15662/So lets get the Alibi straight...

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So lets get the Alibi straight...
Date of Scene: 01 October 2023
Location: Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis: Behold the aftermath of a cross-wired Wade, the improbability drive and Constantine. It's definitely going to bite everyone's bum, eventually.
Cast of Characters: Sinister, Phantasm (Drago), Lucifer, Constantine

Sinister has posed:
In the aftermath of a cosmic light show, where one penthouse ended up looking like a lighthouse and electricity was going haywire on several city blocks in Melville... things are quiet.

Not too quiet though. Relax, have a couple of drinks, tidy up the ashy remains of a Sorceror Supreme. All those good things.

Interlude: Sinister vaccuming by brainpower, the Devil doing a spot of dusting by directing a duster around with a fingertip. That kind of thing.

But now, there's a stable glowing orb and a man locked in their bathroom, who may or may not understand falling out of his shower with nothing but a towel on, landing on a two hundred year old mutate geneticist villain and then being dressed and essentially held without consent.

These things tend to require people to get their story straight, but what with the power surges and the electrical grid, there might be more than a few things distracting from that. Perfect time for new visits from old frenemies, right?

"We're GOING to have to let him out at some point, you know." Sin, into his second bottle of cognac now, is sitting in his overstuffed easy chair, staring at the bathroom. "Upside: The elevator's behaving itself now."
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
To add to the urgency there is a bit of a serenade coming from the bathroom door down the hallway.

Bang! Bang!


Bang! Bang!

"Guys, the knob's turning but the door's not budging. Anyone?"
Lucifer has posed:
"YOU were the one who decided to actually LOCK him into the bathroom in the first place..." Lucifer says this much, letting duster continue it's dusting all Sorcerer's Apprentice style, while he walks down the short hall and knocks on the door thrice. "Step away for a moment and I'll get you out, Mister Shaw."

One, two, three, flick and twist. The door unlocks and opens with nary a sound and then Lucifer turns to walk back down the hallway to flop into onto his throne. Yes. Throne. Gothic styled, with red cushion and a snake with raven in the carving details. "You can keep the clothing... old threads for me..." He offers before rolling his eyes back to Nathaniel.

"So...what's next? We go tell our Sorcerer Supreme that another one has bitten the dust and is now inside the orb?"
Constantine has posed:
Constantine's cab pulls up outside the luxury apartments here in Melville with him still passed out in the backseat.

Hey buddy, you're here...
"Wh-what.. where?"
The cabby points at the curbside, This is where I was told to drop you off...
"I don't even know you, mate.. what are you on about."
The cabby shrugs and John exits the vehicle, powerless to the wheels of fate drawing him around by his preverbial collar. With the beat up old sedan pulling away, John, who looks like he's been shining one on since sometime last week, reaches in his coat pocket to retrieve a pack of silk cuts and a lighter. Depositing one betwixt his lips and producing a flame to tilt forward into lighting his ciggie as he approaches the front doors. A kind of familiarity donning on him the moment he's in the lobby.

"Bollocks..." Because ofcourse it's Lucifer's place, why wouldn't it be? Hit the button, call the vator, ride it up listening to elevator versions of popular party music. Absently bobbing his head as if he's enjoying it even though there's no way he is.... and then out into, well... this.


Smoke follows him, one hand in his coat pocket, the other scissoring the black stalk of his cigarette, making his way towards a throne, a singing captive, and a domesticated telepathic geneticist using his ultimate mental prowess to vacuum a carpet. Waving his fingers, clutching the cigarette, back and forth. "Did you lads have a party without me?"
Sinister has posed:
"Well, the alternative was him having fixed himself up, coming out and reality realizing this version of him should've been vapourized. I doubt that would have sat well..." Sinister notes in with an amused kind of snort. The entreatise from the bathroom at least, will stop soon. Although then come the questions, potentially.

Caught in a peculiarly familiar feeling though, the cognac is brought to lips, drunk straight from the neck unlike his usual modicum of class... but it freezes there. Familiar. Why is that familiar?

