13673/Oh, I do like to be beside the sea side...

Oh, I do like to be beside the sea side...
Date of Scene:	27 July 2021
Location:	Darlington Park, Sunnydale
Synopsis:	Sinister meets Constantine by the seaside. There's a monstrous merman and Lucifer's history with Constantine ruffles feathers that require soothing...
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Constantine, Lucifer

---

Sinister has posed:
Sea side parks are fantastic things, when it's not raining. One could say that this was an English summer day at the end of July, for it's been constantly drizzling and/or full on downpouring all day. As such, the picnic tables are empty, the park is littered with only the most stoic of joggers, boaters and the of-necessity dogwalkers.

Overlooking the water, there are a few lean-to covered benches, wrought iron and victorian looking where one might watch the waves or the kids whilst they're dabbling on the beach. Or in the rock pools. One such a bench is occupied by a figure in a black leather frock coat, a walking cane leaned at his side, silver handled and ebony. Essex' eyes are blue as a winter sky as he gazes out over the ocean, just... listening it seems; less Sinister today and more Nathaniel, one should still never be completely offguard. There is... something in the vicinity though. It feels odd, like the air is subtley... oily.

Constantine has posed:
"What are you seein' bud?" asks a voice coming in from out of sight. The scent of freshlit tobacco joins the smell of after-party... which include the taint of old tobacco. The owner of the British voice already has put away the lighter. The rain is leaving streaks of clean all along the man's trenchcoat, adding to his own 'oily' character. For a moment, he too stares out and that makes him look tired, old and something more. Wise? Knowledgeable?

"I don't see it," he says from behind the hand forming a protective horn around the cigarette. "Name's John." No offer of handshake, not even a gaze for his eyes are still scanning the sea. After a long drag and a wince, John produces a flask, uncorks it one handed, takes a good swig and winces again. Then a second swig.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's back straightens against the bench, his head subtley lifting along with his chin. "The waves, what else would I be seeing?" Comes the polite, utterly innocent reply. He too is British. English in fact. But where John Constantine walked in the cobbles and under the guttering of east London, Nathaniel Essex walked in the pristine halls of Oxford University. The difference is profound from one voice to the other; deep, polished and smooth. There is no rough around the edges to Sinister. A look under lashes and hatbrim, for he's wearing a panama hat of black leather, also.

"Nathaniel," is the reply, though something moves beneath the waves, skitters over and under it like a slippery eel. It draws Sinister's eyes back. "Oh, and that," he nods. "You smell like you've had better days... John, was it?"

Constantine has posed:
John sniffs. Could be the rain, could be a repressed snicker. "You could say that. Hmm. Gift of El." He glances at the other expatriate and says, "Nate," as acknoledgement. "You never know what peeps can glance, Nate. Safer to ask before the something tramples across your day." He looks down where he dropped the spent cigarette; it's already doused. He finds a crumpled pack of Silk Cuts and lights a new one without thinking, all automatisms of very practiced old habits, the cupping against the rain, the flame from his fingers, like a second nature. "Say... have you seen a midgety type fellow, pudgy with red eyes 'round these parts?"

Sinister has posed:
"No, should I have?" Sinister's jaw sets just a little at being called Nate, but he tolerates. It's all about the appearances. "I suspect that kind of an person would be quite noticeable." He glances along the beach, toward the distant sails of the die-harders. There's a decent wind, whenever it rains on the Atlantic, so they do make with the effort to use it when they can. Speaking of that wind, it picks up a sidelong cant, driving wetness even under the shelter of the little bench nook that Nathaniel's claimed. He sighs faintly and squints up at the heavens. "Very funny," muttered, then "...smells more like you just haven't drycleaned your coat. Like, ever."

In the waves, whatever it is sticks its head out, a pair of eyes and matted hair peering crocodilian toward the shore. Sinister gestures two fingers at his own eyes and points out to sea, clucking his tongue once. "I'm rather sure that's not supposed to be there, but I've been tracking it since just underneath the bridge to Melville. Interesting."

