10496/A Visit for the Holidays

A Visit for the Holidays
Date of Scene:	20 December 2019
Location:	Sanctum Santorum - Base Floor
Synopsis:	Happy Holidays from the Devil! - and a challenge to boot. How to resist?
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Black Cat

---

Lucifer has posed:
"Ho ho ho," Lucifer says brightly, as Felicia opens the door to let him inside. Lucifer is dressed in one of his usually beautifully tailored, expensive suits. His tie is rich emerald, against his blood-red shirt, which gives a nearly-holiday-not-really vibe. The Santa Hat, though, that completes the ensemble. He looks more like he's about to go on stage for a holiday concert or performance and panties might get thrown. THAT sort of 'performance'.

Lucifer also has a box under his arm, though it isn't wrapped; it has a long sheen of a garment box, bright red. "Merry greed and capitalism month, Felicia!" Lucifer announces, entirely upbeat and over-grinning as always. His ambiance is strong, he's dragging an aura of decadence with him that's thick, like some kind of cologne with no smell.

Black Cat has posed:
To a trill of laughter, Lucifer is allowed onto the premises of the Sanctum Sanctorum. His hostess can't hide all of the reaction behind an uplifted hand and frankly gives up when she moves to close the door behind him. She's in a pair of black slacks with flared cuffs and a svelte ivory-pale turtleneck, its threading metallic in gold in the right turn of the light. Perched atop her equally light hair, this loose down her back, a matching beret. Spots of color are holly-leaf shaped earrings, their berries little garnets, and -- of course -- her red-red lipstick.

"Happy Consumerism Month to you too, Lucifer," the Cat replies, her jade-green eyes twinkling behind thick dark lashes. "Look at you, proud to support it." Her gaze falls to the box and rises to his face again. "And here your present is still on its way. Amazon Prime promised me it would arrive by tomorrow. I hope they weren't lying!" A gesture of her hand encourages him to the side sitting room off the short entrance hall. Here, a fire is aready burning in the hearth and tea has been steeped, though by the smells, there's also coffee. Felicia has her own cup of this, liberally lightened with creamer; peppermint mocha to suit the season.

Lucifer has posed:
"No hurry on that. I enjoy violating all the rules and traditions of the 'holiday'," Lucifer chimes evenly, direct and entirely up front about the whole thing. "Meaaaaning---" Lucifer tilts the box, to show her the cloyingly cheerful tag on it. The tag reads 'Do not open until Christmas!' with three little children, one of them holding a finger to lips in a 'shhh' motion, the other two gasping with excitement. They're cherub-kids, with oversized heads, blonde fluffs of hair, cutie eyes. It's gross.

"You should open this right away," Lucifer finishes with finality. He carries the box to the side sitting room with a flourish though, leading the way to the side room. His pants are snug, it's not a bad view to follow Lucifer right now. "I'm not much for /rules/."

Black Cat has posed:
"Ooh, right away? Gosh, that's tempting..." Felicia gives her guest a slant look and smile brimming with earlier's amusement. She hazards that Lucifer might want coffee and, in another moment of memory, has a small decanter filled with golden liquor. Rather than dose his brew with creamer, he gets at least a finger of the whiskey if not more towards two fingers-worth into his mug.

This she delivers to him in one hand with the other palm-up expectantly for the box sporting its saccharine labeling. "Guess I'd better open it and save us all the trouble of having to be patient! How's business at the club? I assume it's busy with the holidays and people drinking their sorrows away?" Felicia takes up a minor hips-akilter pose as she asks, truly interested by her expression.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer hands over the long box, and accepts the mug with surprise and obvious flattered quality. He sniffs the coffee and takes a deep draught. "Ah, I'm /touched/, you remembered," Lucifer says, charmed. 'Touched' has an inflection that's decidedly naughty, but that's just a Lucifer 'thing'. Tee-hee. He takes another drink of the coffee, with a relaxed breath, as if he found it delicious. He does, in fact. "I'm all over the egg-nog idea too, for later," he smirks. He prowls to one side some, letting her inspect the package.

