14869/A Meeting of the Mystics

A Meeting of the Mystics
Date of Scene:	30 March 2023
Location:	Club Lux, Melville
Synopsis:	A few mystics congregate to one place and a little chaos ensues!
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Loki, Doctor Strange, Sinister

---

Lucifer has posed:
Midweek at Lux is always hit or miss. Tonight, it seems to be somewhere in between. The usual crowd of business folks stopping in for a nightcap and to watch the caged dancers. Scantily clad men and women walk around taking orders, or just with trays of various alcohols to offer. The dance floor sports a few groups who are easily getting sweaty to whatever tunes the DJ is playing. Overall, it's not a noisy night, but it's not a quiet one either.

And the ever present owner and proprieter is where he always is at the beginning of the night. A little crook that is just aside the top of a spiral staircase. Tonight, it seems the Devil wears Java...a creamy brown suit reminisence of a mocha latte, lighter peach cream shirt beneath and a peach cream handkerchief tucked in his left breast pocket. Always a three piece suit. Always immaculately worn. Hair slicked back just so and a gaze that's as deep and blue as the mariana trench. He holds a whiskey in hand, taking a slow sip of it as - from this vantage point - he lets his gaze take in the entirety of the club. Such a lucrative business to have gotten into.

Both for the money and the sins he can drink in.

Loki has posed:
Sin, you say?

What is sin? Some say Loki invented it. He wouldn't argue the point. He's always been around, dipping into Midgard now and then to undermine and terrorize the foolish and the proud. Denying them the ludicrous delusion of their species that they're important. that they're the top of the food chain. When they're nothing more than pawns to the play of the Gods. They are the wretched and degraded peasants who serve at pleasure or else are denied the blessings of our favor.

I cannot sin, for I am a God. I decide what is right and wrong.

Loki has taken a youthful appearance, with a tight ponhytail on the ack of his head, a bit of a bishounen influence to his presentation, with an exatggerated parody of a tailored men's suit, with extraordinary flare at the cuffs and the throat. His emerald eyes sharp and acquisitive as he slithers his way through the door and into the general public. He knows well the proprietor, from encounters in the past, and finds this particular manifestation...intriguing. And a little confusing. And who is this paramour of which rumor speaks? Curioiser and curioser.

Loki selects a stool and rests his elbow, summoning a bartender with a simple flex of irresistable will, entrancing him utterly with but a thought.

"Tell your Master I'd adore having a chat with him, will you? Nothing oppositional, nothing dramatic, just old acquaintances having a chit-chat. I'm in the area for a while and figured I should pay my respects."

And when the bartender goes to convey the message, he does it precisely, a perfect mimicry of Loki's voice so that the Prince of Lies echoed through the room as if he were there himself. Once delivered, the bartender will collapse in a heap, sweaty but otherwise uhharmed.

Doctor Strange has posed:
Club Lux is for the rich, the elite, the powerful, or those pretending to be something of the three.

Stephen Strange may be all three to some degree, yet he still doesn't fit into the people here. Even so, he's approaching the bar. Tonight's outfit is a navy jacket with a white undershirt, a Casio watch (yes, really), and a pair of dark gloves covering his entire hands up to his sleeves (odd in the Spring), with blue jeans fitting the look. Not something someone would normally wear here...

But Strange isn't normal. It's in his name. As he moves towards the bar and reaches it, he keeps his hands folded together...and his eyes instinctually move towards the host on the staircase. Their eyes may even meet.

And then he glances at the bartender. "Margarita. Salt rim. Lime." As if the bartender doesn't know how to make a margarita, he's starting relatively light. He's wondering how a club ran by such an... infamous man handles is work.

Once he gets his margarita, though, he's glancing to the side at another patron and a bartender walking up to the stairs. Once that happens, he pays and moves to take his margarita to go. If Lucifer comes to Loki, Strange will move closer. If Loki goes to Lucifer, Strange will follow.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister is often a fixture in this establishment, for different reasosn. Here, he can almost be himself -- but also he can review and observe the powerful and the wanna-be powerful of New York and its surroundings. As well as those kinds of visitors that fit in boxes aaaaaaall their own. But perhaps tonight he is distracted. He has a booth he tends to favour, at the base of the spiral stairs, it tends to offer almost as good of a view of the place and covers entrance and exit and to the washrooms and back of house.

