dryskies_btb - Dead End 2: Deathly Di-Di-Doo Ch.21

[Hark; The Call!]

— Sean Caine —

All on my lonesome, early in the day, I saw to the routine and mundane maintenance of the bar. I wiped down tables, organized the mundane stock behind the bar and the more-than-mundane stock under it, and just generally spoiled the spirit of my domain.

The Genius Loci of the Dead End could take care of itself, of course, but there was nothing wrong with lending a hand when I could.

My Dead Enders were all out and about, doing one thing or another on their own. Even Didi and Gabriel had things to do today.

That was fine. I could exist on my own perfectly well. I’d had whole lifetimes of practice there, even if being all alone for an entire life was thankfully not the norm.

There wasn’t much coming up for the Dead End. Nothing major or defining. Not planned, anyway. Most of the things we participated in or acted as the backdrop for came as they would; ‘outside plans’ went to die in the Dead End, and when they did, Death and her Hand were there to pick ‘em up, dust ‘em off, and offer ‘em a drink and a story.

It was the benefit of setting up neutral shop somewhere and sticking to it (for the most part); interesting events and even more interesting people came to us. Perfect for a Reincarnator who would rather enjoy retirement at his own pace, and for Death, who was already an Endless part of… well, everything regardless. 

The Dead End was an odd and welcome sort of constant. Gotham had gotten used to us, and so had the rest of the ‘verse.

That wasn’t to say that we were wholly idle; we just weren’t active in the same way the most notable power players in the ‘verse were — heroes and villains, gods and monsters, so on and so forth.

We’d certainly affected the world around us, though. For the better, or at least, the more interesting, I hoped.

Honestly, a Dead End with ‘no plans’ was the best-case scenario; it meant nothing immediately required the attention of me or Didi. I’d have to check back in on places I’d affected and things I’d changed at some point — Oa and the Emotional Spectrum, Olympus, the Vega System, Mew’s Póke-creative antics, and Ciri’s Edgerunners — but the progress of those changes could cook a little longer.

Since the Dead End had no plans, externally, we could make our own fun, internally. My Dead Enders needed some personal attention — just us. It was about time I arranged the second session of Gamenight, a continuation of their chronicle in a World of Darkness.

I’d kept the success of the first Gamenight in the back of my mind, even going so far as to help Gabriel make a character for herself so she could join in when we resumed. And I had an idea for… escalation, a way to make the second session even better than the first.

My Dead Enders had gotten into the first session, to be sure, but there were heights of immersion and role-playing waiting to be reached.

And lucky, lucky; I had the power to throw our chronicle all the way up there.

Didi was Death, Endlessly, and I was her Hand. We were inextricably intertwined, but I wasn’t Death myself. In terms of Aspects, I was — as Didi had recently put it so well — more aligned with certain processes after Death and before Life Again.

After so many times through it, so much gained, learned, and experienced dozens of times over, I had a decently solid claim to Reincarnation. Especially when acting as Didi’s Hand, an extension of her Endless authority over Death.

Without her, it would’ve stayed just that for a good while longer, some thousand or so more lives before approaching any sort of Aspected apotheosis.

But I wasn’t ‘without her’. I’d landed in her lap in this life, and my Reincarnation had gotten the chance to settle and solidify when she elevated me as her Hand. I wasn’t Aspected with just that — it was a whole other tier of existence that wasn’t at all easily reached — but her support, vouching for me with Existence itself, gave me the metaphysical weight to skip the queue. In cultivating terms, and aided by the heights of that life, I was a ‘half-step to Aspected’.

I’d been mostly content to just let that half-step continue to consolidate up until now. But what was power for if you weren’t using it to give yourself and the people you care about a good time?

I knew many would disagree with that interpretation. ‘Might makes Right!’ Some would declare. ‘With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility,’ Others would say. But frankly? I’d had the good luck to retire early, and I was damn well going to enjoy that retirement.

I could already feel how to make use of the half-step Aspect for my plans. It’d be a glance backward, a bubble, a gentle cast of the reincarnating line, and then, when done, reeling it all back in. What retiree didn’t go fishing at least once?

The result would be existential power used for arguably petty ends. But then, I preferred petty. I preferred fun over profit. I preferred sharing stories with those I loved, and going a step further, letting those I loved experience the stories for themselves.

Smiling to myself in anticipation, I patted the Dead End on the bar. “Alright, bud, want to help me out with something?”

The Genius Loci practically purred its agreement.

“You know the Bat Signal, yeah?” I asked. “I want to put out a similar call to our people. Let them know their presence is requested. Think you can do that?”

An image was thrown back into my mind in reply. It showed a skull sipping from a martini glass. The Dead End eagerly waited for my approval.

I laughed, “Perfect! Can you find our people on your own or do you need me to-?”

The Dead End cut me off, almost offended. They were its Dead Enders! Of course it could find them!

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have doubted you. Go on and give them a shout,” I said.

