Delta Species 64.1: Hellraiser

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It's dark, and there aren't really grues about, but there might be oni and demons. The truth of their whereabouts have slowly begun to dawn on the shadow. They can't see their friends so much as sense them generally nearby, and can't interact with them beyond an empathic sense from Moonslicer.

They reeeaaally hope Major is okay, and not mind fried.

There is some kinda bright chirpy light they can see bouncing around and apparently this is Luke, and they can hear him and the others, but more than this is lost on them.

As they turn to look some more for anything else, they do see a few other features in the distance. Far off, they see the flicker of a wavering flame, almost more like a star than anything else, it seems so far away. Nearer, they see some sort of eerier green glow, shining off what seems to be the outlines of an underground cavern.

Laziness wins the day, and they head towards the fairy fire close by, eventually finding themselves climbing amid stalactites and enormous roots as wailing wisps dart around them. Higher up they see some sort of gap between the roots, and eventually they emerge into what smells like a garden. At least until something pins them to the wood. They look down. There's a knife through their chest.

After this, and not dying, they are greeted by the sound of utter gibberish. “$+@7 i/\/ 7]¬3 +2££! ;00'?3 $4`/ph !~ +]n3 7233!”

It looks... Familiar... Hey. That's their knife! Their cool knife that can channel voice energy! They haven't been dead more than thirty minutes and already Gensokyo scavengers are picking their bones clean. They pull out the blade, ready to give them all a piece of their mind. *Hey stabnuts!* they shout. Their vocal chords are still burned from the hot air below. *Stop stealing tech you don't know how to use!*

“7h4 +r33 <@/\/ $4\/3 (_)$! 4<<e]*+ 7]n3 +?33! T}-{3 ]D3+4/_2 $]-[0 7]¬3 \v/47!”

*What are you even talking about! It's a tree! Stop speaking stupid ancient dialects because you think you're mysterious and make sense!*

“;00 vv!]] J01N t]-[3 v0><, $0n6 0\/ t3h $+@2S!” The former voice freezes for a second, giving their attacker enough time to tackle them.

There is some scrabbling in the dirt, one of them having a disadvantage in fighting someone who is not entirely solid, the other one struggling due to not being entirely solid. Finally the shadow yanks their arm clean and throws a punch at where their opponent's head seems to be. They feel their fist pass right through, but their opponent immediately goes slack and falls to the side.

The shadow considers their options.

Somehow, their old body from before the first outsider incursion is alive again, and completely deranged. The previous light of revival events probably had something to do with this.

They spot the glimmer of a ghost watching them. “Thank you for that,” the girl says. “They've been causing problems around here for years.”

They wince. *Sorry. Think this one might be one of mine. What was all that they were saying about the flowers?*

She shrugs. “This tree is very pretty when it blossoms from what I hear. Wish I could see it some time, but it's magically sealed so it doesn't.”

*Ah. Maybe for the best then.* They reach a decision. *I think I'll get this out of here for you. Would you mind if I took manual control?*

The ghost waves at them a go ahead, and the shadow sinks their hands down into their chest, and the rest of them follow. Fitting quid pro quo.

Newly restored, they open their eyes, and grab their knife. They like that knife. The body starts shaking though, refusing to integrate correctly. They toss a wave over at the ghost girl again, then jump back down the hole between the roots.

Once again in the darkness, and with help from the glitch, their new muscles stop seizing up. If this happens every time they try to walk around above ground “alive” then this is going to be a problem. They try to access their new memories - no luck, they haven’t integrated correctly yet.

Now what, they wonder, and look around again. Hell seems really empty and boring – maybe it was decided this would be their most fitting punishment.

Finally they see something else. A fiery beast, with fangs and paws and all that is in the distance and approaching. Either Daquiri found out that the shadow fell in the hell and no one could get that from the yapping, or this might get worse, if more eventful. The creature will reach them soon.

Meanwhile, somewhere close by yet very far away, Moonslicer is determining that the Major is not dead, which for a short moment seemed to be the most and indeed only important thing in the world. By degrees however, Moonslicer comes back to herself with the understanding that 1. he is not dead, and 2. that's about all that can be said at this point.

