penancememes | TEST DRIVE MEME #4

Entry tags:

!tdm

TEST DRIVE MEME #4

ARRIVAL

You remember a dream.

Or maybe nightmare is more accurate.

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

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

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

And so you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

STAND YOUR GROUND

Prompt I

It seems like not long after everyone has either returned from the maze or arrived fresh to hell that the storms started yet again. A bit more sporadically and not the constant downpour of the previous month, but it's still blood and fire raining from the skies, along with claps of thunder and lightning strikes that seem far too close for comfort. Fortunately, there's not as much flooding this time. Unfortunately, a particularly loud clap of thunder and lightning that strikes close to the hotel seems to leave it and surrounding establishments in the dark. Quickly, the hotel becomes a cold place, urging all guests to to move to the lobby for some warmth.

A roaring fire will be going and there will be hot drinks and snacks kindly provided by the staff while they try to work on correcting the problem.

Eventually, some rather panicked goblin-like demons come rushing up from the basement. They're half-singed and dirty looking from their adventure, so it doesn't seem to bode well for the power returning any time soon. Guests who listen closely will hear the demons apologizing profusely for 'letting them escape' and much more worrisome than that, about how it looks like there might have been some tampering going on down there. The staff is quick to tell the demons to hush and go, not to worry the guests or let word get back to Lucifer.

Once that whole scene is squared away, the staff will be urging guests to volunteer and pushing them into a drafty, creepy basement with nothing but candles and flashlights to lead the way.

It's okay, they reassure, it's not that bad down there! The lights provided all seem to flicker dangerously though, almost completely going out at times, as you descend creaky stairs to a lower level. Apparently the demons are tired of risking their hide to get the power back on, but they're quite happy to risk all the guests'.

The basement is slightly flooded in some areas, bloody rain making its way through cracks in the foundation. It reeks of dampness and mold. There are things that skitter in the corner of your eye as you venture in further. Rats, bugs, and a few smaller beasts.

No one will be given more to go on than they're looking for a breaker box to reset, and hopefully, that'll get everything back up and running again. Unfortunately, there are so many twists and turns that it gets confusing after a while... How come the basement looks much bigger than it has any right to be anyway?

The basement is also jam packed with boxes just begging to be gone through. Most of them just seem to house an odd amount of clothing and what may be personal items left from previous guests, others hold decidedly more satanic and occult items. But if there's anything you're looking for in particular, from jewelry to a coat to a rad new walkman, you'll probably find it down here.

Keep going and you'll come across a room with a heavy steel door. If anyone should venture inside, they'll see a dungeon inside. There are demons chained to the walls in various ways, strung from the ceiling, or caged up that seem to be wasting away and forgotten. If they notice you, they'll try to plead with you to let them out, bribing you with information on Lucifer that no one else knows, but it's probably for the best you don't. There seem to be a few free spaces waiting for new additions after all... and besides, they've got to be locked down there for a reason, right?

Let them go against all better judgement and they'll most likely just rattle something off while they take off running as quick as they can.

Listen closely enough and you might hear tortured screams as they're presumably killed upon reaching the main floor of the lobby. It was probably inevitably, so don't blame yourself.

Anyway, moving on you keep going past the dungeon, and you'll finally find the room with the furnace and breakers to reset. It shouldn't take long to flip them back, but they'll continue to trip on and off for a while and may require multiple groups to make a return trek down to reset them until the demons finally correct the issues with the wiring that is causing these outages.

Speaking of issues with the wiring and what may have caused them... Hang around the bar or lobby enough, or around any area of the community, and you may hear muttering of something called The Veiled Order from beyond the gates. Some of the demons seem excited, others seem nervous. If asked, the demons may brush guests off. If drunk enough or given proper incentive, they may tell a story about a group of rebellious demons that Lucifer tried to cast out. They were damned to live in the burnt forests outside the gates, but sometimes, they still cause trouble.

Apparently, they thought they could be better rulers than Lucifer and were quite discontent with how he maintains Hell.

