14074/Battle of the British

Battle of the British
Date of Scene:	12 January 2022
Location:	Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis:	They've got the Orient on the brain. But a few more plans were made.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Lucifer

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Sinister has posed:
So yesterday was at least productive - consultations with the Laughing Wizard where he did not want to destroy everything and anything, but did have one or two overly BOOM-like ideas. They can pare that down later, when he's come up with a thought or a notion or even a lightbulb.

Yesterday, the rest of it was normal. That wasn't going to last, was it? It's the late evening, it's so cold outside that the glass is frosted in places, making everything obscured outside of the penthouse and the fire is keeping that all at bay. The penthouse is extremely quiet though. Unbelievably quiet, other than the occasional pop of the flames.

It isn't unoccupied though, on either end of the couch, sits a Sinister. The standard model, complete with moustache at the left end, the non-standard potentially upgraded version without the moustache and with the far more curvaceous figure at the other and all that they're doing is staring at one another. She has her legs crossed, he has his ankle up on his knee and there's a smoking ashtray between them both, with two nubs and a whole grey cylinder where they burned out during whatever... this is. THey're staring at one another.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer hasn't actually been in the penthouse to notice the tension, or the dual Sinisters. He's been down at Lux doing his thing because sometimes that's just what the Devil has to do. So when he's coming back up, and the elevator dings his arrival, he walks in carrying a couple of bags from some takeout that he ordered. "Hey Nathaniel, love, do you want to split sushi rolls tonight or are you feeling like only cooked food?" Of which he - of course - has both.

It's not until he's set the food down and come into the living area that he feels the tension, notices the two and sort of pauses in his steps. "Ah... am I... interrupting something? A bit of self-realization or...something?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's eyes, both sets, turn to look toward the elevator fleetingly when it dings. The one gives his sly smile, the other a wry twist of painted lips, then they return to gazing into each other's eyes. That is until Lucifer's oriented himself.

<<I'm not sure if self-realization is quite the right turn of phrase. We're attemping mental chicken. So far, I think it's a stalemate.>> THe voice could be from either of them, as the man offers a straightening of his posture and a prop of chin to the backs of knuckles whilst she offers her hand, palm down toward the devil. Both are dressed rather nicely, in a black armani and a sequinned strappy cocktail dress.

Lucifer has posed:
"Attempting mental chicken? So like, trying to get into the other's mind without uhm...compromising your own?" Lucifer questions and then glances between the two again. When she offers her hand, palm down, he takes it and lifts it to press a kiss upon the knuckles. "Well, I suppose I should leave you two to it? Unless you're almost done and I'm also sort of wondering which of you is... I mean... that is to say..." Oh the Devil is flustered because he's always worried about THIS being a question he'd have to ask, and was always glad to never have to ask it. But which is HIS Sinister...

Sinister has posed:
She smiles a more genuinely pleased smile at the kiss, batting long and mascara'd eyelashes at the kiss, arching an eyebrow up at the flustered chatter. Dangit, they both do that so well, like it was made for spocking. She giggles softly, glances over at the other Sin and back to Lucifer. "You don't have to run off, but yes..." she murmurs. "...Attempting to breach mental defenses, it's like a mental game of chess and... oh, I suppose soccer all at the same time..." finishes he.

Now Lucifer's got both of them gazing at him. "Which would," she asks "you like it to be." he finishes.

Lucifer has posed:
"Oh see. Now you're both playing me dirty..." Lucifer says and then folds his arms across his chest since he's relinquished her hand. "Is this a test? This has to be a test. To see if I can tell the real you from the clone you..." He then shifts his gaze, in just a good enough position to see if she's got enough of her back showing to tell where wing spots may be. Trying to be subtle about it as well while he takes a breath through his nose even though it's not needed. "I'm not choosing. I would never. Firstly, this makes me feel like I'm choosing between her and him, and there's no need to do that since they're both them. Secondly... I'm beginning to think he's elsewhere watching this on some sort of computer and processing all sorts of data. So... I'll just go divy up dinner."

