10139/Standard Club Things

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Standard Club Things
Date of Scene: 21 November 2019
Location: Club Lux, Melville
Synopsis: Felicia introduces Bucky to Lucifer.
Cast of Characters: Black Cat, Winter Soldier, Lucifer




Black Cat has posed:
This evening, the Cat's out on the town, and she's not alone. There's an errand to run at Club Lux in Melville at least for Felicia. She's read through her primer books on summoning circles and it's time (in her opinion, at least) to schedule another monitored attempt at executing some of the mystical tricks she's mused over while scritching at lazy Shammy's half-sleeping form. Texts were sent off to a particularly quiet young man and the arrival time set.

Tonight requires dark jeans that must have been painted out -- or she poured herself into, somehow. Black knee-high boots gleam in high-quality leather. Beneath her peacoat, her button-down shirt is a cheery fuscia-pink, sure to bring out the natural color in her cheeks and brighten her jade-green eyes flawlessly lined in kohl. Overtop this, a black satin racerback waistcoat vest that clings to her curves with a vengeance.

"Bet they can make any drink you can name," she challenges the brunet beside her with a red-red smile. They arrive at the front door and frankly, the bouncer doesn't think twice about letting Felicia enter. Bucky is allowed access by proxy of her hand wrapped around his bicep. In they go and down the stairwell to the main floor. The club is hopping, though not necessarily packed to the gills. The dancers are dancing to the music thumping, the drinks are flowing, and in darker corners, certain substances are passed about. Felicia sighs.

"There's never a dull moment around here..." she muses close to Bucky's ear given the volume of the speakers. Her eyes search for a particular man, after all: the club's owner.

Winter Soldier has posed:
He doesn't have his tux on - he does have one now, though. But Buck's settled on a dark suit that very much suggests it. Perfectly tailored, and cut in such a way that it's much more in line with the styles of his youth, though not so meticulous as to fall under mere period costume. There's more than a little of that 30s gangster aesthetic in the dark striped jacket and pants, the burgundy vest over white shirt and dark tie, and a fedora cocked at the proper rakish angle when he enters....though immediately removed. Sergeant Barnes, in other words, has no truck at all with skinny pants or anything worn 'ironically', and he remembers the days when there was a distinct etiquette to hats and their wear.

Visibly casing the place as he comes in. "I know a sucker's bet when I hear it," he retorts, not looking at her directly until he's satisfied he's gotten the lay of the land.

Lucifer has posed:
"Well aren't you two lovely together?" Lucifer's voice floats over to Felicia and Bucky, as he moves smoothly down the staircase. He is leisurely at first, but then rapidly comes down the second half of the stairs with a rapid, almost acrobatic grace: like a panther sliding down out of his tree.

"So very good to see you," Lucifer just about purrs to Felicia, striding over with an immediate attempt to guide her hand to his lips, though he doesn't actually render any kiss there. It was just a tease: and comes with a flippant little dark-eyed wink at Bucky.

"Welcome welcome; what //have// you brought me?" Lucifer asks Felicia, though his dark eyes are steady and intense on Bucky, now. Lucifer's all smiles. The charisma from the devil just about pulses out in waves of comfortable ease. It's a drug, in a way: feeling so free of inhibition IS a style of drug.

"Are you the supreme of something other than magic?" Lucifer coyly asks. It may be very hard to resist answering that honestly - and who really wants to resist, anyway?

Black Cat has posed:
"Oh, come on now, you old fogey, humor a lady," the Cat chides Bucky with laughter clear as day in tone. Her smirk curls at him before she hears that familiar crisp voice drift down from on high. How it threads through the leading beat of the music keeping the dance floor packed is something truly supernatural. Turning in place on the toes of her boots, Felicia releases her gentle hold on the Soldier's arm in order to spread both hands out at her sides.

"Lucifer, you charmer," she replies, fluttering her eyelashes at him across the heights of her knuckles not quite kissed. "I've brought a friend. I was telling him about the club and I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone -- I have a question for you anyways, after we all know each other."