The shadow speaks to the sword through the connection. *Moonslicer? I think I'm about to get a dose of divine punishment down here.*

And that more or less does it. Snapped back into the world- and then just as quickly out of it, Moonslicer realizes that something has happened. Something bad.

*You're supposed to accept divine judgment, right?* They say to Moonslicer. *Even if you were damned in life, it's like the one decent thing you can do after the fact.*

Moonslicer sags, an unexpected feat for a pole of metal, and casts about for anything that might disprove what they already know. *You're not here.*

*Pretty sure I'm in hell. Or maybe perpendicular to it, courtesy of this glitch thing infecting me.*

*No.* Is all Moonslicer can muster for the moment.

The creature is now close enough to make out details, like smoke unfurling from around it's neck. At full sprint, it is now in front of them. "Hey- uh..." Mary remembers the no name thing. "you?"

They nod to the creature. *Hey. So, I guess I'm getting assigned?*

"Assigned?" Mary asks, consciously bristling her fur to try and get the soot and all off. It might not help offset the scary hellhound thing very much.

*Yeah you know. Punishment and all that. Guess I've earned it,* they reply.

"Wha- never mind. I have come on very important business."

They look dubious. *You seem to got more power than me in this place. What kinda business?*

"Power? I more got in bec- oh, right, because I resemble the hellhounds. I get it now."

*You're not?* They ask. This is probably even more dangerous than they thought at first.

"You don't recognize me, then?"

*Don't know anyone who looks like an eight foot tall inferno wolf, no.*

Mary tries to make an illusion of her regular self. As the the nature of the place interferes, she sighs and starts pulling in the sulfur to perform a more primitive form of her illusions.

*This... you can't just... I didn't even see it happen...* Moonslicer objects.

*I didn't really make a big deal out of it,* the shadow consoles Moonslicer. *Once you've died once, it's not worth making a fuss about.* They look at the fire fox in front of them. *Mary?* they finally ask. *What're you doing here of all places?*

"I have a very important and sacred purpose, one practiced by my people since the beginning. I need your skills to accomplish it."

*Yeah but- you know where you are?* They query, incredulous. *Just how bad did the factory raid GO?*

"I was pulled from depths deeper than these." Mary says, pride in her late master showing through even now.

Their eyebrows raise at that one - the deeper depths are for traitors as far as they know, but that doesn't seem to fit Mary at all. *What can I do for you?*

"The bond of truest Cupla must be marked with a fine artistry." Mary answers. "To do this, strands must be woven, like the paths forever linked of those who shall wear them." Mary says, beginning her explanation.

This manages to shake Moonslicer out of the shock. *What?*

*Culpa? As in fault?* the shadow queries.

*Oh Pelor* Moonslicer thinks, with the tone of one who knows the insult is about to be added to the injury. *Poetic exposition.*

"No, Cupla, like friend. Bond." The fact it is related to the term couple goes unmentioned by her. The fire also picks up a few degrees too. The shadow puts up their hands to shield some of the heat. "And I can find a way out. Probably. But first, I need to know if you can help with this sacred ritual."

*Ooohkay,* they take that objection in. *I'm guessing you don't wanna marry me.* They consider it more. *Did go to hell for me though. I do appreciate that.*

Moonslicer can't help a snicker.

"W- No, no I do not. Me not wanting to marry you is, in fact, the most correct thing you have said this entire time. It may very well be the mos- I'm getting off topic. The ritual. So, the weaved together strings have colors chosen to match the two marked as Cupla's own identities and goals, because both goals still have importance, even while respecting the others."

Moonslicer utters the moan of the adventurer who knows she should be writing this down, but cannot bring herself to. Strings. The parts of a person? Puppet strings? The shadow tries to follow this. *Heart strings?* They offer again.

"Wh-" Mary says, again, "No. How would you tie to people's heart strings and color them. Like, string strings. You know... I believe your people use them to mark eternal allegiances that exceed all others as well?" Mary shakes her head, exasperated. "I thought it was quite a common practice here. Well, not here, obviously."

*I put my ranks in Lore: Nature not Lore: Nobility* Moonslicer says.

