15656/People are going to start talking.

People are going to start talking.
Date of Scene:	30 September 2023
Location:	Random night club.
Synopsis:	A random meeting with Satana turns into a deal with the devil...in a manner of speaking.
Cast of Characters:	Harry Dresden, Satana

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Harry Dresden has posed:
Harry sticks out most place, but he /really/ sticks out here. The tall wizard couldn't fit in here if his life depended on it. A lot of people are staring at the duster dressed wizard, his pentacle hanging over his shirt. Again, not hiding.

Whatever he is doing, he is trying to stay as far from the sound system as he can. Things are already flickering despite him trying to keep the power under wraps. That never works, but he is trying.

He shows a photo to the bartender who shakes his head, sneers, and brushes him off. The same happens with a bouncer and a waitress. Annoyed wizard. That's a good idea.

He looks at the sound system and it squalls with feedback, just looking at it. The look on his face says he's about to lose patience with stuffy staff members.

Satana has posed:
Satana also sticks out, but in the good way (from her perspective). She's dressed to kill and, given her recent feeding (which Harry almost, but not quite, witnessed) this is metaphorical in nature rather than literal. What she's wearing is technically a little black dress, but it's mostly called that for sake of categorization; it's more a single band of velvet wrapped around her form in daring ways that always seem just this side of a wardrobe malfunction.

Living it up in the midst of a bunch of ... thralls? just oversexed partiers? ... she stops dancing (if you want to call her gyrations that) when Harry enters, his power sensed. She watches as he disrupts electronics and questions staff, before waving away her worshippers and sauntering over to him.

"Detective! How are you?" She approaches, slithering more than walking, with a broad smile on her face and eyes boring into Harry's head. "Is there a problem with the staff?"

That gaze falls on the person Harry is speaking to who immediately ... goes ... slack-jawed, eyes glazing over.

Harry Dresden has posed:
If he notices her, he doesn't indicate in initially. He locks eyes with the bartender again, just a second or two and then looks back towards the DJ area. His face indicates something bad is about to happen.

The sound of her voice causes Harry to stop and turn his head towards the beautiful woman. His eyes meet her briefly as well, but not remaining for more than a second or two. The last thing he needs is to try to soul gaze the daughter of the devil, assuming there is a soul and not something else. Either option most likely scars his mind for life.

"Satana." he offers politely. He is polite and gentleman like most of the time,"I am well. I am trying to find a lead on this one." He shows her a picture of a little girl, blonde and blue eyes,"Her mother swears she has fae blood. I just want to find her and this place is known for being a local hangout for parasites that huft children."

Satana has posed:
"Is it now...?"

Satana's eyes turn back to the bartender, hardening.

"Tell me, Harry," she says conversationally while she pins the bartender's soul to kill jar floor, metaphorically speaking. A nearby patron starts asking the bartender for something only to face Satana raising a hand, without breaking gaze, and making a little gesture, turning her index finger in a little spiral. The woman stops talking mid-word and lays her head down on her hands, resting on the bar and starting to sleep. "If I find this girl for you ... what's it worth?"

She smiles and somehow communicates this is targetted at Harry without once breaking off her gaze with the bartender.

"I have a ... gift, let's call it ... for tracking down souls."

Harry Dresden has posed:
Watching things play out, Harry frowns a little. Curious about what she is up to. She has to be up to something. Partial demon or not. He crosses his arms and considers her for a long moment,"Is this the part where you offer to find her in exchange for my soul? It's pretty broken and already has one demon taking up residence."

Of course he'd like to know where the girl is and he looks at the sound system,"The bartender know what I want to know. Being part owner of the club he just needs a little...persuasion."

Shaking his head he tells her,"You're beautiful, similar in many ways to my brother, and decidedly bad news. So am I wrong? Soul for a soul sort of thing?"

Satana has posed:
"Oh, Harry, your soul is spoken for. And while I could probably wrest control of it away from its owner, I'd rather not waste the energy."

Satana turns her gaze from the bartender to look up at Harry. The bartender remains slack-jawed and unresponsive to the world around him. Another patron trying to address him goes to sleep while Satana talks, probably a form of demonic flex.

"No, for something as trivial as finding that girl and taking you to her, I'll just ... let's call it a marker. I'll take a marker from you. Should I need your assistance in something, you'll do your best to assist me. That's all. A straight quid..." She takes a step to Harry. "...pro..." She sidles up against Harry. "...quo." Her arms snake around Harry's waist and pull her snugly against him.

She pauses a moment to let that sensation settle into Harry's reptile brain before murmuring, "I know where she is. I can teleport us there, inside the perimeter of guards. You can do what you like to them, and get the girl. But the teleportation needs a passionate kiss. Desire fuels it when I carry another with."

Impish mischief fills her eyes as she turns her head up just so for Harry.

"It has to be genuine desire, Harry. Don't hold back."

Harry Dresden has posed:
"Ask Thomas, I don't have one anyway." he replies to her and narrows his gaze a little. This is one of those times in life when you have to make a decision. Of course, the last time he made a decision like that he picked up one demon in his mind.

He looks at the bartender, pretty much useless to him now as long as she has him locked in her thrall. The kid has been missing for a while and the longer she is gone, the less likely she is to be found alive. He considers the woman for a time longer,"Define the depth of the assisance. I act as the executioner for nobody and..." he pauses and his head moves to one side as she moves in closer.

