5261/Fateful Meetings

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Fateful Meetings
Date of Scene: 19 February 2021
Location: Lecture Hall, Hofstra University
Synopsis: Peggy Carter asks a certain Professor Hellstrom for assistance looking for a HYDRA artifact. An interesting friendship begins. Peggy learns a lot of answers to questions she's had for a while.
Cast of Characters: Daimon Hellstrom, Peggy Carter




Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    To topic of tonight's lecture covered the ancient world of Atlantis and the sunken treasures beneath the seas. Hellstrom presented it with a mystical slant regarding the fall of Atlantis and the rise of Vampires. How the Great Cataclysm was the work of mages who became too power hungry and eventually set the world asunder. When he was done with his lecture, the well dressed man of dark red hair and deep green eyes fielded questions regarding all of the evening's lecture and even a few that were out of left field regarding space vampires which Hellstrom replied, "You can find them on old Buck Rogers reruns. Nowhere else. - That I'm aware of." Then he closed the lecture and one of the Deans traded places with him at the podium as Hellstrom strolled off the stage.

    Backstage, Hellstrom is approached by a young redheaded assistant who gives him a bottle of water and says, "You were wonderful sir."

    Hellstrom says, "Thank you, Ginny. And thank you for the water. Now, you may go."

    And dutifully, she nods, curtsies, and then walks away as she was clearly dismissed. Hellstrom then begins his walk toward the back exit which will take him out to the street. As he walks, he adjusts his cuff links. The suit of black that he wears has a golden pentagram pin on the left lapel and beneath the suit is a black tie with a hint of red silk threads and a dark red shirt beneath. His shoes are immaculate with red bottoms.

Peggy Carter has posed:
It's not until she's utterly certain they are alone back stage, the assistant's high heel clicks having disappeared a few moments earlier, that Margaret Carter dares reveal herself. Whether she watched the lecture then slipped back stage, or has been waiting here the entire time, isn't clear. But she's not a woman who cares to be noticed unless she absolutely needs notice. Old habits of old spies die hard. "Mr. Hellstrom, I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time..." A neat, business-like London accent chimes in from the shadows as she steps forward, a few feet from the door.

The woman who has approached him doesn't look near her age, but a fit middle-30 something simply dressed like she stepped out of the middle of the previous century. She's in an hour-glass hugging emerald pencil dress, stockings with Cuban heels, and t-strap pumps. Her dark wool coat is fitted, but just loose enough to be hiding at least a few weapons. She has a neat, somewhat distant smile on her perfectly red lips and her short dark hair is styled to hide the mostly make up covered, faint burns that inch up the left side of her cheek and jaw.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Before he turns to address her visually, Hellstrom begins his denial of her plea for attention after her request to speak with him. His upbeat tone relays, "Sorry. Not now, I've a dinner..." and that's when he glances her direction. Spotting the young woman and all of her radiance, Hellstrom turns on his heel and redirects toward her. What was once a tone of denial turns into a welcome reception as he says, "Well, hello there miss...? What ever can I do for you?"

    In his casual approach, Hellstrom gazes into Peggy's soul. Skimming, seeking her nature, her intents. Discerning how pure or corrupted she is.

    He uses his Soul Skimming Power to learn more about her inner self: Daimon has a rather unusual ability to perceive broad patterns in the souls of those he encounters. Basically, he can tell what sort of soul you have. He can, in a general sense, tell if you are a 'good person' or a 'bad person' and all the subtle shadings in between. He can occasionally perceive specific sins or actions that eat away at someone or that they try very hard to deny or hide.

Peggy Carter has posed:
As Peggy watches him go from dismissive to interested with a single look in her direction, her smile goes just a little sardonic in nature. She knows what's going on here and her flattened gaze in his direction says he's not getting away with it. But she does need him. She takes another step forward, so they are almost in intimate talking range. Her voice drops just a bit lower, words meant only for his ears as she reaches into her coat to pull out a picture. He might catch a flash of weapon as well, if he's that sharp.

"I've been told you might be the expert who knows where...or how... the Thule Society lost this. Or maybe they never actually did." The artifact is interesting -- A matte black statue meant to imbue the holder with immunity to pain, or maybe death, or maybe just aging? The texts on it aren't entirely clear. But the nazis were certainly doing experiments on it in WWII before it disappeared just before the end of the war -- into HYDRA's hands, instead of Thule's. But Peggy isn't giving that information up yet.

Her soul, however, is far more interesting than the artifact. Tarnished and old -- incredibly older than the woman before him appears to be. She's got the weight of a century on that soul and all the exhaustion, guilt, and loneliness that comes with it. Ultimately, there's the glimmer of a good person beneath it. A completely good one. Someone who has spent her whole life fighting for the right things. But there are layers of soot, guilt... Murder, anger, revenge... all layered on top of it. She's a woman who can and has committed war crimes for the 'right' reasons. And she stands there, looking calm and innocent as some post doc walking to talk ancient pottery.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    He does notice the weapon, which brings a smile to the corners of his lips. That and her proximity. Then there's her soul. Which intrigues him even more than the initial glance in her direction and her hourglass figure. As she offers the photograph, Hellstrom says, "What a lovely fragrance you wear. Seems to be timeless." then he glances the photo and says, "Oh my..." in a quizzical tone of elation. "What in the world is a lovely woman such as yourself going chasing about the Thule Society and after this relic? Are you in some pain and wish to be immune to it? For that is what the statue will grant you. However, it will not save you from damage or dismemberment. Nor will it stop you from bleeding out."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The look in her eyes slightly changes as he immediately recognizes the artifact and also pings its exact use, instead of the guesses that the Thule society was making. Peggy doesn't say it aloud, but her dark eyes look gently impressed. She folds the little folder over the photo shut again and slips it protectively back into her coat pocket. He clearly knows what he's talking about.

"No, no... Not for me, personally. Though it's good to know they weren't getting extra life from it. I imagine the thing was used in some... horrific experimentations. But my curiosity is more about where it went after it left Thule's hands. I have reason to believe it made its way across an ocean." There is no hesitation or shyness behind her voice. As much of an expert he is in his field, she seems to operate with the same amount of confidence. Even if she hasn't directly mentioned her field. Yet.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Nonchalantly, while fixing his cufflinks once again, Daimon says, "I have its sister piece in my collection. It is the one that saves off death. Quite troubling however. Not all artifacts are actually worth the promise they offer. I would be glad to show it to you... however, I'm not keen on playing show and tell with a woman whose name I do not know, her organization, field of knowledge, and whose soul speaks of honor and betrayal in the same beat of her lonely heart." His eyes glance over her form, inspecting her clothing once again and then her hair and the burns about her skin.

Peggy Carter has posed:
There are few things in the world which throw Peggy off her stride, and she's not completely shaken, but he gets a momentary look of surprise from her as he reads her sharper than most profilers could this early in a conversation. Her head tilts, a few more locks of that faintly waving brown hair falling away from those subtle burn scars, and now she's studying him a bit closer than before. Intrigued, more than anything.

