TEST DRIVE MEME #5

[penancemods]

ARRIVAL

You remember a dream.

Or maybe nightmare is more accurate.

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

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

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

And so you do.


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

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

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

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



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

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

STAND YOUR GROUND

Prompt I

With the Mares leaving, the nightmares fade right along with them. Unfortunately, the hotel outside is looking rather worse for wear because of it. It's been pummeled, cracks in the siding and broken windows are everywhere. It looks much more befitting of the hellish landscape surrounding it, true, but Lucifer is already putting the demonic staff on repairs. They'll be enlisting the help of guests, whether they want to or not. Watch out when the whips and other punishments come out to play for those who seem to be slacking too hard.

The staff hardly has patience for it, whether the guests are feeling up to it or not. In truth, neither are the demons. Exhaustion is hanging heavy in the air for everyone.

But life must go on.

On the plus side, at least all the doorknobs and locks seem to be returning.

For current guests, they may now be dealing with a Frenzy come down and finding that they still itch for another fix. It won't be an easy ride. Withdrawals come with extreme fatigue, aches and pains, chills, depression, and an urge to potentially hurt yourself or others as agitation sets in. If asked for tips on dealing with it, the staff will tell the guests to just rest whenever they can, stay hydrated, and eat. The nausea that follows might make that difficult, but the staff seems to have very little time for sympathy at this point in time.

For new guests, they'll find things in quite a bit of disarray. Fortunately the demons are eager to hand out chores. They range from cleaning up broken glass and other items around the hotel, to removing boards from windows, to Hell beasts that need to be moved back from the basement to their enclosure just outside the hotel and helped to settle back in.

Anyone is free to visit any new beast friends they've made whenever they desire after this point. As a distraction, the hotel staff will even be offering riding lessons for larger beasts, both horse and canine-like ones.

Despite the push for normalcy though, there's a wariness in the air. Whether that's because of the recent bout with the Mares or the hushed whispers continuing on about the Veiled Order, it's uncertain. Something just feels off. Not to worry though, it's probably just paranoia creeping in. No one really wants to talk about it either way.

Every evening, once all the hard work is done, the staff seems to find the time to get a roaring fire going in the lobby fireplace and set up a buffet of food and drink for everyone to enjoy. There's every sort of food imaginable, and even some you wish you'd never seen. Spit-roasted dog, anyone? It's a delicacy here. There's also a lot of desserts of varying kinds from chocolates to ice cream to cakes and pies. Beer, coffee, sodas, and anything else people could want to drink is also on offer. There are even some specialty drinks for the vampiric guests around here.

There's entertainment as well. The demons are putting on makeshift plays and doing improv comedy routines, as well as dragging guests into the act if they seem interested. They'll ask them to perform tricks or act out Shakespearean scenes. For what it's worth, it does actually seem like everyone is trying to just have some fun. There's no harm in refusing to act anything out beyond some mostly good-natured booing and ribbing.

The succubi have also been given a room to set up for personal massages (with or without the happy ending). Massages are done in groups though, so you might want to rethink anything too frisky. If asked, the succubi will step aside and allow guests to massage each other instead, if that's more comfortable.

They're offering to help bathe and wash anyone who desires it for extra pampering, but most folks are understandably wary of the succubi and incubi around. No sexual play is actually being forced in these circumstances since, for once, the demons are well fed on sexual energy.

Oddly enough, the staff does seem to just genuinely want to do something refreshing. Although it's still probably clearly more for themselves than anyone else. Better enjoy it while it lasts though!

Prompt II

As another way to spoil (or distract) the guests a bit more, a new location has been brought to life!

Lucifer has insisted upon a movie theatre. It's located a short walk from the hotel. It's impossible to miss as the sign flickers and it's surrounded by a few very broken down, abandoned buildings still.

Outside, it looks like an old classic establishment from a time long since passed, but it has all the modern conveniences inside at least. From plush seats that recline and maybe get a bit too into giving a massage to all the treats you could ask for. So grab yourself some popcorn, a soda, hot dogs, or whatever else you want. There's also alcoholic beverages available for those who really need help getting through a movie.



Currently, the theatre is showing: Bedazzled, Manos: The Hands of Fate, Captain America (1990 version), Troll 2.

But there are request slips to be filled out by sinners if there's another movie they'd like to see when they rotate films around each month.

Located within the theatre is an arcade with zombie-themed shooter games, Pac-Man, motorcycle racing, and claw machines. There are also a few other gaming machines and one that's supposed to test romantic compatibility between couples. See if you're truly meant to be!

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

"Offering one another counsel is a trait God rather admires. Compassion, goodwill... all of that. He has requested a demonstration that all of you are complying with your redemption, so I thought of a rather interesting way to show him." Lucifer's voice rings out warm and almost affectionate as he speaks within the guests' heads, the sound ringing within their skulls and beckoning them to trust him.

Even as demons grab at guests and haul them into a room only to lock the door. As usual, the doors can't be opened through any means guests will be able to perform. At least the room is cozy looking, with a plush couch and chairs.

"I must say that I'm proud of all of you. What I ask, I have no doubt that you will accomplish. Please, both of you have a seat and discuss anything from a bad memory, a fear, or even a silly little phobia you may not be proud of. Listen to each other, help one another as I know you can."

That's right. Guests are expected to share a bit about themselves, whether it's a trauma or a past sin they feel guilty for. Maybe it's even something as simple as an irrational fear of spiders... as long as it's sincere, it counts. Guests must absolutely share something if they don't want to be punished. They'll also have to provide sympathy or counsel.

If no one speaks, there's always a catch. The longer one of the participants refuses to speak of anything real, or lies, the more a headache will start to set in. Guests will feel a slight throbbing in the temples that grows steadily worse until it's almost blinding. Gradually, blood will start oozing from eyes, nose, and ears.

All of it will stop the minute guests comply and play along.

It is possible to wait out the punishment if guests are willing to let each other suffer for it, but this will be considered a failed challenge and Lucifer will have to rethink all that pride he said he had.

FOLLOW ME DOWN

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

Those newly arrived to Hell will hear about a drug called Frenzy. The effects of which include the lack of a need to sleep for as long as one uses it, feeling like the best version of oneself, and feeling better than they possibly ever have. It may even get to the point where pain is minimized or even welcomed as a pleasurable experience.

The downsides of the drug include giving into a frenzy of one's basest instincts, whether it's lust or anger or anything else that they're naturally inclined towards.

This drug will be offered at the club outside the hotel, but the succubi who make it will demand payment up front this time. This can come in the form of keeping the club up and cleaned, serving guests, or performing on stage. It may also include sex with the demons or other patrons, or putting on solo performances for an audience. The succubi won't particularly care how willing guests are when they come to demand their payment and may force it.

Some will tell you that it's absolutely worth the price though, especially down in Hell where there's so much pain already. What's wrong with a little bit of escape, really? Others will tell you to stay far away from it all.

