Owner	Pose
Sinister	The Moulin Rouge had been a thing. It is, after all, one of the longest running burlesque and cabaret estabishments in the world. And because it's Paris, it did indeed retain a certain old-world charm. Dancers had danced at and singers had sung -to- the table, right near the front, far more often to the bewitching lady in a black dress, than to her beau. That's the nature of L'amour in Paris, n'est pas? One romances the lady, for she is queen. It may even have been flattering. The variety acts are as polished as Las Vegas and with a good deal more style to them, as to be elsewise would be to be Gauche. Walking back through streets, to music played by street performers, the bright lights and renaissance facades, the style, the atmosphere, the late night cafes where coffee OR nightcap might be had, artists painting portraits on the banks of the Senne, night tours on the water itself, to see History illuminated... A date night in the city of Romance is not to be denied. The little apartment was cool, the scent of the Night wafted through it and old and modern songs were a backdrop to the sweet undoing of a night's festivities. Dawn comes too early, but when you don't really HAVE to sleep, is that even more than a trivial thing? Fresh croissants can be smelled, along with Bonne Maman fresh conserves, nutella and almond cream and GOOD coffee. Nathaniel brings all of this to the bedroom with a laptray and a smile.
Lucifer	There had been enjoyment and flattery while at the Moulin Rouge, experiencing it first time and as a lady, did not fail to impress. Being sung at, swayed towards, and placed upon some attention pedestal. Fleeting glances to her companion to ensure that he did not mind her getting so much attention. Seeing the flattery on his face was all Luci needed to continue and enjoy the night. Praised and entertained. It was lovely. The remaining variety acts enjoyed, applauded, and then the entertainment at the Rouge was over. It bleeds into a night walk along Paris' fine streets. Seeing street performers, hearing different types of music that seem to bleed together so finely as if crafted to be enjoyed both as parts of a whole and the whole itself. Scents of the night, coffee, alcohol, fragrances of florals and the Senne itself. She entwined closer arm and hand with his, laid a head upon his shoulder as they walked. Perhaps even talked a bit, asking him random questions about this or that being seen or heard. Casual bits to fill their walk. Then they're back at the apartment, and the night continues there, fueled by all things romantic and lust combined. The morning peels away the night and she rests, but like some, sleep is not a thing quite needed - but given to the mortal construct she posesses. A thing that doesn't change overnight like it has before. When the scents of croissants and preserves, good coffee and creams waft into the room, it is Luci who sits up in bed. Half covered by linen sheets, wearing a sheer nightgown which she likely let settle in case the windows are opened again. She smiles to Nathaniel, lifting a hand to brush back her raven locks. "Good morning. Breakfast in bed or on the balcony?"
Sinister	It seems as if Sinister had simply slid out of bed to go to the bakery, to make those preparations, without actually looking who remained in the bed with him. It was pre-dawn, when the first bake comes out of the oven and there are things worthwhile in such sacrifices for pleasure. So, when Luci stirs her lovely locks and sits up, Nathaniel actually looks mildly surprised. But only mildly! "I am easy mon cherie, I could enjoy the morning light, or remain in the shadow. It all depends on the whim of the artist," setting the tray on the bedside table, he leans down to attend a necessary greeting of the morning oh-so-very tenderly. "When you are happy, you shine, my dearest one. And last night, you were every inch the star."
Lucifer	Luci returns that very tenderly greeting, and adds a little nuzzle of her own while she has Nathaniel's full attention. "You flatter me, my love." Offering those words to the last comment Nathaniel gives as she works almost backwards on how things are offered. "Mmmn... the artist is lazy and wishes to remain in bed...." This and she giggles, shifting only then to sit up just a bit more, fiddling with a pillow or two behind her for comfortable support. There seems to be a passing thought that catches her a moment and then she smiles. "Would it be cliche at all to wish to visit the Lourve at some point? I'm not sure if it counts as more cultural or touristy or a bit of both but...I would love to go walk through it and see the masterpieces it holds." A smirk then. "It might even be a trip down memory lane in some ways..."
