TEST DRIVE MEME #3

[penancemods]

ARRIVAL

You remember a dream.

Or maybe nightmare is more accurate.

It was full of hellfire nipping at your skin and a sensation of being pulled down no matter how much you struggle or cry for help. There's a voice that feels like it's coming from all around you at once. Contrasting with the nightmare unfolding around you, it's smooth as silk. It makes you want to listen with every bit of attention you can muster in the moment.

"Judgement has come upon you, but not to worry. It can still be undone."

The voice promises you redemption for your sins. It promises you a better life and everything you could ever want, if only you just stop struggling so much.

And so you do.



Everyone wakes up in the same room initially. The room is done up in red with a cushy bed, a window, an old TV in the corner on a desk, and a few Hieronymus Bosch paintings lining the wall. There's a bathroom to clean up in and any belongings will be sat around the room to be gathered later. There's a duffel bag provided for your convenience.

After feeling a sensation of falling or dropping onto the bed, characters wake up feeling like they've just slept for a week. Their body will feel heavy and stiff, they'll have a massive headache at first.

They'll quickly notice the list of their sins written with their blood on a bedside table on an old piece of parchment. This will mean the list is tied to them and can't be changed or tampered with. They'll also receive their device to connect with others and the network. It won't be anything terribly fancy. As a matter of fact, it looks like a very old Blackberry type phone.



Once characters are ready to leave the room, they'll head down long, winding halls. They're dimly lit and ominous feeling. They may encounter fellow sinners or demonic staff that will direct the newcomer down to the lobby to get their actual room key to settle in. They may be pushy, they may border on courteous. It really just depends on the mood of the staff at the time and how they're treated in return. Eventually, everyone comes to stairs that lead downward.



Once down to the lobby, you'll notice the front desk manned by a demon who looks bored out of its mind. To the side of him is the door to the kitchen where guests may help themselves. To the right is a small duty free shop that seems to have a surprisingly normal, expected stock of items. Look around a bit further, there will be a tiny bar tucked in through a corner door. It seems pretty well-stocked and best of all, self-serve if you want to get away from your demonic hosts for a bit. Of course there's some seating, bar games, and a jukebox tucked in the corner if you'd rather stay and socialize a bit.

Please note that all the songs on the jukebox are appropriately hell-themed. Hopefully Sympathy for the Devil is universally loved.



STAND YOUR GROUND

Prompt I

The general mood now that the carnival has passed seems to be almost dreary. The hotel staff is more snappish than usual and the demons outside are more aggressive towards guests of the hotel now, as if they think they have the right to treat guests even further below them than usual.



And as if to mirror the current mood, there seems to be a steady storm brewing outside that seems to just last and last. There's thunder and lightning happening, but the rain that's falling is a bit...off. It's a mix of hellfire and blood.

The blood begins to pool and flood certain areas as the days drag on, but curiously, the hellfire that burns around the community never seems to falter for even a moment.

The fire falling from the sky burns and stings the flesh if anyone is unfortunate enough to be caught out in it though. Despite that, there's almost a chill in the air.

Guests of the hotel will be reassured that this is perfectly normal, seasonal weather and that the hotel itself is in no danger of flooding. Just be careful going outside for the next couple weeks. There are umbrellas available at the front desk.

Be careful though. It's easy to get stranded outside in heavy, near blinding downpours or to be burnt if you forget that umbrella when you go out. Sinners are free to take shelter in the club, the library, or run back to the hotel as soon as they can. They may also notice the warehouse from the carnival has been left unlocked if they've ventured that far out.

There's still something eerie about it though... Sinners may see glimpses from their past or worst fears popping up from the corner of their eye as a residual from the ride it housed, like creepy phantoms. You may even hear a whisper or two of a familiar voice...

Probably best to not stay there for too long, if you can help it!

Prompt II

Per Lucifer's instruction, a day spa and bathhouse has been opened up in part of the former carnival grounds! It's more for his own benefit than anyone else's. It's not easy running an entire carnival and dealing with the complaints of sinners and demons alike when things don't go exactly their way.



Like all spas, guests of the hotel can go in for some deserved pampering. Facials, massages, steam baths, etc. The bathhouse has an area to shower before you go in for a nice soak in the spacious tubs available. Please note that these are unisex areas, but there are some private tubs for those who are too shy. The demons may side-eye you and your ridiculous modesty standards though.

Unfortunately, due to the rush to put it all together, there are some unfortunate kinks to work out still. Some of the tubs may reach boiling temperatures suddenly or steam rooms may lock and become insufferably hot before guests can get out. The demons may not account for the frailer, squishier bodies of some of the sinners during massages (or that's what they say at least).

Some of the treatments may be strange as well. Baths full of blood of the young that staff claim will restore your youth, pheromone washes that are derived from incubi that are said to make you absolutely irresistible to everyone. You're probably better off not asking what that mud-like substance is they're trying to rub on your face...

REACH UP HIGH

Prompt I
body horror, insects, zombies, etc.

"My absolutely sincerest apologies, my honored guests. It seems a few of the participants in the carnival have brought some germs along with them. But that's just as well. It's time to face your next punishment and this is the perfect opportunity." Lucifer's voice rings out for all guests to hear one fine morning, soon after the rain has started.

"Now I realize some feelings may be a bit hurt after the show, but forgiveness and putting on a brave face to work together are both extremely important traits. Father will be appreciative if you've at least started towards mastering them."

What he means by all of that becomes apparent soon enough. The zombie clowns and the tentacle monsters of the carnival left behind some horrifying infections, it seems.

Guests will notice that eldritch-type abominations are beginning to lurk around the hotel, ready to jump out at them at unexpected turns. They appear to be staff that have been twisted into horrible mutations. Guests can fight or they can try to board up their suites and rooms to protect themselves. Or they can run out of the hotel and hope they make it to one of the other establishments close by unscathed by them or the weather.

Although there do seem to be things that are oddly zombie-like wandering around out there. Slow and shambling, although ready to chase at a moment's notice.

If any of these abominations scratch or bite the sinners, they'll start to feel... odd. Perhaps it starts as a woozy sensation, something just slightly off-balanced inside and progresses there. It's nothing at all to worry about, right? Right, probably. Just ignore the strange symptoms. Maybe the sinner won't even have to tell anyone, right?

And besides, if everyone all worked together to protect one another, then they'll be fine and won't have to worry at all about bites or scratches anyway.

Or, alternatively, they can let the slower ones in their group be the bait, sacrificing a friend along the way, etc. It's also a perfect way to escape from what's promising to be an impending horror show by itself. God may not be happy about it, but God isn't down here suffering this.

There's also an option to just beg the hotel staff for a repellent to keep the nasties away from you... it's maybe not the most glamorous or exciting way to deal with things, but it does seem to work fairly well. Just remember there's a price for not seeing through your punishment. There's always a price.

Guests may just get a bad batch of repellent if they're particularly unfortunate that slowly turns them to stone after all. It's at least not as horrific as becoming an abomination right? It just means watching the horror show from within a stone prison. Ah, well. They can't all be winners, right? It will wear off after a bit.

Now, here's what will happen, depending on the monster that bites you:

If bitten by a zombie or ghoul, characters will slowly begin to change. Their hearts will stop, but they will still be alert somehow. They'll eventually start to rot though, and along with that, comes an insatiable hunger for human flesh that they may or may not be ignored. Eventually, their minds will begin to go as well until it's impossible to think even remotely clearly.

Or, who knows, maybe they'll be lucky and become an almost vampire-like creature with a thirst for blood instead. At least they'll mostly be in control of their own mind?

If touched or scratched by an eldritch abomination, they'll have seen true terror and madness from somewhere beyond the very stars themselves. It will boil through their blood, change them into something inconceivable, something barely within comprehension. It will twist them from within, bones and organs both until they've become the monster they've always had inside of them. They'll start to want to cause others the pain they feel, to kill everything within sight as their mind starts to fade to the abyss and malice. Tentacle beasts or other horrific creatures fall under this umbrella.

Prompt II

If slowly changing into an abomination isn't the sinner's thing, or they're simply an overachiever, no one has to worry! There's another shot of redemption waiting once that whole mess is squared away. Lucifer even kindly chose something that wouldn't harm any freshly healing bodies, just out of consideration for his guests.

Instead, all one will have to do is sincerely apologize. Walk up to someone and apologize for something they've done, against them or another. Past or present. They'll have to specify in detail what they're apologizing for though, so don't try to wiggle out of that!

And if the other person forgives them their sin, that's really all it takes.

"All Father asks for is true remorse for repentance. Please show him you're capable of that much," Lucifer's voice rings out in the sinners' heads, soft and inviting.

"I certainly know that you are, even if you're unaware of the fact. So, go to one of your fellow penitents and ask for forgiveness, it shall be given."

Lucifer seems to leave out the fact that the other person has to genuinely forgive as well... and if they don't? Have fun losing one of your senses painfully. It will pass in a few hours, he's sure.

FOLLOW ME DOWN

Prompt I

"You're tired, aren't you? You poor thing..." Lucifer's voice rings out in the back of your head as it always does, tinged with what feels like genuine sympathy. "Father expects so much of you, and now, I'll have to as well. If you agree to this simple task, at least. I can at least promise you a bit of a break after if you succeed. So come."

