Owner	Pose
Satana Hellstrom	The thousand-dollar-a-plate gala for single mothers had been a success the night before. Well, had been a success until the arrival of Bostonian/New Yorker/Sunnydaleite (?!) dilettante Satana Hellstrom. Arriving so late she was on the bleeding edge of fashion, she'd arrived wearing an outfit that scrupulously skirted the bounds of Metropolis' obscenity laws without ever quite stepping over them. In addition she'd been wearing two almost unnaturally handsome men, one on each arm. The scandals began when she greeted the married Wilhelm Frost as an old lover, causing more than a little bit of a scene with the couple, before going to donation table to drop off a cheque that was precisely ten times the size of the largest single donation the wealthiest of Metropolis had donated. Chaos was sown at the subsequent dance, and soon word had spread in journalistic circles about the tall, sensual vixen who'd caused such a stir. And then Lois gets a place, a time, and a short message by email: "I'd love to talk." Signed by none other than the noisy bride of chaos herself. The park selected was in the middle of a crisp, cool, January day and Satana is easy to find. She's the one sitting on a bench in clothing that would make a streetwalker blush, heedless of the icy chill, watching the people watch her.
Lois Lane	Charity events are usually fluff, unless there's some kind of red meat to sink teeth into. But it seems this time around, Lois actually wishes she had used her press pass and got in the door. Still, a story is a story. That others shared pictures and the initial shock of the event is all good and well. But Lois? She has the interview.     She also has a photographer, but they are out of sight for now. No point in scaring the story off. Granted, from what Lois heard, it is unlikely that a tornado would drive this one away.     She arrives in a classic, black trenchcoat. The slacks she wears under it look comfortable, warm, and would fit in just any situation that didn't demand a dress.     She cases this appointment a bit before walking right up to Satana. Best to make sure this isn't a trap. When she is satisfied, though, she goes up to introduce herself.     "I'm Lois Lane, from the Daily Planet. I got your message, Miss..?"
Satana Hellstrom	"Just call me Santana," the self-naming woman says with an ironic smile, wearing lightly-tinted shades and looking Lois up and down with an uncomfortably intense stare. "I'm Satana Hellstrom, of the Boston Hellstroms, if you want to be ridiculously formal, but I prefer informality." She pats the bench next to her. "Please do take a seat, Lois. Or do you prefer Ms. Lane?" Her eyes stray to a jogger running by, giving him that same intense stare she'd just given Lois, like she was looking over a large meal. "It's so funny," she says off-handedly. "All these people doing something they hate to do so they can live a few minutes longer in a life they don't enjoy. I don't understand people." Her eyes return to Lois. "But you. You live for this. You're one of the few that enjoys what she does. It's why I thought I'd talk to you." Her hand again beckons Lois to take a seat.
Lois Lane	That look -and her outfit- are noticed by Lois. But she is not so easily distracted. These are facts to be noted, but not things to be judged.     "A pleasure to meet you, Satana. Quite an unusual name, that. And please, just Lois. Who has time for the rest? We are, after all, fleeting things in the end."     It sounds flippant, but her expression is serious. She's had more than her share of reminders that death is very real and -more terrifying- sometimes completely meaningless.     She settles next to Satana and pulls out a recorder and a notepad. "Is it okay if I record this conversation?" she asks. "You caused something of a stir last night. I imagine your story is one that people will be captivated by."
Satana Hellstrom	"Some are fleeting yes," Satana says mysteriously. "And yes, my father is quite prone to ... unusual names. I have a brother. Damion. Hellstrom." She makes an exaggerated shrug with a helpless 'what you gonna do?' expression. "I've learned to love it. I mean, my father did love me; still does, in his peculiar way. I can put up with some oddities here and there." She tilts her head and thinks at the question. Not the recording question. That just gets a hand-wave of acceptance paired with, "Record away. If I don't like what's on it, it will vanish anyway." She winks,then goes into that pondering expression. "I meant to cause a stir. Hypocrisy is one of the few things in human matters that truly upsets me. Wealthy people dripping pittances, by their standards, to impress the desperately poor with their so-called 'largesse' are among the largest of the hypocrites."
Lois Lane	There are so many directions to go. But first things first, establishing identity. "Damion as well. Certainly your father has a kind of flair for the dramatic. Where are you from, Satana?" She does not look like a run-of-the-mill socialite. She acts nothing like one, either.     The mention of vanishing away the recording is noted. But that is a distraction she will simply ignore for now. "So last night was an attempt to serve up a kind of social justice against those who pretend to act generous, but are simply posing for the cameras? How did you come to this conclusion? And why is that this in particular earns your wrath?"
