Owner	Pose
Lois Lane	Lois is busy. Which at the moment involves dictating to an intern while another is trying to show her layouts for some new social media endeavor that the Planet is just so sure will draw in young viewership.     "Red, blue, and yellow," Lois notes, rather deadpan. "Your idea for the art on this page is a Superman color scheme, dear? He's handsome and dashing but Clark is going to have questions. Can we... maybe not typecast my work too much? Besides, you know my first story isn't even on the man of steel."     She gets interrupted by a third intern, but that young woman is met with a warm smile.     "Zara! How are you? Oh, she's here, isn't she?" This gets a grin in response. "Well, lead her to studio three for me. And offer her a drink. Also do not say anything else to her. I have it on a pretty good source that she's an actual demon. I don't think you would want to date her."     Lois rises and says, not quite exasperated, "Purple and white. A bold purple. Crisp, clean. No more. I have to go to this interview."     She doesn't break stride, delivering the last two paragraphs of her article to the other intern in record time. "Just send it over to Perry. Oh, and..." Lois pauses. "Share the byline. You did good, kid."     Lois does not take the time to see the excited reaction of the intern. It's hard to get used to this... being generous and mentoring business. Why Perry has so many interns dangling over her is not a mystery, though. Everyone is so protective of her ever since she got back. Anyway... off to the studio!
Satana Hellstrom	By complete coincidence (and NOT because she was scrying, so get that thought right out of your head!) Satana's colour scheme in her ... let's call it revealing and leave it at that ... outfit is, in fact ... a bold purple with white accents. It wasn't this when she entered the building. It wasn't this when she sat in the waiting room and toyed with Jacob, the strapping new janitor whom she Sharon Stoned (from Basic Instinct) more than once. But suddenly she was clad in a purple catsuit, so tight as to leave little to the imagination, and so full of panel cutaways that it seems perpetually poised at the edge of a wardrobe malfunction. In bold purple (with just a hint of silver glitter). The goat fur trim at her wrists is a pure white, the pure white of the favoured kind of sacrificial goat. (People mistakenly believe black goats are used for demonic sacrice, but the death of symbolic innocence in white, combined with the way blood shows so nicely on their fur makes white goats preferable.) Similarly her feet are clad in calf-height boots in white sacrificial goat fur. Around her waist is a belt made of highly-polished large-loop platinum links, held together at the front by a bleached white skull used as a buckle that looks real, but can't be, seeing as it's not of any known animal (and certainly not human). As the intern approaches the door to deliver the summons, Satana strides in, walking in a way, with shoulders doing counterpoint to hip gyrations, that's guaranteed to draw eyes to her. "Lois, darling! I came as soon as I heard." Heard what? ... Oh. This bodes ... ill. Satana looks down at the intern that had been tasked to fetch her. "Zara was it?" she asks, staring into the hapless intern's eyes. "Oh my," she adds in a murmur. "Aren't you the exotic beauty?" Zara, for her part, is staring back, eyes wide, face slack, as the succubus weaves a little magic here, a little magic there, and ... bends down to gently kiss the upturned face of the girl. "You're sweet, but too innocent. I'll come for you when you're more experienced." She winks wickedly. "More than once probably." "So where shall I sit?" she asks Lois.
Ivory	Purple and white? SOMEONE needs a designer backup. A single fluffy feline ear flicks in a panel, then feet in sneakers walk along the cubicle hallways. A pair of steaming hot drinks in ceramic mugs in a pair of hands. The Visitor card dangling from left to right from the pocket of a jeans jacket. A speech bubble from above, interjecting to someone as the speaker passes them. "Purple? Hex 840484. Clearly you need a bold dark color to complement the white text, which still distinguishes itself from the black rest of the column." A shot from behind. A white haired person with cat ears wearing a jeans jacket with a white persian cat reading a newspaper. "Now, where did Lois go..."
