Dealing with the Devil

September 22, 2015:

Continuing the scene "Removing the Veve" at Doctor Strange's residence. Rain and Strange deal with Satana.

177A Bleecker Street, New York

The Sanctum Sanctorum of Dr. Strange


NPCs: Wong


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Strange nods and traces a few mystical symbols in the air, creating a teleporting effect that brings the five of them to the living room of the Sanctum Sanctorum. He lays down Satana on a couch and request Wong to bring tea and other drinks for everyone. And clothes for Satana.
Once everyone is settled he continues the conversation. “Well, Ms. Zatara. Usually I would agree. But Satana Hellstrom has killed, probably many times, innocent human beings. She has consumed their life forces and then devoured their souls, completely annihilating her victims. If we allow her to stay on Earth, we are responsible of what she does. But if we return her to her father and then ward against her return, we condemn her to be a demon forever when she could be much more. I’d like to find an acceptable compromise.”

Rain is here. She frowns, faintly. She listens. She rubs the back of her head. "What about doing some sort of penance? Or reparations?" She considers. Captain will accept milk, or water. Probably water to avoid the dreaded cat farts. Granted, he thinks farting on humans is hilarious.

Satana would likely have stayed like a puddle of askewed limbs if it was not for the fact that the feeeling of /otherworldly/ travelling leaves one feeling swimmy, moreso then her head already did, but the shift and tumult -between- leaves her tucking on the couch wrapped in the jacket with eyes clenched until she can stop the darkness even from spinning enough to open them and look out over the room and those gathered, though when Wong comes near enough her jaw flexes and she presses her feet into the couch to swiftly slide -away- from him and sit upright on opposing end of the furnishing.
"Trust me old man, my rudeness is in your favor." Said to Wong. The Romanian accent is there, but just at the lilt and edges of words. Though when Zee just looks at Strange and seems to be more attentive to the sleeping figure of Reese, Satana slowly unravels and leans to pluck at the attire. She'd walk nude before she put herself in something…unseemly. So there better be -taste- in that pile.
Every movement hurt, her lips remained thinly pressed and every onc in a while the corners of her eyes tic'd with it, but instead she just busiedherself with distractions, like they're attempts to assume to know her. "Innocent you say? What makes a human innocent? I do not think wolves ponder that about deer nor get judged for not doing so."
Rain's addition gets a snap of head and a narrow of gaze. "Penance?" A small laugh that only ends in a scowl and cringe. "I am supposed to apologize for being who and what I am, become vegan, I suppose glue feathers on my wings and disavow being a deviant to walk like a penguin." She looks from Strange to Rain and just huffs in disbelief. "Huhn… And to think.."
A pinched article of clothing is cast aside and she just remains somewhat hunched there with her hand on the sofa. "Jesus, just slam your gavel and I'll play along but I need to have a moment…soon."

Strange shakes his head, avoiding to look at Satana because she is nude, and he is old fashioned that way. “Comparing you and your victims to a wolf and sheep is a false analogy, Ms Hellstrom. Wolves and sheep lack sentience, or free will, or souls. Innocence is, of course, a relative concept. But since there was no trial, no jury and no judge for the slain, I will assume innocence. As for you, I can’t blame you for your actions as a thrall of Darque, but you are still a powerful, dangerous woman with no regard for human life. Or are you?” Now he is looking at her, trying to discern if his memory spell succeeded in achieving anything useful.

"Well, no. More that you want to live on this plane without eating everyone's soul and stuff," Rain offers. A shrug. "I have demons as housemates, but they are generally not sucking the life out of things." Pause. "Political conventions are great for dark soul energy, just an fyi." She moves to pet Captain.

Satana has the jacket, and with the way she is leaning it keeps her covered enough, especially since - like a wild animal - she is attempting to keep the wound concealed from others' eyes. That and her own desire to have that aforementioned fit and then go heal via doing… what they obviously do not want her to.
"Okay. So… One man was already killing others, another trading some big time weapons, another thought I was someone worth attempting to follow home at night… " As Satana speaks she holds up a hand and starts to take count, curling fingers in as she does so.
"Okay…so maybe 3 have fallen that may not quite fit the bill of bad enough to pass over notice, but a girls gotta eat." what was done otherwise, Satana does not even want to go into. Being in someone elses power and doing as told because you want to simply /live/? "The rest is none of your business."
Straightening now though, Satana leans back on the couch and crosses her legs, sprawling arms along the back but the coat may fall open but enough is hidden to keep it rated PG-13. Save that unsightly burn where the Veve used to be. "If you are going to make me beg… Do what you have to, but I am not going to beg. I have made some great company, experienced new things, and found different kinds of company. But if you want me to beg to keep it? You got the wrong girl. I will go back to being bored among the masses of /writhing/ subjects before I plead to strangers to prove that I am not something they already know I am not." A small wiggle of hips in emphasis of that word before she goes to inspecting her nails with a small frown.
"I don't take you for that stupid, do me the same kindness, Supreme Bear people."

