16073/Of Food and Frustrations

Of Food and Frustrations
Date of Scene:	21 February 2024
Location:	Club Lux, Melville
Synopsis:	Nathaniel vents about Leo. Small talk about the device. With a Raphael. A flask is found and then the Doctor and Archangel butt heads.
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Sinister, Phantasm (Drago)

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Lucifer has posed:
Since Winter decided to rear back her head, as if post argument, suddenly remembering something and be all 'and another thing!' coating the city of New York in a fresh batch of cold air, ice and snow...Lucifer's been busy. He and Nathaniel do not need to eat. In his entire existence, Lucifer has likely had more meals since coming to Earth and settling down than he has in any other millenia passed. However, Nathaniel has had shares of meals in his own lifetime and Lucifer tries hard to give Nathaniel fond memories by recreating meals either he knows the man has enjoyed, or something close to what he might have eaten in his past.

Tonight is no different. The counter is covered with a few bowls, chopping boards, and flour. There's a scent of beef and beetroot in the air, along with various vegetables, including potatoes and parsnip. Lucifer is following a recipe - sort of. At least for the stew which is simmering away on the stovetop. It said to serve it with mashed potatoes, but he knows Nathaniel is a fan of mashed parsnip as well... so why not combine the two?

He checks on the stew, giving it a stir, and then nods his head as it seems to be almost done cooking. Time to begin cleaning up his mess and then everything should be ready to serve.

Sinister has posed:
Festering isn't something that's good for the soul. Or the mental state. Or anything really. To fester at all, is deemed a rather bad thing medically speaking! Dictionary definition and all that jazz.

So, Sinister isn't. Much. That is to say, he vented and what he said, he meant and what he meant, he has acted upon, as he's ever been a man whose actions speak a thousand times louder than words. And he's verbose at that -- one can only wonder if passion, action and vocality collided.

He returns from distant climes with a manifestation of purple spiral energy and looks about himself, as if to just make sure that he's in the right place. A sniff and he turns attention to the kitchen, poised, positioned and statue still. A glance aside, as if looking at yesterday and glaring it down, then he looks back and begins in that direction. "I smell a winter warmer on the hob, a thing I've never smelled here before. You shall be quite the conniseur of British culinary stylings soon."

Lucifer has posed:
"Which is, in essence, entirely your fault. Seeing as how you're British and I am... otherworldly. I suppose if we wanted, I could learn other culinary treats that might interest us. But for times like this, when winter decides she's not quite done with us, hearty British stews seem to be what lands on the menu." Lucifer states this as he finishes wiping down the counter before glancing up and over at Nathaniel. "This one is beef and beetroot stew. It has a lovely wine color to it, likely thanks to the beetroot, and is simple enough to put together, just takes hours of simmering on the stove before it's ready. But I began it a couple hours ago so it should be just done. It will be served with seasonal vegetables and a parsnip potato mash."

In fact, Lucifer turns to gather two slightly deeper rimmed plates and sets them on the counter now clean, serving up some of the mash and vegetables before finally ladling some of the stew on and then serves that up to his beloved. "Been up to anything interesting lately? I didn't see you come to the club last night so I figured you were out conducting some business of your own or... taking a night off as you sometimes do." A pause. "Speaking of, we should probably do a round of checking in on all our properties soon... especially the ones we bought up over in Ireland. If I remember...one of us was having a few renovations or some such done, yes?"

Sinister has posed:
"I tend to agree. England and in fact, most of scandinavia, as long as you ignore the fermented fish offerings... tend to be a rather hearty winter go-to," it's an absent comment as Sin looks at the plates, lost in a memory. .oO(BLOOOOOOOOOD! A blood dish, full of blood, staining everything red!)Oo. He shakes out of it with a little shiver of shoulders, smiles and settles onto the stool, letting the offering cool to the appropriate temperature whilst a glass of red wine is fetched and left to breathe, crystal glasses floating over and cork coming out by sheer force of telekinetic will.

"I had some business in the Bronx. An inhuman ..../dreg/. It was taken care of and certain material possessions returned to the hands of a couple of my agents."

Look. Lucifer has Demons and a million favours. Sinister has agents. Some of them are clones of clones, some are people that owe him. Honourbound individuals. Employees of both parties don't really count.