Lois Lane	Lois rolls her eyes at the outfit. "Oh, I'm sure you did, Satana. Nice outfit. Blurring all that out will probably be an enjoyable exercise for the editing team." Her voice is a mix of bemused with a heavy touch of unaffected deadpan. She wonders if all this was done for her benefit.     When her intern is kissed, however, the reporter loses her sense of humor. "If you disrespect my people again I'll punt you down the staircase, through the lobby, and out into traffic! I do not enter your space and disrespect you. If you cannot treat my team appropriately I will bury this story and move on." Her right hand slips into her jacket pocket, where she is keeping holy water. She isn't sure she buys that whole silly thing, but it's better than nothing. The little silver knife in her other pocket is strictly a last resort. But Lois is glad she has it.     If she is assured that will not be repeated, she will point to a seat, "Sit there. And don't do the whole leg crossing, uncrossing thing, please. Some of us are trying to work here."
Satana Hellstrom	Satana takes the proffered seat, smiling a little smile if victory. "I'm terribly sorry, Lois," she says. "I had no idea that expressing appreciation for a beautiful assistant was somehow disrespectful. I shall endeavour to keep that in mind." She frowns a bit at the leg crossing bit. "I'm not wearing a microdress, Lois. This isn't Basic Instinct and I'm not Sharon Stone. I am fully clothed in complete accordance with the broadcast standards. I had lawyers check it for me to be certain." And ... she probably has got lawyers for this specifically. "So, will this be an affable interview, or will this be one of the Daily Planet trademark ambush interviews? I'm fine with either; I just like to know in advance. Are there any questions you would like answered before the interview itself starts?" Ivory catches the demon's eyes and attached curiosity. One of her whisker-like eyebrows rises as she regards the ... being. A quick hand motion and her eyes widen briefly before her usual insouciant air takes forward again. But the other eyebrow also goes up a tad. And the eyes rake up and down. "An interesting crew here..." she murmurs quietly to herself.
Ivory	Again, the ears flick at the sound of an angry Lois as Ivory pops the head around the corner and then follows into the studio as if it is perfectly normal to dodge your chaperonne while you have a Visitor badge and carry coffee. Passing Zara, a white eyebrow rises, then the coffe cups are put down on a side table, putting down a cloth's bag next to it. Satana? No long look is given to her, instead, the whitehead steps to the side of the assistant, talking to her... but the speech bubble is empty. A moment or two later, there's a poke with a finger, containing a little hint of claw. "Hey, I'm talking to you. Could you go and grab some milk from the Kitchen? The coffee is still too hot." And then, as if it's the most normal, Ivory turns to face Lois, gesturing to the cups and the bag. "If you don't want your partner to wear a dress as scandalous a that scene, why order a tartan then?" they muse, giving a short wink.
Lois Lane	"Appreciation does not include kissing or touching my people," replies Lois. She is referring to her notes. Not because she needs them, but because it is a habit. It also helps her stop contemplating pushing Satana down the stairs. That is rude, after all. But so, so satisfying.     "The type of interview? It will be the kind where I ask you questions and you answer them. I hope it is affable, but you have already done much to make me lose respect for you, Satana. Perhaps it is just your base nature and you are incapable of rising above it. I've worked with plenty of people who had issues like that. Junkies, for instance."     Lois frowns and turns to look at Zara, who (other than not being able to stop staring at Satana) seems to be coming to her wits. Slowly. When Zara realizes that Lois is looking at her, she blushes brightly and gets to work. First to get the milk as requested.     "Oh, hello Ivory! I didn't expect you to drop by. You care to stay and watch? This should be.." Lois looks at Satana. Eyes go down, back up. Not like Zara's do, though. This is more of an emotionless survey. "...Interesting."      When Zara returns, she can make sure Miss Lane's hair is presentable for the camera. There's a quick makeup check and then a look at Satana (a touch dreamy) and then one at Lois (who demonstrates severe displeasure with the slight raise of her eyebrow). With a nervous squeak, Zara darts out of the studio.     "If you broke my intern, Satana, you owe me a soul in return. And not of your gross ones. She's a great kid."     Lois waits a second and says, "Get the camera's rolling, the mics hot, then the crew is out." Denying Satana an extended audience is /always/ the best move.
