7349/Amazon's, Hell Lord's, and a Spirit. And no, it's not Bezos

Amazon's, Hell Lord's, and a Spirit. And no, it's not Bezos
Date of Scene:	13 August 2021
Location:	Bronx Abandoned Chruch. Now with new holes and damaged altars, and missing pews and tire marks.
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Satana Hellstrom, Atlin, Robbie Reyes

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Satana Hellstrom has posed:
It's almost tragic, the loss of faith. Were she not who she was, Satana would certainly find it tragic. Instead, however, she finds it convenient. Oh so convenient. People stray to sin so easily when they don't believe in anything higher than themselves as an ideal. And sin? That's her business.

Thus it was that, dressed in a corkscrewed asymmetric wrap that didn't quite close at her waist, held together by daringly positioned laces that show an unbroken line of flesh from the top of her thigh to her waist, festooned with beads shaped in the form of skulls both animal and demonic, and in a top that similarly fails to quite reach around all the way, thus being held together by similar lacing decorated in occult symbols of all kinds, she finds herself on the prowl in the Bronx, admiring an abandoned church from the 19th century, gazing with approval at the 'satanic' (the incompetent pretense makes her laugh!) graffiti, the gang colours, and the general feeling of decay it exudes.

Her thigh high leather boots with the thick, tall heel clack against the pavement as she crosses the road, stepping out of one pool of fitful, flickering light and into another on the other side, the street lamp trying, but failing, to pierce the nighttime mist. She pets the inconcgruous plush hippopotamus under her arm idly, thoughtlessly, like some kind of tic.

Her prey--only now selected--approaches her as she stands paralyzed in the street light, leg crooked as she leans against it. Mistaking her as something else (as prey, rather than predator) he offers her money, she accepts it, then gestures to the door of the abandoned house of worship.

"Kinky!" was his comment. Then, "On the altar?"

The pair go inside.

Psychically his pleasure floods the aether and the astral domain around her as she kisses him inside the front door, a prelude, he thinks, to his paid pleasure. Her drain triggers the most intense climax he will ever experience before the pain starts. The pain that takes the form of an aetherial scream as his body starts to dessicate, his soul flowing from his body in a purple stream to form a butterfly that hovers in the air in front of his empty husk.

The butterfly Satana admires briefly before capturing it and crushing it, inhaling the essence that escapes from the life now snuffed.

"Oh, Ballal," she says to ... nobody in particular? "That was a good one. A child molestor. That taint... It..."

And she falls to her knees in her own climax that rivals the climax she brought to her prey.

Atlin has posed:
A rougher neighbourhood, the sort of place a 'girl like her' shouldn't be wandering about at night she'd been told. Atlin's lips curled into amusement at the warning from the kind storekeep who'd offered her that warning while she made her way through the night.

She doubted most in this city had ever met a 'girl like her' when even among her own people Atlin had been an oddity.

The hoodie she wore over her form concealed whatever she wore beneath, its lack of flattering cut clearly suggesting it had been intended for a male and its faded color hinting the fact it had probably been donated. But it was better than openly wearing amazon armor among people, she'd quickly found that caused stares and panic in equal measure.

Her own empathy wasn't quite like most Amazon even in Bana-mighdall, the 'darker' side of emotion that much louder to her...and that scream of lust turned to fear intermingled with hunger and dark satisfaction?

That was something new.

Within moments she was running, a high leap easily clearing the fencing around the abandoned church and sending her landing before the once-locked doors.

Doors easily cast open with a slam as she steps through. The daughter of war was not a subtle creature.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    A handful of blocks down, there is a young man on his back, wearing a formerly white t-shirt, stained different colors of brown from countless drops of oil and fluids from his project rain down from above and spray up from below. A pair of torn blue jeans over a pair of chuck tailors finish off the young mechanic's look.

    Robbie rolls under his old Dodge and with the large oil pan on the ground, he reaches up to the oil plug with his wrench to get back to doing the basic maintenance.

    ((OH. F**K! DO YOU FEEL THAT)) Eli screams internally towards Robbie who pauses, his uncles soul speaks directly into his mind and that feeling. That horror. "Yeah." Robbie frowns and looks towards the door, hoping that's something that Gabriel wont notice, wont feel.

