penancememes | TEST DRIVE MEME #4

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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

He could smell Frank when he was so close, a darker, earthier, muskier sort of smell. It was comforting, the sort of smell you wanted to bury yourself in and close your eyes and let it invade your dreams. Frank was a mass of muscle, a sheer weight and presence in the room, but he wasn't intimidating. At least, not to Kirk.

"What? No further questions?" he murmured, slowly wrapping his fingers around the knife, shifting his head so his nose bumped against Frank's cheek.

"Not right now," Frank said, shaking his head. It wasn't the time for questions. If Jim wanted to scrutinize and question Frank's list, he was welcome to, but Frank wasn't in that business. Dealing with the immediacy of actions, sure. Jim hadn't killed anyone in Hell, had he, so what problem did he have with him? None.

Frank considered for a moment. Then he pulled back, far enough to remove his shirt. There were bullet scars on both shoulders, a scattering of other things across his upper body. He tapped just beneath the scar on his left shoulder.

"It really is to bad we're in this situation, otherwise I would enjoy that show a lot more."

Frank was gorgeous, no doubt about that. And if they had been elsewhere, he would spend more time admiring the hard planes of muscle, exploring the dips of his scars and trying to coax out the stories behind them. Because his body did tell a story, and a difficult one at that if the wounds were anything to go by. It made him ill thinking he was about to inflict another.

"Tell me if you need me to stop," he said sternly, in his captain's voice, pressing the edge of the blade to Frank's skin, but not cutting, not just yet.

Frank nodded, an acknowledgement without words. He knew it would be painful, but easier if he did it quickly.

He took a steadying breath and lifted a hand to Jim's hand, a little nudge and steadying gesture. The sooner they started, the sooner it was over. Well, if they let them out with a single carving. He didn't relish the idea of doing this back to Jim.

"Come on," he murmured. "Come on, you're okay Jim."

"Not exactly worried about myself at the moment," he said, his hand steady despite the sour feeling in his stomach.

But with Frank's assurance that was all right and would presumably tell him if he was digging to deep, he adjusted his grip on the blade and pressed into skin enough that a bead of blood welled. He hoped that would be deep enough to count as he drew the blade down, carving the first letter. At lease the mercy was that the blade was sharp, slicing through skin like butter.

M - U - R - D - E - R.

The sharpness helped, but there was only so much that could be done about the aching burn of cuts, the slow but gaining curtain of blood streaming from each line to slide down his chest. A shuddering breath worked out of him. And then, after a few unsteady breaths, it was done.

When Jim was done with the word, Frank took a couple more shallow, composing breaths. He put his hand on the back of Jim's neck again and pressed their foreheads together. The feeling was sharp, burning agony. He nodded a little bit, holding on for the pain until it was something he could set aside.

"Okay," he murmured. "Okay. You good, Jim?"

Once again he didn't fight the grip on his neck, the closeness of the other man. Whatever he needed to pull him through the pain, he was willing to give. After all, he had just carved such a horrible thing into his skin. Something he had done. That sour sensation returned, but he shoved it down, tossing the bloodied knife to the table and reaching up to cup Frank's face, stroking gently.

He titled his head just enough to brush his lips over Frank's. "That's a damn funny thing to ask for a man whose arm is bleeding at an only mildly alarming rate."

Frank's smile was not unkind, but it could hardly be called a smile. Jim put the knife aside, and that soft brush of lips ached through him for a moment. Alright. One more step, and that was it.

He would have preferred exchanging hideous memories.

"Yeah, you can say something ridiculous when I'm done with you," he assured. He didn't want to pick up the knife, but he knew it was the only way out. For a moment, at least, it was just the searing pain. That was easy to tune out.

Carving somehow seemed easier, even if the physical pain was more. Hard to spill your guts to someone, especially if they’d won you a cute doll. And honestly he hardly expected Frank to trust him enough to take that option anyways. So he huffed, taking another brush of lips before letting go and stripping off his own shirt.

He was by no means as built as Frank, but he wasn’t without muscle, or the tattoo running down his left rib cage. He sucked his teeth as he debated the spot, and ultimately tapped his shoulder as Frank had. His back would have been preferable, but he figured having to work through the scar tissue there would only make this more difficult.

