15693/Of Devil's Clubs and Angel's Feathers

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Of Devil's Clubs and Angel's Feathers
Date of Scene: 08 October 2023
Location: Club Lux, Melville
Synopsis: An interesting night at Lux features Doctor Fate confronting Lucifer about a feather. They're joined by Sinister and Nick Drago who help Lucifer defend the decisions made.
Cast of Characters: Lucifer, Sinister, Phantasm (Drago), Doctor Fate

Lucifer has posed:
Early evening at Lux means that the doors only recently opened and the usual crowd hasn't completely filled the place up just yet. There's music from the club's favored DJ, the dance floor is flshing, drinks are slowly pouring and dancers are in their cages to provide hours of eyefilling entertainment.

Within his usual perch is the man, the myth, the legend himself - Lucifer Morningstar. Sipping on his whiskey, watching things as they come to life. Dressed immaculately in a three piece suit of charcoal gray with a salmon undershirt and salmon handkerchied tucked neatly in his left breast pocket. His perch allows him a vantage point of both the top floor - where his perch is - and the lower floor where most the booths and the dance floor are. This is where he will remain unless or until his attention is otherwise needed or taken.
Sinister has posed:
Yesterday, Sin had an appointment to keep and was absent a good deal of the night and into the morning. When he returned, he immediately went into the lab after a greeting and brief unwind, to revise issues. And more issues. And issues on top of his issues. AN entire ISSUE box, even.

That's not such a bad thing, it kept his mind occupied and he did emerge a few times to get a cup of tea or pace about the place.

Tonight, he is eye candy. He looks like himself, but youthful, clean shaven, dressed like he belongs in this club. But he's brooding in his shapeshifted perfections, watching people, watching movement and generally watching humanity go about their merry with zero clue of all that goes on behind the scenes.

He has a sketchbook in hand, up by the bar closest to the vantage perch of the Lucifer, he is cleaning up lines endlessly with a 'pencil' erasor, not even truly looking at what he has drawn.

Clean, fuss, clean. Stare. Clean.
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Up on the club top in the moonlit sky,
materializes a raven in flight.
Down to the ally the bird doth swoop.
Flipping and shifting into a human stooped.

Standing up Nick glances around, confirming his general assessment from above that the alley was empty. Once he's certain, he brings a hand back to untuck the ponytail from the jacket. Now quasi presentable, the performer makes his way out to the sidewalk. with a turn or two, he ends up at the front door where he's allowed in immediately. It would be nice to say it was because the ones watching the door knew him but, early hours...there really wasn't a line to wait in.

Once inside, Nick ends up gravitating to his tried and true placement when he's not the one scheduled to be on stage.

That's right.

The bar.

Unlike when he got picked up from the airport with little warning, Nick had time to dress a bit better this time around. Proper slacks, a dress shirt. And while there's still no tie, the black jacket is paired nicely with the shirt.

Behold the power of time to plan.

Considering the previous night's discussion, Nick did take a less traditional route to get here from New York. Which may have led to him getting here quicker than traditional means but slower than what he was expecting.

Spotting Sinister at the bar, Nick walks over, glancing curiously to the sketchbook. "Work or pleasure?" He inquires of the drawing at hand.
Doctor Fate has posed:
Sinister and Nick Drago will both experience a familiar feeling...

Fate's touches.

Club Lux is the home of the Devil himself. It's wards and defenses impressive, perhaps near-imprenetrable. But Lucifer is not the only divine creature in this realm. In any realm. Club Lux will have a visitor this day. Similarly to his presence at the Hellfire Club, a powerful surge of magic increases drastically upon the point of the door. Lucifer will likely sense it first.

Bold to enter a Devil's domain. A fallen Archangel's domain at that.

And yet, in walks not a man in golden armor, but instead a man in a fine three-piece suit. His hair carefully done. His eyes piercing in color and hue and far better messenger than Nabu himself.

