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 [plurk.com profile] 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).
Eimhir listens to the news and grimly departs to report to the Queen. Sariel and Luka also get ready to depart—Sariel with Valencia by his side, returning to report to Raphael; and Luka to Hell, although Elli is staying behind. However, for now—they accompany the rest to the small Inn near the train station in Kinbrace, where they left Maon, in the wee hours of the morning.

—there is quite the commotion going on outside the front doors.

(If you're . . . not interest in engaging with that, you can always grab a bite to eat or find a room of your own to rest—it seems someone's bought up all the available rooms, and there's a tab open in the pub.)

[BACKTHREADING UNTIL WHENEVER, feel free to placeholder and we will pick up through the week so everybody can get to everybody!]
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.
The Procession is this upcoming night. Although the party rescued themselves, Valencia, and everyone else in one prison, they have confirmation that there were other prisons, with other people to rescue. Malamhìn, the Leannan Sìth with Naha, confirms that the Procession is to be in a place called Naver Forest, which the previously-kidnapped can confirm they also overheard in a snippet of conversation. Naver Forest is considerably north of Inverness (a good three hours by car; ScotRail has a stop in an excrutiatingly tiny farming village relatively nearby, and it's a half hour walk from there, so that's your best bet). It's certainly, extremely isolated in the Highlands.

Still, it should be fairly simple, unless there's anything people are overlooking. It shouldn't even be dangerous. People will pick a human in the procession and try to take them back. If they fail or flinch, that person will be lost; if they succeed, the person will be saved—but the one who tried to save him will not be harmed either way. Those are the rules.

Although, there is one little thing to get out of the way before arranging transport up there . . .
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—"
It's several hours by bus up to Inverness—luckily, Kano helpfully got coffee and McDonald's for everyone, and the scenery is quite beautiful. And of course, the WiFi works. Maon is literally crawling out of his seat by the end of the ride, alternating between half-hanging out the window and squirming all over Fon for attention, but somehow you all make it.

Some rooms have been booked at a motel near the outskirts of town for the day—so everyone can get some rest and some food, which is strongly encouraged, since it's likely to be an all-nighter.

And just as dusk begins to fall—everyone meets up again at the edge of the woods, where there's a pair of familiar strangers waiting.
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?"
Edmund, Naha, and Bakura find themselves in what looks like some kind of underground tunnel, surrounded by the partygoers. Many of them, rather than being the friends and companions they'd seem to be during the party, immediately begin to disperse with little apparent interest in each other. Those few who remain have weapons, and are very clearly escorting you somewhere. Of the ones you met, Ràild—no longer wearing his beak and vanishing his feathery cloak with a whirl—and Malamhìn continue to walk alongside you. Malamhìn is keeping quite close to Naha's side, actually, while Ràild walks somewhat in the lead.

They're met by a woman with golden hair piled on her head, wearing what looks like silver armor, bringing Seto from a side corridor. The procession stops briefly as Seto is quickly shoved in with the rest of the captives as the woman turns and eyes the group with a faintly troubled air.

"Ah? Malamhìn, you were tasked with capturing them, not making a relationship binding."
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.
Tcm azm gpypm pk Ptsdwplwv, ehvg,
Mow uhyf ql Ostevoltf,
Lpxu oqg tw, ebu em, bm qm ppdt,
Yvj exsd Q moavd fw utf.

Game Times
Friday November 14th - 5PST to 9PST
Saturday November 15th - 1PST to 4PST & 6PST to 9PST
Sunday November 16th - 1PST to 6PST

Signups
Please comment below to sign up with—
  • the character you're playing
  • your email address
  • any times you are NOT available

As always, it's fine if you can't make every/all of the time (though more than half is recommended)—we just need to know in advance to plan around it!

And of course, we have an IRC chan (#deadgaysatanists) and a Plurk ([plurk.com profile] demonverse) so please follow, friend, and lurk as you prefer ♥



PS: If you're new to this, the website should tell you what you need to know!