"Business varies; less clubbing than you might think; I don't particularly run an establishment that people associate with crying in /their/ egg-nog, as it were, so I do not collect the depressives that haunt bars this time of year," Lucifer observes. "Not a clientele I'm sad to discourage. Have you kept yourself busy, I hope, in this time of wild stress and cultural pressure?"

Black Cat has posed:
The box is fairly lightweight in her hands. Lucifer can see the Cat test its weight and even shift it from side to side, head tilted slightly to catch any sounds of its contents moving about. No sound, so she hazards to herself that it's not going to be anything metallic, ceramic, or glass.

A glance up at Lucifer comes with a cupid's bow smile. "I'd think you'd be happy to make folks happy during this time of year, but I can see how Lux might not be the first place they'd go. It isn't dark and gloomy and noir and full of curling smoke and 'play it again, Sam'," she says, then laughing quietly. "I've been busy enough, yes. Everybody wants to throw their little tea parties and soirees. It gives me a reason to get all fancy and make a showing." This is accompanied by a little shimmy of her shoulders even as her flawlessly-manicured fingernails get to working the packaging open. She's able to lift the lid after removing any outer wrapping or ribboning about it (the cherubic tag falls to the floor, summarily IGNORED, thankyouverymuch). A short gasp and purring, "Oooh...!" follows. At first glance, the contents are beneath tissue paper, but it's a pale garment with what could be fluff involved.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer is all grins, leaking confidence out like an over-eager humidifier. "Is it terribly inappropriate? Because that was what I was going for," Lucifer says smoothly, entirely direct and with no trace of shame. It's a game to him.

What does the box from the devil include? A gorgeous little white slip of a dress, shimmering fabric that sparkles like a disco ball and a diamond's crystalline child. It's probably extremely short; the straps are strands of sparkling stones on a near-invisible cord. It's a slip, sort of: and with the amount of fabric? It will rapidly become a Freudian slip, probably the whole time worn.

Under the slip of a dress is a little shrug of fluffy white fur. Whether it's real or not may be uncertain at just a glance. On the shrug, though, are two fluffy little cherub-like wings. They're charming and cute, quite small, but with Lucifer's smirk, he clearly thinks it's more than a bit hilarious. "Some naughty and nice for the season." Inappropriate? Yes. But it's Lucifer.

Black Cat has posed:
Begemmed straps twinkle in the warm ambient light of the room as Felicia sets the box down on one of the small tables in the room and runs a fingertip down each. Her teeth fret at one corner of her lip, but not in indecision: against more laughter that bubbles up despite herself in a pleased tittering. An indulgent sigh and she gives Lucifer a theatrical eyebrowing, complete with hands rested on her hips in another contrapposto stance.

"You are nothing but trouble, mister," she mock-chides him. "But you remembered too! I did want my own set of wings -- and the fur..." She glides fingertips along this too delicately and grins, glancing down at it. "If anybody decides to do a masquerade ball for the season, I've got my costume all picked out. You're such an enabler, Lucifer," and she clucks her tongue at him as she places the box's lid back atop it.

"I don't expect anything less of you." She grins another sharp grin even as Felicia walks to collect up her coffee and then back over to him. "I'm not going to tell you what I got you, however, so don't think you're going to get to me do so." A finger waggles at him.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer looks pleased as pie that she likes the gift, though he probably would have had the same expression if she'd told him off about how it was inappropriate to give someone that sort of thing if you're not dating them. Lucifer doesn't care. "Yes, let's pretend I remembered," Lucifer agrees over his mug. He may or may not have remembered; he isn't sure himself. He doesn't cling to things the way humans do. "I am exclusively trouble, yes," Lucifer decides.

As she tells him about what she's not going to do, though, Lucifer doesn't even pause, he looks directly into her eyes, and his aura bends outwards in a sudden pressure, deeply hypnotic, coaxing. "What /did/ you get me?" Lucifer questions, his voice full of a throb of power. "I know you do want to just tell me," murmurs the devilish man, eyes widening, dark pools of his gaze pulling, pulling.

Black Cat has posed:
Again, Felicia's teeth fret white against the corner of her red-red lip.