“Hark!” The Dead End called; the echo vibrated down familiar lines of connection. “Thou art formally summoned unto trials of Gamenight within these hallowed walls!”

“Where did you even pick up those mannerisms?” I asked, shaking my head with amusement.

The spirit of my domain seemed to blush and kick its foot sheepishly. The image of Savage busting through the Dead End’s doors appeared in my mind.

“He would,” I sighed. “Did you invite him, too? He is essentially one of ours at this point.”

… It didn’t need to, the Dead End said. He was already en-route-

“Hark, indeed!” Savage burst straight through a wall that the Dead End repaired right behind him. “I know not what ‘Gamenight’ you refer to, but I am interested! Furthermore, I have brought my own! Tell me, Sean, how are your skills with the chakram, man’s deadliest frisbee?!”

“Rusty,” I admitted. “Wanna play catch while I set you up with a character and we wait for the others?”

“The only character needed is I!” Savage declared. “Yet still, I will cooperate! Please, elaborate! And don’t flinch!”

A sharpened steel ring came singing at me a moment later, thrown hard enough to take my head right off my shoulders. I slipped a finger into the hollow center before it could, let it spin twice, and released it right back at Savage.

“A self-insert character is actually ideal for this chronicle,” I said. “You’ll fit right in with the others, and it’ll make the transition more natural.”

Savage caught the chakram in his teeth without a drop of blood and violently shook his head. It came flying back at me. A minor cantrip caught the deadly frisbee in an air current around me. I spun with it and kept the game going.

“Spectacular!” Savage exclaimed. “Tell me what else I must know, and I will participate enthusiastically!”

“Just the basics, then. Going in blind is most of the fun. It is a World of Darkness-…”

IIIII

— Alice —

“No, you can’t freaking stalk ambulances for the chance to give people their death rites! That’s way too-! Ugh!”

She expected it of Lacoste, or even Voivode, but Sonya…? Her enthusiasm for Alice’s cause usually took more theoretical forms, not practical ones.

Writing scripture for the Concord? Sure, that was bound to be Sonya. Chasing ambulances like a dog? Why?!

“I see that we overstepped, Daughter Death,” Sonya said apologetically.

“It was still well-intentioned, at least,” Elaine pointed out. “If yes, ill-advised.”

“It’s soooo not a good look to have blood cultists chasing ambulances, Sonya,” Alice reprimanded her.

“How should we deliver death rites, then?” Sonya asked, genuinely just looking to help.

She wasn’t very mindful of optics, but her faith in the Concord couldn’t be questioned.

“Maybe wait for people to ask?” Alice said.

“But what if they cannot?!” Sonya exclaimed.

“Then it’s fine,” Alice stressed. “Mom will meet them on the other side with or without death rites. Seriously, I get that you’re just trying to do something. I can praise that much.”

Sonya preened at the praise. It was still odd to Alice, having an older woman looking up to her and hanging on her every word. A worldly older woman, at that. Alice didn’t know if she could call Sonya ‘wise’, but she’d at least done quite a lot in her life. Mostly awful and bloody things… Still.

“But-!” Alice picked back up her chiding. “Think, dammit! How many of those ambulances weren’t even carrying people on the brink of death?! And how do you think you made the poor paramedics feel?!”

“Ah…” Sonya realized the flaws in her well-intentioned plan of action. “Should we be following funeral hearses, then? I feel like we’d be getting to them rather late, but I suppose it is better late than never…”

“That-!” Alice began.

Elaine gently cut her off. “It’s not a terrible alternative. Sure, the people within will have already passed on to Didi, but on the living side of things, they’ll still have loved ones who might find a bit of peace in death rites.”

“Don’t you need, like, qualifications or certifications or something to speak at a funeral?!” Alice hissed.

“Our qualifications come straight from your mother, Death Herself,” Sonya proudly declared.

Alice snapped back, “Mortal qualifications!”

“I will… I will look into the matter,” Sonya said.

“Eustace and his Court might be able to help,” Elaine helpfully suggested. “Maybe not directly, but they have connections everywhere in Gotham.”

Alice took a deep breath and let it out. She was thankful for Elaine — Mom, she was thankful. Without her ‘cousin’, she would’ve been dealing with the… enthusiasm all alone. And Elaine was just a bit more removed from the Concord, too, so she had been offering great and mostly impartial advice.

Alice still thought she should find a way to make Elaine a more official secondary prophet for the Concord one of these days. It wasn’t fair for all the eyes to turn on her when a Demiurgic Daughter was right beside a Deathly Daughter.

“Officiating funerals might honestly be a good business to get the Concord into,” Elaine said.

“It-!” Alice paused, thought, and shook her head. “You know, it actually might. And mostly harmless, too.”

“Grieving souls might ask for solutions from Death,” Sonya advised.

“We can’t blame them for asking. We’ll just have to tell them why it would be a terrible idea. No necromancy or anything else that might Cheat Mom,” Alice said sadly.

