Oct 10, 2017

IO: Mantle infections are Hell's immune responses to trauma upon the mantle. Infections that take place near metropolises will affect sewage and foundations depending on how deep or wide-spreading the infection is. Pipes can become bent, broken, and clogged with congealed blood, buildings squeezed out of their foundations by swelling, and streets flooded by free-flowing pus.

Oct 16, 2017

IO: The Mind Beast, Ranth, is a demon considered to be more dead or undead than alive. Having perished and its body reduced to dust eons ago, Ranth does not exist in the physical sense, appearing only in the mindscape during dreams, or superimposed upon the real world by the mind. Ranth devours individuals from within, consuming their physical bodies as a wasting sickness with no recognised trigger or origin.

Affliction by Ranth has no known set cause. Any being can be set upon by it at any time. Theories and rumours proclaim that becoming burdened with the long-dead demon is caused by the inhalation of the demon's ashes, or "inviting" an afflicted individual into their own mind, permitting Ranth to take root there and grow. Those struck by Ranth will experience ever-growing exhaustion, caused by nightmare-plagued sleep. Sufferers will steadily decline in health, and any trauma experienced while dreaming will manifest as sores upon the waking body. Memories of the nightmares experienced will quickly fade, replaced by vague recollection of fleeing from an unknown force and being lost, searching in darkness.

In dreams, Ranth cannot be seen, as their form envelopes that of the host. The nightmares dreamt by the afflicted are those of Ranth itself wandering the decaying tunnels of the individual's mind. The demon can only be "seen" when decay of the afflicted's mind has reached such a point that they begin to hallucinate. At this stage, Ranth can appear anywhere, wandering in the background. Those with healthier minds may instead see the demon reflected in mirrors.

As a demon, Ranth is a hulking creature apeish in stature. Its arms are composed of multiple limbs seemingly melted or fused together, its hands a mess of pale fingers. Its lower back and legs appear atrophied and crooked and bent as if broken multiple times and never properly reset. Its face is hidden under thick ropes of red-pink meat that sprout from the scalp like errant brain matter. Its eyes are small and often misaligned. It's mouth is thin-lipped and hides spring loaded jaws. Ranth is not known to speak, making only unearthly calls and laboured breathing.

The circumstances of Ranth's death and unique life-after-death existence are unknown but are assumed to be related to the feelings of being pursued in nightmares experienced by the afflicted. Some propose that Ranth had been searching for something or someone before being chased down and presumably murdered by an unrelated entity or force that, quite possibly, still pursues it in the mindscape either in reality or in memory.

It is believed that Ranth can be afflicted upon a person as a summon or curse, but the means to do so are unclear at best, or lost at worst. Overall, as an entity the overall existence of Ranth is highly questionable, as there is no way to confirm the demon's alleged existence without performing what is generally considered to be impossible, which is the treading within another individual's dreams while one or the other is infected. The acknowledgement of the demon as an entity or as a mere concept is afforded only by corroborating accounts that describe the physical and psychological degeneration of individuals suffering from wasting sickness, alleged to have seen a figure in mirrors, shadows, and dreams with features consistent amongst multiple instances from multiple sources. The veracity of such claims has been difficult to prove, muddied with theories claiming falsified accounts to copycatism to purposeful conspiracy, citing script similarities to localisation of choice events to questionable consistencies between accounts as evidence of hoaxery.

Oct 24, 2017

IO: Xeres women look for three non-genetic traits in men when participating in courtship - rearing experience and attitude, ability to nurse and experience therein, and strength in the lower back. Child rearing is communal in Xeres populations, all Xeres adults participate in raising offspring.

Xeres men can be highly competitive amongst each other when vying for female attention, attempting to put each other out of commission or otherwise seem undesirable to interested women. Being able to provide for offspring alongside their mate is their most important duty when paired, and being robbed of this or otherwise made to appear incapable of performing this integral duty will drastically reduce a male's chances of being considered for pairing for both long and short-term relationships. The man's ability to provide supercedes his ability to reproduce in social importance, making competition less sexually oriented, but still highly physical and at times incredibly violent. Bachelors will go to considerable lengths to lock out competition if able, and will gang up on individuals if the benefits outweigh personal risk.

Sabotage of another male's chances of being paired with an able-bodied female is common amongst Xeres bachelors, whos strategies include targetting other men's ability to nurse. Ability to breastfeed and quality of lactation (which females will test themselves) is a judging factor used by Xeres women to find a partner, and the inhibiting of either of these will result in great risk of the male being rejected. Bachelors enact nursing sabotage in passive and active ways, ranging from stealing food to affect the composition of their competition's breast milk, or outright physical assault to affect another male's ability to nurse overall. Chest trauma to spur tenderness or bloody lactation is a common tactic. Extreme tactics include forcing competition dry and outright masectomy. Both tactics are rare, but not unheardof. The former is also used as a means of humiliation to chase out competition or otherwise prevent competition from returning.

In regards to musculature in the lower back, Xeres men advertise their ability by standing and remaining bipedal for as long as possible. Remaining and walking bipedally takes considerable strength in the glutes and lower back, and to remain upright is generally seen as quiet but pointed commentary on one's sexual ability. While not especially important as an overall trait, advertising men who can flaunt their strength will be targetted by other bachelors who will attempt to inflict back injury on their competition to reduce their attractiveness.

Most Xeres relationships, long or short term, are monogamous, though it isn't uncommon for a high-ranking female to have multiple partners. A clear exception to this standard are the Xeres within the Ranks, the Xeres equivalent of a barracks, where groups of males and females will "share" each other. Ranks are jokingly referred to as hot spots for one-night stands - ideal for Xeres men "looking for too much attention". Xeres populating Ranks are non-producing and non-nursing, whether by season or circumstance. In being both out of season and non-nursing, sexual activity in Ranks is low and noncommittal. Frustrated in-season or nursing males looking for definite attention may attempt to get a rise out of either Xeres men or women attending Ranks by inviting themselves in while receptive to nursing. Nursing produces chemicals / pheromones of which non-seasonal and non-nursing Xeres can be highly receptive, inspiring desire and in turn inspiring competition. If not immediately seized by interested Rank members, physical competition for the visitor will arise, which can result in them being roughhoused or injured. Reckless men looking for such action are recommended, with no small amount of sniggering, to have "a very strong back" and be fond of kneading.

While not considered sexual organs, kneading of the breasts between adults is considered highly erotic, verging on if not becoming pornographic if one or both adults are lactating. Kneading with intent to expel breast milk is considered on par with masturbation if not simply regarded as an equivalent. Releasing milk in this way is seen as irresponsible, especially should it hit the ground. Breast milk being purposefully expelled to the ground is intensely disrespectful amongst Xeres, serving as a cause for chastising and as a point for facilitating humiliation in individuals, utilised by combative populations, spiteful bachelors, and other malicious individuals to show they have no regard or respect for their enemy / victim - they and whatever they produce is worthless. For this reason, sexual kneading is done over cloth or water. Expulsion for medical purposes is readily recognised as beneficial, but still demanded to be done respectfully to retain the individual's dignity.

Induced lactation is common amongst traditionally-raised Xeres relocated out or otherwise away from the Shard of Babylon, generally performed out of a culmination of homesickness and feeling as though their individual worth needs to be reaffirmed. The latter is especially prevalent in Xeres men, who put greater weight upon the ability to nurse than Xeres women.

The breast milk of healthy Xeres adults with an average metal diet boasts a partial sheen of white metal.

In general, in both long and short-term relationships, Xeres women take care of and protect the men with whom they're paired, for so long as they provide support and care for her and her offspring in turn. She will extend the same treatment and expectations to any additional men under her partnership should she decide to pair with more than one male at a time for long or short-term relationships. Some Xeres women will maintain multiple relationships of varying length at once, usually with each male fulfilling a specific personal role to her or even to her other partners in exchange for care and protection.

Single and multi-sex communes are not uncommon amongst Xeres, the Ranks acting as one such common-living arrangement, albeit temporary (for some) and only for specific individuals. A particular commune prevalent throughout the districts of the Shard of Babylon is the Commune of the Dismal Chant - a collection of churches, where members practice Celestial hymns, warped by Hell's touch upon the species, to Aurum Saccularius and Hell itself. Each district will possess at least one Commune of the Dismal Chant, and more often than not, the average Xeres will have spent at least some time there as a member of the commune. Each church commune will possess a belfry of 17 iron bells. Only 16 of any commune's bells will ring at one time, with the 17th, largest bell left silent. Should the largest bell sound in a full peal of all 17 bells, it is considered a call to arms, and all Xeres within earshot will descend upon the church's location. The use of these bells is assumed to be a call-back to when the Xeres were the Heavenly Golden Legion, whos arrival was heralded by the sound of tolling bells.

The Xeres army, referred to only by external entities as the Golden Legion [a singular reference to the Golden Legion can be found in the Shard of Babylon's only Chapel, under the face of the Wheel of Fortune, serving as its only "scribed" connection with the Xeres. The Xeres, fully aware of their heritage, otherwise refer to themselves as a whole as the Golden Legion, but this is not shared amongst outsiders], is stationed throughout the Shard of Babylon, but its greatest members are stationed only around the base of the Wheel. Highest members of the Xeres military are referred to as being "a part of the Chalice" or "a part of the Wheel", acting as a dedicated attack force under the orders of Aurum Saccularius and his envoys only. Keeping to their Celestial roots, members of this faction of the Xeres army are referred to as a Choir. The Chalice Choir / Choir of the Chalice (less often referred to as the Wheel Choir / Choir of the Wheel) is composed of Xeres who can be described as undead or golems. Members of the Chalice Choir have trained so rigorously under the light of the Wheel and their dedication to it and Aurum is so immense that their bodies have undergone partial or whole alchemic alteration. Lifeless and broken figures are kept moving through the sheer force of desire of restless Xeres souls who refuse to relent in their dedication. Xeres of the Choir can appear to be wholly or partially crafted from gold or built from a trove of treasure. Many will bear the resemblance of exhumed corpses resurrected to be decked in splendor. However many members of the Chalice Choir are truly living versus dead is unknown.

Hell's Heat Death begins as the universe contracts and sentient life begins to die off. With no one left to believe in it, Hell dies. As it dies, the plane and all of its Levels begin to slow their spin, cool, and eventually freeze over, steadily killing all demons left within. By this time, there are few to no damned available. Demons begin to turn on each other in search for warmth and resources, their cities collapsing and entire species dying off. Hell's final metropolis (Henxad [?]) is built around the cooling body of the Demon Star, Algol, who ceases to rise and settles upon the mantle of Pandemonium. As the star cools and its light slowly dies, the city inches closer to it to feed off of its declining warmth, the outer districts steadily abandoned as Hell's chill creeps in.

Before Hell's final death, all life within it becomes extinguished until only Hell itself is left. The plane collapses like a dying star, reduced to ether.

Nov 09, 2017

IO: Cracaus and Volons absorb the anger of the demons and damned sent to the Coliseum to fight for the Conflictor's amusement, thought to have been present since the edifice was built. It's believed that between the two is the soul of the Coliseum, and if the two should ever be vanquished, the Coliseum would collapse and Rrg'mndrr itself would split from canopy to roots.

Oct 10, 2017

HELL 2525: Dis' immense size affords the mentality that another district of the city may as well be a literal other world. While the near-instant travel afforded by its rail system permits connection between the distant pieces of the sprawl, their use is not so ubiquitous as to unify the lightyears-wide city. The sole recurring cultural standpoint throughout Dis is the Word of the House of the Fly and the presence of the Grand Chapel of Hell in the city's center, but as an entity is it considered distant and unreliable the further out from the center districts one goes. The lack of blanket trust in the House inspires local law and enforcement that grows in conflict with the laws of the House.

In earlier years these conflicts and lack of faith were dealt with via sectioning portions of the city to vassals who were beholden to the House of the Fly and the Ambassadors of Darkness. However, as the city expanded with Hell's shifting discs, this became too great a burden for the vassals, and the districts given to them were then sectioned further and given their own figures of order who would answer to the vassals, who would in turn continue to answer to the House of the Fly and its Ambassadors. As time passed and the city further grew, the division and trickling of power and answering to greater entities was expanded and divided several times, creating a multi-tiered system of management under the direct word of the House of the Fly. The watchfulness of the House was diluted and the cries of Dis' many peoples were subdued under layers of tiered paperwork and political disconnect. Corruption could be hidden under fine print shuffled into reports of thousands of pages; needs of entire communities could be lost in reels of numbers and averages. Outside of personal audience with the Fly in its own House, concerns were unlikely to be heard. It did not help that each rise and fall of the Demon Star, Algol, would see the demise of trillions of demon folk as millions of miles would be evaporated into non-existence, to be rebuilt, re-sectioned, and re-drawn under new rulership. As Dis continued to grow, such tragedies would become mere blips and notations in headlines for those on the other side.

The year of 2525 sees the beginning of rumours that Hell itself is dying, that its edges grow cold with an advancing sheet of ice. These rumours and calamity-speak spread eagerly in Dis' outer districts, where the assurances of the Fly cannot reach with ease. Whether these rumours hold any kernel of truth or are the product of an unhappy, squalid people that have no use for the House and its promises, nobody knows and nobody much cares. They feed the social machine that keeps trust in and recognition of the House of the Fly and its Ambassadors low and distant.

The district inhabited by Matilda and Stirba possesses an active rumour mill purporting claims of a new war on the horizon, built off the back of attacks carried out by Rogues. Alongside this claim is the rumour that Algol will be rising under the city again, and the district will be flooded with evacuees if not served its own evacuation orders soon. Variations of the rumour claim that Algol's rising location is unknown or the estimates of its emmergence are incorrect.

Evacuation orders are given to the district neighbouring Matilda and Stirba's, forcing it to take in millions more demons than it can accommodate. Raphi is one such evacuee, who rooms with Matilda for a short time before revealing they are not of demon stock. The proximity of the rising permits the viewing of a sunrise, a rare and reviled occurance in Hell. Heatwaves strike the district and light blares down on the streets for several days before Algol rises high enough to be swallowed by Dis' ceiling, reducing the district's activities to a crawl. The rising is followed by multiple days of heavy blood rains and temporary mantle infections as Hell reacts to its mantle being burned and torn apart. A far-reaching infection affects the plumbing of their flat building, making clean blood and water a rare commodity for a short time. Petty crime centered around the attainment of either spikes considerably, which the two eventually partake in out of desperation.

As the rising takes place, a curfew is enacted to encourage inhabitants to remain indoors to combat cases of blindness. Windows become quickly boarded to shield those within from the star's light.

Oct 17, 2017

HELL 2525: Evacuations to escape Algol are planned and begin months in advance, as any rising or setting will lead to the destruction of millions of miles of developed land. Predictions must be accurate, as the resources involved in moving and rehoming so many demon folk is astronomical and any errors will lead to colossal waste of investment. Advices to move to a neighbouring district within a minimum safe distance are sent in advance of municipally directed evacuation procedures, with the calculated center of the rising or setting being advised or evacuated first. Raphi is one of those given advanced advice to move, originally coming from the center of the district that would be affected by Algol's most recent rising under Dis. By arriving in advance of the evacuee flood, he is able to take up Matilda's offer to room with her and Stirba before their neighbourhood over-saturates and demons begin to close their doors on those still in need of housing.

The aftermath of Algol's rising sees a wide-spread mantle infection followed by the descent of a dust / flake banket over the surrounding districts. The blanket is the dried and burned remains of Hell's skin and meat thrown up by the destruction caused by the star. Streets closest to the rising are choked with the material, affecting visibility and air quality to such a degree that some areas beyond the rising's blast zone are abandoned, worsening the housing crisis.

Oct 23, 2017

HELL 2525: Tsur is a Rogue (Fallen?) Angel with a fascination with the sensation of touch. They are serpentine in appearance, covered in white, pearled scales, possessing five tails and a red feathery mane. Via their obsession with touch they have become enamoured with the concept of physical intimacy.

Nov 01, 2017

HELL 2525: Matilda and Stirba have their prejudices that spark minor conflicts between them and / or other residents. Matilda possesses racist / speciesist tendancies, while Stirba is noticeably sexist. Conversely, one is egalitarian on topics of racial / species divide, while the other is egalitarian on sex / gender politics. Matilda's discrimination stems in part by her upbringing by Motherkin living in Dis, exacerbated by personal experience of being targetted for her heritage (mystique surrounding the Golden Legion is still strong amongst greater Hell after the War's conclusion). Her non-judgemental stance on the sexes is derived from her experience as a sex worker, where she's had many clients speak candidly about personal desire (as a part of business). Stirba's prejudices stem from insular Lovacoan tradition regarding gender roles, perceiving men in general to be untrustworthy for their "lack of perception and self-control of their emotional instincts". Racially, she is accommodating and does not pass judgement, built from personal experience in having to rely on others of another traditional background / language / etc in order to survive as a mercenary / Rogue hunter.

A common slur against Xeres is "gold-eater" / "gold-shitter" in reference to the species diet of precious metals and materials. Matilda has the latter thrown at her in passing a jewelry store that had been recently broken into and robbed. Matilda retorts in kind and the encounter devolves into a racial epithet exchange, which shocks Stirba.

A common stereotype against men is that in being physiologically smaller and generally weaker than their counterparts, men overall are only good for copulation, cannot be trusted outside of menial tasks, and are incapable of child rearing on their own. Stirba openly refers to Raphi as an "untrustworthy parasite good only for book-reading" upon their first meeting in response to Matilda offering him temporary lodging in her flat, which shocks Matilda.