Kent Nelson: the host of Doctor Fate and powerful sorceror in his own right. Yet, as he walks, he seems to make a straight path for the Master of the House himself, clasping his cane in his hand and setting it in front of himself. "Lucifer Morningstar. We have something of import to discuss, if you don't mind."

No doubt Nick would've noticed him, no doubt Sinister would've sensed him.
Lucifer has posed:
Normally, Lucifer does not take kindly to his space being invaded without warning or permission. Yet somehow, at the very inkling of the rising magical presence in his club, he knew it was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not. So, for now, he forgives it in his mind - especially after the spectacle Nathaniel made of himself once he came home from whatever errand or several he was running yesterday.

All roads lead to this in the end.

"Doctor Nelson. What a pleasure it is to receive your company." He says, giving the man a side eye for a brief moment before turning to face him fully and properly. Lifting his glass of whiskey to finish it off and sets it on the tray of a waitress who just happens to be passing by at that particular moment.

Coincidental at best, surely.

"Of course. You can follow me to the VIP section just up and over here...can I get you anything from the bar to drink?" Asking this as he motions and turns, though his gaze will shift behind the Doctor to catch Nathaniel's own at the bar and perhaps Nick's too.
Sinister has posed:
Sinister's focus drew back from the personage he was almost staring at at the approach of the rockstar. There IS a small smile, but it's mostly taken a vacation off to sunnier Sins and can't really muster the energy to be full-on. "Work, except that it's not working. I need something that I've not currently got: the ability not to second guess myself." Calling the barman over, a guiness is set down and a Hurricane. His attention settles fleetingly on Lucifer with a subtle 'mwah' as he collects himself.

"I can't get going on something I can't decide the beginning of. I need a second pair of scientific eyes and I don't want to outsource to... well..." he taps his chest there.

But then, there's that feeling, the familiarity that should come with golden ankhs but instead comes with a dapper suit. He looked toward the entrance before the man arrived, then silently watches Nelson as he ascends, makes a bee-line straight for the devil and engages. This brings with it a stare, a browloft, a look to Nick and back to the pairing and... up to the VIP.

And back. There's a fetching look of mild incredulity solidifying on the doctor's face as he rises from the bar, looks Nick in the eye, looks back to Lucifer and nods. He is going to follow, whether he was invited or not, by half that equasion. The other half's a given.
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
For the narrative let it be known that it is a good thing Nick has met Kent before. His ability to sense others from a general FEEL of energy is sorely lacking. Some may consider it a flaw of a Phantasm, but it has on occasion proven to be a strength. While others are reeling from the wall of power, they're already yep yepping into potential danger. It's probably not good for the blood pressure of those around him, but he's met a lot of interesting people that way.

Case in point, one Kent Nelson, who he has yet to actually associate with the Dr. Fate that showed up the night prior.

Nick glances to Sinister and then to the sketchbook. "Well, if you're at the point of second guessing, that's probably a hint that you need to take a break away from the task to regroup. Come back with a clearer head."

It helps a lot with writer's block or when he's trying to do sketch work as well. Although there is the risk something won't get completed. Just ask that one pissy angel who didn't like being THIRD.

Both in part wondering what Lucifer's up to and getting a general sense of being looked at, Nick's head turns. Seeing the pointed glance, a brow lifts. Seeing the man Lucifer is with, a brow lifts anymore. Oh! It's the doctor he met a couple times. Last time he forgot the name and he had to ask a second time. Multiple doctorates...

Now what was that name?


Too long.


Too short.

... Oh! Kent Nelson.

Oh good. He doesn't have to ask again.

"Well...If it's any help the guy Lucifer is talking to, Kent Nelson, apparently has multiple doctorates. Maybe one of them will help in this case?"

They couldn't all be medical, right?

Nick glances back, seeing the expression on Sinister's face. He glances back to where the pair are heading. "Should we move to the VIP lounge?" He asks.
Doctor Fate has posed:
"Pleasure's mine to receive it."

