15600/Thoughts and Fainting Couches

Thoughts and Fainting Couches
Date of Scene:	15 September 2023
Location:	Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis:	Some furniture delivered and some thoughts shared, Uriel's feather must be empowered. What they created, was an Improbability drive. And then, to hide it. Also Michael's a git.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Lucifer, Phantasm (Drago)

---

Sinister has posed:
Well, today was an important day. Today, a surprise couch arrived and was brought up in as hushed a manner as was possible. And then more couches arrived all in the same vein of stylings, with the victorian gothic in black with red highlighting. Thrones and pallantines of the modern age! The fainting couch sits with a gargantuan red and green bow on it, which in hindsight, makes it look all kind of Black Christmassy, but that's almost appropos to who it was for.

And the cabinet from the Night Market arrived also, which sits rather quiet and reserved as part of Sin's curios collection. There's also been a harp purchased, in lustrous ebony with the body made of a pair of wings gilded with rose gold, so it seems a'fire from below, the head stooped and the carving androgenous.

And Sinister, he's sitting in the overstuffed chairs, thumbing through his extensive archive of files, looking at profiles and characteristics of his plethora of samples.

Lucifer has posed:
Since coming back from their most recent trip to Ireland, Lucifer has had to catch up on a bit of business. Filing time sheets, pooling out tips, and there was an accident which rendered one of the dancers down with a broken arm. Workman's Compensation filed to a T, and the family sent a generous lump sum to pad them over while the paperwork and medical stuff all gets taken care of.

By the time he's done, the Lord of Lux is mentally strapped and shuffles in via the elevator which announces his arrival as it always does. A ding of the arrival and his footsteps into the penthouse proper. He gets a few steps past the kitchen island when - finally - he seems to have looked up. And blinks.

"What's all this then? Thrones, couches, plush chairs... oh that harp is beautiful!" But his gaze does shift to the one thing wrapped in green and red ribbon neatly in a bow. "Christmas come early, my love?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister Looked up as soon as the elevator made its tattle tale sound of imminent arrival, so he had a splendid view of the mind-frazzled devil going through the motions of routine. It's an amused and indulged smile that he wears when finally awareness has sunk in. "In a manner of speaking," the reply is given with a grand gesture toward the ribbons.

"House warming, a kind of officially official 'we are cohabiting' gift. We entirely failed to do anything when it -actually- happened, after all." He grins. "To your specifications, I am hoping."

Lucifer has posed:
"To my specifications and then some, indeed..." Lucifer says this much as he walks over to the couch itself and tugs on the ribbons. "They're very pretty and well done. A shame to ruin them..." But he unties them anyway and pulls all the ribbon away. "It's absolutely gorgeous..." Offering this before looking back towards Nathaniel. "You've outdone yourself, my love... this is all so exquisite and really screams the two of us, doesn't it?"

He doesn't lay on the couch just yet. First, he walks over to where Nathaniel is sitting in that plush chair so he can lean over and in to offer the man a tender kiss. It's a bit lasting, but does finally break so he can pull back and then goes back to the couch. Where he faints, properly, onto the couch itself. It holds his weight well and he kicks off his shoes before propping feet up onto the couch as well. "Ahhh....comfort in style."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's expression gets all the more pleased, at the reactions witnessed. It warms the cockles of the black heart, to get things right. "I had inspiration," which he did and a good deal of insight into what might or might not work, from the reactions to illusory furnishings. "I'm ever so glad you approve..."

And then there's that kiss, which is reached into, a hand lifted to cup around the back of that darkling skull, fingers curling into artfully coiffed black. He might wish to linger himself, as expressions of emotion are a profound thing, in their language.

But so it goes and with a light sigh in the wake of it, contented as it is, he watches the proof of the pudding being enacted. "In unique style, no less. I commissioned the pieces and had them devote the entire woodshop team to them. All hand crafted, of course. None of that machined nonsense for cookie cutter life in a shoebox." Eyes travel to take in the art of the drape and swoon and he grins to himself.

"So, now that you're suitably esconced and proving that life immitates art... What do you know about Seers?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer produces a cigarette from the case in his pocket, and then another one for Nathaniel. Lighting both he floats one over to the other man and seems to contemplate on that question for a moment. "Seers?" He hums.

"Are we talking about people who are able to see into either the past, present or possible futures? The ones who have to conjure spirits to do so or use cards or... crystal balls?" He asks this as a clarifying question before glancing back over to Nathaniel, taking a drag off his smoke.