Sinister has posed:
"Oh, now look what you made me do," she pouts at the other end of the couch.
"I made you do? I'm not the boss of you," he replies.
"Well, technically that's not correct, is it? Sushi for me, darling." She calls.
"I think I'm in the mood for a bit of both, if you don't mind, beloved." He offers.
"I suppose I should mutter about my figure now," she grouses.
"Technically, but then I'd have to roll my eyes at us." He chuckles.
And with that, both rise and move toward one another, colliding and morphing seamlessly into the one individual. "I'm sorry about that," Sinister offers, going to assist with the food. "The correct answer was technically both. Not a clone, merely an aportioned self. It's a challenge, but I wouldn't be bringing clones of me willy nilly in here, for no good reason. It would seem somewhat gauche." In behind and dipping to kiss the shoulder, he slides arms around.

Lucifer has posed:
"So not a test, but also kinda a test, but not for me, and yet also...for me. You, my love, can be a bit confusing at times." Lucifer says this, teasingly, and with a grin. There's sushi, orange chicken, kung pao beef, and both white and fried rice. Lucifer makes a plate for himself with a little bit of everything. "So why the sudden attempt at breaking...what was essentially your own mind split in half?"

Sinister has posed:
"Mostly, it was a test for myself. You're mine, Lucifer. Nobody else's, not even the rest of me. And I'm yours. You could have all of us, but I'm happy you just want the one." Sinister gives a squeeze, then a snort of amusement. "Confusing? Moi?" oh, so innocent that tone. And then with a stolen kiss, he examines what's on offer and much in the same way, takes a little of everything and a set of fine japanese chopsticks. "Asia is on your mind too," he gestures at the spread of oriental fare "...so the answer is essentially the same. If there's a chance I may have to fight myself, I need to practice."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer blinks once and then again. "Huh. I suppose it is. I just thought sushi sounded good but... yeah... probably inspired by Asia on the brain." He says this and takes up his own chopsticks, letting a kiss be stolen and then walks to the table. "Also, I am yours. Only yours. No one else compares, not even your clones. So. Take that." He grins. "And as a side...well...would you mind terribly if I poked your brain about something?"

Sinister has posed:
"It does seem counter-intuitive to say that there's nobody else like me in all of creation, doesn't it? I've always prided myself on being fiercely myself and owning that, but how can a man that has an army of clones of himself, really say that he's incomparable?" Sinister pops a piece of sushi in, with a dip of wasabe soy and pickled ginger, and chews whilst his eyes shine warmth. The chopsticks are used to gesture with though, a kind of rolling forethought as he moves to take a seat, perching. A gaze is cast over the food items, then up. "I'll let you in on a secret, it's why I wear my own face as often as I do. It's a reminder. Practice... and, well..." there's a shrug, a tilt of the head and kung pao beef gets selected with some bamboo shoots "...Go for it. My mind is your olive to pluck."

Lucifer has posed:
"Well you said it yourself the other day. You have, whether purposefully or not, and yet I think at this point it was with purpose...but you are you and you alone because you have a set of DNA in you that none of your others have. Which makes you, ultimately, unique and comparable to the others. Unless I am wrong. Or misunderstoood." He finishes off and then tilts his head one way before the other, taking up a piece of sushi to pop into his mouth without anything extra added to it. "I want to start off by saying I wasn't trying to make fun of your idea yesterday. The one about giving all the clones a virus and comparing it to a movie plot. I liked the idea... so I was hoping to perhaps expand on that a bit. Maybe actually see if it's doable?"

Sinister has posed:
"You aren't wrong," Sinister says that softly. "A tiny amount of DNA none of the others have, but it has had an enormous impact on me and my physiology. Probably at least in part, nigglings of my psyche, also." There's an art to eating rice, particularly the non-sticky kind, with a set of chopsticks. Very careful balance and tiny morcels, or whisking it all up from a bowl like you're shovelling. It is the former motion that Sin employs, glancing at the back of his own hand a moment, at the deep, nearly missable pearlescence. "Oh? Ahh. Yes, well, I wasn't entirely sure at the time..." he admits, chuckles and sobers. "The trick would be delivering it in a vector that they wouldn't expect, or see coming, that would be guaranteed almost, to smack them all. That's why I thought to propose delivering it by technomancy."

