Morningstar - Satanna's Sanctum
Nov. 18th, 2018 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logs Jip sends them to Satanna, who almost immediately proved too much for either of them.
“You aren’t listening to me, Worthington. This Satanna is not a joke. She’s been around for at least fifty years and is the real deal.” Kevin argued as they walked down the street. Jip’s ‘invitation’ to see the woman had set off every alarm bell in his head. “Look, the CIA doesn’t believe in magic and even we kept an eye on her. We sent an agent in back in 1978 to infiltrate her organization. When we got him back a week later, all he did was stare ahead at nothing and scream whenever anyone touched him. Poor bastard bit his thumbnail jaggedly enough to cut his own throat. Second guy we sent, ten years later, we got his heart back in a box. This is way out of your depth.”
"I haven't listened to you once in the entire time we've known each other, why the fuck am I going to start now?" Warren brushed Kevin off like the annoying little bug that he was. "And I'm doing exactly what I want to do. I've told you before, I don't need you around like a babysitter. I wanted to speak with Jip, you set that up, cool, I'll start a foundation in your name or something if you need the wankoff, but remember: I'm the one in charge. You dont' want to be here?" Warren gave a little wave. "Bye bye."
"You know what... enough." The punch caught Warren under his left kidney and hurt in a way that he wasn't used to. As he went down, Kevin grabbed him by the hair and clipped him a second one; a sharp blow over his left eye, making his head swim. "I think you have a delusional idea of our relationship here, you stupid fuck. The only reason I haven't put a bullet in the back of your entitled, empty fucking head is because other people care about you and I'm trying to save your life as a favour to them." He dropped Warren to the sidewalk as the other man tried to clear the pain from his head. "I don't care if you piss your life away. I've dealt too many rich idiots like you who think their money makes them smarter than everyone else. I'm asking you, for once in your sad, miserable and utterly worthless life, to think about people who care about you. Going to Satanna is a bad idea in every possible way. Even if she has the answers, I guarantee you that the price will be too high for them. Be smart, kid."
Warren glared and debated punching Kevin back, but the fucker had managed to get the address alone from Jip and he still needed him. "I lost a few minutes of my life here, what else could I possibly lose? Those were probably damn good minutes, you know."
"Yeah, a deal I told you not to make and you went ahead and did it anyways." Kevin knew it was impossible to stop someone who was determined to wreck their life. Warren had made it clear that even if Kevin forced him away tonight, he'd be back the second no one was looking. It didn't make enabling it feel any better. Although, it did make that punch a hell of a lot sweeter. "I just don't get it. I mean, I've at least got decades of bad fucking decisions to justify ruining my life. You seem to want to do it because you're bored or something."
Boredom got him into this mess, Warren wanted to spit out, but he couldn't. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were, where he didn't feel this maelstrom of emotions within, where he could go back to not thinking about his actions..and yet now, all he did was dwell on the stupid mistakes he'd been making. Alienating all his friends. That stupid viral article. Breaking Bobbi's heart. All of it. It swirled around non-stop, and he just. wanted. it. to. end.
"I'm not talking to you, old man. I have business with Satanna, she's the only one who can get this ... thing away from me. So kindly either fuck off, or lead the way."
***
The building that they went to was as close to a turn of the century manse as could survive in Manhattan. It was a large corner building in the brownstone style, buried in the Upper West Side. As they were led in, the... footman was the best term for the man in livery that escourted them into the parlor to wait for Satanna, offered drinks and withdrew as soon as each had accepted a Steuben tumbler full of high quality scotch. Kevin looked at the glass for a moment. It could have been older than him.
The click-clack of expensive heels strolled across the marble floor as a woman entered the room only seconds after her footmen had hastily thrown open the doors. The woman's straight white hair and pale skin were a stark contrast to the simple cherry red business suit that showed off every curve and black heels that she wore. Around her neck was a silver choker in the shape of a skull. Her eyes were dark but when they caught the light, seemed to be a deeper crimson, eyes that fixated on the two men in her parlor.
"Are you lost? You'd have to be to find your way here," she said with a light smile.
"What can I do for the two of you?"
Warren gave the woman a very appreciative look. Now this, this is what magic and power should look like. Not like a crab lady, or a weird old time stealing man. Something like this. Sensual. Powerful. Mysterious. Yes, this is what he wanted.