Constantine has posed:
The unkempt John in a dirty trenchoat shakes his head. "If I did, it'd take all the charm out of it. Sumthings don't care for mundanities." Wow, a four syllables words? "Is all good, is fine, Nate. Don't worry 'bout the lil' red guy, I was just asking. Funny story though, because I ran into that Persian woman a moon ago like and she said: my hubby ain't my hubby no more..."

Storytus interruptus. "What on Earth," John mutters, finding the thing Nathaniel just pointed at. He clicks his tongue, blinks one eye several time - surely to chase the rain away. "Not one of mine or it's straight out of a very new Hell."

Lucifer has posed:
Free of the vessel he was gifted by his lover, Lucifer is no where to be seen and then he simply...appears. Though he's steps away from the bench where Nathaniel sits upon and Constantine behind, it doesn't take but those steps for him to reach that very point. Nothing too difficult to do when one's mind is linked to anothers, thoughts travel far, pinpoints are made, and then an appearance is given. Lucifer smiles, immaculately dressed in a three piece suit of black, down to the shoes and tie. The only splash of color being the red kerchief that sticks pointedly out of his left breast pocket. Did he have business today? Just dressing his part? It's hard to say.

"Are the waves that interesting, Nathaniel?" Asking this, his own voice British even if the Devil is from nowhere yet everywhere. Specifically speaking as Above so Below as well. He settled on British English because - well the people seem to listen better to a person with an accent. Maybe he feels he sounds more important this way. Or just because he wanted to for the sheer hell of it. Pun illicitly intended. Finally, he sits, aside his lover and afront the company Nathaniel is keeping. He takes in the only commentary he's actually heard and looks out towards the waves himself. A hand is lifted, the pointer finger solely extended. "It is, surely, not from my Hell, and I'll consider it a kindness if such a place is not tossed around like yesterday's garbage."

Sinister has posed:
"Aren't they all technically connected? I don't know, honestly, I've never taken a tour outside of that one specific time..." Sinister smiles to Lucifer's arrival and as the Lord of Hell settles, leans in to press a rather chaste little kiss to the cheek. It's almost french, except he doesn't reach around the other side for another and a third. He looks toward Constantine, that very specific John an arches an eyebrow though -- there's an irony in that he probably could find out about the Persian woman if one existed, saving for the fact that a trip in some brains is not worth the afterfeels -- he looks back at the water.

"I think it's probably from the hellmouth. It turned the water bloody just in the shadow of the support columns underneath then dived. I had to track it with some care, but I'm pretty certain it shouldn't be near this park, even if it is pissing it down." A gesture up at the sky and a flourish of wrist has him sighing. "I think I want to actually try capturing it. I've been meaning to experiment on one of the dirty bloods."

Constantine has posed:
John but fidgets at the appearance of Lucifer, trying to shake of ash that is not at the end of his cigarette. "Hello, guv'nor. 'twas but figure of speach, no offense meant y'know? Since your institution's old at time and all." He quiets for a moment to let them high society types exchange nicenesses. Because of the rain, the flicked cigarette doesn't travel as far as it should, a mere two feet give or take. This time John doesn't light a new one but he does partake of his flask. After a moment of consideration, he wipes the neck under his armpit and offers the flask around.

"As long as you return it where it's from or burn it when you're done, it's no skin off my arse," John mutters in answer to the mention of 'experiments'. "But if it comes bumpin' 'round, I'll make sure you're there to clean up the mess." He glances up to Lucifer. "What's this 'Hellmouth'? I can think of half a dozen places that fit the name."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer smiles at the chaste kiss, and returns one in kind. Very French indeed. His attention turns to the water then, as both Nathaniel and Constantine talk about the creature that inhabits it this very moment. He glares, as if to look at it closer, and then lifts a single shoulder in a shrug. "Catching it might prove tricky...but I would love to help." He offers with a little grin before shaking some water off his form and in another moment has a cigarette between his lips and lights it with a snap of fingers. The pack itself is offered to Nathaniel.