Sinister has posed:
"Yes, that's the kind I mean. Precognitives that are true, rather than the hogswash of confidence artists and grifters," Sinister replies, plucking the cigarette from the air and setting it to his lips. He takes a long, indulgent drag and clicks his fingers, bringing another surprise out from beside the chair he's in. FOOT STOOLS! Because they do not have recliners. He puts his feet up one at a time and rolls his head to the side, cheek smooshed against the wing of the chair as he watches.

Ash is flicked.

"I have to assume that some in history have been accurate. Like the Python of Delphi, rather than the women that got very high and hallucinated interpretations of the serpent. Those sorts."

Lucifer has posed:
"One would surmise that the prophets were seers... soothsayers and the like. I know of at least two that exist today. Perhaps not in this world, but somewhere." Lucifer offers, flicking ash himself. Of course, the ash doesn't dirty the floor but travels precisely where it is meant to go. "Many of them have been people out of their minds... and only by sheer luck did they get things right. Then there's someone like Nostradamus...predicted things by the stars... not really seen as a seer... but predicted many things that have come true."

He shrugs, then he sits up a little so he can pass a curious gaze in Nathaniel's general direction. "Why do you ask?"

Sinister has posed:
"I am exploring options. I have a feeling mostly that Seers, out of the pre and peri-cognatives, are going to be the least useful to my needs..." Sinister replies with a shrug and another drag of the smoke. "There's -supposedly- a few mystical creatures that know all things, so can answer any question asked. But I don't know how well that would work, either." He ponders that predicament with his focus somewhere just above Lucifer's head.

"Partially why I'd love to have a proper conversation with Uriel and perhaps gain his insight. He seems to have a kind of quantum causality ability."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer stands, seemingly reluctant to leave such a beautiful couch, but he's a man on a little mission. "Are you asking me to call Uriel down so you can poke at his angelic brain for a little while?" Asking this as he looks over to Nathaniel, a smirk on his lips. "Cause of all my brethren...he is among a handful I would invite...but I am sure you know this..."

His meandering has him going to the kitchen and he's in there for a moment but doing what is likely unknown. Until he returns with two hurricane glasses, swirling with a miasma of blue and sparkle. "I'm calling this one Twilight Dream. It's got gin, lime vodka, splash of cranberry juice, blue curacao and some edible, drinkable glitter stuff..." He smirks. "Figured while we're talking angels and soothsayers we might as well have a drink."

Sinister has posed:
"My goodness, that will be tangy and a delight on the senses," reaching up to take the glass, Sin raises it in a toast, though a silent one. He nods to the other overstuffed chair. The pouffe is large enough they could both put their feet up on it. "Join me?" -- consideration is taken as he takes a judicious sip, smacking lips at the tart tang with a nod of approval -- "It reminds me a little of a sherbert boiled sweet. Very nice..." inhaaaaaaale.

"I don't know that I'm asking. At the moment, I don't even know what he'd say. But currently, he's also in a good mood, which could improve the odds of achieving an answer that can work. Or a small investment if he's willing to part with it."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer smiles. "I'm glad you like it. Easy enough to make, just put in shaker with ice, mix, drain into a glass and add the sparkle.' Lucifer offers, and then takes the other plush chair aside Nathaniel, feet up on the foot stool aside his lover's own.

Before Lucifer can say anything else, there's a rush of wind in the room, the curtains rustling where they hang. After that momentary sound there's a figure with them in the room. He has stark white hair down to his shoulders, an unearthly whiteness to his skin and purple eyes with a white halo within them. "At least there is a predictability to your unpredictableness, kin." The angel speaks and gives a soft smile. "Also, you're right. I am in a good mood. And whatever it is you wish to ask I hope you can think of it...though the idea of an investment of some sort...intrigues me." He's more on the skinny side, and would seem frail if it wasn't for the angelic power he surges with while standing before them.

Lucifer just smirks. "Hello Uriel."

Sinister has posed:
"Oh, well, that's good to know. I'll probably get the proportions wrong, but..."

FWOOSH. The appearance of the Archangel of wisdom and foresight has Sinister looking over the slim figure with a measure of curious comparison. A glance is shot to Lucifer albeit very brief and back to the visitor. "I would gather this is how you actually look, rather than the appearance you had when last we met. You looked considerably less otherworldly, Uriel. A pleasure to see you..." but something caught there "...Kin?" he walks his shoulders a bit straighter up the chair, glancing to Lucifer again and back.