"Margaret Carter... I work with SHIELD, but this matter is off the books and I prefer it stay that way. My field of knowledge is... complicated, but I suppose spy covers most of it. For whom the British and the Americans would consider 'the proper side'. I've long ago abandoned saying we're the right one, but I'll always consider anyone on the side of Nazis evil and worth putting in the ground. Which gives me *some* hope we may work together, Mr. Hellstrom. But the file on you could be wrong..."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    He loves how she bullet-pointed all of it into nice digestible chunks of information. His eyes were alight and hanging on every word coming from her perfectly formed lips that wrapped around her accented voice. He smiles more and more as she gets to the tail end of her assessment and says, "Never believe everything you read. While I love the concept of killing Nazis, slicing their throats open and letting their blood boil out, I don't always get the opportunity. Not one that has so presented itself in such a nice, perfectly wrapped and fragrant package." Perhaps his words are tailored to her, or perhaps they are looking for a tactile or visceral reaction from her. Either way, or the other, he seems to choose his words before uttering them. Very un-American. He adds (and based on her reference to spycraft), "Miss... Or rather Agent Carter. Agent of SHIELD and a far more proper woman than I've had the privilege to encounter in such a long time... I ask, wherever do we go from here? For I am gladly, and happily at your service."

Peggy Carter has posed:
If Daimon knows his history at all, Margaret Carter is a name for the books. Not simply an Agent of SHIELD, but a Founder. One of the most famous spies in history, no matter what an oxymoron that is. It might be considered silly, some young thing to be using that name. Or some alias that she's given in attempts to dodge the truth. But her soul matches a woman of that age and that varied history. Possibly, somehow, she is exactly who she says she is. Even if he has managed to get the faintest brush of warmth to her cheeks as he calls her perfectly wrapped and fragrant. She's not quite accustomed to that being a topic of discussion.

She clears her throat, pulling away from handsome eyes, "Yes, well... Thank you, Mr. Hellstrom, but my... Wrappings are of no matter to the job. And as I said, I'd prefer this off the books, so you are welcome to simply call me Peggy. I'd be curious to see the sister artifact. Would there be a way to possibly trace between the two? If I thought the other was in the city? Thule doesn't have it any longer, but those who do are still Nazis. If I'm right about where it disappeared."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    She is an object of his attention. He maintains eye contact as she speaks and seems quite pleased with whatever she has to say. He hangs on her every word as she sums up the thoughts of what he was already extrapolating from his own thought processes, "Peggy, a lovely variation. Now, if I didn't know any better, I'd assume you are a telepath. For your words reflected my own considerations. Like most paired artifacts, they are connected at some level. And, with this connection - if they are within proximity of one another; say, a few hundred miles - then they can be used as a compass to find the other. So, if your half is indeed within the city, then we should be able to track it down. So, our starting point would be my home, just east of here in Long Island."

Peggy Carter has posed:
That heat lingers in her cheeks, the dark haired woman very much not accustomed to being this much under someone's attention. Peggy's more used to blending into the background these days. She gives him a slightly throaty, husky laugh at the comment about being a telepath. It's the touchable sort of laugh which comes with the weight of decades behind it, but a woman who isn't scared to find life as amusing as it is miserable. For a Brit, Peggy allows herself feelings. She just restrains them well. "Not a telepath, just trained at... reading people. But I'll take the luck."

Then then flashes a smile up to him, starting to rebutton her coat against the winter air. It also makes her gun a touch slower to access, should she need, so it's a small show of trust. "I don't generally go home with strange men on first encounter, but if we can track this thing, your offer is somewhat irresistable."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Hellstrom smiles, pleased with the turn of events and the luck of the moment. "It's not every day that I get to take a woman to my home whom isn't immediately thrown into my bed. This is quite refreshing and a nice change of pace." Then he offers his elbow as a gentleman would, "Shall we?" and gestures toward the exit.

Peggy Carter has posed:
While Peggy takes that first comment about as smooth as possible, he might hear the faintest choke of a laugh that she cuts short by swallowing back. He gets a strange, ambivalent little smile from her, "Well, Hellstrom, I assure you that off the clock doesn't mean... *Off the clock*. But I do appreciate the help." She clears her throat, breathing back any more blush that's threatening at her cheeks. She does slip her arm into his, old fashioned habits incredibly hard things to kill after two lifetimes of training in them. This close she smells like amber oil and vanilla soap. "If you have a vehicle, we'll take yours." If she's being anonymous, chances are she got here on public transit.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    "Oh, I do indeed have a vehicle..." He will close the distance to the door with her, exit into the alleyway and then look up. "Better hold tight." And he will move to scoop her up into his arms, cradling her under her knees and behind her back. If she allows, and doesn't fight against his advances she will suddenly be lifted into the night air. Rising up between the buildings - rising 10 floors. In the passage of windows, she may take note that he is preternaturally warm to the touch. His body radiates a heat that will shield her from the cold night air. And, within those few seconds of elevation change, she will see the 'vehicle' he indicated. https://tinyl.io/3Y1y . The chariot and steed are upon a rooftop awaiting his arrival. The three demon horses will snort and stomp when seeing him, and her, and nay and winny.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Ready for most things, the somewhat odd, flirtatious, but mostly normal seeming professor suddenly taking off into the air with her in his arms? That was not something Peggy planned. By the time she's got her head about her enough to realize what's happening, they are already halfway up the building and she's instinctively leaning a bit closer into him just to shield from the winter air. Her skirt caught on his sleeve, she's thiankful for the warmth of him with bare stockings just against his arm. His heat is noted, her hand splaying out almost gently against the center of his chest, across heart and sternum where he's almost feverish to the touch. Peggy is about to ask a touch more when they're settling back into the rooftop.

Her eyes are wide, staring hard at the vehicle and those strange, demonic horses. "...Oh hell." She breathes out quietly, breath fogging the air around her as she realizes he's much more than she might have expected. "...possibly literally. You aren't.... simply a professor, are you?" But she's taking it in stride, no protest about the vehicle. Just curiosity as she moves to settle in.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    "Hell indeed. Surely you read /all/ of my file." He smiles as he walks her over to the landing of the chariot and will place her within. Stepping in behind her, he will move her to the front of the U shaped standing area and move in behind her. His warmth remains strong against her while one arm takes the reigns and the other hand grabs the railing - on the other side of her. He intones, "You best stay between me and the chariot, don't want you flying off the back. That would never do."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Your file most *certainly* did not mention a demon horse pulled chariot. I think I'd remember that." Peggy deadpans, settling down on her heels and trying to look a little more calm and collected about this whole situation than she feels. She's truly perfected British dead pan, all external signs showing that she's ridden upon more strange and this is just another, regular day. Internally, though? Her heart skips a little harder and she's keeping her breath not shallow out of focus and body control alone. This *is* unnerving. She simply won't show it.

"I think I can manage to stay inside. But... I'll keep close." And she does settle against him, for warmth as much as anything. The shorter nature of her hair makes this sort of flight easier than it would have been six months ago. "Your file mentioned... magical, most likely. Unknown origins. I would put origins somewhere in the infernal realm, if I had to make a guess."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    "Quite a good guess." He cracks the reigns and the demon steeds leap into the air, pulling the chariot rapidly behind. The sudden change of inertia will demonstrate that holding on was not an option and also reveals just how strong he is - able to hold them both in. They are suddenly within the clouds, the cold wind whipping by. He's very warm. He continues when the chariot levels out. "My mother was a human woman... my father a Hell Lord. A match made in ... well, not Heaven."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I have a... friend... who shares a similiar expertise. Though he's not keeping any infernal steeds, as far as I'm aware." There's a lot of layers behind Peggy's last words, starting with 'friend'. There's something more there. Anger, hurt, frustration, maybe attraction. It's a complicated friendship, clearly. But now that she's settled in against him and knows the lay of how they are traveling, she does seem to have calmed herself from the initial shock. She's adaptive, if nothing else.