"No harm done." He offers back to Constantine. "Funny to find you around and about here. Did something else shake loose and now you're chasing after it. I promise, I had nothing to do with it." A pause, perhaps for effect. "This time." Then he takes a drag off his cigarette and blows smoke skywards. When the flask is offered, he shakes his head. Nothing for him, in the moment, it would seem. "So, what else have I missed that's kept you out in this piss with interesting company kept?" This is asked to Nathaniel, as his gaze shifts to the man then.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister gestures with a thumb back in the general direction of sunnydale. "There's a hellmouth located under the city. It attracts bad things. Sometimes, they nest there, as far as I can tell, but I've only recently come to be even remotely concerned about their SNR rate (Sudden Neck Rupture) or other things. It's mostly dormant so I understand. There's another under Cleveland, but sometimes an idiot comes along with a plan and then you've got actual mayhem happening and not just half-blood human hybrid monstrosities." Nathaniel takes the cigarette as it's offered, leaning over to get a light a'la hellfire and puffing with sucked in cheeks. No Silk Cuts these, they're expensive and likely washed with the tears of the true addict, or somesuch thing.

He glances to Constantine, gives a little salute of the two fingers holding that smoke and a polite palm raise to the offer of under-arm cleaned hip flask. That might be contagious.

"I have a few questions for later, regarding recent activities actually. Not for the here and now, darling." THis of course, to Lucifer, he considers the ocean and the pissing down rain, then tries to track with eyes what he cannot easily see beneath the surface. Ultimately, he closes his eyes. "Gentlemen, it's mostly the containment that I think will prove interesting. Casual witnesses I doubt will be a problem. Uno momento por favor..." And with that said, he sweeps his cigarette hand around in a large circle infront of himself, trailing smoke to the cross-winds, then raises it skyward. An ENORMOUS amount of ocean in a circular invisible barrier lifts up from just offshore. In the midst of it is a thing about seven foot long give or take, that's thrashing around and banging off the sides. THis causes a wince.

Constantine has posed:
"My slate was cleaned, your royalty. Until now, I had no chase in my life... for a change." No offense is taken, the flask is pocketed. "I vacation in Africa and this's what I get... Bloody mess," John says, visibly depressed by the news. "Names, lad. Gotta remember them. Can't work without 'em." For sure, social smoking is contagious so he lights one of his own for a long long first drag. There's the audible click of a lighter so he must have had one earlier, well palmed. Not that the lighter is visible this time either.

Now that's interesting. And disturbing. "What's all that, Nate? Don't you make smoke circles willy-nilly and call 'em magic. Y'know it swims, right? In sea water, no less. You gonna need fire for that one."

Lucifer has posed:
"Clean slates are meant to be dirtied again." Lucifer offers before turning his attention back to Constantine for a moment. "Also, I prefer Lucifer." This much more before he looks back to whatever it is Sinister is doing, tilting his head as the man makes a vessel to hold sea creature within. A little smirk forms on his lips as he watches the massive creature get caught up in the telekenetic holding cell.

A glance is given back to Constantine after a moment. "What names? What? I am a little confused..." Then again, there's a bit going on and he's not sure if Constantine is talking to him or himself or whatever. A tilt of his head as he then stands - upon the mention of fire - and walks towards the edge next to where Nathaniel is. "Why would we need fire?"

Sinister has posed:
"I'm not entirely sure myself, unless there's a power in Names I'm unaware of," Sinister's nose starts to bleed just a little, a single line of red that inches down a droplet or two, then he ferries his cigarette to lips, letting it dangle as he raises his other hand, drawing the ball of seawater toward land. Up, over the beachline, over the rocks and onto paths, turning on the spot to face inland of Darlington park, only to rip both hands apart and kind of 'crack the egg' of the sphere, spilling the solid content in the middle and flinging the liquid back behind himself to the ocean again. Look! There goes a surprised fish.

What's left on the land looks like all that is NOT best in a merman. Seriously. Like a fish manatee fur mess with a mouth like a lamprey and a lot of soggy wet hair that clings to it. It flaps, then tries a mad scrabble to get back to the water on flipper-legs and claw-dragging hands.

