Baal-Berith escorts the lot of you, quite swishingly, out of the courtroom. "Alright, alright!" he claps his hands together. "I think that went pretty well, don't you? ♫" He hooks his hands behind his back, spinning on one heel. "Eheh, though I'm sure it'd be lovely to talk a little more, your time is about to expire, you know. ♥ So we should probably get you all home!"

You have a few minutes, if you need to, to try to get in a couple last words, either to Baal-Berith, Tristan, etc. Otherwise, Baal-Berith is shooing you all towards the door.
You begin to hear the sound of a bell tolling. It is quite insistent—quiet at first, then gradually getting louder. Depending on where you are, you'll notice that only those involved in the case are able to hear the bell: it seems to be within your head. You feel a draw back to the Embassy—a gentle tug at first, then a pull.

Your footsteps guide you to an open, cavernous hall in the middle of the Embassy, atop a large, fanned set of stairs. There are others beginning to gather here already.
Some of you are discussing serious lawyering with the most serious lawyer. Others are reuniting with old friends, or meeting new ones(?) . . . and some of you are just flat-out riding bad decision dinosaur trains.

The adventure continues. ♥
The building is enormous and ornate, with high windows and strange, awful things carved into every available surface—tormented faces winding their way up giant pillars, for example.

Baal-Berith leads one group of people down a long hallway, towards, he claims, his office.

The rest are led by the slendercommittee down a long flight of stairs, through a winding labyrinth, then into a small common room, off of which there are several bedrooms.

From there, you are left to your own devices.
When last we left our intrepid heroes, you had just met a fancy lawyer and were about to be marched off by the slendercommittee to who knows where.

"What's all this about extras?" Baal-Berith had been saying. "Oh hey, I heard our guests were arriving, so I thought I'd come check things out personally! ♫ . . . ohhh gosh, did they really dispatch the Loopholes to pick everyone up? That's terrible! That's really, really terrible. I think I'm going to have to really look into that when I get back to the office. Don't you think? Don't you think, guys? It's almost like someone is attempting some itsy-bitsy bit of sabotage, though I couldn't possibly have predicted something like that would happen! Ha ha!"

As one, the black-suited demons seem to tense up, turning around and bowing stiffly.

The newcomer waves cheerfully. "Hi! I'm Baal-Berith. I'll be defending you in the Grand Court of Law~ soooo, welcome to Hell, or something. ♥"
You come around to the sound of gently sloshing water lapping at the sides of a boat—? The shore? It's hard to place, but the rhythmic splash, clap is telling. Aside from that, the air is dreadfully, heavily silent, your own breaths barely audible, almost stifled. When you open your eyes, it's dark—at first (sorry, Itachi). If you let your vision adjust, you'll soon slowly be able to make out the shapes going on around you.

Dozens, hundreds of narrow boats, gliding forward through inky black waters, pointed at the prow, and manned by thin figures holding long oars and looking straight ahead. It's hard to make out the faces of those in boats opposite yours: hazy, obscure suggestions of companionship obscured by a fog that . . . isn't. You can see the procession of boats hundreds of feet in either direction, but seeing the faces of passengers in the other boats—? Impossible.

The sky up above is dark and starless, but not completely black; instead, it seems cloudy, and a dark grayish-red; dully lit by the reflection of lights from what may or may not be a city, far up ahead. That must be where you're headed. Otherwise, you get the feeling you might just drift on the water endlessly.

As for the water itself? . . . didn't you ever read any books? Watch any movies? Don't look. More importantly, don't touch.
You find yourself, quite abruptly, in a large, dark room lit by flickering candles. There are a little over a dozen others with you: most of them quite familiar. You find it hard to breathe for a moment; then, when your breath returns, sound starts to filter in slowly as well. You hear voices:

". . . sure this is going to work, David? I know you said they've been writing you letters—which is really creepy by the way, but you can't trust them, you know—"

"They said they needed witnesses and all that, Lucia. What reason do they have to lie, at this point? If they didn't like doing things by the book, we'd be in a lot more trouble than we're already in."

"Hmph! I know that, but I'm just saying, waiting for—them to draw people over . . . I could do it!"

"And get yourself in way more trouble in the process—look—"

[welcome to the game ♥ we've been expecting you~ please make sure you join #deadgaysatanists, and sacrifice something in hopes that LJ stays functioning for us!]


Ars Goetia

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