With that, she retrieves her hand in order to work at shrugging out of her peacoat. After all, it's warm in the place, though not uncomfortably so. Regardless, the button-down shirt is absolutely unbuttoned down at least two disks to expose the graceful lines of her collarbones...bare min.

Winter Soldier has posed:
With his hat off - from the front, it looks like his hair's slicked back. A turn of his head, though, and it's clear that it's bound back into a neat, shining tail, held by a silvery ring. That knee-jerk wariness eases a fraction, as he meets Lucifer's gaze. Going wondering and curious, the easing of tension taking years off his face. Still solemn, but much less braced for fight or flight.

With Felicia letting go her hold on his arm, he deftly shifts his hat to his metal hand - covered by a glove of soft black leather - and offers the human one to Lux's owner. That question bemuses him. Was it meant for him? And what did it mean, either way? "James Barnes," he says, simply.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer doesn't pin Bucky with the question, at any rate. Perhaps it was for Felicia's benefit? Hard to know: Lucifer's got his full bore gaze on Bucky for the moment, studying him. "Lucifer Morningstar. Charmed," Lucifer says, cool and easy. His eyes widen a little more, giving Lucifer a manic, overly interested appearance for just a moment, before he's suddenly twisting to look upstairs, scanning. Any brief spell he'd cast isn't broken, but it does reduce. Lucifer's eyes are something strong.

"Oh, did you want privacy for this question?" he asks, before looking back to Felicia, now. "Perhaps drinks to go with it?" A look cast to the bar rouses a waitress immediately to come right over to the club owner and the two in front of him. She hands Lucifer a glass of what is obviously whiskey, and looks at the other two questioningly.

"Beautiful timing as always, Pamela," Lucifer says to her, and she casts him a demure smile with an edge of something far less demure.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia gives the brunet a passing glance almost...pleased. Ah-hah -- he can be social after all. It twinkles through her thoughts: she wins. Briefly, she quarter-turns to consider the dance floor with its collection of gyrating bodies in all sorts of appropriate club-wear and frets at the coner of her lip. The temptation, at least for the Cat, is clear as day momentarily.

Lucifer pulls her out of her introspective argument against going and enjoying herself in the throng. Primly, with her jacket held over her arm, she lifts eyebrows before considering the bar.

"Mmm...I don't think privacy is necessary," she decides just before Pamela arrives. "I'll take a Vodka Sunrise, please." Her attention returns to the club owner. "We can go upstairs though, I didn't get a chance to really appreciate those couches you have. They look very comfortable," the blonde notes with a smirk to Lucifer.

"But I can't really say what James is the supreme of. Thoughts?" Her jade-green eyes twinkle towards the Soldier, wondering how on earth he might reply to the question.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Winter Soldier lets his hand fall, without fanfare. Hey, maybe Lucifer not touching him keeps him from bursting into flames....or keeps his arm from shorting out. God only knows what kind of charge Lucifer carries. "Pleasure," he says, amiably enough. The question put to him.....he's either got a completely flawless deadpan (entirely possible, hey, thanks, Winter) or he's having a moment of social blindness.

....it's the latter, because the answer Blue Eyes comes up with, after some deliberation, is "American POWs". Hey, they lost him in '45 and he wasn't freed until eighty years later. No one else was gone that long.

Lucifer has posed:
"Supreme of...." Lucifer says leadingly, his gaze anchoring onto James. Lucifer narrows his eyes just a little, as if reaching out with an invisible hand to guide some tidbit from James. "American POWs. Well. That could mean several things, couldn't it. Something I suspect you might not be so proud of?" Lucifer wonders, prompting. "No judgments here, though. We all have our claims to fame such as they are, don't we!"

Without looking away from Bucky, he fans one hand towards Pamela, sending her off to fetch the orders. As Bucky withdraws the hand intended for handshake back, Lucifer takes in that he accidentally didn't notice it. He was focused too much on something else in Bucky's face. Lucifer got /curious/...

