2008-12-18 (PreU) Destination Twisted Street

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Destination: Twisted Street

Summary: Truly the Apocalypse is nigh. Repent thy sins and prepare for judgement! Not only am I active and seemingly non-lazy, but Diablo and Emi are steppin' out...

Who: Emi, Senor_Diablo
When: December 13th, 2008
Where: The Heart of Destruction - Tiamat Street, The Waiting Room

Emi-icon.gifSenor Diablo-icon.gif

The information contained within this log is to be considered information gained Out of Character (OOC).
This information may not be used as In Character (IC) knowledge or in roleplay unless it has been learned in-game or permission has been granted by the parties involved.

Questions should be directed to staff.

The Heart of Destruction - Tiamat Street

The path to this spot is curious indeed. Among the seemingly endless, harshly jutting multitude of bridges, two awkwardly rise toward this distant corner - going on for miles until they are surrounded on three sides by forbidding rock. But the clumsiness ends as they curl gracefully inward; twin tails forming a stylised 's' about a rounded central platform of obsidian. It is wide, with ample space left to navigate this lofty perch.

At the platform's middle rises a set of narrow spiral steps, formed from some bizarre amalgam of ancient woods. Composed of alternating black and white steps around an ashen handrail, the staircase travels a full two dozen feet into the air before reaching its location... the real landmark of this spot. A giant shell, not only unnaturally large but covered in dark jutting spines, made yet stranger still by the effect as it rises toward the lurking ceiling of this impossibly immense cavern. The shell becomes transparent, the ends of those spines and the crowning tip itself all but completely invisible to the eye. As though this feature were not truly there; a ghost, a figment.

It would all be quite unnerving, if not for the calming sound of water. Off to the side of the forbidding shell - away from the thought of what creature may once have lain within - the rock wall warps and twists into thick knots of ice, clear and glistening. These quickly give way into crystalline torrents, forming a wide waterfall cascading down past the stony limit of Hell. It does not fall far below the base of the central platform, however, before it twists back into the rock. Where this occurs, the impact of flowing water upon obsidian sends up jagged spikes of mist, so constant as to seem frozen in a dream state.

There is a strange beauty in this place, the overall effect an odd spell of calm upon the area. Almost as though it were one space removed from the rest of the underworld; an ethereal haven of peace and positivism amongst the endless torment.

In sharp contrast to the situation earlier this mortal week, the atmosphere in this place is calm and constant. The shrieking beast that hovered above the ground has gone, leaving behind it's gigantic shell. A stairwell runs down from the unoccupied headspace to the obsidian platform below, where stands the Diaduin Emepherea, one slender hand upon the rail. Amber eyes scan past the curious waterfall she has created, and as she draws in a deep breath she allows her gaze to settle upon the greater depths of the Hells.
As Diablo told her, the corner set aside has shaped itself under her subtle guidance. The shelled creature was a personal touch, the interior and its purpose yet moreso. It is here she has been for the past few days, meditating - clearing her mind of distractions, of thoughts of what is to come. A great deal of time has passed for her without great incident, and biding that time has come to be second nature, but nonetheless she is affected by physical concerns. It is natural.
Though never anxious in the human sense, or steeped in uncertainty, there has been much to ponder. Too much; even aside from the impending discovery of others from her past, a suspected eventuality that seems almost entirely certain. As her power has begun to dwindle back on adapting to this place and it's ways, she has even felt familiar prickles run through the underworld. Diablo's information network is surely not run on Chinese whispers alone, and she believes she has felt part of the relay. It would all be too much for many... but the goddess is relaxed, and even a little pleased. Plans are proceeding, and she is part of something again - not stuck in a heartless limbo somewhere between Heaven, Hell, and Terra Firma.
Best of all, she does not know what today will bring. She never knows; it is not her job to foresee the future, only to subtly guide. Or merely spectate. Her acceptance of a place beside Diablo and his allies seems to defy this simple purpose, but...
The Goddess of Balance smiles to herself. Perhaps she's always been a little rebellious?

Senor Diablo arrives angry and dishevled. There's a fire burning in his eyes that he's not shown anyone before. This normally calm, almost gentleman-like demon is very much the opposite. Even the ground seems to suffer his wrath as a trail of darkness is left behind in his wake. Upon closer examination one would find this darkness is actually soot and ash where the very ground has been burnt. Upon reaching his destination he has to stop a moment before addressing Emepherea so that he can collect his thoughts enough to address her properly. "We need to hurry our plans a bit. I've just had a meeting with the head of Twisted's Council. Looks like they've finally decided to pay attention to our waiting room. If we're to keep your presence here a secret to the opposing Council, we're going to have to hurry you up there."

