16451/Hey, Don't I Know You From...

Hey, Don't I Know You From...
Date of Scene:	30 November 2023
Location:	Hell's Kitchen
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Jennifer Kale, Daimon Hellstrom

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Jennifer Kale has posed:
It has been a long shift at Sugardaddy's for Jennifer, full of weird little accidents and mishaps that have her eager to get hom so she can check the portents to see what sort of shitstorm is brewing now.

Still, a girl's gotta eat, she she also wants to stop by the Royal Dragon to grab her to-go order before she starts casting bones or calling down favors from otherworldly beings. Dealing with the dead, the not-dead, or the maybe-dead is never fun on an empty stomach!

SJennifer is heading down the street towards the restaurant when she notices street lights and neon signs starting to flicker and buzz, making her frown and glance around. Something is coming.. something not entirely human... in an instant, her street clothes are rplaced by her signature outfit, black leather-like fabric (with gator-like patterning) accessorized by silver looking 'bikini' and headpiece. Her eyes glow red even as her hand conjures up a light blue ball of mystical energy.

"Who's there? Look, if you think you're getting your hands on that relic, think again. It's mine, fair and square, and all the ninjas in the world aren't gonna get it for ya."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Something wicked this way comes. Where Jennifer might have been expecting a monster or some twisted mockery of the human form, the figure that approaches is very much human-looking. Daimon Hellstrom, the Son of Satan, wears a black three-piece suit, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, no tie. His hands are in his pockets, and he seems unafraid of Jennifer as he paces toward her.

"Oh, relax," the man says. He doesn't roll his eyes, but the desire to do so can be heard in his voice. "Nice armor. I can see why you don't wear it at the club, though. All that heavy metal would really scuff up the dance floor." Daimon gives Jennifer a crooked half-smile. "Though... bravo on the performance tonight. It made for some... fun viewing. If I were you, though, I'd microwave all those bills that got slipped into your thong. Who knows what kind of germs are on those things? Don't want to get shingles." By the time he finishes speaking, he's within reach of Jennifer, though he keeps his hands in his pockets.

Jennifer Kale has posed:
Jennifer absolutely does not relax. At least, not until she can get a good look at him. Letting out a sigh, she snuffs out the ball in her hand and calls back her street clothes, "Hellstrom. Warn a girl next time, huh? Been dodgin' a corruption demon lately."

She hikes the pack with her 'work clothes' up on her shoulder and lets out a lugh, "Ya came t' th' sho an' didn't tip? Man, an' I thought th' angels were th' stingy ones." Hooking a thumb towards the flickering sign of the Royal Dragon, she offers, "I gotta grab my takeout before they close. You're welcome t' join if ya want." TUrning, she glances back over her shoulder and grins, "An' thanks. I like t' think I'm a decent dancer."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
"If I warned you, it wouldn't be any fun," Daimon says, with a completely matter-of-fact air. Before Jennifer's armor disappears, he leans forward, to look straight into her metal breastplate and check his hair. He smooths it a bit with his hands, and stands up straight by the time her regular clothes are back.

"I was saving my cash for the champagne room, but you ended up picking some other mark for that," Daimon says. Whether or not he's telling the truth probably doesn't matter. He puts his hands back into his pockets, walking alongside Jennifer. "Decent, sure. Ecdysiasts have a long magical tradition. I think if you want to really harness that power, you're going to have to work a little harder at whipping up all of the... orgone energy in the room, getting it focused. And maybe pick a better song."

Jennifer Kale has posed:
"Uh huh... pretty sure it would be, ya don't lack in means t' get your jollies," Jennifer arches a brow at his using her outfit to check his hair, shaking her head with a small chuckle. Tucking one hand into a pocket, she starts down the sidewalk again, letting him set his own pace.

"Uh huh.. ya know that we don't pick who goes in there, that's somethin' ya pay for up front," her tone is wry and a touch dry as she keeps on walking. Glancing up at him, she gives a small snort, "Why th' Hell would I waste perfectly good magic on a room full of drunk, horny guys? Ain't no magic needed there." Pausing at the door of the restaurant, she opens the door and ushers him through, then steps in herself so she can step up to the hostess stand, letting them know she's picking up a to-go order. Turning back to Daimon, she sizes him up, 'Spose this means yer comin' home with me? Pretty sure I could ward ya out, but that would be a fight I ain't really up for. Just make sure ya clean up after yourself, I need t' be able t' get my deposit back on th' apartment at end of lease."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon's tone is calm and casual regardless of the topic. "You're thinking about it backwards, Kale. What you're proposing is /you/ actively using magic /on/ a room full of drunk, horny men. And I agree, you and your bikini waxer seem to have things well in hand there, no magic needed."

