Owner	Pose
Sinister	Day two of the experiment appeared to have been mostly a success. Day three, blood supplies of the fresh sort are on the tail-end, but the synthetic blood was delivered to Lux for later. Hopefully, Tru Blood two-point-oh will actually do the job. One can hope, at least. This evening is all about testing limits. Bench press, dead lift, endurance and possibly even a measure of capacity to take a hit. After all, death stole a healing factor, but just how difficult is it to make damage stick? Some of that will have to be in controlled circumstance, but taking a licking and keeping on ticking, that's rather more organic. So, after breakfast-- an invite to spar. TO go to town just a little bit, as it pays to keep that kind of thing fresh. You never know when someone's going to poke where they shouldn't and make a body mad. Vamp Sin, in sweats and a string vest, is currently wrapping his fists in bandage tape and limbering up. Warming up is a foolish thing to do when you can't 'warm' anything, but tendons can still complain, if they get wrenched quicker than you can think. This private gym is by the wharf, not the nicest part of Melville, but it does mean one thing: storage units aplenty and after dark, not a whole lot of people about. It has that iron clad feel of the industrial and a few security guards patrolling it, but that's about all.
Lucifer	The successes so far have been a wonderous thing. Lucifer is learning a lot, and vicariously through Sinister is also likely learning a bit more about Vlad's life - perhaps even a glimpse into what the beginnings were like for the Vampire Lord. All things aside, the delivery of the synthetic blood is being kept in a place where it can be stored safely and then Lucifer is intrigued by Sinister's want to test his body's limitations. The invite to spar is surely accepted and off they go to a little known spot where such spars can take place without a lot of eyes. While Sinister warms up - Lucifer does as well. He's in light denims, flex footwear, and a tank top - all black. He doesn't wrap his hands - sees no reason to - but does stretch and get himself as limber as he can. Though a curiosity strikes him, and amuses him as well, as he asks - "So, are there any sort of rules to abide by for this endeavor?"
Sinister	Sinister truthfully probably doesn't need to wrap his hands, but some things are habit. And it will improve grip when it comes to such things as the dead-lift and press. He's tied his hair back also, looping the long hair so there's a kind of controlled doubled-over ponytail thing going on. Of note, the equipment in here is also rather more industrial than usual; reinforced chains and bags, with pound-per-square-inch sensors on the equipment at least, all hooked up to his laptop to record it all. He wouldn't be himself, if it was not thoroughly and properly documented, now would he? "Hmm. A good question, I think. Both of us are quite capable of fighting dirty if we want to, but I wager it probably isn't prudent to take cheap shots, simply because I'm not sure what that might do to our temperaments in the moment. We should test with fists, blunt force trauma weapons, piercing and projectile, at least on me. Afterwards. Do you have any notion that you want to put forward to spice it up a bit?" Red eyes glint a little as he asks, lips quirking wry, if fleetingly.
Lucifer	"Alright. No fighting dirty. I can handle that..." Lucifer offers and then seems to think on things a moment. "Does this mean I can stab you with my sword?" He grins and then shakes his head. "Kidding. While Vlad has told me many times that it's the faith and not the item that causes harm...I'm sure he's never been struck with a celestial item... probably not best to test that with you..." There's another grin and then a moment more taken to think on things again. "I really have nothing coming to mind to spice things up a bit. Perhaps something will come to mind while we're sparring. Though he catches that wry quirk of lips for the brief moment they occur and wonder if he didn't catch a subtle hint somewhere. Likely because he's more concerned over not truly hurting his love.
Sinister	"Indeed, Oh, that's something I ought to do too, that whole iconography issue... later. I don't know very many profoundly religious people with actual faith and I have a feeling you wouldn't be very good at successfully abjuring. Your heart wouldn't be in it..." Sinister chuckles, moving to the very center of the large space and after a few bounces on the spot, assuming a combat ready stance. He doesn't wait for Lucifer to engage him though, but also doesn't immediately go on the offensive. Rather, he starts with a series of kata -- from the looks of it, a mixture of Taikwon do and Krav Maga and very quick (though not inhumanly so) one two punches, kicks, leap down-strike, etcetera. It's quite graceful to watch, in truth. "Getting a feeling for how this body works, is interesting. It obeys mechanics, but it's a..." thrust, elbow blow, turn kick, palmthrust "...nominal obedience to limitations."
