2192/Devil's in the Details

Devil's in the Details
Date of Scene:	22 June 2020
Location:	Columbia University
Synopsis:	An intellectual discussion peppered with riddles and teases.
Cast of Characters:	Daimon Hellstrom, Meggan Puceanu, Jovian Anderson

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Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Columbia University has a fairly vigourous guest-lecturer program and sometimes, the faculty like to keep things interesting and modern, (and maybe a -bit- controversial) without flat-out ranging into territoriy the students might find problematic. So it happens that one Daimon Hellstrom, controversial author of several books on comparative theology, analyses of modern Neo-Satanism and its ties to reconstructed modern Wiccanism, and Wastern moral philsophy (particularly when bereft of Judeo-Christian trappings) was here to give a talk about the Bible as a purely literary work, which led into a fascinating digression of its sourcing - Zoroastrian Mithraism, which led to a Greco-Roman 'mystery cult' of Mithra, which early Christians had -quite- the beef with, despite their common origins.

Of course, this is all very amusing to the author himself, considering his pedigree as the half-human child of an ancient being of dark mystical power who was actively worshipped as far back as the height of ancient Sumerian civiliation...but that part's just for him to be amused by.
    Dressed well, but with a bit of a casual air (one must both work with and manipulate expectations) Daimon fielded some questions in the hall, and actually kept chatting with a few of the students and faculty afterwards...he also drew a little bit of attention from a few of the female students, and it was noticable that he did. But none of -them- are who he took notice of. There was a particular female student, blonde...that caught his notice, and not for the reasons one might think...alright, not -entirely- for those reasons. He's had luck with this before...his senses keenly attuned to the presence of the mytsical, but this girl? Something's different...he needs to make an excuse to engage her, but subtly...

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
    Columbia's reputation as an institution of higher learning is sterling. Less reckless than NYU across town but still liberal, daresay radical, ideas infuse the student body. Its secret history of social and political rabblerousing aren't so far from the surface behind the esteemed halls and weighty alumni. Injustices perpetrated by its graduates and faculty are a hot topic issue on various social media channels, thrumming happily away. Maybe the idea of guest-lecturers means to distract students from the ivory tower environment their betters live in. Turn a blind eye and all, which leads to a few mutters around a blonde girl who must be daylighting as a student instead of spreading the embers of revolutionary ideas into a conflagration. Not unreasonable considering the earlier graduates of King's College did just the same, right down to stealing British cannons.
    Meggan listens with some interest to her peers. Not speaking, feeling mostly. It's a passive effort while the speaker keeps her attention for the most part. When he finishes up with the questions, groups of two and three carry on talking around her. Their animated chatter reels around lies and borrowed religious motifs, then how colonialism introduced an entirely flawed moral system. "But was it right to force the ideas on a whole collection of peoples with their own beliefs?" Meggan asks, provoking more statements on how that's always happened. Syncretism and sourcing, the arguments of the intellectual devil.
    Up they get when it's clear the lecture ends, questions become less cohesive. See what you've done, Daimon Hellstrom? Made impressionable minds think and spread those ideas like kudzu. Things pop up everywhere.
    She doesn't make a secret of mulling over her thoughts. Chewing her inner cheek, she scribbles down a few last notes. An arrow, a question mark beside a boxed in statement on page two. A girl in yoga pants slides past, knocking her from her reverie. "Oh! Excuse me." Rounded English accent, the kind that sells so well on TV or radio, pops the words. Scrunching up in her chair, she has to almost hover at the top, half standing and half sitting. It's only in that moment she grabs her battered bookbag, a sorry thing that's seen better days and so many heavy books. No need for it to spill its contents. Openings indeed.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson is here because of the relentless question among law enforcement about satanic cults in criminology. He isnt law enforcement any more but the whole question interests him. There are enough news reports and files to incidate cults are real, but how much of a direct hand does darkness intercede in such things? He listens to the narrative and finds it fascinating, but not at all what he is looking for. He isnt a theology student, and he certainly isnt getting a degree in comparative literature any time soon but the subject still interests him so he moves afterwards in hopes of getting a direct word with the speaker.

