penancememes | TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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

The hotel is undergoing some improvements already! Thanks to the new arrival of sinners, hell has a burst of energy and growth available to it. One demand of the demonic staff was the addition of elevators. It gets tiresome having to take the stairs all the time. They'll eagerly implore you to help them test out this new system, even going so far as shoving you right in the nearest available elevator with whoever else is in the vicinity.

Unfortunately, things aren't quite up to par just yet. Press a button and you'll find your elevator gets jammed between floors with very little chance of escape. Oh, oops. This is entirely the hotel's fault and will be fixed as soon as possible. In the meantime, enjoy your company and try to relax a bit.

It's definitely a high priority repair for staff, promise.

Prompt II

Maybe you were looking for the hotel gym to work off some stress or maybe you just took a wrong left somewhere, but instead of what you were expecting, you stumble across what appears to be a very well stocked torture room. There are tables with straps to hold down victims, chains falling from the walls and ceilings to bind them upright, and absolutely every possible torture device you can think of. There's even an iron maiden proudly displayed in the corner. Besides that, there's the normal supply of whips, knives, and any other equipment someone could want to inflict the most delicious pain available.

You're free to check it out or give it a go. You're also free to back out of the room very slowly, but with the knowledge this space will probably come into play at some point.

Oh, and a tip: the gym is to the right of this room.

REACH UP HIGH

Prompt I
Warnings: cutting, blood, torture.

After settling in, it really is only a matter of time until your demonic hosts expect some participation. You can try and shirk the responsibility, of course. But eventually, you may find yourself trapped in a room just off the kitchen that's curiously full of knives. 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 becomes apparently what you're supposed to do soon enough when someone else is eventually shoved in with you. Both of your lists of in will appear in the room on a nearby table 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 one of your sins into the other's flesh. Help them in their journey to be candid with everyone they 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

Well, that last punishment was a bit heavy, wasn't it? Or maybe you somehow skipped out on it all together. Fortunately for you, there's a less horrible one to get potentially wrapped up in along the way. You'll hear that all too familiar voice ringing in your ears as you explore the halls of the hotel or poke your head outside.

"Do one genuinely kind deed for someone and we'll consider it a step in the right direction for you."

This can be helping one of your fellow sinners out with a task or helping them find something. It can be a shoulder or a listening ear towards someone who needs it. You can even offer to help the staff clean up a bit around the hotel, or help a poor hell beast pup out of the hellfire around Penance. Careful though, even they have pretty sharp teeth and an aggressive attitude. It doesn't matter what you do as long as it helps someone else out.

Oh, and one more thing! The longer you resist, the more aches you'll notice. It'll start with a mild headache and escalate from there. You can wait it out, of course, and pills may help you cope with the pain if you really can't be bothered to do one nice deed. Although Satan is still very disappointed in you.

FOLLOW ME DOWN

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

With all the new sinners arriving, this feels like a call for celebration! The bar will be lit up with activity. 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.

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 you've presumably done your atonement for the day, yes? So cut back a bit.

Ask the staff demons very nicely and you may even get less scrupulous drugs. Things that will convince your fellow damned souls to tell the truth or perhaps even things that will make someone so enamored with you, they won't take their eyes off you. How dare they give you the cold shoulder earlier, right?

There are also tables set up for all sorts of gambling and various bar games to entertain yourself with.

Relax and enjoy your first night in hell. 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 kinks.

Much like the hotel improvements inside, all these new sinners seem to have given hell the ability to open a new building just outside the hotel. It happens to be quite a happening sex club from the looks of it. Everything is bathed in obnoxious neon lights when you first enter the establishment. There's plenty of space for dancing, and poles for those so inclined. Mood music fills the air, along with something a little too sweet.

As tacky as it is, something may pull you to stay.

Whether experienced lover or total virgin, once pulled in, you may not want to leave for a while.

There are back rooms people can go for a bit of private fun, full of every type of toy and restraint that you could possibly desire to play with. There's also a rather large room with a massive bed that seems to be fit for any orgies you may want to try to arrange. Hell's not judging and may be encouraging a bit.

There are aphrodisiac laced food and drinks available around the club as well, but these will most likely be marked. If one slips through, ah well. Why else are you here if not for a bit of fun? The drugs will only help that out.

Of course outside, this club is clearly marked for what it is and anyone who would rather avoid it are free to do so.

MISC.

Thank you for checking out

penancerp's first TDM! Please note that all prompts are opt-out and players are more than welcome to come up with their own ideas while exploring the hotel and hell outside.

All that we ask is that you remember to put clear warnings on any potentially triggering content! Warn for sex, including underage or incest, violence, abuse, non-con, etc. Please put these warning in a visible place, either by the prompt itself or in the subject line. This isn't just a suggestion but a requirement to participate in the game.

Now that all that's out of the way, we hope you have fun! Feel free to ask questions under the appropriate comment before or on the FAQ page. Since this is the game's first TDM, we are also very interested in hearing any suggestions you have or ways to improve the game experience.

Since this is a big event, Lucifer himself will be taking a few questions via his device for anyone so inclined down below.

As a final note, don't forget that reserves are open now until May 1st as well!

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code bases by tricklet

Threaded | Flat

ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴜᴘ ʜɪɢʜ ɪ (ᴄᴡ: ᴄᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ)

[ It could have been a very normal, mundane kitchen if not for the fact that, like so many places this Hell has to offer, there's a positively delightful number of sharp edged instruments within easy reach. Nothing truly exotic, or as conveniently varied as the torture room that was thoroughly perused earlier, but it'll do.

Crowley's alone long enough to start to get impatient at the delay, whatever 'torment' he's supposed to be enduring here, boredom seems like the least entertaining possibility, but then he's joined by another guest, and the instructions they're provided with put him in a much better mood.

To anyone without an eye for such things as powerful demons in the skin of a human, he might seem like nothing more than a well-dressed businessman, leaning oh so casually against the counter next to the knives, except that the list that was on the counter is now in one of his hands - without any motion explaining how it got there - one of the knifes is in the other, and he's skimming through those sins with a look of mild interest. His own extensive list sits untouched, he's seen that already and clearly couldn't care less if anyone else does. ]

Well well, haven't we been naughty. [ He glances up with a pleased smirk. ] Any requests before we get started?

ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴜᴘ ʜɪɢʜ ɪɪ

[ 'Help' someone? Ugh. If there's something he stands to gain out of it. He would much prefer to return to the torture, which so far has been child's play, more like flirting than actual torment in his opinion. It's quite possible that's why he's been singled out for a task that's less to his taste.

But it's not worth the literal headache to oppose either. If Crowley's good at anything, it's picking his battles. Oh he's keeping score, but today is not the day to try to settle any of them.

He's not as concerned about the fire as some would be, mundane flames are hardly a problem, so one might find him untangling a hell pup from a gnarled, spiny-looking bush near the hotel. Of course it's trying to snap at him the whole time, which he only responds to with something that could almost seem like affection, tutting at it as it attempts to gnaw on his fingers.

Until it sets glistening black eyes on someone perhaps unfortunate enough to have stepped closer to investigate all the snarling, and that means a new, perhaps softer target to lunge at. ]

That's a feisty one. Mind the fangs, I think he might be venomous.

[ Crowley may or may not be inclined to help. Two good deeds in one day might be overdoing it. ]

ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ (ᴄᴡ: ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ)

[ Why yes, Crowley will take a drink.

He's sipping at some passable whiskey while he casually eyes other patrons at the bar, fellow newcomers filing in to take up the seats around him, most with various expressions of a harried sense of relief at being offered a distraction from their current predicament. Perhaps coming recently from a delightful exercise involving knives. Of course it's ludicrous, to offer tormented souls anything like a respite as relaxing as this, but considering that the alternative would give him far less to work with, Crowley isn't in a mood to air complaints too loudly.

Anyone who chooses to sit next to him, if they're hesitant to partake of what the bar has to offer, will have a glass of whiskey set in front of them to match his own, whether or not they ordered it. ]

Lovely party so far, isn't it?

Arrival

The shock of falling made him jerk out of the nightmares but the headache was the worst part of waking. Steve had jackknifed up into a sitting position on waking and his head exploded in pain. He cradled his head with both hands, hissing as he tried to deal with the unexpected agony. Steve hadn't had a headache so bad in . . . in a really long time.

Eventually he managed to push the pain away enough to take in his surroundings, and he froze. Steve was out of the bed in a heartbeat and into the hall, a torn-off door and a hole in the wall left in his wake as he crashed down the corridor. Whatever was going on, he had people he needed to find and he needed to find them fast.

((OOC: He'll be crashing through doors and walls and anything else standing in his way looking for familiar faces. Care to try and distract him?))

Stand Your Ground: Prompt I

Getting shoved into places with strangers wasn't Steve's idea of fun, but it wasn't the first time such a thing had happened. Normally he'd be able to take things in stride but at the moment that just wasn't possible, not when he'd suddenly woken up in Hell. he stood quietly as far from the other passengers as possible, especially after the elevator stalled. For the moment.

If the elevator didn't start moving soon, he might well be forced to take matters into his own hands and make it go.

Reach Up High: Prompt II

Helping people was second nature to Steve and he grasped the prompt with both hands. It didn't matter who was telling him to do it, or whether it worked to help balance his sins, he wasn't going to stop being him for anyone. It was a relief really. Helping staff, helping other prisoners, it didn't matter. It was satisfying for its own sake, and it helped him forget for a moment or two all he'd lost.

"Can I help you with that?"

Wildcard

Steve is coming CRAU from Zhautas and he's not going to be very happy being jerked out of that place without goodbyes, but he's still Steve! If you don't see what you like for prompts just tag in with something or PM and I'll write something for you!

Edited 2019-04-25 01:10 (UTC)

Arrival

"The fuck?"

Styx is completely disoriented. No knives, waking up in a bed, what is this? He only pauses to take the blackberry and some hotel soap before edging out into the corridor, which turns out to be a nightmare for anyone who wants things to hide behind. Styx very much wants things to hide behind, since his kind is technically vermin. Luckily, humans so very rarely look down, at least in his world.

Maybe this one's a little different. Feel free to notice the green man hiding in the towel cart.

Reach Up High I (CW: Cutting)

Congratulations, some lucky person is now sharing a room full of knives with a wiry, battered looking goblin snorting at something.

"Come over here and see this load of bullshit! 'Know that honesty is a good place to start on your road to redemption-' seriously, now. And then- oh shit, I knew the Inquisition were pervs. Well we're not doing that. You any good at playing dead?"

Reach Up High II

Styx winces and clasps his head. The voices are back. As much as he tried to laugh it off, he's suddenly had all the effects of Amber withdrawal hit him at once.

"I'm doing it already" he grumbles to no one in particular. In this case, he means stealing mints from the kitchen and breaking into random rooms to leave one on each pillow. Maybe turning the sheets down if there's time.

"This better work." He's stealthy and quick but maybe not enough to avoid the occupant coming back to find him. Or maybe he's ducked under the bed, really quick like.

Edited 2019-04-25 00:44 (UTC)

I. Arrival

[The list of sins were not a surprise. Murder, conquest and violence, the sort of things that spread her reputation across Essos and influenced how Westeros viewed her. Whether they wanted her to regard her actions with more remorse, Daenerys didn't completely shy away from what and who she was. She had deeper thoughts and fears, but she refused to think of them now, not at the prompting of whoever brought her here.

Stepping into the hall, there were no signs of where she was. This wasn't the stone halls of Dragonstone or the grave palaces of Essos. This was something that she hadn't seen before, lights without candles but still failed to illuminate the hallways, floors completely covered with carpet, and endless doors.

She peered around, looking for anyone else. Without her guards and dragons, she was more wary for whatever threat might be lurking around. When she finally saw a figure, she held back from approaching them.]

Where are we?

II. Follow Me Down - Prompt I

[The party is gaudy in the same way Qarth had been decadent. It wasn't something Daenerys felt entirely comfortable with, no matter how she surrounded herself with the trappings of queen. Likely it was her upbringing in extreme poverty and then nomadic existence with Drogo. This seemed...forced.