*I can think of a bunch of ways,* the shadow answers, *But maybe that's why I'm in hell.*

"I mean, to be honest, I was comparing thirteen methods as soon as you suggested it, but why would you assume it involved sacrifice without anyone saying it."

They consider more. *So like, tying red strings to pinkie fingers? Like that?* At least they seem to be getting closer. Mary is not sure why this is so difficult.

"1. I don't have a pinky, at least not one that could do that very well. 2. Why would I need your specific skill set for that." Mary tries to remember what those eternal allegiances that exceed all others are known as to the humans...

*Because it's hard to tie knots with teeth?*

"Yeah, but... I already clarified the different colors thing. Anyways, I've never heard of this pinky red string knot stuff. I believe what I'm thinking of is popular among those known as "BFFs" in your world.

There is a distinct look of awkwardness on their face. *Oh! Best friends forever! I would know all about that!* They give a nervous laugh, maybe no one noticed. Moonslicer once again displays her mastery of the empathic link by sending forth the impression of a fixed smile.

"You appear to have a very loyal one at your side." Mary points out.

They glance at Moonslicer. Their closest "friendships" used to unilaterally involve poisonings as a favor. *Yeah but I mean, that was after I died the first time and everything else is still pretty recent.*

"I am not sure a friendship can be more forever than following you to Hell." Mary knows teasing will happen at some point in this, so she turns it around, "Unless, of course, it is "Best" that is reserved for a certain yellow haired man."

Luke already has a best friend. More thinking. *You want to be best friends forever?* They asked, surprising themselves by how flattered they are by the offer.

Moonslicer finally seems to have some inkling of what's going on, and seems to appreciate the compliment.

"I actually came because I wanted the bonds of Cupla made for me and Mixy... but that is not to say I do not want to be friends. Or that I want the friendship to be temporary. But you appear to have two friends who would already compete for the "Best" category." Mary is also surprised at the how flattered she feels.

They nod slowly. *Okay, so what all do you need?*

Moonslicer mutters something about fetch-quests.

"The colors I believe are appropriate are pink, tan, and brown. I have heard of a certain pink thing that is colored perfectly for my purposes in these depths."

*The strings,* they verify. *And you weave the strings together? Into like a rope?*

Mary nods, "Into a... bracelet, I believe? Or would it be an anklet?"

*It sounds... nice.* Moonslicer thinks politely.

*Okay, I can make you a garrote, sure. Can't really see what I'm doing down here to weave anything, though,* the fallen wretch observes.

Mary decides to not correct them. They’d go into a rant about jewelry as a symbol of the opulence of the aristocracy. "I can help you get out. Once we find the pink thing." Mary mutters something about escort missions.

*Pink thing.* This conversation continues to be more baffling.

"I've only heard vague rumors. It's not like a lot of news comes back from this place. But it should be the perfect shade."

Moonslicer is a bit more familiar with the possibilities. *So what are we getting? Hell ore? Demon heartstring? Blood Ice?*

The shadow takes scope of their surroundings again. *Well only thing I see around here is besides the weird tree area is that glowing light way off over there.*

"I have heard it is some sort of crystal. It moves away from the flames when it is not observed, but other than that, I know little except I would know the color on sight. Oh, and that it's on this level of Hell. Ish." Mary looks at the glowing thing.

It is so far away it looks like a star. Almost as though - it's on a different world.

*This is probably metaphorical,* Moonslicer observes.

*It's hell,* the former voice replies by way of an answer. *We're lucky I'm not getting my blood drained by demon snakes.*

"Did you just respond to my internal observations?" Mary asks dubiously. "Anyways, this part is pretty lacking in the fire department. Or, I meant it doesn't have much fire. Basically it's a good place to start the search."

*Speak for yourself. It's scorching down here,* the shadow answers miserably. They shrug at Mary. *Shall we?*

"Well, most parts of hell are." Mary says, "I'm going this way. Hopefully that's where it is. I believe it also leaves a trail of its pink color. As I said, not much news escapes here."

*I've had less to go on,* Moonslicer offers.

The shadow follows, as in the dark as the other two. Mary eventually finds some of the pink trail she mentioned. It is like shreds of it taken off. "These do look like they could be used for our purposes." She says, smiling. Mary tries to get a scent off the shreds, and seems taken aback for a moment.