    ((YOU HAVE TO SAVE HIM. HE CAN'T HANDLE THIS... HE'S SUCH A WEA-)) "Shut the f**k up." Robbie demands as he slides the rolling tray out from under the car and frowns at himself. "Don't you /dare/ talk about him that way." ((I'M RIGHT, BUT THAT- WHATEVER THAT IS. WE HAVE TO STOP IT.)) Eli warns and Robbie looks over to the car, seeing himself in the exposed blower in the top and his eye flares orange, the hellfire within starting to come out.

    Robbie reaches over to the jack and twists the handle, dropping the car to the ground quickly and without a word, the fires errupt from his shirt collar and the Ghost Rider scowls back in the chrome of the black charger.

    Tearing down the street towards the church in the Bronx. Fire trailing from all parts of the car. The tires, the exhaust, and the blower glows a burning orange, the super charger whinning as it powers the engine below on his way towards the disturbance.

    Outside the church, the car's brakes are slammed, and the rear end lifts up as the weight shifts heavily and the tires screach and stutter as the car turns, blocking several lanes of traffic as it stops in the middle of the street, the Rider looking towards Satana.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Can't a girl have a good meal without interruption?

This one came in hard. Fast. Experienced, obviously. Fortunately Satana had already fallen on her knees. And was quivering in a way that could be confused with fear. It's time to be a victim. Briefly.

Satana her face shaped in a rictus mask of fear falls over from her kneeling position, curling up around her hippo plushie, moaning and gibbering with feigned fright, quivering uncontrollably. "It was horrible! It came from the shadows! It was going to get me next, then ... it ... went away!"

A finger stabs into the darkness at the back of the church from the curled up gibbering ball on the floor.

Shit. Whatever that was that just came is ... packing a lot of punch. Get the do-gooder out of the way and perhaps its time to let discretion be the better part of valour.

Satana is, after all, a lover, not a fighter.

"It went back there!"

Then a thought crosses her mind. Set the do-gooder on the punch-packer. Slip away in the fracas.

"But I think it left 'cause I hear something outside!"

Satana looks up from her huddled mass on the floor. "Can you save me please? I'm FRIGHTENED!"

She'll let the mummified corpse nearby show why she's 'frightened'...

Atlin has posed:
The hoodie had been shrugged off, more-likely ripped. At some point she's either going to have to go back for the phone she left in the pocket or admit to having broken yet another one.

The jeans had survived, but with the upper half removed the figure-hugging Amazon armor that looked more like a one-piece swimsuit was partially on display.

Without her weapons the blonde was bare-handed, but that hardly mattered for an amazon.

Unaware of Robbie and his 'passenger's arrival, her eyes sweep past the huddled woman looking for the threat...but only for a moment before she shifts those amber eyes back.

The last demon Atlin had known (and dated, but that was a whole other thing) had a rather similar fashion sense. That wasn't damning enough, but the complete -lack- of that same fear she felt drawing her in radiating from Satana had Atlin frowning...and not moving.

"You're pretending to be scared," she speaks, accented tones echoing through the church.

"Who are you?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    The skinless skeleton climbs out of the car, black leather riding suit tight over ... skin and muscle that should be there on a normal human, but the metallic skeleton and the fires of hell fill out the clothes. The flames surrounding the skull lick up into the air, burning on nothing as the rider steps away from the car, leaving it running and with the door open.

    Stepping before the lights while walking towards the church, and pausing at the fence to takes in a breath and with a soul wrenching roar, fire errupts from the Rider's mouthless jaw, spewing flames hot enough to burn through the wood and chain links before he steps fowards, with a heavy fist smashing an entrance with a roar.

    Stopping at the woman on the ground, he snarls at her with a hiss while breathing in air and with a simple glance towards Atlin, the woman doesn't pose a threat, so he looks back to Satana quickly, "You're not a demon..." He snarls, wanting to know what she is exactly. Get a sense of what she is before he tries to put her down.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Whaddya mean she can't feel fear? There's fear aplenty when Robbie steps in, Ghost Rider outfit on and everything.

Satana scrambles the Hell AWAY from that entrance and actually cowers behind Atlin, clutching ineffectually at one leg. And there's certainly fear radiating from her now.

This was NOT the way things were supposed to work!

"It's going to hurt me!" she squeals from behind Atlin.

*sigh*

She's going to have to degrade herself for this. For verisimilitude.

Wincing inwardly she ... ugh ... "loses control" of her bladder. Let the scent of ammonia add to the reality of things. The ignomy of this ignites a spark of rage deep within. She's going to find whoever summoned that ... that ... thing and make him pay.

Or her. Her pay. Never assume.