"Oh. Oh, right. You must have been aware of the issue that might soon be plaguing the world. I've decided that I'm not going to sit back and try and predict what cannot be predicted and plan for every contingency. I want to give us all a fighting chance of not fucking it up royally, like a professional and it's been plaguing my mind ever since it conceived of the notion. Foresight is notoriously fickle, but predication is mired in probability. So I... wanted to see if you'd help me a little, in creating a Parallel quantum probability viewer."

Lucifer has posed:
Uriel tilts his head one way and then the other before looking himself over. "Ah. Yes. I didn't put on a form...did not feel the need to." Which he doesn't correct and simply smiles. "Which Impending Disaster would this be? Supervolcano? Mount Rainer exploding? Asteroid hitting the Earth? Honestly no one has any idea how many near total destructions they've gone through. It's like someone seems to stop them from happening or something at the last minute." He grins.

"I swear it's not me." He adds.

"Well don't look at me either. Last time I tried to stop a calamity, Father nearly read me my last rites. Again." Lucifer offers with a chuckle and then glances to Nathaniel. "Are we talking about the stone? Is that what's bottling up your mind?"

Sinister has posed:
"Well, yes. I've stopped a few calamities myself. Combined, Luci and I have done a number on a few, but yes. The stone. And the world Eater creature that is not of this creation that's following on its heels. And that... is where not interfering, but interfering by proxy is helpful." He smiles at his love, then looks to said aforementioned love's brother.

"You can't help unless you're asked to, I would wager. And that requires petition -- well," here he puts his hands together in prayer. "Uriel, Archangel of Wisdom, keeper of the Gates of Eden, Lord of Repentence and wielder of the flame of Heaven...." he coughs a couple of times, from his position bent over his own emprayered hands, then peeks up. "Would you grant me a single feather from your wings?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer blinks, but then he smiles. It's an endearing thing almost, seeing his lover bowing in prayer in front of the very Angel he's asking a favor from. "Might have to have you do that a time or two in front of me..."

Uriel eyes Lucifer. "Luci? There was a time you would sneer at the very idea of that nickname."

"It's a privelege to call me that name. Few have it."

"Indeed... now then..."

The wings come out, a set of four, billowing of unnatural fire for the flames are not real but from the right angle they very well could seem like it. "Nathaniel Essex. I grant your request..." And he pulls one set of wings forward. "You may take four. As I believe you might need them throughout your lifetime."

Sinister has posed:
"..." that a voiceless sort of expression for Lucifer at the fondness for prayer. He arches an eyebrow fleetingly, a little suggestive uptick more than anything, then he turns back to Uriel. "I prefer his truth, but I am fond of his truest name. But..." he shrugs, because Luci just stuck. "Samael is even more privileged these days."

But then, ohhh, that was more than he bargained for. The fire in the wings has him simply staring a moment or two in sheer wonder. But it would be a faux pas to keep Uriel waiting, in addition to the fact he should -probably- stand up. The approach is measured, stately, not quite humble, but certainly respectful -- until he is right before the White-haired, purple eyed Archangel. He looks Uriel straight in the eye for a long moment, then inclines his head in a quiescence, deferring his gaze to further emphasise the respect.

Reaching both hands out, he glances left and right, then takes a primary from each of the wings, left and right and a mantle feather from each, in the middle of the mass.

And then? He touches his chest, over his heart and reaches out, to do likewise to Uriel. "Thank you."

Lucifer has posed:
Uriel smirks. "Indeed. We do not speak that name at all above." He looks to Lucifer. "You are Lucifer... unless we really want to get under Michael's wings.." He chuckles at that.

When the feathers get pulled he doesn't flinch at all, not a breath of noise at the action. Only flutters his wings a bit once Nathaniel pulls back and then watches that hand over heart gesture. He actually returns it in kind, hand over his own heart and then reaching out to touch Nathaniel's chest. "You're welcome." A smile. "Hate to hand off feathers and go, but it's best I do not stay. I get a head full of people and it's not very nice. It was good to see you both."

A step back and a FWOOSH and Uriel is gone from where he stood. Lucifer just smirks again and takes a sip of his drink. "Michael's going to go ballistic knowing Uriel just gave you feathers..."

Sinister has posed:
"I believe you might be correct on that. However... at this point in time, I don't care how pissy Michael gets. There's an entire english colloquialism that stems from how annoyed he gets on a regular basis. Michael gets angry? I will literally take the Micky out of him." Contemplating the items in his hands, Sin looks at the flight feathers plucked from wings a'flame. "Right. You know this is going to get a bit ridiculous soon, because I need to have Nick talk Urielspeak over this." One flight feather is selected, the others are carefully put into storage in his credenza of mysteries. Meanwhile, he's texting a certain Irish-Italian american.

