13462/The Quiet Den

The Quiet Den
Date of Scene:	08 June 2021
Location:	Club Lux, Melville
Synopsis:	Dracula comes to Lux and finds a slightly lamenting Lucifer.
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Dracula

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Lucifer has posed:
Once more into silence does the night go. The club has closed, the last of the patrons have vanished into the night - however they deem to continue it. Lucifer has had his share of ups and downs in the last several nights. From Light bringers, to Watchers, and mystics of all sorts coming and going. And he having to play the part of neutral party to it all.

With everything being quiet, and Lucifer having no cause to go upstairs to his empty penthouse, he settles at the piano within his club. Glass of whiskey ever present, and he takes the coin from Dracula out of his pocket to set next to the glass as well. Fingers begin to glide over keys as he plays some sort of melody, dramatic, dark. Fitting for whatever it is he's feeling in the moment. Other things having settled prickly on his mood, and so he lets it out in the only way he knows how that won't involve the destruction of humanity as anyone knows it.

He'll leave that to the AntiChrist should they ever show up.

Dracula has posed:
The silent times of night are oft the best times of night. Though he knows that he can easily get a meal from Lucifer, he is not keen on imposing or relying upon the fellow whenever the hunger strikes him. And so it is that Dracula has been hunting, his presence skirting amongst the night's shadows in pursuit of an ideal sheep. The notion of 'ideal' has very few criteria, though. He caught a victim and pulled her easily into an alleyway, drinking his fill from her before letting her limp body fall to the ground amongst the trash scattered space. He idly flicked a spot of blood from the lapel of his long black peacoat, then briefly adjusted the fall of it about himself.

Then he felt it, that flicker of something as the coin is handled, and his dark eyes unfocused. His tongue flicked out to slowly brush over his lips, capturing a lingering droplet of blood. He was in black, once again, as seemed to be his habit -- black slacks, a soft black shirt with a blue pocketsquare, and a pair of black boots that were tucked beneath his pantlegs. His black hair is of a medium length, for tonight, the cut of it layered and soft. It takes only a moment of thought, a breath of his power, and Dracula is no longer within the alley but is instead reappeared to be standing behind the figure of Lucifer there at the piano. Listening, quietly.

Lucifer has posed:
There's always a shift in the air when Dracula arrives. There's shift in the air when anyone with some sort of power comes around him, but for one of Dracula's stature to visit it's a significant enough shift for Lucifer to truly notice and be aware of it. Not to mention, following that shift in the air is the scent of the vampire lord. Fingers continue to glide over keys, still that dark and dreary tune - like someone suffering with no end in sight. Lucifer's self worth has many things of himself dependent on such a thing. His wings, his powers, his very nature perhaps. If there's something bothering him, if he's feeling down on himself, everything sort of drowns with him. If he were to show his wings, they'd be more leathery like a demon's than feathered as an angel.

It's not that he was actively ignoring Dracula, or the appearance of, and once he knows Dracula is there, all the locks on the doors flick shut so they cannot be interrupted. For the moment he's just sort of lost in the music he's playing, and then he sings. "Will it be alright if we tried again? Hold you tight again? We'll be alright again..." A bit more playing before he continues, "I want to be right by your side again. Say it's okay again. And just maybe never let you go again..." Poor Devil. All sorts of compromised it seems as he continues to play still.

Dracula has posed:
The power within him is centuries old, the mantle one that he earned from the creature that had sired him and turned him into what he is now. There is a hint of a smile that touches just at the corners of his lips whilst he watches the man at the piano, and his right hand rests lightly upon the top of the cane he has with him. He uses it not, he needs it not, but it serves as an additional sort of protection should such become necessary. He stands still where he had appeared, watching and listening.

Were he to sport them, his own wings would be those of a bat only sized appropriately so as to allow him flight. He hears the locks snick into place, and he cares not that it happens. Such things have no impact in him, for he can come and go as he places. The words that are sung draw him to perk his ears somewhat, and he easily glides forward until he stands directly behind Lucifer, within his personal space. The cane vanishes with but a thought, and he lifts his left hand to bring it to rest with feather lightness upon Lucifer's shoulder. "Who hath wronged you?" asks Vlad, his voice soft but rich and deep like a roll of thunder. His dark eyes glitter and turn entirely black, nigh like pieces of coal set within his fine and pale skinned features.