But also human. Which means, outside of his arms, it's damned cold. She tucks herself instinctively against him, head pressed against the crook of his neck, stealing from and sharing his heat even as her hourglass frame doesn't much generate her own. "...Hell lord. So, you are...half demon, probably of a mid to high level. But with humanity in your blood it gives you a level of free will most hell lords do not possess. Am I correct?" It also means she can read and talk to him far easier than she could if she was standing separate from him.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Many moments will pass as he gets the steeds directed, focused, and up to speed/altitude. Then he finally returns to the discussion. There's a reflective tone after looking down to Peggy within his arms. He says, "I'm sure you have many /friends/, Peggy. However, I'm not so sure they all live up to your expectations or desires. Fleeting fantasies of fiction in an uncertain and unfamiliar time in which you live. I would venture to suggest that you will only find what you seek once you have found comfort in your environment - in this very strange world in which you live. That will take a leap and a perspective change. One which you can only find within yourself - not within your /friends/."

    Then he points. "There." The city is well behind the both of them and Long Island has been a mix of blurred lights and clouds. He points off in the distance a very large mansion on rolling grasslands surrounded by trees. "That is my home."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The muttered words against the side of her head, his breath nearly as warm as his body against her back, drive her a little more tense than before. Chances are, Daimon hit a little closer to home than she'd ever care to admit. She doesn't speak for several moments, but simply stares out over Long Island as her bobbed hair whips in the chilly wind. She clears her throat softly, "It is a bit more... complicated than that. But I'd like to think I am catching up to this time rather... Well." Her voice is stiff and proper. The temptation to show emotion firmly shut down.

Then she is happy for the distraction of his home, blinking a bit as she realizes just how large it is compared to the rest of the country side -- and just how much money *that* much property on Long Island would cost. She clears her throat quietly, "...Goodness. Your... Professorship must pay... quite well." It seems she also has the British gift for understatement.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    He chuckles, "Family money... I'm paid a tenure salary. Nothing comes close to affording this house." Then he directs the steeds to land in the back lawn. There are stables/barn and other areas. Also some mares within. Once touched down and stopped, he backs away, giving her space and then stepping off the chariot. Once on the ground, he will offer his right hand to help her step off, "May I?" He asks as a gentleman would.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"... did you inherit your manners from your family as well? Or a self made gentleman?" Peggy asks with an arched brow as he offers his hand again. She pushes her palm back through her hair, this shorter cut far easier to calm after an incident like that than her old vintage waves. But once she's feeling a bit more back together, she takes his palm and smoothly steps down off the chariot, ietting him lead the way inside.

As they walk, she's taking it all in. The eyes of a trained spy but also someone horribly curious about the man and the situation in which she's found herself. She shows no hesitation in diving in head first, but she's going to do it as aware and informed as possible. Even after a century of life, her soul burns with that sort of determination.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    "Inheritance. All the way. I only do my best to expand upon it through investments and other ventures." Once she's off the chariot, he will break the grasp upon her hand. He doesn't with to imply anything and will actually give her space (a few feet between them) as they walk up the hill toward the mansion. He continues speaking, "Remember, my father was a Hell-Lord. So money wasn't an issue for him. And the family business is clearly in making the deal. So, with his scheming and masterminding, I'm the fated result..." - He smiles as if he's making a joke. Or is he.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The respectful breathing room is not only appreciated, but noticed. Peggy gives him a long, thoughtful look over as they are walking, her high heels a quiet click down the rich, hard flooring of the mansion, but then she goes back to studying his place of residence. Looking for easy exits, possible hidden passage ways, any other ancient artifacts of note. She's trying to take it all in while still getting the initial profile on the man himself. Finally, he's granted her dark eyes again with a curious smile.

"While I am not entirely unschooled in inferno matters... I've never *exactly* met a Hell Lord before and can only entail what that might mean by the demonic encouners I've had. And John Constantine. Who is... not the most reliable of sorts in his own way. So, forgive wrong assumptions I might make. I am certainly curious for the actual truth of matters." And she lights up a bit there. Information is an addiction to a spy like her.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    In a teaching tone, Hellstrom states, "Simply put, a Hell Lord is a very powerful devil that rules over a hell plane. Or an infernal plane of existence. Most Hell Lords deal in soul currency. Each soul gives the Lord power. This also applies to Divine planes of existence as well. When a mortal worships a god or deity, that divine being gains power. When that mortal dies and passes into that deity's realm, the deity or god gains more power. Souls are the currency of the divine and infernal alike."

    The back entrance into the home is directly onto the patio and then the grand room. Which is a massive room larger than most houses found in the burbs. It has a gigantic hearth where fire burns warm and keeps the entire room heated and comfortable. It also illuminates the room. Many fixtures are within, lots of furniture, affectations and art on walls and shelves, and of course books. More common books than arcane. Additionally, there is a bar setup and grand windows that peer into the back lawn from which they came.

Peggy Carter has posed:
As he gives her that practical glut of information, Peggy's eyes go a little bit wider and then abruptly narrow. Part of her is trying to figure out if this is all true -- it was simply too easy, to good to be real, but the rest of her is reading him as utterly honest. A little, disbelieving laugh escapes her red lips, "...that makes... A lot of sense. And a few puzzle pieces of the last several months fall into place. I suspect you do not need the money, Mr. Hellstrom, but... I'd have work for you more often than either of us may find comfortable." Peggy's voice comes with a little smirk.

Now inside, she carefully unbuttons her wool jacket and turns to find somewhere to hang it. She won't remove her weapons (two guns below her shoulders in custom fitted holsters to her somewhat generous chest and toned back), but she feels comfortable enough, and warm enough, not to need the jacket to cover them.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Once removed, Hellstrom will actually move to take the coat from her. "Allow me." and he will cast it to his right. But instead of it falling to the floor, it will disappear into nothingness. "When you are ready for it, it will appear." He explains and then motions to the bar, "Would you care for something to drink before we go downstairs?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...I tend to be a whiskey girl, but only the proper stuff... Though I suspect that's all you keep in the house." Peggy is unphased by the disappearing coat, either she trusts him or she has nothing of important in it, but some of his more fancy tricks are taken with a casual aplomb. She walks casually over to the bar, moving to pull down a 16 year Lagavulin he has and help herself to at least two fingers. She's apparently not shy either. "Tell me, do you treat all the women who stalk your lectures like this, or simply the ones from the secret service?"

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Moving with her to the bar, he is pleased to watch her take the initiative and pour the whiskey. His eyes are alight with her actions and movements - and bravado. He then says in a flirty tone but making fun and light of the question. "Honestly, my type is a bit more specific. First, they must be strong willed, intriguing, beautiful, and of course be named Peggy... Although Margaret will always be a close second."

Peggy Carter has posed:
That last comment gets a roll of her eyes to the ceiling and a very certain, if slightly teasing, glare in his direction. "Well, there it is. I knew you were somewhat *too* good to be true and that you'd end up if not impossible, somehow utterly incorrigable trouble. That pick up line was almost smooth... *almost*. Just reached a little too close to the sun, Hellstrom." But Peggy is still smiling, more amused than annoyed. She takes a good sip of her scotch and gives a small sound of approval.