So much for the atmosphere.
Emi softly blinks her eyes as the demon prince approaches, pulling back a foot that had begun to drift forward to carry her away from the stairwell. The physical manifestation of his anger is scarcely necessary; she feels it a moment before she actually sees him, though the realisation that the very fires of his soulless power are flaring into being unbidden... it is unsettling.
She is not unsettled. A mind once cleared can be cleansed, prepared for anything like the mind of an inquisitive child. The goddess even smiles, though the gesture is ghostly; the touch of a calming expression upon ruby lips. There is nothing she can do to affect Diablo's mood, and nor would she. The situation may call for his spirit's flare. His anger may be needed, as the full extent of his dark mastery soon will.
"To your waiting room...?" Emi asks once her new ally is done speaking, leaving the question hanging as she nods her head and shifts away from the rail, coming to rest at Diablo's flank. Her gaze remains upon him, cast sidelong as she lifts a hand from her robe and makes an open-handed gesture. Bidding him forward, or up, or wherever the intended motion may lie. "I accede to your advice, Senor Diablo. But tell me of this meeting; what happened, who is involved, and why the sudden need for action? Surely this dominion is protected - or does our enemy now plan to breach the defences and stage an invasion of their own?"
She waits patiently, and waits ready to be enveloped in his magicks. Movement or answer can come first; or they can come together. She's so unfazed it would certainly be infuriating, if not for the predominantly innocent expression she wears.

Senor Diablo is doing a good job of controlling his anger, at least compared to how far it was built up when he first arrived. After taking a deep breath, the demon shakes his head and elaborates. "We have a place that resides between worlds where those who do not yet belong in the Heavens or Hells can go until their time comes. It's a ghastly place which we call the Waiting Room. This is the only point which we are guarenteed passage between this world and the Twisted Street without hesitation. Although I've done a fair job of protecting our Council from that knowledge. The passage from this side is blocked from anyone but the most powerful of beings to prevent escape, and likewise the other side of it can not find it unless a soul is actively searching for it. It's been a protected safehouse for eons." He pauses and glances at the trail he'd left in anger, a frown passes over his face as he plucks a glass from the air and sips it before attempting to continue. "Concordance and her enslaved creation Guarlesia intruded upon it while I was having a meeting with the dark angel Datenshi... if they know about it they'll return to it. I'd rather keep your aliance as a wild card on the table to prevent them from preparing for it in advance."

"I see," Emepherea murmurs as the concept of this 'waiting room' is explained. A whimsical name that does entertain on one level, if her picture of the place - having learned something of Diablo's twisted sense of humour - is at all accurate. Though whether he uses the word 'ghastly' with grim relish or in the sense another might would come to define a great deal. She enjoys the mystery for the moment, smile creeping a little further across her face.
As the dark one turns his attention back toward his route here, the dimunitive goddess almost idly slips her eyes shut, summoning a swift breeze that sets her hair to a shifting that is only partway natural. It is over in a second or two, raven locks settling, and the seared trail is gone. In perfect time for the next revelation.
One which causes the opposite effect on Emi's amber eyes.
"Datenshi?" She appears alarmed for a moment, and perhaps rightly so- in her official capacity this may or may not be a positive piece of news - but that moment passes as swiftly as such are wont to do. She can't fight back the final spread of that dissipated smile, this time into a positively sparkling beam, "You'd better show me to this waiting room, Senor Diablo!"

The Waiting Room

As you enter the building you are instantly asaulted with offensive waiting room music. The kind that makes you wonder if it wasn't created specificly for the purpose of sucking out one's will to live. An appropriate thing for a place like this. There are no signs describing what the room is a waiting room for. The receptionist is always busy, and the only door that's not the exit seems to be locked at all times. Occasionaly someone will come in from outside and walk through that door letting out a disturbing red light and a destinct uncomfortable presence. Along the walls of this room are several long benches with some horrible magazines stacked atop them. Articles about what color socks are popular in cuba and things you can cook with salt seem to make up the headlines. There are always people randomly scattered about here, some reading magazines, some looking blankly into space. None of them will speak to you. Infact, most will 'shhh' you if you start making too much noise. There's a purpose for this room, right?

Senor Diablo says, "As you wish..." The statement made almost comicly as he turns away, letting her follow him as he goes through the twisting, chaotic, turns and leads her towards the upper levels of the regions and through the vast wastelands towards a single door. Despite the obvious great distance and Diablo's lack of words, the trip is made rather quickly - possibly due to the devil's own influence. The door, which floats an inch off of the ground, begins to glow with a horrible reddish light as Senor Diablo reaches for it's handle and pushes it open.
The next sight might shock the goddess, for it is exactly as he described. A waiting room. Dozens are perched on the benches inside, sitting, waiting... It's surprising how busy this place has gotten as of late. People coming and going. It's almost as if it was created recently just for this purpose.
Senor Diablo says, "...and here we are. You might notice the air a little diffrent here. It doesn't take long for one to adjust to the atmosphere in Hell. I've found the transition away from it to be more than a little challenging."