*So... how... Alive... is whatever we're chasing?* Moonslicer wondered, uneasily.

*Very little around here is alive,* the shadow points out. *Mary's probably the only exception.*

*You get my point.* Moonslicer replies.

"I think you need to use a better term." Mary says, looking at their surroundings, "Ah, picked up a scent."

Eventually, some of it is intertwined with... golden fleece. Mary stares at it. "That was not in any of the reports." She says, following the scent much faster.

*Allusions and metaphors. We're in for a treat.* Moonslicer sighs.

Finally, a battered orb of pink and yellow swirled together comes into view. As does some bull headed thing holding it. The shadow studies it. *I don't recognize this metaphor,* they say. *Mary?*

"Still a labyrinth thing? That means we were going the right way, right?" Mary says.

*Or the exactly wrong one.* The Bull Headed Thing points out.

*I mean the horned symbolism is indicative of- ah* Moonslicer contributes helpfully.

*Well? What does it indicate, little sword.* The Bull Headed Thing says, amused.

*The location, for one.* Moonslicer says, *What is that thing?*

The Bull shrugs. *I admit I do not know. It is leaving a mess all over the place, however, so I have been attempting to fix it.* He gestures with his large, meaty hands, *It is not working, but my minions appear to be away.*

The shadow is guilty of many things, and in hell it doesn't really matter if they're guilty of another. The thief tries to steal the orb. They're shadowy and it's dark. A simple plan.

They get their hands on it and are backhanded. The thing comes apart a little, throwing sparks around. But they got pieces of it!

*I have a thing!* they say excitedly, having learned nothing. They fly around enthusiastically, the piece they have sending more streamers off. This worked just so well. Best plan.

*Um...* Moonslicer equivocates. *I'm sorry, they're only just... arrived. May we have it if it's being such a bother?*

The Bull can tell they're new. It's that obvious. *Perhaps. Why did you follow it here, though?*

*We're on stage two of a fetch quest.* Moonslicer replies, as if this should clear up everything.

"It's... a pretty color?" Mary tries, realizing the truth is the least believable thing she could have tried. "Where am I on my escort mission?" Mary asks Moonslicer.

*Well we've not Super-Died or whatever yet so I'd say you're doing well.* Moonslicer answers kindly.

"Has our companion stopped flying through the air yet, though?" Mary asks. There are some *wheeheheheeees* echoing from around them - a clear no. "I feel like that might take a few points off." Mary looks skeptically at Moonslicer, trying to communicate more subtlely. *Is the color thing really the best explanation you're going to give?*

*Well I'm doing it because I've been told that it's going to help my friend.* Moonslicer replies.

*Are these bad lies, or worse truths?* The Bull Headed Thing wonders, *Either way, I like it.* With that, he gets ready to make a pitch, and balls the thing at the flying scientist.

The other companion overhears and skids to a halt by them *Oh hey. I got a good one. Everything ends and dies-* They get clocked unexpectedly by the flying orb. It kind of covers their face like sparking noodles. They should probably put it back together before something happens.

Moonslicer's tassel slaps over her eye. *Hell is a comedy. Of course.*

*This circle can be. Where are my minions?* The Bull Headed Thing say, waiting for them to gather up the now somewhat scattered pieces.

Moonslicer does her best to ignore having just gotten a freebie from Baphomet and get the string together. It's evident her... tassel mindey powers are getting better. The shadow wriggles helpfully, blinded by the sparkly thing. They should probably get out before he realizes they're getting all Orphean on him.

*All right I think that's all, let's go.* Moonslicer says.

*Wait, wait, since my minions aren't here, I was gonna ask if the sword could do some tormenting for me!* The Bull Headed Thing calls after them.

*Uh, sorry, I'm afraid it's... not my department?*

*I suppose that's fair, this not being the circle of wrath and all.* He says from the distance, his voice more booming as they get farther off. Swell guy, really.

Then balls of burning shadow magic start pelting the walls.

*LESS TALKING MORE RUNNING* the shadow reminds them.

*More talking more running* Moonslicer replies, but takes the point.