Sinister	Sinister waits until Luci is settled, propped up and grand against the pillows, before he settles the tray across her lap, sitting at her left hand side, so that she is on his right, he removes the laced cover from breakfast offerings and watches, swapping his grip that he might set it aside and stroke fingers in a loose comb through her hair a few times. "If you say so," is said warmly enough and with a teasing wink, he rests his hands on the wooden side frame of the bed, back to her but watching over his shoulder. "Not at all. It's almost a must, when visiting this city, that one must see the collection of compiled antiquity and marvel at le Centre Pompidou. It has a refinement that negates most of the touristy aspect." He tilts his head. "Shall I make arrangements?" One hand slides to his pocket, removing his cellphone which he does absolutely nothing with, other than hold it like an oblong questionmark.
Lucifer	"I do say so. I would almost also argue that you are inching into spoiling me territory." Luci offers, with an intentional pause, before she adds, "I love it." Another giggle from her as he reveals the breakfast offerings. That hand through her hair is slightly leaned into even as she breaks into a croissant and doctors it with a bit of almond cream and preserves. A bite immediately taken so as to not let anything drip off and her eyes roll as she lets out quite the sound of edible pleasure. "Please do. I really would love to go." She answers the question and then seems curious. "Mmn, does it require an appointment to visit?" It wouldn't surprise her, as the Lourve can be quite the popular spot. "Also, are you not going to eat anything?" As she reaches for the french press to pour herself a cup of coffee.
Sinister	Sinister glances at the phone. It goes 'DINGALING' as of mail being received and he sets it aside. "Four times of the day; morning, early afternoon, mid and evening, to keep the flow moving. We have one for the morning, as we're at..." he glances at his pocketwatch. "Five fourty five. I feel very rested though, after the lights went out... just holding you against me." He shrugs though, giving a little grimace at how corny that sounded. "I'm eating with my eyeballs though, I wanted you to get first taste--" which is now had, so the second croissant is torn and dabbed with nutella, eaten off of his thumb and the pad licked thereafter. It's a slow and steady devour that. The coffee is poured after her own, taken black and with just a dab of demarara sugar, sipped functionally, rather than with any particular savouring. "Surely you must have been spoiled a time or two?"
Lucifer	Luci side eyes Nathaniel as his phone dings a message and she gives a soft chuckle before sipping on her coffee, black. Then another bite of her croissant is doctored with nutella which she enjoys for a moment of lazy chewing and savoring. "Lovely. This morning then? That was fast." She offers and then smiles lovingly. "I am quite rested myself. Spending the night with you was wonderful. Though you seemed surprised when you walked into the bedroom a bit ago. Wasn't expecting to still have me with you hmm?" Two parts of a whole, Lucifer and Luci are their own persons even though they are also the same. It's an interesting thing. As he finally takes up his own morsel she seems satisfied, and even nods her head. "Spoiled? No. Not in this sort of measure, where there's actual emotional attachment to it. If that makes sense." She offers, taking another sip of her coffee. "Even then I wouldn't call putting on a face to get what I want out of someone as being spoiled either. That's manipulation. On my part." Which causes her to look...almost guilty for a moment. "Which isn't what's happening here. I..." A trailed off thought, as she's not sure what to say there, and her coffee is set down for the moment.
Sinister	"I know what you mean," And he does, plain and simple. Nathaniel Essex has put on many a face over many a year, to manipulate and gain his gratification and desires met. "Having no agenda is liberating," -- he chuckles though, gesturing at the phone with a nod. "I just bought tickets. That's all. THe morning tends to be filled with Japanese and Germans, so there are more tickets available," the explanation given, he finishes off his coffee with one long pull, because pain isn't something he feels unless he wants to. "I was surprised though, yes. You tend to revert to a resting Luciferness, from previous experiences."
Lucifer	"It is, yes. Being this form or that one because I truly wish to be, with no other intention than to just...have fun. It's very freeing." Luci offers. "Ah, that makes sense, that you bought tickets. Mmn.. suppose I'll still have to actually get up and get ready at some point. You're now forcing me to be not-so-lazy." Though she grins, humor sparkling in her eyes because she's joking. Mostly. Lifting her own cup, she finishes her own coffee and then sets the cup back down. A wave of her hand lets her levitate the tray up and back enough so she doesn't knock into it as she brings her legs in and then shifts to turn so she's sitting on the edge of the bed. "Ah. I think I might be having a bit too much fun that I did not wish to turn back to Lucifer just yet. Maybe I want to be the eye candy on your arm for a little longer." She offers, reaching to brush fingers along his arm. "Anything else on your mind while we stay in Paris?"