He finds Meggan's argument interesting since, while he likes individualism as much as the next person, he sided on the side of imposing that via force a long time ago. He can hear her question and approach of the visiting professor and moves slowly himself, not looking quite as...student like with no backpack or pile of books but he is quite intersted nevertheless.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Aside from what draws his attention, Daimon has a little nagging feeling that the girl is familiar somehow...vaguely...not to -him- specifically, but in general? Something on the news? online perhaps? His recall is excellent but this will take a moment. Ahhh...modern academia can be so -compact-, everything he needed came with him in the form of a laptop, a few USB drives, and a few interesting images be brought to have copies made for the students. He easily snaps it all shut into a small case of oddly pale leather. He does take a moment to address the young lady though, "Careful." he says smoothly, as Meggan grabs her bag, "These things always get so chaotic nearer the end, a theme in most religious works too, you'll notice." He comes off as friendly enough, charming, not predatory, not outwardly...but his presence...if Meggan's senses are attuned to such, there's something odd here, not actively hostile but...almost inherently inimical? Controlled yes, but there nonetheless.
    He decides to be bold in his approach, "You'll excuse me for asking but, are you...'somebody'?" he asks, "You seem familiar." it doesn't -sound- like a pickup line, but a genuine question.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
    Familiarity is all about different elements twigging the brain, isn't it? A 400x400 pixel image crammed onto Twitter maybe. A memory attached to a scathing rebuke to a self-important politician or "commentator" online. Healing stains on the immortal stains left by Hell, or a significant duke's plot, not saturated in the right way. Maybe catching Meggan in profile lifting a book up to a fellow student that's being passed for a signature is too like the girl holding a flower or a sign against a firelit industrial complex. She's been that girl too.
    "Here you are, pass it on?" she says, handing off the book to someone separating her row from Jovian. Until the author is right there, singling her out. Daimon has her halted, appraising him with a slight, startled smile. A hopeful murmur from said book's owner propels her out into the aisle, carrying the volume tucked in her hand. Paperback, because who buys hardcover nowadays? Too expensive. She's just a touch connected to the earth and the vibrant currents run through her for those who can see it. "No excusing is necessary. Questions are welcome in places of learning, aren't they?"
    Her hand is halfway to her chest before she catches herself and takes a few steps lower, closer to Daimon and giving Jovian a smile in passing. "Depends on who you ask. I'm a right nuisance who needs to sod off, apparently. Sowing seditious ideas or doing good work." This brings a smile in earnest. "A bit of chaos, maybe. I'm Meggan Puceanu. Meg, if it's easier."

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson takes the book and passes it on, unsure how to react to that. He is about to say something but he isnt immediately sure he is interupting aconversation. He listens a moment and considers and finally accepts that questions are necessary, though he is about half and half. As it is, he finally takes inspiration at the seditous ideas and asks, "Professor do you have practical experience with actual cults? I'm curious about soemthing." He pauses a moment and adds,"Jovian." He doesnt want to appear rude but isnt quite sure that he fits in this situation and feels it out