Satana Hellstrom	"Oh, she's a darling innocent," Satana agrees affably. "And she's not in any way broken. I don't break people." Her eyes harden a bit. "I reveal broken people. There's a difference." She looks off in the direction Zara fled into with a look of almost ... hungry fondness. "She's not broken." Unspoken: yet. Then her eyes are back on Lois. "You do seem to be taking an inordinate number of precautions, Lois. I can help if you like. I can show you how to draw a proper protective circle with chalk and powdered salt, how to enhance it with appropriate glyphs. Put one of those around me and I shan't be able to touch anybody." Her eyes are glinting in the studio lights, but it's unclear if it's amusement or malice. (Por que no los dos?) Satana settles more comfortably into her chair. "Why do I feel that I have in some way mortally offended you, however? We were so friendly last time."
Ivory	"Chalk and salt? A B6 Pencil would do for a ban line, if you do it right. What kinda glyphs you need?" Ivory is bluffing, riiight? At least they eye Satana over twice, then smile to Lois, winking. "Interesting is good. That choice of accessories would get Lagerfeld skinned alive." Mixing up the coffee as they lean against the coffee table while workers are ushered out, there's a curious look on their face.
Lois Lane	With the crew out from under her feet, Lois is free to settle her attention on Satana. The reporter has a few directions she wants to go. None of them involve taking the bait or letting anyone else steer her focus.     "When we first met you said you were Satana, daughter of Satan. To refresh our viewers, you had recently caused quite the scandal at a charity event." She pauses a moment and says, "Linked below," before she goes on. "In the course of our first conversation, you revealed you had carnal relations with many of the attendees. You provided me with enough detail to do some digging of my own."     Lois is not a performer, precisely, but she is good at what she does. She gives that little pause for an audience to lean forward in their seats, eager to hear what she found. "I was able to corroborate considerable details. I could, for instance, place you where you claimed to be and place them there, as well. Shockingly they seemed... reluctant to shed light on those coincidences."     Of course, that is all just catching the group up on the facts of the situation. "This leads me to my first questions for you. First, for the record, are you a demon? And then, broadly speaking, what is your role on Earth and how long have you been at it?"
Satana Hellstrom	If Lois expected to catch Satana off-guard she's set to be badly disappointed. At the direct question, she actually perks up, a cheerful smile, and a look of respect on her face. "That was a very good opening question, Lois. Straight to the point, and phrased well for the audience. I particularly love the salaciousness of the background you established first. It is my respect for your integrity and directness that leads me to give you some advice before I answer: if you sincerely believe I'm a demon, you should probably phrase your questions more ... precisely. You leave too much wiggle room for an answer that is 100% accurate yet also 99.44% dishonest." Satana leans back in her chair, lounging with one hand in her lap, the other hanging off the chair back. "To answer the first question, no, I am not, in fact, a demon." That face. There's a certain malicious amusement there, as if she's doing this to specifically illustrate the nature of the dishonest answer. "And my role on Earth is the same as anybody's I would guess. To further my own goals, which in my case is amusement. I primarily do things that amuse me. I am a dilettante after all." "And really, Lois? Asking me my age? That's a bit gauche. A lady likes to keep that a secret, but if you must, I've been around for 31 years and have been pursuing my goals of having a sybarite's fun for ... call it 20 of those years, in some form or another."
Lois Lane	Lois records notes as always, which is to say, in a shorthand so short that nobody else would find any use from them. It is perhaps a strange thing to do with a camera rolling, but she does not give up habits so easily. Nor does she trust technology around creatures of magical origin.     "So you are not a demon. What are you, then? And where are you from?" Lois is considering her array of questions. She can sense that Satana is not here to give her helpful answers. No, this will be every bit as trying as interviewing Luthor.     "Also, I will correct for the record, I never asked your age. That would, after all, be rude." Lois grins at Satana. There's nothing that says the reporter cannot enjoy this verbal sparring.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana applauds lightly at the rephrased question. "Yes, that's the kind of precision you need when asking questions of those you suspect of Infernal affiliation. And because you are so clever, I'll answer with a more complete, equally accurate, but more helpful response." Satana tilts her head, eyes boring in on Lois' as she utters the following words. "I am the half-human daughter of Satan. So a half-demon, if you will." She gestures to the cameras. "And yes, I'm willing to answer that question honestly and baldly in front of your recording devices. I shan't even mess with what they've recorded. There's no need. Those who don't believe me will just assume I'm lying or delusional. Those who do believe me are generally of little consequence. They either will want to worship me, which I'm perfectly fine with, or they will want to destroy me, most of whom stand no chance. The few who stand a chance..." Satana's grin grows wider. "...are entertainment. Nothing is quite as thrilling as a duel arcane with someone who is actually skilled. You can learn from those who are good enough to challenge you!" She lets that hang there a moment to gauge the impact on Lois before continuing. "But I already told you where I'm from. I'm from Boston. It's where I'm born and where I still maintain the family mansion."
