+1 "Put That Thing Back Where It Came From Or So Help Me"

[nomoreroom]

So! This wasn't actually what he was expecting, when he opened the kitchen door today. He had an excellent venison burger sitting in the fridge, practically calling his name, but he opened the door to the Hotel kitchen, wouldn't you know it-

A completely alternate dimension. Well isn't that just a fine how do you do?

Now if he were a demon of more basic desires and concrete obvious goals, he'd have shut that door and kept trying it until he got his goddamn burger.

Clearly, though, that wasn't what happened.

Tall, that's what he was, way too tall to not stand out, all limbs and pointed fingers and jagged dagger smile, gleeful as he wandered about the plaza and no doubt scaring the children, if there happened to be any unfortunate enough to be there. Nosy thing too, deer-like ears swiveling this way and that to eavesdrop on any possible conversation in the immediate area.

And when he opened his mouth, the hiss and crackle of an old radio came out with a pop, that voice tinny, gleeful and disquieting.

"Good evenin' folks, fantastic night out, isn't it?

Now, I went about readin' your how to's and what do's and where go's and how so's, but I still got a question for you fine, lovely folks out there.

How many of you beautiful surface citizens came from somewhere a little further south? Don't be shy now, step right up."

Comments

[masteroffear]

Jonathan assumes that the being is talking about hell. In any case, he likes the newcomer's style. Call him curious, but he has a healthy respect for beings from the other side. He's been around long enough to know that, despite the fearsome reputation he's earned, he's far from the most powerful or frightening creature out there.

He nods briefly to show respect to the newcomer. He's not going to run, but he's careful to be polite. It pays to know what your limitations are, and when to acknowledge a likely superior. And antagonizing probable hell demons or eldritch abominations never ends well.

"I'm from Georgia, sir, but I don't think that's what you're talking about."

[nomoreroom]

The laugh he makes sounds practiced, as if it were canned, artificial and sharp.

"Georgia! I remember Georgia! Ha ha ha, haven't been there since 1931, bit tricky to get there from Louisiana if you don't have the scratch for it.

You're a sharp kid, that's right I wasn't talkin' about Georgia. I ain't talkin' about South America, Madagascar or Antarctica either, son. No, a bit further south than that.

Now I'm just curious, see. I didn't think it was that easy to get up here! Thought there was more of a process to it, some more paper work, some more I's to dot so on and so forth. Didn't think these rules-" A flash of paper in his hand, the pamphlets apparently.

"would have applied to a bunch of murderous, psychotic, bone chewin' eternally damned inmates, ha! Boy will the folks back home be thrilled to hear this."

[masteroffear]

"Born and raised there." Jonathan has bad memories of Georgia, and as far as he's concerned he hates the place. "What did you do there? Claim any souls? Play any fiddles?"

He smoothly turns the subject over to the stranger's comments, folding his arms as he thinks.

"Well, my record isn't exactly clean, either." Jonathan gives a toothy smile. "But I had no problem getting in. But I've been lying low. Minding my own business. Quite the interesting place this is."

His curiosity's raised, too. It's been a long time since he's conversed with a demon from Hell, as he's assuming the stranger is. This demon is different from the one he encountered. Much more...lively, for lack of a better word.

"I've read Dante like anyone with a literature minor. I know exactly the kind of place you're talking about. The suffering city. Everlasting pain. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. The Other Place."

[nomoreroom]

"Well let me see. I was vistin' the place on the radio company's dime to do a show in Atlanta. Sure was a swell show too, had a great time, got dinner by the water, definitely wanted to try doin' it again!

Unfortunately, turns out I only had two more years left before the incident haha! Good thing about buckshot though is that if it hits you in the right spot, only hurts for a second.

Demons aren't born, kiddo, they're made. Take that and put it in your hat, good to remember."

The comment on Jonathan's record, now that got a slight raising of the brows, that seemingly permanent, carved in smile twitching upwards just a little bit more.

"You don't say? What's a fine young man like you been up to?" Hey. He's curious. It's been a long time since he's spoken to the not!damned before.

