milliways_bar | (no subject)

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A white-and-black bird strides in through the front door, followed immediately by a somewhat harried-looking gentleman in a crisp and spotless white linen kilt. He picks up the bird and looks around with mild surprise. Oh! Hm! This place! It's been...a thousand years or so. Hmm.

He adjusts his clothing to something a little more 2nd-or-3rd-millennium-CE, but decides to keep the human look for now. And, with a sigh, decides to keep the ibis tucked firmly under one arm, until he sets it on a bar stool and tells it to sit nicely while he orders a glass of wine.

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Lucifer- who has just ordered a nice, large Scotch for himself - looks at the bird with a bemused expression.

Tall, handsome, very pointedly not in possession of wings.

The ibis, sitting compactly on its stool, regards him a moment and then grunts and tucks its bill under its wing. Ibises are awkward-looking when they sit, and this doesn't really make it any less so. But the person with the ibis, when he has finished greeting the Bar and giving her one of his bracelets as an offering for her kindness (or maybe he's just paying for his drink), turns and gives Lucifer a calm smile.

"Yes, hello. Hello."

"Hello."
Smiling charmingly.

"Is it your bird?"

"Yes, she is now." Djehuty sighs a bit, and then scritches the ruffle of feathers where the bird's bald black neck meets its body. "She is newly arrived, and wandered, and led me here. Where I have not been for some time."

He cocks his head to the side, a bit bird-like himself, and regards Lucifer. "We have not met."

"We have not," Lucifer agrees. "I'm Lucifer Morningstar." He offers his hand.

Djehuty doesn't shake, but he smiles politely and inclines his head a bit. "I am Djehuty, Scribe of Ma'at. I have been acquainted with a few Morningstars."

And what sort is this? He doesn't look like a Canaanite Attar, the Morningstar Djehuty is most familiar with; he could perhaps be a Christian Satan.

"This place," Lucifer sighs. But whether it's the appearance of an Egyptian deity or the idea of many Morningstars is hard to tell.

"I used to run Hell but I quit."

"Ah." There's a distinct lack of enthusiasm in that ah. But he's still smiling politely. "I have read, here, of some of the beliefs Christians will develop; it is all still in my future."

Yay. Monotheists. "May I ask what led you to abandon your post?"

((LOLOL let's try this with the right account shall we?))

"If Dad wants a Hell, he can go run it himself. I refuse to have my entire existence micro-managed by a power hungry egomaniac."

So there.

The ibis lifts her head again from under her wing and stares at him unblinking, and Djehuty looks faintly bemused. "Oh my! Then--may I ask--what do you do now?"

Edited 2018-01-18 18:40 (UTC)

"I own a night club. In L.A."

He takes a sip of his drink.

"A human city." Just to clarify.

"Yes, in California."

Well. Hmm.

"That is...a most unusual approach. I have not yet met any deities who own night clubs. Is it--satisfactory?"

"Oh yes. Very much so. I cannot recommend it enough. I mean, if you like dancing and sex and drinking and that sort of thing."

He smiles.

"I play the piano there occasionally. But mostly I just - mingle."

And drink. And has sex. And -

Djehuty has to smile a little. "All very popular pastimes! I do wonder, in some thousand years or so, where I will find myself. How did you come to find your night club?"

Really, what do retired gods do?

Edited 2018-01-18 20:18 (UTC)

"Oh, I spent a little while looking at properties. And then I put down a good offer, pulled a few strings and hepto presto."

He holds out his hands.
"It's really quite easy."

"Yes, but..." Djehuty isn't altogether sure he knows how to do something as mundane as purchase a property under a human guise. "I suppose," he says cautiously, "that, having been a master of an afterlife, a hell, you would have learned a fair amount about night clubs? From, ah, the dead?"

"Oh yes. And I seem to have a natural talent for that sort of thing."

He smiles. And there's a sharp edge to that smile. "Beats torturing people and being blamed for all their stupid mistakes."

"Ye-es...but, if you were not suited to that role, how did you come to be in it?" This is perplexing, and a little distressing; but also quite interesting.

"Because Dad is an egicentricak maniac," Lucifer says and takes a sip of his drink.

"And- there was the whole rebellion thing."

Djehuty sips his wine and considers this; he's about to ask Bar for something to eat but she's ahead of him and there's already a bowl of dates and apple slices at hand.

