13703/Baby, You Can't Drive My Car

Baby, You Can't Drive My Car
Date of Scene:	05 August 2021
Location:	Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis:	Lucifer takes Miss Sinister out for a drive and conversation.
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Sinister

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Lucifer has posed:
Seems Lucifer is getting better at letting Lux stay in the hands of certain people. Trusted people. Who know what rules to bend, which to break, and which to keep. The sun begins to set on the city of New York and the Devil apparently has plans. Having been out most of the day. Business, he said. Which was a truth, because making sure a car looks and smells good is business when you're making plans in your head.

<<Wear something nice, whichever you you are, and meet me down in the parking lot in about ten minutes.>> Comes a mental note and possible text message once the Lord of Hell has returned. He doesn't come up to the Penthouse, it'd be a waste of time for himself, he feels. So whenever Sinister - in whatever form - makes it downstairs they'll find Lucifer standing next to his convertible wearing less than a three piece, but he's still doctored up a bit. Slacks and a tucked in button up - black and blue respectively.

Sinister has posed:
Sashaying out of the elevator into Lux parking lot, well...

Audrey Hepburn was a stick with a neck. Sinister is not and has a lot more curves, but she's still somehow rocking the a'line one-piece with a neck scarf and her hair done up in a high ponytail and bun affair. It has a gothic flavour to it, given that the scarf has little jack skellingtons on it, there's more buckles on the a-line than is usual and she's wearing Pretty Woman thigh highs, but. Peering over the top of her sunglasses, she holds the arm like a prop, eyes over the Devil and the Black Corvette. "Oooh, my, my, my, didn't I get done with having that much horsepower under me?" heels click as she sways on over, the smile wide and full of white. "Daaaaaahling, you look good enough to eat," MWAH-MWAH~

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer is found leaning against the car in that slick way one does, smoking on a cigarette, when the woman comes out to find him. A grin on his lips as he looks her over once, twice, and then gives a little nod. Yes. THIS is the eye candy he was hoping for in the shape of Miss Sinister all Hepburn-Goth flare. "Me? Baby you look like you could cut glass, sharp as you are." He says on an exhale of smoke, returns the kisses and then flicks ashes.

"Done? No. Not done. Probably never *done*, my dear heart, and there is more to come. In more ways than one. But... I figured you might appreciate a bit more than just me between your legs all the time." He whispers, takes another hit, and licks the edge of her ear. This and then he's opening the passenger door - which he was leaning against - so that she can slide herself in. "Destination tonight is nowhere...unless you want to go somewhere in particular."

Sinister has posed:
"Oh, you're so sweet, this old thing?" Old. Psssh. Victim of the shopping spree with vlad, denizen of the bottomless closet! She shivers a little at the lick, looks coy at the corner of her eye at him and slides a finger down his side as the door is opened gentlemanly. "Variety is the spice of life, but I do love it when you tell me how it's going to be, over and over." She chuckles, slides on in and arranges legs so that they're going to end up being a distraction. "High speeds, oceanside, where they serve freshly shucked oysters and serve only two kinds of wine and all the liquor you could ask for, I think."

Pausing, she strokes the stickshift in a very knowledgeable way, tickles fingers over the walnut finish and the leather like it's an old and familiar lover. "This is somehow better than my crotch-rocket." Yes, she has one.

Lucifer has posed:
Anything is better than a crotch-rocket. Lucifer thinks as silently as he can, having watched how she slid into the car, already arranging herself in such a way. Oh is he possibly in trouble now. None the less, when she speaks on high speeds, oceanside, and fresh oysters, he gives a nod of his head. He'd drive all night to find such a place, but since he's also not really one to ever be ticketed - well...it might not take all night to find such a place.

Closing her door gently but solidly, he then walks around the car so he can slide into the driver's seat. Key inserted in the ignition and twisted, the car roars to life. He pushes the gas to rev it a few times, letting her seat rumble hard beneath her in the process. "I do hope at some point you let your hair down...literally speaking." Then he shifts gears and makes to leave the parking lot.

Sinister has posed:
Miss Sinister looks down at her seat the revving, the vibration of a V8 engine through the frame of the car and does a little wriggle in her seat, somehow ending up even more distracting. The long legs are angled mermaid-like on the rocks in all the art. But the skirt of her dress wants to tell the world that you can imagine all you want, but I am SuPERGLUED in place. That place is not very far beneath all the things. "I figured I'd contain the monster, but you want medusa do you?" laughing soft as they pull out of the king spot. The valet puts great care into parking that car, but leaving the lot has its own impact and with a flourish, she unpins bun, does something complicated with the wrist and the top-knot base and unleashes in a kind of pirrhouette of thick, black and everywhere waterfall, all mad curls for the time being.