"Ugh. Ugly sod, isn't it?" Nathaniel reaches his left hand to his nose, wiping the tiny blood-drop and glancing to both other men. "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not pyrokinetic."

Constantine has posed:
"Not you, Lucifer, Oh Prince of Light. Him," John says pointing at the very gifted Nathaniel. He is hypnotized by the show of pure innate power. "You can't find someone or something if you don't know their name. Don't you have the googletron on your mePhone?" A smile of 'I'm so clever' stretches John's face for a split second. And there it is, the runt of the oceans, the scum of the depth. "What a pitiful bugger."

John draws a circle of his own in the downpour and regrets it: the cigarette's ember gets drowned. "I'll humour you, this once, Luci. To contain it with its opposite element, so it can be destroyed when you need. You must be lovin' making me jump through hoops for you, it's basics. Santa's beard, YOU ARE fire." He throws away the uselless cigarette. Then the empty pack. A gust of wind pushes the crumbled thing next to the "NO LITTERING" sign. "Hrrm. Forswelgan."

From John's open hand, a tongue of fire braves the weather, slithering across the grounds until it swells to swallow the discarded trash. It's ashes now and the firesnake sizzles out of existence.

Lucifer has posed:
"A powerful ugly creature. I don't even recognize it, which is odd, as I think I would be able to recognize most anything." Most being the key word there. Lucifer knows there are creations upon this world that were not put by his dad, and were likely never even conceived to be possible. Yet here they are. None the less, he turns and stares Constantine down, even as the man is all, 'let me humor you and do it myself'... "I'm sorry, no one told me what the fire was needed for, and I don't just go around conjuring hellfire and brimstone for the fuck of it all..." The words are bitter-spoken, a little fiesty and then his attention turns back to the powerful ugly creature flopping about on the ground trying to get back to the ocean.

The name 'Luci' finds his ears and he growls just a little. A side glance to Nathaniel before he picks up the snake-fish-creature-thing with his mind and lets it fit about in mid-air. "We really should get this somewhere. With a tank preferably. Or I could just give it a few dips back in the water while we decide what you're going to do with it."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister hmmns, watching the thing for a moment, then Constantine in the wet. Cigarettes only work for circles when you have the shelter overhead, which is probably a bit cheaty, but then he did start this out under shelter, so there was probably a bit of planning involved there. "Googletron on your... Oh. Right," as Lucifer holds the thing up, Sin takes a smartphone from his pocket, one that's sleek and very not made by apple and takes a quick 'click' of the thing, hitting send and pocketting it again. "Let's see what that digs up. Now then," concenrating and side-eyeing the devil a moment, he claps hands together, fag-dangling and painting his hairline and hatbrim in silver-grey, pulling them apart slow.

A circle of lighting opens up above the thing, crackles of ozone tickling the nose thanks to the rain and two steely tentacles descend to scoop the thing and wind around it.... yoinking it up into the hole in the middle of the electricity. ZAP poof. GOne.

"There. I'll have minion number one get a tissue sample, that will be fun to watch on the video feed later. Hah!"

"I wonder what it eats. I shall have to get Minion one to get a stomach sample, too. Oh, so much the spectacle that will be. Anyway, now that that crisis is averted..." he looks back to both men, laying a hand gently on Lucifer's forearm in that black suit and looks beyond at COnstantine. "I do hope you find your red-eyed midget. I suspect I'll want to know what in the name of kittens that was all about later. If I meet again, which we may well do, as you seem to know Lucifer. I did not after all, introduce him." -- And with that, he looks to the Devil. "Shall we retire to someplace dry?"

Constantine has posed:
John conjures - from under his coat - a surprisingly clean handkerchief which he throws at Nathaniel. Probably never got used, ever, even though it's monogramed with a big U. "You got something under your nose, chum. Don't let it run too far away." The thing is caught by pure willpower, it seems. He nods with satisfaction and/or approval. "Yes, dry. Good luck with your fish, friends. The red guy must be getting closer... my spider sense's dingaling or whatevs. Drop the hanky at a local bar if you need me, you got me curious."

