On the plus side, the view of Bigbad City was truly spectacular. The downtown section, filled with architecturally elaborate skyscrapers, sparkled like a jewel the size of Manhattan. Surrounding the metropolitan conglomeration were various sections of civilization ranging from warehouse districts to tranquil-looking suburbs even wide green swaths of farmland hemmed in by industrial manufacturing zones. The sizable lake he had barely noticed crossing when riding the bus from the suburbs was dotted with sail boats. Robin wondered what had ultimately happened to Betty’s house.
He took note of the low mountains in one direction and wondered how much wilderness had been tamed.
Zebryl had begun to grunt and Robin could feel the strain of remaining airborne through the devil’s hands where they clamped tightly to his sweaty human armpits. Robin’s own grip on the SantaSackrelic
“We are going to have to land,” Zebryl panted.
He flapped his wings with a last few exhausted pumps of back muscle before they both tumbled onto the rooftop of a moderately tall building. They weren’t quite in the glassy redwood-like forest of monolithic downtown structures, but they were in the city’s cosmopolitan foothills of twenty-story skyscrapers.
A moment later Ashalina was deposited with a soft thump next to them. Yarya landed gracefully only to cross her arms in disapproval at the jumbled sight of Robin and Zebryl lying next to each other. “I do believe, dear brother, that I have told you on countless occasions you need to invest more Dots
Zebryl ignored his sister’s pointed jab and worked to stabilize his breathing. Robin clambered to his feet and dusted off his slightly scraped knees. “Looks like I’ve been kneeling on a Brillo pad giving out frat house blowies.”
No one reacted to the comment. Robin shrugged. “Ashalina, you look like you came out on top of things. I thought for sure you had been zombie-mobbed.”
Ashalina gave the barest hint of a nod. “Yes.”
“That’s because the dumb cow was with them when I picked her up,” Yarya sneered.
“I was only talking to the mummy,” Ashalina intoned flatly.
“As in your mother?” Yarya asked incredulously.
“No. A mummy.”
Yarya uncrossed her arms to slap both hands on cocked hips. “That’s what I said… your mother.”
“Mummy,” the zombie repeated.
“Mommy?” Wisps of smoke wafted from the corners of Yarya eyes.
“Mummy.”
Yarya clawed hands curled with exasperation.
“Um, I think I can clarify things,” Robin interjected before the she-devil brought forth actual heat. “Mummy’s are — at least in lore from my world — kind of like zombies.”
Yarya turned her flaring gaze onto Robin. “Then why call them mummies if they’re zombies?”
Robin shrugged. “It’s just another kind of zombie, I guess. We might be getting the nuance of it lost in translation.”
“Yes. That mummy is my maker,” Ashalina reported.
“Were you trying to turn on us?” Yarya snapped.
“No,” the zombie stated.
“Then why weren’t you fighting them?” Yarya took two steps closer, smoke now rising from her hands as well as her eyes.
“I was catching up on gossip.”
Robin sputtered. “Gossip? You barely say ten words a day! Besides, what sort of tea is being spilled by a gaggle of grave beggars?”
“What does tea have to do with anything?” Zebryl asked as he finally stood up. “I am very confused, Robin. I think we have more important issues to consider than Ashalina’s petty undead discourse.”
Yarya huffed and crossed her arms once more, the smoke exuding from her body dissipating in the slight rooftop breeze. “You are correct, brother. We need to figure out where to go now.”
“Maybe we can rescue Martiposa?” Robin queried tentatively.
Yarya sniffed again. “Forget that, Robin. That vampire had me…… in a choke hold and nearly bit me. Luckily, he went after our pixie as soon as the girl vampire balked at killing our friend. I left him to suffer the consequences of his incompetence.”
“I saw them feed on him,” Ashalina confirmed. “He is dead.”
That horrified Robin. If the fairy vampire had actually been Martiposa’s daughter, it was a tragic way to go — killed by your last remaining progeny. His mood slumped like snow falling off a sun-warmed roof. He felt lost. Defeated. Would they never catch a break? Was there even hope of finding a way home if life never stabilized?
A new sensation arose, not an emotional one but something physical. His internal organs felt as if they were being carbonated with fizzy soda while his skin felt crisp and sunburned. His inner ears popped violently. The devil siblings both turned pale and dashed to different edges of the rooftop looking ready to flap away like startled pigeons.
From one direction washed a torrent of hot air. From another came a thrumming hum reverberating through the very girders of the building. Robin clamped onto a venting pipe to not fall over and struggled to catch a solid breath in the oven-baked air. Trumpets and timpani sounded as a half dozen resplendent angels arose from under the building’s precipice on Yarya side and three dragon-winged devils landed by Zebryl, each depositing a wriggling hellspawn creature onto the deck like demonic lapdogs set loose in the yard.
