13216/Two Wolves, One Den

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Two Wolves, One Den
Date of Scene: 06 May 2021
Location: Club Lux, Melville
Synopsis: Vlad pays a visit to Lucifer. Offers are made and needs are met.
Cast of Characters: Lucifer, Dracula




Lucifer has posed:
It's late night. The lights outside are off, the sheep have all left to go back to their fields, or perhaps other dens to continue their night out. For Lucifer, he's closed up shop and gotten rid of everyone. Not that it was an early closing by any means, and while the Devil doesn't need sleep, sometimes he does need a reprieve.

Sitting at the grand piano, his fingers dance over the keys as he fills the empty air with sounds of a Moonlight Sonata - something he favors playing - a glass of whiskey sits on top on a coaster, almost forgotten in the midst of his playing. A wolf, alone in his den, with nothing but his own thoughts to consume him. The Devil's getting bored again...this could be dangerous.

Dracula has posed:
No sleep for the weary, or for the wicked. There are many who consider Dracula to be definitely in the latter category. Yet he rests when he must, which is not tonight. In an alley a couple of doors away, the hunger of the Count was fully sated. And for this time, he let the victim go with nary a memory of his feeding.

Dressed all in black is how Vlad happens to be tonight. That neat and trim outfit of a peacoat, long-sleeved matte silk shirt with a crimson pocket square, slacks, and matte leather shoes. He has his cane as well, which is also a sword, just in case. One never knows when one might need to defend one's self. And he's had a bit of practice at that, over the years. His hair is black -- above shoulder length by a couple of inches, as is the neat and tidy goatee and mustache at his upper lip, and his eyes are so dark of a brown as to be nearly black as well. Though the lights are off outside, it doesn't stop him from stepping to the door, opening it, and then taking a step within. He could hear the music from outside, from the alley where he'd fed.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer continues playing, eyes closed, like he's really lost in the beauty of the music he's producing, but not in a vain way. More just enjoying it for what it's worth, and for him sometimes playing in solitude helps him clear his mind of whatever fills it. The angst he has to some degree, the pining that always seems to fill him. Things come and go from this mortal shell of a life he's decided to partake since ruling Hell didn't much satisfy him anymore but it comes with a multitude of FEELINGS.

Perhaps his ears flick, perhaps his nose scents, however it's done, he knows that he's not as alone now as he was a moment ago. A smirk curls the edges of his lips and his eyes open, solid black save for the flickering of hellfire where pupils would be. "You know, we're going to keep having this conversation about wolves in dens...you should consider yourself so lucky you've an open invitation to mine." There's humor in his voice, tinged with something else. Something..more..but precisely what is likely hard to say.

Dracula has posed:
It is a beautiful piece of music. It happens to be one that Vlad is rather fond of, and his pointed ears are perked up, listening to each subtle nuance that Lucifer grants the piece. Life has feelings. It can't be helped, not even for one such as what the Count is, with his endless hunger.

The door is quietly closed behind him, for he has respect for the music being played. Perhaps even respect for the man who plays the music, too. A flicker of blood red shows briefly in his dark eyes, even though his hunger is sated, and he inclines his head slightly towards where Lucifer sits at the piano. "It may become something of a thing, as might be said," Dracula says, a hint of a smile touching at the corners of his lips. The cane is kept in his right hand, and his left hand rests lightly at his side. "I rather do consider myself to be lucky, in that regard. Most wolves tend to live a solitary existence. If I had a local den, then you would be most welcome to it," he says softly, inclining his head towards Lucifer. He steps away from the door to move further within the establishment.

Lucifer has posed:
The tune continues to play until it's drawn to it's full finale, the last notes lingering in the air briefly until they - too - fade into the dimmed darkness. Lucifer then turns on the bench to face Dracula more properly, standing and approaching the man as he enters. "I think you and I are the type of wolves that can only take the solitary existence for so long. Then we become...ravenous. Desperate. There's only so much solace one can take if they've let it surround them for as long as you and I have." He then motions to a table, offering Dracula to take the lead in walking. "Care to sit?" A scent. "Mmn...was your meal adequate enough for you tonight?" That smirk remains, his eyes continue to remain black with those flickering flames. Perhaps to keep a certain...dominance...territorial stake...within these walls.