The voice beckons and it's impossible to not follow. How the sinner's feet feet know where to lead them is anyone's guest, but they stop outside of a room after winding hallway after winding hallway, various flights of stairs that never have been there before. Sinners will find themselves entering a room with a partner, drawn the same way.

The room inside is lavish and comfortable, with food and drink placed out for sinners to partake in, along with any other items or vices they may want. But before their focus can linger too long on the offers, their attention will be drawn towards a mirror sat on a desk in the room. There are two contracts to the side of it.

"Go on, look in the mirror and then read the contracts."

The voice urges and now the guests are faced with a choice. Do they choose to turn and leave right then and there? Go back to their room and forget the temptation, or do they venture a look to see what happens?

Looking into the mirror, and for a moment, it will feel like both partners have stepped into a perfect getaway, provided by Lucifer himself. Hopefully both partners like each other because they're staying in some luxurious home together, with everything they could dream of. Even friends and family are but a call away, even ones they may have lost or parted on bad terms with. They also seem to have limitless funds and access to anything.

Sinners instinctively know that Lucifer is offering them endless desires if they just agree to a task... is it so simple though?

Of course this little shared hallucination can't last forever. Sinners snap out of it soon and they'll find themselves in the room they started in. If they take a look at the contract, they'll find a simple proposal:

Outside the gates of this community is uncharted territory full of various dangers and far more imposing demons than have been allowed within. But there are several artifacts that Lucifer desires scattered throughout Hell itself. Be brave and find them, and you and your partner will be given a respite from your daily punishment. A week out of Hell, given at Lucifer's discretion, for a job successfully completed.

However, breathe a word of this task to anyone beyond your partner, and you may face harsh consequences.

As always, Lucifer is willing to give sinners time to talk among themselves before making a decision. If you both decide to take on this task, a drop of blood will be more than enough to seal the contract. Remember that pledging yourself to Satan may not be quite the path to redemption though...

While characters discuss their options, they will be allowed to spend one night in the suites. They may also take another gander into the mirror...

Prompt II
Warnings: sex, potential kinks, violence, non-con or dub-con.

With the carnival going on for two weeks, and more people focused on getting their rush in an entirely different way for the most part, the succubi and incubi are starting to feel just a bit starved. This leads to impatience and agitation. They tried so hard to be good during the festivities, putting on their best behavior, but they can't wait any longer.

The constant, horrible weather outside hasn't done much for business at the club, and it's simply not helping matters at all. Deciding to take things into their own hands, it seems the demons have come up with their own plans and solutions since Lucifer hasn't given them any yet.

The demons have decided to take unsuspecting guests at the hotel. Whatever sinners are doing from taking a nice stroll or settling in for a good night's sleep, they'll find their surroundings changing beneath their feet. It will all fade away to an unfamiliar room where the ravenous demons surround them. It seems the succubi and incubi want their own show finally.

The clowns, after all, were decidedly not sexual. The energy hadn't been the same.

They've chosen sinners a partner, whether they're their usual type or not. They don't care. You can simply make it work. They've furnished a bed and any sort of sexual aids you could want from the basics to toys to instruments of pain.

If you're a bit performance shy, you'll find they don't particularly care. For every instance sinners resist, they'll find themselves in a certain amount of pain. Perhaps it's as minor as a headache that will grow steadily worse or tiny, painful cuts that seem to magically appear. Perhaps it's even a little electric zap to get you moving.

Either feed them or be tormented, that's the game.

The demons may have special requests that range anywhere from plain vanilla sex to partners having to endure pain to someone having to permanently mark another as theirs, whether they know each other or not.

If sinners really want to get out, then they have to participate whether they want to or not.

MISC.

Thank you for checking out penancerp's third TDM! Please note that all prompts are opt-out and players are more than welcome to come up with their own ideas while exploring the hotel and hell outside. There's a locations page that describes the library and the club a bit more thoroughly, if you're interested in sending your characters exploring these establishments!

Because these prompts count as game canon, current players are more than welcome to do their own top levels for these prompts in the meme itself or logs community.

All that we ask is that you remember to put clear warnings on any potentially triggering content! Warn for sex, including underage or incest, violence, abuse, non-con, etc. Please put these warnings in a visible place, either by the prompt itself or in the subject line. This isn't just a suggestion but a requirement to participate in the game.

Now that all that's out of the way, we hope you have fun! Feel free to ask questions under the appropriate comment or on the FAQ page.

Since there are new faces around, Lucifer himself will be taking a few questions via his device for anyone so inclined down below.

As a final note, don't forget that reserves are open now until July 1st as well!


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Comments

QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, SUGGESTIONS

[penancemods]

[sharktrash]

What would happen if Squalo tries to bargain for going to look for the artifacts without signing the contract (and by extension forfeiting the reward)?

NPC - Lucifer

[odaystar]

[orionsarmpit]

Hey how's it goin. You the big cheese around these parts? Think you could field a couple questions about this particular neck of the afterlife?

text;

[uninvincible]

Hey there Beelzebub. Old Scratch. Mephistopheles. Whatever name you're going by today

I need some materials from home, for research purposes. I know I'm going to have to do something to get it. So let's just cut to the chase, name your price and on my own head be it.

Sergei Razumovsky/The Plague Doctor | Major Grom | OTA

[socialbreakdown]

[[ ooc note: Sergei is a dissociative mess with two distinct personalities, one disaster nerd (who only uses their given name) and one suave but ruthless anarchist (who calls himself Blackbird or the Plague Doctor) with a penchant for elaborate puzzles and murder. Preferably combined. Blackbird can generally remember everything that happens to Sergei, but not vice-versa. ]]

A. Arrival (Sergei) - cw: drug mention

Sergei doesn't know what's real anymore. His world is fragments, spaces of time strung together with ever-increasing blanks in between. Some of them are his fault--pills had been keeping the madness at bay. If he took enough of them, he just fell asleep. Others aren't, and he doesn't look at the news anymore. He doesn't want to know.

Waking up in a strange bed after strange nightmares--that's not new. But the list? The horrible feeling here? That's new. The list he folds up and hides at the bottom of the bag without reading it. Many of the items, too, he tries not to look at, but can't quite bear to leave behind. He finds a bottle of pills in his coat pocket and hesitates--it's tempting, to head things off… but no, he needs to know where he is, know he's safe if he passes out somewhere.

Finally, he steps out into the hallway, a pale and frazzled man in a designer hoodie and jeans looking significantly younger than the late 20s he actually is. His posture is hunched, his blue eyes nervous and shadowed by dark circles, his long undercut red hair pulled back in a simple braid.

He wanders alone, lugging the duffel bag, until he finally stumbles into someone, and practically throws himself at their feet. "Please," he says in clear but accented English, "can you tell me where I am?"


B. Stand Your Ground I (Sergei)

So walking outside in the rain of blood and fire was stupid, but Sergei just wanted to get out, out of his head, out of that hotel that just felt so suffocating.

And it was fine. The umbrella kept pretty much everything off, even if the landscape outside was… well, Hell, but it was what he deserved, wasn't it?

Until the downpour. Until his umbrella is snatched out of his hands and the only place he can take shelter is some big abandoned warehouse. But… maybe it will just blow over?


C. Stand Your Ground II (Blackbird) - cw: potential sexual content

At the bathhouse, Sergei lounges nude in one of the communal hot pools, hair in a bun on his head and finally looking peaceful. When he hears someone else enter the room, he opens one eye and regards them with a smirk.

"Joining me?"


D. Follow Me Down I (Blackbird)

"This is better," Sergei says, walking around the lavish room, barely even paying attention to the other person who ended up in the room with him. "Much more like what I'm accustomed to."

He walks back to the contract and eyes the other person in the room. "Well, I'm signing. You?"


E. Follow Me Down IIa (Sergei) - cw: drug use, sexual content, dubious consent

Sergei tries to resist, but he's still losing time, hours, and he knows it's the other one, that fucking bird-demon, and the only way he's found to stop any of it is to sedate himself--both of them--into oblivion.

So he tries, curled up on the bed with his belongings, trying to will the world away. Darkness comes over him like a tide. But when he wakes up, he's not still in bed.

At least, not still in that bed. Instead, he's in a strange place, with a stranger next to him, and there are a lot of demons looking on, looking… hungry.


F. Follow Me Down IIb (Blackbird) - cw: sexual content

After it happened to his pathetic other half, he was almost expecting the demons to kidnap them again. But this time, he's ready. And honestly? He hates captivity, but at least this should be interesting.

He regains his bearings quickly, and when he meets his partner's eyes, he gives them a feral grin. "They're not letting us go until we put on a show. So… shall we?"


G. NETWORK - text

Hey so are we really stuck with these shitty phones and no external Internet? Has anyone tried to work on like, a better social network even? I mean, ok, it's Hell, but...

H. Wildcard!

[[ ooc: Feel free to run into them anywhere, and specify if you have a preference for which of these two you get! Hit me up with questions or plotting ideas by PM or on plurk at cubewithlegs! ]]

going with A but lmk if you prefer C

[sharktrash]

[ While it's not really surprising or rare, Squalo doesn't expect to almost walk into a panicking newbie poster boy in that very moment. So he takes a second or two to take it all in -- the dishevelled state he seems to be in, the confusion, the accent. It's not too hard to place. He offers a lopsided, almost lazy grin. ]

Hell, apparently. [ He tilts his head to the side slightly and repeats the same in Russian, his own accent only really noticeable to native ear. He has no trouble continuing in whichever language the young man seems to prefer. ] Were you expecting someplace else?

