14045/Shadow play

Shadow play
Date of Scene:	31 December 2021
Location:	The Astral Plane
Synopsis:	The Rasta Jamaican gangster that almost died in a Constantine encounter, has been dreaming. This is the result when you astral dive.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Lucifer

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Sinister has posed:
This is sometime between Then and Now. The Now being a moment where Lucifer is investigating his own past and the Then being between drunkedness and sobriety, when there's a goodly amount of relaxed brain and a distinct need to sleep.

And yes, dreams. They happen. Today's rendition of Odd is a shopping mall full of aliens and Nekos, where the cosmos collides in all directions, allowing people from all places in the galaxy to get their Starbucks and their unnecessary nickknacks when their spaceships are docked and being fueled up with starjuice. Exactly WHOSE dream this is, is not entirely clear, but Sinister's looking quietly around the place. "I despise malls. You encounter the most awful people at times...." a bunch of teenaged fish men with gill breathers wander past as he aims his steps vaguely toward Customer Service. A tired looking neko with pink hair and white ears puts on her best smile as he draws close, but in the end he aims for the mall map. "...Sorry for dragging you in here, Rasta went off on a brainspike and ended up in here."

Lucifer has posed:
Within the dream world, Lucifer is sober and, well, still Lucifer. The Devil with all his might and vigor. Looking around as they proceed down the promenade towards a counter with a tired neko. He notices the fish men, and the other random space creatures that venture in this point. This nexus if you will. "Rasta? Who is Rasta?" He inquires this gently as they soon veer away from the neko-catted counter and towards the map of the entire shopping center. "I don't much like malls either. Even for someone who owns a club this place crawls with...too much..."

Sinister has posed:
"Like a seething churning vortex of consumerism and capitalist drives. Buy buy buy. And everyone wanders around like commercialism is their raison d'etre..." Sinister mutters, along with a tone that could sour milk. He looks at the map a moment, then Lucifer in profile. "I don't know what his name is. I kind of oscillate between Rasta and Dreads. Remember the jamaican gangster whose head almost exploded, before you feathered him? Him. He's never woken up and I've been studying him, because he's kind of... stuck between dreaming and subconscious whatever it is he's at. It's quite fascinating. But he's been having random REM moments and I surfed it this time. I'm actually asleep beside you, but I figured..." he shrugs, smiles, looks back at the map.

Putting a hand on the touchscreen, a menu option pops up, with an infinite amount of shops. "I wonder if you can just type an inquiry."

Lucifer has posed:
"Well I surely didn't think you would subject yourself to this willingly, no matter the return. Begrudgingly, maybe, if the return was profitable enough. Just stuck here though? No. Not you. Nor I, of course. Together, it might be sufferable." Lucifer offers with a grin and then tilts his head as Nathaniel touches the map and it acts like a touch screen. "Hmm..." So he reaches and types in 'male attire', just to see what it might do. He'd of done something more raunchy but this is neither his nor Sinister's head so...probably best to not fuck around and find out too much.

Sinister has posed:
A whole lot of shops pop up, men's attire, also department stores and pop-ups like the carts that occupy the walkways in all major shopping centers. In this case, it seems to be obeying what the sleeper knows of such things.

"Eternity stuck in here would be interesting. Tolerable with two, I think yes. I think we'd end up being ludicrously creative and causing masses of mischief eventually. Maybe even create sociological experiments." Sinister replies, looking carefully at all the options presented. "Maybe we can narrow the search..." he types 'Terran men's attire' just to see what that does. Slightly fewer search results. "Hmmmm."

There is a pause. "You know it strikes me that we might have to do commercial trips on occasion, just to walk through the places. After all, it's way too much, but it's also a battery recharge for you, particularly in the greedy time of year. It might even be therapeutic. Like a doctor's prescription. He needs a sin top up by proxy."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer chuckles. "Yes. Go to a mall and fill up on the lust of teenagers, the greed of men, the pride of those who shop 'high class' ... gluttons at the food court..." Lucifer lists off a handful of sins he could easily get his fill on in such a place. Then he works backwards. Looking at the screen once more, he tilts his head and then swipes his hand before the screen which clears the search.

'Fine Chocolate' is what he puts in next. Something a little more niche, though perhaps not by much. Still, it may yield a few less results - and chocolate is more interesting than clothing anyway. Especially for two people who can make their own. Clothing that is.

Sinister has posed:
"Doctor's orders, perhaps. One day. I hope it never becomes necessary, but it might be interesting watching you watching them. Lucifer in a shopping mall." Watching the screen, Sinister reads the words selected and gives a simple, short laugh.

And it actually brings up about three hundred results. Even in a mall of potential infinity, that's very niche. "So it can narrow things down. Good. Hmm." He also clears the screen, just for the sake of a different experiment. He types in his own name. THere's the 'thinking' swirl on the screen for a moment, before it pops up literally a 'You are here' map.