“Just so, Daughter Death,” Sonya bowed in approval and agreement. “I will have the Church stop our efforts for now. We shall look for a better way to deliver the proper rites to those who need them.”

The Concord’s Mistress of Blood went on her way to do just that. There would be another problem there before it settled, Alice knew. Eustace would ask for something in return for mortal certifications, or someone from the Church would get another hare-brained idea in their head. And then, Alice would have to deal with it.

“Didi-dammit, I need a break…” She sighed.

As if summoned by her request, an illusory icon appeared in the air before her. It was a skull drinking from a martini glass, the whole thing animated by some eager and surprisingly young magic that felt familiar in the same way a call to come home did.

Alice and Elaine both jumped, not expecting the light show. She didn’t recognize the logo itself, but Alice could guess what it meant.

“Huh,” Elaine muttered. “Did the Dead End always have a logo that I didn’t know about?”

“No, that’s new,” Alice replied. “No idea what it’s about-…”

“Hark!” The voice of home called out, interrupting her. “Thou art formally summoned unto trials of Gamenight within these hallowed walls!”

It wasn’t Dad’s voice, Alice noted, and she hadn’t ever heard it before. But… something still made it as familiar as… well, the Dead End.

“Right… Dad has mentioned the Genius Loci of the bar before,” Alice realized.

“Wait-!” She exclaimed a moment later as the actual message caught up to her. “Gamenight?!”

“Gamenight?” Elaine asked.

“We’re so freakin’ back, baby!” Alice whooped.

“Gamenight?” Elaine asked again, prompting an explanation.

“Oh! Dad put on this thing a little while back,” Alice gushed. “He roped the whole Dead End crew into playing a TTRPG campaign in one of his previous lives. It was awesome! I’ve been waiting for session two!”

“I guess you’ve got your break, then,” Elaine said, sighing. “I’d ask to join you, but honestly, I should check in on my own dad. Make sure he’s not working himself to Didi, and all.”

“I’m sure Dad would let you join if you asked,” Alice added.

Elaine waved her off. “No, no, it’s fine. Maybe another time.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I guess I’ll see you later-… Shit,” Alice started saying her goodbyes before realizing something. “Who’s gonna watch the Concord?”

Elaine’s eyes twinkled teasingly. “No one, and you’ll certainly have to clean up after them when you get back. But fun first; work after you get the break you need.”

“Hnn…” Alice grumbled. “No, you’re right. Responsibilities can come after Gamenight. I’m sure our idiot followers won’t get into too much trouble…”

As soon as she said it, she knew she was tempting Uncle Destiny. But that was Future Alice’s problem.

… Future Alice would hate her. Too bad. Present Alice wanted nothing more than to resume her chronicle as ‘Alice the Damnation’ in a World of Darkness.

IIIII

— Grundy —

“-And thus… Slaughter Swamp, the terrible nexus… played an important role… in all of Gotham’s history… From the earliest days of founding… to the present,” Grundy ground out.

His speech was habitually slow. Each phrase was carefully considered. Every word mattered.

The rest of the room was filled with observers — all academics. Grundy was surprised how many had come to participate in his guest lecture. Gotham University had welcomed him in good faith.

Something slow rumbled in his chest. Not quite a beat, never again. But still, he was stirred by the care and consideration he was being given.

He was a monster, a Rogue, infamous in Gotham and even beyond. Yet here, he was not treated as one. He was just a man with something worthwhile to say, to teach, for he’d lived much of the history he lectured about. It was a great honor.

“Any… questions…?” Grundy asked the room.

A dozen hands shot up immediately, and Grundy… smiled.

There was a future here, he thought, for a monster of the past.

He called upon the first raised hand, readily answering a question about the Native American legends around the terrible nexus from which he’d risen to unlife.

He spoke at length, carefully considered, and the minds in the room listened just as carefully, just as considerately.

The questions continued to come. Grundy answered them all to the best of his ability. When he didn’t know something — a reassuringly rare occasion — he said so frankly, and others around the room put in with their own expertise. He learned almost as much as he taught. Grundy was not alone.

He was not alone in general anymore. The Dead End had offered him a home, a place to let himself actually settle, and fertile ground to grow beyond his monstrous unlife. Death Herself had accepted him, even his abhorrent nature. Sean, her Hand and Reincarnation in his own right, had encouraged him to pursue passions that had lain undead for so long, to live again.

It’d taken prompting, but Grundy had embraced the chance they gave him. He mused instead of raging. He… put himself out there, and he hadn’t been left to rot when he did.

The Q&A section of his guest lecture lasted longer than the lecture itself. Grundy savored every moment, every exchange of minds done in good faith and without fear.

When it was finally, unfortunately, over, a professor stayed behind to speak to him.

“I had my doubts about the university offering this opportunity to you, Mr. Grundy,” He said frankly.

Grundy nodded. He understood.

The professor smiled. “But now, I am glad to see them all proven wrong. That was productive and wonderfully civil! Tell me, are you looking to pursue higher education? Even if you are not, I would be happy to have your expertise on some of my local digs!”