Nero/Saber - Fate/Extra

[rubrumprinceps]

A. ARRIVAL
[ It is not a shock to Nero that she has arrived in the underworld, what is a shock is the surprising pleasantness of it. The list of the sins, the blood and the pain would be enough to frighten most but Nero has lived a violent life and the lack of violence in the penance of it is a surprise.

Ever the hedonist, she helps herself to the largest bottle of wine she can find at the self serve bar - a white chablis with a domestic label - and positions herself in a lounging posture ill suited for the stiff and small armchair. ]

The Christians were soft. It is fitting that their Avernus be a place of luxuries such as this.
[ She takes a sip from her commically large wine glass and gestures to the bottle. Rather than removing the cork, it seems she opted to smash the bottle neck open. ]

Indulge. Your Emperor would not see you forsake pleasure in the name of a god who cannot provide fitting punishments.

B. STAND YOUR GROUND - II
TW: mild sexuality

[ Open baths are not a new concept for Nero. -and in spite of (or perhaps because of...) the demons she seems incredibly at home. Neck deep in the wide communal baths and surrounded by what appear to be a gaggle of demons of all genders and body variations excitedly chatting in latin as they scrub each other and Nero with pumice stones.

Seeing a still clothed figure at the rim of the tub, Nero raises her hand out of the water and beckons you in with a grand sweeping gesture. ]

Fear not, modest one! The beautiful men and women of this place seek only to partake in conversation and desires of the flesh at this moment. Come and join us! Entrust your safety to me and I shall see you remain unharmed.

C. REACH UP HIGH - I
tw: body horror, violence

[ Nero is small in stature, but her presence in the thick of battle is large. She steps calmly and with ease over the fallen bodies of the undead she has already cut down and readies her blade once more for the abomination that approaches you. ]

Stand at my side! Have you means to defend yourself or have you come to die?

D. REACH UP HIGH - II

[ A hand reaches out to grasp at a stranger.

Had they met Nero before, the woman before you would hardly seem like the same person. Her eyes appear bloodshot and sunken in. Doubled over and one hand clutching the side of her head.

When she speaks blood spills out alongside her words. ]

You...you must forgive this one. You must! I do not desire love anymore. I- I understand now! Why I was wrong to love you the way I did, so please you must-

E. FOLLOW ME DOWN - I

I was married once.

[ She speaks to her partner after all the pomp and circumstance of Lucifer's pact have passed and the two remain in the empty suite. ]

I do not recognise the version of domesticity that Lucifer has presented us. It is an invention of the modern era and I am a relic of the past. A past in which ones wife was his property and the indulgence in passionate love was considered a kind of madness.

[ She extends her hand towards the other, offering a chance to take it. ]

I am a mad Emperor who passionately loved many. This respite, I do not desire, but pray speak of your intentions to me as equals and I shall decide if I will desire on behalf of another tonight.

D. MISC
Feel free to DM me! Nero is coming from the end of the Fate/Extra game. I'm also happy to explain anything for the canon unfamiliar.

A!

[innerdaemon]

[ Ardyn spends most of his free time at the bar, and he's just wandered back in when he sees a new face. And what a face, with what melodrama. He loves it. Instantly.

He saunters over, snagging a dirty wineglass off of a table as he passes by, and drops to his knees at Nero's feet. ]

A sentiment which I cannot help but share, though I know not these 'Christians' you speak of.

[ He holds up the empty glass. ]

You are offering that libation, I presume?

Xanxus | KHR! | OTA - CW for Langauge/Sex

[xtwin_gunsx]

arrival
<sub>[ This was a fucking joke, right? And an over the top one at that. Blood, horrible decor, even the permeating stench of something rather foul in the air. Whomever had done this had either gone through a lot of expense and trouble, or it was an illusion (he had been against to many illusion masters in his time to not have that be a possibility, and honestly the more likely one). He would hand it to whomever the crafter was though - it all certainly felt real.

He took his time looking around the room and briefly inspecting the outdated phone before slipping it into his pocket and heading down the halls and stairs. If this was an illusion, it was grand, and whomever had made it had to be at least on Mamon or Mokuro's level, if not higher. Which was a scary thought. At least he had his guns, which was a small comfort, and his rings. Though something felt... off about both. But he wasn't willing to explore that so openly, not yet.

Stepping into the lobby, he took it in before heading for the small self-serve bar, reaching for something top shelf and a glass. ]</sub>

Where the fuck am I?

_{[ Said to whomever is coming up behind him. At least his sense weren't dulled in this place, and no, he did not do them the courtesy of turning around to face whomever it was. They weren't worth the trouble. ]}

stand your ground: i - rain/library
<sub>[ Hell. Fire. Rain. It was as cliche as it could fucking get, and he had grown up in a ridiculously Catholic country. He had heard the sermons, even gone to church, but honestly he had never actually believed in all this shit. Why would he? Considering his profession, if God or whatever had actually existed, he would be heading straight in the downward direction. One didn't get into assassination with the idea of walking through the pearly gates.

He walked through the rain with an umbrella up, his eyes narrow as he began to sense something out to the corner of his eye, shifts and flashes. None of them made him wince, but none of them made him feel particularly good either. He thought he felt a chill across the back of his neck, his scars beginning to ache, and he grit his teeth, hurrying faster through the down pour.

The crack of ice.

He full on grimaced now, ashamed to be walking so fast, muttering beneath his breath as he did so, ignoring the sting and slap of rain when his umbrella shifted to much, wisps of smoke rising off his coat. When he reached the library doors he jerked them open, tossing the umbrella aside with little regard for whom was standing in the war, and brought his hand to his lips, licking at the stinging burn there.

Now which way were the novels? ]</sub>

stand your ground: ii - the spa
<sub>[ This was more like it. Fuck if he didn't deserve this after the shit this place was putting him through. If he was going to be kidnapped and forced to play out whatever fucking weird farce this "Lucifer" desired, he was at least going to enjoy some luxury while he could. Potential trap? Maybe, but Xanxus was confident enough in his own abilities not to care. And, at the least, it seemed like this Lucifer had some sort of long game in mind, rather than a more immediate kill. Definitely not an assassin.

He growled at the demons that tried to assist him, doing little else besides taking a towel and a drink and heading to the baths. He set both aside and disrobed, unashamed of his body - covered in scars from head to toe, back and front. Practically no inch of him untouched in some way, and the feathers clearly woven into his hair.

Water sloshed and whispered as he settled in, sliding his arms along the edge and reclining, a king on his throne. Approach at your own risk. ]</sub>

follow me down: i - scavenger hunt
<sub>[ The promise of riches beyond his dreams. Of luxury. Of a return to a shadow of his former life. It was tempting, to be sure. He glanced at the note, which if he thought about was like getting a job for the Varia. A contract wasn't unheard or even unexpected - the Varia operated with them all the time. It was how they got paid. And while he did have some reservations about signing, he knew he would do it. Mostly because he was damn bored, and it was a chance to go beyond the walls.

He looked to the person who had been led into the room with him, his face giving away little except his own resolve. ]</sub>

I'm going.

_{[ His tone suggested that you had better not disappoint him with your own answer. ]}

follow me down: ii - the show (cw: sex)
<sub>[ He was getting really tired of waking up on strange beds. Not that he hadn't done so before - he had certainly gotten around enough in his late teens and early twenties. But then, at least, he had understood the means by which he had least ended up in the strange beds. This, not so much, and it was beginning to piss him off.

Even more so the demons currently cajoling and whispering from the shadows. He glowered at them in his usual way, though it seemed to do little more than delight them. Being out numbered as not new either, but it didn't escape him that his main weapons had been stripped from him either - his guns, and his rings. Without those, he was at a much harsher disadvantage, especially against a group.

Fuck. Fine.

He turned to see whom the demons had decided to pair him with. ]</sub>

Oi, get up.

_{[ So romantic, isn't he? ]}

wild card!
_{[ Don't see something that strikes your fancy? Create your own adventure! Xanxus will regularly hang out in the bar/club, or can be found roaming the streets, rain or "shine", and the library. ]}

fmd - I

[sharktrash]

[ A contract is hardly anything new for them, that is true. Squalo, however, has been here long enough to start distrusting them. That and he's still reeling at the thought of teaming up with Lucifer. He understands he should, he's aware that playing together is the best possible course of action for whatever goals he hopes to accomplish eventually -- but it's so hard. He's never been a manipulator, hell, he would always announce his presence in a battlefield as loudly as obviously as possible. Acting in any way but genuinely feels like slowly climbing up the jagged end of a saw. ]

[ All the same, though, he's so fucking bored he'd probably sell ten souls for a chance like this. Not to mention, well. His sun and stars boss is here. ]

[ About damn time. ]

[ And yet, at the same time: Fuck no. He wasn't supposed to be here. This was like handing the Devil the best way to really hurt him, and he wonders if their recent pissing contest may have had anything to do with Xanxus' showing. ]

[ No. He can't think like that. He just has to make the most of the now. ]

Why the fuck're you looking at me like that? Of course I'm going.

[ His grin gains that predatory twist that implies he's about to be serious, or stubborn. ]

I'm not signing that, though.