"...that's not fair," the thief complains quietly even as those dark eyes grow suddenly very interesting and it seems a terrible, terrible thing to leave the poor club-owner hanging in the gibbet of his own curiosity.

"I ordered you a t-shirt that says, 'What's your Favorite Sin?' on it and a bottle of Glenmorangie Grand Vintage Malt from 1991 because it scored the highest at the world whisky competition and I thought that might sound good even though I'm sure you've probably tasted better whisky. The t-shirt should be super-comfortable, even though I guessed at your size and I deliberately ordered it one half-size too small to make it fit more nicely because you have nice shoulders and all." The admission spills from her almost breathlessly before she blinks a few times and then scowls.

"Ooooooh, //YOU!//"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer's eyes remain large, but his grin is well beyond that in wattage. He lets the pressure of his gaze drop, amusement extremely apparent. There's an otherworldly little glint, a strangest little move of heavyhanded power in that glitter. It's like flame, orange and dancing: a flicker that could set off something extremely intense, but for now is just a tiny flit. Still, even at that amount, it shrieks of his nature, and in no manner is it angelic. He felt no reason to hide it: she knows. Well, she sort-of knows: seeing his angelic side and even hints of the depths of hell are very different things.

"Yes, I cheated. Bad Lucifer, /bad/," Lucifer says, lifting one hand to slap the other on the back. "Kind of you to notice my shoulders," he adds, setting his hands loosely in his pockets, appraising her, his eyes still just a little bit too flared.

Black Cat has posed:
And the vacationing King of Hell gets a plain old raspberry for his efforts at self-recriminating. It's obviously immature and based in fluster; those little werelights in the back of his eyes are something she's critically aware of. It makes her heart do a flipflop and her hindbrain wave a small red flag: scary business, take note. Felicia then smirks to help regain her composure.

"You dress like you know exactly what people are going to notice, Lucifer, don't play coy." Another click of her tongue. "If you ever wear anything loosely-fitted, I'm going to wonder what sort of statement you're trying to make."

Lucifer has posed:
"When I wear only a towel, it is loose," Lucifer answers. It is not coy at all, it is frank statement on his own personal sexiness level. "Though I do not often wear a towel for /long/, it usually leads into activities that are decidedly without any clothing." He wrinkles his nose just a little bit, well aware of the suggestions in what he's said, and not hiding from them. No, he'll just spread innuendo out like a red carpet.

"So the statement would be, so you don't have to wonder, 'let's get undressed'," Lucifer informs, drinking his coffee with a grin that's too much to actually be serene.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia purses her lips as she closes her eyes in a showing of gathering patience; it's partially this, but also yet another attempt to not titter. Her shoulders still jostle minutely despite herself.

"Cheers to loose towels," she ends up replying with a glittering grin of her own and lift of her coffee mug after she looks Lucifer dead in the face. She drinks deeply of it before sighing. "I'm a bigger fan of oversized terry bathrobes myself, but hey, to each their own. You've got a gal for Christmas then, oh suave one?" the thief asks, honestly curious despite herself.

Lucifer has posed:
"I'll have to get my own, since it turns out YOU did not get me one," Lucifer teases back smoothly, laughing. He's joking, naturally. "Cheers to /fallen/ towels," Lucifer declares, moving his mug to click it with Felicia's, and take another drink of his liquored coffee.

"I am in possession of several robes. I would imagine you can picture them. The movies don't get that one too far off; I wonder sometimes who informed them, but then I think: there's a /lot/ of people that have been to my bed, and I stop bothering to wonder," Lucifer chatters serenely. "I'm memorable." A wink follows, but he slides his eyes around the sanctum.

"Nice of your house to not attempt to banish me. I thought that might have been put into place since I stretched out here last time." The wings and proof of angelhood and all.

Black Cat has posed:
"Nobody's ever going to forget you," Felicia agrees humoringly with a flash of a grin. She follows his gaze around, wondering at what prompted the shift of attention, and then nods understanding once the reasoning is explained.

