7888/Satana and the Blakes

Satana and the Blakes
Date of Scene:	19 September 2021
Location:	The Wick
Synopsis:	Vampires, demons, bikers, and a feral human, having some drinks.
Cast of Characters:	Blake Riviere, Satana Hellstrom, Thomas Blake

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Blake Riviere has posed:
The Wick, wax and candlelight intermingled with the scent of alcohol. A little refuge tonthose who loved the dark ambiance and the fantasy or shelter it could offer.

Blake herself rested in the corner booth, her form wrapped in the black skirts and leather underbust corset of the fashion style she'd come to appreciate.

One hand lazily drumming on her her thigh clad in deep red stockings that matched the ribbons tied into her hair, deep blue eyes lazily surveyed the other patrons.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"Oh my! Isn't this absolutely delicious!?" Satana enthuses as she enters the club, dressed in 'gothic' style--presuming you consider Elvira, Mistress of the Dark to be gothic.

The notes are all there. Long slinky black gown. Makeup made up to have her seem unnaturally pale with shadows enhanced to give an almost gaunt look to her face.

But the slits in the gown that go up higher than her hip (revealing that if she's wearing undergarments at all they're very much slingshot style) kind of deviate from the ideal gothic look. As does the neckline that plunges to the bellybutton (revealing that she is definitely not wearing upper undergarments.

The blood red hair is a nice touch, though, especially as it is decorated with black satin ribbon bows whose ends stream down along with the hair.

"Why this place is so dark it's like ... what's the darkest place you can imagine? And the answer is this. This dark."

Which, of course, she says in a loud enough voice to catch the attention of all, complete with the bimboish mannerisms to make her stand out. Because attention is what she uses to hunt, after all.

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake enters carrying his kit bag (ha) and wearing his roughed up leather jacket. He regards his girlfriend looking like the bastard child of Peggy Bundy and Svengoolie with a slight smirk. One sneeze and the show will be on for all these goths and vampire wannabes. Top hats, leather, ribbons, chains. Apparently it's Goth night. Wait...

"Excuse me a minute, honey. I know that vamp," he whispers to Satana. He grabs a server and sends a bottle of wine to Blake's table, gives her a wave and then returns to hold a chair for Satana. The chair would, no doubt, consider itself fortunate.

Blake Riviere has posed:
Any other setting, that 'outing' might not have been appreciated. After all, there were some out there who didn't really appreciate beings that fed on humans. Here though? It was likely to be thrown away as merely a fashion choice. Even so, the words earn a raise of her brow and a turn of her head before the bottle arrives at her table. She heard him it seems.

Lifting herself from her seat, Blake moves across the room with a confidence to her steps that was downright feline, one hand lazily intercepting her wine bottle brought to her and setting it down as she approaches the pair.

"Ah Thomas, I see your choice of company has improved...at least astheticly," her words carrying those French tones, the vampiress shifts her gaze to Satana. "Unless, of course, you're here to kill him."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"What? Kill Thomas?" Satana looks incredulously at Blake, then at Thomas, then back at Blake. "Who would prepare my pancakes in the mornings?"

Because that, of course, is what matters. Entirely.

"Besides, I don't kill anybody." Satana's smile creeps over her face, one eyebrow raising to turn it into an expression of pure, wanton wickedness. "I was made for loving, not fighting."

The seat beneath her, were it a) gender-compatible, and b) capable of speech would be agreeing enthusiastically and thoroughly.

"You're different than the other one I've met. Less ..." She forms her hand in the shape of a gun and makes pow-pow noises. "... shooty." Without her eyes leaving Blake she addresses Thomas. "I like this one. You've met before you say?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake catches at Blake's hand for a moment and smiles. "Improved... oh, those gentlemen from Zandia. Yes improved incredibly. Blake Reviere, this is Satana Hellstrom, my sweetest sin. Blake helped me with some gentlemen who were disagreeable. I couldn't let them have their way and deprive you of pancakes. Blake please join us. The drinks are on me." He winks.

Blake Riviere has posed:
"Sweetest sin?" Blake repeats, indeed lowering herself into another seat across from the pair. "I did not take you for a poet Thomas, but this must be the Succubus you spoke of at our last meeting," A look down, a slower look up the other woman's from and she shrugs her shoulders. "Perhaps I should have guessed immediately, no?"

The bottle of wine is pushed lightly towards Thomas, a light tilt of her head towards glasses suggesting he should pour them some drinks.

"Ah...'Shooty'? A woman with white hair and an accent similar to mine, or another?"

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"This one dresses in tight black leather, wears guns...oh, that reminds me, Thomas, I've been working on a gun so she can feed me when she kills her enemies, so if you see me suddenly...ah...'faint', let's call it, don't worry...and has a particular hatred of werewolves."

Beat.

"She looks good in the leathers. Very nice form. Unfortunately she's a cold fish, or I would have her in my collection so quickly..." She shakes her head. "Oh, wait, Thomas spoke of me?"

The smile she darts Thomas' way is positively beatific. Which does not go well with the infernal nature of her features and demeanour. "That's so nice, Thomas. I didn't realize you spoke of me with others!"

Curiosity fills her face as she turns to Blake again. "I do hope he told you the truth about me: that I'm the worst being you're ever likely to encounter. I do so hate it when people hear good things about me and then see the truth." Pause. "No, that was the wrong word. I positively adore it when people think I'm nice and then see the truth. Ignore me."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake smiles. "You can be nice, very nice indeed. It just isn't your go to. Sometimes you just need reminding. I said what you were after Blake outed herself. I wanted her to know I was not judgmental."