But he's caught once again by the current, with Lucifer's question. "Well, that would be relatively logical, except I for one, have no idea how to even -broach- that subject sensibly." Patting his waistcoat pocket for his cigarette case, a couple are lit, one floated over to Lucifer as he stretches his legs out. He's not so much poised as flopped, but still somehow manages to convey that was the total intent of his current lack of good posture. And to the elevator once again, before the chainsmoking hellblazer arrives, he squints then looks back to the devil. "Are we expecting anyone by the more logical route of actual transportation and not falling out of thin air?" -- and then there's his answer. Just John, the man that unfolded himself out of a toad once. Par for the course tonight. "Nevermind, suddently the familiar itch has cleared itself up." A chuckle. "Something like that, John. Something like."
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Hearing the request to step back, the blond man moves away from the door. Unlike the way he came in wearing nothing but the towel. The previously described 'nice' ass of his is covered this time with the pants Lucifer had given to him earlier. The shirt was also pulled on and DESPITE all his time locked into his bathroom, he's still got a bit of chaos to his hair, which is likely due to his own hair supplies being located in his hotel bathroom on the other side of a portal that has long since closed.

But at least the clothes provided to him fit amazingly well.

Celebrate the small victories.

Once freedom of sorts is granted, Wade steps out of the bathroom quickly before there's a chance to close the door once more on him. Listening to Lucifer's question to the scientist regarding talking to the sorceror supreme, the man looks curious. "Which one?"
Lucifer has posed:
"Again. I will stress that the not-so-logical means of people falling into the apartment was your fault. Not that we knew what was going to happen at the time... but still..." Lucifer smirks as he pulls out his own silver cigarette case, retracts two and then places the case back into his pocket. The cigarettes are both lit and then one is floated over to the cognac-bottle-sipping Nathaniel.

As Wade makes himself known, Lucifer's gaze shifts over to the man while he draws on his cigarette before taking a sip of whiskey. His in a glass like a proper Devil should have. "Not the one from this world. We wouldn't have accepted that. But from another realm, already on the brink of death, and using that to help the greater good of this realm." He pauses. "And likely a few others." He's not going to sugar coat anything, and the man did ask. Lucifer cannot lie.

The elevator has announced a new arrival, gaining Lucifer's attention and when he spies Constantine, he grins. "Johnny boy! As I live and breathe. It's been a minute since you've graced us with your presence. Your looking a little more unkempt than usual. What's going on?"
Constantine has posed:
John meanders, as John oft does, towards the liqour cabinet as if he was invited to do so rather than inviting himself. There's an air of 'fucked upness' in the apartment that begs that he'll probably want a drink to hear this, even though he was neither invited to hear or nor, particularly, needed to solve it.

What's he going to say? That this is the weirdest thing HE'S ever seen (or done?)

The ciggie bobs from his lips, motioning at the glasses and bottles, it's a question as much as any indication, and probably all he's got in stock. Generally speaking, anyways. It is the Devil's Apartment. "I never thought I'd say this, mate, but from the sounds of it, I'm doing a shade better than you lot." He always has a thick accent, but he always gets a little more dramatic with it when putting on airs. "Who's the lad?" Thumbing at Wade with a glance, then down at his glass where he's deposit two ice cubs and covered it in vodka. Everyone has to drink something different, that's the rules.

"Sorcerer Supreme from another universe is dead... and he sacrifices himself?" John hisses through his teeth, smoke curling up betwixt them, "My pickled white arse.. that fucker doesn't do anything without a backend..." Long drink of vodka, "How long 'til things go tits up and we're facing some nightmarish after effect from Strange's selfless sacrifice, I wonder."
Sinister has posed:
"Luci... hush..." Sin gently rebukes, without much in the way of anything beyond the 'stop rubbing it in' aspect. He 'mwahs' toward the devil, only to manspread in his chair a bit more as the cigarette is floated over to HIM too. He holds his own up, the newcomer and shrugs. Doublefisting nicotine is not going to be argued with right now, although it does add to the air of post-event frazzledness. But Wade's initial words, they cause an eyebrow spock, particularly when Lucifer just goes on and explains, expounded by John in his often unique manner. "Alrighty then. So you're -not- this world's Wade. Wade, this is the Hellblazer, John Constantine. You might know Lucifer, the lord of Hell. I'm Nathaniel Essex, just in case that was unclear and... you are Wade Shaw. Friend of Nick Drago?"
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Wade frowns to the explanation, "There was another from the merge?" He asks. He pauses, Wait no- Gotham was messed up when it merged with Hoboken, but I wouldn't call it dead. Was there another m-" There's a general sense of alarm building within the man as he steps over to the machine, glancing up to where he had fallen from. But finding nothing there, he turns back to look to Sinister and then Lucifer. Brows lifted.

