13719/It's nice to see a /lady/ Demigod sometimes...

It's nice to see a /lady/ Demigod sometimes...
Date of Scene:	12 August 2021
Location:	Themysciran Embassy - Manhattan
Synopsis:	Askante dipped into the embassy of Themyscira and acquainted itself with Princess Diana. The original one that is.
Cast of Characters:	Askante, Wonder Woman

---

Askante has posed:
Manhattan. It has too many people in it. Then again, so does all of NYC. Then again, so does all of north America. But practice makes perfect.

Askante slinks into the embassy backwards, making various protective gestures at the world outside. Many staff are highly unlikely to see it as it truly is, but there are always exceptions to the rules, no? It turns only when it has made first footing, weaving four hands in an elegant 'blessing upon this house' kind of act of superstition, blinking black eyes up at the decorations and relatively low level of bustle in the embassy. "Pretty pictures. Always about the boys, it is nice to see it be about the girls. Not enough of that."

Wonder Woman has posed:
Such is the tale of many majorly populated cities. There are too many people. Once upon a time, there didn't used to be so many people. Sometimes, Diana misses that time. Those were simpler days, and simpler times. Things were different then. Technology was less advanced. People were in less of a hurry. People seemed more willing to give others the time of day, to help, to... well... to actually care more about their fellow man.

With a cup of tea in hand, Diana stands at the window of her office, looking outside and watching the steady ebb and flow of foot traffic along the sidewalks and the vehicular traffic along the road beyond. The door to her office is open and propped so it will remain that way. She leans slightly against the windowframe, comfortable thus, and she lifts the cup to take a sip of the tea within. She wears a pair of charcoal grey slacks and a pale blue button-up blouse, black shoes with a two inch heel to them. Her black hair has been left unbound, and it tumbles over her shoulders and down her back.

Interestingly, it's not the unusual entrance itself which catches Diana's attention. The Embassy isn't terribly busy at the moment, and so it was a part of the movements of arms -- four of them -- that she caught out of the corner of her eye that caused her to turn her head and look beyond her office towards the lobby itself. Did she see what she thought she saw? A moment of looking proves that she did, and her curiosity is that easily piqued. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and she shifts to step away from the window before placing the cup of tea on her desk. Then she makes her way out of her office and towards the one who has secured her attention. "Much of the artwork is of the Gods and Goddesses worshipped upon Themyscira, or their attendants. Interpretations of various myths and legends," Diana says, glancing towards one of the nearby pieces before her attention returns to Askante. Myths and legends which most believe to be fiction but which Diana knows better about. She speaks in English, though with a voice accented by her native Themysciran. "Welcome to Themyscira's Embassy," she offers, a smile returning to her features.

Askante has posed:
"I know. Always a bit of interpretation involved, stories find their embellishments in the tattle-tale. Pretty pictures, pretty people, mighty deeds. Some not so mighty. Some more mighty than anyone ever knows..." Askante sighs a little, but it's smiling as it does so, drawing along the gallery of images a moment then down to the tall woman as she approaches. Both pairs of hands come to its chest and it bows over them. "Shalom, Namaste, Blessed be, other things also..." a few gestures are made that are archaic beyond all measure, but it's all finished off with a classic hindi 'shiva' pose, arms all over the place, leg uplifted and balanced as it stands there, head bowed. Aaaaaaaaaaaand we're normal again.

"So the Amazons are within the world once again, they were not for a long, long time. Long time. Longer than measuring it makes any sense. This one is Askante."

Wonder Woman has posed:
"Whoever told the tale has their interpretation of what they saw, and the artist has their own interpretation of what they heard or what they wrote. Such things have a way, sometimes, of changing with each telling and over the course of time. Some deeds become greater and some smaller, and for others yet it is as you say, their magnitude will never truly be known," Diana says softly, a thoughtful tone to her voice. She brings her hands before herself to pair one to the other as she bows in turn, the gesture not an unfamiliar one. She's studied some cultures in the course of her work with the museum, after all. "Thank you," Diana says, a gentle tone to her voice as she inclines her head towards Askante. The gestures and the chosen pose which follows are noticed with a touch of curiosity and interest, though if she has questions then she chooses not to give them voice.