John pulls open a door out of nowhere. There's dry and estately things on the other side, very rich if only in a baroque library way. "Cheerio." The threshold is crossed and he's gone.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer takes a moment, firstly, to glance back at where Constantine is while he says his farewells. A raised brow, a bristle of feathers that aren't there but the action can be *felt*, the energy of that bristle even. He takes a breath, lets it out, and then looks back to Nathaniel. "Well, sounds like you'll be keeping at least one of your minions busy for a bit." He offers with a chuckle.

When the idea for somewhere dry comes around, he gives a nod of his head. "Yes. Dry will be good. Do you have any particular destination in mind?"

Sinister has posed:
"Hmm. Now that was an interesting trick. Materializing doors. Maybe I should work on something similar instead of the lightning circle. Ideas, I'm having ideas. Door transport. For the subtle." Sinister can /feel/ the bristle, looking slow from the empty space to the lord of hell. "I take it you have a bit of a history there," the hand where he touches arm traces down to skin and tickles fingertips there in a little drum, offering a white-toothed smile with a dimple to boot. "At least one. I'll share the video later and we can have a good laugh..."

The rain plays pretend ofr a bit then, seeming to lighten up, but that was a lie, A LIE! The subtle pull of atmospheric pressure heralds light going to absolutely sheeting and he squints up at the sky once again. "Someplace with a good view, or interesting decor?"

Lucifer has posed:
"I just wonder what he's actually up to. Who is he looking for and why. Never a dull moment with that man but he can be...an annoyance." Like a mosquito, or a fly, something you can never quite seem to get rid of. A detail in this moment. Lucifer's attention is drawn by the drumming of fingers against skin and he glances to Nathaniel, catching that white-tooth grin. "Mmn, a good laugh at the hands of minions can be a lovely thing I think." A nod given then before he takes another breath. Trying to forget he saw John Constantine, but that's likely going to be like finding a pea in a haystack.

Eyes move to the skies then as it threatens a heavier downpour now. A grunt is given and then he glances over to Nathaniel just after. "Nothing that has both? Hmmn. A good view would be lovely..." Especially since he has someone crawling in his head that would *love* the use of a good view right about now.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister simply proffers his hand, palm up. He's pocketted that handkerchief tossed to him by Constantine, but the hand is clean, the blood he shed reabsorbed with ease. "Or both. I can only travel to places I've been. I rely upon your talents, my dear."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer seems to think on it for a good long moment and then considers. "Where is a place you have longed to visit but never been to? I'm not trying to drag this out, just thinking of where we could actually go." He offers. Then considers the Other who wants some fun times, and thus makes the decision just a bit harder. "Overlooking the hills of Dover? Some river view in Venice? Mmn... a gothic tour of...somewhere...?"

Sinister has posed:
"At this point, I've been nearly everywhere that there is, barring extra dimensions or parallels," Sinister admits that, but then frowns just a little. "But never in company. Hmm. Venice is nice. Some of the substructure is quite astonishing, submerged as it is. Different kind of view, but height isn't everything."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer takes Sinister's proffered hand and gives a little nod. "Mmn, maybe everywhere in one sense...but I think I actually know a place. Lakefront property, surrounded by a small abundance of trees, and in a spot where no one would think a person would ever build a home." Hand taken, they are then surrounded by that shadow with which Lucifer uses when in need to teleport himself and company. As the smoke dissipates, they are within a mansion, grand of structure, and wholly empty save for decor and furniture, but not a single soul seems to be about.

"Welcome, my love, to Ausburg. This is Mandichosee, or Mandicho Lake. One of Ausburg's main sources of hydropower, and we are on a little stretch of island, the southern tip of..." A smirk. "Only accessible by one road, and boat, of course." So the scenery around the outside is lovely, but also, the inner halls of this manor are something to be spoken on.