Lucifer has posed:
"We could go, just so you can see it. One time. When I'm low enough to benefit from the trip also." Lucifer offers and then grins as he looks to the screen when Nathaniel clears it. Then he watches as the man types his own name and the map shows him precisely where he stands. "Well...it's self aware enough it knows you're here... but I have to wonder if that is a good or bad thing..." Then he decides to wipe the screen again and types in his own name, as Samael Morningstar.

Sinister has posed:
And once again, there's the 'thinking' swirl before the 'you are here' arrow. "I was testing a theory. As this is a dream of the Rasta Dreadlocks man, it's fabric responds to him. It's his mind. I think..." he gestures AT the help map. "That's his mind. It knows we're here, because..." he gestures around them both, just as a Jabba the Hut snails past with a massive snowcone. "I have a feeling that this guy worked in retail once. It might have been his happier time. And he was a big sci-fi geek. I wonder what else we can learn."

He winks though at Lucifer, making a 'mwah' of the air. "Chicken soup for the Devil's soul is a mall in the suburbs."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer taps his chin a moment. "That makes sense... well then..." He turns and heads pointedly over to the customer service desk where the tired neko looms. A tilt of his head as he leans against the counter. "You look positively beat, my dear. How long have you been standing there? And no one to come to you asking you for help? It's good you're here for the inevtiable, but surely....you should get a break to rest."

Sinister has posed:
"Kawaaaaaai! Kawaaiiii, ai, ai, ai, ai..." the tired neko intones this in various inflections, then pops up a speech bubble over her head, with emoticons on it. She puts both hands under her chin aftewards and does a little kitty-girl curtsey, her tail going up with a pink bow to match her hair at the end.

Oddly the emoticons make sense; anime catgirl gets x's for eyes and her tongue 'P' in the bubble. She sweatdrops, gets a tired emoticon, a yawnyface, then a chibi of her glomming with ducklips over a bowl of ramen and cup of comic-book steaming tea. "Mewmew?"

"Erm," Sinister blinks at this. Manga generation seems to have passed him by and the Anime style he doesn't recognize as being a subculture. There may well be other helpdesks with Sailor scouts. Or big busty girls in catholic school girl outfits with skirts so mini that they're practically belts.

Lucifer has posed:
"I...think she's tired and...hungry? And maybe just a little in love with me..." Lucifer suggests and then takes a step back from the desk. He looks the neko over once and then again, tilting his head this way and that. "Can you...understand me? Us? Can you speak... English?" He asks her and then looks to Sinister. "Figured I would try but... we may not get anywhere here either. Though Im also not sure if we're trying to get anywhere? Learn anything? Just here to enjoy the dreamscape?" He chuckles. "Even tho you hate malls so much....maybe we should walk around a bit?"

Sinister has posed:
"It's not hard to do," Sinister replies, with a chuckle. "Love you that is." He looks at the cat girl again, musing. "She's a japanese stereotype, isn't she?"

The Neko tries speaking and it comes out as mostly gibberish Japanese. Several words are spoken which are easier to pick out, but she speaks like someone heard a neko talk in Japanese but only audibly recognized a few of the phonemes. "Heck, even I know that's nonsense. Soup, bubble, hello, cute? And the rest is nonsense." Sinister gets a lightbulb moment, looking Lucifer in the eyes. "I have a feeling I might indeed need to walk about," proferring his elbow, he turns from the counter as the poor kitty girl just exaggeratedly sighs and slumps, looking at her watch.

He looks up at the various signs that point to washrooms, to high end fashion, to other places. He points several out. "The store fronts are clear, but look beyond, it's all blurry and ill defined. I don't think our dreamer ever went into the high end places, do you? If you were a teenage jamaican immigrant... a black man in america. Where would you end up getting your first job, do you think?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer raises a brow and then nods. He reaches his hand to rest it on the counter and when he pulls it back there's a steaming bowl of ramen - like from her bubble-text and steaming tea. "Yeah, she kinda is. Maybe from an anime or a manga... but definitely a stereotype." He then turns and takes Nathaniel's arm, beginning to walk with him.

"Shoe store. Sporting good store. Uhh... being as he's into sci-fi and manga... Hot Topic, Gamestop, comic book store....something like that..." He says this much as they walk, paying attention then to the fuzziness and nods. "So he only knows as far as he's explored, which was likely just his job and maybe the food court..."

Sinister has posed:
"Domo-Arigato!" the kitty girl calls as they walk away, because even a dream of your manga obsession can react when there are interlopers in your brain.

"He might well be flipping burgers. Even the stores you mentioned, tend to employ asians, indians and white kids. I bet we'll find the area around the food court well defined though and can probably go from there, based on what has full depth and what does not." Sinister rests his free hand atop Lucifer's arm, crooked in his own. "I'm just hoping the lucky bastard has a nametag."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer shrugs and then shakes his head. "I suppose I was being a little more hopefull. So I guess we're off to the food court then? Are we looking for a younger version of Rasta or do you think he'll project himself at his current age?" Then he thinks. "Or is that why we're hoping he has a name tag on?" Though that could also be to try and actually learn this guys name finally. Who knows! "Also...if I healed him with a feather...why is he unconscious still?"

