Owner	Pose
Satana Hellstrom	Sunnydale. Brendan Cemetery. Rapidly becoming Satana Hellstrom's home-away-from-home. Well, not home. Landing strip, more like. Something about Sunnydale attracts her attention, and having a massive, haunted cemetery helps for spotting it in the Astral Plane. And the playthings here! All because of that little opening the mortals fear so! Tonight Satana is dressed to kill, in a purple number that started its existence as a slinky purple gown until it got everything from the left hip to the right ankle brutally slashed away with a matching chunk carved away from the right hip up to the left shoulder, leaving the black leather halter, complete with the metal studs visible on the right side, matching the broad dog collar with the same metal studs and D rings in equal spaces around its length. And, dressed thusly to kill, she steps into the cemetery from a roiling, smoky circle of Hellfire that materializes in the air, bringing with it the screams of the damned for the short time it's opened while she steps through. She gets her bearings and starts walking to the cemetery gate, only to find herself stymied in that goal by the collection of very pale young men and women, with wild, hungry eyes, putting themselves between her and what they perceive as her escape. "Oh, you really don't want to do this..." she says to the vampires in her thrilling contralto. "You want to go into town and hunt something more your speed." Beat. "Like infants."
June Moone	June Moone was taking pictures of graves. Using her camera, one by one, a quick flash the only mark of her in the place. It's very dark or it was, until that burst of hellfire over there... Hellfire. Nope. Don't look, June, don't look. Just play it cool. No need to panic. No need. No need to say it. E...ehhhh shit," she mutters to herself. She's wearing a plaid jumper and a frankly overly flouncy white blouse, with frilly sleeves and all. June got up to cottagecore s hit now and again. Sometimes she even wore a frilly hat. So what? So shit. She squats low and starts to crab walk down the line of stones, but finds herself going towards the fire, not away from it. God damn curiosity got her again. She's going to regret this, isn't she? But here she is, trying to peek and see just what the hellfire was all about and when she gets her eyes on Satana... Well, she's real fucking surprised.
Willow Rosenberg	Willow was out here for a very different thing - mainly to clear her head and figure out some things. The next semester of her Master's was fast approaching and the funny thing was, the closer she got to it, the more 'meh' she felt. These days the only thing that was keeping her attention was her spellwork. It was like she opened the doors after so years of knocking at them. The whole world opened up. And she was in love! Did she want to quit her Master's after fighting so hard to be a student? A very important student (if her mentor was to be trusted!). And what about her jobs - plural. The for pay, and the other ones? What about them? Walking with no particular destination, she wandered close to Brendan Cemetery in Sunnyvale, she heard a female voice cursing. If she was smart, and she didn't want to be involved, she should have turned around and gotten out of there. She should have. She didn't. *sigh* A quick look around showed vampires. Phht. Those she could have turned in her sleep. Well, close enough. Buffy would have turned them in her sleep. Willow needed a little more prep work. And seeing as she saw them, she guesses she should help. Wandering closer, she asks, "Do you need help?" Not knowing who she'd wandered into. Those vampires hadn't a chance.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana sighs as the vampire crowd doesn't take the message. "They always have to see the demonstration before taking the hint," she mutters to herself. The gown morphs in an eye-catching (yet somehow slightly nauseating) way into a patent leather catsuit (held together by chrome buckles and straps. Her eyes start to glow with the very fires of Hell that she'd not long ago commanded to temporarily form a portal for her into the cemetery. Eldritch words drip from her tongue:     Zakur bat bezala! And then she giggles. Completely spoiling the effect she was building up. "She's not so tough!" the leader of the pack of young vampires says. Or, rather, that's what he tries to say. It comes out more "Sheeeshnawshospufff!" Incoherent words come with what looks like a very large excess of saliva. An excess of saliva that all the vampires are now showing, as drool leaks from their mouths in epic quantities. "I told you. You need to find prey more your speed. Like in..." And that's when Willow talks. The lights in the eyes extinguish, and the imperial bearing she was taking (ruined slightly by the tittering) vanishes. Satana returns to oozing sexpot instead of Lord of Hell Made Manifest. "Oh, I remember you! You're from that delightful shop! Winifred? Willimene?" If June is noted, she's not commented on. And lets' face it. Nobody with the power of the Enchantress moves around the general vicinity of Satana without being noted...
