TEST DRIVE MEME #38

[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

Curiously, every television within Hell seems to be covered with a sheet and wrapped in chains. If one listens closely at night, they'll hear murmuring coming from them. If any curious newcomer should try to remove the coverings, they will find them magically enchanted in some way that makes this impossible, however. If asked, the staff will explain that they're undergoing a cleansing to remove a curse placed upon them by evildoers. If pressed further, they'll hear talks of The Veiled Order.

But not to worry! There's plenty to do. Helluvacup needs to be rebuilt so the coffee demon and his prized hell rat on a harness and leash quit wandering the halls... the staff is rather tired of being bitten! Additionally, it feels like reality is shifting more often to showing what the pristine hotel may actually look like. It hasn't been that long since the buildings were flooded by lava and utterly destroyed. The beautiful interiors were too good to be true, and the veneer is cracking more severely now. At times, the illusion drops to the burnt out husk of a building, to rotting wood and torn, old furniture. Sometimes it's jarring enough to leave one dizzy before it simply flashes back to normal. Unfortunately, whenever these glitches occur, it is entirely possible to find one's self in an entirely different room than they meant. Wanted to grab a midnight snack? Have fun in that blood room. Wanted to take an innocent pee, minding your own business? You may accidentally walk into someone's room.

In which case, it is probably very advisable to not relieve yourself and find a more suitable area. What could possibly go wrong?

At least there does seem to be a break in the heat? Hell is an almost comfortable temperature, but there are already talks of the dreaded Fall coming soon. In Hell, Fall tends to feel more like the dead of winter, bt hopefully, there will be a skip to the usual snow and frigid temperatures.

.


Reach Up High

Prompt I:

WARNINGS: drills, torture, blood, lobotomy

Part of redemption is suffering, Darlings. That’s why sinners are drawn here. They will hurt, but they will also learn to become better people. One way or another.

The demons who bring sinners here have tied them quite firmly into a contraption that forces them to recline back with their heads trapped in a vice. If they look up, they’ll be able to see the whirring flash of metal from an active drill poised just overhead. They can squirm if they’d like, but it might be unsettling for the person bound behind them. Before they can vocalize any questions, they’ll hear the sound of Lucifer’s warm, soothing voice.

"My dear guests, I’ve done a lot of thinking about what I can do to bring you closer together. Father often says that humans should love their fellow man. Maybe you just need some help building trust. I assure you that you’re both perfectly safe. If you stay still and chat, the drills will cause a little scratch, but nothing you can’t live through. Talk about your sins. Talk about your day. It’ll just take a few minutes before you can leave. Be nice, and whatever you do, don’t move a muscle."

It’s at this point that sinners might notice that although they are rendered immobile from the waist up, their legs are free. They can push back their chairs and avoid the drills which are suddenly moving forward. But since they’re bound to someone else, pushing back will send their partner forward into their drill and surely condemn them to a messy death. If neither sinner moves, they can both survive. The drills will move close enough to tear the skin at their foreheads and perhaps scratch the skull underneath, creating a mild concussion at worst. But if the sinners were unable to make peace and stop themselves from moving, the drill is quite capable of pushing past bone and into the soft flesh of the frontal lobe. You can technically live with the kind of brain damage caused by an injury there, but do you really want to do that to your new close friend?

You have three minutes to figure it out.


Prompt II

For those fortunate enough to escape the unplanned lobotomy, well, there's an easy task for you! As previously mentioned, Helluvacup and the hotel's own pool both need to be tidied up, or rebuilt in some cases. Any sinners who volunteer will be treated to free drinks and snacks, and receive appreciation from demonic staff. Plus, chipping in and helping your fellow sinners (and demons) is something God often encourages! It will be good for one sin removal overall. There will be building supplies, cleaning supplies, and anything else sinners need to push forward!

The staff also won't be put out if sinners would rather do a little bit of cleaning instead...

Besides, it's a rare opportunity to help import supplies to Hell. There are large crates of unnamed items, new furniture items, torture items, clothes, and more. There's also several boxes of nothing but pumpkin spice that veteran sinners, who know what every fall entails, may cringe at the sight of.


Follow Me Down

Prompt I

WARNINGS: fire, disobedience

Speaking of pumpkin spice and torture devices... Well, sinners may find the prime opportunity for a bit of a bonfire if they're so inclined. It seems some demons are not looking forward to the months of pumpkin spice flavored foods or, well, working, really. These are young, reckless demons, but they've decided to help some of these new shipments get 'lost' by starting a large bonfire in a secluded place in Penance proper. They'll be asking sinners to help out. They'll supply the booze as they watch everything burn later!

