Chapter 1: Hell Stranding
Disclaimer: We do not own any form of recognizable content. We only own what we have made ourselves. This is a crack-fic and is not meant to be taken seriously. Eleven of us have collaborated together to produce this. Enjoy.
Humanity has a skewed perception of their own considerations. Hell, for instance, was a realm that was almost universally described as a dimension wreathed in hellfire and composed with the choir of countless infernal symphonies performed by tortured souls.
However, in a stark contrast to the collective thoughts of humanity, you would not expect to see eleven people riding motorcycles - well, one sitting down in a sidecar - down one of the many highways to hell like they were in some second-rate cinematic action movie, all while they blasted Russian Doomer Music and cracked open cold ones like it was going out of style.
But here they were, barreling over the uncountable hordes of blasphemous demons with only their Harley's and some unopened soda cans.
At the front of the crowd of motorcycles, however, was a regular-looking bike whose bumper was slightly crusted with the crimson blood of demons. Sitting on the top of this bike was a blonde-haired man wearing a closed helmet - driving laws always matter, even in Hell - who was sipping a Pepsi. Sipping a Pepsi, with a closed helmet? What an absolute mad-lad.
"Fuck you, Coca-Cola. What makes you think I want to get high on cocaine when I'm trying to break into Hell?" The man uttered under his own breath, but loudly enough that the motorist next to him, Alien, could hear.
"A-men, brotha!" The brown-haired man cheered, going to down his Pepsi when his bike caught onto something. Looking down, he saw that he had crushed a small frog-like creature baked in the scorching sun of the underworld, who had also been looking at him with scorn and mouthing what seemed to be racial slurs. Ass.
Kicking the demon off his axel with his foot, he accelerated forwards into a horde of demons just as the man from earlier, Draedon, blurred.
Appearing behind a particularly tall demon, he kicked it in the neck and proceeded to repeat this process on the other demons with haste. His special ability, one he had obtained upon death, gave him the ability to teleport constantly while still conserving his momentum. In theory, as long as it was not detrimental to his health, he could get more powerful as his momentum increased.
It was only after a few short seconds of fighting that he teleported back into the seat of his motorcycle and went onwards with the rest of the eleven-man gang.
"Anyone know how close we are to the actual entrance? We've been at this for, what, an hour now? My feet might kill me before the demons do." Draedon asked.
"Dude, we're on a highway connecting Earth to fucking hell itself. What were you expecting? A convenient hour-long ride past fields of rainbows and sunflowers? It will probably be another-oh you have to be shitting me." Shand said.
Straight ahead was a monolithic archway with a large sign above it saying 'UNDERWORLD IMMIGRATION CONTROL' and a smaller sign underneath it labeled 'EXPECTED WAIT TIME - SIX TO EIGHT CENTURIES.'
"The real journey begins here, folks," said Aug, who was a taller asian man with glasses. "With long queues and sheaves of paperwork."
"Fuck." Draedon, Alien, and Shand all summed it up perfectly with only a single word.
~[o0o]~
Parking their motorcycles in the parking lot, the eleven souls start grabbing the equipment latched onto their bikes before taking the opportunity to relax for a few minutes. Once they were done, they entered the immigration center.
"So, do any of you all have any degree of input as to what is going on here? Cause, I'm pretty sure I was not in Hell yesterday." Ralts spoke abruptly. Everyone stopped in their tracks and pondered on what the actual fuck was going on.
"I...have no clue." Draven said.
"Same." Draedon asserted.
"I'm just as lost as you are." Shand replied.
Ralts sighed. "Okay, but can we like, possibly slow down a bit here and ask ourselves why we can suddenly throw fireballs around and teleport?"
"Okay, well, what's the last thing that everyone remembers before coming here?" Shand asks the interim party.
"I have been dodging trucks for the past week, encountering them in increasingly ridiculous scenarios, until I finally got hit by one the moment I stepped out of my apartment. On the eighth floor, no less." Aug explains in an utter monotone.