Of course the demons fail to mention it has the potential to be addictive, but users will probably figure that out on their own once they've come down. It isn't their fault if no one did their research!

Beyond Frenzy, the club also offers a variety of drinks and aphrodisiac-laced foods. There are poles for dancing, plush couches throughout as well as more private tables. There are stages where sex machines are set up, as well as other areas to tie up volunteers or to set up any other type of play imaginable. There are private rooms that can be rented out for the night for those who really want to explore their desires.

Attractive succubi and incubi roam the club as staff or active participants. Some will become more forceful if they're hungry, others will gladly offer any sort of temptations they can.

Careful if you ever see through a their pretty illusion and see the old, angry crones they really are though. It's a bit hard to forget that.

Regular demons also frequent the club, ranging in looks from tiny, mischief-making goblins to goat-like beasts to more humanoid types. There may even be tentacled-beasts who may not be the best at conversation, but will be eager to participate any play they're invited to.

There's a dance floor and loud music pumping through the club in a dedicated space for those who'd rather just dance the night away safely detached from the sexual side of things. All manner of drugs will be offered for those who ask staff, not just Frenzy.

Prompt II
Warnings: Potential violence and abuse.
There are hooded figures making their way through the hotel, but it's oddly hard to focus on them. The more guests try, the more their attention wants to drift to anything else.

For those magically inclined, they may notice the hint of a spell or black magic, but it's just as easily forgotten as everything else.

Guests won't even notice when the figure brushes against them, a skeletal hand adorned with gold brushing over any exposed skin they can reach with a whisper light touch.

It's an encounter that's so easily written off as guests continue on with their day, it really isn't worth mentioning at all later.

But ever since it happened, it feels like there's a poison that's entered the guest's system, twisting around their insides until they feel almost hollowed out. It's a whisper in the ear, inspiring envious feelings towards their fellow guests and the local demons that may never have been there before.

Why do they have it so easy? Why do they have fewer sins and why do more people love them than they do you? Why are you so unimportant to them? Why does everything come so easily to them when you have to work so hard for it?

Envy doesn't have to make any rational sense at all. It can happen at the most inopportune times and leave one feeling like they're burning up from the inside at the injustice of it all.

Even if it's someone a guest generally likes or gets along with, they'll feel this nasty little sensation creeping in.

Rage replaces the envy eventually. The anger starts to become overwhelming. After all, you're the one who is truly worthy of all the attention, all the adoration, all the things they've got. Other people are merely foolish for not realizing it.

Or perhaps it's not even envy at what the other guy has. Perhaps it's because the guest craves all the attention and all the affection of this other person. The guest may never have sought love or possession before, but suddenly it's all they seem to crave from this one person. They'll do anything to have it or to become as close to one person as possible.

Doesn't it eventually just make you want to hurt them for it all? Whether verbally or physically, guests will be drawn to action, or even force if they must. They will desire to either claim what they want or make the other admit to never having deserved it.

Alternatively, guests may also be reduced to begging to be noticed by the object of their envy, desperate enough to do anything to get what they feel is rightfully theirs.

This influence will be hard to fight off, but stronger guests will be able to fend off the envious effects of the mysterious demons. Others won't be so lucky.

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

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

If you have questions, comments, suggestions, etc., go here.


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Comments

QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, SUGGESTIONS

[penancemods]

NPC - Lucifer

[odaystar]

@setsunam; text

[failed_antichrist]

you back? get everything sorted?

text; @widow

[deaddrop]

That invitation for a drink still good?

text; un: imimmortal

[gracefullytall]

heard you get embarrassed easily, shy-tan.

Bullseye | Marvel Comics | ota | cw: blood, excessive violence, and Lester's foul mouth

[clozapine]

I. Stand Your Ground: Prompt 1

Waking up in a new place with a list of all the bad shit he's done as long as a jumbo sized roll of paper towel was unsettling at first, but as Lester gets a look around he decides this is considerably less awful than the last time he woke up in a strange place with no recollection of arriving and being unable to leave. He's instructed to head down to where the others are eating, and has no reason to protest--all the while looking out for items he may need to use as weapons in a pinch.

None the wiser to the true form of the incubi and succubi, he goes along with them to be catered to. Usually he'd prefer strangers not to be all up in his junk but, hell, they're all eerily attractive. And what kind of asshole refuses a pedicure and foot massage? Not this asshole.

"Get a load of this. I could get used to this place."

II. Reach Up High: Prompt 1

Well, the vacation was nice while it lasted. He's not sure why he's shoved into a room with a stranger, but approaches the table with two lists. His own is recognizable by sheer length, but he overlooks it in favor of taking up one of the knives. He turns it this way and that to examine it, not really looking up to whoever was unlucky enough to be stuck in that room with him.

"You better hope we don't have to fight to the death to get out of here, sweetness, because that list over there?" Lester points with the knife in his hand to the itemized list of all the wrongs of his life. "That's all the dumb fucks I've ever kill--"

He's cut off by the announcement that in order to leave the room they'll need to carve the other. Lester raises a brow in disbelief. "Now aint' that some shit."

III. Reach Up High: Prompt 2

Lester is starting to understand what these rooms are about now. They're like little fucked up therapy sessions that no one asked for. He's slowly starting to believe that it's actually hell. He can cut, carve, and incapacitate people all day and not get tired of it, but god forbid he have to actually sit down and talk about how he came to be the fucked up man he was.

"Yeah, no. I'm not doing this shit," he mumbles to himself, glancing over to the person stuck with him.

IV. Arrival: Network post

Anyone know where I can buy weapons? Guns would be fuckin great, but throwing knives and shit will work too.
Also, this place doesn't have any cops, right?

V. Wildcard
(Throw whatever you want this way and I'll work with it. I'll match format. Hit me up on Discord if you have questions. Yandere#7980)

IV. Arrival: Network post

[failed_antichrist]

No cops. Pretty sure they'd be the last of our worries.

But haven't seen any of the other stuff you asked for, either. Except, you know, knives in the torture rooms.

II. what the heck, how bad can this possibly go?

[knucklesdirty]

Francis doesn't look any more thrilled than Lester. He's tall, scruffy blonde hair, and a seeming fondness for the color purple. A bit on the lanky side, but with shoulders that came with using a bow from the time he was old enough to figure which way the arrow went. He cocks his head at the man's words, a slight curl of his lips, though it thins with the announcement of what's expected of them. "Yeah well, killing people doesn't make you special."

Not as if Francis could ever keep his mouth shut, and especially not here, when something about the guy just rubs him the wrong way. On the upside, this guy isn't someone he's got a whole lotta qualms about cutting sins into, though he's a little less thrilled about the concept of the inverse.

Not that he regrets any of his supposed sins; he'd been fighting to survive. It was what it was. But letting this guy carve something into his skin? That's a lot less appealing. He picks up the knife, flipping it in his fingers.