"I ran into Leo. Or rather, happenstance is a fine substitute for intent."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer lofts a singular brow upwards and then tilts his head while he scoops up some of the mash onto a fork and takes a bite. "Am I to take that as you really did run into him on accident, or is the interpretation supposed to be that you knew he would be at this place one way or the other?" Asking this in no accusatory way. He doesn't have issue with either situation - and the lack of happenstance would be a bit humorous to him. "At least your business in the Bronx seems to have been taken care of."

He seems to think on some things for a moment before he finally decides to poke the bear a bit. "So. You and Leo. In the same place, that isn't Lux and I'm not around..." A pause for affect perhaps. "How long did it take before shit hit the perverbial fan?"

Sinister has posed:
"I assure you, I had no idea he would be there. I can't feel his mind, except as a glaring hole and in the miasma of New York, that didn't strike my awareness until he was rounding the corner, stepping in and greeting the barman." Sinister says that with a sigh, considering the meal with thought. Eventually, a bit of beef and mash is perched on the back of his fork tines and tasted, the sauce quite tart and sweet at the same time. A treat.

There's a glance up though, beneath brows. A challenge? No, not so much that as rising to it, because he was called out. "No shit hit any fan. We didn't raise fists, or voices. But I did not hold back on my thoughts -- nor did he. We despise one another, my love. In no small part from my perspective, because I loath someone who does not step up and own what he's done. At least not where certain fellows are concerned. It drives me to distraction."

Lucifer has posed:
"And yet he's going to keep coming around because we've taken an interest in his nephew with greater depth than he seems to be comfortable with. Along with the fact that Nick has thrived in may ways since being taken under our friendship. I'm sure that twists his balls in ways no man should ever have to experience." Lucifer comments this before taking up another bite of his own food, giving it a thought. "The cinnamon really does add a certain bittersweet tone to it as well..." All of this nonchalant chatter means that Lucifer likely has no emotional investment.

Until.

"I don't really like him either, but, I haven't the experience that you have with him. I've seen it...in visual memories that have been shared...but that's not the same as experiencing it first had. So, what to do. Do I revoke my previous offering and ban him from the club? Only that may hurt things in the end because, despite the feelings you two have for each other, I do feel that sometime in the near future he will have to be around to aid Nick when those Phantasm powers come full force. If they ever do. Once upon a time Leo did express to me that he's still judging if Nick is -ready- and -worthy- of such things..." Which is baffling to say the least. Wine glass lifted, swirled, he takes a long sip of the liquid within. "Do you feel better now, having been able to air out your true feelings?"

Sinister has posed:
Maybe that's a little bit of a surprise, as Sinister arches an eyebrow at the confession. "Cinnamon has some hidden benefits, yes. It's an odd note, much like nutmeg. The mash could've done with a bit of nutmeg..." Several mouthfuls go by, enjoying the flavours and the memories brought with it. BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!! -- but after a whole half of the plate, he sets his fork and knife at an angle, one on either side of the plate. Not finished, but indicating a rest for now as he reaches for his wine. The claret is swirled, sniffed, sipped and he settles back in an oddly poised slump.

"Not really. But there's no pretense, at least. Revocation isn't wholely necessary -- I feel, though he carries with him a kind of purpose built arrogance," ahahhaa, says the doctor "...I'm not sure he's a genuine threat. I don't even know if he would've been back then, either." Another sip of wine, a scratch of his thumb across his chin, along the groove beneath his bottom lip.

Sin sighs. "I don't even really much remember him from then, either. Just... a guard dead, one look and gone. But first impressions, they make a powerful impact and I doubt I am going to forget in a hurry, the fact he practically spat nails with his oath in gaelic. Moreover, I'm not accustomed to such vitriole from someone that I honestly /barely/ earned it from."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer watches as Nathaniel cleans off half his plate before using his silverware to indicate a respite from eating is needed. The wine is sipped, notes about flavors to add to the mash are given and received. Then Nathaniel speaks, and Lucifer does what he always does best. He listens, takes in, makes small notes in his mind. His head tilts one way and then the other.

After a moment, and a slow breath, the Devil moves one of the empty stools over to his side of the counter so he can rest himself a bit. "What was your first impression of the Devil?" He asks. "Not me, flesh and blood, the moment you walked into Lux. But of what you had read, and studied, and been lead to believe when you were growing up."

Sinister has posed:
"You're playing your own advocate," Sinister observes, waggling a finger at the archangel, side to side. But there's a wry halfsmile with it and a gaze /through/ Lucifer to the other side. Memory is a funny thing, requires telescopic insight sometimes.