Dracula has posed:
It takes a moment longer for the notes to fade from Dracula's hearing, keen as it is, for his senses are beyond the human scope. He tilts his head a touch to one side, considering the words, and then he gives a small nod. "A solitary existence is well and good for certain things, but... it reaches a point where it must be broken, where some form of companionship must be sought lest the humanity left within be let to dwindle and be snuffed entirely," he comments. He is more than just his hunger, after all.

The Count inclines his head slightly towards Lucifer, and he makes his way towards the table that had been indicated. The cane isn't used in earnest, for he has no need of it, though the tip of it does touch the ground here and there. "Thank you," he says, in response to the offer. Once to the table, he draws out a chair, hooks his cane over the back of it, then slips his peacoat off his shoulders to hang it at the back of the chair before he settles to it and crosses his legs at the knee, the movement graceful. "It may have been sufficient, for the moment. Depending on what efforts might be required through the rest of the night," he comments, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There are things that make him hungry, after all. "Although if that is an offer, the hunger is never far afield," he adds, giving a soft chuckle. He's noticed the appearance of the other man's eyes, and he tilts his head faintly to one side. "It was not one of your guests," he adds.

Lucifer has posed:
"You're right, of course. Though some would argue that I haven't a shred of humanity to try and salvage." This offered as he takes a seat across from Dracula, for the moment, studying the man a bit longer. "I suppose that all depends on what you want me to offer.." Lucifer extends, his lips curled still in an ever-present grin. "I'm sure there are a few...hungers..of yours I could try and slake if you wanted me to." He tilts his head to the side just so and then lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "As soon as they exit the doors they are no longer my guests. Unless you mean one of those who I hold a bit closer to breast than most...and I'm sure it wasn't one of them. As none of them were here this evening." Much to Lucifer's chagrin, of course. He blinks, and his eyes begin to return to their more earthly coloration of blue so perhaps it's just something he's lost a bit of control over in the moment.

Dracula has posed:
"There are times when I manage to be right," Vlad comments, a hint of a smile tugging his lips. "Clearly, those who argue it are ones who are unaware of the truth of the matter. If there was not at least a shred of humanity within you then you would not care what happens to any of your guests. Let alone those whom have earned something of a special place," he says, studying the other man as he speaks. He chuckles softly, and then he lifts one of his shoulders in a faint shrug.

"There is naught that you are required to offer. What I might or might not want is of little import. What you might be willing to offer, however, is a thing that leads to curiosity," he says, one of his eyebrows quirking up just a touch. "Perhaps I shall have to make a point of coming about here more often. Perhaps I might come to meet those whom you hold more dear," he says in a thoughtful tone. "Do I give you cause to feel territorial?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer chuckles and nods his head. "I suppose so, clearly." Commenting that much before tilting his head and he nods once more. "Well, yes, there is that argument. There is also the fact that I have cared and loved humanity far more than they give me credit for. I'm shunned for giving man wisdom, and yet without wisdom they would never have managed this much in their existence.." He offers and then sighs.

"I digress a bit. It's really neither here nor there. Also, no, you are not the one causing me to feel territorial. Some things have happened this week that leave me feeling such. One moment after another, I suppose I was thinking on them while I was playing, but also just sort of letting myself loosen a bit, let go...ha... if you had been any later you might have caught me in true form." The man laughs then before leaning forward a bit. "I'm willing to offer whatever you need or want. This is likely where we will never get anywhere, both too stubborn to name anything that such could possibly be. I am, however, trying to set up a way to have something on tap here for you to partake. It's just learning how to keep it pure...cause blood can go bad I think." He seems to consider this for a moment longer before letting it turn into a passing thought. "You should come by more often. I would like to introduce you to a few of those I consider dear and trusting."

Dracula has posed:
"There is that aspect to it as well," comments the Count, watching Lucifer. "You offered to humanity the gift of knowledge and wisdom, and for that... well," he pauses, lifting one of his hands in a slight gesture as though to indicate the world around them. "Man makes many leaps and bounds in the name of science and technology and yet your name never earns the thanks for offering up the path to it to start with," he muses, his tone thoughtful in nature.

