leads. Looking at her too long sends a disturbing shiver down one's spine.
Still, despite the lukewarm welcome, she eventually approaches sinners to plea for help or to chat or even simply to ask the time of day. While her presence is unnerving, it's recommended to take caution. Sinners, be wary! Slight this witch in any way and you will receive her wrath -- and her curses! She spits her magic in a vile and ancient tongue, turning from old lady to something downright disturbingly demonic.
What the curse does will depend heavily on how the sinner managed to anger the witch:
For rudeness or dismissiveness shown towards the witch, some may find themselves drawn into a tale as old as time. Cursed with the supposed wickedness of their soul on display for all to see and a tiny rose. As if that wasn't bad enough, they will have to convinced another that they are not as terrible as their appearance indicates. Desperation may lead to the desire to kidnap another or threaten, for as the petals drop from the rose, the witch threatens that their physical attributes will remain. How their beastly appearance manifests is left up to player discretion.
If another sinner can find love or understanding for their captor, then the spell will be broken.
For aggression or violence, sinners will find themselves reduced to a frog or other unsavory tiny animal, with little other choice but to try to find someone who is willing to give them a little kiss to restore them back to their mortal form. Failing to do so will mean they will be stuck in this form until the witch decides to have mercy, or Lucifer finds a way to undo the spell.
However, for kindness or sympathy, sinners will be rewarded. They will receive a golden medallion with a ruby stone in the center. The witch will promise that all who receive one will be protected against zealots or those who would do them harm since the stone will light up whenever the Veiled Order is near.
Eventually, by the end of the second week, there will begin a hunt for this naughty witch who has been keeping herself hidden. And similar to a tale we are all familiar with, she will be put to death by means of being cooked alive in a fire pit in the center of the village. Grotesque and violent perhaps, but the demons seem to rather rejoice at the display, glad that this will also break all the curses plaguing the village.
Reach Up High WARNINGS: foot torture, severing of limbs, loss of control.
There is always an opportunity to learn and better one's self in every venture you undertake and now is no different, sinners! While treatment of the old witch may factor in for one's journey on redemption, there will be a chance to remove one sin from one's contract!
"Unfortunately, all good things must end, darling," Lucifer's voice rings out in the ears of all present sinners, familiar to some and new to others. He's nowhere to be found, but the tone of his voice is reassuring.
"And I am to aid you on your path to redemption still. The dreadful old witch has seen fit to curse some of you, I realize. the shoes upon your feet will soon fill you with the insatiable need to dance... and certainly, this seems almost deceptively silly, but the urge will not leave until you have confessed a sin you are most ashamed of. Loud and proud for all to hear. If you resist, darling, you will dance to your death. It will be an ugly, dreadful affair, I assure you."
It starts like an itch at first, to move your feet, to move your arms. It's easy to ignore in the beginning, the restlessness itching just beneath one's skin. It threatens to grow and consume though the longer it goes on though.
"Of course, should those around you feel like taking pity upon you, then they may aid you. Should they find a way to cut the shoes from your feet as they begin to meld with your flesh, or severe them entirely, the urge will leave you. Don't worry, my dear friend Mammon has healers on staff to help your injuries. And I do remind you, pain can be a centering force. It can also show you who you truly are inside. Please embrace it and do not fear it."
The longer sinners resist, the more they'll feel this urge to just move, dance. Even when their feet begin to bleed and their bodies begin to wear out, they will not be able to stop.
"And do not worry about being the one to inflict pain, my dear guests. It is for a good purpose... sometimes we have to hurt those we love to help them in the end."
If the shoes are removed, either by cutting them from the flesh or removing feet entirely, both sinners will earn a sin removed. If the sinner afflicted announced one of their worst sins, they will find it removed from their list. If they dance until they die, well... they died for stubbornness and will find the sin remains.
You Mustn't Be Late for the Ball And what would Hell be without a farewell celebration? While Lucifer seems to be very uncomfortable after his last experience at a party, where guests attempted to drink his blood, he is polite enough to make an appearance in the grand ballroom in Mammon's castle. Dressed to absolute perfection for the event, Lucifer will urge his sinners to come to the celebration as well. Mustn't be rude to their savior after all. He may shy away from center stage or try to slip out, but sinners shouldn't let that discourage them from enjoying the grand affair! Happening towards the end of this little journey to foreign lands, the ballroom will be lit up brightly and music that encourages dancing and a good mood will fill the air. Food galore is available, as well as free flowing drinks, drugs, and anything else one could want!