He is not however, watching anyone tonight, rather than things. A few small gadgets that doctor who would be proud of are laid upon the table or on the seat beside him and he appears to be calibrating them; mostly because periodically they go absolutely insane. Like just now. "Gods bedamned..." he mutters picking up a thing that looks like a very small geiger counter and laying it next to his cellphone. Data speeds over that like a thing possessed and several people nearby find that their own batteries are bleeping alarmingly.

"This can't be right..." muttermutter. Except it's probably going to go all kinds of insane in no short order, in rapid fire timing. He glances up at the spiral, frowning at the Host there and waggles the device in hand like it's an explanation. He has... just no idea at this point.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer's ears prick faster than word of mouth can reach him and his gaze shifts to the bar where he spies his first target. A little smirk touching the corners of his lips but just before he can move to walk he catches the movement down below and his gaze shifts there a moment. A brow raises and then he does this whole shifty eye movement from Sinister, to the bar, and back again. A few times. Then something else happens however none but Sin will know of it.

Finally, he shifts, and there's one step. Two. Before he is simply gone from where he was and behind the bar. In front of Loki. Depending on where precisely Strange is at from the point of this at the bar will likely determine how much the Doctor is able to hear.

Though he can likely hear them no matter what.

"Ah. My dear friend, Loki. To what do I owe the honor of this visit hmm? Did Asgard get boring again? Your brother not giving you the proper amount of attention?" Of course he has to take a jab at the man - it's likely been some time since he's seen the God of Mischief.

One thing to note, is that Strange won't be charged for this drink. And the bartender will give a small speech on their policy. 'First drink is free, after that you can pay per drink or open a tab. Tabs are due before leaving unless otherwise agreed upon by the owner.' and then proceeds to see if Strange would like food, a tab, or to wait.

Loki has posed:
Lokii is quite surprised by Lucifer's sudden appearance, darting backwards for a second and holding up a finger as if in defense of himself. "I need nothing from Thor and I need nothing from you. I was merely being sociable. You are a power to be reckoned with. So. Here I am. Reckoning."

"Also, please, for the love of...no one, I suppose, Can you even love, wicked thing? I've heard rumors and they sounded provocative. Provocative is what I do. I like to play int he ball pit sometimes, too."

Doctor Strange has posed:
Strange pivots as soon as Lucifer disappears. He moves to take a seat at the bar. "Tab." He might be here for a bit, and he's good on the cash.

While the movement spell doesn't exactly prove the owner of CLub Lux is whoo he says he is...itt's enough for Strange to at least give credence. You don't call yourself that, have magic, and not get smited by the actual being.

Unless you're damn lucky, which is yet to be seen.

He's listtening to the conversation. It's obvious he's listening - he's not being subtle about watching them. An Asgardian god and the greatest fallen angel? Something to monitor. He IS here to see if the rumors are true, after all, and if Loki's here...

They probably are.

He'll wait a moment before interceding, unless invited in with his clear active presence. He needs the right approach...

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's attention is oh-so-briefly again upon his gadgets. Until one that was on the seat beside him cheerfully explodes and entirely vaporizes, leaving a small crater in the apolstery and a scorchmark on the man's jeans. He looks down at it with a surprised look and then up at an angle, as if listening to the very air itself.

And that's when his gaze shifts unerringly to precisely where the guests of the night are. He doesn't pale. He can't. But he does stare transfixed for several silent moments, before with a click of fingers and an open palmed gesture to the air beside him, a small ring of ozone and lightning materializes and a rather small metal tentacle dips down out of it, to clean up the hole and apparently magnetically hoik MOST of the gadgets up into thin air. It vanishes thereafter, although everyone's batteries that went into alarm mode are now full again. That is going to cause a bit of confused social media chatter later.

Left with but a PDA looking item and his cellphone, Sinister stands, checks himself over and begins to approach the bar.

From the step behind a person to the shadow of negative space in the wake of a disco light, his eyes go from red to grey, his skin takes on a patina of colour so that he is another youngish face in the night at Lux by the time he silently draws near. He made no step upon the floor and made no sound. It's as if he walked on air to get there and he leans. /Leans/. Upon elbows and with a forward cant of his body, to look past Loki at first to the figure futher down. Oh, I know you. I've seen you before.