"Well my friend, that level of Hell is for the unfortunates. The wretches, my friend, the losers. The ones who can't pull themselves out of the gutters onto their feet. The Pentagram's always been good to those who have talent, my boy. And I have talent in spades. You're looking at one of the most powerful personality's in Hell, outside of old Lucifer himself.

Hell's competitive and I can tell you, there's a lot of mobility in the ranks, long as you know how to play ball. You know how to play ball, don'tcha, son?

[hybriddino]

The Indoraptor's quills raise instinctively. The dinosaur smells something...strange. Not human, and certainly nothing he's smelled before. It takes a lot to intimidate him, being a twenty-four-foot carnivorous dinosaur with long black claws and jagged teeth, but he's certainly intimidated. Nevertheless, he's polite to the newcomer.

He makes a point of not judging others by looks, using himself as an example.

Welcome to the Nexus. I'm the Indoraptor. He scribbles on his whiteboard. I'm not from down south - I was born in a laboratory, created by humans. He has noticed something off about the stranger's voice, but he doesn't judge. He's met people here with strange voices, and he himself can't speak in human language at all. Pleasure to meet you. .

[nomoreroom]

That sure is a dinosaur with a whiteboard.

Really, the puzzling thing here is the lack of pants, and the lack of verbal conversation. The last dinosaur he talked to in Hell was very chatty! Eventually.

But hey, he's not going to ask unnecessary questions, it only takes him a second to read the board.

"Well it's a pleasure to meetcha too, Indy! Can I call you Indy?" It doesn't matter, he's Indy.

"Alastor here, and I gotta admit, I haven't spoken with a lab made dinosaur before! All the ones we got down below got cooked up the old fashioned way, if you know what I'm saying. Traditionalists!

Not from down my way though, now that's a surprise. You look like someone I'd see in the lobby!"

[hybriddino]

Indy's fine. He doesn't have a real name, and that's as good as any other for the time being, until he gets a real one.

All the dinosaurs he saw back in his world were lab-born, since dinosaurs were supposed to be extinct, but humans made more dinosaurs with cloning. I'm special - I'm a hybrid made from the DNA of many different dinosaurs. There were supposed to be more like me, but I'm the only one.

The Indoraptor is interested when Alastor mentions knowing other dinosaurs. There are dinosaurs where you come from? In his world, he knows there are other dinosaurs, but he hasn't met any since he came to the Nexus. The last dinosaur he met was a Velociraptor, and they hadn't gotten along terribly well. To say the least.

[outpostcook]

Kinner gulps, a small man even smaller in the presence of this...well, entity is the only word he can think of to describe this being. He looks powerful, and dangerous, and Kinner is terrified. He's already dead, so he figures there's relatively little risk, so he screws up his courage before he approaches the creature.

"I'm from Antarctica. Well, not from from there, but I was there before I died. But I guess that isn't what you're a-talkin' about."

He has a good idea where this being's from. It's not somewhere he particularly wants to go. Nothing personal, but he's not the adventurous type, even less so when Hell is involved.

[nomoreroom]

Now, other dead people he's used to! Never stumbled across one that wasn't in Hell though, for obvious reasons, so Kinner might be on the receiving end of some uncomfortable attention, the deer demon looming over him with that apparently permanent razor maw grin.

"All the way down in Antarctica! Hey, I met a man who died down there once too! Turns out he was tryin' to find the south pole, ended up in Hell after they ran out of food and he knocked his partners brains out for the meat.

Nice guy, bit on the morose side.

No my friend, I'm not talkin' about Antarctica either, don't get much further south than where I'm from, I'm sure you know what I mean, son. You look like a bright kid.

So how'd you go about dyin' down there? Hey, while we're on the subject, how'd you end up here instead of upstairs? Or downstairs. I'm not gonna make any judgement calls on your morality, my friend, just wanna know where the detour showed up for you."

[outpostcook]

Cannibalism. Kinner knows those stories, too, a bit comforted by the fact that he was too much on the lean side to be a great meal. He didn't want to end up in that boat - he'd dine on seal or even a sled dog, and would never think of eating a human. But the possibility was always a haunting one, the kind of things people resort to when there's little choice left. And apparently something else down there found Kinner quite delicious.

