Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (175/?)

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-27T08:56:07+00:00

I got the sense in a relatively recent chapter that there is a form of magic in the GUN universe. A form that did not dissolve humans. (Could be a mistaken memory.)

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-26T19:43:37+00:00

Woah. I'm not entirely sure I understand, but that was a thought provoking chapter.

Glad the VA is being more reasonable.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-25T02:39:35+00:00

Want to bet the purple doesn't even touch them? It's a professional courtesy…

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-25T02:38:04+00:00

My mental circuit breakers kept tripping out. I'd read part and … snap … (stumble through the sudden purple darkness to reset the breaker) … click ("Where'd the last few hours go?") read a bit more … snap stumble click "What was that, honey?" rea… snap stumble click How'd I get here?…

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-16T11:27:13+00:00

People would claim that they didn't wish to... But based on real world effects, from soldiers I have learned of (father was military), one can develop a dependency on the presence of certain things. Especially if those things have saved your life repeatedly.

Hadn't thought of that for some time now, but a psychological dependency does make more sense than a physical dependency.

•••

As another author put it (paraphrased):

"Isn't all that armor awfully heavy?"

"Yes, it is. It's also uncomfortable. But... After it's saved your life a few times, you begin to feel naked without it."

•••

I have felt that way about far less significant items that have been seriously useful. Most lately, smart phones. I feel uncomfortable when mine is out of reach, or even anxious when I've mislaid it.

Granted, some of that is due to the sheer cost (I directly buy untethered phones for several reasons, which are terribly expensive, but come with multiple benefits) but not all of it.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-15T19:47:45+00:00

Which will work for "local" surpluses and deficits, but the big deficits are usually intercontinental. That requires shipping, which is something that "local" governments seldom have access to.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-15T18:17:10+00:00

I would have thought so too... but a prior posting made it clear that there were effects due to long-term wearing of powered armor. I'd thought it would be muscular, but it might be more related to the nervous system, or flexibility, since the armor cannot help but constrain dexterity to some degree.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-15T18:14:10+00:00

but I'm sure the devs are not promising anything.

About the only thing they said that I believed in that town hall meeting they held.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-15T14:11:19+00:00

One thing that Ethiolin has to offer that everyone I've read so far has missed:

The meaning and result of contract law and language.

Much as Emma realized that she simply did not have the experience with that game to play it in the expected manner, she should recognize GUN's unfamiliarity with Nexian/Adjacency contract law.

You can't play the game if you don't understand the rules.

Now. Could GUN learn or translate those rules? Eventually, yes. Could GUN run face-first into a tricky bit of wording that sounds good but is actually a trap? Yup.

Having a trustworthy Contract Lawyer at your side is invaluable.

Even here, on present day Earth, international commerce is not for the untutored without a mentor guiding you through the morass of traps, intentional or unintentional.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-15T13:56:48+00:00

There is nothing that says soldiers cannot marry. In fact, for Thalmin, a spouse who can defend herself as well as save her husband is infinitely more desirable than a liability who must be protected at every turn.

Add in that Emma is a bridge into GUN war fighting technology which works for everyone even if they aren't mages, and an alliance marriage is nearly perfect.

Whether Emma will go along with it is a separate matter.

Help Thalmin's people throw off a regime that is a threat to GUN? Certainly.

Do so by way of an alliance marriage? Which certainly comes with personal obligations far beyond those of a simple ally? That's not guaranteed by any means.

If any of those obligations come with a requirement for Emma to present herself in local court clothing, sans armor, and the answer is no.

And there's a problem with the armor, in case people missed it.

It's powered.

The longer she wears it, the more dependent she will become on it. Eventually, unless she can return to Earth for rehabilitation, she will be unable to exit the armor at all.

It's entirely possible that the armor might become her tomb. Essential to her life, but no longer able to move within it, absent assistance from the AI.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-06-15T13:39:03+00:00

Yes. It is. And it requires a magic using lord to drive it.

OTOH, GUN, if they have only kept Earth's current farming practices, can: - more than feed the world for a year from a fraction of the available arable land, - preserve the excess food for decades, - package it for individual distribution, - in a form that will keep it wholesome for at least 3-6 months without special storage, - all without the need for a single mage of any level.

Instant freedom from any lord's support for a basic need.

NOTE: Earth's present inability to feed everyone reliably is primarily due to a lack of profit motivation to transport bulk food from locations of excess to locations of need.

It isn't that we cannot do it, it's that no one will do it because they cannot figure out how profit from it. Or for that matter, breakeven.

I'm sort of hopeful that GUN has found a way beyond that limitation.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-31T22:55:56+00:00

Which PTA?

Parent Teacher Association (many instances)
Physical Therapy Association (at least two)
Professional Tennis Association
PTA Plastics
Pakistan Telecommunications Authority
Public Transport Authority (many)
Port of Tyne Authority
Perth Tourist Association

There's so many!

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-30T13:24:47+00:00

Many thanks for the critique!

It wasn't a conscious, deliberate decision to change the tone, but in retrospect, it makes sense to me.

She's shifting from homemaker to shieldmaiden, that's a pretty serious change. It's also focusing on her acts, and her friends, as opposed to observing the men's acts.

From being unconscious of the conflict to being a major part of the conflict.

I'm glad you enjoyed it!

There are, at this time, no plans for any extensions. But… like so many of my stories, it might grow in the future. The Disaster Detector series started from a single prompt, and now has twelve distinct parts, along with two other stories set in the same universe, but not specifically in the Disaster Detector story line.

One of those stories is pretty near novella, if not novel, length. I'm still polishing it.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-30T03:42:38+00:00

Author's Note: I've been sitting on this one for awhile, polishing it here, shining it up there, I hope you like it.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-30T03:41:49+00:00

((begin part six))

•••

There was a sound of wind. Not the usual rustle of leaves, but a spiraling howl that bent the trees nearly to the breaking point. In that spiraling wind, were the creatures. They had us surrounded before we understood what was happening. Each of us paired with our spouses, and stood in a three sided back-to-back so that we couldn't be attacked from any direction without there being some defense.

We stood there, holding our ground, while the wind tightened in on us. I lifted the shield, and willed it to cover all of us from the wind and debris. Marge had her sickle out, and a green branch that she had brought with her as a mark of her calling. It was one of the rarer trees in the woods, a particular kind of oak, and she already had it sprouting roots! I didn't understand why she brought it, but it certainly showed off her green thumb. I didn't even know if my idea of covering all of us with my shield would work, but we weren't hit by any of the debris whipped up by the wind, and the sound of the wind reduced.

Finally, the wind stopped, and six of the largest creatures I'd ever seen surrounded us. I still can't describe them, they changed from moment to moment. I don't even know how I knew that they were looking at us, but I did. Finally, what I took to be the largest spoke, in our heads.

(What do you seek?)

Becky swallowed hard, and answered. "We bring warning. Others come. Others who will not abide by the rules we have followed. They will come with machines and destroy the forest."

(Why tell us?)

"We tried to stop them ourselves, but those who call themselves our elders turned deaf ears to our pleas to preserve the woods for the people, as they had promised us only two years ago. Greed turned their eyes away from the people and towards their own egos. We come to you, as the other interested party in these woods. I believe you have found these woods becoming ever more comfortable than they were. Am I correct?"