Some may say they're worried the Order is causing mischief by messing with the hotel, having had ample opportunity to sneak back within the gates. Others will laugh heartily and insist that it's a dumb tale to scare young demons, nothing more. Certainly nothing to worry about.

Another thing guests may overhear or bribe out of demons around the bar or club is talk about the call of infernal nightmares. If pressed for more info, the demons won't give much beyond the fact that it's a miserable thing, entirely miserable.

Prompt II

Apparently what the goblin-like demons accidentally set free are strange demons that possess fungi, dust, and dirt. They don't seem to quite be from this world, but they're called Coal Tars apparently. They're harmless creatures for the most part, but they do have a love of following around people with dark or sinister natures.

The staff will be offering a reward of a gourmet dinner of the guest's choice if anyone around the hotel will help to capture these little pests and bring them to the front desk. Afterwards, they'll be returned to the basement and locked away again.

Otherwise, people are free to ignore them or laugh at the people who can't seem to shake the little creatures following them around.

Careful though, breathing them in can make your lungs rot. Nasty way to go probably.

REACH UP HIGH

Prompt I
Warnings: cutting, blood, torture.

Whether you've been here for months or you're freshly arrived, your demonic overlord expects some participation. 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 soon enough 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.

"Know that honesty is a good place to start on your road to redemption. Sure, it can be terrifying at first, but that's why you've been given a partner in this journey. Pick up your knives and carve at least one sin into each other's flesh. Help in the journey to be candid with everyone you should meet here!"

The voice echoes all around you again, just like in the nightmare, and once again there's the pull to give in. This voice really does seem like it has your best interests at heart.

"If you need a bit of encouragement, we'll be giving it shortly."

It isn't a lie or 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

"A generous nature is an important part of being a righteous person. Greed is a sin my Father frowns on quite a bit. What I ask you to do today is to go out and find a gift for that special someone or friend of yours and give them something to smile over."

With the items available in the basement and the shop in the hotel carrying a few new items, Lucifer would like to spread the good will of gift giving. It doesn't matter if you're not well acquainted with each other yet. You don't need to be! Anyone can spread cheer by giving a gift.

And if you don't, expect to be in excruciating pain for a few hours, and struggling for a breath. If you can't share a gift, then you don't deserve to share all that oxygen, do you?

FOLLOW ME DOWN

Prompt I
Warnings: Alcohol and drug abuse, potential non-con/dub-con.

With all the sinners, new and old, the bar will be lit up with activity and absolutely bustling with guests and demons alike. Food and drinks will be readily available and provided by hotel staff (although they might not always know what humans eat. What do you mean, you don't like fried kitten?), music will be blaring, 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 will be a certain pull to stay and have a bit of fun.

You may not get much of a chance to have that in hell after all. So one drink won't hurt, right? Nor will one more after that.

There will also be every sort of party drug available that might tickle your fancy. There's no harm in experimenting, is there? You're already in hell and the staff is handing it out and so helpfully showing you how to use it, or recommending a type that would suit what you want.

You've presumably done your atonement for the day, yes? So cut back a bit, let loose. Hell might be pain and torment, but it's also a nonstop party in the bar.

There's even a brand new stage and a karaoke machine for those feeling brave!

Ask the staff demons very nicely and you may even get less scrupulous drugs as well. Things that will convince your fellow damned souls to tell only the truth for a fun prank, or perhaps even potions that will make someone so enamored with you, they won't take their eyes, or hands, off you. How dare they give you the cold shoulder earlier, right? You've got them now.

There are also 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, if you're in a gambling mood. 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, right?

Prompt II
Warnings: sex, aphrodisiacs, potential dubcon/noncon, potential kinks.

The club within Penance has always offered many options for debauchery, but now it seems they're stepping things up a bit. There are themed rooms for sex machines (the same that were present at the carnival) that can be controlled by a demon or a partner. If asked, they'll gladly set you up on stage to put on a performance for the entire club.

They won't side eye you for any other kink you ask for either, however depraved it is.

But the succubi are handing out potions again, that can be taken willingly or not. The purpose of them is to strip away all of your inhibitions... or in certain cases, your mind as well as your will. It will leave those who take the potion as a perfect little pet or slave for someone.

