Rebirth of the Nephilim

“Where the fuck am I?”

As always, it took Jadis a few seconds to reorient herself as her soul made the transition from the mortal plane to the divine realm D occupied. The last time Jadis had visited her patron deity, she had found the shift over to be less disruptive than in the past. Her soul self had been more concrete, mirroring the way she looked in real life rather than just an indistinct blob of consciousness. This time around, Jadis found that her sense of self had once more remained the same, though there were some unusual changes to her outward appearance. Those small differences, however, weren’t the first things on her mind. The completely unexpected unreality of her surroundings occupied her mind entirely.

She was not in D’s living room. She wasn’t even in D’s boringly suburbanite neighborhood. There was no cul-de-sac, no two-story American-style houses, not even a blank nothingness surrounding her in the middle-distance to remind her of the completely alien nature of D’s realm. No, instead of the expected quiet neighborhood, she was on… a downtown city street?

The surreal, nonexistent nature of D’s realm was still in effect. Nothing that she could see was anything more than a conceptual ideal. From the sidewalk under her feet to the rainy sky overhead, everything was just an idea. However, the concepts surrounding her were like something out of an old black and white movie. The city buildings around here were brick and mortar, with old-fashioned signs and advertisements plastered on the walls. She could see the imagined figments of clothing, furniture, and other goods on display through the large windows, all of them of a style that looked older than even her grandparents. There were cars parked on the side of the asphalt street, none of them any model that she recognized but all giving off the vibes of classics from a bygone era. The sidewalk and street around her felt crowded with people, yet she couldn’t actually see anyone. The impression of businessmen, dock workers, primly dressed housewives, and dolled up ladies was all around her, yet there was no actual visual sign of any person at all besides herself.

To her shock, Jadis realized that she could actually see several driverless cars making their way down the road to stop at a red light, allowing more empty cars to pass by on the cross street.

As her brain caught up with the utterly bizarre scene, Jadis’ eyes glided over the storefront that was directly to her right. She barely noticed the amalgamation of nondescript sundries on display, instead focusing her attention on the reflection in the idea of glass. She almost didn’t recognize the sole individual she could see.

Jadis was, much like her last visit, still her Nephilim self. She could tell that she had all the features that made her distinct as a person, though her image was still somewhat fuzzy, like a camera that was out of focus. The big difference that caught her off guard was in her dress.

Jadis was wearing a wide-brimmed, stylish hat and a matching tan leather trench coat that had been belted around the waist. Her hair had been done up so that it was tucked underneath her hat to expose her elegant neckline, and she was even wearing a pearl necklace of all things. Pulling her coat apart without undoing the belt, she saw that she was wearing a cream-colored blouse and a dark pencil skirt that came to just above her knees. Looking down further, she could see that she was wearing stockings and black high-heeled shoes.

“What the shit…?” Jadis murmured as she took in her appearance.

While it was definitely far, far, far from her usual style, either on Oros or Earth, Jadis couldn’t deny that she looked fucking good. Well, she was pretty sure that she could wear a potato sack and she’d still look amazing, but the fashion she found herself unexpectedly dressed in was decidedly sexy. She felt like she s2hould be on the cover of some old fashion magazine, or walking down a retro catwalk.

Instead, she was standing confused on a city sidewalk wondering what exactly she was supposed to ne doing while a light rain soaked into her coat.

Looking around with more careful attention, Jadis tried to spot a sign or something of the like to let her know what D had in mind for her. She had no doubts at all that this was all some kind of game that the manic deity was playing with her. The god had a penchant for confusion and chaos, after all, and he had to have changed his realm just for her visit because he found it amusing.

While Jadis had hoped to find some kind of a sign to direct her, she didn’t think that her hope would be fulfilled quite so literally. Across the street from her, she saw a business front sandwiched between two other undetailed shops that had a glowing neon sign hanging over top of the front door. While the rest of the posters, billboards, and signs that she could see on the street were without any real meaning to them beyond their base concepts, this sign had detail. It was a stylized eye, the same neon blue as Alex’s eyes, Jadis noticed. Below the eye, the sign read two words.

Private Detective.

With a snort of amusement, Jadis crossed the street, being careful to look both ways even though she was sure that the empty cars passing by didn’t pose any actual danger to her. She had retained her gigantic stature, after all, and Jadis was fairly certain that she could bench press a car if she was so inclined to. Reaching the entrance to the detective business, Jadis let herself in.