Lois Lane	Lois is just recording it. All of it. Beyond words, though, her notes include Satana's tone, her posture, her expression, everything she can manage in her bizarre shorthand. The answer is clearly interesting, if nothing else.     "When we last spoke you mentioned you would do something in exchange for my soul. Tell me two things, please. First, what good is a soul to you? Second, what happens to someone who gives you their soul?" She operates under the theory that Satana is who she says and for now, has not really pushed back in any way. It's far more interesting if what the daughter of Satan says is true, after all!
Ivory	Watching from the side, Ivory is carefully prancing at the edge of the camera, keeping eyes on the self proclaimed Demon princess on her claims of superiority, then givign a little shrug to Lois. They had no clue how true those claims were but... there were gods running amuck out there, so...
Satana Hellstrom	"Well there are many uses of souls. The cases where we negotiate trades for souls, that's simple recruitment. Most of the Lords of Hell are still miffed at being cast down and are constantly plotting and planning to storm the Gates of Heaven to take back what is rightfully theirs." The scorn in Satana's voice as she says this is paired with an eye rolling so hard it seems like her eyes might pop out of her skull and roll under a stool. "So basically every soul we steal from the Adversary..." She probably means God. "...is a soul the Adversary can't field against us." Satana shrugs. "Me, I'm a lover, not a fighter." A wicked grin spreads over her face, paired with a salacious glint in her eyes. "The best lover any mortal is likely to ever have, in fact." She winks at Lois' likely discomfort. "I'm not into this storming the Gates of Heaven nonsense. Me, I'm in it for myself. And souls make wickedly good servants once transformed into imps or fiends or that ilk. My entire Realm is filled with my servants; and they're happy to be there instead of, say, in Mephisto's Realm because I treat them better." She pauses a moment, considering. "I'm not claiming they're happy, mind you. I am a Hell Lord, after all, and with that title comes a job description. I punish sinners. I'm not as rigidly ardent about it as the Progenitors who were cast out and into Hell, but I do take my role seriously."
Lois Lane	Lois, in reporter role, rarely shows emotion. It's not professional. She also doesn't doubt what's presented to her. That's her audiences job.     "So ultimately, selling one's soul is a kind of indentured servitude or slavery in return for a favor?" Lois has to ensure understanding.     The mention of being lover gets the reporter to smirk ever so slightly. Satana is so, so very /that/, indeed. "I am not going to ask you to demonstrate your talents in love. It seems that you left enough of an impression to make people rather uneasy when I asked them about it. If they deny being with you, does that upset you? Is that blasphemous?"     The mention of sin is a curious point. Lois wants to dig into that, as well, but there are limits to how many questions one can put to a person--or a half-demon--at one time without being, well, rude.
Ivory	Ivory nods slowly, just... staying out of the camera area to make sure the whole thing could be used afterwards.
