| Logs |
2006-09-25
| Dreams |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
Where Soul Meets Body II
Jason blinks, confused as he squints into the dark. "Hello?" he calls out, trying to pinpoint the noise as he gets to his feet... his hand instinctively goes to his face, wiping off the slobber... while he appreciates the dog's thanks, it's still yucky. The sobbing is heartbreaking, as if a small child had been abandoned.
Jason grimaces, moving towards where he thinks the sobbing originates. "Please, don't be afraid... what's wrong? Where are you?" He tries again, having all but forgotten his good deed from moments before, forgotten his irritation at seemingly being led around by the nose with cryptic gifts and blunt situations to use each, with no clue as to why. The wretched noise is like a knife in his gut.
A building looms up out of the darkness before Jason as he moves forward, and in front of it is a tree with groaning, drooping branches. Seated beneath it is a tiny sobbing child dressed in not much more than a sackcloth dress, rubbing her grimy face with tiny fists. At sight of Jason she catches her breath in fright, her face pale in the darkness, and goes still. Jason puts on what he hopes is a comforting smile and stops where he is. "Hey, hey... no need to be scared. I'm a... I'm a little lost," he murmurs, self-deprecatingly. "But you sound like you're a little worse off than me. Are you okay, honey?"
The child is silent for a moment... then she pushes herself to her feet, her light colored, slightly slanted eyes never wavering from watching Jason. She takes one step to the side, her bare feet making no noise, and raises her arms towards the lowest hanging of the tree's branches -- then looks wordlessly at Jason. Jason blinks, trying to decipher that. "Are you... are you saying you need help getting into the tree, dear?" he queries. He moves a little closer, not wanting to scare her, but he does glance curiously at the building, wondering if she lives there... and what she's doing wanting to climb a tree at this time of night.
She shakes her head wordlessly, pointing with both hands at the tree's branches. It's a tall tree, and even though the branches are drooping quite low, they're still a bit above Jason's reach. The wind chuckles breathily, whispering through the branches and making them groan slowly. Jason nods. "Okay... are you saying there's something up there you want?" he tries again, now squinting at the branches themselves in the starlight, trying to see what she's indicating.
Looking again, Jason can see at least part of the reason the branches are drooping -- they're heavily laden with fruit. Apples, it looks like -- in the dim light they seem red and ripe and delicious looking. The little girl is a bit gaunt looking too, now Jason's taking a closer look -- instead of the normal round arms and legs, and plump cheeks of a toddler, this girl seems to be suffering from a lack of food. She nods slowly at Jason's query, glancing at him, then reaching again up towards the fruit-laden branches, longing in her body language.
Jason finds his mind wandering in spite of himself... apples are present in many mythological stories. And considering the recent circumstances, he finds himself wondering if any of these apply. But he pushes that thought aside... with no outside facts or information, he is going to do what he would do even were the events leading up to this not so suspicious -- he follows his heart. "Hold on a moment, sweetie," he assures, and reaches into his pocket for the last item.
He can feel the tiny walking stick in his hand, although as he pulls it out and looks at it in his palm he realizes it's not actually that tiny -- it's a normal sized walking stick. Rubber capped end, nice strong carved handle to grasp, and a sturdy dark brown wooden shaft. Jason nods, expecting this turn of events. Without hesitation, he grips the stick... and then tries to knock down an apple from the hanging branch.
The branch is easily reachable with the stick, but it takes a bit of effort to actually shake the branch enough to break an apple free -- the branches are all a bit interwoven. However, Jason is resolute, and with a couple more firm whacks on the branches, he gets an apple loose. In fact... he gets a small rain of them! Jostling that one branch enough seems to have shaken them all. Jason blinks and whoas, trying to protect the little girl from the unexpected rain of apples. "Careful!"
The little girl gives a small, inarticulate cry of joy, running over to grab up an apple and take swift, ravenous bites from it. She beams up at Jason, eyes shining and chewing with her mouth open. She waves a hand over her head, gesturing as if she wants more things to fall. Jason chuckles. "You sure? Well, I've got no problem... fruit is meant to be eaten, and it looks like you could use the food," he comments, looking back up to see if he can get more fruit with another couple solid whacks.