Kent seems confident, or at the very least, believes himself not in too much danger, or trusts Lucifer not to cause issues in his own estate. Nonetheless, Dr. Nelson follows Lucifer through the VIP section. "May I have a scotch? Whatever you might have, I'm not quite picky." He smiles at the man-in-the-image-of-Satan, and instead proceeds, the occasional tapping of his cane on the floor echoing beneath the sound of music.

"I suspect your allies will be joining us? They will be required."

As if a whisper on the wind, as soon as Nick Drago says his name, he turns his eyes to look at him before he's out of sight, shooting the fellow a friendly wink.
Lucifer has posed:
"Of course." Lucifer agrees upon the request and will ensure that the finest top shelf scotch he has is whats served to his guest. Of course, he'll also be on the receiving end of another whiskey, and both Nathaniel and Nick's drinks are also covered.

That goes almost without saying, however.

"I do think they will be. I am never too far from Nathaniel when we're both here and Nick is not only an ally and more like family." Comes his reply to the question as he sits down in the middle booth table that has both a comfy booth seat against the wall and regular chairs on the other side.

"So, should I go ahead and inquire as to what I owe the presence of your company with or will we wait for said allies to join?"
Sinister has posed:
The sketchbook is closed, tucked under his arm and the pencil and pencil eraser are slipped into his inside jacket pocket.

"Yes. Lets." Sinister gives Nick one long look. "Kent Nelson, multiple doctorates, also a presence I felt last night. Just so as you are on the same page..." he murmurs that, then trots up the stairs leaping them two at a time, reaching the apex and thereafter sticking both hands in his jeans and stalking over like a moody teenager, to slide into the seat next to Lucifer with a shake of the head and a shimmering shift of visage. Youth is gone, maturity returns along with goatee. His eyes are grey though and he appears human.

Extricating one hand, he slips his arm around the back of the booth, behind Lucifer.

The guiness and hurricane made it up here in one piece, miracle of miracles.

"I have a funny feeling this is going to be quite good." The comment is made, the smile finds his face but it doesn't quite reach the steel of his gaze.
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
While there may have been protest at first, Nick has long since accepted the fact that his money is no good here. So, beyond the first drink that is usually free to all guests, the musician doesn't often request seconds. That's not to say he won't accept them if they're already handed off to him, but he's not pushing for them.

As Sinister agrees to the destination, Nick moves off of the seat he barely had time to warm. He turns to collect the drink set before him. Because- waste not want not, but the action pauses as Sinister reveals what he knows of the man. Nick looks to Sin. "I KNEW I recognized one of the voices." He comments, glancing back over to the doctor to see-

..Did he just wink at him?

Well, guess that can be taken as a double confirmation.

Turning to grab the beer only to find it no longer there, The musician blinks and ends up following after Sinister. No longer ladden down Nick is free to move up the stairs as quickly as he wants. No worries of potential party fouls or the ethical debate about using phantasm powers on a glass of beer.

Despite that, Nick doesn't quite do the two steps at a time bit. He highly doubts Kent would come here without the helmet to go stirring up any physical altercations. Doctors are supposed to be smarter than that. He takes the steps up one at a time and by consequence is the last one up. And the last one to claim a seat. Which apparently is on the side of the visiting doctor. No surprise being that Lucifer and Sinister are an item.

"Evening, Dr. Nelson." Nick greets, taking up the last chair.
Doctor Fate has posed:
"Good, good. They will be necessary for what is to be discussed."

Kent smiles faintly at the Devil, as if he was looking at the guardian of Hell in the eyes - which he was - and treating him like some old friend. "It is good to have those close to you. I recall a time when that was true for me." He reveals something about himself in return, a particular kind of loneliness. Though when you know /exactly/ how those close to you will meet their end, their final fate? It makes you want to avoid them, as if to protect them.