“Surprise me, I guess.”

Frank picked up another knife--there was maybe no sense in that, except that it was instinctive to not use the same one that had just been used on him. He ought to do a small word, he knew. Something quick and easy. Jim had given him something a bit lengthy, and there was a note of dizziness that went along with bleeding, but already it was starting to clot up.

He pressed the knife briefly to Jim's flesh.

"Breathe," he told him gently, and began to carve.

W-A-R-M-O-N-G-E-R

Well to be fair, he had thought this might end faster if they chose ones that were worse on the list. Murder was likely his worst, though that was a matter of opinion. Some people would likely thrust lust up to the top, but he hardly saw that as a problem or a sin.

He turned his head, biting into Frank's shoulder as the man carved his own. It stung more than anything, the beauty of a very sharp knife. But god did it sting, and the iron scent of blood flooded his nose. He groaned, digging his hands into Frank's hips as he kept himself still.

"That was longer than the one I gave you," he grumbled into Frank's shoulder. "And an interesting choice."

"I know. I know." Frank tossed the knife aside and cupped the back of Jim's neck, breathing little shushing sounds against his hair as he leaned into his shoulder. It didn't make either of them feel better, but it would settle.

He heard the door click unlocked. Enough blood.

"Come on," he said gently, coaxing. He didn't quite disengage from Jim, just reached out and grabbed both their shirts from where they'd discarded them onto the table. His eyes glanced over the knives. "Come on, I've got some bandages back in my room. We'll get patched up."

The touches were sweet and all, but they were starting to become a touch frustrating. He hardly needed to be babied - he’d faced worse, after all, and it wasn’t like he was panicking or crying out in pain. But it seemed to make Frank feel better or perhaps in control of the situation, so he said something for the moment.

“Not how i imagined my first visit to your bedroom,” Kirk sighed, grimacing at the feeling of trickling blood running down his arm.

Frank might apologize for the slightly overbearing nature of handling this, but later. He didn't like hurting people who didn't deserve it, and especially not people he considered himself friendly with. It tended to bring out his more fundamental protective instincts, and he wasn't going to change on a dime.

The walk about to his suite was relatively brief, at least. A few moments of walking, and he let them into the suite, and then promptly into his room because it was where his things were and he didn't really feel like explaining why he was bringing back someone with warmonger carved on their body. His own carving was easily ignored at the moment.

He grabbed his duffel bag and opened it. There wasn't much in it, but a first aid kit and some changes of clothing he'd acquired in the time he'd been here. He smiled at Jim a little. "Are you going to let me baby you, or should I let you do the dressing yourself?"

Kirk followed and made no qualms about moving quickly and quietly into Frank's room. His bleeding had mostly stopped by now, though his arm was a rather sticky mess because of it. Not knowing where else to sit, he took up a position on Frank's bed, watching the man get out his little kit and clothes.

"I prefer to call it being pampered," he corrected him, but he smiled back all the same as he offered his arm to Frank.

"Pretty sure pampering involves running my fingers through your hair," Frank said with a small smile. "And possibly letting you paint my nails, but maybe that's just when my daughter's involved."

He wiped off the blood, both what had slid down Jim's arm and the newly budded mess at the cuts, gentle of the raw edges the knife had left. Because it had been so sharp, everything was clean and crisp, even if it was raw. It was easy to put on a little analgesic and wrap a sterile bandage over the whole thing. He was no medic, but he knew how to handle shit like this at least.

“So why don’t you?” Kirk asked, letting Frank do his work without complaint other than a few winces when his wound was agitated.

He raised his free hand, slipping his fingers along Frank’s cheek and then around and up into his hair, carding through the thick, dark hair. Gently he massaged the back of Frank’s head and down to his neck.

“Talented hands.” Referring to himself or Frank? Who really knew, but did it matter.

It had grown in the weeks he'd been there, as it had grown since he'd cut it all off again before meeting Micro. Sometimes, Frank considered that he ought to get the mess of unruly curls under control. Sometimes, he worried that feverish reset of a high and tight put him back into war, and maybe he ought to just let it grow out. Not the ridiculous hipster style he'd had, beard and shaggy hair and all, but it wasn't bad to have fingers lost in his hair.

