Owner	Pose
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon Hellstrom never looked better. He'd lost a year. His hair was crisp and bright, each strand where it ought to be. His eyes glowed like embers in a dying fire. His skin was flawless, a tranlucent top layer giving way to hidden bronze tones that peaked up through the pale. There was a reason for all this, he had recently died. In fact he'd been missing a few days after a massive explosion had taken him out, forced him back down below, where he'd waited until being reconsituted. Now, glowing in his new body, looking about as dashing and alluring as he could possibly look, he had a knit brow and a serious case of resting bitch face. He looked impatient, he held his drink like he was deliberately keeping it from an appointment, but refused to drink it. As if to say to his drink "Fuck you, you arent going anywhere, so sit in my hand and shut up."
Riley Black	Riley it turns out actually seems to have some sort of wardrobe, though perhaps not a terrifically diverse one. A neat black skirt, neat black short sleeve blouse and a simple black hankerchief tied up over her hair. The Snake skin jacket doesn't help move things forward either, and indeed it's distinctly tacky western vibe died -hard- back in the 70's thank god. With her jacket over the seat back however it does offer a rare opportunity to see the sea of writhing snake scales and flower petals adorning both arms.     As she returns to her seat only to find they've slid another one of those strange black cherry vodka things to her, much to her excitement. "They had fucking cigarette vending machines."She offers in barely a whisper, sliding a pack of Gitanes across the table towards Daimon. What's fancier than french cigarettes, well Riley hasn't the foggiest but she's perfectly content to stuff a pair of soft packs in her jacket pocket before unwrapping a fresh one. Might be a record incidentally, that was like twenty minutes without a smoke and she wasn't driving?
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon Hellstrom says, "Did you know that the island nation of Japan has twenty three vending machines per citizen?" Daimon offered with indignant annoyance. "I guess that works out to one for each tentacle.""
Riley Black	"I like vending machines, less social interaction is a good thing most of the time. Their puritanical nonsense ruins everything though, same reason we don't have beer vending machines."Pausing to light up her own cigarette, before offering the zippo over so Daimon doesn't have to use a match book like poor people. "Always blame the vice, never the weakness."And a pause for that first drag and a little roll of the shoulders. "Though shit chief you should have seen prohibition, it was -glorious-. Everyone was so eager to fall to sin, smooth talker like you could've got the key to the city."
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon gave Riley and undeserved foul glance. "You cleaned up nice." he admitted. "What the fuck is that jacket though." he said bursting into a harsh, albeit amused laugh.
Riley Black	The question gets a pensive look for a moment, before clearing her throat. "You wanna hear a story?"She offers, taking another slow drag off her cigarette. "The Jacket has sentimental history, for New york anyway."
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon waved his glass at Riley vaguely, in an attempt to prompt her further.
Riley Black	"Back in I wanna say seventy three I was making bank driving coke up to chicago from Mexico city, and make no mistake the money was huge. Every run we would make more money than we knew what to do with, I mean towards the end of that run the problem became we made so much so fast you couldn't wash it. We had a whole fucking self storage place bought out where we just stored bundles of cash, until the rats nibbling at the stacks got too bad. I had my first gen Rattler back then, and could do the whole fuckin run in one stop."Pausing to take a slow drag of her cigarette. "Had a great little farm with a nice barn full of spare parts, tires and race fuel half way. I was making about two and a half mil a week, which I mean this was 73' that was incredible."     "James Dance was the fucker's name, and he wanted in. He was some kinda bigshot up here, dressed himself up like it was gunsmoke even though he was from Jersey. Talked shit about my accent never the same, trying to tell me how I'm only making chump change. Just absolute worthless fuck from start to finish yeah, and well when I told him to fuck himself he couldn't take none of it. So he had a big fat cry about it, and he broke the golden fuckin rule."Riley pauses a moment to ash her cigarette and snag her glass before reclining. "Dropped the dime on me, gave the cops two other whole operations we had fuck all to do with. Lost the barn, lost our primary buyer in Chicago. I was stacking cash in a eighteen wheeler so fast and for so long I gave myself a fucking heart attack, fucking -died- and had to go possess somebody brand new just to go load cash. My back hurt so bad it felt like gravel anytime I tried to stand up straight."     "So fuck's dead right, I mean he has to fuckin -go- right?"
