13524/Plagues and the Devil that minds them

Plagues and the Devil that minds them
Date of Scene:	19 June 2021
Location:	Random corner of Melville
Synopsis:	Lucifer and Sinister meet on a rooftop during a storm and there's more than nature raging in the moment...
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Sinister

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Lucifer has posed:
Pregnant clouds have finally bursted open, drenching the streest of Melville with a torrential downpour. Along with such a burst of rain, lightning cracks the skies loose and thunder rumbles in it's wake. It's a perfect day for staying indoors where it's dry and comfortable, as only a fool or a crazy person would really be out in the middle of a storm like this, right? Unless, perhaps, your name is Lucifer and you can keep yourself dry with a little magic trick of putting a bubble around you to act like an umbrella for you and your immediate surroundings. Such is the way for Lucifer, laying on a rooftop and staring up at the skies while rain falls against the bubble but doesn't break through.

There's no telling how long the Devil has been up on the roof. Small rumors abound that Club Lux has been silent the last couple of nights, like it's turning into some Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory tale. At least it's not the weekend, which is likely when the club will re-open. Sometimes it's just like that.

Sinister has posed:
There's a certain business sense to not opening the club when your host is likely to go off the deep end and rail against Dad, the world, petty differences and other things and potentially go all red in the face. It's probably safer for everyone's sanity this way. Storms like this though are not terribly common and thusly, when you're reliant on certain natural factors to work with some unnatural ones, it brings out the Doctor Frankenstein in some.

It obscures Lucifer's vision for a moment, a kind of crazy snowflake device skitting across the clouds on the end of a string. No. Wait. That's a cable. ANd that's a kite of some kind, being flown in a powerful thunderstorm.

It traces down to a rooftop a few over, where a shadowy figure stoops and crouches beside a large boxy anchor with a couple of ground lights that look a bit dull. That is until one of the bolts catches the kite and zaps down. Dim red lights went to orange in one charge.

Thhe illumination painted Sinister in black and white, looking up at the sky and similarly not getting wet. The wind seems to still get through, whipping his hair about.

Lucifer has posed:
What one called business sense, others simply call insanity. Lucifer's losing money this way isn't he? Yet it is true, so close to an edge of any sort, and the man may not have a business when it's all said and done. That snowkite key on a cable does catch his eye and he shifts to stand - the bubble shifting with him - following the cable to see the man a few rooftops over. He smirks.

As that one bolt zaps down, those red lights go to orange and Sinister is bathed in black and white, Lucifer's curiosity is drawn. He steps forward and walks, over both ground and air, to clear both the rooftops and get closer to the shrouded man. The wind surely is a thing, this storm being a bit more on the violent side, but sometimes storms are just that way.

Doesn't matter if this one might maybe be kinda fueled by whatever laments the Devil suffers.

He crosses further until he shares rooftops with the other man and then turns his head back to the skies once more. "Kinda like playing with fire isn't it? Are you not afraid you might get burned in the process of it all?"

Sinister has posed:
A device at the base of the cord is fiddled with, a switch flipped and a set of industrial cables adjusted as Lucifer air-walks his way across the rooftops. That this is a thing should be no surprise and surely, Nathaniel Essex can sense the other 'storm brewing' nearby, given his senses.

"I wasn't afraid of the fire before, I do not suspect I shall be muchly afraid of it now," murmured against the howl of the wind, it's still clearly audible. There's a spark that paints him black and white once again then a hummm suggests that the dynamo has become better aligned by whatever he did and he straightens, looking over at the Lord of Hell with a small smile. "Never waste a damn good storm. You never know when you might need to use your lightning reserves."

He flicks hair back, which somehow becomes his serpentine multi-fronded cloak, which really does look quite spectacular in these kinds of violent winds, curling and whipping about him like a doomed mainsail before a hurricane and he the mast. He gestures between Lucifer and the heavens. "Your doing, or coincidence? Either way, Thank you."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer raises a brow at the way Sinister answers the question and then there's a little smirk that plays on the Devil's lips. "I suppose you do have a point there." He offers this and then hears that humm while looking between the contraptions on the roof and back up to the skies. "I had no idea anyone was still in the business of collecting lightning. Though I am also not surprised that, if it were to be anyone, it is you." This offered then as he glances back to Sinister.