"Yes, the Amazons have made the choice to be present once more. It is a small step, thus far, and yet... a large step at the same time. For a great many years did we choose to be secluded upon the Island of Themyscira. The times change even there, and opinions change with it," Diana says, giving a small nod of agreement as a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Askante. I am Diana, Princess of Themyscira and daughter of Hippolyta," she offers in turn.

Askante has posed:
"Oh! Yes..." patting its pockets, Askante looks in and out of its coat, which seems to have a good many pockets more than it ought and there'd be a reason for that. The Duster of Many hidey holes, yes indeed. It eventually finds what it wanted in a deep one that takes one arm up to the elbow, and produces a tiny amphora. It's the kind that once contained perfume, could be a replica, but as it presents it, sans cork, the clever eye can tell it's not. It's a genuine perfume amphora from a loooooooooong time ago, in almost pristine condition. Black and red glaze form a simple wave pattern around the middle, but the artisan was extremely skilled in precision geometry. "Here. First footing. Gift. Take!"

It tucks its other arms behind iself, chest out and proudly beaming at the tiny little trinket. "I remember your mother. I met her once, I think. Maybe twice? It was during the Heracles era."

Wonder Woman has posed:
One of her eyebrows quirks up as there is then the patting of pockets both hidden and otherwise, and a touch of curiosity shows in her blue eyes. She can't help but to smile at the array of hidey holes that the duster proves to have, many of them only noticed because of them being checked on the hunt. When the tiny amphora is produced and offered up, it brings an instant spark of interest to her, and a smile to turn the corners of her lips. At the bidding to take it, Diana lifts her right hand to carefully accept it. "Thank you, very much. It is a most generous gift," she says softly. Her gaze has turned to the amphora and for as good as her eyesight is and as practiced as she is at looking at antiquities, she recognizes that it is a great many years old. She glances to Askante, briefly, then looks back to the amphora to study it for a moment longer. "This is quite an exquisite piece of work, Askante. The artisan was most skilled, and it is rather surprising to see one survive the test of time in such excellent condition. Thank you, it is a true delight and a treasure," she says in a warm tone, sincerely grateful, a smile easily returning to her features. She's genuinely pleased with and surprised by the gift.

She tilts her head faintly, and then she chuckles softly. "I will have to tell her that I have met a friend of hers, in that case. I do not recall her mentioning you, but your time of meeting her was quite some time before I came to be," she comments with a touch of amusement. "Son of Zeus and Alcmene, was Heracles. Hercules, as some would call him," she adds in a thoughtful tone. "Would you care for tea?" she offers.

Askante has posed:
Her half brother, as it turns out. Dad did get about a bit and had some truly bizarre fetishes when you think on it too deeply. "Welcome, welcome. I keep my shiny things in special places, where they are not damaged. This seemed a good time to gift one. I used the perfume though, sorry about that." You know, as you do. Several thousand years old, stands to reason you use the smelly before it dries up. "Was an apprentice. Very skilled he was, ended up in the court of the Tyrant of Sythaca, painting history on plates and jugs and walls and floors. He was not afraid any more, to show." It smiles, quite happy with that memory. "Yes, good gift. Worthy place for it to be, yes."

Tea? "With honey?" it would perk ears if its ears were that kind of mobile. "Yes, please. Not sure that Hippolyta would think me a friend....hmm. Maybe so. I do not know." It pauses to think, sliding two hands into pockets and talking with the other two. "I am not sure if there is need of the service I gave the children of Artemis and the others of Hellas, Thrace and Crete, but I came to let you know that I am woken once again and can serve as Psychopomp."

Wonder Woman has posed:
Alas, Diana is unaware of her actual parentage, which is by the design of certain people -- namely, both of her parents. Her father did get around a fair bit and his wife had quite the temper about it. "It is good to have safe places for such shiny things, to keep them safe. Ah, there is no need to apologize for using the contents," Diana says, a smile turning her lips. "It was made to be used, after all," she adds. She lifts the amphora, and out of curiosity takes a sniff at the opening of it, just in case there happens to be a lingering trace for her nose to detect. She has a keen sense of smell. She takes a moment to admire the amphora once again, and then she gives a nod to Askante. "The court sounds like a very good place for him to have ended up, to paint the histories. It is good that he overcame the fear to let his art be seen. I will make sure that it finds a place of honour to be on display," she says.

