Jormungandr Goes To Hell - WE'RE IN HELL

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Spoiler
It is mere seconds later and you are now this you. As you lie there in a pool of your own blood you wonder just what you have done to deserve this, your life slowly ebbs away and everything fades to black.


You awaken to find yourself standing in line waiting for a ferry to take you to your selected afterlife. Ahead of you is the librarian who used to work in the library but you haven't seen him for years. He has weird arm tentacle things. In front of him is Clone 404; your current librarian, you saw him a little while ago when you fled into the library to avoid the murderous intentions of your other self. Fat lot of good that did you.

So... what now?

---

> Steal that librarian's glasses, those X-eyes are creepy

You seize the Librarian's glasses and take them for your own. The Librarian doesn't seem to mind as he no longer needs them now that he is dead, and his vision is no longer determined by the limitations of his body. You put on the glasses to cover up the dead empty crosses that remain of your eyes. Oh yes. You are looking so stylish right now.

> Make small talk.

Swear revenge on your human clone self..thingy.

>Form a supervillain team-up.

"So... how's things?" You ask awkwardly.
"Not good." The Librarian says sullenly. "All I wanted to do was extract a little revenge from a world that had treated me and my profession so very badly and then this bitch of a princess comes along and murders me." He glances around at you. "No offence."
"None taken." You say quickly. "Me and human Jormungandr aren't exactly BFFs at the moment." You pause dramatically. "She killed me too." The pair of librarians exhibit a complete lack of interest in this shocking development.
"I suppose in retrospect it was my own fault for growing such a ridiculously huge weak spot." The Librarian muses.
"What about you 404?" You ask. "How did you die?"
"Wait, so this really is death?" Clone 404 asks. "I thought it was some kind of elaborate prank."
"Unfortunately not." You say. "What happened?"
"I was in the library and everywhere filled up with this green mist." 404 says thoughtfully. "I went to see what was going on and that's the last thing I remember."



"That's harsh." You say sympathetically. "You know... human Jormungandr was trying to open a portal here to the afterlife."
"If she'd just stood still long enough I could have saved her the trouble." The Librarian quips.
"She'll probably be here any minute." You say. "We could probably ambush her? Get some revenge?"
"I'm up for that." The Librarian says. "I could definitely do with a little revenge."
"What about you, redshirt?" The Librarian asks.
"I don't really have any problem with Jormungandr though." Clone 404 says.
"She could have killed you, you know?" The Librarian says irritably. "Snuck up behind you and smashed you on the head."
"She has been on something of a killing spree." You agree.
"Well I suppose..." 404 says. "She was always calling me brain dead, and she did hit me in the face that one time."
"That's more like it." The Librarian says with a grin.



You are now this you again. You are currently arguing with Rubi.
"You said that she was a monster." You say. "You said that should she wake up she wouldn't hesitate to murder me."
"Yes they were things that I said." Rubi replies.
"She woke up and she just asked me to stop. She didn't try to murder me." You say. "I suppose you probably think it was an act, a ruse to get close to me to murder me later?"
"No." Rubi says. "She didn't want to hurt you." For a moment you are rendered speechless.
"...Then what about the message on my bedroom wall?" You ask eventually. "Where she scrawled the word Die on the wall in cloning goop?"
"Yeah that was me." Rubi says.
"You're not on my side after all are you? You're getting some kind of perverse thrill out of making me kill people aren't you?" You bellow accusingly.
"No." Rubi says. "You had to kill someone to open a portal to the afterlife. That is a simple fact. If I had been honest that she was just like you except for some physical deformities would you have been able to kill her?"
"Well..." You hesitate. "No. Maybe not."
"I did what I had to." Rubi says. "If you want to hate me then that's up to you, but I would do it again if necessary. I am on your side and sometimes that means I might have to convince you to do something you rather wouldn't."

---

>Just walk through, with princessly dignity and aloofness.

"Ugh, whatever." You say. "After all the effort we went to to open this portal we really should make use of it." You walk to the portal, which in front of you looks like a thick black curtain.
"After you Princess." Iaoijaeuiao says, seizing upon your momentary hesitation. You step through.