…
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"
"I have been dodging trucks for the past-"
"No, no, that was rhetorical. Ah, nevermind." Ralts huffed.
Draedon sighed. "Okay, guess it's my turn." He says while leaning back on the wall as Aug and Ralts stopped to listen. "So, last thing I remember is that I was walking down this sidewalk in North Carolina. The next, I've got a big ass chunk of metal bisecting me. I woke up here not long after that happened."
The surrounding party winced, including Draedon himself.
"I was just listening to some music before...well, it felt like I had heartburn or something like that." Salante stated. "I appeared here not too long after that happened. I blame the Russian Doom Metal I was listening to at that time."
"Alright, me next." Alien said. Dusting his hands, he stated quite simply, "I choked on a spider."
"Wait, that's it? No heart attacks or getting ran over by trucks on the eighth floor?" Cletus asked.
"Yup. That's it. Big spider hopped in my mouth and bit me as it went down. It hurt like a bitch." He gagged slightly as Cletus simply stared back at him, dumbfounded at his insane manner of expiration. It may not have been as crazy as Aug's, but it was still unique.
Ralts stepped forwards. "I was just sleeping. I don't really know how I got here, but I just want to go back to sleep."
"I feel ya, man." Draedon replied.
"I got burnt to a crisp." Quinn supplied. "Please don't ask why."
The party respected his wishes and moved on to the last five members who had yet to explain their final moments in detail.
"I was eating pussy, and she clamped my head in between her thighs. Except she didn't let go and I choked to death." Draven says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
"Well, now we know for sure who got some 'fore passing on." joked Alien in an attempt to defuse the situation a bit.
"I think 'Death By Snu Snu' is more appropriate here." Draedon cracked. The surrounding members all chuckled in response to both their jokes.
"And how did you die?" Quinn asked Sloth.
"I fell asleep in court and got sent to death row."
"Guess that nickname of yours fits then." Cletus chuckled.
Shand sighed before saying, "I got mauled by a bear."
"Harsh." Draedon stage-whispered.
"I was just eating a sandwich before bed and woke up here. Not sure what happened to me but I do remember the bread tasting kinda funny." Cletus stated.
"I think I'm the last one, so I'll make this one as quick as I can." Null said. "I've got no clue what happened to me. I was just jacking it earlier. Damn, apparently forty-two was really the limit." He shook his head.
"...you're telling me you died from whacking it too hard?" Draedon smiled.
"Uh, perhaps?"
"Snrrk." He chortled as he heard a crash made from Draven doubling over in laughter, holding his stomach as he rolled along the ashy ground.
"You...you died from fapping? Pftt-hahaha!"
Alien stared straight at Null. "Dude, you need to teach me your technique," he said with not even an ounce of humor lacing his tone.
"Teach us, please." Draedon cried out in laughter.
Null, meanwhile, was looking away from the group, even if he could not stop grinning just from the sheer absurdity of his death.
It was only after a few minutes of intense laughter that they all finally calmed down and proceeded onwards. Just as they stepped through the door though, Shand held up an arm. "Hold up," he whispered to the group.
The others exchanged looks of confusion between themselves before Cletus decided to ask. "What is it?"
Shand answered by pointing to their two o'clock. "Do you guys recognize her?"
A few shook their heads, but the rest couldn't believe their eyes. Right in front of their eyes, in all her glory, was Pandemonica, one of Hell's customer service representatives.
"Is...Is that who I think it is.?" Draedon broke the staunch silence with his question.
"Hell's sleepiest and most sadistic customer service agent? Yes, that's exactly who you think it is." Draven says with a smile, a look of desire in his eyes. "Which means the best demon Waifu is out there." He pointed to the door that Pandemonica was next to.
"Sweet, dibs on Justice," Salante didn't even hesitate to make the first move.
"I'm taking Lucifer, and none of you cucks can stop me. Not even the guy who died masturbating." A cry of indignation was heard from behind them in response to Draedon's statement.
Alien scoffed. "Take whoever you want, so long as you don't touch my Fly-Mommy."
