TEST DRIVE MEME #33

[penancemods]

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 and nothingness consumes you for a second, And it seems to linger for a long time. There is nothing at all. It must be lonely. But it won’t be forever.

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.

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. They are urged forward to take a numbered ticket and wait their turn in the long line. As they're ushered forward through the corridor, their first stop will be to see Lilith, standing outside her office.

The woman in a smart suit and a friendly smile steps forward to greet sinners one by one. "I'm sorry for your rough landing. We've never gotten it quite as smooth as it was in the past. Please, let me see your hand--"

Once she has the sinner's hand, there's the warm, almost electric touch of magic that soothes away the aches and pains, heals the wound left behind on each sinner's palm. Lilith looks satisfied with her work and gives a nod. "There, all better. Please take your care package and continue on until you reach the stairs."

On their way out, sinners receive their 'package', a contract detailing all sins committed. If they look at the list closely enough they'll notice it's written with their blood. That explains the palm wound then. It's an old piece of parchment despite the freshly written letters upon it. They will also receive a slightly more modern smart phone. Think early generation Android and a pamphlet made by other sinners during their stay here with useful tips.

After that, sinners will be ushered on to a set of stairs where a guard waits. "Welcome to Penance," the demon says gruffly before motioning them on without an ounce of courtesy. "Don't hold up the line."

They seem to go on and wind forever, but eventually, they come upon what appears to be a lobby of a hotel. Once there, they will notice several shops and other areas around the front desk.

The demon at the front desk looks rather bored, but when sinners approach? He seems to snap to attention to offer whatever help they might need of him. He will at least direct to food or rooms to rest their wary bodies, or recommend sights to see around the hotel.


Stand Your Ground

Initially, most of the excitement seems to be out of the community. Staff informs the newcomers that residents were sent out to retrieve ancient artifacts for Lucifer. But they'll return soon enough, and seem to have brought something extra along with them. Five groups left, but there are six returning.

The extra caravan is a little older than the others, a crickety vehicle that might be relying on some kind of magic to keep itself from completely falling apart. But it only needs to enter the community gates before it comes to a stop and its inhabitants emerge: two cloaked demons pull open the compartments and windows and begin shouting for attention.

Sinners! There's no need to pray to a God that won't answer you! Why are you slaving yourselves to the bone trying to earn a redemption that may never come? There's so much more to Hell than what you've all been allowed to see!

So it's fortunate that these merchants have come, bearing bounties and treasures from every level of Hell. They've got lucky dice from history's greatest gamblers, gold coins nicked from the Greediest tortures, black tar from the punishments of the wrathful, and so much more. It seems like, whatever you think to ask for, they have exactly what you need. No matter the request, they'll have a suggestion. You're desperate for that rare Pokemon card? They've got three! Need a quickie love potion to get that special someone to return your affection? They've just restocked on those! A key to get home? sure thing, kid, it's right in the back compartment. One key and one map, coming right up.

There's even a freezer that still has a block of some of the very ice from Lucifer's own throne, preserved from the era when he ruled over the barren tundras of Hell's lowest levels.

Oh, the price? Nothing too upsetting. Everything they sell just costs a little bit of your soul. Nothing too crazy. You won't even miss it! They just need you to sign on the dotted line as the tiniest formality and you'll be good to go.

The caravan has gone somewhere else before sinners have time to ask many questions, and be long gone before anyone realizes that there's something wrong with everything. That special card was a forgery, and when you try to show it to someone you find yourself breathing fire instead. The potion makes your special someone break out in rashes, or suddenly become a different gender! And that map to get home leads to a storage closet that unleashes a herd of coal tars. Whether it's a mirror of wisdom that's suddenly reciting all your greatest insecurities for the world to hear or a snake charming flute that only puts people to sleep, it's clear that the community has been swindled.

Whatever souls are spent seem to be gone with the shyster con-goblins that have already scrambled off to find their next marks. Buyers beware, because there are no refunds.


There's Still Green All Around?

With spring just started, the flowers in the park are somehow even more pungent and putting out even stronger pollen, and some extras. The newly-opened Mammon Park in Hellburbia will smell utterly enticing from even far away, and lure people into the fold where pollen might affect them stronger, or plants might welcome them with open arms. Whatever a person loves most will be in the air, leading them in, those pheromones taking hold of them.

The pollen flies farther than ever before, affecting even those in the hotel. Minding your business in the club dancing away or nursing a drink in the hotel lobby? Suddenly that person next to you is the most undeniably attractive person ever and you just have to confess your love, or have them."

Other types may inspire you to become possessive to the point of obsession, or see someone else entirely. Perhaps an old flame, an old enemy… Is it sex or a fight you’re craving? Only time will tell.

All across Penance, there are large dandelions that seem to put out a pleasant aroma that improves moods, small trees that promise to bear fruit and future shade in the community, as well as various other smaller flowers and bushes to spruce the place up.

Mammon Park is a flourishing location with a friendly ice cream demon and other food stands, but most importantly, flora that has been fed with the Savior’s own blood. It has bloomed beautifully in response to this, and wow, is it ever impressive! While everything carries an odd bruised or red look to it, thanks to the blood, it has a certain beauty to it…

Even the hell roses with eyeballs in the center that seem to watch your every move, or the ones that seem to be too close to flesh for comfort. There are also some rather sad, tiny plants that may seem to whimper when sinners pass too closely by, or try to cutely snap at fingers or hands. They don’t even have teeth though, so don’t worry!

There are also some strangely tall weed-like plants that almost seem to hug each other – and passers-by. They’re surely just sharing the love! Mind the thorns though.

To encourage visitors to come to the park, there will be live music and performances of all types to draw in a crowd. There are flowers to pick for that beloved of yours or a place to grill out for your friends. There’s also a fairly tall wishing well, but it’s still under construction… no need to pay much attention to that.

As mentioned, there will be pollen in the air that will encourage good moods and the urge to linger out in the sunshine. Some may see glimpses of it as a yellow dust that’s floating around the air.

Some plants may puff out a pink mist of pollen that encourages love at first sight. or the urge to be romantic.

Others may do black that makes it impossible to hold the tongue. Incessant talking about things you may not want to is a distinct possibility with this one.

Some may very well be immune to the pollen all together and not know why everyone is going crazy around them.

But no sense in avoiding a perfectly welcoming, even romantic affair over a little bit of pollen, right? Right.


Reach Up High

Prompt I: The First Pull is the Hardest

WARNINGS: cutting, blood, torture

Whether you've been here for months or you're freshly arrived, your demonic overlord unfortunately expects some participation despite the current state of things. You can try and shirk the responsibility, of course. You can bargain your way out of it for a while. But eventually, you may find yourself trapped in a room just off the gym that's been fondly dubbed The Torture Room. It has all manner of equipment in there, along with an iron maiden even.

But don't worry about any of that right now. It probably won't be used.

You can try the door, but even with super human strength or every lock picking skill in the book, you won't be able to open it.

It soon becomes apparent what you're supposed to do when someone else is eventually shoved in with you. Both of your lists of sins will appear on a table that's been placed in the center of the room with two handy knives. You can choose to guard these or not care at all that they're on display.

"Unfortunately, due to Father coming back into the picture, I know that He will demand proper punishment be delivered despite our circumstances going forward. I have chosen a rather easy one, focused on honesty and acceptance of your sins. Please pick up a knife and choose a sin from each of your lists to carve upon your skin. Aid each other in your journey, carve the words to help your fellow penitent be candid with everyone around them!"

The voice rings out within the sinners' heads as it always does, although Lucifer seems agitated at the moment, hesitant in some way that he usually isn't.

"I do apologize for this. If it was up to me, you would be free of this nonsense. However, there will be additional incentive for anyone who should try to resist the task I've appointed them."

It isn't a lie nor an idle threat either. The longer you wait to do what's been requested of you, the more shallow cuts that will appear on both of your bodies. Are you really prepared to endure this pain when giving in would be so much easier?

And more than that, are you willing to let another suffer along with you?

Eventually, the cuts will stop if you suffer them long enough, but you'll have failed this challenge and sustained more damage than if you'd just gone along with it. Satan will also be very disappointed in you.