“I would… not be opposed…” Grundy said, smiling softly.

Laughter greeted his agreement. “Splendid! Here, take my card! I’ll certainly be in touch-!”

The professor handed Grundy his card, but as he did, a show of light appeared between them in front of Grundy. It solidified into a logo — skull and glass — that could only come from one place. The magical message that followed confirmed the summons.

“Apologies… It seems that… duty calls,” Grundy said, amused and eager for Gamenight to continue.

As he turned to leave and heed the Dead End’s summons, he heard the professor mutter behind his back.

“What an odd Bat Signal…”

IIIII

— Harley —

“It’s the middle of the day, Harley,” The Bat growled.

“Yeah?! Well, we’re busy at night these days, Batsy! We’ve gotta get our fun when we can!” Harley shot back.

“There’s nothing illegal about cleaning up a park in broad daylight, Batman,” Ivy added.

“… There are children riding your ‘cleaners’, Ivy,” The Bat deadpanned.

“And they’re having fun! Fun! Ya know it, Batsy?!” Harley snapped back in Ivy’s defense.

The Bat, of course, didn’t rise to her obvious bait. He swung his solemn gaze over the park around them. Ivy had animated the old oaks within, the kinds that children already loved to climb all over, to act as a super sort of landscaping team.

The little ones were having the time of their lives. Harley already knew they’d never forget today.

Instead of acting as static foundations for childish adventures, their favorite perches were up and about and taking them along for the ride! Kids scrambled up the carefully striding roots and into the swaying branches. A bold pair had picked up loose sticks and were sword-fighting like the fate of the world was at stake. In their innocent imaginations, it was; the animated tree was a noble Ent ally, an airship high in the sky, a swaying bridge over certain death!

All the while, Ivy had the old oaks doing good work, too. Overgrown vegetation was being pruned and replanted. Trash was broken down into fertilizer by reaching blades of grass, no matter how undegradable. 

Even the Bat could see they weren’t doing any harm here.

“You’re adorable at noon, ya know that?” Harley asked, half taunting, half genuinely praising.

“All black, all broody, but the sun is shining, and the sky is blue.” Ivy nodded along, joining in with smirking amusement.

“As out of place as a bat on the Fourth of July!”

“It’s good for him. He desperately needs more vitamin D.”

“Not too much. We don’t want Batsy burnin’ up!”

“I could bring over some shade if it would make you feel more comfortable.”

“Ain’t that a mental picture! Batsy-Batsy lying back under a tree, just enjoying the weather!”

“Oh, how that would set people talking.”

“Bring the whole Bat-Fam! It’ll be a picnic!”

They went back and forth right in front of Batsy’s stoic mask. He acted like he was ignoring them to keep an eye on Ivy’s tree-babies, but Harley suspected he really was just enjoying the rare chance for sun. He looked more relaxed than usual. But then, maybe that was because he didn’t have to worry about them actually starting something.

“You’re just here for the principle of the thing, aren’t you?” Harley asked.

The Bat didn’t answer that, but he did turn back to her. “I can find nothing objectionable in the way you spend your daylight hours.”

“I think I can for you,” Ivy snarked back. “You, Batman, should be getting some sleep. Do I need to call your kids?”

“… A hammock would be welcome,” Batsy said.

Harley gasped dramatically. “You got through to him, Red! The miracles, they never cease, nay!”

“At least he won’t keep his unnecessary vigil standing upright,” Ivy drawled.

“Your knees and back and neck and whole thing,” Harley said, waving at all of Batman. “Must hate you, my guy.”

“We are not on speaking terms, no.”

Harley made a show of gaping at his joke. Then, she giggled. She cackled. She leaned on Ivy to keep herself standing.

The Bat was funny. Hilarious, really. Rarely, but that rarity just made him hit harder when he did slip a quip.

As she lost the battle against laughing gravity, Harley fell into Ivy’s arms. Ivy caught her with rolled eyes. Then, between them, a little light show appeared.

“Huh. I didn’t know Sean had a logo made for the Dead End,” Ivy remarked.

The message came a moment later, the Dead End itself shouting across spacey-timey-magicky-whatever-y. Harley sprang back to her feet the moment she heard it.

“Gamenight: Round 2?! Red, Red! We get to share a braincell again!”

“I get to hold it, and you get to borrow it, you mean?” Ivy deadpanned.

“Yeah!” Harley happily exclaimed. “C’mon, the Dead End calls! Leave Batsy to watch over the park kiddies and your babies from his hammock!”

“The trees will root themselves again when they’re done,” Ivy told the Bat, all responsible and stuff. “They won’t give you any trouble.”

The Bat nodded. “I’ll make sure they don’t.”

“And here, something to make your body stop hating you so much.” Ivy waved.

Two saplings with a vine-woven hammock between them sprang up with her wave. The Bat, hilariously, glared gravely at the comfort, even as he climbed into it.