"I mean...the house wasn't sure what to make of it at first, honestly, and...I mean, it wasn't a small thing." Her shrug is more reserved, thoughtful. "But I think it keeps things simple when it can. I wasn't hurt or anything, so it didn't label you as anything bad." She turns to wander over and perch upon the arm of one of the plush reading chairs set near to the fireplace, her long leg daintily crossing over its partner. Her socks are ivory-and-pink striped, apparently, revealed better now that the cuffs of her pants lift. "I guess?" she adds, uncertain in the end.

Lucifer has posed:
"Yes, I ruin lives," Lucifer agrees cheerful. "Difficult act to follow, and all that. A plague on humanity's dark desires." Lucifer seems amused by the situation, but there's some other emotion under it: a strange little sadness? It's gone quickly. "With consent, obviously."

"Hmmm, reasons the house might allow me in --- well. Could be many things: could be I mean you no harm. Could be it just can't stop me. What else - a trap? Well. Should you hope to coax me in to gather spell reagents off me, you will find me a difficult target," Lucifer smirks. "The most powerful and rare spell component in this place is, incidentally, me. I bet you did not know that," laughs the devil. "Or more properly hair, or whatever. Not a component for a beginner's use, though. You'd summon something quite terrible and out of your depth."

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia stares, boggled.

"G - " A sharp sigh. "Fuck, Lucifer, seriously? You think I'd do that to you? What the hell." Her brows draw together sharply. "Nobody in this building," -- or in their right mind, she does not add -- " - is going to try and trap you or use any of you for magic. You're a friend. //Frien-duh//," she over-enunciates, a little color at her cheeks now. "I know you're scary. Believe me, I get it. Living with Copperfield has broadened my horizons waaaaaay more than I thought it would. If anyone had told me last year, 'Girl, you're going to end up rubbing elbows with the Devil', I would have been like, 'What are you smoking'. But you haven't ruined my life, not at all."

And so there, apparently, by how she sips her coffee just so.

Lucifer has posed:
"Oh, I wasn't suggesting it were possible. It's funny to me, really," Lucifer says, with a suave smile. He approaches her, attempting to rest a hand on her shoulder, though if she flinches at all he won't push it. "I trust that beyond just being a friend, you do know better than to turn me into an enemy," he teases. "But I understand /wanting/ things. It's just always, always _always_ better to ask me than to steal from the devil," Lucifer observes, with a tone that isn't entirely playful.

"I don't try to be scary. I'd rather not be scary; I'm on vacation. I'm a tourist," Lucifer says, hopeful, as if trying to coax her to see it that way.

Black Cat has posed:
The blonde appears mollified by the impossibility of it, accepting it as a thing of reality rather than filing it away as a threat. Lucifer is allowed his shoulder touch and his hand gets a light patpat in return.

"If anybody steals from you, I want to know about it, because man, there's a lesson to be learned there," Felicia agrees wrily. "And you're not scary -- right now," comes the amendment. "Because you're on vacation, yeah. I hope you're enjoying it. I'm...not sure why you'd want to vacation here, of all places, but...New York has its perks -- and I mean, I guess we're interesting, the people around here."

Lucifer has posed:
"Should you actively want to /try/ for something, though, I wouldn't mind creating a bit of a game for you. Diamonds as a prize, maybe, if you outfox some security, test it /out/, at Lux," Lucifer suggests slyly.

His manner is still friendly, but he loves to tempt people into things. Into flexing that itch of a challenge. Lucifer reads people like very few others, and it has an edge of perhaps feeling just a little intrusive. Which may make his hand more like a tarantula of hell for just a moment where it rests. A hand which has, in fact, sent spiders to crawl to places of extreme torture. Yet it's all covered in the handsome, pleasant wrapper: a thin curtain on a lot of what's underneath, for the Devil.

Black Cat has posed:
"Oh? A game, huh?" Felicia gives the Devil a look both intrigued and cautious at once. "This sounds like you're hiring me to further better your security, Mister Morningstar. Is this a job offer?" asks she even as she lifts her brows.

It's a very delightful morsel to offer out on a silver platter for a thief always wishing to best her competition.

"And just diamonds for a prize? Or something else? I can always go rustle up a few gems, that's not necessarily a hard thing to do. What else is on the table as a reward?" Bold as brass, the Cat continues giving Lucifer an expectant smirk.