Lucifer	"Maybe try to enter a Church on Sunday morning? I doubt everyone there truly holds faith but surely enough to make you feel *something*..." Lucifer offers and then shrugs. "I also know that garlic isn't a thing either. Which makes sense...and I forget what he said about holy water. Might be the same as other religious artefacts." He thinks, and then he moves to the large space as well, watching Sinister for a moment, easily stepping back from the katas. He's still on the defensive though while listening as Sinister comments on the mechanics of form. "Maybe because the body knows it doesn't have many limits but something in your mind tries to stop it anyway?" If he understood that correctly anyhow. Shift, block, leg sweet, palm thrust.
Sinister	"Probably. The mind doesn't trust what the body already knows," Sinister does a back flip arabesque, landing with a little bump-jump and puts one leg backwards, turning attention on Lucifer. "This I think, is going to be interesting. And good idea. Maybe evensong though, as I feel conflagration may otherwise be an issue." He inclines his head to his lover, then starts with a series of easy to counter movements; it's more about the touch and countertouch than the impact of blows. Testing himself out against a currently unknown combattant, these initial steps of the dance are always about guaging who you face. "I tought myself to fight, you know. Oh, I could swing a punch, but it wasn't what you'd call very finessed. I remember a few times of giving myself a boxer's fracture or two, in the early days and embarassingly, cussing up a blue storm. I do not like doing that..." all the while, he watches how Lucifer moves, the flexibility, limber limbs and quick feet. "...Tutoring never quite seemed to be up to snuff. Probably due to my lack of patience with cumbersome methodology."
Lucifer	"I could go with you. Then we'd really cause a stir..." Lucifer offers. He's the one who really *can* make Holy Water boil-sizzle just by touching it. A priest might have a hard time actually talking to his flock. There are so many things the Devil has done just to piss his father off at times. Then the true, albeit light, fisticuffs begin. Lucifer easily dodges and blocks - though he tries to be as 'unlike himself' as possible. Light on his feet, no angel stuff..that sort of thing. If Lucifer is anything, he is limber but also built. There's a surprising wall of muscle beneath the thin frame he has. "I learned to fight. All different styles. Though nothing beats a good bar brawl." He offers, going in for a couple swift punches - left, right, right - and then bounces back a bit. "I should start one again soon... it's been a long while..." And it might be that Lucifer is itching for a good fight. "Though I can see why you wouldn't tutor fighting... you expect results where people just give you half-assed attempts."
Sinister	Sinister nods to that last. "And insist on a slow learning curve, which honestly I've never been terribly good with. I learn at my own pace, which..." right, left, left, countering the punches with slaps of the palm, he grins at the contained strength "...tends to be quicker than other people anticipate." Wicked chuckle "I bet it would be quite the performance, watching you in a church full of parishioners..." And then a more earnest assault. Quicker, a little harder and it ramps up quickly. It soon becomes obvious what the advantage of undeath is; no fatigue poisons. Sinister just doesn't seem to tire, even if he's not hitting out of his ballpark, or moving with much more than he usually does. He is agile, exceptionally strong and durable, but he was before. Now? He just doesn't stop. At one point, he actively catches a punch from Lucifer and is driven back by it, but holds the fist to account. What /does/ exertion look like on tall dark and handsome? It appears to look like just mussed up, on tall pale and Sinister.
Lucifer	"Saturday Mass, we'll have a good time..." Lucifer offers with a chuckle. Then comes that more earnest assault and Lucifer takes note that Sinister doesn't really stop. Just keeps going and going like his tank never gets empty. Of course his own tank never would either, mostly, except he's got the mortal shell that does have a few limits. Strong and agile yes, can go forever? Likely not. Though he does get that one decent punch in, but the fist is held after. Lucifer, exerted, looks a little on the sweatier side, hair mussed, muscles tense...like he's holding on but not to much.