Satana Hellstrom	"Lying is a sin, Lois," Satana says smugly. "If people choose to lie about congress with me, that just guarantees where they go after their unfortunate but inevitable demise." The smug tone of voice is matched by a smug look as she continues. "But those who choose to disavow the mind-blowing, soul-wasting congress they had with me don't wind up in my Realm. They'll have to cope instead with my Father." She somehow capitalizes the spoken word there. "Or ridiculous thugs like Mephisto. Or even worse Hell Lords. They reap what they sow." Satana then sits back, tilts her head, and stares into the distance a bit. "It's ... more than servitude. Recall that our role in the order the Adversary created is one of punishment. Servitude is part of it, but not all of it. They are meant to suffer for eternity." Her eyes focus on Lois once again, and now the face loses all of its pleasant expression. It's hard. Severe. Like a schoolmistress from ... wait for it! ... Hell. "You understand, naturally, that we did not create Hell. We ... well, not me, I was born later, but the Progenitors ... were cast down into it. It predates our kind. I wonder, Lois, who made it? And why...?" No. She doesn't wonder.
Lois Lane	Lois tilts her head. "Isn't darn near everything a sin, Satana? And all people are sinners? For instance, at least half my audience-hmm, more like 67.8 percent of them-will be actively imagining 'congress' with you when this is broadcast. Is that truly evil, from some divine perspective? And what of those who claim to fight in the name of their deity of choice. Are they sinners or crusaders?"     She's getting more curious. She kind of hates it, but she is intrigued by Satana's perspective. Thank goodness, though, that Lois is very much straight and engaged. It prevents her curiousity from going to a very bad place.     "So who did create hell, Satana? And why are you forced to punish others?" So many questions to ask, so little time.
Ivory	Ivory snorts a bit, stifing their sound with a hand to not appear on the recording, the numbers somewhat understandable.
Satana Hellstrom	"Yes, indeed, almost everything is a sin, Lois. You should wonder ... why, no?" Of course one of Satana's main jobs as a demon on Earth is to plant little seeds of doubt to counter faith and cause more souls to fall. And it's a job she's good at, being far more personable than most Hell Lords. "As for if imagining congress with me, is it not stated in the Adversary's own words? 'But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.'" Satana pauses, a smile creeping over her features. "And adultery is definitely a sin. There's plenty of evidence for that in the same book." Then the smile grows wider. "You genuinely don't know who created Hell, Lois? Or do you just not wish to think of it because of what having a private torture chamber filled with billions of eternally suffering souls implies?"
Lois Lane	Lois's writing flows and she flips the page in her notepad yet again. Her eyes remain on Satana, though. "Well, those are sins in one book, but not a sin in others," replies the reporter. "Which calls to mind an important question. Who defines sin, exactly? And there is the matter of forgiveness, mercy, absolution. You know, all the usual things that people learn in Sunday school. Do those count?"     The reporter arches an eyebrow at the response about hell. "I may have an opinion, Satana, but you are my trusted expert." She doesn't even smirk when she says that! Surely that's an award-worthy performance in itself. "So tell me, who made hell, please? And what you believe the reason for its existence is."
Satana Hellstrom	"I come from the same traditions you follow, Lois," Satana says, a triumphant gleam in her eye. "You are a good Catholic girl, are you not? You came to this interview prepared, but so did I. Not to debate, but to ... phrase things in ways you'd follow. Surely as a good Catholic you're not going to fall into the trap of syncretism? Because it's clearly ludicrous, as you point out, when something is a sin in your tradition but perfectly fine in another. This is not something you can have both ways." Satana leans forward to add emphasis. (And seemingly instinctively presses her arms together before her to enhance certain attributes that are very photogenic. It doesn't appear to be conscious. Appear being the key word...) "The Adversary made Hell. The Adversary made a private torture chamber to hold billions upon billions of souls who did not measure up to his standards, despite having created them. It appears his creation was somewhat botched and he's sweeping that under the rug by tormenting them all for eternity away from those he's chosen to reward." The voice grows harder, and something unpleasant leaks into it as her face turns to stone (metaphorically). A second voice that is almost, but not quite, a full octave lower than her normal seductive contralto, starts to talk at the same time, leaving a very eerie impact. "Forgiveness? Mercy? Absolution? That only comes from the Adversary if you bend your knee to him, and then only if you do it the specific way he desires. He gave you and I free will, he gave us rules to obey which range from farcical to impossible, then said 'you're all doomed for all eternity unless you agree to be my slave ... and then you can sin all you like as long as you confess it contritely before you die, and THAT only if you do it in the way that butters me up.'" Satana closes her eyes and settles down, the stony anger leaving her voice. "I prefer being in Hell to that. My Father, my uncle Lucifer, and the rest of the Progenitors can never be forgiven. I could be, even with demonic blood. I choose not to because anything is better than submitting to a tyrant." And thus goes the rest of the interview, Satana carefully weaving in her beliefs as she answers, truthfully, but never wholly, knowing that even if Lois counters her...she's smart and willful after all...she's planting the seeds she needs. And never does she hint at the other use of souls; her personal use. Because lying is gauche, but lying by omission is fine...