Sinister has posed:
The more this kind of experience happens, the more comfortable it becomes; the shadows enfolding and suddenly the world is -else-. But it is still a wonder, when so much effort has to be taken to do it by other means. Sinister blinks at the complete change of scenery, the lack of rain for a start and the neauveau old world all about them. He looks a little stunned, looking up at the tiered facade and through those high windows to the furniture within, turns about to gaze at he lake with a glance to the infinity pool.

This here is luxury, which Lucifer seems to manage with a flair that is undeniable, mixing modern with a sense of pure antiquity and all qih such chique. "Wow," a slow circle is performed on the spot, looking up to the roof, five stories up. He levitates fleetingly to get a good look and lands once, again with an appreciative nod. "Solar powered, so it's almost off the grid. Is this... yours?"

Lucifer has posed:
"It belongs to...a friend of mine." Lucifer explains. "Or belonged, as it were, hence why there isn't anyone about. But I have use of it, whenever I want, and I want it now." He offers further. "Nothing evil or mysterious as it sounds. I knew its owner, once upon a time, and while it was never officially willed to anyone, it was never not willed...if that makes sense." In essence, the owner is dead, and Lucifer likely just assumes the man's persona while here most times. Not that anyone has ever asked, or hassled. It's all simple, and he likes it that way. "Probably could use with a bit of dusting in some places...I could bring in staff if I wished. Might do, if you think this a suitable place to hide from the world sometimes."

There's a moment taken as he watches Nathaniel get a good look at the place and then smiles. "Not that I ever forgot this place, I just never had reason to come here with anyone. Now I have a reason... a very good one at that." He slips over to Nathaniel, then, and gestures. "Solar powered, hydro powered, equipped with most amenities. A dock if I ever decided to venture the lake with a boat. What always drew me here was the mix of decor. It's grand, but simple in such grand nature. And not an eye sore." A pause as he laughs. "I feel like I'm selling the place to you. Suppose I sort of am. But I do hope you like it... She likes it too..." He taps a finger against his head then.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister listens, doing his little circuit and gazing at the decor as Lucifer speaks. It has a certain pop-art feel to some of the paintings, a definitive swedish minimalism to the furnishing, simplicity of shape and form but intimately modern. And therefore, when he finds his feet back at Lucifer's side, he nods lightly. "YOu actually could sell it to me, but that's neither here nor there. It isn't necessary," and then that ending has him blinking once, then a couple of times in short order. "Luci wants out, I trust?"

Stepping close, he reaches for Lucifer's chin, tipping it up just so at the raise of a hand, smiling that dimpled smile at him with winter sky blue eyes soft an illuminated with a circle of light in the pupil, thanks to the way the place is lit. Halo'd as it were. "You know you're welcome to be whichever you, that you choose to be. Your feminine side embodies very different aspects of you, but they are all you. And I do miss her company. Although, I will admit one thing..." he glances over his shoulder as if admitting some intimate secret, wrinkling his nose as he looks back.

"I always feel terribly gigantic around you like that."

Lucifer has posed:
"Mmn...I could. I could just will it to you as well. Like I said, I sometimes take on the name of Ludwig VanKempf when I am here." (don't ask, I just made it up) Lucifer offers, and then gives a small nod. "She does. Especially when around you. She likes you."

Then he finds his chin taken and head lifted up just so. That winter blue gaze of Nathaniel's own is something he could get so very lost in. And he does, for a moment, before hearing Nathaniel speak. He lets the man say everything, even that final confession, before his eyes slowly shut and a true smile turns his lips. "I know. Around you, I know that. And often I do find myself considering...then business pops up and I feel less like her..." He explains. "But here, in a moment like this, of us being alone and without distraction. The urge is great to let her out and have a little fun." Then he tilts his head a bit. "Though, what do you mean you feel...terribly gigantic? Should she be taller? Or is this more a mental thing because Luci is both very charismatic and flirty, but also tends to enjoy being nothing more than a play thing?" That smile turns smirkish and he gives another, albeit soft, chuckle.