Sinister	Sinister's hands around the caught fist relax a little, a nod given as he pulls his grip away. His hands are flexed, his biceps and triceps also, with a contra exercize or two; patting various body parts, he shakes his head. "I am not tired," he informs, shaking his head with a mild sense of wonder. "Od's teeth, but that would be devastating, on a battlefield. Not to mention if it was actual battle, teeth would be involved... I don't think I'd stop until I was literally unable to move, for one reason or another." Glancing up and down the devil, he settles on the mussy hair. "And you, my dearest, look mildly winded. I think in future times, we should practice this again, but with a mind to see how we can fight as a pair." He holds his hand out to the side and a bottle of water zooms over, is handed to his companion. "Care to see what damage you can do with a weapon or two? Shoot your load, stab me with your sword, bludgeon me with your truncheon?" Flutterlashes.
Lucifer	Lucifer opens his mouth and closes it again at that last bit that Sinister suggests. Nope. He is not taking the bait. Not by a long shot. He does grin, however, and gives a single shrug of a shoulder. His sword, he likely shouldn't be using it against a vampire and yet... He extends his right hand and tendrils of hellfire shoot up from the ground, then what looks like molten lava jumps with it and begins to spin and form into the very rough form of a sword. It becomes tighter and tighter, until it all suddenly hardens into a sword of silver hilt and obsidian blade. Lucifer's eyes glow of hellfire as well and that grin does NOT leave his face. "You sure THIS is what you want? I can surely strike you, but I almost fear what might happen if I do... still... would likely be really lovely for your instruments and data recording..." He steps forward some, dragging the tip of the blade against the ground so that it sparks several times until the blade alights with fire. "Or...I could pull out something more conventional if so desired..."
Sinister	Sinister's eyes dart to the formation of fire that becomes more, then up to eyes that have caught the flame. He should be intimidated and usually, that sort of thing does exactly what it's intended to do, to mortals. It governs Lucifer, from time to time, Nathaniel. You should know this. You DO know this. A billion years and more of habit are not broken easily. For the most fleeting of moments, he looks like he's second guessing, wavering. Then his lips skin from his teeth and his fangs drop sloooooowly, his left arm raised and braced -- the skin metamorphoses, broadens out, lengthens downward and upward, foreshortening the limb but it takes on a blackened silver edge that rushes up his arm and coats his shoulder, forming plates. He just turned his arm into a hardened shield and his shoulder into a pauldron, made out of his own flesh. Right hand joins left in forming a brace, his eyes on the devil's own. THen there's a nod. Just that. Hit me with it, my love. I will never know, until you do. Until I am subjected.
Lucifer	Lucifer watches for the moment as Sinister seems to falter, seems to question things in his mind. He knows the man's mind is made up when he brings his left arm to form a shield, his right a pauldron. There's a grin. "Mmn, still so many things to learn about you, my love..." He offers, eyes still glowing, and for a moment he seems to hesitate himself. Yet then...then...he takes a step, another, drawing his blade up and striking down in true form of someone who has struck down many a soul in their lifetime. He doesn't feel as though he'll actually hit Sinister, but there is plenty of force behind that swing, of a Devil's nature of course.
Sinister	Fair it is, to say that that blow is damaging. There is a hiss and a grunt from Sinister, as flame and obsidian strike bio-steel tempered by his knowledge of science. He gives to the blow a little, which lessens its impact slightly and there is a flash of the bloody glow in his gaze as its impacts are felt; what visually has occured is a HUGE-ass dent in the shield, with a nice long line where the edge of the blade hit and weirdly... blistering from the edge outward. Steel of course, does not blister. But them's the blows when a physical mutation cannot quite cope with a supernatural weakness. It compensates halfway. He skitters back with a VOOM, enough to get distance enough to look at the surface of the shield, shaking the arm and therefore the shield as if it was a stinging blow on his hand -- the shaking turns the limb back into a limb, with a long and blistening gouge taken out of it, blackening before the eye. He concentrates, jaw dropping open in an loud hiss and the red in his gaze gets brighter, glowing fleeting, but the injury heals. "Point of fact: I don't think it mattered whether that was hellfire or not, flame -hurts- and it's stubborn to heal. Come at me with the hilt, please. I don't want to be ravenous."