There were drugs (that was what they were called, right?) Drinks as well, but she had long ago learned not to trust something simply handed to her. Keeping away from the bar and drugs, Daenerys preferred to circle the room and gather her bearings, as well as observing those that were trapped here with her.]

What do you think of all of this?

CW: Drugs and alcohol at least mentioned in all prompts.

ARRIVAL

Klaus is no stranger to death, to absolutely the weirdest shit happening, or even to dying. But this isn't like the last time. He's not yet sure if that's a curse or a blessing, but he's pretty much fine without the awkward washed out encounter he had with his dear ol' pop in the afterlife barbershop. Afterlife hotel? Well, it's already slightly better. He can ignore that pesky sin list or whatever it is and just wing it. He wings things all the time! It will be fine.

A little bit of exploring leads to the hotel bar, and that is definitely his speed. Afterlife with booze? Sounds like he lucked out, honestly. Okay, sure, the music selection isn't exactly great. And the guy at the hotel front desk was...well, he was not a looker, to put it mildly. But hey, free booze! Probably!

He's pouring some brightly coloured concoction when he notices he's not alone. He looks up and flashes a grin. "Got enough for two. I read once that it's not good to drink alone, so, looks like we can help each other out. What's your poison?"

STAND YOUR GROUND I

Klaus doesn't have a destination in mind when he gets into the elevator. He's just curious. And still a little tipsy from the bar downstairs, which is a good way to be, as far as he's concerned. He has headphones on that he got from somewhere, so he's not really paying attention to the other person that gets on with him. He nods at them absently and goes back to lip synching.

Then, the elevator lurches. There's a screech and a jerking halt. Klaus has good balance if he's sober, but he isn't, and he was caught off guard. He's also too thin thanks to being a junkie for a decade and change, so he stumbles over his boots and trips right into the elevator's other occupant.

He slides the headphones off to hang around his neck, though they're still blaring some annoying pop cover of some hell-themed song (any port in a storm, okay). He looks faintly embarrassed for about .5 seconds before recovering.

"I don't suppose you know a good electrician we can call, do you?"

FOLLOW ME DOWN I

Partying is second nature to Klaus, so it's really only natural that he'd find his way here. Of course, Klaus prides himself on being able to party anywhere, and why would hell (or whatever this really is) be any different? If there's a party, he is so there.

He can be found dancing, blissed out, eyes half shut, no care at all for who he happens to be dancing with. He's more than willing to dance as far or as close as you please; he's easy, try him. (No, really.)

He can also be found sweet talking some demon to give him the good stuff. He's successful, but he's not stingy. He'll share, if you're nice to him. Or maybe if you're not? Guess that depends.

He can also be found at the bar, drink in hand, leaning over to talk to the bartender, who clearly does not need or want his attention. Distract him before he gets himself in trouble.

FOLLOW ME DOWN II

Much like the party scene, sex clubs are not an entirely new experience to Klaus. They aren't his favourite haunt or anything, but he can get down. He doesn't bother reading the labels on what he drinks, so by the time he really interacts with anyone, he's already amped up. Klaus tends to do downers as a general rule, but he's not so far down he can't get it up.

Once again, he's easy. Try him! He's the kind of guy who will try anything at least once, and most things twice.

WILDCARD

Nothing here tickle your fancy? Tag any other prompt (though I'm staying away from the torture room without hashing that out first, I'm game to try it) and we'll go for it, or shoot me a PM and we'll figure something out together.

Edited 2019-04-25 04:42 (UTC)

stand your ground. ii.

[Adelaide was sure she didn't believe in Hell. Well. She certainly did believe in a hell. But it was not an afterlife. It was not a punishment. It was a circumstance and nothing more. And it has nothing to do with her anymore. It doesn't have to.

It shouldn't have to. But it's followed her here, and she doesn't know if she's... died, somehow, or what. Maybe Red was right to believe in God the way she did.

But there's a promise it can be undone. All of it. Adelaide clings to that, as she clings to the list of her sins, crumpled up, in her pocket where it can't be found. Tucked in her wallet.

No one needs to see all that.

She explores, avoiding interaction as much as possible... not altogether successfully, at first, but eventually, the staff leaves her to her whims. Of course, she finds a torture room. Of course.

She only lets herself be unsettled by the sight of it for a moment. Her survival instinct kicks in.

Eyes lingering on a pair of (somewhat rusty, unfamiliar in style, still unsettling) scissors, she... grabs a large knife.

Just as someone walks in after her.

She jumps, whirling around, holding the weapon up to defend herself if need be. She didn't need to go to Hell to know she can't trust anyone, no matter what they look like.

...You're going to have to explain yourself first. She's not attacking, but she's not lowering that knife. Nor is she going to be the one to break the ice.]

reach up high. i. (CW: cutting, blood, violence)

[It's a good thing Adelaide got here first, really. If there's one thing she's certain of, it's that she's not letting a single other person here access to any of her sins by name. She's aware enough to realize they have their own sins. She's aware, also, that any one of them could be one of the Tethered.

And if she's really dead...

She swallows hard and takes the knife from the table and immediately scratches out all that she can of her sins. She starts to grunt with the effort, not sparing a single detail, not one incriminating letter.

She's in the middle of this when she hears someone enter.

Then the voice explains. She's quiet, still. Listening.

When the voice finishes, she looks up from her mostly-destroyed table, eyes wide. Looks to the person who entered.]

...You can go first.

[But she doesn't lower her own knife.]

follow me down. i. (cw: flashbacks, panic attacks, alcohol use, drug mentions, past animal death will probably come up)

[There's a difference in snapping your fingers to the rhythm of a song about drugs and actually condoning the use of drugs in general. Adelaide had never even smoked a cigarette in her life—the most she's done is drink or party occasionally. She went to college, such is campus life.

But she's a mother and a wife and an adult now. She has responsibilities.

She avoids the majority of the party. Honestly, Hell is such a... small place. There's not much else to do, and most people seem to be here at the end of the night, and here seems to be marginally better than most of the rest of the place, so...