"I believed the devil to be in the fundamental sense, an allegory for how to piss off authority. A cautionary tale. Even when I was a child, I didn't really believe the good book's accounts. But then, I also didn't believe in fairies, or gods, or anything but the fundamentals and the feels. I did believe in ghosts, but those were somewhat... in the culture at the time. Parapsychical investigations were all the rage." Sin sniffs, muses with his lips pressed. Another sip is taken.

"And then when I studied theology as a means of doctrine and control, in later years, I could see all the borrowed mythos and what got sublimed, regarding the ability to escape culpability. The necessity to have someone to pin things on, to be the scapegoat. To be the reason why you just happen to be a very bad kind of individual, because moral authority or deciding something on your own merit, was far too hard to reckon with."

Lucifer has posed:
"I'm using the only real example I have. If that means I need to be my own advocate...then I do that all the time anyway. You've seen how people have treated me, the very idea of me being -that- me...the mockery, the disdain, the vile hatred. My point is. First impressions are the truest idea you might get of a person...the first time you meet them. They do not, however, have to be the only way you perceive them throughout time. I'm also not saying that Leo doesn't deserve the first impression you have of him, and if he were standing right here I would tell him the same exact thing. Only, you admit to who you were and who you are because you feel you have no reason to hide from it. Nor should you." Lucifer says all this and then gives a shrug. "Perhaps all I am saying is that you both deserve a second impression of each other based on the now, and not the then. But, it is merely a suggestion. Whether you deem it a worhty cause or not is entirely up to you."

A pause and a grin.

"You're going to hell either way so it's really of little matter isn't it?" Then he chuckles. "My dislike of Leo is solely based on the threat and cold shoulder he gave when seeing you in that bar in Ireland. He didn't have to do anything. He didn't even have to acknowledge you. But he did. And I didn't like it. So I dilike him by proxy. He hasn't even so much as apologized for that moment."

Sinister has posed:
"And thus why I've resisted the urge to erradicate him so I don't need to trouble myself further," Sinister chuckles at that. It was a joking tone, but it's nevertheless got a grain of truth in it. He chews on his cheek, rolls his jaw about. A deep breath, held. Then?

"I am trying to at least be moderately civil. But he rubs everything wrong in me, though that might just be flattery to most people. You get on Sinister's nerves do you? Well, good show you." A fleeting grin, there and gone again.

"But he is all kinds of protective, you're right. And well, to put it in the vernacular, would be -beggared- if he let me teach his nephew all cock-eyed or biased or lead him down the wrong path. The nerve, though. He puts a lexicon of all things Phantasm smack into the young man's brain, then just lets him get on with bumbling around trying to get a handle on it all? No. If you're going to create something new, put it out into the world, you have a -responsibility- to it. To him, to her. Whoever it is."

Oh. Right. Bizarre though it is, Sinister has a /very/ strong parenting drive.

Lucifer has posed:
The fact that the two of them can sit in the kitchen, eating delicous cockle-warming food and have an in depth conversation about impressions and hatred without raising a voice or having disagreements may say something about this couple. "I agree with you. In all those things you said. I'm just also offering a sort of outside the window looking in observation. And am, in no way, really telling you how to get on. I do hope you know that." He offers this before taking another sip of wine and another few bites of stew.

"So. All of that said now and to the side. Shall we finally get into deeper talks on how we're going to fix this machine of yours so we can finally figure out the best way to get rid of this apophis meteor slowly threatening the existence of mankind?" Asking this in a mostly casual manner, but also perhaps trying to give Nathaniel's mind a bit of a 180 in thought to focus on something else besides a anger-inducing man of past issues.

Sinister has posed:
There is a comfortable nod of agreement, then a lean across the table, aided by the ability to levitate, in order to take a kiss on account of agreeable relations. It isn't that they don't argue, far from it. But they TEND to do so about silly things, name call, get all stroppy in a playful manner, because it all -diffuses- tensions. And occasionally, such things as necessary whiffle fights.

The kiss lingers, all beet and wine flavoured, then Sin settles back and finishes off his meal quickly and efficiently, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

"That old crumpet, I might finally have a solution to. It will involve giving everyone a set of my neo-cortical electrodes, calibrating them for each individual participating and letting everyone actually get close to the -actual- machine. You all need to understand it, how IT works, how it's crafted together, its own harmonics as I do, to be able to disperse and fix all the others, with the same intrinsic knowledge. The things should work on Angels now, thanks to your brothers."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"You're welcome."