You emerge on an empty grey beach, surrounded by an almost black ocean; a cold wind blows across the open expanse. Rising in front of you is a titanic orange crystalline structure.



A chorus of voices rings out throughout the expanse in harmony. The voices of men, women and children somehow combine to form a voice that is unique from all of them and disappointingly nasal and monotone. The message conveyed is ultimately a disclaimer. You are somewhat blindsided. This was not what you were expecting from the afterlife.



As you get your bearings you are approached by Clone 404, your librarian.
"404?" You ask concernedly. "You aren't dead are you?"
"Yep." He says. "But it's okay because we're going to ambush you and then head on back to the real world and it'll all be fine."
"Oh right." You say. "Well thanks for the heads-up on that." You pause as he stands there grinning like he has the upper hand. You idly wonder if you were actually correct all of those times you used to joke that his cloning vat malfunctioned while he was still in production.

---

> Yeah, steal headband because shit just got real.

Iaiojeuaio isn't best pleased at this turn of events. He says that that headband was the only scrap of individuality he had to distinguish himself from amongst the other squid guards. You tell him that you don't particularly care because of how stylish you are looking.

---

hiatus time again

Sometime later, but not much. You wake up to discover Iaoijeuaio has taken back his headband. This is a good thing because you didn’t realise just how unfashionable that thing was and inadvertently fell into some kind of fashion coma or something.


But now you are back and you figure it’s about time you got some answers as to what the hell is going on around here.
“I’m looking for an explanation.” You say impatiently, still annoyed with Rubi for tricking you into killing yourself, your other self that is.
“The only explanation I have is that you are incredibly lazy.” Rubi says. “Or if not you then whatever being happens to seize control of your useless frame and wheel it around from place to place in between naps.” You glare critically at Rubi for a couple of seconds and then disregard what was clearly nonsense.
“The big crystal thing…?” You continue regardless. “What the hell is that supposed to be anyway? Some kind of physical representation of neutrality?”


“Don’t be silly.” Rubi says dismissively. “That big crystal thing is a conglomeration made up of the dead souls of everybody who has ever died and been unable to leave this island.”
“...” You say. “I mean, yeah, go on. Elaborate further please.”
“Just because someone is dead doesn’t mean they can’t die. Unless there is some outside force acting upon them they tend to live for a very long time but eventually their essence is weakened significantly. What remains of their souls crystallizes.” Rubi explains. “There are many conglomerations throughout the afterlife. They tend to share the personalities of the souls that make them up. Although in this case they are governed by the need to properly instruct new arrivals on the ins and outs of the afterlife. It calls itself Afterlife Central but most people refer to it as The Ferryman.”
“Oh.” You say. “Obviously that makes much more sense than my theory.”
“Anyway if you want to know more about the afterlife why not actually ask the thing that exists solely to tell people about the afterlife?” Rubi asks. “Some of us have better things to do, you know.”

---

Ask the thing that exists solely to tell people about the afterlife and stop wasting Rubi's time.

Without wasting any time whatsoever you head straight over to the massive crystal structure and enquire as to how to proceed quickly on to Hell.
“To summon a ferry to Hell simply pay a gold coin for each entity that will be making this journey.” The chorus of voices reply. “Please note that the previous information was given for strictly informational purposes and Afterlife Central cannot endorse the extremely dangerous course of action to which it referred.” Without further faffing around you produce a handful of gold coins from Rubi’s inventory and throw them at the base of the monolith.



In the distance a ferry made from the same crystal structure rises from the inky blackness and steers itself eerily towards the desolate island.



“Aren’t you glad that you spent all that time preparing for your trip into Hell?” Rubi asks. “Imagine being in the Afterlife and not having any gold coins. That would be an absurd situation in which to find yourself.” You ignore her, she’s just blathering on with herself. Any minute now you will be well on your way to Hell and there is no way that there could possibly be any further interruptions to your journey… Suddenly and unexpectedly the Librarian and your half demon clone self appear, wielding weapons of dubious effectiveness. You sigh heavily, and wonder where Iaoijeuaio has got to, after all you went to all that trouble to hire him as your bodyguard it would be unfortunate if he missed this potentially once in a lifetime opportunity to actually guard your body.