"There is honey, if you wish to add some to your tea. And there is baklava, as well," she offers with a smile. She's fond of both, and when the cook makes baklava, she always is the first to the kitchen for pieces of it if she happens to be within the Embassy and not occupied. "This way," she offers, making a gesture towards her open office door. She takes a moment to look over the visitors within the lobby, her gaze passing over some of her Amazonian Sisters as well, and then her attention comes back to Askante. "We live and we die, both Amazons and humans. I think we would all benefit by having a hand to guide us on that final journey. I have no power or sway upon you or what you choose to do yet it would help in making sure that the spirits of the departed end up where they are meant to be," she says.

Askante has posed:
"It used to be much clearer once upon a time," Askante murmurs that and skitters ahead. In that, blink and suddenly it's in her office, looking at things but not touching, yet there wasn't any rush of wind or bampf to be heard. It was just in the foyer and now it's over there. At least it appears mostly harmless. "Not so much now. Everything is noisy and people get very lost, sometimes in their own heads. If I am needed, summon me. I will come. I liked the Amazons, they understood me quite well..."

There is a lingering scent in the vial, very faint, of camphor and honeysuckle, of olive oil and the Gris-gris of the whale. All ancient perfumery items. It was likely quite pleasant as an aroma, when not so faint. "I need more safe places. I'll have to hunt for them, the world is much smaller now, I worry things will be disturbed. Actually, I worry that often, because it seems like things are not left alone now, as they should be. It's an odd place to wake up in."

Wonder Woman has posed:
The Princess doesn't seem overly surprised by how easily Askante eds up in her office, and it doesn't take her long to enter herself. The office is neat, and upon the walls are some pieces of old art -- of Artemis and Demeter, of Athena and of the other goddesses and gods who have granted her gifts. "Once upon a time, many things were clearer. The world has become more crowded, more hectic, and a path is harder to see, it seems," Diana comments, her tone thoughtful. She studies Askante for a moment, and then she gives a nod. "If you are needed, I will summon you," she says with a touch of solemnity to her voice. "We do our best to understand, at least for the most part," she adds, a smile tugging her lips.

"Perhaps the perfume that was within might be able to be recreated," Diana offers, carefully settling the amphora upon her desk. There is a teapot on the desk, steaming, and a second cup as well as honey and a plate of baklava sitting there as well. She picks up the teapot in order to pour the cup full before replacing the former, and then she lifts a hand to gesture towards a comfortable chair -- there are two, one at either side of the desk. "You can consider the Embassy to be a safe place. You are welcome here, Askante. And if there are things that you wish to secret away, then I can offer you one of the guest rooms that would not be disturbed, on my honour," she says. "People are more likely to pick up things they find, especially if they feel that those things would be worth something to them, monetarily."

Askante has posed:
That Amphora probably would sell for thousands and thousands of dollars. But it isn't meant for that. Gifts are gifts and it is bad luck not to bring something to a sanctuary of a people. Food didn't seem to quite cut it for the lost and refound Amazons. It is smiling at the image of Demeter. She was after all, a mostly benign goddess, which in ancient greece was a little hard to come by. It bows its head at the affirmation of its being called upon if necessary, something that seems to give it a modicum of solace. Yep, still have some uses, old thing. It settles into a chair, curling itself up and sitting in the lotus position, tail in a ball and quills over the back of the headrest, coat around it like an old blanket. A little honey added to the tea and a balkava slice taken with a grin. It seems to have rather fine tablemanners, for an odd looking creature though, making sure to take a little napkin and set its treat just so, even the tea is kept upon a saucer.

