an admirable history

After successfully talking Zan into waking up—the world around you starts to dissolve and break apart. There's a lurch, like the sensation of abruptly falling into sleep, but backwards; and all around you, the glass begins to crack apart, splintering and sending ocean water splashing everywhere, gushing forward, a cascade of blue and black, alternating between starfish and actual stars, suspended in liquid sky.

. . . reality seems to bleed in overtop of it and, sluggishly, you find yourselves waking up all over a suburban basement in New Jersey. There is a lamp on near the bed, where someone is still asleep, though fitfully beginning to wake up.

More noticeably, there is a woman sitting up in bed with him, arms wrapped around her bare knees as she watches them with amusement, extremely beautiful and . . . extremely familiar.

"Wow." One hand drops to Zan's hair. "I don't even know where to start with you guys."

[There is a sudden lurch, like something has reached inside of you, grabbed your 'self,' and pulled it forward sharply. Blue lights spin in the corner of your vision, like the whole world is suddenly outlined in pulsing blue neon, energy crackling along the edges of the world, holding it together. When the sickening sense of disorientation fades, you find yourself in a place that seems very unlike a suburban house in New Jersey—]

[The 'door' behind you has vanished, replaced with a brick wall splattered with bloody graffiti that spells out—

DON'T DEAD
OPEN INSIDE
[The hallway in front of you is twisted, and the girl that greeted you has vanished, nowhere to be seen.]

Luckily, it's not altogether unusual for a group of people to be walking around outside at around 3AM on New Year's Eve—maybe the one night in the year where you can get away with it without turning too many heads.

At the suggestion of Robin and some of the others, Una agrees that the group can split up—some people can stay behind in the church, some will stay outside/close by when they get to Zan's house, and the others will . . . well. Knock at someone's door at 3AM? Try to look in the windows? We're not sure yet.

[Pick your location]

Hello friends! I made Zazzle (and myself) a bunch of special Demonverse tea blends for Christmas from Design a Tea, and thought I'd share them with you for anyone who might want to order any. Unfortunately, unlike Adagio you can't order them directly, but you CAN fill out the elements to get the same teas.

I'll also give my label names and you can ask to use my labels by name. The label name I used is in bold, and if you want it to appear with the images I picked, you might need my real name - if you don't have it already, it's Zrerqvgu Xngm - use ROT-13 to decrypt. So, you know "Please use [real name]'s 'Dr. Filangieri: Deep Sleep' label!, and hope that works.)


Bastien: Mistakes are Made - Rum-Cinnamon Oolong
(Base: Oolong, Flavor 1: Rum, Flavor 2: Cinnamon, Herb: Cloves - whole)

Kit: Old Linen - Cinnamon-Plum Rooibos.
(Base: Rooibos, Flavor 1: Cinnamon, Flavor 2: Plum, Herb: no herb.)

Tristan: Humanist Interest - Cherry-Lemon Green
(Base: Green, Flavor 1: Cherry, Flavor 2: Lemon, Herb: Lemongrass)

Kieran: Divine Calling, Infernal Desires - Pumpkin-Vanilla Black
(Base: Black, Flavor 1: Pumpkin, Flavor 2: Vanilla, Herb: Cinnamon)

Elli: Witch Way - Strawberry-Caramel Black
(Base: Black, Flavor 1: Strawberry, Flavor 2: Caramel, Herb: Lavender)

Luka: Sweet Smoke - Blackberry-Caramel Oolong
(Base: Oolong, Flavor 1: Blackberry, Flavor 2: Caramel, Herb: no herb.)

Mr. Sidney: Butler, Please - Amaretto-Zabaglione Black
(Base: Black, Flavor 1: Amaretto, Flavor 2: Zabaglione, Herb: Rose petals)

Lucia: Don't Disobey - Mango-Ginger Green
(Base: Green, Flavor 1: Mango, Flavor 2: Ginger, Herb: No herb)

David: Deep Shadows - Mocha-Hazelnut Oolong
(Base: Oolong, Flavor 1: Mocha, Flavor 2: Hazelnut, Herb: Yerba mate)

Dr. Filangieri: Deep Sleep - Vanilla-Honey Rooibos
(Base: Roiboos, Flavor 1: Vanilla, Flavor 2: Honey, Herb: Chamomile)

Maon: An Coineachan - Apricot-Black Currant Rooibos
(Base: Rooibos, Flavor 1: Apricot, Flavor 2: Black Currant, Herb: Lavender)

Madison: Blind Eye - Orange-Cranberry Green
(Base: Green, Flavor 1: Cranberry, Flavor 2: Orange, Herb: Lemon Balm)

Hope people enjoy if they get -- based on samples I got before making up actual full blends, my personal favorite (Haru) is probably Luka's, which tastes, indeed, sweet and smoky, though Mr. Sidney's is certainly a (bizarrely fancy) treat!