Harley took a mental picture (and a literal one, sneakily) of the scene. Then, she knelt, scooped Ivy onto her back in the ‘piggying’ style, and whooped.

“Gamenight awaits!”

IIIII

— Ophis —

“[Query: There?]”

“… No.”

“[Query: There?]”

“… No.”

“[Query: There?]”

“… No.”

It was a futile search, Ophis knew. She wouldn’t find any other napping spot as good as Sean’s Silence. Still, it was something to do, and she didn’t have to ‘do’ much while doing it with a decently comfortable pseudo-angel throne carrying her around the ‘verse.

Really, the quest for a ‘Second-Best Napping Spot’ was Simmy’s doing. She wanted to explore. Ophis… obliged her. It cost her nothing; she could still doze along the way.

“[Query: There?]”

“… No. That planet is alive. Loud. Too willful.”

Simmy’s song hummed with interest. It was loud… but not too loud. Ophis didn’t mind. Mostly.

She buzzed around the lively planet a little while longer. It noticed them, reaching out with green tendrils. Ophis slapped them back with a glance.

“… Rude.”

“[Apologies. Tentative Offer: Another Time?]”

Stunned, the planet seemed to give a nod. Simmy waved back at it, happily humming that there were no hard feelings on her behalf. Ophis just turned her head away from it.

“Hmph.”

Their search, half-hearted on Ophis’ side and whole-hearted on Simmy’s, of the unknown was interrupted by familiarity — home, filled with Sean’s Silence.

“Hark!”

“Loud.” Ophis cut the voice off and dialed it down.

Sheepishly, it tried again, “Hark…?”

“Better.”

“[Query: Hark?]”

Home delivered its message, a reason to come back. Gamenight… Ophis would rather sleep. But if she couldn’t, she supposed playing in Sean’s Silence was not the worst alternative.

Simmy, in contrast, dinged and buzzed and sang with excitement. “[Activity! Past Experience: Enjoyable! Curiosity Revived! Roleplaying: Agreement!]”

“Hn. I suppose…”

IIIII

— Gabriel —

“A line that trends down and down into malicious oblivion; it hasn’t changed,” Lucifer scoffed in disgust. “I was expecting nothing, yet still, I am disappointed.”

Despite his tone, Gabriel could sense regret hidden beneath. Regret for what his hands had created at his lowest point and regret for how it’d only grown worse from there.

Below them, the Hell of this Creation played out in all of its damnation.

She hadn’t wanted to see it, but she felt she needed to, anyway. The Hell of this Creation had played an essential role in creating the Lucifer she now hovered beside, the Lucifer she actually liked.

So she went to him, with Didi, and asked to see what he’d abandoned. It took some convincing, but in the end, he obliged her.

They hovered over Hell, set apart from the damnation below. None of them wished to participate — not Didi, Gabriel, and certainly not Lucifer. The best part about coming to observe Hell was that it was only temporary.

Still, Gabriel was seeing and learning much here.

It was different from the Hell Gabriel was used to. That Hell was a layer of the wider Underworld, a realm that stood entirely on its own. This Hell was more intrinsically tied to the mortal world — influenced by mortal interpretations and playing horrific host to mortal souls.

It wasn’t biblically accurate. Not on the wider whole, at least. She did see a fair few lakes of fire, and Hell was surrounded by a void of outer darkness — as put to words in the bible — but the rest looked to have been shaped heavily by the ideas of men.

There were layers to Hell — Circles on a more conceptual level than the simple geographical distinctions that she was used to. There was fire and brimstone. And there were damned souls — oh, the damned souls…

As much as Gabriel wouldn’t have wanted to live in her Hell, it wasn’t technically an afterlife, an eternity.

That wasn’t the case here. This Hell was very much a place of damnation, where doomed souls would suffer for their sins in life. Gabriel frowned. She found she didn’t much like it that way.

She didn’t think her Father would, either. Even the worst souls, in her Creation, were only ‘punished’ with stays in Purgatory before their soulstuff was recycled into the System of Heaven. There’d been no eternal damnation; Father maintained a cycle instead.

“This…” She said softly. “This is a mess, Lucifer.”

“Isn’t it just?” Lucifer drawled. “Trust me, you don’t know the half of it.”

“It’s far from my favorite eternity,” Didi agreed, nodding her head regretfully.

“Why even…?” Gabriel began to ask, searching for the words. “Why, Lucifer? Just why?”

“I’d been cast out of Heaven,” Lucifer said, explaining more than defending himself. “I was angry. I was spiteful. I was looking to do… something, anything to buck Father’s yoke. All I succeeded in doing was aiding and abetting this damned portion of His plan.

“Hell was here before I arrived, but I was certainly the one who made it what it is today, what it will be forevermore… Souls came, damned by Father, and I did the only thing I could: I lashed out, and I experimented, looking for any scrap of purpose in my exile.