...

That was not Lucifer's voice.

Over to the bar, a familiar blond now stands. looking over to Sinister. "And no, I didn't bring him with me."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer places a placeholder for grins and giggles and so he doesn't have to re-start the scene all over again.

Lucifer has posed:
"So all the minds come together as one and hopefully we can knock some sense into it?" Lucifer asks, moving to clean up the dishes, rinsing them off and setting them in the dishwasher which is still only half full. They don't tend to fill it but once a month - which saves on the water bill for sure. "Sounds like a decent enough plan, and if Michael's olive branch holds steady, maybe there will be one more mind to put to it than before... which can also be helpful. Is your little mutant friend going to have a part in it as well?"

All of this is asked and then he hears the voice before he feels the presence, a shift of gaze over to the bar where Raphael then stands. "Good. I was hoping I didn't somehow just quick manifest him into existence in my home again so soon. I need a long break from him for the moment." Lucifer admits and then smirks. "So, what brings you here Raphael? Also, where in the bloody hell do you keep hiding flasks?"

Sinister has posed:
"In a way. I got to thinking about what Seven had said and realized a certain mirror needed to be held up to myself. So I mapped my own brain again, just for the sake of accuracy in current state and located the area responsible for my gifts and created a device based on the electromagnetic fields Rogue has and can utilize to temporarily activate the parts of the brain responsible for technomancy."

Aha! AH! HAH! So that's how he thought adjacent to whatever solution might've been had. "So, less all brains thinking as one, but all minds seeing how I see machinery. And the added benefit of me having made it."

And that familiar voice has him looking over at the bar and staring for a long moment, followed by smiling. A little bit like an afterthought.

"Raphael... a good evening. You should try some of the beef and beet stew, it's very good. And... now I am thinking of wing cuddles again."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Raphael smiles. "Now if I told you the locations, where would be the fun in finding them?" Leaning forward, Raphael rests his arms upon the bartop, head turning to look between the couple.

The comment about wing cuddles gets a bit of a blink from the angel. After a few moments a chuckle makes its way out. "I imagine bringing them out while I'm standing here of all places could be a little chaotic." And despite pointing out the problem with his positioning, he makes no move away from the bar. Nor towards the contents located there.

Raphael looks over to Lucifer. "Well, being that you two are working on a couple of things that we'd find interesting, it'd be understandable if there was an utterance of it that someone might show up." He pauses, "...It also gives us an excuse to stop by and say 'hi'."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer lofts a brow upwards while looking over towards Nathaniel once more. "My brother shows up and you think of wing cuddles?" There's a smirk that comes just after that before he takes down another bowl, fills it with stew, grabs a spoon and then walks over towards the bar. The bowl with spoon is set on the bartop in front of Raphael. "Indeed. Try it. I made it myself." He offers this and then grins before turning back to look in Nathaniel's direction again.

"Seems like a solid plan. But do we really want to have everyone here at the same time? All of us? The chaos that might ensure might be worse than the threat of the apophis meteor...." He jokes. Sort of. And then shifts around to walk behind the bar and disappears behind it, beginning to open up a few of the cupboards. Perhaps in search of a flask. Perhaps in search of something else. He then looks up at Raphael, grins and simply says, "Hi."

Sinister has posed:
"I'm sorry, ever since I saw his Peacock-cock-cock, I've had images of those against white and it pops up every time..." Sinister replies, with a sniff and a jawlift to say 'so there'. "Are we referring to ourselves in the royal plurality?" is asked over to Raphael as the devil provides a bowl of the stew for the tasting, remaining where he is for now.

And then due consideration. "Well, the actual machine is elsewhere, linked by my tesseract technology. I have it in the basement of the Arc... so it wouldn't be cramped per se... but I am mildly dreading it, considering how many machines need calibrating and I will have to concentrate on the one in the prime I suspect. Dare I say we ought to be capable of cooperating when it's vital? Yes? No?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Well in his defense, my wings do look nice." Raphael responds, pausing as he looks to the stew before him. Tilting his head forward, he takes a prolonged sniff. A hand moves over to collect the spoon, bringing it up. "It does smell good." He allows, scooping up a bit of stew.