"Thank you for that. I may find my way to a deep safe place in here. Do not be surprised if you find me there. I am not a thief, or a skulldugger." Several things are taken out of pockets in various orders, by the other two hands not occupied by tea -- A bone hair comb carved with the manitu, the sea-eagle and the polar bear; innuit scrimshaw on ivory that looks by the colour of the yellowed tone, to be an antiquity and pristine. Another is a chakra stone pebble, with three lines across it, perfectly oval. Another is a bronze neclace of coins that looks roman-judean and is inlaid with the tiniest blue agate beads in each center. An ancient straw doll, still immaculately kept if dry as a bone. A tin fork of naval origins, likely from approximately the time of the Spanish armada. Many other little things, each of which is a preserved slice of history in near-perfect condition and none of it an object d'art in the strictest sense. Mundane, priceless anthropology.

Wonder Woman has posed:
Indeed, gifts are not made to be sold, and to do so would be an insult to the one who gave the gift. The old ways must be respected. A smile quirks at Diana's lips as she notices the reaction that the image of Demeter has earned. "The goddess of agriculture, Demeter. Daughter of Cronus and Rhea. From your reaction, I would hazard a guess that you knew her," Diana says softly, a fond tone to her voice. It is one of those that she offers thanks and prayers to, for different reasons. Diana settles in the other chair only once Askante is seated, slipping her feet from her heels before tucking one of them beneath her. She waits until after Askante has taken a piece of the baklava before she takes one herself, claiming a napkin with her other hand just in case of crumbs.

"You are most welcome. It is the least that I am able to do and offer for you. There is a basement and a sub-basement, below ground. I will not be surprised to find you anywhere within, and I will make sure that my Sisters know that you are a guest here. If you wish to lock things away, then I can provide you with locked storage in either of the basements," Diana offers. One of her eyebrows quirks up as she watches the assortment of things that are brought out of the pockets. "You bear with you a significant trove of treasures and wonders. Have you lived amongst all of these various people, in your lifetime?" she asks, curious.

Askante has posed:
Askante glances up at the image of the goddess, one of the few titans that took up with the Olympians. "I sometimes visited her in the winter, when she was saddest and most fearful." It does not elaborate, further on that, merely looks with the fondness of yesteryear at the image, Nostalgia: the pain of the past. It does not begin to sip until she too has taken up tea and treat, but then it nods a few times, a bit frenetically. "All over, north to south, east to west. Some knew me better than others," it shrugs, gesturing at the innuit comb and tapping a finger on the Manitou image. "Also, the Chipewa people called me a different name, but the knowledge travelled up all the rivers to the ice-lands, too. Sometimes, the names are unflattering, the power of the story had the right purpose."

It tilts its head at her, smiles slightly, lets it fade a little. "You can see me. That means you are god-touched, or spirit-touched. Most do not see me."

Wonder Woman has posed:
"When the earth stood fallow and the trees were barren of their leaves, when it oft felt that spring and growing things were furthest away," Diana says softly, a note of understanding to her voice. Her gaze strays to the image of Demeter before returning back to Askante. She takes a bite of the baklava, chewing and swallowing whilst she listens to what is said. "Have you lived amongst all of the people that have been, across the world?" she asks, curious. Her gaze turns to the Inuit comb, studying it for a moment before she gives a small nod. "To all places where people travel, they take word of what they know and they take their beliefs to share, they take the stories of their people. Before technology became what it is, it was stories and music that were the entertainment at night or in the cold of winter," she says, her tone thoughtful.

One of her eyebrows quirks up at the mention of being either god- or spirit-touched, and Diana gives a small nod. "Yes, I can see you," she affirms. "As I was growing up and becoming myself, it could be said, there have been gods and goddesses who have chosen to grant me gifts. Perhaps that is why I see you," she offers in an attempt to provide an explanation.

Askante has posed:
"It is a possibility. It is also just possible that you see clearly." It would look monstrous if not for the clothing. Maybe that's why it wears them? Who knows. Alien, certainly. Inhuman, definitely. "Blessed. That would also do it, princess. Clarity." It scratches at its nose a few times, then delicately devours the baklava in two bites, dabbing its mouth with a curious finesse with the napkin. "Oddly, for me it has always been the other way around. Gods do not gift me things, men do."

And that brings it to nodding. "In the land of Ethiop, before their kings wore jewels and humans had walked out of Eden, they called me Catoblepas. That's one of the times they knew their fear and learned to conquer it. It was a strange time. I ate my own arms several times whilst they were working that out, but they kept out of the dangerous places where the world is thin." It muses. "The stories transform, sometimes it isn't remotely what it once was. How I know of Myth and Legend, the truth is a grain of sand in that particular desert."