"Well, this is new. Not sure I'm a fan."

III

[dealwiththedeva]

"Quit your yappin'! Or rather get a move on it so we can get outta here." The gruff voice, which sounds like it belongs to a Brooklyn mobster from the 70s, actually comes from a being that looks more like it should be one of the demons running the show here. Between the three eyes, nine foot tall frame, dangerous looking claws, and armored tail (what kind of a tail even needs armor?), Beelzemon very much looks like a demon, but he's not. Just a Digimon that's been sentences here like everyone else.

He's sitting on the couch and hogging all the room, though partially that's just because he's so dang large. Beelzemon's got long limbs that aren't proportional to his body like a human's which are sprawling out farther off the couch no matter how much he sinks into it. He looks fairly casual for the moment despite his intimidating appearance, though really, he doesn't want to talk about this just like Lester does. He prefers not to think of all the horrible things he's done in his life.

Reach Up High 2

[hiddenobjective]

Cain had learned his lesson a few weeks back - avoid the 'torture rooms'. Not that the demons wouldn't randomly snag people and toss them in anyway. And, that's exactly what he thought was happening as he got dragged into the room, not bothering to resist much.

Instead of knives, though, there were... comfortable looking couches?

"What... the fuck is this?" Of course, he really didn't need to ask. They're told exactly what's expected of them.

"They're fucking joking, right?" He looked over the other man in the room, not recognizing him.

network; wiccan666

[noassgardian]

Why would there be cops in Hell?
You can find weapons around, I guess. Look in the room next to the gym.

Reach Up High II

[blindninja]

He's never liked being manhandled, even by people with the best intentions making assumptions going off the very visual, very obvious cues that he might possibly need the help navigating and getting around. Clenching his teeth, Matt breathes a sigh against the closed door. He can't really hear what's going on outside, so he doubts they'll be able to hear him even if he screamed his lungs out.

This whole place makes him want to scream his lungs out. But he feels fairly resigned to his fate. He's been judged, and he's been damned, and while he's currently not necessarily fine with the idea, he's swallowing the hard pill down as best he can.

Turning his head towards a version of someone he ought to recognise, but doesn't, Matt bites the tip of his tongue to stop two dozen confessions from spilling out. He's no stranger to laying his own sins bare but he can smell ambivalence before Lester had even said anything.

"What should we do then?" he asks, pressing his lips into a thin, flat line.

Princess Audrey | Descendants | ota

[ideserve]

Arrival

[Audrey remembers dying. She'd been doing the right thing and using a child as a meatshield to defend herself from dragonfire, and then there was nothing.

Nothing, that is, until waking up here, in an ugly little room with terrible lighting and actual demons crawling around. Her first thought is to be frightened, but it occurs to her that this is an extension of what she'd asked for. If she couldn't be queen of paradise, she'd have to out-mean them all. This is just a test to prove her theory. It's the natural extension of the path she chose.

So as she moves through the hall, scepter in hand, she does her best to fake a confidence she doesn't exactly feel. She'll keep her nose turned up, gown flowing regally behind her, scowling at the first non-Demon presence she comes across.]

And what are you looking at? Haven't you ever seen real royalty before?

[They'll crush her if she shows signs of weakness. So she just won't. What could possibly go wrong?]

Follow Me Down II

[Audrey's no stranger to jealousy. It's been the guiding force behind a lot of her decisions lately. So when the hooded figure touches her arm, there's really no reason to notice anything is amiss. The churning hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach is nothing new. This is all normal.

It's normal, but there's nothing pleasant about it. She's only been here a few days and already she can see it starting all over again. She's here, fabulous, but slipping into the background. The demons keep her waiting while they tend to someone else. They expect her to wait in line for a massage. Nobody knows her here, and nobody seems to care about her lineage or her reputation. And that has to end.

So while the envy is eating her from the inside out, she'll lash out. Waving her scepter wildly, she attempts to curse whoever's closest, residents and demons alike. It might be devastating, but her imagination is all decidedly fairytale in nature. There's no real wound or harm done. She'll turn food into poisoned apples or send someone into an enchanted sleep. She might make someone age rapidly or turn into a beast. But whatever she does is easily reversible with True Love's Kiss..... Or whatever passes for love in a place like this. Magic isn't as discriminating as it sounds sometimes. And those skilled with magic of their own might notice that she's not entirely skilled with her curse-flinging, aiming wide and missing her mark as often as she catches something. She's only been committing to evil sorcery for about a day and a half. It's the wrong end of the learning curve.]

Arrival

[failed_antichrist]

Royalty? [His tone is amused, with a thread of confusion, before Setsuna just laughs at her. He gives her gown a full once over, the air about her, and laughs some more. He doesn't answer properly, but yes, he has.]

Just a heads up, no one down here gives a fuck if that's what you are, Princess.

Impmon/Beelzemon | Digimon Tamers

[dealwiththedeva]

I. Stand Your Ground - Prompt I

Beelzemon is pretty stubborn at first to do chores. As he's quick to tell the demons, he's not a kid, and isn't about to sit there and take orders from them. When one of them tries to whip him, he's quick to snatch it out of their hand. "Mine now," he tells them. Apparently, they decide to try a different tactic, and challenge him to wrangle some of the Hell beasts. Falling for it hook, line, and sinker, Beelzemon immediately goes off to try and help get the beasts back in their enclosures.

For someone of his size and strength, being a nine foot tall creature that's a cross between a demon and a biker with black angelic wings, getting the beasts to move isn't too hard. Right now though, he's faced with an especially stubborn one digging their feet in. He's tugging impatiently on a lead rope. "I've fought bigger and uglier Digimon then you, grumpy. You're gonna move whether you like it or not!" Care to give him a hand?

Later on, he can be found devouring an alarmingly enormous quality of food. He's got atrocious table manners and doesn't bother with utensils, instead just picking things up, and eating them bite by bite. Hey, staying in his present form takes a lot of energy, and since he doesn't have any digital data to currently eat, this will have to do the trick. He might wave at you, pointing to something you're currently about to eat yourself. "What's that?" He's eternally on the hunt for another meal.

II. Reach Up High - Prompt I

[At first, Beelzemon absolutely refuses to do what's being asked of him. Had he been brought some time ago, he would have relished the thought of inflicting pain upon others, especially humans. Not anymore. Nope, he's not doing this, and he doesn't think anything can make him change his mind. That is until he starts seeing the shallow cuts appear on whoever is with him and feel the small sting of them on his own digital flesh. It clearly distresses him greatly.

Without hesitating or explaining what he's doing, the Digimon strips off a glove and rolls the sleeve of his jacket up, revealing a pale grey arm tipped with sharp, inhuman claws.]