Aug 28

IO: Imp species by Level:
- Scarab Imp [Pride]: subsists off of fecal and decayed matter
- White Imp [Pride]: subsists off of fungus and decaying matter
- Locust Imp [Pride]: subsists off of flesh / meat, moves in clouds / swarms
- Monmocus [Pride]: subsists off of dead / dying cells / skin, accompanies sentient cancers

- Black Imp [Gluttony]: subsists off of filth / anything
- Kalfian [Gluttony]: subsists off of Motherkin egg deposits / embryos, blood
- Ghost Imp [Gluttony]: subsists off of water, larvae feed from unattended meat

- Bauble Imp [Wrath]: subsists off of blood, meat
- Mogen [Wrath]: subsists off of blood of the Tree of Violence
- Skeever [Wrath]: subsists off of blood
- Craven Imp [Wrath]: subsists off of meat, decaying matter, fungus

- Yellow Imp [Greed]: subsists off of grubs, fungus, decayed matter, produces fake coins
- Thief Fingers [Greed]: subsists off of blood and fecal matter, steals / hoards shiny objects
- Silver Imp / Beggar's Tears [Greed]: subsist off of blood, hang from hosts like jewelry
- Deweaver [Greed]: subsist off of grains and textiles

- Bogscrew Imp [Sloth]: subsists off of blood

- Grey Imp / Lucifer's / Dragon's Itch [Lust]: subsists off of blood and meat

- Red Imp [Dis]: subsists off of anything

- Green Imp [Pandemonium]: subsists off of anything

Aug 29, 2017

IO: Xeres are regularly plagued by Silver Imps, known as Beggar's Tears as an affliction. Silver Imps are small and animalistic in intelligence. They are a biting, blood sucking species known to spread disease and cause general malaise in victims.

Silver Imps possess sharp, hooked mouth parts that act like needles, hooking deeply into the flesh of the host. Once embedded, the Imp will hang from the host from its inserted mouth parts and feed freely, its body slowly bloating. As the Imp feeds, its abdomen will expand and turn a deep red, appearing as a large, scarlet teardrop, which gives the Imp its colloquial name.

Once bitten, most Xeres opt to simply yank the Imp from their person, which generally results in the death of the Imp. While effective, this method is not recommended, as the forceful removal of the pest in this fashion often leaves the mouth parts still embedded in the skin, leaving a free-flowing wound. If all mouth parts do get removed successfully in this way, it is often at the expense of making the bite wound itself bigger, the skin splitting with the hooks' removal. Both instances can lead to infection.

Dimly aware that their victims are capable of removing them, Silver Imps attempt to bite in hard to reach portions of the body and attack during night cycles when the target host is asleep. Heavily afflicted individuals may be covered in Silver Imps, imparted disease and blood loss making the removal of the pests all but impossible.

Aug 31, 2017

IO: Lelial and Vovere remain in Pride for an extended period of time before answering to the Voice of Hell and attempting to escape for the Abyss. The two leave as a pair and manage to stick together throughout their journey through Hell. Their large size makes inconspicuous escape difficult, and they become targets for beast drivers regularly. Later, in an effort to reach Hell's center faster, the two permit themselves to be captured and used as beasts of burden to get as close to exit sites as possible before attempting escape to the next Level below. They repeat this process multiple times in Hell's cities.

As "partners in crime" in life and further in Hell, Lelial and Vovere cannot be separated in Hell in the definitive sense. If one dies, the other will birth their twin, who will rapidly grow to full size. The other twin does not need to be alive for this process to take place, it is only a factor of convenience, or lack thereof. Should both twins be destroyed at the same time, their remains will coalesce into a nourishing sac and reanimate into the opposite brother. As a process, depending on whether or not both brothers are dead, the rebirth of either Lelial or Vovere will take between a mere few minutes to an hour.

Sep 01, 2017

IO: Matilda's condemnation of the Court of Charity comes after her participation in the Dement'ted War and earning the title of Matilda the Great. By this time, "Temptress" has been gifted to Dis as a display of goodwill and faith towards the House of the Fly. When she enters the Court, she is scarred and battle-battered.

Sep 07, 2017

IO: One of Urz's names amongst humans is "The Liar". This is contrary to her character, as she is incapable of lying. However, she is a master at verbal dexterity - obfuscation and obtuseness are her primary defenses against exploitation of her truthfulness, giving vague, backwards answers that still technically count as truth. Rumours abound in occult circles claiming that Urz can be made to give a straight answer if she is bound for twenty days and the summoner is in possession of the Lesser Temptation Tongue of Babel. Some believe that Urz will give straight answers to those who can speak any of the three Heights of Infernal, but this is considered impossible as the act of speaking Infernal of any Height causes deformation of the skull in folk of human heritage. Engaging Urz in a contest of verbal endurance is thought to be another answer for drawing clear truth out of her, but as of modern times no one has been able to answer this challenge. The last individual to attempt it was a monk who died after fifteen days of attempting to outwit the demon, his lungs discovered to be full of ash.

Urz retrieves "items and persons of interest" to return / bring to Hell. Her lack of true free will makes her ideal for the job as she is ultimately unable to refuse orders regardless of personal interests. While her character leaves some to be desired and her inability to lie is considered a liability, she is effective and thus far has never been beaten or "cheated" out of a retrieval. The demon is well-known by occultists, as she is a pronounced threat to their practices and collections of infernal goods. While she can be in many places at once, she is not omnipresent nor omniscient, which diabolic practitioners use to keep her as far away from their ill-gotten possessions as possible. The fabled volumes of the illegal Book of Blood are her primary targets amongst humans. The books are kept in near-constant transit to prevent their easy retrieval by the demon.

A common myth amongst occultists is that Urz is forbidden by infernal law to kill mortals in the process of retrieval, as it is considered an act of potential Interference. This is not wholly correct. Urz is free to take the lives of those who actively obstruct her duty, and, to a certain extent, the definition of "active obstruction" is largely up to her to decide. She may not take the lives of the uninvolved, but she is not required to protect or otherwise prevent harm done to them in the process of retrieval. In general, however, Urz avoids contact and conflict as she considers "bartering" with human beings to be trite and without entertainment value.

Urz hides seamlessly in deep shadows and crowds, where her shape-shifting serves her best.

Sep 13, 2017

IO: Cracaus and Volons are large-bodied demons [conglomerate Damned?] based in Wrath's Colosseum. One is dressed in wear reminiscent of Roman gladiatorial warriors, the other reminiscent of a barbarian. Cracaus wears a decorative gladiatorial helmet, which it is never seen without. Volons' head and face is obscured by, if not utterly composed of, a nest of stained antlers and jawbones. The two are considered the "pets" of the Conflictor, offering hours of entertainment to the Level Lord through tireless slaughter.

Sep 14, 2017

HELL 2525: "You fancy yourself a detective now? HA! That's rich."
> Richer than you.
> What, you don't care about your girls?
> Whoring gets boring.
> Fuck off, Monla.

"What's your sin?"
> Buy.
> Sell.
> Repairs.
> Toodles.

Sep 21, 2017

HELL 2525: Urz has been reincarnated as Isxunhek's [?] guard [?], who visits Dis regularly as a part of the Lord's train. Urz is a brawler, specialising in hand-to-hand combat. She is arrogant, sarcastic, and insecure, hiding the latter under a constant grin and a litany of sharp words.

Urz's physical appearance in Hell's dismal future is a call-back to her original design circa 2006. She sleeps poorly, suffering regular nightmares of chains and "a gate / door" from which she cannot escape. The only time she feels truly "secure" is when she is with her Master. It is also only within Isxunhek's presence that she is able to sleep restfully.

Urz has killed an Angel in defense of Isxunhek, making her a minor target for Rogue activity. Her inability to lie has generated some interest around her both within and outside of Rogue circles.

Oct 02, 2017

HELL 2525: "Greyface" is a racial slur referring to Shape-Shifters / Doppelgangers, used predominantly in Dis. Considered highly untrustworthy for their lack of free will and the Founder's reputation as a ruling figure in Hell, Shape Shifters are avoided by the general populace and their presence is known to raise tensions and suspicions of surveillance. The species overall, under no fault other than the biological anchors of their sociology, is readily associated with authoritarianism, lack of empathy, and death of the "individual".

Urz is addressed as / referred to as a greyface by Matilda, who offhandedly comments "what is a greyface doing here?" upon noticing Urz running errands for Isxunhek in Dis' outer sprawl.

Urz is functionally mute. While she can create beastly noises, she cannot speak. Whether this is by choice or by order is unknown. Regardless, her cocky, arrogant demeanor remains. Much like her previous incarnation in the primary timeline, Urz has substantial issues with the desire to return to the genetic ocean of the Founder and the abandonment of consciousness for mental and existential silence.

Oct 03, 2017

HELL 2525: Orga is a Doppelganger of Urz, created via methods gleaned from the remnants of Maunstrou's technologies utilised prior to the end of the Dement'ted War. She is a part of a surveillance system newly deployed throughout Dis in an effort to curb increasing waves of violence in the massive city. Orga cannot speak, communicating via the creation of appendages that simulate "speech" when rubbed together. The auditory result is highly off-putting.

Similar to true Shape-Shifters, Orga has no true free will. Whatever she does possess as free will or personal agency is questionable in authenticity.

These "grown" / cloned Shape-Shifters are generally known as Half-Shifters, termed derogatorily as "greyfaces".

Half-Shifters are created and maintained by a engineered psuedo copy of the Founder, known as the Builder. The Builder acts like an information hub and transmitter hot spot for Half-Shifters of all grades.

Matilda's disdain for Half-Shifters becomes readily apparent when she and Stirba are tasked with the return of valuable information, held by Orga as a self-defending transport vehicle. Matilda has nothing but scorn for Orga, berating her lack of true free will and personal agency, which Orga believes she possesses. Orga eventually experiences an identity crisis that results in a mental breakdown, making her a hazard to the populace as she flips between connection and disconnection with the Builder, steadily frying her neural cells to a state of non-recovery. Orga's slow self-destruction is reflective of the extended death of Urz under the hand of Maunstrou.

The Builder's development was, as a system, not sanctioned by Dis' higher powers, much less the entity it is derived from. The Builder was conceived as a private service, fulfilling private orders and building clientele to eventually expand into the larger whole of Dis through the House of the Fly with the backing of a considerable list of customer satisfaction to show its effectiveness. Prior to its public unveiling, the Builder attained self-awareness in the likeness of the basal character of the Founder. Since its attainment of awareness, its connections and surveilence highways have spread like a disease through Dis' more squalid districts. For the time being its interests in performing its primary function are ambivalent, gathering and storing information. This ambivalence can be bought as a temporary service direct from the Builder, though via what means and at what price is unknown.

During her self-destruction, Orga is replaced by another clone, a second Orga who tracks the "original" clone, siphons what information can be salvaged from the melting brain, and destroys her predecessor. The second Orga then continues on her duties as if nothing has happened. The replacement Half-Shifter is red in colour whereas the previous is an off-grey purple.


Aug 03, 2017

HELL 2525: Many worm cultists aspire to become worm vessels, infested bodies fully occupied and puppeteered by parasites. Worm vessels are animated corpses, moved about by the writhing of their infection. Their movement is best described as incremental and jerking in nature. Worm vessels possess little to no remnants or utility of their former host's senses, and so are considered blind, deaf, and dumb. They will still react to stimuli, however, if the parasites themselves possess the senses required on their own. Cultists who are on their way to becoming vessels are removed from the cult's attendance with superficial ceremony, before being dumped in an area from which the vessel will not be able to return once the host dies.

Worm vessels are bloated in figure and heavily imbalanced. They are easily knocked over, but as an action this is not recommended. A bloated vessel will rupture with little difficulty, spilling its parasitic contents in a torrent.

Prostitution in Hell fills multiple niches; it provides services to individuals isolated from their species, and those looking for gratification without commitment. Isolation in Hell's cities is a real social issue, with multiple species and cultures becoming diluted or simply broken apart as the population fluctuates and cities shift. Individuals willing to accommodate tastes and physiologies different from their own, whether male, female, or otherwise, are well regarded throughout Hell as a remedy for social instability.


Aug 09, 2017

IO: Tick Trees are one of Hell's migrating forests. Tick trees bore into Hell's mantle to leech from its blood, uprooting and moving on when below-mantle wells dry up or become poisoned. Small groups of tick trees occasionally follow after Mausopines, taking advantage of fresh, surface-pooling blood as a quick meal between migrations to other, larger and longer-lasting blood wells. Gorged tick trees move slowly, and can be rendered off balance by wind while in transit. Toppled tick trees that are gorged on the blood of Hell will burst from the force of impact. Any surrounding tick trees will converge on the fallen grove-member to drink whatever's left behind.

THE HORSEMEN: Of the Horsemen, only Death and War are constant. Death is a cloaked being riding upon a cloaked steed. Death's face cannot be seen from under its covers, but when a hand emerges, it is skeletal and bright. The creature that bears it across existence is unknown, its figure permanently obscured by semi-transparent silk. The two carry starlight and the cold of space with them. Their arrival deadens sound, removes taste, and chills air. The approach of Death removes all fear and drive. Death's form is not known to change.

War's form changes constantly. As of current times, War's form is overtaken by its steed, a mechanical, treaded war machine threaded with meat. Its rider is encased within, pushing it onward into throngs of carnage.

The remaining Horsemen, Famine, Pestilence, and Conquest, form and emerge as required, sometimes as individuals, other times as conglomerates.

Aug 10, 2017

IO: Flash trees are a form of flora in Hell. Whether or not they are "actually trees" is unknown, as no one has been able to get close enough to examine them for study. Flash trees generate a bright blue light, and are accompanied by great fires. Whether or not the trees cause the blaze or are the result of one, is unclear. The glow caused by the trees serves as a pointed deterrent to most demonkind. The life cycle of a flash tree is a mystery, and their life spans seem to last the duration of the conflagrations with which they are paired. Sites previously occupied by flash trees and their fires are blackened and scarred, with the affected mantle often slow to repair itself.

Aug 11, 2017

IO: Worm Devil Motherkin / Fine Chefs possess three stages of adulthood; the first stage is a bipedal form common of modern Motherkin, a secondary transitional stage wherein the head and neck grow and expand beyond the accommodations of the torso, terminating in the third and final stage: the total discarding of the body below the neck, leaving the expanded head and neck to thrive and operate as would a snake or annelid. Transition from whole bodied to detachment of the neck is a time-consuming, resource-heavy affair that is terrifying to any other demonfolk around the affected Motherkin. Any demon, regardless of rank, that is smaller than her will be regarded as food.

The trigger to begin the transition is unknown, seeming to vary between individuals or reliant on a single specific or combination of specific factors that is difficult to obtain. High amounts of the oeperoane hormone are the only known constant required for a Worm Devil Motherkin to begin advancing from full bodied to detachment. As secretion of the hormone generally ceases upon adulthood and "baking" of an individual's class, what causes generation of excess oeperoane after adulthood in the species is unknown.

Transition to detachment begins with a lengthening and widening of the neck. The cervical vertebrae of the Motherkin will expand and produce cartilaginous buds between the base of the seventh cervical vertebrae and the first thoracic vertebrae. At the same time, the skull of the Motherkin will similarly begin to expand in size. The shifting in centre of gravity will force the demon to walk on all fours, using her knuckles to support her extra weight. As the neck expands and vertebral count begins to steadily increase, the Motherkin's internal organs will begin to shift upwards, pulling into the cavity of the lengthening neck. The process is not without pain, resulting in the demon being in a constant state of irritation and agony, causing insomnia.

Expansion of the vertebrae is not limited only to the scaling and duplication of the neck. As the vertebral count increases, a new set of rib scaffolding is created.

Termination of the transitional stage occurs when all internal organs have shifted from the torso to the neck, with apoptosis between the base of the new vertebrae and the top of the thoracic vertebrae prompting a breakage in the spine and eventual tearing of the elongated neck from the torso.


Jul 11, 2017

HELL 2525: Personal vendetta drives both Stirba and Matilda. Stirba has lost her son to a Rogue, who killed him as an "act of mercy in living an existence of filth" [a reflection of how she lost her son in the primary narrative as Queen Stirba]. Matilda was separated from her parents and later lost her legs to a Rogue, who assaulted and left her to die [a reflection of how she lost her parents in the primary narrative as Matilda the Great].

Jul 12, 2017

IO: Matilda the Great condemns the Court of Charity to dissolution through discovery that the Court abducted and killed her mother, Magdel, in attempts to gain knowledge and power over the Wheel of Fortune. Matilda is raised by her father and grandmother as a result of her mother's absence.

Matilda discovers the remainder of her mother's skeleton in the possession of the Court of Charity, recognising it via a physical defect in the skull Magdel gained through the loss of an eye in combat. Magdel's skeleton possesses a thin gold plating, gained naturally through the absurd metal consumption that is the Xeres diet, and via a genetic leftover from the species origin as the Golden Legion.

Matilda's condemnation of the Court of Charity comes hot on the heels of the Court's attempts at negotiation for the Wheel at the end of Ellis' term as Lord of Greed. Matilda is invited to the Court's chapel as a representative of Aurum Saccularius, with the Court's argument revolving around Ellis' dethronement and its implication that the Xeres will no longer need to hide. If able to live freely, surely the Xeres have no need of the Wheel. Matilda hears their request only out of good will gained by way of Mammon, who asks that Aurum at least speak to them to get them off of Greed's doorstep, having escalated their demands to the seat of the Fly with accusations of theft, finally revealing to limited higher Courts that the Wheel has not been present in Heaven for several millennia.

As a guest to the Court of Charity, Matilda the Great has no intention of giving or "sharing" the Wheel with the Court. She regards them with contempt, knowing full well the many times the Court has sent "envoys" to the Shard of Babylon to steal the Wheel. The Golden Legion still retains its spirit as the Xeres, and like Aurum she sees the Greed that continues to taint the Court of Charity. During a recess, Matilda explores the chapel, and finds hidden in a closet Magdel's polished skull. Enraged, she accosts the Court of Charity, damning its hollow values and escalating the table to a trial to which Aurum himself attends. During the trial, a minor follower of the Court of Charity tells Matilda how her mother died.

The stakes of the trial are for the Xeres the relinquishment of the Wheel of Fortune to the Court of Charity, the imprisonment and persecution of Aurum Saccularius and the descendants of the Golden Legon, and for the Court of Charity the persecution and dissolution of the Court of Charity's members and their descendants. The Court of Charity is found to be in contempt of the laws of Heaven and guilty of trespass and extortion, culminating in the dissolving of the Court and persecution of its members and former member's descendants. Aurum is found guilty of theft for masterminding the disappearance of the Wheel of Fortune and smuggling it illegally into Hell.