"...Not going to have a drink yourself? Come now, you can help yourself, you know where they are." She might be a touch incorrigable herself.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    He laughs. Knowing it was all a cleaver joke and ploy on his end to keep it cheesy and fun. Then reaching, pulls the bottle over to his side of the bar and grabs a glass. He pours more than two fingers and sits the bottle back where he got it. He picks up the glass and salutes, "Then we shall go with a simple, "It is better to know you for who you truly are than to throw you into my bed and know only the carnal pleasures which are fleeting." then he drinks the glass down.

Peggy Carter has posed:
That makes her choke momentarily on her drink, the blush from earlier quickly returning. Peggy clears her throat, giving a slight shake to her head as she looks back to him, "I am a *touch* harder to get into bed than that, Mr. Hellstrom... and even had I the thought, I'd rather take down whomever these HYDRA cast offs are and return the artifact to safer hands than be distracted by a handsome half-Hell Lord who actually knows manners. So... please. Lead the way." She motions with her drink towards the other stairs, since he did seem to indicate it was downstairs, and promptly moves out of the room with him. Focusing on work is far easier than focusing on the temptation to relax with this very relaxing individual.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    "I was just about to suggest that...", states Hellstrom after setting down his glass. He turns on his red soled shoes and gestures with a sweeping hand in a directional sense. "This way, dear Peggy.". His stride is not timid nor aggressive, it's peaceful and sure. Each footfall strikes the hardwood floor solidly while crossing the room toward the massive hearth. To the right of the hearth is a grand staircase wrapping up and to the left (behind the chimney). However, he moves to the left. There, he will press two stones in a sequence of three and a secret door will slide open. He will then say, "It's always nice to keep things hidden away from prying eyes." Then, through a hallway and into another room.

    ?This concealed room has one purpose in mind, magic and rituals. Here, the caster can find resources of which to focus their magical abilities. First and foremost, the floor is of a unique black stone with a pentagram painted in a special paint and occupies the majority of the room's center. Each point of the pentagram has a place for candles. Then on the far east end of the room, almost connected to the pentagram is a encircled triangle with a pedestal within it for books or components. The room is slightly bigger than the two circles and offers shelving on all the walls, a few chests, and other tables that are well used. The shelves and containers are all filled with reagents, objects, various trinkets, artifacts, relics, and the like. The room itself has a distinct magical feel to it and for those that detect magic, it's rife with it. The ceiling is 13 ft tall and covered with glyphs, sigils, wards, and symbols. The walls are also adorned with such markings and there are various sconces to offer light either through torch, electricity, or even gas. There are no windows on the dense walls and only two ways out of this room. West to the hidden door to the great room, or south to the office.

    It should be noted that secretly there is a basement access and vault beneath this room. The basement access is where he's headed while passing through the 'magic room'. He comments while passing through, "This is where the magic happens." before descending stairs downward.

    "Do mind your step.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The moment they start crossing in the direction of that seemingly plain wall, Peggy is looking for which stones will activate something hidden. She didn't guess them exactly right, but she was close and a small smile cracks over her red lips as she memorizes which two are the answer. Just in case. For the future. Then she's following behind him into the concealed room, her expression calm and curious. She's not bothering to hide her interest in any of the things he has about the place. She notes the pentagram, the candles. The other circles. She definitely knows enough to figure out what she's seeing and for her dark eyes to take in the most mystically important parts of the room, so she doesn't look entirely lost. Probably knows just enough to get herself into trouble. "...Useful little hide-away..." She comments quietly, before continuing on.

Then it's to the basement. Her brows loft curiously, but a smirk decorates her lips at his somewhat cheesy statement. "Yes. By your circles -- for summoning and containment, I'd guess... The pentagram, the triangle, and the material of the floor... I suspect that is where a good chunk of the most dangerous magic you need to control happens." She gives him a wide, quiet smile.

"I always do." And down she's going after him, heels still clicking quietly on the floor, but she move smooth and comfortable even on old stairs and down chilly, hidden corridors.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Reaching the bottom step and the landing of the basement, Hellstrom intones in his teaching voice. Magic itself isn't inherently dangerous. It's what wields it - that's what's potentially dangerous. In reality, there are three sources of magical energy. Personal, Universal, and Dimensional. Personal comes from within. Most everyone has a soul - that can actually be tapped into to generate a magical effect. Which is why it's a currency to the divine and infernal - and others. Personal energy also comes from life force, which is not totally separate from the soul, but it is another form of personal energy"

    He turns on lights. It is a spacious room with wooden and iron beams to support the floors above. The basement doubles as a storage area for many old fixtures, furnishings, rugs, and other things that aren't so important.

    Hellstrom continues the explanation, "Universal is what we find in nature and the physical, elemental, or energy universe. For example, some magic requires reagents or foci. Reagents are 'eye of newt', 'tongue of frog', 'wing of bat'. While foci are things like crystal balls, wands, charms and raw elements. While those can assist the usage of personal magic, they are more in tune with Universal magic, as they are often batteries or catalysts to stimulate exchange of energies from one point to another. I could pull life out of a tree to give life to dying cat. And then there is the aether - which is another topic for later. That's Universal energy."

    He takes a breath and glances around the room for a moment while continuing to explain, "And then, there is Dimensional... Dimensional energies are more akin to tapping into other dimensions and the inhabitants of those realms. Such as calling upon a deity or a demon to provide you with energy to cast a spell. Dr Strange calls upon the entity Cyttorak to invoke Crimson Bands. He also uses other dimensional entities like Watoomb or (the) Seraphim. The wielder entreats often by using ritual spells - often taking place in the room you saw upstairs. This entreaty is also an exchange or a promise. I give you X, you give me Y effect. Sometimes Universal power comes with a great cost - one that not everyone is willing to sacrifice."

    He pauses a moment and waits for her to respond. Perhaps she has questions or commentary.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Oh hell, yes...I am... quite familiar with Reagents. I've been on a bloody nightmare of a scavenger hunt getting several of them for a friend... It's been a nightmare. A very fussy, specific, full of fussy specific people nightmare." Peggy admits with a tired little laugh, but her frustration with Constantine and his ingredients list is big enough that it's definitely spilling through her proper British restraint. Someone had her go on a wild goose chase. But then she's falling quiet, the rest of his instruction more valuable to her at this moment.

It's all things she vaguely knew, but not specifics. She now has the silence of someone who is listening -- truly listening -- and a little bit rapt by her teacher's words. She's not even studying the room near so much as she was the previous area, though her dark eyes do spare a few moments to take in their surroundings. But she's fascinated by it all. A little laugh escapes her throat. "I almost wish I had a note book. This is the... best explanation I've gotten in 80 years of active service, most of it spent tracking down strange things like this..." She finally forces herself to look away from him, more properly at the room around them. "...I had gotten the impression that Msgic always.... always comes at a cost. Sometimes an easy one, but usually not."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    There's a thoughtful pause as Hellstrom considers her last statement. "There's always a cost. But there are many ways to get around it being 'personal'." He waits a tick then holds up a finger as if to make a point, "A simple example is..." He looks her over and says, "I'll bet you exercise. Perhaps running, cycling, or something aerobic. You consume food to give yourself energy prior to the activity. You then perform the activity until you become exhausted and then you have to 'rest' and perhaps consume more food to replenish your energy reserves. That, in whole, is much like Personal Magic." He then looks to the room again. Turning toward the back of the room he holds up both hands and says, "Excuse me a moment, we need to get to the vault."