There is one little tiny catch though! All who attend must put on the formal wear left for them in their hotels. The style of the clothes made available will veer towards old fashioned. Lovely suits for men, extravagant ball gowns for women. Should anyone show up not dressed in everything given, even including corsets and other uncomfortable items, they will find themselves unfortunately naked. Will they endure the shame or will they cave and put on proper attire? Mammon has tried to be accommodating, but truly, he only asks this one thing...
Should anyone try to remove articles or not follow any sort of etiquette proper of their setting during the ball, they will find their corsets tightening, their shoes undeniably uncomfortable, their waistcoast growing more restrictive... Eventually, it will become very apparent that it would be wise to respect the lord of this land's wishes!
Other than that one minor detail though, tonight is a night of celebration. There seems to be something in the air that fuels a good mood and merrymaking during the ball, despite any nagging discomfort. The ball will extend on through the early morning hours, and include an unusual party game. It seems that Mammon is a romantic at heart. There will be names drawn from a hat at some point during the event and surprise, it's for a marriage ceremony! What's a bit of arranged marriage between friends? It's merely a fun part of the evening... although still a binding contract like those made during the casino. While not every name will be called during the ball, it seems as if Mammon has tried to play matchmaker with enough sinners to start some rather lovely marriages. There will be an officiant available to carry out the ceremony and refusal isn't accepted... and possibly even punished. If not punished, sinners will find themselves dosed with something that will make them eager for their upcoming vows.
None of this could possibly because adultery or not honoring vows is a sin. It's just for amusement, that's all. Don't worry so much, sinners! Guests are free to return to their rooms at any point. Ah, well, just go to sleep and wish for better in the morning? Hopefully no ribs or toes were broken by tightening, unforgiving corsets or shoes intended to punish either.
[Note: While these marriages are arranged ICly, players are encouraged to talk and decide their partners for themselves and may marry multiple people through the course of the evening. Polyamorous relationships are hardly an issue in Hell!]
Follow Me Down WARNINGS: sexual themes, somnophilia, dub/non-con potentials, potential vore, animal-like traits, mating.
Those inflicted with the Sleeping Beauty curse will unfortunately find themselves in a deep slumber throughout Mammon's lands, dropping wherever they were. Ever eager to do their part to help sinners along, the succubi of these lands take their sleeping forms and dress them in extravagant fashions and lingerie. They also lay them in beds full of flowers in inviting, provocative poses. If sinners near these sleeping forms, they will be taken with a sweet scent given by the flowers that will incite a need. The aphrodisiacs will be potent, all consuming.
After all, what will awaken these sleeping beauties isn't simply true love's kiss, but the most satisfying orgasm. This may mean people will have to take multiple turns to rouse the sleeping person. Of course, there will be toys, aids, and various kinds of lube available to aid in whatever sinners need to accomplish their task.
For those who aren't quite interested in rousing the beauties, there are other antics to be had! People may find themselves cursed with wolf-like tendencies that may make them want to devour the innocent or defenseless in every sense of the word. It may also make certain anatomical changes ranging from fur to tails to the ability to knot while mating. Sharper teeth, better to eat one with, may also be included in the curse.
Wildcard/Misc. Don't see something you love but still want to get a feel for the game? Check out our extensive list of LOCATIONS and write up your very own prompt however you'd like to! You can also add a "NETWORK" post option to your TL for quick, easy, and fun interactions.
And without further ado: Welcome to our new TDM for the July 1st app round! As always, potential appers and characters already in game are welcomed to jump right in! This TDM counts as an additional game event as well as game canon for those coming into the game. If you app and are accepted, TDM tags become game canon and can be used for AC! Please have fun and don't hesitate to ask any questions you might have down below.
If you have questions, comments, suggestions, etc., go here.
