6872/Owl and the Pussycat

Owl and the Pussycat
Date of Scene:	11 July 2021
Location:	The Griffin
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Thomas Blake, Strix, Satana Hellstrom

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Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake lived in the African veldt. There were times he was glad to drink water out of an elephant's footprint. There were times he ate termites chimp style. There were many other stories of survival that could justify his own reality show.

In the Griffin's front yard, Thomas is wearing enough to keep the cops from arresting him. Lady across the street is camped out watching him, to her husband's ire. Thomas continues mowing the lawn and picking up around his yard.

"It's not the heat it's the humidity," He mutters. Africa was hot but dry. This is just sweltering. He reaches for a water bottle and shoots the old lady a look before taking his shirt off.

"Muriel. Muriel, I am standing right here!"

"Yeah, John -but the show is across the street."

Strix has posed:
This is the second time in her life taking the Hyperloop to New York. The first was to visit Scott to let him know that she was okay, and to have some fun with Cassie. Now she's on the way to visit the address that scary woman she met last night gave her. Strix let her 'eat' those thugs last night, which didn't sit well with her, and now she wants more information.

She waited until the sky started to darken before slipping on her Talon costume to go check out the address. Slipping from rooftop to rooftop, the assassin makes her way, until she's a few houses away. She wasn't sure what to expect from the house, but a hot, shirtless man mowing the lawn was not it.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake decides maybe the fee the landscaper quoted wasn't too out of line and wonders where he placed the man's number. He up ends the bottle pouring the remaining half onto his head, plastering his long hair to his forehead. He shakes the excess water from his face, then glares at the house and says sharply, "Satana, someone better at least get out here and help me put these tools away. It's getting dark." That someone showed an almost supernatural ability to avoid all chores except baking. She'd probably be a help burying bodies. He hoped not to test that out.

Strix has posed:
Stana. That's the name on the card. So she /does/ live here. She crawls on the rooftop to get a better view of the place, observing silently. She's done these stakeouts before, and has the patience to keep an eye on the place. Only difference is, she's not planning any kind of assassination, yet.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
There's a long period of no response from the house. It seems Satana is occupied. At the other end of the house. Doing stuff. That's noisy. So she can't hear sharp words telling her that work needs to be done.

You know. The usual.

Except...

The door opens up. And out pours a horde of 45cm-tall imps, looks of terror on their face as they look over their shoulders behind them before rushing to Thomas. "We wants help. Any way we can be assistance we wills try. You want grass eaten? We eats grass! You want house painted? We covers house in ..."

The general gist is delivered in a hub-bub of over a dozen high-pitched squeaky voices DESPERATE to be given work.

In the doorway Satana stands, leaning against the door frame and grinning.

"Tell them, Thomas. They want to help."

"YES! WE WANTS HELP! WE SO BADLY WANTS HELP!"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake ponders a moment then points at Satana and says, "Attack." The imps freeze in fear. "Okay, worth a try. Just for kicks. All right, ya little monsters, take these tools, lawnmower, clippers, clean them, oil them and store them in the tool shed in back. And get me some beer. And bring out the lawn chairs. You... get out of that rose bush!" There is a mass of little poofs and pops as the imps comply. Tools vanish. chairs appear, beer appears -bottles in a tub of ice no less. Thomas sits down and smirks, then waves Satana to join him on the lounge. "That old lady has been eying me all day. And there's a chick dressed like a demon owl or the Moth Man on the roof over there watching us now. YA gonna come down or nest up there."

Strix has posed:
Of all the things Strix expected to see, a horde of tiny imps was not one of them. She starts to grin behind the mask, taking an amount of childlike delight in their antics, but that smile fads once Satana steps out entirely. Here's her quarry, and she's being very domestic. This wasn't exactly what she was expecting.

She watches the scene for a while, but then gets called out by the man. She hesitates deciding on what to do. Finally she concludes that she should meet the man at least. After all, it takes a practiced eye to spot her.

She leaps down from the building, startling Muriel, and walks across the street, waving at the pair until she's standing in Thomas' lawn, surrounded by imps.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana has a new way to torment Thomas. It's his fault, really. He should never have introduced her to the "classic TV" channel. Affecting the mannerisms of Peg Bundy, she tromps down the stairs and bounces across the lawn, hair piled high in a beehive. (Thankfully she doesn't call Thomas 'Al'.)