“The first man I met, I tore apart and staked. The First Torture of Hell. The second, I placed them in a loop of memories and regrets. And so on, so forth, until I grew bored. But by then, it was too late to go back. The Fallen who had followed me in exile… well, they followed my lead. And thus, Hell became a twisted eternity.”

“It could’ve been so much more,” Didi said.

“It could have?” Gabriel asked.

Didi nodded. “There were no definitions to Hell when Lucifer arrived, only the Presence’s plans for it. Lucifer, in his haste to rebel, ended up falling in perfectly with those plans. Any order he could’ve created and called his own with pride was cut off at the knees.”

“I can still imagine it,” Lucifer mourned aloud. “A kingdom to rival Heaven, forged for and from those who didn’t fit Father’s vision of Creation. If only I could’ve… gotten over myself.”

“What of demons, then?” Gabriel asked. “Were they your creation, or were they a mere consequence? Could they have developed differently, too?”

“Some of the Fallen who followed me were already too twisted to have become anything else, but some… Some might’ve been saved,” Lucifer said.

“At the very least, a different Hell could’ve prevented the most damned mortal souls from joining the demonic ranks as they did and still do,” Didi added.

“Aye,” Lucifer sighed. “Instead, I let my followers corrupt themselves. Hell, I led them in that corruption. And more, I saw the corrupting trend and added to it by breathing life into twisted new beings that knew only Hell. Now, the processes I set in stone are self-sustaining. The highest demons of Hell are my former followers, but the masses originate from mortal souls or my own creation.”

Gabriel frowned in disapproval. “… Not cool, Lucifer. So very not cool.”

Lucifer flinched. It was a minute thing, barely noticeable, but her words clearly held weight with him. That weight tempered Gabriel’s disapproval. Her Lucifer would’ve shrugged off her worst scorn like droplets of rain. This Lucifer knew regret and agreed with her scorn. He’d changed since the lowest point in his existence that he freely described to her.

“It took me much too long, and it wasn’t for that reason, but I realized the flaws in my creation eventually,” Lucifer shared. “Early on, I saw how I’d slotted so perfectly into Father’s plan despite my best efforts, but still, I persisted. Sunk-cost, and all; I thought just a bit more rebellion would shatter His lingering influence over me.

“It never did, of course. That didn’t come until I grew bored of the world I’d created. Hell is, despite all its appearances, a dreadfully static place. It’s… chaining. Only when I cast it off could I be truly free.”

He scoffed at himself. “In the end, even abandoning Hell and all I’d built was selfish.”

“Perhaps,” Gabriel nodded. “But it was what you needed.”

“He claims it was purely selfish, but his abandonment of Hell bettered more than just himself,” Didi said. “Without it, Michael would be lost, after all, and Elaine, too. Without it, Hell might even be able to push its twisted eternity in a way I certainly wouldn’t approve of.”

Lucifer barked a laugh, “If I can do one thing right, it seems it would be giving up.”

Even hovering over his worst creation, Gabriel didn’t like that statement from Lucifer. She frowned fiercely, rounding on him.

“No. No! I’ve been here for only a few weeks, and I’ve already seen that you can do more right than ‘giving up’! You still have all the potential He gave you, Lucifer, even after straying for so long! You’ve reconciled with your brother, you watch over your niece, and you live now!”

“You are more, Lucifer,” Gabriel stressed. “You-!”

Unfortunately, her encouragement was cut off by a distant call and a small logo that appeared before her and Didi.

Gabriel ignored the interruption for just a moment, even if she didn’t say anything more, to stare Lucifer down and make sure her words got through his stubborn, rebellious, self-deprecating skull.

Lucifer, uncharacteristically for a Demiurgic Archangel, looked back at her like a stunned and lost puppy. His eyes were wide and vulnerable. But he heard the words Gabriel had made dang-sure he would!

“I-…” Lucifer sighed and chuckled to himself. “Thank you, Gabriel. You’re a better sister, however distant, than I deserve.”

Good. Gabriel nodded to herself and to Lucifer. Now, what was that interruption about…? She turned to the logo, call, and Didi.

“Hark!” It declared.

“Oh, that’s just adorable,” Didi cooed.

“Gamenight…?” Gabriel cocked her head for a moment before realizing what the Dead End was summoning them for. “Oh, Gamenight! Caine helped me make a character!”

Didi smiled. “I can hardly wait to see what he’s cooked up for us this session. Shall we, Gabriel?”

Gabriel stuck one hand on her hip and raised the other to the void of Hell. “We shall! Unto that World of Darkness! Oh, this will be fun~!”

IIIII

— Sean Caine —

Hecate was the first of the Dead Enders to arrive back at the bar for Gamenight.

“How’s Olympus?” I asked.

She smirked darkly. “No more, effectively, thanks to your punishments. Only Hestia truly bears the title of Olympian anymore. Hilarious, considering how she’d abstained from it before. Doubly hilarious, since it was always hers by right as Kronos’ firstborn.