Sloth stared at him in disbelief. "I totally would have argued there, but you calling her 'Fly Mommy' instantly ruined her for me. Forever. Judgement."
Draven simply raised his face to the ceiling and screamed, the dubstep yell sounding oddly similar to the word 'CERBERUS' as the ceiling cracked where the sound waves hit. Thankfully, the screams were masked by what looked to be a lost soul yelling to Pandemonica. She appeared unfazed.
"I'm not really interested in any of the Helltaker girls honestly," Cletus admits with a shrug of his shoulders. "They just aren't my thing, especially since there are probably better options around."
"Speak for yourself, Cletus. I'm sneaking into Hell so I can get Lucifer. You better wish me luck." Draedon said.
"Whatever floats your boat, fam." Cletus responds with a roll of his eyes.
Draven looks towards the door, scratching his chin. "Think there's any way for us to get through there without dealing with all this immigration bullshit?"
Cletus, being the autistic little shit that he is, couldn't help himself from saying something incredibly stupid.
"Life, uh...finds a way?"
"In case you haven't noticed pal, we aren't exactly alive anymore. Dumbass." Draven snarks back with no real bite to his words.
"I'm still wondering how I basically got telefragged in real-life…" Draedon mumbles under his breath. He recollects himself and says to the squad, "Okay, we need a plan to get past Pandemonica. Among all of us, who is the greatest bullshit artist and-or most socially competent?"
While everyone is looking at each other, Alien raises his hands up in mock surrender. "Don't look at me. I'm the strategy guy, not the people guy."
Draven wiggles his hand around as he says, "I can bullshit with the best of them, just fucking bad with social shit."
"That might extend to most of us, actually." Draedon promptly realizes.
"Roll for the scapegoat, then?" Salante was all too ready to throw someone under the metaphorical bus to save his own hide.
"I got the dice." Cletus says as he pulls a hand-sized container full of dice out of his pocket.
"Why the fuck do you have dice in your pocket?" Draedon asks him.
"Cause I forgot to grab them from my last D&D session and had to go pick them back up again?" Cletus says.
"I never really understood why people got so crazy over D&D. I'll have to play it at some point if I ever return to Earth or if Hell has what I need for it. Hopefully."
"Eh, I can DM no problem. Got used to it." Alien shrugs.
"I guess people just have their own hobbies. Cletus, can you roll?" Draedon asks as he silently prays for it to not be him.
"Sure, but we need to decide on everyone's number first don't we?" Cletus responds back with a smirk.
"I'll be number one, then." Draedon decides.
After a few minutes of deciding which number each person should choose, the dice was finally set. Cletus flipped the die into the air and it landed on-
"A seven?" Shand said out loud as everybody looked towards the one who had been chosen by the die.
"What?" Sloth recoiled.
"Guess you're the distraction then." Salante pushed Sloth past the alcove they had hidden inside of and formed a wall with Alien and Ralts to make sure he couldn't get back inside.
Sloth grumbled but still strode forwards towards the desk with a smooth charismatic mien in his step, a hallmark of his natural personality lighting his way.
Salante and Alien exchanged a look. "Think he'll survive?" Asked Sal.
"We're already dead, not much to lose."
"True, I suppose. At least he's got his charisma going for him." Salante said.
"Guys," piped up Ralts. "Get a load of this."
They all turned to look at the reception, where they immediately noticed a light dusting of pink on Pandemonica's face as Sloth smooth-talked her. A shove from behind returned the three of them to reality, courtesy of Draedon.
"Come on, let's go!" He urged.
"Damn, he's smooth," noted Aug as they all slinked out of their hidey-hole and past the check-in.
~[o0o]~
Just outside of the immigration building, everyone stopped in unison as a thought passed through their minds.
"And Sloth?"
Thankfully they didn't have to wonder for too long, as Sloth walked out behind them with a confident swagger, and waved a small piece of paper clutched in his fingers. His facial expression told a different story entirely.
"I'll be honest. I have no idea how that worked, and how I got away with her number." He seemed entirely unsure how that went down the way it did, but he wasn't complaining.
