16732/Interlude: Bloody Mary, bloody Mary

Interlude: Bloody Mary, bloody Mary
Date of Scene:	13 April 2025
Location:	Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis:	A little wind down and discuss after blowing up a hydra sub and taking a lot of bodies for study.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Lucifer

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Sinister has posed:
How long does it take to calm down from destruction mode? That invariably depends on who it is that is calming, one supposes.

Anger gives way to numbness sometimes, focus detachment gives way to a need to cleanse the self.

So we're in the bathroom. Well, Sinister is in the bathroom, sitting at the vanity before the large boudoire mirror, patiently and calmly grooming his moustache and beard.
He doesn't have to, he could tell it to grow just so. But the ritual is part of the cleanse, isn't it? Gaze steadily into your own eyes, pluck this eyebrow hair, look into the middle distance, tone your skin, roll your shoulders back, find the spark in the shadow'd horizon and concentrate on the now.
Pluck.

Patient and systematic destruction got wrought. Information got grabbed. Victims got placed in tanks to be recussitated. Consideration gets given to what was BEING done there.
All the MDS. That's going to be an interesting one to explain.

Lucifer has posed:
While Nathaniel is grooming himself in the bathroom at his vanity, Lucifer is in the kitchen. Lots of little finger foods are on the menu. Pigs in blankets, deviled eggs, cheese and crackers with the main course being steak and potatoes.

The weather is also being it's bipolar self at the moment so there's a fire crackling in the fireplace keeping the penthouse warm enough to withstand the chill of the outside.

He's still thinking back to the images he saw just before they took the submarine off the radar. Wings, claws, teeth...it's like with a word each one of them tried to tap into something they weren't quite ready for. "Do you think it was mutations or that they found the angelic genome and tried to enhance it?" He doesn't have to shout the question, Nathaniel can likely hear him well enough.

Sinister has posed:
"I'm... not... wholely sure. Given that divine energy signature and infernal both, are mutagens, it could've been either. We won't know. Until later. If ever. I might find I don't want to know..." Mirror mirror, you can contain the whole universe. What kind of magic is that?

With a sigh, Sin reaches for his aftershave, splashes a gentle amount and rises, sliding into black silk, embroidered with chinese serpents. He trundles on out, flipflop slippers squeaking.

"I'm still trying to work out why that is."

Lucifer has posed:
"Why what is? That you don't want to know?" Lucifer asks as he turns his head when he hears the sound of squeaky slippers. A little smirk turns the corners of his lips upwards and then he flips steaks. "You like yours medium rare, right?" One would think the Devil likes his rare as blue but really he prefers mid-well. Little pink, but not much.

There are ingredients on the counter as if the Devil may make a cake or brownies soon. So long as he's in the kitchen, his mind is focused and he doesn't dwell on most things. "Honestly, I don't know if I want to know either. Maybe they didn't even know what it was and wanted to see what it could do...my secrets might still be safe then..."

Or there could be HYDRA and SHIELD files on him and that may mean another few targets to take out. If they decide to be greedy.

Potatoes begin to boil.

Sinister has posed:
"Yes," that's helpful. There's a faint frown on Sin's face as he emerges, heralded by the squeaks. He pauses in the door frame, his head tilted. "And no. I mean... both I suppose. Why I am not sure I want to know. Why divine and infernal energy is inherantly mutagenic - and more importantly, why it tends to have patterns of manifestation." He shrugs, shakes his head solemnly and looks over at the spread.

He's a shrewd man. He knows why there's a cooking storm happening, it's the same reason there was a systemic ablution session in the bathroom. He squeaks over, strokes a hand down the devil's back and leans in to rest his head upon one shoulder for a moment, that hand coming to an eventual rest upon the hip.

"Well. For them to know, they would have to believe. For there to be belief, there might also have to have been faith. Without either, they'd perhaps have been scuppered by the blinkers of ignorance."

Lucifer has posed:
"You think that same thought process worked for Thor?" Lucifer asks, giving his leaning lover a side eye for the moment. "I'm sure we'll find answers when and if we want them. You have a few specimens to look into, so that's something. And Hydra lost a lab."