"Wind in the hair, my man at the wheel, this is going to be good. So, what brought this on?" She asks, peering over the top of the shades with the glimmer of red glow and the diamond on display. It's a little odd, in that she tends to keep a skintone, but doesn't care who sees that. Maybe because on a curvaceous lady, people can think it's some kind of pop-jewel. <<By the way. I heard that. Whispers don't work in the mind.>>

Lucifer has posed:
"Do I want medusa? Not quite if it means you're going to turn me into stone whilst I'm driving. Cause I'm sorry, baby, but you can't drive my car." Lucifer offers with a grin and a side eye as he pulls onto the road. Speed limits? What are these speed limits you talk about? He pushes the gas and off they go, though he does seem a bit more careful in the main city streets - only going about ten or fifteen over the limit.

"I don't know. We've done a little traveling, to other places, taken walks on the boardwalks by the ocean. And I haven't taken Sophie out for a little bit too be fair. Sometimes...I just love the way she feels whilst I'm driving her." He offers this much before giving a soft chuckle. At that last mindful comment, he smirks, and then he shrugs. "I just don't like crotch rockets...but to each their own of course." The closer they get to the outskirts of the city, the faster he pushes his car.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister stretches herself back into the seat, simply enjoying the sensation of speed in a machine handled expertly whilst breaking the rules. Her hair flies back behind her, but at least some is caught by the seat and headrest, so it's not a complete wild banshee in the night affair. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of driving your car, sugarpie, not when you can drive it for me and so very well... nothing quite like being chauffeured around like a starlet in a sex machine by a devilishly handsome fella. It makes me feel all naughty and like I want to mark my territory." She grins, curled just so enough to lace fingers over her middle and watch him in profile as he beats up the streets with style.

"Love? You can actually perform magic, too, can't you? If you put your mind to it? Not metaphorical sexy fun times magic, but actual magic, I mean."

Lucifer has posed:
"Yes. I can perform magic. Mostly just parlor tricks, but...I'm sure if I really put thought and effort into it, I could do most anything magic related." Lucifer answers that question first as he bends to the road that runs parallel to a seawall.

This is where the car is *really* opened up, full throttle like, reaching a good eighty on the nearly completely empty road. "Well...you are MY starlet, and this could be a sex machine if you want it to be. I can always pull over and we can give the backseat a whirl." This brings on a smirk. "But you want oysters, which are an aphrodisiac...and probably lobster. Hmm...where to take you...that's fancy enough for the both of us..."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister laughs brightly and it still sounds sinful. An air-kiss is blown. "Maybe later, sweetie..." which sounds like DEFINITELY later, sweetie. "I suspect anywhere along the harbour outside of new york itself, is fine. Even IN New york, but we wouldn't get much of a drive that way..." She looks along the oceanside and just basks in the wind and the motion for a couple of loooooooong moments.

"ALright then, I'm going to ask you something then. Do you -really- really want a child with me? And no this is not a peramble for doubts or anything, it's a segue into ... because if so, I think you can probably cast a fertility spell or the like, without too much trouble, which will probably improve the odds, too. I've also been doing double-barrelled egg bubbles in there, with some contraflow fallopian massages to get the swimmers up where the action is. I figure if I do it enough times, the odds are enormously stacked."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer tilts his head a bit and then grins. "I need to remember to go to the Magic Box and get those dragon teeth." He offers this idly and then nods. "I could likely perform a fertility spell. I think between that and all that you've been doing, you're right. We'll be pregnant in no time." He says all that and then turns his head to look at her directly - even while driving. "I really -really- want a child with you, Sinister."

They're likely driving out of New York at least. A little more northwards where the seafood has a bit more quality. At their speed it likely won't take too long to get anywhere, but he does smirk. "Dinner, dessert...and then *dessert*...sounds like a plan to me, my love."

Sinister has posed:
"Could be a plan, they've only been on special order for what... a couple of months now?" Miss Sinister chuckles softly at that, kissing her fingertip and leaning over the intervening space to tap his cheek with the digit, so it's right there when he turns to look at her face on and it curls, withdrawing a teensie bit as she blinks and actually blushes, with a coy little smile. So, his chin gets a caress before he turns away and she returns her hand to her middle, lacing fingers once again. Oh, but she feels special right now! Her head is filled with a sparkling pinkish red glow.