Satana Hellstrom	"I'm from Boston. Well, that's where I was born. Technically my principle residence isn't Boston any longer. It's Hell." She lets that sit a moment with an amused smile on her face before continuing. "Boston was annexed into Hell about 15 years ago, understand." She winks and chuckles. "But Boston is my spiritual home, though I currently have residences in New York and a little place you've never heard of called Sunnydale. I chiefly live in New York, however. It's the sinning capital of the world, after all." She pauses then to ponder again. "You ascribe too many kind motives to me. I did what I did because it amuses me. The fact that it upset hypocrites was just part of the amusement." She pins Lois with her eyes, then, asking, "But surely you don't think it's bad to call hypocrites out for their slanders? Each one of those was smugly condemning the single mothers they were ostensibly donating for. They were there to be seen as paragons of virtue, at the expense of poor struggling souls, when every one of them is a sinner of the highest order." She winks. "As am I. I just embrace it."
Lois Lane	Lois may be recording, but she also takes notes. Shorthand, and in a scribble that few others can read. That's no accident. She doesn't want anyone to guess what she's really thinking.     She smirks at the description of Bostom, and makes a special note about Sunnydale. She has not heard of it, but she'll at least investigate. Why would this woman have a house there?     "So you live in... hell? With some other homes. You find amusement in exposing the hypocrisy of those who pretend to be good, and you bask in sin." She pauses to think this through.     "Let's pause for a moment. Hell sounds interesting, but first let's talk about that magic S word. What is sin, Satana? I mean for those of us who never much cared for Sunday school."
Satana Hellstrom	"Oh, that's easy. Sin is what you get when you go against the dictates of the Whoreson." She lets Lois react to that word before helpfully spelling it out for her. "W-H-O-R-E-S-O-N." She chuckles, then, and moves on. "There's several models of sin, and different people have different ideas of what is or is not sinful, but it's a peculiarly universal notion: found in Buddhists, in followers of the Whoreson..." She really doesn't want to state that name, even indirectly. "...and even in secular and atheistic circles. Don't believe me on that? Try saying the 'n-word' in any civil environment--seccular or religious--and see where it gets you. The fact that I, a person who embraces sin, am calling it the 'n-word' should be clue enough of how sinful it is considered here." Satana readjusts her seat on the bench, shifting a bit closer to Lois so she can lean in to speak. "The easiest way to describe sin is to say acting or even thinking in ways that are contrary to what people consider their own better natures. This is the interesting thing to me. Sinners know they're sinning, and do it anyway. Someone who is doing something without knowing it's a sin is not a sinner. This confounds a lot of religious people, and secular too. Because for most of these, sin is 'obvious'." Satana eases the pressure of her presence, leaning back a bit. "But in the end we're all sinners. All of us do things we know are wrong. Concealing it is fruitless. It's why I do not even try to hide my sinful nature."
Lois Lane	It is a lot to navigate, but Lois captures a few notes. Interestingly, she takes notes about Satana's posture, expression, all the little things that a recording cannot. She never rejects this out of hand, but she will press back.     "So if someone is completely ignorant, or psychopathic, they might be the only sinless one around, then? But, on top of that, what does it really matter? You say you are from hell in a way. You seem to be doing fine. What's the point then of doing the right thing at all?"     She didn't expect an elaborate moral code to be part of this, but you go where the story takes you. And Lois trusts her instincts here.
Satana Hellstrom	"It's an interesting question. I've never met anybody who is completely insane, but I'm sure such exist. Their souls would, however, be completely devoid of sin. Thank you, Lois, you've given me something new to investigate. My life has interest and purpose once again." Weirdly she doesn't seem like she's being sarcastic. "And I'm from Boston. Which was recently annexed by Hell. But you're correct, I am doing quite well. Here. And to be fair I do well in Hell too, but most don't." Again she leans in, as if inviting Lois in for an intimate experience. "Very few thrive in Hell, however. Those who do wouldn't have it any other way, but most suffer horrifically, for eternity. All so that the other place..." She REALLY doesn't want to name things. Affectation? Or neurosis? "...can be devoid of the taint of sin. But personally, I enjoy the scent, the flavour of sin." She does a passable impression of Hannibal Lector from The Silence of the Lambs, flaring her nostrils dramatically and taking in a few breaths. "You ... you're quite light on sin. Were I fishing for sinners I'd throw you back until you grew up bigger. But you have the scent of pride about you. A hint of envy--your alien boyfriend with the Themysciran, perhaps?--and possibly just a touch of greed." She puts on a disappointed face. "But none of my favourite. Lust." The smile that crawls over her face is predatory and doesn't reach the eyes now staring straight into Lois'. "I could help you with that one, however. It's my speciality, you could call it."