Prompt II

For the chance to remove one sin from their contract, sinners are presented with the opportunity to help out around the hotel, park and other establishments, cleaning, doing repairs, or cooking, etc. Helping out the local demons will certainly win points for those who are newly arrived and show a willingness to work for redemption!

Just don’t be offended when there’s a helpful member of the demonic staff following you around critiquing your methods or how you don’t really know how to season hell boar at all. Disgraceful. You can ask fellow sinners to taste it or to observe it and it will no doubt receive the same critique! But maybe if you manage to convince the helpful demon or prove yourself, they'll agree to vouch for you to Lucifer...


Follow Me Down

Prompt I

WARNINGS: sex pollen, sex, dub-con, non-con, kinks, public displays

Of course Hell is never so simple, is it? There’s a curious purple dust coming from the disturbing hell roses that seems to be spreading all across Penance now, even into the hotel or surrounding establishments. If inhaled, it may cause sudden arousal that may be too great for sinners to ignore. Whether this means touching themselves, falling in with someone(s) close to them, or seeking out the tentacled plants that seem to be coaxing them in and so eager to please…

Well, you certainly get the idea.

The pollen will encourage public displays of shameless sexual acts. Sinners will not care that they are on full display if they’re able to satiate the burning need for more. Fortunately, Mammon also seems to set up some inviting tents that seem to be full of eager sinners and demons that quickly lose themselves in a sea of limbs and pleasure.

There’s no harm in letting go once in a while, is there? And there’s an eager need to be greedy still going around, to claim everything that should be rightfully yours.

If it mixes with other pollen types, reactions may be even more unpredictable, ranging from loving to violent acts that absolutely need to be carried out, or trying something you never thought you would before.>.


Prompt II

WARNINGS: Alcohol and drug abuse, potential non-con/dub-con

With all the sinners, new and old, the hotel bar will be lit up with activity. Drinks will be readily available, there's food in the kitchens if anyone wants to bother serving it, music will be blaring whenever there's electricity, and overall, there will be an energy to the atmosphere that's absolutely contagious. Even if you aren't typically inclined to linger at these sorts of events there may be be a certain pull to stay and have a bit of fun.

You might not get much of a chance to have that in Hell, after all. One drink won't hurt, right? Nor will one more after that, and after that. Ah, sweet gluttony. Why not have a pastry next? There's some delectable sweets available just a few steps away. More of a meat person? Like things salty? Fear not, it looks like someone graciously brought all sorts of snacks and foodstuffs from the kitchens to the bar as the night progresses. Indulge! You deserve it.

Similar to Club Penance, the bar also has every sort of drug available that might tickle your fancy and some you've never heard of. There's no harm in experimenting, is there? You're already in Hell. The staff will offer to show anyone how to use the drugs or give advice for what to try if you tell them what you want to experience. Shockingly, they won't lie! Their advice is good word its just you might not have been exactly prepared for it.

There's a stage and a karaoke machine for those feeling brave or just wanting to torture people with some sweet, sweet renditions of The Devil Went Down to Georgia.

There are tables set up for all sorts of gambling and various bar games to entertain yourself with. Since currency as most are familiar with it doesn't quite exist down here, most of the demons seem to be accepting bits of your soul or offers to do chores around the hotel. You may also get pulled into a fun game of strip poker against one of your fellow guests for a few succubi that are having a night out.

Relax and enjoy your night. Coming here and facing your sins is the hard part, so surely you deserve to have a little fun.


Wildcard/Misc.

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[penancemods]

[bottle]

So Tech and Yennefer will be researching in the library to find information about the spell Mammon tried to do during the wedding -- with Tech's ability to read the hell languages left over from Hellburbia, what would they be able to find?

Noiz | DRAMAtical Murder | OTA, prose and brackets equally welcome

[zunge]

There's Still Green All Around? cw: potential for smut

It looked like the pollen wasn't done messing with Noiz, and it kept striking when he least expected it, goddamnit. Noiz would be minding his own business in a number of places when he'd suddenly find himself hit with certain impulses and intrusive thoughts.

Maybe he's in the arcade and he demands you play against him in some fighter game and you better take it seriously. After all, there's no fun in winning against a pushover. Maybe instead he's somewhere in the hotel or even at the sexy half of Club Penance, and it's suddenly hit him how utterly kissable you are. "Ever kissed someone with tongue piercings?" Probably not the worst line to hit on someone with.


The First Pull is the Hardest cw: cutting, blood, torture

Whether it's the first time or the third, the moment Noiz sees those contract scrolls in the middle he swoops in to grab for his before the other person stuck with him can take a look. His list of sins is no one else's fucking business to look at, and it's not necessary for others to see.

(It's possible he grabs the wrong scroll, of course. In which case he peers at it, tries to take the right one, and will aggressively bargain for his scroll should the other person refuse to hand it over.)

Regardless of how that exchange goes, once the first shallow cut appears on his finger Noiz can't help but lower his gaze and zero in on the split skin blossoming with pain. It hurts. It actually hurts. It hurts, and the fact that it hurts supports the theory that's been growing in his mind for the past month. His eyes close as he sucks in a slow, almost hungry breath and brings his bleeding finger to lick it clean. Pale green eyes flit back up to meet the gaze of whichever poor soul is stuck with him. "They sure don't waste time."

As of now, he's yet to decide whether to go along with the sin word carving, or to simply let the cuts appear on them both.



Reach Up High II

With how much Noiz starts to frequent the arcade, it's no wonder that he soon learns that some of the games are... unreliable, for lack of a better term. And it's always the ones he actually likes to play. Frustrated with the frequent technical difficulties, in time he caves and gets to work on fixing whatever's causing the problems. This attracts the attention of the demon employees who harange him into becoming the new repair technician. You know what, fine, whatever, he'll just focus on fixing the games he wants to play.

Which is all fine and good. But it does become annoying when the demon boss who oversees the arcade starts hovering over his shoulder and critiquing his troubleshooting job.

"Fuck off already," you might see him snarling at the demonic nitpicker. "I'd like to see you do any better, Goatface."



Wildcard

For everything else. Black and purple pollen both good. Gen and sexy both welcome. Feel free to run a scenario by me first if you like. Contact at inthetatras and Numi#5838.

arcade

[savedbyasong]

Shion enjoyed the arcade, he was slowly getting used to the different games and was finding some he was quite good at. Others he was terrible at.

He recognised Noiz, felt a little awkward considering he had fed off him not so long ago. But he had paid for the blood with food at least so it was less bad then the people he had just attacked.

The challenge isn't completely unsuspected, after all competition was part of gaming.

"Okay. I'll do my best."

the first pull, in bracket flavor

[holeinwall]

They don't, but you are!

[ There was no issue with sins lists, at least, because Monika's done this song and dance plenty of times before. She knows hers by sight and always makes sure to snatch it up before anyone can get their greedy little eyes on it. The last thing she needs is someone being judgemental on top of everything! Like, just look at who she ended up with. He'd probably have a riot over her sins!

But unlike her usual visits here, she's oddly on edge. Tense and jumpy. And for some reason, her eyes keep flicking in the direction of a giant metal bull tucked away in the back of the room. None of the wounds from her last meeting remain, thanks to a feather from her dear husband Setsuna, but the damage to her psyche and ego is still good and strong. Not that she thinks Noiz will toss her into that horrifying bull, but still...

With the softest of whimpers, she forces her gaze to stay on him, rubbing at a fresh cut on her arm. ]

I'd like to do this the easy way, if you don't mind!

Rorschach | Watchmen

[ronchronchronch]

[ooc; Rorschach's opt-out is here! Heads up to people who aren't familiar with Watchmen: Rorschach regards his mask as his face, hence him describing it the way he does.]

Arrival

[I'm alive, he thinks. And it's not with relief that he greets that realisation, but with grief and anger, his every muscle rigid and his jaw tight. The tears he shed in the snow of the arctic are still frozen to his cheeks, covered by his face, the black swirling rapidly from one pattern to the next. It's a small mercy that his uniform was recovered with him. A small mercy among the immense cruelty of denying him the peace of oblivion. He's alive, and apparently in hell, so his continued suffering seems appropriate.