    His hands become enflamed with black and red fire and he chants, "Anál nathrach, orth? bháis?s bethad, do chél dénmha". The room illuminates, the far wall then fades and reveals a circular black vault door with many runes/glyphs written all around and upon it.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A small sound comes from her throat in turn. "So, even when...transferring the cost, or getting around it being personal, it doesn't need to be... violent or dangerous to someone else. It can be something easy. I suppose for easy magic. These things tend to be in direct correlation, from what I've seen. The bigger the spell, the bigger the power ask... the more fuel you're going to need and the more personal it will be." There's a weight behind her words, the weight of experience and not exactly discomfort, but something heavy. It flickers across her soul like sandpaper. Bad memories of worse people.

But she shakes it off, far more interested in watching how he opens the vault and vaguely remembering those words, but she's not gauche enough to repeat them to make certain she got them right. Hopefully, she'll never need to break in here and try to use them. She stands close, though. Close enough that her perfume is still on the air as she watches him work. "And this vault is attuned to you?"

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    "The entire estate is attuned to me. Everything is warded and guarded. Nothing supernatural, divine, infernal, or other subclasses can enter my home without my permission. This vault is one of the safest unknown to man." His answer comes before he breaks from her and strides to the vault door.

    In transit, he takes the moment to answer her questions. "Cost is variable. Now we're getting into Schools of Magic. There are many... so, so many different disciplines that ultimately reach for the same goal - alter reality to your desires. Which is essentially what magic does. There are good, neutral, and bad schools. Which takes us back to the original question about Magic being inherently dangerous or not. Yes.. in the wrong hands, whether they are the hands of a good, neutral or evil caster, it can be dangerous and often the schools dictate what path the student takes. Be it a practitioner of Chaos Magic. Their focus is darkness, demonology, and/or necromancy. Many of the spells used in those domains are dangerous and often violent toward others. Because often times those who study in that school want to do harm to others."

    He reaches the vault door, places his right hand upon the center of it. There's something of a crystal orb that glows to his touch. Then the inner workings of the vault door begin to retract and come undone/unlocked.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A small breath of almost approval escapes her throat as he mentions the entire place is attuned to him. "...Good... for all the highly dangerous things stored here. Bad for me if you ever truly go evil and I need to clean the place out for the world's own good." The statement is made with a tone of flirtation and joking behind it, but every joke has a core of truth. Peggy's always making plans within plans. She just likes him enough to hint that it's a possibility on the table.

Then he's continuing his lesson and her expression turns back to being seriously wrapped up with listening. She's certainly curious and appreciative of his words. It's a helpful lesson. Even as they walk forward, her head tilts curiously at the statements, not the vault. "And is there a way to tell what... school of magic someone is using? Detection amulets, or some such?"

Dark eyes flicker forward, wanting to see what this is like the moment the vault finishes opening, but she's still got that curious glint to her features. She wants her answers.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    He smiles when she regards the part of him 'truly go evil'. But his focus is on the door itself and it finally swings open while she speaks and he steps back giving it space.

    Her next question comes as he's once again straightening his cuffs and he offers an answer, "In most cases, it's just being aware of the nature of the spell while it's being cast or the effect upon the target or environment. Though, there are devices as you suggest about detection. Even spells that a person can cast to identify the residual energies left behind or upon the affected."

    Within the vault - which is probably bigger on the inside than the outside (super deep and super wide) - there are many shelves and isolation areas for all the trinkets, baubles, weapons, books, artifacts, relics, super creepy dolls, crowns, skulls, bones, gems, gold, money, cases, casks, tankards, rings, necklaces, bracelets, bricks in toaster ovens that are evil, and so on. Countless items that all seem to have a proper place for storage.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"Those. I would like one of those devices. I'd offer to pay for it whatever you please, but it does not seem you need money, so we would have to figure another trade. But...that would be immensely helpful. Not more than figuring out where this artifact is. But... after that." Peggy admits with a glimmer of hope and excitement behind her voice. The fact that something could give her some manner of answer to all of this mess? It's quite exciting.

But now they are in the vault and her chocolate eyes go just a bit wider under lush, slightly heavy lashes. She stares about the place, taking in decades of different things, "...all of these are locked away for... evil properties, or is this your so-to-speak Dragon Horde, Mr. Hellstrom?" She asks with a little half smile in his direction.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Stepping into the vault, Hellstrom doesn't immediately go into detail or fully address her request for an item of detection. Instead, he will only say, "I'm sure we can work something out." Then he moves into the depths of the vault. "It should go without saying; but I will say it anyway. It's best that you touch nothing within my 'dragon horde'. I would hate for you to be harmed without cause, wrong doing, or in the heat of passion."

    He doesn't even bother looking back, instead, he heads deeper into the vault through the stacks and shelves seeking the sister relic.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I don't think I've been 'harmed in the heat of passion' since 1952, Mr. Hellstrom... but I shall keep that in mind." Peggy admits with a deeper, rather amused smirk at that thought alone. She shakes her head quietly and continues a slow circuit of the room, looking for anything that appears like the artifact in her photo. But she does obey his words, not touching anything or even getting near enough that her dress could accidentially brush against it.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    There are many unique items. Most are labeled in ancient languages that are older than Latin. And then there's a small child's chair encircled by a golden rope (3' diameter). Upon the chair is a ventriloquist doll who stares intently toward the approaching Peggy. It seems to have a fixed, wooden, yet evil smile and the piercing green eyes remain transfixed upon the woman. https://tinyl.io/3YSn

    Hellstrom has fade from site, turned down a line of shelves, unseen, unheard. Though it's likely he's still within earshot and heard her remarks about being harmed in passion. Perhaps even thinking about how that needs to change - all the while wearing his own devious smile.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The chair gets a little narrowing of Peggy's eyes, studying the uncomfortable doll on it and then looking towards the descriptions. She can read about half of them, having a few bits and pieces of ancient languages under her belt and most modern ones. Still, the doll is discomforting enough that she turns away from it and double times down the line of shelves, looking for him. "I think your green eyed wooden friend likes me a bit too much." Peggy mutters. Fear is generally well covered over with a good jest.

Then she's catught up to him, turning down the row of shelves where he'd disappearead. She arches a brow as she catches the edge of that smile, curious eyes turning a bit more amused. "Something on your mind, Professor?"

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Not responding to the initial remark about the doll, there's an uncomfortable silence until Peggy finds him at the end of a small row of shelves. He's holding an almost identical item to the one in the photograph that she has within her pocket. He was looking intently upon it and then when she rounds the corner he looks up, "What's that? Oh, yes. The doll. He's a bit of a bastard." Then holding up the relic for her to see, he says, "But I found it. Now, back upstairs and we will see if the sister is within range and can be located."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The uncomfortable silence isn't missed and, more than that, the way he was staring at the thing. Peggy tilts her head, studying them both a bit closer. "...That's not... pulling your mind into it, or something, is it, Professor? That was an awfully long look you were giving the thing." But Peggy looks gently relieved that she found it. She's not been strung along by a highly charming, highly educated snake oil salesman. She reaches into the pocket of her dress, pulling out the sister artifact's picture again. She looks between the two. "That's it. Perhaps follow your own heeding care instructions, hm?" But then she's following him back into the more comfortable areas of the mansion.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Walking, leading her toward the vault exit, Hellstrom makes note, "No, I was not being overtaken by the item. I was looking for a tether or magical string. To see if it was obvious or not. For it would have made it a bit easier. Instead, I'm going to have to make a few phone calls before I can begin the ritual. I will need a bit of assistance on the /universal/ level." His reference to the universal level harkens back to the previous lesson about types of magic. He enjoys making things circular and relevant.