"I've been cooking, Thomas!" she says, seeming about to gesture before stopping and blinking at the arrival of Strix. The vapid Peg Bundy act drops from her like a bee concussed by a swung frying pan. Eyes narrow and the inner predator comes to light in stance and demeanour.

"Who is this, Thomas?" she asks, her eyes not leaving Strix. "Wait ... something ... she's familiar. I can't quite place her..."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake shakes his head, ignoring the oooooo-ohs from the imps. "I say this rarely but, I'm innocent. I don't know her from She-Hulk. She could be She-Hulk for all I know. It could be a clever disguise. Special shoes to make her shorter. If this fucking imp doesn't stop wagging a finger at me... Hello, what can we do for you? Would you like an imp for a day? Want a beer? Are you lost? Are you here to try to kill me? No? Want a beer? I get nothing out of her. You try. Perhaps nude charades."

Strix has posed:
Strix walks up to the pair, confidence in her steps. The gait would be familiar to Satana, reminding her of the young woman she had met last night. The one who had quickly and efficiently taken down four armed thugs. Hooded eyes taken in Satana and Thomas before she reaches into a hidden pocket and pulls out a notepad and a pen. She flips through the pages of the notebook until she finds the one that she's looking for and holds it up for all to read:

HI!

She, then flips through the pages until she finds another one:

MY NAME
IS STRIX

The writing on the pages are done in childlike script, as if the woman never had a formal education past fourth grade. She looks at Satana and flips to a blank page and quickly scribbles out:

WE MET
LAST NIGHT

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
It takes Satana a few moments. Or, rather, it seems to. It's hard to tell when she's being honest, after all.

"Oh! You're the mincemeat making machine from Gotham!" she says excitedly. Turning to Thomas she adds, "I meant to tell you, I got really hungry and went to Gotham City's smorgasbord. That ... uh ... Narrows, is it called? The place where nobody gives a damn. I saw some guys about to mug this girl here, and stepped in, but it wasn't needed. She could turn them all into mincemeat in minutes."

She looks back at Strix with thankful eyes. "But when I asked her to keep them alive so I could feed she did, so that's a plus. They were so DELICIOUSLY vile. I'm gorged now. Couldn't take in another sip of a soul!"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake phews. "Good. I can use a night off. I'm wasting away." Obviously a lie. He gets up and says, "If you're one of the good guys you're obviously not one of those catch and release types. I'm Thomas." He holds a hand out to the Talon. "What brings you here?" He also calculates just what he's dealing with. Taking down four armed men, pretty good. Dismount from the roof, Bat-worthy. Build, manner indicate very athletic.

Strix has posed:
Strix visibly shivers at the mention of the soul sucking, vividly remembering what happened to the thug. Brr. She looks at Thomas when he asks his question and reaches back into her hidden pocket and pulls out Satana's card, which she hands over to him as way of answering.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"So, yes, I invited her here to talk to you about that thing you wanted to make with the thing where we find bad people and do worse things to them."

Satana is really playing up her bimbo look here. The glint in her eye as she talks to Thomas gives away her game.

"I mean look at her. She's even better now than she was in the alley! Send someone like her against one of the assholes and we can clean up: money for you and the team, souls for me, and ... uh ... I guess ... less assholes for the world? It's win-win-win!"

One of the imps seems about to say something when a single finger point from Satana causes it to freeze in place, not daring to move a muscle. A flesh statue. A meat popsicle.

"I'm glad to know you Strix. Have a seat. I'll have some ice cold brews brought out..." A half-dozen imps start heading straight to the door to fill the order, interfering with each other and generally making a scene until one of them breaks free from the pack and manages to dart inside, shutting the door in the face of the others. "...and we can chill and drink and talk business. This is Thomas' gig, so I'll let him do the heavy lifting while I just look pretty."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake grabs a beer for Strix and twists the cap off. Never mind it wasn't a twist of. He holds it out to her and sits back down. "I think we can use someone like you. This job is straight up legal. No human casualties. We're guarding a rock star from ghostly and demonic enemies." He opens another beer for Satana. He gulps down half of his own beer. "If you're interested I can put you up right here."

"Honey, I wish you'd tell me when you're inviting people over. I look a fright." He smirks at that then he nudges Satana in the back with the cold bottle.