The little girl gives a delighted gurgle of laughter, darting to one side so she's out of the way of Jason and the apples. She dances happily in place, eating her apple as she watches Jason knock more of them down. Once Jason's finished shaking the tree branches with the walking stick, and the apples have stopped raining down, she looks around and starts collecting the ripe fruit up into a neat pile. Curiously enough the tree seems better off too -- the branches are no longer quite so droopy, and the groaning of stress has stopped as well.
Jason hunhs at this turn of events. "What's your name, honey?" he queries, now turning his attention fully to the girl, wondering if she has any answers to give. The little girl beams at Jason, then shucks unashamedly out of her sackcloth dress and starts filling it with the apples. As he watches, Jason realizes the 'dress' really is like a sack, such as a very poor family might use -- there are tiny holes for her head and arms, and a string to bunch it up and tie it around the girl's waist. Jason's not quite sure how she does it, but all the apples fit -- all but the one she's eating, and one more. She pads over to Jason with an apple in each hand, and smiles sweetly up at him as she holds out the perfect, uneaten apple to him.
Jason blinks and turns away instinctively as the little girl strips. "Oh-kay..." he murmurs, giving the girl some privacy. "Either she doesn't talk, or she's too shy to talk... maybe the building has answers?" he mutters, thoughtfully, looking back at the house... and the he sees the girl in front of him, giving him the apple. "Uhm... thank you," he replies, taking it without looking right at her. The nude little girl beams happily at Jason again, her silvery gray eyes sparkling. Still chewing on her own apple, she trots past him towards her sack of apples.
Jason finally turns his gaze back to her and her sack, wondering what she's going to do now... if she will not speak, maybe her actions will speak for her. He pockets the apple without looking at it. The little girl is standing by the sack of apples, still busily eating her own, and when she notices Jason looking at her she waves cheerily at him. Then she grabs the end of the sack, dragging it behind her as she heads around the tree's trunk into the darkness.
Jason tilts his head around, slowly following her... is she just bringing the apples away for herself, or for someone else too? Once she's passed the tree trunk, he can't seem to see her any more, actually. Jason groans at the disappearing girl. "Great. Well, that was entirely unhelpful," he mutters, and reaches into his pocket for the apple. "Don't suppose you know what's going on, do you?" he queries ostensibly to the apple as he takes a closer look.
The apple, while delicious and appetizing looking, does not appear to be gifted with the ability to speak. Hm... then again... is that... chanting he hears? Jason blinks, and, after his face scrunches up into this odd expression, he lifts the apple to his ear, wondering if it's really coming from the apple...
Hm... thankfully, no -- the apple is not chanting at him. It looks like there are big double doors on the front of the building before him, and the soft sound of chanting is coming from within. Jason puts the apple back in his pocket. "Okay... I'll bite... wonder if someone's going to offer me a pomegranate in there..." he mutters, going up to the double doors and testing them to see if they open, though he doesn't pull hard enough to open wide.
The sound of soft chanting is definitely coming from within... is this a temple? -through the slightly ajar door. Pushing the heavy door aside enough to peek within, Jason is met with the scent and clouds of heavy incense. Huge racks of candles flicker eerily within, the only lighting in the night-dark building. In alcoves along the side walls Jason can half-spot what seem to be people or statues (it's hard to tell) frozen in writhing pain or agony -- some are dismembered, others in the process of being tortured or murdered.
A small, dark-clad congregation kneels in a row at the front of the temple, below where a black-robed priest stands. Behind him is what is obviously their religious icon hanging on the wall -- a brutally murdered man caught in his death agonies. As Jason watches, the congregation files silently back to their pews, and the priest solemnly puts away a covered basket and a shining, cloth-covered chalice of some sort. From the half-heard murmurs Jason's caught, it suddenly, horrifyingly registers -- the priest has just completed some sort of cannibalistic ritual with the congregation!
Jason stares... to have gone from helping a girl with apples, to this horror... "What the fuck?!" he demands suddenly, afraid, fumbling at his jacket for a moment and feeling for the comforting bulge of his gun.
The entire church goes silent, and almost as one they all turn and stare at Jason.
Part of him wants to flee, but he stands his ground, his shock and anger hardening his resolve, giving him strength. "Who are you people?! What is this place?! And how the hell dare you do what you are doing?" he shouts, louder now.
Pale, half-seen faces stare at Jason. The silence is almost palpable. The priest finally calls, "Who are you, son? Come in... let us see what manner of man you are."