Wonder Woman has posed:
"There are a few different things that could be possible," Diana says, her tone thoughtful in nature. "It is said that I was a gift from the gods to my mother, who longed for a child. A clay form given life," she adds, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It's what she's always been told, and she sounds as though she believes the tale to be the truth -- she has no reason not to, after all. She takes another bite of the baklava, savouring the sweet and nutty treat. She finishes chewing and swallowing, and then she tilts her head a touch to one side. "That is a bit of an oddity, although... your services, or at least those which you have mentioned to me, are ones that would benefit men by setting their souls and spirits to rest. Gods can be fickle with their gifts. I know not why I have been blessed by them as much as what I have been, but I am grateful for all that they have given me," Diana says.

"Catoblepas?" she asks, raising an eyebrow slightly. "As I understand it, that is a reference to a legendary creature there. They say it resembles a cape buffalo, with its head pointing down, and that its stare or breath could either kill people or turn them to stone," she says softly, her brow furrowing. She blinks, out of surprise, then gives a small shake of her head. "You ate your arms?" she asks, a touch of disbelief to her voice. "In myths and legends, there is a grain of truth at least, though sometimes it is hard to find that grain for all the changes that the story has gone through over the course of time. You have much wisdom in you, much knowledge."

Askante has posed:
"Truth," Askante nods to the possibilities, smiling a little at the story of her conception into the world. It is in its own way, a nice metaphor for being a child of the gods. "It is rather a side-effect of me, myself and I, the gift of Psychopomp. I can go where even the gods cannot, half the time. I was born of a need, I suppose and the trivialities of the barriers that came up between the spirit, the heavens and the world beneath never really stopped me. No barrier actually can, that I've encountered. You have to really want to keep me out, to keep me out. It takes effort. My experience though, is that the Divine is rarely very thoughtful, unless it has a vested interest, depending on the psyche of the pantheon. The more primative, the more charitable they often are. But such beings become small as the world grows old."

It pauses then, nodding after a bit. "Yes, ate my own arms. It was part of what they thought was a truth and I have no idea why they saw me that way, but they did. The imagery does not come from me, but the subconscious mind of men. Why I look like a skeletal deer or a blood covered savage man to the inuit and chippewa, a devi to the hindu, djinn to the nomads... and a catoblepas to the Ethiops. The stone gaze was all a bit of an exaggeration. Petrified, yes, literally, no."

Wonder Woman has posed:
It does make a rather ice metaphor for her parentage, and it serves the purpose of keeping her safe from Hera's wrath at the same time. "It is quite a useful side effect to have. There are many who are not able to pass such barriers, at least not without particular tasks being completed and divine boons to allow it," she muses. She falls quiet as she takes another bite of the baklava to savour. "There are times when the divine have proven to be thoughtful and others when they are less so. I think it may depend in part on the situation that one seeks to call their attention to. And in such days as these, the elder gods and goddesses are not worshipped very much anymore. The times are much different now than what they were then. Yet the divine still pay attention and still walk the lands," she comments, her tone thoughtful.

"It makes a great amount of sense, and those images are fitting to the groups that they belong to," she says, quirking a smile. She chuckles softly before taking a sip of her tea, and then she gives a nod. "Petrified from fear, but not from having been turned to stone," she comments. "Do you physically become what they envision you to be or is it a form of magic that causes them to see you as such?" she asks, curious.

Askante has posed:
"They do, yes. Hmm. Maybe I will see if I can find some of the old gods." Askante muses that, looking slightly wistful with it. And incredibly old in the way it gazes off. "I would like to see Ngalyod again, one time..." It purses its lips.