There's nothing in Lucifer's eyes that give way to any other storm which may be brewing. Something he's likely trying to keep tucked away, but there are also more subtle hints to it than Lucifer might consider his mortal form is showing. A part of him would desire nothing more than to shift into his true form and go flying through the skies. It wouldn't hurt. No one would wonder. There are mutants of all sorts, and he would likely just be thought among them.

"Well. The storm was already threatening I just..." He wiggles his fingers. "Gave it a little incentive..." Though the winds were becoming just this side of annoying and so he looks up to the skies again, narrowing his eyes, and the winds don't completely go away but they do die down just a little bit. "So you're welcome. I suppose." A pause. "Did you ever make a decision about a building yesterday or are you mulling it over some still?"

Sinister has posed:
"It's still before the think tank. In my case, that's quite a literal statement," Sinister replies, glancing upward only briefly, keeping an eye on where the next bolt may or may not land. He narrows eyes and the cable feeds out another twenty feet of kite for a higher altitude, without him having to do anything else but that. "Technically, I could just plug things into the mains, or work up a generator for most situations, but there are a few things I have on the go that require natural lightning charge, or they don't respond the same way. That doesn't make a lot of sense scientifically, but biology can be a little squiffy when it comes to it."

There is a pause when he considers all of THIS, capitals for emphasis. "I didn't know you could control the weather. Interesting," then slowly, he rolls his neck to the side for a massive click at the point a second strike hits the kite. Orange goes to a nice bright blue-white, which appears to please him and with a snap, the kite collapses and the whole shebang rolls up back into its housing, the spokes clacking into place at the side.

"Are you in turmoil?" Nathaniel asks this like he were asking about the weather, which in a way, he is.

Lucifer has posed:
"I can't. Which is why I just gave Nature a little push in the direction I wanted things to go..." Lucifer offers quickly about the weather and then back tracks a little. "Mmn, like Frankenstein and his monster. Lightning has a quality to it, being more natural than something generated by some friction in a power plant elsewhere..." This said and then he seems to shrug his shoulders some.

When the last lightning bolt strikes, and things seem to please Sinister to a point, Lucifer watches while everything rolls back up like it was never all there to begin with. Masterful arts, and Lucifer does like watching them in play. It's that final question that has him giving a blink and then he shrugs.

"I wouldn't call it... turmoil. Just..." He stops himself, clears his throat, and then growls softly. Then he chuckles darkly. "I'll be fine. Just need to shed away some of this sticky, sickly mortality..."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister arches an eyebrow up. ANd damn, that man can do eyebrow arches like he was born to it. He might be part vulcan. FOlding his arms over his chest, the wind does wonders on his attire, bio-steel and tight black leather as it is, with electrode-laced vambracers and bare arms. "I'm something of an authority on that subject and I still feel that occasionally, it sneaks up on me. Usually when I am not expecting it to," he looks expectant, but this is likely to have a net zero effect on the Devil.

"Why is your mortality being sticky and sickly on you? ALthough I suppose, if you knew that you'd have fixed it by now."

Lucifer has posed:
"You know I gave humanity everything it could want in the form of an apple bitten by the first woman. They gained wisdom of all things. Clarity. The ability to know right from wrong. Ever since then, I've been marked the betrayer. I Fell for those actions..." Lucifer begins. "And throughout the centuries there has always been those who believe that I was wronged. That I shouldn't have been punished. Yet here I am. Those who believe in me, who believe I am not actually so evil..." He stops and shrugs. "None of this is new..."

There's a breath taken. "Point is, even now, out of Hell and into life as a mortal. Taking on mankind once again. Only this time I'm blending in, letting myself out here and there. Not shy about it, just a little careful. And just like always...people will worm their ways into gaining my trust." A pause for effect. "My personal trust..." Another pause and he looks to the skies.