Thor Odinson | MCU | ota

[stormbreaking]

stand your ground ii

While he was still wary of trusting anything Lucifer offered, Thor does find himself visiting the spa out of curiosity. The bath is what draws him the most. Something proper and large enough to actually fit him sounds pleasant for a change. He isn't particularly modest enough to care about the bath area being mixed, no actual shame in his own body or seeing others bared.

Although he does have the courtesy to ask before he joins anyone.

He does also steer clear of the blood baths, flatly refusing any demon who offers to show him the way. He's rather sure there won't be much relaxation to be found in there.

Of course, he can also be spotted somehow being convinced into getting some of the more pampering things. A massage, at least. The facials seem a bit suspect.

The sauna also tempts him in. He can be found in one sparsely populated on, sat back in nothing but a towel as he relaxes.

follow me down ii [this option will potentially lead to sex and nsfw scenarios.]

He should be rather used to these demons taking him where they see fit, but it never ceases to be almost insulting. He finds himself in some strange room, with an audience yet again... and for a moment, he's prepared for another sort of punishment. Will he lose another eye? Will they take his hand as they had others? He wouldn't be surprised.

Although realization dawns quickly enough when his eyes land on a partner, and the other items in the room. The hungry eyes of those demons...

He grimaces, arms crossing over his chest stubbornly.

"Let us out."

He doesn't care if they sneer at him, if they taunt him in amusement. He's not in the mood for their games at the moment.

wildcard

[I'm also open to the prompts involving zombies and other abominations but I think I would rather write specific starters for those, so if you'd like to team up with Thor, let me know here! If there's something else you'd like to do with Thor, poke me here or at noassgardian.]

stand ii

[hypoxic]

[It's strange how well the demons can make things sound. Even when obeying them would be objectively stupid, sometimes the sound of their voices is as sweet as Lucifer's own. Fitz thought he was exchanging library books when one of them spoke so seetly it made the spa seem palatable. Maybe even enjoyable.

The massage sounded safe from the outset. It was a way to let them have the touch they seemed to crave from him without letting them do anything untoward. But by the time Thor is nearby, he's holding on to the table with a white-knuckled grip, gritting his teeth as he stammers at the demon digging into his back.]

No--really -- I'd rather if you didn't -- please --

[Surely Thor will find it inviting.]

Jon Snow | Game of Thrones | CW: talk of death, body horror, general GoT triggers

[song_of_ice]

Stand Your Ground

Prompt I.

[He had been warned not to venture far from the hotel, but Jon had never been one to listen to warnings. He at least had the sense to take an umbrella, but as the storm got heavier, he was forced to retreat to the empty warehouse to wait it out, at least until he could find his way and not risk being burned.

There were a few others finding shelter in the warehouse as well. Save for the fire falling rapidly across the windows, it was empty and dark. Tension was thick in the air, as suffocating as the smolder and sulfur outside. It was an uneasiness that Jon had come to recognize, the sort that acted as a warning before the Dead attacked. Only now there were no sounds, save for the others that joined him and a darkness that seemed to be never ending.

The strange occurrences started as a sudden voice near his ear, Robb or Ygritte. There were flashes out of the corner of his eye, moments he thought he saw the familiar lumber of a wight. He didn't have Longclaw or Ghost, just the umbrella to act as a weapon. At the sudden call of his name, he turned on his heel and-

-it was Olly. Olly with a broken neck, his face blue and his eyes bulging and lifeless. Revulsion swallowed him, seeing the familiar bruise around his neck and knowing where and when it occurred. By his hand, he killed a boy by his own hand. If it was Ser Alliser or any of the others, there would be no guilt. But the accusation in Olly's eyes were too much for him.

He stumbled back into someone, turning quick to attack if needed. When he saw it wasn't a shade from his past, he relaxed slightly.]

Do you see anything in the darkness?

Reach Up High

Prompt I.

[The sudden shift of the staff had caught him off guard. Without Longclaw, he had to depend on weapons he found or made for himself. He didn't feel the same surge of confidence or instinct wielding a table leg as he did with a blade. But it was the only option he had to at least fend them off long enough to retreat to somewhere safe and board the doors.

He was quick to rescue anyone cornered or about to be bit, clubbing the creature and stunning it long enough for the person to escape.] Come on! We need to run!

[Claws and teeth were difficult to avoid, even for someone with enough experience on the battlefield as he did. Adrenaline kept him from noticing the tear in his sleeve or the trickle of blood that curled down his arm. He could only think about getting to safety and keeping his companion alive.

Once the door was slammed shut and a dresser was acting as a temporary barricade, he finally noticed the wound.]

Seven hells. Are you all right? Did they catch you?

Wildcard

[Choose your own hellscape.]

RUH - I

[munazaldrizoti]

[She didn't have time to take notice of it before. Considering the nature of the situation, it didn't seem likely that any one would have been open-minded to think of the mass number of possibilities. Daenerys didn't know what was going on. She only knew that there were...

Well. Things. Not pleasant things. Not good things. It would have been different if she'd had her dragons. Without them, without Jorah, she felt a degree more powerless. It wasn't a pleasant experience. It was one that lingered in the back of her mind. It was one that stained her and tainted her. More so as she considered how it had all begun.

Punishment and sins. Was she... being selfish?

Before she could drown herself in her thoughts, she found herself turning to Jon. Looking him over, her gaze was drawn onto arm and the way red caressed its way down muscle and flesh. She'd almost forgotten he was human at the end of the day, like the rest of them.]

You're hurt.

[Careful in how she touched him, she caught him away from his wound as she tried to get a better look. She was unscathed, but at what cost, really? It was easy to ignore herself in favour of him. Even if she had been hurt, she doubt she would have said anything.

But he was a clever man. Somehow he would have known, she wagered.]

grimmjow jaegerjacques | bleach | ota

[sextaxpantera]

stand your ground: ii - spa
<sub>[ Grimmjow had never actually seen a spa in his life, or really understood the concept. Aizen wasn't exactly a man who encouraged living in luxury and relaxing, and Hueco Mundo itself was a land of sand and blood. Relaxing meant you died, no matter how strong you might be.

At the least he had no body shame. He was a fit person, if you didn't count the hole in the center of his body. A literal hole - you could see right through it to the other side, and that fact didn't seem to bother him in the least. Nor did the demons. If anything, they seemed to annoy him and he wasn't above snapping sharp canines in their direction or flicking with claws.

He smacked at some when he got sprayed with some strange mist or other, sneezing as the particles drifted up his nose. But he thought no more of it as he disrobed and went to the pools, slipping down into the water. He sat for a few moments before looking around with a somewhat puzzled expression. ]</sub>

Why is this considered relaxing?

follow me down: i - scavenging
<sub>[ Again with showing them the luxuries - what he assumed was a way of tempting him. True, on someone else, it might have worked, but Grimmjow had never known such things, and he didn't care to. He didn't want to be soft or pampered. He was strong. He clawed his way to power, to being more than a simple beast, and he did not intend to ever let that strength grow idle.

He wasn't pleased about the idea of signing a contract, of being dragged beneath someone else's thumb again, but at the same time, it was a chance to move beyond the walls, there was a purpose, and a potential reward. He didn't care for the finer things, but perhaps he could get something else...

It was worth a shot anyways, and at least a contract felt fair, unlike the shit Aizen had put him and the other Espada and Arrancar through. And hey, while he was here in the suite, might as well enough a little bit of plush. Not to much though. But the offerings when it came to food and drink were definitely a lot better than in Hueco Mundo.

He grabbed an amber drink and flopped into a chair. ]</sub>

Guess I'm up for a field trip.

follow me down: ii - put on a show
<sub>[ Ever heard a jaguar growl? That deep, rumbling sort of sound that vibrates the air, makes your bones shake and the lizard part of your brain screech? That's the sound Grimmjow made when he woke up and realized what was happening. It was not a happy sound. It was the sound of a creature that would as easily tear you to shreds and be happy to do so. Luckily, that anger was directed at the demons surrounding them - and himself as he realized that what little power he'd had since coming here, even his sword, was gone.

It was just the bed, and whomever happened to be tossed in with him.

Slowly his eyes went to the poor soul stuck there with him, and if you hoped to find sympathy or empathy there, well, Grimmjow had none to spare. ]</sub>

I'm not in the habit of being gentle.

_{[ Fair warning, wasn't it? At least he's honest up front. ]}

stand your ground: ii - spa

[flashcat]

[ After the ordeal Yoruichi had just recently been through, she felt she needed this. The steam, the warm water, free from the restrictions of her own clothing.

As such, Yoruichi lacked shame and modesty when it came to her body. In fact she preferred to be without clothing, most the time. She only wore them because the rest of the world was uncomfortable with it.

At the moment, Yoruichi was only half submerged, arms spread ut to either side of her, resting along the edge of the pools. Her hair tied up in a top-knot, and her eyes closed, but all her others senses on full alert.]

"Sit in the water for a while, and you'll see."

[She cracks one eye open, looking at him for just a moment]

"Then again, maybe not. Most cats do tend to dislike the water." [ Like she's one to talk]

Betelgeuse | Beetlejuice | OTA

[orionsarmpit]

Arrival/Stand Your Ground I:
cw smoking

[Y’know what, it beats the Lost Souls Room. By a long shot. Hey, and there’s people and booze here, so what’s really to complain about? Better a hotel packed with these poor schmucks than stuck in the waiting room, that’s for sure.

