726/What About Demons

What About Demons
Date of Scene:	31 May 2017
Location:	Triskelion, New York City
Synopsis:	Natasha speaks with Ysabelle about the recent demonic attack on the city.
Cast of Characters:	Black Widow (Romanoff), Athenaeum

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Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Today, there have been three level four crises, seven people of interest taken into custody on a wide range of cases and two world threatening emergencies.

In other words, it's Thursday.

Natasha had put in a call to one of their newest mystical consultants but the meeting had been delayed briefly for reasons on both sides. Today is the appointed day. Because hey, Thursdays are great for discussions about demonic invasions too.

The office that is assigned to Natasha is sparse. A large desk, made of actual wood instead of all those glass top contraptions, a chair behind that is quite comfortable and two cushioned seats in front to allow for visitation. The desk is modified, a small computer screen popping up out of the center to allow her to work. There are no pictures of friends of family. No pretty paintings on the wall. It's utilitarian. Although there is one single item of a personal nature. A small snowglobe with a ballerina inside. It sits on the desk here it can be seen by the diminutive woman sitting behind it, instead of hidden on a shelf or back counter.

Natasha is seated at the desk, the computer screen pulled up, reviewing information from another case while awaiting the arrival of her guest. For today, there is a tea set on the desk as well, with the same blend of tea the two women shared at their last meeting with all the amenities including fresh lemon.

Athenaeum has posed:
Ysabelle had considered arriving the same way that she'd sent Natasha there before, however on second thought she'd decided that being turned into a cheese grater by several over-zealous agents might put a damper on her day and so, had turned up at the front desk instead having popped into existence down a nearby alley.

Today she's wearing a deep purple gown of heavy silk, ivory buttons done up to her throat and another two at the wrist. The gold embroidered hem of her skirts brush the floor as she moves through the turnstyle door and into the main foyer.

The woman's bright white skin and turquoise eyes had indeed caused a stir, the magician taking it all in stride with a small smile and a soft comment. Once the computer had been checked and her identity confirmed she'd been given a badge, which she hung around her neck on the lanyard provided before being escourted into the spiders parlour.

As the door is opened for her, the young looking magus smiles brightly with burgandy painted lips; "Natasha, it's wonderful to see you again. I trust you are well?" Reflective eyes take in the tea and acoutrements, along with the snowglobe and apparently everything else. "Is that darjeeling I smell?"

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Natasha smiles and stands immediately, moving around the desk to greet Ysabelle. "That is indeed. Freshly brewed. Glad you weren't late or I'd have to make fresh. It was a challenge for me to get it right the first time," she says with a soft laugh, offering her hand then motioning to the seat. "Please sit. I do appreciate you coming to speak with me. Shortly after we met, I ran into something that practically screamed your name."

Today she is dressed much as they were their first meeting. A pair of black pants, a white button up blouse with long sleeves. Her jacket is slung over the back of her chair. Standing by the desk, she picks up the pot the hesitates. She remembers the woman likes lemon but not everyone wants their tea the same way each time. "How would you like it?" she asks, lifting the pot slightly to indicate what she's referring to.

Athenaeum has posed:
"Dash of lemon and one sugar please Natasha." Ysabelle responds having accepted both the hand and the chair. The pale woman smoothes her skirts as she sits, settling them as is proper before looking up to watch Natasha 'be mother'. Her smile remains, if a little more sedately.

"I haven't heard anyone scream my name in... Oooh a while I think." She comments with that same soft smile. Double entendre? Just as it sounds? Nothing from the outward calm gives away which, though one trained as Natasha might actually pick up that little twinkle in those shining eyes.

"I'm glad I got to meet with you, I wanted to appologise for the storm last night. It was neccessary though, I assure you." Last night was indeed a terrible storm, lashing rain that seemed to find it's way into every nook and cranny, regardless of which way the wind was blowing. Oddly though, no damages to people or property - though some people still drive recklessly, something that the magus couldn't have helped.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Putting in the lemon and sugar, Natasha blinks in surprise at the double entendre. She glances over at the woman, not having expected it. Seeing the amusement in those eyes, the redhead chuckles softly. Quickly, she pours the tea then walks over to offer the cup to the magus. Once it is accepted, she makes her own, with cream and sugar. She leaves it on the tray for the moment, walking back around to touch a button on the computer. A small display rises out of the desk, facing toward Ysabelle. Then Natasha returns to the front, sitting in the guest chair beside the magus. It's more personal.

