13854/Let me tell you a story...

Let me tell you a story...
Date of Scene:	05 October 2021
Location:	Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis:	Sinister had an interesting day, and then comes home to have a better conversation with Lucifer.
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Sinister

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Lucifer has posed:
That storm which Sinister saw brewing over NYC is at it's height when the hour turns from afternoon to evening. As suspected, Lucifer is playing on the piano. Some gothic piece of peaceful despair if ever there was an oxymoron that could come to life on the piano keys. He plays loud, boisterous, and with an energy that fills the penthouse. No one is home, so he's sort of giving into it just a little bit because he can. Having fun with it, if one would, while sipping on whiskey and smoking on cigarettes. He's no idea how long until Sinister comes home, but he's apparently going to play until the crows come calling for sure.

Are you there, Lenore? It's me, Poe!

Sinister has posed:
The tempest outside is making flying interesting for sure. Does SInister think that it was in his best interests to desert the maiden fair upon her high and rocky bower? Well, occasionally discretion is the better part of valour and he could sense the prickliness of the southern belle with her iron fists. He really wasn't cruising for a fight and she was itching to get a rise out of him to a degree...

Not really her fault, even his vilesome self managed to find someone. The shame of it all. The shame. And the shade.

It actually therefore takes him several tries to land on the balcony. The silhouette of the dark angel that he currently is, flits past the window, banks, tries to fight against a serious gust of wind, spins away and kind of ends up landing in a swoop, skidding and hunkering down. He shape, shadowing his face from the wind and rain, can be seen attempting to get wings to cooperate as he unlatches the balcony doors...

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer obviously has no idea what has taken place. Perhaps, via the mind link, there's an inkling of knowing something might have happened. Otherwise, unless shared, he's absolutely clueless. Though the storm brewing outside does make him a little worried but he figures Nathaniel can handle himself and get things situated to make it home in one piece.

One piece, maybe, but apparently that nets a few other issues.

So when he hears the balcony doors being tried, there's a pause to his playing and the man stands and moves to those doors. Getting them opened for Nathaniel, he brings the man inside and makes a 'tsk' sound. "Even you should be careful flying in these types of storms, my heart. Come... lets get you dried off and warmed up.."

Sinister has posed:
"Hooooo," once the wind has been excluded and the driving rain hits only windowpanes, Sinister looks up at Lucifer, drown rat impression intact then bursts out laughing. "It's exhilerating though, no?" he looks toward the inclement blow happening outside as a bolt of lighting forks so very dramatically for their viewing pleasure.

From the mindlink, there'd been an abundance of caution and a bit of a mental mantra of 'water off a duck's back' said a few times. Overall, you don't dick around unless you know what you're doing, right? Right.

He doesn't complain about being lead though, the fire does seem oh-so-cheerful and he can't quite get the shit-eating grin off his features. "Did I interrupt gothic playing on the old ivories?" he asks, with a chuckle that's measured out with a warm mental 'knowing' -- almost half way there, he pauses to get the devil a bit damp for a sudden and vigorously vivacious smackeroo. MWAH! "Damn, that was bracing!"

Lucifer has posed:
"Well. Yes. But then you get struck by lightening..." Lucifer offers with a chuckle of his own, helping Sinister settle down in front of the fire. "Ah, perhaps you did. But I can always begin tickling them again if you so desire." This said as he takes in the smackeroo, MWAH!, and the sudden embrace that leaves him damp.

"From what I could tell you were being fairly cautious for a bit there, and like you were having to keep yourself from... perhaps saying something or doing something in a moment?" He asks this as he goes to fetch a couple of towels. Could Sinister dry himself off quickly? Perhaps. Something like this though, that sort of caring for one another, likely means a bit more in the long run. Soon a fluffy towel is draped over Sinister's shoulders.

Sinister has posed:
It most definitely does. The edges of the fluffy towel are gathered and the warm smile returned says volumes. With a visible flinch, he shrugs his shoulders and sucks the wings back to their housing, pulling the towel even tauter and looking at the hearth and Lucifer in invite, then to the nearby piano. "You have a talent that's undeniable, so I wouldn't argue listening to a little more extemporization on the keys. I've meant to ask this for a while; can you play all instruments or is it just a selective few? You hear the stories and all."

Settling cross-legged, he bunches the edge of the towel up to tousel his hair dry by the flames. "You wouldn't be wrong. There are times to talk and times to hold your tongue after all. I'm not quite finished with a young woman the world calls Rogue. She has a particularly interesting talent and I haven't gotten a sample out of her yet AND I'd much rather she volunteered for a little study."

But that's enough about that for the time being, he's still thinking about that. "How was your day? Anything interesting?"

Lucifer has posed:
"I have not tested all instruments. It is true I can play the fiddle, and most stringed instruments really. I haven't tried many woodwinds or percussions, but I bet if I did I could pick them up easily." Lucifer comments as he shifts to sit down next to Sinister on the couch. The fire is burning nicely, and perhaps a bit hotter than a normal fire because he does often cheat and uses hellfire to burn.