Betelgeuse leans against the hotel’s front doorway, smoking leisurely. The blood rain doesn’t seem to be too out-of-sorts to him. He chats up any passersby.]

How about this strange weather? Just when you think you can get away from it…

[He takes a drag, studies the smoldering end.]

All over the netherworld, it’s the same.


Stand Your Ground II

[The hot tubs aren’t segregated. Well, ain’t this a blessing! He tromps into a tub, uncomfortably close to the first attractive person he finds.]

S’cuse me, lemme just, hope you don’t mind--

[His litany of pardons is undermined by his clear attempt to get as close to his new companion as possible. Elbow by their face, butt by their face, he invades as much space as he pleases to situate himself, finally settling with a guttural sigh. He reaches to the jar of the mud-like facial mask he brought with him (strategically placed so he has to snake an arm around his companion’s shoulder for it,) dips two fingers in, and starts noisily eating it.]

Ahh! Nothin’ like a little R & R.

Follow Me Down II:
cw potential sex/kinks

[Betelgeuse looks over the person the succubus paired him with, then turns to her.]

Babe, if you wanted a threesome, you shoulda just said so! You know I’m down for anything, anything at all. Now who do we have here…?

stand your ground ii

[missdemon]

[Well, that's one way to make an entrance. A pretty gross way, sure, but he sure got her attention. Mostly because, you know, he's right there. His ass was like, just in her face and there is absolutely no attempt being made here at sparing her personal space.]

You said it, cutie.

[She might not be ashamed at calling Betelguese cute but I will absolutely barf out here outside of my screen, right now.]

Everyone here is so paranoid; but I'm not about to complain about a free spa day.

squalo ⚔ khr! ⚔ ota

[sharktrash]

-- stand your ground 1

[ It's rain. ]

[ Blood rain. ]

[ On fire. ]

[ Squalo takes his time to lounge wherever he has a nice view but is no immediate danger -- it could be at a window or at the lobby, maybe even huddling outside under an umbrella, unconcerned by stray droplets splashing on him and leaving little soot marks or even holes in his clothes, or red marks on his skin. ]

[ If him and Xanxus fucking was a weather, this would be it. ]

[ And he starts laughing. ]


-- stand your ground 2

[ Anyone rooming with or near him is probably aware at this point that Squalo has quite a love for baths. The whole public setting thing is a bit less of a favorite, but it's not like he hasn't been to a sauna or a pool before. He has about zero shame letting other people see him naked -- well, mostly, because his prosthesis stays on even when nothing else does -- and he just might end up marching naked to his chosen tub, or to pick himself up a drink. Don't think too much on it. ]

[ If he's already reclining in one, hair held up in a messy nest of a manbun, and he sees you looking his way anyway? Have a show of teeth that's probably a smirk of a sort, though whether it's teasing or warning is anyone's guess. ]

You gonna join me?


-- reach up high 1

[ Where most people would be terrified or upset, Squalo is ecstatic. See, this whole infestation thing means he has some moving targets to hit. ]

[ He stomps down the hallway, blood and rot trickling down the long blade strapped to his left arm, grinning like a madman all the while. He's been cutting down pretty much everything he came across -- and it may be part reflex and part pure unadultered bloodthirst when he looks just about ready to strike you. ]

[ He doesn't -- not yet -- but the sword remains raised in front of him defensively. ]

Did you get bitten?

[ ...alternatively, if things turn south, he will likely be more than happy to toss you to the monsters and retreat himself. ]


-- reach up high 2a

[ As it turns out, repeatedly yelling "I'm not fucking sorry for anything" isn't the best way past this trial. ]

[ He doesn't look much worse for wear, but you may notice that no matter how loud you yell or try to get his attention, he doesn't seem to notice your presence until he looks your way, or you come up right in front of him. ]

[ It had hurt. Something awful, really, as if a pair of red-hot corkscrews had been drilling through his ears, and then the world went quiet. ]

[ It's a disadvantage. Maybe one of those things Lucifer has mentioned. But Squalo knows he will adapt; he just needs a moment to get his bearings... and, well. ]

[ His voice had always been too loud. Now that he can't even hear himself, his yelling is probably much, much worse. ]

IF YOU'RE HERE TO BEG FOR FORGIVENESS, YOU'LL NEED TO SPEAK UP. ALSO, FUCK YOU. I HATE GROVELING TRASH.


-- reach up high 2b

[ Alternatively, he may have gotten more unlucky, however. Maybe it's his sight that goes, and in that case you might run into him treading down a hallway, an extended hand just barely brushing against a wall. ]

[ The left one; an odd choice to anyone who knows his secrets, but he'll take the reduced sense of touch over the chance of slipping his good hand into the mouth of some remaining creature. He's got a sword in his left, and he immediately stills as soon as he hears a footstep or a breath. ]

Speak up, or you never will again.


-- follow me down 1

[ Oh, he knows how this works. The Devil shows them what they want to see, sure, but even the small font issues aside, there's no guarantee he'll keep up his end of the bargain once he has that signature. ]

[ He hasn't been so far. ]

[ Alright, so maybe Squalo's judgement is a little impaired right now, thanks to still being pissed off at Lucifer. Not as much as he'd been the first few days after the Carnival, but still enough to very much not want to do anything the way he wants. ]

[ He's so bored, though, and he'd been wanting to explore that burning wasteland for weeks. This is the perfect chance. ]

[ Maybe it's fine. Maybe he should just... trust the rules. He could get something nice out of this. Time out of this place. He could see his family again, maybe. But then, Lucifer had been rather particular about what he thought of Squalo's outrage. Who's to say he wouldn't see them again just to see them die horribly, or whatever else? Was the risk worth it? Does the Devil lie? ]

[ Squalo watches you for a moment, as if waiting for your decision, then nods at the contracts with a lopsided grin. ]

I'm not signing that. But I am going.

[ He's just... giving up the reward. He doesn't trust it. ]


-- wildcard

[ Want to do something else? Hit me up here, by PM or on jigglyballs. ]

Reach up high 1

[styxtoshadows]

Oh fuck no.

[Styx has two knives out. He's ready to trip this guy into the way of the abominations if need be.]

Someone staff guy helped me stop one of those fuckers. By the way? Close range fighting? Not recommended.

[deaddrop]

STAND YOUR GROUND - I

Fire and blood raining down from the sky. That's appropriately apocalyptic. The image of the weather—if you can call it that—drives home just the nature of Natasha's new home. For the first two or three days, she watches it from the relative safety of the hotel. She spends time in her room, or in the bar nursing a drink that might generously be called a vodka martini. In an unguarded moment, she'll pause and look from a window in the lobby or the hall. Anyone who joins her will get a brief nod, greeting an invitation in one. Catch her in the right place at the right time, and it may come with a glass of vodka too.

It takes a bit to soak it in, to decide if the weather is horrifying or awesome, and in the end Natasha's not sure she has an answer for how it makes her feel.

Not at first.

By the end of the third day, the answer is both more apparent and more pragmatic: stir crazy.

It's not like she has anything to do. Not really. No obligations. No one to answer to. In some abstract sense there's the mystery of Hell and Lucifer, but at the moment she's largely without leads on that and her self-directed investigation hasn't gotten all that far. And it won't get much further sitting on her heels.

So she risks one of he umbrellas and heads out. She hasn't spent much time in the library; seems like a good time to change that.

Outside Natasha keeps a weather eye out for others braving fire and rain. With little visibility, it's all to easy to get caught and they're probably better off traveling together than alone.


STAND YOUR GROUND - II


Does Natasha truest it? No. Not even a little. At the same time, a hot bath goes a long way to soothing her nerves. She avoids the massages, the blood and the mud and the facials, but a hot tub?

Natasha isn't shy about her body, not the curves and not the scars, of which she has many peppered here and there. Including two separate gunshot wounds, for those keeping track.

She steps into the open pool, sinking in smoothly before she asks: "You don't mind company, do you?"

REACH UP HIGH - I

Natasha would never say she's happy to see monsters, but in a way it is nice to have something to do. She'd rather they weren't running into zombies or ghouls. Naturally.

It's just that when they show up, shambling after the hotel's residents, Natasha knows exactly what she has to do. And the first step is an easy one: find allies. They'll get a lot further working together than alone.

Striding down the hall in her tactical suit, armed and ready, she'll approach the first person she runs into and ask shortly, "Status?"

Then, after a short pause showing a little more empathy, "You okay?"

Stand Your Ground - II

[sensualarchergod]

"What? Uh. No, it's fine. You can just--"

He gestures with his hands in vague invitation. Clint isn't quite sure precisely why he's flustered, because he knows that he's staring as he looks at her. Whether it's the general principle of an attractive woman stepping into a hot tub with him, the part where redheads are universally Trouble, or that she reminds him of someone. It's something in her body language that he can't quite put his finger on. He drags a hand through his short blonde hair, blue eyes looking up at her as he watches her, before realizing it probably seems like leering and dropping his gaze so he's at least not staring straight-on. Still watching how she moves, though.

