Grif, Kaya, Sherlock, Azula, and John's Bogus Journey - Part 1

[meat_mooks]

The venue itself was a strange place to discuss what they were discussing. It was a grave matter and they'd known it would be a grave matter the moment they got the mission briefing, even if it left out certain key details. (They knew who they were meant to do a favor for, but only now did they find out what that favor was.)

That was why the place it was being discussed was so odd.

People could live their whole lives without expecting to meet a group of angels in a bowling alley.

They could also live their whole lives without expecting to be asked to do with Grif, Kaya, Sherlock, Azula, and John were being asked to do.

[ooc: posting order: Grif, Kaya, Sherlock, John, Azula.]

Comments

[whyarewehere]

"You're asking us to what?!""

[kaya_waterwave]

Oh, it was clear enough for Kaya, although it still took getting used to, deities appearing in a place like this. From what she had been told, in order to interact with spirit beings, you usually had to go to their world.

Nonetheless, what they were asking them was still pretty heavy to hear.

"What are we going to come across?" She asked, already processing the "what" and wanting to know the "whos."

[on_your_nerves]

"We're leaving," Sherlock declared. "We're not idiots."

A pause.

"Well, I'm not an idiot."

Another pause.

"Neither is John. Though I can't speak for everyone else definitively."

[nerves_of_steel]

John jabbed an elbow into Sherlock's side, though he's just as rattled by what the angels are asking them to do as Grif. That was...certainly a a task, especially since there are people back on the ship far more powerful than they are. Why assign them this job?

[burnedbrighter]

Silently, sullenly lurking like a spent storm cloud with no more angry thunder or flashy lightning, the pale, thin former princess of the Firenation said nothing. She hadn't said or even looked at anyone since she was forced into this mission. Her presence up to this point had been that of a ghost following silently without even a simple acknowledging glance.

Her face was set in stone, her eyes hallow and empty. Bags of sleepless nights left shadows under those eyes which for the moment were hidden by unkempt bangs. She looked like a teenage runaway in this modern setting. One could hardly tell if she even was aware of what was going on.

[meat_mooks]

They were painfully beautiful and they were exquisitely terrible, exuding a brilliant light that seemed like it should have been painful to the eyes. They gave the impression that they could cause blindness (or death or complete annihilation) at a moment's notice.

When they spoke, it was with the underlying echoes of a heavenly choir, but the voices of those souls singing in rapture sounded more frightening than beautiful.

H̡e ̡wan͏t͟s y͞o͞u tó ̷go t͢o h͞e͞ll̡.̧ ̶He wan̕t̴s͘ y̷ou ̶to ŗesc̕ue ͠á ̢lo̢st҉ s̸oul̶.͘ Ìn exchan͘ge,̸ He̴ ̧w͞ill̢ ̡pļed̛g̸e͝ ̶his ͟en̢tire̷ host҉ to y̢o͢ur̶ ̀cau͢se̸ and hel̕p ̶y̶o̶u̕ ̶f͜ig̡ht͘ ̢yo͞ur ͏w̧a͡r͏ ̢a̴gai͜ns͞t t̢h͘e d͜estro͝ỳer̸s͞ ̛ơf wo͟rl͘d̶s̵.

The angels looked at them with faces that didn't have eyes and it was likely impossible to not realize that they were completely serious. The mission was to run an errand for the supreme deity of this world in exchange for backing in the war. The "errand" apparently involved literal trip to hell and back.

[whyarewehere]

Grif folded his arms across his chest stubbornly.

"I'm with Captain Deductions on this one, guys. I'm out. I quit."

[kaya_waterwave]

"And lose a chance to actually have some aid in this war?" Kaya looked dubious. "Exactly how many good options do we have in finding out what we can do to restore everything? Do you guys want to be like the last crew, at the whims of Stacy and the Daligig until they kill us off? Is that really the best option, to not even think about it?"

The deaths were still fresh in her mind. The senselessness, the fear, the lack of not even knowing. How could they let things continue that way? Could they win this war without allies?

And what was hell in this world like anyway

[on_your_nerves]

Sherlock leveled a long stare at Kaya, then turned back to the angels.

"Ignore the girl, she's clearly insane. We'll all be taking our leave."

Sherlock turned on his heel to go, assuming quite naturally that the others would follow along because the mission was clearly insane, when the air blurred and suddenly, there was another angel in front of him, pointing at him.

It was just pointing, doing nothing else, but somehow this was the most ominous, threatening gesture any being could ever make. That rapturous choir that echoed in the angel's voice became more cacophonous and shrill, as if it was full of screams instead of singing.

Y̛ou w͜il͘l n̕o͠t ͏disp͘le͘ase ̢H̡im.́

"And if we do?" asked Sherlock. "'Displease' him?"