Elsewhere on the island your highly competent bodyguard investigates a strange phenomenon; a gaseous vortex of dark blue smoke, it idly makes odd clicking noises as the intrepid squid saunters towards it.
“Dude, can you see this thing as well?” Iaoijeuaio asks the recently departed Clone 404, as he reaches out to test the veracity of the apparition.



“Wait!” You exclaim. “There isn’t any need for us to fight you know.” You continue hopefully, not really sure where you are going with this. “The whole killing you thing was a misunderstanding really. And hey think of it as a good thing, here you are on your way to Hell with next to no fuss. You wouldn’t believe the wandering around and finding stuff that I had to do. It was a total drag. In a way you could kind of say I did you a favour saving you all that.” Your demonic doppelganger stares at you icily. “Perhaps I should just shut up?”
“Need a hand?” asks Rubi from over your shoulder. You glance around…



…to see that Rubi has already taken care of the Librarian. His body is beginning to crystallise (a process which was explained to you mere minutes ago as the natural decomposition of the twice dead), and is leaking a viscous orange fluid. Ick, dead people are gross.



“Maybe you’re right.” Demongandr suddenly says. “Perhaps I was a little too hasty just now and you’re right it was all just an unfortunate misunderstanding and we should probably work together and wouldn’t that be great?” She chatters nervously, her eyes not leaving the dismembered body of her recent comrade.
“Don’t be like that.” Rubi smirks as she floated towards Demongandr. “I’ve been looking forward to this…”
“Please don’t kill me again!” she screeches, flinching away from the approaching mischief spirit.
“Leave her.” You say. “She wasn’t entirely unjustified in her actions; we did kill her.” Rubi looks unconvinced. “Look, how about we agree to stop killing one another and save our principality.” Demongandr nods enthusiastically. “There we go, now leave her alone.” Rubi backs off sulking.
“You never let me have any fun.” She says miserably.



“Oh look the ferry’s here.” Rubi says. “Lets get off this boring little rock and head off to Hell.”
“What about Iaoijeuaio?” You ask. There is a noise behind you and you spin around to see…





“There you are.” You say. “Fat lot of good you are. You’re meant to be protecting me and you’re off doing what?” The squid clumsily shrugs it’s shoulders, or at least makes a motion that passes for shrugging it’s shoulders seeing that it does not have shoulders. “Getting stoned I’ll bet, and 404?” Another highly articulate shrug. “I don’t have time to go traipsing after lost brain damaged clones. It’s about time I actually went to Hell, so you know what? Screw him.” You follow Demongandr and Rubi to the ferry, pausing only to gesture your highly eloquent bodyguard to follow you.



And with that you are off, floating along the deep black ocean. Slowly the sky above you changes from dark grey to a sickly green and a red dot in the distance grows as you approach it. You go to Hell.





You are now this you. Thanks to the helpful and as yet unexplained memory transference system inbuilt into the cloning vat you have the memories from the other Jormungandrs right up until they were killed/went through the portal to the afterlife (after which they were out of range of the memory transference thingy). You recall that you cloned this version of yourself to make sure everything was okay here on the surface while your other self went to Hell, but before you get to that you have more pressing issues to deal with: for example what colour dress shall you wear?

---

>Dark blue of course!

You opt to wear your dark blue dress, quickly putting it on because of your crippling modesty which is totally an established thing. You notice that the cloning vat has spewed out one of those printouts that list the various problems that occurred in the cloning process and as a consequence the various problems you now have to contend with. For super futuristic technology they are consistently defective.



You take the printout and read it, it says: “System failure: Clone brain structure partially compromised. Diagnostic systems were unable to ascertain precisely what effects this will have on the Clone, but expected to be moderate to severe on the Fuckup scale.” Excellent. Well you’re off to a flying start. For a moment you contemplate whether or not you have the same crippling phobia of candelabra as your other clone. The thought of a candelabrum doesn’t exactly fill you with dread but you decide to test it anyway.