Robin despaired of leaving this high perch alive in the face of a biblical showdown.
“Harlot Zebryl, by contract with the Khyr’Frexian CabalCelestial
The other two devils and their panting demon creatures had arrayed themselves dangerously behind their leader whose eyes began to spark with discharges of lightning.
Zebryl backpedaled to Robin’s side without giving answer. “Don’t let them take me, Robin,” the incubus hissed desperately. “Use your sack or something.” Zebryl snatched Robin’s hand in his own gripping it so tightly his knuckles audibly popped.
Before Robin could utter an answer it was the angel’s turn to issue proclamations. Leading the Celestial
When she spoke, the timbre of command was palpable in her voice and it left no room for debate. “Harlot Yarya, your allegiance has been appropriated into the care of the Orchestra of Illuminated TranscendencyKhyr’Frexian Cabal
“Shit my soul, I will not,” Yarya vehemently proclaimed, hands on her hips and smoke returning to her eyes. “I will never change color, especially not for the likes of your soulless kind. I don’t care what sort of pact you made with Kel’Gymath. I will remain Infernal
“Death is allowed under the purview of the agreement,” the angel warned softly. Hovering just off the edge, the other five Celestials
“Uh, Zeb,” Robin whispered into the incubus’s ear. “What are we going to do?” There was no way in any hell, Christian or otherwise, that Robin was going to start a fight while surrounded by powerful enemies. Even if the Santa Sack
“I will not ask a second time,” the sparking yellow devil warned. He pulled a set of chains out from somewhere proffering them up to Zebryl. “You are to be shackled before I take you to court to face Kel’Gymath. I will take your two minions as well, unless you’d rather we simply dispatch them here.”
“Hey, no one’s getting dispatched or -spatched or even spatchcocked, buddy,” Robin said defiantly. “I’m no one’s minion and I want to know if you have a warrant for this.”
“Of course he does, Robin” Zebryl sighed. “A meeting of these two forces had to have been arranged by the clan leaders. No such Infernal
One of the other winged devils, an orange-toned one with buxom curves and thick thighs smiled as she unrolled an official-looking piece of parchment. “You can examine the fine print if you want, Mystic
Robin waved her away. “Well, maybe there’s some sort of compromise we can reach?” Robin aimed his offer at all the interlopers. “Surely you angels have no use for a mean-spirited succubus and you devilFolk can’t really want this betrayer of an incubus back.” He turned to Zebryl to whisper, “I mean, I presume these are the people you used to run with, right?”
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Zebryl nodded.
“It is time for your mouth to shut, human,” the imposing yellow devil declared as he strode forward looking as if he fully expected Zebryl to start manacling himself. “My tolerance for your kind is limited.”
The orange she-devil chirped, “Mystics
The big devil stopped and chucked the chains at Zebryl’s feet with a rattling thump. “That is a fair point, my dear. However, I don’t expect we have cause to keep a zombie.” His sparking gaze fell upon Ashalina who had yet to move a muscle.
“I swear unswerving allegiance to the Khyr’Frexian Cabal
“Well there you have it, Abraxnid. I guess we have us a fresh new zombie.” At Ashalina’s pronouncement one of the demon critters yodeled like it had a throat full of wet noodles. Nothing visual changed about Ashalina's appearance as her hijab remained red, but the three devils seemed content.
“There is nothing fresh about zombies,” the lead Celestialwill worship at the feet of Raflili, no matter her protestations.”
“I most certainly will never!” Yarya proclaimed hotly. “I will make you eat those word—” Her voice was cut off by a bright flash of pure white light and a timpani boom as if the whole building had been struck like a kettle drum. From each of the five hovering angels ropes of dazzlingly radiant light snapped forth to wrap around Yarya limbs and neck. The succubus shrieked, whether in terror, pain or both Robin could not tell, but she collapsed to her knees, wings drooping as heat-sublimated tears evaporated from her eyes in puffs of steam.
Robin’s head whipped back and forth. What could he possibly do? Ashalina had just abandoned them, his clan leader was a hostage of beautifully frightening angels and his lover was about to be chained like a slave — and not in the kinky fun way. He briefly contemplated hurling himself off the edge of the building in the irrational hope he could use the SantaSackThat would be capital-S stoopid given that all these fuckers can fly. .