Go on. I can take it. [He's both gotten and dealt out a lot worse damage then this. There's even a small ghost of a smirk on his face.] Just pick one that doesn't have a lot of letters. [Indeed, he doesn't cry, wince, or so much as flinch away as the other person cuts him. He might even be making conversation. When it comes time his turn to do the same, there comes a slight problem. It's clear Beelzemon doesn't know how to read, for the cuts he's making are only the most superficial resemblance to the letters he's supposed to be making.]

III. Follow Me Down - Prompt II

Envy has always been a very big problem for the Digimon. It's what had led to most of his sins after all. The jealousy that had consumed him had driven him into a state of madness from which he'd almost been unable to come out of. He would have destroyed everything around him if he could have.

Now it returns. Just a little bit at first, that sharp pang as he wonders why everyone else here is so much better suited to redemption then he is. Why him? Why is he so damn unredeemable? He'll never make it out of this place. No matter what he does, it'll never be enough. Soon enough, that feeling of anger has begun to overwhelm. No matter where he turns, he sees people that clearly think they're better then him. No. If they think that, he'll simply have to show them just how wrong they are!

When it feels like he's had enough, he stops up to the nearest person that's gotten his attention. Grabbing them with one gloved hand, he shoves them up against the nearest wall with a spine-jarring slam, both hands pressed down hard on their shoulders. His three eyes are narrowed in rage. "We need to have a serious talk," he snarls, though the way he says it definitely makes it seem like talking isn't what he wants to do.

This can be quite intimidating considering how much larger he is then a normal human being. His clawed-tipped hands are big enough to crush someone's skull with little to no problem at all, to say nothing of the fact he can transform one of those arms into a literal arm cannon that looks big enough to blow a person into chunky little bits of salsa with a single blow.

IV. Wildcard - Network

[That face on the screen definitely looks demonic with the three bright green eyes and grey skin that peeks out from the helmet covering his head. Just in the background, there's a glimpse of a pair of black feathery wings. There's no mistaking him for human. Perhaps he's one of the demons around here? Well, one wouldn't be far off with that guess considering Beelzemon is a Demon Lord Digimon. His voice when he talks is very loud at top-volume, very fast, and has a distinct Brooklyn accent to it that makes it sound like he just walked off the set of Goodfellas. It soon becomes apparent he's another guest like everyone else.]

HELLLLOOOOOO!!! Is anyone out there? Can you hear me??? [It's likely a deaf man would be able to hear Beelzemon at this point.] I know they said we're supposed to be trapped here, but I mean, c'mon, most worlds have an exit door if ya just look hard enough for it. Anyone given that a go yet?

[He also holds up the piece of parchment with his sins on it and his mood seems to go a little more somber for a moment.] Also can any of you tell me what this says? [Someone never learned to read. The two top sins that can be seen gripped beneath the clawed, gloved hand read 'Murderer' and 'Power-mad', but there's definitely a few more beneath there.]

IV. Wildcard - Network

[failed_antichrist]

Hey! Not so loud! [Setsuna shouts, eyes wide as he takes in the figure and black feathers.]

I agree about the way out, but I haven't been able to find shit yet. Tried teleporting, and it doesn't work here. And that Lucifer guy in charge ain't very clear about it, either. [At least, Setsuna didn't like what he had to say.]

[He reads the sins displayed and frowns.] They say 'Murderer' and 'Power-mad.'

prompto argentum / final fantasy xv ( crau - ota )

[burstmodes]

STAND YOUR GROUND II.

[ it's not like he wants to be here, but anything seems better than that mess of a hotel right now. prompto still isn't quite sure if this is just a different version of duplicity or if he's finally snapped—making sense of it feels impossible. waking up in that room and then finding everything the way it was... there's a weird itch under his skin, so rather than stick around to find out if something happens, he decides to check out the theater. the movies he's not very interested in – must be the themes or the weird animated thing, he's not sure – but the arcade feels like nostalgia and draws him in almost immediately.

he'd never been the best at things like this, obviously, but he thinks they're fun. it's an easy way to forget he's in some sort of hellscape that must be an off-shoot of lies and their messed up ideal of an experiment. and of course, the shooter games draw him in first. the zombies aren't too terrible, and it seems easy enough, killing at least half an hour shooting at the screen and hitting every target without so much as blinking. then, out of the corner of his eye, he catches the movement of someone else in there with him, and he slips up, hitting an innocent bystander with his fake bullet and causing the hoard to swarm too fast for him to kill them all. ]

Aww, man. [ he frowns at the screen, at the gun. shaking his head, he turns around to locate the person he'd seen. ] Hey, you wanna play this? I think it's got a multiplayer level.

[ just calm and casual as can be. ]

WILDCARD I. ( recycled from the last tdm because why not )

[ at least the club scene is pretty familiar—or so he's telling himself.

maybe that's why he gravitates toward it a little easier than most other places, finding that he's a little overdressed when he steps foot inside. but the music and the crowd are generally what he's used to, so he doesn't have a problem navigating through the bodies to find the bar. the drink he has goes down a lot smoother than he remembers, and yet, that doesn't stop him from having another. and half of one more after that. he's pretty relaxed then, a bit too much really, scanning the others inside with him before he decides to take his chances and approach someone. he hadn't done this a whole lot in duplicity unless provoked, but he had a lot more experience now. not only that, he might have gotten a little lonely since his arrival, and even if it isn't the best way to cope, it is an easy way to forget for a little while. so, he puts on a brave face – or hopefully one that doesn't say he's had too much to drink – and smiles at the person he "accidentally" bumps into. ]

Hey. [ oh damn. just play it cool. ] You, uh, come here often?

[ ... and he suddenly remembers why he'd never been any good at this. ]

WILDCARD II. NETWORK

[ the following text shows up without context because... well, frankly, he doesn't know if hell deserves context. but also, he can't just be outright be cruel to anyone no matter how confused he is. and anyway, it's not in him, no matter how much weird or bad things happen. ]

so this is really uh new? for me??
anyone else know of a place called duplicity
or was i just on some year long tour before being dropped here?

also i guess the important question:
what's there to really do around here??

[ even in hell, people are bored. apparently. ]

MISCELLANEOUS

[ open to pretty much anything else as well! if anyone's looking for darker prompts, just let me know and i'll write something up! and a repeat from last tdm: prompto is a crau from duplicity and has been there for almost an entire year! so, sex and bad things happening aren't exactly new to him. he also has experience as both a submissive and a dominant!? his canon point is technically post episode prompto before the end of chapter 13. if you have any questions or wanna discuss things, just pm me or hit me up over @ overcasts ]

[gracefullytall]

and hell is normal for the rest of us is it?
little piece of advice, boyo, make nice with the guy in charge.

apparently there’s a demon down at the bar lookin for blond twinks
talking about calling him daddy cool while he bends you over

you could do that

what do you call an embarrassed devil?

Peter Parker | MCU + crau | OTA

[itsnotaonesie]

((I mean heads up kiddos there's gonna be Far From Home spoilers up in here))

ARRIVAL Hey there, Demons. It's me. Ya boi.