June Moone	Not noted? Not commented on? That's just the way June likes it! There are quiet people who crave the spotlight, who want to be noticed, who like attention and conversation and...well. Sufficed to say, June Moone is not among their number. Unnoticed is just the way she likes, ohhhhhhh no... Her skirt catches on a thorny bramble next to an old grave and she squeals as it rips, tearing all the way up the side and splitting her skirt half-off. Straight out of a god damn Russ Meyer movie. Ridiculous. She clutches together the remainder of her skirt and turns slowly, "Don't mind me. Look at the demon. Go on, look at the demon, I'm nothing, don't make me do it!"
Willow Rosenberg	~Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble..~ Willow blinks. Furiously. Satana didn't need her! Figures. Then again in Willow circle, Nick was more powerful then she was. For a moment she was defeated. For this? She could have pretended not to notice the vampires and hurried off away.. Not that Willow could have and felt okay with herself. "Willow." A pause, and then, "Aren't you going to.." What finish them? Kill them? Make them beg? (She did happen to get Satana's 'Lord of Hell' get up before she returned to the 'regular' Satana.) June was a different matter altogether. Pleading with the vampires to not notice her. And for some reason she acted like she almost believed that she could do it. At least she could give her some protection. Circling around June she made sigils and wards that should help? If she stayed still. But, what to do about Satana? "Maybe we can catch up once these vampires are dealt with?" She still didn't recognize June as the Enchantress.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana's eyes snap to where June exposes herself. In several senses of the term. A slow smile builds up on her face. She holds her hand up in the telephone gestures after making eye contact with June, mouthing, Call me! A quick wink and she turns her attention back to Willow. The poor drooling vampires currently in disarray as they try to figure out what's going on don't even warrant a glance yet. "Right! Willow! I'm sorry. I'm terrible with names." Says one of the greatest demonologists in the multiverse. Who works primarily through remembering Names. Lying greatest demonologists. "How have you been, though?" Her eyes stray back to June and her smile widens. "What makes you think I'm a demon?" she wonders aloud. "I'm just a visitor to the ... erm ... cemetery. At night. And helpless victim of these horrible demonic entities!" Her voice feigns trembling fear with the final words. Which has the impact of taking the angry, but nervous, vampires and firing up their aggression again. (They're hungry. It's not their fault. Totally. Who's their sire and why no training!?) En masse, all 13 vampires charge the trio of women.
June Moone	June straightens herself for a moment, "Look, I have multiple published papers in the phenomena of demonology and ritualistic summonings. I would say, you're most likely some variety of succubus, maybe a demon half-breed. H-human women are especially favorite mating partners for demons," she says. "Not vampires. Only some breeds of vampires...have sexual urges. Some don't have any such urges at all, entirely consumed with the..the thirst for blood," she says. Willow she holds up a hand to, backing up a bit, "No, it's okay, thank you, I'm fine, I appreciate it, I just...it's not safe to be around me...Not for...not for any of you." She clutches her satchel close to her chest, when suddenly there's a rush of vampires trying to pour over her. As she goes down, before they begin to tear at her flesh, June Moone does the only thing she can do. She shouts. "ENCHANTRESS!"
Willow Rosenberg	Huh? June was afraid of Satana? Not the vampires?? Huh? Quickly she looks on June. Then Satana. Then June again. "Isn't she afraid of the vampires?" Come to think of it, why wasn't Willow afraid of them as well? "Don't mention it," she tells Satana. "You wouldn't be the first, nor the last person who didn't remember my name." "Drat it!" Not damn. Hell. Shit. Or fuck. Willow doesn't curse. But she does pack a wallop. This time with a twist. Holding her arm and fist out she makes a slender bolt of lightning. Soon as it hits a vampire she twists her wrist *just so* and as it pierces it's heart she opens her hand decimating, from the inside out, the vampire's heart. "Take that! Ha!" Too bad she doesn't witness June's transformation. Heck! Too bad she had used the last of her polymorph potion the other day - she might have fit in with the other two!
Satana Hellstrom	"YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING LEARN DO YOU!?" The transition is as sudden as it is shocking. From slightly ditzy sexpot to full-on Hell Lord in a fraction of a second. Bat wings burst through her back, tearing through the leather of her outfit, while horns corkscrew out of the sides of her head. Her eyes blaze, now, with Hellfire. A taloned finger points at the closest of the onrushing vampires and direct two bolts of flame that emit from said eyes straight into its eyes. The vampire's eyes burn out instantly before the contents of the skull turn into superheated steam, popping the head like a gory grenade ... and the twin bolts continue straight on to repeat this two more times, the bolts shifting with finger motions, to pop two more heads. "I TOLD YOU TO SEEK PREY MORE YOUR SPEED! NOW YIELD OR DIE!" And then she feels it. Something big. Something concealed. Something she felt moving and raging. That something is now tearing out. In shock she spins, ignoring the vampires once more, to stare in shock at June.