That would explain some of this. And back to the Jotnar god of mischief who indupitably explains the rest. "They don't have micro-processors potent enough to handle tonight, I fear. I'm afraid the seat needs repair, Lucifer. I will handle that at closing time. My pocket mass-spec vaporized and left a crater." -- He inclines his head to both the auspicious faces gracing the night, though perhaps cheekily, it's to Strange that he attends first -- "I would know -both- your faces anyway. Strange. Loki."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer narrows his eyes a bit at Loki before lifting his head up in a bit of a prideful moment. "Of course I can love. Are you really going to believe the pitiful renditions of me from those on Earth? Or anywhere else for that matter. I've loved many in my time here, but if your stirring a rumor mill of me being IN love...then yes...that is true too." He gives a little scoff and then grins. "What are you drinking tonight, Loki? If this is social then you should drink and be merry should you not? I did recently get a shipment of Asgardian Ale if you're interested." Though, he's sure THAT might get a rise out of the God of Mischief as well. Offering him Thor's favored drink.

Doctor Strange, who isn't making any attempt to hide his eavesdropping, is given a side glance and a smirk. "Margharita's a bit different for you, Stephen. Here I thought you prefered dry martinis..." Saying this much and then gives a smirk and holds up a finger. "You know it's not nice to eavesdrop. If you want to join the conversation then come. No harm can come to you here." His gaze immediately goes back to Loki. "It's not allowed in my club."

A glass floats, then a bottle, the bottle pouring into the glass which is then floated over to Sinister. Cognac. As that Doctor prefers. "Well since it seems we all know one anothr somehow anyway, I suppose we can dorp...most...formalities..."

Loki has posed:
"Let me see the bottles," he'll say. When the cognac is fetched, he'll inspect carefully - he knew all of the good breweries in Asgard, most gave him at least a nominal sacrifice just to avoid bad luck. Loki himself often being bad luck in his own way, only because mayhem followed behind him sure as a shasdow. His eyes flicker over towards Strange, "You seem to have your menu full tonight. I didn't mean to intrude if you're having a tete a tete with the sorceror supreme."

He watched Lucifer pour the drink and tilts his head back to regard Sinister directly, "The mutants are terrible gossips, I'm afraid. I've heard of you. Mostly as a scientist. I expected someone less...well, have you ever seen Otto Octavious? That's what I expected Mister Sinister to look like, I'll be quite honest. Sans I mean, you even have tentacles. Come on."

Doctor Strange has posed:
"Had to see if the Light-Bringer's bartenders were up to snuff." Strange says casually to Lucifer, as he eyes the other two. Loki...and Mister Sinister, a man he knows vaguely of. His name is easily familiar if you've heard it, at least.

"Tete a tete? No, I'm more interested in the punchline to this joke. A god, a sorcerer, and a mad scientist walk into the devil's bar. It's an odd mixup."

Strange takes a sip from the salt rim, before nodding. "First do no harm's my specialty. Simply trying to see the buzz - both mundane, mystical, and alcoholic. Can't learn *everything* from eons-old tomes."

Sinister has posed:
Arching an eyebrow at Loki, Sinister gracefully plucks the cognac glass from the air, raising it in toast to the Host. "Thank you, my dear," and a sip is taken. "Stereotypes exist for a reason I suppose, but ... coke bottle glasses? Middle-aged spread? Even when you've managed to wrangle the concept of cold fusion, that is quite a look. Add his atrocious sartorial habits and questionable taste in haircuts..." sinister sighs. "But I am much like you, Loki. I can look exactly as I please to look, whenever, however I choose. I favour this. It's a reminder." He gestures to himself in a quick once over, smiles widely but close mouthed and finishes the cognac, setting it for a refill as he sets a silver cigarette case upon the bartop with a gesture to the others if they wish. It's flipped open, two are taken out, held just so in Lucifer's field of vision.

