14881/Mind exercizes

Mind exercizes
Date of Scene:	01 April 2023
Location:	Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis:	Post meeting mystical powerhouses, Sinister smudged himself. And took a small trip down memory lane.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Lucifer

---

Sinister has posed:
The beauty of a club, is that it can generally carry on doing what it does and being what it is, with or without its regulars. Mind, it's not Sinister's call how much the Host remains below or any much else, the devil is after all, his own man.

But the Doctor is occasionally the kind of person to be extremely anti-social, when crowds give one a headache no matter what shielding you do. Too many poisonous or shallow little thoughts that are best placed in toads or puddles, not in the heads of people.

So, he called it a night early, with a kiss and withdrew to the lofty heights at the top of the elevator shaft.

And now? Now, there is a prayer mat upon the floor in the very center of the room, loose meditation pants worn but naught else. Bare of chest, the scent of burning sage permeates the air, as smudging has been met, serenely, with painting of white skin with the ashes. The markings are similar to the mohawk war paints, in design, though not near as colourful. He sits cross-legged, going through the smudging process with graceful movements and a slow deep breath...

Lucifer has posed:
Sometimes there is also only so much the Devil can handle. Can he last a little longer than Sin? Yes. Though that also comes with a side worry about how Sin is doing, and the one with the forked tongue that couldn't seem to make sense of anything he was talking upon worked Lucifer down to naught but forced smiles and nods.

So he, too, retreats upstairs after a little while and once the doors to the Penthouse open he sheds tie, jacket, belt and shoes. His shirt gets untucked and he furthers his steps until he finds Sinister on that prayer blanket. A tilt of his head given as he watches for a moment and then he sort of smirks.

"It may take a bit more than smudging and a prayer to rid yourself of Loki's torment..."

Sinister has posed:
"You're probably right, but it does feel nice to have a cleansing. I..." Sinister exhales, opens an eye, looking at the undone nature of attire and concluding that everything is now on the personal side. Finish your sentence, man. A little huff at the end of the breath and he rolls his head back, cracking his neck left and right, before commencing again. "I learned this when I first came to the colonies. The americas. It was a strange winter, honestly and I was up... in what ended up being Canada. It was just being a place, then."

He proffers the sage bundle to Lucifer with a nod to join him on the mat. "It's intimate, but centering."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer raises a brow and then nods his head. "What did you use this for in what would become Canada?" Asking even while he shifts to accept the bundle of sage while also sitting across from Sinister on the mat. Facing him. "Don't take Loki for too much. A lot of his game is smoke and mirrors. Though it seems you might have already known that. He's an amusing idiot, but an idiot none the less. Too big for his pants, and I think he knows it and simply over compensates."

The sage is wafted a bit, to let it's scent and smoke fall upon and between them. "The Doctor though. That Stephen Strange. I swear he's the one Nick Drago has spoken about at times. He's the one I'm definitely curious about..."

Sinister has posed:
"He strikes me as the kind of being that is immensely cunning. Not necessarily clever -- and he likely overstretches himself on a regular basis, in the sure belief that this time, he's liable to be victorious. And as such, has to make it all up as he goes along. Trickers are so very often of a similar ilk," Sinister watches the smoke, then the man beyond its hazy veil, focusing on the shirt a long moment, the button fastenings in particular, then back to dark blue eyes.

"We return to what we know, don't we? It's a learned response, one that sometimes becomes habitual, but occasionally is just a tool. I was disgusted with europe and wanted to see if a frontier could provide me the space and focus that I felt was being stifled at the time. So, by the time industry had pushed the railroad toward the west coast, I took a boat with french trappers and went north, to see if the unspoiled savages lived up to their so-called reputation. Somewhere on the shores of lake Superior, I had lost two of my party, was intrinsically lost and it was bitterly cold."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer shrugs a little. "I have simply learned to keep him at an arms length. He thinks he knows everything but in truth, he only ever scratches the surface. His God complex is humorous though."

Listening still, he'll seem to think on what Sinister is saying before answering. "So in turn, being irritated or...displeased perhaps? At what was going on downstairs, you came up here and put yourself into a position that was the most calming and familiar?" He maybe has that right, but he also could have it all wrong.

Sinister has posed:
"Essentially," Sin licks his bottom lip, his train of thought in 'story time' mode. "The indigenous people attacked us first, killed the frenchmen and tried to kill me. It didn't quite work according to plan -- that was... before, now... let me see..." he squints, narrowing his eyes. "Before everything but the lack of aging, telepathy and telekinesis. But two out of three of those are quite handy when you're being attacked. And then well, communication and their medicine woman was quite insightful. She could see all the knots and twists and burrs on my mind and body, perhaps by how I was carrying myself, I never really knew. But they took me in from the cold and smudged me in their sweat lodge and it was transcendent, in the end. A lot got purged in the sage smoke. So it tends to be something I ..." he gestures at the whole area "...find some Zen with, I suppose." He smiles to Lucifer.