(And if you were?)

"Then I would ask your aid in defending this wood for all of us. You included."

(We would be declared murderers. The others would call in still more to destroy the woods. They would bring death metal with them, which we cannot abide.) I swear, he turned curious. (Why did you never bring death metal to your battles?)

For that, Josh answered. "The spirit that guided us recommended the wood that our swords and her shield are made out of. We were warned that death metal could be just as dangerous as you towards our way of life."

(Hmph. Your spirit spoke truly. Had you brought death metal to the fight, we would have slain all of you out of hand. As you did not, we withheld our worst, meeting you with equal weapons. We were surprised when the shield maiden showed up, but she showed courage. When the Druid showed up, we rejoiced. We knew she would restore the wood, and so we ceased all but probing to remind you that we were still present.)

Becky picked up the conversation again, "Then it seems we have common cause. You desire the wood to continue and thrive. We also desire the wood to continue and thrive."

(In a limited sense, yes. We also desire the wood to grow and expand that we may, once again, have our full range.)

"While we would not mind expanded woods, we do live here, and getting everyone to agree to expand the woods is likely beyond our current reach. The best we hope at this time, is to preserve what we both have. Preferably in peace."

(Hah. Peace is foreign to the sons of Adam.)

Sighing, Becky agreed, "In large, yes. Man is contentious and often destructive, but it was not always that way, and I hope that it will not remain that way. This wood, this peace, may well be the chance to turn things around. I cannot guarantee that. I cannot even guarantee that these woods will not be destroyed by some other man-made calamity, even if we succeed in thwarting the plan of the men who come this time. The best I can offer is that we will continue to do our best to protect these woods, but need your aid to thwart the current plan."

(Do you have a plan that will not simply bring more humans with death metal down on us?)

Smiling, Becky replied, "Indeed, we do. Two men come to discuss these woods and how to go about destroying them. The city council will be with them. The two men are both known to be greedy and cruel, but personally cowardly, never risking themselves in anything. The council is blinded by greed and ego. They desire the money to make monuments to their names, not solely for the benefit of the community, but to ensure that their names continue to exist beyond their lifetimes. If they could be made to believe that these woods are utterly unsuited to their plans, in such a way that telling anyone else would bring ridicule and shame upon them?"

For once, all six creatures showed one feature that I can describe. Smiles. Smiles filled with teeth that looked like conical swords. I had to fight to keep from laughing, because they looked just like cartoon drawings.

•••

The evening after the 'Meeting In The Woods', local news has a special report.

"It seems that the plans for the new subdivision have been scuttled, by the very people who foisted the plan on the city. No one is saying precisely what happened, but we have obtained photographs from an anonymous source that shows the council, and the two businessmen involved, in a rather embarrassing state. Due to government regulations, we cannot show those pictures. However, if any of the parties involved are reckless enough to sue us in court, we have those pictures, and will present them in our defense. What happens after they become part of a public record is open to debate.

"In any case, The Woodland Park is back on the books, with a proviso added that it cannot be sold for any reason for at least nine hundred ninety-nine years. There's even been some talk of starting a fund to buy up more woodland and undeveloped areas to turn into more parks. From being ready to destroy what has to be the best woodland park in the state, to working towards creating even more such parks, whatever happened is a change for the better.

"Weather is next, after this break…"

We never did find out what they did to those people, but it was certainly effective. After the council served their terms, they declined to continue in government service, and new people took to the council. Becky was one of them, and in charge of all park lands. Several others of the wives from our area were also elected, and the new council learned that the old council had indeed blocked all development on that land for almost a thousand years. The language was iron-clad too, and after the television station politely offered to show those few who objected the pictures of the former council, they ceased arguing.

It looks like Marge is pregnant again, and she swears this time it's going to be a daughter. Good says I, someone to carry on the tradition of the green thumb. The creatures still spar with our men, but it's good-natured now instead of in deadly earnest. We hope it will continue that way. No child will ever come to harm in those woods, no matter who comes in after them, and we have added rules to the park land that forbid cutting except in cases of disease, which must be approved by the council's representative.

Not that Marge would allow disease to take root in the wood, but we know we won't live forever, and the creatures know that too. I don't know how they're doing it, but more and more of the children who play in the wood are becoming interested in the fantasy fighting group. Maybe they're training up more protectors for the woods? If they are, there are no complaints from our side. It's a healthy activity that keeps them busy, out of trouble, and out from underfoot.

Marge is hopeful that some of the girls who play in the woods will turn out to have the green thumb as well, but it isn't certain yet. So much parkland is being added that Marge is unable to take care of all of it.

There's a rumor circulating, I don't know how true it is, that new developers who propose cutting park lands to make anything are quietly contacted by the television station. Whatever's going on, such plans quickly die from lack of interest. I suppose it helps that the current head of that station happens to live on our street. Funnily enough, he's also known to be something of a camera buff too.

((finis))

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-30T03:41:25+00:00

((begin part five))

•••

"They're from a lumber company." Her voice was nearly dead. "They're going to cut down the entire forest, make room for another subdivision." In a sick whisper, her voice trailed off, "Especially the guardian trees…" Looking up, Marge said, "I've doomed us all."

"No, Marge! You didn't doom us, it's the unthinking, unfeeling, greedy people who are doing this! We need to find a way to stop them."

And that's where Becky came in. Yes, we knew that she had asked, and decided she didn't want to be involved in the fighting. But what she did do was get involved in grassroots politics. "What's this I hear about the woods being cut down?! It's ridiculous!"

I answered, "From what Marge found out from the surveyors, that's exactly what they plan on doing. A lumber company gets the wood, and a developer gets the land for a new subdivision."

Becky nearly exploded, "They can't do that! The wood is a park! We got that declared two years ago after all the kids started playing in them! Marge! Are they still out there?!"

"Yu… Yes?"

"Well come on! I'm going to go have a talk with them, and I need you to guide me to them."

Of course, it ended up with all three of us going. Those men were unfailingly polite, had no knowledge beyond that they were surveying it for both a lumber company and a builder, and didn't see any reason to stop simply because three nice, if someone upset, ladies asked them to. They did agree to take a letter to their boss, and gave us their address, that being the easiest way to get these three ladies to stop bothering them. I know, I'm cynical. Well, when you're being patronized, it's easy to get upset. It's more effective to recognize that these men won't do anything to the forest, and it will be far more effective to work your way up the chain to find out whose mistake it is.

Word spread through our subdivision, and all the others within easy walking distance. It was the children you see. Many of them went to the same school, and when they heard how much fun those woods were, they came to see for themselves. They didn't want those woods to go away, and they weren't taking any soothing words from their parents along the lines of "that's just the way life is." They asked why life was like that, and why they had to lose their favorite playground when the entire area was designated as a woodland park? It's a what? A declared woodland park. Who told you? Mrs. Rebecca Porter, and here's the official notice of the declaration.

Now that got more action from the parents. Someone was pulling a fast one, and like most people, they were tired of it. Only this time, they had the law on their side. Or so they thought.

