just call, we're all connected

[unbr8kable]

[It is a long, long sail to Hachijojima, but at almost 300 kilometers south of the Imperial Palace, it's one of the most remote places within the city limits, making it perfect for both urban exploration and other dubiously wise pursuits. Surely anticipation and boredom from the trip is the only reason for the frisson of nervous energy Nemesis can't shake even after an afternoon on what even in Hell TV form are gorgeous black sand beaches and lush, tropical greenery that verges on overgrowing the buildings of the port town.

That said, soon enough it's time to get to business, and after a dinner of fresh-caught fish and fruit to supplement the food they'd brought along, Hurricane and Nemesis begin setting things up.

The hotel they'd scoped out for the ceremony (thanks Yahell! Maps) was run down and abandoned even by Tokyo-F standards, its bubble-chic French Baroque architecture salt stained and half covered in vines and ferns and established greenery. Its sprawling beach patio opens straight to the sand and beyond that the ocean, though the promenade of graceful statues are now crumbling, and rather than cafe tables or lounge chairs, only moss and bioluminescent mushrooms venture over the once ornately tiled floor.

There is still plenty of space for candles and salt and whatever else one might need to do with the space, and Nemesis dumps her bag of supplies right there on one of the benches carved into the railing; turns to Hurricane beside her.]

Ready to summon an elder god?

Comments

[crossmyheartandhope]

Dude, like I know? I ain't never done this before.

[He starts digging supplies out of his own bag]

Fingers crossed randos on the internet know what they're talking about.

[unbr8kable]

Or that they even got this kinda stuff in Hell...

[She unpacks some candles and salt, and a blade that obviously was found in the shop under "ceremonial blade," impractically curved and shiny; this is all set next to the buckets of disgruntled sea life from their earlier fishing expedition]

Do we gotta wait until midnight or is it whenever we got everything set up?

[crossmyheartandhope]

The picky stuff says we gotta wait till the stars align, but this ain't real Earth anyway, so who even knows when that's gonna be?

[He digs out a notebook full of notes in his sloppy handwriting, and a copy of the Necronomicon, from the library]

So I figure, let's give it a go now. If it don't take, we can try again at midnight.

[unbr8kable]

'Kay. Hopefully we got enough "outer gods" or whatever to last that long...

[She nudges at the bucket, punctuating the words, before sitting out the candles in a rough circle in front of the steps to the water]

How'd that altar thing come out by the way? Did you get a Godzilla on it like the picture?

[crossmyheartandhope]

Came out okay? Pic had it in rock, but I never really done stone before, so -

[Digs in a rather lumpy bag to pull this out. It's done in hard wood, and the hard wood has been convincingly aged, as though the person who worked on it has some experience, say, making props for tabletop sessions]

- wood it is.

[unbr8kable]

Ohh, looks great. If I was a tentacle monster I'd be excited about that.

[She grabs it to place in the center of the circle of candles, and sets their bucket of appropriate(?) sacrifices next to it, along with the overly ornate knife.]

There anything else we're missing or are we ready to hit it?

[crossmyheartandhope]

Think we're ready to give it a go.

[He flips his notebook open - reads through a couple of lines. Opens the Necronomicon, and leaves it open, to the page he'd stuck a scrap of paper in]

Let's do this.

[unbr8kable]

[She positions herself beside him, so they can both face the direction they've decided R'lyeh is (out, towards the water) and nods.

The candles around them flicker a bit in the evening breeze, but otherwise stay steady. With the lapping of the ocean it's almost calming.]

...You wanna say a few words over our noble sacrifices?

[crossmyheartandhope]

Sure. Uh.

Oh great lord Cthulhu, we offer these sacrifices in your name, that we may beg of you an answer to our question.

[He glances down at the book before him, trying to make it look like he isn't reading from his notes,]

Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn...? Ph'nglui mglw'nfah... uh. Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.

[unbr8kable]

[Nemesis nods in agreement, and draws a sleepy crustacean from their bucket, dramatically stabbing it with the ceremonial knife and letting its juices soak into the altar]

The mi-go...the coo--the coinchenn... Only some of the elder gods who must bow to you.

[She sacrifices a good-sized cod, and some other fish as well]

Please, grant us the honor of answering us.