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon nods to Meggan and his eyes practically light up as she introduces herself...an environmentalist gadfly to some but to -him-...oh...he's heard of her. It's a little-known fact that demons are -incurable- gossips, and anyone who fomented a rebellion? Oh, he'd heard the name, cursed, threatened with unholy torments, but also bandied about, interestingly enough, in the same bitch-fests about some upstart hybrid who shoved off his old man and is cleaning house down below. But that part, that part he keeps to himself, "Ah...online activism with a little bit of a personal touch. I recall now." He doesn't reply to the introduction directly, that would be silly, considering...as he's addressed by the young man you can see his interest shift, just a bit, "Oh absolutely. Al Shaitan's bunch out of San Francisco, the Cult of Zaugurim - small but prenicious, that one - Anton devine's Church of Satan...I like to do a little practical work about my subjects."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
    A gadfly with millions of followers, a spiraling movement prompting her forward, and a spear in hand. The image of a modern Boudicca is compelling, but right now, she holds a book in a place of learning with the Union Jack stretched vertically and horizontally. It would horrify any true-blooded defender of the Isles to see it misused, but she's casual in her descent step by step. A bit measured when Jovian speaks up about cults and cultists. Meggan forfeits the space willingly with a gesture of her hand and half-turning to give them an open corridor to speak in. Never mind a phalanx of seats gathered around for the next conversation about shocking topics, like the failures of democracy or adapting socialist economic models at the state level.
    "Hullo," she adds to Jovian. "Go on. I imagine this is a rare opportunity, isn't it? I can wait, luv, it's just fine." The quick nod welcomes him to hold that focus for a time. When eyes aren't on her, the better to observe with a finely-tuned sense of interest. Interest that means forgetting to blink now and then, eyes widened subconsciously. Pupils that dilate a bit. So easy for a biologist or a psychologist to make claims about that, ones they might not back up.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson arches a brow trying to figure out the subtext here. He understands human...er....intelligent...nature enough to know its here, but he cant figure it out directly except that Daimon might want to talk to Meggan without him here but he isnt being waved off. As it is he drills down a bit more into the cult question. "Law Enforcement seems evenly divided that there is no organized satanic activity across the country while others see it in every nook or cranny. The specific examples answer one question, I guess the bigger one is...how widely spread is the genuine article vs ...other things it is mistaken for." He does notice the lack of blinking on Meggan and starts to notice anomolies much more than he has on Daimon.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Now that's a interesting question to answer for Daimon, he does want to be truthful, he respects knowledge and education, but of course, the blsphemous truth isn't exctly something to share either. He visibly takes a moment, thoughtfully, before responding, "Large-scale organized 'Satanic'" (you can hear the air quotes) "cults and religions exist, but aren't always harmful or dangerous by nature. Smaller groups can be more insular and thus, more dangerous due to the ability to exercise more direct control on their members. There is direct evidence of some of these groups being involved in ritual assaults, the occasional murder, kidnapping, and even thefts, but generally...in my experience - well, here's the 'big' answer - by nature due to doctrinal differences there is no -overarching- 'Satanic conspiracy' in this world. They aren't unified, you see." Truthful, but also an interesting reflection of the Lords of the Splinter Realms themselves...so many claim the name 'Satan' but there -isn't- one anyone's ever met. Not Mephisto, Satannish, his own father...even The Morningstar isn't said being, and 'as below, so above'.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
    Keen to follow the twists and turns of the conversation, Meggan doesn't say much. She pays close attention, though, actively listening between Daimon and Jovian. Blonde hair has a tendency to flow over her face, the slightest nudge used to toss it aside. "Couldn't that be said for most underground institutions? They might not meet in open places or have clear terms and trappings." There's a search for a specific word, but it eludes her. A little frustration blooms, short-lived at best. "To outsiders, they seem awfully clannish and it's easy to start assuming their fingers are in every pie. Freemasons, Illuminati, just a few. Adherents to intellectual individualism seem like a hard group to pin down, as they shouldn't fit with just one size, now would they?" At this point she gives Daimon a look to affirm or deny the statement, still working her lower lip a bit in thought. "Sometimes, a group minding its ps and qs ends up blown up by people with overactive imaginations, ascribing all sorts of things. Happens often enough. All it takes is something taking off, going viral, and next thing you everyone wearing a yellow hat is secretly a supporter of aliens removing immigrants or making them batteries or some nonsense." Worry furrows her brow for a second. Bushwick isn't that far across the city.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson seems a bit confused for a moment and listens to Meggan and gets more of Daimon's statement than he would have thought, "Yeah I guess thats a point. You cant ask 'are all cults satanic' if what they worship or consider satan varies a lot. Better question then, in your experinece investigating these things how many people are tied into something 'real' vs rando wackos who make stuff out of thin air that never actually do anything?" He nods to Meggan, "And how often do the latter become real?

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
At Jovian's question, Daimon's lips curve in a smile, slowly, showing teeth, "Ahhh...now -there's- a question." he notes, and he looks a bit towards Meg as he replies, because he's about to seed quite another inquiry into his reply, "Most such 'Sunday Satanists' aren't organized, or anything more than people looking to justify their own innate leanings with an external philosophy that seems to support them. But real?" He holds up a finger, "Look at the world we live in. Mutants, aliens, technological wonders - magic - if you believe in such a thing...are organized cults of so-called 'devil worshippers' far-fetched? Not at all. Are they -common-? Not at all. But when they are, then that can be dangerous. Learning which is which is the hard part of the investigation. I mean, if someone claims to be an elementally-aspected being who took part in a revolution in Hell, can you with -certainty- automatically dimiss them?"