As Lucifer pops over to immediately search the bar area, Raphael lowers the spoon back into the bowl to look to his brother. The silence from the blond may have been noticeable considering Lucifer's grin. Raphael's smile strengthens. "Hi."

Collecting the bowl and spoon, Raphael steps away from the bar to give his brother access to the cabinets he blocked. Now in need of a new perch, he makes his way over towards the breakfast nook. But prior to sitting down, he glances over to Sinister. Pondering something.

Fwoosh.

Still standing, wings out but folded, Raphael remains standing, attention setting upon the bowl as he goes back to scooping his first bite. "Well there's obviously more than one. With your machine alone, that's got the cooperation of..." He pauses, looking to Lucifer, seeming to count them out. "Six of us... to some degree."

There's not much more in explanation to that as he takes in a spoonful of stew.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer opens one cabinet and rummages around within. He's not going to admit that he's gone looking for a flask now, after all this time he could have been looking for it. But he does notice that Raphael has moved and therefore he can now look in all the cabinets here. "So you've imagined his wings against my wings all wrapped around you? Like some white and peacock cocoon of feathers to keep you safe and warm?" Asking this even from where he's kneeling so he can rummage cabinets. Not finding anything yet, he is determined that one of the hidden flasks is behind the bar. Somewhere.

And he will find it tonight.

"I think we can all get along if it's for a good cause. And it's a perfect chance for Michael to show just how strong that olive branch is. Will he hold to his word, or will it collapse under lies he's sprouting to try and get our trust in him all of a sudden." Only time will tell and Lucifer is skeptical at best.

He shifts to rummage through another cabinet.

"How's the stew, Raphael?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister takes a long, slow, steady breath as the tattle tale FWOOSH occurs. His shoulders flinched when it happened and rolled right back in a jerk of movement... but no wings emerge. He lets the breath out and just smiles a little at the very pretty peacock pinions, giving a small, small nod of appreciation as he relaxes once again. Focus on the foreground translates to focus on the background and Lucifer's search for the elusive gifts squirrelled away by his kinder brother.

"Essentially yes. It might be a thing that's ingrained in human psyche, or cultural identity, because no matter what my logical brain says, it does feel extremely safe and comforting beneath an Angel's wings. But it was just a flight of fancy, a thought I shared -- I would hasten to say a daydream even."

He watches the sampling of the soup/stew and gives a couple of blinks in astonishment when Raphael actually states things in such a manner. "Good grief, it is, isn't it? The first choir seems to be rather invested and a secondary sister with a major duty. Only Jophiel and Zadkiel not involved." Those two names have him narrowing his gaze a moment, then after a transfixed moment, shakes his head. "I can't imagine either of those two taking part."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Mmmph mmph mpph." Raphael mumbles back. The mouth is closed to prevent the stew from escaping. The bite of stew is consumed, leading to the angel having a bit more control over the sound coming out of his mouth.

"It tastes very good, Lucifer." He answers, preparing another spoonful but not quite taking it just yet.

Raphael listens in on Sinister' explanation for the fancy. "So, your equivalent of a security blanket. More or less."

Nathaniel listing Jophiel and Zadkiel does force the angel to suppress the urge to shrug in response. Stew ladden spoon in hand and all. "Beauty and Mercy can sometimes be so subtle that they can be overlooked or forgotten. But it doesn't make them any less important."

Raphael stirs the stew slightly, "If you do want to find them...Maybe you have to move away from the machine itself, and instead look to those contributing."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer is completely flummoxed that he cannot seem to find a silly little flask. It's not even that important. It's the principle of the matter. His brother has hidden things and these must be found! "I'm sure Beauty might find way down here... I highly doubt Mercy will ever show their face. Not in front of me anyway." He offers this, and there is perhaps a certain sadness when he says those words but that's all that happens. He's still on a mission and that's taken up most his attention. Except, "Glad you like the stew, brother."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister looks at the wings on display again, staring at them as he reaches for his wine. It's a distraction, the wine is, which is needed and important in this particular moment. It gives a reprieve to gather his thoughts in the wake of what was just said by both celestials.

Lowering the glass, he rests it on his knee, filling it up with more of the red by whim of mind.

And one of the cabinets where corkscrews and little wine charms are kept, rattles like something got trapped in it.

What? Nothing to see here. Nope.