Sinister has posed:
"She is perfect the size she is. She /is/ perfect, my love," the tilting hand shifts, glides along jaw and turns about to brush knuckles there and to the swan of throat. A caress usually given to a lady, not a gentleman, but this /is/ Lucifer. "But I'm six foot five. You come up to my mid chest -- I'm not altogether accustomed to feeling so very tall." The laugh is self-effacing and he gives a light shrug.

The knuckles sweep around making a cup of his very fingertips to hold Lucifer's chin up to look him in the eye. "And you are never. Ever. /EVER/ just a play thing. Even when you are sweet and bewondered of the world, flirty and girlish, charming... beguiling, a princess instead of a prince... there is /always/ a profound depth to you that I know I will spend a thousand years exploring and never find the end of. All that you are, is perfect to me."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer listens, because this is what Lucifer does in the moments that Nathaniel is so, so very honest. Not that he lies to Lucifer, but there is being honest and yet guarded, and being honest with your guard down. In this moment, the gurard is down, and perhaps even flung to the side for the time being. Lucifer lifts his opposite hand to cup Nathaniel's cheek, thumb brushing against lips that speak, pause, and speak again.

When it is all over, there is a flush to Lucifer's otherwise mostly pale visage, and his blue eyes are softer in colour than most times. "Well, you are my giant in a world of things that would try to crush me if given half the chance. And while I may not be crushable to an extent, there is something about having one who can protect me that is endearing." He offers. "And you are, my beloved Sinister, just as perfect. When you are bold and brash, guarded, open...everything that is you is perfect to me as well..." It's like exchanging vows, or promises, only they are exchanging truths. Which is just as if not more powerful. "Rare is there a power in this entire universe that can stop us apart, less so when together. I will explore a thousand years with you and more...for moments like this and everything else between." A pause, a breath. "I love you."

Sinister has posed:
It's subtle. But there are subtleties in everything, when truth is involved and a keen eye sees it, those subtleties are loud as a foghorn. The very slight softening of features, the lines around eyes, the demarkation of the lips, the pride of posture, that tell a very specific story of being. Truly, it isn't comparable, to have a mere couple of centuries of having to shield yourself from everyone and everything else and the breadth of the Devil's experience, but it did take him time to find it within himself to open entirely and -have- such moments with his guard utterly down. Love does funny things to a body.

Warm lips kiss the pad of a brushing thumb, linger there, as if as a punctuation mark.

"I know," he says with a sigh, a happy sigh that is. Not the most romantic of responses, but getting to a point where you actually believe it entirely? And don't second guess it or try to find the trick? Well. "Eternity. For me, there will never be another," he says quietly. "You know, it actually makes me a little angry to think that any would try. You are unique in existence and to try and do such a thing, it's anathema to my mind. I think why I reacted so strongly to that attack by your brother. It was criminal negligence, to my thoughts."

He stoops the short distance, rubs the tip of nose to nose, turns hand about to stroke the line of throat with fingertips down to clavicle, then around the back of Lucifer's neck to hold as he had when a serum changed him irrevocably. The kiss is therefore tender and the clutch is reminiscent. Soft. Not hard. For now. <<My love.>>

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer nods his head. "Eternity then. As it should be. As it shall be." This spoken in the way most promises are. "It is my uniqueness that they fear. It is the myths and the truths that surround me that they wish to crush. Even if I am, ever, made to 'die'...I will come back. As I spawn in hell and come to Earth again. It's never happened, but I hear that's how it should work." He considers it a moment and then nods.

The next moment comes. That touching of noses, the hand that strokes from throat to clavicle and then up and around to the back of his neck. A sound is produced from Lucifer, one certainly of pure pleasure, and when lips meet in that soft way he draws in all he can from his lover. Soft. Simple. Pure. A rare treat for him and so he keeps it until it changes. Delves where he can. Wrapping arms around to pull the form of Nathaniel ever closer until they just perhaps fall into a bed of silken covers and let the unguarded honesty between them both guide their path for the night.