"It sounds like a capital idea. We can even stay there overnight, if we find a place that isn't completely shoddy... though a little bit of me thinks it'd be hilarious to get a room in a little mom and pop motel with a smiling lobster neon sign or something equally backwoods homesie."

Lucifer has posed:
Maybe that was the other part of this plan. He wanted to do something for her. Something completely different. Places like Ausburg and Paris have memories for them as individuals from times now past. This was about making memories together, for themselves, to enjoy as they spend the rest of their eternities together.

Bit cliche perhaps, but it works in his head.

"We could. Absolutely." He offers, on staying there over night. A little chuckle as she explains stopping at some mom and pop motel could be hilarious and yet equally homey. "We'll put that on the list of possible things to do. For now, I just want you to enjoy yourself, and I want to know when you spot a place that we should eat. I can slow down if you need me to.."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister holds up a hand, palm out and slowly curls all fingers but the pointer inward, letting her eyes close. Inhaling deeply, the intent is felt and she smiles, shifting her other hand to rest on his thigh, but in no other way than in contact. Travelling at speeds in a car, it wouldn't kill them if they crashed, but the car wouldn't be happy about it, so lets not!

She exhales through her lips, licking the bottom one as she concentrates. "Turn off at exit 59, head east, toward White Plains. There's a little township on the Long island sound that I can't.... see the name of, but it's not that far. We'll know it because it has a diner just off the coast road with a giant chair infront of it. Apparently about a mile further, on that turnoff, there's a crab shack that's not a franchise, where they cook from the Long Island sound itself. People remember the BC style oyster bakes they do, plus whatever's local."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer nods after she explains directions and gives her a grin. "Sounds like a great place to enjoy some delicious food." Lets face it. Most times, small and local is just better. Especially when it's places that are using mostly local fare. He's fine with giving back to the local communities - just sometimes he also feels like being posh.

Drop gear, a little slow down as he takes the exit and follows the rest of the directions she gave until pulling up to the local crab shack. Pulling into the lot, he parks the car but lets it idle for a moment before turning sideways to face her a bit better. "I will do any and every thing I can to help make our budding dream of having a family come true. So long as the family is with you. I love you." Then he leans over for a proper kiss which he holds a moment. "Mmn..so..shall we go dine?"

Sinister has posed:
OH, you think you can get away that easily, Lucifer Morningstar? Not so fast! Smiling softly at him, the kiss was returned, as it should be, as it must be, as it was inevitably going to be. But afterwards, after he's said that, she unclasps her seat belt so she can scrabble over just a bit more and proceeds to throw arms about his neck; it's an echo of the Strand outside of Melville, with lemon-lime and kiwi-strawberry slurpees, snowglobes and kettlecorn. It is a -warm- hug, given to someone special, as a person, not what they actually are. She rests her chin on his shoulder, taking a deep breath to give a contented sigh afterwards, with a squeeze, lightly given.

Then, the moment is over, though it lingers in the smell of Her Imperial Majesty perfume and L'oreal fructis shampoo, smelling deliciously of watermelon. "I love you too, Samael. May there never be a day when that isn't said just for the sake of hearing it. But may it always have meaning." That sounds a little like some kind of karmic sell in the voicing of it and she opens the car door, swinging legs out and making to meet him at the hood, arm extended and fingers all elegantly spread. "We shall dine and I'm going to say, I never expected you. I was astounded when I realized I couldn't stop thinking about you and conversations and I was even more astonished to realize I wasn't unrequited. Thank you, for coming out for that walk on the strand. It was the tipping point of all of this... I do not regret taking that leap."

Lucifer has posed:
Of course he didn't think he was getting away with it that easy, but Lucifer also did not quite know what to expect. He wraps arms around her as well, holding her gently but also firmly, and takes a breath himself. Squeezing her back then, he smiles as she speaks of love, and of saying it and always meaning it.

Then they're getting out of the car and he reaches to take her hand over the hood while shutting doors and setting the alarm. Coming around to close their distance, he nods. "I never expected you, either. I was surprised when you first admitted you couldn't quite quit me in your mind. Then you stepped back through my doors one night and I...I felt the leap was an important one to make. I am glad we made that leap. For all of this to come of it. I do not, and shall never, regret that leap myself." Then he leads her, as any gentleman would, to the door of the crab shack. Opening it for her, to let her in first, he takes a good look around and a good breath in too. "Ah. Fresh sea. That is a good sign."