It doesn't matter if you're generally strong-willed or not interested in submitting. You'll find yourself wanting to please someone until it's the most important thing on your mind. Maybe until it's the only thing on your mind. It doesn't even matter if you generally hate or adore the person you've attached yourself to, you'll find yourself sinking down on your knees anyway.

This is the perfect time to play out all those daddy kinks, domination and submission scenes, or perhaps a bit of pet play. It doesn't matter what theme of the game you choose, you're suddenly all for it no matter what.

Because you just want to make someone happy, even if what makes them happy is hurting you as much as pampering.

MISC.
Thanks for joining us for our fourth test drive meme, sinners! Reserves are now open for the upcoming app round on August 1st

If you want to speak with Lucifer, you're free to text or pray to him right here

If you let a demon loose in the dungeon, reply here to see what tidbit of info they revealed!

If you have a comment, suggestion, etc. please go here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Still . . ." He drifted over to watch her work, wincing again when she brought the possibility of them hurting each other. Steve laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing a little.

"It won't work Natasha. It didn't last time. I can't break it down, I can't get through the walls, the locks can't be picked. If we don't start carving, we'll get cut anyway by . . . something. Both of us. I can't let you get hurt, and I refuse to give you even the smallest scar. If anyone gets cut, it's gonna be me."

Natasha pauses when he squeezes her shoulder, her head bowing slightly. For a moment she's still like that, only briefly, only a few seconds. Then she starts probing again. Poking deliberately at the tumblers. No luck.

"Is that what happened when you did this before? You let someone else cut on you?" she asks softly, grim.

He sighed and dropped down to kneel next to Natasha as she worked, dropping his head into one hand, "Do you really want the answer to that Natasha? Do you even have to ask?"

Of course he had. If he was a normal human, he'd still have the scars, but he wasn't. That was another reason to be the one getting cut. No one would have to look at him and see the faint tracery of letters. Only Steve would remember where the marks had been, and what they'd said. It was better that way.

The lockpick nearly snaps in Natasha's hand, and rather than risk pushing harder in frustration, she pulls it out entirely. She turns toward Steve, still crouched down as she faces off against him.

It makes her angry that she knows the answer, and that he would. Of course he would. He'd never ask someone else to take the injury for him.

"Who was it?"

He met her eyes with a faint smile, leaning in to touch her cheek and press their foreheads together, "Hush Nat. You know I'd never tell you something like that. I know what you're thinking and it's not important. If I ask someone to let me take the damage, you can't blame them for saving themselves. Someone had to carve and someone had to take it. I'd rather make someone hurt as little as possible."

"It's ok Natasha. It really is ok."

"I'm not blaming anyone, Steve. This is Lucifer's fault. It's his show." Her expression says that's not entirely true. The fact that bleeds through her expression despite all of her skill as a liar: if she accepted this, she'd blame herself.

Her jaw shifts with tension. If what he's saying is true, then their clock is ticking.

"But you're asking a lot of me right now."

Steve sighed and took both Natasha's hands in his, squeezing them lightly, "Would it really hurt you less if I did the cutting? I hate the idea of making you bleed, but I won't make you suffer more putting the knife in your hand."

He met her eyes, his own dark and unhappy. Hurting Natasha in any capacity was like cutting out his own damn heart, but he'd do whatever made her happiest. He wouldn't put more weight on her if he could help it.

The fact here is that there's not an option that will make either of them happy. Natasha would almost rather they wait it out. What point is there to hurting each other? Why give Lucifer the satisfaction? But she knows Steve won't stand for it, and she understands why.

She also understands that hurting her would be worse for Steve than being hurt himself.

For a brief moment, Natasha allows herself to hate this. Hate the fact that try as she might, turn the problem over in her mind, there's not an answer because there is no riddle. There's no trick to it. There's no gaming the system. Either one of them does this, or both of them are punished.

"Fine. We'll do it your way."

"Natasha I . . . You're sure? We could wait, but there are consequences the longer we put off doing anything. We'll both get hurt." He squeezed her hands and leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, "I don't want to give you scars Natasha, you give them too yourself often enough already. If it's me, the marks'll disappear, and we can both forget . . ."