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon Hellstrom shrugged once, non comittally. "So what happened?" as he prompted her once more.
Riley Black	"I pinched him, took him to a walk in freezer owned by a guy I knew. Took a small cold rolled chisel and an eight ounce tack hammer, very very slowly and with -very- many blows I turned his skeleton into gravel. Then I juiced him up, skinned him alive, chewed the eyes out of his face, burned everything he had and took his coat."Pausing for a slow sip of her glass. "I stayed in town a little bit, leaked some pictures to the papers just to make sure it made front page. This jacket was kind of his trademark, so I made sure to hit up all the places he used to run wearing it. Now when I roll around New York sometimes I pop it on, sometimes I catch somebody who knows who it used to belong to. Then I know, that they know and that simplifies things. You'd be surprised how many will sign a contract just for me to never hurt them.."
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon Hellstrom says, "Well, you ended on a better note. Fuck around, find out?" Daimon admitted, shifting into a long lean slouch and shoving his hand under the rim of expensive suit pants to rest. "I suppose its my turn to tell a story. Thats how this works right?" but then he went silent for a moment and seemed to forget his presumed obligation. "This new body is a virgin. Bet you didnt know your body could be a virgin when your mind is decidedly less pristine. When I find out who did this to me, the inconveniance of thirteen year old body horror will be the first revenge I visit upon them." he said, seeming to take lazy delight in this notion. "I bet I can balefire every sexual memory out of someones mind.""
Riley Black	"Naw I'm playing passenger, remember boss? I don't have the juice to manifest myself in the mortal plane without an anchor, I'm no joke possessed."One of many reasons Demons of Riley's low born status don't usually come up to the surface, they -can't-. "You got any idea why somebody snapped you in the first place, I mean is there a whole thing going on I should be on the look for or was this sort've business as usual for you?"
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon glances to an attendant, non-verbal communication seems to occur and Diamon nods sending the attendant down the levels presumambly toward the entrance to escort a guest back up to them; its somewhat difficult to get into this room any other way.
Patsy Walker	An invitation, to none other than the Hellfire Club. Patsy was immediately suspicious. Anything with the name 'Hellfire' or even just 'Hell' as part of it got her guard up. But, with you-know-who extending the offer, there wasn't much to do but go there. She came in her usual, nice enough attire if a bit better for a place like this, featuring a few blacks, yellows, and similar shades in the form of a shirt and coat along with pants that fit loose down around the ankles, along with flats. An attendant brings her up to the room.
Riley Black	Is the young pale thing looking like a gothy rockabilly reject with an awful snakeskin jacket, cigarette dangling between her lips as she nurses her cowboy killer along. Those big browns swiveling over to lock onto Patsy, mute for a few moments before leaning back to flag down a waitress. Finger pointed after Patsy, as she pushes her smokes and that "Christian fellowship 94" zippo forward into what might be otherwise described as 'neutral territory'.
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon Hellstrom was reclined in his seat in the booth, a savage slouch, one hand slid into the band of his dress pants the other propped on the table holding a glass of something he refused to sip. He seemed as if he was drifting from a state of agitation into a state of peaceful apathy. In this state of repose his demonic attributes shown more truely than they might have otherwise, though he rarely did much to hide them. He was newly minted in mortal form, his body was pristine, still had that new car smell. "Ayyy." he said to herald Hellcats arrival, "Now I can tell the story to an audience."
Patsy Walker	Patsy Walker holds up a hand, a simple declining of what Riley is offering. "Nah. Haven't you heard? Surgeon General says those things'll kill ya." Ironic. "I'm Patsy. Didn't know there was going to be someone else." Here, she gives Daimon a good, long look, her eyes sharp on the man and his posture over at the booth. "To what do I owe the displeasure of this invite? Oh, it's story hour again? I got here /just/ in time." She's being sarcastic. Clearly.
Riley Black	"'owdy Patsy, right pleasure."She slides her seat back some, making one more inhale as she snuffs her perfectly good cigarette out and blows the smoke aside. "I don't know what they call them, but they've been keeping me lubricated with these vodka cherry things all night. You want me to fetch you one?"