You reach out to a nearby candelabrum, briefly hesitating before you touch it’s wax encrusted surface. You touch the candle holder without incident and feel both relieved and a little silly at the same time.



Oh and it looks like some stuff has been going on on the other side of the room while you were being cloned.

---

>Construct a robot out of the various materials on that side of the room.

This is a fantastic idea, but since you lack the appropriate levels in Junkcobblery it is nothing more than a hopeless pipe dream.

> Play with the toys for an hour and 73 minutes. exactly.

You sit down to play with your Princess Midgardsormr and Amy plushies, enacting a ludicrously elaborate xanatos roulette of bluffs, double bluffs and outright lies between the two, until you are chastised by Midgardsormr for time wasting. This is an unprecedented event and you are left speechless.

---

>You obviously posses the ability to commune with inanimate objects. Quick! Test newly found talent with most interesting object available!

After a moment of silent reasoning your incredible powers of deduction have led you to the only sensible conclusion: you have miraculously developed Staticopathic powers; the ability to communicate with the inanimate. With a power as highly useful and totally genuine as this the world is your oyster. Why you cannot think of a single problem that cannot be solved with your incredible new power. For example the parcel on your bed, an ordinary human would have to open the parcel to learn its contents. You simply will have a polite chat with the package and soon you will have the answer.



“Hello parcel.” You say confidently. When there is no response you place your hand on the package, after all you were touching Midgardsormr when she spoke to you. “Might I trouble you to ask of your contents?” As you wait for the parcel to reply you start to feel a little bit silly and maybe you were mistaken with your notion of Staticopathic powers. Maybe you just imagined that you heard Midgardsormr bothering you about time wasting; perhaps that was actually the sound of your… conscience? This train of thought is interrupted by muffled snickering from Amy. Midgardsormr shushes her companion and you feel even sillier than before.

Looks like your brain defect is displaying itself. Hopefully the hallucinations won't be too much of a problem.

>Ask Midgardsormr if she knows how to build a robot.

“Aha!” You say, figuring it out. “You’re my brain defect. I’m hallucinating this entire conversation.”
“That’s one explanation.” Amy responds. “But in truth we are who we appear to be. After a particularly successful visit to the depths of Hell we were just enjoying a delicious cup of tea in Hades’ Crystal Home when we were struck down by the curse of a powerful warlock, one who hated Hades and his gaudy Crystal Home (apparently it was driving down property values in the area). We were transformed into what you see before you; a pair of plush toys. We barely managed to escape from Hell, we come to you beseeching you, asking you to help us battle this powerful warlock. Help us Princess Jormungandr, you are our last hope.” Once again you are left speechless.
“Don’t mind him.” Mid says after a second. “None of that is true by the way. We’re just ordinary plush toys.”
“Well… yes that is true.” Amy says. “But the truly remarkable thing is not us, it is you Princess Jormungandr. You see although you might not be aware of this your father; King Fimbulvetr, was in fact a plush toy. As a consequence you are the world’s only half human half plush toy and as such you have the ability to speak to both them and us.”
“That isn’t true either.” Mid says, as though you needed to be told that. “Well probably not. I don’t know why you can communicate with us.”
“It’s because she is the Chosen One!” Amy exclaims. “She will liberate our people from the hands of drooling toddlers the world over. One day we will live in perfect harmony with a plush toy enjoying the same rights and privileges as a human. Then at some point we will take it too far and the plush toys will enslave the humans. There will be no task to minor, or too demeaning that a human cannot be flogged to death while they do it. And it will be all thanks to you Princess.”
“That’s not true either, right?” You ask.
“…”
“Either way you aren’t exactly going to be much help.” You hesitate as a thought crosses your mind. “Unless you could build me a robot?”
“I cannot.” Mid responds. “You know, since I am inanimate.”
“I can!” Amy says. “I will build it out of shiny black obsidian, with claws as sharp as knives and the cold black heart of a killer.” He pauses. “Also it will breathe fire.”
“…Then I am going to do something productive with my time.” You say, withdrawing from this bizarre conversation.