If only that changed anything.

"Oh yes. I'm sure your family will overhear sooner or later. I come to discuss the feather."

He turns his eyes then to SInister. "Dr. Essex. A pleasure to see you again so soon. I hope it will be a pleasant conversation as well." An almost mocking butchery of his intention, but Kent seems to be more playful in the act rather than intentionally insulting. He turns his attention to Nick when he arrives. "Good evening, Phantasm. Or do you prefer your name? I would like to return the same politness to you as you have given to me."

He looks to address them all, not quite taking his seat. "I've come as my mortal guise instead of the gestalt form I've grown accustomed. Mostly because Fate - despite his intentions - is rude."

He seems to chuckle softly. "But, the Feather of the Archangel. What is your exact intent? The act of which made reality...wary, as it were."
Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer listens, intently, finding that Kent is keeping his eyes on Lucifer's own - which actually intrigues the Devil if he's being honest. (Course, he never tells a lie, so there you go.)

People are greeted, and a scantily clad waitress of slender figure but just-too-large breasts flutters past to drop off a scotch to the visiting doctor and a whiskey to the Devil. The Devil, himself, lifts the whiskey as Kent speaks briefly to the others, slaking the thirst he never truly has with a swallow or two of the liquid gold that never actually burns him on the way down.

Finally, there's the inquiry about the feather. The Feather of the Archangel. Lucifer knows just which feather the Doctor is referring to, but the desire to make a slight mockery of the question is surely there. "Well. The intention is not mine. It's my partner's." He offers and inclines his head towards Nathaniel. "Doctor Essex and myself have been intimately and intricately tracking what is known as the Apophis Meteor, set to come back into our plane of existence and - respectively speaking - our galaxy. It is also, at that time, aiming directly at Earth." He continues, and then sips on his whiskey again.

"To avoid boring you to death we're using the Feather of Uriel to power a machine and help us determine which of the several choices we have to make will impact the fewest and be the safest for all involved. We're saving humanity. One feather at a time."
Sinister has posed:
Sinister isn't quite discombobulated. His look of incredulity has moderated itself into not quite a glare, but definitely on the penetrating regard end of non-plussed. He doesn't even say a word, which is saying something, when the address is aimed once again at Lucifer, merely does a Jack Sparrow flex and curl of the fingers around the devil's shoulder on the opposite side, one. At. A. Time.

Eventually though, with the abbreviated version of why -- "I know, shocking to think isn't it? Trying to save the world, one screw, nut, bolt and invention at a time. Really, the feather was a little more powerful than I was anticipating it being, whilst attempting the capacitors. That's why the energy got a bit unstable, but it did restore afterwards. We do not have a transparent omni-reality tower of Lux, after all. We would have noticed."
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick gives Kent a look. Does it LOOK like he's using his powers right now? Seriously the past times it's been his name so why-

Well there was last night.

That was with him under a different guise. Doesn't count!

Nick's jaw clenches for a moment glancing down for a second. "My name, please." He answers, reaching over for the beer that has been set upon the table.

He doesn't have much to offer to the conversation being that he was in Europe during the time. Well, most of it. Save for when he was portaled here for an awkward family reunion of sorts. (Is it really a reunion if you never met them before?) and a spell request.
Doctor Fate has posed:
A scantily-clad waitress is bringing him his scotch and Kent finds that he doesn't even look at the assets, he simply accepts his scotch and returns his attention to the group. "Thank you." and he takes a slow, light sip of it. "Hmm...not bad at all. I feel like it's been far too long since I've had a glass. The flavor is quite smooth. Do you make your own or did you pay for such a thing?" Kent's focus mildly breaking if but to accept the tasty treat he's been given.

A connoiseur of sorts.