Sinister	"Just as an observation, this was your desire," Sinister says with a small crooked smile and a shuffle to make a bit of room for swinging legs and at the touch of his arm, goosebumps rise. He really is just stupidly tall, when she's being herself like this. Six foot five is somewhere in the stratosphere and he looks down at her with softened eyes, which puts the ruby glow to a soft night-light kind of gleam. "No forced involvement, just groused uprightness," but that said, he leans waaaaaay on down to claim a kiss, lingering with a slow intake of breath and an escape of the hair curtain which shadows them both for a while. He exhales it all when he breaks the kiss, seeming to expunge a good deal of cares with it. "Nothing wrong with that, taking a walk on the sultry side. But you'd be eye-candy no matter which shape you were in. You're just... comfortably under-my-wing sized like this." Thought has to be given. "To be truthful and fair here, I do not know if there is or not. I wasn't expecting what happened yesterday, to occur. MOre might pop out. Apparently my mind is nostalgic at the moment, so... you have been warned."
Lucifer	Luci feigns an admonished gasp and places a hand on her chest to accent the part. "Oh, so now it's all *my* fault. Well!" Of course, she's not being at all serious, and watches that softened gaze while feeling those goosebumps on his skin. "Mmn. Little groused, but a necessary evil if I'm going to get what I want." This said as he's leaning in to claim that kiss, lingering it, and she returns it in kind. Her hand moving from his arm to his neck to hold there a moment before drifting fingers into his hair. As the kiss parts, she licks his lips and then his chin. "So indulgent..." A tilt of her head is given as he explains thoughts of her being eye candy no matter what, but this form has a certain appeal. "I do enjoy both shapes with you... but I have to wear Lucifer so much back home that... I guess affording myself more time as Luci, here with you, seemed...fitting? Doable? Both? Ha...and then I did wonder if maybe you had a preference. Which I wouldn't mind if you did, you know."
Sinister	Sinister gives a wicked little shiver, then stands, so that he's facing her, reaching both hands for her hair to stroke back the wavey curls. "I like them both. I can still see you, no matter which you you are. And it does feel right, to romance like this in Paris." Another stroke and smooth and a tuck of a lock behind her ear, he actually dries his chin off then with a turn of his face aside to dab on his collar. "Dubrovnik I think, will bring out your masculine side. It has that feel to it." One last 'indulgence' is enfolding and cuddling her in the iron girdle of his arms, stilled a few moments. "Right. Lets slip into something suitable for the Louvre," tilting his head upward, he shakes his hair back, letting it shorten to just a little shaggy and oh-so-slightly curled, rolling his shoulders back and out as he returns to the human he used to be.
Lucifer	Luci makes a little sound at the feel of his hands in her hair, brushing it back and then feeling him tucking a strand behind her ear. "Mmn. Well we'll have to put that on the list...though I should go back to Lux for at least a day or two and make sure things are going smoothly there." Ever the business person under all those layers but before the Devil is reached. As he cuddles her a moment, she takes a breath and snuggles into it for as long as it lasts, breathing in the scent of him as well. "Yes..." She agrees, watching him shake his hair out to that shorter style and put on his human form. She looks herself over and then seems to consider. "Dress or pants outfit?"
Sinister	Sinister nods to the caveat of business first, as he doesn't appear to be in a rush to do the great Europe tour of whim. But then that gets asked. There's no trick question here is there? No, so why is there an "Uhhh...." because there is one. He looks down her frame, looks at her legs, looks at all of her over again, goes back to the legs. "Uhh. Pants. Definitely pants," a gesture in a cutting motion across the waist and then vertical down that axis to the floor. "THey go all the way down and all the way up," he offers that and shrugs his shoulders into a pale blue shirt and denim vest, shaking his legs into distressed jeans and DMs.
Lucifer	"My dear Nathaniel, did that question fluster you so?" Luci asks, looking bemused and then she looks herself over a moment. A thought, and then a touch to her shoulder and the nightgown flourishes to a pant suit. The pants are black and loose-fitting, with a silver decorative chain around the waist in dips. Her blouse is red, form fitting except the sleeves which are a sheer fabric and bell at the forearms before tightening from elbow to wrist. The front V gives just a hint of what lies beneath - that only a lover will know or find out. She finishes the look off with a silver chained necklace with a heart locket, and small diamond earrings. "Yes. This should do, hmm?"