    When they exit the vault, the door will close on its own, reseal, and then fade from sight.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"You're a highly skilled professor...You know that?" Peggy offers quietly, as she trails along with him, quietly happy to be free of those doll's eyes. She's not missed his circling the lecture around to things he previously taught her but, in this case, she appreciates it as well.

"And, of course, if there is a way I can assist, simply say. You are doing this as a favor to me, out of no where, but an hour after we met. I'll admit I cannot quiet imagine why you've decided to be...Quite so cooperative and helpful. But I won't complain. It has been nice to have something go smoothly for once in a very long life."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Moving toward the stairs, Hellstrom receives the compliment and nods with a brief 'why thank you' before letting her move on with the direction she wants to take the conversation. Climbing the stairs, he states, "Your soul." and then after a few steps he clarifies, "I can see it. And from what I see, you're well worth the time, effort, energy, and what-ever-comes from interacting and engaging with you. In the wider picture, this is a promising adventure that will further my own goals of removing dangerous artifacts from the hands of dangerous people. Plus, it's been a while since I have been so delighted to have a conversation with anyone of the opposite sex that doesn't involve... well, sex."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"...Oh." Not too much drives Peggy speechless, but someone admitting that they've looked at her soul? That's enough to mildly surprise the woman. "I'm not certain I should feel...uncomfortable or flattered. Probably a bit of both." Definitely a bit of both. It's a flattering intrusion, to have been judged as such and found worthy in an interesting way. She clears her throat gently, swallowing back all those emotions, even if that faint blush crosses her cheeks again as he mentions his other proclivities.

"Ah, well. Yes. I'm glad to have... amused you, and that our goals seem to align for this moment. That is certainly useful and I won't complain about your expert help. It has been full of invaluable lessons, even if we do not manage to find the other artifact." Peggy means that as well, a gentle, warmer smile on her lips as she lets the gratitude slip through her eyes and expression. She follows him smoothly back up the stairs, taking them with ease. She's as fit as she is well learned, it seems.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Reaching the top of the stairs and back into the Necromanteion (ritual room), Daimon moves to deposit the artifact in the center of the pentagram. "That will keep it safe for the moment while I phone a friend." - Making a reference to a popular game show remark while pulling out his cell phone. He glances back to her, looking over her face and body once again; perhaps inspecting for accidental brushing up against evil stuff. Or perhaps just to look upon her. Then he finds the contact and hits dial and pushes the speaker button so she can hear the ringing.

Peggy Carter has posed:
No sign that she's brushed against anything uncouth. Peggy is as fresh and put together looking as she was when he first met her. If anything, she looks a bit more flush and alive than she did before, eyes shining with the excitement of someone who might be onto answers about a mission (but also just got a lot of important, valuable information.) As old as Peggy Carter is, learning new things still excites her. This has been an exciting day, and it shows in the head of her cheeks and glisten of her gaze.

"Do as you need. I'm here and happy to assist. You are doing me a favor, after all. I'd be an idiot to attempt and rush you. Besides, I somehow doubt transit comes out here, so...I'll have to tackle the problem of getting home sooner rather than later. Preferably later." She gives him a smile that might be on the edge of flirting, but she'd deny it every time.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Spilling all of her words while the phone rang brings a raise of Hellstrom's left eyebrow. Seemingly pleased with what she relayed, he is about to say something before the phone is picked up.

    On the other end of the line, "Master, you are in need of assistance from your loyal and faithful follower? How may I serve your needs. Hail, Son of Satan, hail all that is unholy and infernal. Hail..."

    Hellstrom interrupts him, "Harold.. Harold. Calm down, you're going to pop an artery. Listen.. I need you and the gang to do an empowering ritual. Focus your attention on 'discovery'. You can do that, right?"

    Harold says, "Of course master. Anything you wish. We can get started within 20 minutes. Is that soon enough for you, my all powerful master?"

    Daimon says, "Absolutely, Harold. Just get on it... I'll text you when you can stop the ritual." and then he clicks off before Harold goes into more groveling.

    Daimon says, "We've got about 20 minutes to kill. You were saying something about you getting home later than sooner?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
The quiet, but mostly audible, commentary from Harold gets a very long, slightly wide eyed as she catches a few bites of what Harold calls him and, more than that, how deeply Harold seems obedient. She folds her arms across her chest and takes a few steps closer, just staring HARD with a tilt of her head. She doesn't interrupt. What's done is done. But once the phone is hung up, her eyes go wide.

"What the hell... No pun intended... what is THAT?! How did you mind... fuc... warp... Him? Faithful follower?? Are you a CULT leader?" Peggy is completely distracted from being home later or sooner now, that conversation having been a cold shock of water against her face among what has been a very nice interaction.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Hellstrom clearly enjoys Peggy's reactions, posturing, and even her tone when she starts going on about the cult and there's even a quirk when she almost says the word 'fuck' which was quickly corrected by the word 'warp'. "Remember we were talking about Personal energies and earlier about worshipers and power? Well, this is an example of that and how to avoid personal costs for performing personal magic. First you get a band of followers who worship or idolize you... No, I'm not a cult leader. Harold is the leader. I'm just the object of their affection. Once they idolize you, then they essentially 'give you energy'. If you can focus that energy, you can exact an effect or in this case, power a ritual."

Peggy Carter has posed:
The dark haired woman looks distinctly less than comfortable. She's keeping her distance from him now, a certain wariness in her gaze that wasn't there. She takes a few slow paces around him, almost in a half crescent, never getting too close or in whatever radiant atmosphere he's releasing. "And does he... know this? Did he fully understand what he was signing up to... do? This has been all consentual? I have my doubts. Energy is... useful. Yes. And it happens in the military too. But people are made aware of what they are signing up to do..." Peggy's hackles are up the most they have been since this all started.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Thoughtfully, Hellstrom explains while watching her pace about, "While they are cult members, they are not completely stupid or blind. Furthermore, I have often tried to get rid of them. Disperse their little band of stupid through explanation, fear tactics, and outright anger. But they keep coming back. They idolize me. So I use it to my advantage - which is to say that I am not taking advantage. They are not losing or sacrificing anything. Nor are they evil. Just delusional. And you know how delusional people are - you cannot break them from the delusion. My use of them benefits more than you know.. in fact, it's benefiting you in this venture. Now, if you are uncomfortable with that, I understand and can see and relate to your point of view. But if you're okay with it, we will proceed and attempt to find the artifact."