The Son of Satan follows Jennifer into the restaurant. "What I'm talking about is taking that room full of drunk, horny men and /utilizing/ them. Getting your tits out to 'Pour Some Sugar on Me' is fine for paying the bills, I'm sure. But you could be /using/ their desire to supercharge your own rituals. I could put you in touch with some succubi I know." It seems to go without saying that he's heading home with her, but he doesn't comment on her security deposit.

Jennifer Kale has posed:
Taking the bag with the takeout in it, Jennifer smiles at the hostess and thanks her, dropping a couple dollar bills into the 'tip please' jar. Turning back to Daimon, she tils her head to indicate he should follow. Heading back out onto the street, she glances over her shoulder at him, "Not sure I want to supercharge a summonin' with a bunch of frustrated sexual energy, Hellstrom. Besides, I don't do a whole lotta rituals, most of my magic is cast on th' go."

Chucklings, she shakes her head, "No thanks. Can't trust those bitches to not rat me out to th' big nasty demons that want me dead." Jennifer goes down another two blocks, takes a right, half a block, and they're in front of an older building, nothing great from the looks of it, but solid, and there's a small yard for the ground floor apartments, and balconies for the upper floors. Taking out her keys, she gets them through the front doors before leading him to the studio apartment at the back. Unlocking the door, she flips on the light and motions him through, following after and offering, "Make yerself at home. Did ya want any of the food?"

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon can only shrug his shoulders. "As you wish," he says, not about to press the point further on harnessing strip club energies. He walks alongside her, and when she leads him into the studio apartment, he looks around like he's surveying an ancient tomb.

"No, the food's all you," he says, as he walks around, inspecting the place. It's pretty rude of him, but that's also pretty par for the course with Daimon. "I know rent in this city is ridiculous, Kale, but..."

Jennifer Kale has posed:
"But what? This here runs me 2500 a month, not countin' utilities. Just how much ya think I'm pullin' in at a strip club?" Jennifer sets the food on the counter, then turns to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, then taking out a second since she wasn't raised to be rude. Coming back out to the living/dining/bedroom area, she holds out the extra water bottle to him before dropping down onto the small sofa. "I ain't got a trust fund or family estate I can easily get t'. This is what I got. Don't like it, ya can always go back t' your mansion."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon lets out a dry chuckle as he stops his surveying. He leans against the dresser, hands in pockets, to face Jennifer. One of those hands emerges to accept the water bottle when it's offered. "You could be fleecing wealthy old biddies with tarot and reiki crystals," he says. "You'd make a killing. Though if you ever /do/ need a place to stay, Kale, my mansion /does/ have quite a bit of room, now that you mention it."

Daimon opens the water bottle and has a drink. "Though it's a bit of a commute, if you don't teleport."

Jennifer Kale has posed:
"Yeaaaaaaaaaaah... th' last person I knew that was fleecin' ol' biddies with tarot an' reiki crystals ended up with her throat cut by ninjas wieldin' magic weapons sent by a corruption demon that wanted the Atlantean relic she was holdin' for me." Jennifer chuckles and shakes her head, "I like keepin' a low profile. I ain't an immortal half-demon, can't afford t' be trumpetin' about where I live."

Pausing, she looks at him for a long moment, one brow lifting up, "Oh, I teleport just fine, just not with a range that lets me get all th' way home easily. Dependin' on where yours is... could make it."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
"Fire Lake, Massachusetts," Daimon says. "About two hundred and thirty miles, give or take... /that/ way." The Son of Satan points with one finger, and he is indeed correctly aiming to the northeast of their position.

"Room and board are free, if you're interested. I might need a favor now and then, or a hand dealing with one of the more troublesome artifacts." Daimon flashes his crooked smile. "And I'd just be happy to have interesting company that can hold a conversation. I might be an immortal half-demon, but even /I/ can get /bored/ sometimes."