Lois Lane	Lois' faith is rather difficult to penetrate. It is just a thing that she accepts and wrestles with on her own terms. "I am Catholic, as you say, but I would not cast myself as any kind of saint. My coworkers and viewers are quite aware of many of my flaws."     That's about all she has to say on that front. "You naturally do not like the Adversary, that much is clear." Being cast out has that affect, after all.     While the subjects of the interview are those that cause most to get angry and sometimes even violent, Lois is just here to learn about Satana. She is fascinated. Not like her poor intern, certainly, but at the end of the interview, with the cameras off, she can honestly say something, well, nice.     "You know, Satana, you are truly interesting. I've interviewed a lot of people who are interested in all things carnal, but most of them are dreadfully dull to me. It's a pity you cannot control your urges around Zara, though. It's hard for me to let that one slide." She doesn't want to /dislike/ Satana, is what she's saying. But, well, she is stuck on that very major problem.
Satana Hellstrom	"My urges, Lois? It was definitely Zara's urges involved. Did I appear out of control?" Satana looks into Lois' eyes and ... intense pressure starts to form. There's a certain strength of presence. Of personality. And, of course, of raw sexuality. But it's powerful, overwhelming, and prone to ideation. Lois, being strong-willed, modern, and independent can throw it off with effort. There's a good chance that most people couldn't. "I am what I am, Lois. I'm a demon. Well, half-demon. But I am fully a Hell Lord. With it comes certain attributes, and attributes most people find overpowering. She smiles a genuinely friendly smile, or so it seems. "You have strong will. That's good. It means you can resist **what I am**. Zara lacked that will. She saw me, she had her head filled with visions that were ... well, intriguing. Obsessively so for her, interesting for me. I would very much like to explore those visions with her at some point because she is quite adorable. But I didn't do it to harm her, or to upset you. I did it because, again, it's **what I am**. I'm a succubus. I am literally the embodiment of every mortal's sexual fantasies." With the cameras now off, Satana demonstrates, standing up to approach Lois, and with each step she transforms until ... Superman stands before her, but Superman in a kilt and little else. "I did say I researched you, Lois. Scrying is a wonderful tool. I know that you are fascinated with the alien." Beat. "Justly so. I often wonder myself what he'd be like." Beat. Satana shakes her head to clear a vision from her own mind, like she'd briefly inhabited her own happy space. "Carnality is what I am, and I'm very good at it." Her form switches back to what appears to be her default, only now she's dressed in leather that covers all of her skin from neck down, but for her hands, and yet somehow manages to be more seductive than her previous patchwork catsuit, so tight it is. "I can be, and often am, whatever my partner desires, and, here's the thing, I can't turn that off any more than you can turn off that lovely analytical mind you have. The part of you that's more enticing than ..." Her eyes languidly travel down Lois' length, and then back up. Very clearly seeing beneath the clothing in her mind. "... your very enticing form."
Lois Lane	Lois is strong willed. Just strong enough to handle Satana's presence. Maybe by only a little, but it is enough. The problem is that she is enjoying the conversation. As Satana makes so very clear, the guard can never, ever come down, or the plunge will be very sudden and very dangerous. Perhaps for both of them.     "So what you are telling me is that Zara wanted you, and that you only acted on her desires?" Lois is not interviewing, but really, when can her curiousity ever stop? "But if you spent time with her, would it not destroy her? Steal her soul? Drag her into some kind of hell or other?"     And then there is that demo. Lois' eyebrows shoot up. Damn, she may have to get Clark a kilt... So yes, that shape has an affect. But it just makes her want to drag Clark into an office, put the blinds down, and go for a whole other kind of prize.     "Oh my," is what Lois manages to say when Satana finally returns to normal. "So you can really become anything, can't you? And you cannot help it." And then Satana's eyes move over her. Lois is not terribly comfortable having the woman leer so openly at her. It makes her wonder over her underwear choices for the day. As if that would matter!     "Wait. Wait a moment." Lois tilts her head. "You are attracted to me, aren't you? And you are attracted to Zara, too." She has a point. "You slept with those losers at the party, back in the past. What attracts you to people, Satana? Isn't stooping to a certain level, well, demeaning to you as a woman?"