Rules | Taken | Reserves | Applications
Network | Logs | OOC | Memes
ah i thought we were already dead
no.
she turns away, lifting the glass of wine to her lips and taking another gentle sip. gloss transfers onto that clear crystal and sylvia has to take a moment to fix her warpaint, a quick glance into a pocket mirror before slipping it right back into her corset.
she will not acknowledge him.
instead, sylvia, with her head held high, her blonde hair all at once tied up and left to fall in faint ringlets around her neck, steps into the area cleared for the made matches. all eyes on her. only her. with the gathered crowds attention she can keep henry in the shadows and play a few poor souls for sympathy. ]
It seems as though the husband you have picked for me likes to keep a lady waiting at the altar. [ one hand on her hip, she almost sounds hurt beneath that thick veneer of her home country. ] No doubt you should have some sort of fitting punishment for his hesitant ways, no? Or maybe there is someone else, should he continue in his rude manner? Someone of the same ilk, though perhaps... a little less restrained?
[ that's a little pointed, a little like a shot from her pistol instead of wounded words from painted lips. ]
double dead
There aren't many who can keep up with your brand of charm. { He finally steps forward, stiff and cold. This is not how he imagined seeing her again. Like Sylvia, he keeps his tone level but with a hint of theatrics as he lets the almost practiced sounding lines roll off his tongue. Ah, but where would've he practiced this anyway? Surely he didn't think about this moment time and time again— how would he act? What he would say?— even if the circumstances were extremely different. }
Perhaps a little "restrained" can do some good in one's afterlife. Ah— but what is hell if not an excuse to release all those inhibitions? It's clear you've been thoroughly enjoying yourself.
thanks oogie
He shows himself! He believes me charming! [ and she appears genuinely happy for this, rustling right up to him and taking his arm in hers, batting her lashes up at henry. it's all for the crowd, her actions edging just on the right side of exaggerated, as though she is on stage at the theatre. a coquettish giggle, a gentle lean into henry's personal space. ] Dear husband, if you cannot enjoy yourself in Hell, where can you?
[ a question for the ages, and she presses herself just that little bit much closer, the swell of her breast against henry's arm. ]
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The tousled look of her hair that'd once been neatly pinned up looks intentional, the way she wraps her arm around his and presses against him. She's so warm, small and petite and yet so fiery inside he swears he can feel it burn through his jacket. He swallows thickly, gaze meeting hers with a heavy-lidded stare.
He can act. When there's too much attention to be had, he can play the part too. With his arm crooked just right for her to cling to, he recalls a familiar time. Maybe hell just made him weak... made him miss the things he once knew, so that when he's finally given a taste of it again, he falls hard for it. }
I've heard Rio de Janeiro is a good place to start.
{ She's had plenty of party destinations in the past, of course. }
From yourself, if I recall.
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with one brother so far absent, she will need to hold fast to this one. those who watch the movie once just for the show will say it's because she needs her guaranteed meal ticket, a pawn at her feet, someone she can toy with while this adventure begins. those who have paid attention to detail, who have listened to the commentary, will know what's humming just under the surface:
trepidation. if this truly is hell, then she is to find her footing with a familiar face.
she can see it in every detail on his finely sculpted model; she can feel the thrum of his pulse. she can feel him almost melt into her touch and she feels like it's almost too easy. ]
Rio de Janeiro is lovely this time of year. [ she takes a step backward now, hand sliding down his arm so she can slip her palm against his. fingers knot together, binding like their storyline. sylvia is now closing the distance between them and the officiate, each step lightly moved, perfectly placed.
sylvia knows better than to trust something easy. ] I prefer Greece. The sea breeze, I find, is the best aphrodisiac.
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Even if they know perfectly well how much of a train-wreck things were.
Trepidation. That's a good word to describe all of this, even for Henry as he's found himself almost comfortably used to the horror and mortification that Penance can bring. }
That's too bad, love. There's no such lovely sea breezes here.
{ An attempt is made to remain aloof, despite his body's reactions. His hand clenches around hers just enough to be a touch uncomfortable. Like he's trying to make a point. }
There's not much of anything.
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[ almost a purr, she speaks those words, returning his tight grasp with a hard squeeze of her own. her heels click methodically with each perfect step. ]
Your eyes are all the ocean I need.