His body has scars too. Much like hers, but more copious. Clint usually heals clean except for the bad ones, but his flesh is still a litany of injuries, of a man probably in over his head and with no grasp of when to quit, who always has cuts and bruises to nurse. He's not shy about his body despite the scars, and even if he never really saw himself as attractive, being fairly muscular was a certain sort of occupational hazard.

And, she's gorgeous. Clint knows that he's a special sort of stupid when it comes to women that are that sort of beautiful. It was pretty much how he'd ended up in the whole superhero thing to begin with, courtesy of a then-Russian-spy that thought he'd make a useful sidekick.

"This place what you were expecting?" It's a shitty attempt at smalltalk, but he plays it up with a dumb smile.

Peter Parker | Amazing Spiderman | OTA

[spideyguy]

A) Arrival

When Peter wakes up, adrenaline buzzing through his brain on the tail end of what must be a very bad dream (he doesn't remember it, exactly, but he remembers pain and heat and struggling until he couldn't, anymore), his head is pounding. This is, unfortunately, nothing new, but what is new is the smooth, cream ceiling that definitely doesn't look like his bedroom in Queens. His head lolls to the side - the bed he's on is surprisingly comfortable for how stiff he's feeling, and though the red-and-black motel aesthetic doesn't exactly put him at ease, it doesn't seem all that ominous, either. He's woken up in worse places.

Peter sits up too suddenly and has to stop, clutching his head with a wince. Okay, bad idea. This feels...unnatural. Did he get clobbered? Where exactly is he? Peter pushes his glasses to the top of his head so he can pinch the bridge of his nose, rubbing out the lines that tell him he was asleep with his glasses on for long enough to create indentations.

The first thing he notices is his suit, laid out neatly on the little coffee table, and it sends a chill up his spine. Okay. That's not ideal. Peter takes the first few steps off the bed before he even fully registers that he's getting up, moving over to examine it cautiously. But it...it's his suit, webshooters and all, which Peter picks up and slips onto his wrists. The suit, he stuffs into the duffel bag sitting innocuously next to his foot - might as well, why not? Clearly whoever left him here already knew who he was.

That's about when the paper on the bedside table catches his eye, as Peter scans the room. He's alone, totally alone, and it doesn't make sense at all. He approaches the table, picking up the old blackberry and turning it over in his hands curiously for a second - it didn't belong to him, maybe whoever brought him here? - before stuffing it in his pocket and picking up the note.

It's a thick paper, a parchment, really, and Peter unfolds it with a mounting dread he can't quite explain. His neck prickles uncomfortably, but what's worse is the red, scratched writing he reveals when it's completely open. "Is that blood?!"

He doesn't know why he says it aloud - there's no one to talk to - but then he registers what's written on the paper:

1) Doctor Connors
2) Surviving the serum
3) Uncle Ben
4) Captain Stacy
5) Norman Osborn
6) Gwen Stacy

Peter doesn't read number seven - he drops the list with numb fingers, bolting out the door before he makes a conscious decision to do so. He can't be there. He can't read that - he knows what it is, instinctually, all the people he's failed all the lives he's ruined he can't can't can't

Distantly, Peter wonders if he's having a goddamn panic attack, as he sprints down the endless hallways, desperately trying to get away from the creeping darkness that seems to seep in every corner. Anything to put space between him and that paper -

He bursts out into the lobby area and promptly falls on his ass, missing the last step on the stairs. It knocks the wind out of him, and Peter sucks in a shaky breath, staring dazedly up at the ceiling. Is he dreaming? Is this a nightmare inside of a nightmare?


B) Network

Hello? Is...can anybody hear me?

[Peter doesn't exactly trust the blackberry that looks like it should have busted ages before now, but the thing had turned on and lit up, so hey. Gift horse, whatever. His own phone didn't seem to be getting a signal.]

My name is Peter Parker and uh, I'm a little far from New York so if anybody knows where the nearest Greyhound Station is...I'd be much obliged.

[styxtoshadows]

"Watch it." Peter hits the ground not far from where Styx is standing.

Styx is too short to be that green goblin, if Peter even knows who that is yet. Styx leans over, looking at Peter for a long moment, appraising. "What's the matter, you new here?"

Styx | Of Orcs and Men

[styxtoshadows]

Violence warning, probably.
Reach Up High I

A
"What the fuck?"

The thing has his throwing knife. Normally most people would be lying on the ground, dead. But this thing isn't. And it keeps coming.

B

Styx has already figured out he can't kill these things with a few stabs to the back or neck. He's also learned secondhand that bites aren't great.

Zombies or ghouls might stagger into the room after someone only for Styx to cut tendons in the monsters' legs while they're distracted.

But if he's really in a tight spot? You might find him tripping someone into the monsters' way. He doesn't have to be fast: he's only got to outrun you.

A

[powerhog]

[If Styx isn’t already rattled enough, here comes another monster from god knows where! This one, however, seems to have its sights set on the zombie instead of the goblin. It charges right up and runs the undead through with one blade-sharp tusk, then shakes it back off as though it were nothing more than a nuisance.

Ganon turns to Styx with an imperceptible expression (given that he’s essentially a giant pig). That aside, the thick red mane and ornate gold headpiece may look familiar...]

josh foley | marvel

[goldtoxicity]

arrival.

[ He's been to Hell before.

Or near as it that the living can get. Limbo is a place of misery and suffering and he is not pleased to be back here... but maybe he deserves to be. Cowardice had been on that list, along with murder, promiscuity, arrogance, vanity... He's died twice now and that had never resulted in... this. Just black, just - stasis, before he'd awoken. Is this actually hell? Did he die for real and not even realize it?

It's a lot. This is a lot. Josh stumbles out of his room and into the hall, a matte black and gold hand tangled his stark white hair, the stress already showing. There are other people around, none of them familiar faces so far as he can see, but he reaches out none the less. ]

H-hey... Where are we? What's going on?

stand your ground. mild body horror

[ The weather outside is fucking frightful. The guy says this is normal and he feels his stomach drop. He can't stay here he - well, he just can't, his mind is full of enough noise and being stuck in a tiny space isnt going to do anyone any favors.]

Oh, this is going to suck.

[ But he heads out. Umbrella in hand, it's all fine, it's all good - and then someone bumps into him, sends the umbrella skittering out of reach and out of his hands, picks it up and goes. And there he is. Stuck under a downpour of fiery rain without any shielding.

And being a healer? Having a permanent auto heal cranked up to max? That doesn't do shit when your injuries are healing as quickly as they're being inflicted. It's just a permanent state of burning and unburning and it has him bolting for the nearest bit of shelter he can find, the gold skin steadily bleeding into black. ]

reach up high - i, body horror

H-hold still, I'm a healer, I can fix you, just -

[ except he can't. he can feel their biology changing, warping, and the feeling of it is overwhelming enough. he falls back, away from swiping claws, back hitting the wall. ]

Stop, I can help you!

[ but he can't. they clearly aren't hearing him, either. josh pushes himself back and starts running for the nearest room he can barricade himself into, slamming the door shut behind him and collapsing against it. ]

reach up high - ii

[ This place is sure living up to its name. Confess your sins and get out? Be forgiven? These people aren't really the ones that need to do the forgiving, but he remembers confessional at church to be liberating.

There's really nothing liberating about hiding in a room while his fellow captives are transformed into monsters and he can't do a goddamn thing to fix it. ]

I killed a classmate. [ the words come out in a rush, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes averted. ] I didn't think there was any saving him, and he pissed me off, and he tried to kill my friend and he tried to kill me, so instead of trying to knock him out, I obliterated him using his own powers. Then I ran away and left all my friends to hang without a healer, and I know some of them died when I could've saved them>, and I have no idea how to live with that.

[ Something tells him that's not good enough. ]

Just like I'm doing right now, and like I did when I came back, because I'm a coward and I don't like owning up to my mistakes.

reach up high - ish

[electro_kinetic]

Noriko had been holed up in her room. Zombies and tentacle monsters were definitely not up her alley, and though for someone with permanent energy being stuck in a single building (let alone a single room) kinda sucks, she is absolutely not going to venture out. Not until this nonsense calms down.

It's in that vein that Nori looks up, startled, and is out of her chair and standing--and glowing painfully bright--when Josh slams the door shut behind him. Forgive her, she may be speechless for a moment.

"Josh? What the fuck are you doing here?"

Noctis Lucis Caelum ; FFXV ; OtA

[waywardscion]

𝒜𝓇𝒾𝓋𝒶𝓁 ;

The words wash over him like a cool breeze in contrast to the heat that stroked him with each flex he gave of resistance. The promise of comfort and ease was far more desirable than his current situation and Noctis relaxed into the infernal abyss. The next breath he took was a desperate swallow for life, he jolted up to a sitting position and looked around expecting to see one of his companions to greet him. When he saw an unfamiliar loneliness in an unfamiliar room he lowered his head in despair. His body felt heavy, weak, and he was groggy with an ache to his temple.

It took Noctis more time to leave the bed than it did to leave the room. He was perceptive enough to see the parchment with three words upon it: Envy, Wrath, Pride, but the unfamiliar sight of the empty room was far more ominous than the crimson words. He was sure to find Gladio, Ignis, Prompto elsewhere, he just needed to go.

The long hallways were no more comfort to the prince than the room had been, and his head throbbed with a persistent ache. It was only when he was out in the hallway did he began to flood with flashes of his last memories before waking here. Or so he thought.