Well, they could try. Frankly, Steve would have treasured any scars that came from Natasha, no matter why they were put there. It would be a reminder of their time together. Every moment awake was precious to him, and any spent with his friends was twice as important. A scar he could look at would be a lovely reminder, in some ways anyhow. It was . . . complicated.

"Do I look sure?" Natasha asks him, her eyes tired, lines between her brows. "I'm still half tempted to wait and see. It could be different this time. Maybe we're just getting something similar to mess with us, wear us down."

It's a very real possibility.

"But I trust you." She says that simply when her feelings are anything but simple, when she worries that the differences between him and the Steve she knows will create problems, surprises, worries that he'll take more on himself than he should in a way both unlike and keenly similar to the Steve she knows closely. More than that, as she gets to know this Steve, separate from the one back home, she's seen again and again his obvious affection and sensitivity—not just toward her, but toward Tony, Loki, who knew who else. It all weighs on her, and raises questions about if she should trust him, what trusting him might look like. But here he is, and he's Steve, and in the end, she trims away all her moral complexities and tries to follow his lead. "If you think this is the best way... I won't like it, but I'll listen."

He opened his mouth and then shut it. Just because the last time had worked one way didn't mean it always would. Staring at Natasha, seeing the world-weary look in her eyes, the way her lips tightened as she spoke. She didn't want to do it. At all. She'd really rather wait. Steve sighed and moved to sit down, leaning back against the wall, and kicked the knife he'd dropped across the room.

"Ok. I don't know everything, and there's no absolutes in this place. If you wanna wait, we'll wait." He gave his friend a hopeful smile, "I hope you're right Natasha. I hope really hard I'm wrong and we can walk out that door unharmed." Steve leaned his head back and held out his hand, the smile still on his lips turning just a touch amused, "Can I still hold your hand while we wait? Please?" It would make it a lot easier to tell if she was flinching if he had a physical connection, plus he really liked touching her.

Natasha has no confidence she'll be right. This ultimatum, though, it has uncomfortable similarities to what she and Clint faced on Vormir, only this time there's not half of all existence hanging in the balance, no cosmic stone waiting for them to collect. There's just a door that won't open and a threat to make one of them take one for the team.

She nods. If Steve's right and tells her I told you so when this is over, she can live with that. It can be on her.

Until then, she nods at his requests and takes his hand, leaning back against the door to wait.

Steve laced their fingers together with a sigh of relief and let his eyes close, "Thanks."

He wanted to say more, but he didn't know what. Sitting quietly was nice too though, and probably a better idea. When Steve started rambling, he usually got himself in trouble. It was better not to speak unless he had something important to say, right? That was what most people did, wasn't it?

For a time Natasha settles for that. She wouldn't say she's content with it, though Steve's presence helps. He's solid. Familiar. Dependable. It's been a long time since Natasha really felt safe—maybe she never really has?—but she thinks that Steve's about as close to reassuring as she's likely to come.

There's no need to speak. That's comforting too. She doesn't have to pretend she's not waiting for something to happen, either the door to unlock or the incentive that Steve mentioned.

As it turns out, they don't have to wait that long, though. Minutes later, less than half an hour, a quick line of pain draws itself across Natasha's back, just under her shoulder blade. She tries to hold the reaction in, keep it quiet. It doesn't hurt that much. But she doesn't entirely keep from tensing. A flinch that barely twitches her face but tightens her shoulder.

He knew the instant Natasha got cut because he received a slice of his own. His fingers twitched in her hand as the invisible blade cut into his side, carving a long, shallow wound that immediately welled blood. Steve turned his head a bit to see Natasha's face, a faint, sad smile on his face.

"You too? Where did it catch you? Let me see? Please?" Not that he planned to show his own wound, but that was a different issue. If they were both going to be cut up after all, he'd bite the bullet and do as she asked. It was the very least he could do.

"It's fine. My back. Not like it's going to be my first scar." Most of her injuries heal well anyway. It will probably all but disappear in time. Of course, right now she can feel it bleeding slowly into her shirt, a hot line in her skin.