[ it's so easy to slip back into flattery with henry. travis always needed a firmer hand, a crack of the whip... but henry? he needed a light touch more often than not. sylvia comes to a halt now in front of the officiate and the demons around them, and she draws his body closer to hers, allowing henry a long, lingering scene of flawless white skin pressed into a too-tight corset.
things above may be a mess, but they are now below. a different plane, a different game, a place they can simply ... be. fitting that it's hell. ]
Let us commence, my love. [ my love. mine. hers. always. ] It would not do us any favors to keep our masters waiting, hm?
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Her act is so hammed up he can barely contain himself. His mind seems to go into a fury, gazing down at her, feeling her, knowing she's saying all of this to needle something prickly into his skin.
And knowing he'll still take it willingly. Perhaps that's the worst part. }
Aye, none at all. Let us get this...show on the road.
{ Trying to combat her flowery formalities with some fun modern idioms, keep himself gently resistant to what's going on here. Even if it ultimately seems futile. }
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this is more like it. this is a challenge, albeit a challenge she has already won. it's all part of the show.
as sylvia takes his other hand in hers, she can hear the demon officiate slip right to the important part of a marriage ceremony, as though there was no time to waste. more matches needed to be made, more sinners married off for humiliation in pursuit of the demons' entertainment; the night was waning. the vows are traditional, if impersonal and altered for being in the eyes of mammon and not god.
there is no god here. his eyes have no doubt been turned away. ]
I do, [ sylvia whispers, once more twisting her fingers with henry's to weave their narrative together into a braid impossible to pull apart.
he is not the brother she wishes to be with at this point back home, but he is the brother she will keep close to her, the one she was created to be with.
narratives.
character development.
they all had a way of fucking with things, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.
with this, they have reset the storyline. ]
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A touch dramatic, perhaps. But that's what he is. That's what they are and they thrive on it.
He's not listening to the demon. It makes it harder to focus, being here in this moment, trying desperately to decide if he should really do this again or not. Whether Lucifer deems these legally binding or not, he doesn't care. He'll decide whether or not this feels real for him.
That, and... well. Can't back down now, can't run away, not in front of her. As she utters those words, the same ones he recalls all those years ago, it emotionally guts him. His jaw tightens, fingers clenching at the same time as he's twisted around her pretty little fingers once again. Sucked back into the role and narrative he thought he'd begrudgingly left behind for good.
She left him before. She'll surely leave him again if Travis appears, or if they return back to the surface. Something he still believes could be true, being able to go back. He just has to find the exit. }
I do.
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instead, sylvia and henry are encouraged to head into an annex off the ballroom, a place just large enough for them to collect their thoughts.
the moment they are out of sight of the crowd,
sylvia
drops
henry's hands.
she does not face him. she turns her attention to a piece of art upon the wall; she has nothing else with which to distract her.
this is familiar. this is a wall being constructed between the two of them. it's how she deals with anxiety that twists in her gut and the splintering of that formerly solid-ice heart. sylvia has withdrawn in herself; her hands don't even rest at her hips. they relax at her sides as she tips her head back to take in the full design of the room around them.
and she ... is silent. ]
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Fortunately, doesn't have to linger on that train of thought for long. Little blessings, he supposes, despite being in a place themed after hell.
Her hand drops from his. A part of his heart feels like it drops with it, but lets go just as easily when she does. When alone like this, there's no need for a mask, and that makes it all the more difficult to face one another.
He doesn't bother trying to find anything to distract himself with, simply staring at a spot on the floor with arms clasped behind his back. The silence lingers. A raging debate ensues in his head, staring at the back of her head as he takes one step at a time.
The silence continues for a little longer, even as he aligns himself next to her, pretending to examine the art on the wall as well. A slow exhale, }
Do you, really?
