16705/Joining Hell

Joining Hell
Date of Scene:	29 December 2023
Location:	Master Bedroom - Third Floor - Hellstrom Manor
Synopsis:	Nico finds Daimon and becomes his apprentice!
Cast of Characters:	Daimon Hellstrom, Nico Minoru

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Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
When last we encountered Nico Minoru, she was using the Staff of One to teleport herself exactly one mile south of Daimon Hellstrom's estate. Unfortunately, that's where a lake is. Even more unfortunately, it's December, in New England.

By the time Nico swam to shore, Daimon was standing there, deeply amused. "Well, you didn't fuck up as badly as I thought you might."

After a brisk walk across the grounds, Daimon leads Nico into one of the studies, where a fire is already going in the fireplace. "Go, sit by the fire, and get out of your wet clothes before you catch pneumonia. I'll find you something to wear. And before you even suggest it, don't waste blood magic on things like 'drying off.'"

Nico Minoru has posed:
Oh shit! Ending up in the middle of a frozen lake was /not/ what she expected, but at least, it worked! Note to self: Teleporting with exact specificity as a spell is not a good thing to do when you dont know the area.

With her teeth chattering as she ends up on the shore, she nosewrinkles and peers at Daimon and nods. "Holy shit, it's cold." Then she glances around furtively. Can you say holy around demonspawn?

After that, she just goes quiet and ends up in the mansion where it's much much warmer. Her teeth still chitter as she nods and starts taking off her dress, her boots, and any underwear in a loud thump. Wet clothes are heavy and all that.

THat's when she immediately crouches by the fire, putting out her hands to warm them up as she lets out a soft sigh, shivering every now and then.

"Th-thank you."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon steps out for a moment. When he returns, he's got a big fluffy black towel that he drapes around Nico's shoulders. He doesn't seem to care that the girl is naked. As much of a skeezy weirdo as he is, he's at least not lecherous.

He also sets down a mug of hot coffee next to her. Strong, dark roast, black, no cream or sugar. Presumably how /he/ drinks it.

"I assume I don't need to tell you the lesson that you should have learned from that." He lays out next to Nico a long-sleeved henley shirt -- sized for Daimon, but on Nico's frame it might as well be a rustic-themed mini-dress.

Nico Minoru has posed:
It seems that Daimon and Nico share a similar aesthetic. Black. Much Darkness. So Black.

So when the towel is wrapped around her shoulders, she bows her head in thanks as she starts drying herself, though trying to dry her long, thick black locks takes a bit more effort.

Once the towel is damp instead of her, she looks for a place to hang it near the fire so it can dry. That's when she notices the henley and slips it on though she looks uncertain. It's far too big for her, but she's at least thankful for some covering.

"That scrying spells are a must when deciding to teleport. At least it was a lake, and not the wall of another house."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon also enjoys red, for flavor.

"At least you're in Massachusetts, and my estate isn't on a different dimensional plane entirely," Daimon adds. "Which is where you are, by the way. Fire Lake, Massachusetts." Daimon has his own mug of coffee, and sips from it.

"That's where a lot of would-be sorcerers end up meeting their horrible ends -- or fates worse than. They know what they want to achieve. They just have no idea what's waiting for them when they get it." He bounces his eyebrows once, for emphasis. "So. You said that you practice blood magic. Your own blood?"

Nico Minoru has posed:
As she settles on the floor in front of the fireplace, she picks up the offered mug of coffee and takes a sip. It's not how she takes it, but she needs the bitterness to wake her up!

"I think I just wanted to show off." she admits ruefully, with a soft chuckle as she runs her fingers through her damp hair. At the question, she nods, "We've been witches for generations. Somehow, when they emigrated to the US, the omnyouji traditions of Japan got replaced with... Salem type witch-foo." And it seems like she's unsure about that personally. Blame Agatha Harkness knowing her great(x?)gramms.