Satana Hellstrom	"I am most definitely attracted to you, Lois," Satana purrs, stepping just a hint inside her comfortable personal space, and making eye contact again. And those eyes. Not only are they on a face that's clearly aroused, there's little pinpricks of flame in her pupils. "And as I said, not just for the form, as ... how shall I put this politely? ... captivating as it is, but for the mind beneath it. That mind makes my nipples harden." The arousal gets a bit of amusement as well. She's firing for effect now. "And Zara? She's cute. So earnest. So eager to please. That is a valuable trait in a sexual partner. A trait I'd love to explore in depth for a protracted session. And her surprising desire for, well, my default self-image is also of interest to me. She didn't seem to be the type, given her boyfriend." Satana steps back then, easing the pressure. "Not all my carnal activities are, however, for my own pleasure. Some of them are for, well, collecting more souls than the Adversary. The losers, as you so aptly describe them, are 'useful idiots'. There's some appeal to letting them think they're winning over me when in reality they're doing what I want, but they're not really satisfying." Unless she's hungry. Then they're very satisfying. Let's not go there, Satana. Lois doesn't have to know about that curse. A light (this time not flame!) lights up her face. "Think of it this way. Sex workers--prostitutes and pornographic actresses, say--have sex professionally. But most of them also have lovers in the genuine sense of the term. One is their job; it pays the bills. The other is for love. I'm not entirely different than they are. Except that I don't feel love, naturally." The final sentence spoken sarcastically, as if sending a subtle message.
Lois Lane	Lois listens to all of that. Satana's very... descriptive state of interest in her mind and body manages to finally crack a bit of a blush. It's hard to handle that pressure for so long, after all.     "Huh, Zara has a boyfriend?" Lois seems surprised. "No way that'll last. She wants to follow in my footsteps. He'll never make it." Not that she wishes that upon the girl, it's just how it is.     When listening to the rest, though, something unexpected happens. Lois gets the professional side, and nods along. It's all pretty logical and the comparison with sex workers checks out. It's when not feeling love is mentionned that it gets interesting. Lois's eyes show sadness, and empathy.     "Wow, I... you are telling the truth, aren't you? So what I feel when I see Clark every day, you can never get that?"
Satana Hellstrom	"I felt love once," Satana says in what seems an unguarded moment, her eyes distant and voice low. Then she hardens and that hint of sardonic detachment returns, infusing her being once more. "It went badly. Because, again, it's what I am." She takes a breath, and again seems to be performing for an invisible audience, the way she carries herself and causes the leather to creak at the sudden additional pressure at the already strained chest. "I could get that. But what happens afterward is ..." And now something rare shows up in her face, though wiped quickly away by the sardonicism. Pain. "... Let's just say that anybody who doesn't meet my father's expectation in that regard is not going to fare well and leave it at that." Satana starts pacing. "Make no mistake, Lois. If you take your definition of evil to be extreme selfishness, I am evil. I revel in it. I exist for me and me alone." She turns her head to face Lois. "But I am only malicious to sinners. And then only to the worst; as you so astutely observed everybody is a sinner, after all. I quite enjoy the little sinners, provided they don't try to pretend they're not. I can't abide hypocrisy. Confess. Tell me that you have lust for me, for example. Not only will I not seek to punish for this, I'll be quite happy about it and share that lust with you in ways that are unforgettable. As long as you bend your knee to the Adversary in time you shan't wind up in my world. No, to attract malice from me you must go beyond merely sinning. It must be a very strong mortal sin, or it must be hypocritical and judgemental, because, again in the words of the Adversary, 'Judge not lest you be judged.'" They do say that the Devil knows the scriptures well...