"Ah yes, the Apophis Meteor. An exctinction-level event. Dangerous. Though one day I would like the full story, the Feathers of Archangels are dangerous, as you are fully aware, and even with their guidance in addition to his science-" he gestures to Sinister. "It may not give you the answer that you seek...or it may. Either way..." He turns his eyes to Sinister in question.

"It holds quite a bit more power than a machine may be able to contain. The energy is unstable, and it will be difficult to contain. Havea you considered...unorthodox methods?" He chuckles. "Even those with a propensity for evil have the ability to do good, regardless of their reasons for doing so." He smiles at Sinister for a moment, completely calm despite the snark.

He turns his attention to Nick Drago. "Very well, Mr. Drago." He looks at him for a moment, as if considering something, before he returns his eyes to Lucifer. "I recommend against using too many feathers. Though I'm certain you will try anyway."
Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer takes a slow breath in and out, then drinks a bit more of his whiskey, before setting down the glass and clearing his throat.

"Doctor Nelson. Have you considered all of your words carefully before coming here, to my domain, among my family and loved ones... and insinuating certain things? /I/ am an Archangel... and I shall have you know my feathers are not dangerous. Quite the opposite in fact... and while I use them sparringly... I still use them. My brethren would not offer up such things on a whim. We know the power we carry, and we only offer it to those we believe either deserve or are worthy of it. In fact, it was Nathaniel who called upon Uriel, and Uriel answered the call. It was Nathaniel who asked the Archangel for one of his feathers and he agreed. So before you come in here and insult both my families of blood and bond, be certain you know just who you might be offending when those words leave your tongue."

No. The Devil is not pulling punches now. Nathaniel is annoyed, the other Doctor is giving them warnings without knowing whole specifics. Assumptions, as much as they seem to help, only boil down to one resolution. Making an ass out of oneself.

"And yes. We have considered alternative methods. Both unorthodox and orthodox. We have several allies on our side to help us ascertain the best resolution whether it's garnered by the device Doctor Essex is working to empower, or if the Sorcerer Supreme has to have a say, or even if I have to call upon John Constantine to wiggle me a door to the alternate realm where the meteor currently resides. We've researched, we've persued, we've calculated, visited, tested and tried every possible method. This is where we stand now." He finishes his speech, and then he finishes his whiskey, and his eyes - which flash with hellfire at least once - stay steady on Doctor Fate.

"Now. Has that satisfied your sweet yet tragically codescending line of questioning?"
Sinister has posed:
Sinister turns his head to stare at Lucifer's profile where he sits beside the Devil. All through the tongue getting more wicked and ascerbic, whilst being entirely calm in tone -- his expression gets gradually more round eyed and with a hesitant half-smile getting itself attached on one side of his face. By the time he's done, there's a look that is flat out love on the face of Nathaniel Essex.

It's not often actually -seen-. Hells, that might be the first time anyone other than Lucifer himself has EVER seen that look before.

His hand squeezes the archangel's shoulder as he looks back to Fate.

"Correction: It was unstable, mostly because it was perfectly awakened and doing its thing. It is now stable, as the world can attest to. But yes, the potential is monstrously huge, for things to go tits up and us arse over tea-kettle. But as they say: Evil wins when good people do nothing."

He shrugs then. "And I may be less than pure and arguably on the blacker side of the cosmic scale, but I am -exceptionally- intelligent. I double check, triple check and..." he inhales "...Lucifer is correct. Uriel himself gave me his feather, answered MY call, saw that it was a true intent, knew what he was doing and didn't just give me one. He gave me -four-. And you, good sir, have backhanded an insult as a compliment and have implied terrible consequences without -actually- being helpful. So, if you want to warn of dire things, do me a good, solid, reputable favour as a clever man yourself and pull your finger out to -help-."
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
To the Doctor following up on the choice, he gives a slight nod. "Thank you." He briefly responds, acknowledging the correction before he sips more on the beer. More or less occupying his mouth before it says something regrettable.

