Walking into the Lounge was like stepping from absolute darkness into bright light. While many of those gathered weren't capable of seeing souls, almost all could feel energy, or had sense 'aura'. It was a common skill among practitioners of magic, both studious and natural. And Hell's Coffee Lounge was awash in it, the power of Gods and Demons, to the extent that it was nearly tangible. It felt like standing in the surf, the tides tugging at your feet, reminding you of the unfathomable depths of the sea, threatening to drag you to the ground if you weren't careful. Even for those who had done business here before, it took a moment to adjust to an envionment to swamped in natural energy, functioning as a nexus of powerful multiversal energies, as well as having soaked in the power of some of the most dangerous beings known to man. Archdemons sat side by side with angels of vengeance and justice, great ancient sorcerors dealing with legendary elemental forces. Creatures that made and shaped the destiny of their own homeworlds, in the one neutral ground that could house anyone, from man to God to the unknown.
As eyes adjusted to the metaphysical glare, a brightly lit room was revealed, built seemingly from a light wood. Tables of all sorts and shapes, covered in food, games, and ancient mechanical devices stretched out seemingly infinitely, and yet when one did not concentrate, the room was only the size of any other coffee lounge. At the chairs sat beings from all walks of life, performing all manners of tasks. Some had come to make deals, bargaining with the lives of billions and the fate of worlds, selling their souls, or perhaps their services. Others had come to play games, performers and musicians, actors and writers, exposing works of genius and insanity, some elaborate beyond what mere mortal senses could detect. And lastly, there were those who had come to experience the unique experience and cuisine offered by this place, the nexus of multiversal travel where there were no limits.
And yet, in all of this mess, there was not a single instance of violence. Even in cases where the killing intent was practically tangible, beings of pure darkness and light resolved to glaring at each other from opposite ends of a chess board.
Emerging from the strange, constantly shifting architecture of the infinite-yet-finite Coffee Lounge, came a figure that was unusual even by the standards of such a place. A woman in a bright red suit, covered in golden sparkles, beneath which a bright white undershirt could be seen. Her hair, hanging back in two massive pigtails, seemed to twist around her body like a pair of twin snakes, their glistening almost metalic sheen constantly shifting color, as if a rainbow had been trapped within. In one hand she held a long black cane, it's golden head shaped like a small child's head, it's tip cased in gold. Each long nail was metallic, and in them could be seen twisted, discolored reflections of her surroundings, as well as the occasional foreign sight. In her other hand she held a large red top hat, it's edge embroidered with golden thread, sparkling as brightly as her suit did. And yet, the most noticeable feature about her were her eyes, or her lack of them. For where in any other human would be eyes, were too large twisted mirrors, whcih reflected the eyes of whomever she looked at at the time. And, even as one would look into them, they would begin to see things in the reflections, secret things, things that they didn't want to see, torn from their deepest subconscious.
"How LOVELY! It's been such a long time, and so many old faces! Oh, I've been expecting you of course, and it's always nice to see a new soul here. Absolutely beutiful, wouldn't you say? I'm delighted." Her gaze swept the group, and with it came the feeling of being... naked, somehow. Exposed. Her gaze saw through lies, saw through deceptions, and it felt like all of their secrets had been laid bare for anyone to scrutinize. Hairs stood on end, and clothes moved in a faint, playful breeze that did not exist, and could not be felt. She put on the top hat, doing a little twirl, before seemingly materializing from thin air in front of Teo. "Oh, aren't you a darling. Welcome, Teo, there's a chair and a drink ready for you." And yet, even as she spoke, an equally bewildered Mithias found himself confronted by the same image of a brightly smiling woman. "And you, too, Mith. We're going to have business to discuss." She placed a single nail on his chest, the touch burning like fire, and yet at the same time somehow relaxing him, as if he'd just walked out of a hot shower. "You've found quite the pretty bauble."
With a spin and a twist, the woman was back in her place once more, or both of them, it had been quite unclear. "I must introduce myself, of course! My name is Deus Ex Machina, Lord of Insanity, the Infinite Muse, the Playwright, First of the Shards of Chaos, the Inconsistency. But I prefer to be called Bob."
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