"Well, I suppose that means Sloth is gonna get Pandemonica then." Draedon said. "Anyways, we need to continue forwards. Any idea on where to go now? I don't have a single clue about this city."
"Maybe we just wander around? That's as good an idea as any." Shand supplied as Draedon shrugged.
"Guess it's settled then." Alien stated as he looked out over the city they had found themselves in. "We each head our separate ways and try to make a path to our waifus."
"I'm...not so sure about that," Cletus admits while fidgeting and looking around nervously. "I for one don't handle unfamiliar environments well, especially not on my own."
"Then how about we go together? Maybe two to a team or more?" Null suggests.
Draven says, "I don't really care either way. It makes no difference to me."
"Very well, teaming up it is." Sloth says.
"Hmm, I'll have to see what kind of girls I manage to run into. I haven't fully set in stone who I actually want to pursue." Cletus says off-handedly. "I've kinda been busy you know, getting mentally adjusted to the fact that I am unironically in a pop-fiction version of Hell."
"I'm going for Cerberus!" Draven announced proudly.
"...which one?" Draedon casually asks Draven.
"Yes." Draven deadpans, doing his best impression of a retarded fish high on meth and on the hardest of liquors.
"All of them, then." Draedon disregards his answer and turns to the rest of the group. "Now, we need to put everybody into teams. Who's going with who?"
It took a few minutes of disorganized chatter to get everybody into place, but it was done without any real rush on their part. They still had time, after all.
The ultimate team turnouts led to Null, Draedon, Salante, Aug, and Quinn going off on their own, while Cletus, Draven, Alien, Sloth, and Shand took another way. They all agreed to reconvene at their starting spot about an hour later for safety reasons, and everyone went off with their respective team.
~[o0o]~
While Sloth walked with a calm gait and Cletus followed along mesmerized by Hell's cragged architecture, Shand and Alien had to run around to keep Draven from causing any more structural damage to the city.
"Cerberus is on the third circle you fuckwad!" Groaned Alien as he held back Draven from running off.
In response, Draven squirmed some more. "I KNOW!" He yelled, forcing Shand to duck to avoid getting his head blasted to smithereens. "That's where I'm going! Now let me gooOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"Draven, please," Shand sighed. "You'll just get lost out here. We have all the time in Hell to do what we want, we'll get to Cerberus too, just have some patience for fuck's sake."
Cletus, meanwhile, ignored what everyone else was doing and simply gazed upon the monolithic spires of twisting glass and steel, the skyscrapers of the first circle of hell looming menacingly in the distance.
"This is certainly not what I expected out of Hell's architecture, where's all the gothic imagery? All the edgy shit like spikes and skulls? All this modernist crap is literally just as soulless-looking as anything on Earth." He mumbled to himself. "Which begs the question of which came first, Earth in Hell or Hell on Earth?"
He was so deep in his own musings that he didn't notice Sloth coming up from behind until he started speaking. "I don't know, and really I'm not gonna bother coming up with an answer. We have more important stuff to deal with, for example-" he gestured to his clothes, which were just a bright orange jumpsuit "-clothes. And not just me." He began to count on his fingers. "Quinn's clothes are charred, Alien and is running around in his PJs, Shand's clothes are torn up, Ralts and Draven are only in their boxers! We need to fix ourselves up...getting some weapons might be a good idea too." He added as an afterthought.
Cletus slowly nodded, taking in his companion's situations- he had to do a double-take. Did Draven seriously knee Alien in the family jewels?
"That's what you fucking get!" Yelled Draven, face red with anger, his veins threatening to burst open before his nuts do.
Cletus and Sloth quickly ran over to them, the former checking on Alien while the latter helped Shand restrain the furious Draven.
"Just what has gotten into you, man?" Sloth grunted as he struggled to keep hold of Draven's arm.
Draven continues to strain himself against their hold, letting out the occasional shout of aggression. "I'm killing you first, you fucking cunt!"