[So, fun story. One minute Peter was perched up on a light pole or something, right? He doesn't remember what he was perched on, but he does remember yelling "WHAT THE FU-" at the news very loudly, because, y'know. Reasons. And the next minute? Peter's laying in a strange bed in a creepy room, staring at the ceiling in utter disbelief. Oh, and also a big flood of horrible memories from the last time he woke up in a weird place come-a... y'know, flooding in, and that's... horrible? He'll unpack that one later, just as soon as his head stops throbbing.

After taking a few minutes to sort of assess his situation, he's decided that this totally isn't real. He isn't sure how, but obviously this is just another one of "Mysterio's" illusions. Somehow. Maybe? He ends up flipping everything in the room over trying to find some signs of... of like, drones? Or something? But nope, just a bed and some furniture. He's got nothing, man. He's got nothing and this is starting to feel less and less like a holographic illusion situation and more like another one of those "welcome to Bullshitland" situations. He is not a fan.

Remembering his time in the last fun shithole he was stuck is probably the only thing keeping him from straight up panicking. But just like barely, though. For a moment he wonders if he's somehow been transported back there, which honestly pisses him off more than anything. This cut on his hand and this mysterious blood-note that he finally snatches up to read aren't really helping him be less pissed, but when he realizes that this "blood-note" is actually a "blood-list of all of his horrible sins including that one really really bad one oh God", he kind of chills out a bit. Not really so much in a calming down sort of way as it is a frozen in horror oh God what have I done probably in shock sort of way. On the plus side, at least he's stopped tossing the furniture around?

It maybe takes a while, but after successfully staving off a straight up panic attack, Peter shoves his list into his pocket, tosses the crap he finds in the room into his new duffel bag, rolls his eyes at the dinosaur phone this place has apparently provided him, and makes his way down to the lobby to harass the bored front desk demon.

Which is. Where our journey actually begins, I guess. ]

So. Hell, huh? That's-- that's a thing. That sure is... cool. Um. Super cool. So uh, how do I leave? You guys got some kinda demon subway I can hop on? Any Uber of the Damned apps I can download?

[The desk demon replies by. Not replying. Just kind of staring at Peter in a way that more or less translates into "please god why is this little weirdo talking at me so much whyyyy". Peter doesn't really find this surprising at all. He just sighs, kind of nods and hoists the strap of the duffel bag up a little higher on his shoulder.]

...Not big on chatting, huh. That's, y'know, that's fine. Just uh, toss me a key and I'll get out of your hair, I guess? Thanks, man.

[Once he has acquired said key, he perhaps too calmly pockets it and turns to make his way to his new room, where he will most certainly freak the fuck out and have an absolute panic over a lot of things. Naturally, this is where the classic "distracted dude blindly stumbles into another person" hook comes into play, but this one's special.

Well, okay, it isn't. But he does look like he's about two seconds from upchucking all over the floor if that makes it more uh. Fffffun?]

Reach Up High: Prompt I

[Okay, so, trying to force the door open isn't working, trying to kick it down has proven to be equally useless and has only resulted in a sore ankle for this doofus. Sooo, guess now there's just a couple of weirdos stuck in a creepy torture room with some knives. This isn't really how Peter had planned to spend his day, but then he hadn't really planned on ending up in Hell in the first place. But hey, sometimes you just gotta learn to roll with the bullshit that life throws at you, y'know? It's just that the bullshit this time is a little more fucked up than Peter's used to dealing with, but the instructions were pretty simple, at least. Carve some words into each other and you can leave the room! Not super hard, right?

Except that the idea of hurting another person on purpose is kind of horrible, and Peter doesn't seem too jazzed about having to do so. He doesn't seem too jazzed about sharing his entire list of sins either, so he's snatched his up, and is now awkwardly fiddling with one of the knives while he glances between his list and the other person in the room. ]

...I mean, I don't really wanna do this? But I'm also not too eager to find out what this uh, "encouragement" is gonna be, sooo... I mean, up to you? I can take being cut up a little, but uh...

[But awkward shrugging time, he's not so sure he can bring himself to carve into someone else? Maybe if they're a total douche. We'll see.]

Wildcard

(Y'know, where shit gets wild. Toss me whatever and I'll roll with it, PM this account if you wanna idk ask a thing or plan a shit. Character is under 18 just FYI. Go bananas my dudes.)

wildcard; text @imimmortal

[gracefullytall]

big man with the little dick
damn
autocorrect
that should’ve been penis
anywho he slipped me your number
he’s tellin everyone you’re here for a good time
and that’s me toning down his words bc it was just plain filthy what horn-y red was saying

[azuremoon]

((As FE:TH is a fairly new canon, let me know if you'd like me to avoid spoilers!))

Stand Your Ground I

[Sometimes, hell just doesn't seem that hellish compared to life. Even Dimitri knows that having thoughts like that is embarrassingly dramatic, but it's true. Here, at last, his weary mind doesn't tease him with visions of those he's lost. None of them would be in a place like this — none of them did anything to deserve their fates, not like he has. So while he doesn't doubt that his time here will be unpleasant (to say the least), in some ways, it's a bit of a relief to have to answer for the things he's done.

At least he has enough sense to keep it to himself.

With an attitude like that, it's unsurprising that he throws himself into the chores he's been given. Sadly for Dimitri, his ridiculous strength is no easier to control in hell than it was back home, and he can be found all over the hotel failing at basic chores due to breaking cleaning tools and items that he's been asked to move. While he'll stubbornly insist on being given new chores by any demon that approaches and scolds him, for his fellow sinners, he'll instead say:]

I don't suppose you know of anything that needs to be done around here that requires less... delicacy?



Stand Your Ground II

[All of this technology is utterly beyond Dimitri. Thankfully, now that he's settling in a bit he has better control of himself and he manages to not destroy any of the games that he's investigating. Granted, he doesn't actually play any of them either. Instead, he lurks nearby people who do decide to play them, humming thoughtfully to himself.]

I see... are you controlling the image on the screen, then?



Reach Up High II

[Dimitri's never been one to purposefully burden strangers with his problems. Even with his friends, he always did his best to keep his mental state to himself (and he succeeded for quite some time). As such, he's quite uncomfortable being asked to share with someone he doesn't even know. His posture is closed-off as he's ushered into the room, arms folded and head lowered. He won't sit down, but he will glance up at the unfortunate soul that gets shoved in with him. After a brief, awkward silence, he sighs and decides to at least speak to the poor bastard.]

Is this sort of arrangement standard, here? I don't see how airing personal business with a stranger could help anyone.


Wildcard:

[Throw anything at me! For now, at least, Dimitri will be trying very hard to redeem himself so he'll be easy to find.]

[tannic]

But isn't the most exquisite form of torture being forced to reveal things you would rather die than say out loud?