"Do you wish to share on what your week has held? Perhaps to speak on them will lessen their weight upon you. Wolves have a way of making their kindred feel such, and so I felt it prudent to ask," he says, inclining his head towards Lucifer. He's quiet a moment, perhaps considering the words from the other. "We are wolves, Lucifer. Stubborn is in our very nature. A need must not be spoken of lest it be read as a weakness, a vulnerability, and thus exploited by another. Outwardly, we are required to be strong and nigh unflappable," he says, his tongue flicking out briefly over his lips. As blood is spoken on, there's that flicker of red within his dark eyes, and he shifts slightly where he sits, to lean just a touch forward. "There are ways of keeping whole blood fresh. It can be frozen to a certain degree and it can be refrigerated, up to a certain period of time. It can go bad, yes. I prefer to partake of it at a warm temperature," Dracula says in a thoughtful tone. Where warm means living body temperature, not that he specifies. "I will have to make a point of being here more oft, then."

Lucifer has posed:
"Perhaps I could come up with a way of keeping it chilled in storage, and then flash heating it to a preferred warmth when it's being poured into a glass for you..." Lucifer thinks outloud, actually seeming serious about the thought as well - and he's already seemingly put some thought into the general concept as a whole. He watches Dracula for a moment and then lifts his shoulders in a gentle shrug.

"You remember when I had that grand reopening to reveal the club?" He begins. "A young lady came with a friend. Her name is Phoebe Beacon. We did not meet that night, but her friend left behind their wallet. I happened to run into Phoebe a few nights later in Gotham...maybe not by coincidence so much as I sought her out. She's been coming by the last few nights. Apparently she knows not what she is... but there is something about her. She literally radiates purity." He pauses, suddenly itching at his chest. "And her touch itches...in that annoying, pins and needles tingle way...I hate it...but she's intriguing." A pause. "I hate that too. Cause I can't DO anything about it but accept it..." He shrugs. "Plus the usual pig on the dance floor harassing a female, and now I have to deal with people snatch grabbing in the casino but... this woman, Dracula..."

Dracula has posed:
"There are likely ways of doing so. It is something of an unorthodox solution to my particular situation," the Count says, a thoughtful tone to his voice. "I believe the cells within the blood will rupture if they pass a certain temperature," he offers, one of his eyebrows quirking up a touch. It is an unusual solution and one that he'd not particularly considered himself. He tilts his head a touch to one side, studying Lucifer for a long moment. "You have given this a measure of thought already. If you are able to make this work, then I will be most grateful to you for it. It will grant a certain amount of security that I am unused to having," he says, his tone a subtle bit softer in tone.

"Yes. I recall the grand reopening. There had been matters that required my attention and caused me to be unable to attend," he says, then gives a small shake of his head as though to dismiss his own issues of that night. "I have not met anyone by the name that you have mentioned. It would be a curious thing to meet such a woman, to be sure. Although... I must admit to not knowing what the touch of one such as herself would do to one such as I," he says, his dark eyes showing a brief spark to them. Then he tilts his head a touch to one side, considering a touch further. "Perhaps some of the sheep are a touch more interesting than others. Sometimes, there are some things that are simply for us to accept rather than do anything about. Yet perhaps those who see fit to act like pigs ought be treated as pigs as well," he says in a smooth yet dark voice. Evil intent lurks there, for such pigs would be quite useful as blood donors for the purposes of satisfying his hunger. "I prefer Vlad, actually," he adds, one of his eyebrows quirking up a touch.

Lucifer has posed:
"Not that I want to take away from whatever thrill you might get when hunting your prey...but if you're going to visit here...I may as well have a way to slake your thirst." Lucifer offers this much before giving the man across from him a smile. "It would only be fair to do such as well, I think. So it is something I am really going to have to figure out..." He comments this much more on it before leaning back in his chair some. A glance to the piano and he reaches, letting the glass of whiskey float over to him - since Dracula wouldn't likely care about the sight of it.

There's a moment taken as he listens further to what Dracula says and then gives a nod of his head. "Perhaps. I do believe these pigs would surely be ripe for slaughter. Those are surely the ones that I wouldn't mind you feasting upon. In private, of course." A smirk and a chuckle follow that statement and then he looks the man across from him over once fully before inclining his head. "My apologies. I shall surely keep that in mind, Vlad." He moves a hand to scrub it over his face before letting out a deep sigh. "Anyway. There's Miss Beacon. Then there's another woman named Andrea. She played here on grand opening. Cute little minx, her boyfriends a looker as well. I feel like I am surrounding myself with delicacies and then I have to find out I'm not allowed to partake for one reason or another. It may be actually killing me."