"Forgive me, where are my manners," Lucifer says, shaking himself a little bit, and will handshake properly this time. Lucifer isn't warm, doesn't set anyone on fire, and isn't forceful in handshakes. "Let's show you that couch, then. Try not to wander off," Lucifer teases, perhaps aware of the temptation of the dance floor, and heads back up the stairs, leading them towards one of the private suites.

Black Cat has posed:
A pursing of red lips is the Cat's silent reaction to the reply. Bucky isn't lying from what little she knows of his past...or at least, it's an easy extrapolation to follow. A flicker of empathy comes and goes through her darkly-lashed eyes, quick as sunlight flashing off a gemstone.

Felicia then tilts her head promptingly in the Soldier's peripheral vision. She takes up the lead behind the club owner and sashays her way up the stairs, hips swinging comfortably as boots click their way in a measured time up and to the second floor.

"I think I'll wander off later," she shares with a grin at the top of the steps. One last lingering halt allows her to look over her shoulder down at the dance floor and wistfulness fills her pose until she makes herself continue on towards the private suite.

"I finished reading those books, by the way." The announcement to Lucifer in particular has her giving him a smile, as if she were testing his memory in regards to //which// books she's referencing.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Back to that deadpan, polite and attentive and opaque a millimeter behind the eyes. His handshake's firm, but he's never inclined to make a pissing contest of it. Declining to explain further.

Even the switch of Felicia's hips don't divert him. James has a faintly abstracted look, that stitch of concentration between his brows. As if someone were murmuring in his sleep, and he were trying to catch the words. Tread soft, despite the fact that he's wearing vastly inappropriate steel-toes, rather than proper dress shoes. The black leather they're made off is shined within an inch of its life, old Army style.

Lucifer has posed:
"I do have leashes if you really can't be contained, but that's not really my /style/," Lucifer jokes with Felicia as she follows him upstairs. The quiet Bucky, bringing up the rear, is given a reprieve from the playful devil for a little while, before Lucifer presses the door open with one palm and gestures for the two to go ahead of him.

The private rooms are luxurious, and speak of all kinds of private activities. It does seem very clean, though, there isn't speck or hair out of place in the room. Cleanliness is next to godliness.

Pamela follows them, with Felicia's drink. Lucifer snares it off the tray and Pamela exits quickly, while Lucifer offers it instead to Felcia with trhee fingers balancing the drink easily. "Now, let's finish your business, and get to playtime," Lucifer chuckles, playfully. "While I'm glad to hear you finished your homework, it isn't actually part of your grade. Are you asking for more, then? Whetted your appetite?"

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia rolls her eyes and wrinkles her nose against a laugh bubbling beneath her breastbone -- leashes, pfft, no one leashes her! With a comfortable lift to her chin, the thief walks into the room as if it were her own living space. Her coat is laid along the back of one of the couches before she turns in time to see her drink offered out to her on Lucifer's fingertips.

"Oh why thank you," she simpers with overly-affected manners, grinning up a storm as she takes the glass into two hands. "Yes, I am asking for more. I think I remember enough from the books to try something a little bit more difficult."

"I'm being taught magic," she asides to Bucky, bright excitement bringing an electric life to her entire body. Her drink is sipped and she then looks back to Lucifer.

"James knows about magic, he's seen it before, so we don't have to be hush-hush about it." Another deeper sip of her drink is followed by a soft contented sound. "Ooh, this is //good.//"

Winter Soldier has posed:
That....that breaks James out of his brown study. His drink of choice is ginger ale, of all things. But then, liquor in the average Earthly concentrations doesn't affect him, so why should he waste Lucifer's stock. A glance down at his side - his usual furry companion is shedding and snoozing on his bed in the Triskelion.

"I've seen a little," he allows. Much less sanguine about what learning magic might mean. But then....who has he seen, other than Loki?