Y̴o͘u͏ ẁill ̀n̢ot ̨díśpl͠ease҉ ̀H̢im͝.

"I suppose simply leaving is out of the question."

Y̷̢̦̭̪̰̝̬̼͙̤͈͖͔͙̱̪̣̭͛̈͒̈̈͟͡ǫ̴̥̞͇̖͕̟̗̰̺͍̪͚̩̜̟̓͒̈́͋́̕͟ͅŭ̴͍̺̮͕͚̑̐̒̽͊ͣͥ̈͆̅̎̑ͥͤ͜͞ ̸̴͉̪̝̹̠̺̻̜͕͕̫̭̘͉͙̼̦̬̩ͣ̌̉͊ͮͧ̅̉̉͆̏͆͛̓̊ͯ̚w̷̷̸͈͈̫̺͈̙̠̭͍̙̘͕̱̳͕̟̖̹͕̔̈͒̐̏͌ͦ̽̀͊͂̓̃́͜i̵̪̙̼̫̯̰͌̆̈́̏̃̋̆ͯ̓̉͂͞͝l̛̳̺̬̝̼͖̬̳̟̙̱̰̼͈̭͉ͯͥ̄̆̎͡l̶̨̛͇̯̗̫̹̩̥͆̉̋̍͂͗̇̚͞ ̵̸͚̝̞̙͕͙̬̰̥̞̟̟̟̺̉̊͆͊̑̊́̑͋͆̕ņ̵̨̪̫̙̔́̈ͨ̔͋̒̉͘͞ơ͕̤̟͍͖̠̫͙̺̗̞̻̬̖͎͚͕͙͔̎̅́̽̉̓ͨͮ̒͐͑͑̌̓ͤ̀̚t̑̋ͨͨͧ́̔̋̆ͯ҉͏̴͍̺͕̟̰̬͙̠̫̜̖̦̹̺̰ ̸̵̞̱̳͇͎̘̺̗͎̪̑ͪ̑ͧ͊̏́͠d̨̧͉̺̬̫̮̮̞͙̘̼͎̯̖͖̻̤̖̂̆ͩ́ͥ̾ͦͩͣ͒̋͒͊́̚͘͝ͅiͭ̈ͪͫ̔ͯ͌ͩ̐͑ͣ̎̾̽ͥ͑̒̆̚͏̤̦̘̮͉͔̻͖̣̫̗̝̠̰̻̠ͅͅs̵̜͔̺͎͔̹̬̞̫͇̈ͪ̏͛̊́͑͆͐̔ͫͥͤ̑͛̃̚͞p̡̱̱̠͎͈̫̦̰̭̥̺͖͖͉̣̹̬̱ͣ̇ͣ̄̈́ͮͥͮ̍̀̊͢l̴̷̡̛͖̙̖̠͍̯͙͔͕̩̙͖̤͇̞̱̹͓ͯͤ̓̔ͣ̾̽̈͆ͭ͛̊͞ͅe̡̧̧͓̮̜̞̱̫̲̳̘̣̜̾̓̈́ͦ͗ͧ̓̾̾ͦ̀̚͘aͧ̉̌ͤ̚͏̶̥͓͚͍̳͈͍̣̘̙͖͈̫͚̝ͅs̷̅͋͒̈̎̃̊̿̐̍̉̏ͥ͠͏̘̦̭͉͈̬͚̰̺͓̗͈̤͉͞ͅȩ̸̛͈͇̹͚͓̗͎̺͕̘͓̜͖̓ͨ̽̀̍̏̏ͫͬͯ̿̽̚͜͠ ̷̶̥̘̝̪̙̘̞̞̖̼̉̎͆ͨ̿̆̄H̵̴̡̛͈̻̙̞̰͖̞́͒ͩ̓̎̓̓͂͟ͅi͖̠͈͚̦͎̯̭̭͉͉͈͎̪̖ͯ͗̈́ͪ͌ͪͦ͛ͩ̊̔̈́͟m̸̰̝̲͔̦͇̪̭͍ͧ̾̑̿ͦ̅ͥ͊͟.̧̢͎͓̘̪̯͕̲͕̯͚͕̣͇̠̯̭̒ͤͪ́͒͒̋̔̀͠ͅ ̛̖̞̬̮̫̬̝͍̥ͣͥ̂͒̈͋̐ͪͨ̍͆̈̈́̑ͤ́̑͢͞ͅ

Sherlock, usually quite collected, swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, and looked back at the others.

[nerves_of_steel]

John grabbed Sherlock's coat and pulls him back away from the angel, stepping forward at the same time so that the two of them were on level. His guts felt like they'd liquified, just standing here along side Sherlock and trying to stare down a God's damned angel (who he really hopes can't hear his thoughts).