Dracula has posed:
The Count lifts one of his hands and makes a slight gesture with one of his hands, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "The thrill of the hunt can never be stolen. And while I do rather enjoy to hunt, there is something to be said for having a somewhat easier meal, now and again. To be slightly... civilized, at least whilst I happen to be visiting here, as it seems that will be something that happens with greater frequency," he says, a smile tugging anew at the corners of his lips. To be able to get what he needs by drinking from a glass rather than literally sucking the lifeblood from someone's body. "And it may serve well to have such an option here at my disposal as there are things which can serve to make me hunger more quickly," he comments, inclining his head slightly towards Lucifer. It's not exactly a specific feeding schedule that he has, as blood fuels many of the things that he can do.

He notices the float of the glass of whiskey, and he seems... amused by it, judging by the sparkle that touches his dark eyes. He is capable of similar acts, though doesn't often employ them. There's a glitter that shows in his eyes, and he inclines his head towards Lucifer. "You will need to point them out, then, and I will make swift work of them. The hunger knows no bounds," he adds. Now this? This, he might be looking forward to. Such people who go against his code of honour are so deserving of death, and he is more than willing to grant it to them. "There is no need for an apology. The only way of knowing such a thing is to be told it, and there are not many who have earned being told it," comments the Count. He listens, and he tilts his head a touch to one side, studying Lucifer for a long moment. "And what prevents you from indulging in any of the three of them, if they are something that you have wish of?" he asks, curious.

Lucifer has posed:
"Well then. I will endeavor to try and come up with something that works. As well as let you know of pigs that need to go to slaughter." Lucifer says this much with a grin and a nod. That out of the way, he seems to consider their other topics of conversation. "Well then, I appreciate the trust being given to allow me to know such a preference." That much more is offered, and he takes a slow sip of his whiskey. "Because Andrea is with her boyfriend, and neither are into...shared...group...whatevers. I respect her enough and she trusts me enough that I could never." It's a thing. A curse really. "And...to lay with purity...I mean..." He trails off then before chuckling. "But they are surely fun to tease."

Dracula has posed:
"Science is a rather amazing thing and capable of a great many things. Perhaps a stirred tank might be the best. The temperatures sub zero to keep it frozen and yet stirred to keep it somewhat like slush instead of more solid. The tube it is piped through could be heated to thaw it and heat it to the appropriate temperature on the way to where it is dispensed from, and then the pipe would drawin back into the tank so that none was left in it to go bad in between servings," Vlad muses, his tone thoughtful. "It is a notion that could perhaps due to have some experimentation to it," he says, inclining his head towards Lucifer. "The trust is deserved, unless I have been faulty in my judgement," he comments, a flicker showing in his dark eyes. He studies the fellow for a long moment, and then he gives a small nod. "It is a challenging thing, sometimes. To respect someone enough that you will not venture against their wishes. Yet teasing, well... therein might lie an eternity of torment, and perhaps the teasing might encourage for some alteration in actions," he says, a smile tugging and teasing at his lips.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer seems to actually think on this for a few more moments and then gives a nod of his head while sipping at his whiskey again. "Mmn, yes. I can see that. We'll have to figure out at what point we can gently heat the blood to and get both the desired effect and not ruin the batch.." He taps a finger against his chin and then shrugs his shoulders before finishing off his whiskey, setting the glass aside. "Well, I hope to continue deserving that trust. I would hate to ever get on your bad side, Vlad. As much as I am sure you would hate getting on mine." He says and then tilts his head. "Ah, challenging. Torturous. Perhaps I could sway one, maybe the other. But Phoebe is not one to sway. She is certainly one to watch..." Those dark blue eyes catch Vlad's own dark brown almost black gaze. "Besides, I've got a few others who might be slipping into my sights...might could use them to break the curse of teasing the unattainable."