Lucifer has posed:
The tune which Lucifer plays comes to a delicate but fitting end as he feels that hand upon his shoulder, and the words that follow. A needless breath taken as he reaches for his whiskey and takes a slow drink from the glass. "That, my dearest, is a loaded question. The answer even more complicated. I have lost a bit lately. A friend, whom I thought was close. Perhaps for the best however...I had her as I wanted her...but now she's gone entirely." A pause. "Not dead, mind you. She just...simply wishes not to come here again. Which means her brother won't come around either." Many people would claim that the Master of Lies, the Serpent of Deceit, has no feelings. Harbors no emotion for those who come and go from his life. For many, that may be true, for very few it is not. When those few whom he trusts abandon him...it hurts. More than he likely cares to admit. "But what's one lowly pop star to a man like myself, hmm?" He asks then, reaching for the coin to slip it back into his pocket before he turns on the piano stool to face Dracula more proper then. "It is good to see you, dearest Vlad...I have missed you much."

Dracula has posed:
Softly do cool fingers move, from Lucifer's shoulder and to the side of his neck to lightly trace a single fingertip across his skin there. The touch is soft and slight, barely there. There is a soft and dark sound that comes from the elder vampire in the wake of the answer that is given. Lightly, his feet return to the floor. He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them again, they have returned to their dark brown and nearly black colouring. "I am sorry, that you have lost a friend. It is always a difficult thing," Vlad says softly. The words are, perhaps, a touch odd coming from him, given that he is generally a solitary sort of creature. But he has had and lost friends along the course of his long life.

"At least she is not dead. You may cross her path elsewhere than here, and perhaps that of her brother, as well," he comments, his tone thoughtful. He is quiet for a long moment, watching Lucifer. "The important part is not what her profession was -- it is that there was a certain amount of trust that you had placed in her care and that has been sundered in a most ingracious manner. Years ago, there would have been a duel fought over such a thing," he says softly, a dark note to his voice. He misses those days, sometimes. "I know you did not call, but," he pauses, lifting a hand to gesture slightly towards the coin, "I felt your touch upon it and decided to come. It is, as always, good to see you as well." There is a smile then which turns the corners of his lips, and he inclines his head slightly towards the Lord of Hell.

Lucifer has posed:
As he feels that barely there touch of finger tracking against his skin, Lucifer gives a shiver and parts his lips as if to moan from the feel. He keeps himself quiet for the moment, however, and his own eyes are their usual brilliant blue, but hellfire flickers within them none the less. "I fear I have put too much faith in the sheep, Vlad...too much faith. Too much of myself. I need to withdraw some. So perhaps it is best that a few fall off the radar. It hurts, but it seems necessary." Lucifer admits after a moment. As Dracula speaks about duels, Lucifer actually gives a chuckle. "Ah, such simpler times those...I'd probably have a better time fitting in and not giving much away...these days it seems it's so easy for me to drink in all the sinful delights people get from their actions here. It fuels me...and it fools me..."

A smile finally graces Lucifer's lips and he snaps fingers before pointing into the air, a sort of gesture like 'ah, but hang on a moment' and then he motions. "I have something to show you that I think you will both laugh at and love at the same time..." He leads Vlad then, to a little corner just off side from the dance floor and at the end of a line of tables. Pulling a curtain back he reveals a genuine confessional booth - like one would see in a Catholic church. "I'm going to get it fitted out as a photo booth, I think... but... for now it just tickles me that I have a confessional in my building."

Dracula has posed:
"It is, sometimes, a pitfall of living amongst them. They do not realize the powers that they toy with, and lessons ought be made of them for their folly. They are sheep, and largely unworthy, like chaff cast to the wind to be carried away," Vlad says, a dark tone lacing his words. There is almost a darker feeling to the room that comes to linger for a moment before fading back and away. "Aye, much simpler times, indeed. A sword to the heart of one's enemies, their blood spilled and wasted, and the matter was done with," he adds. Then he gives a dark chuckle, the sound like velvet. "The sheep are so willing and eager to sin, in droves. Sins were not so easily grasped, in yesteryear. The church had a firmer hand upon the citizenry," he muses, considering those times for a moment.

