The Eve of Witchcraft and Devilry (Wanda)

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[attr="class","post2"]She descended from the upper floors of her Salem-based manor cautiously, her eyes narrowed and glowing, her lips pursed in displeasure. Both hands, almost talon-like in their appearance, were wreathed in a smouldering hellfire, the flames licking up her arms, forming an ethereal pyre- though neither her skin nor the fabric of her clothing was burnt. But for her, her home was empty – as it had been when she'd acquired it: the haunted Hell House that no mortal dared venture near. Staking her claim upon the mansion, the dark energy that had been bound to it bolstered her graven magicks, and she had turned it into a fortress: a base of operations that would keep meddling mortals, hunting demons and righteous heroes from her doorstep.

Enchanted runes and markings lay throughout the grounds, and hexes lay upon the structure itself – traps for unexpected visitors, preventing their entry to her new sanctum. Or at least, that had been the plan. Even should Earth's heroes have found her, those talented in the arcane arts would have been able to feel the power she'd woven into curses protecting her dwelling. Even demons of the highest order would have known the hurdle that would have to be leapt in order to reach her. It should have turned them away – even some of the more persistent ones. It would only have been in dire circumstances that someone knowledgable in sorcery would have tested her hexcraft.

And yet that evening, she had felt the first line of her defences breached.

In the midnight hours, reading a rather ancient tome she'd salvaged from a local museum, she had felt the air itself distort, tugging on the strings of her conscience. Then a crack, like one that ran through a pane of glass, formed before her eyes, reality rending itself. The crack grew and stretched, revealing a distorted view of her rather barren garden, through which shambled a thin figure, one arm clutched to its chest. Moments later, the image had vanished, her scrying runes dispelled.

A strange cocktail of emotions had flooded Satana when the air about her was returned to normal. In her chest, there burned a white hot anger. That someone had dared to set foot on grounds clearly marked as her own, it was infuriating. However, her interest was also piqued. The shambling figure remained a mystery, and thus their intent was hidden. Was it one of her father's footsoldiers, returned to punish her for her desertion? Was it one of Earth's heroes, finally catching up to her, wanting her to atone for something else they deemed awful, when it was, in fact, just part of nature's chaotic cycle? Or was it something else entirely?

She had no way of knowing – and that calmed much of the anger she initially felt, stopped her torching her abode to the ground, hoping to catch the intruder in the blaze while she fled the scene. She wished to meet them face on and discover the reason behind their appearance. Satana was more than confident in her own prowess, in her magically reinforced home, in the power the Hell House gave her, and the Devil's daughter believed that she could overcome anything that she would come to face. After all, if it was a minion of her father's, it would give her perfect opportunity to send a rather powerful message back to Marduk's realms.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Satana flicked her dark fringe from her face, and swept toward the house's impressive, charred oak front door. Her cloak billowed behind her, making her silhouette even more impressive than it already was. Then, as she came ever closer, she threw out a hand, magic sparking about her fingertips, and the portal to her inner sanctum was thrown open – allowing Satana to come face to face with the intruder that approached her residence.

She was most certainly not expecting what it was she happened upon.

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Tag: Wanda Maximoff
Notes: I hope this is alright. <3 I figured we could pick up after our Wanda/Laura thread in which her arm was hurt by demonic magic!

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[attr="class","post2"]For all the ill that befell during Wanda's aid of Avengers Academy, it was perhaps fortuitous that the closing of that adventure ended there. With the demonic being purged from the school and the mirror that held it properly purified, that threat was finished. Unfortunately during the investigation alongside X-23, Wanda had received a nasty curse. Only minutes spent trying to lift that curse herself after all was safe let the sorceress know that it was impossible.

Perhaps, had things gone differently, she may have been able. As it was, when Wanda was fleeing the demon's personal hellscape, she'd earned the momentary attention of its master. Now the Scarlet Witch believed that that master had given his eldritch blessing to his servant's curse, because she could not hope to undo it. Not alone. The location was fortuitous for Wanda because Avengers Academy had access to all manner of metahuman networks and, as the Scarlet Witch and someone who'd just exorcised their land, she'd earned use of it.

Wanda needed help. Help with the curse, and though Stephen was chief in her mind to consult, the Scarlet Witch doubted he'd have much to offer in this case. No, she needed to confide in someone with expertise in the matter of demonic magicks. That person presented itself thanks to Misty Knight, Control of the fairly recently revitalized Heroes for Hire. That lead to Paladin, who had a more close working relationship with the person Wanda was trying to find, and Paladin offered insight that made her mystic scrying efforts bear near-immediate fruit.

The Quinjet that was arranged to take Wanda back to New York City from the Academy was rerouted. Soon, she was in Salem.

The Scarlet Witch dreaded every step she took toward the manor that was her destination after she disembarked from the Quinjet. The pilot had been encouraged to take his leave. Wanda would find her own way home from there. One way or another. She dare not appear weak before the company that she courted that night, but at the same time every elapsing moment made the curse binding her right hand strengthen, and her wards to staunch its spread weakened. Wanda looked up onto the dour house upon the hill without really seeing it.

At the perimeter, Wanda was assailed. Demonic spells sparked to life. Damned ruins barred her way, rising like wraiths in the air. But the Scarlet Witch scowled. She lashed out with her cursed arm and those fingers tore through the runes and bypassed them. Wanda had hoped that that would work, but by so doing she watched the affected areas of the curse climb another inch up her arm. She pushed on through the grounds of the house, sweat beading her brow. When she came within sight of the door, it flung open, and Wanda realized how much she floundered beneath her affliction in that she hadn't sensed the estate's patroness approaching.

"Bit on the nose, don't you think?" Wanda asked, wincing up at Satana Hellstrom. "Salem?" she elaborated. "The Hell House? Aah, but we superheroes love our theatrics. Mystics above all." Then the Scarlet Witch stumbled and faltered, falling on the steps that lead up to the front porch.

Tagged: Satana Hellstrom
Notes: I'm sorry this is FOREVER late