"Wound up by what was going on downstairs. I am none the wiser really, as to what that was about. And his mind, well, that was the very height of superiority, I'm surprised he didn't think of me as a monkey. But I am quite pleased he thought of me. I think he might have been weighing my appropriateness." He gestures across the way "On a celestial level."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer listens intently as Sinister continues the story of how he wound up being treated to native treatments. "Well. At least it helps you, but this intrigues me a bit more because you are normally so quizzical and...how to say...well perhaps it's best to simply say sometimes you seem a bit unsure of the mystical. Yet you find solace in what is - at it's core - a sort of mystical treatment." He smiles, his eyes shimmering with the humor behind the teasing.

"It is likely not the last time we'll see him either, unfortunately. But I cannot help to keep him at arm's length. For the just in case." A grin then. "It will be interesting to see if he comes around when his brother is here." There's a pause then. "...So. Should we tell Nick that we've met Strange?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's lashes lower at the teasing, his mouth becoming a little mock-stern rosebud, pinched in. He relaxes only enough to smudge the end of Lucifer's nose with a bit of sage ash and to set the smoking bundle aside on a ceramic plate. "Some mystical practices, supposedly magical in nature, are rather a cleverness of technique. Aromatically, sage is very soothing on the nostrils -- but I prefaced this entire thing with a 'we do what we know'; the ritual reminds the mind. The mind receives the benefit and the body follows." He nods, but then winks. "But I know what you meant." He looks up at the ceiling then, heavenward and with another deep inhale, drops his shoulders forward with an arch of spine, to allow his wings to grow, which they do as an unfurl and not as sometimes is, as a burst. Slow, he exhales all the negative as he stretches the pinions out all the way to their furthest extension and juuuuuuuust about manages to brush a primary feather on the wall to either side.

In a murmur at the control and exertion of it all "Are we expecting Thor? Or do you think it's simply inevitability at work? And of course we should. You seemed to be measuring Strange. He is, by the by, immensely potent."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer just lets all the talk about mystical magics and ritual lie where it gets set down. When Sinister lets out his wings and they unfurl in such a way only to stretch, he smiles. "Your wings are so very lovely, my dear. I could watch them all day..." Offering this much at least to that extent before actually unfurling his own white wings, bringing them around and forward to brush against Sinister's own. Perhaps to aid in the relaxing.

"We might be. I don't think me announcing I have Asgardian Ale is going to cause it to last very long should he hear of it. Or if rumors of where Loki has been lurking begin to just.... pop up." He grins then. "As for Strange, yes. I was measuring him. He seems potent. I just wonder what all he can truly do..."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's breath is held along with the supreme stretch of the wings to their furthest, let out a little quickly when contact is made, black with white. He looks up at the rather stark contrast of the pinions and folds his slightly, so that they can tuck their leading edges beneath the larger white. The smile is small, a little goofy looking as the crookedness of it is not quite enough to call it wry. "You know what I think of yours," his tone soft. There's something about them, because they are what they are. Because Lucifer is what he actually is.

"If rumour is to be believed, he can rewrite whole segments of the universe. He isn't the only one with such a talent, though. I've always been a little mindful of those claims though, because if it's been rewritten, how would any of us know? Because we'd have been rewritten within it." He gives a wide-eyed, small mouthed look at that with a slow sage nod. "Truth."

Lucifer has posed:
"And if that's the case, then who's to say it hasn't already been re-written in some way, some how..." Lucifer offers this and then seems to think on it for a moment. It contradicts some things that he's known his entire existence. God. Your fallible. Just deal with it. "Anyway... yes. I know what you think of my wings. I know that you often have found comfort and solace in them as well." A smile offered then. "So perhaps when you're done here, we can go to bed and I can cocoon you in my wings for the night."

Sinister has posed:
"I know, right? And down that road leads to a circular existence, where you end up back right where you started," Nathaniel tilts his head a fraction, folding the flame-tinged black to his back, neat and tidy. The raven perches! "I would like that," he replies mildly, seems to be building up to say more there, but lets it fizzle out with a relaxation of his features. Eyes travel as he studies the angel. "Something went through your mind there, I'd wager. But now might not be the time for it," as things might arise to alter the mood if the devil dwells.

He doesn't put his wings away, as he stands from the blanket, reaching hands for Lucifer's to draw him with.

There will be much stroking of feathers.