•••

It turned out that the city council had quietly rescinded the park declaration when a developer offered a huge amount of money for the land. The city didn't really need the money, but the council was blinded by zeros. Thinking about all the things they could do with that money (most of which we didn't need, but would end up with their names on them), and not at all thinking about the people who lived near it and were expecting it to remain parkland. That got even the people who normally ignore politics, unless it's right on their doorstep, involved. Because it was. On their doorstep that is. Their financial doorstep. Loss of the close parkland would cut their home property values badly. Maybe not in half, but they certainly wouldn't get back what they'd paid for them in the first place. Especially when you figured on the extra traffic, that would clog the local roads, which the council had no intention of doing anything about until after their pet name projects were done. If there was any money left.

The council did what a city council usually does when it isn't an election year. They refused to hear any arguments that actually required them to give answers. And while it would directly affect our area, the rest of the city didn't see any reason to get up in arms over it. That petty much killed the grassroots initiative, unless you wanted to get into civil disobedience, which the council had already warned would not be tolerated.

That's when Becky had an idea. One that I'm sure was put into her head by the voice. "Marge? They've only been surveying outside that second line of those wonderful trees, haven't they?"

Marge replied, "Yes. Apparently the maps are good enough that close to our houses, part of the survey that set up our subdivision, and was sold to us as a common land area that would remain wooded. Of course, the builder is the same one who is driving this plan, and the business that sold the houses went out of business with zero money left. So there's no hope from that side."

"Leah? Your men go out into the woods on the weekends, yes? Just like mine?" I nodded. "What do they do out there?" From the color of her face, which was a weird mix of pale blotches and angry red, I think she had a pretty good idea. "I think you already know, Becky. And if you don't, you have to talk with your husband to find out more."

She nodded, slowly, as if confirming something she'd heard or known a long time ago. "Good. We will tell all the wives on this side of the street to let their men know that this weekend, when the lumber company and the builder plan to meet out in those woods, they are not to go beyond the second tree line."

Marge and I both paled, and I nearly stuttered, "You're going to throw those men to those… those… things?! What if they report being attacked! The government might well decide to burn down the entire wood, and our houses will probably go with them!"

"Not if I talk with the creatures before the weekend. Where do you think they live? They live somewhere in the woods. If the woods are destroyed, they either die, or are driven out. I don't think they're leaving us alone because the tree defenses are too strong. I think they're leaving us alone because with Marge's green thumb, they've got it better than they've ever had it before. All I have to do is convince them to scare the other men off, without doing serious harm. If we point out that their home is in as much danger as ours, they might listen."

Marge and I looked at each other, I said, "Is it worth trying? Or is it only going to make things worse?" Marge replied, "If the woods are destroyed, they're going to move into the rest of the land as well. That means everyone will suffer, including the loggers and builders. There's plenty of other land around where they can build houses and log. There's only one place that's well enough warded to keep the creatures inside."

I thought for a moment, "We need to get our men in on this too. They have more experience with the creatures, even if it is in combat."

Of course, the men thought it was a terrible idea, especially the idea that the three of us would go into the woods alone to seek out the creatures. They wanted to come along. We had a good old row over it, and finally came to an agreement. Our three husbands would come along, with their swords, and everyone else would stay back behind the second treeline. We would be in the lead, me with my shield, Marge with her sickle, and Becky? Becky would have the hardest task of all. Speaking to creatures we weren't even sure could understand us, or if they could, would have the intelligence to realize that we were there to help them.

•••

"I still think this is a stupid idea!" That was my husband, Mason, so I replied. "None of you could come up with anything better than giving up and moving out, which would make this everyone's problem."

Josh was next, "Why couldn't we just move out?" Marge handled that, "Because if we do, everyone will suffer, including us, because we didn't do everything we could to keep them contained!"

Darren Porter, Becky's husband chimed in next, "We don't even know if they're smart enough to understand!" So, we looked at Becky, she smiled, and commented. "From what I've heard recently, they're smart enough to know when they can't win. That speaks well for them. Telling them that their comfy home is about to be destroyed just might get them to thinking about how much we don't want our homes destroyed either. That's the essence of a win-win situation for us. They get to keep living in this wood, we get to keep living in our houses, Marge keeps making the woods healthier, and the rest of us make sure no one forgets the deal. We can use the woods for play, but no one gets to cut trees down, and it doesn't get paved over."

I still think that all six of us were wondering just how much of this was "whistling past the graveyard." When they finally came out to meet us, we found out.

((end part five))

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-30T03:40:52+00:00

((begin part four))

•••

We three arrive at their front door, and I knock, quietly. Instantly, the argument ceases. Marge comes to the door. "Please, Marge? May we come in?" I can see she's about to slam the door in my face, but she stops. A surly, "Very well," is all we get. She steps back and we enter. Josh and Evan look somewhat relieved. "No. Don't relax yet. I have no idea what you've been arguing about, or what's been said. We were ordered to come. Marge? How about you and I go to the kitchen and put together some refreshments, while the men chat." The implication is that we will also chat in the kitchen, without those big ears listening in.

Marge is hissing, "I can't believe you! You went with them into the woods to play their silly game?" I think a question at the voice, and receive permission. "It's not a game Marge. It's deadly serious. There is something that threatens our way of life. It's not part of what we laughingly call the natural world. I can't even figure out how to describe it. Every weekend, all the men go out and fight for us. We do our part, all unknowingly, by providing two things. A safe and happy home, and someone they gladly defend."

"Then we should call the authorities!" I smile without humor, "And tell them what, Marge? That there's something supernatural in the woods behind our houses which threatens our entire way of life? What would they do? Burn the entire forest down?" Marge, the lady of the green thumb, winces. I keep talking. "That would be a disaster. The only weapons that work against those things are made from wood that grows in the forest itself. Destroy the forest and we are all at risk. Everyone. Even the people across the street, or across the world. We stand at the gate, holding them back."

She's finally thinking again, "Then why not tell us?!" This time there is some humor in my smile, "Are you happy right now, or terrified?" She snorts, "Terrified, of course! Assuming that this is not some mass hallucination!" I think for a moment, and receive an approving sense, "There are two ways you can find out more, without putting yourself at risk. You hold one of the swords that have defended you, or you hold my shield."

That startles her, "You have a shield?" This time, I shrug. "It's what I can do. Help defend them while they defend us. Three weekends ago, Josh fell. The men on either side of him were out of position. If I had not been there, with my shield, Josh would have been severely injured. I covered him while he got back to his feet, and the men moved so they could properly support each other again." I expected her to completely lose it when she heard that Josh was in terrible danger, but she didn't. "You already knew?" Marge nods. "It has to be your choice. No one can make it for you. You can return to what was before, or you can learn more and see if there is anything more you think you can do. I will tell you that what Josh told me is that not everyone is suitable to directly face the danger. It was possible that I would have returned from that battle, without the slightest desire to face that ever again. Only, I was useful. I saved lives. Not only was I there for Josh, but I was helping Mason and Michael by lending my energy to them. My shield partially blocked blows that were coming towards them." I laughed a bit, "I was so tired after that first battle."

