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Revision as of 03:19, 12 July 2021 by PoeWolf (talk | contribs) (Satana and Thomas have Mike for dinner. OVER. They have him OVER for dinner.)
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Zoom Zoom zoom
Date of Scene: 12 July 2021
Location: The Griffin
Synopsis: Satana and Thomas have Mike for dinner. OVER. They have him OVER for dinner.
Cast of Characters: Thomas Blake, Michael Hannigan, Satana Hellstrom




Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake never planned a low stress kidnapping. Actually he never really did any kidnapping. There was a matter of unlawful imprisonment involving the caped crusaders waaaaay back and a giant cat robot. Anyway, he figured provide some dinner at least, and made various egg dishes, set out beers and side salads. Making sure all is in readiness he dials Nick's number on another burner phone.

"Hello sir. I want a word with you as soon as inhumanly possible. Right now in fact. We need to discuss further communications. Satana might want a song... I think you should indulge her. She's adorable when she is grateful."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Over at the condo, Mike sits on the sofa lengthwise, notepad and pen in hand. Despite matters going on, the musician seems to be at work creating something. After all, just because he's minimizing the amount of stupid interactions with ghosts and demons by staying in an overdone salt circle doesn't mean he can't get work done. But being he's not going out anytime soon, he's still kind of dressed for bed with some lounge pants in place. And... he did throw an old shirt on because it's still not technically bed time.

The ringing of the phone draws the musician's attention over, causing for Mike to reach over. Glancing over, he sighs, picking up the likely wrong number call to answer it. "Hey."

Recognizing the voice on the other line, he blinks to the phone. "...ok? "

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana has been playing with Thomas' phones. (Yes, plural.) Lazy as she is when it comes to housework, preferring hordes of imps to do the work for her (regardless of the comical destruction that tends to ensue--they can always steal more plates), she is downright studious when she does her magic studies.

And her hobby-verging-on-obsession there is technomancy. This is where the phones come in. The phones she'd bathed in her personal bodily fluids while chanting unholy words and scraping unholy runes into them with her claws.

Upon hearing the question of where the meeting should be, she smiled that wicked smile of hers, rapidly entering the room as Thomas made excuses. The one that Thomas learned long ago to feel chills down the spine at seeing ... as well as anticipation at the hijinx about to ensue.

Her voice goes dark as death, down two octaves, as she channels her demonic self. "Right about now would be good..."

Her hand gently takes the phone from Thomas, then holds it while the other reaches in. Into the phone. Through the screen, expanding the case behind it, causing the battery to break out into a lithium fire. (A very literal interpretation of 'burner phone' that is.)

On the other end a clawed, demonic hand unerringly reaches out for Michael and starts pulling, distorting both Michael's body in ways that are unpleasant (though not actively painful) as he gets dragged into his phone, only to come out of the flaming phone at the other end.

Still holding the flaming phone in her hand, she continues in a more pleasant, feminine voice.

"...and right here is fine. Hi, I'm Satana, remember me?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake wags his finger at Mike. "You let a do gooder see that card. He used magic or bribes to show up at my door. I invited him in because there is no class in killing a man on your porch."

"Fortunately he's... quite reasonable about who I am and what I do... Or I'd really be angry. But I am doing damage control. So here. This is a burner phone. It is off the grid, unregistered. It will contact me. Get rid of that card. Give it here if you have it. Having said this... would you like some dinner. Satana said she'd love to have you for dinner I believe."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike tilts his head, looking over to the line of salt lining the condo. This has been an odd week that's for s- The movement from the phone ends up drawing his attention back to the screen. "OH FOR CHR-"

Mike doesn't get to really finish as someone other than himself distorts him in ways that even he wouldn't typically imagine. "FU-"

And out the other side he goes. "-CK." Eyes wide, giving a bit of a grimace to the chosen mode of travel He looks over to Satana as she gives him a reminder to who she is. "Evening, Satana. And yes I do. It'd be hard to forget you." He returns back.

Honestly for a guy who got pulled through a flaming phone, he's handling this a bit better than one would expect. He looks over to Thomas as he starts getting scolded and being handed a burner phone. He glances down to it, "Well, I don't have the card on me." Funny enough, carrying around people's phone numbers in his sleepwear doesn't seem to be a thing for him. "...For the record, the last time I asked if you were alright with me bringing it up with the friend I had mentioned earlier and you were fine with it." He looks around, glancing back to Satana at the mention of having him over for dinner. That word was just accidentally missed, right? "Um. Sure if you cooked." He glances back to Thomas, "...Which name would you'd rather I use for you?"