Lucifer has posed:
Pamela accepts the order: she'll be back with that Ginger ale shortly. Lucifer doesn't seem to react or care about the drink choice. No pressure.

"Ah yes, I know I am," Lucifer replies serenely to Felicia. "Oh, you meant your drink?" he questions, as if he honestly may have misheard her. It's hard to tell, he's still grinning like a cocky maniac, so that could be either way.

"Seen magic, has he? 'A little?' I'll resist the urge to ask you to pick a card, then, James; such a thing would be a small pittance to those more versed with real magic," Lucifer jokes. He's a fun, amiable presence; no need to feel tense or tight-lipped with Lucifer. Everything is awesome. Even his magic sounds pleasant and enjoyable.

"As I recall, your books touched on a number of areas. You'd use them to focus on an interest, such as hexes, or charms, or summoning, or necromancy, or exorcism, or teleportation, or any number of vast categories. Generally it's best to pick one at a time, much like you were having a decadent meal, and not a pig with everything in one bucket out of a blender."

Black Cat has posed:
The manic grin is returned with a red-red smirk. Cheers, comes the silent lift of the drink. With a light grace, Felicia perches herself on the end of one of the couch's arms and crossed her legs daintily, back still straight and attention flickering between Lucifer and Bucky.

She emerges from slowly sipping at her drink to reply to the club owner, "I liked the idea of charms. They aren't scary. Well, scary like, they don't require the crazy kind of stuff that things like necromancy requires. Ewugh." Her shudder isn't affected. "I don't think I want to combine something like exorcism and charms either. I want the little tricks that linger -- helpful stuff." Bucky gets another grin, cajoling.

Oh dear, a cat-burglar with charms up her suit-sleeves.

Winter Soldier has posed:
He's got that pokerface on, deliberate. Curious, it's clear, but....they're still talking business. James keeps glancing around, but for the most part, he's studying Lucifer himself. Not making any real secret of his scrutiny. Has he decided if he thinks the Morningstar is who he claims to be? Apparently it's still up in the air.

He favors Lucifer with a little smile at the joke. "Yeah, gotta at least pull a rabbit outta a hat to impress me," he opines.

Lucifer has posed:
"Well," the devilish, handsome man sighs, moving to seat himself on the couch opposite Felicia. He doesn't push into her personal space even one iota. He reclines where he is, passing a few fingers up his neck into his five o'clock shadow along his jawline and chin. Lucifer has an uncomfortably handsome look: one normally reserved for highly successful plastic surgery results. But still kind of 'unnatural'.

"Unless you want to perform an exorcism on a demon tonight, I don't really have a lot of other magical capitol just hanging around here," Lucifer shrugs, drinking his whiskey. He treats it like it is delicious: he might be drinking it for the flavor, with that savoring behavior he's doing.

"A rabbit, hm. We'll see if one can be dragged out of a hole before the end of the night, but I make no guarantees." A loft of brow and sly grin follow.

"But to improve reading list on minor charms, I know of some books. Not really my favorite of those. They seem to end up in love potions, which is a peeve of mine."

Black Cat has posed:
"I'd appreciate the reading list. I don't think I want to do any...love potions. I mean...that just sounds like trouble," Felicia opines with an idle kicking motion of her foot. She looks down into her drink for a second before shrugging animatedly.

"But hey, knowledge is power and you get it from reading books, so...if knowledge is power, and power corrupts, I'm on my way to taking over the world. Beware, world." Felicia might already be entering the realm of buzzed, given she's drinking on an empty stomach.

"Lucifer knows a lot about magic though, James, if you have any questions for him. I mean..." The pause is brief and she considers the Soldier with a squint. "It wasn't //little// magic that we saw." Uh oh, 'we'.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Felicia knows that expression. More specifically, the particular gradation of *lack* of expression, the full-on I Don't Wanna Talk About It face. James shakes his head, mutely. Apparently he won't mention L #1 in the house of L #2. They probably know about each other - surely they must. But it's like he's afraid to even discuss it. Winter is still only sleeping....and maybe Lux's host could wake him.