"I'm not sure I follow you, Raphael."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Raphael is however on his next bite of stew. For it is delish and one bite won't do. "Hmm?"

Conversations over food tend to work better when the others involved are also eating. Awkward pauses for everyone then. But either way the bowl has captured a chunk of the blond's attention as he spoons more. "This might be a bit abstract but- think to everyone involved. Can you not think of anyone who has either exhibited or received mercy at some point? Or anyone who manages to find the bright side of things when they have every reason not to? Like that fish says..."

He lifts up the spoon, waggling it a little but careful not to spill a drop. "...Just keep swimming?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer sets a placeholder in place. Cause we have learned such is the trick to work on poses.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer gives up on his search for a flask in the bar. Perhaps that was just a little too 'on the nose' for his brother. Makes sense anyway. So he stands and walks away from the bar - leaving it in a bit of disarray. (This has to happen due to continuance in another scene) "I suppose, in some ways, I have been shown a mercy or two...but I doubt that was anything the choir did. As, until very recently, me and the choir did not really do...favors..."

He walks over to his throne to sit and as he sits, he gets an inkling. Standing again, he turns and looks at the seat, then reaches to fiddle a moment or two until... a-ha! "...Really? In my throne? That's...I suppose clever enough you little rascal." But he tosses his brother a smile and floats the flask over to the counter.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister continues to gaze at the wings, looking from them to Lucifer and back. There's a sound then of acknowledgement. "I don't really consider the virtue to be a direct influence of siblings in this grand design. They're in every mercy and all things of beauty, but that doesn't mean they've contributed directly, does it? I mean, if they have, they're keeping mum on it..."

He shuffles on his seat, then slides off of it, bringing his wine glass and himself over to Lucifer -- the latter is surrendered to the coffee table, the former is given a simple, but penetratingly tight hug, clinging as if hanging off the edge of a cliff and he without wings.

Then there's a resting of crown to crown and he steps back, exhaling as with a crack and a similar FWOOSH, his own wings emerge and flit somewhat, agitated by the fact he resisted their emergence perhaps. They remain gold fringed.

"What are Jophiel and Zadkiel like, anyway? My imagination is likely not accurate, given it hasn't been on -any- other occasion."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Raphael cracks a smile to Lucifer's discovery. "I assumed you would find that one first." The angel admits before taking the moment to get another spoonful of stew into his mouth. He savors it while his words are allowed to be processed by the others.

First.

As in more to go...

Quietly Raphael listens to Sinister's comments and watches as the doctor approaches his companion. There's a contemplative gaze of the pair as he sets the spoon back into the bowl. Eyes set upon the gold flecks.

"Appearance or behavior wise?" Raphael asks. "I've observed that they can easily switch between very grandiose to very subtle in terms of execution. Sometimes on their own, and other times in concert with others."

Lucifer has posed:
"I don't think they work quite as direct as the rest of the choir in most things. Subtle. Discreet. In most cases." Lucifer says this and then has a moment with Nathaniel. Likely the one trying to muster calm in the other. It works. He smiles.

"Honestly, of the whole, I remember them less than the others. I couldn't even tell you their appearance... except if I recall...Zadkiel has a dagger." Offering that much more as he turns to settle upon his throne and crosses one leg over the other. "I feel like I've spun around in a full circle. What were we talking about before flask finding and stew sharing?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister settles himself down. On the floor, in fact, hunkered on the balls of his feet in a squat, with the wings mostly folded but ruffled. They remain shorter than an actual angel's, squatter. A corvid wing. He stares at nothingness, resting elbows on his knees as a frown and squint slowly takes shape. "I can only imagine that -- I can't... clearly picture the children of my neighborhood when I was a child myself. Presences, impressions, but the details are vague. And that was but two hundred years ago..."

The narrowed eyes relax, his focus shifting to the faces of the two archangels. "We had been talking about Leo and the generalized dislike -- and about the potential for actually -repairing- the machine that the Celestials impowered. Raphael showed up, right when I mentioned your brothers had assisted in tuning the devices to an inhuman mind. Machines are less intuitive than brains, I think my thoughts translate the potentially incomprehensibility of your thoughts, by dint of intent and semantic meaning. And then there were flasks and you got into it, Lucifer."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Well, to be honest I was listening before the talk of machines." Raphael admits, wings fwooshing away as he makes use of the vacated seat in the breakfast nook to sit down. "The machine is just more likely what we'd consider the blatantly obvious example of assistance."