This place isn't anything like the hell promised by a childhood of religious education. There's no fire; no brimstone; none of the gore and agony suggested by his educators. He's standing in a queue with a numbered ticked clutched in a bloodied hand. It's ridiculous. It's the sort of thing that should make one wonder am I really in hell? But Rorschach often finds that the things most people - most 'rational' people - find unbelievable are usually true. Who, after all, would have suspected Veidt of being capable of murdering millions of people? Daniel had floundered in disbelief. He hadn't. As far as he was concerned, it was fitting: the man always had been a self-obsessed megalomaniac, prostituting himself to the world for money and fame. Of course he would fancy himself the saviour of mankind.

If this really is hell, he'll show up here too, undoubtedly. And Rorschach suddenly finds himself believing it wholeheartedly, hungrily. He'll find Veidt and he'll spill him against the filthy ground for every man, woman and child he murdered. Perhaps he can put off oblivion for now, just until he finds Veidt so he can drag the man down into the dark with him.

He can't stand waiting in line any longer, so he pushes out of the group and fights his way to the end, ignoring the woman and strange creatures (demons? They're looking a little more biblical) that try to flag him down. One of them barely manages to shove a pamphlet, a list of his 'sins', and some sort of strange, rectangular device into his hands before he goes storming down a winding set of stairs and into a... hotel lobby, of all things. The person - thing - manning the front desk informs him that he's been assigned accommodation, but he ignores it and heads deeper into the hotel, peeling through the pamphlet he'd been given as he walks fast and agitated through halls.

Veiled Order. Drugging. Cannibalism. Lucifer. Kidnapping. Upon reaching the end of the pamphlet, he folds it and shoves it into a coat pocket. It's not nearly detailed enough. If he wants to understand this place, get his footing in it, he'll need more. He'll need to question people. The idea brings him some measure of relief, because information gathering is familiar, comforting, and he has a lot of frustration to expend. There's still cold buried deep in his bones.

So he walks the hotel hallways slower, sweeping his eyes over the residents he passes until he finds himself alone with one of them. A man. Someone who looks comfortable here, well-integrated. Deserving of his ire. It's hell; he's not worried about harming an innocent (and he's aware he himself isn't one).

He proceeds to step in their path. He won't jump just yet; he wants to see how they'll react to being accosted first.]

Have questions. Suggest you listen quietly and answer quickly.

Food

[It takes him three days to decide the food offered by the hotel is safe to consume. He watched a few people eat at the dining hall and observed them throughout the day to make sure they don't suffer any ill effects. After the third day, he's ravenous, but confident the food from the dining hall won't bring him any harm, so he shuffles in and dumps the contents of some kind of stew they're serving into a mess tin he'd managed to dig out of the duty free shop. Much of it ends up on the table.

Then he leaves, heading into the nearby stairwell to sit himself on a middle step and hitch up the latex of his face. He eats fast, wolfing his food down with all the eagerness of a man that... well, starved himself for three days, and he barely tastes it between swallows, but the warmth and fullness that envelops him more than makes up for that. Even without pausing to appreciate the taste, it's still the best thing he's eaten in years. It's warm and filling, which is more than can be said for the vast majority of meals he's had. Unfortunately, he hasn't quite finished it all before he's interrupted, the door a few paces up swinging open. He swallows his mouthful and licks his lips, tugging his face back over his chin before eyeing his company in his peripheral.]

Perfectly functional elevator.

[Hopefully they'll turn back around instead of insisting on pushing past Rorschach. It's awkward enough to be sharing such a tight space with cockroaches without having to engage them while he's trying to do necessary daily rituals.]

There's Still Green All Around?

A) [After much people-watching, Rorschach has concluded that the plants puffing out black pollen make people chatty. The rest, well... Rorschach doesn't want to think about what the rest do, but that black pollen has potential. He pilfers a knife and zip-lock bags from the kitchen and heads carefully into Mammon park, kneeling down before a cluster of flowers spewing black pollen. Moving as fast as he can, he cuts away the bulbs and shoves them into the bags, and he doesn't resume breathing until he's risen and walked several feet away from the flowerbed.

He'll dry them and grind them down. They might come in handy in the future.]

B) [While walking carefully around Mammon park, he notices someone wander into a cloud of pollen and glances over, the dark, ever-shifting rorschach patterns that compromise his face swirling into something vaguely curious. He's seen what the pollen does to people, but not up close.]

The First Pull is the Hardest

[He manages to avoid the room the first, second and third time, breaking a few bones in the process. The forth time, he doesn't remember how he got there, jerking awake with a grunt and flying to his feet, sending the chair he'd been seated upon clattering to the floor in the process. There's someone sitting across from him, and for a moment he looks very much like he's about to grab the blade on his side of the table and plunge it into their throat-

But then Lucifer speaks and he listens, taking a moment to process his situation before abandoning whoever he's been thrown into the room with to kneel before the door and use his lock picking set on it. He makes sure his back isn't to his company as he works, and he keeps one eye on them, like he's expecting them to attack him.

The fact his list is on display doesn't seem to bother him at all. Murder, misanthropy, cruelty, sexism, unwillingness to compromise- among others. He doesn't much care if people know these things about him. He's never made a secret of his beliefs and methods.]

Wildcard

[ooc; feel free to hit me up at plurk if there's something else you'd like to play out!]

Arrival

[minuteofangle]

[ Well. It's been a while since this has happened. Gabe doesn't like the hotel but he does his rounds every day so he has a sense of his environment. Control is control is control and things in Hell have a tendency to get squiggly. So he makes his rounds even if he cooks his own damn food - too many bad trips on the shit the demons hand out - and he pays attention. Runs every scan he can think of with his tech.

And when the newbies show up, he listens. Runs scans on them, listens for their voices. Always, always listening for his people. They're never there. But he checks because he has to, and then he wonders whether what he feels is relief or sorrow at what he finds.

This is new, though. Gabe's eyebrows go up. He's dressed in loose clothes, a jacket on over a button-up to conceal the pistol at the small of his back. And all the knives, of course. ]

You're a charmer, huh?

[ It comes out in a drawl, Gabe's stance deceptively loose. His tech says the man in front of him is small, lean. But the way he holds himself, oh, that's telling. That's a fighter.

And that makes this fun, doesn't it?

Gabe's eyes don't track at all. But he's usually loud enough to bluster past before anyone notices.

He bares his teeth in a grin. ]

You wanna try that again?

Esther Greenwood | The Bell Jar

[higginbottom]

Arrival

Well, Esther thinks, this isn't that much worse than the psych ward she's been trying so desperately to get out of. Or at least she tries to tell herself, her body shaking as her package of sins is handed to her. She has chills as she looks around at the other poor souls that are stuck with her. God, does she look as sad and pathetic as the rest of them? Esther's disturbed by the concept. She had thought she had been getting better...

She eventually walks into what looks like a hotel lobby. Finally, something normal! Besides, she feels alive, right? That's gotta count for something. She looks around, observing demons and humans alike walking about, seemingly keeping busy.

Maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe she can redeem herself, somehow. Esther takes a breath, tries not to slouch (despite the temptation to, given how tall she is for a young woman), and walks towards the nearest person she sees.

"Um, can you explain...this?" she asks, gesturing her hands in a sort of general what-the-hell-is-going-on movement, pun totally intended.

Reach Up High: Prompt II

So doing community service is not Esther Greenwood's idea of fun, especially if it involves picking up other people's trash from the park. How disgusting, she thinks to herself, the plastic gloves on her hand too big for her and falling off. They're practically useless, so she's tempted to ditch them in a trash can nearby, but she's seeing the crap people and demons leave behind here, and it's not quite the most sanitary.

Also, it would be great if she didn't have a demon following her around at a small distance, critiquing her cleaning-up skills. Lovely. Esther's almost tempted to turn around and give the demon a piece of her mind, but somehow she doesn't think that would go over too well.

Still, it's getting annoying. Really annoying. So annoying that she's started to notice that the demon isn't just criticizing her technique, but also her. Her hair. Her slightly awkward, too-tall frame. Oh, and somehow the demon knows about her hospital stay. Great.