One thing was more predominant than the other and that was he was being swallowed up by the crystal. From then to here he had no explanation and no sense of where he even was.

If only he could find his friends.

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒴ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒢𝓇ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹

Prompt 1 ;

Noctis gravitated to the library once he had learned of its existence. There wasn't anything he had seen yet that was familiar to him, however, the staff in the library seemed to insist that he meander over to a particular section which almost sounded familiar. They lured him with talk about powerful interventions by divine beings, impacting those upon the world, or the world itself; these sort of things Noctis could make sense of as if they were talking about the astrals or star scourge. "Witchcraft.." Noctis mused to himself as he moseyed down one of the aisles in the section.

It had become abundantly clear to him now that he was not in his "world" nor the world of the crystal, but the question still remained: how did he even arrive here?

ℛℯ𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝒰𝓅 ℋ𝒾ℊ𝒽

Prompt 1;

It was just a flesh wound. Yet, where Noctis was bitten on his hand, there was a terrible spiderweb of dark green veins pulsating puss from the wound tat trekked all the way up his arm and seemed to be spreading quickly. The strange thing about it was his wound didn't seem to hurt him, despite how it mentally impacted him by the existence of it. The other strange thing about having been bitten was the fact that the abominations bothered him less, both by the fact they seemed to skirt around him or over him and the strangeness of having found peace in the coexistence of them in any proximity to Noctis. In fact, he seemed to be going their direction, toward the other sinners.

In fact, he had one in his sights that looked quite edible - or nice - to snack on. The thoughts really didn't seem to make sense to him, but he was alright with that as well. "Ahnnn~" He opened his mouth to say 'hello'. Of course, he didn't register that his noise wasn't at all anything that was close to a greeting, but he was at peace with everything now.

If only he could snack on someone.

ℱℴ𝓁𝓁ℴ𝓌 ℳℯ 𝒟ℴ𝓌𝓃

Prompt 2 ;

Noctis' vision swirled in front of him and the book he held in his hands seemed to lift from his palms and left them empty. The smell of the library's parchments, ink, dust, and age changed into a smoked scent of incense. His vision steadied again and he was no longer in the library but in an uncomfortable room with a variety of objects that took him far too long to recognize as sex-toys. The question went from how he ended up here to how could he get out of here as fast as he could.

He tried not to pay attention to anything else in the room and focused his sights on the door and rushed toward it in an attempt to run from whatever was planned for him in here.

Stand Your Ground 1

[innerdaemon]

The library was somewhere Ardyn had taken to coming when he had tired of the company of his fellow sinners. Here, amid books, even if they were strange books that reflected an entirely different paradigm than he was used to, he felt a sliver of peace.

Today was one of those days, and he stood by the bookshelf, thumbing through an illustrated treatise on demonology, deciding if it was worth perusing further. He looked up when another person entered the aisle... and froze.

At first he thought the other must surely be some new trick of the mind, but all such illusions had been far more piercing. This... this seemed uncomfortably normal. Uncomfortably real. Well. Only one way to test these waters.

He didn't put the book down. In fact, he still held it open, regarding Noctis with an expression of mild amusement as he shifted to lean against the bookcase.

"Why, Your Highness, what a pleasant surprise."

poe dameron | star wars crau

[followhim]

reach up high ii

[ the undead are out and about in the hotel. they're doing bad things. (he almost feels like one of them, on account of the vampire thing. like somebody's going to run away from him and he's going to have to be like "wait it's me poe, a totally normal guy.")

except, you know. he's not a totally normal guy. he'd go outside if the blood raining out of the sky didn't make him feel antsy as hell. would it be exposure therapy or..... not? we'll never know. because he's here and he's a guy that can go very fast, sonic the hedgehog zooming away from any potential threat.

well, that's what he'd do if. you know. he didn't want to stop and help other people because he's a chump. 🙃 he'll appear in a blur to anyone doing some general existing like ]

Hey, are you okay? You shouldn't stick around here. D'you need repellent?

[ there's something. there's a zombie or eldritch tentacles right around the corner. BOTH? who knows. it'll be fine. maybe. ]

[tbh i just really wanted to do this prompt! but if you wanna do something else with me, feel free to pm me here or on plurk at ruthnor ]

[brightestinthenight]

[hey, poe? the whole zoomy thing is super cool but mayyybe not when everyone with a weapon has their guard way up on account of the AWFUL MONSTERS. yuri barely stops himself from slicing at his neck.]

Poe?!

[he's got some gore on him. it's not his.]

Ganondorf | Legend of Zelda

[powerhog]

Stand Your Ground II

[While Ganondorf is absolutely not keen on returning to the site of the fairgrounds, word that a spa of all things has sprung up in its place is enough to lure him that way a second time. Such luxuries had never been easy to come by back home, especially those involving excessive amounts of clean water.

He strips out of his armor and underclothing without hesitation, not one bit shy despite the brutal scar in the very center of his chest that has discolored otherwise dark skin to an almost white pallor. After a much longer than strictly necessary shower he finds the nearest bath with space and settles in, looking leisurely about the large room to take in the breadth of Hell’s captives at their most physically vulnerable.

His inspection is perfectly pragmatic, but you may not be comfortable catching a large, intense looking man staring at you in a bathhouse. Who’d have thought?]



Reach Up High I

[He’d have preferred silent, lingering resentment from the carnival debacle over ever hearing Lucifer’s voice again, never mind what sort of news their gracious host was delivering. More curious than cautious of what he could possibly mean by “germs”, however, Ganondorf makes his way down to the hotel lobby only to discover that it had been a sizable understatement. And speaking of size, the diminutive scimitar he’d arrived with was not going to cut it.

“It” being the thrashing tentacles of what’d once been a staff member now set upon another hotel guest.

Ganondorf grits his teeth and dives aside to avoid one of the writhing limbs, landing hard on hands and knees instead of his feet. What may look to an observer like a man knocked prone soon becomes something else entirely. Dark energy obscures his features and twists them until a bear-sized boar with long claws instead of hooves and sharp, curved tusks stands in his place. He roars a challenge, positioning himself between the abomination and the one it’d been pursuing.]

reach up high- i

[poisonedpride]

[Ariana should have been doing just fine, thank you, but she's out of bullets and down to her dagger when the tentacled monster comes after her. She's at a disadvantage in close quarters with the thing, doing her level best to lop off the waving limbs, when Ganondorf lands by her side.]

[Whatever she might have said to him is interrupted by his transformation, and the surprise on her face is quickly replaced by a pleased smile. Ariana whirls to take on a zombie that has lumbered into the room, leaving the monstrosity to her new companion.]

Jemma Simmons || Agents of SHIELD || OTA

[bravejemma]

1. Arrival

[Gift shops were something of a weakness of Jemma's. Not so severe as to be on the list of transgressions that she now kept in her pocket, but there was something fascinating in both a good and bad way about what people would emblazon their place name on -- keychains, shot glasses, statuary, t-shirts, nothing too big or too gaudy to declare "Hey, I Went Here and Bought a Thing!" And there's certainly an interesting selection in this shop.

Back in the corner she finds a bar and the jukebox, bright and bold as any you might find in a cheesy diner. She's leery of pouring herself anything to drink, given how she'd woken up, but she flips through the music, noticing the pattern: Sympathy for the Devil, Highway to Hell, Devil Went Down to Georgia, Go to Hell -- well, at least they could keep with a theme.]


2. Stand Your Ground - I

[Jemma was from England and used to rain. All year round, cold winter rains that almost froze to ice on the pavement and was slick to walk or drive in, warm rains in the summer that were for children to play in, and everything in between. What she was not accustomed to was fire and blood dropping from the sky.

By the time she realized what the thick liquid soaking her clothes and hair was, it was mostly too late. She choked on a scream and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She nearly slips as she sprints into the hotel lobby, now dripping with blood. Jemma. It's just blood. You've done autopsies and surgery and been injured and injured others. Don't lose your wits.

That pep talk is going to go on for a little bit longer.]


3. Reach Up High - I

[The hotel was being overrun. And while she wouldn't have said she felt safe by any stretch of the imagination, it was much less threatening behind her barricaded door with (your character!). She has a weapon, just a simple fireman's ax which she'd taken from the box in the hall -- which really, seems sort of ridiculous, given that this is Hell and who is going to try and put out a fire in Hell--

Jemma jumps and squeezes her eyes shut when there's a bang on the wall near the door, and then a scratching noise at the door, like a dog wanting to be let in. It goes eerily silent for a moment, and she hopes whatever is on the other side has merely gone away. She releases the breath she'd been holding, shakily, and makes herself open her eyes.]

I hope that door holds.


4. Something Else

[You pick something. \o/]

3. Reach Up High - I

[deaddrop]

[All things considered, there are worse people than Natasha Romanoff to be holed up with when monsters attack. There's probably better too, but so far she hasn't gotten any complaints.

She doesn't expect that to change.

She leans against the dresser that's been shoved in front of the door, weapons still in their harnesses. The door will last for a while. Even if it goes, there's furniture to get through before the zombie get to them. But she likes being able to feel just how much pressure they're putting on things.]

It'll hold. The door's solid, and the monsters aren't. [Then, glancing over her shoulder.] Probably they'll get bored and try another door.

Haruka Tenoh/Sailor Uranus | Sailor Moon

[prepareuranus]

Ａ． ＡＲＲＩＶＡＬ

[Nothing she hears is revelation.