"...My understanding," he says eventually, thinking, "based only on what I have read, so I may be very mistaken, is that in most universes, Lucifer was cast from Heaven following a rebellion. Is that altogether different from your history?"

Edited 2018-01-19 20:28 (UTC)

"He kicked me out. Threw me down into Hell where I would get to spend eternity making sure dead humans got the punishment they felt they deserved."

"Ah. And now you have--thrown off that post assigned to you? Forgive me the many questions: please, do not let me be rude. But I have never met a deity who has chosen such a life as yours!"

"No, I can imagine. Choice and individuality isn't really a big deal in those circles, is it?"

He shrugs.

"I just want to make my own decisions."

Cassian's deciding on some dinner when he sees the man and bird. He tries to remember if he's met the man before, his face seems familiar though his clothing isn't, "Will your bird stay?"

His posture is stiff as his rib is doing a little better but still hurts.

"Oh, yes, she will stay, she will do as I ask her." Right, Ibis? Of course she will! "She is an excellent ibis, if new at her post."

The mun doesn't think Djehuty and Cassian have met but tbh she's a little hazy on that, so let's say their faces look familiar!

(OOC: I think they met during AU week when they were both different versions of themselves.)

"An ibis, what's her post?" He didn't think birds had posts.

((oooh, you're right! :D ))

"Ah, hm, well, she was sent to me, bearing a prayer, and now she is of my household." It's a household with a lot of ibises.

Edited 2018-01-19 20:25 (UTC)

"You're a priest?"

Cassian now knows he doesn't have all the pieces of who this man is, his clothing does seem like a priest might wear it.

"Well--indeed at times--" He clears his throat. "I am Djehuty: the Scribe of Ma'at, among other duties; I lead the dead before her and record the judgments; I uphold her laws."

But enough about him! "And may I ask your name, sir?"

His food arrives and Cassian's able to hide a little of his surprise when he takes a drink, because laws and judgements, that's impressive,

"Cassian Andor."

"I say, what kind of animal is that?" Baze says, finishing off the last vestiges of minestrone soup at the bar.

"I mean, I know it's a bird, but um, it's an Earth bird, right?"

"An ibis," he replies cheerfully. "Yes, indeed, an Earth bird; an Egyptian bird, though now she is a bird of the afterlife. She is quite safe, quite friendly."

The bird is making a croaking grunting sound that doesn't entirely radiate friendliness, but it's not unfriendly either.

"Oh, I know someone from Egypt," Baze says, just as cheerfully. He indulges in his tea.

"What do you mean by a bird of the afterlife?"

"Do you!" Djehuty hasn't met anyone here from Egypt; his first response is pleased excitement, but then he remembers the Milliwaysness of everything here. Someone could be from Egypt but not from at all the sort of Egypt he knows.

"And--hm, well, she is no longer a living bird in the living world. She was sent to me to carry a prayer."

"Yes, a bird-headed god named Djehuty," Baze says, beaming at the stranger-who-isn't-one.

"Do you know him? And do you often receive prayers from dead birds? That... Sounds like the purview of a god."

"Oh! I am Djehuty!" He presses a hand to his face, embarrassed (but not as embarrassed as the mun who totally forgot they had met, dammit). "I am Djehuty, usually appearing here in such a form as you describe, and not this one, but--I have not been here in a very many years, and--and I had forgotten our meeting."

Oh, dear. Djehuty never forgets things. Except when he does. "But yes, I do often receive prayers from dead birds."

"Oh, hello! How many years? I don't blame you at all for forgetting! It was a brief meeting," Baze says, sitting up straighter and beaming at the usually-bird-headed god.

"Oh, surely at least a thousand?" He tilts his head to the side a moment, thinking. "Yes, one thousand and three years, give or take some months."

He reaches out and gives the ibis a little head-rub. "May I ask, how long has it been here?"

"A thousand years?" Baze says, boggling. His jaw drops, and his eyes widen.

"No wonder you forgot! I would have forgotten everything about the bar in a thousand years! It's been several months since we met. Christmas came, as did a fire demon. And a plague where everyone sneezed glitter."

"I do not like to forget people..." Ah, well. It is not as if he has forgotten someone whose judgment was recorded. That would be distressing. Will that day come?

He blinks, distracted from that thought by Baze's report. "...Glitter?"

"Yeah!" Baze says, as cheerful as he ever is in heaven.

"Glitter is tiny specks of shiny material. It gets everywhere and clings to everything. The bar was a total mess for a long time. We sneezed up all sorts of colors."

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