"By the by, was it me Uriel was referring to with the 'kin' comment, you think?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Whether or not the text message got to Nick is up for interpretation as there is no immediate response to the message. And what, pray tell, would be the reason for such delay?

TIMEZONES.

That's right. Once again the couple have not taken into account what time it is over where Nick is located. And so Nick slumbers away, unaware of the text that reached his phone.

Lucifer has posed:
"Would it offend you if it wasn't? He was referring to me when he said kin... though he likely might have used kin to include us both instead of saying brother." Uriel may be the type to do that. Or so Lucifer thinks. "UrielSpeak? You mean you need Nick to speak into that feather which is already drenched in Uriel-power? What's the intent here? I'm just curious."

There's a glance over to the other man before he takes another sip of his drink. "So what should be on the rest of our agenda this evening?"

Sinister has posed:
"Well, no. Disappointed, perhaps a little bit. But then I don't really expect much in that regard, it was a genuine surprise when Raphael came at my behest. You could've blown me down with a feather at that point in time," twirling the single primary in his fingers, Sin looks at it from all angles. So fragile, but it's a very powerful kind of fragile, just like the one who's wings it came from. "The intention is to use resonance to double down on what this biological artefact contains and help awaken it further. The genetics will do the rest -- it, I think, will be an extremely powerful foci for the device I told him about." He looks up at Lucifer. "It's.... probably rather late there, isn't it? Maybe we should try him in a couple of hours and aammmmm... I'll get a slamdunk breakfast sorted out whilst you collect? This isn't a project I can just let sit about, I have to get actively working on it, because it's going to take a while and we're on a deadline."

He smiles, bobs his eyebrows up and down. "Sooo, that gives us a few hours to kill and I frankly could use one of those red hot thunderstorm showers..." another grin.

~So, some time later... it's early morning in Ireland. Not quite the crack of dawn, but close. Dawn is about to crack from side to side.~

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
It is early morning in Ireland. And Nick continues to sleep. still not knowing about the text message.

These beds are amazing.

Lucifer has posed:
Where there still seems to be no reply from Nick after several hours of them doing other things what need done, Lucifer glances over to Nathaniel. "I could just be rude and pop over there, then knock on the door until he wakes up. Then he'll see the message and I'll already be there to bring him here." He says this much after red hot thunderstorms were had.

Sinister has posed:
"Sounds like a plan. I'm going to just lie here and order the breakfast to be delivered. I don't think I can reliably get up at the moment," Nathaniel grins, gives one last kiss on account of nothing but the fact the devil's right there...

Aaaaaaand...

Well, it'll be a breakfast of the works. Because /there/ it's morning. Here it's the middle of the night and New York does some fantastic pizzas in the middle of the wee hours. Aftermath of partying and the suchlike. Breakfast. Of. Champions.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The morning gets a bit older and a few stray birds outside the hotel put up some tweets about it. Slowly an eye opens, allowing for a pale eye to blearily take in the surroundings.

"Nggh."

Yep. That's a master lyricist right there.

With a grumble, the sleep pants wearing Nick pushes himself up, sitting upright to look to the wall across from him. A hand reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing on to a packet of stapled papers. What's on the itinerary for today?

Lucifer has posed:
Off to Ireland Lucifer goes and because he's been to this hotel before, and both in and out of Nick's room he can appear...just outside the door. He pauses for a brief moment, perhaps even listening for the slightest sound of life.

**Knock, Knock** "Master Drago?" **Knock, Knock** "Master Drago? Are you alive yet? Nathaniel and I have been trying to reach you for a couple hours. We're still properly learning the time zones..."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Hearing the knock, the papers are lowered, allowing for the musician to glance to the door. The voice that soon follows causes for him to tilt his head. Sliding out of bed, he moves over to a chair to grab at the shirt he tossed aside before falling asleep. Tugging the shirt on, the barefooted musician continues the trek over to the door.

There's a pause as he looks through the peep hole, confirming the person on the other side to belong to the voice that he heard. The door is unlatched and opened. A hand lifts up to brush his hair down as a tale of two different states of awareness are told. "Just got up. Come in."

Once Lucifer is allowed in and the door is closed, Nick goes on the quest of 'where the **** did I put my shoes?'

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer smirks. "Well, I hope you don't have much on the docket this morning because your presence has been requested at Chateau Morningstar..." Saying this, with bad french accent included, before he grins while watching the game of where the fuck are my shoes.

