15902/Professional Courtesy

Professional Courtesy
Date of Scene:	20 December 2023
Location:	Central Park, Manhattan
Synopsis:	Satana and Dracula come close to conflict but for Satana's politesse and charm.
Cast of Characters:	Satana, Dracula

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Satana has posed:
"Show me the way to go home..." The feminine voice slurs the old song, interrupted by a loud hiccough. "...I'm tired and I wanna go to bed..." The voice's owner comes into view around a path bend in the park, near where trees get close. Where prey awaits her. It doesn't know that it's the prey, naturally. It thinks it's the predator. But such is life. "...I had a little drink about an hour ago and it's gone right to my head."

Satana lurches down the path, dressed in clothing that would give a streetwalker pause. Dressed, notably, in VERY RICH clothing that would give a streetwalker pause. She's practically dripping money, along with the slurred musical syllables.

And off in the nearby greenery, her prey awaits. She feels them. A small crowd of youngsters, egging each other on to crime. Youngsters she has plans for. Plans that involve one horrific death, and cowed mortals to act as minions in the future.

"...No matter where I roam, on land or sea or foam, you will always hear me singing this song..."

The trap is ready to be sprung. The actors are on the stage and the cue has been given.

Dracula has posed:
The shadows wrap around him, as he watches the group. The depths he has sunken to for the sake of feeding. Dracula watches the same group, though he has intent for a brunette within the group as well.

He concentrates his mind on the young straggler and focuses her attention away from the group. He moves into just enough light to get her attention and raise her curiosity. She doesn't say anything, merely slows more, and then starts his direction away from the group quietly.

Unconcerned with the rest of them, Dracula plays with her mind and heart strings like the master that he is. Once she is on her way to him, he steps back into the shadows once more to conceal them both in the shadows.

Satana has posed:
Wait. There was supposed to be five. Now there are four. What's goin...

Satana's act falters a bit as she growls softly. Someone is playing with her meal and bonus toys. She had plans for them all! Who would be stupid enough to interfere with the Devil's Daughter!?

"Come on out boys. Come and take me." Satana straightens up, dropping her act, her voice ringing clear like a bell in the night. "Let's get this over with so I can ..."

She doesn't finish the sentence.

The sudden change in their perceived prey causes consternation among the four remaining young men. "What's the matter? Are you afraid of a 'skirt'?" Satana's voice adds mockingly. Talking of which, her skirt conceals nothing, including the fact, at certain angles, that it's very clear she's Sharon Stoning (the infamous Basic Instinct scene). She focuses on the one young man ... boy, really, though already thoroughly infused in a collection of sins, making him a perfect target for the hungry succubus. So tasty.

Her focus says, blurting out in surprise even to himself, "Hey, c'mon! We gonna get this bitch or what!?"

And thus the momentary nervousness is brought down by machismo. The four wannabe wolves spread out around the no-longer-drunk but still dressed like a streetwalker's nightmare woman.

"That's it, boys. Come and get me."

Satana allows herself a wicked smile as her fingers work in odd shapes, sending queries into the aetheric void to find her missing target, and more importantly the one who took her.

"Gotcha..." she murmurs as she finds the girl, and then where the girl is going. More finger motions, and a few eldritch syllables and there's a barrier, psychological only, but as real as a brick wall, that stops the girl in her tracks, preventing her from getting closer.

"Ding dong..." Satana mutters in a sing-song voice. "...Hell Lord calling."

"Hey, bitch! You gonna stand there movin' your fingers like some kinda spaz or you gonna give us your money, your lovin', or both!?"

The microgang leader has lost his patience.

Dracula has posed:
Inches from getting what he set out for, Dracula scowls when the girl stops walking to him. He narrows his gaze and then steps forward once more. It is still mostly dark and so he isn't easily seen even now.

He steps behind the woman, long black cape enveloping them both and making the pair far more obscure than they would be.

It isn't the privacy he wants, but he needs to feed or he's going to get very unselective about who he feeds on and how much he feeds.

He isn't overly bothered with the lives of mortals anymore, but bodies are an issue and takes time, energy, or power than he wants to use at the moment.

Satana has posed:
"OK, let's fast-forward this!" Satana snarls, seeing the dark swirl take her plaything into it anyway.

She steps up to the one she'd dominated, brushing aside his instinct to step away, hugging him with irresistable strength, and kissing him. The other three stare in surprise as she does so, watching wide-eyed as he first shows every sign of intense sexual delight before starting to struggle, fruitlessly, to break free. In seconds his body crumples, desiccated, and when Satana pulls back her head, a stream of purple light pours out of the now-open mouth of the now-corpse and spills into hers.

And with that comes change. The Devil's Daughter's eyes glow with the fires of Hell. She turns to face the remaining three and declares in a double-voice, one voice almost (but not quite, for maximum dissonance) a full octave below her normal speaking voice. "BOW BEFORE YOUR MISTRESS, OR DIE LIKE YOUR FRIEND!"

Then as a show of force the same fires of Hell in her eyes lance out from her hand ...