Jason snorts. "What manner of man I am?" he retorts, taking a step in, and then another. "I'm not the one eating other people... I'm not the one with these hideous depictions masquerading as art," he calls angrily. "Unless, of course, there's some sort of major misunderstanding... but it seems to me that my questions are more important than yours, sir."
The priest draws in a slow breath, seeming to loom above the congregation as he stares at Jason with burning eyes, "You... you are one of them, aren't you? Do you bear the Mark of the Beast?!"
Jason blinks, sneering. "The mark of the..." And then he freezes... and takes a closer look at this 'religious icon.' Jason feels his stomach drop as he realizes what he instinctively reacted to as 'a horrible murdered man' was, in fact, a christian crucifix. And that the basket and chalice what very likely the instruments of communion. "Right. And the award for making the biggest ass of ones' self goes to me," he mutters, flushing.
The black-clad priest begins preaching to Jason and his small, silent, passive congregation. Curiously, about half of them are hooded, and most of them turn back towards him as he speaks. The priest is charismatically dynamic, pacing back and forth, and his angry voice often berates his flock as he shakes his finger at them to emphasize his points, "Yes, the Mark of the Beast! The Sign of the Monstrous Jezebel, the natural result of Woman ripped free from the God-granted control of Man! For lo, she was placed in a beautiful, perfect place to serve God and be the helpmate of Man -- what's the first thing she does? I ask you, what does she do?!" The priest flings out his arms and shouts angrily, "She is seduced by the devil! The Evil one himself -- she follows his orders and eats the apple forbidden to her by God and Man! But does that stop her? I ask you, does that stop her?!"
The priest sighs in melodramatic exhaustion, then practically growls, "Ooh, no -- no, no, no. As if that's not bad enough -- no, then she has to go and seduce the innocent Man with her wicked, devilish wiles!" His voice raises again in righteous indignation as he shouts, "This -- this is why God has cursed the evil Woman! This is why she is to always be subordinate to the wishes of Man, to bear children in pain, to cover her head in shame -- because it's her fault we're no longer in the Garden of Eden!" He whirls, pointing dramatically at Jason, "Come forth, my son. Come forth and show us all you are free of her evil taint!"
Jason finds himself getting angrier as the man speaks, disgusted by his words. It was bad enough he's heard the implication of the story of Genesis, but to hear it from this man's mouth makes his own mouth fill with bile. "You... are so full of shit," he snarls, fishing the apple from his pocket and showing it to the priest. "Go fuck yourself," he informs the man, throwing it at his feet.
The congregation draws back with an audible gasp, some of the nearest scrambling to get away from the apple rolling past them. The priest seems practically to inflate, though, his head rising and his eyes sparking with fury. "Ssssssso! You, profaner, dare enter this holy place with your vileness and your filth?!" As the apple rolls up the aisle towards the priest, he throws out a hand, shouting, "Get thee away from me, Satan!" There's a rumble of thunder outside, and lightning flashes starkly outside the building, lighting it up luridly. For a disorienting second Jason can't tell which are the pale, gaunt faces of the terrorized statuary and which of the agonized congregation -- but the priest seems to have grown, casting a twisted, writhing, almost skeletal shadow across the dying man behind him. His voice drips malice as he hisses, "Take... him!" and obediently the congregation surges forward, claw-like hands outstretched for Jason.
Jason has a moment where he would want to fight back, but his head of steam only goes so far... he quickly realizes he's outnumbered, even if he does have a weapon. He turns and flees. Just before he turns he sees the priest come roaring down the aisle towards him, teeth bared and eyes glowing in fury. Clouds of smoke from the incense and the guttering candles whirl dizzyingly around him, and the congregation falls away from him like ripe wheat before the scythe. He shouts as he closes on Jason, "Tree, tree, I abjure thee, thy will is mine -- hold this sinner fast!"
Jason snorts at the man's words as he breaks into a run... like any Christian priest can actually do magic. But the odds are still against him. He bolts to the door and flings it open, suddenly wishing that dog was here to help him... there's a split second, as Jason darts down the stairs of the building and past the apple tree, that he thinks he hears the delighted gurgling laugh of the pale-eyed girl he saw earlier under the little apple tree. However, its branches are still lifted high and strong now, no longer laden with uneaten fruit, and Jason races past it without difficulty. Behind him he hears a shriek of rage, followed by another roar of thunder and a blinding flash of lightning -- and then a shouted, "Dog, dog, slave of Man, thy will is mine to hold this sinner fast!"