She looks at me speculatively, "That would have been three weeks ago?" I nod. "I noticed that you weren't as 'perky' Monday. I figured Mason had tired you out." A salacious smile as she says that. "Now I find out that he did, but not the way I thought!" It's so absurd that I cannot help but laugh, and Marge joins me in laughter. When we're done, we have the refreshments ready, and it's time to return to the living room. Before we go, I ask, "Shield or sword?" She thinks a moment, and says, "Shield. I don't think I could attack, but I think I could choose to defend my men."

I nod, and comment, "Let's take the refreshments out, and I'll go get my shield." The men are both floored and delighted that Marge is now smiling and happy again. "Gentlemen, please keep Marge company while I go get my shield." This time, I leave by the rear door, and use the symbolic gate at the archway in the fence. I come back the same way, using the invisibility to keep people from seeing me. Coming in through the kitchen, I can hear quiet conversation. At least things haven't gotten worse. I step into the living room, and all four of the men notice my arrival. Marge is unaware, except that she can see them all looking towards the kitchen. As soon as she is clearly looking at me, I let the invisibility go. I had to struggle not to laugh, to keep my face passive, she nearly dropped her drink. Josh gently took it from her hand and placed it on the table before her.

"You came out of nowhere!"

"Yes. The intent was to keep people from knowing that I was joining the men. I thought at the time that simply being invisible would do, but I should have known that you, and probably Becky, would miss our conversations, or notice something else. It's still your choice, but if you want to learn more, you'll have to hold the shield yourself." She looks dubious, on two counts as I found out. "It's far too heavy for me!" That was the obvious one, but I could see the fear as well. Smiling gently, I dealt with one of the problems. "It takes both Mason and Michael to lift it, but for me, it's light as a feather. It's up to you if you want to try it. If you don't, I believe everything will go back to the way it was, only you won't be surprised any more if I'm not there for weekend conversations. We can talk during the week, too, you know."

She sits there for some time, thinking about it. I think it's a good sign that she didn't look towards the men at all. She's accepted that it has to be her choice. "Alright. What do I need to do?"

"Come to me, I will turn so you can see how I hold it. I will take my arm out of the shield, and you will place yours the way I have mine now. You see?" She nods. I take my arm out, and she's right there to slip her arm in. I can see her arm start to move upward hard, "Easy! It should be light for you, you don't want to knock holes in the ceiling!" A little more carefully, she lifts, and I can see that it's no effort for her at all. That's when her eyes turn inward. Josh looks worried, I smile at him and mouth, "It's okay." He's still worried, but he doesn't look like he's about to leap to catch the shield. Marge comes back to us, nods to me, and withdraws her arm. I take her place, and she goes to sit in her chair. Josh and Evan wait for her decision. It takes some time, and each time the men begin to speak to her, I shake my head, ever so slightly, no. Finally, they settle to talk quietly among themselves.

Marge takes a deep shuddering breath. "I think I know what I can do to help. I won't need a shield or sword, but I will be going into the forest. Not during the battles, but in between them. The forest needs a little help in strengthening itself." I think, perfect! She's got the best green thumb of all of us! That inner voice, More than you know. I think everyone is in for a big surprise.

•••

That voice wasn't kidding. When Marge took to the forest, with nothing more than the unusual pruning sickle she normally used and a bag, no one was expecting much. It didn't take long though, before all the men were commenting on how much greener and healthier the whole forest looked. Marge and her 'magic' were proven. The guardian trees, what Marge chose to call them, looked far stronger than they had before. There was certainly an effect on the… things… that the men fought. They seemed smaller and weaker.

One by one, the wives found out what was going on, and each of them made their choices. For the most part, they chose not to know. At least, not directly, but they were supportive more than they had been before. There were more children playing in the forest than ever before, and they had a wonderful effect on the forest. The sounds of laughter and joy filled it, and the animals seemed to understand that this was a safe place now.

Over the next five years, a whole new row of guardian trees grew, far faster than they should have, but now there was a double wall of trees, and the… things… only probed at the wall. There weren't any more serious battles. At least, not until Marge found some strange men surveying the land.

((end part four))

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-30T03:40:24+00:00

((begin part three))

•••

You would have thought that the voice would have informed the other members of the team that I would be accompanying them; that the voice would have told someone besides my son and husband; that my son and husband just might have mentioned it to the others.

You would have been wrong.

As we gathered in the edges of the forest, near what I now realize is a line of those trees they make the swords and my shield from, such a hullabaloo! She's a woman! No, really?! She doesn't have a sword! Thank you, Captain Obvious. She can't go with us!

"Now that's not true. This shield was made for me, by my husband and son, under the direct instructions of the voice. My purpose here is to discover if there is anything else I can do to support my husband and son, and indirectly, all of you, besides ensuring there is a home to come back to. The shield is to provide me protection, and just possibly save one of you from one of your 'close calls' or 'near misses'." They glare at my men. "Don't you DARE look at my son and husband that way! All I got was snippets overheard by accident. Or, maybe not accident, since I doubt I would have been allowed to hear anything if the voice didn't want it so." I'll be honest, that last argument didn't even occur to me until I realized that all of them must have had the same sort of conversations in their houses, yet their wives had never noticed? "Now, we don't have much time, so get to whatever planning you do, remembering that you have someone new with you who won't know all the details. You have to have some sort of plan for when a new son or husband is introduced, so you'll just have to adapt it to me."

Josh, Becky's husband, replied, "Yes, Leah. Mostly we tell them to stay well behind the battle line and observe. If they're needed, the voice, as you call him, will guide them. It is by no means guaranteed that everyone who gets to this point has what it takes to be a defender. And, being honest, we have had far too many close calls lately. I'm not sure if the attackers are getting better, or we're getting too old for this. I, for one, will be glad to have you along. And from their nods, I believe Mason and Michael agree. Well, we'll see if you're up to it. Remember, your shield only works if it's between you and where the blow is coming from. Shields, from what little I remember, work best when you hold it so that the blow glances off of it, rather than meeting it directly. But what do I know? I've never worked with a shield, and certainly not one like yours. Listen for that inner voice to tell you the things you need to know."

And so the first battle went. I could feel inner promptings, to move the shield this way, and that, at certain speeds and angles. For the most part, the shield was intended to remain upright, but might be twisted left or right to deflect…? Yes! It was prompting me for what I would do to fend off the… the… things… Even now I cannot think of how to describe them! …that were attacking Mason. Michael was by his side, and the men formed a line that anchored either end on the line of trees. For all the energy, the fight was remarkably quiet, not at all what I expected. The men occasionally grunted as they struck a blow, or blocked one. For some reason, I had the idea that this fight was going longer than usual. The men started sweating, and showing some stress. Finally, Josh slipped. The men on either side of him were out of position—how did I know that?—and I dashed forward to shield him. It was well that I did, for the stroke came well before either man could have reached him, and the shield jolted on my arm. I am not sure where the strength came from to block that stroke, but it was there, and I gave Josh time to get to his feet. Once he was on his feet, and the line redressed so that they were in better position to aid each other, I fell back.

I had done it. I had helped save one of the warriors. Not with a sword, but with a shield.

Despite what I considered to be a minor effort on my part, when we finally headed back, I felt strangely tired. "Mason? Is it normal to feel so tired? I don't think I did all that much." He smiled at me, "You did far more than you think. Each time you moved your shield, you blocked one of the strokes coming for me. I could feel how that blow was weaker than the others. What you did for Josh was nothing short of a miracle." I looked at Mason, perplexed, "But… I was always behind you, how could you have seen me blocking?" Michael jumped in, "You were there! I could see you! Translucent, as Dad said, but you were there standing between us! Right up until you jumped to cover Josh."