Sinister has posed:
Miss Sinister smiles, looks at him sidelong for a moment, then down at herself. Nope, all is exactly as it should be, totally not what you would expect to be walking through the doors of a backwoods crabshack. "I never trust a seafood restaurant where you can't smell that. I had the misfortune once, of trying this ludicrously overpriced place in Berkshire, which is a county landlocked on all sides. It was not right. Not remotely. You want the good stuff, you go to Southend from London, or anywhere along the south coast, getting better the further west you go. Finest I had was a little pub in Dorset, when I was chasing... well, that's a different story." She does not release his hand as they step inside, doing a kind of walk back and turn, so that she leans him in and ends up on his right side, within the curl of an arm, where a lot of locals, look up for the sake of a new face and they're met by a middle-aged waitress who makes all of her tips, not from her figure, but from her smile and warmth.

"Welcome to SParky's! Table for two?" -- the place straddles NYC and conneticut border and the twang is just a slight mix of the two. Her name-badge says her name is Cheryl.

"That would be fine, with a good view and we'd be delighted to know what you have for the local catch. Word of mouth..." word of mind, more like "...brought us here, we're dying to try!" Miss Sinister giggles, all the sweet in the world as she flutters lashes a couple of times.

"Well, aren't you sweet," Cheryl smiles and yes, that's why she gets good tips. "I've got a spot for you on the deck, where you can hear the ocean. Let me get you some biscuits and a jug of water."

Strung up with little lanterns, with fairylights inside, it is not high society. But it has its own charms and it's possible to genuinely hear the ocean roll over the pebbles of the beach.

Lucifer has posed:
"Next time we're even near there, my love, we shall go. It sounds lovely." Lucifer offers. "Maybe find another little spot along the southern coast to call our spot in our not-home country." Cause, lets face it, Lucifer isn't British by any means, and he can't remember if Sinister was truly born there or elsewhere. So it's got a little truth to the statement.

As Cheryl greets them and Sinister takes care of getting the table and hearing about the local catch all sorted, he grins. "Thank you, ma'am. Might I say, you have quite the charming smile." He offers at least this to Cheryl, trying very hard to NOT bring her into his 'tell me everything' gaze so he looks to Sinister. Follows along to the deck.

The sound of the ocean is wonderful, and he takes another deep breath of air. "Ah... how I miss the seaside so..." He offers, then makes sure to pull out Miss Sinister's chair for her. "My lady." Before shifting to seat himslf. Cheryl is off for biscuits and water before he can inquire on alcohol. "Wine may not be a thing here, but I do hope they have whiskey."

Sinister has posed:
She is prompt, which is the thing of a small locally owned place. Locals only, outside of tourist events so, the service, if it's a genuinely well-loved place, tends to be quick. "Can I get ya started with a drink?" -- Sinister's eyes focus on her sharp for a moment, then -- "We'll have a bottle of italian white," apparently there's only one "...and two Appleton estates, on the rocks." -- "Sure thing, ma'am. Let me know when you're ready." A printed paper is set on the table, with the local catches that are on the menu tonight. Maritime/maine lobster is on the menu, as are oysters, some sole, bass, dungeness and mussels marinara.

"I was born just outside of Winchester, Hampshire and my parents moved to London for the work." Almost like she's reading the deep thought. "I distinctly remember a walk on Greenwich commons when I was knee-high to a grasshopper and wanted to be part of that world, the higher society, clean and decorus. I did learn my own country before I evacuated myself overseas, owing to narrow mindedness," she winks at him. "I'll take you there. There's a dozen and more little pubs and little known coves all along dorset, plus a lot of mystical places that ironically bear your title along there. Bad construction materials? The Devil's spire. Where poorly seasoned wood made the whole spire of a church twist like a goat horn... but there's a weird charm, when you mix that anglican christian with a shitload of pagan." She winks, reaches across the table to take his hands in her own.

"Yes. Your lady. Only yours. I love the sea. It's one of my secret weaknesses... which you might well have guessed by now."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer watches her, almost in that starry eyed kind of way while she orders wine and drinks for them both. Taking charge in her own sort of way that likely most men would find offensive but he finds enchanting. When the menu is set down, he takes a quick glance at it and then tilts his head only to lift his eyes as she talks again.

"I would like that. To see where you grew up, all the spots you might remember. Those trips into your memory are actually quite intriguing. Though I can't imagine what they might do to your psyche." He offers then before shifting to settle back in his seat some. "Perhaps that will be our next trip across the pond, hmm?" Then he points to the menu. "Oysters, definitely. I'm also thinking of having something crab-related. Though the lobster should be delicious as well. But I'm feeling crab for myself." He offers and then titls his head the other way. "Unless you want crab and then I can get lobster and we'll share or split both."