Jason blinks, and then suddenly laughs in glee. "Your slave is freed, priest! And my simple kindness has rewarded me as well! Your will has not the power to match my basic human decency!" he mocks the dark man over his shoulder, daring a glance back as he makes for the gate...
Racing down the pale, twisting driveway in the darkness, Jason suddenly hears a disconcertingly close snarl -- and bounding out of the night comes the big pitbull-like dog, shining teeth bared and mouth open. Just as it reaches Jason, though, it makes a startled yip?! sort of noise, and throws itself to one side. For a confusing moment Jason's running along blind in the darkness with a dangerous looking but happily whuffling dog dancing along next to him... then it gives him a powerful but cheerful shoulder nudge (causing him to stagger slightly), and trots off into the night, tail wagging.
Behind him Jason hears a shriek of rage, followed by another bellow of thunder -- and then a shouted, "Gate, gate, tool to my hand, thy will is mine so slam fast on this sinner!" The wind shrieks and Jason is suddenly blinded by the actinic glare of lightning striking far too close. He shields his eyes from the glare, air burning in his lungs as he runs faster, and he does not dare try his luck again at mocking the man... he hopes the gate will remain open, the way he left it. "Forgive me, good lady, for doubting you," he whispers to the homeless woman and her gifts as he races to freedom...
As Jason glanced back before, he remembers what he saw, burned on the retinas of his memory like a nightmare he cannot forget. In the cloud-scudding night he saw the priest racing after him -- or at least he thinks it's the priest. In a way it looked more like a twisted humanoid face fronting a dark whirlwind of dirt and debris, clawed hands greedily outstretched for Jason, eyes wide and mad, furious mouth screaming, "Monster! How dare you defy the natural order of things?!" Thunder shatters the night again, and it seems like the road twists on ahead of him forever, and he'll never escape, the horrible nightmare behind him will land on him and claw him to tiny bloody pieces and whatever the mark was he'll never know and which way is he running anyway?! Where's the road?! Half blinded by the lightning, Jason staggers... then suddenly notices, faintly glowing, a thin silvery cord stretched out before him.
Jason tries to open his coat, fumbling for his pistol. He's determined to protect himself -- the priest is surely still human, still mortal, isn't he? Then Jason focuses on the cord... is it cord? It seems almost too ethereal to be cord... more like a thin beam of light. "Diana, please, feel what I'm feeling... come help me..." he whispers then, absently reaching out for the cord with his other hand... it feels light and warm and sure in his hand, and as he touches it he feels a small, gentle tug on himself, at about waist level. He's suddenly very certain -- he should run! -- he should not let the priest catch him! He can see where he's headed now too -- following the cord towards the gate there ahead of him. It swings invitingly wide, doing so despite the screaming wind eerily pushing on it.
Jason does not hesitate... he summons the strength he has left despite the ache in his side, and bolts towards freedom, gasping and forgetting his gun once more... trusting whatever instinct urges him to run. The cord does not slacken at all, simply shining serenely silver there before him, leading him out through the gate. The gate swings closed after him, actually bumping him several staggering steps further away as it slams firmly shut -- and suddenly, without warning... the night is silent.
Jason does not register the silence, running to the other side of the road and this time getting purchase on the small pistol and pulling it free... whirling, he turns to face the gate, prepared to shoot if necessary...
It's a lovely, if slightly chilly night. The sky is clear and dazzlingly full of stars, and the cool breeze whispers softly as it caresses his face. Ahead of him is the closed gate, and darkness beyond that. There's a curious sensation of churning, boiling movement in the blackness... but then it's gone. A passing night bird croaks harshly as it flies by... and then there's only the wind for company... the wind, and a faintly glowing little silvery thread leading away from him.
Jason's brow knits, confused. "What just happened," he mutters dully, even as his eyes find the cord once more. He lowers his hand but does not put away his gun... moving towards the thread, he grasps it once more, wondering if another moment of clarity will ensue. Actually he doesn't need to move towards the thread -- it appears to emanate from him, and lead off somewhere into the darkness. His pistol feels a bit funny, though -- larger or rounder than he remembers the grip being.