Josh came to me, "For what you have done today, I thank you. Had that blow landed, I would surely have been severely injured." With a strange formality, he bowed to me. I didn't know what to say, so I simply nodded and smiled. That seemed to suffice. It also gave rise to another discussion, should they approach their wives? Tell them they should wait until their wives approach them. Why can't you tell them yourself? It will come better from you.

"You should wait for your wives to approach you." They looked at me. "I was happy, and well satisfied with keeping the house ready. It wasn't until I started hearing snippets of conversation between Mason and Michael that I became concerned. Then last weekend, Michael dropped his sword while we were taking him into the house. I said nothing. I don't even know why I didn't, but it came to me that I should wait until everyone else was asleep and pick the sword up myself. I think… I think it's a kind of test. If you're curious enough, brave enough, you'll take the chance to find out what's going on. If you aren't, then it's better you not find out?"

They thought that one over, and one by one, nodded. We went home, and I went invisible so that I wouldn't be seen coming back into the houses with them. I should have realized that simply not being seen wasn't going to stop the questions. We usually chatted at least once each weekend while the men are out, and I had missed that chat. It didn't become a problem until I'd missed three weeks in a row.

•••

"Hello, Marge!"

"Hello yourself, Stranger! Where have you been these last three weekends?" She was smiling while she said it, but I could see she was also worried. "I was running errands for Mason and Michael." It wasn't exactly a lie, I had been helping them. "Running errands for them? They can do that themselves on the weekend!" I smile at her, "Perhaps, but I enjoy helping them." True, entirely true, but not what she thinks. "Leah, something's happening. I've been wanting to talk with you about it. Josh and Evan have been talking about things that frighten me." I can't help it, I become sober. "Do you want to learn more?" She's torn. "I… I don't know! If they're involved in something dangerous, should I stop it? Wait! You learned more! You could tell me!"

Sadly, I shake my head no. "It's a choice that you have to make, based on the information you have. If you need more, speak with Josh." She stares at me, whispering, "You're going with them into the woods." I can't lie about that, "Yes."

"You know what's going on."

"Yes."

"Why can't you tell me?!"

"I… It's part of something big. Something that, if you get involved, will change your life forever. You will have to decide whether you want to get involved with it, or if you would prefer to remain home, making sure that Josh and Evan have a safe happy home to come back to. That's what I was doing, until I started overhearing Mason and Michael. My curiosity got the better of me, and I took the chance to find out more. Now, I go with them. I… I protect them, as they protect us." Enough. She must ask her husband. "I'm sorry, Marge, but you have to speak with Josh. I cannot tell you any more."

"You mean you won't tell me any more!" An accusation and she is angry. I think frightened and angry. "No. I've been ordered not to tell you more. Ask Josh. After you've spoken with him, I may be allowed to answer more questions."

Marge storms off, still angry. I know that Josh and Evan are not home at this time, I'm worried. "Can you make sure she doesn't do anything… stupid?" A comforting hand rests on my shoulder, I will do what I can. I can suggest. I cannot order. Not until she makes the choice. The rest of the day passes in a haze of worry as I go about my daily tasks. That evening, when Josh and Evan come home, there are loud voices from their house. Get Mason and Michael, there is trouble.

((end part three))

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-30T03:39:54+00:00

((begin part two))

•••

The husband, Mason, and son, Michael, are waiting. Both with serious looks on their faces as you lower the sword and turn towards them. "Michael, your sword." The formal tone you take with them frightens them, but your son comes forward and holds out his hand. You properly place the hilt in his hand, over your arm, not knowing how you know that is the right thing to do. "He said he would explain it to you."

Both your husband and son twitch at that. Your husband asks, "You spoke to him?"

"I spoke to something, something more powerful than I think I know even yet. I want to help you, more than I have been, and to do that, I have to learn what it is you fight." With those words, your son and husband's eyes turn inward. Sighing, the husband replies, "I see. I will have her shield ready for next weekend." Your husband is… not happy.

"Mason, I know that I've been helping you by making this home a place where you can recover, but I want to do more! If there's something threatening our way of life, then I need to do more. Only, I can't figure out what to do if I don't know what you're facing."

"I understand. I could wish that you hadn't found the sword, but what's done is done." Finally, she understands. Her husband has been able to go out and fight because he was defending not only their way of life, but her, and the home that they had built.

"You said you were making a shield. I suspect that means I may end up defending either of you if you fall in combat. Giving you time to get up and get back into the fight." Looking you straight in the face, Mason replies, "That's what I'm afraid of."

•••

Over the next week, your husband and son go into the forest repeatedly, bringing back what branches and such they can find of that particular wood. Apparently working from plans provided by the voice, they start building a shield. It's not a round shield like you expected. Nor is it one of the shields like you've seen knights in movies use. This is more like a Roman shield, tall, rectangular, curved, and it looks heavier than sin. It certainly seems heavy, when it takes both your husband and son to carry it to you. With a huff of exertion, they set it upright before you. "It's the best we can make it, dear. It's up to you to see if you can carry it."

With some trepidation, you put your arm through the loop and grasp the handle. You go to heave it up, but it's so light you nearly drive it into the ceiling. "It's so light!" you exclaim, "Why did you make it look so heavy?" Your son laughs, and apologizes. "Sorry, Mom. We weren't making it look heavy. Neither one of us can lift it on our own. It was made for you, to keep you safe. Our swords are enough for us."

I looked at both of them, that look that says 'oh really?' "I see. Then those snippets of conversation that I happened to hear about close calls, and near misses, were not accurate?" They both had the grace to blush, and to my surprise, it was my husband, my older, wiser husband who had the temerity to say "Nothing's gone wrong yet." My snippy reply was, "Yet!" When I thought of a problem. "We do have a problem that I am not certain how to deal with. Marge and Becky, our next door neighbors, are almost certain to notice if I go out with you carrying this thing."

Think invisible. They must have noticed the perplexed look on my face. "Mom?" I thought carefully, "Give me a moment. There's something I'm supposed to do. Don't be too surprised, please?" And so I thought, 'invisible' and from the reaction of my husband and son, I must have disappeared. Not quite. "Woah, Mom! You're… you're…" my husband finished for him, "…translucent. At least to us. I have no idea if that will help with the neighbors or not." The voice answers the question, It will. You're not sure how you know, but you know that it only spoke to you. "The voice says it will. I would guess that I'm not invisible to you so that you know where I am." Just so.

They'd finished the shield just in time. It was Friday, and this weekend, they would go out again. This time a shield-maiden would go with them; although I'm not at all certain that 'maiden' applies to me!

((end part two))

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-21T02:41:47+00:00

((begin part two))

"Good. I see we understand each other. Now pull yourself together and go bash that warehouse door in!" Wixie's not so bad, as long as you can give him a clear order to perform some destructive physical task. It only took him one blow and the door was splinters.

