7099/The Devil's Son, You Say

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The Devil's Son, You Say
Date of Scene: 30 March 2019
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Sabrina meets the Son of Satan.
Cast of Characters: Hellstorm, Sabrina The Teenage Witch




Hellstorm has posed:
If one has the nose for it (witches), one would find it extremely difficult to be blind to the infernal energies and trappings of the Son of Satan. His aura is as black as midnight on a moonless night and haloed by the glow of Hellfire and Darkfire that resonates from his DarkSoul. Though he doesn't allow his true face to be seen as his Father often does, the Son of Satan is quite radiant in his infernal right, and light. Today, he wears a fine suit of black over black leather boots and a dark red, collared shirt sans the tie with the collar itself open. His left lapel bears a pin of gold in the shape of an inverted pentragram. No head of Baphomet within it, just clear on the black background of the cloth. Cufflinks bear the same symbol which are made clear as he enters the establishment adjusting his cuffs and peering around the diner with his sharp green eyes. Looking for something, someone, perhaps someone weak or trusting wanting to make a deal. Or perhaps someone far more in the know.

Sabrina The Teenage Witch has posed:
Pop's at this time isn't the most happening since most kids are at the theater on the early Saturday afternoon. That leaves Sabrina to her devices in one of the booths with earbuds in, cellphone sitting off near the napkin holder, and notes spread out across the surface of the table where she's sitting. A cup of coffee and a half eaten donut sits amidst the open books from which she's studying while a black cat has taken up residence upon her feet beneath the table. Salem was pretending to be asleep when Daimon enters the establishment and awakens instantly upon feeling that intense bleed of infernal energy only slightly before Sabrina herself does. Both look up at the door with the latter removing her earbud so that the song playing is just barely audible; When the man comes around - Cash

Hellstorm has posed:
His eyes find her gaze and the flat emotionless expression of his lips shift to that of nefarious pleasure. Their corners turn upward and the borders of his eyes tense. The truesight is revealed through his vision and he identifies the one whom his father craves so dearly. His body turns and hard strikes of his dress shoes carry him across the grey and black checkered floor toward the booth where Sabrina resides.

    Upon closing, his left hand will rest on the back of the seat across from her. No rings adorn his fingers. Though there is a nice watch of gold beneath the cuff of his sleeve. He says, "Good afternoon, young Miss Sabrina. As you likely know, for I would hardly underestimate your prowess, I am Daimon Hellstrom. You and my father are quite acquainted in a amusingly rebuffed sort of way. Might I join you?"

Sabrina The Teenage Witch has posed:
If she ever said the appearance of the Son of the Dark Lord didn't cause her a little mortal terror, she'd be lying, but it is a fear that Sabrina has learned to deal with. It is a defining characteristic of her presence at the Academy of Unseen Arts and a leading cause of her lack of general popularity there. "Daimon Hellstrom." Repeating the name as if to burn it to memory incase it ever need be used later, somehow. "If you're here to convince me to cease my rebuffs, you'll be disappointed, but..."

She extends her hand to the seat upon which he's leaning with an older looking fountain pen held between her fingers. "I'm not sure how you feel about milkshakes, but Pop's machine is one of the best in the district." Salem has lept up in the bench beside Sabrina, peeking out periodically at the smart dressed son of the devil.

Hellstorm has posed:
The nefarious smile and expression upon the infernal's face softens in a pleasant smile - indicating that he's pleased by something she relayed to him. Perhaps it was acceptance of his request to join her, maybe the hint of something that gave him pleasure as a child, or maybe her strength. Either way, as Hellstrom sits, he unbuttons his jacket so that it exposes more of his dark red shirt beneath and a simple golden hasp and tang of his belt buckle.

    His baretone voice begins, "On the contrary, Sabrina - might I call you Sabrina?" There's little pause for her response, he presses the point forward, "On the contrary, I am quite impressed and even a touch elated. Your strength of conviction and character caused a cacophony of discorse through the halls of Hell itself. The demons, devils, and all that is infernal cast rumors of your denial. My father was livid. If that's even strong enough a word. And with all that, I had to meet the girl, the half witch, that was able to stand up to the mechanizations and desires of my father, himself. Color me impressed, young lady."

Sabrina The Teenage Witch has posed:
Sabrina watches Daimon as if he might sprout wings and force her into some protracted battle of good verse evil right here in the dinner until he offers up praise rather than scorn. Her expression shifts a little, brow raising, eyes going a little wide, "oh.. I didn't realize my decision had such long reaching implications in the dominion of the devil." Said with a notable lower tempo so as not to attract the attention of those few individuals who have come to enjoy an early afternoon at the dinner.

"I'm really nothing special, though." Shuffling some of her papers, Salem disappears beneath the table where he craddles up against her legs. One paw lays up on that leg to encourage a hand to drop beneath and lay upon his head for feline comforts. "Sorry about Salem, he's not usually this shy. Then again, it's not everyday he meets the son of the Dark Lord." Eyes flicking across the smart dressed infernal, "So you're not on terms with your father or just delight in his failures like any child might?"