When Constantine names the Sorceror that sacrificed himself as Strange. The blond pauses, before letting out a long breath. Relief?

Constantine's inquiry causes for him to look to him. But before he can answer the question, Sinister sort of answers for him.

Sort of.


He stares at the doctor, looking to Lucifer. "Well, I was going to ask how you knew me but- Yes. Mike and I have known each other since he joined Greysong."

He glances back over to the area the portal once was. "...Is this another world merge?"
Lucifer has posed:
There's a moment where Lucifer just looks between Constantine and Wade before he stands and sets whiskey upon the gothic coffee table. His cigarette still in hand. There's a few thoughts, several that just whiz through his head with such velocity if he wasn't an angel or some sort of supernatural creature his head might have literally spun from the lash of it.

"Okay so you're Wade Shaw, friend of Nick Drago, but not the Wade Shaw friend of OUR Nick Drago, because we don't call him Mike, we call him Nick. For reasons. Trademarked, of course." He then looks to the orb that is casually floating, spinning, but nothing like the light show it was before.

"Regardless of how you see it - as fortunate or not - that thing turned the Penthouse into a multidimensional transporter of sorts. We got you, not-our-Wade. We also got not-our-Sorcerer-Supreme. The one we got was a lich of sorts who had already resigned to the fact that he was going to die one way or the other. Course he did tell us to tell OUR Strange that he achieved something OUR Strange never could. Self sacrifice with a hint of narcissicm... which is very Stephen Strange indeed." He offers.

Then there's a glance to Nathaniel. "So now we need to figure out where THIS Wade Shaw is from and I hope that the Constantine who is standing here right now is OUR Constantine... which I would assume you are since you travel multi-dimensional of your own accord anyway which makes me believe there is only one of you and you alone which means no matter which dimension you came from recently you'll always be the Constantine we know." Pause. Consider. "Greysong. That's not the name of our Nick's old band... which is Silver Round. So we need to figure out where to return you to before you're gone for too long.."
Constantine has posed:
Constantine turns and rests his ass against the counter from wince he got vodka. In one hand he's craddling the glass, which periodically comes up for a sip, because even he knows when to appreciate good alcohol. In the other he's scissoring a cigarette which alternates with the glass. Sometimes it is left to tangle between his lips, straightening and going orange when he takes a drag, but more often it's resting from extended fingers from a palm pressed against the table beside him.

Nathanial, who usually likes handling these explanations himself, clearly lets Lucifer do the explaining, and... John grins. Because there is no way in Hell (pun intended) this isn't going to be a doozie.

He nods to several parts, but snorts at the prospect that Stephen Strange, any Stephen Strange, did something that was genuinely self-sacrificial regardless of the reasoning. Aside from that noise, he adds little, until he's mentioned as being one of a kind. "Multiverse couldn't handle more of me, mate." Glass up in salutations to Lucifer, "Cheers." Sip. Nod.

"So you this thing-" Pointing off his glass after another drink at the spinning, glowy sphere, "Bollocks, I don't even know what it is and that's saying something, mate.. But it created a bunch of multi dimensional portals that drew undead fuckers from undead lands and you're just leaving it turned on over there? You've done it... you've finally gone west, haven't you?" His grin couldn't be wider.

It's like Christmas for John Constantine right now.