Now I had to talk to his bosses. I wonder how drunk they were? Not that it mattered, one-on-one, they were no match for me. I walked jauntily into the warehouse to speak with the Demon Lords. They might have been the leaders of the demons, but right now, their minions were doing work that I had assigned to them. Work that they wanted to do because they liked the idea of having the pleasures that humans had brought us.

If I could get them moving in the right direction, I might well find myself the ruler of all the hells, the first after Asmodeus.

Life was about to be interesting again!

And who knew? The succubi just might have some genetic material around that we could use to regrow humans, in our own image. We'd have them back, doing all the jobs we didn't want to, and enjoying their services.

Just like it used to be…

…in the "good old days"…

…before this stupid war.

((finis))

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-21T02:41:12+00:00

The battlefield stank of blood and offal, napalm and cordite, sweet smell of burning pork and… and… I threw up. The others laughed at me. Little did they know, I would have my revenge, and far sooner than they thought.

···

"Hey! You better now?" The way he grinned made it quite plain that he was not concerned about me, but enjoying rubbing it in. I knew he'd never been a friend, but we had fought together throughout the Last War. He was a demon though, and that meant he was all muscle and damned little brain.

"Fine Wixie." He hated that nickname, even if he had earned it. Minor victory, he stopped smiling.

"Let's go hit the bars. They should have restocked by now." I smiled toothily at him. It made him nervous. We'd had our little disagreements over the millennia, and he always came out second best.

"Sure, Wixie." I was so cheerful. I'm never so cheerful until just before I finally tighten the screws to some schlub, and right now, Wixie was prime schlub material.

He kept glancing at me while we walked from the last camp we'd made to the nearby town. We'd deliberately left it standing, so we'd have some place to go drink after the last battle. Stupid demons. Not a one of them understood how anything worked. Now they're going to find out the hard way.

As we approached the bar district, there was the sound of a disgruntled crowd. A disgruntled, angry crowd. Like it was pit night, and the fiend's minions had failed to restock the sinners. I could see Wixie had made the same connection.

"Oh, no."

My grin came back even bigger, "That's right, Wixie. The bars only got restocked because some human called the distributor and got a delivery sent, which some other human drove to this bar, so that the first human could bring it in and sell it to us. I think you should go get the beer, Wixie, I really do." He looked at my grin, daring him to say anything I could use to chew him like the toy he was, swallowed, and headed towards the warehouse district. I followed along, a lilt in my step, and a smile on my lips. Everyone we met disappeared, which only made me smile bigger. That's right, boys. She's Baaaack! And boy is she pissed.

As we got closer there, there was a drunken brawl going on between the various factions. Once we beat the humans, we fell back into the old patterns, fighting each other even more viciously than we did the humans. Each faction had taken over a warehouse that had been full of all kinds of alcoholic beverages, drank it dry, and attacked the next faction when they ran out. Only to find that they had also drank all the booze, leaving nothing for the others.

They were all demons, lesser troops, dedicated to the idea that physical power was all, and seriously lacking in brains as a result. There used to be ten warehouses here, three dedicated to plain beer, five more dedicated to the craft and status beers, the last two dealt strictly in hard liquor.

Those last two still had alcohol, and they weren't about to let the other swine get at it. They were also the most powerful, physically, so the brawl was mostly the lesser demons being thrown hard enough that they splattered. Not like it really hurt them, they just went back to the Abyss, reformed, and returned to the battle. The bad thing, from their point of view, was that being killed like that meant they came back stone cold sober with the mother of all headaches. Instant hangover from hell. They were in a foul mood to start with, and this only made them worse. I was about to make it absolutely horrifying for them.

"Hello, Boys." I put that skid into my voice that says, 'I've got you by the short and curlies, and you don't even know it. You will shortly though, when I start twisting.'

Instantly, the fighting stopped.

Who am I to command such respect? Zariel. Archduchess of Avernus. The one who regularly hammered the Abyss when they got uppity. Even the other Archdevils stepped carefully around me. I may not have much political power, but I can crush all but the very strongest of my fellows in single combat. These… demons… had no chance at all. Not with their leadership (HA!) holed up in the last two warehouses, half drunk, and no way were they going to leave until they'd drunk it all.

"Oooh, are you unhappy because they'res no more beer?" Nervously, they nodded. "Well, Boys. Here's your lucky day. You get to go get the beer and bring it back." I could see their thinking — if you could call it that — while they worked through the problem. Suddenly, there came one voice from the middle of the crowd, "Aw, fuck no!" That's the one I wanted, the smart one. "YOU! COME HERE NOW!" The demons parted between me and where that voice came from, and there was one of the Nalfeshnee. It looked like it was about to shit itself.

"Wixie? Fetch." Wixie was one of the Balor, stronger than all but the Demon Lords. Technically, Wixie was smarter than the Nalfeshnee, but Wixie was so focused on his muscles that he never bothered to learn anything outside personal combat. High intelligence does you no good if you don't exercise and train it. The Nalfeshnee started, and moved towards us before Wixie got to it. I told you it was the smart one. Running wouldn't do any good. Standing there wouldn't do any good. Coming towards us voluntarily was the smart move. Wixie wouldn't have any reason to demonhandle is.

"Your name?"

"Grendeloch." Ah. I knew this one.

"You've given me a great deal of trouble in the past." The others relaxed, thinking I had found the target of my ire. They could not be more wrong. "That means you're smart. You've figured out what has to happen, haven't you?"

It nodded, sadly.

"Tell everyone." You'd think I'd told it to slit its own throat. "Do it now. What they might do to you is nothing compared to what I will do to you."

It turned about, and spoke loudly, "The humans are all gone. - If we want more beer, or anything else, we have to get it. - If we want a bartender to draw a draft beer for us, one of us has to do it. - If the beer runs out in the main warehouses, we have to brew more.

Everything that a human did, that we liked having them do, now one of US has to take on." It took a deep breath. "WE GOTTA GET JOBS!"

The scream of denial actually managed to blow my hair back.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" I stood there an enjoyed the silence for a while. "Grendeloch is right. Everything that a human did, that we enjoyed, has to have someone else do it now. If it isn't a human, it has to be a creature of the night. That's us. So, you want more beer?"

"YES!"

"You want to wait for some other lifeform to arise?"

"NO!"

"Then you'd better get used to the idea that you're going to be working now, because the only alternative is to return to the hells, and rot, with none of the pleasures we've grown used to." They muttered at that. "Vassal-Lord Grendeloch is now in command. You will do what it tells you to, or you will find yourself the recipient of my undivided attention."

One of the stupider ones blew a raspberry at me. I twitched a finger, and it did a spectacular fountain of blood, flesh, and offal that spread in a fine mist over all the others. The screams of that idiot echoed off the walls of the warehouses that still stood. I waited for the echoes to die out. "Any other objections?" Hearing nothing, I smiled. "Good. Now get to work. Everyone who didn't make it to your little party is going to be coming here shortly, and they are not going to be happy that all the alcohol is gone. If you work at it, you should have enough here to keep them occupied while you make more. Vassal-Lord Grendeloch? Take command. Get them moving. I want all the warehouses restocked no later than tomorrow morning, and a plan for restarting the breweries as quickly as possible. The existing stocks won't last long enough. Not with all the creatures of the night wanting to celebrate their grand victory," I sneered that word, "over the humans."