... to lance through the girl. The girl's body is untouched, but her soul is filled with the fires of Hell, breaking all considerations, all dominance, from the sheer agony of near soul-death. The girl screams and falls to the ground.

"Leave my toys alone," she adds to the darkness that surrounds where the girl once was. "I have plans for them."

She faces Dracula, now, horns out and growing, wings unfolding behind her.

But still dressed like a streetwalker's nightmare. Details.

Dracula has posed:
It was a simple enough plan. Take a drink, let the young woman live, and get on with his night. Of course nothing is ever as easy as it should be and the hooker, a distinction of indignation for him, taking the simple meal from him.

His attention is taken from his desired meal and is instead focused on the one who insists to interfere with him.

Fury, indignation, and pompous, arrogant hubris as he turns on the one bothering him. Fire is a bad thing, he really doesn't like it, but he doesn't back down as his eyes glow red in the darkness and he stalks out of the woods towards her,"Hellspawn." he growls softly,"Lucifer's spawn by the smell of you."

The voice is about as settling as hers, which is to say not at all. The average mortal would probably lose their bladder as he neared,"So you have his manners as well. How delightful."

Satana has posed:
Satana looks irritated as her toys start making moves to flee. A hand gesture puts an end to that; the three of them collapsing to the ground (one painfully smashing his face against a bench in the process) instead of running.

"I'm honoured you'd think I'm the Morningstar's child, but sadly I'm merely the daughter of Satan," Satana says with a smile that utterly fails to reach her eyes. "You, naturally, need no introduction. Vlad Tepes. The little dragon. King of Vampires." The smile widens (but still fails to reach the eyes). "Am I close?"

She doesn't bother letting him answer. She doesn't need confirmation.

"I am Satana Hellstrom, daughter of Marduk Kurios, who styles himself Satan." There's heavy irony in her voice for the final four words. "The Devil's Daughter," she clarifies. "Now leave my toys alone. I have need of them. That one..." She gestures at the woman. "...is going to be trained to pleasure me on command."

Dracula has posed:
A low sound, like a grunt as his thoughts are more or less confirmed to his mind anyway. He has lost interest in the pursuit now, meal not as interesting perhaps.

"You're all children of him. Some more direct than others." he replies to her. The fact that he is recognized gets a raised brow and a fractional nod,"You care correct Satana Hellstrom." he tells her,"I am impressed. You can parse the difference between me and another would be noble."

"Ahh so another sees himself as the ultimate adversary to the creator and his bastard children. That is just what the world needs. A potential usurper." He crosses his arms and flatly replies,"How adorable. Creating toys for yourself." Like he has room to talk. The whole situation has him solidly disgusted with the thought of it all. Clearly missing the fact he does it himself on the regular.

He narrows his gaze and tells her darkly,"We are both capable of excessively evil acts Lady Hellstrom. Do not presume to dictate to me terms. It doesn't have to be a direct conflict that levels the field. Keep that in mind."

Satana has posed:
"I am a gifted scholar, my dear Count Vlad," Satana says with a haughty voice. "I make a point of knowing all the Powers." The capital is audible; and obviously intended to flatter, given the body language. The face softens somewhat, the back relaxing. "And you are, naturally, correct. We have enough troubles, your kind and mine, that squabbling between us is pointless."

She gestures magnanimously at the collapsed girl. "Take her. As my gift to you. Call it ... an expression of admiration."

Dracula has posed:
Listening to the woman, Dracula lets his scowl ease a little. Hungry is a bad look on him. However, when Satana decides to not continue to stir things between them he nods.

Looking back to the young woman he replies,"Your gift is gracious Lady Hellstorm. For this act, I will grant you a means to take shelter within my home once if you have need, provided you don't bring problems to my door."

With that, he nods to her once more and turns back to the prey. No longer interested in if anyone is looking, he shrouds them within the shadows and a soft gasp from her is Satana's only clue that he has bitten into the young woman.

He takes a deep drink, but not so much that she won't survive. In fact once he is done, he leaves her sitting under a tree. She could still be trained and if Satana wants that, it's one less problem for him.

His form shimmers and shrinks. A few moments later he is flapping into the night, just another bat in the park.

Satana has posed:
Satana glances over at the girl, musing. "Perhaps I can still use you," she says out loud, reverting back to her normal form and outfit: the scandalous catsuit in purple with white fur. Because the '70s had the best fashions.

She wakes up her new playthings, picking up the leader in specific, holding him off his feet as she stares into his face.

"You now serve me, or I send you to Hell like I sent your friend." One hand releases him, to gesture to the dried up husk of a human being. "At any point if you fail me, I feed on one of your number until you are all that's left. Then I feed on you."

She pauses to make sure the words register before smiling.

"It's not all bad, though. There are rewards for serving me as well. This body, for one, will be made available for your pleasure if you please me."

She drops the young man.

"Now gather up your compatriots, including the dead one, and dispose of that latter one in the river. I have marked your souls; I can find you no matter where you think to hide. And when I do, I will make good my threat. We will talk later when I have need of you."

And with that she walks off, a portal (from which emanate the tormented screams of the hopeless souls in Hell) opening before her and swallowing her up before it disappears in a puff of sulfurous smoke.