"Which is another reason why I'm here, of course. To bring you there and back again once Nathaniel is done with...whatever he needs you for. Your Uriel song... at the very least. Also, we'll have breakfast."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick cracks a slight smile as Lucifer makes the odd accent. The performer gets on his knees, lifting up the bed skirt.

Bingo.

"How in th-?" Shaking his head, Nick lowers himself down further on the floor to reach further.

The mention of the Uriel song gives him the briefest of pauses before the discomfort of the present situation gets him moving again. "The song?" Nick inquires, crawling back out before sitting on his ass. "...He come across a puzzle he can't solve?"

Lucifer has posed:
"Yes. The Apophis Stone. The impending destruction of Earth. We're trying to prevent it. Inevitably, we may also be the reason why the prophecy is coming true to begin with. Life is shit like that. But Uriel - himself - visited last night. Nathaniel asked for a feather, took four, and now he needs your magic on a Uriel-feather to make the power of it more...powerful." Lucifer explains in a nutshell.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick pauses, pulling his shoe on. "...Well, I could try but I don't know for certain what the song does or if it does anything. I know what it's asking for but-"

He shakes his head, tugging on another shoe. "You know what...We'll give it a go." He amends, legs twisting to lift himself back off of the floor, walking over to Lucifer.

"So Uriel, huh? Wasn't it Raphael a few nights ago? Do they usually visit this often?"

Lucifer has posed:
"Yes, it was Raphael the other night. No, they do not usually visit this often. But they were both called down this time... so that is saying something I suppose..." The one that Lucifer is not looking forward to, he doesn't mention.

"Splendid! Alright. We're off!" And all it takes it Lucifer placing his hand on Nick's shoulder and in a plume of smoke and scent of sulfur they're gone from the hotel room in Ireland and appear in the newly furnished living area of the Penthouse.

"Honey! I'm home!"

Sinister has posed:
The smell of several deep pan New York style personal pizzas and wings with garlic toast is what greets the nostrils on arrival. Sin purchased an array, it seems, not sure what people fancied -- and cold pizza is always quite good the next day, as long as it's not made of secret cardboard.

Sin's managed to look presentable, his hair short for once and slicked back, looking young and smart casual, with his trade-mark I'm-not-in-uniform waistcoat over leather pants and White long-sleeve. He's wearing his squeaky raven slippers though, which might throw things off.

**Squeak, squeak** "Coffee's ready. Help yourself to a plate." **squeak squak squaaaaak** "I swear, one of these days we'll ge the timezones right. It doesn't help that we don't need sleep." He graciously presents cups, a couple of them irished.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick is slightly less presentable having rolled out of bed and throwing on a shirt and shoes. But that's STILL more clothes than the night of the pillow and quilt assault so...progress?

The mention of coffee gets a grateful look as he gets one of the more sobering renditions of the drink. "Thanks. So, Lucifer mentioned you needed me for something?"

Nick takes the time of response to down some of the coffee.

Lucifer has posed:
Before anything else can happen, or any questions be answered, time slows down. Well, for anyone but Lucifer who glowers at the area around him and then turns into his periphreal vision. He puts on a smirk and straightens himself up. "We were wondering when you would show up... but really... on the tail of Uriel's Wingfeathers? Have you absolutely no class, brother?"

Michael, who looks precisely like Lucifer but in many ways 'darker', glares at the Morningstar. "You tred in waters you know nothing about. How -dare- you influence the line of Drago as you're doing...."

Lucifer actually laughs. "Influence? In what way? Nick has helped us in many ways, and in kind we've helped him a few times. It's not -my-fault that certain other kin of ours may have pushed us together a bit more than what could have initially happened... but this is as much my fault as it is yours...you just have a sore spot about it..."

Time finally resumes, and in the moments that might have passed for Nick and Nathaniel, there is suddenly two identical looking Lucifers there. One appearing much more 'dim' than the other. Nathaniel has met Michael before. Nick, of course, has not. "Michael Nicholas Rapahel Drago... it is in utter dismay that I introduce you to Archangel Michael..."

Sinister has posed:
Tune that time-warp out and you get a little blip in the mind that bespeaks a lot of nefarious things -- that would be the ultimate assassination technique if not for the fact that the Host aren't permitted to harm humanity, without there being a damn good reason or an edict from on high. But it does get Sin's hackles up, when suddenly there's a second or two when his thoughts were warning him something was...

"Michael. What a /delightful/ surprise to see you," absolutely deadpan and dry as the kalahari desert, Sinister looks up from where he'd set out the pizza and was finishing off plating up.