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that she doesn't look up at him feels almost like sylvia doesn't feel she has the right to. once more does she see henry in her peripheral and once more does she turn away, letting herself inspect the room. two weeks is not yet time enough to find her footing, to fit herself into the minutia of hell, to get her fingers wrapped up in every little string so she can have her own brand of fun.
a large part of her wonders if she should even try that. all of her power, all of her influence... it has all been left above upon the dirt and concrete that piled under her nails as she tried to claw her way back up from lucifer's grasp.
to put it bluntly: sylvia is at a loss. no direction. no instruction. no reputation. she'll have to rebuild from the ground up. henry is the only bright spot in all this darkness and even he is a complicated mess before her eyes. performing for the crowd is easy. telling lies face-to-face is easy. with no mask for her to wear, this is the only way she can be honest. ]
I have never lied to you before. [ twice she stopped henry and travis from killing each other. even with no fear of her own death, she feared for theirs. losing one was bad enough but losing both would have destroyed her. ] Yes, I do.
[ a lingering pause before she finally tilts her head a few degrees to the side. under her own control she places henry in her field of vision, though she still cannot face him completely. ]
You hate me.
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No doubt it'll be a short moment. He may as well enjoy it for as long as it lasts.
He takes in her words and well, he can't deny that. She lies and cheats on a daily basis like it's her job (and at times it is her job) but never to him. They'd established that line long ago and stuck to it. There had been no reason not to, he thinks, and that wavelength they both rode so easily together is probably why he felt she was The One for him.
The slight motion in his own peripherals is tempting him. He wants to look at he again, the way she is now. Honest, bared... while beautiful, it's not the most beautiful side of her, he thinks with a wry grin. Even at her most terrifying and nasty, he thinks she looks best that way as well. }
I could never hate you.
{ His voice is soft, still a little closed off. }
Simply hate that it's come to this.
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maybe she hasn't lost him after all. ]
And so? [ her body is only turned slightly toward him, still unable to look, to meet his eye just yet. ] What would you have us do?
[ sylvia has already made her desires clear; she must know his if they are to survive hell. regardless of if it is together, the better sylvia understands the situation, the easier it will be to find her way. ]
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It's likely he'll falter a lot, though. No doubt about that.
But for now, it's all just baby steps. One thing at a time. He's always been a 'Jump first, Think later' sort of bloke when it came to tackling challenges, after all. }
What else? We're here, now. Weather this nonsense together like we've always done.
{ Sort of gestures vaguely around them when he says 'nonsense', mostly referring to all of Penance and this realm they're in. }
We'll get out, or suffer the consequences trying.
{ He looks at her with his signature coolness, waiting for her to meet his gaze if she dares. }
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they can navigate that together, too.
and so, sylvia dares: there's a faint grind of debris beneath the ball of her foot as she turns to look at henry. her green eyes are, for the moment, uncharacteristically soft as she takes him all in with each perfect step. they halt in henry's personal bubble, the slope of her breasts just barely touching his chest. ]
I will give you everything you want, [ comes her whisper, and sylvia lifts herself just that little bit higher so that her face can hover mere inches away. she will not force it on him, but it's clear what she wants him to do. ] You know I am capable.
[ you have been here longer, goes unsaid, but it is implied in every passing second she remains this close. for now i will follow your step. ]
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But now, he feels more like himself. He sees her, the way she gazes at him, so reminiscent of a time way before the killing games had started. It's hard to admit it, but he really missed this. He missed her. Everything she stood for. The familiarity of home.
He lowers his eyelids, softening. } I do.
{ Almost like a redo of that moment just a few minutes ago, he can't stop himself. She's subtle in her desires when she wants to be, and he knows it's there, but he doesn't care. He knows what's needed to be done and he gets the vague feeling that part of her motivation is something similar to his own. Needing a clear footing. He wouldn't be able to blame her at all.
A hand comes up and brushes it along her delicate jawline. Tilting his head slightly, he presses forward and allows himself to feel her warm lips again... a weird way to describe a kiss, he'd think, but this entire moment is altogether bizarre anyway. It only seems right. }
i am truly dead now
and their lips fit.
their bodies fit.
her arms wrap around him, one at his shoulder and another at his hip, keeping herself pressed close. close enough to feel every inch of him against her despite the thick layers of fabric and bone. fingertips play at the nape of his neck and her breath is soft and warm against his cheek as she breathes him in.
her heart hums. her head spins. adrenaline prickles along every part of skin. she'd already felt this once already this evening, hearing his name spoken by a complete stranger. it was back with double the power now and sylvia knows this could quickly spiral out of control.
of course she wants it to — she lives on the blade's edge — but she will let henry choose to accept the invitation. ]
💀💀💀
The rich fabric of her dress rustles as he drags a hand across it, keeping her pressed close to him, like he's trying to absorb the very essence of this moment. His own head feels dizzy, like he'd been doused with an experimental hell-aphrodisiac, but in hind-sight he'd laugh at the realization that Sylvia's entire being is just like that.