(And if anyone has any questions on the blends or flavors or whatever let me know)

Thank you all again for playing ♥ WE HAD A LOT OF FUN DOING SOMETHING A LITTLE DIFFERENT and hope you did too 'u'

Our next game will PROBABLY be the weekend after Christmas though we understand that availability may vary due to holidays. If you know you 100% can't make it, please let us know, since if there's a lot of people we'll reschedule, but so much delicious time off.

Since the number of characters staying in Demonverse continues to climb, we may do some in-between plotting so just stay tuned for that, energy-dependent. And of course if you ever have a character that wants to move on in, we are cool with that. I'm sure Tristan will be happy to continue funding condos.

Remember you can hang out in #deadgaysatanists as much as you want, and it's a good idea to pin this community and follow us at demonverse.

As always—questions about characters or the plot? Comments? Memes? Requests? Anything goes! (We know we've introduced a lot of new stuff and revealed some older things, so please feel free to ask as much as you want and we may not have to be supercryptic possibly maybe).

While everybody else is confronting their inner demons to save humans from Hell and the Fae, Fon and Maon get their hotel date. Though it may not be exactly the way they'd originally intended.

A blast of wind suddenly rushes through the forest, leaves trembling. There is a moment of expectant silence, then—the sound of hooves and piercing horns echoing through the woods, rapidly growing in volume. The ground begins to tremble.

You hear voices—human? Possibly familiar? Amidst the sudden frantic rustling of leaves.

"Don't bring anything back with you!"

"Is that really our greatest concern right now!? Holy—"

Tsuyukusa finds himself in a forest late at night, somewhere approaching dawn. It's dark, and unfamiliar, and it's a good hour of wandering before he comes across anyone -- A black-haired, black-eyed, ruddy-skinned man dressed in jeans and a brown flannel shirt. He seems to have been out here a while himself, leaves and mud and twigs sticking to him.

"Hello there," he says, in a Scottish accent. "Lost, are you?"

One way or another—some combination of frantic phonecalls, psychic connections, and text-messaging pictures of trees, all those that weren't spirited away to who-knows-where meet up near the edge of a small park early in the morning—there were too many of them to fit in the doctor's office, Filangieri pointed out with a yawn. He declined to come along, but Sariel is definitely there in his stead.

So that's how the group finds itself—in time for some reunions or introductions, and, excuse me, what happened to you and who ate what?

As usual, the summoning itself begins with a sense of the world changing around you, a rush where up is down and down is up, and ends with finding yourself in the darkness.

Or, at least, the night. It is neither dark by any true sense, nor silent. Although you find yourselves in a clearing far out in the woods somewhere, lights are strung up all over the place, and energetic—if strangely discordant, perhaps warped by the combination of open space and trees—celtic-style dancing music is playing. If the changing colors on the leaves and the near-freezing temperature doesn't help you realize it's late October or early November, all the partygoers in costumes probably will.

Here dance a group of girls in matching green dresses, with identical red hooded masks completely covering their faces. There, near a long table covered in delicious looking food and alcoholic drinks, sits a man in a plague doctor mask, tipping it up just enough to drink his beer. A small child, waist height at most and grubby with leaves and mud, grabs a girl's hand and uses it to swing himself around with the dance.

The band are all wearing masks as well (when their instruments will allow for it) or face paint (when they won't). There are the traditional Halloween costumes as well—black dresses and hats and long noses for the witches, fancy formal wear and hair slicked back and fanged smiles, men and women with horns and fur plastered to them. There is a youth dressed as a soldier with a bloody hand; a woman covered in blue paint from skin to hair; someone who's either a bent old man or doing a really good job making himself look like one, though he moves smoothly; a handsome man with long brown hair wearing a bird's beak and a cloak made of feathers, backing away from a dance in progress, apparently ready for a break . . .

Whether you were summoned for this or it's some kind of accident, you appear to have arrived at a rather fantastic party.