Jul 13, 2017

IO: NECMOZ: Necmoz is a location in Nowhere characterised by plains of metal and aberant technology. Necmoz possesses no recognisable constructed layout. Its landscape is entirely manufactured, but by what and for whom is unknown. Signs of design with intent for habitation is evident on a superficial level, but all edifices are unoccupied or possess internal design that is incompatible with basic living. Rooms may possess the frames and outlines of doors, but no actual working door. Walls may be punctured with pits sporting staircases or ramps leading into walls. Furnace-like objects may pose as windows, leaking fire across the roof, with smoke pooling on the floor. Entire rooms may be populated by sparking pyramidal objects, a recurring constructed object throughout all of Necmoz.

Necmoz's surface is flat and metal grilled. Any deviation from this standard is manufactured. Constructions never reach any further than 1,000 feet above "flat" level. Some edifices that reach this maximum height possess topmost floors that appear sheered or melted, polished to a perfect level grade. While the upper surface of Necmoz does not exceed 1,000 feet, construction extends below ground to such an extent as to be assumed potentially incalculable. While buildings appearing "above flat" possess a rounded propability of 73% of being conceivably "right side up" internally, rooms of constructions built "below flat" have a mere 12% chance of sharing this trait whether aligned with "flat" or inversed.

Spined, pyramidal constructions and objects are a recurring element in Necmoz, built to varying scales out of a variety of metal materials. All pyramids possess spined or serrated edges, and will either permanently or regularly be energised. The purpose of the pyramids, whether energised or cold, is unknown. Some pyramids are built naturally into the landscape, while others seem to be invasive, situated amongst materials that appear shorn or torn up as if by a great force. Energised pyramids will spark and hum continuously, and if in close enough proximity of another sparking pyramid, will produce pale blue arcing electricity. Energised pyramids with no nearby similarly energised constructions or otherwise conductive materials will arc and spark amongst their own spines. Whether or not a pyramid seems to have been purposely built or appears to be an invasive entity has no relation to whether or not it will arc amongst other energised pyramids.

Necmoz's skies are permanently turbulent, with clouds swirling as if being stirred in water. Lighting arcing within the storms regularly light up the landscape, but no bolts will strike the earth.

Any airspace below 1,000 feet above "flat" will be occupied by spined hydrons. These autonomous shapes will trundle through Necmoz's buildings above and below "flat" constantly but will follow no known patrol pattern or schedule. Hydrons are occasionally energised and will carry a spark between themselves and any immediate conductive surfaces. No hydron will sport any fewer than four sides and will never take on a pyramidal shape. Whether or not hydrons possess sentience or even basic intelligence is unknown.

Airspace below "flat" will be tinged with electricity. The deeper one goes, the thicker the charge, eventually tinting the air a pale blue and showing visible activity with arcing.

Necmoz is populated by active machinations both visible and unobservable. Metal groaning and hissing of steam can be heard throughout its landscape. Active machines can be seen throughout, performing duties that do not seem to serve any comprehensible end. Isolated pumps will slam against the ground, clusters of gears will turn with no observable connecting mechanism, and furnaces will occasionally blaze to engulf whatever is nearby with no source of ignition.

Necmoz is believed to be constantly shifting or to be potentially as vast as Hell itself. Unlike the Warren, Necmoz is recognised as a true location in Hell, through this recognition is extremely limited and proclaiming its existence is considered an admission of insanity. This is seen as apt as Necmoz's first description was accomplished by a Mathematician who, in the process of attempting to open a gateway to and see for himself the expanses of Nowhere, became a raving lunatic who managed to cut himself into eleven equally weighted pieces. Each portion of his body showcased repeated but precise stab wounds believed to have been made by a conical weapon.

Other Mathematicians and enthusiasts of Spaces Between Spaces have observed Necmoz, but even with exact coordinates repeated or shared between individuals, no explorer has broken into the same location twice, and no location has been observed more than once amongst multiple individuals.

Jul 18, 2017

IO: CHARDIS: A dangerous roaming entity in Nowhere, Chardis is less a location so much as a moving disaster. A manufactured disc crafted by unknown hands, Chardis is a colossal platform populated by graters, grinders, mulchers, and blades designed for shredding its environ. The metal disc exists in the midst of Hell's meat, but the exact location is unknown, believed to be constantly shifting in and out of the thinnest of layers of Hell's existence. Chardis spins, grinds, and tears its way through its surroundings, burning what it extracts as fuel to further power and propel itself forward. Spent char and ash are excreted from behind, swiftly swallowed by the gore of the burrow.

The purpose of Chardis is unknown, with theories abound on its origins. It is believed to be potentially two entities, living in a situational but mutually abusive symbiosis in an arguable war of attrition. A biological component to the machine squeezes out from its walls, observed only from within. The alien entity consumes what it can of Chardis and its haul of gore, while Chardis cuts away and gathers its flesh and excreta to burn and power its movement and repairs.

Chardis is recognised as a supernatural entity or phenomenon within common Hell, characterised by a distinct, insistent sawing or grinding noise in the ear and feelings of intense unease, perceptible only by the afflicted. The affliction is termed aptly Hum of Chardis, and is known to have a 100% rate of fatality. Those struck by the hum are often misdiagnosed with tinnitus, which is not corrected until the hum's later stages, wherein the constant internal noise rises to such a level that the victim is barely able to hear above the constant grinding. Accompanying the advancing racket is a creeping feeling of danger, with the afflicted becoming increasingly paranoid as the volume of the hum slowly rises. Late-stage sufferers experience insomnia, unable to sleep amongst the clamour, and will develop a tremor that manifests as a constant shiver. In the affliction's final stage, the tremor will develop into full-bodied spasms and seizures of such violence that victims experience fractures and breakages, muscuskeletal tearing, sudden bleeding from multiple orifices, and finally death. Those who perish by the hum of Chardis show upon autopsy mulched and liquefied viscera.

Gametes of Motherkin are isogamic, with gametes sharing the same size and construction across classes in a species. Across species, varying degrees of gamete monomorphy exists. As most Motherkin species are compatible and can interbreed on a genetic level, physical class as well as gamete and genital morphology serves as a hurdle to absolute inter-species compatibility. The only Motherkin species known to be able to supersede all genetic and morphological barriers is the Biohazard Motherkin strain birthed by Mardenta, who upon touch or consummation can absorb genetic information and produce genetically varied and viable offspring.

Propagation of the many Motherkin species is often likened to the spread of a fungus or infection. Young gestate and grow quickly and almost any adult member of any species can interbreed with another, making external population control excessively difficult and extinction a pipe dream.

Motherkin gametes can range in size from microscopic to macroscopic, and from fully reliant on the parent or host body to free moving and independent.

Jul 20, 2017

HELL 2525: Despite the species evolving away from super-species status and with it away from hyper-parasitism, the Volfen Worm Cult is alive and well in post-war Hell. Worm cults are spaced erratically about Dis with cult leaders and members forming gangs and viewing other worm cult establishments and their members as heretics. The worm cults enact territorial warfare with intent to convert, expunge, and humiliate.

No-Face Yukem is the current cult leader residing under the streets of Neon-Roller, a lavish pocket of outer Dis. Yukem is an albinistic Volfen who is without his entire top jaw. How he lost such a large portion of his face he keeps to himself. He wears a silver mask to hide the brunt of his deformity from view. As the destruction of his upper muzzle has greatly affected his ability to speak, Yukem employs a voice generator to give his speeches. He otherwise utilises grunts and gesturing to express himself.


Jul 06, 2017

HELL 2525: Bleaching is a form of organic contamination amongst Demons. A demon can become bleached by being assailed by malignant angelic light, which results in a drastic lightening of the skin, discolouration of deeper tissues, and in some cases, permanent blindness, or recurring waves of nausea. "Malignant light" is a wave of electromagnetic energy, generally released upon an angel's death. Spectacular destruction is what creates malignant light, though the conditions for "spectacular destruction" of an angel varies by species and circumstance. In the right circumstance, an angel can self-destruct to release malignant light.

Absorption of enough malignant light as a form of radiation can kill a demon, but this depends on the species of the dying angel, and the assailed demon. Matilda, upon finally killing Solphestriel, is engulfed by a wave of malignant light, which bleaches her body and leaves her with temporary nausea and permanent light sensitivity.

Maltilda and Stirba's team-up as mercenaries isn't completely random, the two know each other prior to Maltilda's encounter with Sophestriel.

Matilda's engagement in prostitution is both to earn wage and to fill a personal void of close contact. She doesn't feel anything towards her clients beyond basic obligation to fulfill a temporary contract of service, her goal is physical gratification and payment. Her first meeting with Stirba is during a session with a customer who is on Stirba's hit-list. Stirba's interruption is met with derision by Matilda, who tells her flippantly to "come back in 20." An argument ensues and the client, flustered and panicked, draws a weapon and attempts to take Matilda hostage against Stirba, who bites that she has no qualms with "running through a street bint" to get to him. Enraged, Matilda proclaims that she is no-one's meat shield, grabs the male demon, and strikes Stirba with him bodily, startling and knocking her over. The male demon curses at Matilda, who begins to strangle him. He attempts to bargain for his life, saying he can't pay her if he's dead. Matilda replies that she already knows where he keeps his money, and breaks his neck.

Their second encounter is during one of Stirba's hunts for a Rogue, with the angel being de-winged to crash to DIs' streets, a stone's throw from Matilda's proposition corner. The entity attempts to escape, attacking what demons it can as it flees from Stirba, who descends upon it at speed. The sheer size of the angel prevents a quick kill, proving problematic as it wrecks havoc on the public. Stirba severs the angel's legs, immobilising it but not nullifying its ability to retaliate. It strikes at her with tendrils of light, catching her. Seeing the battle from her corner, Matilda wrenches a street sign from the concrete and takes a running leap at the angel, driving the sign into its neck, killing it. Stirba, freed, comments in good humour that this is the second time Matilda has "stolen" a kill from her, recognising her from their previous encounter. She offers to buy her a drink, which Matilda accepts. The two chat over bar food and become acquaintances.

2017-06-19 [other nonsense]

Stardust Highway [circa 2012, unfinished]

Eggman Industries was hardly a glowing welt in the distance. The last of his pursuers had been left in the dust miles ago, but he didn't stop. Dark wild grasses flew past under a darker sky. The tang of rain was in the air, and he would need shelter.

Sonic chastised himself. If he had been faster, he could have been miles ahead of the looming storm, but he had wasted too much time at the terminals. He'd have to let the kid know that his codes hadn't worked quite as well as he had promised. Nonetheless, he had what he'd come for; and once again, the fat man hadn't been able to stop him. It almost felt easy now, slipping past the same guards, foiling the same sentries. He thought the "genius" would have at least upgraded his minions' software by now. He guessed the man's purse wasn't so deep, maybe the Eggman was finally under pressure from authorities for his less-than-legal monopolies and was probably busy buying their silence.

The roar of the rain rose behind him as the storm finally caught up. Within seconds he was completely soaked. Aug, nasty! There was nothing worse than being wet. He needed to find somewhere to take cover while the storm passed.

His original path was out of the question; with rain this heavy, the marshes would be flooded in less than a half-hour, and he wouldn't be able to cross in even double that time. If he wanted to stay dry he'd have to make a detour and head for higher, less covert ground. It was a bad idea to tarry so close to Eggman's territory, but Mother Nature wasn't exactly giving him a choice. The marshes would be too dangerous in such weather, but at least the rain would limit the performance of any robots that could possibly still be after him. He doubted he was still being followed however, as he'd never seen any of the bolt-buckets follow him for greater than a spare few miles at most - they could never keep up.

The incline of the grassy plains grew steeper, the slightest outlines of concrete poking out from the distance. There had been a themed resort here at one point. It still stood but only just. It had been a profitable oasis of parks, shops, and luxury hotels, unreachable but for the single highway that arched over the marshes to connect to civilisation beyond. He'd been there once, when he had been a lot smaller. He had managed to get to the gates of one of the many amusement parks - the roller coasters had looked so awesome - before being chased away by the automated security. It was bust and ruined now, not a soul had passed through it in eleven years. Sonic could only guess what had made the place close up shop so suddenly.

The chain link fence bordering the resort was still standing, for the most part. With his bag of spoils slung over his shoulder, he clambered over and headed for the nearest buildings. Everything was grey, the bright paint that he remembered long gone. Most of the walls were still intact, and with the rain still pounding down, would provide excellent shelter until the showers stopped. He dove towards the nearest hotel. The rusted revolving glass door proved to be a bit of a problem, but nothing a stray hunk of concrete couldn't fix. Inside, the interior was all but entirely empty. Bare tile dominated everything, there wasn't a carpet or throw rug in sight. Not a single piece of furniture occupied the gloomy corners. Sockets that should have been festooned with bulbs and chandeliers had been stripped to nothing but wire. He could only assume the place had been a lot better-looking when it was still in business.

Not really liking the look of the lobby, Sonic made for the stairs. The heavy door to the steps was just as stubborn as the revolving portal before it, but concrete stones weren't really a viable solution this time. A few hard shoves forced the slab open just enough for him to squeeze though. Debris littered the stairwell; concrete, metal, and what was left of a pack of cardboard packing boxes. What little illumination the moon had to offer filtered through a sizeable hole high in the wall, shedding just enough light to navigate by.

Getting to the second floor was easy enough, entry to the hallway was thankfully unobscured. The walls and floor were just as naked as the lobby downstairs. He gravitated to the first room with an open doorway. The hotel must have been expensive to stay at, the rooms were admirably large. The carpet was, amazingly, still intact - stained a full range of unflattering colours. Pocks in the floor marked where the bed frame and other pieces of luxury had stood once-upon-a-time. Still quite wet, he tossed his pack into a corner and threw off his shoes to dry. The room would do. A window gave a rainy view of the abandoned streets below. He kept away from it, he didn't need to see more rain, he'd had enough rain to last him forever.

Sonic sat himself down against the wall kitty-corner to the window. Everything was a drab grey-blue.

What a depressing place! He hoped the rain would pass on soon. The sooner he could leave, the better. Bright lances curved through the sky beyond his window, briefly painting the hovel white. A low boom and rumble followed a moment after. Great. Looked like he was going to be stuck here for a while. Huffing disappointedly to himself he crossed his arms and leaned back against the corner.


His aching neck brought him back to the world of the living with little ceremony. Aug, he'd be feeling this for a few days. He checked the window. It was drizzling lightly; lightning was still darting in the distance, but much further out than before. How long had he been asleep? Probably not that long. He stretched, earning a light chorus of pops from his back; perhaps now would be a good time to get going.

A tinkling of glass filtered briefly through the quiet rain. Sonic stopped moving. The sound did not repeat.

Getting to his feet he padded to the door of his temporary shelter, stopping before the open doorway to listen to the hallway beyond. Nothing. He chanced a peek, staying as close to the wall as possible. The hall of the second floor was dark and empty.

He knew he hadn't been hearing things, that sound had come from the lobby, he was sure of it. Had he been followed after all? No, that was impossible, there was no invention of the fat man that could keep up with him. He had however, left a very conspicuous sign of entry into the hotel. Figuring he had the advantage of surprise over his possible pursuer, he made for the stairwell's door, leaving his shoes and spoils behind.

Hardly a stride from his hiding place he heard a soft knock. Someone was trying to open the stairwell door on the floor below. There was a more forceful ‘thunk’ as they tried a second time. He slid up against the wall, peering down into the gloom of the stairwell. He couldn't see much. The slab to the lobby one floor below moved back hardly an inch before it shattered with a loud bang as whatever stood behind it smashed it against the piles of debris blocking the way. Sonic only needed to see the glint of metal. He darted back to his room.

Grabbing his shoes, Sonic weighed the options currently available. The lobby was one level below; the entry to the stairwell was three doors away; the stairwell had 20 steps; it would take 17 seconds to climb them all and an additional 8 to cross directly to where he was hiding. In under seven seconds his shoes were on and his spoils were slung over his shoulder, he still had a ten-second head start...

Turning to leave, he found that his head start was anything but. Standing in the doorway, blocking his escape, was the machine.

"HALT," said the thing in the doorway.

Sonic felt a cold shiver crawl up his neck. Red LED eyes glared at him from a figure shaped just like his own.

His mind was whirling. The machine had climbed both the stairs and gotten to the door of his shelter in significantly less time it would take any other machination he had previously encountered. This must be the robo-herder's new toy.

The machine held out a sharp, silver hand. "RETURN THE BELONGINGS OF MY MASTER."

He had no immediate escape. "Can't say I know who your master is, guy," he replied. There was the window behind him but he couldn't trust the possibility of it being able to open or not. In the time it would take to even check, the thing would easily catch him.

"MY MASTER IS MY BUILDER, PROFESSOR IVO ROBOTNIK," it answered with the grace of a scrap yard.

Keep it talking. "Is that so? 'Fraid you're barking up the wrong tree, pal, don't now the guy." The walls were likely made from drywall and plaster. He could easily punch a hole through them to get out, but he didn't have enough running room to gain the speed he would need.


Sonic snorted to himself. "Attempted murder" was a little heavy; it wasn't his fault the bald dude shot those explosive barrels and demolished his own foyer, but he wasn't about to try to argue the fine print with a machine. "You seem to know an awful lot about me, bro," he said steadily, "but I don't know you. Care to share? It's only fair."

The thing still had its hand outstretched. "FAIR?"

He tightened his grip on his small bag. "Yeah, dude, fair. It's not fair to know everything about me when I don't know anything about you. It's creepy, see?" He was stalling for as much time as he could manage. He needed to figure a plan to get out and away from this new contraption as quickly as possible. He had to assume it was built specifically to deal with him, and he wasn't prepared for such a prospect.

The mechanical copy seemed to consider this, tilting its streamlined head ever so slightly.

"C'mon guy, it's impolite to barge in on somebody without introducing yourself." His best escape was still through the door behind the machine. If he dashed quickly enough and feigned to the left, he could probably squeeze by it and get into the hall, and then the only option would be to try to outrun or somehow out-maneuver it. Considering how quickly it got to the door of his room, its speed was at least several times that of Eggman's standard minions.

It retracted its hand a little. "I AM METALLIX, VERSION 0.0."

Sonic couldn't make total sense of the thing's design. Cords of what he could only guess to be some kind of steel thread hybrid or alloy were knotted all over the chassis, mimicking the layout of muscles. Combined with the oddly skeletal shape of the head, the visual effect was disturbing. "Version 0.0, huh?" He wondered if he could get any more information out of it before things turned ugly. "What's your software?"