The door was small, sized for regular people, and she had to carefully duck through the doorframe to avoid either hitting her head or possibly breaking the lintel with her strength. Once inside, she climbed up a flight of dark-stained stairs to reach the second floor, where a door with a cloudy glass window waited. The glass had three words on it, with the first word going horizontally across the middle while the second and third words made a circle around the first.

Destarious, Private Eye.

“Okay, I guess this is the right place,” Jadis smirked.

Opening the door, Jadis was greeted by the sound of someone typing away on an old-fashioned typewriting. Seeing who that person was and how they were dressed, Jadis almost tripped over her own heels.

Lyssandria was sitting behind a wooden desk, the aforementioned typewriter in front of her and a vase of imaginary white lilies to her right. The goddess of beauty was the same as always, breathtakingly gorgeous in every way, yet she was completely different from her usual appearance. Lyssandria’s hair had been done up in an elegant vintage style that exposed the ruby studded earrings she wore. The goddess had on a pair of librarian-style reading glasses that enhanced her effortless sexiness rather than detracted from her supernatural beauty. She also had on a red, lowcut blouse that matched the color of her lipstick, as well as the crimson of her manicured nails.

When the goddess paused her typing and looked up at Jadis, she smiled wide enough to reveal her perfect white teeth.

“Good afternoon, miss,” Lyssandria spoke in a completely unexpected Brooklyn accent. “How can I help you today?”

It took Jadis a moment, but when her tongue finally untied, she managed to speak without sounding like a complete idiot.

“Yes… I’m here to see… Destarious.”

“You must be Mr. D’s three o’clock appointment,” Lyssandria continued with a heart melting smile. “Go right in, Miss Ahlstrom, he’s waiting for you.”

After only a second of hesitation, Jadis walked over to the only other door in the room and put her hand on the handle. Before turning the knob, she looked back over her shoulder at Lyssandria, one eyebrow raised in confused curiosity.

The goddess smiled and gave her a saucy wink before getting back to her typing.

Without further ado, Jadis pushed the door open and entered D’s office.

“I knew the moment she walked in through my door that she would be trouble,” a manly voice straight out of a noir film narrated. “Her face was made to break hearts, but her fists were made to break faces.”

“Oh god,” Jadis barely stifled a laugh at the absurd sentence.

D was sitting behind the concept of a large, messy desk that had been strewn with non-existent file folders and crumped sheets of paper. A figment of a trash can next to the imaginary desk was overflowing with more crumpled cases, and the impression of file cabinets lining the walls were also similarly stuffed beyond capacity. An imaginary ceiling fan slowly turned overhead, causing the indistinct cloud of cigarette smoke in the air to lazily swirl in the dim light. D was wearing the idea of a fedora, trench coat, and pinstriped suit. Leaning back in his leather chair, she could see the cigarette between his teeth, despite not being able to visualize his face at all.

“She was a tall drink of water,” the narration continued. “The kind of drink a drowning man would fight over. I should have known better—I did know better, but I couldn’t help myself. I welcomed that glass of arsenic into my heart like a sucker dying of thirst.”

“D, I’m not going to ask if you’re serious right now, because I don’t want to waste a question and I know you’re never serious,” Jadis said as she took a step to the side to avoid hitting her head against the ceiling fan that wasn’t there. “But I do wish you’d explain what in god’s—excuse me, what in your name this is all about.”

D didn’t change his lazy posture, but his hand flicked open a nondescript lighter which he brought to his face to ignite his cigarette. After letting out a puff that filled the space between them, he snapped the lighter closed with a flick of his wrist.

“I thought this was a more appropriate setting than my usual abode,” the mad god explained in his usual voice. “Considering the topic of discussion you have planned for our tête-à-tête today.”

“It certainly is a vibe…” Jadis commented as she waved the smoke out of her face. Oddly the smoke didn’t smell anything like cigarettes and instead reminded Jadis of the cookies that D usually had out for her. “I’m not complaining, either. I’m glad to see it’s just Lyssandria here today, too. Last time was kind of overwhelming.”

“Don’t get used to it,” D smirked. “You’ve drawn a lot of attention. The others are watching your progress with… interest.”

While Jadis pondered the meaning behind the pause D had affected, the god sat forward and put his elbows on the desk while lacing his fingers together. He motioned with a nod of his head at the seat before him.

“So. Take a seat, Miss Ahlstrom. I know you’re a busy woman and I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting. What business would a fine, upper crust lady like you have for an old gumshoe like me?”

