Owner	Pose
Satana Hellstrom	"Dagror, when I find you you will suffer!" An annoyed Satana Hellstrom soars through the Astal Plane, looking through its native spaces, seeking someone. Or something. "The longer it takes me to find you, the more you will suffer!" There's plenty of evidence of anger in the succusbus' demeanour. The facial expression with its snarl. The eyes glowing with literal Hellfire. The horns that have grown out and curled up beside both ears. The leather bat wings. The fangs. The claws. And yet somehow she still looks hot. Magic! "Show yourself and you'll suffer, but remain an imp. Upset me any further and I'll drain you to a wisp and send you back into the flames for the next thousand years before you get elevated again!"
Doctor Fate	The Tower of Fate was a place of peace. Of meditation. And yet, as he floats there, Kent Nelson calls upon the old magics. Someone was screaming across the void, enraged and uncaged. He focuses on the unique signature long enough for his soul to leave his body as it traverses into the Astral. <<Nabu, I may have need of you.>> Slowly, the garb of Fate dons over Kent Nelson, yet the Helmet remains off of his head. As his appearance makes manifest in the Astral, his eyes search for this strange woman who flies with hell in mind. "Unwise to heap such threats across the void...for one does not wish to know when the void answers."
Satana Hellstrom	The countermagics happen almost of their own volition, like they're a part of the woman, not merely trained into her. The sensory magics flow forth from her as if part of her as well, though here it could well be they are. They find and focus on the invading presence as the wards come up, shields spring into being. Thus far no offensive magics are in play. But something in her form suggests she doesn't need to cast spells for offence... "It is me and my kind that answers across the void," she says, barely civil, still very obviously tense with rage, but calming herself visibly. How visibly? She's visibly less 'horny' ... in that the horns are corkscrewing, it seems, back into her head. In addition the talons are retracting. The bat wings are still behind her, though, with all they imply. "One of my servitors has ruined an experiment and fled into the void to escape his punishment. If you've seen him, hand him to me." The woman's presence is commanding. She wears power and authority of an infernal variety like a garment. "Please." She adds the word at least. It's delivered with a sharp edge, but she does use it. "Satana Hellstrom of the Boston Hellstroms." The old lie falls off her tongue like ... let's not take this simile too far, shall we? "You are?"
Doctor Fate	Kent floats there like some ancient being or cosmic judge. Magic radiates off of him like it was some kind of anomaly. Yet within this being are two: Kent Nelson and Nabu the Wise. Together do they face Satana. Together do their voices speak in unison, unknowing of which is which. "Only the arrogant assume it is only demons one should fear in the beyond." Implying Fate has deep knowledge of the Astral and some secrets that lie within it, of beasts of other realms who can find a nest here if they are not carefully exhumed. "I have seen no such creature." Fate decrees, his eyes nearly radiating with golden light. She is not the only one who's authority is worn like a fine cloak. 'Please'. A word given in anger and barely reserved calm. "The purpose of this experiment?"