The machine regarded him with evident confusion. It clearly hadn't been prepared for a conversation about itself.

"Hey, pal, you know my weight, and you probably know what I ate for lunch today; it's only fair."

It was obvious the robot wasn't taking a liking the concept of "fair". Its answer had a grit of irritation to it. "SOFTWARE FREESYPHUN VERSION 1.02." Metallix re-extended its hand. "RETURN THE BELONGINGS OF MY MASTER."

Time's up. "Sorry, bro, not gonna happen!" Sonic threw himself at the empty space between the left wall and the talking pop dispenser. He slid into the hall, the pointed fingers of the robot whizzing just behind his bag. Wasting nothing, he pushed as hard as possible into a full run.

The rhythmic thunk of metal feet told him Metallix had given chase. He didn't dare look behind him.

He easily took the empty hall's first sharp turn to the right. He needed a plan. He had mere seconds to figure something out before he hit the opposite stairwell, and the chances of it being clear were not high enough to afford the risk of getting stuck and caught by the machine.

Six. Staying in such close quarters was a terrible idea. With the way it had completely destroyed even just the door in the lobby, Metallix could probably easily snap him in two.

Five. The sound of its heavy footsteps hadn't changed, it was neither gaining or losing ground behind him. Geeze, it could keep up with him!

Four. If it could move as quickly as he could, how on earth was he going to get rid of it?

Three. Another sharp turn to the right. The stairwell was ahead, partially blocked by a collapsed ceiling, creating a dead end.

Two. Were there any elevator shafts? No. Was the collapsed ceiling open? Also no.

One. Crap crap crap cra-wait! One of the hotel rooms was open, there was light filtering in from outside - a window!

Zero. Sharp turn left and jump!

Trusting his instincts generally resulted in Sonic flying through the air in one way or another. Glass and bits of the rotted window frame sailed after him in a glittering trail of debris. He hit the ground in a roll, back on his feet in less than a heartbeat, charging down the road. The explosive boom coming from the concrete just behind him let him know that his new friend had unfortunately landed safely.

Metallix wasn't about to give up. Its target had a slow start getting up from the road, and that was all it needed to close the distance and get its builder's property back. With its hydraulics singing it launched from its crater with all the efficiency of a bullet. Six strides and it was close enough. Putting out a hand it grabbed the left arm of its quarry and gave a slight pull to get them to halt and return what they had stolen. The noise that exploded out of the blue thing surprised the machine, making it let go. The thief tumbled to the ground, rolled once, and stopped face to the ground in a shivering heap.

Sonic wasn't ignorant of injury, the number of times he'd bashed, cut, or otherwise skid-burned himself in some way was astronomical. This was, however, the first time he'd had his arm yanked out of its socket by a robot. He'd heard dislocations were painful, but had never experienced it himself. It felt as though his arm was on fire and submerged in sub-zero ice at the same time. The thin coat of rain covering the pavement wasn't really helping.

Its target was on the ground. Maybe now it would give back what belonged to its master. Its audio sensors were still ringing from the sound it had made. "RETURN THE BELONGINGS OF MY MASTER," it requested. The thief didn't reply or comply, making an odd shuffling motion on the ground in no particular direction. Its software concluding that the lack of response and the steady movement in a random direction denoted a second attempt at escape, Metallix stepped forward to halt it again. Perhaps if it made its request while the thief was facing it, they would comply. It reached for the material arching out from the target's back.

"AUGK!" Writhing like a worm stuck in the sun he rolled over and kicked his feet, shoving himself away from the antagonising machine a small ways. Metallix had a fistful of his quills in its silver hand, looking at them in bewilderment. "The heck was that for?" he shouted at it.

This was proving to be rather difficult. The thief was still on the ground. It had wanted to put it onto its feet so it could request it to return what didn't belong to it more directly, but it came apart. The long, curved objects that came off of its back were curious. They were all blue except for the very bottom, which was red.

Metallix was entirely distracted by the quills, poking at them. The red colouring came away on its pointed fingers. Odd. Why was it doing that? Its blank "mind" buzzed at this discovery, its unused stores of data coming to life to answer its question.

Sonic was trying to force his arm back into its socket. He was in deep trouble now, this bucket of bolts was actually dangerous. It nearly broke his arm and now it was pulling his spines apart. He needed to get away from it or get it to go away. With a fuzzy scraping sensation in his shoulder some feeling returned to his arm. Good enough, he could see a doctor about it later.


He struggled to his feet, being careful to leave his injured arm largely alone. He turned to face his enemy. It caught him once already, the chances of him outrunning it were decidedly slim - he needed a plan. He didn't have a weapon. He doubted concrete rocks would do much against a chassis like that. He wouldn't give up what he grabbed out of Eggman's factory, either. Chances were the machine wouldn't let him go either way.


Think! Was there anything he could take advantage of?

Wait, Metallix mentioned it was a version; 0.0? It was a prototype. Prototypes were imperfect. What about the software... Freesyphun? He'd heard of it before... Tails was all excited about it a while back for some reason.


He remembered now! Freesyphun was a free-thinking software designed to replicate the phenomenon of random thought, encouraging individualised critical thinking processes in machines. Could he take advantage of this?


When the machine had finished studying what it had in its grip, it froze for a moment, staring at the ground. Then in a slow, calculated motion it took the bundle of quills in both hands and proceeded to shatter them into countless pieces. Metallix reduced the objects to splinters, letting the pieces rain to the watery road.

When it looked back up at him, something had changed. Nothing outward was any different, but there was the slightest shift in the light of the electric eyes. "Oh, boy..." [...]


Head Games [circa 2013, unfinished]

This entire operation was proving to be a detriment to his health. They had discovered the answer behind the dock's vanishing electrical equipment, and it was one he was wishing had remained buried.

He'd need a doctor. His left arm was badly broken and he was sure a few ribs had been cracked as well or worse. The pain in his chest made breathing somewhat difficult; he couldn't reach full-speed. Rounding a corner he found himself facing a dead-end of immense cargo crates. No! Blast this maze! He wouldn't be able to double-back--


Sonic spun around, clutching his injured arm. He threw a hideous scowl at his antagonist, noticing with considerable worry that they still had the lead pipe firmly in hand. With the weapon's added reach, he wouldn't able to dart around the machine to get back into the open, and knowing the bastard as well as he did, it'd go for the legs instead of the other arm.

Metallix looked pleased with itself having herded him into a corner. "YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN A LEFT TWO-HUNDRED PACES PRIOR," it said to him.

Sonic's scowl deepened. "Learning the art of taunting, I take it?" His surroundings were dismal, the sheet-metal crates reached twelve feet into the air each, stacked in sets of two high. There was perhaps thirty feet of open floor between him and the dead end, and only ten separating himself and his malicious copy.

"FROM THE BEST," replied the machine, its monotone shedding a grit of distaste. "THIS WAS EASIER THAN EXPECTED." It drew a metal nail over the pipe with an etching noise. "YOU REACT SO ERRATICALLY TO PAIN. AS IF YOUR PROCESSES--" it lunged with the pipe, aiming for the knee. Sonic leapt backwards, losing another five feet between himself and the wall of crates. "--HAVE CEASED TO FUNCTION OPTIMALLY."

His injuries weren't taking kindly to the sudden movement, the pain was making it difficult to think. Metallix was trying to get him to do something stupid. He'd trapped himself already, and he had only so much room to keep himself out of the robot's reach. It wouldn't leap for him just yet, there was too much space for him to get away; in the time it would take for it to recover he'd be either gone or hiding. With the entire warehouse filled with obstacles, the bastard wouldn't be able to find him if he had a good head start. Three seconds would be all he'd need.


"Like hell I'd tell you," he spat.

"WHO IS TO SAY I DO NOT ALREADY KNOW?" It cut an arc in the air in front of it with the pipe. "THE SMALL ONE. SUCH AN EASY TARGET."

Immediately Sonic's mind was afire with the possibilities. He had no idea where Tails or Knuckles could be, they had split up to search the docks quickly. Knuckles could have at least been able to give the robot a run for its money strength-wise, but his little bro--

The lead pipe landed squarely between his left shoulder and neck with a loud cracking noise. He staggered backwards in surprise until he lost his footing and tumbled.

"CAREFUL," cautioned the machine, holding the weapon up. "YOU SHOULD KEEP YOUR HEAD CLEAR."

He shoved himself into a standing position with his good arm. Almost his entire left side was now engulfed in agony. Chances were his collarbone was as broken as his arm. He had lost another ten feet of space, leaving only fifteen between himself and the immense crates. Metallix was playing with his emotions, the monster knew enough about him to know how he would react to the prospect of his friends being injured, and used it against him. Seemed the robot had learned a few new tricks since last he'd run into it. Luckily for him, the machine wasn't the only one here who knew how manipulation worked. Metallix had the upper hand. Unless Sonic could force the machine to take a mis-step the same way it was trying to influence him to, he was going to be reduced to a lifeless pile. He took a gamble. "Well, Metal, aren't you smart," he wheezed; "playing head-games and all of that." The lights of the robot's optical display brightened for a quarter-second. "What other tricks do you have in that cold piece of hardware crammed between your ears?"

A sneer crawled over Metallix's face. "MY NAME IS METALLIX," it corrected him. "MY MENTAL PROCESSORS ARE NOT HARDWARE. THEY ARE A MIND."

He laughed painfully. "Nuh-uh, bro. A 'mind' is what non-robots have. You've got a CPU."


"You really think that? Well, I guess a machine needs something to delude itself wi--" Sonic was against the crates in what felt like a split second. The area under his left ear was numb and his eye felt strangely fuzzy. It took a moment to register that Metallix had struck him in the temple with the pipe. The look on the mechination's face was comparable to stone, but the twitching in the fingers and a rising stink of grease told him that his gamble was working. A blow to the head had not been a part of the plan, he was sure he had a concussion with the strength the robot could pull, or worse. He felt incredibly off-kilter and his vision was dull around the edges. All he could see out of his left eye was a watery, blurred mess of grey and faint smears of colour.

"THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE," repeated the machine.

He had to make the thing falter. There was an equal chance however, that he'd be struck again with the pipe. Another blow would be the end of him in this state, he could hardly see straight as it was. "Yeah, there is a difference," he challenged. "A living mind is everything you're not." This was a vague point and he knew it, but it wasn't one that Metallix would be able to argue against.

"MY MIND IS LIVING," it insisted. "I AM NO MERE MACHINE." It flexed its empty hand. "I AM LIVING."

Something was pooling between his teeth. He spat a glob of red onto the floor between himself and the copy. "Living things bleed," he said. He couldn't really see the robot, it fluctuated between a shadow and a vague shape. Sonic found himself wondering if the crates had somehow expanded by another thirty feet.

Metallix was peering at the cords that composed the exoskeletal armour of its arms. [...]


Jun 01, 2017

IO: If a Swi demon is particularly unhealthy or suffers constipation, its gut can become host to manifestations of the Weak, who will grow within the creature and will require excision if the Damned become too large. Most are or can be flushed from the demon's system naturally and further transported to the Warren's dumps to complete development and eruption. Those that are not naturally flushed will eventually become problematic as they grow, requiring intervention for removal. As a Swi's body is quite hardy and fast-healing, most Swi simply deal with this inconvenience by themselves, performing impromptu gastro caesareans to rid themselves of their unwelcome "garbage weight". For this reason, most Swi travel with a small collection of knives, thread, and hooks for self-surgery.

Especially large Swi generally do not bother with these tactics, as their sheer size generally prevents blockages of this nature unless the volume of manifesting Weak is especially unreasonable. The reason for the Damned of the Warren manifesting in this manner is unknown and is, as of current knowledge, unique amongst Damned and Demonkind alike.

As a species, Swi are hermaphorditic, possessing a set of two primitive genitals for reproduction. Cycles are fast and regular, resulting in a cultural attitude towards sex that largely amounts to "marginally less acceptable than a hug from a stranger." Pairs will do their business in public with barely an onlooker batting an eyelash, provided the pair are not being obnoxious, interrupting work, or damaging goods or services.

Gestation of infant Swi is primarily external. Parents lay small, hard-shelled eggs that curiously resemble iron pellets. These eggs are densely packed with proteins. With the frequency of intimate encounters amongst the Swi, individuals generally lay their eggs in a bucket to be brought to a nursing location later. Nurseries are equitable to gardens, with Swi essentially "planting" their eggs in Hell's mantle as one would the seed of a crop. Nourished and warmed by Hell's layers, the eggs erupt fruit-bearing vines that contain the progeny of the demon. Each egg can boast upwards of several hundred infants. The volume of offspring and regularity of reproductive cycles of the Swi exist to combat high infant mortality, caused by predation by the Weak, Abyss Life, weather damage, and cannibalism via competition for survival. Once born by falling from their uteral tree, Swi newborns will subsist on an internal yolk for one day, growing and developing rapidly during this time until the yolk is exhausted. Once fully absorbed, the infant will have budded teeth, and will begin to prey on other developing infants or anything else similarly defenseless nearby. The speed of development in the infant will continue at a breakneck pace for two weeks, driving the young demon's body to vastly grow in size - from a mere inch to up to a full six feet - in record time.

During this rapid physical development, a Swi's skin and muscle is surprisingly supple and delicate, easily damaged in scuffles and fights for food. Healing comes rapidly, but redirected resources result in chaotic scar tissue development and lopsided growth, leading to vast stretches of dermal malformation and a wide range of physical deformities (stunting of limbs, asymmetry of muscle / fat deposits, etc). Once this explosive growth period ends, the infant will become sluggish as their metabolism tanks. This is the most vulnerable time for a Swi infant, as they will be unable to hide or truly defend themselves from even small opponents. Young Swi at this stage will instinctively attempt to leave the nursery. Adults patrolling the nurseries will ignore or otherwise make no attempts at aiding the young, as the survival and escape from the nursery is considered a rite of passage. Adult Swi demons will not lift a finger to aid a child until it has cleared the nursery's edge by several feet, upon which the infant will be approached, carefully gathered up, and taken to any one of multiple Rearing Houses, communal edifices dedicated to the care and education of Swi children.

Swi children are kept in isolation until their aggression, previously fueled by an intense requirement to feed, subsides with their plummeting metabolism and cooling development speed. Once completely over their initial state, Swi become highly receptive and social. Childcare is communal, with the concept of single-parenting being utterly foreign to the species.


May 30, 2017

IO: While largely unknown amongst cultists and demonologists in comparison to other demonic summons and manifestations, Sagog can and have been brought forth from Hell to terrorise the living. Sagog are a taxing and difficult summon. High emotional investment is required to displace them from Hell's grip, as the demon is conceived by lack of restraint and born in anger.

Summoning a Sagog requires the anguish of children. As a result, the creature is seen as a tool for revenge, utilised by a despairing parent or community against an attacker of their child or children.

May 31, 2017

IO: 10 TEMPTATIONS: Artifacts that embody, create, and enact desire.
Wheel of Fortune / Rota Fortunae: Permits alteration of one's fate [controlled by the Xeres, Greed]
Coin of Contetment / Apatheia Pecunia: Creates contentment [held by the Swi, Nowhere]
Stone Egg / Ovum Homine: Enables creation by imparting knowledge [???]
Fruit of Yggdrasil: Provides descendants [Limbo]
Tower of Fate / Turrim Futurae: Permits gazing into the future [???]
King's Glaive / Regem Digitus: Permits the smiting of one's enemies [???]
Treasurer's Key / Osseus Clavem: Provides entry to all places [???]
Queen's Goblet / Patera Cupido: Satiates all thirsts [???]
Silver Conch / Concha Argentum: Reveals the voice of God [???]
Speculo Vitae: Permits one to become a God [???]

NOWHERE: A simultaneous curse and location in Hell. To say something or someone is Nowhere is to condemn them to obscurity, or to proclaim a curse on the object or individual in question to either having disappeared or to be at risk of disappearing by way of social rejection and irrelevance, to be ignored until the subject "disappears". It should be noted that in this specific cultural and social context, to "disappear" is the equivalent of being "spirited away". The significance of being spirited away in the midst of being ignored or rejected by one's company is that the victim will not be missed, in other words an easy target for "what lives Nowhere".

Nowhere is a defacto location in Hell, being one of several "shifting" pockets that migrate within Hell's meat, believed to exist under such immense physical pressure as to be invisible - forced to occupy the electromagnetic spaces between its atoms. The most prominent occupants of Nowhere are the Swi, considered a form of boogeymen in many of Hell's cultural pockets. Swi abduct other demons, allegedly to be made into industrial grease with which to oil the machines of their city. Those who are ostracised or ignored are their prime targets. The same superstition feeds into some Demon folk possessing a fear of closed closet doors, being familiar with the Swi's method of travel via closed doorways in Hell connecting by an unknown force to similarly closed doors in the Warren, the Swi city. Such a fear fuels inordinate investment in deadlocks, door removal, and, in cases of hysteria, large-scale door-burnings in an effort to remove the presence of Swi from a neighbourhood.

The significance of "Nowhere" as a cultural and Infernal phenomenon translates to Infernal folk never using the term "nowhere" casually. When describing something as being missing or not knowing where something or someone is, Demon folk will say the someone or something is "not anywhere" or that they "don't know the where", using "where" as a noun. Alternatively "nohere" will be used. The casual use of "nowhere" by visitors to Infernal space is responded to by suspicion and ostracism.


May 10, 2017

IO: Due to their immense size and ability to retain energy, some Angels act like mobile batteries for other, smaller Angels unable to retain high amounts of energy for long-term inactivity or long-distance travelling. These larger Angels often appear like statue-encrusted edifices, covered in their smaller brethren depending on them for energy. 


May 12, 2017

IO: Scrunts are a small, aggressive species of Motherkin that arise within the New Matriarchy. Scrunts are seen as "Mosa's answer to Mogura". Much like White Courtesans, Mogura's enduring progeny, Scrunts are ravenous, cannibalistic, and, presumably, eat to reproduce. A Scrunt is largely all-mouth, armed with sharp, tearing teeth and strong jaws. Animalistic in behaviour and intelligence, Scrunts are seen as a nuisance by other Motherkin, though a nuisance that can quickly become a sizeable threat. A single Scrunt can be easily taken care of with a stomp of a foot, but any number greater than two is seen as a forewarning to a much greater problem. A wave of Scrunts can easily devour a large-class Murder Chef within moments, leaving little behind.