"I need your help. I have something in me, something that I don't want there. You're the only one who can get it out, save me from myself, so to speak." His eyes twinkled, already starting to fall under her spell. "Can you help me? I'll give you anything you want, I have more money than I know what to do with." This was the truth, and even though money hadn't helped him once through this whole ordeal, it was still his first option.
Satanna's eyebrows raised coyly as she closed the space between the two of them. The air seemed to crackle, though it wasn't from the fireplace behind her. "Anything..." she repeated, trailing a manicured finger down his chest. The nail was just a little bit too sharp, glinting in the light.
"That's a dangerous thing to offer to strange people, Mr. Worthington," she said, circling him like a hawk investigating a mouse. After a moment she paused, studying him in profile. Her smile widened.
"Well...aren't you interesting?"
"He's not the last turkey at the shop..." Kevin huffed, already uncomfortable with this woman (and her admittedly excellent scotch).
"No. He's something more," Satanna said, meeting Warren's eyes. Her own seemed to glow red for a moment as she continued to look him over.
"You've heard the story of Hades and Persephone, haven't you?"
"Sure," Warren said, brow furrowed. "What the hell does that have to do with anything? I don't see any pomegranates, and there was no fucking food in Limbo, soooooooo I don't know how I could have eaten anything there that would be causing this weird brain talk."
Satanna gave a flicker of a smile. "But you did do something...carnal. And that delicious thing, in that place, is powerful. It's energy. You opened a door, dear heart, and let something in. Limbo's energy mingled with yours," she said, taking a step closer to him until he could smell the brimstone on her skin. Brimstone and amber. She leaned in, glancing him over like a prize, close enough to touch, or kiss.
"And like Persephone...you tasted the forbidden. There are consequences."
This didn't make any sense. Tasted something forbidden? He was Warren Worthington the III. Nothing was forbidden to him. There was something oddly familiar about her scent though, and he found himself startling suddenly. No....it couldn't be .... that fake Felicia? He'd thought it was honestly a dream. Sometimes, flashes would come to him in the middle of the night, and he'd remember the sensation of her, remember the smell of the room, and then he'd wake up, confused. All this time, he thought he was remembering his 30th birthday, the one and only time he'd actually slept with Felicia, but ...what? That was a dream. Limbo wasn't real. Nothing that happened there was real. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, less sure now.
Satanna laughed. He was so delightfully stupid. This would do nicely. Especially in light of what she'd glimpsed inside of him, just underneath the surface.
"Don't you? Think harder. Let yourself fall into those memories," she said, gently brushing her lips across his.
Without thinking, Warren kissed her back before pulling away horrified. "Holy shit, that was you?" It all came flooding back to him. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't. What the hell. "No, it couldn't be. That was all a dream, none of that was real..." He trailed off. "What the fuck. You did this to me?"
Satanna tilted her head, trying hard not to roll her eyes. "No..." she said, then smiled.
"I haven't yet had the pleasure. But I do recognize the handiwork. They tried to cover their tracks, shrouding the deed in haze and trickery. I can help you uncover more if you'd like." Her face looked perfectly innocent, as innocent as someone with that face could be.
Warren smiled widely. There was that voice again, niggling the back of his mind, urging him to go with her offer. This is who you want, the tendrils whispered, tucking themselves around his brain. Say yesssss.... "Yes please," he said, nodding almost hypnotically. He could see Kevin from the corner of his eyes, but fuck him -- this was Warren's life and he wanted it back, damnit. "Anything. Anything you can do. I'm yours."
"Alright, that's enough." The gun appeared in Kevin's hand so fast it was like he'd wished it so. He held it up at Satanna. "Break whatever hold you've got on his empty head so we can walk out of here. In return, I won't put a bullet between those pretty eyes."
Satanna turned to look at Kevin, as if seeing him for the first time. Not even a twinge of lust. She should've known with what he was.That would not do for her plans. A slow smile spread across her lips as her eyes turned black and the air around her forehead rippled, revealing obsidian colored horns that seemed to smoke and sizzle.
"Kevin wants to hurt me, Warren," she said with disappointment and mock fear, reaching up to stroke Warren's chin.