The bowl clunks down onto the table. "I wonder Dr. Essex. Were you trying to recall an instance of mercy or one of beauty when you were going back so far?"

Lucifer has posed:
"Ah yes. Because you and Leo had words while you went and took care of business." He watches as Raphael puts away his wings before he settles on the chair at the breakfast nook. "As for the machine. I think we had sort of decided that we need everyone here so we can actually do the thing that needs to be done. There was a discussion of wondering if certain people could get along and we think - for the better part of getting something done - they can. Put aside differences to save the world, and hope Michael is on his best." He offers this while taking out two cigarettes, lighting them both, and proffers one to Nathaniel. The question Raphael presents has him lofting a brow, but it is certainly not his to answer. So he just sits.

And likely debates on how many more flasks there are to find and where they are hidden.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's brow arches, looking over the curve of his shoulder to Raphael. Were you now. And now with the existential qualities of the divine. Most deities that the scientist has met, have not been moving in mysterious ways, for sure and certain.

"Now, that leads itself into the proof denies faith and free will arguments, as existential blessings and virtues lessen actual knowledge to a degree. I would like to think that help was given when asked for and because of desire to assist, not seraphic portfolios. That and a good deal of hard thinking, design work, years and years and years of study and a dash of serendipity. But that's just me." He grins a crooked grin.

It's always a bit odd to have conversations with the celestials. In some paradigms, he should've made them poof in a cloud of logic.

"Neither. Just memory, Raphael. Clarity becomes fuzzier with age, was the generalized observation."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Words, but not of the productive variety." Raphael adds in to Lucifer's summary, "But what should we expect of two doctors with conflicting ideas of the best course of treatment? Honestly you two would get further if you two actually talked for understanding instead of trying to gain some sort of 'win' over the other. It's honestly like watching..."

He pauses. Scooping up some more stew before looking over to Lucifer, "During this process. I'll be sure to come over anytime Michael does... just in case."

Lucifer has posed:
"You're being modest, Nathaniel. If any of that had any significant impact on your life, you would remember the day down to how the air smelled. If it's not something you deemed important... that's when it's just a memory." Lucifer chimes in with a grin. He crosses one leg over the other and then shrugs. "If you wish to be here every time Michael comes over, be my guest. He has a lot to prove...but if he's serious it shouldn't be too much of an issue."

That said he looks between the doctor and the patron of, raising a brow but just letting that perhaps settle between the two of them.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's wingfeathers aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall flatten and the arches of them raise a little in the beginnings of a mantle. Glowering at them, the focus sharply shifted from Raphael to the pinions, they slowly fold back to loosely held. "You are Nick's patron, Raphael. I am ... nothing but a friend to him. But the one that made him what he is now? He's blood. And ultimately, it matters not one jot, whether I or he have an opinion on matters, other than between us, we might bump heads. In the end, only Nick decides what he wishes to learn and who he'd learn it from."

He straightens up then, arms held still at his sides, before they fwip to the small of his back and clasp one with the other.

He glances to Lucifer, nodding in acknowledgement of what was said. "Modesty or honesty, you probably have the right of it." The tone is mild as he walks off, balcony doors opened by thought, not by physical deed as he strides into the cold of the outside world to stare at the overcast sky, back to the Penthouse.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The spoon in Raphael's hand lowers. Setting it into the bowl. "I am a patron of many, Nathaniel." He states slowly. Voice raised just enough to be heard through the balcony door. "I am also a patron of doctors. And perhaps that is why I'm holding you and Leonard to a higher standard. And yes, my involvement in matters regarding Michael Nicholas increased when he chose me. Maybe more-so than what would be considered the norm. But my BLOOD wasn't a factor in that decision. Much harm was done to him and those around him. And not one person is going to be the cure all to fix him. He needs friends. He needed occupation. He needed a big distraction. All of which he got when his path crossed Leonard's."

The chair slides on the floor as Raphael stands up, abandoning the stew. "You were quick to claim an uncle title in front of him but once I bring it up... nothing but a friend?"

Raphael turns his head to look to the open door, but makes no move towards it. "Consider who his strongest ties in blood are. Would you really have preferred one of them to pull them into their world so early?"

Raphael shakes his head. "That was a mercy."

Raphael looks over to Lucifer. "Thank you for the stew."

And with that, Raphael is gone.