A few feet away, Cletus tried to help Alien stand up, though without much success. The latter looked up at the threat. "Dude, what's your problem? I just said Cerberus might be too much for you alone, for fuck's sake."
Draven looked feral and a snarl crosses his face, "Cerberus is fucking mine, you think I can't handle her, you'll fucking see. I'll have her on her knees begging for more before you fucking even get a glimpse of your 'Fly Mummy'."
Alien gave a mix between a groan and a chuckle. "Don't doubt it. Like, how am I even going to get into the Abyss?" He finally managed to stand up on his own, though Cletus was still standing nearby just in case. "And you can keep your doggos, enjoy the heart attacks."
Just as Draven was about to lay into Alien again, Shand placed himself between the two. "Enough already!" He quickly slapped both of them upside the head. "While you guys are here trying to kill each other, Hell is getting ready to kill all of us again. Now apologize, children."
Draven only glared back.
Alien took a step forward. "I suppose I did start this whole thing, so I'll go first. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to imply what came out, I didn't even mean it in a sexual manner."
Draven quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"I'm serious. It's still a three versus one. Even if you can handle them romantically, they are still Cerberus, the guardian of hell. Who says they won't be hostile? And then what? It's still a needless danger, one that you were about to run into blindly."
They were both quiet for a moment. A huff from Draven broke the stalemate. "Sure, fine, whatever you say. Guess I'm sorry too about kneeing you in the dick or whatever." He looked away, shaking his head. "I can handle them," he grumbled under his breath.
~[o0o]~
On the opposite side of the First Circle was the other group that had split off from the main party. Striding together with a relaxed amble, the faces and visages of Draedon, Null, Quinn, Salante, and Aug analyzed the surrounding area for any landmarks that could point them to their next destination.
"Is it just me, or you all having this nagging feeling of forgetting something as well? Not sure why, but I don't think we've forgotten anything important. Well, important enough that I'd only get a slight feeling." Draedon asked the rest of the band.
"Murphy is going to get you for that one, Drae." Quinn chided him.
Draedon huffed. "Maybe, but isn't it better to at least have that feeling? Means you lost something useful and are going to need it." He clarified.
"Who says it's important?" Quinn quirked his brow.
"Oh, I don't know, how about my intuition?" Draedon sarcastically snarked.
"Intuition? You sure you got that?" Quinn inquired.
"Come on, are you not feeling it as well? We've lost something, I'm sure of it." Draedon reassured everyone of his thoughts.
"Yeah sure, whatever you say, mate." Quinn said offhandedly.
The gang continued onwards, not straying too much on the slight banter between Quinn and Draedon. Eventually, they reached a small establishment. More specifically, a diner.
"You all in the mood for some grub?" Null piped up.
"We don't have any money." Draedon said blandly. "Unless they don't take money or something, but capitalism seems to infect everything, even Hell."
"What are you, fourteen?" Null snarked in a slightly condescending tone
"No, just sounds like something Cletus would say." Draedon shrugged.
Quinn sighed. After some deliberation, it was decided that they would enter the restaurant, if not to grab some food to eat than to ask around for information.
Grabbing hold of the doorknob and pulling it towards him, Salante entered the diner, which surprisingly did not have ash lining the counters or seats.
Once they had sat down at the clean table, Null spoke first.
"So, can we finally talk about what's going on? I've got, like, a few hundred questions to ask all of you."
"I've been thinking the same thing, to be completely honest." Quinn spoke up. "Anyone got any ideas on what's happening?"
"The first thought that came to my mind a few hours ago was 'isekai power fantasy,' but I'm not sure how applicable that term is now." Draedon groaned. "Well, besides the unfortunate side-effect of us somehow getting thrown into Hell, this place does seem pretty nice at first glance. That is, when you remove all the demon zombies and stuff. It's just a hellscape now, no pun intended."
"How did we get into Hell anyways?" Salante asked rhetorically. However, Null indirectly responded to his question with yet another question.
"Do you think that we should be here?"