It's like kissing her for the first time all over again. He breathes in deep through his nose, deepening the contact, and he's lost quite a bit of his repose in the past five or so months he's been trapped here. He's let worse things spiral out of control before and paid for them.
He'll accept any invitation she presents with a grain of salt, but accept it all the same. The hand touching at her jaw moves down her neck gently, tracing the sharp line of the cartilage and down to her delicate collar bone. He follows it towards her shoulder, slipping under the fabric that hangs precariously atop it. }
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a soft sigh is breathed against his lips as his fingers traverse faultless skin, a large swath of pale against his fingertips. her breath is sweet; her eyes half-lidded; she pursues another kiss with more insistence. with arms tightening about henry's frame, sylvia lets pointed nails dig firmly into the back of his neck while her other hand grasps fast the material of his coat. she needs no more manipulation at her disposal other than the harsh reality of her truth, that she has always been more willing to give herself to henry than anyone else. she can feel his heat all through her body.
closer.
sylvia wants him closer.
the hand at the back of his neck shifts to his hand on her shoulder and she encourages him to push the fabric aside and continue further, consequences for breaking the rules be damned. ]
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It drags him in deeper, of course. That could be her whole plan.
Works like a charm, naturally, as every familiar thing about her hits him like a truck. Every one of his senses light up something fierce. He loves the way she grips him like he's the only support she's got in the world, gives him that feeling of being needed.
He takes the encouragement easily. With a sharp intake of breath, he tugs the shoulder off. Sorry, Sylvia... for the inevitable squeeze of your corset. }
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rolling her shoulders back, sylvia withdraws one of her arms from the dropped shoulder of her dress so that she may once more wrap around henry and hold him close; her anchor in this new world. lips part again and again in kisses more desperate than the last, and one of her legs slips forward to move her thigh against his. as they start to work on the other side so that her bodice can more easily be pushed down, sylvia feels those already tight laces tighten even more.
and it's with a sharp gasp that she realizes the popping sensation in her side was not the bone of her corset, but one of her ribs. there's no pain that floods her system, merely confusion and a quietly hissed shit as she tries to catch her breath. the crushing sensation of her corset keeping her lungs confined only makes the dizziness even worse, but... she's willing to withstand it all if it means being one with henry.
just... you know, give her a second to remember how to breathe. ]
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As he's getting lost in the familiarity that he'd missed, the press of her body melding further against his own, he doesn't seem to notice anything amiss. But then something gives. Like, literally gives.
He doesn't pull away right then, however. His initial thought is that it's the corset, even as she's hissing under his breath. It only gets him to hang on tighter, kneading at the boning in the corset. The same offending hand drags down her bodice and starts to hike up the long skirt, trying to slip his hand under the thick fabric that hides her petite frame.
The back of his fingers brush up her thigh, teasingly, gentle. It's a slight distraction for himself as she catches her breath, but as soon as he deems the pause long enough, he dives back in to suck out the precious air from her lungs with each fervent kiss. If she wanted him to stop or slow down, she'd simply say so, yes? }
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as tight as henry's arms are around her frame, the corset is still tighter, pressing all of her body into an impossibly slender hourglass. the annoyance of her light-headed feeling is abated slightly by the touch of henry's fingertips against her thigh, the black silk stockings that confine her legs. should he go high enough, his touch would stumble upon the lace at the top, mere inches from the apex of her thighs. sylvia would follow the rules, to a point — these were another means of sylvia's rebellion against the limitations placed upon her.
that precious air she had sucked in is given to henry with little protest; her tongue slides over his bottom lip. the hands at his shoulders grip tighter as a desperate means of holding herself upright because with each fervent kiss henry presses upon her, sylvia feels more of her control waning, that hunger building, and a light snarl slips between her teeth. fingers twist in the material of his coat; her hold tightens; she holds their bodies flush against each other. ]
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