Ignore them and open the box.

Leaving the bewildering pair of plush toys to argue amongst themselves you return your attention to the parcel and what it could contain. You open the box and gaze inside.

Show Content

Spoiler

Wherein you find a smaller blue box. Simultaneously intrigued and confused you go to take out the blue box, but as you touch it it shrinks down and vanishes.



This is the worst game of pass the parcel ever.

You check the label on the box for any clues as to what that was or what it was doing in your bedroom. The name of the company brings you some measure of clarity; Hammerspace Inventory Solutions. They are a Fenrian company that specialise in making massive, yet compact, inventories for wealthy adventurers. Their products are always ludicrously expensive. Oddly you don’t remember buying this, and something this expensive you would remember buying. Still you aren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth especially one that is so incredibly serendipitous.



In the spirit of experimentation you reach out and touch the empty package with your fingertip. It promptly vanishes into your inventory. You are truly the master of inventories.

---

>You've got a fancy new inventory and memories of having to dick around like a peasant by CARRYING things. Retaliate by iventorying everything you see, potentially helpful or not.

> Check on the war. Bring Midgardsormr

This is what you’ve been waiting for. Too long have you been carrying things around in your hands like some kind of commoner. Now you have one of the best inventories money can buy you’re going to pick things up like it’s going out of fashion. PRINCESS MIDGARDSORMR PLUSH TOY, AMY PLUSH TOY, A PORTRAIT OF UNCLE BILLY, TWO PILLOWS, A TOWEL, A MIRROR, ONE GOO SOAKED CANDELABRUM, FIVE REGULAR CANDELABRA, YOUR GREEN DRESS, A STOOL, DEMONGANDR’S CLONE VAT PRINTOUT, YOUR CLONE VAT PRINTOUT and TWO HANGARS are added to your inventory. Also you discovered one spoon and added it to your intangible spoon cache.





On the one hand hooray for inventories, on the other hand this feels a lot like tidying up, which now that you come to think of it is much more low class than just carrying stuff around… Either way with your work done in here, you begin to make your way to the war room to actually do something useful.



In the hallway you notice someone has cordoned off the hole you dug earlier and wonder if perhaps they didn’t have something better to be doing with their time?



In the War Room there is a group of people gathered around the table. In addition to Hel and Fenrir there is General Oioujuoaie and one of Hel’s dryads (a species who are half human and half sentient plant) who you don’t think you have met before. Your voice crackles out of a yPhone that has been set down on the table.
“Can’t you deal with this on your own?” The other Jormungandr asks. “I’m going to be a bit busy what with being in Hell and everything, you can’t come running to me every five minutes.”
"Look, all we need is to agree that I'm in charge." Hel says. "Then we can all stop arguing amongst ourselves and get to beating back these bastard demons."
"Pardon me your highnesses but as the highest ranking military professional in this room I feel I should be the one coordinating our military response." General Oioujuoaie suggests, placing heavy emphasis on the word 'military'.
"This squid doesn't have the guts to lead a military campaign, please tell me he's your General only through seniority." Hel snaps.
"Oh of course I'm nowhere near as assertive as your Brigadier." The General mocks.
"Okay okay, look I started decanting a new clone as I left." Jormungandr says beleagueredly. "Until I get back she's in charge of sorting out any problems you might have." You clear your throat self-consciously.
“Hey.” You say. There’s an awkward pause in the conversation as the group ponders conversational etiquette when talking to two clones of the same person. “I hear you need some help.” You offer hopefully.
“Hey, me.” Jormungandr says, then addressing someone else “Not you, I’m talking to another me on the phone.” A pause, then she continues. “Hello?”
“Yes, hello.” You reply.