Lois Lane	Lois takes it in. She got a lot to work with there. Still, it does leave a question about the validity of all of this. Is this truly the testemony of one who was there. Granted, Satana sure looks the part. Temptation on a whole other level. The kind of threat an engaged woman tends to keep her lover away from. But then, she rather throws Lois off track. Lois.. does not appreciate that.     "My highschool guidance counselors were all big on self-esteem. If I'm burning, they better be at least an inferno or two deeper down," she replies blandly. As for what she feels? Her expression is remarkable at hiding it. Comes with the territory. But Clark? His knack for understanding every nuance of her heartbeat would know she's very much on edge. Not that she has ever let that kind of thing stop her from chasing a story. Throwing her off /buildings/ never stops her, either.     "Sorry, I guess I'm just way too happy with what's waiting at home already," she says. She smirks and waves her ring finger just enough to call attention to the rock there. Sapphire. Not diamond. "He's my future husband, not a boyfriend, but let's... leave him out of it for now."     She may be surprised, but she's still on the attack. When your enemy has you on the ropes, you don't just put your arms up. You swing back. With Lois, that means more questions.     "Your specialty, you say. Let's talk about that. I understand you had something of a relationship with one of those hypocrites at one time. That was something you said yourself, correct? Care to elaborate on how that happened?"
Satana Hellstrom	"I've 'been with' at least a quarter of the men at the event," Satana says with a snort, pressing her lips together in amusement. "And about an eighth of the women. There's a reason why my revealing Wilhelm's indiscretion was such a shock. Hildegaard..." That would be the man's wife. "...was afraid I'd out her next." She puts her hand up to her mouth theatrically, eyes widened in faux shock. "Oopsie." Then she laughs, happily. "Do with that little bit of info I just 'accidentally'..." She doesn't air-quote. She doesn't have to. "...leaked to you whatever you choose. I exposed Wilhelm because he called me a whore. Which I found insulting. I've never accepted payment for the carnal delights I indulge in and share. I share the joys of the flesh freely and with abandon. Being called a whore by one of my lovers ... that gets pushback."
Lois Lane	Lois grins. It is amusing to her. "Wow, who knew that such a sordid history lay behind them all." One gets the impression she is not surprised in the least. "I do not go in for it, but I occasionally overhear what is going on in other venues of the news. I only dive into those more tawdry things when they actually matter. If they cause harm to innocents, or if it puts someone in the proper context, I would expose the truth. I do not bother wasting my best ammunition prematurely. Who knows, they might be of interest as a follow-up piece for what I have been working on. You are familiar with human trafficking, I presume?"     Lois is getting an idea of Satana's mood and she does very much fit the whole devil/demon role quite nicely. Hell, indeed. "So that word which you do not like. Is there something wrong, then with the oldest of professions? From your point of view, that is."
Satana Hellstrom	"Nothing whatsoever. I'm just not a practitioner." Satana shrugs. "I respect professionals. I'm an enthusiastic amateur. I don't want to be put in their ranks." Something glints in her eyes. "I have a club, in fact, in New York. I don't advertise my ownership of it because it's not really what people associate with me. It's not a ... high class place. I give the professionals a place to ply their trade there; I see the human soul in its naked, honest, if degraded, glory." She also hunts there for the sinners she needs to feed the curse her father inflicted upon her, but that's probably impolitic to share. "But what annoys me also is that this oldest profession was being used as a ... what would you call it? A weapon. A flog. By someone who frequents those same professionals. More hypocrisy." Is that anger building in the woman's voice? And ... what is that weird undertone her voice is getting, like someone is speaking in time with her, but almost (not quite) a full octave lower? "That is pride and deceit. Two sins for the price of one. And while they're not my speciality, they were used against my speciality by a frequent partaker of it. Sins like this cannot go unpunished. The event was the first step in punishment. There is going to be more to come."