Peggy Carter has posed:
There is a heavy, long amount of silence from her as Peggy listens to him, evaluates his words, looks for any tiny HINT of a lie from him. But it's not there. She still seems a bit uncomfortable, silent for several heartbeats as she continues her slow pace of the floor. She finally looks away, running one hand down her face in the consideration, before giving him a low sigh. "No... if this is of use and they... understand... as best they can, what is going on? Then..." She gives a little bittersweet sounding laugh as she looks to the ceiling. "No different than every 18 year old who ever signed up for the military. None of them know what they want to get into, but then they are brainwashed and under your command."

She sighs again, tired. Too tired. The things he's doing to this man are things he's done to others, and she remember all their faces. If not their names. That sharp edge of guilt that rides all of her soul only deepens. But she doesn't pull away. "You aren't wrong. And we should both be damned forever because of it..." Those words contain the last truth of Peggy's soul. For as good as she is, she has accepted she's going to hell.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    "Dear Peggy, you are not dammed. Nor will you end up in a realm anywhere near that of a hell plane. Me on the other hand..." and he smiles. Content with leaving it at that.

    However, he goes back to the potential question about the followers. "And to answer your question about understanding. They do, as best as they can. They are truly no different than churchgoers. Yet, the preacher will often mislead his flock. Promise them something unobtainable in exchange for their hard earned money. While those that worship me will surely find themselves in my little corner of hell. If they disserve it, then that is where they will stay. If they do not, I will usher them to another plane of the afterlife."

Peggy Carter has posed:
As he says she's not damned, Peggy stares ahim a bit harder. It's the first thing she's heard him say which she does not believe, but he seems to trust in. It boggles her. She gives him a look which is supposed to be a smile, but is certainly harder than any smile in existence. "That is most kind of you to say, but I suspect you are lacking information to know how my soul will be judged. You do not live my life... innocent."

But when he moves on, Peggy is quite happy to move on as well. She clears her throat, lets her smile soften a bit, and straightens her shoulders. "Yes, I... dislike but, but... I cannot blame you all. I was raised Angelican, after all." In the 1920s, of all places. She heads over to the bar as they are waiting, preferring to bury her head in a scotch than this conversation.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Choosing not to debate or argue, Hellstrom lets the conversation about the afterlife for future discussions. He moves to the encircled triangle and says, "You might want to stand within the circle." the circle he is standing within is indicated, "I'm going to work on the setup. While we work on this, you can tell me how it was growing up Angelicin. It's one of the less hellfire and brimstone Prostentant religions. Quite refreshing actually with more rituals than 'off the cuff condemnation'. Did you feel safe within the religion? Comforted. Fulfilled?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
The line of questioning about her family's religion definitely gets a slightly surprised look from Peggy. This is a conversation like none she's had in a very long time. She neatly takes a few steps over, closer to him, so she's assuredly in the circle and protected from whatever he's doing. She watches him as keenly as she studied his house upon the first tour, eyes that are used to needing to repeat details after the fact and be a reliable witness. She could probably reconstruct this entire scene if she had to. But she's comfortable enough in her study to carry on light conversation.

"When I was young, it was every Sunday in your finest clothes... As much a dog and pony show as it was a religious service. But yes, quite ritualized, quite lovely. The sort of religion where if you repeated all the words in the right order and got your Latin accurate, no one much cared what you actually *believed* behind them. But we showed off a lot and it gave my parents a community. When the war was on, especially after Michael died... most of us went far more Eastern and Christmas, and my mother started going to even the week day services. I suppose that's what war does to people... you find God or you lose him."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Black candles appear at each point of the pentagram and ignite. He listens quite attentatively, looking her direction between sentences and handwaving toward the pentagram to cause other things to change. The pentagram's lines begin to glow a yellow orange. And speaking of change, he unfastens his jacket buttons and removes it. Folding it vertical (open/backwards), then laying it over the side of the podium. He then grabs his tie and pulls it undone and then off. He lays the tie on the jacket. He begins unbuttoning his shirt.

    He states, "War is hell. Literally. The toll it takes on the human psyche is indeed a quandary. But what about you?" He turns while finishing up the buttons on the deep red shirt. Then opening it. It's pretty clear that he has a pentagram over the majority of his central chest. It is not only present, but also glows a feint yellow orange. "How did it make you feel? How does it make you feel now?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
As he begins unbuttoning his shirt, Peggy cannot help but look a little closer. It's the first time she's been at all distracted from the ritual he's setting up but he is *distracting*. As she catches herself looking, she clears her throat and abruptly looks away, a hint of heat returning to her cheeks as she stands up a bit straighter and sets her shoulders in a proper square. No, she wasn't staring! Of course not. That glowing yellow orange pentagram, however, does get another interested glance over her shoulder.

"...war? Or the church?" She asks with a tone that is doing it's best to be casual, but it's not something Peggy can casually discuss. She lets out a slow breath through her nose. "...I... That's a very long answer, about war. At the time it was... exciting. Then awful. I was 18. I wasn't on the front lines until 43... At that point, the war had just become all encompassing. It was... my life. Then it ended but it never really... Did." She gives a slight nod towards the artifact he's working upon. "Finding the sister to this? Still a part of it. These are people I have been fighting since 1943. After all this I... suppose I'm just... Tired. Very tired."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    "Well, I was more asking about the church and it's effect on you. But your story about war is quite interesting. I would never ask a woman her age; however, I will say that you are remarkably young appearing for such an old soul. I'm going to guess - frozen in time, an iceberg, perhaps time travel or some super fancy serum that lets you live forever?"

    The shirt is removed. His body is hairless. Chiseled shoulders, muscular chest and abs. He doesn't seem to care if she looks. But he's also not going out of his way to Vogue or anything overt. He gently folds the shirt like the jacket and lays it over the jacket.

Peggy Carter has posed:
"It has been an incredibly long time since I set foot in a church so..." Peggy lets out a little laugh, "I suppose that is as much a note of its effect on me as anything else. Not great enough to remain a part of my life save attending funerals or weddings." There is no bitterness in her voice about it, just simply stating the facts. Another quiet chuckle comes, "And yes... that last one. An emergency in the 70s, it was try an experiment or let me die. My colleague decided to try and... it worked. Mostly. There are complications but I shall enjoy my youthful complexion a bit longer, at least." She states with a wry smile.

As she realizes he's not going to get more dressed and it's either miss entirely the motions he's making, or be staring at his frame, she gets over whatever sense of propriety she was trying to have and turns back to him. No longer staring, she's seen it now, she's more interested in the motions he's making than the sight of his frame. However nice that sight is. "...is there anything I might do to help with... This?" She motions to his setup.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    There are a few gestures, a few flickers of light, and then Hellstrom returns his attention to her offer of help. He states while looking over the pentagram, "Best you didn't... and; be wary of offering help to the supernatural sort. There's always a price. When you help one of us, we are indebted to you. While this sounds like a potential reward on your part, it could backfire. For the more nefarious of my type may then 'repay' you with something that has more value, and thus you are indebted to that person or creature. The scales will be forever out of balance - in their favor."

    His hands move again and there are a few remaining pieces that float from shelves along the walls to the center of the pentagram next to the relic.

Peggy Carter has posed:
A smirk pulls at her ever-red lips as she shifts just a few steps closer, almost near enough to touch now but she doesn't quite invade his space that much. Peggy is now fully watching, curiosity well outweighing modesty, even as he warns her off helping. "And I suppose those old phrases of help freely given in this specific task doesn't quite count? I do know all the old fae stories, if nothing else." She folds her arms across her chest quietly, so fingertips aren't tempted to assist in picking up a piece or adjusting whatever he's doing. Or trailing closer to him. She remains a slightly stiff, hovering, warm presence at his shoulder. "Besides, you are already assisting me. Would that not imply I've initiated the debt cycle?"