Blink. "I'm not expecting anyone to beg," Rain shakes her head. She settles quiet. "What would you want to happen? Many people do care for you."

Strange has no easy way to verify is Satana is saying the truth. He had not tracked her movements and crimes until their first meeting, and he is not sure how much of what she did afterwards was her decision and how much was Darque's controlling her.
On the other hand. Soul-eating succubus sorceress.
"Stay here a couple days, as my guest. I am quite sure," or at least hopeful, "we can come up with a suitable arrangement that allows you to stay on Earth, but will also keep humankind safe. I could even write a suitable contract." Which might not work, since she is not a full demon. Another thing he needs to research. A geis might be safe, but mystical compulsions are tricky as hell. The pun being very fitting.

"What do I /want/?" Satana looks at Rain and finally smiles, a slow thing that seeps across lips in a horizontal dance very becoming on the she-demon. What she wants slowly seeps through the air in the form of her natural powers. She is hungry, but it is not a hunger that had dominated under Darques influence, it is refined like an aged and fine wine - directed more pointedly and /attractive/ to all the -wrong- (right) kinds of desires deep in the pit of your stomach. A building heat.
Survival. Satana needs to heal, needs to mend, /needs to feed/; her restraint a wavering thing felt like a shuddering lovers hand running along your cheek… and Rain as well as Strange can feel it like she had done it but had only slowly risen from the couch before them.
"No one here has gotten to know /me/ enough to care about me. It is okay, Rain. I do not need kind words to step off a ledge. I need you all to let me -do- me, and you /do/ you." As Satana states those words she passes Rain and in that moment she trails fingertips through her hair if she does not shy away, lips barely brushing her temple like a whisperborne kiss. "Juste rester la…"
Though when she heads to Strange she gathers the coat to pinch it closed just over her abdomen so he does not shy away due to her exposure. Leaning down her breath shudders in against the desire to cringe and let loose a sound of pain she has never felt before. "Comme tu veux…But I must go… Just…for now." A single digit seeks to trail along his jaw as a hint, as emphasis of the /need/ to leave them…
Righting she looks towards Zee and Reese and in a shift of shadows is gone.

Strange hmms, "wait, I should mention…" that the room and the whole house are heavily warded against teleportation and many other magics. As Satana just realized when her attempt to leave carries her as far as the window closer to Blackeer Street, about five yards from the couch. "That we brought you here because it is one of the few places in the city that can restrain you. My apologies." He looks somewhat embarrassed, as Satana is not really a guest, but a prisoner. "You should also conserve your energy. One of the reasons I asked Rain to come is because she commands powerful healing magics. Better than mine. I am sure she can heal your injuries if you allow her."

Rain rubs the back of her head. She nods. "I would be glad to mend your wounds," The quiet witch offers. She watches Satana go. And then a pause at the mention of the wards. She doesn't comment on that, and she peers over. "I didn't expect you to step off a ledge," She admits. Then a blink and she kind of turns red. Eep.