"Nick, be careful, he has a habit of getting into your brain and making you doubt yourself. Which is precisely the worst kind of feeling you can imagine, so I tell you in advance, it might not be housed in -your- will."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The JUST out of bed Nick with the quickly thrown on clothes is pretty much chasing down the morning sleepiness with the cup of coffee. So, with this bleary state in mind, please consider the following scenario.

There's a glance over to Lucifer and Sinister. The coffee cup goes up. There is a long sip. And the coffee cup goes down. And now he's seeing double.

Maybe he's still ti-

Well no, if he was seeing double then there'd be another Doctor as well. Also would he probably be considering all of this if he was actually tired?

So, judging from the fact that they're dressed identically, and past conversation. This is likely the twin Lucifer's been talking about. The likely upset one.

WHY DOES HE GET TO SEE THE UPSET ONE?

Now. Outwardly what those in the room gets are crickets as Nick looks dumbly to the newcomer. Lucifer's voice jarring him out of the lengthy thought process going on behind the scenes. The introduction confirming who he surmised.

Nick lowers the cup, shifting it over to the other hand before he lifts up his dominant hand in a wave to the Archangel. "...Hi."

Sinister's warning gets a glance from the rocker. There's a slow nod. Okay. So, the archangel's no different than all the adults he's encountered in Hell's Kitchen. Good to know.

He looks over to Michael, "Yeah, I would prefer it if you didn't do that."

Lucifer has posed:
The Archangel comes forward a few steps, shoulder-checking his brother 'out of the way' so he can get a better look at Nick. "Don't let them make you think you're anything special to me. Do you know how many people in the whole of existence have chosen me to be a patron saint? You're a small pebble in a huge pool..."

Lucifer takes a step forward. "Then why be so upset about this one? If there's so many others. I mean, we know the reason, I just wonder if you can admit to it. Or is your pride getting too big for your wingspan?"

"Damn you back to the pits of HELL, Samael!"

"Been there. Done that. I'm even getting tee shirts made. Look, in all seriousness, why are you here? Raphael and Uriel didn't show themselves to him. Why do you..." Then he pauses, and then he rolls his eyes.

Lucifer takes the opportunity of his brother being a little out of his mind to walk up, turn him to face Lucifer proper and then punches him square in the jaw. "Oh yeah. That's for Leonard."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister looks over at Nick, back to the Archangel Michael, he of the sour puss and now aching jaw. There's an 'oooooo' for the right hook, and a wince, but it's with a grin on his face. "How to make friends and influence people, one oh one. You just couldn't leave it alone. It's a mystery to me..." he shakes his head with it. "See what I mean though?" that to the rocker, he looks back to Michael.

"Would you like some ice for that? I think we have some frozen peas in a bag in the freezer." Again, deadpan.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
With the general cue from Sinister regarding the twin's favored tactics. It's not a total surprise with how quickly the angel resorts to it. If there's one thing he's learned, it doesn't really matter who they are. It doesn't matter what strengths they have. A bully is still a bully.

Well, at least he's no longer tired.

The rocker stays in his place, posture straight as he tilts his head up to look to the latest arrival to the penthouse. By the time Michael finishes his first sentence, Nick slightly ...smiles.

The expression is short lived as Lucifer lands a sound punch to Michael's face. Brows lifting, he steps back to look to the twins.

Sinister's question gets a nod in response. "You weren't kidding. He just went right into it."

Sorry Michael. Nick's seen this before.

His aunt would have loved him.

Lucifer has posed:
"You insolent brat! It will be a cold day in hell before they ever think of letting you back beyond the pearly gates..." Michael says this as he rubs his jaw. A human punching him would have done nothing, from Lucifer, it actually stings a bit. "This was just a courtesy. I've been wanting to meet the man behind the songs... regardless of what order he wrote them in. Mothers are always favored I suppose..."

"Your visit is about to be short lived, Michael. No one wants you here. No one called you down, and I sure as shit know no one above told you to come here with any kind of mission. You're just here to get a rise out of people. It's not working...which only pisses you off further." Lucifer positions himself between Nick and Michael then. "This is your one chance to leave peacefully. I will force you back if I have to."

Michael's eyes narrow, and he glances over to Nathaniel to at least give the man a huff if nothing else. He then side steps Lucifer and looks to Nick once more. "You're lucky there's more to your story that's yet to be written..."

