EP

[wayward_sun]

The Devil enters from - not his bedroom this time, but Lux, his nightclub.

You can tell from his slightly disheveled appearance and the very loud music the door closes on.

"Hey," he says. "You do move about, Magic Door. Sneaky."
He beams brightly at no one in particular and adds, "But you take me here, so I forgive you."

He ambles over to the bar and orders a nice, stiff drink, because - well - it'd be a waste not to.

Up close, it seems he may have had a close encounter or two with women wearing many different shades of lipstick.
Also, he smells of at least three different colognes. Besides his own.

Busy night at Lux. Busy night.

He takes a sip of his drink and sighs with contentment.


{ooc: post and run - sorry - back after sleep in the Northern hemisphere}

Comments

[i_am_your_host]

What a sight for bored eyes.

Emcee is lounging at the far end of the bar, smoking, drinking red wine, and people watching. And there's just something about watching Lucifer walk in through that door.

He puts his cigarette out and finishes his last mouthful of wine before slinking over to him like a coy alley cat looking for attention. Which he is. And he's not ashamed about that.

Stepping onto a rung on a barstool, he nimbly hoists himself up to sit on the countertop. And he smiles, crossing his legs and leaning forward on his knee. He picks up the scent of several colognes and eyes the lipstick smudges on Lucifer's face with amused approval.

"You've got a bit of red on you," he says, casually rubbing the pad of his thumb over Lucifer's jaw. "I'd wipe it off, but I'll be adding my own to it anyway."

[wayward_sun]

He chuckles.

"I do, don't I? Well, plenty of room for more."

He takes a sip of his drink.
"Been a busy night."

[i_am_your_host]

"By the looks of it, I would concur," he says, eyeing him up and down. "Special occasion, or is it just one of those nights where everyone just happens to think your hotspot is the place to be?"

[wayward_sun]

"The latter. We tend to be busy Friday and Saturday but Thursday is not far behind these days."

He smiles. Brightly.

[i_am_your_host]

"Sounds like business as usual, mmm?" He lounges back on his hands, feeling almost overwhelmed by that smile. It makes his toes curl in his boots.

[wayward_sun]

"People aren't always this enthusiastic," Lucifercsays, straightening the makes of his jacket.

They may have been clutched.
By sweaty hands.

He should have it dry cleaned.

[i_am_your_host]

"Is there a full moon?" he asks, mostly with bemusement. "Or perhaps there's simply something in the air..."

He reaches out to smooth down Lucifer's jacket lapels. Helpfully.

[electro_kinetic]

Noriko gently huffs out the breath she'd taken that was flavored with a bunch of rioting perfumes, nose wrinkling as she swallowed her smoothie. She's a little sensitive to it at the moment.

"You smell like a french whorehouse, dude," she says, looking over in Lucifer's direction--with some difficulty, because she can't swivel that easy with the leg cast. It's purple, with signatures and well-wishes and tiny drawings all over it. Be envious.

[wayward_sun]

"So I do," Lucifer replies with a grin as he turns to look at her.

"Busy night. And I do hate to disappoint the guests."

Then he sees her cast (It is very visible - he's just not terribly attuned to other people) and asks,"What happened to you?"

[electro_kinetic]

"Most people don't mean that as a compliment," she says, shaking her head. Amused, though.

"I got the shit kicked out of me. Four guys got mouthy, threw a bottle at me, and then came at me with a steel bat."

She shrugs, looking down at the cast. It's set now, three of the four are dealing with retinal burns and most likely nerve damage. (She's taken to carrying several colors of sharpie markers in her pockets now, though.)

[wayward_sun]

"They don't?"
He seems genuinely surprised by this new bit of info.

And then he frowns. "That's not fair. I don't care if you can do scary shit, that's just not on."

Again. He seems genuinely affronted by this.

"I hope they got their come-uppence."

[electro_kinetic]

She shrugs, one hand lifting in a 'what-can-you-do' gesture.

"Retinal burns and temporary blindness, and probably less temporary nerve damage...I hope so too," she says. But she's pretty sure they'll heal as much as they're going to in less than six months.