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    While she talks and assesses the situation, Hellstrom moves his arms, raising his strong shoulders and also continues to emit a nice physical warmth from his body. "Indeed, it does.", he says with a smile. All the while keeping the majority of his focus and front side facing toward the pentagram while they both remain in the triangle. He leaves it at that. Knowing that he has more to say on the subject, but enjoys the conversation play and the cliffhangers of it.

Peggy Carter has posed:
There might be just an edge of flirtation to her ton, as she leans over, a but closer to his shoulder and that warmth that emenates from him. Seemingly, to better examine what he's going, but it puts her voice at his ear in a way that is a bit too pleasant to be fully oblivious to her position. Peggy's smiling as she speaks, not overly worried about it all. Yet. "Indeed it does... as to the old faerie phrasing, or the debt cycle? And while I made no promises of assisting you in the future, and fully reserve my rights to say no... Should you come knocking, I suspect I'd be content to assist you in turn, with a task that doesn't compromise my morals or my professional loyalties. After all, there is this matter of being...Polite. Doing a good turn for a good turn. Or have such respectful ways gone out of style and we must be infernal and soul bound about it?" She is definitely teasing at the end there.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Hellstrom remains quiet as she speaks, though he finds humor in it all. "While all those clauses are interesting and self preserving; they would not hold up infernal court." He turns to face her, seeing that she is so very close and perhaps even an arm brushes against her in his turning, "But we should be clear." He states looking down upon her. He continues, "My intentions with you are above board. As I've implied; association with you has promise for adventure and mutual benefit. I've no interest in coming to you like the Godfather and demanding repayment. Being in your presence is payment enough."

Peggy Carter has posed:
As the brush of his arm, she doesn't jerk back like she's been burned or startled. She gives him a touch more room to operate, but only just. Still near enough to feel the heat from him and for the scent of her vanilla and rose oil to linger on the air around them. She chuckles huskily at his last comment, that making her stand straight again as she slightly shakes her head. "You had me until the last sentence. I'd think a man as well schooled as you had *slightly* better pick up lines. But I agree on the adventure and mutual benefit aspect."

Then her expression falls a bit, going far more serious than her momentary flirting but a handful of seconds earlier. "But I mean it. I will not betray my own morals or my work." Not her organization, her work. That is careful wording he may or may not notice. "I would rather lay down my life than let some... poorly worded debt change who I am. If we are to work together, I expect that to be respected. Understood?"

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    Hellstrom's smile broadens. His tone is light as if he's finding humor in the exchange. He states, "You thought that was a pick up line? No, dollface (using a word from her era), that was the literal definition summarizing my initial words. Stating that being in your presence is fulfillment of the adventure and mutual benefit. It's flattering how you think I'm flirting with you. You needent worry about me infringing upon your morals, work, or what have you. Just because I have a pentagram on my chest and I am infernal does not mean I'm deceptive or nefarious like my kin."

    Then he turns back to the pentagram and looks to his cell phone that's placed on the podium. It buzzes, illuminates and shows a message that reads, "We are ready, master."

    Hellstrom says, "Now, back to work. Do mind the circle." He clicks the quick response on the phone that reads "You may begin." and hits send. Then he himself begins to chant in ancient Atlantean while drawing magic circles in the air of magical light.

Peggy Carter has posed:
The 'dollface' comment gets him a flat little look, but there's still a glimmer of amusement behind her eyes. She's got that old fashioned way of flirting, the bit that always comes with a hint of protest because a lady never gives it away for free. But the mutual enjoyment of this interaction seems assured from the continued faint upturned corner of her lips.

"You are not deception for nefarious like your kin...unless it suits you. I have no doubt a man like you could be quite deceptive if he needed to be. That is like a spy saying she's not a liar. But I will not hold your kinship against you. It's a sort of nature humanity shares."

And then work is properly starting. She looks down at the cellphone, smile tempering in remembrance of the fact he does have an entire cult at his beck and call. But she cannot dispute their use. Her dark eyes focus on the circle instead of him now, though she listens a bit too curiously to the language. There are very few common use languages she does not know, and even a few uncommon ones, but this is new to her. "..Not Latin, that is certain..." She mutters thoughtfully to herself.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    The room becomes illuminated with a red hue of magical energy that first makes the pentagonal walls glow near the top and then the energy seems to beam from the walls to the relic in the center of the room. The infernal circles he draws in magical script have atlantean lettering in their borders and they too are red and glowing. The lights beams from the walls fade and a red weaving path seems to rise from the relic and it moves around the room like a growing snake. Circling around and then finally arching itself westward.

    Hellstrom says, "That's the trail... Now for the second spell. He chants a few words, a globe of yellow appears in the room. It is of the Earth. It has the various continents - plus other continents like Atlantis and Lemuria. But it slowly rotates and settles on facing them with North America. Then a small red pinpoint begins to glow over a New England township just to the southwest of the Tri-State-Area. The globe seems to zoom in on the area and it demonstrates a 'vague' location somewhere west of that small township.

    Hellstrom says, "There. You should take a picture of that with your phone."

Peggy Carter has posed:
While Peggy is certainly more calm than most regular women would be seeing the entire thing light up as it is, the colors of the room changing, the glow near the top... But she's not entirely blaise about it. Dark eyes go a bit wider and she has the slight tension to her body of someone doing threat assessment. Maybe she'd trusted this a bit too easily? But then there is a globe and her eyes turn to focus more on it. "... Fascinating." She breathes out quietly.

When he mentions taking a picture on her phone, she immediately reaches into her pocket, grabbing out her SHIELD phone before she stops herself. Instead, she digs into the opposite side and pulls out a completely unmarked, older style phone. It won't be as sharp as SHIELD's picture quality, but she seems to feel safer about using the burner, for some reason. She snaps several images before replacing it to her pocket. "Got it."

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    He holds the images for as long as she needs. When Peggy states that she captured the images, Hellstrom waves his hands cross one another, then back out and everything fades leaving the recessed electrical illumination as being that which remains. He picks up his phone and texts, "Done, your service will be rewarded." and then he hits send before turning back to Peggy while grabbing his shirt and begins to put it back on.

    Hellstrom asks, "When will you have the time to pursue this lead?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
The woman exhales quietly, considering the image on her phone. "Even if we can focus it down to that exact township... doing the data analysis of the various buildings, organizations, denizens... will take a few days. And there's a lot of ground to cover. Within a week, I can get a small team there. But not tomorrow." Peggy then looks up from her phone to him as he starts to reclothe. "If... you have better ways for focusing on the energy on the ground, the assistance would probably be... Helpful. But otherwise, I do thank you. This is far more than I had at the start of the day." She finally steps back out of the circle area.

Daimon Hellstrom has posed:
    He will finish buttoning up the shirt and then he will say, "I will open a portal to send you back into the city. I need to handle a few things around here, secure the artifact, and so on. Contact me when you're ready to begin the search. I'm looking forward to it."

    He will teleport her into the city in a fiery gulf of hellfire that will deposit her in some random Manhattan tea shop's back room in Chinatown.