The storm had been one for the books although the lack of damage was unusual for one of that intensity. The meteorologists were also stumped. "I am almost afraid to ask why you would need to summon a storm," she admits, the friendly smile still on her face.

Athenaeum has posed:
"Do you have the building warded or the like against magic?" She'd felt something her voice says, but hadn't wanted to intrude to find it. "I should have brought the book with me really, but you know how it is. You spend all morning working out what to wear and then there's no time for anything else..." There is it again, that bright twinkle in her eyes - that was definitely a joke that time. Her warm smile still wide and genuine.

"I found a tear to an Infernal realm, or rather, where one had been. Imps had gotten out, not so bad on their own, but four together was dangerous enough that I had to take action. A Seeking Storm seemed the best answer, being their dislike of water."

She turns in her chair, making sure to face the other woman, even if it means sitting sideways on the actual seat. "As I said before, if I find something that shouldn't be, I attempt to set it right."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"I am sure there is some sort of warding on the building," Natasha says with a shrug. "I couldn't tell you what. That's WAND's area, the magical side of things versus our more mundane side. They would probably love a chance to speak with you, if you ever get the time." She probably should've offered earlier. Ysabelle might find it interesting, dealing who share the same skills or interests. Or she might find it boring as heck. Who knows.

The seats are at a three quarters position already so turning to face each other is pretty easy. Natasha does the same, pulling over the saucer with her cup of tea to the corner of the desk in the process. "I am hoping that you may know something about another type of demon we ran into. Well, I'm guessing it's another type of demon. Not sure I'd call them imps but I don't know what an imp looks like outside of stories."

She pushes a button, bringing up an image on the screen. It's a bridge. Or was. There are two obvious blast points, leaving a section of bridge separated from either end by deep chasms. There is smoke rising from the chasms, cars scattered like childrens' toys, heroes including Captain America trying to help. Another push of a button brings the image into motion.

(Direct from original log)~~A dozen pairs, each glowing red-hot, emerging from the smoke and the shadows, on faces yellow and scaled with bizarre, meaningless fins, their bodies thick and powerful but long of arm and stumpy of leg, posture hunched like a gorilla. Sexless, covered in claws, grinning with fangs too long for their mouths, the legion ambles out of the smoke to savor the sounds of the screams before launching to attack with hideous strength and obscene speed.~~.

Natasha pauses the scene, camera focused on one of the creatures.

Athenaeum has posed:
Ysabelle's lips thin as she watches the screen unfold, but when she takes a sip of tea the serenity slips back into place - the wonderous liquid reminding her of herself. "I think you may well be right... Lesser denizens yes, but these are no imps. They barely make it over three feet tall and have far less prowess than these..." She doesn't attempt to move the screen, or rewind the picture turning back to Natasha with a look of concern. "These were the ones your friends and yourself dealt with? Did they burn what they touched? What did they smell like?" And odd question that...

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
That earns a look of surprise. "Got to admit, I didn't get close enough to one to find out," Natasha says carefully. "And I'm not sure if it was in the files. I know they were tough. I used a fifty caliber gatling gun and unless I basically skeletalized it, they kept coming." She sounds very uhappy about that fact. "They were coordinated. I didn't hear them talking making more than noises but they seemed to work together, shifting targets, focusing on what they may have perceived as the biggest threats like the Quinjet and the Hulk." He got the worst of it. The Quinjet actually only got a few scratches. "They were also fire poof. Could be frozen but thawed rapidly, I believe from their own body heat but don't quote me on that."

She taps a few more spots on the screen, pulling up a transcript. "This was heard before they arrived. It was hard to pick up from the footage but we cleaned it up as best we could. You can at least understand the words." This part she doesn't play, having no idea if in doing so she might set something off inadvertantly. "I can print it out if that would help. They refered to something they called Demon's Day."