[errours]

[ The candles flicker, and smell of sea and salt is heavy in the air. There is a pregnant pause.





One of the candles is snuffed by a random breeze.
You get the distinct feeling that this ritual might need a bit more oomph to it if it's going to catch anyone's attention. Maybe a personal touch? You could bleed on something? Those are classics. ]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He waits - waits longer]

[Then finally, quiet:]

...you think we gotta do like that one time, in the game tower?

[unbr8kable]

[She purses her lips, but the rest of the crabs they'd caught probably aren't going to be much more attractive than what they'd already laid out, as delicious as crab legs are]

...Okay. Okay, let's sweeten the pot.

[A beat, then she reaches for his hand--wipes the fish guts on her ceremonial robes before reaching to slice shallowly across his palm, just enough for blood to start welling up]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He holds his hand palm-up, to keep the blood from spilling onto the altar just yet - reaches out his other hand, for the knife]

Matched set...?

[unbr8kable]

[She nods, offering it, as well as her own hand]

The more the merrier, right? That's what I'd want if I was an all-powerful tentacle monster.

[crossmyheartandhope]

Guess so.

[He draws the blade across her palm, as well, to form a shallow cut that mirrors his own]

Time to make this altar look like the real deal, I guess.

[He holds his hand out over the carved wooden block, palm still facing skyward - glances her way]

Wanna count us down?

[unbr8kable]

Yeah... We add this offering of ourselves though we are definitely not elder gods that need smiting or whatever to prove our commitment to this humble request.

[And she nods, waiting a three count before letting the gathered blood spill to the altar as well, joining the rest of the offerings]

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He turns his own palm as well, the blood gathered there pattering down onto the carved wood, now that gravity has its way]

I know you're, like... sleeping under the sea, but we'd be real grateful if you could give us a couple minutes, o great dreaming one.

[He hesitates - digs into his superhero belt pouch]

[Slides a pack of Pocky onto the altar, to sweeten the deal]

/2

[errours]

[ Maybe it's your heightened intent—that edge of desperation like the edge of the knife. Maybe it's the smell of blood, mingling with the salty innards of the still weakly-twitching crab.



Maybe it's the pocky.



There's a faint crackle of flame as the snuffed candle flares back to life. And you think you can hear something else, like a rustling or maybe a whisper— ]

[errours]

[ Something in the air smells off—old and rotting, like mildew. On the makeshift altar, the cardboard pocky box is going black with mold. ]

—o͡f͜ ą ̢mon̸s̕tru̷ct҉ arca̧d͜ias ͟t̕o r͟evel͠at͘įǫn wa̧s ͘to ͟forge͝t m̢y̢se̴lf̴:͘ w͝ashed̀-̢o̴ut,̶
c̡ol͜d, ͢p̶o͠n̨d̡w̕eèd҉ ta̛ng͟l̨ed in ͏t́he͝ me̛mb̀er҉ wer҉e ̀s̨ha͜l͟l ͡còm͝e ͢to ̸r̷eve͞l͡,̵ iǹ fl͡o͟w͝e̡re͢d͢ éxit ͡w҉ou͢n̡ds—

[ There's a damp squelch beneath your feet at the shifting of your weight, and you see the source of it in the flickering candlelight: those same mushrooms you saw before, inside the decaying hotel. Were they always growing this close to the shore?

—No, no, these mushrooms are definitely spreading even now, mycelia sending out filaments that weave together to form more words: ]

T҉h̛a̛t wh̵i҉ćh͝ ̡sh̡all̶ ̨be ́wr̛i͘t̴e̡
͏ ͘ ́ ͢ ͘ ̧ ͘ ̛ ͡ ͞ ̡ ̕dest҉inies ̴a̴ro̷u̡nd̀ ̨wit̵h à
leth͠a̸l̷ ̸b̀egging,̧ ͞a ̸th͘ou̢şed and ͡càp̢t̴ưr͟ed͝, t́h͞at wheth͟er i̵t ìs̀ n͏o͝t̨
f̵o̢rgív̶e̛n...

[ You're definitely calling something.



What do you do next? ]

[unbr8kable]

[They are definitely calling something, which--for some reason Nemesis had not exactly expected despite them having summoned a demon her first month here?