“I’m on speakerphone right? Could I have a word privately?” Jormungandr says.
“Sure…” you reply, picking up the phone. It accidentally vanishes into your inventory. Erm… whoops. Well no problem, you’ll just get it out, by… erm… you aren’t sure actually. How do you work this thing exactly?
“Are you there?” Jormungandr asks, her voice as loud and clear as if she were in the room with you.
“Erm…” You hesitate. “Hold on, I’m having an issue.”

---

Show Content

Spoiler

Portal 2

TCHoRT is back and intent upon getting revenge upon you, but with your new ally Rubely you might just get out of this hell alive.

>Tell General Oioujuoaie to get the phone, then inventory him. He should be able to find his way out and bring the phone with him; hopefully when he gets out he'll have some insight into how the inventory works.

Just walk into a different room. Oh, be sure to scowl and say Do you MIND? and walk off in a huff.

You figure the General is pretty loyal, he won’t mind being dumped unceremoniously into your inventory with no known means of retrieval. Even if you can’t work out this damnable inventory he should probably be fine so long as you remember to inventory some plankton from time to time.
“Get the phone.” You say, grasping a tentacle. The General squirms uncomfortably under your grip and looks incredibly bewildered by this turn of events, but otherwise nothing happens. Okay new plan. “Do you MIND?!” You exclaim, and stride off into the Hall.



“Do I want to know what is going on topside?” Jormungandr asks.
“I doubt it.” You say. “Inventory problems.”
“Not having an inventory does kind of suck.” Jormungandr admits. “When this is over I’m going to order one, I reckon. Have you considered getting yourself a Rubi in the meantime.”
“I’ll have you know that I am an individual, not some kind of species of helpful demon. You cannot get one of me for all your friends to boss around.” You hear Rubi say sulkily.
“No, that’s not the problem.” You say. “I have an inventory I just don’t know how to use it.”
“When did you get an inventory?” Jormungandr asks incredulously.
“It was in a package in our bedroom, had our name on it.” You say. “I thought you might remember when we ordered it.”
“Nope.” Jormungandr says. “Keeping track of events is hard, best to just go with the flow.”
“That’s more or less the attitude I was taking.” You say. “But I have no idea how to work the damn thing.”
“Have you tried turning it off and on again?” Rubi asks helpfully.
“No I have not.” You say. “Also I didn’t know I was on speakerphone. Excellent.”
“Rubi has an inventory, so she’s obviously an expert in how to use them.” Jormungandr says.
“Yeah, that’s exactly how it works.” Rubi says sarcastically. “Hey! Jormungandr, other Jormungandr.” She says, suddenly enthusiastic. “Not you. The one on the phone.”



“Yeah?” You respond.
“I’ve got a riddle for you.” Rubi says. “What requires two people-”
“Oh no, stop this right now!” Jormungandr exclaims. “Give me the phone back this instant!”
“-involves a swapping of bodily fluids-”
“Shut up shut up shut up shut up!”
“and eventually results in a new life arriving in the world-”
“LALALALALA WE CAN’T HEAR YOU!”
“-naked and covered in slime?”
“Uhm…” You say hesitantly.
“WRONG!” Rubi exclaims. “The answer is merged DNA cloning.”
“I hate you.” Jormungandr says.
“That’s right!” Rubi continues. “Red Jormungandr here had sexytimes with a Monstrosity.”
“That is the worst thing I have ever been told.” You say. “I hate you now.”
“You’re welcome.” Rubi says.



“I’m going now.” You say. “I can’t hang up though so you’ll just have to do that yourselves.”
“Wait.” Rubi says. “If you’re really having a problem with your inventory, look it up in the manual.”
“It didn’t have one.” You say. “...But there might be one in the library I guess.”
“Our library has a ridiculous selection of books.” Jormungandr agrees. “Oh! That’s what I wanted to tell you about. Clone 404 is dead, I saw him in the afterlife. While I can’t rule out that he somehow managed to off himself by accident, I think it would be a good idea to be careful in there.”
“Thanks for the heads up.” You say. You guess you could quickly visit the library and sort your inventory out before you end up holding the entire contents of your castle, or you could attend the war council, or whatever really; that is the beauty of being a princess.