It sips long and deep of its tea, seemingly a ritualistic drinking and rests the cup on its lap, steadying the saucer with a spare hand. "I think it is an effect of the collective subconscious," it replies. "Just ... see..." it looks at her steadily and the world goes a little weird. She is who she is though, as the walls start to melt inward, the desk skitters with a pulse and letters of words seem to crawl from their pages, forming shapes half-hidden. There is a /presence/ here, greater than the two that sit within, born of something incredibly primal; that need to survive. She'll hear the hiss of things deadly, the warning rattle, the glow of eyes in the shadows you should avoid... and as quickly as it began, it ends, with the manifestations of that moment lingering for several seconds in the light of electricity and the twang of normalcy. They evaporate like whisps of ether a little while later, but make no mistake, they were -real- for a while there. Not illusion.

Wonder Woman has posed:
"It could be interesting to come across them once again, for you," Diana says with a smile. "I have not come across too many of them recently, although I will say that there are those of the Japanese pantheon who yet enjoy their games," she adds, giving a soft chuckle. She raises an eyebrow slightly and tilts her head a touch to one side at the mention of Ngalyod, a name she's not heard in some time. "The Rainbow Serpent, is it not?" she asks.

She finishes the baklava, then licks the bit of honey syrup from her fingers before wiping them dry on the napkin. "That makes a certain amount of sense," Diana says softly. There's a touch of curiosity that comes to her blue eyes, her gaze holding upon Askante when she's bid to see. Her gaze flicks aside to the walls as they melt inward, her tea lowering to rest upon one of her thighs. As the desk and words seem to have a life their own, her gaze falls to them, yet she remains seated where she had been behind the desk. She doesn't seem afraid, and she's not, despite the presence that is so very much there and the sights and sounds of it being here. All of her senses tell her just how real what had manifested was, while it was there. There's a moment that passes, after all has returned to normal. "What was that?" she asks, with curiosity in her voice and nary a trace of fear at all.

Askante has posed:
"The primal subconscious, I believe." Askante replies, sniffing. It nods then, also. "Yes. Ngalyod, the rainbow serpent. It was ever a strange power, which made me feel at home. The land of Ngalyod was always a challenge, but I think.. probably the most rewarding place mankind ever took me to. I died a myriad of times there, showing them what was deadly. Which was nearly everything. And the Dreamtime spawned some truly terrible things, which added an additional aspect to it. I am grateful that death does not hold me for long, else their story would have been quite a bit shorter, I feel."

It studies its own fingers though, then looks back up at her. "The same power that manifests as it did there, controls the shape of that which is perceived. It condenses it into what is needed to be seen. The Touched... well, it does not effect the touched, such as yourself, unless I unleash all of the Primal. But it is a strange phenomenon, is it not? I think that is why sometimes, I am compelled to obey the wardings that are concocted against that which they see."

Wonder Woman has posed:
"The power of belief is a significant thing. Many people have a hard time understanding that there is a power in simply believing," Diana says. She lifts her cup of tea, taking a sip of it. "I have not been to Australia for some time. It would be good to visit again," she adds. And not terribly hard for her, given that she can fly. "There are a great many deadly things there -- as you have said, nearly everything. I am not familiar with Ngalyod's powers, but it pleases me that it made you feel at home there. The story of the people there would likely have been shorter, if you had not been there to show them what was dangerous. It gives a different meaning to the phrase of nightmares being made flesh," she muses.

"It is quite an amazing power, and used for the benefit of helping people," she says softly. "It is a strange thing, at the same time. I wonder if different people in a group perceive you differently or the same, and if their own culture and background affect how they see you if it is a mixed group of people," she muses, a thoughtful tone to her voice. "Perhaps sometimes you just want to be seen as what you are instead of being seen as what the Primal is making people perceive you as?" she offers, a suggestion of sorts.

Askante has posed:
"I do not generally have that luxury," It admits to Wonderwoman. Bound by the Eye of the Beholder. "But generally speaking, it does seem to have some cultural resonance. I worry over what would happen should I have need to invoke the primal in the culture we find ourselves in. I imagine panic would ensue, regardless." It finishes its tea though, bowing its head to her and lifting the empty cup. "I have drunk of your water and am greater for it. I have supped of your bread and am sustained for it. Hospitality is done and the pact is observed. Call upon me and I shall answer. Burn dried dandilion. I will know."

That said, it brings two sets of palms together again, bows over it and vanishes. One second it is there, the next it is not. Such is the way of odd things.