“She’s holding her Home together, though, as you might expect. Her siblings, nephews, and nieces — minus Zeus, thankfully — have been grounded for the foreseeable future.”

“She really is the best of them,” I chuckled and shook my head fondly. “And the others who I didn’t directly punish?”

“Hades and Persephone prefer the Underworld, as usual, but I did see them visiting Hestia’s Olympus. Dionysus seems to have gone on a ‘mortal-ish’ pilgrimage, looking to visit every place in the world where drinks are shared. Demeter didn’t want to be one-upped by her nephew and declared the same for all things cake. Aphrodite and Hephaestus are taking a similar vacation, just the two of them,” Hecate recounted.

“Good to hear they’re adapting.” I nodded. “Where’s Starheart?”

“Hestia offered to babysit her while we play tonight.”

“She’s in the best of hands, then. Maybe she can join in for future sessions?”

“I’m sure she would love the chance.”

The others came pouring in soon after. Harley carried Ivy in a piggyback, skipping despite the burden. Alice eagerly rushed in and hugged me for the chance at another Gamenight. Ophis tore space into temporary Silence, and Simmy carried her through into the bar. Grundy came in without any dramatics, just peace and anticipation.

Then Gabriel and Didi came back from their visit to Hell, rising from a portal of distant hellfire and tortured screams.

“Euck!” Gabriel shook off the icky feeling of Hell. “Even just an hour makes it linger! I bet Lucifer felt like a whole new man when he first stepped into the mortal world!”

“I think we’re ready, Sean,” Didi said. “Shall we get back into your World of Darkness?”

I cleared my throat, making an unspoken request. The Dead End obliged by clearing out a table in its center for us to gather and play around. Of course, we would only start there… But that was a surprise my Dead Enders would discover soon enough.

“Firstly,” I said as we all sat. “I need to introduce two new players to our chronicle — Gabriel and Savage. Their characters will be mages just like yours.”

“Sean has walked me through the process!” Savage declared, pounding a heavy hand on the table. “I. AM. READY!”

Gabriel, adorably, was vibrating in her seat. Her wings were fluttering excitedly behind her. Reaching deep into her cleavage, she pulled out the character sheet we’d made together.

“This is Gabriel!” She introduced the table to her character. “Caine said a ‘self-insert’ was fine, but she’s not, like, just me! How fun! I can’t wait for her to meet all of your characters!”

“Gabriel, the character,” I said. “Is new to going her own way, but determined to push forward, always. Her concept is that of an ‘Unseasoned Idealist’, and her nature is that of a ‘Stumbling Hero’s Journey’.

“She’s the sheltered daughter of a faithful hunter of the supernatural, prepared all her life to eventually take his place and lead the fight against the world’s darkness. Unfortunately, one of her father’s hunts went very, very wrong, and Gabriel awakened to her potential as a mage during the carnage. The Technocracy swooped her up fresh from her awakening. She will not fit well into their mold.”

“Welcome to the chronicle, Gabriel,” Didi said, speaking to the character as much as she was speaking to Gabriel herself.

“We will be… glad to… have you with us…” Grundy rumbled.

“Does being the daughter of a hunter give her background advantages?” Hecate asked.

Gabriel was glowing at how quickly the table accepted her. Literally. Her excitement leaked out in happy Holy Light.

“It does!” She answered Hecate’s question. “She knows bits and pieces about the dark side of the world!”

“Much of it may be misinterpretations or just outright wrong,” I warned and clarified. “She knows what her father taught her, and he did his best, but there is always more to the World of Darkness than the surface reveals.”

“Oh, she also has True Faith! 2 dots!” Gabriel added.

“Yeah, that tracks,” Harley snorted. “Can you share what that actually means, Gothboy?”

“Conviction Manifest,” I said gravely, drawing in my audience. “The steadfast belief in something; it doesn’t actually matter what. That conviction allows for… varied miracles, especially when directed against the supernatural, from burning vampires to preventing a werewolf from shifting. What all is possible with True Faith is something for Gabriel to figure out herself.”

“It was expensive!” Gabriel happily chimed. “I have high hopes!”

“[Query: Spheres? Attributes? Abilities?]” Simmy asked.

“Gabriel?” I prompted Gabriel to share those aspects for herself.

The words practically fell out of her mouth; her excitement to join and play was rising with every second.

“Prime and Mind! Her paradigm is the Divine Will of Man: ‘Will is what God gave us; exercise it.’ She’s more Social and Mental than Physical, and she has a variety of skills from being raised as a hunter! And-! And she knows how to make things go boom!”

Ophis nodded in complete understanding. “Boom.”

Harley nodded as well, in solemn sympathy. “Boom.”

I turned to the other new character at the table. “And then, there’s Savage.”

He immediately took over his own introduction. “The Sagely Savage of Man and Beast and GOD!”

“Savage, for short,” I deadpanned.

“I can’t even call him dramatic; he’s really just like that,” Alice groaned.