"Can you please just leave me alone?" she says, finally, not turning to look at the demon. "I'm trying to get some work done."

Arrival

[savedbyasong]

The person she stops might look a bit demon-lite, with his red eyes, white hair, black horns poking through it and a thick scar that began on his face and twisted around his neck like a snake.

However his smile was bright and friendly and he looked around at the everything she was gesturing too.

"Did you just arrive? Don't worry it's all very overwhelming at first. I've been here a few years. What do you know already? We can start there."

Prince Lothric | Dark Souls

[cursedandcarried]

Stand Your Ground:

The younger prince had only just arrived in Hell, a place he was unsure was even real, considering what had become of the world he dwelled from, he could hardly imagine anything worse. Though, if truth be told this place was far worse, if only for one reason; the fact that it was missing his beloved older brother. The brother to whom Lothric shared his cursed soul, the brother who was his unyielding sword, his protector and companion.

Yes, Hell was real in the absence of Lorian.

As the caravans rolled in, Lothric's curiosity got the better of him. Using his magic was tiring but still, he clasped his hands together letting the glowing light envelop him before he vanished only to reappear in front of the caravan. Listening closely as others ahead of him put forth their wants and needs, Lothric gathered his thoughts as he waited for his turn. Once asked what it was he desired, the Prince asked, plainly and with purpose. "My dearest brother. Bring him to me. Let our twin souls be reunited here in this godforsaken land."

After signing the papers, the Demonic entities explained to the Prince that all he need do is summon his brother as he usually would, they reassured him that Lorian would appear exactly as Lothric last saw him. And so he did just that! Hands clasped once more as he knelt down on broken and useless legs, the hood of his shroud covering most of his face as he uttered out; "Rise, my brother if you would." With that said, the form of the older Prince, started to form on the floor, heat roaring from his soundless mouth, burning greatsword in hand as he crawled to meet his sibling.

It didn't take long, before everything started falling apart, however, quite literally. While dangling draped over his brother's shoulders. The older Prince's knees buckled, dropping them both to the ground in a heap. Wooden limbs attached with wire and string, a marionette, lifeless and dull. Useless. As if that wasn't bad enough, Lotric found that his own body had started to become hard and rigid. Moving his arms was difficult to articulate as he came to terms with the fact he had once again been cursed... Only this time, it was with the body of a puppet. "What cruel twist of fate is this, that I should become more useless than I already was?"

Reach Up High:Prompt I

"I have nothing to hide. Though, I would rather not have meaningless words engraved upon my flesh. If we must do this, I request that we make haste in doing so."

Lothric sat lounged, hunched over in the corner of the room, more fabric than a person really, swamped in the Giant swaddling he wore like a cloak. Bone-like fingers uncurling to point towards the table that held their scrolls.

"If you would, then please, pick your sin as I have picked mine."

Wildcard/Misc:
[ ooc: Feel free to hit me up with any starter you like! ]

Re: Prince Lothric | Dark Souls

[swordofzero]

Suzaku takes in the sight of the person sat in the corner of the room swaddled in a cloak. He just nodded at the words. He had nothing to hide either. Or at least there was no point in hiding, all was found out soon enough in hell.

He walked towards the table though honestly he doesn't need to look at his list. He knows what is on there. Or he thought he did. When he does look at it he sees there are some new ones.

All of them deserved. "Mass murder." He spoke quietly, not not hesitantly. "Do you wish to go first?"

Lucien 👁 Critical Role

[concentrated_dick]

Stand Your Ground:

Lucien wasn't so stupid as to believe these creatures could give you anything you asked for, not without some kind of dramatic payment in return. After all, he was in the business of dishing out boons and powers himself and he wouldn't simply ask for a slither of your soul, no. He'd want a much bigger slither.

So, as one of the Demonic beings slipped out of the back of the caravan to retrieve a trinket for a Sinner, Lucien clambered up into the front of the carriage, pulling the hood of his cloak over his horned head. He looked the part, didn't he? Bloodred eyes pointed ears and teeth, that forked tongue and tail to match. Yes indeed, Lucien could have been one of the mysterious travelers and that's exactly what he's pretending to be now.

"Tell me, friend. What is it you desire?" With a smirk and an extended hand, he waited to see what he could learn of his fellow Sinners by their requests, after all, there is power in knowledge, isn't here.

There's Still Green All Around?

Y'know, the flowers were alright, Lucien didn't really mind them, they were growing on him slowly the more he saw them (Especially those divine Hell Roses with the wandering eye! He really liked those ones!) So he'd been giving the gardens a wander, picking a few petals and leaves as he passed them, he'd seen both Wizards taking an interest in them earlier and so decided it might be worthwhile investigating them himself, even if they snapped or cried at him in the process, they were just plants!

He'd been out for a good few hours now, finding that the longer he dwelled in the sunrays, the more he enjoyed it. Cloak tossed aside and silk sleeves rolled up, the Nonagon looked almost innocnet as he smiled, inspecting a flower that he twirled gently between his fingers and thumb. You could blame his mood on the pollen in the air, the pollen that he'd been inhaling for hours, making him more agreeable and apparently less insufferable!

Reach Up High: Prompt I:
cw: cutting, blood, torture

"Now then, isn't this an interesting predicament they've placed us in?" The Lavander Tiefling said as he slowly strolled around the table that housed both scrolls. Picking up a blade that he balanced on the tip of a finger by the pointed end while snatching up another. Using the end, Lucien started to uncoil one of the scrolls, if it was his he'd impale it with the blade, discouraging anyone in the room from reading it, if it was yours he'd sly a look at it and snicker.

"Listen, you're not gonna be touching that, are we clear? I'm an old hat when it comes to this kinda game, I'm pretty sure I can last longer than you." As he refused to read and to carve the sins upon his flesh, Lucien started to bleed through his white silk shirt, shrugging it off in amusement. He's a Bloodhunter after all, most of his magic works when he slices his own flesh, this is going to be nothing to him... But what's it gonna be to you he wonders?

Follow Me Down:Prompt I:
cw: sex pollen, kinks, public displays

Having spent a lot of his time in the gardens, Lucien had been coated in a layer of that purple dust. Unfortunately for him, the Tiefling was a pretty purple shade already, so the presence of the dust went seemingly unnoticed. He was a hot-blooded creature by nature, so the heat in his veins hardly seem unusual, the fast-growing arousal he felt brewing, however, now that was something he wasn't used to.

It was awkward and uncomfortable, especially when it came to the fact that his attire was more or less skin tight. It's hard to hide excitement when your trousers look like they've been painted on don't you know. And here, Lucien didn't seem to mind that people could see. In fact, the Bloodhunter smirked as he lollygagged around, shamelessly eyeing people up as they passed, carelessly tossing them a flirtatious wink or kiss, waving at them with that long, flexible tail of his.

Wildcard:
[ ooc: Lucien is already in-game, so feel free to reply with any in-game going on's here! Also, if you have another prompt you want to toss at him, go for it! ]

Stand Your Ground

[gravity_fissure]

There was nothing more that Essek wanted to do other than return to the hotel suite and read. Today had been trying, and the hopeful quiet of a bath and book seemed far more appealing than the idea of these new souls coming and being subjected to their same fate.

With new souls was always some new trick, tragedy, or embarrassment. He had hoped to avoid it this month.

Essek had been ready to move by whatever this cart was when he caught a flash of purple from the corner of his eyes. There was a curious glance, assuming it was Mollymauk doing something so risky, something he would talk to him about when they returned home, but no. No. He could see the difference.

“I desire you to get down and stop lying to these people,” he said from what he assumed was a safe distance away. Hopefully a few sinners would hear him and move back from what was clearly and sham layered on top of an already existing sham.

“What are you doing?”

Henry Sturges | Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter

[whichisit]

Reach Up High

Blood Play, Vamperism, Knife Play, Possible mention of under age issues, content issues, murder of a child

Cut So Deep:
Henry tries the door even though there is no real point to it, he knows it won't open, but he still tries; he looks at the wall of knives and wonders who will be shoved in with him this time, He and Leonard had tried to make quick work of it for each other, but Leonard was gone, to home Henry hopes.