"I got eaten. There was a monster down there. We found it frozen in the ice and some of us figured unthawing it was a good idea. Turned out as well as you'd expect. Big blue ugly thing with tentacles and bright red eyes with the evil glowin' in 'em. Somethin' you might be, uh, familiar with."

He hadn't been killed in the conventional way - he didn't remember what the creature did to him, but it was probably deeply unpleasant given his team's suspicions of its abilities. He's glad the creature put him to sleep before it went to work, though less out of charity and more because, if he struggled, he could raise the alarm.

"That thing's probably walkin' around where I came from, pretendin' to be me, and there ain't a thing I can do about it." Kinner's resentful, more of being impersonated than of being digested alive. The latter was unfortunate, the former was flat-out an insult. "I don't know how I ended up here."

[to_the_wolves]

It's impossible to pry her attention away from Alastor. His outfit, those teeth and hearing his 1920's style voice...Those should all be signs to walk away, to not associate herself with a obvious demon or creature of dark natures. But Marie can't pull herself away. Not when she needs to know the nature and motivation of this person, if mainly for her own peace of mind. He couldn't have possibly come from her world, after all, but there's no way of knowing unless a conversation takes place.

With a calm attitude, she walks over to Alastor when most of the crowds have thinned out for the day, leaving less of an opportunity to be spotted by someone she knows. Dressed in a less colorful suit of her own, one hand in her pocket, she pushes back any lingering fears on her mind and nods politely to him. Somehow she has a feeling such a brazen person can easily sense when something is off about other people, so it's better to approach directly than spy on Alastor from a distance.

"I've traveled down south before. New Orleans. Atlanta. Most of Florida." She knows what he's referring to, but isn't about to ask for confirmation. Keep the conversation clean and hide her demonic side from him for as long as possible. "I was born in Chicago, migrated to Oregon, then finally the Nexus."

[nomoreroom]

A nod from her, and a "Hello!" from him, accompanied by that apparently typical hiss and pop of an old radio. He made no effort, none at all, to try and make her comfortable. If anything, the demon just seemed to straighten his back even more, grinning down at her over the top of that red monocle with an expression of gleeful interest.

Something about her, it seemed had caught his attention.

"Ah, New Orleans. Not too far away from my home town, hey I worked there for a while. Beautiful city, huh? I remember the Axeman of New Orleans like it was yesterday, what a fantastic mystery! Wonder if I ever met him.

But that's not what I'm talkin' about, sweetheart, no sir. Little warmer than New Orleans where I moved to. Don't know a single person from there, darlin'? Can't conjure up a single soul?"

[to_the_wolves]

Yup. Definitely getting the whole 1920's vibe from his voice, but not in a bad way. It rings of nostalgia and days long past, something she could get used to. Then again, Alastor is much taller and intimidating, making this interaction harder to wrap her brain around. The topic of discussion is also a bit jarring...

"Well, it is a place full of lore and mysteries, part of the reason why I'm attracted to it. There's also a great deal of culinary enjoyment in the city." Oh she's heard of the Axeman from a few tourist trap guides. Interesting how Alastor bring s that up when recalling New Orleans. He's starting to set off warning bells in her mind, but curiosity is getting the better of her.

"You'd be referring to Hell. No, can't say that I've met anyone from there." She can't help but smirk at his comment. "Where I'm from, no one can confirm if it really exists or not. Religion mentions it, but it's not like a human could just walk down there and confirm its existence."

[sweetcandygirl]

This demon and his smile reminds Harley of someone she used to date. And so she watches him carefully at first.

She laughs. And shakes her head. "If you are talking about where I think you are talking about... been there. Done that. Got kicked out."

It is true! Harley was too much of a positive energy for Hell.

[nomoreroom]

"No kiddin'? For what?" Color him interested.

"All the reasons I can think of for gettin' booted from Hell would just end up with an Exterminator's spear in your spine, not exactly my idea of a good time, sweetheart.

But look at this-" An obvious attempt to swing behind her, an attempt to jab one sharpened claw into the base of her spine for half a second.