Sinister	Sinister watches the wardrobe rearrangement with his lips parting at the end. They remain parted for a few moments, before he musters "Wow. Uh... well. Honey? I think maybe... a little more conservative, or you're going to cause people to walk into the art displays. Maybe? Actually no, to heck with that, why not. I will laugh if it happens." He grins, closes eyes and projects the image of an alley nearby the louvre where people appearing out of nowhere won't cause a traffic accident. "Shall we?"
Lucifer	"I didn't think it was that much?" Luci offers, looking herself over for a moment. As Nathaniel seems to fight on whether she should change or remains, when he decides, she chuckles. "Mmn, very well. We can both laugh because I surely cannot be the only beautiful looking lady walking around Paris, or even the Lourve itself." She smiles, and then nods before stepping to his side. "We shall." Going by his lead at this point.
Sinister	And thus, the darkness enfolds. Hopefully. The alleyway still has the buzz of traffic at the end, but stepping immediately out of teleportation and around the corner to the rounded march of the Rue de Rivoli not far from the winged and palatial art gallery with the double glass pyramids and water features shining in the morning light. There is a sense of the grand. Truthfully all of Paris manages to convey this Power to the Little Man, for great palaces were not destroyed, great noble households not demolished, they were coopted by La Liberte! Sandstone ballistrade, with perfectly vaulted cloisters to provide shade, with no OTHER shade provided by the open square before it, it seems far larger than it otherwise would. The centre de Pompidou has it's own line-ups for entry, but they will find their path taken along that shadowed cloister to the main entrance -- this early there isn't much of a queue to get in, but there most DEFINITELY is a process. Of a mind to stately diplomat balls circa turn of the century, there are people then there are other people, there is security checks and there are Magic Wands, coat and bag check, ticket issued and THEN and only then, do you even get to the spot where they check the tickets. THe trove within these walls after all, is absolutely priceless.
Lucifer	Stepping into the alley way, around the corner to where the main gates are - and Luci takes a small moment to perhaps glance around the rest of the area. To just awe at the landscape that is Paris for a lingering moment. Then they're being led to the entry - and she's thankful that their path is thru the only real shaded part of the large square. "I...I did not think this place was actually this grand..." Luci comments as they walk along. Through the entrance where security checks are present. She has no pockets, and carries no clutch or purse - for reasons likely to do with security she'd just rather not bother with. Magic Wand, no check for coat or the like, a ticket, and then they go to where the tickets are actually checked. She manages, when she can, to be arm in arm with Nathaniel and leans in to whisper, "All that fuss, giving you the ticket now, and they still check the ticket after. Seems a little strange." While they make their way into the Palace de Lourve itself. No, it's not called that, but it might as well be!
Sinister	"It takes about a hundred visits to really see the whole of it and that's just the areas that they let individuals peruse through. There's several layers of storage and archives, restoration and offices beneath our feet as well." Sinister murmurs. "The French, particularly King Francis, in the 15th century, who cared to expand on the fort that once stood on the Marche here -- he was bound and determined to show how grand France was, in relation to every single nation under the known sky at that time. He had a very famous rivalry with Henry the eighth of England, in that he could never quite seem to one-up him, except in lasting architechture. And as the deposition of the monarchy here became more and more extravagent, they painted their fortunes onto the very landscape." Through the entrance disgorges into the Richelieu wing, which begins as a statuary. An indoor sandstone and marble terrarium with ceilings that are quite literally a hundred foot high, stone-cut staircases, a domed glass ceiling and galleries on all sides, leading to the various wings. Sinister seems hesitant at first and does not ascend, getting an odd little quizzical expression as he walks toward one of the side internal collonades, that sport very similar high vault walls and arched glass roofing, to maximize the light. It appears to lead toward relatively more modern classics, of the last couple of centuries.