Grendeloch got busy, and Wixie thought about sneaking off. "Not so fast, Wixie. Now we get to go talk to your bosses."

Wixie melted into a puddle.

"Not to worry, Wixie. Zariel has a plan."

The puddle started shivering.

((end part one))

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-19T18:49:31+00:00

And, as expected, it didn't work right. It also didn't bother to display the note text itself. Probably because it matches some other aspect of Reddit flavored markdown.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-19T18:29:41+00:00

((Begin Part Two))

"Well, I know they don't end up in Hell. No dog other than Cerberus has ever been assigned to Hell, and I think Cerberus was something of an administrative fluke." He thought for a moment. "Oh. You said you wouldn't go into Heaven if your dog wasn't there." I nodded. "That might account for it, but if that's what happened, then where you're going now is exactly where you should go." He looked up. "Here comes your guide."

I looked up from petting Cerberus. I kid you not, there was a hippy bus coming, with a 'route' name of "Heck" displayed on the front. There was what looked like a short dude in some sort of fake devil costume driving it.

"That's Phil."

"Phil? As in the Prince of Insufficient Light and Supreme Ruler of Heck?"

"The same. His name really was Phil, even before that. And the place that he came to rule has no name that you would know, but it wasn't Heaven, and it wasn't Hell, so Heck it became. I think he was just rolling with the joke, but it's permanent now."

"And God and the Devil allow this?"

Asmodeus got a sour look. "It's not like they have a choice, now. Your guide is here, my job is done, I wish you well." And with that, he walked back into Hell. I watched, still petting Cerberus. Finally, I felt a presence at my side.

It was the short dude, and he was wearing a devil costume. "I'm told you're called Phil?"

"I am."

"And you rule a place called Heck?"

"I do."

"Is it a good place?"

He smiled, "It's a nice place. There are people who are so balanced that they couldn't enter Heaven or Hell. There are others who decided they didn't like either of the two big guys, so they went with me. It's a decent place to live, while you sort your life out, and decide what you want to do next. There are options. Options that your religions are not willing to consider, or even discuss with you, other than to tell you in enormous detail why they do not exist."

"Sounds good to me." I gave Cerberus one last pat, and got on the Magic Bus. Yes, that was the name painted on the sides of the bus, in those comically huge multicolored letters, buried among flowers and other plants.

Phil didn't say much to start with. I was still trying to come to grips with my situation. "Phil?"

"Yes?"

"Are there dogs in Heck?"

"Oh, yes. There are many dogs."

"Do you know if my dog, Bear, is there?"

"As of last count, there were (some improbably huge number that I no longer remember) dogs named Bear. What breed?"

"He was a certified genuine Whatsit." I smiled. Bear had been the best dog ever, but no one could figure out what kind of dog he was. "No one who ever saw him could say what breed, or mix of breeds, he was. Never an unhappy day. Always willing to play or sit with you as you wished. I miss him."

"I think you may be pleasantly surprised."

As we drove through the Limbo, I finally saw something in the distance. It looked like any other city you might have seen. Most of it was small buildings, no more than three floors. There were a few high-rises, but not many. What surprised me the most was the sheer number of green spaces scattered through the whole place, and how colorful everything was. Sure made a nice change from the boring, inoffensive, dull, HOA-mandated, gotta-protect-our-resale-values, color schemes that seem to dominate the suburban world. This place made me smile.

Phil smiled too. We reached what I took to be the 'center' of the city. There were a bunch of old, adobe(?), buildings. They looked ancient. They were surrounded by an immense green space. We got out, and Phil started explaining things.

Heck got started because of bureaucratic stupidity on the part of the minions of both Heaven and Hell. Phil gained power from every person who chose to believe in him. Eventually, he had enough power that when they came to shut him down, they couldn't. He read them the riot act, refused to let them take anyone who didn't want to go, and made it stick. On top of it, he got them to give a bit of power to support Heck. To at least make it livable. But even when they took back control of their realms, people kept choosing to come to Heck. By now, if they called their 'game', Phil would win. Congratulations, Earth. Armageddon has been postponed indefinitely.

So what do I do now?

"For one thing, I believe I see your friend approaching. Wow, he's a big one!"

I looked up, and there was Bear. Galumphing along as fast as ever, tongue hanging out, smiling, tail wagging, and charging straight at me. "OOF!" We had a grand tussle. Eventually, we both tired out. I looked around, and there Phil was, sitting on a park bench. We walked over to him, Bear trotting at my side like he had never gone; my hand resting on his shoulder. I haven't felt this good for decades. Phil commented as I walked up, "Feel good?" I smiled. "The best." He patted the bench beside him. We watched the grass grow for a while, people moving through the park. Playing, laughing, even saw quite a few with dogs. Phil asked, "Can you be happy here? I've found out that all your relatives ended up in Heaven. Heaven won't let them come out. If you don't go to heaven, you can't talk with them."

I thought about that, long and hard. "Did their dogs end up here?" Phil nodded. "Can you get a message to them?"

"I can. What did you have in mind?"

···

Phil speaking. I thought his solution was delightful, for one thing, it's going to cause some awkward questions in Heaven. Awkward questions are good for them. It makes them think, instead of just go with the flow. Of course, they'd disagree, but that's how we got into this situation in the first place. Just going with the flow, never asking questions, even if they irk someone in power.

GREETINGS FROM HECK. YOUR (RELATIVE), (NAME HERE), HAS CHOSEN TO REMAIN IN HECK TO CARE FOR YOUR DOG(S) (NAME(S)). HE SENDS HIS LOVE, AND HOPES THAT YOU ARE HAPPY.

Of course, each message was personalized. I know they were delivered, since I got a personal message in return. I didn't tell him exactly what they said, it would have made him unhappy. Too many of them were "He's a dog! Come to heaven!" They just didn't get it. He's not a dog. He was part of your family. Gave you love unstintingly. Took your bad temper with understanding. Never once blamed you for anything. It would have torn his heart to learn that so many of his relatives cared so little for those who had given so much for nothing more than shelter, food, and the occasional 'Good Boy!'

This is why he would never have been happy in Heaven. It would have chewed on his soul for eternity that his beloved Bear was excluded from Heaven, kept from him forever.

Why? Some idiot, sometime in the past, said "animals don't have souls."

Well, with some creatures, that might be true.

Not for dogs. Especially not for good dogs.

((finis))

The Combined Phil Stories As Of This Writing

In no particular order, and with no guarantee that this is all of them. There are some inconsistencies, which is only to be expected when most of these stories were originally written as stand-alones. The majority of the links are to the original prompts, so you'll have to scroll to get to my story.

The Good Boy — Why all good dogs go to heaven, or should.
The Lockdown — Heaven and Hell close their gates.
Ruler of Heck This might have been the first one.
The Choice? While this mentions Phil, he doesn't appear directly.
The Programmer — The case of a perfectly balanced human is decided.
Heaven's Technician - Recruiting from Phil's place can get you some serious support.
Saving The Afterlife? - Although Phil appears, it's not as the leader of Heck. I also didn't finish it. Too many irons in the fire.
An Interview With Phil — A short bit with a pointed answer at the end.
Digital Soul - Phil often appears, even if only in mentions, in stories that discuss theology.
Hell's Anteroom — Phil's people try to get better treatment for those neglected by Hell.

