~~Natasha~~
She was going on an adventure!
There was a time, not too long ago, where such a thought would have been absurd. Adventure was not smart. Adventure was how you met an early second death. Survivor bias was a killer, and she would not let the whims of baseless positive thinking get her killed. She made only smart decisions, ones that earned her plenty of money, and status in the Invictus.
And then everything turned upside down. She met a cute boy named Damien, shot him in the head, and got involved in so many things. As a dragon, she'd gained a lot of responsibilities, many that pushed her to step outside her comfort zone. And then she had an orgy while her best friend watched. She met a couple of cute werewolves that she now had sex with regularly, at the same time. She'd seen spirits and ghostly after images, living nightmares, and spoken with what might as well have been some ancient god of death. At this point, she was starting to feel comfortable with being uncomfortable. Mostly. Somewhat. A bit.
Still, as she walked through the Gauntlet behind Matthew and in front of Arturo, she reminded herself that this was dangerous. Adventures like this were how people got killed. So, despite the fact she was going on an adventure with her boyfriends, her best friend, and her best friend's boyfriend, she refused to let her excitement get the best of her. Fear was a better emotion, far more useful, and good at keeping her alive.
She wiped the smile off her face, and tried her best to adopt a frown instead. But after her last trip into the Shadow realm, she didn't feel so scared anymore. Spirits were scary, sure, but not so scary they paralyzed her. They seemed alien, in a real alien way, like from another galaxy sort of way. Their mannerisms weren't human. It was obvious at a glance that spirits did not think like humans or paranormals, and according to the Uratha, they didn't really think at all. They were manifestations of aspects of the physical realm, and everything they did was a reaction to their environment and situations, even if it was an intelligent reaction that considered the past or future.
Which, she supposed, was an argument someone could make about sentient beings. Deterministic universe, no free will, everything is just a chain of causality and chemical reactions and neural pathways, etc. It was a train of thought she didn't waste energy on anymore.
As they stepped out of the Gauntlet, she almost squeaked. Right, right, they were high up, and walking on support beams. Except, that's not what they looked like in the Hisil. Here, she was walking on smoothed metal that glowed, metal that curved under her feet, and metal that felt warm through her shoes. She reached down and touched the flat, filled surface, to make sure it wasn't hot enough to melt her feet.
It was the same building, except no longer were there any hanging lights; the glowing metal served that purpose. As far as she could tell, there weren't any speakers, either. But there was music. It thrummed, fast and frantic, like the heartbeat of a kine on PCP. It almost sounded like drums, but the bass was so thick, she felt it in her skull.
The walls were different, too, with lots of curves that made her want to touch them, and slide along them. Beneath her, she could see spirits floating around, pink and blue with vague human shapes, rubbing along each other and the walls. She didn't need the boys to explain to her what they were, these spirits were aspects of pleasure, sexuality, and joy. The human-shaped ones were obviously created by the humans who came to the club and had sex without end, but there were other spirits down there, too. Some of the creatures that hovered around looked like giant bees, and she had no idea what those were. Others were more obvious, like some sort of giant dragonfly-looking creature, purple, that buzzed around from table to table, leaving behind a white powder from its wings that disappeared after a few seconds. Drugs? Certainly not the pleasure of drugs, but perhaps, the distribution of it. But that made no sense. The spirits wouldn't care about the white powder, and as she watched them from above, she was correct. They didn't care. So why was it doing what it did?
It was a complex ecosystem, where spirits did things. She had no chance of understanding its finer points without intense study, study she was eager to pursue. And that thought made her smile. She had a boss that appreciated such dedication to examination. If Tash wanted, she could get completely lost in studying the spirits, putting together what essentially amounted to a dissertation on them, and Antoinette would both appreciate it, but also read it.
Maybe, just maybe, if she could convince her boyfriends to have a chat with her about the ecosystem of spirits, specifically those in Dolareido, it'd make Antoinette happy? It'd also piss off Avery, though. Making Antoinette happy was one of her primary goals, but she didn't want to make the lives of her boyfriends any harder than she had to.
"They know we're here," Art said, "no need to hide. Just, obey the rules of the city, and Black Blood's dominion over it will keep the spirits from getting in our way."
"W-What are those rules?" Tash said.
Matthew shrugged, and started back along the catwalk the way they came. Much easier, now that the catwalk didn't have holes to fall through. "Hard to say, really. Seems to be a strange balance of the official human law, and the laws the Prince has set up." He started climbing down the support beam, and Tash sucked in a breath. The support structure didn't have the individual rungs anymore, as if such a detail was meaningless in the spirit world; they kind of were, really. The metal was warped and bendy, and it glowed a strange rainbow of colors all the way down to the base. The group slid down them without issue, though she could see Eric struggled with the height, and how with the new support beams, they literally had to slide down them, gripping their sides as tight as they could.
Climbing back up was going to be a pain, but perhaps the Uratha had a different locus for getting back to the physical world.
On the dance floor, things were as chaotic and overflowing with life as they were back in normal Dolareido. The spirits swirled around each other, though it was plain to see some were utterly gigantic compared to others. One spirit in particular, another pink creature with decidedly feminine curves, was slithering around the dance floor, while other spirits came up to rub against herβit. Other strange creatures kept out of the way, some more dragonfly-looking things, and a few more of the odd, large bees, that looked too cartoony and simple to be actual bees. And now that she was underneath the pillars, she could see there was something actually flying around underneath the catwalk, a butterfly creature with a long, snake body, and many pairs of wings. It was glowing different colors, each pulsing with the weird, heartbeat music that wasn't music.
The spirits didn't seem to really care about Natasha or Jessy. Sure, they stopped and looked at them, if 'look' was the right word, considering many of them didn't have eyes, or had many that looked in many directions at once. Maybe they cared a little, but it wasn't enough to stop them from doing whatever it was they were doing.
The Uratha, on the other hand, were enough to force every nearby spirit to take notice. The strange creatures moved aside, some going so far as to flatten their serpent bodies to the curved walls to stay out of the way. She didn't understand how a spirit of pleasure, or joy, or drugs, or pretty lights, or all the various possibilities Dolareido had to offer, could express fear, but it seemed like they were. Fear and discontent. They didn't enjoy the presence of the Uratha.
"They really don't like you," Jessy said, eyes wide as she looked around. Right, this was her first step into the Hisil, and she looked at each spirit like a child's first visit to a zoo. It made Tash giggle, seeing her badass, sporty friend regress to a young girl.
Jessy had owned a cat, before she was turned. It was easy to forget sometimes, that Jessy had a soft side.
Art shrugged, with the exact same mannerism as Matthew. Two peas in a pod, those two. "We're the police. Yeah, they don't like us."
"Self-appointed police at that," Matthew said. "If we let them do whatever they wanted, it'd lead to some ridiculous chaos."
"But not in Dolareido," Eric said.