"I promise I'll help you, but I can't with him in the way. Protect me, and I can give you what you want. I'll make you so much better."
Warren's shift pushed Kevin off-guard just long enough to ruin any shot he had. He shoved Warren aside but had failed to notice the man behind him. The blade slipped up the side of his throat and was wrenched across, deep. Blood fountained from the wound, along with a whistling wet aspiration from his cut windpipe. Kevin tried to grasp at it, but the sudden and traumatic blood loss worked faster than his muscles and he collapsed into a copious and growing puddle of blood.
Expression unchanging, Satanna ran her fingers through Warren's hair. "Come dear. We have so much to do," she said. Clapping her hands, the doors opened and three men stepped inside.
"Gentlemen, please take out the trash and make sure the room is spotless. You know how blood can stain."
Satanna's men were exquisitely dressed and the one hauled Kevin's corpse swore to himself quietly in Mandarin about the blood ruining his waistcoat. One served the Mistresses wishes at once and without question, of course, but one could also wish for duties that no amount of dry cleaning could possibly fix. After the bizarre space-bending nature of the interior of the brownstone, the backdoor into the alley was jarring, as if reality was the true fantasy world. He pulled the body to the base of the dumpster. The Mistress had an arrangement for the building's waste to be incinerated by a company who were in her thrall. No mess, no questions. He opened the top and turned back to hoist up the body. He did not expect his own knife buried into his adam's apple, hard enough to go through and sever his spine, killing him instantly.
Kevin leaned against the dumpster for a moment, catching his breath. He'd lost a lot of blood, even if his body's reflexive ability to reroute his circulatory system had saved his life. The man had a normal key and a curiously polished stone in his pockets; a normal key for the door and some kind of ward or talisman as the real key? Didn't matter, he thought as he put both in his pocket and took a long look at the corpse. In a few moments, an exact copy stood over the body, before lifting it up and dumping him into the dumpster. He held his gun out of sight as he opened the door and crept back into the house.
For all it's space altering features, it was clear that the central room they'd glimpsed earlier was the main focus on the woman's activities. As Kevin got closer, he could hear the obvious sounds of sex, no attempt to bother to muffle or hide them. It made sense. She was some kind of sex based magic... thing. He made it to the edge of the door and peered around it.
[Zoila/Mack - Satanna is using sex to bind Warren's soul. Up to you guys what you want to show/describe]
In the darkness there was a heat, two bodies intertwined. Satanna could see the light coming from Warren, glistening like sunlight through flaxen hair. His soul was vibrant, spilling out with every quick motion. This way was the easiest way to see it, to bind it, shaping it to what she needed.
The first shot hit the wall just to the right of Satanna's head, getting her attention. Kevin walked in, still in the guise of her servant. "Like I said, stop whatever shit you're trying to do with him and let us walk out. Or, you're going to die in less than a minute. And just so you know, you're more dangerous than Worthington's life is worth to me, so use him as a shield and I'll kill you both." Kevin's voice carried an iron certainty with it. Whether he could or not, he wasn't bluffing.
Satanna turned to face him, arching a brow with a hint of an amused, devilish smile. She truly was her father's daughter. "Will you now?" she said.
Kevin fired twice. To his credit, the bubbles that emerged from the end of the pistol only earned a puzzled look instead of panic.
"This is my sanctum, little changeling. My place of power. Challenging me here, before my alter and my wards... you lost before you even stepped in." She raised one hand towards him. "Pity you can't be enspelled. I can think of delicious opportunities you might provide. Instead, I think I'll let my men kill you. A treat for them while I work on dear Warren. But let's not have this hunt done behind your masks. You deserve to die with your true face on." A nimbus of energy leapt from her fingers to Kevin and he staggered back. After a moment, he raised his head; wrinkled, white haired and a frailer body. He caught a glimpse of himself in one of her many mirrors. This was an 88 year old man... an 88 year old Kevin Sydney, if not for his powers.
"I think a five minute head start is more than fair. Goodbye, changeling. I shan't think we'll meet again."
Kevin staggered out of the house, through the back door. In any other circumstance, five minutes was enough for him to disappear, but without his powers and with a body that ached all over, it was different. Kevin hoped to hell that Gabriel wasn't pissed enough at him to not answer his phone. Otherwise, Kevin couldn't see a way this old man made it to morning.