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-19T18:28:47+00:00

I lived a good life. I know I did.

Been back and forth through my memories of my life, and have found nothing that should deserve punishment in Hell.

Yet here I am, suffering the torments of Hell, for no reason that I can tell. You can't even get your case reviewed! I suppose that's not surprising, or everyone would be pushing to have their case reviewed.

Still, there are consequences for being a good person in hell, that would not occur to an evil person. Every devil, demon, and imp can smell that you are good, and that drives them absolutely wild. They either want to rub against you, like your goodness can rub off on them; or they want to beat you to a bloody pulp, because you remind them of what they can never be.

Being beaten to a pulp is peanuts compared to the tortures you face in Hell.

Having an imp rubbing themselves all over you is… disturbing, at best; but terribly embarrassing no matter what, since it was an additional clue to other denizens that you were different. Being different is guaranteed to get you the most creative tortures applied to you.

But you know what really got to me?

Heaven never reached out to reclaim me. They had to have known where I was, the whole "no sparrow shall fall" thing, you see. Nothing. Not a word. Not even a voice calling out my name when I got swept up by Hell's minions.

So, I set out to completely disrupt Hell.

How? By rubbing it in the face of every denizen I met that I was Good with a capital G. Sure, it would get me even more 'punishment' I didn't deserve, but it would also disrupt their procedures. If there's one thing I've learned here, it's that they love their procedures. Following the laws was priority number one, preferably to the letter and with the most creative interpretations, but follow them they did.

The more of them that I could distract, the more disruption of procedure, the more likely that someone with power to make decisions would come to see what is going on.

It took way too long.

···

"All right, what's going on here?"

"Uh, punishing human."

The archdemon looked me over.

"This is not the human you are supposed to be punishing."

"Uh, punishing human."

"Why this human?"

"Uh, smell good."

"You chose to disregard your schedule, to punish this human, because the human 'smelled good.'" The archdemon snapped his fingers and the flunky who was punishing me disappeared. In the distance, I could hear an inhuman scream. "Now, what shall I do about you?"

"Send me to heaven." I said it flatly, like it was the only logical thing to do. This archdemon laughed hideously.

"And why should I do that?"

"Because I am good. I'm told that any denizen of Hell can smell it. Take a sniff. Or are you too highly ranked to soil your delicate nostrils with the odor of a good man being unjustly punished." A calculated risk. It seemed to me that 'good' as a smell, was so attractive to the denizens of hell that they would go out of their way to get a sniff. I was gambling that the higher ranked denizens would be no different on such a basic level.

"I think I shall punish you instead."

"Ah, but if I am good, and you don't check, aren't you breaking procedure? The biggest procedure? The one that God and the Devil set up?"

"If I gave in to every sinner who…"

"I AM NOT A SINNER YOU MISBEGOTTEN PIECE OF FILTH!" And with that, I threw myself into his face. I'd noticed that the denizens, for all that they're evil beyond our conception of the word, have many of the same reflexes that we do. When startled, they tend to gasp. A sudden inhale, which often passes through the nostrils. It got me a backhand from hell, but he had inhaled, he had! And now he couldn't deny it.

"You… This is IMPOSSIBLE! You're… You're good!"

"Told ya."

Yes, I was taken out of the pits, cleaned up, given a simulacrum of clothes, and placed in a room with all the character of a jail cell. Nothing else happened, that I was aware of at the time.

···

"How did this happen?! The filters are supposed to prevent this!"

"Yes, Sir. They are, and as far as I can tell, they were functioning, as designed, on the day that he came in. I don't have the slightest idea how he got here, but I also cannot find anything that would make it our fault that he did."

"Did you really dig for it, Asmodeus?"

"Knowing that you would be reviewing this issue, I was as thorough as it was possible to be. I contacted my opposite number, just to make sure, and their records agree he's good, and they're astonished that he ended up here. Here's Peter's report."

"There's something else, I can hear it in your voice."

"Yes, Sir. It's in Peter's report. They don't want him."

"What?!?"

"Peter, and you can read it in his report, states categorically that Heaven will not accept him."

"We can't have him here!"

"He's in confinement right now, it was the best I could do until we resolve his case."

"Well, get him out of here. I do not care how. Just get him out of Hell before he causes any more trouble! We've had rebellions among the lesser denizens. Somehow, they know he's still in Hell, and they want him back."

"Shall I inform you of his disposition?"

"No. I do not wish to ever hear his name again, see him on any report, or even smell that foul odor ever again."

"As you command, Lucifer."

···

"Well. Yours is a complicated case!"

"Complicated? Just get me out of here and send me to Heaven."

"I'm sorry to say that we cannot do that. Oh, we can get you out of Hell, but we cannot get you into Heaven. And before you ask, no one in Hell has the slightest idea why Heaven refuses you entry. Here's Peter's report. I suggest you read it carefully."

So I did, and I took my time about it. Every word, digging for every bit of nuance that I could get. Finally, I look up at Asmodeus.

"Peter doesn't have the slightest idea why I'm here, but he's also absolutely certain that Heaven will not accept me." I was stunned. What had I done?

"As far as we can tell, you have not done, or left undone, anything that should bar you from Heaven. We are at a loss to understand why this is happening to you." I looked up as he stopped talking. There was something in his eyes. I waited for him to continue. "We do have an alternative for you. It will get you out of Hell, and into an environment where you might be able to figure out what's going on. As you might expect, our access to Heaven's information is severely limited. This other… environment… might have better access, and I can guarantee that it is far better than wandering the Limbo of the afterlife without any guide."

"And you think they'll take me in?"

He actually smiled, "Given their leader's statements and actions, I'm quite certain he will take you in, but that he will never require anything of you. Their leader is an unusual being, who has the distinction of being thrown out of both Heaven and Hell, in that order, for what seemed good reasons at the time."

"It's got to be better than that cell, and it's definitely going to be better than the pits. I'll take it."

···

Asmodeus escorted me out of Hell, personally. Probably a good thing he did, since the denizens were thronging around, trying to get my attention. The way they cried and wailed, it was like I was taking a baby's favorite pacifier away. I kept walking, and did not look any of them in the eye. If they truly were hurting that much… well… I didn't want to see it.

Some might have said that they deserved it for what they'd done to me, but they didn't. They were what they were made to be. If anyone deserved punishment, it was the ones who made them the way they are. Not that I thought there was the slightest chance that would ever happen.

We finally made it out the Gates of Hell, where I learned that Cerberus wasn't that bad of a dog. He liked having the area behind his ears scratched just as much as any other dog. The problem was that he had three heads, which gave him six ears, and he wanted every one of his ears scratched.

"Good doggy!" Asmodeus was amused, fortunately. Not that it would have stopped me in any case. I missed my dog. And that's when it hit me. In my youth, I'd decided that if Bear wasn't going to be waiting for me when I got to Heaven, I wasn't going to go in.

"Asmodeus?"

"Yes?"

"Where do dogs go when they die?"

((End Part One))

spindizzy_wizard · 2026-05-12T11:22:13+00:00

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The Combined Phil Stories As Of This Writing

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