Jason stops in his tracks at this confusing feel, and lifts his gun to look at it. And he touches the thread, trying to figure out what it's about... ah, that's the reason -- in his haste Jason grabbed the apple out of his pocket instead of the pistol. The thread doesn't feel any different than before, but he does have a small tickle of curiosity, wondering where it leads off to. Home, maybe?
Jason looks at the apple stupidly. "I thought I threw you away..." he argues with the apple. But he grudgingly puts it away, and instead concentrates on the thread... at the moment he's still lost, and the thread is the only lead he has. So he follows it... but first giving the finger in the direction of the gate. Absently, he tries to decipher what it's about... he remembers from Dungeons and Dragons that people who take a journey on the astral plane are tethered to their bodies by a silver cord. Or alternately it might be one of the strands cultivated by the Fates of mythology... or maybe it's completely something else.
It's a pleasant walk, actually, following the relatively straightforward path of the silver cord. Curiously it seems to obey traffic laws, leading him to turn and cross roads at intersections, for example, instead of simply stretching in a straight unbroken line before him. As he makes one last turn he realizes he's next to the little all-night grocery store he was aiming for in the first place. The cord leads past it.
Jason hmms thoughtfully. "Are you going to let me get groceries?" he asks the cord, taking a step towards the store to see if the cord will let him. The cord remains ahead of him, no tighter and no looser. There's no feeling of menace or anything either... just the little store sitting there peacefully on the other side of the parking lot. Jason shrugs... he has no idea what this is about, but he's at least going to fill Mike's list. He heads into the store then, putting the apple away.
A few minutes later Jason has the groceries Mike wanted in a little bag with him. The silvery cord was almost impossible to see in the fluorescent light of the store, but once he's outside again Jason spots it leading away from him, shining serenely in the night. Jason nods at the serene cord. "Right, okay, let's see where you take me now..." he drawls to it, knowing how ridiculous he must sound talking to inanimate objects, but following nonetheless.
Following the silvery thread, Jason shortly finds himself on familiar ground, entering the park and approaching the Airstream. There's someone seated at the table he'd been working at earlier, head down as if sleeping. The cord, curiously enough, seems to lead to this person. Jason purses his lips, putting the bag down as he walks over and fishing for his wallet. He suddenly suspects he knows who this is. "Sure you still don't want any money?" he queries of the figure.
There's a moment of staggering disorientation as he approaches the figure, where his brain insists that's him there -- a weird sideways yanking feeling -- a moment of sleepiness... and then he's raising his head from the table where he'd been sleeping. Jason blinks sleepily, and then groans and bonks his head on the table. "Well, fuck. I go through all that, and I didn't even get Mike's groceries." He finally lifts his head again, and checks his watch, to see how long he's been conked out.
Funnily enough, as he mentions Mike he hears Diana's happy laughter -- and a moment later, almost skipping, Diana comes into sight with Mike. She's got her arm through his, and she's wearing a very nice new outfit! The two of them are gazing at each other and smiling as they turn the corner, but then they both turn and, still smiling, look at the Airstream and Jason. Diana beams, waving, "Hi, lollipop! We're sorry we're late! Did you get Mike's message? We went out to dinner 'cause he was so nice and indulged me shamelessly!" Mike chuckles, then curiously asks, "What's that?" nodding towards a small paper bag on the path leading to Jason.
Jason blinks and stares stupidly at the bag. And then, as if afraid of what he might find, he reaches into his jacket pocket... solid and reassuring, there's a pistol under his grip... and next to it the tactile smoothness of something else.
Diana tilts her head curiously at Jason, "Something wrong, pet?" Almost trembling, Jason reaches in and takes the object out... there's a bright, deliciously red apple in Jason's hand. Diana murmurs, "Oooh, pretty!" Mike smiles a bit at her enthusiasm.
Jason drops the apple onto the table as if it were a snake. "Okay. That goes beyond weird, and into the realm of creepy," he murmurs.
The apple thunks solidly on the table, rolling a bit. Mike looks a bit startled, but simply picks up the bag and looks into it. "Oh, the groceries. Thanks, guy." He looks back up at Jason thoughtfully, unsure what's wrong.
Jason shakes his head in response. "Jesus H. Christ..." he mutters... and then reflects at how ironic that oath is. "Uhm... perhaps you guys better come in... I just had an experience that was pretty freaky," he suggests, hesitantly picking the apple back up.