A secondary towel is produced, this one tucked up at Nathaniel's front just a bit. Even if there's a fire going, he wants his lover to be completely comnfortable. "Rogue? That is quite the interesting name." He offers this and then, "Do you think she'll volunteer for this study? Is this study being done on top of wanting a sample from her?" He asks, because he's curious.

"Slow. Mostly spent in here playing piano cause I knew it was going to storm and just didn't feel like doing much of anything."

Sinister has posed:
"Her gift is a phenomenal one and fairly unique in my studies. She is a life-force vampire; her biomagnetic field absorbs energy and begins to mimic the biofield of the person she touches skin to skin. The longer she touches them, the more permanent the alteration becomes -- but she absorbs their memories, their life, their mannerisms, quirks, behaviours if given long enough. And her DNA appears to be able to adapt to the signatures it picks up from biofield, mimicking and absorbing any gifts that they have. Dangerous to work with -- I don't know if she'll volunteer. I suspect it will depend on how depressed she ends up getting and how much of a potential solution can be promised from it. Honestly, she'd probably be able to touch people, if she absorbed a bio-magnetic power and gave herself a bio-magnetic shield about herself. I've seen inclings of her mind and the root of the will of her power shows no fault. I think she .... might be self-sabotaging. Not sure though. Thus wanting to test it." Sinister replies, taking the second towel to make a turban on his head for the time being, drying the visible skin with the other. He shrugs out of the coat though, laying it over the back of the couch. Pants are simply reabsorbed, in order to dry his legs off. Wet T-shirt and boxers. Well, now.

"You know, I once toyed with the violin, but I wasn't muchly good at it. And once, very briefly with bagpipes when at university. Don't ask."

Lucifer has posed:
"Oh now...that is interesting. Oh the things you could do with a sample such as hers..." Lucifer offers this much and then gives a bit of a smirk. Watching as Nathaniel takes the second towel to make a turban on his head and dry his hair as he absorbs clothing so his skin will dry more properly. He's not staring. Nope. Not at all.

"Oh well. See. Now I have to ask. Bagpipes?"

Sinister has posed:
"There was a battalion of the Deathwatch scottish guard near Oxford and they'd drill with military drum and bagpipes. I sort of wanted to learn as a dare, but also because the instrument made almost no sense to my brain. It turns out, I can get a tune out of it, but frankly, you might not want me to. When I was learning there was a lot of exceptionally -bad- noise," Sinister explains, peering up from his loins and catching the devil staring. He batts his eyelashes, 'mwahing' the air in a moue. "At least I never tried to learn a brass instrument; it's very hard to be all that sexy when you're essentially blowing rasberries into a mouthpiece and somehow making sound come out."

He seems to finish with his legs, reabsorbs the T-shirt and towels his chest off, draping the cloth over his groin as he takes his hands to hair and vigorously rubs like a man possessed. Hair. A bit vain about hair.

Lucifer has posed:
"Now that is something I would have loved to see. You attempting to learn the bagpipes. They really are a lovely instrument when played right." Lucifer offers with a smirk. "Though I do prefer stringed instruments myself, I think. Such wonderous things one can do when bending and plucking a string just so." This much more, and then he's caught staring. Do you blame him? A little smirk as that towel moves to cover the lap and then he looks up to see that vigorous scrubbing of hair.

"My vainity stricken lover... do you need a mirror? Some hair supplies?" Asking this even as he reaches to perhaps attempt to stop that harsh rubbing.

Sinister has posed:
The mad towelling stops, so a mock glare of one crimson eye, flashing to white and back can be seen. "You've never seen me on a bad hair day, you mark my words, it's like waking up next to medusa," Sinister mutters "...and there's a reason for that. I make sure it doesn't misbehave. But um..." from the bathroom, there's a clunk then a fwoosh as some of his 'wet hair' treatment oil comes flying out along with his comb, applying it and combing through dilligently.

He gives a half-smile though, shifting enough that the beauty regimen gives a better overall view. Then he glances to thin air and concentrates.

An image forms of oh my word, he was honestly that young once. He looks perhaps sixteen or seventeen and a little less confident than the twenty year old that was on the beach at the wittering sands of south england. His hair is shorter, barely touching the nape of his neck and is quite rebellious, in that it doesn't appear to want to behave. He hadn't mastered it then; lean of face and frankly all elbows and knees, as he was still growing into his six foot five frame at that time and growth spurts are a bitch... Blowing into the sack of a set of bagpipes, struggling to keep the sounding spokes over his shoulder and the bag under his arm. Lack of coordination makes it SQUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAk and whooooozzze, rumbling up like some crazy toot-beasty until he gets to the 'horn' sound. Praaaaaap pa-pa-rap-a-pap-a RAAAAAAAAAAAp-paaaaaaaaarp-a-perrrrrp-a-perp=ah... wheeze... deflate. Consternated face.