Shockingly, Zebryl did start to manacle himself. He managed to place the cuffs around his wrists under the watchful eyes of the citrine devil. The orange she-devil had to wrap the final set of links around his torso to pin his wings and keep him from flying under his own power.
The Celestials
“Oi, how we going to carry everyone back?” the orange devil asked. She gestured vaguely at their three, green, demon critters that now skittered about the rooftop like cockroaches looking for a snack. “I suppose you’ll be carrying the betrayer so’s I’ll carry this Mystic
Abraxnid shrugged. “Let the Skiktix feed on whoever is in this building. We can come back for them later.”
Without warning, the orange devil swept her thick tail in a quick maneuver that knocked Robin off his feet. Just before his head cracked on the rooftop he was hauled into the air by one ankle to dangle upside down with a disturbing view of the busy city streets hundreds of feet below.
He peed a little.
? ? ?
Robin's second flight couldn’t have been any worse if he’d been on Spirit Airline without barf bags, a seatbelt or cocktails to numb the terror. He swayed upside down over the panoply of BigBad City for what felt like an hour, but was, in reality, probably ten minutes. The orange devil deposited him gracelessly onto astro-turf in a children’s playground in front of a ten-story building labeled as the Cloverknott Mall.
PlainFolk shoppers in family clusters, pairs, or by themselves bustled in and out of the huge glass entryway. It seemed inordinately prosaic with all their hands gripping multiple bags of goods adorned with unrecognizable store logos. Robin dusted himself off, straightened his blue Santa outfit… “What the fuck? I’m blue again!” He spun around in bewilderment to the amusement of the devil who had carried him.
She giggled. “What’d you think was going happen? You’re a free agent again, you silly little weirdo.”
Of course. Yarya was now a hostage of the Celestials
“Makes no matter, dearie,” the devil stated as she picked her sharp teeth with one claw tip. “I can kill you here and feed upon ya or you can come inside and face our leader. She can decide if you’re worth keeping.”
Robin felt scared enough he worried Fear
With a mocking bow, the devil swept one arm toward the entrance. “By all means, little lord. Head on in, though I doubt you’ll want that betrayer saying anything on your behalf. He’s in a right pickle, he is. Her Majesty's really upset at his leaving her bedchamber all cold and dry. She don’t take so kindly to competition in the sheets… if ya know I mean.”
He groaned. He knew exactly what she meant. come out on top… so to speak… even if I am He shuffled into the mall after getting prodded once by the orange devil.
The red-toned mall was magnificent. In the real world, these places were hollowed-out emblems of late stage capitalism-turned-digital. Malls were a dying breed of American culture, but here they seemed to be as alive and thriving as they had in the 80’s and 90’s. People packed all nine levels, the murmur and hum of hundreds of voices made a soundtrack out of conversation. Robin could barely hear the chipper and cheesy music of vanilla pop songs coming from unseen speakers.
The variations of beige, tan, taupe and flax were unending in the swirl of consumerism. No one seemed to take notice of the red-clad devils in their midst as the two captives and Ashalina were escorted up ten sets of intertwined escalators to the very top floor. The view as they ascended the open atrium was lavish: sunlight from the high glass ceiling glinted off multi-hued crystalline accents along railings, door frames and light fixtures. Where a Vegas hotel might encrust every surface with brass and gold, this Infernal
The top floor proved to be a variation on a food court. Each stall around the perimeter was not a restaurant but a jewel-encrusted alcove dedicated to one of nine different gems: red ruby, blue sapphire, yellow citrine, orange garnet, green emerald, lime peridot, light blue topaz and purple amethyst. Robin felt like he was standing inside a drag queen’s Pride gown. Each of those eight sections had a throne, though only three were occupied. The ninth and largest one, was a diamond alcove that had no throne at all and seemed more like a shrine to some unseen deity.
The mechanical whir of servo motors kicked in as the party took to standing in a circle painted on the floor in the center of the court. The emerald alcove began to push forward and slightly upward. Thousands of bugs and insects scattered from underneath while its en-throned occupant shifted position from casual lounging to looming attention. Her skin and horns were green and she wore a somewhat Victorian outfit artfully exposing cleavage pushed high by a corset of belts.
“My, my, my,” she breathed, as Zebryl was forced to his knees by his yellow captor, chains clinking. “It would appear my paramour-gone-walkabout has been returned. How does it feel to finally be home, Zebryl? I trust it was only because you were lost and unable to find your way back.”
“The only thing lost was my mind,” Zebryl spat. “I should never have accepted your offer for bed play. Freedom from this place with my sister is the only thing that returned my sanity, Kel’Gymath.”