The group sat in silence for another minute before Draedon said, "No," He sighed. "I'm not exactly a religious guy. In fact, I'd consider myself agnostic, but this experience just sorta broke my brain for a few minutes when I first got here."
The rest of the party remained in silence until Salante broke it.
"Actually, I've been wondering what's going on with these powers we've gained." Salante flexed his fist as he morphed into...a panda?
"What." Said Null and Draedon flatly.
Salante blinks his now panda-fied eyes and turns back into a human. "I...don't think I was expecting that. It was almost...instinctual. Anyways, you get the point. Weird powers, we're in Hell, something has to be going on here."
"I've already experimented with my 'ability' a little bit. I can teleport." Draedon states proudly before he winces. "Sort of hurts if I do it too much though. And yeah, something is definitely fishy here."
Null spoke up. "I haven't had a chance to use what I think my power is, but I'm pretty confident in my assumption. Does anyone have some sort of power that creates something, like making fire or something like that?"
"I guess you could try it on Salante." Draedon suggests. "I'm sure he'll be fine."
"It's as good an idea as any." Salante shrugs before shapeshifting into a panda. Null focused on Salante for a few seconds before activating his power. Salante began to rapidly morph back into a human from his panda form.
"Guess that explains it." Aug commented dryly. "Nullification. Fitting."
Null sighed. "That's what I thought too...at least it's good?"
"I suppose." Draedon said. "Alright, Aug, you're next." Aug perked up a bit but still maintained an impassive expression. He told Null and Salante to use their powers again while Aug tapped a finger against Null. Once Null activated his Nullification ability, Salante's transformation took noticeably less time than before.
"Amplification." Aug stated. "I can amplify the powers of everyone else within a set range."
"Does this apply to everyone in that range or just a single person?" Salante asked.
"Only a single person can be amped at a time. My current range appears to be around fifteen meters."
Draedon hummed. "Okay, Quinn, you're next; and I suppose you're last as well." He turned his head over to Quinn. Quinn merely turned over to the empty seat next to Draedon and dashed forwards in a blast of white light. He consequently smacked his face hard on the seat and slid down to the floor.
"..." Draedon was speechless. It wasn't long before everyone at the table - sans Aug, who had merely smiled - burst out laughing. Once everyone had stopped laughing at Quinn's inexplicable failure, Quinn began to explain what he thought his power was.
"I'm pretty sure I can just turn into motes of light...I guess it's good.." Quinn briefly explains.
"Does that mean you can move at the speed of light? If I exclude your failed stunt, that is." Draedon inquired curiously, and with a hint of sarcasm.
"I don't know."
Draedon sighed. "Right, well, is there anything else?" He asked the group. Everyone at the table had denied any more questions, but their peaceful silence wouldn't be there for much longer, as one of the chefs had come up to their table.
"Oi, can I get you lost souls anything?" The red-skinned man drawled to the table.
After a few seconds of deliberation on what to say, Aug stated, "No. We were just leaving."
The leathery demon shouted at them, "Well then, get out, ye ungrateful customers!" The party promptly vacated their seats and exited the establishment.
"That's Hell's Kitchen alright. What the hell passes for currency around here anyways?" Draedon mumbled. "At least the tables were clean."
Null grumbled. "Would've liked some food. Let's just keep exploring, We've got around forty-five minutes before we have to head back anyway."
The five-man group nodded in agreement.
~[o0o]~
"I…have some doubts on this," muttered Alien. "I mean, I get that we don't have much of a choice, but do we need to do it in broad daylight?"
All he got was blank looks from everyone.
"Fam, have you tried looking up lately?" Cletus asks as politely as he can.
Turning his gaze skyward, Alien saw a ceiling of reddish stone. He looked down to the others again, confused.
"Time of day is kind of a meaningless concept in a place where it can't be determined through traditional methods like the positioning of celestial objects," explained Cletus with a sigh.
"Huh."
Everyone shared an exasperated look and proceeded to brainstorm a plan to gather enough clothes for everyone, mainly due to most of the party dying in a less than presentable way. They'd already spotted a clothes shop, but they'd quickly realized that they had no money to buy said clothes with. Therefore, they had to rely on good old-fashioned stealing.