Hands were captured at some point, and then he listens to her words offered with such a thing. "I had a feeling. I can see you standing on some dover cliff, among the fog, just listening to it all. Perhaps we should get a house by the seaside somewhere." A pause. "Hell, I could buy an entire island...just for us."

Sinister has posed:
Miss Sinister leans across the table at that last, looks left and right conspiratorially. "I have an island in the south pacific. You would probably love it, but I tend to find it a bit jarring by turns. It's called Barre Sinister. Suffice it to say, it's one of those five o'clock in the morning experiments that went a bit weird. So, I would totally get behind something a bit less.. erm... egocentric?" She laughs at herself, shaking her head a bit at that. "No, now I have to take you there, just so you can laugh at me. It will be a thing. A thing we do once and then won't repeat unless necessary."

Fingers entwined, she nods though. "I'll get the lobster, you get the crab and we can share. Oysters obviously. But yes, I ..." Cheryl interrupts and she straightens, but doesn't let Lucifer's hands go, a thing that the waitress seems to find is a fondness by the crinkling of her eyes. SHe's probably a mother, maybe even a grandmother. "We'll have the oysters rockafellar, Maine lobster tail with seasonal vegetables for me and the Dungeness with garlic mashed potatos for my beau." "Sure thing, honey."

The wine is brought by a buss boy, along with the whiskey, which isn't single malt, but this place doesn't cater to the rich. It passes muster.

"I don't mind the trips into my psyche. Actually, it lets me look at them in a new perspective. I haven't ever shared them with others so it's... enlightening. I never realized for instance, how much the culture of Paris mattered to me, until you tripped into my memory with me and I realized I'd sentenced a few people to death, to protect art from hoodlums."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer chuckles. "I would joke about calling any island I bought something like the Devil's Harbor or Satan's Refuge...but then I'll find out those names are already in use for something." He offers and then nods. "You know, we could change the idea of your island, no matter how it started. Make it our own, if we wanted." A pause. "If you were up for that."

Then they're slightly interrupted by Cheryl and Miss Sinister takes the lead again. He watches the waitress this time, eyes the laugh and smile lines, hair and eye color, the uniform (if she has one) or whatever attire she has on. He tilts his head as he studies here. Wanting...oh how he wants to...but he refrains. This is not the night for it. Perhaps he'll visit Cheryl again. "Thank you kindly, Cheryl." He offers.

Wine. Whiskey. Passable, yes. He doesn't mind it's not posh...as the flavor is decent enough.

"Well. I like that you're willing to share them with me. Brings a perspective to my mind that I never saw before." He offers, waiting for Cheryl and bus boy to leave. "Does it bother you? Knowing now that you doomed some to save material possessions? And yet if you didn't save them..." He lets that trail, perhaps for her to fill in if she so desires.

Sinister has posed:
"They did not fall into the hands of the Nazis. I know where they were, not where they are now. I could find out, but I find, so long after the fact, that I don't care. That they were not... looted, censored and otherwise, is enough." It sounds genuine, and Sinister is not lying in the least when she says it. She reaches over, caresses his cheek, then helps herself to a slice of bread, breaking it and taking half herself, whilst offering half to him, t'wixt long nails and delicate digits. "But to answer the whole of that? No, I do not find it bothers me. Those that chose to protect those pieces, they did so willingly. I am painted a monster to many, but not everyone thought of me like that. Some worked with me of their own free will. Mary was one. THe marauders, I ressurected, later. I did not have that chance, with her. They burned her remains. It's an odd form of regret, in that I do not truly feel that emotion, but that I do wonder if I could've made a greater difference. Like in Auschewitz-Burkenau and Dachau. I could have, but it would've upset the balance of doing what I did." She shrugs, eating her own slice.

A coy smile, but one kind of embarassed at the same time "Trust me sweetie. We'll go visit barre Sinister and then if you still feel like renaming it and building a little beach house, we'll do that, but reserve judgement until then, okay? I do have some experiments that I want to facepalm at."

"You should you know. She deserves a little of the heart's desire," she flicks eyes toward where Cheryl went. "And truth is, I'd love to see you in action some time," wagglebrow.

But then at least the oysters are delivered and that in itself is a pleasure. What follows is a tit-for-tat bite fest, of both crustacean delights and then? There ain't nothing wrong with a motel, if what you care for, is five star. What really matters is the company, not the location.