She orders a martini, takes a seat in a plush chair in the corner. She doesn't plan on getting drunk. She'll sip at it for appearances.

But Adelaide realizes she hasn't eaten the entire day, so she flags down a member of the hotel staff, and she asks for dinner and is served a plate. It looks like... a fairly unassuming, American-style meal. She takes a bite from a fork.

And instantly coughs up the food back out of her mouth. She realizes she can't place... what exactly this meat is. It's undercooked, it's dry, it's stringy.

It's familiar.

She hasn't realized it, but she's gasping, clawing at the couch below her, she can't breathe, the plate has clattered to the floor, she's finding it difficult to speak, she shakes and grasps at her throat—

All while the music blares, drowning most of this out.]

(reply from suspended user) (Show 1 comment)

Stand your ground: 1

[ Squalo is perfectly happy with stairs, thank you, especially since after spending five minutes in Hell you get the idea that their technology doesn't always work as it should. He's still shoved into the elevator by an eager staff member, though. Helping the community is important! ]

[ He suffers in silence for all the half a minute it takes for the elevator to make a weird sound as if something in the walls just broke and freeze to a halt. ]

...you've gotta be shitting me.

Stand your ground: 2

[ Look, it's fucking Christmas. ]

[ Ish. Some of those devices are rather unnerving, and he feels his allergies acting up somewhat when he spots the first whip, but this room honestly looks more entertaining than any gym could possibly be. ]

[ ...is he trying to subtly pocket and/or sleeve a knife or two? You'd bet. ]

Reach up high: 1

[ Squalo may have no shame or regrets, but he's still not entirely thrilled about being forced into this kind of situation; he lazily glances over at the table to try and see what kind of sin list his new... friend has. ]

[ His own scroll drags all the way down to the floor and partly across the room to where a bunch of it remains rolled up. There's all kinds of things from petty vandalism to multiple counts of murder on it, and he's not really trying to stop you from reading it either, unless you're more interested in protecting your own list from his eyes. ]

[ His lips twist into a half-mocking, half-offended smirk as he holds his hands out a bit. ]

Hey, always thought I was pretty damn honest. [ He certainly won't be lectured about it by the Devil, of all people. He cheerfully gestures at the list with the tip of his knife, holding it casually as if it were a pencil. ] Most even have a story to go with 'em, wanna hear?

Follow me down: 1

[ He's more interested in good old alcohol than any drugs. Boring, right? He's not going to refuse if someone offers him something laced with who-knows-what, though, because damn right, he's already in Hell. Not much point to being careful. ]

[ He may also at some point be taking a gander at your plate like he owns it. ]

Hey, that smells decent. What is it?

:: (possibly CW: harassment)

[ Once he's got some alcohol in it, he'll be taking to the games. He quite sucks at most board games, but seems rather proficient at cards and has decent luck at gambling so far. ]

[ If you haven't been as lucky, well. ]

Voi, you need extra motivation or something? Bet your clothes this time.

Follow me down: 2

[ So, did you end up losing at that cards game again and again earlier? He just might be expecting you to get on one of those poles and provide a show. ]

[ Or maybe you haven't had the ~~misfortune~~ pleasure of running into him yet. ]

[ He's taken to a comfortable seat, drink in hand and watching the entertainment; it doesn't look like he has any interest participating otherwise, however. Dancers may get an occasional comment from him, but it's not all the usual kinds of unsolicited narration either. ]

You know what would make this number better? Real swords.

[ ah. ]

WILDCARD!

[ Any other prompts or something entirely new are fine! ]

[ Also Little Hades CRAU available for any of the above while I try to make my mind whether I want to go with that or canon because ngl this game looks like a perfect continuation to the other one. ]

ARRIVAL

[ James startles awake. He's groggy and heavy and tired, and his head aches like he's going through the worst hangover, but he lets none of that stop him from crawling off the bed. The promise of comfort is easily pushed aside when he realizes with suppressed panic that he doesn't have a single idea where he is.

He doesn't really associate it with the dream he's just had, either. He looks around the room, pulls all the drawers open, tosses pillows and blankets around, lifts the mattress, then throws a few things around more out of anger and frustration than anything. Eventually he gathers all his personal items into the duffel bag, and tucks the list of his sins (though they read more as personal achievements) into his pocket, intent on not leaving any trace of himself behind as he heads out the door in search of anyone who can tell him what's going on.

What he sees all over the hotel only really confuses him further. The staff is distinctly non-human, but definitely no race he's ever seen before. Either way, he doesn't feel particularly inclined to approach, just grimacing in disgust before ignoring them altogether and instead addressing the first human (or human-looking, anyway) he crosses paths with. ] Hey! What the hell is this? Where am I?

STAND YOUR GROUND » I

[ Literally shoving him into the lift is the only way to get him to 'cooperate' and help test the new addition to the hotel. Unfortunately he's none too happy about being stuck in a tiny cubicle held up by some ancient and precarious mechanism, and he's not very good at keeping his wits about him either, as his companion in that lift will soon find out. ]

What the fuck?! [ He slams his fist against the door, but to no avail. They won't open. After a few seconds and some colorful cursing, the lift starts stuttering and jolts into a complete halt. He starts banging on the door again. ] Hey! Open these doors, now!

STAND YOUR GROUND » II

[ Despite the slightly bumpy start, not all of it is bad. Hell doesn't seem as bad as old religions made it sound, and it looks all the more promising when, while exploring the hotel, he finds himself in what's very clearly a torture room.

Might as well be a fun room for him, though. His lips stretch into a wide, manic smile, as he grabs a flogger with a tight grip, then cracks it over the edge of a table. The crisp sound gets a pleased little hum from him. ] Good. Finally looking up...

REACH UP HIGH » I (CW: cutting, blood, torture)

[ Resist? Why would he ever? If anything he looks absolutely delighted by what they call a punishment. He looks through the knives carefully, then picks one with a thin but incredibly sharp blade, shooting his partner a crooked grin, making the scar on the side of his face twitch. ] Ready to have some fun?