"Fuck me, this is amazing."
Sinister has posed:
"Well," Sinister begins with a kind of spent tone, then shakes his head. "Sod this for a laugh..." up he gets, although it's more with the grace of a well put together old man, than his usual comportment. There's a weird rule about the numbers of things you should have dangling or envogue at any given time. One eyepatch, kind of cool, two eyepatches, looking like an idiot. One cigarette? Cool. Two? Look like an idiot. One is pinched off and set into his ashtray, so he can indulge in just the one for the time being and he walks over toward Wade to give him a thorough scrutiny. And when visual does nothing but tell him what his eyes tell him, he pulls out his cellphone, flicks through a couple of apps and then points the flash/camera at the manager. A couple of flashes and a beep and he wanders off, leaving the cellphone to float and follow him.

"Energy signature should tell us roughly where, ish. The trouble with infinite improbability is all in the damn name. So without knowing a bit more, narrowing that down is going to be a tough nut to crack. It'll be a hot minute."

And off over to look at the shit-eating grin on the face of Constantine. He points at the device. "That's only the battery. It did it without being told to, which I suspect tells us a lot about what it's actually capable of. It functions on awakened causality and taps into string theory. And in magical terms, it's an empowered feather of Uriel the Archangel that's glowing like a guy Fawkes bonfire in there. I was always gone west... you can't do the things I do, without being just a little unnerved in the brainpan."


"But at least I can usually pull it out of my arse and succeed."
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Considering the explanation given, it would be very understandable if Wade were to be a little upset at the situation he was in. Or very confused at the explanation given. VERY UNDERSTANDABLE INDEED.






Okaaaaay. Despite the explanation given, there are no shouts of surprise or despair at the revelation. He's not smiling either. But as he thinks over the explanation, the alternate Wade seems to give a slow nod. "Are you able to even control where to open these portals?"

The musician pauses as Sinister comes up, staring at him for a moment, head turning as he scrutinizes the scrutinizer. As the flashes go off, Wade's eyelids flutter, trying to alleviate the rectangle floating in his vision now.

"...What else is needed?"

Interesting as this might be. There is a point about it being better to be returned sooner, rather than later. He sure as hell can't expect Mike to pick up with the studio management in his absence when the drummer's busy playing hero.
Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer watches as Nathaniel does as a Nathaniel needs to do in order to answer the question of where to send this Wade Shaw back to. He then motions towards Constantine and even himself. "The short answer, is yes. I'm able to control where I transport someone to, and I can even do it between dimensions..." Because if he can take Nathaniel to Hell, and to MojoVerse, then surely he can easily send Wade back to where he belongs.

If he can't, Constantine should be able to easily enough with his multi-dimensional door thing.

"While we're waiting, can I get you anything to eat or drink, Wade?" At least offering that before his attention goes to Constantine. "What Nathaniel said. If you never thought we were a little off west then you don't know us as well as I thougt you did. Also, why are you drinking my vodka when you should have a never-empty flask of something on you? Course, if you -really- want something to knock you on your ass... I have both Asgardian Ale and Heavenly Nectar."
Constantine has posed:
This is just too juicy, is all.

Constantine shakes his head, but can't quite wipe the shit eating grin off his face. Even when both Luci and Nathan confirm, neigh challenge, that they were always a little off west. He takes a drag from the cigarette clutched betwixt his fingers and thens tubs it out in a nearby ashtray. Even finishes the vodka because you don't waste it.

"When you're in the Devil's penthouse, you don't drink swill, mate." Rattling the ice in his glass. "But if you'd top me off with a little of that Asgardian mead, I wont complain a tick." Because he's being called upon to do magics, which is likely why the cab dropped him off in the first place.

Doffing his trenchcoat, one might note that beneath he has shoulder holstered pouches like one might expect of a wizard in the modern age with his sleeves rolling up to his elbows after unclasping the rather nice looking links with brilliant black diamonds in the center of each. Smiling, as charming as an angler Fish, at Wade as he approaches. "What can you tell me about your dimension, lad?" One of the pouches pops open and he retrieves a rolled leather case about the size of seventeenth century lockpicks, only there's a set of varying sized chalks rather than metal rods and probs.

"Who's the President? What year is it... Ah, you know-" Wiggling a point between Nathan and Luci, "A good indicator for how mental a place is?" He asks of Wade then, "Tell me who's on the Billboard Top Ten." Because it's always different. Always.