The trip is made in equal silence by the Diaduin. Not that she fails to appreciate the journey, bright eyes scanning the surroundings at every opportunity, occasionally returning to fix upon Senor Diablo's form as the way darkens or makes a sudden veer toward the labyrinthine. It is not a short journey by any means, and it is educational. It would be a lie to say she does not also think of the errant dark angel as she walks...
But soon enough they are there. Her own power sizzles in response to the hellish energy coating the door frame she steps daintily through, hiking her robes with one hand to avoid coming into direct contact with the seal. Bright white sparks slip silently off her shoulders as she stands upon the other side, looking unblinkingly about the hallowed chamber.
And then, apparently unbothered by the transition, she laughs.
It's a youthful sound, clear and innocent despite the experience with which it has been coloured.
"I wonder, do you get along well with Datenshi? He always knew how to enjoy his own perceived evil..." Trailing off with a shake of her head, she takes a couple of steps further into the chamber, glancing at the seated miserables. They are a poignant sight; and give off a harrowing aura. "Some of them have been here for some time," she throws back to Diablo in a hushed tone, regardless of appearances. New and old are relative concepts as much as good and evil. "Is this place what I think it is?"
She turns around, reaching up a hand to idly hook a loose lock of ebon behind her right ear, examining the demon before her then nodding to the room at large. "It's larger than it seems. Why so grand below, and a veneer of the mundane here?" She doesn't sound critical, only curious, though something that might be playfulness glints in her eye.

Senor Diablo smiles at her observations. "It is a waiting room, as I've stated before. It's only fitting that it look the part. This is a dull place that both the dead and the living can inhabit without upsetting one another. That's why appearances are so important." He guestures towards the large double doors that make up the main entrance to the room. "Out there, is Twisted Street for all it's tainted glory. I suggest you use stealth when passing through here 'least our opposition realise upon which side of the coin you've fallen." It's not that he's certain any of Twisted's Council is going to pass through here again, but it is better to be safe than sorry after all. "If you have the ability to disguise yourself, you may wish to use that to your advantage." Leaning his weight upon a staff he's somehow produced, the demon smiles looking for the proper way to address Emi's other question. "...and as for Datenshi? I suppose I got along with him as well as can be expected. I suspect he would have tried to attack me had we not been interrupted, but such is to be anticipated. Other than that I would say it was a good talk. I'd like to have him on our side if it where possible..."

So easy... but would it be, without the Devil's blessing?
Emepherea slides her attention to the doors, a little 'mm' escaping her lips, acknowledging her understanding of the first part of Diablo's speech. "Don't worry about my ability to remain unnoticed," she murmurs, glancing to him with a faint shake of her head, "I don't share the stubborn insistence upon theatrics that some seem to have," Again there's that teasing shine; a sentiment she allows, now that they are better acquainted and her respect has been established, "As fun as showing off can be."
"Disguise.. would be unnecessary. I have no enemies, nor any friends who would recognise me without prompting. You saw Crux's reaction for yourself." She looks toward the exit once more, lips parting slightly as she takes a moment to think, casting her mind back. Who else could lie out there? "But perhaps caution is the better part of valour. I do not yet know the full measure of our opposition, and.. Johnny would recognise me." She frowns at that, taking a quick breath to refresh herself.
And then she rounds once more upon the demon.
"Datenshi and I go a long way back," Ten aeons, apparently, "I admit that my judgement may err when it comes to him, but... he would not stand in our way. Not just in /our/ way, at least. I should like to speak with him, so I will attempt to do that. I promise nothing, however." Suddenly, there is a hint of melancholy in the goddess' expression; it could merely be nostalgia, but she has already admitted to emotional ties.
"I've.. changed."

Senor Diablo quietly nods his head. "We've all changed. We change, our worlds change. This is the way of things. Change can not be stopped, and it should be encouraged. Shame some people are so stubborn about this." His statement hangs in the air a moment as he steps towards the door, grasping the staff tightly in his hands. "I have work to attend to myself, so you won't be alone on the street, at least for now. But as you now know the way back so know you are not being forced upon one world or another. If I where you, I'd hesitate to tell anyone above or below about this passage. Better to leave the ignorant in their state of bliss, wouldn't you say?"

"I know," Emi replies easily enough as Diablo takes a step away, her gaze following him and coming to rest upon his tightening fingers. She idly stares beyond them, into some forgotten space between dimensions, as silence reigns. Change can indeed not be prevented; it can be enticed to occur a certain way, or perhaps more importantly not to occur in other ways. She thinks a moment longer, then dips her chin, agreeing or assenting to some internalised conclusion.
The demon's next words receive a smile from the goddess as her eyes remain downcast. "We can all be ignorant - sometimes it's better - but I agree. If this is the only available means of entry," or the only 'easy one, "Then the last thing you need, the last thing /we/ need, is a stream of traffic back and forth. There's beings on either side who should remain where they are." Let the parameters of that necessity be relative; but it all comes down to that great cosmic scale in the end.
"Do not be concerned that I will break this agreement, or fail to mask the advent of my passage. My business here will be subtle in nature, unless our enemies make it otherwise. And why would they?" She lifts her shoulders in a delicate shrug, and steps forward toward the doors herself, lifting pale fingers to ease them open, "To them, I am a passing ghost of a thing. I doubt I will even register on their senses." "Shall we, then?"
The doors open, letting in a blast of air.
It has been a long time since the Diaduin Emepherea has seen any world but Chronos...

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