“You aren’t listening to me, Worthington. This Satanna is not a joke. She’s been around for at least fifty years and is the real deal.” Kevin argued as they walked down the street. Jip’s ‘invitation’ to see the woman had set off every alarm bell in his head. “Look, the CIA doesn’t believe in magic and even we kept an eye on her. We sent an agent in back in 1978 to infiltrate her organization. When we got him back a week later, all he did was stare ahead at nothing and scream whenever anyone touched him. Poor bastard bit his thumbnail jaggedly enough to cut his own throat. Second guy we sent, ten years later, we got his heart back in a box. This is way out of your depth.”
"I haven't listened to you once in the entire time we've known each other, why the fuck am I going to start now?" Warren brushed Kevin off like the annoying little bug that he was. "And I'm doing exactly what I want to do. I've told you before, I don't need you around like a babysitter. I wanted to speak with Jip, you set that up, cool, I'll start a foundation in your name or something if you need the wankoff, but remember: I'm the one in charge. You dont' want to be here?" Warren gave a little wave. "Bye bye."
"You know what... enough." The punch caught Warren under his left kidney and hurt in a way that he wasn't used to. As he went down, Kevin grabbed him by the hair and clipped him a second one; a sharp blow over his left eye, making his head swim. "I think you have a delusional idea of our relationship here, you stupid fuck. The only reason I haven't put a bullet in the back of your entitled, empty fucking head is because other people care about you and I'm trying to save your life as a favour to them." He dropped Warren to the sidewalk as the other man tried to clear the pain from his head. "I don't care if you piss your life away. I've dealt too many rich idiots like you who think their money makes them smarter than everyone else. I'm asking you, for once in your sad, miserable and utterly worthless life, to think about people who care about you. Going to Satanna is a bad idea in every possible way. Even if she has the answers, I guarantee you that the price will be too high for them. Be smart, kid."
Warren glared and debated punching Kevin back, but the fucker had managed to get the address alone from Jip and he still needed him. "I lost a few minutes of my life here, what else could I possibly lose? Those were probably damn good minutes, you know."
"Yeah, a deal I told you not to make and you went ahead and did it anyways." Kevin knew it was impossible to stop someone who was determined to wreck their life. Warren had made it clear that even if Kevin forced him away tonight, he'd be back the second no one was looking. It didn't make enabling it feel any better. Although, it did make that punch a hell of a lot sweeter. "I just don't get it. I mean, I've at least got decades of bad fucking decisions to justify ruining my life. You seem to want to do it because you're bored or something."
Boredom got him into this mess, Warren wanted to spit out, but he couldn't. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were, where he didn't feel this maelstrom of emotions within, where he could go back to not thinking about his actions..and yet now, all he did was dwell on the stupid mistakes he'd been making. Alienating all his friends. That stupid viral article. Breaking Bobbi's heart. All of it. It swirled around non-stop, and he just. wanted. it. to. end.
"I'm not talking to you, old man. I have business with Satanna, she's the only one who can get this ... thing away from me. So kindly either fuck off, or lead the way."
***
The building that they went to was as close to a turn of the century manse as could survive in Manhattan. It was a large corner building in the brownstone style, buried in the Upper West Side. As they were led in, the... footman was the best term for the man in livery that escourted them into the parlor to wait for Satanna, offered drinks and withdrew as soon as each had accepted a Steuben tumbler full of high quality scotch. Kevin looked at the glass for a moment. It could have been older than him.
The click-clack of expensive heels strolled across the marble floor as a woman entered the room only seconds after her footmen had hastily thrown open the doors. The woman's straight white hair and pale skin were a stark contrast to the simple cherry red business suit that showed off every curve and black heels that she wore. Around her neck was a silver choker in the shape of a skull. Her eyes were dark but when they caught the light, seemed to be a deeper crimson, eyes that fixated on the two men in her parlor.
"Are you lost? You'd have to be to find your way here," she said with a light smile.
"What can I do for the two of you?"
Warren gave the woman a very appreciative look. Now this, this is what magic and power should look like. Not like a crab lady, or a weird old time stealing man. Something like this. Sensual. Powerful. Mysterious. Yes, this is what he wanted.