"All in one piece, not an arrow or lance to be found! How'd you do it, doll?"

[sweetcandygirl]

"I kept on trying to make everything and everyone bright and happy. And since that is not the point..."

Speaking of him looking for points, Harley spins quickly, to prevent him from jabbing her. No touching... thank you very much.

"Guess I was too much of a ray of sunshine."

[alittlehinky]

For a minute, Cricket legit thinks someone's playing a radio, mostly because he's absorbed in his book. He's ensconced on one of the couches, a little worn out after Halloween shenanigans, leg braces off for the day and both feet up to ease some swelling. He has a cane beside his elbow, as well, because walking with no support doesn't always end well for him.

Hearing the question, he tucks his finger between the pages of his book and sits up a little, looking around for the source, and--holy shit, that is not what he was expecting. The look of immediate shock, concern and possibly fear may be gratifying.

But okay. He can be civil. And he gets immediately what the demon means by 'further south'. "Uh...no, sir, but I reckon I could've ended up there if I hadn't landed here instead."

Wow, Cricket. Dark. "I mean, dependin' on the criteria for entrance. Ain't done much hurting people but I'm not a big churchgoer, either."

[nomoreroom]

It's an expression he's used to, and in response, that slasher grin just widens more, the pupils in those blood red eyes narrowing to sharpened slits. Gleeful, amused even, so it would appear.

"Now that's a story I hear a lot! You'd be amazed at how many people just slide and slip into Hell unnoticed. Don't even pay attention to where they're goin'. It's a piece of cake to end up in Hell, son. Just a little trip.

One sin or a hundred sins, if you don't fix it, there's only one place for you." Dark indeed!

[alittlehinky]

Yep, okay. Bad person to fall into conversation with, check. Cricket can already tell this is not a Nexus encounter he'd have chosen on his own behalf. But he also knows better than to turn tail and run at this point. For one thing, he's not that fast. For another, in most of the stories about demons he's read, running from them just makes them chase you down and jump on your back or something, and he definitely doesn't want that.

He's lost his place in reading already, so he sets the book aside carefully and watches the stranger's body language, still as a rabbit that's being shadowed by a hawk.

"Somehow, I never thought a devil'd talk like a preacher," he says, surprisingly philosophical for someone who thinks he may be in danger. "What d'you suppose are the percentages on who goes which direction?"

There's supposed to be no possibility of violence in the Nexus. He's never tested that, himself, but he has to kind of hope it holds true here. "How come you sound like an announcer on the radio, anyway? If you don't mind my askin'."

[coldsong]

Well, this is an interesting newcomer, indeed. Loki is wary of powers with which his familiarity is lacking, and this one is nothing short of exotic. He's only guessing what 'further south' means, but context says some sort of Underworld. Hel he understands, but that grim, grey, cold concept has nothing in common with this crimson spectre of he-knows-not-what hurtling into their midst. He gets an immediate impression of vibrance, subtle aggression, and above all performance.

He's a bit of a performer, himself, so on that level, he can relate. It's a very good show.

When he chooses to approach, he makes sure he's wearing his full Sakkaran glamor-armor, as it were. The horned helmet seems unnecessary, but he does think he wants to make an impression, so here he is with the synthetic navy blue asymmetrical leather, the fingerless gloves, the sweeping cloak with the yellow lining and the stripes at the hem. Not his favorite colors, but the outfit as a whole served him well before, as did the charming smile he puts on in greeting.

"You may find, friend, that not everyone here wants their past laid out at the feet of total strangers, not matter how persuasive your approach. I wonder if you might have better luck with spying, rather than asking directly?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem to be looking for the unfortunate dead. Is there a purpose to it or is it mere curiosity?"

[nomoreroom]

Now wasn't this fancy? Those ears swivel right around, the demon getting a good look at the fellow who's just stepped up to speak. There was of course, perhaps things reminiscent of the style, at least, in Hell. Something else however, seems to be keeping Alastor's piercing, hellfire stare locked on the man.

Smile for smile, though Alastor's hardly softens in the slightest.