And she's not the only one.

"Looks like you were right after all."

The scent of blood in the air was both sickening and arousing, and Steve hated himself for that reaction. He reached over with his free hand to touch Natasha's face briefly, "I didn't want to be. Should I go get the knife, or would you rather endure with me? Whatever you want Natasha. I'll use it if you want me to."

He'd hate himself, but he'd do it. And he'd forever see the reminder of his betrayal of someone so special to him. It was no less than he deserved.

Natasha's jaw clenches, her head bowed. She doesn't like the choice; there's not a good option, there's not something she wants in a situation in the way someone wants to go out for beer or wants a new car. She wants this to be over the way an animal wants out of a trap.

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself.

"There's no reason to sit and suffer if it's not going to do us any good. I'm not going to be the one who makes that call. If you want to finish this, we'll finish it."

Steve looked away to hide the pain on his face. Suffer with Natasha, knowing he was the cause of the invisible slashes, or do the damage himself. What a choice. He pushed up onto his feet slowly and retrieved the knife. Steve dropped to the floor again and reached for Natasha's hand, planning to do as little damage as possible.

"Which . . . which sin? And where . . ." His voice broke and he stopped trying to speak, glancing at her with shadowed eyes.

She almost says that it doesn't matter. Neither of those things matter. This whole situation is a pointless farce, so pick something short so they can get it over with. For Steve's sake, she keeps her frustration to herself.

She gives his hand a squeeze in return.

"Envy. Wherever you're comfortable putting it. Somewhere people won't see it all the time." That seems the safest. And it's a blessedly short word. "I might not be a super soldier, but I heal pretty well. Just keep it clean."

"That's a little hard Natasha. You do tend to take your clothes off a lot more than most regular people. The only safe places are ones I wouldn't dare use a knife." It was a weak attempt at a joke, along with a watery smile. Steve squeezed her hand again and brought it to his lips, brushing the knuckles lightly with his lips.

"I can definitely do the clean, but where Natasha? Maybe . . . here?" He was trying to find a good place, but honestly he couldn't think of one that wouldn't show. His other hand pressed lightly, high along her side, a little down from her armpit. It seemed like a place that wouldn't show too often, or hurt too much to carve. At least he could do it fast and clean. No dragging or extra scars. He might even be able to keep it shallow enough it would hardly bleed.

"Well, Steve, you just proved you've never had to wear a bra." She manages a slight smile, acknowledging his joke and trying to match the mood, even as another light cut opens along the outside of her thigh, turning the expression into a wince.

She takes a deep breath.

"Upper arm. On the inside. It'll hurt, but as long as you don't go too big or too deep, it should be fine."

It would hurt, sure, but Natasha could take that.

"You'd be correct. There was never a reason when I was a tiny thing, assuming anyone would have found a reason for casual cross-dressing in that age. And when I was bigger, no one would have bought me in a dress as being anything but a weird big man in a dress. I'd be willing to give it a shot though, if you think I need the experience." It was good to tease, even if it was temporary.

Her wince came at the same time a slice cut across the top of one thigh, a bloom of blood soaking slowly into his pants as he knelt there. They were running out of time to get cutting. He laid her hand on his arm, shifting until the area was in the best plane of view.

"Close your eyes Natasha. Don't watch."

"It's all right, Steve. You don't have to worry about hurting me, okay. I can take this." She doesn't look in case it eases Steve's nerves, though, keeping as still as possible herself.

"It's not that I don't think you capable of enduring this Natasha. It's the fact that you have to. I'm sorry Natasha . . ."

He was quick, and the strokes were clean. Shallow too, barely enough to draw blood, but he knew they'd have to be at least that deep to count. Each movement hurt the hell out of him, but he did it. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever done to someone, it was just awful to have to do it to a friend. Steve cupped her cheek, searching Natasha's eyes.

"Still ok? I don't have anything for it in here, but hopefully the door won't stay shut much longer. I have stuff in my room . . ."

(no subject)

deaddrop - 2019-09-30 04:20 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

compelledtoprotect - 2019-09-30 23:45 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only