Jadis did as told, struggling a bit to fit her rear into a chair that was not built to accommodate a woman of her stature. She felt decidedly less elegant with the way her knees were forced up to her chest, so she kept her ankles together while letting her legs slip off to the side.

“Well, Mr. D,” she said, deciding to just play along with her patron’s game. “There’s a new woman in my life that I have some serious concerns over. I was hoping you could—do a little investigation into her background for me.”

“Name the dame,” D said after taking another drag on his cigarette.

“I think you might know her,” Jadis drawled. “Her name is Maeve. So, officially, what I want to ask is: Did the Fetch I know as Maeve have any participation, knowingly or otherwise, in any of the espionage that is being performed against me and my family?”

D put out his cigarette in the thought of an ashtray before turning slightly in his chair to pull open a file cabinet drawer. He mumbled to himself for a few seconds as he rummaged through the drawer, eventually pulling out a file folder. Slapping it down on the cluttered desk between them, he opened the folder to reveal a thick collection of papers that Jadis had no ability to read.

“Maeve,” D grumbled. “Maeve… Ah! Here we are. Maeve. She’s an interesting character, that one. She’s got a file on her name longer than my bed sheets. Stays active. Surprisingly devout. Takes her job seriously. However, I’ve got no record of her having any involvement in any infiltration or espionage against you, aside from that little stint in Countess Voclain’s court. She’s clean.”

Clean. That wasn’t exactly the description Jadis was expecting to get as far as the apparently deranged Fetch went. While D had been unusually straightforward with his answer regarding Maeve’s lack of involvement in any spying that had been done against her, the god’s answer had spawned more questions than it had answered. What did staying active mean? Or why was it surprising that Maeve was devout? Or what did D even consider devout to be? And what, exactly, was Maeve’s job? Did he mean the jobs she took as a spy, or something else?

Jadis could only ask two more questions of D, and one of those was reserved for a very particular question, so she would just have to deal with the mystery. At least she now knew that Maeve hadn’t been involved in anything against her thus far. Relatively speaking.

“I suppose my next question is more hypothetical, then,” Jadis shifted slightly in her too-small seat. “Will Maeve betray me or my family if I hire her as a spy?”

Jadis could see the grin on D’s indescribable face. He leaned back in his seat, then used a finger to flick his hat up and out of the way of his utter lack of eyes. His next words were accompanied by a one-sided shrug.

“Who can tell? That’s the problem with free will. We can make all the predictions and educated guesses we want, but there’s really no knowing which way the dice will land until they’ve stopped moving. Now, don’t frown at me like that, sweet cheeks. I’ll tell you this much. Based on her file, this here Maeve isn’t the kind who can be bought.”

D’s finger tapped the page in front of him.

“She’s the kind of dame who does what she thinks is best. Once she commits to a thing, she’ll see it through to the end. Of course, whether or not she’s committed to your cause is a whole ‘nother question.”

Yes, it was. And that was a question Jadis was dearly tempted to ask. However, she had already asked two questions so far and had only one left. By the laws she had agreed to, Jadis had to reserve one of the questions for imperial use. Essentially, the emperor got to ask the final question, not her.

Jadis had not sought out imperial approval before embarking on the oracle ritual with Eir. She didn’t really have the time. Or really, she just didn’t want to waste a day waiting for some kind of official response from the aged emperor. She didn’t think the nice old elf would keep her waiting intentionally, but he did move at a rather slow, deliberate pace. So, as a kind of half-way measure, Jadis and her lovers had come up with a sort of middle-ground question based off of the information that they had gained from the recent cultist attack that they figured Emperor Somerulf would likely appreciate. He might get mad at her and Eir for taking action without consulting him, but Jadis doubted he would do much more than scold them. After all the grief his sons had put her through, she figured she was owed a little wiggle room.

“Just one more question,” Jadis tried to affect the same casual air that D was so good at portraying. “This one is just as much for a friend, as it is for me.”

“Lay it on me, toots,” D said as he pulled another platonic ideal of a cigarette from his breast pocket and lit it up.

“Where should The Hero Wilhelm go to best fuck with the plans of the Cultist of Samleos who is known as ‘The Playwright’?”

Aila, Eir, and Thea had argued that the wording of the question was too vague. Why not ask for a specific location, or an identity that could be tracked, or the location of their base? Kerr, Sabina, and Sorcha had all agreed with Jadis, however, that a plain question would likely result in an unhelpful answer from a god like D. Spicing the query up so that it would be more likely to lead to an interesting and entertaining confrontation was by far the best way to get D to give them an actually useful answer.