Sinister has posed:
Sin has one of those odd looks on his face at the moment, not really so much getting a rise as he just got immensely curious. "The appropriate action when someone is standing between you and someone else, is NOT to oblige with a sidestep. I -want- to like you, you know. I really do. But you're not all that likeable and frankly you don't seem to want to be." He sniffs, shakes his head.

And with a sound of ripping, his wings come out and he takes a step forward, raising them high and wide in a mantle of display that's highly recognizable to the host. And he's just a step infront of Nick.

But Nick's shorter than him and can easily see -under- the wings.

The feathers rustle in warning.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick looks to Michael with a look of disbelief. "Seriously?"

Oh HELL no.

He looks to Sinister, "Did he just threa-" He pauses, knowing the answer. Empty threat or not-

WOOMPH!

And now there's wings in his line of sight.

He tilts his head under the wings to look to Michael, generally taking the cue from Lucifer and Sinister that he should just stay back there for the moment. And being they're more familiar "Are you serious right now?" Nick asks of the Angel peeking around his brother to get wing-blocked by Michael. "Is it REALLY necessary for you to be saying shit like that?"

As his hair falls into his face, Nick sighs. Bringing a hand up, he sweeps his hair back and crouches down, allowing for him to just stare up at Michael from where he crouches. Not the best positioning but it's better than speaking with his head upside down. "...Listen, I'll give you this. That song of yours is probably the strongest one I have when it comes to what I can use it for. But, if writing it and using it opens me up for this type of behavior? Then I'd much rather toss it."

Lucifer has posed:
Michael's eyes narrow in Nick's direction and then raise a bit as Nathaniel sprouts wings. This gives him a moment of pause which is perfect for Lucifer to step right back in.

And when he does, there's a shimmer of light that surrounds the Morningstar and when it ebbs, he stands with his six pairs of wings, long blonde hair, skin a pure tanned color and a flaming sword in hand.

"You do not come into the House of Morningstar, without cause or call, and threaten those within it's walls. I gave you a chance to leave, and you can still take it. Or I will send you back to Heaven in pieces that will take -ages- to put back together."

Michael pauses, and then he staggers back a few steps for even for the Archangels, the light of the Morningstar can be a bit bright to handle. He gives a grunt and then he looks skyward before eying the three as best he can. Opening his mouth, he closes it for a moment and then speaks. "The song...honors me...regardless of when you wrote it. I would hate to see it tossed away..." And perhaps hate the backlash from above even more.

With figuring there's not much more to say, and not one to apologize regardless of fault, Michael simply steps back once more and in a FWOOSH - is gone from the Penthouse.

Lucifer's wings fold down against his back as he turns to the other two. "No more calling angels for a bit... I'm not inviting any of them back so soon unless the situation is dire." He looks to Nick. "I'm sorry, Nicholas. My brother's got a lot to answer for, and this just adds to the ever growing list."

Sinister has posed:
"There's one in -every- family, shame to say..." Slowly the red fringed black pinions fold back and then reflexively tighten in. They're VERY closely folded, but they don't go away yet. Bit of a betrayal as to the emotional state there, Sin, but there we go.

He looks down to Nick, after shaking the awe out of his eyes a little. "The one in my school was known as Bernard Munchin -- I suppose really, that he had a good reason to fight back about that name, but he turned it into making every junior in the preparatory into a jibbering wreck."

Studying, he hazards a look back at Lucifer and nods lightly. "Agreed. I am going to be quite happy to not..." but then he does aim himself at his credenza, to withdraw the ebony quill box that he put aside for the purpose, bringing it over to where Nick crouches and opening it up. "For what it's worth on the other end of things, Uriel was very generous." There are four feathers in the box, he selects only one, a primary and sets it down.

It is quite beautiful, even by angel standards, as the wings of Uriel burn with heaven's flame. They're shimmery with it, akin to a Phoenix.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As Michael glares at Nick, Nick glares right back. That is until Lucifer starts bringing the light well past the levels Lucia's Light ever did for Nick. Eyes squint, then close.

Nick is left to imagine the scene on the other side of the closed lids and the hand that's lifted to help with the shading of the light.

Idly he wonders how many times Lucifer has had to do this in this building and if they ever had to explain the light that escapes from the windows.

Michael's response regarding the song is at least promising. Probably risky but - He honestly didn't have much in terms of options. That song was the only leverage he could think of.

As the intensity of the light is no longer felt on the skin, Nick opens a cautious eye before lowering his hands. Lucifer's apology gets a small smile. "It's not your fault." He responds, "All he really did was reinforce the past comments." The smile fades, "Shame really."