Lucifer	"Wasn't Henry the Eigth the one that was notorious for killing all his wives?" Luci asks, thoughtful for a moment, before she gives a chuckle. "It's impressive. And one would have to really map out their visits here so they don't wind up going the same direction or place twice. I feel like you could even get lost in here if you're not careful enough..." It's a good thing transportation is available to them in certain ways. Tickets presented, and their entrance finally made, Luci looks around for a moment with a sort of marveled look about her face. "It's amazing. All this history placed in one location for people to view. Makes one wonder how many things are the real deal and how many are replicas." A pause. "Possibly even fakes." Wouldn't that be a delicious thing to reveal? Stare at a piece long enough and realize it isn't the true item it is supposed to be. It could happen. Probably has happened. Still, she is content to be on his arm and led around. Even the design of the building is amazing with its high ceilings and glassed roofing. To be here at night, to look at the stars around such history, would be a trip she figures. "Have you been here enough times to see it all?"
Sinister	"ONly two. Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived..." Sin nods though. "I... did get lost once or twice. Nowadays they have those speaking tours that can direct you back via numbered transmitters. And yes. But then they've moved things around and new pieces have been placed on loan," Nathaniel pauses again, tilts his head to the side the other way and watches Lucifer for a long, blissful moment where human culture of the Higher Aspects saturates the walls. So much history, indeed. Then as had happened in the flat, Sinister looks away and the world goes a little weird. They seem to be the only two people that are real here, the masses of tourists and students, day trippers and curators become transparent, like an afterimage overlaid on the Truth. Even the sound becomes a background pull. Sinister's eyes close, his brow creasing as other shapes, ghosted ones, drift about. Many ages, many times, from before the World Exploded, his footsteps lead him through a little side gallery, to where he stops infront of perhaps fifty varied pieces of art on display, all with MNR printed on the label (Musee Nationale revouvre -- works held by museums, but technically looted property, recovered) A gramophone can be heard playing off a little ways away, unfortunately rather scratched on the recording. It isn't Edith Piaff this time, but another, singing in german?
Lucifer	"Ah. Yes. Right. Still... he went through a slew of them..." Luci offers, listening further to Sinister as he explains about getting lost before, but how things are different now. Audio tours, numbered transmitters. Though they also move things around. That could get annoying. They've stopped then, and she feels those eyes on her which actually causes her to blush a bit, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. Then the world becomes as it had in the flat. She notices Sinister has looked away, the other tourists and students and so on are ghosting out, becoming transparent and as if they never existed. A glance around and she sees the layered image from times past, and she follows as he walks into a side gallery, seeing the pieces there. Pieces that are printed, marked, as they would have been ages ago and not today. Her hand comes up and touches Sinister's shoulder as she had done last night. Ears twitch to the music playing...but the fact that it's German has her giving a bit of a frown. "My love. What memory is this?"
Sinister	"It's July the first, nineteen forty," Sinister says quietly, touching her lightly on the fingers as he moves, heading to a stairwell heading down. That's where the music is coming from, as a curator almost seems to walk right through them. His steps seem terribly loud in the silence, but he doesn't float, going down three flights into what is offices and restoration, staff lounge and filing rooms, but has been superimposed by /similar/ offices. The time period tells the story in the style of chairs, the lack of computers, the telephone being a box on the wall with a horn and a cord. The little details. To the end, he makes a left, stops by an office where SS officers stand outside, looking inward. He sighs as the sound of a very solid punch can be heard inside. "Not my finest moment," he mutters. A little lean, a little distortion of the corridor has it bending so one can actually /see/ around the corner. An older officer is sitting behind the desk, where Sinister is being pounded on by a beefy armed motorcade driver that likely had gorilla in his ancestry. They are not soft punches either and one does actually make Nathaniel stagger back. The gleam in his eye is red, but he still looks human. "I wouldn't do that again, if I were you, Herr Schmidt." ONE more punch lands as the officer leans back. "You will tell me where the pieces are, mister Essex." "No, I will not." "You will, or..." **SMACK** This time the bully beef is knocked clean into the wall, the officers at the door scatter by a thrown force left and right and the officer himself is lifted upward, held by the throat with no hand. He gargles. "Here it comes..." the sigh. Machine gun fire from the corridor cuts Sinister almost in half, his anger blinding him to other things he missed that advance and missed being able to stop it. Looking to the side, almost right on top of them is a lean officer with a gas mask on, all in black with a leather outfit /beneath/ his uniform.