Of course, there is a big difference between the so-called demons of TV's idol hell and something like this. She backs a bit toward Hurricane, suddenly feeling very exposed here on the shrinking sliver of patio]

Hello?

[This comes out unexpectedly tentative; a breath later she follows up]

--Who's there?

[crossmyheartandhope]

[He takes a half-step toward her, in the same breath - some age-old instinct, maybe, to have her back if things start to go south]

[His hand is a little shaky, as he gets his phone out to snap a pic of the mushrooms - as he smears blood onto the screen and doesn't notice]

Is this, uh... you, dude?

Cause, like. All hail the Great Dreamer. Uh. Iä, iä...?

♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNfrwqxKRTQ

[errours]

[ The cardboard pocky box collapses in on itself, tiny mushrooms unfurling from the bases of the twiggy cookies. The whispering voice grows—well, not louder, exactly, but more present. ]

...e̢v͘en ̴t̡he̡ ͟an҉g̴e̷l w̸h͢o̴ ̡i̛s͠ ̷l͞i̵ke̢ à ̶s͠l҉ab
̨of̴ fl͟ami̵ng͟ m̴ea͟t, hov͏e͘ring
ųp t͘h̕erę is ą ̡sui̧c͘id͢e̢
̀ ̨ ͜ ͜ ͜ ͏ ̢ ͘ ҉ ͡ ̷ ̴ ̀ ͠ ̡ ͡ ̴ ̢ ̢ ͡ the s̷oft̢ ̧a͏ir,͘ aļĺ s̕h͟all ̡s͜til͟l͝
͏ ̡ ̀ ͠ ͞ ҉ ͞ ̧ ͡ ͞heŕe̡, e̛v̀e͠r̛y͟ v́i̵ne ͜& r̢oot dęm̕ands͏ b̛l͡oo̷d̡—

[ At your feet the trail of words continues, the lines occasionally flickering an eerie bioluminescent blue. ]

her͞e, ̡ever͞y͡ ͜v̛i̧ne͘ ͢& ͟root͏ de̕mands ̨bl̸oo̡d͘ ̷–
̛ ̵ ͜ ̡ ͘
̡
͠ ͏ ̷ h͟eré,͡ ̧év̴eŕy l̨i͏fe͞ i͘s͢ ̴biŕthed ͡f҉r̢om hơlloẃ ̡a͟b͟s̢enc͞e ̧–
̴
̀Be̢twe͜e͜n th͟e ͝rib̶ca̷g̛e͏ ͏tur̷ned ͞vi̵n̨e͠ riv̀u͘let, ͞survived
͟ ̕ ͟ ͝ ̴ ͜ b͏ef̛o̸r͜e̷ you̶ ͡s͜lidé ҉down ̸i͘n͏t̴o your ̡fin̕g͠ers.͏ ͠I̡ ̶h̀ave ͘s҉e̴en̴ t̀h͠ȩ m͡e͜m̕b̕ra̢n͠es of ͏d́įs̛eas̵e͟
̕clos͘e ̶ov̨e̛r̸ y͞o̢ur ͏hèa̴d,̷ ánd his͜tor͠y̕
óccur̨s̛ ͠to͢ y͞o͞u̢r bod̨y̕ a͟s͏ a ̴f̕a҉l͝l҉i̵ng ͞i̸nto̶ ͢h̛ot ̷m̴ud.

[ The crab finishes twitching—only for its innards to seem to burst into a roiling boil, spreading and spilling out over the altar to join the gathering mounds of fungus. ]

Re: ♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNfrwqxKRTQ

[unbr8kable]

[Nemesis quickly steps back from the altar, tugging Hurricane as well, (hopefully) out of the mushrooms' immediate range, at least]

Okay--okay. We have--we can get more, hold on, but first--

[But first, what? What sort of deal could they possibly propose? She glances over to Hurricane and presses on anyway, attempting to keep as much eye on their backs as on the words, and as much authority in her voice as possible]

--What's that about the angel?

Re: ♫: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNfrwqxKRTQ

[crossmyheartandhope]

[Snaps another picture, posture decidedly more wary, and lets Nem tug him away]

That's - yeah. We got - yeah.

You need a bigger sacrifice, I don't mind cutting myself a couple more times.

The angel's, uh - the angel's what we're here about. You know where he is?