D.H.O.R.K.Z. Agent in hell

from /hhg/ - Helluva Hotel General #812, #814
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I'm sht at writing greens but there was one idea I had to do.
>Be Agent #28
>Wake up on the cold hard dirt, feeling like sht. Your everything hurt.
>Your vision wouldn't focus no matter how hard you tried, you could barely stand, and... was that YOUR hand?
>Wait why were you lying on dirt? The hell happened last night? You took a while to remember.
>There was getting coffee spat in your face.
>Grabbing your katana when the alarm went off.
>Learning the hard way that your bullet deflection training didn't mean shit against shotguns.
>Does your insurance cover "murdered by demons"?
>Either way, looks like you were dead. Perfect!
>D.H.O.R.K.S. Contingency plan A55 - So You Just Died And Went To Hell: Step 1; Locate fellow agents and establish base of operations.
>Meanwhile at I.M.P
>"Uh, sir? Do the people that moved in right next to our office remind you of anything? Especially their sign?"
>"D.H.O.R.K.Z."
>"Absolutely no relation to any demon-hunting organisations in the living world."
>"No Moxxie, why would they? Their sign explicitly says they don't so it's definitely nothing to worry about."
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kek
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That's a really nice idea
Good that you shared
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>Blitzo ignores all evidence the D.H.O.R.K.Z. are the agents he just killed
>Even though they refer to eachother by their agent number.
>Even though they still all wear sunglasses indoors
>Even though any of them that can wear suits, are.
>Eventually though, there's one piece of evidence Blitzo can't ignore. "Wait a second, I'd recognise that fat dead mom anywhere."
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New thread! Now's as good a time as ever to add more to the D.H.O.R.K.Z. green.
>The first few days in hell were, as expected, hell.
>With no clue how to use your new abilities, no money to your name, not even clothes, you were left on the streets to fend for yourself.
>Still, it wasn't like you learned nothing as an agent. What you lacked in weaponry or combat skill you made up for in reconnaissance and stealth which, combined with the lack of police in hell made you a successful thief.
>It only took a few picked pockets and a break in to some run down house to get the money you needed for a phone and some spray paint.
>You didn't expect hell to have its own social media, but it would make finding other agents a lot easier.
>Not enough money to buy your own place though, you'd need the other agents to pool your money together for that. For now, you found an abandoned building to hide out in, and painted "Credo Omnino" on the front door.
>After hiding your spare money inside, you got to work finding the other dead agents. Getting an account to post some codewords out on hell's internet, as well as going outside and greeting anyone that looked particularly lost with a code phrase.
>Effective, and nearly risk free. Except for that one imp that threatened to stab you in the face, but you eventually talked him down to stabbing you in the leg.
>What a bastard.
>Fortunately though, you managed to contact seven more dead agents, that had gotten a bit of money of their own.
>Unfortunately, you didn't seem to have anything in common appearance-wise, so no way to spot them in a crowd apart from perhaps lack of clothes.
>Still the lack of stable income was a problem you were unsure how to overcome. You needed weapons, a headquarters, clothes, but perhaps most importantly food. Scouring hell for the other agents wasn't too easy on an empty stomach.
>Step 1 was well underway. Not long before time to work on Step 2: Information Gathering And Situation Assessment.
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>Having to eat and drink even after being dead scked.
>A lot of hell's shops had the annoying quality of having no price list, relying on a lot of bartering, and they all seemed interested in scamming the new blood.
>You eventually got one down to a reasonable price when the eight of you threatened to carve him up and put him in his own food.
>Seems they at least understood the universal language of violence well enough.
>Checking your phone seemed to give you a lot of official-looking information as part of a "beginners guide to hell", though it also told you that being dead you could pass through walls if you ran at them full speed.
>As funny as it was watching Agent #32 bash his face... snout... whatever he had now into the wall, that did mean a lot of this beginner's guide was useless, and the "yearly cleanse" clock probably wasn't rain.
>Checking up at that clock tower, it was 338 days until the next cleanse, so you didn't have to worry about that for a while.
>What seemed like a more interesting matter was the topic of demonic magic, which, being a demon, you could try to harness. In the safety of your hideout, of course.
>After a little double checking information, some trial and error, and nearly exploding due to whatever asshole gave the wrong ritual components, you and a couple other agents finally figured out an exceptionally useful spell.
>Clothes summoning.
>Finally! You could stop looking like some naked lizard freak with too many eyes and you wouldn't even have to pay for custom fittings.
>After some heated discussion, you eventually got the others to agree on white suits for the new hell-based division's uniform, still with the usual shades. Can't improve on perfection.
>You were worried having a total of five eyes would make it impossible to find good eyewear but even the eyes on the back of your wrists now had shades, strapped on like a watch.
>Finally, you looked properly dressed, and the uniform should help with finding other agents.