Lucifer	"So this is continued from last night then..." Luci inquires as she feels his touch and moves along with him. Down that stairwell, through the curator who obviously doesn't see them and they continue down. The decor style speaks of the times they've traveled back to and then her ears are filled with the sounds of punched flesh. Things bend then and she can SEE what's happening to Sinister. Watching for a moment or few but then she has to look away. Her hand moves to his arm and she squeezes gently. "What were they wanting? The things you moved from the apartment last night?" She asks it quietly - since she's learned that within the memories some can hear you. With each punch she can hear, she flinches. Sure Lucifer likes a good torture session the same as most evil bastards, but to see it happening to someone they love - that's a whole different ball of wax isn't it? Then, there's other sounds and she looks back to see that people are being flung, choked, and she figures maybe Sinister will get the upper hand. Except there's machine gun fire, and some lean Nazi bastard looking all...evil. Luci turns away again.
Sinister	"About two weeks later," Sinister enfolds her in his arms, doesn't make her look, places a hand over her ear, as if he could shield her from thoughts themselves. "I had blanked that Schmidt brought me in here. Or rather, I suppose, I had hoped that I wouldn't get a trigger." He looks at his bleeding self, healing even as he stares, but not before the black clad man has advanced through their selves in the memory and placed a very sharp knife at Nate's temple. He presses enough to draw blood. "You didn't think you were he only esoteric in Paris did you, mister Essex?" "Well, I've been known to be optomistic on blue moons." "Ha ha. Your stoic black british humour." "I didn't just hide art from them, I hid people that they wanted. And I didn't manage to get them all. This is what began the surrealism of the best and worst of me. I didn't exactly want to get caught up in their crazy eugenics; all that potential being wiped out because of a race!" The scene changes. The flashed horrors of his 'voluntary' service with the camps don't do it justice. He still remembers some of the smells and they're pungeant on the nose, even in memory. Here in a classroom, a gaggle of children quietly eat on chocolate whilst he draws blood using a primative phlebotomy kit. His face is as he is with Lucifer, his attire -not- Nazi, but a kind of uniform anyay, with a long dark blue lab coat. "We call him the kindly Nosferatu." Whispers a little girl to Lucifer, in yiddish. Her tattoo'd arm looks less thin than...some.
Lucifer	"Triggers happen especially when we don't want them or expect them...I don't mind that it happened, I just don't like the memory it triggered." Luci offers. "Which seems shit to say since it's your memory so I can only imagine how reliving it feels." Or maybe she doesn't understand, as Sinister doesn't seem to be too reactive to it. Schmidt. That name will be remembered. Even not looking she can hear the conversation and she wonders. "...Was..Is...he like you?" As Sinister continues to explain, and the memory shifts, she actually looks again. "The Nazi Ideology was pathetic. Hitler was an asshole. In all of my time torturing those deemed unworthy for glory in the afterlife...I was...exceptionally glad when he fell through my gates." Then a little girl is speaking to her in Yiddish, talking about the kindly Nosferatu and she smiles. Kneeling down, reaching to stroke fingers through the girl's hair. "He will treat you well, your kindly Nosferatu. Just listen to him carefully if ever he instructs you to do something." She says, in Yiddish, and then stands up straight again.
Sinister	"Schmidt? No. But Karl Kreuger was," Sinister indicates the side of his head, where that very sharp knife had been. "I took some pleasure in hearing that Schmidt died in his own piss, when Paris was liberated." He glances aside at the gaggle of children and THEY now morph a little bit, even as the kid Luci was speaking to, smiles at her, with her brutally hacked at hair, so short and insanely curly. She probably had ringlets once. Some of them vanish, but some of them now appear as ghostly adults, dispersing all over the world. Not many. Just a few. Not just once either -- the ones unfortunately that were determined -should- live, he rescued. Because he couldn't precisely do much more. But there were terrible things he had to do, to be able to pick and chose the few he could save. How long can a human being stand in one spot before irreparable damage is done? Oh, quite some time. Days upon days. Pain limitations, augmentation experiments that Lucifer might get a kick out of some of them. "Oh yes, I have managed to perfect machine enhancement, allow me to do so on your officers..." ((cue brutally tortured gargles and failed limb replacements)) And then, the scene alters completely, to a nice looking bungalow somewhere in a backwoods town, an old, old lady with pure white hair, admiring her great grand-daughter Kitty Pryde. The mark on her arm is the same as the tattoo on the little girl.