"So, anyone remember where we started?" Mary asks as they do the running thing.

It's pretty dark.

*I can still see that eerie cavern,* the shadow offers.

"I mean, the literal golden fleece has fallen apart, so I think the way to get out would be, you know, retracing our steps." Mary replies. "Also, do you think the gates are the right color brown?"

*Oooh. Well I can float* The sword offers, not terribly helpfully.

"Out of hell is up, right?"

*I didn't go through the gates,* they point out.

"Should I check?" Mary asks. "I feel like it might be the right brown." The shadow shrugs. They're not in any rush, they're not getting more dead.

"Actually, on second thought, that's probably more fortified. We could try and use the strands as rope and have you two pull me up?"

*I'm not actually sure what my encumbrance is.* Moonslicer muses.

The shadow looks uncertainly at the pink sparkling thing. *Isn't this someone's soul or something?*

*Uuuuuuuh...* Moonslicer says, suddenly worried.

Mary shrugs. "I can probably waltz out like I did in, then. You two try and go to the star thing and hope it's an exit?"

*I think if it's anything like a star we'd be down here for years. If you need someone to lift you up I have telekinesis,* they point out again.

"Hmm... Could either of you help with illusions?"

*I am a sword.* She replies. *Also why did you avoid my question. Is that a soul?*

*You're a soul,* the shadow replies to Moonslicer, very maturely.

"I... think it might have been, at one point." Mary admits.

*What's happened to it?* Moonslicer asks, pity in her voice.

"I do not know." Mary answers. "Although- oh." She stops. "Oh." She stares at it. "Golden with that pink."

*Have we been golden fleeced,* the shadow asks, sighing.

"We need to get that out of here." Mary says, shaking her head.

Dubious as this is, Moonslicer is not going to leave a destroyed soul in hell. The other lost soul notices the change in Mary's attitude with a pause. *All right.*

"So, again. Can either of you help with illusions in any way?" Mary prompts them.

*I am a sword.*

*I'm a shadow thing, and I don't really have any of my equipment here. I can make things dark?*

"Okay, then. You wrap onto me and you go under me. I'm going to try and get out the way I came."

*For the gate?*

"Pretty much, yeah. The upheavals of everything else made it easier to sneak in."

The ghost shrugs and walks with them towards the gates. There are terrifying looking little girls here. Because everything is little girls here.

*Oh I'd forgotten about that...* Moonslicer worries.

Mary just walks up between some, hoping they all assume she belongs to another. She's using her illusions to hide both the others, and to make herself look more like a hellhound.

They don't seem to notice Mary or Moonslicer. But they immediately notice the shadow. The girls step forwards with their scythes, barring the way for the shadow, and ready to bring the sharp edges down. They put up their hands and back away, then wave at moonslicer and Mary with a shooing motion.

"Standard Faustian Pact." Mary explains in a disinterested way, "Just wanted a tour."

The gatekeepers seem to not be concerned about anyone who isn't dead. Well, correction. They see over at another station they're trying to kick out some sort of cat youkai. But other than that, they don't seem to care.

*Go and get your gate pieces,* the shadow says.

Mary goes and rips something off an ornament of the door not too subtly then starts to leave.

The actual gate of hell is in shambles as it is. There's an obvious lack of financing. No one would even notice.

*So, um. Any chance these guys are the evil abomination type reapers?* Moonslicer asks hopefully.

*These aren't Cerebus, you can't just throw meat at them.*

Mary gives them an offended look for the Cerebus comment. "I wouldn't reference a stereotype of-" Mary can't think of a good comparison and trails off.

*I was a werefox for a couple of months, there was a whole thing, it was my inner animal or something. I think I have the privilege.* The Reapers look increasingly annoyed and they start to advance on the shadow with their scythes.

Mary makes an illusion of the shadow making a break for another gate.

The Reapers don't pay attention. *Look I'll just catch up with you guys at some point, all right?*

"No you won't," says one of the Reaper girls.

*Shaddup,* they reply.

One of the Reapers swings. The shadow just barely dodges back. Moonslicer flew forward and parried, her blade lighting with holy fire. The lemure tries to dart past the reaper as the little girl catches the fire on her scythe. The other reaper tries to charge after the escapee as Mary leads the way.