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Having had her little fun of causing pants-shitting terror in a human, Satana is remarkably civil at this point. "Oh, Thomas, he's been scared enough. Don't make him think I'm planning on eating him just yet."

Her eyes scan Michael's body bottom to top. Then back.

"Well, not for nutrition at any rate..." she adds thoughtfully.

She glances over at Thomas. "You've been cooking all day. What are we having? Should I get the imps to set the table while we entertain the guest?"

The giraffe winds up in her hands, clutched against her as she turns her black eyes to the guest once more, mouth curled in what is probably supposed to be a welcoming smile but has more than a little bit of hunger in it.

"Do you do private concerts, by any chance?" she asks.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake silently pads to the kitchen and returns with plates, utensils and a huge bowl of scrambled eggs. The eggs are still steaming and smell delicious. Bloord wobbles in behind him loaded with the sides. Because Bloord will actually do what you ask in a non-comedic fashion. He bears a six pack on his tail. When they set the food out Thomas pats the little demon on the head. Bloord shivers with delight. Thomas decides not to do that again.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake says, "Nothing too fancy. I did pick up some stuffed grape leaves. Anyway, I wanted to fill you in. We have two more tagged to help you out. We're looking into two more. So probably six total. Finest... security money can buy. What are the venue and quarters like?""

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike gives a slight smile to the assurance that the phrase was just improper. But upon the added comment, the musician's eyes move back towards Satana. A brow raises, but the question about private concerts does move him back to work mode. "Sometimes." He admits, "Depends on the schedule and the nature of the request."

With the large container of scrambled eggs being brought in along with the beer, Mike looks over to Thomas. "Ah. Breakfast for dinner. Haven't done that in awhile." Eh it's early in the tour. Give it time. He reaches over to grab a beer. Because, priorites. And right now alcohol seems like the best answer. Pale eyes look over to Catman as he mentions needing two more people. "...I was approached by someone else offering help after they saw that article. Do you know of someone who calls themself Red X?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake taps his chin. "I... may have heard of them. I hear about a lot of people. Anyway, we seem to have stealth and magic covered. I'm going to look for some firepower and/or muscle now. I have an account in the Caymans you can deposit our retainer to."

He begins spooning out eggs for Satana and Mike.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana narrows her eyes at Bloord meaningfully, causing that worthy to flee back to the kitchen. A few seconds later he returns with the demoness' favourite condiment: Hotter'n'Hell Carolina Reaper Hot Sauce, placing that on the table beside the eggs before beating a retreat more hasty and thorough than Thomas' prior beating of the eggs.

"There. Now the meal is complete." She looks at the sauce. Looks at Thomas. At about waist height. Looks back at the sauce. Back at Thomas. Then ... smiles slowly. Cruelly. She has plans...

"Red X? Is this someone I should be aware of?"

Unspoken. Is this someone tasty?

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike looks to the plate slid over towards him, taking up a fork, "Ok, so is that someone you can use or should I tell him no?" He cuts into the eggs with the side of the fork before scooping it up into his mouth to chew thoughtfully. Brows raise as he looks down to the plate. "...You know, my aunt had a breakfast potato recipe that'd go really good with these."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake somehow palmed the bottle of hot sauce when no one was looking because: CROOK. "I'm willing to take a look. As long as it isn't Batman in disguise... or worse. I'll check them out myself. You get a feel for these things after a while. No catch and release do gooder will get past us. Satana will chew them up and spit them out."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"I've got a wonderful sauce that would go as well," Satana says, sliding across her Carolina Reaper after dousing her eggs with it. "You should give it a try. If it comes on a bit strong for you, I'm sure there's fluids we have access to that can alleviate the pain..."

The stress on 'fluids'. The leaning forward. The low purr of the voice. The eyes flicking toward the bedroom door.

...

Is she asking for application of said sauce?!

"I mean exactly what it sounds like," she murmurs, resting a hand on Mike's knee.

Beat.

"I have a stash of very good beer next to the bed. It will clear up any burn in seconds."

That spark (literal!) in her eyes. She knows what she did.