She expected this, knows she deserves it. She doesn't bother reading the list of sins on her bedside table. Just snatches the paper up and turns to where she expects to see Michiru in the bed beside her.

It's empty.

No.

By some miracle she doesn't understand and doesn't fucking care to try to understand at this moment, she can still transform and she does so before leaving the room. The first demonic creature she sees gets thrown up against the wall with a jewel-encrusted sword pressed against its neck.

Walking down the hall, you get to be greeted to this sight- a short-haired, pissed off woman in a sailor skirt about ready to gut a demon.] Where is she?! Where's Michiru?!


Ｂ． ＲＥＡＣＨ ＵＰ ＨＩＧＨ （ＰＲＯＭＰＴ ＯＮＥ）

[She's fought alone before. It has been known to happen, but never like this. She's always, at least, known that Michiru would be coming to back her up. She was somewhere nearby. Is this really how Hell works? Forcing her to break a promise after committing such a horrific sin?

No matter. She'll fight her way through Hell to get back to Michiru, to her princess, to her fellow Guardians. If there's an option to redeem herself and crawl out of this pit, then she'll take it.

There's so many civilians here who have no business fighting monsters like this. Only Sailor Guardians deal with this sort of shit in her world and that makes it hard to tell the braggarts from the genuine article. Either way, she considers herself stronger. She throws her all into it.

She even takes a few hits. Not very pragmatic of her, she knows. You need to watch that. These aren't your friends. Still, she got cocky and the eldritch beast's initial target was careless, and now there's a Sailor Suited growling woman bent at the knee, clutching a festering wound on her shoulder, scowling up at the person she just leapt in to save, her sword drooping from her good hand.]

Move, dammit. I didn't save your life so you could get killed right after.

[She's got a Word Shaking in her. She's just got to get the other person out of the way.]


Ｃ. ＦＯＬＬＯＷ ＭＥ ＤＯＷＮ （ＰＲＯＭＰＴ ＯＮＥ）

[A bad deal got her into this.

Maybe a bad deal will get her out of it.

That shouldn't be how it works- probably isn't, to be honest, but she was sent here without Michiru, having betrayed her friends and everything just seemed so perfect in that illusion. It's a fucking myth is what it is. She knows when something is too good to be true.

But she could almost hear Michiru's laugh, the kittens pawing for her attention. Setsuna and Hotaru telling her they understood why she did what she did.

She leans against the wall of the suite in her civilian form, androgynous as always, arms crossed, resigned to the decision she knows she'll make. Always with the hard choices, eh Haruka?] It's a trick. No matter what option we take, we're not going to get off lightly.


Ｄ． ＦＯＬＬＯＷ ＭＥ ＤＯＷＮ （ＰＲＯＭＰＴ ＴＷＯ）

[Haruka's getting really fucking tired of being transported places she wasn't right before, and she's even more tired of these motherfucking demons in her motherfucking life. The room holds no regard for her, nor does her partner for any number of reasons, though if her partner is female, she'll be less disgusted.

But all in all, her attitude is the same, teeth-grit as she stands, unable to transform in front of an audience- can't have that trump card exposed so early- and looks ready to start punching demons.]

No offense, but I already have someone. [She's probably talking to her partner, but her eyes are on the demons entirely.]

Arrival

[compelledtoprotect]

[Steve knew the sound of a demon hitting a wall almost as well as he knew the sound of an angry person yelling at one. He hurried his steps, well aware that the odds of any of the demons giving the person the information they wanted was nil. Steve turned the corner and paused for a moment, impressed. Wow. He was all about strong women, but it wasn't that often you found ones equipped with a sword. It was . . . wow. He approached slowly and spoke quietly, not eager to see any blood shed.]


Hey. He's not gonna tell you anything Miss, they never do. Just let him down and I'll tell you everything I know about this place. Really, he's not worth your time Miss. Talk to me, I won't hold anything back.

julian keller ( marvel 616 )

[vexant]

STAND YOUR GROUND; 1

( the blood doesn't bother him. the raining hellfire and various crap doesn't; hell, julian keeps a nice, thick telekinetic shield between himself and the mess. lets it shove away blood pooling on the ground so he doesn't have to get his shoes dirty with that crap. he walks around with ease, head held high like all of this shit isn't happening around him up until

there's something out there, a whisper, and it's enough to snap his focus. to have him whirling around with a raised hand, green shimmering from his fingertips as the forcefield bursts outward, shoves the rain away in a wide, wide radius around himself. )

Shut up!!

( the field snaps, breaks as his control does and drops to nothing. for a moment, he's left in the quiet, getting drenched, shoes covered. he doesn't pay any attention to anything going on around him. just takes a moment to breathe, scoffs under his breath, and re-raises the shield.

doesn't get off the shit that's already on him, unfortunately. )

FOLLOW ME DOWN; 1

( any hesitation to follow lucifer's commands by his partner go promptly ignored. julian goes to the mirror, reads the contract, and doesn't wait a moment before he's biting down on the flesh of his forearm to open up a nice-sized cut and shove it right against glass.

it's. only then that the other person gets any attention, a brow raising before both arms move to cross over his chest again. )

Well?

WILDCARD

( come at me with whatever! or you can find me on plurk at sharkly to figure out something else. as a note, julian doesn't have hands, they're metal prosthetics controlled by his telekinesis. they'll glow a bright green when moving, and he doesn't have any issue using them as a normal person would use their fleshy bits. he's used to it, he won't act as if they're any different from normal hands, but they're noticeable. )

follow me down

[goldtoxicity]

[ the worst part is not knowing reality from hallucinations. since coming here things have started to... to blur together. Edges blurring, his grip tenuous even at the best of times. Sometimes he wakes up to the sound of Laurie laughing, or the sound of Kevin's shriek as he died.

He isn't sure Julian's real. Is sure that whatever he's seeing in the mirror isn't. But those lines blur. His head hurts and Julian's speaking, his head snapping up, unfocused eyes blinking and fixing on him. Maybe. He doesn't have any discernable iris or pupil anymore. ]

What the hell did you just do, Julian? [ is the first thing he says to Julian Keller in five years, reaching to to grab his bitten hand as he flips a knife out of his pocket to cut his own, pressing the (briefly) bleeding injury against the glass. ]

Vicious | Cowboy Bebop

[onlyforrevenge]

Arrival

He wasn't surprised to wake up in Hell, he was surprised Hell looked like a tacky hotel. Where was the fire and brimstone? Where was the torture? Where was the suffering? Was it Hell because he was forced to keep going even after death?

Vicious made his way down the halls leaving death in his wake, eventually ending up in the lobby; he didn't much like being bitched at by demons and someone had kindly left him his katana. It wasn't as if anything seemed to happen after the first one fell, so why not? Death hadn't awakened charity in him; he was still completely empty but for the burning hatred and pain that had been his constant companion since that night. He didn't even notice the spatters of gore that flecked his clothes thanks to the demon slaying.

He paused in the lobby and looked around, katana dripping blood softly onto the carpet, then walked up to the bar. Vicious poured himself a drink but didn't actually try it. He just stood there, watching.



Reach Up High

Killing was second nature to Vicious. He didn't hesitate when the demons started looking a little stranger than normal. Anything that got in his face was liable to be cut down, monster or person. He didn't hesitate to throw others into the path of the monsters either. Vicious didn't do nice. He didn't have anything like a moral compass anymore, and even if he had, he wouldn't have listened to it. All that mattered was getting back, or getting out. If he couldn't have his revenge, he wanted the promise of death to become a reality.

Hadn't he done enough to deserve oblivion yet?



Follow Me Down

Vicious was leaning against the far wall, glaring at the new person in the room. He didn't understand the point. Who cared if people fucked? Who cared if someone wanted to watch? Who gave a damn what people wanted to do with each other? None of it made any sense. You couldn't even fuck your way to the top, since their supposed leader didn't let himself be touched.

So why was he locked in a room with some stranger? Why him? Didn't everyone else in the hotel already fuck each other silly? What did they expect he could offer someone else couldn't? Vicious wasn't above using sex to get what he wanted, but fucking a complete stranger for no reason wasn't something he saw any value in. What kind of Hell thrived on random sex instead of pain and torture? And who the fuck wanted to see someone like him hurting a random person? He'd much rather just use his sword if that was the point of the imprisonment.

Reach Up High

[pococurante]

Spike patrols the hallways, dispatching horrors and zombies with remarkable efficiency. It's a good way to blow off steam after being press ganged into being some clown's pain puppet for the better part of a week.

And maybe he's hoping he'll find that clown a shambling, empty-eyed husk of what it was. So he can kill it, and rid himself of the specter of Le Fou again.

Zwei follows close at his heels, proving himself to be remarkably good at raising the alarm even if he's not much use in a fight. "It's ok. I can take care of the fighting," he reassures the hellhound, reaching down to scritch the top of his head between his ears. Zwei snarls but doesn't snap at his fingers. "Ah, so you liked that, huh? I'm gonna crack your code sooner or later."

Zwei growls some more, his baleful gaze shifting from Spike's face to something down the hall. Spike doesn't miss the shift, and checks the magazine in his pistol before raising and looking to see what they're dealing with this time. It's not shambling like a zombie. Or slithering like a horror.

It's... Vicious?

"What the fuck."