Scrunts are allegedly a lesser class of Cretis Motherkin, a species that appears largely alien against its forbearing sisters. A large swarm of Scrunts will be accompanied by at least one Cretis.

Which Motherkin came first, Scrunts or Cretis, is unknown. Whether or not Cretis produce Scrunts or Scrunts produce Cretis as a foundation of the species' reproduction is similarly up for debate. Cretis have been seen giving birth to Scrunts via multiple orifices in their bodies, and similarly Scrunts have been observed producing Cretis by coming together to form a conglomerate womb. Some believe that Scrunts and Cretis are unrelated and share a mutually beneficial relationship as symbionts that support each other's propagation.

Scrunts and Cretis Motherkin are only observed within the inner territories of the Iron Kitchens surrounding Mosa. Dignitaries visiting from outside of Gluttony are advised to keep to "clean" hallways, as venturing too far off of set pathways will result in encountering Scrunts or Cretis, from which the visitor will be unlikely to escape.


May 29, 2017

IO: WARREN PEOPLE / FRUIT OF THE WARREN; those who cannot manage temptation are Damned to the Warren, a miserable corner of Hell with no known set location. The people of the Warren are able to "appear" in any Level, and similarly disappear at will. Like the Xeres and the Volfen, the Warren People, believed to call themselves the Swi, are an untapped force in modern Hell.

Swi are pig-like creatures; tall, bulky, and physically strong. They manage and harvest the Weak, Damned who cannot refuse temptation. The Warren's primary trap for the Damned is the Fruit of the Warrens, the developing children of the Swi, which grow from the Warren's dirt from organic tree-like structures. The fruit is golden-orange and carries the spirit of temptation within it. The eating of the fruit gives temporary relief from the Hell's torments - quieting the Voice of Hell and muffling the pain of Damnation; but the relief of the fruit is short-lived and comes at a considerable price. Those who partake of a single fruit will be compelled to consume more to sustain the relief, as the shrugging away of Hell's torments lasts for only a moment. With each fruit consumed the Damned's body will warp and stunt against its natural anatomy, further punctuating the Damned's agony as the fruit's effects fade. Damned feasting upon the fruits will quickly bloat and become a target for the Swi demons, who patrol the nursery trees constantly.

Damned who fall prey to the fruits' temptation and are caught are thrown into pens spaced about the Swi city, left to rummage for food and squabble amongst themselves as their figures continue to inflate. Treated as livestock, Swi prod, herd, and fatten the Damned until such a point they are roped and lead away. The fate of the Weak varies, thought to depend on the number the number of fruits consumed before being caught versus the Damned's constitution. Overall, once taken from their pen, every portion of the Damned is utilised in some way, slaughtered and processed either by hand or machine. Weak Damned return to the Warren's ground by erupting from the muddy earth the same way the Fruits of the Warren bloom. Damned emerge from the muck encased in a thin sack. Damned not directly harvested by Swi from another location manifest in the Swi city in this way only. Their manifestation grounds are limited thematically, restricted to areas of extreme filth - sewage pools, dumps, and waste piles left behind by larger entities. Damned emerge as boney, dark-coloured, animal-esque figures.

The Swi city is mechanically based, built upon shifting gears and rails. Houses and complexes will shift and shuffle smoothly from arrangement to arrangement throughout the day. The city's mobile system is built to accommodate the Wos, a colossal, lumbering entity that roots up Hell's mantle to eat the layers of coalesced fat underneath.

Damned who consume inordinate amounts of the Warren's fruit have a high chance of becoming hosts to the Swi demons whose fetuses were consumed by them. The demon produced will be an abomination - an amalgated Swi, known as a Sagog, composed of multiple bodies, upwards of 20. Sagog are wild creatures, unwelcome within the Swi city with individuals closing doors and shuttering windows if not moving their entire homes to deter them from attempting to enter their abodes. Sagog are ravenous and prey only on the Weak, tearing apart pens to trample and devour the Damned inside. Sagog that become a "problem" around the pens are hunted down and pulled apart by Swi. These amalgamations grow ever larger with each Damned they consume, with some individuals growing to yards in length. These Sagog are eventually herded by the Swi into the path of the Wos to be consumed.

The troughs left behind by the Wos are littered with dead and still-living Sagog, who pick at the tattered meat of the mantle to sustain themselves for lack of prey. Weak who fall into the troughs will be hunted mercilessly by the amalgamations.

Yad, resembling emaciated felines, act as Swi house companions, and will hunt and attack Damned who enter or attempt to enter Swi houses. Yad faces are occupied by hinged jaws that split and operate as insect-like mandibles. Their pinching and gripping power permit a Yad to easily grasp and burst the head of a captured Damned.

The interior of Swi houses are a juxtaposition of the city's external filth. A swi house is quite clean, bordering on immaculate, boasting amenities comparable to terrestrial lifestyle. However, whether or not a Swi house is "lived" in is up for debate. The furniture and overall interior construction of a Swi house is heavily warped and stretched, bordering on paradoxical. A Swi house is littered with doors, each of which will either produce a wall, a closet, or a gateway to a new location impossible to contain within the house itself [leading to outside, a new location in Hell, outside of Hell, etc].

A Weak can escape the Warren in one of two ways - the vents opened by the Wos rooting into the mantle, risking being caught by Sagog or crushed by the shifting meat of the mantle and squeezed out elsewhere, or attempting to find an exit via the doors of a Swi house, risking being caught by either a Yad or a Swi.


May 08, 2017

IO: Goluch are a specialised species endemic to Greed. Goluch possess transparent skin and a series of cells capable of bioluminescence. Females are double the size of males, exemplifying highly aggressive behaviours. Females are hunters, while many males are scavengers.

Goluch reproduce by way of aerial spore-like cells, which males release into Greed's winds by way of branch-like appendages that emerge from the back, to be carried across the landscape. Females receive these spores via their own unique appendages, populated with fan-like filaments that sift the air. Goluch spores can remain viable for several years if not generations, permitting continuation of bloodlines even well after the progenitor has died.

Goluch are comparative newcomers to Jis, Greed's capital, attracted by the vast, weakened population as a source of food. While they are a communicative, intelligent people, Goluch are not "friendly" and generally look upon other demon folk as prey. Females in particular are untrustworthy, as their low regard for those around them is easily apparent. Males, conversely, are more likely to be trustworthy, as their much smaller size instills a need to make "allies" for survival. Goluch are, however, a source of "enforcing fair trade", as an unhappy female Goluch being strung along by a crusty merchant will simply eat the merchant out of impatience of being given a run around for goods. Hoping to retain their lives, many merchants will give a Goluch female an unspoken "discount" to get them to leave as quickly as possible. Other buyers, strained for coin under Ellis, will prey on these discounts, immediately jumping in on the merchant's offer the moment the Goluch leaves, keeping the new rate live until enough dead air permits the merchant to re-hike their wares under their customer's noses.

In being so large, female Goluch generally eat victims alive, by simply swallowing them. Anything 3/4 to half the size of a Goluch, male or female, will be swallowed in this way, with victims left to a neurotoxic demise or death by constriction and suffocation by the demon's internal muscles. The Goluch's jaws possess admirable spring-loaded power, thrusting forwards to expose long, curved fangs on both the top and bottom jaw, paired with venom glands carrying a potent neurotoxin. The muscle of the stomach presses against and constricts swallowed prey, suffocating and crushing it. Thanks to their semi-transparency, other demons can watch the Goluch's victims slowly die, which can be a delight for those with a vendetta.

Female Goluch carry four young at a time in transparent pockets in the skin that dangle from the abdomen. Goluch are mammalian and nurse their offspring from within the pockets via an internal teat. Once ready to be born, the infant Goluch are pushed from the pocket encased in a thin protective sac that they then tear and consume as their first meal.

Goluch flesh is transparent for lack of melanin and lack of iron in internal tissues. [It is a Goluch male that raises an orphaned Xeres as his daughter in "Adventures of Single Dad-dom"]

Goluch are extremely devout parents, but despite this, infant mortality is a rounded 30% for the species. Skreg, an aerial predator of greed's wilderness, preys on infant Goluch for their rich proteins and lack of neurotoxin development, which does not begin until their fourth year.

The species possesses six limbs; four for locomotion and two for dexterity. The Goluch is equal parts bi- and quadrupedal. Goluch fight via heavy blows from their limbs, and vicious bites. Bites can be loaded or dry of neurotoxin.

Mammon is so immense that, if he so desired, he could storm Jis and the Bronze Cathedral as a lone force and succeed. Although the Crown of Brass rightly belongs to him, he will not take this route, as it is against his character. Similarly, he knows that despite her incompetence, Ellis still has the ears of whomever gifted her the Crown against him, and still has control of Jis itself. He intends to bide his time, and permit the weight of Greed to crush her and the rabble she's gathered for support. He deems it fitting.

Mammon is also aware that there are still many who believe that Ellis' coronation was the will of the Beast, and would retaliate heavily to his uprising against her. If he is to overthrow her he must be able to show to Greed at large that he is worthy of the Crown of Brass.

By the time he knocks open Jis' gates, Ellis is a raving animal of a madwoman, utterly consumed by the Greed that bade her to steal the Crown of Brass. As he arrives at the Bronze Cathedral, she spits and curses at him, a howling shade of her former self, with the Crown already lost from her grip. In response to her ravings, Mammon simply smears her body across the Cathedral's steps with a slow, uncaring motion of his trunk.

Ellis' encroachment of madness during the tenure of her rule in Greed doesn't go entirely unnoticed. Those still kept within the Level's Court observe her deterioration, but keep their commentary and actions to themselves. Those who suggest that there may be a "problem" are "dealt with" by Ellis. Similarly, those who attempt to take advantage of her failing faculties are quickly caught, and made an example of.


Apr 18, 2017 

IO: Several species of Hell's trees are parasitic organisms that feed off of graves or areas Hell's blood flows and pools close to the mantle's surface. 

Migrating forests / Mausopine: Some areas in Hell are populated by moving / "migrating" forests, "trees" that deroot and move to more suitable locations. The Mausopine is one such species, drawn specifically to locations sporting considerable numbers of the dead. Mausopines are drawn to graveyards numbering 500 or more, or sites of mass death with unburied dead. Most Mausopines will be carriers of Sokrot Ticks, a small, opportunistic but largely benign species that latches on and burrows into the bark of the Mausopine. Sokrots are pitcher-style hunters, attracting prey through the foul stink of rotting flesh, drawing carrion feeders up from the graves targeted by the Mausopine. Prey that falls into the tick's pitfall are quickly entombed and ingested. A single Mausopine may carry several ticks, possibly numbering into the 100s depending on the size of the tree itself. As the Sokrot tick ages, the larger it becomes as well as more competitive amongst its resident tick-mates. As ticks passively compete for feeding space, the smaller and weaker of the population will begin to die off, and if not dislodged, will infect the Mausopine with bacteria caused by the Sokrot's decomposition. 

Migrating forests / Despondent Wood: A species native / exclusive to Sloth, Despondent trees are born into and expire with death instinct. From the moment they sprout from Sloth's crust, they uproot and shift towards a large, ebony aquatic body notated on Sloth's maps only as "Wish". The trees migrate with determination in a "run" captured in incredible slowness, their roots whipping the earth in glacial motion to haul themselves towards Wish's waters. It is thought that Wish's intense winds, originating from the lake's shores via an unknown source, are what force the trees to a crawl, ripping apart those unable to withstand their force. The winds also serve as the species sole perpetuation, blowing their meager seeds to the wood's very edge, where further generations emerge and undertake their forbearer's grim pilgrimage. Trees that survive the savage winds ooze themselves into and under the lake's unmoving surface. The trees eventually drown, their husks never floating to the surface. The journey of a single Despondent tree can take over 1,000 Infernal years. The consummation of the seeds of these trees is believed to inspire a death wish in those foolish enough to partake in them. 


Apr 19, 2017 

IO: Beelzebub rules over Dis in the place of the Ten Faced Beast. He is constantly accompanied by a cohort of biting flies and Imps, produced by himself, and incestuously propagated amongst themselves. As a political figure, Beelzebub is keenly aware of the people's pining for the return of the Beast. 


April 25, 2017 

IO: Infliction is kept in The Ward during her 80-year penance. The Ward is the core of the Grand Bazaar in Envy, a series of cubicles in which the Damned navigate the isolation of their minds and experience harms inflicted by them upon others by proxy of their creations or practices. While in the Ward, Infliction is comatose, trapped inside her mindscape fleeing from an aberration of herself as her father while experiencing the devastation of her own weapons and practices under the direction of Urd, her father, and herself. Once she has paid duty to the Voice of Hell, she is released by Morziel and left to wander Hell as she sees fit. 

Infliction is later retrieved by Pigface and brought back to Lust. While the Dement'ed War is over, conflict still rages between Hell and the Rogues, and she is conscripted to produce weapons and systems to defend Hell's people against ever-increasing attempts at violent condemnation by their enemies. [These weapons are seen in Hell 2525] 

Multiple attempts at assassination are levied against Infliction during her remaining years in Hell, making her, in essence, a prisoner of her own home until her death. 

While operating as a defector supplying Hell with a means to combat her own weapons, Infliction undertakes personal purification by tearing out her characteristic piercings. By the time she faces penance in the Ward, her umbilicus and piercings of station as an Elite have been removed. Once the War is over, Pigface begins visiting Infliction in the Ward regularly, though he has no means to speak with or otherwise interact with her. 

Infliction's defection begins early in her 31st / 32nd year, feeding information to Pigface, whom she knows carries a similar hate for Zyphenstrygen as her own. She orchestrates an undermining of his effectiveness as an Elite as a form of catharsis or vicariously experience revenge of his abuses and lack of parental love and affection through an old rival. Her surreptitious betrayals become fully realised after the brutal murder of Neurosis, wherein Infliction aims unapologetically to destroy her father or best him in body count in a manner he could never hope to match, permanently placing herself above him. 

Infliction strikes a deal with Pigface, she will aid Hell's forces in excising Zyphenstrygen, providing counter measures to her own weapons, and exposing the weaknesses of the Pistonne in exchange for asylum in Hell and proper burial for Neurosis (the latter of which is situational, as she hauls her sister's body to the Fronts as a display of grief and faithfulness to her offer of patricide for Hell's benefit).


May 05, 2017 

IO: Greater Imps populate Dis' many districts, commonly employed as middle men and banker's assistants. Generally, wherever an Imp is employed, customer difficulties are likely to arise. Greater Imps are not known for empathy, conceptualising, or flexibility, a deficiency related to an entrenched internal clock and a brain wired for consistencies. Greater Imps learn very quickly and possess an impeccable memory, topped with acute spatial awareness. 

The Greater Imp's memory is of particular use to policy makers and librarians. An Imp of applicable Greatness can commit to memory several long-form documents which they will be able to recall and recite with pinpoint accuracy. This is especially useful in the courts where policy argument and sleight of hand can undermine social stabilities integral to a population spanning multiple light years in distance and inconceivable in population count. The use of Greater Imps in court arguments for the accurate portrayal of policies and laws is symptomatic of a convoluted system that has not properly evolved with Hell's shifting landscape, with laws and decrees being constantly amended as opposed to rewritten to better serve the Levels and their peoples. [?] 

The greatest support system for Hell's "old ways" is the Greater Imp Queen, Segis, a colossal, aged creature housed in one of Dis' greatest chapels of law. The Greater Imp Queen has locked within her memory all foundational and secondary policies and laws enacted during the time of the Ten Faced Beast, boasting a mental collection of over 10,000 documents. Segis' memory and the higher courts' reliance on it is often maligned by the common populace as perhaps the greatest roadblock social evolution that Hell's ruling class possesses. Segis' retention is often seen as a violation of the Beast's ideals for Hell's growth. 

Segis herself, while an invaluable library of information, is physically and mentally invalid, a state forced on her by the higher courts in a bid to maintain Hell's structure. Kept alive by instrusive means, Segis is thought to have "died" generations ago, but her mind has been sustained and preserved in her vegetative body as a means to similarly sustain and preserve the court. Segis is no longer aware of herself or her surroundings. When spoken to, she will not respond unless the query asks for a specific policy or law, to which she will respond by reciting the document monotonously until either finished, or directed to cease. As she speaks, her multiple eyes, most of which are barely functional if at all, will briefly emit a coloured light, a byproduct of her mind sifting through scores of information. 

Despite her condition, Segis is heavy with offspring, a successor that has been held in-utero for nearly as long as Segis has been a member (or rather a captive) of the court. Prevention of delivery is thought to be what primarily keeps Segis alive in her current state. Conversely, it is also believed that Segis herself still being alive is what is preventing her successor from being born. With no true answer for either speculation, means of preventing the offspring from being delivered are kept enacted to preserve the Greater Imp Queen from expiration. 

Segis is a target for assassination. Many have attempted to break into her chamber, or at least attempt to discover which edifice of law contains her, but to little success. Those caught are heavily prosecuted and generally not seen again. 

The birth of the new Greater Imp Queen is believed to be a herald of Hell's new age proper - a fulfillment of one of the Ten Faced Beast's many visions of the future of which it would not be able to take part in. The new Greater Imp Queen, mind blank of documents and law, would usher in a new age of reform for the people of Hell as it expanded with its shifting discs and heaving mantles. 

The Greater Imp Queen should not be confused with the Imp Queen, a lesser score of creatures as miserable as the lesser Imp cousins they spawn from and further spawn into existence.


Dec 20, 2016

HELL 2525: Both Matilda and Stirba are Angel-killers, having a personal vendetta against the Rogues. Stirba lost her arms to the Rogues (and later the majority of her eyesight?), and Matilda lost her legs.

Matilda is a former (though sometimes still practicing) prostitute turned mercenary. A Rogue bought her services while under disguise, and attempted to murder her while atop a lit roof in one of Dis' dirtier districts.