Not that he would buuuut-

Ok yes he would. Even before the- added effects and drawbacks, he did lose a bit of self restraint when he got shipped to New York. Something of necessity at the time. And he's gotten a bit better with it after getting some help. Granted he's still thinking it but for the most part if he's not tired he c-


The explanations given by Lucifer seem like they should be enough to explain the interest in the feather. But with the added caution, Nick eyes narrow as he looks over to Dr. Kent. Okay, maybe the warning is a professional courtousy but the jab last sentence was uncalled for.


As Lucifer speaks up, calling out Kent for the asshattery, Nick looks over to him. There's the slightest uptilt to the side of the lip visible to Kent.

Damn straight! You tell him, Lucifer!

More beer is sipped but a bit more contentedly.
Doctor Fate has posed:
It's a long wait, but Kent Nelson waits patiently.

It's a truly brutal diatribe, born mostly out of miscommunication on Fate's side and on theirs. Yet, even still, Kent occasionally sips at his politely-given scotch and seems to hold a calm demeanor. Few have seen Lucifer lack any kind of pulled punch mechanism, and Kent seems to take it in stride. Either because he's fully willing to take this 'beating' or because he's willing to listen.

The same is true for Sinister, especially as he informs him of his intelligence, work ethic, and accountability. The two-factor approval now of Uriel's willingness to lend them his feathers seems to make Kent nod ever so softly, as if that was what he was waiting for. Can you blame him for not trusting the Devil? Most don't, at least until they get to know him. Then again...

That's another story in and of itself.

He waits for Sinister to finish his side as well, before he turns his eyes to look upon Nick Drago, either taking notice of his impressive restraint or acknowledging that Nick has things to say, but won't.

Only when it has been made clear that parties has said their piece, does Kent begin.

"Truthfully, I have. Unfortunately, the stakes are much too dire to trust on instinct alone, nor to be able to assume in confidence that you three had things as in hand as confidence can believe. Confidence can be foolish. Overconfidence is death. Despite the tension and temperment-" He finishes his scotch and sets it aside. "Delicious scotch, thank you." He resumes. "Your efforts in the present are noted and noble. Despite your...pasts. That hasn't been in question-" though it implies in the future it may not be so. Everything is in flux. He looks between Lucifer and Sinister, as if that answered both of their disputes simultaneously. It didn't. "And no insult is meant, though you may assume as such in your own home. I propose caution. While Dr. Essex - or Sinister, as I understand he is so often called - is a man of extreme intellect, too much power even in the hands of a most sophisticated system can lead to results of great extremes, for better or for worse. I preach caution, not distrust. Too much power - even when granted by a being of great wisdom and justness - may cause the immediate problem to be fixed, yes...but the remaining embers may awaken far...worse. Even things destiny itself cannot foresee. Though it is acceptable you believe my nature condescending. I'm told many of my kind are. I suppose therapy would help." a minor joke.

He turns to Sinister then. "Terrible consequences await in the event of failure, yes. Perhaps even in success, should all attempts to minimize the damage fail, even with foresight in mind. The future is never truly set. All conditions may be met...as well as none of them. I am helping, you see. Just in ways you have yet to realize. The Lords of Order limit me /greatly/ in this matter and therefore, am tending to this in more...subtle, methods, as I believe Nabu had discussed with you far more...rudely, the other night. Though as usual, the law of Order requires me to choose my words far more carefully. The Lords are ever watchful. The future ever in motion. But for now, I will trust Uriel's judgment. He was always among the wisest of you."

He turns his attention to Nick then for a brief moment. "I respect your restraint." He confers to him, before he returns his gaze to Lucifer. "Far more than you realize, Lucifer Morningstar." Of whom he dares offend. "And yet, *all* variables must be confronted. This conversation, for instance, is vital to the coming days, for better or worse, depending on the threads ever so dangerously woven. And even in that, I speak too much."

He returns to Lucifer. "To answer your question, I am satisfied with these results. Forgive my intrusion...those whom I represent are...*thorough*."

