Don't demons ever bathe?

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

~Lilah stumbles and nearly falls as she frets her way through the Dickensian city of Level 8. She's still a little sore from her (ahem) efforts to get away from the demon overseers, and the headache doesn't seem to be getting any better. She figures it must be the stench; it seems to follow her everywhere she goes. It's been a long time since she was this filthy, and it irks her that she can't seem to find anybody to accost and swap clothes. She longs for a good hot soak in a deep, foamy bathtub, a manicure, and... well...clothes from the 21st century.

Still, she thinks, things could be worse. She has gotten away from that sweatshop. She fully intends to take the matter of working conditions in that hellhole up with the Firm, as soon as she figures out where to file the paperwork.~

And you'd better believe I'm appealing this. What about that perpetuity clause? YOU CAN'T TREAT ME LIKE THIS! I'M LILAH MORGAN!

~She grimaces as her head pounds in tandem with her shouting. Hell, she remembers from her days in the office, is run by a city called Dis, somewhere in between levels 1 and 9. If she's going to find a municipal building, it will be in Dis. She sets her jaw and limps forward once more, muttering to herself~

What I wouldn't give for a shower. Or a hapless victim with great clothes. And shoes. I would KILL for some great shoes.

Comments

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*Barty marches through a particularly constricted back alley, the fumes are thicker then fog but he has protection from them in the form a rusting clothes pin, it's spiked, naturally, and has pierced Barty's nose to the point it's firmly embedded in frozen blood which never quite got the chance to gush, his voice is suitably nasally*

You needn't be such a woman about it, Regina, it's hardly my fault there was only one.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

Yes, well... *looks up at him over the bit of wet, grey cloth he keeps clutched to his nose* This handkerchief is hardly helping. In fact I think it's even more rancid than the air.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

How do you know it's a handkerchief? YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE IT'S BEEN. It could be the lining of an eldritch abomination's pantaloons.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

*slowly takes the cloth away from his face*

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

You could very well have demon syphilis on your face right now.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

*looks disgusted - which is helped by the new wave of smell hitting his nose without the blockade of whatever that cloth was - he flings it away to the side of the alley* Ugh.



Give me your clothes pin.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

I REFUSE. You were too slow. I got it first. That's only fair.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

You tripped me!

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

You're so bitter when you lose. And you're so often bitter.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

And you so rarely share.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

Share? Why I have spared you from a horrific torture. It's practically chopping off the centrepiece of my face.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

At least you don't have to smell without your nose. The air here is what I imagine would happen if you burned all of Seven and wafted it under your nose.

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*Barty looks suspiciously aloof for a man that's clamped his nose with spikes in a bid to escape the stench*

I've wafted worse.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

Oh please. It's disgusting, I can hardly stand to breathe - and I already had a stomach ache, this really doesn't help. Isn't there a non-disgusting way through this place?

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

Is there a non-disgusting way through anything? If we had a house we'd have to water the lawn with visceral fluids.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

You would be doing all the yard work, that's not even open for hypothetical debate.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

*Lilah has been watching the two ridiculous figures in front of her for some time, trying to decide whether or not they're worth her time. She's starting to feel pretty ill- the stench or something else? and she decides they might have something useful, even if it's only directions. She approaches and suddenly feels dizzy from the pulsing in her head, and vomits.*

Sorry, boys, not at the top of my form.

*She wipes her mouth with the bloody, filthy hem of her skirt.*

What's a couple of nice boys like you doing in a hellhole like this?

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

*Barty regards her vomit for a moment before replying*

I, MADAM, AM NEITHER A BOY NOR A NICE.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

*Regulus, alternatively, makes a point of Not Looking at the sick, but he's polite enough not to move away from it like he wants to*

He's not. And if you're implying there is somewhere that is less of a hellhole nearby, I would be quite surprised.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

You two don't look like you belong here, is all. I thought you might know how to get out of this city. I'm looking for Dis, heard of it?

*She moves a little closer, trying to determine whether either has any clothing she might be able to snag- the flimsy chemise isn't very warm and the damn whalebone corset hurts like... well, the obvious.*

And if you're not a boy

*she says to Barty*

Then you're a damn fine looking demon, and you DEFINITELY don't belong on this level, cause I haven't seen any demons around here that look quite so nice, or frozen for that matter.

Where are you from, Ophelia?

*to Regulus*

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

*Regulus' deadpan expression says that is not the first time he has been blessed with that nickname*

My name is Regulus Black, and Dis may stink less but I don't know why on earth you would want to go there. It's nothing if not the best place to get caught.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

I'm a modern girl, forget what I'm wearing; these aren't mine. This place isn't for me. I'm looking for a city of opportunity. You've been to Dis? Did you happen to see a library?

*Lilah has while talking been moving close enough to appraise Regulus's garb. If he's wearing a wizard's robe, she's thinking she could make that work for her; it'd be a hell of a lot warmer than Victorian underpinnings.*

Maybe you could take me there? Whaddya say boys, I'm a damsel in distress. Mayber there'd even be a reward in it for you when we're there...?