Lois Lane	The voice is a nice effect. Lois is almost starting to believe her. But her own feelings are not what matter. It's what she can prove. "So this place of yours is only home to the willing, then? There's no manipulation, trickery, or anything else to get these people to rent out their bodies?"     She maintains an even tone. She's gone through these questions recently. In Eastern Europe. But the full story is not published. Not yet, at least.     "You want to punish people who engage in human trafficking? You save the social faux paus and give me access. I know it's here. I know the tendrils of the rich stretch out across the globe. Disgusting, yes, but also arrogant. They think they are beyond the reach of those they enslave. They think they cannot be brought down. Satana, are you able to help me bring them to their knees? I have the beginning of that battle about to start, but to save a lot of innocent girls and boys a lot of horrible pain and fear, I will need help. I need a guide."
Satana Hellstrom	"Is anybody employed truly willing in this world? I guess some are. Most, however, are employed desire for food is a powerful motivator. The desire for shelter. The desire for companionship. All of which are eased by the presence of Satan's greatest invention: money." Satana lets Lois stew on that a moment before continuing. "None of those employed in my club, however, are there under any but the socially acceptable forms of coercion." She shrugs elaborately. "And I can't do anything about that form of coercion; it's too endemic to the point that people think it's necessary." She resettles on the bench again, a bit closer to Lois once more. "Lois, I am a profoundly selfish woman. Everything I do is for my own purpose. Carnal bliss, for example, primarily, though I indulge in a bit of gluttony, sloth, and greed as well." She leans in dangerously close to the reporter, staring straight into Lois' eyes. "So I can help you. I can introduce you to people who do any kind of vice you care to name. I can even put it on video for you; meetings done in places they think themselves immune from being overheard. But I need to know ... what are you willing to trade for this?" Her mouth forms that predatory smile again. "And would you be willing to sign a contract to that effect? One more binding than any contract you've ever seen." Her eyes open melodramatically and she makes her voice go spooky again with that octave trick. Probably something electronic, though ... with what she's wearing, WHERE has she concealed it!? "Would you be willing to sign away your soul in exchange for these helpless, innocent girls and boys?"
Lois Lane	"I am very much doing what I want to do, willingly," replies Lois calmly. The mention of money makes her laugh a bit. "You know, I think humanity had a bit of a hand in that, too. Sure, greed corrupts many things, but a medium of exchange isn't all bad, is it? I'd hate to try to barter my reporting skills for my next oil change."     The reporter listens to the sales pitch. She kind of figured something would be coming. While she's not entirely sure she buys into this whole hell and Satan business as Satana puts it, she is pretty sure she will not be tempting fate.     "Trade my soul for them? Nah. I'll just do it myself. Like I always do. It would have been interesting to learn more about you along the way, but I am not much a fan of contracts. Bad enough to deal with them for book deals, but to chase down a story? I'll try my luck on my own, and maybe my fiance can get involved. But he's from Kansas, and while he was a bit different initially, I'm pretty sure that he's similar to a lot of farmboys. Loving, honest, and just, well, the best guy out there. If that makes them alien, well, we could do with more of those invaders from the lands of corn and the best dang sunsets you ever will see."     She sighs softly. "Unfortunately, and I mean that, I have to get back. I hope the recording remains intact, though, it would be a pain to try and pull quotes from my memory. This old mare isn't what she used to be."     She stops her recording, puts the cap on her pen, and puts it all away. "I will keep an eye out, though, Satana. I am sure all my readers will be wondering what you might do next." While Lois is tempted to pull out her mother's rosary from her bag, she thinks that would be, well a bit disrespectful. Satana clearly did not like that particular diety much at all!
Satana Hellstrom	"Thank you for the chance to speak, Lois. I'm sure we'll see each other again. Who knows? Maybe I'll develop a conscience and help you along without payment." Her eyes move down, then up Lois' body. "Or with different payment." That slow wink is the most lascivious thing this side of Satana's garb. "You intrigue me. So little sin. So much ... force. That's not a common combination." Maybe intriguing this woman is a bad idea... "But please, do go on back to your work. It's nice that you enjoy it. But one parting thought: isn't it sad that you need a medium of exchange? In the beginning you just lived." Satana rises, then, and saunters off, with body motions seemingly calculated to attract the appropriately-gendered gaze as demonstrated by a passing jogger running full-on into an ornate lamp post for staring. Heedless of the commotion she makes her way deeper into the park. It's time to feed, after all, and Lois ... was not a suitable meal. Yet.