Alex’s only input had been to add the profanity, otherwise the question wouldn’t sound like it had come from Jadis.

“Oooh,” D crooned with obvious amusement on his existential crisis of a face. “You’re getting to know me a little better, aren’t you? Alright, sugarbob, here’s the deal. You tell that boy scout Wilhelm that if he wants to throw a monkey wrench in that delightfully insane sadist’s corn flakes, he needs to get his shiny ass to Lombardy. I know, I know, he’s all wrapped up on that west coast swing around Leath. Trust me. He needs to go to Lombardy.”

“Alright, I’ll let him know what you said,” Jadis answered sincerely. “What he does with the information, though, I’m not going to say.”

“Isn’t that how it always goes?” D smiled. “Anyway, I’ve got a dinner appointment to keep so you’re going to have to skedaddle.”

D rose to his feet and, adding to the list of things that had surprised Jadis so far in that visit, the god actually walked over to the door and held it open for her to leave.

“Oh, thank you,” Jadis said as she got to her feet with as much grace as she could considering the difficulties of the too-small furniture. “I, uh, appreciate all your help, Detective D.”

“No trouble,” D replied with an exaggerated accent. “Just keep up the good work corrupting avatars to your side. That shit is the—”

Destarious’ words were cut off as the front door to the office opened and an oddly familiar man stepped through. He was tall and had a broad chest, and he had a blond, well-trimmed beard. He was wearing a blue suit with a trilby hat and his brown leather shoes shined so bright they were practically mirrors. Jadis knew she knew the man, but struggled to place the face until Lyssandria chirped a delighted greeting.

“Val, baby!” the goddess got to her feet and rushed over to her husband’s side. “You’re late! I thought you had forgotten all about me!”

“You are never far from my mind,” Valtar said with a loving smile before placing a tender kiss on his wife’s cheek. “I was delayed. Charos is… displeased with a few recent events.”

“And that big fat man-baby went crying to daddy, eh?” D cut in with a sneer of ill-concealed contempt. “No surprise.”

Valtar’s kind expression shifted into a stern look of reprimand and he turned his gaze onto his stepson.

“Destarious. Must you be so antagonistic? And must you put on these ridiculous scenarios every time I visit?”

“I must, and not everything I do is about you, dad,” D snarked. “You didn’t notice the albino elephant in the room?”

Valtar’s gaze shifted to Jadis, who was still standing awkwardly next to D. His expression softened almost imperceptibly before he gave her a small nod.

“Jadis,” he greeted her. “I hope you are doing well.”

“Doing pretty good, relatively speaking,” Jadis answered with a shrug. “How about you?”

“Very well, thank you,” Valtar replied with a slight twinkle in his eye.

Jadis got the feeling that something about her casualness amused the god, rather than bothered him. Which, when she glanced down at D, she saw was just making the chaotic deity more peeved.

“Okay, out you go,” Destarious said as waved his parents away while simultaneously shoving Jadis towards the door. “I’ve got places to do and shit to be and I ain’t gonna waste my time watching you all flirt. Vamoose!”

In seconds, Jadis found herself back out on the city street, only this time rather than being alone in a sea of non-existent pedestrians, she had the God of Order and the Goddess of Beauty standing next to her. Lyssandria had her arm linked with Valtar, and the dolled-up deity was gazing up at her handsome husband with abject adoration. Valtar, for his part, looked significantly happier with his lover at his side than when she had met him in his divine realm. However, before he led Lyssandria off to whatever constituted as a date between married gods, he looked up at Jadis and gave her a considering look.

“I won’t tell you what or what not to do,” Valtar spoke with deliberate slowness. “However, I want you to know that I do not consider your influence to be corrupting to my avatars. Nor am I insulted if you happen to poach a few. Just bear in mind that other gods may not feel the same way.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Jadis told the god, though she felt like she was missing a piece of the conversation. “And, uh, have fun on your date.”

“Oh, we will,” Lyssandria winked at Jadis as the world around her began to fade out of existence. “Now, come on, Val. You’re going to treat me to a strawberry milkshake at the drive-in theater, and then I’m going to treat you to something special in the back of the car.”

The last thing Jadis saw as her soul slipped out of D’s realm and back to Oros were the backs of Valtar’s ears turning bright red as he walked down the sidewalk with his beautiful wife pressed tightly against his side.