Scrambling deeper into the church, Satana leaves off clutching at Atlin's leg and scrabbles on hands and knees through the broken pews and filthy floor into the darkness, weaving together in her mind all the things she needs for her continued safety and rapid exuent.

Yes. Exuent. This is not going to end tonight. Someone is going to pay. She LIKED this outfit!

Atlin has posed:
Okay, -that- was fear. To be fair, even Atlin, who had tangled with an Elder god once took a step back at the arrival of the Rider.

She didn't have her bow, manifesting the 'fire' didn't really seem like the best move instinctively, so she was left to raise her fists.

Because that seemed smart!

Attention turned from Satana to Robbie, the Amazon does her best to sound unphased.

"What are you creature?"

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    Black hollow eyes follow Satana as the woman-demon scurries around Atlin, soils herself, and then flees deeper into the church. The rider hasn't quite crossed the threshhold into the sanctuary just yet.

    "I am."

    With the fire flickering faintly, it boils over into a rich inferno, "Vengance."

    A hand lifts to point a gloved finger at Satana, "She is worse." Followed by a single step forward, stopping at the very entrance into the building. Eli hesitates, unsure if the church itself would have an effect on his abilities.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
OK, resource management time. A godling and a misguided demon going after its own kind. This was NOT what Satana had prepared for and she really did not want to waste her ace tonight. She had plans for that.

What ingredients did she need for this?

Earth. Easy. All over the place. A quick pass along the floor and her hand was covered with it.

Air. Air of a sinner, to be precise. Easy-peasy. She coughs on the dirt in her hand.

Water. Fuck. None of that...

*sigh*

"Really!?"

That burst out of her lips involuntarily.

More humiliation burned as she rubbed that hand down her thigh for the only water readily available. Someone was going to pay.

That leaves fire. Her speciality.

Inside the church light flares. Unholy light of baleful Hellfire. The ruin and depradation of decades of social and spiritual despair flares up in an umbral aura around Satana, who now stands, no hint of fear on her face, just anger.

In the astral and physical realms a bubble forms around her with her centre of mass at its geometric centre. From within it the Queen of Hell (well, her section of it anyway) grins.

"You couldn't just leave well enough alone, could you? Just let me have my meal of child molesting philanderer in peace. And now you've drawn my ire, demi-mortal and demon alike!"

That same flame she ignited her protective sphere with comes from her eyes and mouth in a wide stream, aimed at the atrium to fry its inhabitants.

Atlin has posed:
Well crap, she really should have trusted her instincts: Satana had her going there for a moment when Robbie had turned up, but now there were threats and hellfire coming her way from the 'victim'.

Wow, she was still bad at this character judging thing sometimes!

Apparently thinking herself outnumbered, under-armed and otherwise not properly equipped to deal with seemingly a pair of threats, Atlin coils down a simply leaps, diving for cover behind an abandoned church pew.

Of course, her apparent retreat didn't last long when that same cracked wooden seating was lifted and sent hurtling toward Satana's position.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    That's a neat trick.

    The Rider steps forward, stepping fully into the abandoned church and onto formerly sacred ground, it could still be, but the rider isn't sure of the rules about that, and it seems that the Hell Lord doesn't much care either way, and as such, why should the Ghost Rider?

    The Amazon leaps out of the way, and the Spirit of Vengance slams a foot down in defiance of Satana's attack and unleashes his own hellfire attack. The flames of his head flicker weakly, like the breath inhaled before a powerful scream, and the jaw of the metal skull lowers fully, and then his head errupts in flames, and the hellfire that sustains the rider's form flair out in a jet stream of magma like heat.

    Fighting fire with fire.

    The Ghost Rider doesn't know if this will even work, the creature moving on pure instinct. Eli knows she's bad, and Robbie is giving into his uncle's soul, fully, and expectantly, and to save Gabriel, and the woman behind the pew- the now flying pew. ((FIGHT HER!!!)) The two souls within a singular body tell themselves, when from behind there's a greater, inhuman, indemonic roar. The doors and the frame suddenly splinter open as the car comes barrelling through the church.

    The HellCharger screams through the doors, down the aisle, smashing pews and pillars alike as it charges as the Ghost Rider's back and ... passes right through him, or him through it, either way it goes through the rider and roaring engine and screaching tires aimed directly at Satana.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
She flinches. It's the truth. She does. Instinct and her human half make her duck pointlessly as the pew is thrown at her, shattering into spalling fragments, sending sharp pieces of rotten wood around the pews as her shield casually brushes it aside.

Cursing inwardly she restores the flames just in time to hit Robbie's head-on, each side stopping in the force of the other side.