"And just as easily, they rip away from it. Stab me in the back. Which I could say hurts worse than anything my father could toss at me." He sighs. "And still I let others in...but where will it lead me in the end. This mortality is sticky and sickly because it's seems to be seeping into me. Causing me to =care=. I shouldn't care. I'm the fucking Lord of Hell. I'm Lucifer Fucking Morningstar. Why should I give any damn or shit about someone ripping me apart....throwing my trust back into my face." There's a growl then. "So if that's the plan...for you or the others I've still let close to me...then you might as well get it over with. You and everyone else. I can lock myself away in a tower and Lux can run without me except for occasional appearances. I don't =have= to be present. I do it because I =like= it. Because their sins give me strength and yet...these recent times past I feel as though I have =weakened= and I despise it."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister genuinely didn't expect to receive an answer to the expectant look, judging by the fact that his other eyebrow joins the first in a half-mast uplift. He schools his features after this, thinking this through solemnly. "Well, that's an interesting kettle of fish," he says to begin with, then chews on his cheek for a moment, attempting to identify culprits and circling back to himself for a consideration. But that doesn't seem to raise any red flags. "Has... anything actually happened, or are you all in on anticipatory gut-wrenching, here?" the question is asked with a calm demeanor and the lusciousness of a deep tone.

"I suppose, when you are a metaphysical putty of celestial quality and you stuff yourself into a mortal glove, the putty of you is going to take on the shape you wear. It may actually be less of a weakness and more of an insight, as long as you can clearly differentiate between the messiness." He suggests, strolling a little closer and reaching a hand to Lucifer's shoulder. "Although, if it helps, sometimes I go for a long flight to nowhere, to hover over the land and watch all the lights, it helps to clear the mind and refocus. There is something about seeing the presence of the walking masses, whilst being apart from them, that helps reinforce the dividing line."

Lucifer has posed:
It was a moment of flaring, of speaking his mind and his fears, and then just as easily the Lord of Hell seems to droop. "A thing happened. That woman you brought up the other night...she's all but told me to my face it's all over. She'll no longer perform at the club. Cut every tie. Like I gave her a taste and she spat it back in my face." This much he offers. "And if a mortal can do that to me, then what can the immortal do? Worse? I speak at lengths with some of what may be when the immortality is shed and true death comes. And I fear." A smirk. "So I suppose it's a bit of both. Something happened which opened a path for me to be on an anticipatory gut-wrench path."

He takes a deep breath, and then looks to the hand that touches his shoulder. The simple action causes him to soften just a touch. "You might be onto something. A part of me desires to shed this mortal shell for a little bit. To exist as myself, but not in the public eye. Maybe I've gotten too close. Given a little too much. But then I fear that such a disappearing act will perhaps hurt the ones I've brought in closer. I don't want that either. Such an edge..." A hand lifts to touch against the one on his shoulder. "Suppose another part of it is not knowing what anyone really wants of me. Which is also slightly annoying." There's a sigh. "I tell you, Nathaniel, it's all just a little too prickly. I do apologize if I've...insulted you somehow."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister points at his face with his other hand. "Does this look insulted? Insulting perhaps, but insulted, no. Mildly confused and a little concerned, but intellectuals can work through their anxieties with a little effort, I find. Sometimes even by having a lengthy conversation with themselves." There is a wrinkle of the nose though, a measure of disdain for Andrea that he doesn't bother to hide. The scoff dismisses her overall worth as being transient and insubstantial. If he's wary however, it's only a tiny amount. He thinks for a moment.

"Would it help if I told you what I wanted of you?" He asks this as he sits down on the air, crossing his legs just so and floats there, head tilted in study. Something sinks in though. "Why would you fear the end of immortality in another? For you, it would simply be like having to take an international flight to go visit, surely. There are many that do not believe in heaven OR hell, after all, so where do they go?"

