Owner Pose
Daimon Hellstrom     Walking up to the main entrance, the door will be opened by Elizeth (blonde succubus) who bows and steps aside opening the door wide. "Welcome home, Mistress.", is offered in greeting and with a very submissive tone. Today, Elizeth wears a lovely negligee; red, long, revealing of her silk lace bra and thong. Her hair is perfect and tiny black horns pierce through her lateral forehead. Also with tail and in heels on regular feet.
Satana      "Yes, I imagine it's good to see me," the succubus says with a smirk. Sometimes power really can go to her head, or she just likes seeing what she can get away with. She hands off her bags, "Fold these all nicely and put them away in my room," she says as she strides into the house as if she owns the place. If she were a safe, where would she be...
Daimon Hellstrom     "Of course, Mistress. It will be my pleasure." She takes the bags from Satana and once the queen of the succubi has passed, Elizeth closes the door. Then she will dart away to take care of what is required of her.

    As for where the safe is, it's hard to know where to begin. There's so many nooks, crannies, rooms, and logical space to hide a vault. However, it's common practice to stick vaults on a bottom floor. That's a great place to start. https://imgur.com/itO8mJ3 .

    Naamen (redhead succubus) walks up with a tray and a glass of Satana's favorite alcoholic drink. "For you, mistress." and she offers.
Satana      A girl could get used to this kind of treatment. "Very good," she says of Naamen. A 'thank you' is hard to muster, but she can at least give some sort of positive praise, as one might a dog. Though it'd be more impressive if a dog had poured up this glass of wine. But a dog from hell, that'd be standard.

     Ad so, she casually begins her walk through the conservatory, as a path through there to the library and great room would be normal for her, her demonic eyes on the look out for anything that might serve as a push, pull, or press.
Daimon Hellstrom     Satana finds all sorts of things that look like they could be triggers to open up secret spaces. So many books are pulled, sconces twisted, tilted, lifted, yanked, and in frustration, a mess is made when she rips a fixture off a wall. Still, with no avail. No vault is found.

    Daimon walks into the room wearing a dapper business suit of black with the tiny golden pentagram on the lapel. He looks around at the disheveled scene, his disheveled sister, and the mess made. Then he says, "Darling sister, what has gotten you in such a destructive mood? Might I help soothe your savage soul?"
Satana      The look she shoots him is more akin to a hyena feasting on a carcass than of a delicate, elegant woman, if only for a moment. Her enhanced eyesight even produces an animal glow, a light reflection at home in the eyes of predatory creatures.

     And then she's back to her seductive self, all in an instant. Polished. "Mm, perhaps just a passing mood," says she. "When one has servants, is their purpose not to tidy up following such a thing?"
Daimon Hellstrom     "They were waiting on your mood to pass. Fear motivated them to steer clear. They hide in the other room waiting till it would pass." Daimon looks around once again and asks, "Still, I ask; Might I be able to assist you?"

    He moves to the bar to pour more drinks, yet keeping her in clear sight.
Satana      "Good, keeping them just on the brink of fear is my job," Satana says. "They're atoning for... something, I'm sure," she says, her own glass of booze having been left on a table. She picks it up and continues her trek around the room. "Mm, well. Assist me... perhaps. I need to store a few things. Quite secret. Is there room to install a vault?"
Daimon Hellstrom     An eyebrow is lifted, "Of course there is. Just like our Fire Lake home. A vault that is hidden and secure from prying eyes and sticky fingers." He pauses, looks her over and smiles, "Is that what you have been searching for? You realize, had you even found it, it would be locked."
Satana      "Maybe," she says, drink in hand as she watches him, eyes analyzing every expression. She looks around the room... it certainly is a mess. "I should probably summon the girls in here to clean up," she decides as she steps over a few things.
Daimon Hellstrom     Daimon smiles, nods, and says, "Come, sister. I will take you to the vault." He walks her from the grand room through the secret door into the Necromanteion. As they leave, the succubi enter the grand room to clean up.

    He moves to one of the wall stones and puts his hand upon it. Symbols in a circle appear around his hand, they glow magically and begin to rotate - as if it's a combination lock. Yet, it's pretty clear that it's keyed to his energy. When the circular motion stops, the symbols fade and the floor of the Necromanteion shifts and circular stone stairs fall away into the darkness below. Below, within the darkness, torches come to life.
Satana      Hm. Tricky. But safe, ideally. She watches as the stairs appear, as the torches come to light. So trusting that it almost makes her sick. She lets him lead, nervous that somehow, in some way, they are still being followed. "Very dramatic," she says in approval as they descend. He's making this rather easy for her.
Daimon Hellstrom     Daimon smirks and states, "I wouldn't have it any other way. Though, the labor costs in this alone were quite daunting. Luckily I have an army of demons to do my bidding." He walks down the stone stairs. They enter a 10' wide hallway with various columns on either side. They are carved in horrific visages of gore, death, blood, and so on. Satana can tell that they are magical and 'defensive' in nature. At the end of the 30' length, she will see a vault door that is one of the most secure doors she's ever seen. Not since Fire Lake has there been anything so present in defense magic. He says with a hand gesture toward the 10' tall vault door, "And here we have it. Behind that door are artefacts, relics, treasures, and items in which mortals, nor anything else, should possess."