But one side is a demon of vengeance while the other is a queen of Hell.

The meeting point slowly, fitfully, but certainly, moves toward Robbie, eliciting a feral grin of triumph from Satana. This was going to be easy to deal with, then that pesky godling...

The car. OK, that's a surprise.

The car passes through the Ghost Rider. Through the flames (getting some scarring from the heat: hellfire is hellfire). Hits the shield Satana put up like a pool cue hitting the white ball. Car stops in place. Ball of force goes flying, ripping a trench in the floor as it is knocked backward, carrying Satana inside it, rattling her around like a hamster in an exercise wheel, before it goes through the altar's remnants (destroying the work of months of awkard teenage 'satanists') and embedding itself in the stone wall behind it.

What's left of the stained glass window is blown out of its frame. Cracks start to form and spread in the stonework wall. And inside that sphere of protection, now noticably weaker than before, is the bruised and battered form of the Queen of Hell.

"Ballal. Destroy the neighbourhood."

Weak voice. Disorientated. But getting stronger. A hippo plushie is thrown out of the sphere to land in the trench. For a few beats of a heart nothing happens.

Then the shadow comes forth. A demonic visage with a face reminiscent of a hippopotamus, spewing out pure rage in a wave that can be practically felt as it roars its defiance, staring at Robbie and Atlin with beady, red eyes before charging ...

... out the stained glass window.

The Queen of Hell stands up, limping in a moment of weakness before forcing that shit down and staring haughtily at the pair.

"Ballal is a demon of rage. And I've just unleashed him in the neighbourhood. You can spend your time, your energy, and your resources in a futile attempt to take me down for eating ..." Her dismissive hand gestures at the now-toasted, dessicated corpse in the atrium. "... that ... SINNER. Or you can stop Ballal while I take my leave."

She tilts her head and regards the pair, paying special attention to Robbie as if remembering the soul for later reference.

"Make your choice wisely. Is the soul of a child molestor, a rapist, and a philanderer so important to your outraged sensibilities that you'll allow dozens to die to avenge him?" She crosses her arms in a display of arrogance. And of her body. Because, well, succubus. "Make your choice."

And she grins. Because she knows there is no choice. She will live to fight another day.

Atlin has posed:
Atlin...hadn't been sure what she was seeing at first. She'd expected to find herself facing two foes, but the 'demons' had turned on each other instead seemingly having forgotten the tanned blonde woman.

It had been enough to leave her with pause, unsure exactly where to stand in this fight.

....right up until a hippo demon was released out into the world.

There was a glare from the Amazon godling, a flare of wrathful fire fueled by hate that she didn't dare try to unleash before she turns towards the fleeing beast and takes off at an inhuman pace.

Satana wasn't going to face her wrath today, instead she was about to find out if she could beat a demon to death with her bare hands.

Hell, it sounded like something the 'Island Princess' had probably done, so she was going to try!

Robbie Reyes has posed:
    The car revs sharply and then the engine begins to idle at a rumble while the hippo grows larger and larger behind it, between Robbie and his car. The Rider should look towards Atlin to make sure she's okay, but the spirit is still very much an instinctual sort of beast.

    The hippo is fleeing out of the back, and the Rider is quickly following after it. He steps up onto the back of is car, and from the top of the trunk he leans forwards, hand on the rear side of the top, he vaults over the rest of the car and is going out the window to chase after the much more collateral damaging foe.

    On his way past a singular word is issued as a warning to the summoness.

    "Soon."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"Goodbye, Ballal. I had more important plans for you, but they'll have to wait until I summon you again. I guess sparing your queen some effort is worthy enough." Satana watches the heroes leave, narrowing her eyes at the 'demon' who dared to face off against HER. His QUEEN. (Well, different department, but still. Professional courtesy is a thing!)

Once the noise of mayhem and chaos faded off into the night she puts down the shield and the affectation. Shit, that HURT. She limps to a patch of ground, burning it clear of detritus before waving her arms and weaving her fingers just so. A little step sideways to time and she was gone.

Back at the hotel she shares with her plaything, she enters the door fuming. The imps, about to question her, catch her mood and scramble over each other in an attempt to stay out of her line of sight. Through the secret door she steps down into the cellar and her shared bedroom.

This was going to need a shower. Then a trip back down to her realm to find out why a demon of vengeance had been coopted against her. Next time she met this creature it was going to learn its place in the hierarchy...

The godling too. She was a problem. She was going to need some research.