No one really wants to find out first hand how much of a dick their namesake is.

As Sinister names a person who caused problems.

"James Smith and Dennis Morretti." Nick admits, "The others were too old to be in school."

As Sinister brings out a box. Nick focuses upon it. Watching quietly as a shimmering feather is set down. "Right... Lucifer said you needed my help?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer sheathes the flaming sword and turns his head down and aside as if listening to something only he can hear. Likely so, considering he was trying to attune to Heaven for a moment, to see if anyone else was going to get the bright idea to come visit right now.

We've had enough. For now. We'll call again soon.

Once satisfied that none other was coming, the visage of wing and sword disappear leaving only the bright Archangel and even that shimmers away to his usual appearance all dark haired and broody apparel.

"Now then. I shall let you two do...whatever it is you need to do...and will eat. Silently. And watch."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister nods to Lucifer, watching throughout that. His attention turns back to Nick and the feather though, in prompt order and he kneals. "Yes, I need you to speak the words of your invocation, over the feather. Give it a booster juicing of Urielishness, to fully awaken its potential. I think, in actual fact, you're the only one in the world of the here and now, that could pull it off. But sadly, I couldn't exactly tell you -how- to put the words into it."

His wings shuffle slightly a sign of his current tension, but they keep flat and tight to his back.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick nods, looking to the feather for a few moments. Considering the situation. Pretty cut and dry really. Threat of another apocalypse. Running low on ideas. And he most definitely doesn't want this threat to become true. The crouch lowers, knees setting upon the floor as he rests his ass upon the heel of his shoes. Something a nun would likely take offense to. He's not sure if this will work. But being that the feather's there, why go halfway?

Intent.

Why is he asking?

To help others. To protect. To survive.

Will?

Oh yes. Sometimes he's just running on the fumes of it.

Timing?

Well.

...

Here goes.

Eyes closing, Nick's nostrils let in a slow steady stream of air that settles within.

Outstretched fingertips rest to the floor to either side of Nick's kneeling form.

More quiet, and then he releases the breath, letting out a slow but rhythmic sound.

\<span style="color:xterm222"\>'The world is complex with possibilities aplenty,
Actions need to be made from choices too plenty.
One thing that we can learn to prize,
Is to take advice from the wise.'

Uriel, please open up your book,
Show the potential outcomes, give us a look.
Allow us to better help our fellow man,
Give us sight of a better plan.

Help us to Inspire, to climb up even higher
Over the challenges to us laid before.
Cool our tempers so we can think clear
On the matters that hold us dear.'\</span\>

Three verses, but with the pacing of it, more than enough for a song. And then-

Nothing.

Nick opens his eyes, glancing to the feather.

"Hmm." Nick tilts back, "Mayb-"

As his fingers lift from the floor there's a flash of light coming from his dominant hand, arching over to his non-dominant one, forming a bit of an electric tether.

Nick blinks. "OH! That's why."

Pulling his hands further apart, the energy snaps back over to his dominant before he reaches to the feather, discharging it into the feather with a satisfying zap of static.

Sinister has posed:
There's a goodly deal of anticipation to be had in this moment -- but more for Sinister. He gazes steadily at the feather on the floor, the man that's about to evocate and... mostly at the feather. Very still, not even breathing.

The moebius of energy when it manifests itself paints his pale skin in gilded edging the satisfaction of static a semi-colon in the events of things yet to come.

But all of them in the room with an ounce of awareness, can feel a kind of positive feedback loop beginning. What power there was before, is now feeding into itself.

Makes one wonder how much energy a single feather can contain. Infinite probabilities. That's what.

This is the equivalent, right here, on the floor of the Improbability drive.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Once the energy discharges into the feather. Nick falls back, butt landing upon the floor as his legs twist to more of a crossed leg position. He gives a small smile before moving his hands back to support the parts that aren't directly on the floor. "...So, that one is kind of like Raphael's Flask apparently."

Sinister has posed:
"Apparently so, if there's an investiture. It could be versatile, depending on what you're aiming it at." Taking up the feather again, he doesn't dare breathe for a little while. "I'm sorry that took a lot out of you. And I'm sorry you had to be on the receiving end of Michael. And all before you've actually had breakfast." He nods to the pizzas and such, standing up straight. "I have to get this secured. Help yourself, we'll get you back to Ireland in one piece..."

And with that, Sin concentrates a short while before the ozone circle arrives and a tenacle pulls him through, wings, feather and all.

One wonders if that was wisest, but given the item he was carrying? Probably.