"Strange, the joke is that this is not the first time, nor shall it be the last. But I suppose the old ones are the good ones, right?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer raises a brow and then shifts to lean down, grabbing one of the few casks of the ale he has and places it on the bar. "I carry mostly top shelf and mid-well. Nothing cheap here. And a lot of stuff I get...from favors." He chuckles and then shakes his head. "For one, my menu is always full, but I like it that way. For two, I didn't expect either of you to be here tonight, and for three that man there... the your wanna be Doctor Octavious? That is the man I love and who loves me. So I suggest you tred just a bit more carefully or we'll really see how a God and a Fallen Angel match up." The Devil going all protective because he can.

There's a smirk passed Strange's way. "Well then, I shall allow you the pleasure. I am Lucifer Morningstar. Yes, -that- Lucifer. You know this whole speech gets old after saying it over and over again. I would suspect a man of your...caliber...would believe in such a thing because you have seen many things. So I'll spare you the entire dribble." He pauses, then shrugs.

A glance is given towards Sinister and Lucifer grins. Oh there may be a punchline. It just might be more physical than the butt of a joke.

Loki has posed:
Loki holds up a hand, "I mean no insult, Lord of Light. I am never at peace, but I can at least come in affinity, perhaps, for I sense we are more kindred than foe. we are jealous, of course, clinging to the sweet armor of our own egos. I know that siren song. I find your choice of partner intriguing - another fallen soul, another that dwells in shadow. I suppose you are the Light and so you are his oopposite and so must draw one to the other. Like magnets. Bah, I despise magnets. Iron Man loves using magnets. Arrogant little mortal shit."

"I'll take two of these casks off your hands for more than you paid, an amount which you will tell me as a copulsory part of the deal. Aye, I've had my dealings with dwarves, too. I know how they price. But I'll treat you fair, for I've an excess of coin. Business, you ight say, is good."

He finishes the cognac and taps one of the casks, expertly moving his hands until he has himself a frothing glass.

Doctor Strange has posed:
"You're one to use the word arrogant, God of Mischief and Lies. Pot and kettle. Did you only come for dwarven brews? Or was there something more you wanted from the man behind the counter?" Strange takes another drink, before turning to their host with a tip of his head. "Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme. Though everyone here already knew that." His hands shake as he sets the drink back down, ever so subtly.

Sinister gets a chuckle. "Of course not. Except next time, the bar might be the abyss, or the deepest reaches of Limbo, or...who knows. We're the types of people who fate doesn't quite have a decision made for, just yet."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's eyes half hood as Lucifer speaks and he looks at the devil beneath his lashes, with a muted half-smile on lips; the cigarettes lit with a flash of hellfire, he passes one across and brings the other in for a drag, letting the coffin nail idle t'wixt fingers thereafter. "You know Strange, I've never really believed in Fate. It's an argument that denies the concept of free will and I've had a few heated discussion with mister over here," nodding at Lucifer "about the notion that that's an illusion. We're still hotly debating it -- serendipity and happenstance land more in by ballpark, mostly because Chaos theory is an unproven proof that regardless of your belief, somewhere, in a distant nook, someone is tossing pingpong balls at a wall and they're phasing through. And any universe or multiverse where that happens, where gods and men and fallen angels an whatever the hell I am, can chat at a bar and the apocalypse isn't happening? Well, that's a universe with a sense of humour and a lust to be entertained. Therefore, Fate is definitely trumped by purest, silliest probability and improbability."

He doffs a small bow with a roll of hand. "Forgive me. It's been a strange week. A strange month really."

Lucifer has posed:
"Ah, but I ascertained these as a payment of a favor. So, they're really only worth a favor...I cannot put a price on such a thing." Lucifer says to Loki, a little grin twisting the corners of his lips upwards. A side glance is given to Strange, and Lucifer shifts to accept the handshake. "Pleasure to officially make your acquaintance, Stephen. Don't mind Loki here. He and I go back a ways. This is just how we show our friendship with each other. Truly. He would never walk himself onto my domain and then have the gall to actually intend to humiliate me."

There's another glance to Sinister as the man speaks on. Though he actually has to roll his eyes when the man goes on and on about Free Will. "You know my stance on that subject, so I'm not even going to put my foot into this debate. I may be Fallen, but that doesn't mean I don't believe anything that was taught by my Father. Just....took issue with how he was handling certain...things."