"All right," he said, licking his lips. "All right, you've made your point. Just how do you expect the five of us to do this where you in all your power -- sorry, the power that He bestowed on you -- can't?"

[meat_mooks]

The air blurred and the angel's hand was at its side as if it had never been raised at all, without having been at any other position in between.

He̛l̷l ͏is ̴t̕h̶e s͡ḩa͜do͞w c̶as͠t by H̸i͘s l͞igh̨t.͞ S͞hadow c͘a̶n͘no̧t ͘e͏x̵i̸s̢t̡ i̷n͜ l̨ig̵h́t̵,̛ l̛i͡g̡ht c̨an͞nót̷ exis͟t ͏in͞ sha̡do͞w̶.͘ ͘Oǹl͏y̷ lost͝ ͘sou̵ls or͝ ͜mor͝t҉al͘s ҉c̡an͡ ͢e͘n͢t҉er̡ ͜the r͢ȩal̵m̢ of th̢e̕ s͟o̡n̡ of̕ ͝t͜h̸e ̡m̛orning.

[burnedbrighter]

Souls. Angels. Spirits. It's funny how far she had come from her world and yet so much remained the same.

Beings of supposed great power still came to mortals for help.

Mortals still grew frustrated and angry with things they could not understand.

To think that she, of all people was being called upon now to help beings of such radiating strength. The disposed princess, the broken fatherless girl.

It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Perhaps this was just a faster way to get to her final resting place. Perhaps then she could finally close her eyes and rest.

She remained silent, unfocused. This world, these moments didn't concern her. Nothing concerned her anymore.

[whyarewehere]

It took Grif a moment to swallow his heart again after the angel stopped Sherlock, but he managed to go on without quavering.

"So you're going to drop us into hell."

He shook his head.

"I don't know how often you hang out with mortal people? But we aren't exactly fire proof."

Limbo

[on_your_nerves]

The darkness swallowed them all and plunged them into the freezing void. There was a moment where it would feel like they were being turned inside out, and even though there would be no pain, it would be so intense that unconsciousness would take them.

When Sherlock startled awake with a gasp, his face was pressed against some crushed flowers, he was shivering almost convulsively, and there was a thin layer of frost clinging to his face. The asphodel was gray, stems and all, a very boring, very neutral gray, somewhere in the very center of grayness. It was the grayest gray that could possibly exist and exactly the opposite of color.

Sitting up abruptly, he called out, "John!" but then when he saw that John and the others had all fallen near him, he relaxed just slightly. But only slightly. Darting over to the side of the other man, his eyes flitting to the others to see that they were breathing, he looked around at where they were, drawing his coat more tightly around himself. The air was just the perfect temperature that he couldn't even tell what the temperature was, but at least the of the void was dissipating.

It was a vast, vast field of flowers--asphodel, in fact--flatter than flat, that met gray skies at the horizon. Only the texture of the flowers distinguished it from the sky. Far off, there was a castle of some kind, also grey, spiraling up impossibly, with seven gates (also gray). Gray people in gray clothing milled around the castle like zombies (or perhaps they were just zombies).

The group from Stacy were the only splashes of color in a dreary gray world.

"I believe we're not in Kansas anymore," he said. "...Why is it Kansas in that phrase? Who would want to be in Kansas in the first place?"

[whyarewehere]

Grif was wiping frost from his visor and stretching, feeling it crackling in his armor's joints. He looked around for a moment, frowning to himself.

"Is this hell? Cause if this is hell, it's actually not that bad."

He got to his feet a little clumsily.

"Unless it's the magic eye thing making like... piles of flesh-eating maggots look like flowers."

Helpful, Grif.

[burnedbrighter]

Azula remained laying still in the frost and cold for a long minute letting her body adjust to the stinging throbbing pain of the rough tumble it had taken. When she sat up she looked just as pale and grey as the world around them. Her natural pale features and dark hair blended perfectly

She shivered and the empty hollow look had flickers of sharp irritation. Cold and ice were miserable horrible things, and she had never cared for flowers.

She sat there lost, looking around almost disinterested remaining on the ground for now.

[kaya_waterwave]

Kaya arose assessing the situation. Grey everything, grey people and the words reminding her that this was a projection in their mind, that what hell really was could unnerve them. So, for this time, they had to trudge on, had to be strong and do what they were sent here to do.

Insane? This whole mission was really, but what other option was there? Sitting on the ship, waiting for the newest catastrophe? Making herself a sitting duck here? The options were ugly, but they had to be met. She had to tell herself she would not falter. There was frost here, so she had THAT at least. Worse come to worse, she would do what she could.