Moonslicer begins a fighting retreat with her friends, engaging a flurry of blows with the Shinigami.

The shinigami growls in frustration as they continue to escape down the cavernous hall leading to the gateway. "There are others of us on the surface," she says. "You won't get far."

*We'll see,* Moonslicer retorts coolly.

The other shinigami throws out a magical chain that wraps itself around the fallen wretch, yanking them backwards abruptly.

Moonslicer looks back at them with a yelp, trying furiously to disengage from her combat.

Seeing this show before her, Moonslicer thinks. She can't exactly try to help the tug, and she doubts it would help much anyway. Instead, she tries to swing at the one holding the chain.

The other one blocks Moonslicer. "Do you know how many of them try to escape every day?" the chain bearer asks. "Do you know how often we've had to drag them back?"

*I don't care. This one shouldn't be here.*

The chain however is also magical - and the magic is beginning to work on the shadow. They don't have to drag them all the way back to hell - they start to shake as the chain starts to separate them from the form they've possessed.

They shoot a panicked look over at Moonslicer.

She turns in a flourish, hoping to slice the chain apart. *SHING*

Moonslicer shimmers and her sharp edge sings, as the hellish metal shears and shrieks in protest. Yet, the Shinigami look bored, and seem to just be waiting. The shaking doesn't stop, and they almost seem to be fading.

The sword tears through the metal with a final burst and turns to face her foes, only to find them watching. She looks around in confusion, until she sees- *no.*

The fear gives way to a pained but resigned look.

*No.*

The heavy chains pull them to their knees, their body pitching forward as it's inhabitant is forced outward. There is an awful sound, the rage and pain and anger of the damned.

*You can't... I can't...* the sword says, breathless with disbelief. She rushes forward in a hopeless attempt to heal, but that power has long left her. It would be of little help in any case.

While Moonslicer has been distracted, one of the Shinigami has decided this is taking too long. They swing one more time, to sever the connection between the malevolent impulse and the puppet they were controlling.

The scythe strikes home. There is a final spasm, then silence.

*NO!* she cries out, one final time.

The shadow leaks out from the body, flowing back towards hell to join one of the dark rivers.

*no.* She whispers, a voice on the wind. *I cannot...* she says, floating forward to where their body lies. *I cannot fail them...*

The Shinigami don't look unsympathetic, but this is what had to happen. Their duty fulfilled, they walk through the gate again into the darkness.

And then, something seems to change in Moonslicer. A sword has no stance, yet it seems to change. She moves forward, resolute.

*I cannot fail them AGAIN!* she cries out, and with all the force she can muster, raises her blade to where she knows there must be a heaven. Her cry rings out with the strength of conviction, with pure faith, and with certainty that this is *wrong*, that this *should not be.*

...That it *Will Not.*

Every event of Moonslicer's existence crystallizes into a second, every memory and scrap of thought. Every act of faith and every channeled power. This has been their mission. For uncounted years this has been their mission. to protect, and to redeem.

Moonslicer is in tune with her purpose.

She swings downward in a shockwave of blinding power. *LIVE!*

It is an imperative, full of meaning beyond just this one instant of revival and survival. Their student so often seems disinclined to do so despite the fact they're getting to the point they might actually have an opportunity to build a life.

Whiteness blankets everything in overwhelming light.

For a moment, when the brilliance dissipates, it seems like nothing happened, but then there is a faint sound of breathing.

There is a rattling gasping sound. "Least... wasn't lightning...this time."

*heh,* Moonslicer chokes. *heh heh.* It turns into a sound of madness, joy. *Ahahahahahahahahaha* she cries, tears streaming down her blade. She wraps her scarf around them, winding the tassel into a tight hug.

Moonslicer doesn't seem to be worrying about that right now.

Mary also seems relieved. While they're still wrapped up and more manageable, she crouches down by them, then with a quick movement, tosses them across her back.

Moonslicer doesn't seem willing to let them go.

The fire fox carries them both, and trots over to a crack in the cavern wall, shimmering as she expands it and walks off onto the outside roads. They'll be back to the ocean factory and the rest of their friends soon enough.