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
    It would help, in a different place and time, to have the typical unabashedly blank stare and masked expression for nonsensical statements. Meggan isn't that person, for the most part, her head tilted and her eyes still fairly wide. Obviously several of Daimon's statements are selected expressly to garner a reaction and they do just that. "People make grandiose statements often enough we're all becoming deaf. Disbelief ebbs like the sea going out with the bombardment of claims with jsut enough truth to make things possible. Maybe that slide corresponds to increased sightings of people hurling fireballs or aliens in big ships come for reasons other than peace." Her chin lifts a bit, the book she's holding on behalf of another student sliding down her abdomen and angled over to rest against her hip. "It's a common strategy. Repeat something enough until it seems normal. Mate," she addresses Jovian, "probably best to take some things with a grain of salt but keep an open mind. Rarely is it smart to accept things on face value."
    If that isn't calling the kettle black, in a roundabout way. She smiles at Daimon then.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson listens to both and isnt sure that the subtext is here but is very very curious indeed. He considers a statement and then stops a moment and thinks back to what has been said and start sot say something again but is briefly distracted by Meggan...being Meggan. As it is listens and says, "I can't help but keep an open mind with all that is outthere in the world." He also keeps passing books to be signed before he finally adds, "So...how much magic is dependant on belief?" He would assume it does, but all of it? HE has no idea but is curious what these two....whoever they are, might say.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
That elicits an actual chuckle from the half-demon lecturer, "Whether you believe in chemistry or not, a bullet still works." he notes, "-Facility- might require belief, but utility?" he shakes his head, "You needn't know how a car works to drive one, only to build or modify one."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
    Meggan should be herself. Anyone else would be bad. Very bad. Her fingers curl along the spine of the paperback book, and the others twist her hair a little into a tightened spiral that won't hold. Released, the curl unwinds to bounce back where it belongs. "Jumping from cults to magic? I guess that's a fairly easy path to follow. Are people going to start carrying sachets of salt and silver 'round?" She clears her throat to avoid that chuckle being audible, shaking her head a little in kind. Then she holds out her hand to Daimon, book in kind. "A very patient admirer of yours was wondering. Would you sign this? He's back up there."
    Indeed the patient audience member is, a student sort of loitering. Clearly this book has been read a fair number of times.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson says, "I suppose that makes sense. We're approaching areas that I couldnt even comprehend but academically its very interesting." He considers, "I could go on with the metaphore but you rbelief that magic doesnt depend on it is....interesting. I wonder then why so many myths cultivate faith and believe...to improve their own execution?"

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon seems genuinely pleased at the request...honestly, it's nice to be appreciated for something academic, something -human- that he worked on himself, "Of course," he replies, and of -course- he signs it in red ink. Handing it back, he does add, "I do think, though...that you, young lady, might find a certain work of mine interesting, I did a bit of research on mythology that at first seems only tangentially related, like a Celtic-style Faerie-or-Fomor analogue showing convergent name and properties with a Judeo-Christian devil from a Hermetic-style teatise." He takes out a card and writes a single word on it before handing it to her...when she looks, she will see it... 'Plotka'.

Jovian Anderson has posed:
Jovian Anderson doesnt provide a card but does thank the professor, "Thanks, I appreciate it. I saw your facebook page so if I have another question I might ping you there. I appreciate it." He waves to Meggan, "And neat questions.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
    Meggan patiently awaits on the book, though her fellow student comes down to claim it for himself, too, rather than fearing the blonde's about to run away with a prize. G
    Given the nature of ownership and possession, self-discovery praized in the situation, no wonder there could be some small concern about her claiming it. Daimon earns a definite grin out of the guy before he traipses off like the king of a very small patch of land.
    Which leaves her behind. Taking the offered card from Daimon, she doesn't let on whether all of that makes sense. Not entirely. "I intend to read a bit of it. Helps me to understand the underlying principles," she murmurs, "and some of the deeper messages you might have in there. Not something one reading is going to really give away, is it?" Of course it's all a lie. Sometimes the eureka moment isn't intense. It's a soft shift. A sudden turn. Things connect, they mildly shift the fabric of thoughts and insights, giving her a brief pause to look down and up again. Eyes a shade of cinnabar, peculiarly intent, lift to his. "That's a bit of a revolutionary concept and an underappreciated one in certain corners."