[Say, for instance, circumstances such as the revolution and your crush's imminent death forcing you to say something immensely unwise like "I am one of them" causing your untimely demise at the hands of the National Guard. So actually, he did literally die before revealing his secrets. You know, as one does.]

That is what confession exists for, after all. I may not have been a good Catholic, but I was Catholic all the same and I have been told that confessing your sins absolves you of them.

[Well, after you do a few hail marys.]

nathan young | misfits | open

[gracefullytall]

network:

Have I died? I don't fucking think so.

[ He's done a lot of thinking the last few hours, bless his poor head, and he's come to the superior conclusion that the storm gave someone the power to transform the world. Demons and devils and all that other religious shite was added for flavor. Something to spice up this ‘hell’. It’s a holiday. From what, you say?

Life. It's a helluva ride and they’re all getting a much needed breather. ]

I'm universally popular and well liked.
Who would want to kill me?

[ Don't answer. He's clearly having a long overdue internal discussion over the network. ]

Help me, I'm boreddddd. :( :(

[ Seriously. Nathan is antsy. He's probably walking past you right now while typing this. Curly brown hair perfectly tousled and hips swaying. ]

If a bear and a shark had a fight, who would win?

Serious response only pls.

ooc:

[ Nathan is from the very beginning of the second season of the show Misfits. He’s just learned he’s immortal and has the ability to see the dead though his canon point means he hasn’t figured that last bit out yet. I’d love to do network stuff and it can stay text or flow into action because I’m easy and good with whatever. Open to m/m and m/f for smutty stuff! Pm this journal or reexamine with questions. ]

@setsunam; text

[failed_antichrist]

wait! are we dead? i hadn't thought of that yet!

Edelgard von Hresvelg | FE: 3H

[crimsonflower]

(Since FE:3H is a relatively new series please let me know if I need to avoid spoilers)

1. Arrival

[Most of this technology is beyond Edelgard, and while she is curious she does her best to skirt around most of it to avoid looking the fool. However if it's one thing she can't resist it's the jukebox. A funny contraption with lights playing music is enough to catch her attention. She spends an odd amount of time fiddling with the machine. Frustration growing on her face as she cannot seem to operate it correctly or find any songs she might be interested. Well, perhaps she'd not hate Danse Macabre, but she's having a difficult time getting to it.]

Very well then! Keep your secrets!

[In a huff she backs away from the music machine while glaring at it only to bump into... you!]

2. Stand Your Ground I

[While Edelgard, as a noble, is unused to manual labor she doesn't refuse to do it. She accepts that her place is here after her crimes against the Church and her former classmates. And so without fuss she agrees to start pulling boards off the windows. With just her bare hands and no tools she's able to yank them clean off — however the force required for that means if you're too close behind her she nearly hits you with it!

The other option is to find her struggling to reach a higher up window (she's roughly 5'2). Mock her, offer your shoulders, or maybe to spot her while she's on a ladder.]

3. Reach Up High I

[Before her partner in the room can protest Edelgard takes up one of the knives. Her small hand turns over the blade before spinning it around and offering the handle to them. Without flinching she insists trying to push it into their hand.]

You may start. I will not hold a grudge.

[She also won't say that she wishes the other party to go first so that she may feel no guilt in returning the favor. A clever way to hide a bit of softness in her heart.]

4. Wildcard

[Feel free to make your own prompt! Edelgard is a curious sort and will be eager to learn more about her surroundings so she shouldn't be difficult to run into at all.]

Arrival

[ouijahands]

[ ooc: I am in the middle of playing this game so I don't know EVERY spoiler yet but ye hello welcome to hell ]

[ Klaus notices the girl at the jukebox having trouble with it and slides up to her just in time for her to get frustrated and go to leave. He's too close, though, and she almost bumps into him. He catches her with his hands, lightly, not wanting to upset her more. ]

Hey, you need some help? This dumb machine can be a huge pain. None of the music is really good, but we can find something, huh?

Setsuna Mudou | Angel Sanctuary | OTA (cw: bullying, violence, possible talk about murder, abuse)

[failed_antichrist]

I. Reach Up High - Prompt II
Highly annoyed at being grabbed, Setsuna tries to fight at first, but the entire thing happens too fast. One second he's in the hall, minding his own business, and then he's in a plush room. Actually, he prefers this room to the torture rooms.

His defiance falters a small bit at the thought this room looks inviting, rather nice. Offer up fears, or bad memories. That doesn't sound so hard. Not that he's used to just sharing, or keen on the idea, considering.

Sheepishly, he turns to the other person and suggests, "Why don't you go first?" No, those aren't manners he's showing.

II. Follow Me Down - Prompt II
Setsuna was no stranger to envy, or rage, but due to his experience, he could withstand the urges and talk himself down. He did, for a while, long after the ghost of a touch he never noticed, on a day he couldn't place.

He didn't even notice he fought bubbling anger until he saw someone with a bottle of high grade scotch.

Without even a thought to who the person was - they might have even been someone he knew - Setsuna lashed out a hand to grab at the person's wrist and coldly asked, "Where did you get that? Sharing is caring and all that."

Fuck, he hated the way he sounded, though. He sounded like the bullies from high school.

III. Wildcard


Closed to Faye - Theater "date"
As soon as the Mares seemed to have faded, Setsuna hit Faye up and told her about the new movie theater. He didn't even care about the movies they had playing, but after the terrible experience, he just wanted to have fun with another person, and watching a movie with some popcorn, maybe hitting the arcade, it all sounded good.

He wasn't just happy she agreed to go, but that she was able to respond and they could start putting some of the bad memories away. He knew better, though, it was Hell. Chances were, this was hardly the end of their suffering, so best to enjoy what chances they had.

Setsuna waited for her at the theater in the arcade, play a couple of games by himself, or with people, if they were interested. He saw her before anything else, and beamed.

"Faye!" he called out and ended the game. For once, he didn't care if he lost.

"What movie you wanna see?" he asked as he ran over to her. He owed her an explanation of his dreams, too, but he didn't want to ruin the night early. Leave that for later, assuming she remembered. For now, he just wanted to smile and enjoy someone's company.

[OOC: Will do [, (, past, present, prose, whichever is most comfortable - I will follow. Feel free to contact me here rknrljeannedarc/Discord: midnightcat#8900. And feel free to hit me up with whatever.

For the sharing prompt, please read warnings for this series and keep in mind Setsuna's canon. I don't want to put anything in here that might make someone uncomfortable. If there's anything specific you want your character to learn, or not learn, please let me know.

For the envy prompt, yes, the hold on Setsuna is likely to break after a time, but he broke spells in canon just to avenge people. There's still time for a fist fight, or just smacking some sense into him. If desired for worse from him, let me know. He'll hate himself later and overtly apologize to the victim, mind.]

wildcard! (sorry this took forever)

[bountyhead]

What nightmares the Mares left in their wake had done a number on Faye. She resorted to locking herself away in her room and kept distant from those she frequently spoke to. But when Setsuna reached out, ever-persistent in his suggestion to see a movie, it didn't take very much for her to weigh consideration and decidedly meet up with him.