He begins to rise and he places his cane in front of him. "Thank you for your hospitality. This is a marvelous club, you have done well for yourself in your time, Lucifer. For the events I
Doctor Fate has posed:
He begins to rise and he places his cane in front of him. "Thank you for your hospitality. This is a marvelous club, you have done well for yourself in your time, Lucifer. For the events I am able to interfere, I hope to assist as I can. For the variables I am not...I truly hope the odds remain in your favor."

And with that, Kent Nelson seems to look upon the trio. "With your leave?" Permission to exit the premesis.
Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer listens, briefly feels like an asshole, and then offers a kind smile. He had things to say, and he said them, and he meant them. Perhaps he could have delivered it a bit better, but sometimes in the heat of moments, the Devil's Tongue is a bit too loose.

But the look he gained from Sinister. In the *presence* of *people* , even *strangers*... makes being a complete asshole worth every moment spent as such.

"I do understand where you are coming from, Doctor Kent. And perhaps I took some things a bit too tongue in cheek. You have my apologies. It does seem, after this back and forth, that we - the four of us - are all on the same side of things. Perhaps not the same page, but that likely will come in time."

The Devil stands then and offers a hand to the man who is seeming ready to take his leave. "I appreciate you coming in, and you have an open invitation to return and continue drinking on that bottle of scotch whenever you wish. No hard feelings, I trust?" A smile then. Genuine.
Sinister has posed:
Sinister exhales the breath he hadn't known he had held the last of.

And to follow through with the humanity he put on display not that long ago, he rubs at his face and jaw, expelling the tension by vigor and vim.

You know, because sometimes, when predators and such in the wild circle one another, there IS a fight. It's always nice when large, powerful entities do the circle dance and DON'T engage.

Takes the edge off.

He rises also, a measure behind Lucifer and inclines his head to Fate. He doesn't exactly say anything though, the words for now are all spent and his mind is still a'buzz with the cool-off of indignation and circular planning engagement and design. It will out, eventually!

And his hand that was behind on the apolstery, has moved to the middle of Lucifer's back, where the brilliant white wings hide, to gently rub. Gestures you see, speak a thousand times louder than words.
Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Nick continues his quiet observance of the exchange between the elder men. While he may have had things he wanted to say the stalling tactic of drinking gave him sufficient time to determine that they weren't helpful at all to the situation. So all in all his contribution was to not add fuel to the fire and to silently cheer the others on as they worked things out.

It seems like a good plan except where Kent's pointing out his restraint.

Oh good lord.

Is everyone a mind reader?

Well fuck it. If they're picking up on his thoughts that's on them if they don't like what they get.

Nick gives a slight nod to acknowledge the comment, confirming that he was indeed holding back should the doctor's statement been based off an educated guess.

"Have a good evening, Doctor Nelson." Nick offers up, confirming that he does indeed still remember how to talk.
Doctor Fate has posed:
It's going around. Often times Kent feels the bearer of bad news or everyone's favorite person to hate. He understands, of course, as much as anyone who didn't go through a situation and see from the outside in can understand. "And you have my apologies as well. I understand I lack a certain...charm, but we are on the same side. at the very least, in this matter, of that I can assure you. Soon, when it is time, the page indeed." Yet, the hand offered, the hand accepted with a shake.

"None at all." hard feelings. If only all tensions could be solved as such. "And you honor me with kindness. I will be certain to continue it, quite the brand I'd say." He returns the smile, genuine in its nature. He returns the bow of the head to Sinister. Nothing needs spoken, a silent understanding made.

A mind reader? Oh, Kent is a psionic of the highest order by the Helm. He's just a proper gent who can read body language better than most people read a book. "And yourself, Mr. Drago."

He smiles at the trio and he begins to turn on his heel then. "Goodbye for now, my friends." And he begins to make his way out through the way he has come.