Lucifer has posed:
"How could I forget. You prefer to have it be a surprise," Lucifer says with a snap of fingers, drinking his coffee mixture. He then moves to seat himself in one of the chairs: he doesn't need to be told to make himself at home. He'll just go ahead with that. He also seems to have located a box of chocolates on an end table, and helps himself there too. Clearly they are for favored guests. Like Lucifer.

"No diamonds then; something you will like, but I will not, in fact, say what it is," Lucifer decides, shrugging, but his grin his sly and sleek. "Perhaps something with an edge of magic. I think that's more //interesting//."

Black Cat has posed:
Drat the Devil. Felicia's eyes betray her with a subtle flare and consequential heavier lidding, their color deepening. Fingernails taptaptap on her mug as she leans lightly against the side of one of the room's other sitting chairs before she finally lets her teeth show in a thin sliver behind her red-red lips.

"Well...gosh and golly, that's a difficult offer to resist," she agrees thoughtfully. "And...when should I show up to test this security of yours? New security?" A breath and she adds, "Or maybe I should surprise you too. After all, isn't that the trick of it? Making unexpected visitors think twice about breaking in?"

Lucifer has posed:
"Oh, I'm already fit to be surprised with the gift you've gotten for me, don't forget," Lucifer chimes in innocently. He's about as innocent as a LAMB, see? A lamb made of sin and carnal desire.

"'Gosh and Golly'? Come on now, Felicia, if you're going to swear, really go for the gold. It will not hurt my tender sensibilities, though I know you're concerned for me," Lucifer teases with a chew of chocolate. "When? Let's see. Let me finish with my holiday insanity, and I'll give you a call," Lucifer suggests. "Make sure the prize is in place, and all that. Wouldn't //do// to have you trying to crack an empty safe, would it."

Black Cat has posed:
Lucifer gets a flat smirk. Surprised about his gift -- right, after his little display of powers. The Cat snickers into her drink before she sips at it. A little shift against the chair leans more of her hip against it.

"Oh yeeeaaah," Felicia drawls, still enjoying the syrupy slow mockery of fine speech. "It'd be a damned shame to weasel my way past your security and dance on over to an empty safe. Give me a buzz whenever then, Mister Morningstar, and we'll see how well your security stands up to little old me." Granted, the cat-burglar is already preening and calculating what implements she'll need to slink into the Club.

Lucifer has posed:
"All right, but do not directly antagonize my staff. Some of them are demons, I think it fair to warn you," Lucifer says directly. "Not to scare you; I wouldn't have told you if I'd wanted to frighten you." He splays his hands open, though one hand still holds a bit of a chocolate in between two long, elegant fingers.

"Though I can say Noralzeen has, in fact, gone home, much to her delight," Lucifer says, with a calming motion of his other hand while he pops the chocolate into his mouth and chews it with a thoughtful appreciation, as if siphoning all the joy out of the dessert.

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia grins very nearly from ear to ear for a second. "I'm glad to hear that I won't run into that bitch. Look, I get it -- " and the Cat lifts a hand and rolls her eyes. "She was doing her job, but I mean, really. I wasn't going to friend her on any social media site, that's for sure. Good riddance."

Still, she considers Lucifer. "I appreciate the warning. Like...really, I do. I figured you'd have some sort of spooky security going on in that place. I don't want to deal with any curses though, please, Copperfield won't be pleased and I'd rather you two got along. I don't want, like..." She shakes her head, briefly closing her eyes. "That's just a clusterfuck when I think about it."

Lucifer has posed:
"Curses? No, no," Lucifer says, gesturing with a hand. "My demons generally are used to applying a great deal of force physically all at once, often on a small surface area. Though I do not currently employ at my club any of the bears with multiple mouths or the demons made of leprosy-causing bees, there are still some terrors. And that's coming from me," Lucifer laughs with a wink. And he doesn't lie. He does joke, but it might not really sound like a lie.

"But they'll know not to dislocate your eyes from your head, should they catch you." Lucifer, full of reassurances! "Well then. What shall we do tonight? Perhaps a ritual to learn of some distant secrets?" Lucifer suggests, redirecting to their magic 'lesson' of the night.