She is not happy about the timeline for her own injury.

[wayward_sun]

"Yes, well, I'm not sure that's enough," Lucifer says, almost angrily. "They should be punished properly for what they've done. Harshly."

[mogget_cat]

It's just that kind of night, isn't it?

The bar door opens to a street full of people and color and music, a great mass of humanity and alcohol and sweat, drinking and dancing and laughter. A creature shaped generally like a young human male stumbles in. His white hair is mussed, and there are a couple of brightly-colored feathers that have gotten stuck in it at odd angles. The pale skin of his face has been painted with smoky black, leaving the shape of a skull framing his cheeks and eyes and mouth. His once-pristine white clothes are rumpled, but in that particular way that indicates it was absolutely worth the rumpling. The only color to him are the many strings of green and gold plastic beads around his neck and the bright green of his eyes.

He looks delighted, finding himself in Milliways, and closes the door behind him. Taking a loose-limbed seat at the bar, he leans on the counter. "Atlantean, dear Bar. Just the one glass."

He notices the mix of colognes, and looks over at the fellow sitting at a nearby seat. The variety of lipstick prints on him makes the albino young man - as someone whose pale skin sometimes looks too much like a blank canvas for some people to resist doing the same, in party-type situations - grin.

"It's just that kind of night, isn't it?"

The best kind.

[wayward_sun]

Lucifer looks over with an answering grin.

"It is, isn't it? Mardi Gras?"

He's handsome, with dark, sparkling eyes.

And beneath that handsome face is a vastness of red and fury and ash-filled chasms.

[mogget_cat]

It's a good look! Both looks!

Yrael himself presents as an albino young man, handsome enough with somewhat angular features and a musician's deft hands, though his eyes are the bright green of new spring leaves, bisected down the middle by vertical pupils.

He is also a being of bright white light and roiling, chaotic, corrosive force, but one likes to look nice for parties.

"The warm-up for Mardi Gras," he replies, still able to be astounded by his chosen city's fierce vitality. "The crewes have already started their multiple nightly parades, but the best is still yet to come."

[wayward_sun]

"Ah yes. It's always nice with people who appreciates a proper build-up to a party," Lucifer agrees.

Interesting eyes. Interesting being behind the eyes.

He smiles. Widely.
"Lucifer Morningstar. Hello."

[mogget_cat]

"And no one does a party like New Orleans," the Bright Shiner agrees, chuckling. He plucks one of the feathers out of his hair, smirks, and flicks it away. "They hardly need a ghost of a reason to have a party, and a party just occurs. Spanning several streets, at least."

He loves his city very much.

"Hello, Lucifer Morningstar," he greets him with a toothy grin. "Yrael."

[wayward_sun]

"Parties for no reason are the best parties," Lucifer replies and takes a sip of his drink.

[quick_clean_pure]

Graverobber's sitting by the bar, taking some time to relax and decompress after the whole fucked-up shit in the woods. He's still got bits of bark and leaves stuck to his coat, though he's content to not worry about that for the moment.

He glances over at Lucifer when he walks in and spots the lipstick marks. "Looks like you're having a fun day," he says, grinning slightly before sipping his beer.

[wayward_sun]

"Keep the customers happy," Lucifer sing-songs.

"And myself."

Of course.

"Have you taken up outdoor exercise?"

[quick_clean_pure]

"Sure seems it," he says with a small laugh. At the second part, he shakes his head, grimacing slightly. "Not exactly. Had to go running around the woods for a while and I just got back."

[wayward_sun]

"Had to? Do they make people do that?"

He may sound slightly alarmed at the idea.

[quick_clean_pure]

"Not exactly," he says, catching the alarm. "Nobody, like, physically dragged me into the woods or anything. A bunch of little bastards were running around stealing stuff from people, and they took my zydrate gun. I had to go into the woods to try to get it back."

[wayward_sun]

"Really? Thieves? Hete?"

Honestly. Have people no shame?

(The answer is no.)