"Hey Sloth," began Draven, distinctly calmer than before. "Think you're up for running distraction again?"
A groan came from him, but he nodded nonetheless. "Fine. I'll keep the owner distracted, you guys sneak in and steal some stuff. Just don't take too long."
As Sloth approached the shop, the others followed a short distance away. He pushed the door open, a bell's jingle ringing out from above his head. From the shop's back, someone called out.
"Just a moment dearie, I'll be right with you!"
Sloth looked around, noticing the fortunate lack of any other clients in the store. After quickly gesturing for everyone to sneak inside, he let the door close and made his way closer to where the voice had come from.
The entrance to the shop's back was quite larger than any other Sloth had seen before. That couldn't be a good sign, he assumed. Either the store's owner was something bigger than a human, or there were enough large-sized denizens in Hell to warrant bigger doors and passages. Now that he thought about it, the front door to the shop was also larger than normal, though he hadn't paid any mind to it at the moment.
He was jolted out of his thoughts as the sound of several pairs of steps approached. It wasn't normal steps, they were more similar to heels - and even that wasn't quite right. It was a much heavier sound than that.
The curtain separating the front and back of the shop parted revealing a humanoid body on top of eight chitinous legs and a very large abdomen: a spider-human hybrid - no, she had horns. A spider-demon hybrid. An Arachne, perhaps? It was as good a name as any, Sloth supposed.
With a deep breath, he put on a confident facade.
Meanwhile, Cletus, Alien, and Shand were piling up as many clothes as they could reasonably bring with themselves, while Draven kept a hard watch for any observers.
"I really hope this is like some kind of hell-equivalent of a chain store, cause I might just feel guilty otherwise." Cletus whispers while grabbing a robe from one of the hangers.
"If it ain't, we can just come back when we have the money and pay her back," Alien reassured him while folding a pair of pants on top of his pile. He was interrupted by Shand elbowing his side.
"We don't have the time to be so precise! Just throw it on the pile and keep-" he was interrupted as well by Draven.
"Guys move it, they're coming this way!" He frantically whispered, gesturing behind himself.
Everyone looked like deers caught by a car's headlights once they processed the news, and in a panic, they picked up everything they could. They scurried towards the door, Draven hanging back to keep an eye out. Just as Sloth and the store's owner rounded the aisle, he jumped through the clothes and out of sight.
A flash of movement caught the owner's attention. "Huh?" She muttered, looking over to where she was sure something had moved. The only thing out of the norm was a few clothes swaying.
"Must've been the wind," she muttered, turning her attention back to Sloth. The young human was such a charming gentleman~
"That was way too close." Cletus says once all four of them are safely outside, everyone else giving their own form of agreement.
A scant few minutes later, everyone had changed. Some clothes were a bit baggy or tight, but it was better than nothing.
"I'm actually surprised they even had some military surplus in that store." Cletus says as he adjusts his Soviet army cap. "Not really all that sure about this robe though, I might have misjudged its size a bit but it's still comfy regardless."
"At least you're happy," groaned Alien as he pulled at his hoodie's neck. "I mean, look at this thing." He motioned at his hoodie's front, the words 'Bad Bitch' scrawled on it. It was also a size smaller than he would've liked.
Shand huffed. "Really, we should be glad to have this much at least. When you have the money you can go and be picky, but for now, this will do just fine." He slipped a beanie over his head and peeked out of the alley. "Still no signs of Sloth though. We might have to go back."
Just as he finished speaking, they heard yelling coming from the shop. The door opened abruptly, and Sloth came barreling out, followed by a shout of "And don't you dare show your face again!"
With the group finally reunited, and Sloth looking like a semi-normal person again, Alien had to ask.
"What happened back there? You looked like you were doing fine."
Sloth sighed. "Well, at first I flirted with her a bit, and she took it a bit too seriously. Once she started offering to show me to her place, I had to let her down. As you heard, she didn't take it well," he finished shaking his head.
