[OPEN] One Hell Of A Town

Hell had been, well, boring for the Marquess. Sure, it was surprisingly peaceful for the now disembodied criminal, but there was only so much one could do when one was simply a cloud. The former human couldn't help but wonder if this was the true punishment for the damned. Complete and utter boredom. Though he had heard from some of the ogres that some of the more worst offenders were suffering individual punishments, those that were particularly heinous and refused to repent and be reincarnated. Though the Marquess should feel himself lucky he didn't suffer such a fate, it was a little bit dejecting that he wasn't important enough for such a punishment. Then again, why would he? He was just a lowly criminal on Raiti-Zacro.

Still, there had to be something to do around here. The ogres weren't very talkative, especially with how Hell worked. All they really said was to just get used to his situation and stay in line. Not exactly a hard task for him. What was he going to do? He didn't have any hands or anything, no goons to order around. Though maybe he could see if he could get some of the other disembodied souls to serve him. Hey, there wasn't any rules about subjugating the dead. Then again, the ogres had been rather vague on what the rules were. Though these thoughts did fill the Marquess' mind and stir up his imagination. If there was nothing to do around here, perhaps he should make something to do. After all, you didn't get anything by simply sitting around and lamenting what you didn't have.

His attention was then caught by someone growling in anger. He turned his attention towards the blood pond, seeing another cloud sitting on its edge, holding a fishing rod in its non existent hands and positively fuming. Where did he get the rod? A minor question, but if souls could get a hold of tools and such, it might help with any future plans the Marquee had. Right now though, the spirit seemed to be more pissed about his situation. He probably died recently, and still hadn't quite gotten over his death. The Marquess found himself floating towards him.

"Let me guess," The Marquess mused as he floated up alongside the furious cloud, "Killed by a bunch of people you deem beneath you, for reason you feel are completely unjustified," It would explain his rage. A bruised ego tended to bring out the anger in others.

Turning his head to face the voice of someone correcting him, Soma saw a light violet-reddish puffball seem to congratulate him on coming to hell.  And to be fair, Soma could sense that this guy was being a little in-genuine from his tone of voice, but not for the obvious reasons.  Hovering towards him, the lavender cloud puffer spoke up, addressing the guy, "Erm...  I don't know how to feel.  Sad, I think?  I'm still reeling over my own death."

But before anymore conversation could ensue between the two of them, this new guy came and inquired about how the guy beside him was fuming a little, to which this yellow puffball spirit started to hypothesize his own guesses.  Though he was talking to Mammon, it seemed his assumption was right for the wrong person, as Soma did see the person who slain him as being beneath him.  Yeah that jackass was much stronger than him, but he was more of a coward than Soma was, and such a tool in just toying with him until he took the Bio-Droid's life.  Just remembering that cocky attitude he adopted the instant he decided he was done with Soma was just sickening, churning his spiritual guts in place as he wanted nothing more than to stop that barbarian.

Once Mammon was finished with his explanation, Soma admits, "That one...  Would be me."  Though it wasn't a bruised ego, but his worry for his others which frustrated Soma the most.  Hell, he still doesn't even know what happened to them, and he doesn't even know how much time has passed since then.

Letting his voice raise up once they were all done speaking, he just had to ask, "You know, it's hard to know who we all are...  Erm...  If I may ask, who are you guys?  My name is Somatotrope, so I don't look rude and all...."

Usually it was Daria who handled the social encounters, and without her...  Well, Somatotrope felt a little awkward.  He didn't really know how to carry on a conversation or how to actually interact like a normal person.  Though he was fully capable in abnormal situations such as berating someone for dumb actions, he was definitely unable to make small talk at the moment.  Hopefully that could change sooner than later.

The Marquess listened quietly as the first cloud, introducing himself as Mammon, listed off a bunch of meaningless titles before finally saying something that was actually worth knowing. This guy was apparently Xylo's right hand man. And if he was here, that did not bode well for Xylo's war against the saiyans. Just like the Marquess had predicted. Though, he had blamed his allies for his death. Who was to say he wasn't killed by his own allies, or by Xylo himself?

His thoughts were interrupted by Soma inquiring about them, more specifically himself. The Marquess gave a nonchalant shrug. "Nothing really worth mentioning. I was a crime lord on Raiti-Zacro, and made a power play that backfired on my. Simple as that. In the end is doesn't really matter. We're all here." He calmly looked around the place. The ogres didn't seem to care that they were talking to eachother. If Hell was supposed to be a prison for the damned, it was certainly a lax one. And one that was particularly dull.

"It looks like if we're to get anything in this place, we'll have to do it ourselves. I highly doubt our red and blue friends here are in the mood to provide us with entertainment." He had already been thinking about doing something to make hell more lively. Maybe these two would be interested in helping him.

Mammon

Somatotrope

Somatotrope's eyes, or where his cloudy form was pointed, were boring straight into the chortling demon's spiritual form, who was having a hoot about how his buddy was mistaken as the right hand man.  Despite all that laughter, the lavender puff ball's stature didn't really change as he knew Dantalion a little more than this boisterous talker.  And even respected the big red demon himself a little more, because these two supposed right hands of Xylo held different airs about them.  Whereas Dantalion seemed to keep a bigger hold on himself and keep his mouth shut when it needed to be, Mammon did nothing but talk and boast, letting his words do all the work for him.  And only on the merits of trustworthiness, this guy was as shady as they came.

Though what came off as odd was when the Marquess answered the question directed towards Mammon, explaining at how he was nothing more than a mere mobster who tried to reach for the stars but ultimately failed.  And it was an all too boring story, which really spoke volumes about the kind of mysterious person this Marquess was.  Same as Mammon even, as they were both nothing but boasters from the way they spoke, trying to talk big game yet had nothing real to their name.  At least this was speculation inside the rationalizing mind of Soma, now that he had to ultimately think for himself with the absence of Daria.  Only using the base experiences he accumulated over the past half year, and the assistance given to him by his creator in these kind of situations.

Then they both started talking about taking control of Hell or something, or at least that was the kind of vibe he was getting.  These two were wanting to do things in this dead realm, though in the mind of Somatotrope what was the point really.  Yeah they were new here in the underworld, but the fact of the matter was that they were dead, and the ogres were basically the overseers of this place, despite at how lackadaisical they acted.  There really was no need for this kind of thought process seeing as how they were all going to be here for the rest of eternity, though it would probably be best not to get on these guys' bad sides.  What with them being talkers, they can easily ostracize Soma from the rest of the people in the underworld through twisted words.

"I think I'd be okay for a kinsman-ship of sorts," Soma chimed in, not committing to a full blown alliance because his rationale kept raising many red flags over these folk, but they could prove useful confidants in the future if he kept an open mind about things.