Owner	Pose
Satana Hellstrom	Hustle culture is a disease endemic to New York City. As the world's self-proclaimed engine of capitalism, its gears grind through people like the gears of a thresher grind through the arms of careless farmers. The subway is filled with some of the people getting ground by the system; mostly of people who are trying to elevate themselves into gears instead of hamburger. Junior investment analysts, quants, and other scum of the wealthy class, fill the subway, escaping Manhattan for their nice homes in the suburbs, looking beat, drowsy ... thinned out, even. Most of them tweaking on chemical enhancements that are beginning to fail. And in the middle of this is a woman. It's not unusual to have a woman on a subway, though this late at night the women inhabiting them tend to be of the 'negotiable virtue' kind, parading wares to sell as the drugs they use to numb their pain at the turn life has taken for them gnaw at their insides, making them desperate for money to get more. This woman, at first glance, could be mistaken for one of those. The way she dresses, showing more skin than a Vegas streetwalker having a wardrobe malfunction, would lead to that conclusion at first blush, but the impression rapidly changes upon seeing the demeanour. She's not world-weary. She's not tired. She's not showing signs of withdrawal. She glides through the subway, sharp eyes inspecting inhabitants, like she owns it. And own it she does, at least attention-wise. As the subway approaches the Manhattan station, she makes a choice. She stops in front of one particularly tweaked-looking man in a fine, fine suit, looks him up and down boldly, letting him take her all in at the same time, before making eye contact. She extends a hand. He, seemingly in a daze, takes it. And as the doors open, Satana leads her next victim out of the tube, guiding him, looking like he's hypnotized, though with an unusual fire in his eyes, toward a door labelled "authorized personnel only".
Tyran'tar	'So this is a public transit' The Tamaranean thought. He had been studying the human race since he was assigned to this sector. He been exploring the ground and underground level of the city, dressed in a button up hawaiian T-shirt and shorts and sandals. He seen this outfit on a human and he liked the designs and colors so he used his power ring to replicate the clothing. He stood a half head taller then most earth people and his red hair and green eyes and orange skin definitely made him stand out. He Rode the Subway from another station.     He turns to see THE MOST BEAUTIFUL Human he has seen so far. Almost entranced, He stares at the woman seemingly looking about. He studies her and notices the human she goes up to. He watches them first out of jealousy until he noticed the human's gaze. Those eyes looked hypnotized. He followed them until he came to the authorized personnel only door. One part of him said to obey the laws of the planet while the other said that they werent authorized personnel so maybe it means something else on this planet.     He opens the door and enters.
Satana Hellstrom	She wasted no time. The hunger was deep and this soul smelled like the succubus version of prime rib or even filet mignon. Lust there was aplenty. She didn't even have to do anything beyond exist for his mind to fill with that. But too Wrath. Building up at the 'unfairness' of him not getting that promotion over Brad. Thomas Brandis, for that was the name of her soon-to-be-gone victim (if she gets her way) was steeped in rage-fueled plans to 'get even' with the man who'd dared take what was 'his' job. And of course the reason Brad got the promotion and he didn't was because of the Sloth. Thomas felt the world owed him things; he didn't have to work for them. Vanity, thus, too lurched its way into the equation. But towering over it all was Avarice. A heady baseline for which everything else, even the Lust, was merely a spice by comparison. Oh yes, Thomas Brandis would be a perfect little meal. And when Tyran'tar opens the door, Satana is already at work. Thomas' hands are sliding over her body, over and under clothing with wild abandon, pushing her back against a shelf, both ignoring the cleaning supplies falling down from the impact. She, for her part, has her hands on his cheeks, along the jawline, her lips hungrily contacting his. Did I mention the bat wings? No? Oh. Consider them mentioned. Sprouting from her back are two enormous bat wings, now, which somehow Thomas has failed to notice. As he's failed to notice the fire in her eyes. Literal fire. Hellfire. For Satana starts to feed, now, pulling back from the kiss, her eyes closed, a purple mist pulling out of Thomas' body, forming into a mass between their mouths. He lets out a long, loud moan of pure carnal satisfaction as she starts to pull his soul right out of his body.
Tyran'tar	Tyran'tar blinks at the scene of Carnal lust. "I am sorry." He tries to say however the batwings and fire in her eyes stops him in mid sentence. He moves in to try and get between the two, in an attempt to stop the soul sucking in progress. He didnt use his power ring because he wanted to keep it as a surprise if this...creature intended hostility. "What in the name of Oa are you?" He says, half amazed at her beauty even if she had batwings, and half Wariness to try and resist any charms this woman possessed.