He picks up one of the knives and rolls the handle between his hands, looking at his list, Edeva, Abraham, Virginia. The only one he felt true shame and guilt over was Virginia; it was a mistake, it was a sin, it didn't matter how young of a vampire he was at the time; he lost control; it was a monstrous act.

Follow Me Down

Dub-Con, Non-Con, Blood Play, Vamperism, Public Sex, Voyerism

I get a hay fever that's so hard to bear. You give me fever.

Henry thought he was clear of the purple pollen, his mind finally clear. He fell to lust enough on his own here, but it seems to be spreading past the garden.

He's not surprised. Not in the least, when the need and drive start to wash over him again.

I. Henry wanders into the bar, getting his usual, the predator in him starting to bubble to the surface along with the arousal. He watches the crowd from the booth he is slumped into. As he takes a long drag from the hookah, letting the smoke drift from his mouth, he squeezes his erection through his pants, Looking for anyone he can pull into the dark corner with him.

II. Henry staggers back toward the garden in his haze of arousal and doesn't heed his advice from the last time he was here, and strays a little too far from the path. At first, he's unaware of the vines creeping toward him

He ends up wrists bound in thorny vines above his head, suspending him from a thick branch, the vines slowly stripping his clothes away. The vines wrap around his thighs to secure him further, teasing him and keeping him almost painfully in need. So drugged, he barely puts up a fight and would be pliable to anyone who comes across him.

Just another night at the bar: Pollen free

Henry moves through the bar looking at the new faces, wondering where and why they were pulled here, would they look for redemption, would they sin further, or would they waver on the line like he has, succumbing to some of their wants and desires.

He sits at the bar tonight ordering a bottle of red, so to speak, and pouring himself a hefty glass. His body language is open and welcoming for conversation.

Wild Card:
Want something not here go for it, want to check with me first : Plurk:Fuck_Mars hit me up!

Cut So Deep | lmk if you want any specific sin to perk conversation?

[endofcompliance]

It has been a while since Bucky was stuck in this particular situation. Not long after Henry has already tried to open it, Bucky is thrown in. He knows better, but it never stops him from also trying the door. When it refuses to budge, he gives it a swift punch with his vibranium arm.

One goes through his hair and he finally looks to find his partner, as well as his list.

"...Henry? Great." Henry was one of the last people he wants to see in there, because he hates the idea of having to hurt him.

Diana Prince | DCEU | OTA

[amazonfresh]

Stand Your Ground

The trader's caravan is a curiosity. Diana falls victim to hers, drawn in to investigate the strange wares. She doesn't really know what she's looking for or what she wants, but the items are fascinating. Potions for good dreams. Maps to treasures. Keys home.

It seems too good to be true, and yet...

It would be lovely to believe for a moment.

Not for herself, but it is tempting to think of what she could get for others. Books or rare food, technology.

She picks up a scroll, turning it over curiously as she tries to determine just what it is, waiting for one of the goblin men to finish with their other customers. She even tries to peer inside without opening it.

"Do you think it's real?"


Reach Up High II

Diana would have helped out around the hotel without the offer of having a sin removed. While it might not be consensual, she does live here too and benefit from things being clean and in good repair; Diana is fine with being asked to pull her weight.

That willingness is tested by a withered little goblin who provides a constant stream of chattering criticism. She's not dusting high enough. Now she's dusting too high. No, she's supposed to clean the dust, not the spiderwebs! Where are the poor spiders supposed to sleep now?

"Outside, hopefully," Diana says in exasperation. "Who leaves the cobwebs behind when they're cleaning?"


Wildcard

[If you want something else, I'm game.]

Stand Your Ground;

[ronchronchronch]

Rorschach has been watching her for a while now, ever since he heard someone address her as 'Diana', and she seems normal enough, despite potentially being associated with that Monika girl. When she steps up to the caravan, he finally approaches, drawing close enough for a conversation. And that's all this will be, ideally.

"No."

There's that phrase 'too good to be true', and this stinks of it. He picks up a potion claiming to allow you to see into the future and turns it over in his purple-gloved hand, then proceeds to toss it aside- one of the goblins barely manages to catch it before it goes shattering upon the ground. Cradling the bottle to its chest, it casts him a beady glare, which Rorschach ignores.

"Fit every cliche of seedy salesman. Almost comical."

andrea quill ► class

[vrituom]

// stand your ground

You have to be insane.

( except she can actually see the sound sales strategy that they're going with -- humans are stupid and probably would sell a piece of their soul if they were desperate enough which... judging by how many have started walking away happy seems to be many )

Whilst most of these people might be stupid enough to agree... someone wanting your soul isn't doing it for good reasons. So what are you hiding?

( though quill doesn't get any answer, just more sales pitch or pushed out of the way by someone else gone to be a victim )

Hey!

// the first pull is the hardest

( knives would normally be a welcome sight to her but with the list of sins appearing (and that makes her angry enough, what she did wasn't a sin!) and the other person with her-- )

Hey!

( it's yelled at the air, the hope or expectation that the voice is still listening there )

I might like a good fight as much as anyone but this guy-- ( with a look to the buddy in the room with her it was definitely a derogatory intention to that. even if... you probably look like you could fight.

partly it's to get a reaction, partly because even if quill was inclined to pick up that knife she wouldn't be able to use it. at least not on the other person for their sin -- could she carve into herself? )

Stand Your Ground

[gravity_fissure]

[Essek had planned to avoid the entire thing; events like these seemed far more work than they were worth, lies encased in beautiful hopes. He didn’t have the time nor will to envelop himself in such a sale, and was content to move past until he heard someone yelling.

He should go and return to the hotel. He should not be involved.

But instead, he floated over, the ends of his cloak fluttering inconspicuously against the ground. She wasn’t wrong, but…]

Souls almost feel like basic currency here, although I’m not sure that is comforting to you.

[His eyes regarded her carefully.]

You are new, I presume?

Nebula | Marvel Cinematic Universe

[bluecircuit]

There's Still Green All Around?

[This is all utterly absurd. Heaven, Hell, and Demons... she's still not convinced this is some kind of trick. She's so many enemies it's not outside the realm of possibility that someone's tricking her for a laugh. So, when the ice cream vendor passes her a cone, she eyes the vanilla and chocolate swirled dessert like it might try and eat her instead of the other way around.

The park is filled with the sounds of music and celebration that seem in complete contrast to the fact that they are all trapped here. She keeps walking, eying the ice cream that's now starting to melt a bit down the cone. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to at least try it? Tentatively, she moves in to give it a lick. The sweet chilled creamy concoction sparks the cyborg's senses and her eyes go wide. It's good!

She doesn't take a second lick this time. Instead, she takes a big bite. As she swallows, she learns her mistake. Her head-splitting and cybernetics buzzing, she grabs her forehead and hisses.] I knew this was some foul trick!

[It seems Nebula isn't going to be made senseless by some pollen just yet. No. Instead, she's going to be done in by brain freeze.]


The First Pull is the Hardest

[Torture. This is far too familiar to her, eyes darting around the room. Her cybernetic hand draws across the knives and settles finally on a stack of paper. Her list of sins. It's substantial.

Murder, Torture, Envy, Wrath, Pride, Genocide...

Her finger stills on that last, fighting the urge to crumple the paper in her fist. She knows it will do no good. Her eyes dart back to her companion once the audio stops. She grabs a knife and is already advancing on them.] Let's get this over with.


Sex Pollen/ network |un:bluemeanie | video
[[ooc: up for both m/f and f/f, 18+, cw: dub-con, smutty scenarios, etc.]]

[The feed starts with an image of a blue and purple woman, her head and shoulders in frame. Whatever she might be it doesn't appear to be human. Or entirely organic, metallic pieces covering her face and other parts that move into the frame as the video wobbles.

Whatever is going on, she looks quite distressed, jaw clenched. It seems from the background that she's in what's presumably her own hotel room.] Whoever's done this... you'll pay for it.

[Her next words come out as an obscene moan mixed with the odd mechanical tinge of her voice. The camera is shaky and she seems to be doing something out of sight of the camera, one arm held down in the direction of her legs.]

Also, I require assistance. If someone could join me in my room. Immediately. [Nebula, asking for help? She must be very desperate!]