Side glancing that spinning battery, which, Nathan says contains a feather from Uriel. His hand draws across his stubbled jaw, thoughtful... then back to Wade with his grin curling upwards again.
Sinister has posed:
Sinister finishes off his smoke in a general amble toward Lucifer, leaning himself near the devil and looking over the cellphone as it does its thing. When it makes a noise like a raspberry being blown, he tilts his head and shows the result to the Lord of Hell. "We've got a few markers. Higher solar radiation residue, a few unusual isotopes and the flavour, or so my scanner is telling me, is cinnamon fireball bubblegum. I didn't even KNOW my database contained that." -- This is also for John's benefit of course, though he nods to the Hellblazer and looks aaaaaalmost sympathetically to the manager.

"Apparently, Worry over Nick is something of a common trait." He notes, then asks, because it MIGHT be somehting known. "Do -you- have any idea why your universe emminates cinnamon fireball bubblegum?"
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Wade looks between Constantine and Sinister as they give off some odd questions. When Lucifer offers up an easier to ask question he nods. "...Water, please" He responds. Priorities are clear. Get back to his world first.


With the task in mind Wade focuses upon what questions he remembers from the prompts being thrown his way. "It's 2017. Nick Drago's on the chart three times. 'Farewell to Liam', 'Hello World', and the world merge caused for 'Ragna-rock' to resurge. The merge caused for issues with elected officials so that's a clusterfuck of emergency elections. We're also getting a resurgence of what's being called Demon-Infest and-" The comment about Nick is noted. "Mike has a tendency of vanishing for periods of time and emerging...different or with odd new friends. I'm not sure on the cinnamon fireball bubblegum thing but considering how often things have been on fire or dealing with demons, I'm not really surprised."
Lucifer has posed:
Asgardian Mead for his frenemy and water for the man outside his realm. Lucifer steps twice and then appears in his kitchen from seemingly nowhere after having still been close to Nathaniel.

And he did kiss the cheek of his lover before moving.

"Johnny boy here might be better at getting you to your home than I am. I usually have to see a place before I can properly teleport to it. Trade off of being able to go anywhere I want at the puff of some smoke." Which is his way of saying that it's also just a thing for his Father to caveat most of his abilities. Especially since he's on a perma-vacation from Hell.

"So if that's just the battery, what is it supposed to be going into? Because I thought that -was- the contraption we were going to be using for what we need it for." Asking this towards Nathaniel after drinks are served up and he's meandering back to his throne.
Constantine has posed:
"See, that's good information." Johnny says to Wade's, rather extensive, list of various elements from his realm. Pulling several pieces of chalk from the leather wrapping while looking for a flat surface where he can start drawing markings on the floor. He would have made certain it's okay first, but let's be honest no he wouldn't have.

Each symbol, probably a representation of the pieces of information being fed to him, begin to glow as he whispers something in latin over each. Once all four are lit up, he glances at the wall closest to his art work on the lovely hardwood and begins tracing out salt in a very crudely drawn rectangle that vaguely resembles a door, he ends the pictogram with a golfball sized animal skull. It glows in his palm for a second and then sits against the wall, taking on the appearance of a door knob.

"There's only twenty five realms infested with demon, three of them after 2015... two where the government infrastructure didn't go totally tits up and only one where Nick Drago is top of the charts more than twice." Each thing he mentions, is redrawn at the corners of the doorway. Several of the symbols light up in the same color, fading into others that themselves fade into others until he draws lines through them to others. Those lines change color as theyre connected, creating a kaleidoscope that eventually takes on a single, solid pigment that follows the path along the entire exterior of the doorway.