He looked up at Jim, still kneeling in front of him. The hand on the back of his neck was disgustingly familiar, and the way he pressed back into it ached for a man that wasn't here, that had abandoned him at some point between Kandahar and the bunker in New York. A part of him wondered if Jim thought of anyone else when he touched him like that; the fact that he did troubled him, sometimes.

"Maybe when you do mine," he said, but made no move to get up from his knees in front of Jim, or dislodge his touch.

Was Frank lonely? Kirk wouldn’t blame him, in this place. Even with James there, with the friends he was making, there was always a sense of loneliness. A sense of never quiet belonging, and a part of him being left behind, somewhere else. But of course it was. He wanted to be home, with his crew, his family. As much as he felt the ache in Frank’s push into his touch, he felt his own, yearning for connection.

He leaned down, touching his forehead to Frank’s as Frank had done to him several times over the course of the past hour - hours? Who knew.

“I’ll be quick,” he promised, pressing a fast kiss to Frank’s lips before sitting up and getting out his own set of supplies from the kit, setting to work.

He was no doctor, but Bones had made sure that he understood some basic first aid, though this was primitive by his standards. Still, it got the job done as he disinfected Frank’s cuts and wrapped the bandages around the thick slab of muscle.

“Good as new,” he murmured, hand returning to massage Frank’s neck.

Every flash of kiss stoked something in him, a quiet intention that Frank had never handled well. They switched positions, and Frank sat stoically as Jim doctored the cuts. He'd had enough people mend things on him over the years that he was good at nonreaction by now.

Once the bandages were in place, Frank focused out again, giving Jim a small smile. He brought up his hand as well and carded his fingers through Jim's hair, cupping the back of his head.

Now, he was the one that leaned in, a moments pause between brushing his nose gently against Jim's and pressing their lips together.

He let Frank take his time working back up, tilting his head to meet Frank’s. His other arm rose, sliding around his shoulders as he met Frank’s kiss.

He pressed into it, tongue delving between Frank’s lips, moaning quietly as the taste of the man hit him. There was an ache in his arm from the wound when he moved it but he didn’t much care as he tugged Frank closer, spreading his legs to let Frank settle between them.

It wasn't the headiness of some moments he'd had in this place, something that happened fast and filthy because how else was it supposed to happen. There was a visceral quality to it, a clinging to life and comfort. Frank was used to that, the solace-seeking.

Frank pressed Jim back, following after him, not giving up the kiss. While Jim cupped the back of his neck, he spread his hand across his ribs, feeling the strong, wiry shape of him with every shift and breath.

He shifted when Frank pushed him, tugging Frank to come with him even though the man seemed to already be doing that. His kiss great hungrier, searching for more as he arching into the grip on his ribs. He raised his hips, grinding against Frank in a slow, rolling motion, hissing as his groin bumped against Frank's.

"Don't worry, I won't break," he promised Frank when he broke the kiss to breath before diving back in, a hand working between them to grip Frank and knead him with his palm.

"Maybe I just like to be gentle," Frank teased a little. He was a big guy--shorter than Jim but broader, thicker built--and the softly murmured words might seem contraposed to his very existence.

He was, actually, a fan of that slow, heady build. But he liked the eager touch and squeeze of people that knew they were both turned on by each other. Why shouldn't he have both: slow, deep kisses and eager, groping hands. Frank rolled his hips against Jim's hand and dragged his hands down until he could fit them underneath him, grabbing Jim's ass to squeeze and hold him close.

"Oh, well, then carry on," Jim purred, meeting Frank's lips again in the slow, heavy pace they had been going at while his hand continued its work.

He smiled when he felt Frank push against his fingers, massaging him through the fabric, sliding his fingers up and down the growing bulge. The hands on his ass caught him by surprise, but not much, pushing back into Frank's large hands (another turn on). He let go of Frank's cock in favor of bringing his own hips closer, grinding against him, allowing him to rock back into Frank's grasp, his own pants starting to feel very tight.

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