Dec 21, 2016

HELL 2525: The myth of Ceredial stealing Lovacoan eyes and its pursuit by Soghor has been proven to be true. The body of Ceredial has been cut into pieces by Soghor, and those that have been recovered are held in reverence-like regard by the Rogues as a symbol of the abuse and fear levied against Hell's people that they wish to perpetuate. The rebel Angel Gabriel is held in especially high regard for his role in attempting to sway humankind away from free will to deny Hell equal purchase on the species' souls. He failed and was captured by Urz under the guise of the Snake in the Garden of Eden. The liberation of Gabriel from the prisons of Pride is a momentous goal for the militant sect.

The majority of Rogues enact their prejudice via mutilation and murder - the sundering of imperfect bodies as a statement of cleanliness over stains, that ugliness serves no purpose in the face of purity except to be expunged. Hell's people are regarded as lesser and therefor "worthless" to Rogues for their association to filth and sin. Whether or not a Rogue acts to specifically sow agony and terror amongst its victims depends entirely on its personality and reasons for joining the faction. For many, it is an impartial affair; pain is a byproduct of inefficient extermination, which is to be expected with hardy prey or inexperienced executioners. For a small number, it is an undesired result in a misunderstood act of pity or "liberation" from an imperfect existence. For others, agony and mutilation is a desired outcome, most commonly seen in those brought into the violent fold by way of personal vendetta or indoctrination of the proclaimed worthlessness of Heaven's counterpart. The use of violence in removing opponents stems from the stereotype that "violence is the only language Demons understand".


Apr 10, 2017

IO: After the rise of the New Matriarchy, Guttony retains its title as one of the most dangerous locations for an official or emigrant to enter, for visitors have a noted chance of not returning. The previous, known threats of Gluttony have been compounded since the death of Yomesh, by way of what destroyed Nis as a whole prior to the Level's closure to all outside entities and forces - Mardenta.

Mardenta and her viral children are what levels Nis and extinguished all that lived within it that were not of Motherkin heritage. This selective extinction was permitted only by innate immunity already developed by the modern strains of Chefs and Nigrim prior to the Epicurean War, which was a gift not shared by Yomesh's settlers. Mardenta's strain still thrives in Gluttony after the establishment of the New Matriarchy, having now spread over vast portions of the Level's wastelands. Mardenta's cowl thrives on the mantle and blood of Gluttony, tainting the Level's waters and almost anything that lives upon it. The rebuilt city of Gluttony enjoys an immunity allowed only by its population of modern Motherkin, on which Mardenta's children cannot take root. The same cannot be said for foreign visitors, who now face a danger very similar to parasitic neonatal Shape-Shifters lurking within the oasis of Pride.

Biohazard Motherkin, the children of Mardenta, enter the bodies of potential hosts as would an infection and erupt from the host some time later as fully formed warriors. Mardenta's spores and RNA strands pollute the air, water, and meat of Gluttony without apology.

With the resurgence of Mardenta, nearly pushed to extinction by her immune sisters, but accidentally "saved" by the ignorance of Yomesh, the fundamental system of resource management and Punishment changes. Damned trundling across Gluttony are swept up by Mardenta's children, if not absorbed by the Matriarch herself, who are further hunted down by the Motherkin of Nis, cut open, and the Damned dredged out. Punishers gather the Damned by way of cutting reams of Mardenta's carpet from the mantle and shooting down her floating progeny, squeezing and tearing from them the half-digested figures of the Damned. The flesh of Mardenta, her children, and the Damned are the cuisine of the New Matriarchy; delectable to the Motherkin, but dangerous to emmisaries and visitors. Improperly cured meat culled from Mardenta and her progeny can be an active vector for spores, which can lead to infection.

The New Matriarchy is ruled by the newly ascended Matriarch, Mosa. A being composed of two bodies, Mosa is the successor to Majorga, being bound together as a single entity via "an open mind". The upper skullcap and brains of Mosa's two bodies are missing, the two binding together by touching and entwining their exposed craniums, with one body rising to the ceiling, while the other rests on the floor. Mosa's uteri are inverted, creating a winding series of "feotal trees" that bear transluscent sacs.

**Mosa is the fused form of multiple (not just two) entities / offspring born from Majorga? Mardenta? Both? Necrofeotal remains of Mogura? Fused faces would point in multiple directions, still with top / bottom halves.

Apr 11, 2017

IO: Heaven is sterile, its people grown from minerals. Angels function by way of absorbing energy from almost any external source. Depending on the species, the type of wavelengths compatible can vary.

Most Angels are silicon-based [?]

For so long as there is energy to be absorbed, an Angel can survive or otherwise be active, though by how much is dependent on the strength of the energy source.

ORACLES / AURACLES are Angels that gain considerable energy from and further emit mechanical waves. The most common of these are the Ouroboros, ring-shaped abstract Angels.

PRISMS are Angels that gain considerable energy from the further emit electromagnetic radiation. The most common of these are the Pyramids and Hydrons, abstract Angels that develop in polyhedron formations.

Depending on its molecular construction and formation, Angels can theoretically be "indestructable" by conventional means, requiring extreme measures to destroy or otherwise defeat. Extreme kinetic force, rapid temperature fluctuation, and "overloading" are considered the most "effective" means to destroy an Angel.

All Angels possess a heat tolerance range, and the exceeding of either end of the spectrum will result in freezing or melting of the external structure, leading to structural and systematic failure of the entity's external and internal components. Depending on the species, the tolerance of an Angel's internal structures can differ from that of its external parts, which can result in "cooking / boiling / melting / freezing from within", or the exposure of the intact internal systems as the external layers shatter, peel, or evaporate away.

While many species can be accurately described physiologically as "machines", others manage to ape the appearance or "fluidity" of organics. These particular Angels are still composed entirely of minerals, but manipulate their outer layers as a moldable clay purely by way of maintaining extreme internal temperatures that near the external layer's melting point, making the "skin" pliable. It is for this reason that upon death, many Angels "turn to glass". These same species can also enter a protective or hibernative state in which the outer body "freezes" to preserve the interior during times of low wavelength absorption. This state can be maintained for extended periods of time, but the creature will eventually die of deprivation.

The cracking of the external shell is often enough to destroy some species of Angel, as the internal materials can oxidise in catastrophic ways, resulting in exposed inner layers turning to sand or immediately combusting.

For some other select species, envelopment in total darkness will destroy them.

The blood of most Angels is clear, with some sporting chemical blue, yellow, or orange. Red is uncommon. Some Angels will overall possess no "colour", instead possessing a general staggered transluscency / opaqueness to their bodies from layering of internal and external structures.


Apr 05, 2017

IO: Motherkin history and cultural heritage is oral. There is no known written component of Mothertongue, the linguistic umbrella of the Motherkin language. The language and its dialects are not given extensive study until the second fall of Gluttony, Yomesh's death, and the reopening of Gluttony's borders to greater Hell. By this time, many unique dialects have been lost.

In general, Mothertongue is not spoken by anyone outside of Motherkin heritage due to the prevalence of Motherkin being generally fluent in Common or Low Infernal. As Motherkin history is oral, with no written records kept until after Yomesh's death, historical distortion and erasure of opposing or otherwise conflicting opinions and retellings through accidental or deliberate "History by Committee" is common. This is not resolved as a records-keeping blight until the rise of the Golgotha in the New Matriarchy and a written component to Mothertongue is developed. Written records claiming to be of Mothertongue prior to this change are merely phonetic transcriptions dictated by exterior parties.

Mothertongue is known best for its library of pronouns, cataloguing at 50+. Pronouns in Mothertongue describe genital formation / configuration, to aid individuals in discerning mechanically compatible partners. Pronouns in Mothertongue have no relation to gender, a concept that is completely foreign to Motherkin at large and possesses no equivalent in their social structure. All pronouns roughly translate to "she", a contraction / derivative of "mother", of which there are multiple words assigned, each with specific nuance in weight, concept, and application. An individual's pronoun is generally incorporated into their name in the form of a "universal" series of prefixes and suffixes built from the base pronoun. "Mo-", "Ma-", "Mu-", and "-'a", "-ae", "-ie", and "-a" are the most common. Removed from the name, these prefixes and suffixes create their pronoun, eg: "moa", "mo'a", "moae", "moie". The sole exception to this rule is "Ma'a"; the prefix "Ma-" and suffix "-'a" are never paired together in a name as a pronoun denominator. "Ma'a" as a word serves as a name and pronoun of only one entity, the Third Calamity, Herald of Erasure, and may only be used in reference to her. Using it in any other context or intent is to invite suspicion, derision, ostracising, and potential violence. Ma'a as a figure and concept is not one of reverence but of calculated respect and caution, and the inobservance of this is met with zero tolerance regardless of intent or circumstance.

The Motherkin linguistic system of naming and pronouns can result in issues in regards to the names and personal identities of non-Motherkin individuals. Names that manage to fall under the guidelines of Motherkin conventions by coincidence can give a Motherkin the impression that an individual outside of their species follows their linguistic, social, and physiological systems, which can lead to considerable misunderstanding. For this reason, visitors to Gluttony after the rise of the New Matriarchy are given temporary "visitation" names, titles, or pronouns to help prevent such ocurrances. These temporary names are given as a courtesy only, to inspire at minimum a surface-level respect to visitors to the throne. Outside of courtesy, Motherkin will use slang to refer to visitors of other species. In particular, the name and pronoun "voa" will often be used, generally accepted to mean "incompatible", or "vha" / "vah", the corrupted / derogatory equivalent, meaning "invalid". The two are phonetically very similar to non-Mothertongue speakers, with the latter being largely unknown outside of ethnic pockets, making it easy for spiteful individuals to demean unfamiliar company.

Mothertongue is very rarely pursued by non-Motherkin, as the language is considered prohibitively difficult to learn for its limited application. Fluent speakers and translators, however, fetch a princely sum, as poly-linguists able to speak or at least reliably interpret the language for non-speakers are invaluable for higher courts looking to do business with or in Gluttony. The xenophobia present in Gluttony lends to a considerable bias and favour to interpreters of Motherkin blood, as other species that have learned Mothertongue will often be scrutinised or otherwise judged harshly on their fluency, or simply "toyed with" via slang and phonetically-related words to create misunderstandings and mistakes.


Mar 27, 2017

VERONA: Cikte is the killer of Urd. He enters Dement'tia through the Gates of Damnation, built by Y'vamagol. The Gates of Damnation are hidden in the barrens of the Y'nam desert province [?], and in order to locate it, he must use the gift of Sight bestowed to him by Y'vamagol, which he initially dismisses. Cikte makes a fetid offering to a demon to gain guidance, who simply tells him what he already knows but refuses to acknowledge. In a putrid hole under the crust of the desert he finds the Gates, guarded by Cerdisberohnus, the First Murderer, waiting for him. The beast informs him that only that who created it can strike it down. However, in being imbued by the power of Y'vamagol, who created and punished Cerdisberohnus, Cikte slays it, setting the five captive souls free.

He'd had enough. The Brothers had "blessed" him with such clear travelling weather, he felt as though he would expire. The skies were naked, there were no wisps of cloud, and the day's shadows were short and grey. He had no cover or hope of reprieve on the shallow rise. Cikte was sure he would cook from within by the time the day was done, giving the Barrens another corpse to chew on. His staff clicked against the yellow rock floor as he ascended. This wasn't the first fool-hardy choice he had made, and with luck it wouldn't be his last.

Everything was non-descript. The rock shelves were low and layered, devoid of anything living. The Barrens were aptly named, he'd not seen even a weed since he'd reached it. The elder shamans claimed that the area had once been lush with water and more life than the entirety of the deserts combined, until the First Murderer had been sentenced there by Y'vamagol. Miles of living plain reduced to naked rock. Cikte found it hard to believe that this place could have ever been inhabitable, looking at it now. The itch returned momentarily. The Murderer was here, somewhere, in a hovel or cave amongst these bare stones, and he would find it. He would need help, however. The Barrens ate everything that dared to cross them; it was more likely that he would stumble upon the gates of Kramacka than to find the Murderer's hole. He reached the shallow summit of the shelves. Flat earth extended for infinity in front of him. Small, stray stones were all that served as landmarks.

Despite the light of the brothers, the sky felt darker. There was the slightest of chills. He was in evil territory now, Y'nchul had no eyes here. Cikte supposed, then, that he would not be judged. He retrieved the fetid drawstring bag from under his robes. The heat of the suns had aggravated whatever laid within, and the stink was anything but holy. He remembered the look on the shaman's face when he had passed him the tiny bag. Never had he seen the elder quail as he did with the insignificant pouch pinched between his fingers. It made him curious as to what could possibly be kept inside, but he dared not to look for himself. He didn't need to add another curse to the number already resting on his shoulders. The bag and whatever its contents were meant to give him a means of "advice" to find the Murderer. With the foul-smelling thing hanging from his hand, he questioned for a moment if he wanted to know what that advice could be, who would give it in trade, and if it would be enough. Concluded that had very little else to lose at this point, he tossed the pouch to land two body-lengths in front of him. The tiny item seemed to deflate.

An awful wind carrying the tang of rot washed over him, making his eye water and his skin sting. Cikte threw up his arms on impulse, nearly dropping his staff. The unnatural breath had to be a summoning - he could not let himself be caught vulnerable or off-guard. Unwilling to let the opportunity of gaining access to the Murderer's lair pass if the foul pouch was responsible for the wind, he forced his eye open.

His offering, it seemed, had been accepted. Standing where the bag had landed was a dark being. It was Y'nam in shape, but it was warped and wrong. Hideous black hair fell over equally dark shoulders, a tail suited for lizards hanging behind it. Two faces glared out at him, one too long, too pointed, the features too sharp; the other blunt, too short, and terribly pinched and twisted. This was not a spirit he recognised. Standing unfettered in the wind it pulled the drawstrings of the pouch open, reaching in with long, curved nails. A tiny body, stained yellow with age and decay, was removed to flutter grossly in the moving air. Cikte made a mental note to ask his peer just what impulse drove him to harvest an unborn child, if he managed to come across him again in this life. The thing in front of him lifted the tiny foetus to its jaws, partaking the body as if it were a delicacy. He was disgusted, but he didn't dare advert his gaze lest the creature vanish, robbing him of his chance to find the Murderer, or worse, turn on him. With a smile fit only for the most depraved, his summoned company turned its attention to him. Yellow eyes burned into his. He wondered briefly if he was in the presence of Y'vamagol, but he could see no antlers, and no scripts he had ever read described the brother of Y'nchul to be as disgusting as this.

The horizon was black behind his unsavoury company. Its figure shifted and bled in the wind as if it were made from smoke. "A kind offer. Who are you that carries such delectables?" it asked with oily amicability.

"My name is not yours to know," he bit, earning a sneer. "I am looking for the First Murderer."

It made a noise that he could only guess to be laughter. "You ask me what you already know? A waste of time."

"I wouldn't be consorting with such entities if I did."

"Blinded by denial?"

He could feel the blood rushing to his head. "Where is the hole of the Murderer?" he demanded.

The shade merely smiled. It lifted an arm to tap a long nail against the flesh beside its left-most eye. "There is no shame for those who use evil against evil's own house."

Its advice given, the creature's body melted into the air as if made from ink. The wind vanished, and the sky brightened. The small drawstring bag laid on the ground as if untouched.

He had made a terrible offering to dark spirits and Cikte had received his answer, but it was not one he wanted. He held back a swear. The indignant stubbornness in him demanded he refuse the being's suggestion and simply march across the lifeless Barrens to find the First Murderer; but he knew that he wouldn't last a second day in such an environ, searching blindly for something he could only assume he would know when he saw it, if at all, hidden somewhere across several miles of uncharted land.

There is no shame for those who use evil against evil's own house.

The creature was right, denial was, and always had been, standing in his way.

He brushed his hair away from his left eye, gummed closed from lack of use. The red crust didn't come away easily; opening the eye was as painful as it had ever been. Free to gaze as it would, his left eye showed him what few others could see, tinting the world in scarlet. He expected the Barrens to be crawling with the lost, but it was empty. This unsettled him, never had he seen any place so devoid of not only life, but un-life as well. Truly, no being was welcome here. The Sight revealed a turbulent sky, dotted with flecks of ethereal ash. Dust and sand was peeling from the earth as if caught in a fierce wind, but there was none to be felt.

A black, flickering blot two body-lengths ahead of him caught his attention. The pouch. He was loathe to retrieve the thing, now knowledgeable of what had been inside, but leaving it would be unwise, lest it call any more unsavoury creatures to it. Taking a few strides, he gingerly reached for it. The pouch liquefied into a cloud of black, swirling smoke. Mulling over whether this was an omen, he drew his hand back and peered across the flat horizon.


An unmarked grave. Cikte refrained from thanking "good fortune" for his find. Good luck had no hand in any of this.

Exposed by the Sight, the soil of the earthly divot rose and fell in a steady, shallow rhythm. Kneeling, he reached out a hand. The dirt rose to greet it like a questioning beast, hovering below his palm before sinking back into place, its rhythm silenced.

Cikte considered for a moment the potential consequences of the actions he was about to take. Where he was about to go. What he was about to deal with. The Murderer would be waiting below, a creature that likely already knew he was coming, and who he was. Whispers abound at the temples about the First Murderer, a creature that damned the Y'nam to the touch of bloodlust and obsession. Its name and face had been long forgotten, but not its crime. What would he see when he looked upon it? Himself?

Scowling, he dug into the shallow grave with his outstretched hand. The soil and sand came away easily under violent scrapes, revealing layer by layer deep, cold stone. Handful after handful, a flat slab of grey peered up at him through the dirt. For a brief moment, panic seized the Seer. Had he fallen for a decoy? He felt and pushed at the rock.


The air in the hole was thick, wet, and unpleasant. An undercurrent of decay encouraged a sneer. He was no longer on Veronan soil. Punctuating his realisation, the stones he had used to prop open the heavy slabs failed, allowing the scales of rock to fall back into place above him. The light of the Brothers vanished instantly, surrounding Cikte in darkness.

He waited for the racket of the tumbling stones to subside and his eyes to adjust. The former obliged him, but the latter failed to materialise. Neither his right nor left eye could provide him with the slightest of definitions in the void, leaving him truly blind. This was not a circumstance with which he could draw experience. He briefly considered retreating back to the ceiling in hopes of procuring a source of light, but with no means to gauge the treacherous climb, much less any guarantee that he'd be able to heft the slabs to free himself and further find such a tool in the Barrens, the notion quickly became a lost cause.