Satana Hellstrom	Distracted as she is by the feeding, Satana doesn't notice the entrance nor words of the intruder. Not until Tyran'tar gets between her and her prey does she take notice of him, and in her surprise she steps back, deeper into the room, crouching, eyes flaming bright enough to light the room better than the fading LED bulb in the ceiling. Wariness for a moment, keeps her silent as she assesses the newcomer, before she straightens up, the wings disappearing behind her (with some ... strange sounds as they do so). "Do you always interrupt people when we're...?" She lets the rest of the sentence hang in the air there while looking with complete innocence at Tyran'tar. A Tyran'tar who has a victim he's saved who apparently doesn't appreciate being saved, given the way he's struggling to break free to go to Satana again. "Were you ... interested in joining in?" Satana continues with her sly questioning. "I'm fine with two. Three. Five even. But not four. That's always awkward." The smile is as lascivious as it is malicious. "You don't look like you're from around here. Sailor from abroad looking for a good time?" The voice, already a thrilling contralto seemingly designed to reach into the human brain to wrap around the attraction centres drops into a husky lower register. "I'm always up to show visitors a good time." And still Thomas tries to struggle away from Tyran'tar and into his predator's arms.
Tyran'tar	Tyran'tar tries to keep the man back before the woman says what she says. He didnt stop to think perhaps this is how humans did things here. He moves away from the couple. "I am not sure how well that would work with...someone like me and someone like you." He says regrettably as he begins to back out to give them privacy. He opens the door and will wait outside for the woman to finish in the subway tunnels looking slightly flushed as he mentally berates himself outside.
Satana Hellstrom	The hunger is strong. And although unwise, Satana has to feed. Now. So when the orange stranger backs OUT she takes the change afforded her and, once the door closes, finishes off the job without the foreplay and teasing she usually enjoys. *Pity,* she thinks as she just brutally takes Thomas' soul. *This one was shaping up to be fun.* Outside the door, Tyran'tar hears that same loud, carnal moan from Thomas. But it quickly turns to a sound of terror. Then pain. Then silence. Horrible horrible silence.
Tyran'tar	He remains at the door, ignoring the moan. At the sound of pain and terror and silence he realized he been duped. He opens the door and enters quickly, looking to the woman. "You killed him did you?" He asks as he is now expecting a fight from the succubus as he clenches his fists. He had been in the subway most of the day so his solar reserves were low, but hopefully she didnt know what a green lantern ring was.
Satana Hellstrom	What Satana drops when Tyran'tar bursts back in is ... human shaped. But it's withered. Dry. Light. And Satana, who had a certain feral look about her earlier, is looking quite calm as she's burst in on. Again. "Oh, come now, Thomas was headed for Hell already. I just made him useful for a change before sending his remnants screaming there for eternal punishment." Seemingly unfazed at the outburst and the clenched fists, she slithers her way toward her interlocutor, carefully stepping over the withered corpse of Thomas, his face contorted in pain and fear, toward the door. "He's not someone worth mourning, you know," she adds, pausing before she reaches Ty, looking down at the corpse, which she briefly shifts with the toe of her shoe. It moves with sickening ease like it's made of ash. "A vile, vile soul. Just the kind I like. A veritable cordon bleu of repast. The people he cheats, the women he beats, the child whose upkeep he refuses 'on principle' to pay will not miss him." Completely unapologetic, her gaze locks with Tyran'tar. And he can feel something pressing down on his personality, something ageless, powerful, and deeply sensual, telling him to step aside and look the other way.
Tyran'tar	"Scum or not, he was a living being whose life you stole." He says firmly. He studies the woman. "What gives you the right to take life?" He calmly. He feels something pressing against his mind, telling him to ignore the fact she stole a life and look the other way. A part of him wants to do what this woman says. A thought enters his mind that maybe if he does this, she may be his, but he ignores the lust and desire and mental domination, reaching over to try and grasp her arm. "You are going to turn yourself over to the authorities."
Satana Hellstrom	Satana smiles, amused at the simple take on things. "You're the kind who wouldn't kill Hitler if taken to pre-World War Two Austria, aren't you?" she murmurs. She shrugs and lets her arm be taken. "You'll find two transit policemen just up the stairs. Tell them what you saw. Have them arrest me." DANGER WILL ROBINSON ... ah ... TYRAN'TAR! DANGER! DANGER! To quote another fellow, IT'S A TRAP! But the slinky, seductive woman oozes everything except danger right now. OK, not everything. Mostly just carnal attraction. And a whiff of cruel amusement.
Tyran'tar	"Who is Hitler?" He asks, looking Confused. "Believe it or not I am not from here..." He says as he realizes that the woman had a point, it was her word against his and she could easily use her charms to convince the cops to work against him. He was boned. He lets go of her arm after the realization. "What you did to him, you took something from him, From your calm demeanor I assume you gained sustenance from his life force. Do you have to kill?" He asks as he tries to reason with the monster before him. He studies her intensely, his emerald green eyes looking into hers to try and see if there is anything to her that regretted the act.
