Owner	Pose
Daimon Hellstrom	"Home again, home again, la-te-da." notes Daimon as he walks through the rear door of his long missed home. Weeks. No, months. It's been a while. In fact, the last adventure he had found him in 1944 unearthing ancient ruins, fighting Nazis, and going against Anubus itself. And then there was Jennifer Kale who helped out so much. In all the right and very appropriate ways. But now, after having spent some time abroad researching the ruin in present day, Daimon has returned to casa-de-Hellstrom - his family home in the lovely state of Massachusetts. That's mass-a-chu-sits. Or so some would suggest. Oh, and PS, his chariot is out back with the three demon horse steeds - the thing he rode in on. And presently, the Son of Satan wears a lovely three piece suit of charcoal gray with very thin red hash stripes with his lapel pen being that of the golden pentagram, inverted of course.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana's made herself at home in her brother's absence. She has a tendency to do that, going where she's uninvited and making things her own. She's in his study when he returns, dressed in her usual black leather, tight pants and a criss-cross top, her red hair spilling down over her shoulders, her arms inked from shoulder to wrist in arcane and frankly obscene tattoos. When he arrives, he'll hear her voice call out to him, even though she doesn't raise her voice, magicks guiding her words to his ear, "Brother, brother, welcome home. You really should get a better lock. But then, I have as much right to be here as you, don't I?"
Daimon Hellstrom	His moment of delight is sundered as he hears his sister's mystical voice. Though fleeting, it quickly returns as he realizes that they're not presently fighting - or are they? He glances and makes his way around to the origin of the voice. When his eyes do finally land upon the form of his sister he is smiling the smile of 'what's it gonna cost him?'. He offers and upbeat tone of greeting as he closes the distance for a hug with open arms, "Sister, it's been so long. To whom, or what, do I owe this pleasure?"
Satana Hellstrom	Satana smiles broadly, "Is it a pleasure, Daimon? I'm not so sure of that. You don't look precisely pleased as punch," she says, a teasing note in her voice. "I just thought I'd check in on my closest relative. Is that a sin? If it were, all the more reason. I do enjoy a proper bit of sinning," she says.
Daimon Hellstrom	Breaking away, of course he'll move toward the bar while commenting, "It's not a sin, yet. Though I'm sure there will be a smattering of this's and that's on the road ahead." He moves behind the bar and pulls tumblers and the scotch. Pouring it straight into each glass he'll add to the comment section, "Though, it's always wonderful to see you in whatever state you're in. But there's always the matter of the other shoe." He references the moment that the other shoe will drop and let the world - or him in particular - know what she's up to.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana lifts a foot in the air where her legs are crossed, showing off her stiletto-heeled black leather boots, "I think my shoes are rather fabulous, both of them," she says playfully, "Nothing particularly sinister. Just bored. Father's been quiet of late and some of my favorite playthings have either begun to grow tiresome or...well, sometimes toys break," she says. "And I was curious. You, too, have been awfully quiet of late. What sort of mischief have you been getting into?"
Daimon Hellstrom	"Mischief? Very little. Sadly." He takes both half filled glasses and moves to close the distance where he might offer her the other with his left hand. He continues, "I've been traveling. Seeing the world for what it is - broken. Assessing the pieces and wondering if they could be put back together again. Alas, not even the kings horses and kings men could do it."
Satana Hellstrom	Satana smiles thinly, "Relying on men never leads to anything good, I've found. You are the weaker of the sexes, kings and pawns alike," she says. "I do like a bit of travel, now and again, but I always insist on first class and it's so hard to find in certain parts of this dreary mudball. Did you bring back any souvenirs? Maybe a present for your darling, neglected baby sister?
Daimon Hellstrom	"I may have found something. A key." he intones and then drinks some of the scotch from his glass. He pulls out the key as he does and reveals the mystical and very archaic nature of it. It's nothing more than a standard wrought iron key from the middle ages. Heavy, large, and clearly has a hint of magic about its form. The magical is dimensional in nature and has the taint of something from Belasco's former realm. There are no symbols clearly present, it would take a spell to reveal them, and they would help lead the reader to the destination. He waves it around a bit while he continues, "I've no idea to what or wear it goes. But I'll get around to finding out. I figure Kale will be of significant help in this department."