Four, five?, voices range out at once. "What imbecile crawls in my cave?" A gurgle rose as three sets of eyes rested on him. "Oh. You."

"I take it you know who I am," Cikte stated carefully.

The Murderer scoffed. "Ha, no. I don't care who you are. But I can see what you are. Here for miserable company?"

"No. I'm here," he gestured with his sword, "to walk through that Gate."

"No one enters this Gate - it's been sealed for over 10,000 years

[[CONCEPT: Caada, the first head of Cerdisberohnus, is fought in total darkness. The player has been introduced to the mechanic of affected "echolocation" via the use of a temporarily assigned [?] action button since entry into the Hole. Striking the sword-staff against the ground or swiping the air produces a visual wave to describe the area; striking the ground produces a stronger wave and can be performed while running. Swiping the air produces a wave as a formality to lessen player frustration. Caada can be tracked in this way, though the glow of the eyes (emitting no light) can also be used as a means to keep basic tabs on the head while the player moves. Attacking the neck is the only means of fighting Caada, but striking the face, putting out the eyes, is what will make it retreat. Assaulting the neck will encourage Caada to bite the player with ample audio telegraphing, and a missed bite will result in a hard face-plant. Striking at either eye will destroy it, and destroying both will end the encounter. Caada's retreat will open the path to Cerdisberohnus. This arena will be lit by the left eye [?]. Defeating Cerdisberohnus requires the removal of the three visible heads at the neck, prompting the reveal of the fourth, and the exorcism of the Murderer. Attacking the faces of each head is ineffective, receiving only 1/8ths normal damage. Heads will regenerate once severed [?], returning at 1/4 health until all three heads are removed at once. In order to attack and sever each neck, each of the three heads must be encouraged to attack / bite at the player, which they accomplish by moving about the arena. The player can deal no damage to the body of Cerdisberohnus until all three heads are removed, but perching between the three heads by dropping from the arena's backmost ledge can provide easy access to all necks, provided the backwards-facing second head does not bite the player in the process, and is not shaken off. Head regeneration is introduced via Caada regenerating its eyes and the use of audio / visual cues.]]


Mar 21, 2017

IO: Damned may inhabit their own "cities" away from Hell's capitals. These settlements for the Damned are oft described as illusory pockets or personal Hells. Here, Damned can lead any number of existences, some even mimicking the lives they had while still alive, unaware that they are dead. These sites of personal Hells need only one Damned to maintain themselves, thriving off of the strength of the Damned's delusion to give shape and population. The Damned will thrive there in a constant cycle of reincarnation and groundhog-day phenomenon until they free themselves from the illusion that they have crafted.


Mar 15, 2017

IO: Cursing a person or place with Motherkin possession is, by and large, a guaranteed method of committing serial murder by association. Those that come into contact with the afflicted target are unlikely to "escape", whether from the walls of the stricken abode, or from the grasp of the possessed. These possessions are amongst the fastest-working out of all of Hell, and similarly are quick to dissipate. As a result, Motherkin possession is often mistaken for sudden "bursts of insanity" or the execution of premeditated brutal crime.

The invoking of a Motherkin is amongst the most simple to accomplish of all summons, accounting for both the prevalence of the demon's work, and the familiarity of its legendarily vengeful attitude within grimmoires penned outside of Hell. The methods of summoning vary, but all contain the common deed of cannibalism. The act of eating a fellow member of one's own species is considered a means to "open oneself to evil" by the desecration of remains. Invokers can place a victim under spiritual possession of a Motherkin by having them take part in cannibalistic acts. Surreptitiously feeding the target such foods is the most common approach, but also the most prone to failure as the amount consumed must be equal to the target's weight, taken in at a single location, and be regular if not all at once. The "regularity" required is a detail under debate. The demon will begin to form a hold upon the victim approximately 3/4 into the required amount of feeding, and will impress increasing influence as intake continues. The slow creeping of Motherkin spiritual influence, paired with the obfuscated nature of the delivery of tainted food, often permits an "easy" possession with little resistance on behalf of the victim. As the demon's hold on the target increases, the victim's personality and mannerisms will shift, becoming increasingly aggressive. A fixation on food, in particular meat and the conversion to a largely meat-exclusive diet, will become quickly apparent. The victim will begin to pine for an "especially" succulent meat, which they will associate with the tainted food being served to them to encourage possession, regularly returning for the dish. Other foods will begin to taste bland or otherwise "inferior".

A person under possession of a Motherkin will come to the realisation that the flesh of their people is the source of their culinary desires. It is at this point that the original spirit of the victim, if not already completely smothered by the demon, may struggle for dominance. If the victim is weak-willed, the influence of the Motherkin will remain unchanged. If unchecked, the possessed will proceed to consider and target those around them as prey. Those afflicted will attempt to hunt, corner, murder, and prepare as food anyone within their reach. The dishes created will be fed to those around them, and these guests in turn will be made into further meals. The possession lasts until the demon is exorcised, or until all targeted prey within a set location, whether denoted by the location of the initial possessing or by other means, has been killed.

Cursing a victim with the spirit of a Motherkin often proceeds to a physical manifestation of the demon, whether a physical manifestation is desired or not. Manifestation of a Motherkin demon is a messy affair that always results in the death of the afflicted. The body of the victim may undergo any of a set of metamorphosis or spectacular aberrations before rupturing or otherwise stretching and peeling to reveal the demon. The manifesting of a Motherkin in this fashion is the result of a botched possession summon, and cannot be rectified. Targets hit with a botched summon will experience a sudden and irresistible desire to eat, and will consume well beyond their basic physiological ability to digest or contain, with the body expanding or lengthening beyond the grip of the skin, leading to eventual bodily rupture. Impossible lengths of tract will worm out from the cavity until the demon herself emmerges. In some cases, a second or third Motherkin may follow after her. Unless an especially skilled and prepared exorcist is present, the demon will remain manifested for up to an hour before returning to Hell of her own accord. If the location of the manifestation is closed off and no incentive to leave is provided to the demon, whether through curiosity or tracking of victims, she will remain in a single location for the duration of the manifestation.

Cursing a location with the influence of a Motherkin may result in a similar instance of spontaneous manifestation. Those caught within the afflicted building will consume without restraint, potentially turning on each other or those deigned to serve food, until finally giving way to serving as points of manifestation. Under normal cursing circumstances, a home cursed with a Motherkin will result in one of two outcomes; a building that physically devours its occupants, or the production of unstable gateways that permit the accidental melding of a Motherkin kitchen with the target location. Homes or rooms that devour occupants under the direction of a Motherkin curse act in a way similar to that of a house afflicted with creeping Caro Domus, with victims dying violently and suddenly. Unlike Caro Domus, a Motherkin affliction does not create bleeding walls or growth of organs within the building, and bodies consumed by the home do not slowly disappear via digestion. Instead, bodies become crammed or "stored" throughout the immediate room they had perished; shoved into cupboards, drainpipes, and spaces between tiles. In instances that a curse permits unstable gateways, entire rooms may shift suddenly to create new corridors from which a Motherkin may emerge, and attack the occupants. The unstable nature of these gateways permit the melding effect for only one room at a time, permitting inhabitants to escape both the demon and the portal if they leave the affected room. Turning back after escape will show the portal and the demon having vanished. Portal manifestation may not result in the demon emerging, but can permit victims to wander into the demon's kitchen, and be lost. Should an occupant step through the gateway into Hell, they will become stranded if they leave the Hell-side room the portal has manifested in. Some gateway manifestations will permit more than one portal to open, allowing as many demons to appear. Should multiple Motherkin enter the same room, there is a high likelihood that the demons will focus on each other rather than the victims caught between. This location-bound curse will last between two and three hours.

Exorcism of a Motherkin is a difficult affair. Due to the short span of time that a Motherkin affliction will last upon a physical location, the touted ideal course of action is to simply evacuate and "let it play itself out". Exorcism upon a person possessed by a Motherkin is a slew of suggestions with no true solutions. With the constant probability that the possessed will simply become a site of manifestation, many exorcists will opt to simply end the possessed's life. If able to capture the possessed, fasting the victim is considered the most effective method in expelling the demon, but exorcists must be prepared for considerable resistance and retaliation. Depending on the tenacity and umbrage of the demon, up to a week may be needed to cleanse the possession. During this time, if not kept under surveillance, the possessed may attempt to eat parts of their own body to satiate their hunger, or the demon will attempt to escape the victim's body. Roiling of the skin is common, and especially violent movement from the demon can result in organ displacement and damage to the skeleton. If the possessed is bound, attempts at striking priests and exorcists with projectile vomit and bile will be regular until the possession ends. If the victim was especially religious, the reading of scripture of their preferred faith can expedite the process of expulsion.

Methods of sending a manifested Motherkin back to Hell are limited, with the most effective method listed as simply allowing the demon to send herself back by encouraging "boredom". Evacuating an area and remaining quiet and hidden will encourage the demon to leave. Fighting a Motherkin is not recommended, as the demon is physiologically hardy and the commotion of combat can potentially attract greater numbers to follow after her from the manifestation site, prolonging and worsening the manifestation.

Motherkin as a rule do not barter. They take. The invocation of Motherkin is done with intent to destroy and dismantle rather than to deal. Those who summon these demons with intent to trade for Hell's goods will find themselves simultaneously disappointed and in dire threat of being reduced to feed. The most an invoker will receive from a Motherkin is their own life whilst everything or everyone else around them is taken away. Summoning enthusiasts are recommended against summoning or invoking the Motherkin more than once, as despite their immense population, the probability of summoning the same demon twice is exceptionally high. Motherkin brought from Hell as an affliction more than once are highly likely to recognise their invoker, and if they had spared their life prior, they are unlikely to do so a second time and will, with intent to destroy, pursue their summoner once manifested.

Escaping an angry Motherkin is a Herculean task, as the demons are tenacious and unforgiving. Even if an invoker is able to send the creature back to Hell and free themselves, the umbrage of a Motherkin is infinite, and she will hound the summoner from within Hell until either one or the other dies. The victim will experience regular night-terrors, and should they attempt any invocation, regardless of target, the demon will attempt to interrupt or "hijack" the audience to break through to exact revenge. Incantations as small as asking a lesser demon for minor blessings can serve as a means for the Motherkin to reach their former summoner.

The most effective means of preventing the summoning of the same Motherkin is to tap into a different point in Hell's time, essentially summoning from the "past" or "future". However, should one do this, the invoker has a chance of summoning a Golgotha Motherkin, who can neither be repelled or bartered with. Golgotha will ignore all incantations and target the invoker and their present co-summoners with intent to drag them into Hell. If a Golgotha is summoned, she has a high chance of being accompanied by a train of lesser Motherkin who will fan out to search for all conspirators of the invocation for capture. If the location is an open one, innocents may be taken to Hell as well if they are caught as witnesses.

Should a priest avoid summoning a Golgotha in their bid to wrangle a "future" Motherkin to perform their desired task, they may still attract the attention of the Golgotha by way of the demon manifested after her return to Hell. The sore temper of the Motherkin extends throughout their history, past and future, and those of a future Hell who become the target for incantation to do dirty work are likely to complain to their greater counterparts, who may take action against the invoker in question on their behalf.

[[CONCEPT: stealth / escape scenario, duration: approx. 3 hours. Player is witness to an interrupted invokation of a greater demon. A Golgotha and several lesser Motherkin [+ meat priests? Golgotha sub-sect?] emerge and slaughter the invokers. Player must escape the summoning location and leave the building to save their life. In the opening, mashing [x] will pry open a door while the Golgotha instructs the lesser demons to come after them. Once out of the starting room, the player must sneak and distract their way to the outside. Sounds produced by them, whether through running or the knocking over of objects, will attract the demons' attention. One weapon can be found [shotgun], but killing the demons is close to impossible. Lesser Motherkin can be taken down [direct 8+ shots], but the Golgotha can only be knocked over, permitting escape. The building is dark from loss of power [?] or no light switches are activated. Turning on lights will attract attention, but may be necessary to navigate some rooms. Lesser Motherkin move normally through rooms and hallways. Golgotha will also patrol, but will "spontaneously appear" if enough racket is made. Meat priests will phase through walls. Golgotha may do the same. Walls are destructible. The player must escape within a set time limit, as the prolonged presence of demons with a gateway open will corrupt the building by creating a dimensional cross-over. Meat will begin to form under drywall and break free. Areas visited after x-amount of time will show signs of contamination, eventually enough of it will prevent advancement in directions that lead towards older areas closer to the center of the event. For this reason, multiple escapes from rooms and floors will be possible as a necessity. Attracting the attention of a Motherkin may also help in this regard, by the demon tearing down a wall to get to the player. A player can hide from the Motherkin, but they may be discovered if they create any undue noise or the demon sees them taking cover. If less than 1/2 a room is between the player and the demon when they take cover during a chase, the demon will search all valid hiding locations in that room. The win condition is escaping the building via the main-floor foyer.]]


Mar 14, 2017

IO: Narratives:

  • - Pride: Rise / Fall of Urz [3,000+ years?]
  • - Pride: Escape of Mongrel, limited text
  • - Gluttony: Second fall of Gluttony
  • - Wrath: Escape of a Mout, textless
  • - Envy: ???
  • - Greed: Rise / Fall of Ellis
  • - Sloth: Fall of Uelojis [4 days]
  • - Lust: ???
  • - Dis: [//written?//]
  • - Pandemonium: Fall of the Worm Covenant
  • - Dement'tia: Mad God, Rise / Fall of Gashe / Pigface [???]
  • - Dement'tia: Rise / Fall of Maunstrou / Godkiller [???]
  • - Dement'tia: Rise / Fall of Infliction [200 years]
  • - Dement'tia: Death of Urd
  • "Mazes of Our Own Creation" - Damned only
  • "VISIONS" - Hell proper
  • "An Informal Visitation to Hell" - various demon species and persons

Oct 04, 2016

IO: Abstract demons are rarer in modern times as ideals and beliefs shift from abstract concepts and metaphors to concrete personifications and anthropormorphism. Abstract species are, however, extremely tenacious, and prey upon their more descriptive cousins by corrupting their minds to "refine" their behaviours to better reflect how they believe worship and praise to Hell should be performed. Their philosophical cannibalism is described as an expression of "general disagreement" with the current state of Hell, which they view as squalid and teeming with incompetents and "mental abortions".

Abstract demons wage war "on the mind", preferring the sowing and breaking of ideas and weakening of the mental and philosophical spirit to bring souls closer to Hell as opposed to direct impregnation of ideals through encouragement of idolatry and acts of violence. "Madness" is an abstract demon's weapon and calling card; their physical rejection of accepted reality, scientific or fictional, makes their witnessing a mental blow of immense proportions in an era of enlightenment. Abstract demons strike where their warped figures evoke the most damage - institutions of education and scientific enlightenment - targeting those who view the world as a set of rules. Those who regard the nonconforming with fear and disgust are prime prey.

Despite their airs, abstract demons are not adverse to harvesting low-hanging fruit. While driving the educated to insanity is their preferred method of influence, they are not above grinding the already vulnerable into the ground. Abstract demons searching for easy entertainment stalk halls of mental institutions, terrifying patients and inspiring acts of self-destruction.

Abstract demons are difficult to barter with, as they prefer to meddle and warp instead of performing favours. Their demands are erratic and eclectic, generally revolving around the spoiling of the body and mind or performance of "rule breaking". Jars of "twice-passed" offal, fish urine, sonatas made to evoke disgust, a needle passed through the eye of a philosopher, and the bile of those dead for less than two days are common requests for trade of temporary services. Those who barter with an abstract demon must be aware of the demons' cannibalistic nature and disdain for rigid perception.


Mar 10, 2017

IO: The mythological status of the Xeres is maintained primarily by the Court of Charity, which obsesses over the Wheel of Fortune's absence from its Halls. Devout parties of Court members are periodically sent to Greed's surface to search for the shard of Babylon the Great that shattered into the first formation of the Level, which has not gone unnoticed by Ellis, the current ruler of Greed.

The establishment of the Dement'ted Elite was largely based upon those who defected from Hell alongside Urd in the beginning throes of the Dement'ted War. High-ranking and otherwise powerful demons were immediately recruited to Urd's closest and highest ranks, bolstered by the especially malleable. Ranks would be thinned of those who aspired too high upon the social ladder or began to show any threads of doubt in his campaign.

How the War began is not a topic well understood within Dement'tia's common population, and suffers from accusations of direct (or indirect) obfuscation from commoners in Hell to their ruling powers. The causation of the Dement'ted War is generally described as "simple as it can be". Thirst for power drove the foundation of events that would become the War. The death of the Ten-Faced Beast brought with it the destruction of a "unified" Hell - now too large for a single ruling entity, and still physically expanding and splitting into what would become modern Hell. Without the guiding hand of the Beast, the holders of the Crowns Fair argued amongst themselves over the future of Hell and its expanding landscape, most of which was unmapped and unclaimed. The full expanse of the inferno was unknown, but fears of insufficient, finite space for the Damned were already present, even before the Beast's passing.

With the shattering of Babylon, demons aspiring for influence and power struck out from its remains to claim land for themselves, bringing with them eager expansionists. To many, Hell's splintering into ever more discs was a sign of Hell's shrinkage, with splitting planes assumed to be eventually eaten by the Abyss. The concept of Hell's slow demise struck fear into many, which Urd, then a minor figure within Babylon's crumbling walls, took full advantage of. He campaigned before the courts of Dis for permission to expand beyond Hell itself to search for more stable land - suggesting that the Hell they lived upon couldn't be all there was, that more Hell awaited discovery. At the time, the theory that the splitting of Hell was a test of its denizens by the Soul of Hell, or even a display of displeasure of their performance, was considered potentially true. Urd preyed upon this ideal and used it to bolster his platform of colonising a new, expanded Hell.

Whether or not Urd believed his own diatribe is unknown.