Loki has posed:
Loki cackles wickedly at Sinister's harangue, dashing into Chaos theory and other silly mortal ideas about things. Midgard had gotten so full of itself in the last century or so, it was rather ghastly. He partially blames Thor and his heroic cohorts for encouraging this sort of nonsense. Always fighting back against the will of their betters. Growing more insolent and insufferable by the day.

"What a clever tonge you have, Sinister. I see now why he keeps you. The wisdom of the mad can go the deepest, although those depths of time and space, if pondered too deep, begin to leave the cancerous mark of Elder touch upon them, a sniff of annihilation in the ozone. Makes my nose twitdh it does," he says, his voice a little quiet at the end of that, almost hushed.

"I can respect that."

Strange gets to be the proud recipient of an outstretched tongue and a rather elaborate but universal finger gesture that should not be published at this time.

"Ah, you angels and demons, with your favors and your contracts. A bunch of lawyers, the lot of you," he sighs. "I never had to do that, but then you people popularized it and every person looking for a favor or a little advice is eager to dip a pen in their blood and sign away a soul. Sell a kidney first, at least, you fool!"

"I feel like our fathers would get along."

Doctor Strange has posed:
"Well, Satan WAS the prosecutor." Strange replies after the shake of hands with the devil to Loki, smirking at the gesture. He finishes off his margarita. "I think I'll take that martini, actually."

A pause, as he shrugs. "I'm not here to debate fate or philosophy. It's my job to keep a...check on certain things. People like you two count as certain things." He drums a hand against the bar, hiding the worse shaking of it. "And to drink. The bars I'm used to only care about sports. Did you hear about the big game?" He asks, facetiously.

Strange does not intend to talk sports, either.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister listens. Well, it wouldn't do not to. But he <<listens>> too, which leaves him leaning on the bar simply watching Loki with a tiny little lilt of a smile on his lips. Eyes slide over to Lucifer and he twitches his OWN nose, only to give a 'mwah' to the air as he flicks ash from his cigarette.

"I take it the two that are the two are these two and not the other potential two. I'm the other one." He manages the entire sentence conglomerate with a deadpan expression.

"Speaking of the notion of keeping an eye on things..." he checks his pocket watch, a rather tacky thing that has the houses of parliament and big ben on it, but it's engraved with something too small to mention on the inside lid. Sentimentality perhaps? And it does seem to tell more than just the time on the clockface. "Lucifer, I do have to check on Erebus at some point. Given everything else, I don't suspect I'm going to be -allowed- to go alone, eh?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer sighs and shakes his head. "You know. I used to take pleasure in making deals with people. Back in younger times there was something fun and exciting about it. Now people just want to make a deal for the stupidest things...sometimes..." He admits this and then looks to the casks. "Well. I still have a cask left after these two, so why don't you take them. Pay me whatever you think they're worth in Earth money."

Perceptive eyes shift to Strange when he says he'd like a martini after all. With the expertise he's gained as a bartender, it's made and in front of Strange in no time at all. "You said you'd want a tab started right? I'll get that done for you." Shaking hands are seen, but not commented on. Not in the presence of one who seems to think quite little of Strange as a whole. Then he considers. "How is that School of yours coming along, anyway?"

A glance is given to Sinister at the last of his comments, since they were directed towards him. "You ask it like that and make it seem like I keep you on a tight leash or something. You absolutely know why I would not -like- for you to go alone...but I won't force you to take me along." Then he grins. "Besides, you know I'd show up sooner or later anyway while you are there."

Loki has posed:
Loki laughs softly, "Lucifer, don't be so hard on Sinister for being easy to kneel. He isn't truly craven by nature. He's merely taken with your majesty, I suspect. Being such as we have always inspired such devotion. Don't be afraid of it now. It, too, is a form of love."

He puts a hand over his mouth, "Pardon me. Someitmes a wizard's tongue does wander roguish. I surely had no interest in inciting any flames, cold as my old bones might be.

Lucifer feeds on sin. But Loki feeds on this: chaos. Mayhem. The edge of conflict in the air, just a little hint of dissension, just the wariest seedling of distrust. He can't help himself. Just a little bit. But not really. He has no interest in splitting the splending pair.