    He doesn't seem like he's going to open the door.
Satana      She can tell just how much work went into this grand design, admiring the handiwork. "Mmm, yes. Very secure, I'm sure," she says, looking at the vault door, the massive amount of magic that ebbs and flows from it. "I thik we should do inside, and I think we should continue our conversation in there," the succubus says, gazing at the full 10' height of the impressive door.
Daimon Hellstrom     Daimon quirks as he asks, "Oh? Is that so? Sister. You and I both know that's not the best of ideas for either of us. While I desire to trust you and our newly reformed relationship, it's best that we take baby steps. We are keenly aware of one another's natures, desires, and impulses. We are creatures of habit and instinct."
Satana      "It just seems... safer to..." she keeps looking around. The wards of this house are strong, else someone else would already be in here. "We are. We are creatures of many things. I..." This is hard. "If I tell you this, you mustn't over react in any direction," she says, not waiting for an answer. "Father sent Agathon with a request. That there's a Crystal of Souls somewhere in your possession that he'd like."
Daimon Hellstrom     He feigns surprise with a coy smile, "No?! That's so hard to believe that Father would dare try and twist his daughter's need for a father's love in his favor or to his own mechanizations. Our Father is above that transgression."

    But Daimon's words are hollow and making light of the situation. Then he asks, "And had you found the vault, were able to penetrate it, would you have taken the Crystal of Souls?"
Satana      "Yeah, like he doesn't try to do it constantly," she says with a roll of her eyes. "I was honestly hoping to just not find it at all and never tell you, but here we are," she says with a very deep sigh. Drama runs in the family, it seems. "Well. Or I might've eaten it, were that an option. Absorbed it. If possible." Honesty is a foundation of trust, right?
Daimon Hellstrom     He envisions her trying to swallow the crystal, and he smirks. He relays his thoughts, "I do hope your oral skills do not involve swallowing something the size of an American football." He waits a tick before adding. "All of that aside. I appreciate you sharing this information with me. I've always hoped that you would get away from Father's influence - for every time you enter one of his schemes, you are betrayed and often injured - emotionally, physically, or both. We, you and I, we can do better. And I hope that we can move forward from this with not only a better understanding; but coming out with a better relationship. It has been so long, so much water between us. Which is why I had hopes of building a bridge, so that we can meet on equal, and solid footing."
Satana      "Daimon, do you really want to know what- nevermind," she laughs. "No, no you do not." But at least now she knows how big it is. "But it does seem to always backfire on me whenever I do as father wishes," she admits. "And perhaps I'm simply tired of that. I want my own things," she says, sounding a touch petulant at that realization. "I do have to give him *something,* though. Or else I'll never be able to shop in peace."
Daimon Hellstrom     Daimon nods, understandingly, then he notes, "Suppose we try and get you your /own/ things? As I did when I led the rebellion against Father. Doing that gave me my own parcel of Hell and many other /things/. Perhaps you would be keen on coming up with a plan of our own - starting with giving him what he wants. Or at least what he thinks he wants. The Crystal. It can be drained and repopulated with other /souls/."
Satana      "I would like my own things, particularly my own little slice of Hell," the succubus considers. "Though I suppose he should think that I stole or tricked you out of that particular item, yes?" she says as she looks at that imposing door. "Is the Crystal all chock full of souls at present, or does it need to be stuffed before we send it back?" she asks, a smile on her pretty red lips.
Daimon Hellstrom     Daimon grins as he shakes his head reading her desires for a soul sucking satisfaction, "The soul within the crystal is that of Ivan the Terrible. Father likely wants it for a power play. As you know, Souls are the currency of the celestial; divine, and infernal. Father is likely wishing to trade away the soul for something of value, to him. The soul can be transferred to another container, but to expedite this, it's best I hold the soul in my realm while we exchange Ivan's soul with a cluster of souls or find another of equal strength." (Souls gain strength when they do glorious or horrific things while in the mortal realms.)
Satana      "Malicious compliance is one of my favorite tactics. So we send Ivan packing to your realm, stuff it with the equivalent weight, so to speak, and I deliver it with my limited instruction that only the Crystal need be given over to Father-- not aware of contents. Though it would be delightful to fill it with little bitty souls. Almost like paying a debt in pennies," she chuckles. Oh yes, very evil.
Daimon Hellstrom     Daimon nods, "That shall be the plan. Give me 24 hours to facilitate the exchange." and he begins walking toward the stairs to take him back up to the Necromanteion. "Come sister; let us find food. I'm sure you're famished from all of the scheming. As am I."