Lucifer	The sword's tip is pressed against the ground a moment and Lucifer watches Sinister for the lingering moment after. A hint of concern touches him as the shield becomes an arm again with that blistering wound healing but not without a touch of effort from Vampire Sinister. "I suppose hellfire or not that hurt, but I am also unsure if it was a bit worse because of the hellfire." He offers, swinging the sword around with ease while listening to his lover further. At the request that he come at Sinister with the hilt, he shakes his head. "No, my love. The hilt is made of silver...which is quite detremental to the vampire... so with THIS hilt...I shall not." He then raises the sword and slams it into the ground. It shatters into pieces, which scatter about, melt and rejoin the world below. "Perhaps we can come up with another idea..."
Sinister	Sinister gestures to the equipment and the area where his computer is house, far and away from the general impact. A 45 calibre Glock flies from its resting place somewhere nearby end over end and hovers nearby Lucifer. There's a look to the gun and then to Lucifer with a shrug and a fleeting, crooked smile, before he unloads the entire clip into himself by telekinesis as he advances toward the Devil. Each impact rocks his body, entry wounds rather small, exit wounds smaller than they have a right to be, given that it's a .45 calibre, but behind him is a red mist nevertheless. By the time he's reached Lucifer, the clip is empty and the wounds are healing, but he looks rather more keen in the hunger department. The front of his shirt is shaken and the spent bullets fall down his back. "I feel that was less productive than it could have been. Bullets are messy. I actually think we can probably dispense with blunt force trauma. I suspect it will do virtually nothing to me. Ideas? Also, I am going to need to feed, perhaps on one of those security guards..." His head swings around, staring at the doorway out with a rather less human aspect.
Lucifer	When the gun begins to fire on it's own and those bullets enter and exit Sinister as he walks closer and closer...Lucifer actually turns away. He can't watch it, even if he knows Sinister will survive, heal. That doesn't matter. Something is hurting his lover and he can do nothing to stop it really. Perhaps that was where this all failed. He can't bring himself to really hurt Sinister, and the fact that he did in some way with his sword sort of...twisted him. The hellfire is gone from his eyes and as Sinister speaks, Lucifer turns to listen to him. "No ideas really. I can't think of anything...mostly because I can't..." He flits a hand and then takes a slow breath. "You know if you need, I'm here... unless you simply don't want to take from me..." A chuckle then. "I'm sure the security guard has more than enough of a supply to satisfy." A pause, a thought. "I am sorry I failed in helping you here."
Sinister	Sinister tilts his head sharp and sudden at a birdlike angle, then shakes his head, just the once. The computer over there has all kinds of readings that he can pore over later, extrapolate, cogitate the ramifications of and therefore when the hands on is being conducted remotely, he reaches out to take Lucifer's chin, angling it up a little to a proud angle, filled with a defiance that his partner might not be currently feeling. "You didn't. Why would you think that you did?" Oh, for all kinds of twisted reasons, none of which are much of a nevermind in the moment, eh? "I trust you. I should trust you more, as you know yourself. I just... worry because I fed on you yesterday and it was not an insignificant amount. Occasionally my brain glitches on what you're capable of enduring. Like yours is doing now. With me. I should tell you this..." he leans down to the devil's ear. "I feel no pain, unless I want to. I can control that aspect of myself, also."
Lucifer	"If I didn't think I could handle another such feeding, I would not suggest it..." Lucifer says this much and then looks back to where the guards pace. "It is up to you, ultimately, however..." Then there's a shiver at those words whispered into his ear. "I actually recall you telling me this perhaps, at some point...you reacted to the hit taken by the blade and I forgot that you probably intended such." This offered and then he turns his head to steal a kiss. "...So, guard or shall we head home to help ease your hunger?"
Sinister	"I am not shy," a kiss stolen, then a neck taken willingly. "We all forget the little things. I will try not to forget them, when I can." This could so easily be an addiction. It is already an obsession, but who in this moment... even cares? Take us home, Morningstar.