Diana leans over to run her fingers lightly along Jason's brow, inadvertently also giving him a lovely view of her décolletage, were he in any condition to appreciate it, "Sweetheart? What's wrong?" Mike thinks a moment... then simply nods and steps into the Airstream, leaving the door open behind him. Jason can hear him rustling around as he works in the kitchen.
Jason shakes his head. "Inside, love. I need brightly lit, safe surroundings," he murmurs to her quietly, taking her hand and leading her inside.
Diana smiles brightly, following him into the Airstream and shutting the door behind her, then settling attractively across the divan. Mike smiles a bit at them both from where he's making some dinner for Jason. Diana says cheerfully, "Okay, lollipop! What happened while we were gone? Is that apple a bad one or something, and gave you a stomach ache?"
Mike murmurs amusedly, "He'd have to have actually physically eaten it for it to do that, sweetheart."
Jason smiles grimly. "Not exactly." And he starts laying it out in detail... not the specifics of the studying, but everything after... the homeless woman, the gate and the dog and the little girl... the Christian church and priest personifying something evil and malicious, and the silver cord that led him to the store and then home again... and then that it was all a dream, except he still had the apple and the purchases he made. He feels exhausted by the time he's done.
Diana's curled herself comfortingly around him by the time Jason's finished his story, and Mike puts a cold drink into his hands... and a short while later a nice hot bowl of soup. It's incredibly comforting to be able to get such a far-fetched story off his chest... and not be laughed at. From the comfortable armchair he's relaxed in with his own drink, Mike says thoughtfully, "Okay, that's a classic fairy tale style story, but I've never heard of it with anything but witches as the bad guys?"
Jason blinks, putting down his soupspoon. "Wait, what? I mean..." And then he does remember. A couple years ago he read about this in a class: a fairytale where the hideous old witch embodied the evil, uncontrolled, and sexually free woman who devoured all those who were 'good' and 'normal.' "Damn. You're right. But what... why did this happen? And how... I mean, this was more than a dream. I did things physically. I bought groceries. I still have the damn apple!" he demands, pointing accusingly at it.
Mike shakes his head, "I have no idea, Jason. I'm going to assume you're sure you weren't sleep-walking, yes?"
Jason's brown knits. "I don't know... I mean, wouldn't folks have noticed? People who sleepwalk are obvious, aren't they? And not usually that, er... capable. I mean, are sleepwalkers able to enter in their pin number for a debit card?"
Mike nods, "I figured you'd notice, but I had to ask. Hmm... very odd..." He falls silent, pondering, and Diana says curiously, "Can you still see the cord, lollipop?"
Jason cocks his head, as if he hadn't thought of that, and looks down to his belly. He sees a cord... but after doing a double take he realizes it's not his. It's attached to Diana. "What... the... fuck?" he whispers, suddenly looking up into her eyes. "You have one. A cord."
Diana looks a bit surprised, "I do? Where?" Mike blinks, "A... she does?!"
Jason reaches out, trying to touch it. "I've read that... that there is a silver cord that tethers the soul to the body, when people are said to have out-of-body experiences. And I had one. And now... you have one too, Diana."
Diana looks surprised -- until Jason's fingers cross the cord she apparently can't see. "Ouch!" She puts a hand on her stomach, then smiles with a touch of embarrassment, "Sorry... don't know what came over me." Mike looks utterly boggled!
Jason shakes his head. "If it's the same kind of tether... than you've got a soul too. But why is it out of your body?" he says to himself, trying to follow it without touching it now. Diana's silver cord seems to fade off more quickly than Jason remembers his doing, and it seems to not be quite so... orderly as his -- it apparently leads right through a wall!
Mike says slowly, "So Diana's... not in her actual body then? Or... or could it be the other way around? Could this be her body, and her soul is elsewhere?"
Jason suddenly looks up, excited. "Wait... this is it!" He grins. "This is how we find the Gate! If her soul's not in her body, then maybe it's on the other side of the Gate! Maybe that's what's different about supernaturals!"
Mike looks boggled again, his eyes wide in thought, "So... could this be why they're supernatural?! If so, that means..." he pauses, then darts over to the computer and starts typing madly!
Diana says uneasily, "Lollipop...? Um... is this a bad thing or something? What's going on?"
Jason reaches over and kisses her soundly. "No, love, not at all! This is a very good thing. We just got an enormous clue if I'm right." Diana smiles, still a bit uncertain, but cuddles up to Jason for comfort.