Jormungandr Goes To Hell - WE'RE IN HELL

>Hang on a second. Demons usually want something from you. Find out what he wants before you agree to anything.

>Well, that sounds pretty not-fetch-questy for once. Ask him what kind of information he'd need in exchange for one specific book's location.

“I’ve been down this road before.” You say. “You’re a demon. You must want something from me. Before I give you a scrap of information you’re going to tell me what you want.” It is difficult to sigh without a mouth, Sam somehow manages it.
“I have been completely upfront with you, your highness.” He replies. “I just wish information. I give you my word.” Regardless, you are still a little suspicious.
“What kind of information do you want?” You ask.
“A memory of yours.” Sam says. “But, I am afraid, not one that you would be able to provide without assistance.”
“Aha!” Bracken exclaims from somewhere behind you. “I knew it. I said to myself, this one’s gonna be trouble, and I was right. You can’t one past me that easy, let me tell you. You’ve gotta get up pretty early in the morning to get one past old Bracken.”
“Why wouldn’t I be able to recall this without your nebulous assistance?” You ask.
“Well you see… the thing is… human memories; they’re pretty abysmal when it comes to memory retrieval.” The demon paused for a moment, before amending himself, “in the hands of their human owners that is. Things are misfiled and oft times misremembered. I need accurate information, and furthermore, I believe the incident in question is likely to be something you no longer consciously possess memories of. Call it a ‘hunch’ why don’t you?”



“So…” you say. “Assuming I want to go through with this-”
“Why would you want to go through with this?” Bracken interrupted incredulously. “Listen to me here: this one, I don’t trust him. We’d do better to leave well enough alone. We’ll find the book eventually and without no demon messing around on the inside of your head.”
“Assuming I wanted to go through with this,” you reiterate, “how exactly would we do it?”
“You reach out and touch me,” Sam replied, “and you let me do the rest.”
“Yeaaaah…” Bracken said slowly. “I told you this was a bad idea, don’t you say that I didn’t. Come on, let’s get searching this library shelf by shelf.” There’s a long moment of indecision, where you can pretty much feel Bracken hanging by the doorway, waiting for you to follow him back down the passageway.
“Would it help your ruminations to learn that this book is one I have already ingested, as it were; that the data you seek now exists only in my own personal memory banks?” Sam asked. “I implore you not to think of this as me strongarming you into an unfair situation. I foresee a profitable relationship blooming between the two of us, and all I need for the moment is momentary access to your memories. I give you my word it will take less than a minute.” Another pause.
“…Fine.” You reply eventually. You turn to Bracken who has a look of disbelief and horror upon his face.
“If this takes longer than he says…” You end the sentence with a meaningful glance, which you hope communicates the idea of doing something about the situation.
“You’re mad.” Bracken says. “You’re barking mad.”



You walk over towards the main body of Samignia, and as you do so a tentacle of green sludge rises to greet you.
“One minute?” You ask.
“One minute.” Sam replies.
“And no peeking at my private memories.”
“I would not dream of it.”
“’Oh hello I know I am a demon, and as such one of your enemies, but any chance you’d like to do a Vulcan mindmeld so that I can implant you with behavioural controls and whatnot’ ‘Oh yes that would be pretty great, take me now.’” Bracken hangs back and muttered to himself, as you reach out and rest your hand upon the green slime.



As soon as your hand touches the cold slime you find yourself in one of your memories. You float in the waters of the guard’s quarters idly daydreaming about more competent princesses while beneath you Rubi and Iaoijeuaio appear to be chatting about their favourite Sportsball teams. You find the experience strange, for a minute or two you float there, present enough to experience everything again just as it was, but not so present as to take initiative and attempt to change things.



Suddenly everything is obscured by green. Sam's giant eye hangs in nothingness, glancing this way and that through your memories.
"Okay your highness. This shouldn't take a minute..."



Your sense of time in this green void is not the best, but eventually you have to ask, “I could have sworn that it had been longer than a minute?”
“Your memory…” Sam replies, “…it’s like the cerebral equivalent of… of your library. How in the world do you ever find anything in here?”
“I don’t really think about the past.” You reply with a shrug.
“You are missing a not insignificant amount of time, you know.” Sam says. “A day missing here, a week missing there… this is rather quite alarming.” A pause. "Oh hang on I think I found it."



Suddenly you’re seven years old. Though the details of the memory are occluded by Samigina’s presence, you can still feel the emotions. You feel anxious. You’re pretty sure you are ill; you feel boiling hot and you ache all over. You feel alone, you just want to be with your daddy. You’re petrified. You think you’re probably crying.
"Whoops.” Sam says. “My most sincere apologies your highness, I saw a repressed memory and I was pretty sure that it was going to be what I was looking for. I appear to have overshot. Umm…”
“I don’t want to do this any more.” You say, overwhelmed by the emotion of whatever this is. “I want to go home. Let me out, let me go home and see my daddy. I mean just let me go Sam.”
“Sorry sorry sorry.” Sam replies unhelpfully. “If you… just… hold… on… one… minute…”
“I want to go home now!” You exclaim.





You are now temporarily Brigadier Bracken. The Princess has been underneath that demon’s trance thing for a couple of minutes now and you’re starting to get a little concerned, especially with the way that there is slime crawling its way up her highness’ arm. You told her not to do it, but nooo, nobody ever listens to you. For the amount that people listen to you, you might as well be a song that nobody likes or something along those lines but more amusing. You figure you really should be doing something about the Princess and the demon, but knowing specifically what is sort of a problem.

>