Satana stares out of the window, her teleportation stopped with an ear popping suction that kept her right there, on the inside looking out and unable to get there. Staring out on to Blackeer street and the muscles along her jaw visibly tense and then vibrate with the moment of unsounded rage. Both hand rise, the stigmatic hole through one palm cracking as fingers splayed and she presses them against the window. With that fingers curled and nails /rake/ against the smooth surface, screaming of their own accord and marring itin her wake.
Finally that scream omits and a small blaze of Soulfire getsers up around her feet, melding with and spindelling that ruby huen hair outward before it just as quickly fades and all that is left is the residual heat, and a low growling Satana.
Lips peeled back her teet were a row of normal ivory, those eyes fading from a golden fleck back to a sea blue. A single deep breath and she straightens a bit, her hands sweeping up to pinch at the fingertips as she inhales through nostrils and exhales past lips. Whoooo -sah…
"I just… spent months someone’s /bitch/. If you think I am about to do it again, but under the pretenses of "for the good of /all/"," Satana now air quotes with bleeding hand. "Please. Keep me here. YOU will be the death of me. Fine. I got time."
Going to Hell is not a one way trip for her afterall, but she is not about to sit here, be judged by strangers, healed and held as a demonic Belle to his Supreme Beast.
Every step of bare feet tha took her to the couch was a stomp of hissy fitting emphasis, even the 'harumph'' in which she flopped into the couch and crossed one leg over the other, not bothering to cover this time as she inspected her nails in boredom.

Doctor Strange looks apologetic. But really, letting an unbound succubus go into his city without a leash was never his intention. He wants to give Satana-the-human a chance, but in doing so he becomes responsible for the actions of the demon, too.
The hissy fit is very convincing, but he hardens his heart. After all Satana managed to handle being Darque's minion for weeks without breaking and trauma. She can handle a couple days in his rather comfortable house, being bored, or reading books. He has a large library. "I really hope you can survive the ordeal, Ms. Hellstrom. Now, if Rain can heal you, we can move into the dining room for an evening repast and then I'll show you your room. Tomorrow we can make a deal and you can leave at dusk."

Rain is quiet, her eyes wide. She sees sympathetic to being enslaved and all, but then there is the whole soul sucking thing which is totally not awesome. The violet eyed witch looks to Strange, nodding. "I would be glad to heal you, if you will allow me. I wouldn't heal you without your consent," She offers. She doesn't seem bothered by the nudity. Her family was turbo pagan. Nudity was just a thing. So there it is. She's a bit startled by all the screaming and stuff but she doesn't comment. At least she has good manners.

Satana had not looked at either of them, those eyes just stared off into the distance and if they even passed the periphery they seemed to simply float the gaze -through- them. One hand rises and fingertips brush to rest just beneath her chin in a prop as she takes in repose of a lean upon the couch and swings upmost crossed leg like am (im)patient in awaiting room.
"Don't make deals with demons. It's best you wash your hands of them." Finally with a flutter of noir lashes over eyes she refocuses and looks -at- Rain and Strange. "Save your strength, Orion. I appreciate the offer but it appears as if we are doing things the old fashioned way." A rise of her hand now from her jawline and she presses and sweeps fingertips together like she is salting the ground between herself and them.
"I'll shower and lick my own wounds after /repast/." Though her eyes slide from Strange to Rain, and one corner of her lips curl upward. A succubi's charms are not limited to men alone and that one simple note that is slipping is a single strum on the harpischord of desire for them both. Like a cat at play.
Slowly she rises from the couch and tilts her head in a silent sign of following them, all the while she watches from eyes framed and offset by a Mona Lisa smile.

Strange tilts his head to Satana. “Indeed. I better do the deal with you as if you were a real person, not a demon. Now, please…” he stands, “follow me, the dining room should be just at the other side of the hallway, but sometimes it wanders as far as the to the meditation chambers. Ah, but it has moved only a few yards. Good.” There is a large diner tale set with oriental style dinnerware. And Strange tries to lead the conversation into lighter subjects. Wong has prepared a meal of noddle soup with vegetables and lamb curry. It is all quite good.

Satana follows into the dining area and claims a seat that keeps distance between them, thugh Rain's offer got a lift of brows and a glance of curiosity that only folded in upon itself into hidden resolve. Once seated and the food is before her she leabs forward, the defined ridge of cheekbone used as a prop upon the heel of her hand while a single finger slides the food around. Every once in a while a nail stabs into the curries meat, bringing it to her nose for a sniff before she tastes and settles for the new flavor with a rapid blink of eyes.
"what do they call this? It is delicate and seems to melt, the perfect match for what monsieur calls champagne… It bubbles…" A small flicker of fingers before lips before she looks at Strange. "Do you have any of that?" Welp, you found one appetite.

Rain seems open to the deal. For now, she will join them for dinner. She smiles at the curry. She will let Strange answer, since it's his dinner. "Thank you, this is good," She nods. "And things wander? That seems rough," Her eyebrows lift. "Anyway, I'll have to bring something nice to drink. Thank you."

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