FOLLOW ME DOWN » I (CW: drug use)

[ James never did waste much of his time on parties. He's been to plenty of bars and clubs, but not really with the intent to socialize or mingle, and much less so make friends. It's not hard to get into the mood here, though. He helps himself to a few strong drinks, and he loosens up considerably, but even then he keeps searching for the darker spots in the room, as though any source of light makes him uncomfortable.

He doesn't shy away from any drugs offered to him, either. Some are vaguely familiar, but others not so much, so he might need some help to know how to take those. He lifts an eyebrow, looking at the person nearest to him. ] So? Just mix it into my drink?

FOLLOW ME DOWN » II (CW: sex, aphro, possible kinks)

[ Pleasure or pain, plenty of the things happening around here cater to James's tastes. He still wishes he had his ship here, that he was in a position of power, that he was as relevant here as he was back in his reality, but while he can't find a way to make that happen, he definitely can find plenty of ways to have some fun.

The neon lights right as he comes into the club make him wince, his eyes as always so sensitive to light. He seeks out the darker corners, seats that are a little less well-lit, though he still draws enough attention to himself, and when he locks eyes with someone who catches his eye, he waves at them with a smirk, sometimes holding up a couple drinks in offering. Might want to ask if they're laced with anything before accepting, though.

Or anyone else is more than free to approach him instead, catch him by surprise for once. He'll be looking through the whole club thoroughly, including the private back rooms and the large room with the single huge bed, so he can be found just about anywhere. ]

arrival
[ when he first wakes up, he's not so sure he isn't still with zenith. that nightmare was… something, but it's not his first nightmare rodeo. it's also not his first buyer beware rodeo — which is what he's starting to believe he got himself into when he wakes up feeling like he got hit by a speeder and put into a coma.

he only starts to fully believe this is an actual new location when he can't connect to the network or communicate witth ROSIE via the chip in his head. and, of course, the list. which makes him feel like sinking whenever he looks at it — which means he's going to immediately pocket it and save reviewing that shit for another day.

this is definitely buyer beware. he made a bad call. should have… kept suffering somewhere else. no, it's okay. he can get out of here. he decided he can. which is why he's out in the hall looking the the ghost of fried garbage and asking anyone he encounters ]

Do you know how to get to the roof?

[ he sounds like he might have a plan. but don't worry, he doesn't. ]

stand your ground 2

[ he breaks into a sweat when he turns into this room that, in theory, is supposed to be the gym. it's sure not a gym. not even the weird alien sex gym back on zhautas. nope. this sure is. a torture room.

the exact devices used on him aren't here; this is way more primitive. even without the fancy torture droids, this is still a lot. too much. just when he thought he might be over it — when there's so much trauma weighing down on him that there's no room for old triggers — there it is again, right where he left it.

if he could still breathe, he wouldn't be right now. he doesn't slowly back away, instead he makes a very sharp turn and runs smack dab into whoever happens to be behind him. ]

Oh, uh. Hey. Sorry. You probably don't want to go in there anyway.

reach up high 1

[ well, he sure did try to kick the door in. why has been super strong continually been so useless?

he's a little slow on the uptake until the voice is there to help him out. that whole spiel gets a very strong ] I ain't doing that. [ muttered under his breath. ]

Look, we don't gotta do this. There has to be another way out. We can find it. And even — they can't keep us here forever.

[ unless… they do… that's a cold sweat of a thought. is losing control and eating someone better or worse than cutting them up? … oh shit the list. how can he casually grab his sin list and make sure the other person never sees it ever? ]

CWs for violence and alcohol. Interacting with Ronan may result in talk of more violence, murder, and death. If you need that stuff to not come up just lmk, I'll accommodate.

REACH UP HIGH I

Ronan is looking for a place to blow off steam, but this is a pretty shitty joke, as far as he's concerned. He's alone for a few minutes, looking through the knives. He's not a stranger to weapons, though he prefers to just fight people with his fists if he's gonna bother. This is excessive. And it's hard the hell he thought of growing up. He doesn't really care, at least at the moment, if he deserves it or not. He's certainly been unrepentant enough in his life, hasn't he?

He can't seem to get out of the room, which just annoys him.

Eventually, someone else shows up - whether by choice or not, he doesn't know or care. He has a knife in each hand when they do.

The announcement plays over the speakers, or whatever.

Ronan wastes no time reacting. He throws one of the knives with pretty accurate aim, right by the other person. He's not trying to hit them, just shake them up.

"Just a warning," he says, and it is more than obvious that he means it. "You're gonna have a hard fucking time if you think you're cutting words into me."

REACH UP HIGH II

Ronan, still with blood on him from somewhere, hangs out in the hotel lobby, lounging in a chair, boots propped up on the end table. He looks like a degenerate in this setting, though of course that's preposterous since everyone here is in hell. But Ronan has to be Ronan about it, so here he is, sharp edges and sharp eyes.

Despite all of that, he notices someone come into the lobby. They're obviously uncertain about something (maybe just that whole being in hell thing). So he unfolds himself from the chair and half-stomps over to them.

"Hey. You need something?"

He's not a boy scout or anything, but after that last bit of bullshit, he's taking this good deed thing seriously.

FOLLOW ME DOWN I

Ronan can be found exclusively at the bar, drink in hand, thousand yard gaze plastered on his face. He's not entirely drunk, but he's close enough.

It's possible whoever approaches him may have caught at least some part of his fight with Kavinsky, so that's something to remark on. He looks about as approachable as a rabid dog, but don't let that stop you.

WILDCARD

[ ooc: pick your poison. I'm down for follow me down 2 with dudes only, but let's talk about it first? hmu on plurk here

boywonder for a custom starter or to run things by me. Ronan is a jerk, but I am not! Promise. ]

Edited 2019-04-28 03:39 (UTC)

"Why didn't you do more," the words echo in Tony's head as he feels his life fading away. Did they do it, did he manage to get them to the one outcome where Thanos lost and the Avengers won. He had no idea as he awoke in what looked like both the most garish hotel room he's ever stayed in and the more understated.

Is this what death is like? He decides to explore and hope he can find some answers good or bad.