Sinister has posed:
"I have no idea. I just want to know what to actually call him and young or old, we ought to recognize the man. For the purpose of rehabilitation, their actual name is much more useful in reaching a comatose individual than just having something to call them." Sinister replies, looking empathetic to the hopefulness, but quite frank in facing the truth. America isn't kind to new immigrants, unless they're from the 'right places'.

"You know, I've been fussing over that very question. AS near as I can fathom as it's the answer that makes the most sense at least, is that he was braindead when you gave him the feather, his heart just hadn't stopped beating. So you healed him up, but the poor sod's sort of in a limbo in his own head because of it. You kind of pulled that last minute reprieve from the final curtain, right when he was stepping through it." Sin shrugs. "It could just be that he's trying to make sense of almost dying, seeing a glimpse of what's beyond and not dealing with it very well."

The food court is less extravagant than the rest of the place, more realistic looking, lending credence to the notion that this was where was the most familiar. All the people here look fundamentally real, too, with the exception of the aliens eating from the Big Belly Burger, of course. But keen eyes can see some of the walkways out of the area are clearer too, so it MIGHT not be his destiny to have been a burger flipper that never made it much and therefore as life got harder, slipped into crime.

Lucifer has posed:
"It's just odd because I don't believe that's how they're supposed to work...brink of death...even there...the feathers should heal a person completely." It's something that may just bother Lucifer for a little bit. Knowing he's left someone in a comatose state without realizing or intending such. Never the less, as they continue walking and things become more clear, he gives another look around. "Still some fantasy types milling about but I do believe we are on the right track." This offered and then he scans the places one could grab a bite to eat at.

"I wonder if it means that something else needs to be done to pull him from such a state. I might have to do some research on that or something." He frowns a little. "Never meant to keep the man in such a predicament...I hope...should he recover...that he is okay otherwise."

Sinister has posed:
"That's... sort of why I pulled you in, too. But also why I've been Johnny on the ball with monitoring him. I seriously think he's just failing to deal. The human mind is a strange thing. Both resilient and incredibly fragile at the same time." Nathaniel observes, moving around the edge of the court, where the tables are NOT and looking at the servers. None of them match up, but there are a couple of people that stick out loud and clear, like he knew them intimately, or fraternally. Friends outside of the shared place that they had jobs at. These people have scars, are less perfectly perfect, better remembered in other words.

And then, rounding the corner toward one of the walks that leads toward some low-end higher fashion stores and an Old Navy, a young man with short dreadlocks! He isn't the worst case scenario, as Sinister had feared, but he isn't higher end retail either. Their Fox on the run, is a Mall cop. He can't be more than twenty, but he has the same lean build and mixed-race heritage indicative of a good many native jamaicans. The high cheekbones, slightly almondine eyes, the mid-brown skin tone of chinese, indian, caucasian and african heritage. He's currently gazing at one of the service stations, at a girl that isn't an anime in the classic sense, but has the hallmarks of one in his imagination. She'd be the heroine of the piece, with her own fashion sense. But she IS Japanese. That might explain why all the service stations are filled with japanese stereotype.

Lucifer has posed:
"I see. That makes sense. So, not technically my fault then..." Well, it sort of it Lucifer, since you fucked with fate and healed the man. But lets not let semantics get in the way, right? None the less, he follows eyes and people, taking note of those with scars and eyes them for a curious moment. That is, until they round the corner.

"Oh hello..." He offers this as they see the mall cop that is their fine comatose friend. He follows the gaze to the woman, and gives a little smirk. Wondering, briefly, how to do all of this... Lucifer is known for not entirely thinking things through and diving headfirst. So, he strolls right up to their Jamazian friend. "Hi there! Hello! Fancy little place you have running here. Might I get your name so I can tell the overall staff how much of a great job you're doing keeping people safe here?"

Sinister has posed:
Oh, well, that might not have been THE best approach to all of this. The shock of another 'real' in his safe place brings the mall into freezeframe and the REM pattern to collapse in a cascade. But that's not before his nametag could be read: Dwayne Perkins. It is a name. With a name, identity can be found. Potentially, family. Potentially friends. Potentially wife and children.

But for the time being, all of a sudden they're on Sinister's beach at the south of England, looking at the endless sands and the sawgrass dunes. "Well, that didn't quite go according to plan. Still, good intentions," and the road to hell. "We have a name. Are you any good at skipping stones? Best not to wake up just yet, you'll have a major headache." Sinister smiles as he draws up next to the Devil and proffers a flat sea-shell and several pebbles. Dreams are odd things.

Lucifer has posed:
"We do have a name..." Lucifer offers and then flushes a bit. "Sorry about that... I... didn't entirely think that through I guess..." This much offered before he looks at the sea shell and pebbles. A little grin forms on his lips. "I think I can muster up skipping a stone or two...maybe..." This and then he leans in to kiss Nathaniel before turning towards the ocean. Skipping stones is a simple thing, and something he'll gladly join in on within this dream scape.