June Moone	The vampires on top of June find themselves suddenly horrified as their hands merely sink into the scholarly woman. Her touch turns them and they start to scream, the third leaping back as two start to literally melt. As if they were bathed in sulfuric acid, the flesh starts to peel from their bones, exposing the skeleton beneath, fangs out and howling in horror and pain before even the bone dissolves, a burst of ash finishing the process. From the rotted, melted flesh that puddled below, a figure stirs, rising up, oil-slick black and then peeling open like a rotten egg to expose the green-skinned woman underneath. Her black hair is plastered down as if by swamp water, the swamps of Louisiana, right around Belle Reve Prison to be precise. She opens her mouth, an abyssal maw of unquiet darkness. "NO PREY HERE, I'M AFRAID." she laughs, an echoing, hollow sound as she drags that third vampire back to impale itself over her hand, it's heart pulsing a moment in her hand before it, too, reduces to ash. "Weak little ticks," she mutters, rubbing her fingers together.
Willow Rosenberg	"It worked! Hot heck! It worked!" Willow was in the middle of casting, and exulting, when something felt.. off. And it wasn't the vampires, or Satana. It was June.. With trepidation, she slowly turned around leaving her back towards the vampires.. Gulp? Let's see. June > Satana > Willow In the realm of powers Willow might as well be a normal human. Double gulp? Indeed.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana snappoints at June...whatever the Hell just arrived. Check that. Satana knows Hell. This one isn't from there. Operating theory: just an eldritch abomination. Satana instantly grows fond of June's inner friend. "I know, right?" she says, going back to half-baked ditz mode of conversation. "I *TOLD* them to go away and find someone who can't just pop them like a zit, but they don't LISTEN!" That last word is spoken in a louder, angrier voice, with a second voice under it, almost, but not quite, two whole octaves below. The source of the sudden ire is another vampire with more hunger than common sense trying to attack her from behind while she chats up the horror from another plane. A snarl of rage presages a pair of taloned hands that just shreds the vampire's body, leaving the heart bare for her to pluck it out with two claws. She grins and tosses the heart to Willow. "Here, you do the honours, K?" She air-kisses Willow's way and looks back at June. "Honey, if you have tentacles? We're going to be REALLY good friends!"
June Moone	June Moone laughs wickedly, "It isn't unknown. I've tied the occasional hen," she snarls playfully. The being that emerges is somewhere between monster and bombshell, with a plunging neckline in a slinky black Morticia dress, shaking out her damp hair until it runs lustrous sand black over her shoulders. Her skin is green-grey, lips black, eyes, yes, that same darkness, lurking in every corner of her, maddened and aching and hungry and wrong. "You may call me Enchantress," she says. The vampires don't even try at her anymore, if they don't just run away. Rightfully so. She looks over at Willow and regards the human witch, cocking her head askew in a slightly unearthly way. "How was I ever such a weak and mortal thing? It looks good on you though, child. Fear not. Your soul is safe from me. For now."
Willow Rosenberg	Right. For what it is worth, June or whoever that is is on their side, and the last scraggly vampires to deal with. Though Willow only had the time to catch the heart and deal with it before they are all dealt with. Which brings Willow back the the Enchantress. "Oooooooh.." The name she had heard before. She couldn't help but bob a curtsy. "Thank you, I think? I don't believe in souls, though. Not specifically. I'm more of a returning to the universe sort of pagan, until I am reincarnated. A soul usually means you believe in heaven. And Yahweh pronouncing whether you are worthy or not. I don't believe in that." Yes. Willow takes this time to have a discussion on religion.