Several steps back, up beside Lucifer to take the mead, and a drink. Still holding one half nub of chalk in his hand, he points it at the doorway. "This'll either take you home or kill you, but you can't beat fifty fifty odds, yeah?" Sip. Blue eyes looking betwixt all three.
Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer watches Constantine work on getting that dimensional door open and then glances over to Wade. "Before you go. Might I interject a question?" He pauses. "Does your Mike have special powers of any sort? Possibly known as phantasming... or do strange things happen when he sings certain songs?" Suddenly curious about just how similar their Nicks are, really.
Sinister has posed:
"Oh, no, no. This is just the battery. But unrestrained it did all kinds of mayhem, as we're gleefully re-wrapping and tidying up into a messy ball. I had intended to house it in a kind of computer array, or I might construct it as a holoimager room -- it needs an interface where criteria can be inputted, I'm afraid likley it will also require DNA samples for more accuracy, because otherwise it'll still go off on a random, interesting, but probably unhelpful tangent." Sinister leaned into the cheek kiss, folded his arms, with his cognac bottle nestled and watched Lucifer in the kitchen, then Constantine in the lounge. And after they'd just dusted up a Strange, too. There's a soft, almost unheard sigh.

He stares into nowhere, at about the point when Lucifer asks that question and for some reason or another, snort-wheezes into a laugh, which he doesn't seem able to control.

Struggling with his diaphragm and the habric urge, he tries not to grin at the labelled odds on Door death. "Sympathetic magic I at least roughly comrehend, but it's always rather impressive to watch. Good show on our floors. It does brush off, right? Otherwise we're going to be a buffing marble."

He says it, which does actually stop the giggles, because: "And that /wasn't/ meant to be an innuendo."
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Wade takes the offered water, sipping it as Constantine works on figuring out where he belongs to. When Lucifer asks his question, Wade glances over to him. Silence is given back as the answer.


Then, there's a bit of a chuckle, followed by a slightly strained laugh. "...yeah. You could say that. "

The musician glances over to Sinister as he starts laughing, brow raising. "...He apparently was temping for Dr. Strange for a few months. But he's back with the Avengers."

Looking back to the door, he frowns. "Fifty Fifty?"
Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer raises a brow, but then he nods. He's not going to let curiosity get the better of him. No name drops or asking how the powers work. That's cheating.


He does glance up at Constantine and then rolls his eyes. "Must you always toss in odds that don't really exist. You know what. I don't want to know the answer to that question..." Instead, he walks over and holds his hand above the circle, chanting in some ancient language - likely the tongue of Angels - and his eyes flash of hellfire for a moment before the circle glows and then shines bright white.

"There. You should be good now... if anything was going to get pissy and snatch-grabby... they won't now. You should get back before anyone really notices you've straight up disappeared."
Constantine has posed:
"Those are better odds than Marty McFly ever had, mate." Constantine offers, either not following the humor in the question or, likely more accurately, not caring. Weird things happen around him as a general rule. Someone singing some tracks and causing oddities is pretty much par for the course in the world of John Constantine.

Who just wanted to drink off a hangover and ended up.

"Bollocks.." The odds of that... He glances at the battery of this probability machine and narrows his eyes, while fishing out a ciggie from his pocket, light included. One between his lips, head tilted towards the struck flame for a plume of smoke to follow. He squints and leans his head back from the aromatic cloud he's created. Scissoring the silk and beginning the process of putting away his chalk, which gets rewrapped and slipped into the pouch from wince it came.

Luci's question almost distracts Constantine, who was headed over towards Shaw. He glances at the Devil, tilts his head, and smirks with the cigarette dangling from his lips, "It adds an air of mystery to the whole thing, mate." Clapping a hand on Shaw's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Don't worry, lad, it's sound as a pound." ushering him towards the door while Angelic words are being spoken near the conduit.

John, however, isn't giving Shaw a chance to think too hard on the odds, "Come on, just take a look, you'll see it's all on the up." The skull handle twists, the doorway opens, and regardless of what's visible on the otherside? He's being shoved through it, "Go on, now, head home before the street lights come on and we've a whole dimensional crisis to sort out? That'll bring Strange sniffin' around and I'm pretty well certain he's still pissed at me."

Which is definitely why they'll never be seen in the same room or whatever.

Don't look at me like that.

A long drag, kicking the temporal door closed with a backwards flick of his heel.

Did he get home?

Another drag, John going for his coat.

Did he die?

He dons it with a flare and swish of the sleeves tossed across his back.

A final drag and he stabs the ciggie out in the ashtray beside the first so he can straighten his collar and roll his neck to make sure it's sitting nice and comfortably. "Strong work, lads, now I'm going to go get proper bevvied before the fun police show up, innit?"