"I need your help. I have something in me, something that I don't want there. You're the only one who can get it out, save me from myself, so to speak." His eyes twinkled, already starting to fall under her spell. "Can you help me? I'll give you anything you want, I have more money than I know what to do with." This was the truth, and even though money hadn't helped him once through this whole ordeal, it was still his first option.
Satanna's eyebrows raised coyly as she closed the space between the two of them. The air seemed to crackle, though it wasn't from the fireplace behind her. "Anything..." she repeated, trailing a manicured finger down his chest. The nail was just a little bit too sharp, glinting in the light.
"That's a dangerous thing to offer to strange people, Mr. Worthington," she said, circling him like a hawk investigating a mouse. After a moment she paused, studying him in profile. Her smile widened.
"Well...aren't you interesting?"
"He's not the last turkey at the shop..." Kevin huffed, already uncomfortable with this woman (and her admittedly excellent scotch).
"No. He's something more," Satanna said, meeting Warren's eyes. Her own seemed to glow red for a moment as she continued to look him over.
"You've heard the story of Hades and Persephone, haven't you?"
"Sure," Warren said, brow furrowed. "What the hell does that have to do with anything? I don't see any pomegranates, and there was no fucking food in Limbo, soooooooo I don't know how I could have eaten anything there that would be causing this weird brain talk."
Satanna gave a flicker of a smile. "But you did do something...carnal. And that delicious thing, in that place, is powerful. It's energy. You opened a door, dear heart, and let something in. Limbo's energy mingled with yours," she said, taking a step closer to him until he could smell the brimstone on her skin. Brimstone and amber. She leaned in, glancing him over like a prize, close enough to touch, or kiss.
"And like Persephone...you tasted the forbidden. There are consequences."
This didn't make any sense. Tasted something forbidden? He was Warren Worthington the III. Nothing was forbidden to him. There was something oddly familiar about her scent though, and he found himself startling suddenly. No....it couldn't be .... that fake Felicia? He'd thought it was honestly a dream. Sometimes, flashes would come to him in the middle of the night, and he'd remember the sensation of her, remember the smell of the room, and then he'd wake up, confused. All this time, he thought he was remembering his 30th birthday, the one and only time he'd actually slept with Felicia, but ...what? That was a dream. Limbo wasn't real. Nothing that happened there was real. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, less sure now.
Satanna laughed. He was so delightfully stupid. This would do nicely. Especially in light of what she'd glimpsed inside of him, just underneath the surface.
"Don't you? Think harder. Let yourself fall into those memories," she said, gently brushing her lips across his.
Without thinking, Warren kissed her back before pulling away horrified. "Holy shit, that was you?" It all came flooding back to him. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't. What the hell. "No, it couldn't be. That was all a dream, none of that was real..." He trailed off. "What the fuck. You did this to me?"
Satanna tilted her head, trying hard not to roll her eyes. "No..." she said, then smiled.
"I haven't yet had the pleasure. But I do recognize the handiwork. They tried to cover their tracks, shrouding the deed in haze and trickery. I can help you uncover more if you'd like." Her face looked perfectly innocent, as innocent as someone with that face could be.
Warren smiled widely. There was that voice again, niggling the back of his mind, urging him to go with her offer. This is who you want, the tendrils whispered, tucking themselves around his brain. Say yesssss.... "Yes please," he said, nodding almost hypnotically. He could see Kevin from the corner of his eyes, but fuck him -- this was Warren's life and he wanted it back, damnit. "Anything. Anything you can do. I'm yours."
"Alright, that's enough." The gun appeared in Kevin's hand so fast it was like he'd wished it so. He held it up at Satanna. "Break whatever hold you've got on his empty head so we can walk out of here. In return, I won't put a bullet between those pretty eyes."
Satanna turned to look at Kevin, as if seeing him for the first time. Not even a twinge of lust. She should've known with what he was.That would not do for her plans. A slow smile spread across her lips as her eyes turned black and the air around her forehead rippled, revealing obsidian colored horns that seemed to smoke and sizzle.
"Kevin wants to hurt me, Warren," she said with disappointment and mock fear, reaching up to stroke Warren's chin.
"I promise I'll help you, but I can't with him in the way. Protect me, and I can give you what you want. I'll make you so much better."