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon curled a little snarl of a smile and retorted with "Don't worry Patsy, I will fairly assess both of you, and fuck the one of you with the least number of flaws." but he seemed to forget his story in again in favor of this salacious response. He sighed patiently, "RI-ley." he said, his voice rising and falling, "You dont...sigh...you dont fetch your own drinks here. They will bring you a still beating heart on a fucking platter if you ask them to, just...ugh, please dont be so pedestrian tonight. Okay? Pretend, for me, please."
Patsy Walker	"With charm like that, how can anyone resist?" Patsy wonders aloud, rolling her eyes. If she ought to express fear, there's no sign of it right now. One might gather she's Seen Things. She levels a longer look on Riley, as if sizing her up, then she shrugs. "I was thinking a red wine. French Pinot Noir." A sharp glace Daimon's way. "And don't try to get them to trick me with blood. I wasn't born yesterday." She doesn't sit anywhere, not yet. Instead, she leans against something, arms crossed.
Riley Black	"Sorry boss."But yeah, she's a Demon which means she knows on a damn near instinctual level how much she can get away with before she -actually- gets into trouble. Still she twists around, snapping at a waitress to pass along an order for -white- wine. "Red without red meat at your age, it'll make your liver turn black and that'll be the end of that. You have to keep to lighter wine unless you're staying for dinner, pretty thing like you has to take care of herself. Your youth is fleeting, of course."
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon offered to Patsy, "I think thats Vampire stuff, if I get you to drink blood its usually ritualized healing, or like...corruption for using dark portals. Anyway Ms. Walker, I actually like you, thats why you're here so All Wine Will Be Wine <tm>. This is Riley, my girl Friday. She knows cars and the drug trade, beyond that you'll have to explore on your own. You can sit in her lap if you want. Or in the booth beside me, whichever place you feel more appreciated." this time his demeanor was jovial, he was still harrasing her but it was more artful and less antagonistic. "So I pulled a soul out of long term storage a while back." he began, and then paused to see if anyone was interested.
Patsy Walker	Patsy Walker holds up a finger, an impatient one. "No, I said red and that's what I'll be having." She makes a point of ignoring Riley long enough to ask Daimon, "Who is that and why does she think it's her place to tell me what I can have here? Riley, is it?" Back to the aforementioned 'girl Friday.' "Let's not try to speak for me again, Riley, okay? Thanks in advance." There is, for just a moment, a /very/ ice cold tone to her words, then she tucks it away as if it was never there. "I don't really care about cars or drugs, so it doesn't sound like we'll be making small talk over any of that. I do detective work, myself." And she remains where she is. No sitting on anybody's lap, no booth. "I've heard 'long term' can mean different things if you're talking about where I think you're talking about."
Riley Black	The slow inhale, followed by the slow exhale. "Apologies my dear, no offense meant."Pausing to sip after her own drink a moment. "You'll have to forgive me, it's been so long since I flexed my fangs socially that I've forgotten how seriously you all take having your way."Though with that she simply sinks back into her seat to let that fall wherever it made. "I did drugs, but well every slinger on a street corner thinks himself a regular Al Capone. Absolutely exhausting, I'm sure a detective of your caliber has delt with more than a few yourself yes?"     "You could consider me partially retired from crime, now I just try to think my little corner of the underworld somewhat respectable."Glass raised in mute salute for a moment. "Though if you need a hand, I'd be happy to make up my gaff up to you no strings."
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon looked on dripping with cringe, "Oh Riley, just shut up. Shut....stop...shutup st..st....zip it." as she was talking. "You dont have a relationship to repair. Hell I DONT have a relationship with her to repair. Can we all just listen to my damn story? For fucks sake its like a Prince of Hell can't even hold court in the Hellfire club anymore."
Patsy Walker	Poor Daimon, playing second fiddle to the Patsy and Riley Show right now. She waves off the apology, but says, "Honey, I've been in and around social circles for years now." Not nearly as long as the true Riley, which she doesn't know about yet. "Yeah, I've seen a lot, there and out on the streets tailing a case." "But," she goes on, "Nobody's partially retired from crime. Either you are or you aren't. There's no in-between. I can't think of anything you need to make up, though. You already said you were sorry. I think he wants to get back to his story." Patsy jerks a thumb in Daimon's direction, no-selling his annoyance, amusing as it may be. For now. That could turn on a dime.