One steak is pulled off so it can rest. The other one will be on the heat for another couple minutes and then it - too - will have it's resting time. Potatoes need about ten minutes to become fork tender so he can mash them up with butter and cream. Everything else seems ready - at least for picking at before the main show.

"Still kinda wish I kept that doctor for you... but eh..if you really ever have any questions for him I can always keep him in a pit for questioning later."

Sinister has posed:
"I imagine he will have plenty and nothing to say," Watching the steak given its care, Sin never answered about his preference, because of course the Devil had it right. He squeezes, then turns himself about so his back is to the flame, looking out over the room and leaned in a manner that he can see his lover's face with ease.

"I think they might have generalized a conception that a god is nothing but an alien with high technology. That, to someone more primative, seems like magic. But..." he shrugs. He's had his own battles there. Angels and demons after all, are non-corporeal energy beings... until they don't want to be. It's very hard on the science.

"I just hope that we destroyed the right head there. We might have to destroy a few more so that they lick their wounds for a while."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer gives a little smirk and turns off the fire for the steaks once the second one is plated to rest and then he turns to face Nathaniel. "I'm sure we did. If we didn't...we'll just take out another. I'm not worried about ripping off a few hydra heads." He's dealt with worse. Or so he keeps in his mind.

"That doctor though. So full of pride... creator and manipulator. Or so he claimed. Fates chose spontaneous combustion for him. Nothing but a pile of ash once I was done." Which then led to him giving some commands to MD4, who listened but also didn't. Visceral fighting until the pressure went so he grabbed MD4 and got out of there.

"Want me to flavor the mashed potatoes with anything? Cheese? Chives? Bacon?"

Sinister has posed:
"Chives and parmesan sounds fantastic," Nathaniel replies, idly folding his arms and inching away from the work area, so he's not being a lump in the way of things. He ends up on one of the breakfast stools, leaning with one elbow and forearm on the bartop that is their dining table, most times. Fingers are drummed.

"That would explain the terrified thoughts, though there were quite a few of those by the end. Pride comes before a fall, so they say -- though that should probably be unchecked pride," a pause "...I imagine he was rather proud. Attempting to science magic is a difficult thing -- few are as refined in the arts of it as I." His own pride flutters and fluffs a moment there. But there's a truth to that. There's nobody better than he, on the face of the Earth at least.

"If he did not know what it was he was playing with though, I can understand why the clones may have had issues figuring out what was happening to them. The Host is... not... easy to comprehend."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer gives a grin. "Sounds good.." Few more minutes on the boiling of the potatoes however. But Lucifer will move to grab the requested flavors from the fridge and then moves to begin chopping the chives.

"Well. I can't say he willingly gave up that information. I might have played a little Devil's Advocate on him... and stroked his ego a little. Just before boiling his blood and causing him to combust." Which coming from anyone but the Devil to anyone but Nathaniel could be....interesting. This? Completely normal conversation.

Seriously.

Potatoes are drained and then put back into the pot but then Lucifer gets an idea.

"You wanna come mash some potatoes?"

Sinister has posed:
The fingers drum again, up and down the scale, then to the tune of 'shave and a hair-cut' because: because. "I can't say he'll continue to give answers, unless it works on the dead as well as the living? Compelling shaped negative plane energy has its own peculiarities..."

Yes, normal. Absolutely normal. This is general conversation without judgement. That's left for official bizznizz. Blinking owlishly, Sin stares at his hand. The drumming stops and he flattens the palm, just as the question rolls in.

"I can mash potatos..." he glances to the masher, sliding from the stool. "You know me, I usually like to attempt not to be a fly in the ointment, or a disaster in the crockpot."

Lucifer has posed:
"Can you also do the twist?" Lucifer says and then does some sort of mini-twist dance motion before letting out a laugh. "Well. I know you joke about how you can't cook... but I also know that nothing can go wrong with beating a few potatoes into mush and then putting in the precisely measured amounts of things I give you to mix in." Then Nathaniel can say he helped with dinner. Which may stroke a little pride and ego for the man. Or maybe it will just mean the two of them made dinner together.

Whatever works.

"You really think I can't waltz down into Hell, look that crummy old bastard right in his soul's eyeballs and get him to talk? Tsk tsk my love. So little faith." But there's a grin again and a shrug. Dinner plates are brought down because all the food is almost ready.