Oh his body is rebelling against him and she can tell. Every part of his is rebelling against good sense,"...I'm not particularly fond of the idea of being a meal for you either. You'll have to forgive me, but I have a legitimate fairy godmother. I don't which of you is less likely to be trusted." That speaks volumes of the fairy godmother.

There is the idea of kissing her, that isn't unappealing at all. The little girl is needing help and here is the opportunity to make a difference,"Lara Raith is real good at playing this game too, though I am going to admit not quite as well as you." Yes, he's stalling. Either that or he's already got a plan,"Desire is...not something that I can just do. You know that as well as I do."

Satana has posed:
"In scale with the assistance I'm rendering you. I can act as my own executioner, thank you very much. Information. Perhaps a judicious scrying where my own scrying might get noted. That sort of thing." Satana's lips press briefly against Harry's neck. "I'm not feeding tonight, and there's no point in feeding on you anyway; your soul being spoken for and all."

A bent knee sliding up the outside of Harry's leg assists in the desire aspect, pairing with the lips at his throat.

"Leave firing up your desire to me. You just have to be willing to have it. I can do the rest."

And she's got a point. She's very good at the firing up side.

"Some would cheat and shift into a form that matches your true desire, but me? I like my form to be the object of it."

Harry Dresden has posed:
Life is funny. Not that he can think of anything funny right now. He gives her a side eye look, though the kiss to his neck is able to stir him up a little more.

He considers the deadly being at his side and looks at the picture again. The little one isn't getting found this way.

The feeling of her knee up his leg puses a little more. He's been dealing with a lot of bad ideas of late, some by his own hand and other turned against him.

He finally looks at her, again not straight in the eyes, but very close,"Make no mistake, I appreciate the true form. I'm not even sure what my true desire is anymore." Maybe he is lying to himself, maybe he is just too clueless to admit the obvious,"You are making a good case for yourself."

Satana has posed:
"Just bend down and seal the deal, Harry," Satana murmurs, leaning her head back and parting her lips ever so slightly. "One passionate kiss and your little girl is next to you, letting you do whatever you will to those guarding her. Then we take her away and she's back in the arms of her mother."

Is it hot in here or is it just her? Oh, come on. It's her. Both figuratively---and she's very good at displaying that to her advantage---and literally. Her body is slightly warm, like someone who has a mild fever.

"You want to save her, right?"

Harry Dresden has posed:
Even the demon in his head is telling him it's a bad idea. Lash forbids it in his head. That's probably a mistake. There is no way she wants him to do this and so she raises hell.

Inside his mind he has a conversation with he demon. Of course she offers him all sorts of things. Had she not recently, completely screwed with his mind he might have listened. Unfortunately, for her and him, she did mess with his head.

Shaking his head, bringing himself back to the present. Old man fall, young girl lives. It's a trade and sheer pig headed stubborness work against the other demon. He's kissed Lara and survived.

He finally leans down and kisses her. It is not terribly charged initially, but listening to Laciel shreik in his head makes him all the more passionate. Did he make a mistake? For certain. Is this petty revenge? Without a doubt. Stupid? Very. He's too committed at this point.

Satana has posed:
Satana grins inwardly, but outwardly she plies her trade. She becomes Harry's world under his hands, against his body, lips to lips. The world fades away under her tender ministry, like a romcom going soft-focus.

Then it reforms. In sharp focus. In a cellar cell, inside the steel bars, next to a sobbing young girl. Satana breaks contact and in an impressed voice says, "That was ... fun."

She pulls herself out of Harry's arm and sits next to the sobbing girl. "I believe you have an escape to effect?" she says before turning her attention to the girl.

"Hello, little one. That man is here to save you and return you to your mother. Isn't that grand?!"

Harry Dresden has posed:
It takes a moment to get himself caught up with what happened. He's got that now. The room is locked, never good. He pulls his blasting rod from his duster and points at the locking mechanism,"Fuego." A fount of fire erupts, but doesn't quite do the job. Harry grits his teeth and as two guards run at the door, he taps into Hellfire and melts the door, the guard weapons, and the front half of the guards.

The badly burned men fall to the floor and Harry kicks the door open. He picks up the little girl that is scared for sure,"Millie sends her greetings." She is scared, but the name gets a nod and Harry looks to Satana,"Thank you." With that he heads out of the destroyed door and starts looking for the way out.

If Satana sticks around, she will multiple time hear him activate the fire,"Fuego!" Espapes his throat regular. Since she isn't offering aide, he assumes she will see herself out.

Satana has posed:
"Remember the marker, Harry!" Satana says, poking her head out of the cell as Harry flames out a few more. A pair of disheveled mooks (well, a mook and a mookette by appearances) steps out of a cell behind Harry, ready to shoot. Pursing her lips in annoyance Satana does her own variant of Hellfire, in this case Soulfire. Flames escape her hands, immolating the pair, causing them to scream in agony as their very SOULS burn.

Bodies, untouched by heat, fall to the floor, devoid of souls, dead and yet untouched.

"Call those freebies!" she calls out, laughing, before turning around and reentering the cell. Smoke. Sulfurous essence. And she's gone, leaving Harry to fend for himself on the way out.