Lucifer has posed:
"Please tell me you don't want the reading list right now," Lucifer asks, wrinkling his nose. "I'll send it in text, all right? When I'm not enjoying my evening or would prefer to head downstairs to dance." A cheeky grin appears. "It isn't as if you'd go shopping right now regardless, is it?"

Pamela knocks and enters, bestowing upon Bucky his ginger ale. Lucifer's dark eyes flow over it idly, then fix again on Bucky. "Not much for conversation, my new friend?" Lucifer asks. His tone is somewhat intrusive, but not actively pushy. Lucifer just likes to engage. "If you have something on your mind, please do lay it on us," he requests, once again coaxing.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's fingernails make a muted tapping on the pocket of her jeans, where her phone is tucked away. How it got into that pocket is also a mystery with the clinging fit of the pants.

"Shoot me the list whenever, we'll go get the books and then go do lunch or something," the socialite decides before finishing the rest of her drink.

"I'd like another of this one, please?" she asks of Pamela quickly, rotating the empty glass back and forth, before diverting her attention to Lucifer and then Bucky. Poor Barnes: two sets of keen eyes upon him now. She pouts her crimson-painted lower lip faintly at his expression.

"Well, I'm not afraid of him." What cheek. "The little bit of magic I'm talking about belonged to Loki. You know...that smarmy, tricksy, underhanded bastard. Thor's brother or //whatever//." Ugh -- cue buzzed eyeroll.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Winter Soldier lifts his ungloved hand, palm out. "Oh, no," he says, mildly. "No, I dunno much about magic, so, y'know, I'm just listening and learning." Murmured thanks for his ginger ale, which he sips from. They don't make it like he remembers....but then, that's so very true of nearly everything.

Especially Steves.

He doesn't flinch at the mention of Loki....but nor does he speak up, even then.

Lucifer has posed:
"Not from your..." Lucifer gestures with a few fingers towards the ring on Felicia's hand in the proper ring-finger position for engagement, "Supreme of Romance?" Lucifer queries. He noticed THAT detail, most definitely: when he had her hand earlier and decided not to kiss the back of it.

Devil's in the details.

"Loki, yes. I do know," Lucifer answers, as if the topic were amusing to him but not something to get worked up over. "Asgard 'godling' of petty entertainment," Lucifer describes. "What drives Asgardians to meddle here has never really made much sense to me, but they stay well out of my path, which suits me fine. Can't //imagine// why a boy so full of lies might hide from a burning ray of truth such as myself." There's a grin there, playful.

Black Cat has posed:
Blinking, Felicia glances down at the hand in question. The ring, rose-gold with an aurora borealis stone inset that dances with a subtle celestial storm of color regardless of ambient light, has fit so perfectly on her hand that it's become a thing of second nature.

"Oh." A pleased little blush touches her cheeks and she twiddles the fingers of her left hand, reminding herself of its weight. "Yeah, he's got books, but I don't know which ones to look for. You send me the list and we'll still go get whichever ones he doesn't have."

There is, however, a devilish satisfaction in her eyes as she hears Lucifer's thoughts on the youngest Odison. "Yeah, well...I'd pay to see you talk to him. I bet he'd be babbling faster than a frat kid caught red-handed in a panty raid."

Lucifer has posed:
Pamela knocks again, and looks extremely apologetic. She enters, and slips Lucifer a note.

"Do excuse me, one moment," Lucifer says, grandly, to both Felicia and Bucky, looking over the piece of paper, and then giving a short, sharp exhale.

"Well. It appears I have /duties/ that cannot, in fact, wait," Lucifer comments, though he doesn't seem upset in particular. He's making a choice, perhaps. "Do enjoy the private room, should the mood go that way.... and take care of them, on us, Pamela," he instructs her, as he stands and heads off, fingering the paper's edge as if it might, in fact, be quite interesting indeed.