It took a moment. Her back to the others, she put her fingers together and imagined her will as a three sided force around her, around them. Ground and center. Repeat the litany of fear in your head. Take in the surroundings. Breathe, in. Out. Again. Stay strong.

"So I guess the destination is to that castle," she said aloud. "Then we'll concentrate on that. Better not to think about what this place really looks like."

[nerves_of_steel]

"You can quote The Wizard of Oz," John said to Sherlock, because being incredulous about the things his friend deemed "important" was a better idea than focusing on the fact that they had just been chucked into Hell by a bunch of angels.

He shot Grif a dirty look -- of course the person protected from touching the ground by a complete set of armor would bring up the possibility that they were actually sitting in maggots -- and climbed to his feet, brushing bits of crushed plants from his trousers. He noticed that the pale girl (Asula? Azzula? Azula, yes, that was it) hadn't gotten up yet, and moved to offer her a hand. "Come on then, up you get."

"Castle is the only thing around," he agreed with Kaya. "Not sure I like the look of the people, though."

[on_your_nerves]

"Is that what it's from?"

He could quote it. It didn't mean he knew what the quote was from. Deleted it.

"And if they attack us, you can shoot them in the head," Sherlock said, perhaps just a little callously. "That's how it works with zombies, isn't it?"

He stood up himself, brushing maggots crushed flowers off of himself. Something about his body language made it look oddly like he was trying to hover protectively around Azula and Kaya simultaneously. One had saved his life and the other...the other was too broken.

Whoops, sorry!

[arespectablesoldier]

Grif shuddered. "Dude, if there are any zombies down here I am more out than I was already." Regardless, he slung his rifle down off his back.

"So. We're going to go up to the big castle. Decision made, let's get moving before I can change my mind."

His attention briefly landed on Azula. "Can you even walk?"

Re: Whoops, sorry!

[kaya_waterwave]

"If there were zombies, you wouldn't know," Kaya said, "and let's face it, the less we know right now, the better. If we have to get to the castle, let's get there quick. This will get ugly the longer we hold onto our fears."

She glanced over at Azula, and for a moment, there was a look of nothing but pure evaluation. Regular Kaya would have felt compassionate, would ahve talked to Azula right now.

But they couldn't have that girl right now.

"She can walk. She's just processing."

[burnedbrighter]

Azula glanced up having heard them address her, but the empty look in her eyes didn't offer any hope that she had understood. Despite that she rose to her feet slowly, lips pursed slightly. She didn't like this quiet. It was a quiet that seemed to infect the noise in her head till everything was muffled like when your ears were full of water.

Wretched water.

Without a word to anyone else she turned her attention to Sherlock. Even such as she was she knew that he was the only one here she had a bit of faith in when it came to making the right choices. She would follow them for now and if this really was just the first step towards eternal torment and suffering for her life then there was no sense in fighting it.

[nerves_of_steel]

John watched Azula with concern. Hell was no place for...well, any of them, but it certainly wasn't a good place for a girl barely responding to outside stimulus. He followed her gaze toward Sherlock and raised his eyebrows questioningly at the taller man, who he was surprised to see also seemed to be projecting concern toward the two girls. While that would be normal behavior for most people chucked into Hell with a couple of teenage girls, it was unusual for Sherlock. But then, so was getting chucked into Hell, John supposed he couldn't really expect normal Sherlock behavior in the face of Hell.

"Right," he said, casting worried looks between Azula and Sherlock. "If Grif's going in front, I'll take the rear -- may as well have the two of us with the most military experience watching out in front and in back." He made shoo-ing gestures with his hands to try and get the other three into a cluster where he could keep an eye on them, and on Grif besides.

[on_your_nerves]

Sherlock actually listened for once, falling into line in the middle, looking on edge but not as on edge as he would have if someone other than John was watching his back. It said something about how much he trusted the other man that he had no urge to look behind him, instead believing implicitly that he didn't need to.

Falling into step next to Azula, he leaned over slightly and said very simply, very quietly to her, "I told you--it's a choice. When I met you, within a minute of meeting me, you were already tearing me to pieces in your mind. You're not this weak."

It wasn't kind, it was hardly sensitive, but it also wasn't said harshly. It wasn't a demand or an insult like her father would have given, an insistence that she be flawless. Instead, it was a statement of fact, him telling her that her lack of weakness was implicit rather than something she had to prove. She was bright, brilliant, and she could master herself if she had the will for it.

[whyarewehere]

Grif, for once, had the sense not to scoff about military experience.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm in the tin can," he grumbled instead. If anything suddenly came up on them, he was the one best equipped to take the hit. He didn't like it, but it was practical. "But if I'm on point I'm going to be afraid of stuff. No pep talk is going to stop me. It's like an inalienable right," he added as he began the trudge across the asphodel.