Lucifer has posed:
"You could never have a bad hair day. There may be days where you think your hair is bad, but it's fine. Always. I will make you believe that..." Lucifer offers with a frin and then shifts to settle next to the man again, especially after he summons hair products to get his hair to behave.

Men.

Then that image of a memory comes and he watches, whistling at the look of a younger not-quite-into-himself Nathaniel. "Oh, but I would have been a cradle robber..." He comments before watching the man get ready to play the pipes. A beautiful set of bagpipes too, surely nothing would go.. oh. Oh he winces at that first blaring sound. As they continue he actually begins to laugh and waves his hands. "Okay, okay! I give. I'm sorry! Please just make it stop..." A pause then.

Sinister has posed:
The scene freezes then fades from sight, with the young Nathaniel's eyes wide and cheeks pouched as he prepared to inflate the bag once again. A mercy, no less, no doubt, of course.

There is a chuckle "Some things are just chalked up to lesson learned. I might try and learn the irish bagpipes, they're more a warbling than a blaring. But if I do, it will be strictly to impress my musically gifted ...spouse, dontchaknow." Sin informs this with a pause in his ministrations, the comb pushing out the tar-black waterfall and allowing it to fall straight as a dye. "I was all elbows wasn't I? That was a hellish year when I dropped everything, tripped over my own feet and spent a good deal of it in pain. The year prior I had been a modest five foot nine. Growth spurt took me to towering and then several years of jogging and swimming took me to looking less like a beanpole." He inclines his head, passing the comb through a few more times until satisfied, tucking one curtain behind one ear.

"You will never see me with a broken set of eyes, will you? My doting dearheart."

Lucifer has posed:
"Well, if you decide to do this, promise me you'll do it away from my perfect ears?" Lucifer asks, chiding the man just a bit. Teasing if one will. Then he's leaning over and pressing a kiss to Nathaniel's cheek that's closest to him. "I can see how all of that helped you. Well..maybe not the growth spurt.. that is one thing I will never understand. Puberty. Going from babe to child to teen to adult..." He seems to go thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head some.

"There is nothing to be seen with broken eyes, my love. You are perfect in every way, no matter the moment I see you." He offers as a whisper into Nathaniel's ear and then shifts to lean back slowly.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's hairs raise at the back of his neck at the whisper and the kiss, his ear becoming juuuuuuuuust a little pointed, his cheekbones where kissed, pronounced and sharpened. Nostrils flaring, he turns his head ooooh-so-faintly to the auspice of the devil's regard, that temptation that forever waits and looks at the man slantwise across nose and profile, turning only so far, to three quarters with a fierce and focused gaze. The intensity is staggering, all consuming and levened with gravitas. He reaches across his own lap, a touch laid upon the back of Samael's hand and his gaze unflinching.

Then he moves like the serpent he sometimes seems to be, hand lifted to cheek and a kiss taken, held, drunk in, broken only when the fullness of a breath has spilled warmth across Lucifer's features. "Loving me for my flaws, as well as my merits. For my failures as well as my success. I wish rather profoundly, that I had known you before. It wasn't our time. That is now... but I truly hope you hold that in you, in the years to come. I -see- you, Lucifer Morningstar. I suppose I doubted a little in myself."

Lucifer has posed:
"Your flaws and you merits, failures and successes...they are all a part of you. It is you that I love. I will help you through the flaws and failures, and celebrate with you the merits and successes. This is my pro--my way of showing you how much everything of you means to me." Lucifer offers after that kiss, while still sort of pinned beneath the man who slithered over to claim him. "I trust that you see me. If you did not, then something from several nights ago might have been truly different. We both have highs and lows, and the fact that we are there for all sings symphonies of our wholeness."

Sinister has posed:
"I don't even want to think about that," Nathaniel lifts a finger, presses the warmth of pad to lips. "Ssssh. I found you. I did not let you go. I refuse to let you go." The finger is released, then he rises from the couch, smiles shy, but strangely sly and sashays away, bubblebutt revealed as the towel falls away, from living room past the piano, drawing the blinds and with a look over his shoulder, onto the dias where sits the California King. The sound of silks being swished aside is a sussuration beneath the crackle of the fire.

Lucifer has posed:
There is no question as to why there is suddenly a California King on the dias near the piano. Sometimes it's just like that. But here in the living space there's a crackling fire, the rain is still coming down as sheets and tinging against the window just right. Lucifer stands and follows his bubblebutt, shy but sly lover towards and into that bed. By the time he's within silken sheets and claiming Sinister's lips, tangling limbs with his own, he's naked as the day he was cast down. Sheets envelop the bodies that envelop each other as darkness fades into the room to enshroud our wayward lovers.