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

Well she does appreciate my adonishood, Regina.

*that having settled the matter for Barty, he pushes Reg out of the way, giving her a flourishing bow before extending a severely frostbitten hand* Barty Crouch, Jr. I like rewards.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

*Lilah accepts the (nasssty) proferred hand and shakes it- not a firm, business like grip she'd use for a client, but a soft, feminine, "helpless" grasp, suggesting she's a little more frail than she might look.*

Lilah Morgan. Barty? I like it. It's playful. Suggests a sense of fun. I like fun.

*nods her head at Regulus*

Who's your friend, Barty? He looks a little wet behind the ears.

*slyly*

You really look like you could use some fun. Whaddya say boys, show a girl a good time? Take me to Dis?

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

Barty, we can give her directions...

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

Don't mind Regina, he's not as susceptible to fun as we are.

You know we DO need to go back through Dis at some point - we fell down here quite by accident, you see. I suppose there's no harm.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

Well, that's perfect then. Lead on, boys. What are the chances of meeting real gentlemen in Hell?

*Lilah is desperately trying to disguise her nausea, but she's a little unsteady on her feet.*

Maybe one of you boys could give me a hand, too? I'm feeling a little lightheaded.

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

*Regulus is clearly reluctant about this entire affair, if something were to go wrong this would not be the first time Barty's inability to foresee trouble will have gotten them into a mess - but despite his unease, Regulus offers her a dripping arm to steady her, it's only right, he has always made a point to do the polite thing with women but really all his quiet and unknowing chauvinism is just based in fear*

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

*Lilah takes the proferred arm, only slightly reluctant at the soppiness of it. She is clearly uncomfortable and can't seem to stop talking, presumably to comfort herself with her own voice. She also stops several times along the way to retch, being careful to avoid soiling the boys- she wouldn't want to hurt her chances at acquiring some new clothes and guides.*

So tell me about yourselves, boys. You been here long? Feels like it's been forever, doesn't it? What did you do back in the living world? I'm a lawyer for an evil lawfirm- no joke. I'm still under contract.

*pause to vomit*

Excuse me. Are you boys wizards, by any chance? It's the clothes, you know. I've worked with wizards. Usually no nonsense kinda guys... Where are you from? England? I just adore a British accent.

*definite trace of wistfull*

[beautysleep4.livejournal.com]

*Beauty lifts her head and peers in the direction of the voices, a woman and two men. Perhaps she is hearing things now, the spasms that have been wracking her body leave her momentarily unfocused and disoriented. If there do happen to be people approaching however she would rather not been seen in this state. What would her prince think of her now? She has managed to make a short veil from the bottom of her kirtle so that between it and the circlet she can hide her lack of hair somewhat. Still she is far from presentable. Perhaps if she is quiet they will not notice her.*

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

My family is from London, Barty grew up in Brighton. However I don't think either of us have ever dealt with any lawfirms, of any moral denomination. I certainly haven't...

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

Well, I've never been to London, or Brighton, but I watch PBS from time to time.

[beautysleep4.livejournal.com]

*Beauty lies quietly, hoping everyone will pass her by,concentrating hard on breathing in, breathing out and working to not dwell on the fluids leaking from her nose as she does. She might think it a blessing not to smell the nauseating stench of both the city and the level of bodily decay except somehow as decimated as her nasal passages are they still seem to work sufficiently to take in every last odor. At least the fit has subsided and while she is spent from her body's uncontrollable thrashing for now it seems content to remain quietly seeping away into nothingness. She hears the voices coming closer, the woman's smooth and silky but with an undertone of something less polished. One of the men is rather quiet, his speech polite but his manner flitting between cringing and sarcastic. The other makes her instantly shrink inward, he reminds her of a hound her father's seneschal once had-mean spirited and more than slightly mad.

Beauty cannot begin to figure how long she has been in this nightmare. She has tried to remain patient and in the begining she even tried to help the people she met who seemed in such distress. Good deeds in this place however seem to be looked on with suspicion or taken and returned with malice. So now as the strange trio approach she works hard not to make a sound. She clenches her hands and to her dismay, her skin splits open in half a dozen places. She lets out a strangled cry before she can stop herself and immeadiately freezes in place praying that the trio just keeps walking.*

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

*Lilah turns from her (ahem) chivalrous escorts toward the source of the way too close for comfort cry of pain.*

What was that? Did you hear-?