Dracula has posed:
The tall man tilts his head a touch to one side, and he gives a small nod. "It would be fine to go to a fair temperature. If I recall correctly, it would be fine up to just shy of fifty degrees Celcius. At that point, the blood cells within it rupture. So, if it is heated to somewhat below that point, then that would be sufficient," Vlad says, inclining his head slightly towards Lucifer. Perhaps he's done a thing or two towards investigating this particular situation. It would make sense, given that he needs blood to survive. He chuckles softly, and then he gives a nod. "In this, you are not wrong. I believe that neither of us would wish to be on the other's bad side. We could make each other's life a living Hell," he comments with a measure of amusement, his dark eyes showing a sparkle to them. His gaze willingly meets that of Lucifer, and he gives a nod. "Then you will have to content yourself with watching her and tempting her. Perhaps her will shall sway, perhaps not. And there is a certain delight in watching. Perhaps I will have to take up watching the three that you have mentioned as well," he says, a thoughtful tone to his voice. He considers Lucifer for a lingering moment, and one of his eyebrows quirks up just a touch. "And who are you considering to be within your sights and attainable?" he asks, a flicker of curiosity to his voice.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer nods, and then lets the topic of blood temperatures sort of settle to the background, as there really are only so many ways you can suspect is right in storing blood. Though the way Vlad describes it, he certainly does seem to have a good grasp on what Lucifer should be aiming for with this system. Then there's speaking about not wanting to be on each others bad sides, which of course is a truth they have now both spoken. It's the last little bits that have him sort of staring off a moment. Perhaps he's thinking of the lovelies he can only try to tempt and woo, or perhaps he's trying to figure out just how to answer that question. "Surely you can decipher that I am dropping many a vulnerability being so open with you. Allowing you into my den, finding ways to adapt things so you can be...comfortable...here." A smirk. "I wouldn't do it just for anyone...and sometimes even wolves need a bit more viable prey."

Dracula has posed:
The Count has put a great deal of thought and experimentation into the preservation of blood. He's had a very good reason to. Back up plans are something of a necessity, given his particular constitution. He watches Lucifer whilst the man stares off, and he turns his right hand slightly before making a minute movement of two of his fingers. The glass of whiskey in Lucifer's hand neatly rises and floats over to Vlad. Smoothly, he lifts his right hand to claim it and take a sip of the amber liquid within, his tongue flicking out lightly over his lips in the next moment. "Yes. Such a notion had crossed my mind, I must admit. Wolves are seldom so accomodating to others of their ilk," Vlad says, his voice smooth and rich. "I appreciate that you are willing to adapt things so that I will be more comfortable here. Generally, it is often only my castle keep where I can afford to feel thus. There are those whom, upon sussing out my nature, seek to devise all manner of plans by which to attempt to end my existence. Although I do find myself wondering what other comforts you may have in mind," he comments, one of his eyebrows quirking up a touch and a flicker of amusement showing in his dark eyes.

Lucifer has posed:
Suddenly bereft of his whiskey, Lucifer watches as the glass floats over so Vlad can claim it to take a sip from. Watching that tongue as it flicks over lips and then his own curl back into a grin. "I believe you and I are on the same shit list when it comes to people sussing out who we are. Oh sure, I have a handful of those who know my nature, believe my nature, and still they come around me. I'm fairly certain that there are many more who, if they knew they partook of The Devil's generosity, things would be a lot different around here." He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, and then leans forward some. "Which is why I think you - dear Vlad - deserve another spot of comfort. Plus, it helps me weed out the pigs among the sheep who've no idea they are amidst wolves. Not to mention..." He holds one arm out then, and his other hand uses a single nail to flick against his wrist which soon seeps a small bounty of crimson. "Blood on tap and random pigs may not be your only viable source here..."