He just wants to watch them wrestle.

Doctor Strange has posed:
"Appreciated." Strange says, as he takes the martini, watching it made carefully. It's good. "The school is, you know. Schooling." Sounds like he doesn't want to go into detail.

Strange feels his hackles go on edge. Something in the air...he can't place it, but he's feeling frustrated. He takes his martini, and moves to rise and join the 'nightlife' of the club. "I'll catch you all another time. Or stop you from blowing up something important. Either way, I should mingle." He wants out of there, when his inhibitions are already going to be low from drinks.

He does not plan to mingle, just sip his martini and pay. With a nice tip!

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's eyes slide back to Loki, then to the doctor. Feelings. They are dastardly things at times and he tracks Strange with his gaze for a moment or two and considerably longer with his periphery senses. But then, warmth in otherwise cool eyes, is related directly to the devil. And then a veritable glacier finds its way on board as he looks back to Loki.

And a long, deep breath is taken, which is measured out with a sigh.

"You know... there's a thing I discovered about gods. And Celestials of all stripes. You can be right royal idiots at times." He says that with a chuckle, tipping his chin up in defiance that he doesn't actually fully have a grasp over. Bloody emotions! "I bend my knee to no man and no god, without a true desire to do so. I met Lucifer as an equal -- and subsequently we had a lovely little spat about protected peoples and some threats were levvied. Then I asked him for a stroll on the boardwalk and took him on sunny day of mundane ordinariness, like he wasn't who he is. Because it doesn't matter a jot to me -what- you are. Only who. And you can be an arse all you like, that just makes you a shit-stirring button pusher, Loki Odinson. But the multiverse -would- be a lot more boring without you in it. So."

He smiles widely, all sunshine and colgate teeth. "But just so as you know, I'm not mortal. I'm one of those arrogant little sods that managed immortality."

Lucifer has posed:
"Were there threats? I hardly remember now." Lucifer says this much before pouring himself a whiskey. Lifting the glass, he sips slowly and then takes a drag off the cigarette he's been holding for a bit. "I do remember somehow eradicating the rumors you've heard about me, written or spoken, because I am somehow both precisely what they say and a far cry from it. Sometimes at the same time." Though, he is also curious as to how Loki will respond to all this.

The man-god still hasn't actually offered an amount for the ale either.

Loki has posed:
Loki shines a wide grin at Sinister, "And I get to see just a hint of the peacock hidden behind all that gloom. All that civility, all that charm, it's delightful, even when paired with madness. I'm glad to see the madman rules over the gentler shell I saw before. I see through all illusions. Nothing can be hidden from me, not while I reign as Mischief's master."

"Come now, I mean no ill will. I am only playing, as I must do, for I cannot be but that I am. *cough* My goodness, the Shakespearean stuff really does thrill me still. Regardless. I mean no harm. The blessings of Loki upon you both," he says, pressing his hands together with a slight bow.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's gaze watches Loki through all of that, though his ear was to the devil. But at the end result, he looks from the mischief maker to the Lord of Hell with a blink, followed by a lightly amused snort. "You know, I think he might be flirting. Not sure who it is he's flirting -with- but..." he looks back to the frost giant, his expression rolling a tongue through the inside of his cheek, his face schooling itself albeit.

"Raven," he informs. "Peacock is a bit ostentatious for my liking and I -really- have to be in the mood to strut that stuff." And you, godling. Liar, liar, pants on fire! But he keeps that all in the arch of an eyebrow, which /can/ arch so very well indeed. He concludes the lift with a sniff.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer glances between the two and then shrugs. "He very well could be. I would suspect he's flirting with both of us and seeing who bites first. Or perhaps he's goading us to see if we'll latch onto him together...or fight over him. Who knows." Then his gaze fixes to Loki directly. "If you keep saying you mean no harm, I'm going to begin to NOT believe it. I get it. You mean no harm, you're simply speaking your mind. Which is an odd thing for you - personally - to do in my opinion."

He straightens a bit. Sips more whiskey, has another puff on his cigarette. "I am also...a little confused as to what the real topic of conversation is here. It's been sort of cycling around several things and never quite landed on anything. So! Any ideas?"