STAND YOUR GROUND
Prompt 1
Harley Quinn is no stranger to bizarre dreams and even more bizarre surroundings. She’s woken up in Arkham more times than she can count, after all, and Arkham’s no tea party. The place is full of the truly crazy, the kinda crazy, and the not crazy but they had a really great attorney. It’s also full of inmates — because, realistically, they’re not patients — who like to scream and howl at all hours.

So waking up in actual hell is actually par for the course for Harley, who thinks the digs here are actually a few steps up and might even be a little into the pain and punishment this place had to offer up.

By the time she finds herself wandering around, poking her head into whatever rooms she can get into, making an internal map of what she’s come across, Harley’s kind of at peace with the whole thing. You don’t run fast and loose with an actual insane clown posse without realizing that, if there is a Great Downstairs, that’s probably where you’re headed once you bite the big one.

And it’s that thought she’s having when she’s grabbed by the arm and unceremoniously pushed into an elevator after someone else. “Hey, watch the costume, buddy! This thing’s a classic!”

Well, there are a lot of things that are classics that probably don’t deserve special treatment in Hell. And her harlequin outfit, complete with white greasepaint and jingling hat, definitely doesn’t make the cut.

REACH UP HIGH
Prompt 2
Harley is — technically speaking, if one is willing to ignore that she’d lost her license — a doctor. A psychiatrist, more specifically. And a large part of her had gone into that field to help people. Of course, another large part of her had just been interested in how twisted minds worked.

But the real point was that when she was given instructions to help someone, she figured she had this in the bag.

Besides, Harley liked to be helpful (usually to the point of being godawfully annoying). So she set up shop on a barstool at the self-serve bar, grabbed some cardboard and a Sharpie, and made herself a little sign to put on the bar.

Free Advice and Drinks

Most people probably don't want advice from a clown henchwench who'd found herself in hell and was drinking ginger ale at a bar. Then again, there are probably plenty of people who are pretty freaked out and just want to talk about that.

Besides, the aches and pains are starting to set in, and Harley has already worked out that the quicker she 'helps' someone, the quicker she'll stop feeling like she's gotten run over by a truck.

NETWORK
Pretty sure I jumped the turnstile for the Crazy Train, took a wrong turn at What The Fuck Rd, and landed on the surface of the sun.

OOC
[ Feel free to add me at

tactum if you'd like to discuss or plot. Also happy to write up starters for any other prompts or any other starters in general. ]

ARRIVAL

[Oh —

Holy cow.

The last thing Peter remembers is by no means pleasant — 'cus he was pretty sure he was dying. His Spidey Sense (he's working on it, but that's about a good a name as any — ) had gone crazy, and then... then the others were turning to dust. And he felt this... feeling in every inch of him, knowing something was off, screaming at him to do something, anything. And then he grabbed Mr. Stark, and — apologized. He wasn't really sure what he expected the unknown reaches of the afterlife to be like, but he'd been kind of hoping he'd find Ben and squeeze him in a big hug, and apologize over and over 'til he was blue in the face.

But instead he's in a hotel room, blood weeping out of his hand and something written in it: stuff about lying to people about his identity, about failing the people he was supposed to protect (he knows, okay, he knows), and all these little things, ridiculous things he'd housed in his guilty conscious for years, like stealing a candy bar when he was twelve, or lying about breaking a vase when he'd been building stuff in the living room for robotics club. Also, that time he almost choked on his gum and coughed it into a girl's hair a seat in front of him during a trig pop quiz—

... Honestly it's a crazy-long list of things that most people would find totally stupid and ridiculous and not remotely appropriate for the situation at hand.

But at the very bottom, a line that leaves his mouth dry and his head dizzied:

LETTING BEN DIE.

Okay. Okayokayokay, this has to be a nightmare. This is a nightmare.

Peter can be found annoying the front reception, his duffel hanging on his shoulder and his arms wildly gesturing as he talks; that same kinda nervous rambling he does in just about any stressful situation, honestly. Part of the conversation likely catches the ears of passerbyes:]

— I really think there's been a mistake! I mean, I don't think — I don't think I'm supposed to be here! You've gotta get me back to the last place I was at, because there's something crazy big going on, and I need to wake up ASAP so I can help my friends and protect everyone there...!

[Tragically, the demon seems to not give a single solitary flip about Pete's growing anxiety.

If he's not there, he's sitting at one of the stools in the bar, his duffel in his lap.

Someone snaps him out of a trance, asking what he wants to drink.]

Uh. I'll have orange juice, if you have that?

... I'm not old enough to drink.

STAND YOUR GROUND (Prompt I)

[Peter is no stranger to getting shoved around. Masked or not. It kinda comes with the territory.

But what he doesn't anticipate is being suddenly trapped in one, and as much as he wants to pretend he's not feeling a little claustrophobic, his heart rate speeds up a bit at the length of time the elevator hasn't moved; he swears, ever since a building fell on him, he's been more and more sensitive to this kinda thing.

Also, the being in Hell part. He laughs in a way that screams awkward, simmering anxiety.]

This super sucks, doesn't it?

REACH UP HIGH (Prompt I)

No way!

C'moooon, I'm sick of being stuck places, are you kidding me—

[The anxiety levels are totally building, by the way. He stays far away from the knives in question, opting to try and shove the door open with his shoulder instead. And yeah, he's definitely tucking his stupid list of sins away in his pocket, before anyone's trying to get a gander at all the stupid, ridiculous things listed.

By the time another person is shoved into the room, the boy's pacing in big circles around the kitchen island there, brow pinched with concern and lip being thoroughly chewed on. He turns to look at them with owlish eyes, or maybe more like deer eyes — you know, like the kind frozen in headlights?]

Uh... Hi?

REACH UP HIGH (Prompt II)

["Do one genuinely kind deed for someone and we'll consider it a step in the right direction for you."

Finally, something not horrific and miserable. Something he can actually do. He can be found flinging himself into work around the hotel, mopping, sweeping, cleaning up messes left behind — he's carrying things for people and walking someone's creepy scary helldog, and he's helping that same front desk demon with his software issues. He'll be there like a damn mirage of eagerness, because at this point, he's gonna go crazy right from the get-go if he doesn't do something good for the sake of the other guests here. It was his job before. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, right? He's not about to change that, just because he's dead and in... in... guh, he doesn't want to think of it.