If questioned about it, the demons will insist that it's just another part of the importing project. Everyone's trying to tell you to grab the crates and haul them somewhere, right? Into the fire is somewhere. Of course it's fine! You get points for being good little boys and girls every time you shut up and do what you're told. Why would anyone lie about that?

Perhaps it will come as a surprise, then, that anyone who participates will receive one sin added to their contract in the form of arson.


Prompt II

WARNINGS: sex, aphrodisiacs, non-con, etc.

Club Penance has new shots for all to try! Eager incubi and succubi stand around with trays of them, eager to pass them off under the strobe lights and pounding music. The air is sweeter than even usual, the demons amping up the aphrodisiacs to ensure everybody has a good time, and there's plenty encouragement to get lost in the atmosphere. These shots all have a unique influence, although that part may have been left out... Oops.

Apple: Causes one to fall lust with the first person they see. They will absolutely be overwhelmed with the desire to have them and do whatever they must to receive their affections.
Cinnamon: Causes one to fall into love with the first person they see. Their heart will skip beats, they'll feel the urge to recite poetry, anything! Your love must be known.
Pumpkin: Causes one to fall out of balance. Just the perfect meet-cute, isn't it? Hopefully you won't fall into anyone in a bad mood.
Sour Apple: Causes one to fall into a rage. Ah, oops. Maybe they didn't think that one out. This one causes aggression and the need to make certain others know you're the top dog around here.

Wildcard/Misc.

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Phoenix Wright // Ace Attorney

[servesyouwright]

((OOC: Contrary to his icons, this is what he looks like.))

A. Stand your ground

[ No, really, did the car actually hit him that hard?

Just-- He must have hit his head. He must be dreaming.

That's what he keeps thinking, over and over, but no matter how many times he pinches or slaps himself, he doesn't seem to be waking up. So maybe this is actually real. He supposes there is some kind of afterlife, but-- He thought it was supposed to be nothing? Do spirits not remember the afterlife when they've been channeled? Man, he doesn't know enough about this, and there's no one he could ask.

No one he'd really trust, anyway.

But he can ask the front desk demon about the weird TVs.

Really, it has potential to be interesting, but as is, it's just kind of weird. Without really thinking about it, he slams his hand down on the desk, hard enough that the poor demon actually jumps. ]

Hold on. Let me get this straight-- You're saying 'evildoers' cursed the TVs? Can you even talk about evildoers? Isn't this supposed to be Hell?

Listen, buddy, evil ain't binary, all right? This ain't some common demon, this is the the Veiled Order.

[ Really? A demon is lecturing him about morality now?

He sighs, tilting his head back in exasperation. ]

I-- I don't think I wanna ask.

B. Follow me down I

[ Originally, he fully intends to not go along with the demons' prompting. It seems like a very bad idea to risk getting into trouble in what is supposedly Hell. When it finally hits him that some of those boxes have torture tools, though, he decides ... Well, to Hell with it.

...

Or, you know. Whatever.

The point is, he takes one of those boxes, and tosses it onto the bonfire. It's heavier than he expected, and the throw is not exactly graceful, but it hits home at least. ]

Ugh.

[ He visibly shivers, and hunches over for a moment as he digs his fingers into his scalp. Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

(Don't freak out, Phoenix wright. Do not freak out.) ]

This can't actually be happening. Right?

Follow me down II

[ Honestly, he's not sure what brings him to the club. He's never really been much of a club person. But it's loud, and he doesn't really feel like being alone with his thoughts, and the succubi are beautiful in a disturbing way that he doesn't want to think about too long.

He takes a drink. Because why not.

He drinks it, and spots you.

Pick your flavour: A. Cinnamon. B. Sour Apple. ]

A! it's lawyer time

[justmakemoney]

[Phoenix slamming his hands on the desk is a shocking enough sound that it catches Saul's attention. He turns to watch for a moment while the demon tries to explain current hell events (unfortunately, no information he hasn't already heard before, what a shame). And it's not so much that he's inclined to help a stranger out, but because he knows it's more than a bit conspicuous to just stand around half-eavesdropping on someone else's conversation--especially dressed as brightly as he is--Saul chimes in once the demon has had enough.]

And here we all thought politics in life were bad. Now we're stuck in an afterlife with something worse.