After all, he was the one to stick with her during whatever the hell it was that blocked people from her cognizance. She was still in a haze over it. That feeling of complete desolation would come in shadowed waves that would continue to haunt her for weeks. But Setsuna's kindness rang louder than that. She needed to see him.

Faye happens to walk past the arcade at first, her eyes searching past the crowd for a familiar head of honey-blonde hair. When she hears her name, she stops and turns to see the source running over. Immediately, she smiles, brimming with warmth. His question pulls her gaze over to the list of movies where she studies it a moment before shrugging.

"The only one that sounds any good is Bedazzled, so how about that one?"

Styx

[styxtoshadows]

Stand Your Ground I

Loud moans are coming from one of the rooms in Knife Suite. Must mean the medication's wearing off. Styx hardly emerges from his suite and when he does he has the temper of a bear with a toothache. He's especially impatient with people who might not see him and might be standing in his way while he tries to get some dinner.

"Move your butt, human."

Reach Up High I

This. Again. Styx doesn't even try the door. He just taps his foot impatiently waiting for the next poor bastard to be thrown into his closet.

Reach Up High II

"...so, long story short I slept with her. Come to think of it she looked an awful lot like you do..."

A drop of blood falls from Styx's nose. He wipes it away and looks at his hand, offended.

"Alright. Your turn."

Follow Me Down I & II

Styx is back on Frenzy and feeling great. He does come very close to punching out a couple of goblin-like demons but for the time being he merely grits his teeth and tolerates them. Anyone else who seems to be itching to get stabbed probably will be though. He's also up for other shenanigans.

Later, a hooded figure infects him with envy and everything goes to hell. More to hell.

Humans. Humans everywhere. As if they didn't own the world they act like they own hell too. Everything is human sized, not that Styx has trouble using it, it's just the principle.

Styx's scowl deepens and before the end of the week he's stealing people's stuff. Not that he needs it, he just needs reassurance that he's faster than them, more clever than they are.

Stand your ground

[savedbyasong]

Shion was stood, tools in hand staring at the door he was meant to be fixing. It wasn't that he was being lazy, despite what the demon who had hit him earlier had said. It was that he genuinely didn't know what he was doing. And no one seemed to be in the mood to be asked questions from a boy who should know better.

He's still tired, even if the living nightmares have faded sleep is still difficult. So much has happened. As it was he was so focused trying not to get lost in his thoughts that he doesn't see the figure approaching until it is too late and he is in the way.

"Sorry." Terrified red eyes flicker up at the person. He's not a demon, Shion doesn't think, but he's not human and he's definitely angry.

Héctor | Coco | OTA | cw: altered mental states, probably eventually blood, Major Movie Spoilers

[unpocoloco]

Arrival + Stand Your Ground I

He feels as though he's been scraped raw, inside and out. A nightmare of fire on his flesh and another before where he felt that burning and sickness in his guts. His head aches bad enough that he wonders if he actually did blackout and crack his head. One touch to his front teeth confirms that. He's missing one. He got sick as hell, dreamt of it, and the headache is from crashing down into the dirt road hard enough to knock a tooth out. That meant Ernesto should be nearby.

"Nnn- Nesto...? Ernesto?" With a groan he sits up and he knows then that something's wrong. A single bed, but that's not the problem-- they were a pair of músicos on the road, it wasn't pleasant but it saved them money to share. No, it's the rest of the room that's the problem.

In all the months he'd been on tour, the hotels all bleeding together in his mind, this is the first one he'd been sure he was entirely new to. No sensible place would put up, in a guest room, such a blatant depiction of hell. Red decor, that, he didn't need to see the note in order for the shiver to run down his spine, but there it is. Lying, theft, con-artistry, indulgence in impure substances, neglect of prayer and church attendance... okay so he wasn't a saint, but most of those were one-off things, and some were plain untrue. He doesn't recall turning a blind eye to anything. There were worse sins besides.

But there is a worse sin there on the list. It's enough to fill his heart with dread, making it sink under the heavy weight of it. Abandoned wife and child. It's there, written in blood. Even as he hears himself moan with fear, "No... no, no, no..."

He makes it to the hall, heart racing. Down to the lobby where-- "Madre de Dios...!"-- a monster, a demon, a hallucination surely, sits. He rushes past, out the door, praying now of all times for mercy. The hellfire reflects back in his wide eyes.

He stares, numb with horror, right up until another demon grips his wrist (causing him to cry out) and shoves a broom into his hand. He's told to get sweeping, and almost as though in thanks for not being stabbed with the broom, he stumbles over to do so. Badly.

Reach Up High I

He wishes he'd thought to beg and bargain before being shoved and locked in the room. He would have, unquestionably, but it wasn't until the door was closed and locked that he'd really seen what was in there. He mutters, Ay Dios, ay Santa Maria... but for the moment, any actual prayer escapes him. He grew up with nuns, how could he forget, he asks himself, but his panic continues to hide it all away.

And then someone else is shoved in. The papers appear, bringing the urge to snatch his back and hide it away. Then come the knives. And then the voice. His stomach turns and he looks up to meet the eyes of the one who's joined him.

"... Hola," He croaks in a voice that doesn't sound like his own.

Follow Me Down II

His guitar came with him to this... place. Somehow. His guitar, and some other things, including a change of clothes out of the charro suit. It was a miserable reminder but a relief all the same. At least there was still music in hell. The thought regularly summons all manner of thing between a laugh and a sob.

In any other place, a brush with a figure like that wouldn't go unnoticed, but here there are worse things. He doesn't even notice the difference really. He already feels worn down, hollowed, depleted. But eventually, it takes him like a fever. Anyone reaching for the jukebox is stopped as he frantically begins to plead.

"Let me play for you, I can do much better for you than that old thing! You'll listen to me won't you? Please, anything you want! Just a little while! A bit of your time, please--"

Anyone dodging around or passing by is met with the same persistence.

"Wait! Wait! Don't go! Let me play for you! I can write you a song! You'll like that, right? Please, just stay for a moment, don't walk away..." His voice cracks in his frenzy, a desperate smile plastered on that sits just shy of a pained grimace.

[styxtoshadows]

Styx is deep in the throes of envy when he gets stopped by the miserable guy with the guitar. The goblin tries dodging around him with no luck. Maybe it's his short legs.

"You're...what? Some kind of bard?" He backs up a little, feeling like he's in the presence of a madman. "What have you got to cry about anyway, here surrounded by your own kind, always getting things your own way human? Ugh, even the fucking chairs here were made for you."

Dodger | Original Character | OTA (cw for drugs, violence and Dodger being a creep.)