Jennifer Kale has posed:
"Yeah, I could make that port... an' that *would* save me a lot of cash..." Jennifer watches him as she thinks it over, sipping on her water. "I'd have t' bring th' books an' relics I've collected up.. not that I think you'd complain bout that, but just t' give a heads up..."

She looks around the room again, then gives a slow nod, "I think that could work. Ain't really used t' bein' alone myself... it's been strange bein' th' only one here." Pushing up to her feet, she smiles at him, "Alright. You got yourself a deal. We can try it out, see if it works. If not, no harm no foul. Yeah?"

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon leans forward from the dresser to offer out his hand for a shake. "It's a deal, then. If you find Fire Lake too quaint and boring, you're free to run screaming back to Hell's Kitchen. As for the books and relics, that shouldn't be a problem, though we might have to do some coordinating to make sure any artifacts that... wouldn't get along with one another are kept far enough apart on the grounds." Daimon waves his water bottle as if to yada-yada that part.

"I think you'll have fun, though. And if you're worried about ninjas and corruption demons..." Daimon lifts his brows. "Let them /try/ to breach my home. It would go very, very poorly for them."

Jennifer Kale has posed:
Taking his hand, she gives it a shake, "Well, I'm already paid up through end of December anyways. So if anythin' don't work out before then, I'll just come back here. Like I said, no harm no foul. But if it works out, I wouldn't mind havin' another person around t' talk to." Pausing, she chuckles, then nods, "Yeah, most of mine's Atlantean in nature, so I'm pretty sure there's gonna be things that won't get along with some of yours."

Chuckling, she nods, "Good point. Don't know too many that would be dumb enough to try'n break into a Hellstrom stronghold. Kinda pity 'em if they are."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon laughs at that. "Oh, let's not waste valuable pity," he says. "Save that for the customers who can't afford to make it rain for you." He has a drink of his water.

"Though I'll warn you... winter is still winter up there." He spreads his hands, like he's mock-apologizing. "No year-round tanning weather like you'd get in Florida. Not without magicking up some UV rays for yourself, anyway."

Jennifer Kale has posed:
"You make a good point. Alright, no pity for dumb demons," Jennifer gives a laugh of her own and shakes her head. "I don't pity those men either, I just make sure they get stuck with someone else."

Laughing again, she lifts a brow at him, "What, no eternal summer for you? Naw, it's alright. I don't *like* th' cold here, but since I'm choosin' t' stay, I can't really complain, either." Finishing off her water, she tosses it into a nearby trashcan and smiles at him, "Tradeoffs. I deal with th' winter so I can be nearer th' threats I need t' deal with."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
"Spend enough time in Hell, and even the Everglades in August will feel downright chilly," Daimon teases. "But I agree with your pragmatic way of seeing things. That's the way with all of us mystic sorts, isn't it? We don't necessarily /choose/ where we dwell, so much as our destinies lead us to those places."

Daimon walks over to the trash can to place his own empty bottle in it. He pauses, reaches into his suit jacket, and removes a number of folded-up hundreds. He sets them down on the sofa next to Jennifer. "Advance payment, by the way. For my private dance, next time I visit the club."

Jennifer Kale has posed:
"GOt me there," she chuckles and gives a small nod. Leaning back, she shrugs, "I mean, I could whine'n'moan 'bout it, an' sometimes if I run into another Southerner, we like t' bitch 'bout th' cold... but ain't gonna change anythin'. I need t' be here, means I gotta put up with th' weather."

GLancing down at the bills, Jennifer looks back to him, and grins, "Alright. I'll even let ya pick th' music. I'm curious what sorta music ya think's good for a lapdance."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon's grin always has a crooked edge to it. Something about his half-demon nature, probably. "Oh, that's easy," he says. "Prince, every time."

Daimon starts moving toward the door. "It was good seeing you, Kale. Get packed up, and I'll be back tomorrow to help you move." Daimon draws sigils and runes in the air in front of Jennifer's door, and when he opens it... the view outside is of a corridor in what must be Daimon's mansion. "I've got my own preparations to handle. 'Til then." Daimon shuts the door after him... and the next time Jennifer opens it, it will just open back up to the view she expects, like nothing ever happened.