"Sacrifice. Magic requires a sacrifice and pain." she says firmly. "That's the price we pay, and so yeah, it's my blood."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon nods. He's staring at Nico rather intently. His eyes are an unnatural shade of red, and his expression is one of thoughtful concentration. People who have dealt with less weird shit than Nico has might find it a bit intimidating. Daimon isn't trying to be intimidating, though. Nico's just holding his attention.

"Not all magic," Daimon says. "There /is/ always a price, but you'll find that different paths demand different currencies. Some patron figures would take your offering of pain and laugh at it, or worse, consider it an insult. That's not to knock what you've accomplished, it's just... only one way of doing things. Have you ever /tried/ using anyone else's blood?"

Nico Minoru has posed:
Biting on her lower lip, Nico grimaces as memories of her time with the Witchbreaker and the torture she received to gain more power definitely stuck with her. Still, she looks up to meet his gaze directly. No, she doesn't find him intimidating in the least, just intense.

"Vampire blood." she says softly. "Just to track and burn him out of existence though." And then she sighs once more, curling up into a Nico-ball by the fire. "I dont know if I like that path."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon steps closer to the fire. He doesn't sit down next to Nico, but it does make it easier to keep up the conversation while she's balled up.

"I wouldn't have much to teach you there, anyway. It's nasty business, becoming the type of blood mage powered by the blood of others. Eventually you stop seeing people as people, and more just as... currency." He sniffs. "It's not the kind of behavior I encourage, though it's also not something I can stop you from doing, if you find its draw inescapable. How did you learn about your lineage's power?"

Nico Minoru has posed:
Does she tell him the truth and the whole truth? Or is she going to lie by omission. Mulling that decision over, she sniffs a little as she looks up towards him.

"My mom tried stabbing me or at least pushing me back with a giant staff." Nico explains, as she nervously twiddles her thumbs, looking at her hands now. "And it went in me. Became a part of me. Then I kinda figured it out from then. And no worries, I was worried about that as well, which is why I haven't used others."

Then, she looks up at him once more. "There are a lot of other magical traditions. I dont want to have to rely on a magical artifact all the time. I've started learning more since..." and she rubs her right arm that suddenly glows with a purple energy in response. "I'd like to learn how to better cast spells with this."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon is quiet. He has a drink of his coffee, then walks over to the study's desk and sets it down. He seems as though he's totally spaced on the conversation as he scans bookshelves until he finds the tome he wants, and brings it back to the desk to flip through.

Only once he's found the page that he wants does he look up, and he seems surprised that Nico wasn't following him every step of the way. "This staff?" he asks, and motions toward the book. In this crumbling volume, there's an illustration of the Staff of One, surrounded by calligraphic writing in an unknown language. "I'd heard the rumors that your family possessed it, but never anything to confirm. They would have been feared less if they'd kept nuclear warheads in their garage."

Nico Minoru has posed:
Well there goes trying to be generic. "Yes, that staff, but it's changed appearance since... well, since I died." Nico explains as she looks around and finds one of those fireplace poker things. It's fortunately not hot, and she winces as she pokes her palm with it, and as the blood trickles, that mantra can be heard.

"When blood is spilt, the Staff of One shall emerge."

Her right arm glows, and from the palm, a shorter Staff of One appears, with a tighter circle at the top. It doesn't look exactly like what's in the illustration until she focuses.

Her right arm glows once more and then disappears, leaving her a bit stumpy, but the Staff of One a bit more whole, looking much like the illustration. "Yeah. This thing."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon makes a face. "You're getting blood on my things," he says, though he's probably more annoyed that she didn't ask permission first. Still, he watches the display, and the transference of arm-mass to staff-length.

"I see. So your arm is empowered by the same magic as the Staff." Daimon folds his arms. He's thinking things through. "How do you command it? Walk me through the process of using the Staff. I know this must sound horribly dull, but it's important, so humor me."

Nico Minoru has posed:
With the Staff of One in her left hand, she takes in a long and deep breath. "I simply tell the staff what I want it to do." Nico does leave out the important part of she can only use a phrase once and once only lest something weird or crazy happen entirely.

What could she demonstrate though! Hearing the complaint, she bows her head, and looks for droplets of blood. She wouldn't want that sympathetic link ot where it could be used against her after all.

"Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser with Clorox!" she yells, and suddenly, the construct of a bald man starts cleaning up the blood that has trickled onto Daimon's study.

"That's it. I mean, at least, that's how you use the staff." It's simple, meaning it's incredibly dangerous.

"I want to be able to cast more spells without the staff other than minor cantrips and a few elemental and telekinetic spells."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
"Thank you," Daimon says, though he does look a bit puzzled by the avatar of Mr. Clean.

"But it demands payment up front," Daimon says. "You tell it what you want it to do, but it won't do anything unless you pay the price, make the sacrifice, in advance. Which is often how it goes with magic. You can't argue with fundamental forces of the universe any more than you can argue with a computer -- it only knows what's in its programming."

Daimon rolls his shoulders. "What you'd like to do is be less reliant upon its power -- not have to pay the toll every time you want to do something simple like clean a floor." Daimon steps away from Nico, and once he's clear of her, he reaches out to one side. Suddenly, from nowhere, his trident is in his hand, wreathed in hellfire. "Don't come too close. These flames will burn your soul, not your skin."

Nico Minoru has posed:
Watching him rather intently, she nods slowly. "It still hurts when I cast cantrips, glamours, and various things." It's how she was taught by the Witchbreaker. Magic is pain.

Then as the hellfire trident appears, she squints for a moments. Instinctively, she clutches onto the Staff of One, and takes a step back.

"No, I wouldn't want that." Nico says rather matter of factly. She's already broody and dark enough without actual soul burning.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon turns the trident around in his hand. "It hurts because you've learned that magic is a process of bargaining," Daimon says. "Normally, when someone takes on a protege, it's someone who has zero training, zero experience -- just raw potential. The reason for that is because they can be taught on the first go."

Daimon releases his trident, and rather than falling to the floor, it just... vanishes. "If you want to be my protege, Minoru, you're going to have to work doubly hard. Not just to take in what I'm teaching you, but to move past what you've already learned. Not forever. Not to leave it in the dust. But to put it aside and learn something new from the ground up. Which, I promise you, will be a huge pain in your ass. Are you still willing?"

Nico Minoru has posed:
The Staff of One shimmers and disappears in a cloud of purple energy before her witchbreaker arm appears once more as the magical prosthetic. See, she can do something similar.

"I'm more than willing." Nico replies with a warm and sincere smile at him. "It's why I asked." You won't get what you want without asking.

"I have omnyouji and Wiccan training. I wouldn't mind adding another one, three, five, fifteen styles if I need to."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
"Wiccan training," Daimon repeats, like she'd just said she studied at the University of Pixar's Cars. He manages to withhold a more cutting comment, though, and shifts his arms, resting his hands on his hips.

"Well. Welcome aboard, then. Do you have a means to actually travel back and forth between here and... wherever you live?"

Nico Minoru has posed:
"I have a tiny apartment in the Lower East Side." she explains as she scratches the back of her head with the witcharm. "I mean, how many ways can you say HOME?" Nico says with a cheeky grin.

"I've already used at least two." That would be English and Japanese.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
Daimon slowly puts two and two together, there. His nose wrinkles in faint distaste. "Ah. Well. I'll set up a portal between here and there. You'll just have to deal with me being able to come and go as I please." He says this off-handedly, like it's too sarcastic to be a threat.

Nico Minoru has posed:
And there goes the primary reason for trying to ween herself off the Staff of One. It's literally ONE SPELL.

Now that it's weakness has been semi-revealed, she nods, rather appreciative of the portal. "Having hunky demonspawn come in and out of my bedroom. Are you going to be my sleep paralysis demon then?" Nico wonders.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
When Nico says 'hunky demonspawn,' Daimon lifts a brow. "Careful, Minoru. You're not going to get any preferential treatment /that/ way."

Nico Minoru has posed:
"I wouldn't dream of it." See what she did there? Nico just chuckles and bows her head. "But yes, you will be my mentor." she says, seeming rather satisfied.