[...well, no one said he would be helpful. That's how Saul understands whatever conflict there is with whatever this Veiled Order is. He hasn't spent much time looking into it on his own since getting here.]

Hell yeah lawyer time

[servesyouwright]

[ Oh.

He's making a bit of a scene. Maybe shouldn't be slamming desks outside of the courtroom.

(Get it together, Phoenix.)

Taking a deep breath, he turns towards Saul with a polite smile, briefly spreading his arms in a sort of shrug. ]

I'll be honest, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole Hell thing. Maybe someone's playing a very elaborate prank.

[ Dream sounds way more likely, though, despite the whole issue that he's not awake yet. He's had very weird dreams in the past. But this also seems a lot more involved than those dreams ever got, as far as he can recall. ]

[justmakemoney]

Not sure you ever fully wrap your head around it, to be honest.

[Or at least, in his case, he has yet to have it really hit him that this is Hell-Hell that he's found himself in. It doesn't entirely feel real, and he's not all that sure whether it's supposed to or not. It's probably a bad sign if it ever does feel real, he'd bet.]

Trying to intimidate the demons, though. Now there's a way to ensure things get too real too fast.

[Or at least, he can't imagine getting on the bad side of the demon staff is something you should ever do. A very easy way to make your time miserable.]

[servesyouwright]

[ Trying to intimidate ...? For a moment, he looks genuinely confused, but as soon as he realises Saul is talking about the slamming, he actually laughs a little. And since he's done talking to the demon, and since it's only polite to not talk across half the room, he steps away from the front desk to get closer to Saul. ]

Oh, I wasn't trying to intimidate anyone. That was just, uh ... force of habit.

[ Frustration, or trying to make a point. A bit of both, really. ]

[justmakemoney]

Force of habit?

[He sounds skeptical, raising an eyebrow at Phoenix's choice of description. It's hard to picture what else beyond an attempt at intimidation could lead to that as a habit.]

What kind of life did you live before this that made slamming on desks a habit?

[servesyouwright]

[ He just laughs, light and casual but also kind of hollow. ]

I had to get and maintain my people's attention.

[ Before the prosecutors just talked all over him. ]

[justmakemoney]

Hey, now I know how that goes.

[Saul opens his arms, sort of half-shrugging in emphasis. As if his gaudy bright suit didn't already scream just that without him confirming. Should Phoenix care to look, even though it means nothing in literal hell, Saul still has a small metal pin of the scales of justice on his lapel.]

But what I've found is if you just carry yourself with confidence, people eventually pay attention. It's all about the presentation, and maybe greasing the right palms to get the right audience with the right people.

[servesyouwright]

[ The movement of Saul's arms immediately draws his attention downwards. Those clothes barely match at all, and it gives him flashbacks to a certain unpleasant, pink-haired man.

(I think it's probably your suit rather than how you carry yourself.)

But that--

There's no mistaking that pin now that he's closer. And yet ... What did he say? ]

You know about greasing the right palms, huh?

[ Well. This is Hell, he supposes. If this guy is an attorney, though, he takes particular issue with that. ]

B

[missdemon]

The bonfire, or the being-trapped-in-Hell-to-answer-for-your-sins thing? Because I'm pretty sure they're both equally real.

[Hazel peers down at the man who looks to be on the absolute verge of a full-scale breakdown. One little push, huh?]

You're not looking so good, my guy.

[He's definitely gotta be new here. She pulls a flask out from her jacket pocket and begins to unscrew the cap.]

[servesyouwright]

[ He starts, not expecting someone to actually respond to him. Which, when he thinks about it, doesn't make sense. He's not exactly sitting on the couch in his office. Of course someone could see and hear him.

Her deduction is right. He's on the verge of a breakdown, which means he can't stop the derisive snort or the snarky response as he turns in her direction. ]

Gee, which one d'you think?

[missdemon]

I can hazard a guess.

[But, listen, the bonfire is kind of a novelty. Crouching down to be more eye-to-eye, Hazel offers him the flask.]

This'll help. Everything's way easier to deal with when you aren't sober.

[servesyouwright]

[ That's a suspicious-looking flask from a stranger in Hell. But whether it's really Hell or not, he definitely was hit by a car last he knew outside of Hell, so either he's actually dead or he's hallucinating or dreaming (still hoping for that last one).

His moment of suspicion isn't too obvious on his face, but the pause might give some of it away. Despite that, he ultimately decides to accept it. ]

Thanks.

[missdemon]

Don't mention it. This kinda thing is rough at first. Specially for atheists and science-minded people.