The First Pull is the Hardest

[laserbaby]

[Whatever the fuck this is, Homelander has no intention of playing along. He hates Lucifer's stupid voice, hates being trapped in a room, hates whatever condescending lesson this is supposed to teach him.

The angry blue cyborg seems far too eager to get with the program for his liking. He sneers as she advances on him, red heat flashing in his eyes.]

Back off, or I shave that arm off.

[badnewstravelsfast]

Arrival

The nightmare came before. Pain beyond imagining. Pain from every at once. Seemingly sourceless. Pain that he knew would eventually end, not out of any grace or relief, but because there would be nothing left to feel it. Pain made worse still in the knowledge that this was what he deserved. This was the price he'd paid for the lives he took, for deals made in grief. Among the screaming pain, he felt more than heard a voice, the words "it's yours" clearer than anything in the darkness. Then for the briefest moment he thought he saw light, almost blinding through swirling smoke, as brief as a flash from his weapon. And in that moment, the pain was gone.

Too fast to fully register, the world was dark again. The pain returned. No, this pain was different. This pain had a direction, a source. Fire. Hands on his form as if he had skin once more. Something had changed. This wasn't where he was supposed to be. But the lesser pain allowed him to actually think. That light. He knew that light. Pike. He started trying to pull himself free of the grasping hands. Fighting, clawing, desperately dragging himself toward an escape he couldn't see. Until fingers dragged his head back, more grabbing his face. "VEX!" he managed to cry out before he felt swallowed by the grasping appendages. Even as he felt his bones might break.

How long he fought was impossible to say. It felt like days. He didn't give in, but eventually he lost the strength to fight. Even then he kept pushing, shaking as he struggled to pull against the hands. Until he finally went limp, teetering on the brink of passing out. And the next thing he knew he was swaying on his feet in a stone corridor, his hand a head hurting more than anything else.

Dazed, he moved through the line, trying to make sense of it all. He barely registered the woman who healed his hand, somehow managing to mutter "I've had worse..." to her apology. Items ended up in his hands at some point and the next thing he knew he was standing in a lavishly decorated space that was beyond even his understanding. But there was a man at a desk, and a man at a desk was always a good place to start. And when Percy just wanted to know of a place where he could rest and get his bearings, that man the desk was the perfect person to ask.

Room key in hand, Percy managed to make his way to the one he'd been given. This place had more rooms than even some castles. What sort of place was this? The room at least resembled a room at an inn well enough. In fact, it seemed cleaner than some he'd stayed in before. That is, until he saw what was sitting on the bed. A six barrelled pistol he'd built with his own hands. That he'd last seen falling into a vat of acid. He froze, stomach twisting into knots. Out of instinct, a hand reached up to his earlobe, fingers trembling.

"I don't know if...." but the events leading up to his arrival came crashing down. "Fuck." The last word coming out louder than intended, not breaking his connection to the earring. Because no one could hear him. He'd not asked where he was because he knew. In his heart of hearts he knew exactly where he'd ended up.

Follow Me Down II

For as much as Percy accepted where he was and why he was here, there was a lot he wasn't prepared to face. That meant finding a drink. But Percy being Percy meant he couldn't just relax. Before he even finished his first drink, he pulled his notebook out and started flipping through the pages until he found an empty space. And there he started sketching out...a box. More specifically a hinged containment case. The area around the sketches started filling up with notes as he tried to puzzle out what materials might be best. Most ideas were scratched out as soon as he wrote them down, as he grew increasingly frustrated. Until he just angrily wrote out "Just get some bloody acid."

He'd been about to just rip out the whole page when his stomach decided to register a complaint and he had to stop completely. That's when he realized not just how much he'd been drinking, but idly eating as he sketched. The pages were dusted with crumbs and dotted with stains, the remains scattered around the notebook like a protective wall. He felt sick, well beyond even what such indulgence should bring.

Very carefully, shook the bits of food off the paper and put it back inside his coat. Then with even more care, he got to his feet. The world only swayed slightly. As he moved toward the door, he thought he was in the clear. He needed to be more careful. He needed to remember where he was. The dangers here weren't merely physical. They weren't even mentally damaging. They were more insidious than that. Even as he ran over these warnings to himself, he found himself stopping to watch a group of people playing some manner of card game. He held tighter to his warnings, knowing his own penchant for bad decisions, as he watched the movement of the cards. As someone walked by, approached for their attention.

"Pardon me, but could you tell me what it is they're playing?" He motioned at the group all with a few cards face down in front of them on the table, the dealer asking each in turn if they'd like to hit or stay.

Network || Voice

[ He very much sounds like he's talking to himself. ]

--intriguing device. It is not of a solid piece, made of multiple materials. If I had my tools, it would be interesting to see if I could open it. There would be no worry of breaking any enchantment. Despite appearances, I do not believe it functions through magic. A touch of a sigil is al that it takes, with no intention required. It even holds a history of all--oh. It seems I've activated something.

[ A moment of silence ]

Ah, there we--

[ He found the right button because it cut off there ]

Wildcard

[ Throw anything at me, or drop me a line via PM ]

[greedbowstome]

Kaz's first stop when he gets back from that trip– he got nothing Lucifer was looking for, but that was never his intention anyway– is the bar. It's part-celebratory for getting a knife in one of the members of The Veiled Order, part 'goddamn, I need a drink'.

He leans heavier on his cane than usual, the terrain on the way to and back from the Veiled Order temple was rough, to say the least, and it has done his injured leg no favors. He pauses when someone seems to be addressing him, glancing up at the older man, then toward the table where the card game is being played. Finally, his gaze lands back on the other man and he can't help wondering if he suffers the same insatiable wagering problem that Jesper does.

"Not sure, it's no Three Man's Bramble, but whatever it is, I don't doubt they're playing for bits of their soul instead of coin." While he is strictly not religious, he has avoided risking anything of that particular nature while he's been here. Whether it's real or valid at home is a different story, but here souls are very indeed real, and valuable, far more than any currency, and he's already been gifted fangs he's just starting to get used to being in his mouth since the events of the Hellburbia nightmare, he would rather avoid getting something else for his troubles.

Spider-Man/Peter Parker | Marvel 616

[the_amazing]

Stand Your Ground

The merchants were something new. Peter had never seen the demons selling rare items like these before, and when he perused their wares, he was amazed at how no two items were alike. Where could they have gotten all these things, if not by magic?

One of the merchants asked if he was looking for anything in particular, but Peter couldn't come up with an answer. There was no physical item that could give him what he really wanted. When he told them that, the merchant laughed and said enchanted items could give you the intangible as well.

So Peter took a risk and told them what was on his mind. He wanted to know if his loved ones back home were doing all right. The merchant clicked his tongue, held up a finger, and then went to rummage around in a back cabinet. When he returned, he was holding a hand mirror with an intricate design on the back. "Simply speak their names," he instructed Peter. "And you will see what you desire."

He signs for the item, not entirely knowing what he's giving away, and takes the mirror to experiment. But upon asking for the first name, he finds the mirror is not as advertised. Instead, he's hypnotized, staring at his own reflection for hours, unable to tear his eyes away. Others may see him sitting off in a corner somewhere, engrossed in the mirror, but he can't break free without help.

Wildcard!

[Up for anything! Peter has two Hell-changes so far, a black symbiote stain on his shoulder and sharp pointy teeth, so if you haven't seen him in a while, you might notice. PM me or hit me up on Plurk/Discord for other ideas.]

Richard Campbell Gansey III | The Raven Cycle

[forwardmotion]

OOC

Note

loyalwolf[#3540] on plurk[/discord] for something specific!

I. arrival

OTA

Gansey knew he would die, there was no other option at this point. It was impossible, there was no way out. His time was up.

Gansey did not know he would find himself in Hell when it was over.

Surely, there had been some mistake. He was not always the best person, he certainly had his moments of acting selfishly and made comments that were rude without really meaning to, but was any of that really worthy of Hell? He certainly didn't think so.