Lucifer has posed:
That casual and public dismissal of Andrea is noted and Lucifer actually chuckles. "I know, she ruffled your feathers. You cannot say she wasn't passionate though..." Then he shrugs. "If I could dismiss her from my memory so easily. I probably could, I just actually need to. Purge the mind a little. That's a thing."

He addresses the last bit first. "Fear wasn't the right word. There's not a lot of leeway..and I would have to maybe jump through a few hoops to get where someone goes if their beliefs aren't of my Hell." He offers. "So they go to some other destination, ran by someone else, and I gotta ask for favors which means favors owed and ugh...it's all just a thing. But, we don't intend to shed our mantles anytime soon so really it's just a pesky back of the mind thought." Then, he comes back around to that first question, remaining standing while looking Sinister over. "It might...if you know...and intend to keep such wants."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's face is serene as he listens, giving a soft sussuration of sound in the shape of a sub-vocal chuckle at the dismissal of Andrea from sight and mind. It does not shift much beyond that, save that he takes a long moment to dart and moisten his bottom lip, preparing for speech.

"I see. You'd have to get a tourist visa," he grins crooked at the continuation of his own analogy, listening the rest of the way to the conclusion at which he gives a kind of peaceful sigh.

"I don't want anything from you. I thought I did, when I first walked into Lux, but it's sublimed since then. And by that, I mean I'm not self-serving or seeking something manipulative. It was just nice to feel, so I suppose I lied there. I want to feel with you. Wanted to feel with you? It is past tense."

Lucifer has posed:
"Quite. Which is fine, in the long run of things, but also nothing that will be needed in the near future so.." Lucifer shrugs. "Neither here nor there, just something to keep in my mind is all, really." There's something now more calmed about the Devil as he stands there. Perhaps he simply needed to vent, though he'll likely still shed his mortal shell and go do some flying around off somewhere secret just to say he did. Cathartic and all that right?

It's the last bit that Sinister offers that has Lucifer tilting his head. The man doesn't want anything. Nothing with a self serving purpose, or seemingly otherwise. Perhaps such is fair, but there's also something about that which makes Lucifer seem to wither ever so slightly. "Ah. Well then. I suppose that does help put things into perspective." He offers. Past tense. Something wanted, but no longer. "You did say something about not knowing you needed what was had. So, at least there was that." A pause then as he looks up to quieting skies. "Maybe it will turn into a decent day for flying."

Sinister has posed:
"What I want now? Just... well, I suppose something I have no business wanting. You are spoken for." Sinister says with a faint smile that's a little bittersweet, he looks up at the heavens, nodding somewhat. "It has wonderful potential for sailing along on the thermals and updrafts, true enough.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer blinks, looking over to Sinister and then folds his arms across his chest. He actually looks completely baffled when that phrase is used. "I am not tied to any one person in a singular narrative, Nathaniel, if that is what you're meaning. Otherwise, most of my entire game would be knocked off it's rocker." A pause. "Or is it you're wanting to be the spoken tune and none other can be in the ensemble?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister blinks at this and shakes his head. "Lucifer, you're falling in love. Whomsoever it is that you're fearing the death of, even though it is not a plan until many eons from now, they've touched enough of you to make you -fear- that."

Lucifer has posed:
"Because one cannot fall in or be in love with more than one person?" Lucifer offers back. "I will not deny that I am falling in love with someone, because that would be a lie and I do not speak such things." Then he shifts, stepping forward to close the distance between himself and Sinister. "Nathaniel. Tell me what it is you want now."

Sinister has posed:
"...." Sinister lets the sound of nothing out as a soft, short expulsion of air. As Lucifer approaches, he adopts a perplexed look that rings every bell of genuine that's in the Oxford English dictionary. "One can love more than one person at a time, of course. I..." it short circuits. He presses his lips into a firm, annoyed line, not at Lucifer but at himself given the internalized aspect.

"Bloody hell." And then a wince, given who he's talking to.

There is a shake of head. "I couldn't tell you. Not that I don't wish to do so, more that I cannot put it into terms that don't sound inherantly foolish and childish."