Just work. Workworkwork. If he works and helps, he can try to fix whatever this is.]

Hey! You need any help with that?

[... Should he even hide the fact that he's got super powers here?

... He's pretty sure it's way past the point of secret identities, when you're in the worst possible place to be.]

[ooc: feel free to PM me if you have any questions or want to run something by me! nothing smut-related, please and thank you!]

For reasons unfathomable upon first waking in the hotel Tatsuya had assumed it was the Velvet Room. His katana was on the floor in a pile of objects he had been carrying before whatever it was that brought him here had happened. He remembered the voice now. It wasn’t him and it certainly wasn’t Igor. Wherever he was now, there were new gods here.

He felt Apollo beat in time with his heart as he picked up his sword. His grip was as sure as ever, even as his pulse hammered. Tatsuya had experience with gods while unlike his words the devil’s tone was sweet he had no doubts about what he would need to take with him in order to survive.

Stand Your Ground I

Compared to what (little admittedly) he’d seen of the rest of the hotel this event came as more as a reprieve than anything. Not one he trusted, of course, his weapon was lowered now but he had no intention of letting it go although he would prefer to just wait it out with the other person here in the elevator.

He used his other hand to rifle around in his pocket and, with a nod to show he meant no harm, pulled out a zippo lighter. Once in his hand he methodically flipped the cap open and let it fall again only to repeat the action like a ritual of sorts.

“…Keep your guard up.”

Reach Up High I
Warnings: cutting/blood as well as ref to past self harm.

Well. So much for not associating Satan with Nyarlathotep . This was exactly the kind of situation that bastard would think of too. Tatsuya’s panic has already peaked by the time someone else has entered, or rather, been forced into the same room.

It would be one thing to ask this of Tatsuya himself. The scars he’d given his right arm were surely enough to spell out murderer at this point. But to have to do it to someone else? As an excuse to help them?

Tatsuya swallowed the familiar bile back down his throat and let his back hit the wall. He lowered his gaze to the two knives on the table and shook his head. His left hand is wrapped tightly around his right bicep. Idly, he wonders how many cuts his leather suit can take.

“I’m not doing it.”

Follow Me Down I
It was difficult enough living in the body of his other self in a world unlike the one hew grew up in but just s. His first mistake had been assuming his other self was as pathetic as he was but it turned out he had managed just fine, even having someone like Yoshizaka as a friend.

The two of them would go to Zodiac frequently, apparently. He had only been to the dance club in the Aoba ward himself twice – once to take down a cult, and the second time to stop Sudou from taking another victim. Needless to say he had never actually sat at the bar there.

Technically, he was still a year underage too. But this wasn’t Japan and he really needed to stop thinking at the moment.

“Hey,” he said, gesturing to one of the demon waiters. “That’s vodka, right? Over here too.”

Sitting here like this, surrounded by the shrill sound of screams of ecstasy and something else, it’s almost like being in Xibalba again. That thought is enough to make him down the shot in one gulp, and fuck! Why do adults drink this stuff again?

His current expression of disgust would be difficult to miss, but he doesn’t let go of the bottle.

Wildcard
Feel free to tag with your own idea/prompt, excluding Follow Me Down prompt II please.

Stand Your Ground II - CW for torture devices that he probably won’t use but are there nevertheless!

[After the list of sins written in blood and the numerous demonic staff he’d passed by on his first foray into the hotel’s halls, Jay isn’t too surprised to find himself wandering into a torture chamber. He has been in them (most recently one of Vaclav’s on the Legacy) and utilized them before (long ago), so if anything at all he’s a little impressed by the broad and dramatic selection of tools.]

[He bypasses all of the complicated contraptions without so much as a shudder and starts testing the weight of various knives, throwing some at the top of a Judas Cradle across the room. The ones he likes are retrieved from the makeshift target and stashed somewhere in his roomy clothing. Jay’s gracious hosts left him with only five of his own, after all. He doesn’t really mind if they add theft to the bottom of his list.]

[Try not to startle him if you walk in. The next knife may be headed your way...]

Reach Up High - Prompt 1 (cw: blood)

The traces of tears already shed and dried still mark Ovelia's face, but when the voice comes with its terrible orders, she has nothing left to cry. She knows her sins, and that she must atone for them. This was not the method she was lead to expect, but the world is crueler than anything her tutors prepared her for.

"Please, just do as they say." She rolls up one white sleeve to bare the pale skin of her forearm. For now, she makes no move to claim her own knife. This is no more than she deserves.

Reach Up High - Prompt 2

"God, please help us sinful children of Hell..."

Ovelia kneels, hands clasped and head bowed, even though she has no altar before which to supplicate. So much of her life has been spent this way, futilely praying for deliverance that never came to her people.

Surely this would be considered a kindness...if any benevolent god was listening to hear it...but no relief comes. Her head aches, and her voice hitches.

"...please, hear me, and bring comfort to these lost souls." She gives up, and clutches her head in her hands.

Follow Me Down - Prompt 1

Amber eyes blink at the glass of wine that the demon bartender just refilled. Wine, Ovelia is quite used to, but glass for a drinking vessel is a novelty that she cannot quite get over.

The drugs are not helping with that. The bartender had offered her something 'to help with the pain' when she first stumbled in to the dining area, and she is too sheltered to think to watch her drink for anyone adding to the mix.

She sways a little in her seat as she reaches for the wine glass. "This is no Ivalicean vintage, but it certainly warms the blood." She reaches for the clasp of her cloak and unfastens it. The horrors of the day seem distant and blurred now, and her exhausted body feels warm and light.

"I pray you join me for a drink," she calls to the next person she sees. She has grown too used to having a knight by her side to rely on, and she feels the absence keenly now.

Arrival/Network

[Catra limbers up from whatever sleep she'd been in. Her eyes fall once again to the list on the bedside table. Her sins. Catra's ears press back. Whoever did this had some really good intel, and a flair for the dramatic, judging by the cut on her palm. She swipes at the paper, a poor substitute for clawing whoever abducted her to this... place. The paper flutters limply to the ground.