"Makin' it sound like I might have an ulterior motive, sir! I can guarantee, its just curiosity, my friend, just a little bit of curiosity. Can't blame a man for bein' a little curious!"

He was approaching Loki now, of course, at a rather rapid pace. Even if he were lying about everything else here, curiosity did at least seem to play a large part in this. Alastor sure seemed fascinated.

"Well sir, birds of a feather! I'm what you could call a member of the unfortunate dead myself! Wouldn't call myself unfortunate, no, not any more, but dead? Well I can't argue with that, my friend.

Why not find more dead folks? Nothin' wrong with findin' your people, right?"

[coldsong]

He's fast. And very tall. Loki doesn't normally have to look up at people unless they're the Hulk, or Thanos, and he's not a fan of either of them. The jury is still out on this person, but he decides to keep an eye to his personal space, just in case. Being manhandled gets old fast. We are not doing 'get help'. Outwardly, though, he's relaxed, shoulders back and head up, smile never flickering on his face. Court manners.

"What's so wrong with having an ulterior motive?" He asks mildly. "Most people have them. And it's a good thing they do, I think, rather than going around babbling all their innermost thoughts and desires. No one wants to to through the world surrounded by that level of tedium."

He clasps his hands behind his back, taking the opportunity to get a better look at Alastor's costume and body language. Visually, they're something of a contrast, dark versus bright red. There is power simmering under the surface of Loki's skin, centuries worth of illusions and trickery, and ice.

"It sounds as if you're offering a support group," he says, eyes sparkling briefly with mirth. "A noble effort! All I mean to suggest is that asking directly may only yield partial results. If I were you, I think I'd be keeping an eye on the bars, perhaps around the Underbelly. There is always someone with a sad and shady story to tell there. They're not all dead, but some are, and those that aren't are, frankly, probably not all that long for the land of the living, themselves."

[brother_alone]

"Hey, bro. You mind moving those gazelle legs somewhere else? You're in the way."

Tired.

Joshua is so tired, these days. He's wearing his little delivery boy jacket with one of the local cafe's logos on the back of it. Holding a box of lunches he's supposed to be delivering to the business this tall motherfucker is currently blocking the entrance to. He doesn't want to stop and think, to answer questions.

But this one needles at him, and not just because of the static and out of tune radio for a voice the red suited thing was speaking with. The creature sounds like something out of his nightmares, and that smile he can see just in his peripherals...it's familiar.

"Does anyone start from down there, by the way? That's got to be the worst luck in all the mulitverse, to end up in a place like that without earning it."

[nomoreroom]

"Hahaha, I don't mind at all." He said, as he didn't move a single inch. He doesn't mind moving out of the way.

... He's just not going to.

He is, however, going to bend, just at the waist, peering at this newest development, before looking to the box of lunches.

"Well, old Lucifer and his kid Charlie sure started down there, I can tell you that! Most of us though, most of us just sort of stumble on down there, son.

Well, some stumble, other's get hurled face first! Depends on what you did, I guess!" Still not getting out of the way, still eyeing those lunches.

"What's the rush, kiddo?"

[brother_alone]

He's gonna have to bend pretty far. Joshua is many things but tall is not one of them. And damn if it isn't grating to have someone call him kiddo, like he's some brat that needs pandering to.

"Lucifer wasn't born down there, was he? They told us he used to be some kinda angel before he got into a dick waving contest with God." His kid though, that probably would have happened down there, surely. Or at least on Earth. Antichrist and all that. If you believe in biblical mythos at least. "Point is, why would you expect anyone here to be from there when you can see for yourself how much you stick out like the worlds gaudiest sore thumb."

A bit of steam wafts off the boxed lunches. Josh taps his foot impatiently waiting for the demon or whatever it is to just move....and there's a crackle of static. All the color bleeds out of the world leaving Alastor alone with a gaunt face glaring up at the demon. It's mouth draws back to reveal needle-like fangs in a show of force. Jagged razor sharp nails close over Joshua's shoulder possessively and the creature opens it's mouth and shrieks with a wail of a thousand blizzards rattling windows.

Bringing everything into tune again.

"...you even listening to me, bro? I'm on the clock. Move it."