Lois Lane	Lois is glad that cameras aren't rolling. "I won't tell anyone," she says gently. "About what you've shared with me. It is perhaps my greatest failing, or greatest gift. I live to find the truth, to share it, but I do not enjoy bringing low those who are vulnerable. Only the arrogant and evil find themselves as my targets."     The reporter considers Satana for a time. "You are more complex. I had a feeling you might be. If there is anything special about me, it is that sense that there is more to the story than their first appears. Now that we come to it, though, what makes you so fascinating is not something I would publish. It's too personal."     And so Lois is here, feeling sympathy for the devil. If she is allowed, her arms will wrap around Satana in an embrace that is gentle, and friendly. Truly warm. "I am sorry, Satana." She can't believe she's saying it. "And for what it's worth, I forgive you for any so-called sins you have commited against me."
Satana Hellstrom	The reaction to the hug would be comical were it anybody but a literal (albeit self-proclaimed) Hell Lord: confusion tinged with a hint of fear. Unused to hugs that aren't salicious, Satana's body instinctively moulds itself to Lois', but her arms? She can't seem to find a place to put them, instead awkwardly changing their location as she avoids where she'd usually put them. (That usual location hinted at when their first motion is downward and stops at the small of the back before jerking away from Lois like she's on fire.) Finally she finds a safe space for them, leaving a very mixed message in the pressed-up-against body and the very chaste and gentle hug around the middle of Lois' upper back. "Thank you," she says in a quiet murmur as she relaxes. Then the vulnerability is once again suppressed. "But you do make a small error of judgement. I am quite arrogant. And evil. And physical contact with you is definitely confirming what I believed of your form. It is quite alluring and will be in my dreams. If you ever want to walk the other side of the fence..." The rest of the offer is unspoken, but Lois can feel the grin forming on Satana's face, currently outside her field of vision.
Lois Lane	Lois is getting used to Satana, she realizes. It's her life. She's met so many kinds of people. Sometimes she can see their hearts. Even if they don't want her to.     "You're welcome, and well, I'm pretty arrogant, too," Lois replies. "I applied for the Pulitzer and I fully expect to win. I'm not sure about all this evil business, and honey, you are not the first one to fantasize over me. Hell only knows why. I'm not exactly a super model and at this point my body's warranty is expiring fast. But if you enjoy thinking about it, who am I to deny you the fun? I bet there are some websites that have me in various states of partial dress. People find it amusing to take pictures of me at the beach."     She grins at last and playfully says, "I'll keep that offer in mind. You know, if the whole happy wife thing doesn't pan out. But... I have taken up enough of your time." A hesitation for a moment. "I'll walk you out and get you a cab. I imagine you know how to reach me. If you ever want to talk again. And I mean just talk, not all this production stuff."
Satana Hellstrom	"It's very kind of you to offer, Lois," Satana says, "but where I go I don't need ...cabs." Satana winks and steps back from Lois, making a few arcane gestures and letting a few syllables of the spine-chilling Infernal tongue spill from her lips. She vanishes in a cloud of roiling black smoke that itself vanishes shortly afterward, leaving behind only the scent of brimstone, arousal, and ... Hubba Bubba gum, original flavour? The 1992 formulation? That's definitely not normal.
Lois Lane	Lois sighs softly. As soon as Satana vanishes, the door is opened and in walks the crew and, of course, Zara. Lois directs a most knowing grin her way. "Sorry, kiddo, but that one is way, way out of your league."     Granted, Satana would give Zara an education unlike any most women would ever iagine, but still. That fire is a bit too dangerous for her protege to play with.     "Get the record to my desktop. I want to review it. We'll edit it together and get it in front of Perry before the day ends." This timeline produces a wince or two, but not from Zara. The kid has too much fire. "Let's move, people! I am going to write up an article to tie to this and I expect the video to hit streams in time for people to talk about it over dinner!" It's a joke except it's sadly so very true. That she sounds just like Perry right now doesn't occur to her.