One of his eyebrows quirks up minutely at the 'aha' sort of gesture from Lucifer, and his curiosity is piqued. "I am intrigued," Vlad says, his head canting slightly to one side. And he follows Lucifer over to that corner where rests the curtain covered object. When it is revealed, the curtain pulled back, he takes a moment to look it over before he laughs, the sound rich and holding amusement. He steps up closer to Lucifer, looking over the booth for a longer moment before his dark gaze turns to the shorter fellow. "It does amuse, to be sure," he affirms. He steps closer to the booth then, lifting a hand to lightly trace the pattern of a cross that has been engraved into the wood. "Your sheep do not strike me as the sort to have much faith in the booth or what it represents. Just in case, do not be offended if I hold a certain amount of distance from it when the place is abuzz with your clientele," Vlad says, amusement in his voice. There might be a believer or two that actually puts faith into the confessional, but he doesn't sound too concerned over it and seems to be more amused than anything else.

Lucifer has posed:
"You kidding me? I'm surprised this hasn't been blasted to oblivion by a certain nameless person in my life." Lucifer quips and then he chuckles. "The sheep are so easy to sin, over and over...it's bliss. I doubt they'll put much faith in this contraption, and once it's more fitted to be a phone booth it will likely lose any sort of potency it may still have. However and assuredly, if you need to stay away from this at certain times, I will not be offended by it, and more so understand." All of that said, Lucifer still grins, turning to actually hook a finger into Vlad's pants and pulls him close - if allowed. "All that said... got any sins you wanna confess, my dear vampire lord?"

Dracula has posed:
"Perhaps it amuses him," Vlad offers, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He lifts his right hand to lightly pull his fingers through his black hair, his fingers lightly combing through the locks of it. "The sheep are ever willing to give in to their base natures, to their desires, and seem to think naught of their mortal soul until and unless such time arises as to make them aware of the peril that they have placed it in by their actions," he comments, bemused. He is quiet a moment, looking over the booth once more before his gaze turns to Lucifer, and he chuckles softly. "It is not the booth, itself, which I have a reserved amount of wariness for. The most mundane of items can serve as a token of faith if the person who is holding it is possessed of said faith. It is the faith of the one that gives any item power," Dracula explains, a thoughtful note to his words. "Perhaps they will not recognize it for what it is, and perhaps they will. The sheep can sometimes be an unpredictable lot," he muses. He allows himself to be thus hooked, and pulled closer, one of his eyebrow quirking up a touch. And he laughs, lightly. "I fear it may take a while, were I to confess my sins. There are some centuries worth of them that lie behind me."

Lucifer has posed:
"I think my entire existence amuses him and infuriates him at the same time. It's a wonderful thing.." Lucifer offers with another chuckle. He looks over to the confessional once more and then shrugs. "Oh I am well aware it is the faith of the sheep that make this powerful, otherwise I would not have shown it to you to begin with. I would never, intentionally, bring any harm to you." He offers this much more before taking a slow breath to let out once more, his whiskey drained and the glass set aside. With Vlad pulled closer, the comment about how long it would take to confess his sins just brings a grin to Lucifer's lips which then are brought with a lift upwards to press against Vlad's own. There's heat there, as well as desire, perhaps mixed with a few other emotions as well. He wants, longs, and almost needs this moment. The curtain he's pulled back is let go so that both his hands are free to clutch against Vlad's arms a moment later. <'Tis not the sins I care about anyway, my dearest. You are everything to me.>

Dracula has posed:
"That is a distinct possibility," comments the vampire, a thoughtful note to his voice. "Perhaps you perplex him," he muses, his dark eyes showing a spark of amusement to them. He has no living family, and so it is perhaps a different thing for him to ponder. His gaze turns towards the confessional, looking it over for a moment, and then he looks back to Lucifer before giving a nod. "Indeed, I know that you would not intentionally bring any harm to my being. It is part of why I have entrusted you with certain pieces of knowledge," he comments, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He leans down to meet the kiss that is sought of his own lips, and one of his hands lifts to twine his fingers into Lucifer's hair. He lets the moment linger for a moment before he withdraws from it, a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. He lifts his left hand to lightly touch Lucifer's side. <The sins will not change or be washed away, and they will be repeated many times over. It is in my nature.> He chuckles softly, shadows rising into the air around them both. "Am I, now? Perhaps we ought retire to a more comfortable location, and test such matters," he comments, his tone both dark and slightly amused.