*She stops herself, not wanting to draw attention with her own jumpy and louder than intended reaction. She gapes desperately at Barty and Reg, praying inwardly that they might look just a bit more delectable than she. She certainly doesn't feel like she should look delectable, lesions and orifices oozing, but she also knows from experience that demons in or out of Hell have very odd tastes. She takes two steps to place herself between Reg and Barty, taking each of their hands in hers.*

Ok, boys, time to play knight. I'll be the damsel in distress, and YOU get to kick the ass of whatever hellspawn made that noise, ok? There's good boys.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

*Lilah isn't certain these ratty little boys are really going to be worth much as defenders of her very precious (after? un-?) life, and running away is seeming more and more like an option. Then the source of the noise becomes apparent: it's a breathtakingly beautiful girl, yes- beautiful, in spite of the hideous sores and loss of hair, opulently dressed in a stunning medieval gown that looks a hell of a lot warmer than these Victorian underwear Lilah's sporting... in Lilah's experience, pretty young things are often gullible young things, and she could really use a new dress.

She approaches the girl, tossing a "wait right there" gesture at the boys. She flashes what she considers her most genuine smile and calls to the young lady.*

Hey, it's alright. You probably want to be quiet, or you might draw attention to yourself from someone far less friendly. What's your name, Sweetie? Let us help you. My boys and I are getting out of this city. Want to come along?

[beautysleep4.livejournal.com]

*She looks up startled and quickly draws her hands behind her to disguise the bleeding palms. Now that the rest of her skin has almost returned to normal they are once again a reminder of her time in The Mines. She gets quickly to her feet with a slight sway that mangaes to look somehow balletic.*

Thank you but I am certain I shall be quite fine. I have been here before. What level are you trying to find? Perhaps I could send you along the right path.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

Oh, well, you see those two sweet, darling little boys over there? They're sort of my escorts. We're headed to the capital city, on Level... shit, what is that? Five? Six? Whatever. Dis.

*scrutinizing Beauty's clothes and rapidly regrowing hair*

How long HAVE you been wandering this hellhole, anyway, Princess? I thought I looked quaint and old fashioned- *she gestures at her Victorian rags* and what the hell do you call those shoes?

[beautysleep4.livejournal.com]

Not shoes, slippers. I could not say exactly how long, it does seem ages but they do not keep a measure of hours here and you learn not to ask questions of just anyone. You learn not to speak to just anyone.

*She eyes Lilah warily*

The city of Dis is level six though why anyone would want to make their way to it is beyond my comprehension. You would do better to try level one or level-well I would suggest level one.

*She gives a gentle shake of her head and points in the general direction that will take them to level one.*

I would have your champions escort you in that direction and go quickly and quietly. I should away as well. Anon.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

Wait!- Not so hasty, there, sweetie! My champions are, well, they're... men, and if they really don't know the way God knows they won't ask for directions. You say you've been all over; we could really use you coming along. Look, none of us are demons and only that guy's *pointing at Barty* probably a murderer, being frozen and all...

*Lilah holds out her hand sweetly, very soft fingers for a demure sort of handshake.* I'm Lilah, sweetie, what's your name?

[beautysleep4.livejournal.com]

Beauty.

*She gives a sweeping step to the side so she can keep them all directly in front of her. It is a cardinal rule of this place that you should never turn your back on anyone for very long. Her sweet nature may have managed to remain intact but her trust has had the edges dulled a good deal. Her hands she keeps clasped behind her, as much from embarrassment at their appearance as distrust of the stranger before her.*

I fear my hands are in no condition to receive your greeting. As for your champion, it is my understanding that the ice realm is for betrayers of the highest distinction. So it is possible that he arranged a murder without inflicting any bodily injury himself, if that is a comfort. They seem poor sorts of champions to me but I suppose that is all you are likely to find in this place. I could travel with you as far as the edge of the sixth level. I cannot abide the city of Dis-the screams, the smell. Why it is far worse than *takes a delicate sniff* well far worse than you can imagine.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

Yeah, well, there's something I need from the scream-y, smelly city of Dis, ok, sister?

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

*from behind the two women Regulus' whisper carries* Barty... what is PBS?

[madlymirthful9.livejournal.com]

[wetandbothered5.livejournal.com]

What a horrible thing to stand by and watch.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

*Lilah turns back to include the boys.* Well, suit yourself, sister, but me and my boys are headed to Dis...

*She looks dubiously at them, trying to decide if they're as insane as they (Barty) appear(s).*

You can come along if you want, sweetie. I'm sure the boys won't mind.

[beautysleep4.livejournal.com]

As I said, I can accompany you to the edge of the sixth level, I have been this way before. I will not go into the city of Dis with you however. I have never met anyone who actually wanted to. You will certainly be warmer, *she says eyeing Barty's frostbitten skin and Lilah's thin shift.* But I warn you there is no one in the city who is not in an ill temper and the punishment for those who are caught is never mild.

[noshoesinhell8.livejournal.com]

Sounds like LA. Making me homesick, actually. Look, Prettygirl, you can come or not, me, the Frost King, and Mr. Drippy are headed to...

*She turns with a yelp as she hears the sound of a shrill whistle, the sort uttered by a demon bobby searching for deadbeat delinquents.*

Oh, shit, *she mutters. Time for some quick action, she thinks.