Lucifer has posed:
"Employ tiny drones with needles all over, and at the end of a count down they all stick a Sinister." Lucifer offers and then smirks. "I would say you could put something in the air, but that requires them to breathe and I don't know if your clones do that." He watches the way Nathaniel eats rice and gives a grin, actually opting for the other method and shovels a bit into his mouth with some chicken to chew, swallow, and then shovel again. "And you're confident in trusting Constantine to figure out something in that regard?"

Sinister has posed:
"I'm confident that Constantine will come up with -something-. Whether it's workable is the proof of the pudding, no? And that's why it's a proposition. I am not a man prone to being reckless, or flying ultimately by the seat of my pants, but he is. Therefore, he'll likely cobble something that is liable to work to accomplish something-- and then those of us that think on a larger scale and a longer term, a more subtle approach et al, can refine the bomb he made." Sinister replies, musing a moment. "They breathe to talk, same as I do. Or when we want to actually smell something. Overall, I suspect I was rather too good at improving myself... it is vexxing me to admit that."

Lucifer has posed:
"I think that ultimately shows your level of pride. You didn't think to build in a fail safe, or whatever, because you were building off yourself. And you were the perfect specimen. Figuring the only ones who would go rogue were the ones you intended to do so and none others." Lucifer offers, going back to being dainty with the sushi. "He just rubs me the wrong way sometimes. Like the arrogance of him to stand in the same room as me and be all.. Oh Hellfire isn't going to work then is it... uhm... excuse me. It's not JUST hotter fire...there's a bit more to it. Well. At least for MY hellfire. I don't know about his I suppose."

Sinister has posed:
"Much as I am loathe to admit it, I think you're right. Hell, I know you are. You are the lord of Sins, after all, you'd be able to tell Pride radiating off me, if you were blindfolded." Nathaniel shakes his head a couple of times, then takes a bok choi and folds it carefully with the chopsticks, an action that looks as if he learned it with care sometime in the past. It makes the whole thing a kind of mini cabbage parcel and not all floppy, so he might eat it in one morcel. After consuming, he nods. "I also think you're right there. His is likely not the same as yours. His is a spell to summon the equivalent. Yours is the real and true thing. Hellfire conjoured by a magician as opposed to the lord of hell? It's Jack Daniels to one hundred year old Glenfiddig, isn't it?" There's a pause, a wry turn of the lips once again. "I need you to be on top of your game, when and if he comes up with something. Because it would be down to you to refine the hellblazer's work. I could stare at a magical trinket until I'm blue in the face, I still won't understand the nuances of it. Give me a tesseract generator that can provide enough energy as a full day of coronal ejection and I can tell you exactly how it works. But a blue bow-tied magic wand equivalent and I'm a dunce."

Lucifer has posed:
The first few topics are laid to rest once commented on, as Lucifer has nothing more to say towards them. He eats a bit more before pushing his plate away and washes everything down with a little whiskey. "And yes. I will be diligent and make sure that whatever the hellblazer comes up with is actually something that will be useful and get the job done for us." He then works on putting up the left overs. "Still, something to be mindful on when he returns and not before then. Now... how shall we finish out our evening? I take it your mind chicken is done?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's right hand lifts. All the lids, float over quickly, click onto the take-out packages. Those that are just cardboard as is common in NYC fold themselves in their origami box folds. The fridge door opens, the dishwasher does also, all whilst Sinister is gazing directly at Lucifer. Like a ballet of take-out, dishes and cutlery, it all floats to where it belongs as he rises off of his seat. "How about you inflate my pride a little?" he replies, with a smile, wickedly bent. Oddly he leaves the wasabe and ginger exactly where it is. "I fancy a little Nyotaimori. And with you, it has to be hot." He flutters lashes, just as she had done. And then, he simply backhands, advancing on the Devil to push him by presence alone, to where such spicy things can be enjoyed off of a living smorgasboard... to their heart's content.