Riley Black	Might like to argue the point, but Daimon snapping at her is entirely sufficient to silence her there and then. She just gives a soft "hmmm" and reclines with her drink, eyes half lidding as she somewhat checks out. See turns out they don't have labor unions in hell, so it's not exactly like she can complain to anyone about the Son of Satan himself. She'll feel better after curling up with some icecream, whiskey and her korean soap operas.
Daimon Hellstrom	"So I pull THIS SOUL OUT OF long term storage. Turns out its this woman, murdered in a brothal by assasains." Diamon begins.     "Originally she was bethrothed into an arranged marriage with a young man from a family who was very close to some monarch at the but they didnt have much money, but her family did. The young man didnt much care for marriage, turns out he liked boys better. So basically what he did was, he went to the parents overseeing the marriage and browbeat them into putting in a virginity clause. If she was 'spoiled' before their wedding day, the marriage would be called off and some portion of the money would be forfeit."     Daimon smirked, "Appearantly this kind of shit was normal back then, but you can see where this is going." he glanced to his drink again, but only swirled it. "So what he does right, is he gets her loaded, fucks her brains out...this is all during bethrothal period...he does this several times. She thinks, ok this is going to be a good marriage, he really likes me."     Daimon raised a finger, "But, wouldnt you know it, at the crux, he claims that shes spoiled; even goes so far as to say he is the one who spoiled her, and asks for the parachute out of the contract. On the side, they suspect he offered half the money to the magistrate, they rule in his favor. Boom. No wedding, huge sum of gold changed families. Her family is livid. They send her to a brothal to 'work off' the debt. It becomes evident, rapidly, that she is of course with child. His child."     Daimon smiles, because he loves this part. "What does she do? She spends 9 years prepping this kid to kill his father. 9 years of setting his mind to it, getting him the training and mentors. Shes will eventually send him out into the world, not a boy, but an arrow fired from her bow across decades into the heart of the man who betrayed her. The father, now, high up in the towers, with her families money, and his influence catches wind of her plot. He sends assasains to kill them both. The boy hides under the bed."     Daimon leans forward, "He watches them brutalize his mother, she dies on the floor beside him, bleeds out while he hides under the bed. They never find him. He lives. He joins a band of revolutionaries, they tattoo his fingers with oaths. He earns their trust, and years and years later, he takes this band of murders and theives, and he kills his father and hangs the body from the castle wall, in view of his Queens bed chamber."     Daimon leaned back in awe, "And you know what this sould told me when I pulled her out and offered her a new lease? She said no, put me back. I did what I came to do."
Patsy Walker	By now Patsy is happier. She has her glass of red, red wine. Whether there will be a meal to go with it, or at least afterward, that's the uncertain part. She sips while Daimon goes into his story, and for the most part she actually lets him go on uninterrupted. There is a feigned yawn or two, a few glances Riley's way at her attire, but more importantly her in general. She shakes her head at whatever it might be, reaching up to rub her eyes. "Oh, I think I might have talked to that one," she deadpans, in such a matter-of-fact way that it couldn't possibly be a lie, could it? "Unless you just took part of that from O-Ren Ishii's story in 'Kill Bill' and made up the rest to go along with it. Either way, well done. Very vivid. I could picture the whole thing as it played out."
Riley Black	Theres a nod of her head, she was around when families still did such nonsense. "Never underestimate the mortal heart's capacity for self sacrifice at the alter of revenge, provides for a powerful clarity."Sipping after her vodka-cherry-whatever for a moment, and letting that settle. "Half the souls I put on the hook do it purely out of wounded pride, desperate to avenge the loss of image. You'd expect folks would 'sober up' come the next day, try to beg off or take it back?"Theres a shrug there.     "Never, they never come back. I usually even put in an escape clause, just to keep things civil so we don't involve the church and get the whole circus involved. Nope, never come back to me. Never go grab a priest, they just let it fly until the very end."And a little faint shrug there. "Humans almost always die with clenched fists though, ready to say whatever it takes to get another moment. Rare to have somebody just, accept it."