Dracula has posed:
The Count lightly swirls the whiskey in the glass, his dark gaze lingering on Lucifer. "You are likely right, although they are more likely to plot my demise than yours. You, after all, have been around since the beginning of time. Many of them view me as a parasite," Vlad comments, a thoughtful tone to his voice. "There are some few, hereabouts, that know who and what I am, but I have tried not to be too obvious in my ways," he muses, inclining his head towards the fellow. He lifts the glass and takes another sip of the whiskey, savouring the amber brew. He tilts his head slightly to one side as he listens to the words that Lucifer has to say, and one of his eyebrows quirks up just a touch. And then there is the distraction of the cut being made, the welling of the blood, the scent of it to fill his nose. Even though he's fed, the hunger is a relentless beast within him, rising swiftly, turning his eyes entirely black save for the crimson in their cores. He reaches out, laying his thumb across the cut that Lucifer rent, the rest of his fingers slipping around his wrist, if he's permitted to claim it. "The hunger is always present," he says softly, reaching out to place the glass upon the table before he shifts, leaning a bit closer. "If I am to feed upon you, then it will not be from your wrist," he adds, rising smoothly to his feet to step closer to where Lucifer sits.

Lucifer has posed:
"I believe you do well enough. After all, no one is currently banging down the doors trying to get in and attack you." Lucifer offers and then waves a hand. "Or me." This, watching as Vlad swirls that whiskey, drinks more of it. There's a smirk on his lips as Vlad does so, and Lucifer is almost mesmerized by watching him do such. Then, he's offered his wrist, even cut it open for the man and such an offer does allow Vlad to take his wrist, watching as thumb lays across the cut and fingers slide around. He almost believes one thing is about to happen, and then something completely different occurs. Finding Vlad leaned in closer, speaking of the hunger, but also speaking of the preference on how he would wish to actually feed from Lucifer. The other man coming closer as he stands and steps forward. "Is that so?" Asking this and then, "so how would you prefer to feed upon me then, Dear Vlad?" His voice, at this point, has gone sultry and smooth and is an octave lower.

Dracula has posed:
"It is a necessity," Vlad says, tilting his head faintly to one side. There are things that can hurt him, after all, and some that could even come close to killing him. Or at least making his life a living hell until he'd fed again. And he'd rather not go through any of those things again anytime soon. He doesn't release Lucifer's wrist from his hold, though he doesn't make it a hold of strength, either. He even keeps hold of it as Lucifer gets to his feet. His own height is greater, and once Lucifer is standing, he steps into the man's personal space. He lifts his right hand, bringing his fingers to rest at the side of Lucifer's neck and lightly drawing them along the skin there, one of his fingertips finding and tracing the main artery there. His dark gaze holds Lucifer's for a lingering moment, and then his gaze flicks away towards where the man's lifeblood pulses beneath his fingertip. "Like this," he says softly, his voice sultry and silky and dark and deep. He moves his fingertip, and there's a quiet snick as he makes a small opening to the artery there before lowering his hand to slip it around the other man. Before much blood has spilled, and certainly before any of it has fallen to the finery that either of them wears, Dracula brings his mouth to the wound to drink of the blood that rises there.

Lucifer has posed:
Most of the time Lucifer is very aware of everything around him. No matter where his attention is focused, there is always a point of his attention somewhere else. However, in this moment, such a trait is lost. His entire attention, is absolutely, on the taller man in front of him who towers him a bit even after he stands. He's not used to that either. So lost is The Devil in this moment that when he feels those fingers on his neck, that one which finds the main artery that pulses just beneath the skin, he feels himself shiver and inhales a shaky breath. He doesn't have time to really say much of anything before feeling that nail slice against the vein, hears those words, and then feels Vlad's lips begin to feed from the wound. Hands move to grasp against Vlad's forearms, his eyes go black, and he lets out a very distinctly pleasure-filled moan.

Dracula has posed:
The Count is rather used to being the tallest where he goes. It's something of a thing, and he's come to be used to it over the course of the centuries that he's lived thus far. The shiver that touched Lucifer was noticed, assuredly, as was that shaky breath as well. He is rather attentive, and his senses are quite keen, even when he lets the hunger loose to feed. He lets his arms be claimed with nary a fuss or fight, leaning in a little bit. He doesn't feed with any manner of haste, instead drinking slowly, his tongue lightly flicking over the bit of skin that he has captive as well. And he drinks for a little longer even after he's had his fill, and then he gently eases his mouth away from Lucifer's neck. His tongue flicks lightly over the wound he had left, and there's an almost purr of sound from the taller man. "Now...," he says softly, his voice low and silky and with a slight huskiness to it, "what would you have of me, now that I have had something of you?" There is a definite presence to him, his eyes returned to their dark brown colour and no longer possessed of that red at the core of them.