Warren's shift pushed Kevin off-guard just long enough to ruin any shot he had. He shoved Warren aside but had failed to notice the man behind him. The blade slipped up the side of his throat and was wrenched across, deep. Blood fountained from the wound, along with a whistling wet aspiration from his cut windpipe. Kevin tried to grasp at it, but the sudden and traumatic blood loss worked faster than his muscles and he collapsed into a copious and growing puddle of blood.
Expression unchanging, Satanna ran her fingers through Warren's hair. "Come dear. We have so much to do," she said. Clapping her hands, the doors opened and three men stepped inside.
"Gentlemen, please take out the trash and make sure the room is spotless. You know how blood can stain."
Satanna's men were exquisitely dressed and the one hauled Kevin's corpse swore to himself quietly in Mandarin about the blood ruining his waistcoat. One served the Mistresses wishes at once and without question, of course, but one could also wish for duties that no amount of dry cleaning could possibly fix. After the bizarre space-bending nature of the interior of the brownstone, the backdoor into the alley was jarring, as if reality was the true fantasy world. He pulled the body to the base of the dumpster. The Mistress had an arrangement for the building's waste to be incinerated by a company who were in her thrall. No mess, no questions. He opened the top and turned back to hoist up the body. He did not expect his own knife buried into his adam's apple, hard enough to go through and sever his spine, killing him instantly.
Kevin leaned against the dumpster for a moment, catching his breath. He'd lost a lot of blood, even if his body's reflexive ability to reroute his circulatory system had saved his life. The man had a normal key and a curiously polished stone in his pockets; a normal key for the door and some kind of ward or talisman as the real key? Didn't matter, he thought as he put both in his pocket and took a long look at the corpse. In a few moments, an exact copy stood over the body, before lifting it up and dumping him into the dumpster. He held his gun out of sight as he opened the door and crept back into the house.
For all it's space altering features, it was clear that the central room they'd glimpsed earlier was the main focus on the woman's activities. As Kevin got closer, he could hear the obvious sounds of sex, no attempt to bother to muffle or hide them. It made sense. She was some kind of sex based magic... thing. He made it to the edge of the door and peered around it.
[Zoila/Mack - Satanna is using sex to bind Warren's soul. Up to you guys what you want to show/describe]
In the darkness there was a heat, two bodies intertwined. Satanna could see the light coming from Warren, glistening like sunlight through flaxen hair. His soul was vibrant, spilling out with every quick motion. This way was the easiest way to see it, to bind it, shaping it to what she needed.
The first shot hit the wall just to the right of Satanna's head, getting her attention. Kevin walked in, still in the guise of her servant. "Like I said, stop whatever shit you're trying to do with him and let us walk out. Or, you're going to die in less than a minute. And just so you know, you're more dangerous than Worthington's life is worth to me, so use him as a shield and I'll kill you both." Kevin's voice carried an iron certainty with it. Whether he could or not, he wasn't bluffing.
Satanna turned to face him, arching a brow with a hint of an amused, devilish smile. She truly was her father's daughter. "Will you now?" she said.
Kevin fired twice. To his credit, the bubbles that emerged from the end of the pistol only earned a puzzled look instead of panic.
"This is my sanctum, little changeling. My place of power. Challenging me here, before my alter and my wards... you lost before you even stepped in." She raised one hand towards him. "Pity you can't be enspelled. I can think of delicious opportunities you might provide. Instead, I think I'll let my men kill you. A treat for them while I work on dear Warren. But let's not have this hunt done behind your masks. You deserve to die with your true face on." A nimbus of energy leapt from her fingers to Kevin and he staggered back. After a moment, he raised his head; wrinkled, white haired and a frailer body. He caught a glimpse of himself in one of her many mirrors. This was an 88 year old man... an 88 year old Kevin Sydney, if not for his powers.
"I think a five minute head start is more than fair. Goodbye, changeling. I shan't think we'll meet again."
Kevin staggered out of the house, through the back door. In any other circumstance, five minutes was enough for him to disappear, but without his powers and with a body that ached all over, it was different. Kevin hoped to hell that Gabriel wasn't pissed enough at him to not answer his phone. Otherwise, Kevin couldn't see a way this old man made it to morning.