She turns her back to it, and instead picks up the strange device she'd found next to her tracker pad. She already hates the UI. It's easy enough to pick up, though. Catra viciously types, claws clacking.]

Is this for real?

[Reach Up High- Prompt II]

[Just when he thinks things couldn't be weirder, Yuri hears the yelp of a pup.

The noise, he finds, actually does belong to a dog- of sorts- it doesn't matter. It's small, and apparently in pain, and Yuri finds himself pulling it out of a tangle of hellfire and thorns. The burns and tears in his skin are incidental. He sits with it once it's freed, patting its head, disregarding the pain even that causes.]

There you go. All better.

Edited 2019-05-07 05:05 (UTC)

[ Stand Your Ground Prompt 2: Stealing Toys ]

Oh, now what is this trove of fantastical treasures? John stumbles into the torture chamber quite by accident, but what a pleasant surprise! Lots of his toys came with him-- they were scattered around him in that strange room he woke up in. But there’s no harm in trying new things, is there?

The slim angular man bounces between this table and that, admiring the knives and the whips and-- oh sweet fried kittens that’s an Iron Maiden! If only he had had one of those when he wanted Waller nice and dead.

“I’m getting really tempted to touch something,” he remarks with giddy delight and crumbling self restraint. He’s speaking to no one in particular; himself, the sexy iron lady full of spikes, the walls. Who ever. Giggles tumble from a high register as his paper-white hand slides out and caresses a pretty preening gleaming blade set waiting on a table.

[ Reach Up High Prompt 1: Good with Knives ]

Well, this is a fun game isn’t it? Someone had said something about redemption, and now they want him to cut someone up? The folks in charge of this place seem confused. But whatever, John doesn’t play games he’s not interested in but this, this seems fun. Oh, and he’s also got to get someone to carve something into him. Okay, cool. He’s been in worse pain (so has anyone who’s been on the other end of Batman’s beautiful brutality) and he doesn’t care much about these stupid ‘sins’.

But he spots someone unfamiliar also tangled in this Arkham prescribed medication induced fever dream (???) and saunters over to them casually, approaching from behind.

“Hey there friend-o, looking for someone good with a knife?” for a split second he looks utterly ruthless and wild, the kind of creature that would kill you as soon as look at you. But his bright green eyes are widened by some secret surprise and his smile splits, spilling a chorus of trailing giggles that are more eerie than sheepish.

“For this little game, that is,” he amends after a few failed attempts to smother his poorly controlled laughter. “I mean, I can do other fun things with a knife, but that’s not exactly on the menu, is it?”

[ Reach Up High Prompt 2: Therapy Circle ]

So they want him to do a good thing now? What’s this place’s deal? You’re in hell, but you can be good, only cut up this person, and now go be nice to someone else. It’s a fast changing game, isn’t it? But so far, John is having so much more fun than in the months he spent alone in Arkham, healing his broken bones.

No Harley. No Bruce. No one worth a second glance, and nothing but his photos on the wall to remind him of everything he’d lost. John hadn’t laughed for far too long, but this place? This place is a ball. So sure, why not, he’ll play this round, too!

How could he not, when he has all the tools for his Therapy Circle? And there’s a bar-- not quite with the musty charm of The Stacked Deck, but it has beer (and more) so it’s good enough. John makes an ungodly amount of noise dragging various chairs across the room and repositioning them a number of times, though he seems totally oblivious to any disturbance he may be causing. A few minutes of loud metalic screeching pass before he’s got the chairs just how he wants them, in a perfect little circle.

Alright, looking good. Next up, John finds some paper (green) and some crayons (purple) and scrawls himself a little sign, reading ‘Open Therapy Circle’, and of course he’s gotta draw some smiles and clown faces on there for good measure so everyone understand it’s a positive space.

And for the final touch, John dives into his handy duffle bag (thank you demon staff?) and digs around until he finds them…

“Come on, I know you guys are in here somewhere…” he grumbles to himself, scowling at the chaotic mess of clothes and knives and makeup and smoke bombs-- ahha! Search complete! The pale green haired man produces a pair of plushies from his bag; one is a blond female in a dress and the other is a brunette male in a suit, and both of them feature blue button eyes. Plushies are weird enough, but it would be weirder if they were plushies of certain people, wouldn’t it?

Because they totally are. John sits each plushie in its own seat inside the circle, and then drops himself into the seat next to the one in the suit, a casual posture hanging his long lanky limbs.

“I guess now we wait?” he side eyes one toy and then the other, melting a little into the chair in a show of impatient boredom. Hopefully someone comes along soon because a bored John Doe is a scary creature indeed.

[ Follow Me Down Prompt 1: Trying New Things ]

“Fried… kittens?” John eyes the demonic server dubiously, one slick green brow floating. “Arkham served some questionable things but I gotta say, that’s never been on the menu before.” It’s kinda sad, poor little kittens. But also they’re not gonna get less dead if John doesn’t eat one.

“Well, I guess… when in Rome?” he picks up a crispy fried leg and examines it far too briefly and casually, shrugs, and takes a bite.

“You know what would be good on this? Honey mustard,” he comments between chewing, “it could stand to be sweeter.”

Network [voice, un: j.doe ]

Probably an unpopular opinion, but this place is a hoot compared to Arkham. I was getting so bored but this… this has potential. I can’t be the only one having too much fun, can I?

[eerie giggles that shift from deep in the throat to high in the nose trail on for a bit to long.]

Seems like a good place to make friends. And, speaking of bestest, forever friends…

… Batman? Are you out there somewhere? I miss ya buddy. [His voice actually sounds almost sad there for a second]

Guess I should follow Doctor Leeland’s advice and try to extend my friend circle, while I’m here…

Threaded | Flat

Page 2 of 2

Crowley | Supernatural

Steve Rogers | Marvel Cinematic Universe: Winter Soldier (CRAU)

Styx | Styx: Shards of Darkness

Daenerys Targaryen | Game of Thrones

Klaus Hargreeves | Umbrella Academy | OTA, but m/m only for smut