Lucifer	The next round of memory shuffle comes with a mix of things Luci/Lucifer would love and also does not like at all. Military officers tortured and maimed? Love that. Especially if they were Nazi or some other brutal military force. The children? The ones not chosen to live or carry on normal lives. Not so much. Lucifer has his love of torture, surely, but to those deemed that such is necessary. Hitler? Eternal fire. A child? They don't come to Hell. Still as the vision alters again, to the bungalow in the backwoods. The lady with pure white hair and a granddaughter. Kitty Pryde. A familiar face she thinks, but her eyes go to the mark on the grandmother's arm. "You kept in touch with her."
Sinister	"No. She never knew. I never did with any of them. It wasn't appropriate. I watched. But they didn't need to know that." Sinister sniffs. "I fled Auschewitz-Birkenau on the night they allies came. They didn't know I ended a lot of the execution forces either, that they'd left behind to terminate that experiment. But I didn't quite have enough time..." Sinister looks at her now with the nazi scientist outfit on. "You know something? We are going to go and do something somewhere where I have absolutely no memories associated, I swear. But if you still feel palatable to it, the Louvre seems to be entirely christian fantasized." They fade back in, in some poor clerks office, causing a tirade of confused French and a glance that way. Confusion paints on the frenchwoman's face, then blissful ignorance. "You know what I love about renaissance christian art? It's all about the beautiful mostly nude people, artfully swooning at the theological action. I'm pretty sure there weren't cavorting nudists when Saint Michael slew the demon, for example. You might get a kick."
Lucifer	"I see. Perhaps that's fair. In a bit of a creepy sense, but we're creepy creatures." Luci offers with a soft chuckle and then she glances over to Sinister as he promises adventures where his memories won't take up their time. A nod given then to that. "If you so desire to do such a thing, to go where you have no memories associated... we'll just make some of our own." A smile. "But yes, I believe I would still like to see the Lourve." As they fade into that office, she can't help but laugh, even as the French woman who begins to sort of panic and be all confused is soon given a blissful facade. "I suppose we can't say we didn't see that happening, we did sort of pass through several floors..." She tilts her head one way and then the other before looking to Sinister and giving a smile. A two fold thing happens then, they are soon on the top floor of the Lourve in a shadowed corner where blissful ignorance remains - and there's a settling of a calm. Like people may have forgotten a moment in time. "Nope. Nudity stopped once Eve bit the apple...so to see nude art in Christian settings is... quite humorous..." She smiles then. "Shall we?"
Sinister	"Indeed." And it may be observed that a great deal of fun can be had at the louvre, good education opportunities, but one that will forever be a new memory for Sinister as well as Lucifer, is the 'Counting game' -- an homage to Dracula, or rather the Sesame street Count, where when you see semi-nude and/or 'never go higher than the mull of Kintyre, or it's pornography' you say the next number in line. By less than half a gallery, it would be in the region of "Eighteen, Ah AH Ah!" That way at least the kids don't know what you're talking about. There really is a LOT of religions pieces. If it's not religious, it's a wedding, a battle, or a royal portrait. But it's not about the subject matter so much as what they saw infront of them and how it was captured so sweetly or so starkly. Eventually, though, they will end up in the halls of the Great Expressionists, viewing Van Gogh's starry night in person. It is impossible not to feel the cosmic insignificance and ultimate joy in that expression of time and perpetuity in canvas. Expressionism is where Sinister finally completely relaxes.
Lucifer	Luci enjoys the counting game, and remarks every so often on this piece or that. The sexism, the sexiness, just sex in general and how it's so weird that any religion that seems to think certain aspects of sexual natures are disgusting or an abomination and yet their ART is fine. Because it's TASTEFUL. Blech. As they reach the Expressionists, oh, Luci is in love. Munch's 'The Scream', and of course, 'Starry Night' which is where even Luci can tell Sinister seems to completely relax. She enjoys such paintings, and will continue to enjoy the tour as long as they can stand it. Once they've had their fill, Luci will run them to a quiet corner, pause for no one to look and simply teleport them back to the apartment.