Summary: John Constantine spies with his magical eye, something magical! Deis is just waking up from a nap. A really long nap!
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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.
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'Nowhere'.
It's an apt description of the place, really. There's nobody and nothing here aside from sand, sand, sand, and more sand. Well, there's the odd dead tree or bush speckling the land here and there. More than that, it's really nowhere anybody wants to be. It's a place to die if one goes too far!
But it's on the edges of Nowhere, where the barren desert of death starts to give way to things that aren't completely dead, that something can be felt. Or smelt, depending on how one perceives magic.
There's a small cave, and from inside it, something magical. Something INTENSELY magical. But dormant. And down further in the cave there's a natural slope. It's short, but it's protected from the outside reasonably well. And in an alcove at the end of the slope?
A woman.
She's lying on what's clearly an altar, on her stomach, arms draped over the sides. She has long blue hair that trails off of the altar and onto the floor. fortunately she's got clothes on; she's wearing a short purple dress -- and, possibly disturbingly, slave-like bracers on her wrists and on her shins as well. But, lest anyone think she's dead...
A soft snore rises from her form.
The first rule of finding something: You inevitably find the most interesting things while looking for something else.
In fact, John isn't hunting sleeping deities...why would he be? He's hunting rumors and scents and whispers of magical artifacts. Which hasn't led him to the deep desert, of course; he's not equipped or supplied for that without more preparation, although he definitely IS prepared for dry places...he's got a hydration pack slung over one shoulder, a bandana covering his face, and a large wide-brimmed stetson over his head. In other words, right now, the Master of the Dark Arts looks like a cowboy who mislaid his horse. Well, and his spurs. He mutters a word to renew the spell he's using and then blinks. Peering at the cave through the gap between bandana and hat brim. "Well, bugger me sideways," he says, staring at it.
There's a spark of something magical! And there's a snort from the inside of the cave, as if startled from her sleep (and rther inelegantly at that), and flops over onto her back. Or, well... she tries to. Apparently she totally forgot she's on a small stone altar. So of course, with no room to flop over...
"GAH!"
Thud.
"...Ow! Okay, okay, I'm awake now!" the blue-haired woman whines.
Of course, if John is outside, he can definitely hear all that racket...
Which causes him to stalk into the chamber, tugging down his bandana once clear of the dust outside. To magical senses...a talented mortal, but one deeply tainted. In control of that taint, mind, but it's there. As he comes into the cave and sees the heap of woman and blue hair he frowns, quickens his pace, and moves to offer her a hand up. As any gentleman would do.
John likely enters to the sight of her stretching her arms over her head, with the typical groan of someone just waking up. "Whooo.... what a nap," she notes. Then she notices him there, and blinks. The hand is noticed, and she chuckles quietly. "Aw, aren't you the gentleman~?" Yeah, she's gotta tease a little. That said, she also does indeed accept the help up. "Thank you. I guess I forgot where I was sleeping." She looks at the altar like it had personally offended her some way.
"Wider bed next time, perhaps?" Whatever she is, she's not human; he's absolutely sure of that, but given she is teasing him, he feels that it's safe to return the favor. He doesn't ask why she was sleeping on an altar. He probably won't like the answer.
Oh indeed, this woman is VERY MUCH not human. If it wasn't the fact that she radiates magic like a torch radiates heat, it's that hair color. That eye color -- well, purple eyes aren't TOTALLY unheard of, but they're super rare amongst humans. Though yes, she nods. "Definitely. And a softer one, too -- ouch!" She stretches her arms back, trying to stretch her back. "I hope I didn't do that thing where I sleep for a century or so and then I walk outside and all hell has broken loose out there."
"Hell's been pretty quiet, actually," the man says, taking hell much more literally than Deis likely intended. "As for how long you've been asleep, I wouldn't know." After all, he has zero idea who she is; and he's never seen her before, at that.
"Ooo, that's not encouraging," the blue-haired woman notes. That said! She speaks up, "Well, since I don't know you, introductions need to happen!" She's not angry or rude here, just enthusiastic. PLacing a hand on her chest, she notes, "I'll start. Hello there, my name is Deis!" There's no bow or curtsey. She's very informal, from the looks of things.
"John Constantine, Master of the Dark Arts." It's not formality, it's about being informative to the stranger. No bow either. He doesn't even, yet, remove the hat.
Deis blinks. "Ooo, Dark Arts?" She seems intrigued. "I've been a devil before. Do you mean that kind?" she inquires. Though, as if to assuage his fears that he might have released a demon, she notes, "These days I keep away from doing the dark stuff. Too much effort, you know."
John Constantine shakes his head a little. "I'm a demonologist. Because sometimes that's the skill needed to get rid of them."
"Ah, even better!" Deis notes. "Though I'm not a demon anymore. Just magic and secrets, that's about all that's in my portfolio lately. Besides, sometimes 'demon' just depends on your point of view~." She gives a smile that's somewhere between wicked and coquettish.
"Depends on the kind of demon, now, doesn't it. You ain't any minion of hell." Because Hell doesn't let go that easily.
"No, not really," Deis admits. "But when your sister is 'God' and you start working against her because she's doing something stupid, you become 'The Devil' to her and her worshippers, REAL quick." She smirks. "You might even get sealed up for a handful of centuries."
John Constantine ahs. "Still not the kind of demon I'm thinking about." She's the demiurge. In some world or other. John's not going to risk insulting her. Mental note...find out what she's really about from some kind of neutral source.
Deis nods. "That's good, I don't like to hurt people unless they need it," she agrees. "Besides, the cutest ones tend to hide behind hats and masks." She winks. Yes, she totally did just flirt with him. Though it's mild, so there's that. It shouldn't be too terribly concerning.
John Constantine laughs. "I ain't hiding, it's just awfully dusty and hot out there." He finally takes off the hat. Some people would argue that he is, indeed, cute, though.
Deis raises a hand, pointing at him. "Aha!" she proclaims triumphantly. "I thought you had some cute hidden back there!" She grins. Though a moment later, she rubs her chin. "Dusty and hot... a desert? The last place I remember like that... hm. That desert that if you walk too far out into, you'll just cease to exist because you lose cohesion. Or something like that -- the world stops believing in you, something. I forget the actual explanation." She waves her hand dismissively. "Either way, bad news. Is that it?"
"Don't worry, we're not that far into the desert," John said. He's not worried, it seems, about ceasing to exist.
"Aha, so we're still in that place," Deis surmises. "Distortion, or something -- Twisted, that's right. So I'm still here after all." She doesn't seem upset about finding this out, so apparently she's been there for a while. Then again, with her apparent ability to sleep for centuries, it could have been some time ago.
John Constantine nods. "Well, shall we go find something to drink, then?" he offers. It's dusty. Or he means booze. Or both.
"Sounds good to me!" Deis agrees readily. "Is that place still here, 'The Usual'?" she inquires. "Or were you thinking something a little less nourishing for the body and a bit more nourishing for the spirit? Or just spirits?" She may have booze on the mind, too!
"Both!" John says, tugging the hat back on as he heads towards the city. Of course, if Deis has been asleep that long...it's changed.
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