Hellstorm has posed:
"Both perhaps." answers Hellstrom to the query and then he further explains. "My father does not have terms; he has demands. He sees everyone, witches and humans alike, as pawns and playthings in a greater struggle for power and influence. All of his kind, the HellLords and the Divine, seek to obtain the energy that is the immortal soul. In their realms, the soul is used as not only currency, but it empowers them. Like battery powers a torch (flashlight). As for you, young Sabrina, I have yet to discern why my father is so obsessed with obtaining your soul. Albeit; as I sit across from you and take note of the energy within that lithe frame, I can take a few guesses as to why he would want you to sign his book. They would only be guesses; for to know my father's mind is to know chaos and discord."

Sabrina The Teenage Witch has posed:
This is all new to Sabrina. For all the entirety of the school, and even her aunts, try to get her to sign the Dark Lord's book, none have been able to tell her why it is so very important that she do so except; we all did. "That doesn't sound like something anyone should want." Even though there's a part of her that admittedly does, sometimes, want to sign. Genuinely a girl of two worlds, thankfully humans are stubborn enough to stand against such urges for now. "I can't say as I know either. Plenty of willing, I don't see why one blank line is causing such a stir..." Her hands spread and then settle about the cooling cup of coffee for a drink. "SO what's your play, Uhh... Mr. Hellstrom?" Realizing then that she's not answered his earlier question, "oh and Sabrina is fine."

Hellstorm has posed:
"And 'Daimon' is quite appreciated." responds Hellstrom in the whole exchange of first names with a quirk of a smile that shows he is pleased to be on an allowed first name basis with the half witch that denied his father her immortal soul.

Then there is a clearing of his throat as he says, "My play? That would be telling. But I assure you, Sabrina, my play is more inclined toward your freedom than your enslavement to my father's will. Which brings me to.." His right hand rises to his inside jacket pocket where he will withdraw a business card. He slides it faced up, across the table for her withdrawl once his fingertips have been withdrawn. It reads, 'Daimon Hellstrom - Paranormal Investigations / Exorcisms / Supernatural Studies - (666)-666-0666' Then he smiles. I know, such a cheeky bit of numerology there. It's too bad the muggles don't realize that 666 was referencing the emperor Nero and not my father. Fearmongering. Such a wonderful tactic to ensure the masses stay in line. But, aside from all of that. I give you that card in hopes that you will call me if you ever are in need. I would be remiss if I was unable to assist someone of such interest and strength. Or, you could call me for tea or even advice. I also guest lecture. I believe your Academy would be a nice place to speak - that is if they still don't hold a grudge."

Sabrina The Teenage Witch has posed:
"Daimon." Sabrina repeats while sliding the card the rest of the way to her side of the table where it can be placed in the spine of one of her books. It's the most likely place she would look for it, afterall, "Nero? Really... I mean I knew the symbology of six six six wasn't directly linked to the Dark Lord in any other way than mythos. Then again, there are multiple texts that indicate any accepted dogma of man becomes established dogma of heaven and hell." Her lips quirk off to the side, "I'll definitely call. I'm sure there's a lot you can teach me that is, thusfar, been out of my reach."

Hellstorm has posed:
His pleased eyes turn even more elated when she speaks of dogma and transferrence into Hell and Heaven. Though it's best not to discuss those things here and now. Hellstrom states, "I would be delighted. Now, if you would excuse me. I've an exorcism to attend." He slides out of the booth. His green eyes peer down at Salem. There's a pause as he buttons his jacket, "By the way, your imp; good choice. He has guile and is quite loyal to you, unyielding even. He ... well, /you both/ will serve one another quite admirably."

Sabrina The Teenage Witch has posed:
Sabrina fixes Daimon with a raised brow when he explains his need to depart, "Interesting." She murmurs, then looks to Salem beside her where her hand remains, "He's a bit of a prick, sometimes, but I think that's the cat in him?" Her hand strokes along the familiars head and neck. "It was good meeting you Daimon Hellstrom. I hope they will let you lecture at the school, I think that would be good for all to hear a conflicted opinion on the Dark Lord."

Hellstorm has posed:
"The headmaster would lose his mind. It would be delightful..." and turning on his heel, Hellstrom begins his departure toward the exit of the diner. "Until we meet again..." are his final words in parting and then out the door into the parking area.

    If Sabrina were to watch his egress through the parking lot, she might take note of something that the normal humans cannot see. Hellstrom approaches a chariot drawn by three demon horses. He climbs within the chariot itself, takes hold of a flaming golden trident in his right hand, the reigns in the left, the demon steeds snarl and then leap into the air pulling him away into the night. < http://tinyurl.com/jey6re4 >