Satana Hellstrom	"I am a predator, yes," the woman says in the lowest of purrs. "Do you begrudge a tiger her meal of a deer? Same thing." She turns her head to look down at Thomas again. "Once every ... about two weeks? ... I've been cursed with a need to consume a soul." She reaches out a hand to rest on Tyran'tar's chest if he doesn't stop her in some way. "But once it's over, I'm fine for a while." Her languid eyes blink slowly. "So I hunt for sinners. I do His work," she points up surreptitiously. "I take sinners to Hell, and in the process I purge the hunger that builds up until I lose control." Her voice darkens. "You don't want to see me lose control. I'm not very nice when that happens. I'll eat any soul then, not just the vile ones." Beat. "And vile ones taste better. Souls like yours are like bland rice pudding with no sugar."
Tyran'tar	"I see." He says as he looks to the corpse. He doesn't stop her hand, a part of him leans into the touch as he watches her. "At least you are taking out scum instead of innocents..." He says. The taking of life didn't seem to bother him. He didn't even look squeamish about the corpse. He raises his fist and the ring glows and a beam of light fires from the ring and the corpse breaks down to nothingness before the beam vanishes from his ring.     "Well at least I know I am not appetizing to you. It's comforting to know that I am not your type." He says coldly.
Satana Hellstrom	"Your soul isn't my type," Satana says with a chuckle. "Bodies are something completely different. I don't just recreate to feed. I quite enjoy it for the desire as we..." Her eyes widen as the corpse is caused to vanish. "Oh, my. You're not just colourful. You have secrets behind that orange skin." Deep in her eyes little pinpricks of Hellish light appear as her face stares at Tyran'tar with wonder. "I'm going to enjoy, I think, our newfound friendship." She glances back at the missing body. "As long as you understand," she continues, sidling up next to the Lantern, "that for safety's sake--your safety--it can't be exclusive." She seems to be assuming something confusing. "For recreation I prefer places that are more private, more sumptuous. If you'd prefer to get to know me out here where someone can walk in on us, however, I'm game for that too." That smile goes on forever. "I'm very ... flexible."
Tyran'tar	"It isn't like I am marrying you, be with who you desire. I need someone to help me adjust to the culture of this world. My world is vastly different then this one and I need to be able to interact with people without too much problem." He says as he leans in to kiss her lightly should she let him.     He breaks skin contact and nods. "Now I can speak your language without using the ring to translate." He explains as he holds up his hand to show the green ring on his middle finger. He lowers his hand and begins to walk out, waiting on her to catch up.
Satana Hellstrom	"Oh, I can help you adjust. I can show you the culture most won't let you see." Satana sidles alongside, practically joined with Tyran'tar as he walks, arm around his waist. "Everybody always shows the best face of the world when newcomers show up. But that doesn't strike me as honest. You should learn all of it, from its highest peaks to its lowest trenches."
Tyran'tar	Tyran'tar instinctively snakes an arm around her waist as well as he walks along. "I was a Soldier on my world, before we gave up our warrior culture after our monarch betrayed us to our enemy. Per their arrangement we had to give up our warrior status. My name is Tyran'tar but you can call me Ty." He offers to the woman.
Satana Hellstrom	"I'm called Satana Hellstrom. You may call me Mistress." She giggles. "That's a joke. Call me Satana." She looks Ty over from the side, assessingly. "Do they pay warriors well where you come from? Or will I be paying for our little tour?" As they go up the stairs, she fingerwaves to the two police she'd said would be there. "So where do you want to go first? You're a warrior: underground fight scene? Or are you on shore duty and want to see the world of carnal desire? Just drinking? Food? Sights, both grand and depraved?"
Tyran'tar	"Where you wish to take me. I have no resources on this planet, I have a ship I can take you too should you wish to see the stars." He says as he watches the woman studies her. "I wont deny I desire you, which is weird, I normally am not attracted to aliens." He says with a confused tone to his voice. "I am all yours tonight."
Satana Hellstrom	"I'm built for desire," Satana murmurs. And is she getting taller? "I can be--will be--whatever you desire most." Her skin is turning orange. Her form is slimming, the clothing changing to suit the new shape. And those eyes are going green. Not human green. All-green. Glowing. "Does this form please? Or do you want something else? Something exotic?"
Tyran'tar	"I think your beautiful regardless of how you look." He says as he chuckles at her and he smiles at her. "So tell me about yourself Satana, what is it you desire most?" He asks curiously.