[Or just generally people who aren't, well, crazy like she is. Or other infernal beings.]

Name's Hazel, by the way.

[servesyouwright]

[ He's not sure where he falls on that. He wouldn't call himself religious, but one of his best friends is a spirit medium, and he's seen several times with his very own eyes that it's legitimate. An actual afterlife, though ... That, he didn't see coming.

Wonder if he'll encounter anyone he knows.

Hopefully not. Probably very unlikely, too. If this is Hell, it has to be massive. Considering how many people have been alive in all of human history and how many have done bad things ... Still, he has to admit he's surprised to find himself here. Is that considered prideful? But he supposes he's been on a bit of a slippery slope downwards the past seven plus years.

He straightens up, and manages a smile. ]

Phoenix. It's ... a pleasure?

[missdemon]

To meet me? Yeah, it is.

[She grins, playful. Confidence, thy name is Hazel. When he straightens, she does as well, stretching her arms out over her head.]

At least, you could do a lot worse. Especially down here. Or even in New York.

[servesyouwright]

[ Now that is definitely prideful. Or maybe it doesn't count when it's clearly a joke. He snorts, and takes a sip from the flask. And although he kind of expected it to burn more than what he usually drinks, he can't stop the grimace. ]

I'd say it's too early to tell, but, uh ...

[ He gestures vaguely at their surroundings because, you know, Hell. ]

You're probably right.

[ He doesn't think it's lying to himself to say that there are definitely way, way worse people down here than him. ]

FMD2 B)

[sharktrash]

[ Squalo's on a break, finally having a moment to pour a drink for himself rather than for every goddamn demon or horny sinner turning up at the bar, and he's very much enjoying it, actually. It may not be quiet, exactly, but it's relatively peaceful (nobody is stabbing anyone at the moment) and he can just lounge on the plush chair and sip away while watching people make fools of themselves. ]

[ And then there's some guy he's never seen before -- a new person? -- meeting his eyes. And holding the contact. Squalo raises his eyebrows slightly, then cracks a half-grin and lifts his glass a little as if to toast him from the distance. Getting hit on is part of the job, really, but he doesn't have to actively enable it, and this gesture should be neutral enough to -- ]

[ Is he seriously coming over?! ]

[servesyouwright]

[ This particular drink is sour, and not in a good way. Drinks can definitely be sour in a good way, and it's pretty irritating that this one isn't. Or is that just a given when it's Hell? Is everything just going to taste off?

When he catches Squalo's eye, he feels an instant surge of anger, the kind that makes him see white for a second. Who is this guy? What's with that eyebrow? The grin and raised glass? That's some attitude.

Before he fully knows what he's doing, he's marching over, putting his own glass down on a table he passes on the way. He stops just a step away from the chair Squalo's sitting in. ]

Can I help you?

[ Like he's not the one that approached. ]

[sharktrash]

[ holy shit. he's got a Karen on his hands. why can't Jacinda the other demonic bartender take care of this? ]

[ Squalo stares up at him blankly for a few moments. no, he doesn't believe he did anything rude or inappropriate there... which means, it's time to start. ]

You can remove yourself from being in my face, for starters.

[ A demonic patron at the next table is already going "Ooooooooh" at them. ]

[servesyouwright]

[ He does not appreciate the commentary from that patron, and throws a glare in that direction. Obviously, Squalo's the more offensive guy here, though, so he quickly turns his attention back to him. ]

Seriously? You give me that mocking grin and I'm supposed to remove myself?

[sharktrash]

[ Welp, fuck that, then. ]

[ He slams his drink down on the table and gets up. ]

Mocking? I was being nice, you donkey-blowing piece of trash.

[ Now he's definitely being mocking though?? ]

[servesyouwright]

[ Uhm. ]

What did you just call me?

[ His voice pitches a little higher, and the bluster and anger is sort of gone for a moment. Because there's no way to respond to that except sort of ... sputtering. ]

cw: language

[sharktrash]

[ Oh, he liked that one? There's plenty more where it came from. Squalo's grin grows a little wider, but not in a good way. ]

I said you're a dickfaced piece of shit who fellates everything that moves just like your whore-ass mother.

[ All in one breath. He actually looks fucking proud of himself for that one. ]

wheeze

[servesyouwright]

[ His posturing wasn't very impressive to begin with, but even less so when he first just gapes in disbelief, eyes wide. Why bring his mother into this? Uncalled for.

Rather than say anything, though, he just winds up and swings at Squalo's jaw without hesitation. ]