Alien gave him a pat on the back, followed by an awkward chuckle. "Well, you got out of there safely, so I guess this was a success." He looked at the others. "Should we go back to the others?"
A round of nods followed, and they were on their way.
~[o0o]~
After the two groups had finished their exploration of the First Circle of Hell, Limbo, they all reconvened at the place where they exited the immigration center.
"I guess we know who we were missing then," Draedon says blandly as he stared at Ralts, who was sleeping on a bench with Pandemonica lying next to him. "Of course it's Ralts. It's always Ralts." He shook his head.
"Still though," began Null. "I have a question." Once everyone - sans Ralts - turned to him, he continued. "What now?"
Draedon tapped his chin in thought. "Good question. Best I can think of is to get used to our powers before getting into as much trouble as possible." He gained a wicked grin on his face after he stated this.
"And gather the waifus?" Piped up Draven.
"And gather the waifus." He affirmed.
Alien's AN: Well then. I haven't updated a thing in…a while. Then this idea came while I was hanging out with a bunch of friends over at The Dark Wolf Shiro's discord server, and this thing came out. I'm going to be posting this on Questionable Questing, while Jarl Draven will post on AO3 and Draedon will post on FanFiction. There's not going to be any significant changes to the stories, but by all means, go on and check out their stories: they're great.
Draven AN: So this is...something. Basically, the guys that are almost always in the music chat for Shiro's discord decided to get together and make this monstrosity. And I have no fucking clue what is going on. I, Jarl Draven, will be posting on AO3, while my friends Alien-kun and Draedon will be posting on QQ and FFN respectively. I have no fucking clue where this came from so don't ask.
Draedon's AN: This might as well be Hell. Literally from a literary standpoint and from a cracky standpoint. It wasn't hard to write, not at all, but it was fun to mess with and I did enjoy making it. Thanks for reading this chapter, but know that this fic is not meant to be taken seriously at all. This is just eleven people on the Discord Server fucking around with plot bunnies.
Cletus's AN: To be honest, most of the work I did on the first chapter of…whatever this project of ours ultimately ends up being, was on adjusting existing dialogue that my co-authors had written to be more in line with how I would likely respond in the given situation. For the most part, I'm just here to be along for the ride and will most certainly be enjoying said ride the whole way through.
Augentism's AN: Although I'm responsible for a couple of the gag's, the majority of the work was not done by me. I'm here mostly to try and inject some ideas from other verses that the primary authors may not be familiar with. Completely honest, I'm not really sure how I ended up here. I hadn't really interacted with much of the crew up until they decided to start this fic. This is actually my first time trying writing of any form that will actually get posted, since every other time I write I end up cringing on the reread and just deleting everything.
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Character Bios:
Name: Draven
Nationality: Angry Northerner (Scottish)
Height and Weight: Shrug
Horny Level: Incalculable
Power: [Scream]
The aptly named Scream allows Draven to scream loud enough to shatter almost any known material given enough time. Instead of being a regular scream, however, it sounds like Dubstep music.
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Name: Draedon
Nationality: American
Height and Weight: 179cm, 134 lbs.
Horny Level: Not much.
Power: [Spatial Teleportation]
Spatial Teleportation grants the ability to teleport rapidly within a 15-meter radius around the user with a very faint corona of electric blue static surrounding them. The user also conserves their momentum, allowing for faster and stronger strikes during combat when applied continuously. However, using the power too rapidly can cause internal bleeding, hemorrhaging, and organ displacement.
---
Name: Augentism
Nationality: Chinese American
Height and Weight: 174cm, 58kg -- ~5'8, ~128 lbs
Horny Level: Ehh, not really
Power: [Amplification]
Ability to double something about a target whether it be their resilience or even just general power, Aug can only use amplification once on a target within 15m for now.
That's it. The next chapter will be out whenever.
-Draedon, Cletus, Alien, Shand, Draven, Sloth, Ralts, Quinn, Null, Salante, and Augentism.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
-- Power
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