Kel’Gymath sighed dramatically as if her feelings were hurt. “It pains me to hear that I was unsatisfying. However, I suppose I shouldn’t expect a half-breed to know what proper sexual pleasure is like. Your kind might as well have been bred with demons.”
“At least both my parents were of higher Order than you.”
The green devil snickered. “ is the only reason you have been brought back here and not sold off to the scrap-metal angels with your sister. You two might have a ruby father but mother was mere garnet. I will not suffer her insidious presence here ever again. Let those feathery fowl keep her, or dine upon her, or simply kill her and throw her into the rubbish heap. I care not.”
Robin wanted to speak up, to say something but he had no clue what sort of politics he was witnessing unfold here. He worried he might only make things worse for Zebryl, and hence for himself. He wisely kept his mouth shut.
Kel’Gymath slithered out of her throne to saunter down a short set of steps onto the floor. What looked like a locust buzzed out of her hair and up toward the glass-domed ceiling of the mall complex. “I now have to think of a proper punishment to inflict upon you for being such a naughty, wayward wastrel. What ever would be appropriate?” She tapped her lips with one forefinger as if deep in thought.
“Another night in your bed,” Zebryl muttered.
Robin barley contained a guffaw.
Kel’Gymath’s emerald eyes widened, “Perhaps I should kill this human?” She pointed at Robin.
“Fine by me,” Zebryl replied without dropping a beat.
Robin felt like his soul had turned to bitter ash. Was the incubus so callous as to sell him out like that? So simply? So easily? Maybe it was some sort of ploy to protect him.
Kel’Gymath snapped her hand open unleashing sharp claws from each fingertip. “Ooo, how fun. Should I nibble him to death or slash him to ribbons?”
Robin couldn’t help the red Fear
Zebryl’s head bowed, eyes on the floor.
“Yer Majesty, wait,” said the squeaky orange devil. “He’s a Mystic
. Robin’s bladder nearly released but the hope of continued breathing stayed any splash down. He felt shamed, but begging for his life might actually be the best call here. “I… I can totally be of use, your, uh… majesty.” He nearly told her about his relic
Kel’Gymath walked slowly to him. She strutted around him twice as if sizing him up for a suit — whether one for him to wear or one she would make him was unclear. “I’m not sure I understand his attire. What can he do?”
The orange devil shrugged. “I don’t know, Yer Majesty. But the other Mystic Ferals
Kel’Gymath harrumphed. “Can you, human? Make anti-undead potions?”
“No,” Robin admitted cautiously.
“Can you do anything useful?” She continued to circle him once more. “It doesn’t have to be a thing that helps rid this city of its Undead
“I can shoot zappy little bolts of lightning.” He knew he sounded like a kindergartner telling a deer hunter that his rubber band gun was as good as a high caliber rifle.
“Interesting,” the green devil said slowly. “Show me. Shoot the zombie these idiots brought into my court.” She pointed at Ashalina.
Robin gulped loudly. He couldn’t shoot his friend, even though she sworn allegiance to these new bastards with speed that would make The Flash seem slow. He knew his spell wasn’t all that powerful and she would probably survive one blast just fine. Probably.
“Go on, do it sweetie,” the orange one cooed.
Robin’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t. She’s my friend.”
“Huh. Too bad. Guess I’ll do the claw thing.” Kel’Gymath slashed Robin down his back.
He felt warm blood flow and the searing pain came a moment later. Two red FearZingZapEssence
ROBIN’s RESULTS: 1 success [quality= 8]
ESN d4 = 3
ZingZap d8 = 2
ZingZap d8 = 8
ZingZap d10 = 2
The weak bolt sizzled into the zombie’s chest charring a hole in the front of her red hijab. Ashalina took one small step backward but otherwise seemed unfazed by the assault.
Kel’Gymath hooted and hissed in laughter sounding like a cricket on a hot saucepan. “Oh this one is delightful!” She scooped up the two dollops he had dropped and popped them in her mouth. “And he tastes good too. Go put him in the dungeon with the other Mystic
Kel’Gymath whirled to face Zebryl as Robin got yanked toward the escalators. “As for you, Zebryl. You’ll be undergoing the Ritual of Severance. I’m going to nullify your genetic contract with your sister.”
Zebryl howled. He sounded like his horns were being slowly unscrewed from his skull. “NOOOO!! She’s all the family I have left in this world. Don’t neuter me like that. Please!”
“If I remember correctly, she’s all the family you have left in world,” Kel’Gymath stated.
The sound of Zebryl’s gut-wrenching sobs carried clearly three floors down before being drowned out by the noises of mundane commerce.