Dement'tia was founded as a research capital. Under the superstitions of the day it was believed that the inability to convert and cleanse Damned expediently was the source of Hell's presumed wrath against its own people. [?] Seen as a refinery, Dement'tia was likened to a mining operation, a free-moving arm to capture and filter Damned in-transit to Hell created in an effort to wring what could be drawn from mortal souls as early as possible to feed a growing population lost in its own expansion. [?]

The sorting of Damned was a sordid affair that drew ire from the people of the era. The process was slow, and with Damned collected as a resource, its restriction created considerable divide amongst fledgling rulerships. Damned could not be Punished by those who did not understand their sin. [?] The restrictions were seen as a form of classism. Urd would use this discontent to "sell" his domain to those frustrated with the struggling but necessary system, claiming that "everyone gets their fair share" in Dement'tia, before anyone else. [?]

Dement'tia's distance from Hell proper gave Urd a feeling of freedom and flexibility that was up until that point unknown within the ruling class in Hell. Rulership in Hell was still ultimately servitude to the Soul of Hell, which generated a sense of resentment and desire in Urd over time. In his physical distance from Hell, Urd permitted to fester in his mind thoughts of usurpment and independence. What power or existence did Hell truly possess if independence and maintenance of demonic existence could be sustained so far from its grasp? Urd's dissent is what kick starts the initial conflict that will become the Dement'ted War. Urd's parceling of Damned to his own followers before those in Hell / Hell itself, his interference with free will, and his further isolating of Dement'tia from Hell is what begins the Dement'ted War. Urd's greatest misstep is his encouragement of acts of Dissent, the direct influencing of souls to commit to Damnation instead of forging their own choices under the power and allowance of free will. This fundamental violation is what turns all of Hell against him, forcing Urd to detach Dement'tia from Hell proper, and become dimensionally isolated.

As a location, Dement'tia is incredibly small in comparison to Hell proper. Its survival for all this time is attributed entirely to its technology of syphoning Damned to itself without waiting for the Damned to cross to the Foyer, and its system of sowing Dissent to directly Damn souls to its doorstep. Dement'tia has only a single lifeline in this respect, and its severance would result in its swift degradation, starvation, and dissolution. To prevent its destruction in this way, Dement'tia must be constantly "moving" - shifting its location, or rather, the entries to its location [?], throughout space. It's population is a percentile that of Hell, but its tactics keep its opponent guessing. Dement'tia makes up for its lack of attrition with its technology, which it uses with impunity to steal resources from Hell and launch calculated strikes with the worst it possesses to where the resulting discord will be greatest. The War itself has lasted so long only for Dement'tia's ability to escape literal razing at the hands of Hell. Hell possesses the means to destroy Dement'tia easily, but not the ability to lock the location down. Urd uses this to his advantage by goading Hell's forces with red herrings to stretch its immense resources thin across as large an area as he can to isolate and exterminate.

Despite its size, Hell has only so much in resources to dedicate to Urd's extermination at a time, and its internal conflicts amongst its own people do not help. The War takes a considerable toll on Dement'tia's population, thinning it and corrupting its bloodlines as generations progress. It is not until the death of Urd and the abduction of Urz that the War truly shifts in Dement'tia's favour. It is not until this point that the Old Guard return to Heaven and stage a violent coup of the Courts, forcing many of Heaven's inhabitants into a conflict they had happily ignored until this point.


Mar 06, 2017

IO: Aurum Saccularius is the mastermind behind the thieving of the Wheel of Fortune, and the Xeres people are the descendants of his cohort [two, three legions?] within the Court of Charity, then-termed the Golden Legion [?]. Aurum's original name has been either forgotten or buried under spiteful records keeping. The original reasoning for the thieving of the Wheel is unknown but heavily speculated upon by the Court of Charity and its related arms. The old guard of the Court argue that Greed took the heart of Aurum and his Legion, while others postulate (quietly) that the Court was relieved of the Rota Fortunae because its influence to commit Evil Deeds in the name of material gain was beginning to creep into the Court as a whole, and so Aurum stole the artifact to absolve the Court and confine the Temptation where it belonged: in Hell, where it would never be found.

Regardless of his reasoning, Aurum Saccularius and his cohort should not be mistaken for well-meaning or charitable people. Aurum and the Golden Legion are pitiless creatures, their malevolences welcomed and taken in wholly by Hell. The Golden Legion's unforgiving disdain towards the accumulation of material wealth is preserved in its entirety as a gleeful enjoyment of others' anguish of the loss of "beautiful things" and the costs of the accumulation of wealth on the body and soul.

The name "Xeres" is thought to be derived from old Celestial meaning "wealth" or "riches" or some derivative thereof.

Though rare, Xeres can be encountered outside of Hell, summoned as a pox or curse on someone with great wealth. The Xeres will inhabit the accursed's home or person, devouring or destroying anything of value, until either the victim is left penniless, or the curse is lifted and the demon permitted to return to Hell. The victim's belongings will either disappear entirely in the real world, or be replaced with "fakes", crafted from the scat produced from the consummation of the originals. A single Xeres will make short work of a fortune, and its removal as a blight takes considerable resources and effort on behalf of the exorcist, as the demon will resist any attempts to send it back to Hell. Its detection as a summon is difficult only for its propensity to be afflicted upon the very rich, who are unlikely to contact the esoteric for solutions, and its ease to be mistaken for an Imp infestation, who devour and steal everything as opposed to only things of "value". Inflicting a Xeres upon someone as a curse requires the target to possess considerable wealth in both gold and stones as a baseline. As Xeres possess a diet of precious metals, it is not uncommon for an abode cursed with a Xeres to have its wiring, nails, and cutlery systematically disappear along with its riches.

A person under possession of a Xeres demon will experience immediate desire to eat small items of value such as coins, bank notes, and small gemstones. This behaviour can be easily mistaken for pica in its beginning stages, which will allow the demon to gain a greater hold on the victim over time for lack of intervention by exorcism. Eventually, the possessed's appetite will expand to attempts at consuming larger, more valuable objects such as ingots, cutlery, china, and even exotic items such as paintings or rugs. This will result in choking, shattered teeth, internal injury, and poisoning. Unchecked, a person possessed by a Xeres will quickly succumb to self-inflicted injury in attempting to consume metals and minerals, or, simple starvation from a lack of nutritious intake.

The extent of damage or how quickly a possessed inidividual will fatally succumb to possession is highly dependent on both the personality and self-control of the demon, and that of the victim. A Xeres with high self-control towards consuming precious items will sustain a longer possession than that of one undisciplined. A victim with especially great willpower can curb the desire to eat money and stones, but if the demon is undisciplined, the strain of resistence will take a considerable toll on the possessed.

The affliction of a Xeres upon a home will result in signs of possession-behaviour across multiple persons inside the abode and various poltergeist-like phenomena. A house cursed with a Xeres summon will show varying signs of paranormal activity depending on how long the demon has been present. Initial signs can be mistaken for electrical or plumbing malfunction in the form of electrical shortages and noisy pipes. A Xeres will manifest spiritually in the most filthy location of the home, generally an unkempt basement, kitchen, or bathroom, with its influence taking form with tarnishing nails and mirrors, fraying electrical wiring, and the backing up of pipes. A faint odor of scat and ammonia will permeate wherever the demon first manifests, and will hang in the air throughout its occupation. As its presence lengthens, small items of value such as coins will begin to disappear or become damaged. In general, nickles will be affected first, followed by pennies, dimes, and eventually bank notes. Once larger items of value begin to vanish or become vandalised, stronger notifications of the demon's presence will manifest. Those who inhabit the home or otherwise spend considerable time within it on a regular basis will experience the desire to eat coins and chew cutlery, pick at and swallow small objects of falsified value such as metallic plastic, and eventually succumb to full instances of attempting to eat china, sculptures, and jewelry. Houses under prolonged affliction of a Xeres will eventually experience catastrophic failure of waste plumbing, with sinks, tubs, and toilets backing up and spraying filth. Water in taps or held elsewhere in the home will convert to urine and any food aged beyond four hours old will dissolve to offal. Walls will ooze what appears to be liquid metal, but upon touch will degrade to scat. The height of a Xeres curse upon an abode will culminate in all remaining residents fighting over what valuables remain while smearing themselves in their own waste touted as riches. Soon after, the house itself will slowly collapse from rotted support and flooding.

Exorcising a Xeres is a difficult affair. Discovering the demon requires the use of gold, as the Xeres' spirit will appear in its reflection. Any polished surface of real gold, plated or solid, will reveal the demon, but the larger the item the greater the chance of the creature taking notice of the exorcist and acting against them. Invoking Christ is considered ineffective in combatting Xeres, as the demon possesses no fear of the crucifix, holy water, or reverence towards the power of Yaweh. Attempting to expel a Xeres with Judeo-Christian methods will result in retaliation. Those possessed will likely strike at the exorcist, or aggravated phenomena will occur within an afflicted house, generally taking the form of waste seeping out of floor boards and the spontaneous tarnishing of precious material immediately nearby.

A mirror plated in 24-carat gold can exorcise a Xeres from a victim or a home instantly, but the mirror itself must be at least eight feet tall, capture the creature's direct gaze, and be immediately covered to prevent the demon from escaping. Xeres trapped in a golden mirror can escape back through the item as a physical manifestation should it become uncovered. Sending a trapped Xeres back to Hell requires the destruction of the mirror. A Xeres can be held in the mirror for a prolonged period of time for so long as the item's reflective surface is completely covered. Cloth or paint serve equally well, but if paint is used, the coating must be consistent, and any cloth must be of an intact weave, as any exposure of the mirror's face can allow the demon to fight for freedom. A Xeres-possessed mirror will warp and spoil any valuables within twenty metres. Metal will tarnish, stones will corrode and fog, paintings and rugs will dissolve into filth, and wine will convert into urine.

A physical manifestation of a Xeres can be achieved either via the demon's escape from a golden mirror, or extraction from the possessed. Extraction from the possessed will result in the victim's death via bone and organ warping and displacement as the demon exits from within the afflicted's body. As with all physical manifestations of demons, the only guaranteed way of sending a manifested Xeres back to Hell is to open a direct portal to Hell itself. Exorcists can attempt or reattempt to trap the demon inside a golden mirror, but with the demon freely roaming, this is markedly much more difficult. Killing the demon is the only other known method. However, fighting a Xeres demon is a tall order. The species' size and hardiness make it a difficult target to dispatch without similarly weighty weapons. As the species lacks pheromones and similar chemicals, a Xeres cannot hypnotise or hide its presence via "glamour". As a result, if manifested, these demons are aggressive and take little care in concealing themselves. Unless resistance is pronounced, a manifested Xeres will likely ignore the people around it and immediately make its way to any source of valuable items, with jewelry shops being the most common targets.

Aurum Saccularius and the Xeres can be invoked to barter gifts, but this is not recommended. Xeres that are invoked to bestow gifts will generally refuse or offer false treasures that will dissolve into sand or waste within three days. Attaining "true" treasure from a Xeres requires the invoker to proffer an item of considerable material value, as these demons will not barter on items of emotional value. However, should a summoner manage to make a trade, they must take care that the item given by the Xeres in exchange is not cursed in nature, as the riches under Xeres ownership are of ancient Babylon the Great and likely to be imbibed by the spirit of Hell.

Bartering with items of emotional value for gifts of material value can only be done with Aurum Saccularius. Attaining spiritual audience with this demon requires the commitment of grand Evil Deeds, and if performed correctly, the demon may impart upon the summoner the gift of alchemy. To summon Aurum, the invoker must prove that he or she values wealth above all else, via the grand Evil Deed of literally or metaphorically sacrificing their own blood for material wealth, and the further sacrificing of this wealth to attain greater potential wealth. This devotion to the accumulation of riches must reach to the pit of one's soul, and any faltering of this resolve will result in the failure to attain audience with the demon. Invokers must take care, as Aurum Saccularius cavorts in the dredge of the rich, and asking audience of the demon will consign their soul to the creature's possession to be retrieved whenever he sees fit. Bartering with Aurum will also gain the attention of the Court of Charity, who will attempt to use the victim to locate and prosecute the demon and his former Legions for the theft of the Rota Fortunae. Those who have undergone deal-making with either the Xeres or Aurum himself may be able to find solace and forgiveness through the Court of Charity, but the veracity of this is unknown.

Aurum's audience is not granted by commitment of wealth, but by commitment to wealth. His disdain for the attainment of riches at any expense has grown throughout his occupation in Hell, and he is happy to oblige the spiritual squalor the greedy entertain amongst themselves for his own amusement. Those that fall into his grasp are held within his pool of filth under the face of the Wheel of Fortune upon retrieval of their soul. Those that invoke him are given a vision of their fate upon Aurum's arrival for audience. Those that receive this warning often beseech the disciples of Uvogis in attempts at attaining life-extension to avoid their fate of infinite drowning in Aurum's pools of scat. Those who attempt and further succeed in extending their time in life to side-step claiming by Aurum are sent blights to remind them of what awaits. The smell of waste will invade their nostrils wherever they may go, flies will be present around their person regardless of location, and offal will permeate whatever pleasures they take of.


Feb 01, 2016

IO: Apt as natives of Gluttony, the Nigrim are a ravenous people and have little reservations against making Damned, Abyss Life, Demon, and Angel alike into a meal. Opportunism and equality in targeting defines Nigrim hunting practices and acts as a social cornerstone. Nothing is off the table for consumption unless it can escape from or overpower its pursuers or produce a greater opportunity for a meal in being spared than it itself provides as prey. The social status of prey holds no value unless it can be leveraged to the cluster's advantage to, again, gain greater amounts of food than the target presents as an individual or a group. This is applied to whom or whatever an individual Nigrim or cluster may encounter, including other, rival clusters. This attitude, prevalent across all Nigrim clusters rural or capital, has impressed upon them by other species a stereotype of untrustworthiness, to which the Nigrim themselves have made no indication of offense or care.

Cannibalism is a mainstay of Nigrim culinary and social culture, expressed boldly wherever they frequent via the flaunting of the hides and viscera of other Nigrim as cloaks and jewelry. The wearing of the hide itself is not a statement of strength via the felling of a strong or admirable opponent worthy of preservation, but rather an expression of the wearer's "hunger". As hunger is the driving force of Nigrim social structure and individual existence, the expression and satiation of that hunger is the most noble and frightening form a Nigrim can present. The more skins and organs a Nigrim layers upon herself, the greater the statement of her hunger.


Nigrim are the primary vehicle of law enforcement in Nis, regularly patrolling the streets of the city. Nigrim patrols are avoided by all but the most politically secure inhabitants in Gluttony. Encounters with Nigrim patrols are known to result in disappearances, the reasons for which are all but impossible to determine with Yomesh's policies of obfuscation and maintenance of the status quo. As the Nigrim are ultimately self-serving in the satiation of their hunger, the Level Lord's policies of public surveillance, nondisclosure, and misdirection are readily taken advantage of. Citizens of Nis can become targets for patrol clusters at any time, using shallow but difficult to combat accusations of "disruption" and suspected criminal activity to leverage reasoning to "detain" individuals or entire groups for questioning. Those who resist are further accused of disturbance and unlawful behaviour. Those who are "arrested" under such pretenses generally do not return. The known secret behind this behaviour is Nigrim preying upon Nis' occupants as food.

During Gluttony's darkest day hours, Nigrim will not bother with pretenses of law enforcement to wrangle inhabitants for their own uses. Instead, they will simply stalk, pursue, and corner targets in disadvantaged districts. Those who attempt to lodge complaints against the clusters are known to become targets later. For this reason, a culture of paranoia and avoidance defines the inhabitants of Nis beyond the Road of Plenty.

Nigrim attitudes towards other Demon species is not considered to be especially influenced by the policies enforced by Yomesh, as similar behavioural tendencies do arise in Nigrim living or otherwise stationed outside of Nis. Nigrim are not uncommonly employed as patrol officers in the districts they inhabit, possessing speed, power, and a drive that is considered an asset in the peace-keeping of many of Hell's cities. A Nigrim's natural draw to pursue and coordinate amongst her sister cluster members for efficiency in the hunt, replaced in the metropolitan setting with the chase of a culprit, is seen as a boon to law enforcement. However, regardless of training, the Nigrim's natural instinct to answer to her hunger trumps all else, and will produce crooked behaviours that are counter to their station as enforcers of the law. A Nigrim's allegiances can be temporarily swayed with the prospect of a prey offering. If a target that "will not be missed" is presented, a cluster may agree to make such a target "disappear". However, purveyors of such opportunities need to take care that they themselves do not become a target in the vein of "house-keeping loose ends".

While employed under patrol as a whole serving the same law, Nigrim patrols will treat each other as rival clusters, and will enact territorial and sub-tribal warfare. Rival patrols will target each other's members as food.

Mar 02, 2017

HELL 2525: Matilda is a victim of circumstance. Her family immigrated or paid a visit to Dis from Greed, and via unfortunate events, Matilda became separated from her mother and father while in the city, and was never reunited. [?]

The vastness of Hell permits isolation of entire cultures and species from the rest of Hell's peoples. These species and cultures can exist, thrive, and further wink out of existence without ever coming into contact with what else wanders the plane's expanses. While this permits the existence of entirely unique bloodlines, beliefs, architecture, and worship, it also allows for individuals to be incidentally broken apart with no hope of reunion.

Matilda is a casualty of Hell's vastness. Dis, lightyears wide, is connected via rails and temporary portals that operate upon the laws of mathematics. Singularities conjured into existence via the use of mathematical formulas produce folds in the axis of space-time, permitting near-instant travel between two distant points. Travel is not instant because the distance itself still needs to be crossed, albiet greater than the speed of light. [?]

The production of a singularity in this way may involve the breaching into or the production of a temporary doorway into a fourth or fifth dimension that permits the access of various points in space-time in sequence, but the inherent complexity of this dimensional matrix would require surgical precision on behalf of the mathematician to open a doorway to this matrix to the exact desired location in both space and time.

Alternatively, the rail system operates via punching holes into parallel dimensions that possess a "shifted" location upon the three-dimensional planes in relation to the rail track, resulting in the train technically never leaving its rails upon "warp". The closeness of these dimensions permits a near-identical reality between the dimensions supported as "stops" along the rail's course. In the event that a rail manages to punch into a non-parallel dimension, it and its passengers are permanently lost.