Weyland's Visit

[7twistedwishes]

On the other side of the door... Hell.

No, no fire and brimstone. A large room, half living room, half office, tastefully decorated and furnished. Thick carpet, a big couch, several recliners, an old-style desk, bookshelves, filing cabinets... and a computer too. Classical music plays in the background and the delicate scent of incense hangs in the air.

The Devil steps aside to let Weyland in enter. No need to make promises of release for him, since he is out of her purview.

Comments

[mechanicalswans]

He follows her inside, glancing around warily. Not quite what he would have expected, but then his own apartment is not what most people expect... then again, his forge is his proper domain, and it is exactly what people would expect.

"This is where you live?" he asks.

[7twistedwishes]

"No, this is where I work. It is my domain, and I have full control over most aspects of it. It could be a medieval dungeon, a tropical forest, a desert..." She walks to a bar cabinet. "Would you like a drink, before I show you my core?"

[mechanicalswans]

"I would love one," he says with a smile. "Whatever you have. Do you usually keep it as an office, or do you... tailor it to the expectations of your guests?"

[7twistedwishes]

"Oh, I keep this 'front room' mostly stable for guests. I change the perceived time period to reduce shock, there are enough shocks ahead." She serves them mead, chilled a bit like it would be naturally in the northlands.

She gestures to a very complicated model over a table. It generally looks like an inverted cone, the thin end pointing downwards. "This is the general look of Hell... just above us are the plains of Limbo, and below us, the nine circles of hell. Each circle is divided in seven concentric layers, with the lake of fire at the very center and four rivers further dividing each circle in four sections. So I have two-hundred and fifty-two areas for as many grades of sin, plus a city in each even level for the odd cases."

[mechanicalswans]

He moves to study the model.

"The circles of Dante," he asks, "each according to the sins? Do you decide who to put where, if, perhaps, a person has committed more than one in equal amounts?"

It isn't the world setup that he grew up with, but he has heard stories.

[7twistedwishes]

"Oh, yes, Dante. But he tried to make himself more important than he was, and all he saw was this model."

[mechanicalswans]

"Did you bring him in here?" he asks. "Or did he... find his own way in?"

[7twistedwishes]

"I brought him here, in a day I was truly bored... and he wrote that book, making up nearly everything." She grins and shakes head, offering the mead glass, tall large glasses...

[mechanicalswans]

He takes the glass he is offered, and settles onto the couch.

"At least in him you found a talented publicity agent?" he says. "In my experience that can make all the difference in how we are seen, having the right followers."

[7twistedwishes]

"Oh, he depicted me as a monster with three maws, chewing on three sinners... aw, come on, Brutus? He barely rates third circle..."

[mechanicalswans]

"Indirectly, though," he says. "Indirectly, he showed your power and your domain, and people fear you. People have made you and your domain a subject for art. You have followers, however ill-informed they may be."

[7twistedwishes]

"But I am not a goddess, my dear. I am not interested in followers, I receive no advantage from them." She steps closer, and kisses his chin. "But at least the 'feared' part is interesting."

[mechanicalswans]

"You never... use it to toy with them?" he asks. "I do. I have in the past, anyway; the cult I have now is not dedicated to me, and most of them do not know who I am. If you have people willing to follow you, you can get them to do almost anything. It can be entertaining."

[7twistedwishes]

"True... that is an idea." She nods, moving to take his arm. "Shall we?"

[mechanicalswans]

"As you like," he says, and sips his drink. "I have no particular plans for the evening."

[7twistedwishes]

She nods, taking him to an elevator.

It was not there a moment before. Anyway, she walks in with Weyland, and presses '97' on the panel: it starts moving down...

On the way, the glass walls will show infernal panoramas and peeks at sinners being eternally punished.

[mechanicalswans]

He follows her into the elevator, and watches the sights that go past with interest.

"Do you ever go for walks and talk to the people being punished?" he asks. "Ask them whether they regret it--can they reform, or are they here forever?"

[7twistedwishes]

"If they are here, it is because they do not regret." The Devil shakes head. "The redeemable do not come here, only the damned. And most of them are petty damned, empty and boring."

[mechanicalswans]

"Do you ever change their punishments, just for fun?" he asks. "Offer them tasks to carry out in exchange for their freedom, but then deny it? Then again, I imagine that would only be fun a few times. It would get old quickly."

[7twistedwishes]

She turns around, leaning to the glass, watching him. "Dear, I have been doing this for thousands of years. I have tried every trick, every game." She is a bored Devil.

The elevator stops with a 'ding', and the doors slide open to admit cold air. "I can not go further... or rather, this avatar can not go further, but the passage is straight. Just watch out for the ice on the floor."

[mechanicalswans]

"We should trade games," he says, "see if that can alleviate the boredom at least a little. Maybe you haven't played all of mine, and I doubt I have played all of yours.'

He glances out through the doors, and finishes his drink. "I shall be careful," he says.

[7twistedwishes]

She just nods and watches him go...

The room at the end of the tunnel is... not a room but a vast domed cave, filled with ice. No floor, just ice, like a massive lake frozen.

And under the ice, there are sinners, frozen but 'alive', contorted in agony.

Far ahead at the center of the lake, a small stone slab rises from the ice; there is an humanoid figure sitting upon it.

[mechanicalswans]

He is well accustomed to ice, being from the northlands, and having been to the realm of the frost giants. But it feels different here--the sort of nightmarish, he thinks, that would have fit in very well with his own people.

So he walks carefully along the ice, observing his surroundings.

[7twistedwishes]

And as he gets close enouugh, the figure looks up. Wearing rags, dirty bandages covering old wounds, emaciated.

The Devil smirks. "Take a seat." As she gestures, the manacles and chains that bind her wrists, ankles and neck to the stone rattle.

[mechanicalswans]

He frowns, but takes a seat, obediently.

"This is where you are, always?" he asks quietly. "How did it happen? How can you change it?"