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon Hellstrom rumbled with a low chuckle in his languid state of repose. "A well told lie is oft more impressive." He turned his drink upsidedown on the table, sealing it there without spilling a drop, such that eventually someone would have to move the thing and make a mess. Then he seemed to lose interest in the pair as he salaciously fingered a small inconsistency in the wall of the booth.
Patsy Walker	The Son of Satan might not like it, but Patsy's attention diverts over to Riley once again as she speaks of soul-related matters. It all makes sense, suddenly. "So this is making me wonder about something. You don't seem very powerful. Yeah, you're a demon. It makes sense now. You'd have to be if you're dealing with souls. You must be pretty low on the totem pole, though." Blue-gray eyes drift from Riley back over to Daimon. "And you don't have to worry about forgetting any details if you tell it to someone who's never heard it before. You know, as long as you aren't under oath or anything. Not that I think it would have any impact on you unless you were dealing with pacts and agreements. Find something captivating over there?" Sip. She's picking at something as well, after a fashion.
Riley Black	"Not everyone in Hell dreams of ruling the world, some of us just don't much care for the neighborhood."She gives a simple plaintive little shrug after that, letting it hang for a moment as she sips her drink. "I'm just a blue collar girl tryna make a living, just turns out sometimes that means I gotta make a killing."     "I mean I suppose I'm flattered if you thought I could pull down a Royal much less the second in line for the throne, but yeah I'm just the help honey."Gesturing off towards Daimon with her glass. "Just his bad luck he has to put up with a driver as uncool as I am."
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon Hellstrom says, "I was just thinking if I took her soul and put it into your body..." he offered, glancing to Patsy "I'd finally have the perfect wife." and then before any sting could really set in. "Are you gonna figure out who killed me or what? Is it a money thing, dont make this a money thing. I'll pay you. Its not a money thing.""
Patsy Walker	Patsy Walker spreads her arms apart, the wine glass empty by this point so there's nothing to spill. No mess, unlike what's waiting over there on the table Hellstrom's at. "Not a nice place, wouldn't want to live there," she remarks, knowing full well that at one time that seemed destined to be her fate. Instead, she got out. She wasn't one of the ones who accepted that the story was over. "And here I thought you liked me for my bubbly personality," she tells Daimon, a personality he's only just really been getting to know. "Working on it. I didn't expect you to be asking me to come here so soon. I'd planned to go scout out the blast scene tonight and see what I could see. If you were the target, I might be able to spot a sign left behind."
Riley Black	"Do you want me to help her boss, because if this is court politics she may not necessarily know what she's looking at."The look she shoots patsy almost apologetic, but well that might take just a bit more effort than she's strictly capable of right this moment. "I do know people, and more than a few of those people would be just absolutely desperate to tell me something to get in my good graces. Especially after the purge I just put the scene through."
Daimon Hellstrom	Daimon leaned forward, looking toward Patsy and Riley with a dreamy expression. His chin resting on his palm and fingers slurring his words. "Someone actually thought they could do this and get away with it, its so embarrasing. By the fires of hell, I can't wait to get my hands on them." he shifted his perspective "It will be worth being killed for the feeling of getting my hands on them." he dimmed his eyes at Riley, lidded, glancing to Patsy to see her reaction. "Well gorgeous, you want a skinjob assistant?"
Patsy Walker	Patsy Walker sets the glass down, because she has to use both hands to rub up and down her face for a few seconds. "Did I just hear you say you purged the scene? Well done. Great job. You probably destroyed any evidence I might have found. Really, thank you so much." There's a strained little groan along with this. Of course she'll still make a sweep of things to see if /Riley's/ magic or whatever she did there can still yield a hint, but no, she isn't feeling very optimistic right now. "In fact, I'm going to go have a look right now before someone else has the bright idea to do any more there. It's been real, but I haven't decided what kind of real." On the way out she adds, "I work solo. If there's still something to be found there, I'll find it, but don't be surprised if I come up empty now. Let your escort know I'm leaving."