Sinister has posed:
"I wouldn't dream of it, I might give you ideas," Sinister replies without missing a beat as he flips the masher up from its podium and spins it like a drumstick on his palm, looking sidelong across his shoulder with a half-smile half-concealed by the turn of it. Eyebrows bob up just the once. "I can frappe some tubers like a professional."

They made dinner together. His ego isn't quite that easily flattered in the scheme of culinary calibre. Even he knows when there's no cooking involved it's just violence to root vegetables and tubers.

"I have to wonder though, is that the compulsion of who you -are-, or the compelling of what you do at work, down there." He nods to the floor. Because Hell is down, even if technically it's just adjacent.

Lucifer has posed:
"Oh. No that's not even compulsion. Soul knows it's in Hell. Knows I'm the King. ....So I guess it IS compulsion...just in a different form. No need to actually do any compelling like I do up top here." The Devil explains this and then shrugs. Melted butter, cream and the chives and parmesan are all set next to the stove for Nathaniel to put into the pot at any point.

"You know. Some people actually use mixers to get mashed potatoes. I always thought they were invented as man's way to get frustration out and feed themselves and or their family at the same time." Wow. Little ways off topic there, but then, they have sort of been all over the place with their talk tonight.

"Anyway. How long you gonna let the tubies vegitate before trying to get anything out of them?"

Sinister has posed:
"Probably enough so that arguing that particular is probably akin to splitting hairs," Sinister leans down to the potatos, sniffs them and adds in careful measures at the right and appropriate times, masher plunging and adding its own special kind of therapy, just as Lucifer goes and extrapolates that thought.

"Hmm? Food mixers or potato mashers? The former is laziness and convenience, the latter I would be inclined to agree..."

Nutmeg and black pepper in the grinder are floated over and a little of both gets added, with a pinky-scoop swipe from the business end of the masher. Perfect.

"Again, I'm not yet decided. Some, I think I shall let them stew deep enough that their thoughts go to the deep subconscious. Others, they may be better off coming up sooner. Variations on a theme of stubborn, I'd say." He sniffs, gives a few more stomps for good measure and cleans the bowl professionally, floating the utensils out to their destinations. "Would you have any thoughts on that?"

Lucifer has posed:
Black pepper would have been added. Lucifer wouldn't have thought to use nutmeg. It's one of those can be for savory or sweet type of spices that he often overlooks. "Food mashers. Mixers -are- lazy... at least for certain things. They do well in a pinch for baking...like bread. Oooh. That reminds me. I should do a sourdough starter..."

Then he shrugs. "I know not. The one with the wings, the one I grabbed, that one intrigues me. The wings seemed more demonic than angelic though... so I have to wonder if they were doing a sort of reptilian mashup. Then I think of the claws and fangs...and if Hydra got hold of a demon...that could explain things as well." He pauses. "Could be any demon too. Not just mine. There's all sorts. Likely taken from Asgard since Thor and Loki seem to have some pull there." How would he know? Well. Conversations have been had.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister slides himself back onto the barstool, hands washed dutifully before doing so. Nutmeg is very english when it comes to mashed potatos. And rather old fashioned, thusly right up Doctor Essex' alley.

"If there's a measure of self-actualizing involved in that aspect of a Nephalim, no matter how distant... that might account for that. Even if you've been brainwashed and churned out in a terrible psychic millstorm, you can still feel chaos calling you."

Wine with dinner, a nice red, he decants at range and tilts his head again in thought. "Well, I know there's all sorts that play to that fiddle. But aren't they all fundamentally made of the same ichor as the lilim? In that... I've seen you command those that weren't strictly christo-judaica-islam demons."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer puffs his chest out with pride at that last bit, gives a little smirk and side eye before simply saying, "It's good to be the king." Then he slices steak for the dinner plate, layers on a bit of chimichurri, a side of the potatoes and brussel sprouts. Roasted with bacon and topped with a balsamic.

"Maybe. We know who the base is for it...and I don't know how he's going to react to knowing that. Hell, I don't even know if we should tell him. Maybe just leave that to our own minds. Either way... I'm actually interested in what you find, whenever you find it." He sets plates down and then sits adjacent to his lover.

Dinner is served.