He blinks his confusion, but, always a peruser of information, takes the pamphlet and moves along. He wanders until he finds a spot in the lobby to sit and read the leaflet. You might here a surprised mutter here and there. An aghast, "Drugged!", confused, "Hellburbia?" or nearly reverent, "...Cabeswater?"

The whole thing leaves his head spinning. He isn't sure where to start with processing any of this, but he will certainly be keeping this little pamphlet.

ii. stand your ground

OTA

Gansey is, among many other things, curious, which is exactly why he's found himself wandering up to the strange goblin-y vendors to poke and prod in what they seem to be offering.

He looks, he touches, but oh, he does not buy. He asks how much the well-worn leather-bound notebook he's found will cost, already reaching for his wallet– money has never been a Gansey problem.

"Just a bit of your soul, sonny boy," the vendor says it casual-like, like it isn't a completely absurd thing to ask for or expect.

Gansey pauses in taking his wallet from his pocket and immediately puts it back and gives the goblin a very brusque, "Absolutely not," before turning away.

He'll just be warning anyone he sees heading toward the caravan that, "Nothing they have will ever be worth your soul." Please. He implores you. Do not give such an important part of yourself for petty material desires.

iii. network » text» @ safeaslife

OTA

To whom it may concern,

It is with an unfortunate turn of circumstance I must bring to your attention the axiomatic inaccuracy in your paperwork. My name is Richard Gansey III and I can assure you, though I am not without my own misgivings and failures, I am certain that I do not belong in Hell.

Thank you for your time,
-Gansey

[Does he realize this is futile? Absolutely. Does he actually think "management" is going to see or respond to it? Not in the least. But it's a helluva an ice breaker, isn't it?]

iii; un: anightmare

[mitsubishievo]

oh fuck off

Sam Winchester | SPN |OTA (will match style)

[moosey]

Stand Your Ground | OTA

(Sam let out a breath as he watched the goings on in the market. Back home, he had been to hell and back, in the literal sense, so he felt like he had a general sense of how things worked here. He was unfortunately, most decidedly wrong.

He knew better than to trust what his eyes were seeing in front of him. Books filled with Lore. He could research to his heart's content. )

What's the Catch? I know there is one. There as to be.

Inej Ghafa (CRAU) | Grishaverse (books) | OTA

[tricktofalling]

1. Arrival
Sleeping becomes dreaming, becomes horror. She has had nightmares off and on for years, but this is a new one. She knows, she can feel, that it must only be a dream--but, at the same time, it feels real. Real heat, real pain, real concern when she joins a queue, receives a scroll signed in blood, and is loosed into a foyer.

There's something familiar about this place. She can't quite place it. Deja vu, certainly, and nothing that need concern her at the moment. Instead, she tucks the scroll away and looks around.

"Excuse me," she says, feeling someone nearby but not yet looking up as she settles her things and smooths out her clothing. "Can you tell me where I actually am?"


2. The First Pull
She doesn't want to be in here. There doesn't seem to be anything for it. Despite knowing that her own scroll of signs is held safely on her person, a copy lays on the table beside someone else's.

She looks at the knives on the table as well, and frowns, looking over at her fellow captured person.

"If it's all the same to you," she says softly and quietly, "I'd prefer to use my own and not the ones here. Who knows where these have been."


3. Wildcard
[Inej comes from a sweet SOL game where she's been for five and a half years - she's fully grown and a little more filled out than in canon. Feel free to assume she's around for any of the prompts, and go ahead and tag her with whatever~]

2. The First Pull

[zunge]

The other person glowers her way before making a beeline for the table to snap up a scroll. He peels it open to check whether it's his, then furls it back up upon confirmation.

Has Inej ever seen anyone with this many piercings? Probably not. The blond sighs in annoyance. "Makes no difference to me." He turns to narrow his eyes, tone composed with an air of detachment. "But they better be on you right now. Don't waste my time." Take too long to start, and the cuts will start to appear. A lot of cuts.

It makes no difference in the end, for reasons she won't suspect. It's because this type of torture session will allow him to feel the pain of his injuries, so he wins regardless of whether he cooperates or refuses to participate.

Angel, The Lone Wanderer || Fallout 3 || F/M for anything Spicy, OTA for gen

[wasteland_101]

There's Still Green All Around?

Angel found it amusing that she had been sent to hell after everything that she had done. Sure, she had killed plenty of people, but it was either her or them and she wasn't going to let it be her. She had also broken into a lot of places. She didn't really mind that much though. She didn't know where she would be going after dying, but since she had managed to take care of the Enclave, she was fine with being in hell. She could handle herself. The last year or so had proven that. She found herself wandering around, looking at the various plants and even engaging in a failed staring contest with a hell rose.

She sat in the back of some of the music shows, interested but cautious. She didn't know anyone here and she didn't really trust anyone yet. So she just sat and listened to the music. During a break she got up and started wandering around the flowers. She coughed a bit as she accidentally stepped through a cloud of pink pollen. She waved a hand in front of her face as she did her best to move out of the cloud.

"Should have expected that..." she muttered to herself before covering a sneeze. "Not used to this kind of stuff..."


Follow Me Down - Part 1 - CW: Dubcon/Public Displays

Angel actually thougth that the Hell Roses were kind of interesting, that was until she got a face full of that purple dust. Plants with eyes didn't seem that odd to her, she had met a talking tree before. Thinking back about that, the tree used to be a Ghoul. Technicalities. She could think about that more later. She had a few more pressing matters to take care of. Like how her body seemed to be burning up and she needed someone now. This wasn't the first time she had gotten rather hot and bothered, but this was the first time she had felt it so intensly.

She pulled off the upper part of her vault suit, tying it around her waist. She had on a tattered tank top underneith, so she wasn't just naked from the waist up. While she might want to be, she did have a little bit of modisty. She didn't really care who saw the scars on her arms and upper body. She had a lot of them. Some were from knife fights, there were a couple of laser burns, and a gunshot near her shoulder. She had a lot more claw marks than anything else on her arms and upper body. From behind glimpses of 3 large and long claw marks could be seen across her back.

She did her best to ignore the people around her as she wandered aimlessly in search of a more...private area to take care of her needs. She froze when she felt something slithering up her leg. Of course that was the wrong thing to do and before she could realize it, her arms were behing held behind her back and something was rubbing between her legs outside of her vault suit. She bit back a soft moan as another tentacle slid up her tank top and began to fondle her breasts. "S-shit. Fuck."

She swore as she pulled at her hands. She didn't want this to continue, but she also needed the release. "H-help!" She called out, her voice cracking as she tried to see if there was anyone around that could lend her a hand.


Follow Me Down - Part 2 - CW: Drinking


Angel was pointedly ignoring everyone that she could. After dealing with the flowers earlier the last thing she wanted to be was noticed. She ignored the drugs, but puased for a moment to stare at some of the more familiar things she had seen before. Shaking her head she went to the bar and got a shot of something. Anything. She didn't want to think about what she had done. She slammed the shot glass back onto the bar and ordered another, downing it just as quickly as the first. Her third drink was something just as hard, but she didn't down it as quickly as she had the shots. She didn't know what she had been given, but she really didn't care.

She glanced around at the games that some were playing and shrugged a bit. She could try her luck, but she didn't care. She just wanted to forget right now.

Billy Butcher | The Boys | ota

[alotmorehorrible]

It's Just Seasonal

Fuck all the fucking pollen.

Butcher's been on the money shot end of things with these plants a few too many times for his liking by now. The annoyance is instantaneous but not at all long lasting as he wipes the yellow pollen off his face. It seems to be doing the trick at getting him to relax a bit and he doesn't even really realize it when that perpetual weight and tension it seems he carries on his shoulders seems to lessen and... well, disappear.

He hasn't felt happy in so goddamn long, he almost doesn't realize the little bounce in his step, the fact that he's not itching to break in the skull of some cunt demon who mouths something off on his way about the little community.

Nah, everything feels too good to get wrapped up in that sort of nonsense for once... at least before a drink.

And he seems to be making a detour right for the hotel bar at the moment.

Reach Up High II

"Listen, you cunt-- you wanna come here and fucking say that shite again?" He's not scrubbing a fucking oven with brillo and ten kinds of fucking cleaner and scraping out what might be burnt in baby for his fucking health here and whatever good mood the pollen instilled in him has long since run its course. Now he's just dirty, hot, and wondering how this bloke might like his head shoved in the oven on full fucking blast.