“Always!” Savage laughed. “My character seeks to EXPERIENCE EVERYTHING, for only through experience can he manifest his paradigm of APPLIED ENLIGHTENMENT, yes! He wields his own avatar well: the Sword That Cuts!

“He was a corporate executive and broker before his awakening: a drug-and-profit-fueled bender that saw him confronted by the truth of the world. Experiencing everything all at once, he encountered a sage, an elder vampire, a trek through dreams, a mummy most chill, a pack of werewolf philosophers, and an agent who recruited him into this Technocracy! He made enemies! He learned how little he’d learned, how little he’d lived! Now, he intends to rectify that!”

Ivy shook her head. “A corpo, but an enlightened one, at least.”

“An avatar that he wields himself?” Hecate asked curiously.

“The rest of your mages have avatars, too. Savage’s is just a bit extra because he chose the background option to enhance it,” I explained. “You’re all still newly awakened, but your avatars should start making themselves known soon enough.”

A notable air of excitement went around the table at that reassurance. Avatars meant magic, more than the first session of the chronicle.

Adding to the excitement, I began to recap that first session.

“Seven awakenings at once is no small happening. Something more is always bound to come of it. As you all attempted to find your feet, you found yourselves called to the ‘Gate’ Mall.”

“Ah, yes. The mall that all of us were introduced to by different names,” Didi remembered.

“Curious, wasn’t it?” I teased. “Yet the ‘Gate’ remained. It called. And you all couldn’t help but heed that call. You explored, searching for the source. Eventually, with the ‘Gate’ seemingly conspiring to bring you all together, you found something more going on in the labyrinthine backhalls of the mall.

“An official-looking operation was set up there — scientists and professionals researching the ‘Gate’ phenomenon. You were captured and brought before the woman running the operation — one Mrs. Johnson. Her mission there was derailed by your appearances and what they revealed about the seven-fold ‘Gate’, but she adapted, retreating to regroup.

“Part of that regrouping… directly concerns all of you. You were taken by Mrs. Johnson. She knows what you are, Awakened. She knows your incalculable value, and she intends to use you for purposes greater than you yet understand.

“That’s where we left off: the seven of you in mysterious hands. Two more will join you there. And then, all of you will be put to work. The Technocracy is in the business of defining reality. And it doesn’t do that by leaving assets on the table…”

Almost as one, my Dead Enders leaned forward, more than ready to resume their chronicle. I wasn’t, not yet. There was one more thing that needed to be said and done.

I smirked. “And now, the twist.”

“Twist…?” Grundy asked.

“Twist-!” Alice said the word like a curse.

“Your characters are all essentially self-inserts,” I explained. “So, how would you all like to be inserted into them yourselves? For the duration of this session, you will be your characters. It’s a good thing they’re already you, isn’t it?”

“Twist!” Alice exclaimed, the word now a blessing to her.

“I am IN!” Savage declared. “Throw me into the fray; I shall play the role! Let me EXPERIENCE EVERYTHING, truly!”

“[Interest! Investment! Immersion! Imagination+!]” Simmy sang.

“I would like to try my hand at this brand of magic,” Hecate considered aloud. “Yes, this could be fascinatingly educational, and enjoyable as well.”

Didi smiled. “I think it’s a wonderful way for you to stretch your Aspecting legs, Sean.”

“Can you do that, Gothboy?” Harley asked.

“Temporarily, sure.” I nodded. “Just a little Reincarnation to live our chronicle, and then you’ll come back to yourselves before the night is done here. I’ll be the narrating voice in your ears the whole time, but this, I assure you…

“Will be your World of Darkness.”

With their agreement, I wrapped the table in a line of power, holding tightly to each of them. Didi blushed as I did.

“Oh, Sean, warn a girl…”

“Mm,” Ophis hummed happily. “… Silence.”

“Best-! Gamenight-!” Gabriel’s wings fluttered and her shout Dopplered through Reincarnation as I cast all of them ‘back’ into their own World of Darkness. “EEVVEEEEERRRRR~!”

IIIII

[AN: I’m excited for this one. WoD is one of my favorite settings, and it can get properly weird and so, so much fun. I have this session’s plotline planned out now. It should bring the gang into contact with mages (duh), technocrats (also duh), werewolves, changlings/fae, spirits, and probably a whole lot of ‘Clown World’ shenanigans by acting as a sort of Suicide Squad for an SCP-coded division of the Technocracy. If you don’t know WoD, Bruva Alfabusa (of 40k Text-To-Speech and Hunter: the Parenting fame) has a great intro video on it (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0h1U-_JFAS8).

I should also probably link the first session of Gamenight, just for simplicity’s sake. It was chapters 80-81 of Gotham’s Dead End Bar, here (https://www.patreon.com/dryskies_btb/posts/gothams-dead-end-134574612?collection=569222)(https://www.patreon.com/dryskies_btb/posts/gothams-dead-end-134942418?collection=569222)

Stay tuned. This should be a ride :]