Satana Hellstrom	"You and I *have* to exchange contact information, sis!" Satana says with a wild glint in her eye. "I made a bed that had nothing but mouths and tentacles on it once. It was ... well, it was fun but had a design flaw that was almost my undoing. Long story. Involves a fox." No, she's not going to expand on that. Instead she turns her head to look at Willow quizically. "Ah ... sweetie? Willow? There's loads of Hells and loads of Heavens. The Whoreson's worldview isn't the only one that has those..." She winks. "Though obviously I'm in his worldview, being damned by Him for all eternity and all that jazz." She flicks her gaze across at Enchantress. "And you know, that's just not fair! I mean c'mon, like I had a choice in things. MY DAD IS SATAN. Obviously I'm going to be demonic and have my soul damned for all eternity ... like at the moment of conception! And in his defence, yeah, Dad's not going to win Father of the Year anytime soon, but he treats me better than the Whoreson treated his son!" Her own brand of confused theology delivered, she turns her attention back to Willow. "But sweetie, if you really don't believe in Hell ... wanna kiss?" Her smile widens and somehow her face expands to fill Willow's field of vision ... only it doesn't. It's more like ... pressure. On Willow's psyche. To look only at... DAMMIT! It's magic! And given the lack of somatic or verbal components, it's inborne. Easy enough to resist ... but why? She's so beautiful. Alluring. Those lips are there for her. The ones she's just wet, a pink flash of her tongue making them all glistening. And she so obviously wants to ... DANGER WILLOW ROSENBERG! DANGER!
June Moone	"No need to explain. I know where the wild things are - they're inside me," she says with a wide grin of darkness, almost more like jet black lip color now. Her pale skin has veins of darkness running under the surface and she flares her nostrils, drinking deeply. "This is a place of very, very bad juju. I approoooooooooooooove," she laugsh, spinnning around for a moment. She watches Satana begin to descend towards Willow and, well...while she might have protected the girl from the vampires, quite frankly, she found the entire affair rather amusing. Alluring even. At the very least, it would certainly be worth watching. "You're right, I do think we'd get along," the chaos monster smiles.
Willow Rosenberg	Wait gall darn minute.. (is darn a curse word?!?) So many things are attacking her psyche at once. The Whoreson.. must be Jesus? Even if she weren't pagan, she didn't believe in the Divinity of Jesus. She respected him as another religion's saviour (or somesuch). She only respected Yahweh because of her parents! So. Many. Things. To. Process! But when Satana leers over her, Willow has just the brief second to hold her head high and whisper, "I did date a demon before. And you can force me to kiss you, but forever after I won't feel the same way about you again." Not like she knows /what/ she feels, but up to the point, Satana hasn't broken any rules that would make it so that Willow would not trust her.
Satana Hellstrom	"You have me confused..." Satana says, with a grin, still holding Willow with her eyes, but no longer pressing forward. "...with my ... more ... forceful cousins." She lets off the domination pressure, keeping it down to an abiding tension only. "I don't force. I don't have to force. People ... want me. Desire me. They come to me in the end." And the spell is broken, like an elastic snapped. "Or they don't. Like you. I'm all about the consent, honey. Just ... call it ... consent ... with consequences. I seduce. I tease. I invite. I tempt. But it doesn't count if I force. It's not a sin then." Her eyes glow once again with Hellfire. "And..." Her voice is back to the double-voice. A thrilling contralto underlaid by almost two octaves by an almost beastial bass. "...I exist to expose and to punish sin." She walks around Willow, very blatantly undressing the young witch with her eyes, walking so closely that the two women's body heats mingle. "You wouldn't be a satisfying meal. You've got a few sin stains here and there, but overall your soul would be bland. Tasteless. Sustenance, yes, but not satisfying. The rice cake of souls." Her eyes swivel to Enchantress. "Yours, on the other hand, would be very tasty!" She licks her lips and does the visible eyeball undressing again. And again. "Like a finely aged steak sauteed perfectly at the hands of a master chef. And there's SO MUCH of it I could eat my fill, come out bloated, and barely touch it. May I?" She reaches out a hand with inviting body language.
June Moone	June Moone taps a black nail against her onyx lips. "You'd enjoy the taste, but you couldn't keep me down in that little tummy of yours. I'm too much. I'd split you open like a ripe pumpkin. But we would have fun. Of that, I have no doubt," she says. She swirls her fingers in the air, forcing will and power through herself in a primal way, unleashing her evil might in an act of necromancy, bones tearing from the earth in flexing ivory shards, yellowed with time and age, to form a wicked sort of lounge for her to fall back into, holding her up languidly as she watches, "By all means, come get some, as they say."
Willow Rosenberg	Willow listens to Satana speak in her lulling voice. What she gets is without the contest? She wasn't good enough for Satana to bother with. That hurt. She mimed pulling a dagger out of her, and dropping it to the floor. She was so depressed for that moment she missed June and Satana having it out like two prizefighters checking their opponents out before swinging the first punch.