[smokedout]

Arrival

It takes all of ten minutes for Dodger to make himself comfortable in the bar. Outwardly, there's no sign that being in Hell affects him. Honestly, he's a bit underwhelmed. He'd expected... more, from the descriptions he'd been given. Feels a bit like a slap on the wrist, especially with free drinks involved. So he'll be found lounging in the corner, chain-smoking and kicking back shots of whiskey.

It is Hell, though, so he figures no one will mind a bit of mischief. How many times can he play Highway to Hell on the jukebox before someone catches on?

Stand Your Ground II

Dodger isn't really one for movies; sure, he likes them, but they're not something he really gets into on his own. More of a group activity. What he can get behind, though, is the arcade. He's taken an interest in the zombie-shooting game - mostly because the gun is much easier to get his head around than the buttons on other machines. He's actually doing amazingly at it, and it doesn't seem like he's blinked since he started.

If no one stops him, though, this game is going to be occupied all night.

Reach Up High I

Dodger honestly doesn't even try to get out of the room. He gets the concept, from the beginning; it isn't the first time he's been trapped for compliance. If there's anything that really gets a reaction from him, it's seeing his list of sins... there's a cock of his brow as he watches the list appear and grow longer, and longer, and longer... his head turns to watch it trail off of the table. Then, with a contemplative sigh, he takes a knife and turns it over idly in his hand.

"Are we drawing straws, or do you want to get carved first?"

There's something unnervingly calm about his approach; he's used to this sort of thing, and that much is obvious from every aspect of his body language.

Reach Up High II

"...No."

Dodger leans back in his chair, cocking his head to the side as his eyes dart around the room, trying to decide exactly where he should focus to address the disembodied voice. That's really all he has to say on the matter; his fears and memories are private, valuable information and they're staying that way.

After a moment, though, his eyes slide over to size up his companion... more than anything, to gauge if they're going to join in his strike or cave first.

Follow Me Down I

It's no surprise whatsoever that Dodger gets his hands on Frenzy the moment he learns about it. Not sleeping makes it pretty easy to work for his next hit, but the side effects are a killer... he can barely focus any time someone walks too close, holding back the urge to feel them up. For now he's positioned himself behind the club's bar, to at least give himself a barrier and keep his head clear. Which, unfortunately, means that anyone not using a coaster is getting bitched at.

"Hey." He calls someone's attention, leaning close enough to smell the smoke, gasoline and alcohol in his breath. "I'm losing my fucking mind back here. You wanna waste a couple minutes on the stage?"

Misc

[Feel free to throw random starters at me - Dodger is not very friendly but I am! Click here for some general information about Dodger and catch-all warnings because he is a... particularly trigger-heavy character.]

[knucklesdirty]

Francis doesn't indulge in Frenzy too much- only when someone offers- but he does like the club. And it's not like there's a hell of a lot to do around here. So if he's not at the little archery range he and Clint managed to rig in the gym, then he's here. He just ordered a drink, finishing off a glass of cheap whiskey.

At the question he shrugs his shoulders. Purple shirt, black jeans, but he polishes off the last of his drink and sets it on the counter.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Sure, why not." Francis was a little bit easy, not that he advertises it. And even if the guy's breath smelled a little like a molotov cocktail, he wasn't bad looking, just rough around the edges. Which was sort of what he went for, anyway. Francis was tall, a little lanky, but with archer's shoulders and a certain fondness for the color purple.

Jemma Simmons || Agents of SHIELD || OTA

[bravejemma]

Stand Your Ground I
[Things eventually quiet down -- no dead astronaut or version of her that looked like they'd crawled out of a sewer drain. Jemma didn't take the drug, though part of her wishes she had. The exhaustion is bone deep, but as the days go by it lightens as she pays that sleep deficit off little by little.

If she's bothered by being put to work, she doesn't make it known. It's a decent opportunity to ask questions about the place.]


Stand Your Ground II
[The movie theatre is a bit incongruous, what with the rain of fire and blood. There's something charming about it, too, it wouldn't be out of place in Soho or wherever trendy sorts hung out these days. She looks at the movie choices and times, unsure of what to think.]

Well, this is certainly... eclectic.


Reach Up High II
No, no, not bloody well again!

[The first time Jemma got stuck in a locked room here, she'd wound up with a twitchy vampire who somehow knew Fitz and carving the matching sin of "lying" on their backs. Not exactly the BFF tattoo she'd envisioned, and with not a BFF to boot. But that room hadn't been as nice as this one seemed. And talking... was not ideal, but at least it wouldn't end in a physical scar and possible tetanus. She's not particularly interested in whatever motivation might be provided.]

Roshambo to see who goes first?

[She's not without sympathy, and honestly isn't the worst person to have to confess something to.]


Wildcard
[Want something else entirely? Set it up or PM me or bother me on plurk at lizimajig.]

Stand Your Ground II

[deaddrop]

[Natasha found herself here looking for some quiet, such as she can get it. The idea of sitting in a dark room for two hours, with just the movie providing light and sound, seemed like a good idea.

Maybe it will even be distracting.

Distracting might be all it is.]

Tactful way to put it.

Nekane Adomaitis | oc | CW: references to past torture

[opheliaafterdeath]

Arrival; text

Need information on why we're here. Already heard the bullshit one so you can skip it.

[Hello to you too, Nekane.]


Reach Up High - 1

[Nekane had to be dragged into this kicking and screaming, more with the kicking then the screaming. They detest demons with every fiber of their being and being told where to go by one of them already made their easy to trigger temper skyrocket. It was made just the more worse when they're locked in a room with someone else and what must be done is laid out before them.

It is not the first time someone would carve things into their skin with blades. But if Nekane had their way, it would be the last. The detective fixes their "partner" a look.]

Fuck no.

[Satan can be disappointed all he likes. Nekane does not give a shit.]


Reach Up High - 2

[The detective is probably not the most stubborn sinner brought to hell but they are certainly trying. Once again dragged into the room to share a little something with others, Nekane listens carefully to what is being said and the effects telling a lie or holding back has. And when it is their turn again--]

Nearly drowned in a fucking kiddie pool because someone held me under while on a job.

[Nekane flinches when the blinding headache sets in again. While these are true anecdotes from the cases they have worked on, it is not what Satan is looking for. Evidently they seem determined enough to lie and sidestep any questions or comments that reveal anything about them, even at the group's determent.]

[ooc: character information on Nekane can be found here.]

Reach Up High 2 Electric Boogaloo

[unpocoloco]

[It's weirdly tame, this whole 'sitting in a circle to talk' thing. This place is unquestionaly the worst thing that's ever happened to him but he's amazed he hasn't actually been flayed "alive" and thrown into fire yet. If he can stall that forever, he will. They just have to talk. Painless, simple.

Or not so painless, as the ache in his skull sets in. His breath hisses through his clenched teeth and his head bows. There's no real recovery so much as him just adjusting to the pain of it.]

...What the heck's a kiddie pool?

[Nailed it on the sympathy there. Ouch.]

I mean, that's horrible. How old were you?