Thomas is interrupted by an apologetic server. He sets a bottle of bourbon on the table and says, "Those... gentlemen in the biker leathers sent this for the ladies Mr. Blake... I should have said 'no' but, I'm not paid enough to."

As the server departs Thomas says, "Excuse me. I want a word with those monkeys. I'll save you both some." He gives Satana a kiss and a grope, eying the bikers before hefting his kit bag and sauntering over.

Blake Riviere has posed:
"Not Ariah then," she speaks lazily, a little tsk of sadness in her voice. "A shame, she seems to have wandered afar for the moment, such is our nature." Trailing off, she nods, giving a little laugh. "But I have heard of this one that you speak of, a 'cousin' of sorts."

Moving on, the dark-haired vampiress tilts her head to the side and then giggling as Thomas sets off. "Yes, in the context of proclaiming his...fortitude."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"Oh, this is the part I enjoy! Thomas is so much fun to watch in action!" Satana leans forward in interest as she watches the bikers, winking at one of them and licking her lips. Get him all hot and bothered before Thomas dismantles him.

"I hope he leaves me with enough to feed. Those two reek of sin. They'll be delicious!"

Her eyes turn to Blake momentarily. "So do you, but you have no soul left for me to claim. Someone else has dominion over yours..."

Then her eyes are back on the bikers and Thomas, watching with predatory eagerness.

"What are the rules on feeding here when the prey practically throws itself at you? Take it outside?"

Thomas Blake has posed:
At the bikers' table Thomas wastes no time but approaches their leader, a hulking brute about five inches taller than him. The biker gets up.

Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb.

Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb Gotham? Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb Gotham. Arkham.

Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb. Thomas nods agreement and lifts his shirt revealing his eight pack, then the three jagged scars on a well proportioned chest.

Rhubarb rhubarb so sorry!! Thomas is offered a chair, a biker chick and a drink in that order. He sits down and they begin chatting. He shoots Satana a look and a thumbs up.

Blake Riviere has posed:
A little turn in her seat and the french-accented 'Draculina' shifts to watch the group 'talking,' a slight glance out of the corner of her eye back to Selene as she continues talking, a little shift on the spot as they continue chatting. "I have a soul," she speaks perhaps a little too sharp in her tones and a hint of luminescent red behind those irises. "It simply took me a very long time to reclaim it, and it is tied only to my 'child'. Not something I would barter for pleasures that almost certainly pale..."

Topic shifts and her eyes follow, a shrug of her shoulders given. "Take it somewhere private, and try not to leave a mess. Bodies around a crowd like this draw police quicker than most."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana frowns at the sudden amicable interaction. "Why do I never get my fun!?" she mutters to herself, eyes lighting momentarily before she calms herself.

"It is, as I said, not for me to claim. I didn't say you had none. I said it was beyond my reach."

Then that sullen face softens and turns more back to its seductive form. "But the pleasures ... they can exist without the soul consumption," she adds with a wink.

The sigh of an eternal sufferer.

"Let's go join the boys. I'm probably going to be told I can't eat any of them."

Thomas Blake has posed:
Thomas Blake spots Satana approaching. He pats Iggy on the back... then grabs him by his ratty ponytail and slams his head on the table. It is done fast, no one nearby seems to notice. In fact people are studiously avoiding the biker gang. The boss rubs his forehead, tries to synchronize his eyes and ventures a grin.

"Now we're good Iggy, Satana sweetmeat... this is Iggy and his crew. It turns out this big gorilla and I did time together in Gotham. He even worked with a couple of my... peers. TAKE YOUR FUCKING DO-RAGS off for the ladies you morons, or I'll mark the lot of you." Oddly, despite the convention in capitalization he doesn't say it very loudly. The gang complies, including Iggy. As he does so a pentagram tattoo is revealed on the back of his hand.

Similar symbols are on their clothes and a part of their colors it seems. Thomas gives Iggy's ink a glance and then beams at Satana, waiting for the praise, or the bloodletting.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
"Well aren't THESE absolute darlings!" Satana enthuses, oozing animal attraction like Thomas oozes sweat in a sauna. "The pentagrams? Just decoration or ..." She bites her lips as if trying to contain arousal. The human animal is so easy to manipulate even without mental domination. "... is this something you believe in?"

Her expectant look. She's hoping they believe. Or at least this is what she signals.

"I dabble a bit myself with those ... beings. Maybe we could ..." She practically slithers into Iggy's lap while giving his lieutenant a good view of the shadows behind the slits in her gown. "... pair up." That smile grows wide. Inviting. And to anybody with an ounce of self-preservation, predatory. Only the human male is not prone to self-preservation when a human-seeming female is so willingly making herself available to eye and hand.

"Let's crack this bottle you so thoughtfully gave us open and drink and see where..." Eyelashes flutter. That genteel blush. The caught breath. Webs being spun. "... the evening leads us."

Thomas is spared a darting glance, then the moll in his lap. She nods in approval and thanks both.

"Oh, where ARE my manners. I'm Satana Hellstrom." That smile grows wider. "And I really like strong, brave, muscular men."

Thomas gets another glance and an amused press of her lips. That's probably the only honest thing she's said to the bikers ... and they're really about her pancake maker.