Satana Hellstrom	Satana pushes up from her seat and walks over to take a better look at it. She also manages to slip behind the bar, getting out a rather expensive bottle of red wine and preparing herself a goblet. "Typical man, always in search of the right keyhole," she teases. "Still, it's a curious thing. Is Kale the name of your latest mortal pet? Does this one dress like any sort of animal?"
Daimon Hellstrom	"Well, if you dress your pets in chainmail bikinis, then yes. Otherwise, she's a mystic. Quite powerful one at that. Atlantean magic. A direct tie to Zhered-Na, in fact." Daimon notes in a somewhat delighted tone. He may be purposely flaunting the contact with a magic user just to make Satana jealous. Since Satana is the more magical of the siblings and Daimon wouldn't be able to cast the spell on his own to reveal the key's inner workings and secrets.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana smiles, "I look far too good in a chainmail bikini to waste it on a pet. Atlantean, eh? I suppose that's alright, if you don't mind the smell of fish," she says with a little bit of a sniff. "I don't have to envy anyone with regards to my heritage, darling, as you well know."
Daimon Hellstrom	He smiles and drinks the rest of his scotch. He places the glass on the bar and will push the key back into his jacket pocket, right hand front. "You still clean to father's name like it means something in this world. But then again, you do tend to follow father's lead. You say he's been quiet of late. But you have his ear, and his whispers. What is he planning next?"
Satana Hellstrom	Satana laughs softly as she resumes her seat, "If he's so insignificant, dear brother, why should you care what he's plotting? In truth, I haven't been checking in as much of late, bad girl that I am. I have grown inattentive, perhaps. And just because you're ashamed of your legacy doesn't mean I have to be. You cannot attempt to pass off an obscure Atlantean as a powerful pedigree and yet scoff at the name of the Devil Himself."
Daimon Hellstrom	"Just another Hell-Lord. Another meddling annoyance that creates more trouble and trades power and influence over others for his own personal gain at the expense of those that he takes advantage of. I hold far more in higher regard than the one who planted his seed in our mother's tainted womb." is remarked by Daimon in an annoyed tone. He clearly doesn't like their father. Never has. Nor does he like any who would taint/corrupt or otherwise take advantage or harm innocents.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana tsks, "Bitter as black coffee, as usual. I suppose Daddy did always give me all the sugar," she smirks. "I know you don't really believe that, entirely, but whatever you need to tell yourself, Daimon." Satana, of course, doesn't have anything close to her brother's hang-ups or moral compass. She tends to do as she pleases, without much regard for good or evil. "I could probably help you out with that key, if your Atlantean whore can't do her part."
Daimon Hellstrom	He gives it brief thought and then states, "Perhaps later." Then he offers a second subject to discuss, "Will you be staying long?" Allowing them to move from the previous topics to her more recent plans or goals.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana traces a black nail along the rim of her goblet, "Perhaps. If you don't mind a bit of company," she says with a sparkle in her eyes. "I wouldn't want to crowd you, though. Nor would I wish to make this Kale jealous. Humans do adore being the center of attention," she says. As if she didn't.
Daimon Hellstrom	A smirk crosses his lips and Daimon offers a gentle shake of his head. "It would be a delight to have you around. If anything, to offer an opposing opinion and the adventures that come with. Feel free to stay as long as you like. But now... if you would excuse me. I need to put this away for safe keeping." And he pats his jacket pocket above the key.
Satana Hellstrom	Satana grins, "Oh, by all means, do as you please, dear brother. I know my way around the place. And yes, I do enjoy being the devil on your shoulder now and again. I'd hate for you to start forgetting your roots," she says.
Daimon Hellstrom	Stepping from the room, "Speaking of roots. Looks like yours needs attending." Of course he's only teasing as red is her natural color. Or perhaps he's implying that she needs a new color. He disappears down the hallway.