"You think you can do better? Right then, come and show me."

Wildcard

Want to do something else? Leave a prompt or hit me up!

Reach Up High II

[failed_antichrist]

"Fine, Asshole!" Setsuna might not have been noticeable before, kind of small next to the kitchen demons, but he made sure to be loud in critiquing Butcher's work. Once called out on it, his wings fluffed up he leaps forward.

"Move over!" He reaches for the brillo, ready to yank it away. "You're gonna take all day like this!"

Yelena Belova | MCU

[laviny]

Green All Around

[After all the Hellburbia chaos and fallout Yelena has been spending time laying low and taking it easy. Insofar as one can take it easy in Hell, anyway. Eventually she decides to check Mammon Park, curious and a little suspicious. She decides to ignore the creepy flowers in favor of approaching the ice cream demon.

After all, she has an extra mouth to feed now. At some point over the course of the month she has acquired a pet dragon. She takes a seat on a bench holding two ice cream cones. One she is eating herself, and the other she is holding out to a small dragon with bright aqua colored scales. She has no idea if dragons are into ice cream, but she’s going to find out.]

Reach Up High

[Yelena has decided to make an attempt to be helpful and try to make some food for the local demons. The decision was spurred by a lingering desire of hers to get better at making food in general. Real food, not just boxed Mac and Cheese. Why not take this opportunity to learn something?

She’s in the hotel kitchen trying to follow a recipe for a pork roast. The problem is that she wasn’t given a pork roast to work. She was given a cut of hell boar, which might be a kind of pork, but it is certainly not one she has any experience with.

She’s making an attempt to adjust the recipe when a demon comes in and starts heckling her. She makes a good show of ignoring it for about five minutes before she gets sick of it and whips around to hold a knife up to the demon's nose.]

If you don’t shut up right now, I swear to god, I will season this hell boar with your face.

Green All Around

[deaddrop]

I can't believe you haven't introduced me.

[Natasha deadpans at the sight of the dragon. While her tone is flat for effect, her expression is decidedly more bemused.

Is this really the time to be adopting pets?]

Is he new, or have you just been keeping secrets?

suehiro tetcho / bungo stray dogs

[suehiro]

[ arrival; tw: possible discussions of war and violence ]

[ he remembers his spine's impact with the concrete wall, how it was his luck that being different probably saved it from shattering under kenji's superstrength. tetcho's head is spinning when the woman takes his hand and erases the phantom aches of his fight, the feeling of hands clawing at his skin on the way down. the darkness and anxiety brought by it, he takes a deep breath and the care package before following the directions.

it must be shock that causes him to so obediently follow without asking questions. tetcho has always been good at orders, putting his trust in his partner, his comrades. there is no path to follow except straight ahead so tetcho does, still in a daze until he arrives at the hotel lobby. ]

Huh?

[ he glances down at the phone he's been given and the pamphlet. ]

I'm in Hell???

[ There's Still Green All Around? ]

[ tetcho is having a very intense staring contest with one of the hell roses because... it won't stop looking. is this even polite? he likes the little tiny ones that whimper and try to nip at his hands and fingers when he bends down to examine them, but the roses? nope, those look entirely too fleshy for comfort.

he has been engaged in a staring contest for a good hour now, feel free to call him out on his weirdness. or wait until he tries to back away without losing the staring contest. tetcho might just step into puffing distance of one of those plants throwing out a pink mist pollen.

good luck, he's a perfect gentleman to the point it probably gets annoying. ]

[ Reach Up High I, The First Pull is the Hardest; tw: blood, torture ]

[ carving a sin onto his skin is more acceptable than onto someone else. though he has so often thought of his path as righteous and just... being here is proof of him having lost his way.

while religion is not his forte— here is a man consumed with following orders for the benefit of society and justice... he can't deny the reality of this place. he feels uncomfortable beyond belief.

the hunting dogs are known for torturing information out of their prey but, out of all of them, tetcho is the one who prefers signed confessions and no coercion. he wishes to serve justice faithfully.

looking across at whoever poor soul is also stuck here with him, he finds a knot forming in his throat. please, please do not ask him to carve the sin onto your flesh.]

Is there no other way out?

[ wildcard! feel free to toss me a pm for anything you'd like! ]

reach up high

[ferrociously]

[Tachihara had been curious about those lists at first. In a room like this, paper stands out, and while the torture implements are definitely unsettling, he's used to the idea both from the Hunting Dogs and the mafia. It's not something he can afford to get hung up on. So he goes to read the lists, finding his own first, glancing over it. It takes him a second, and then --

He snatches it up, fast, keeping it out of sight.

His list is definitely the longer one. His sins range from lying, to theft, to murder, and everything else he's done while undercover in the mafia. He's not ashamed of any of that, though he still doesn't really want Tetcho, of all people, seeing it. No, the one he's hiding from him is all the way at the bottom: Betrayal. Defection.]

Doesn't seem like it, Tetcho-san.

[He probably deserved this punishment, but still. Tetcho definitely doesn't. He wants to take a look at Tetcho's list, but that seems like a sin in and of itself.]

Happy Hogan | MCU |OTA

[misterhappy]

Green all around

Happy was feeling antsy. He needed to get out of the hotel. He was used to far more daily activity than he was currently getting. He walked around the park, mostly observing. He was not one to stop and smell the roses, so he avoided the plants. He was, however, hungry, so he made a beeline for the ice cream man. Happy always did like ice cream, as anyone who looked at him could tell.

Happy was happy to wander around and listen to the music.

Mahaad | Yu-Gi-Oh! [ Manga ]

[mahaad]

this isn't the duat...

[ To say he was confused would be an understatement. Mahaad had assisted Atem and his vessel dispense the darkness that was overtaking the world but found himself not returning to the duat. The voice that had greeted him spoke of things that were not correct regarding the gods as well. He had attempted to ask various individuals that seemed to be in charge, but they did not seem to have anything for him but confusing pamphlets and a brief, healing interaction.

Mahaad had taken his question to anyone who would listen, his tone stern and focused. ]

I demand to speak with whomever is in charge. While I may respect the different philosophies of life, I shall not stand for this flagrant disrespect of the gods.

Now, if you would be so kind as to direct me to this so-called "God", I have much I'd like to discuss with them.

[ Mahaad doesn't seem to want to do anything other than that, but he can be occasionally looking around crowds for someone. He doesn't seem to say who it is; it could be Lucifer, or his tiny pharoah, but he only seems focused on repeating his earlier statement at this time.

Good Luck to anyone who approaches him. ]

he's just a little magician!

[ Once he was able to figure out exactly what was going on, Mahaad moved on to investigating the area. Naturally, it does lead him to the caravan, which he found rather interesting. Picking up a card, he had looked at it with a thoughtful expression before questioning the shopkeeper. ]

This is not enough to house someone's Ka. How is such a small piece of paper able to do so? What sort of sorcery is this?

[ The shopkeeper looks a little confused but Mahaad continued to press. However, when the shopkeeper mentions the price, Mahaad places it back down. ]

I apologize, but that is incorrect. A soul cannot be so easily torn apart.

[ He begins to lecture anyone who'll listen about the aspects of a soul without much regard for their time. His tone is less demanding-- more that of an educator.

You could stop him or you could learn something! ]

wildcard;

This is the first time I'm playing Mahaad, so I'm trying to voice test!! His permissions post is right hereand if you want to plan something, please let me know at discord: carls#2152!

this is definitely not the duat

[holeinwall]

Er...

[ Monika squints with a frown. Here she was, minding her own business, trying to go get something to eat...and this weirdo shows up. Honestly, they need to give these new arrivals some more info. Or at least something to make them stand out better! Special shirts, maybe?

But she shouldn't be mean, because this whole "welcome to Hell" thing can be pretty traumatizing, so... ]

Have you tried saying a prayer?

[ Ahh, she's such a hoot. Imagine God answering prayers! ]

Ahaha, just kidding! But maybe you should set your sights just a tiny bit lower there, big guy. Things don't really work like that here.