Pact with the Devil

Brief Title:

Characters:
Black Crow and Satana

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
03/19/13 19:00

Location:
Foyer - Hellstrom Manor - Greentown MA

Summary:
Black Crow seeks out the Hellstroms as allies for the war against the gods.

Social or Plot:

TS:
No

Log:
It's evening, just past sunset, and Satana has settled in with a nice glass of brandy. Okay, so it's a glass of brandy with the rest of the bottle within easy reach. The doorbell rings, and her first reaction is to call for Damian. A tilt of her head and she listens, hearing nothing but the sounds of the quiet mansion about her. Muttering a string of curses, she gets up from the cozy sofa and stalks towards the door, brandy still in hand. Flinging it open wide, she only looks to see who's there *afterward*. "Yes?" she clips tersely.

Those with mystical awareness will sense a sudden increase in the mystical realm as a lone crow flies at a speeding rate towards Greentown, Massachusetts. With a specific destination in mind, the crow reaches Hellstrom Manor. The unholy home of Satan’s descendants, the crow circles overhead cawing and cooing and then seems to grow from the size of a typical avian to an almost staggering 10 feet tall. It continues to loom overhead, studying and staring at the manor and not quite landing, a booming human voice rings out from its beak, “Hellstrom, Son of Satan! I would seek an audience with thee!”

The crow’s form shifts its shape to that of Black Crow, the Native American mystic and hero. Approaching the entrance, he rings the bell. Hearing an oddly soothing voice, not one he would imagine for Damian. He speaks in a still authoritative yet less booming voice, “I am Black Crow. I seek Damien Hellstrom.” He eyes the satanic beauty before him and would smile, but it is rare that he smiles. But he is grateful his mask covers his eyes as he cannot help but notice the shapely physique of the door greeter. “I would seek an audience with your master.”

Satana cocks her hip, leaning against the door frame while she casually swirls the brandy. "You seek Damien Hellstrom, son of Satan, etcetera? Sorry, toots, but he's not here right now." At the word 'master', she just wrinkles her nose and laughs. "Well Damien is many things to many people, he sure as hell isn't my master. I'm Satana, his sister, and you're more than welcome to come in for a drink. We get dark-and-scary types here all the time." Pushing the door wide, she steps aside to let him in.

The laissez faire attitude with which he is greeted by the door greeter causes Black Crow to be taken aback. Whether it is her obvious beauty, he swishing of the brandy or her laid back manner with which he speaks. This is not what he would expect of Satan’s daughter. Taking a moment to digest the offer, he bows his head formally, “My apologies, Satana. While I am familiar with your name. It is quite something else to see you in the flesh.” A smile curls on his lips. “The world is in chaos and yet, I find myself appreciative at the offer of imbibing myself in a drink.” He enters.

Satana cants her head towards rooms further inside and shrugs. "So come on in and tell me your poison, Mister Crow. Or should I call you Black?" she replies, taking a long, slow sip of brandy. "And no apologies are necessary. I tend to slip into and out of flesh from time to time." Turning, she leads the way further inside. "Do I want to know why you're looking for my brother, or is that another one of his secrets?"

Making his way further into the foyer and into a sitting room, the mystic looks about. One who has traveled dimensions and fought against and with gods still finds the idea of being in ‘Satan’s house, slightly unnerving. “Brandy is fine, but any type of firewater will do.” He turns his body not taking a seat until the lady does. “Black Crow is fine. And my business with your brother is no secret. I seek an ally. I am surprised you are not aware of events happening in the mystical realm, not seeping into Earth, my dear.”

Satana leads the way to the sitting room she was occupying, finding another glass for him and filling it. "So who said I'm not aware?" she replies, turning to offer him the glass before she settles at one end of a sofa. She curls her legs up beneath her like a cat and then refills her own glass. "What help are you looking for from Damien, and what's your plan?"

Taking a seat on a lone chair across from Satana, Black Crow simply nods at her first question. “Clearly there is much more to you, than meets the eye, Satana.” He accepts the drink and looks over the alcohol. He swirls it around in the snifter and sniffs it. Pleased with the odor, he takes a small sip, almost to test the taste. Fully pleased, he takes another sip and places the snifter of brandy on a small table to rest, “The mortal heroes, combinations of The Avengers, X-Men, and other warriors have faced the gods and thus far defeated them on the Earthly plane. But ultimately, it will take those of us who are. . .better suited to face the Anasazi in their home dimense, Shipolo. I feel a mystical route may be one avenue to take. I already have some allies among which are the sorceresses, Scarlet Witch, Spiral, and Topaz. Dr. Strange may be available once he is done with whatever sort of tasks busy the Sorcerer Supreme. I had hoped. Someone who is an equal to those I have already sought, but with a slight taint of dark would also be a powerful ally.”

Satana nods slowly, sipping while she listens. "I know Topaz and Strange, and I know my way around a few dimensions as well." she replies. "Damien's strength and my own complement each other, to a degree. He grew up in the mortal world while I..." she pauses for another sip, then adds simply. "... did not. It sounds like you're looking for an interdimensional taxi-driver, though."

“My dear, I am able to transport myself and allies to Shipolo and back. Taxi-drivers are not needed. Powerful allies to combat the likes of Nanabozho and Hotamintanio. A small group of heroes escorted me to Shipolo to face the Anasazi and they barely survived. Ones such as us are needed to better handle them.” Black Crow narrows his eyes at Satana as he reaches for his drink, “Tell me, would you be willing to partake in battle to save this world?”

Battle against gods! Save the world! Fight the good fight! Satana's demeanor remains languid, and she dips a finger into her brandy to run it lightly around the rim of the glass. "Why?" she replies simply. "I mean why do the Anasazi want to destroy this world in the first place? Did they send heralds on ahead to declare their intentions or something?"

“Not quite.” Black Crow responds as he sips his brandy and puts the small snifter on the table. “There had been a series of smaller scale attacks in New York earlier this year. And periodically in the past, there have been even smaller battles. The Anasazi are not pleased with how history has pretty much eradicated our people and the abuses put upon them by the white man. The spirits of the dead cry out for vengeance. Nanabozho has manipulated this into declaring a full scale war.”

Satana looks thoughtful, and she stretches her legs out along the sofa. "So Nanabozho is war-mongering, then." she offers, sipping deeply. "Not that it really matters much, now that the war has started. But yeah, I'm in alright. Omni-powerful beings throwing their weight around always sets me off."


“Well then, I welcome your assistance. And should if you would please contact your and let him know of my visit. I would be most appreciative.” Black Crow rises and starts to make his way out of the sitting room, but pauses and turns. He bows, “Your reputation for your beauty, does not do you justice, Satana. You are far beyond beautiful.”

Satana sets her drink down and has the good manners to rise as well, smiling in an almost-not-wry sort of way when he compliments her. "Well thanks, Mister Crow." she replies glibly. "And I must say, you're pretty easy on the eyes yourself. I think you should buy me dinner sometime." She'll walk with him to the front door.

“Perhaps, when the world is saved.” Black Crow bows again and makes his way out of the Manor. Transforming into a crow, he flies off.

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