fandomtownies | The Devil's Nest, Sunday Night

Drink! But only if you have a valid I.D.

Wilson had a valid I.D. and a medical journal. He had no desire to sit in an empty apartment and read said journal so had come down to get his daily glare and hopefully a scotch!

Mazikeen fulfilled his hopes and gave Wilson her best glare, one promising horrible, horrible things if he didn't order quickly.

Wilson responded with his best 'eep' expression and then smiled brightly and asked for his scotch.

"Scotch? Neat, two fingers....please?"

He'd given up hoping for a tiny umbrella. At this point he was happy not to get his scotch with a side of nightshade.

The drink was placed on the bar in front of him with more force than strictly necessary. No umbrella still, but no nightshade either.

There had been a lecture about poisoning customers already.

Sliding the appropriate payment -and tip!- across the bar, Wilson picked up his glass.

"Thank you." He said with a smile, then headed off towards the lounge.

Clark wasn't normally a nightclub type of guy, but the trolls outside made him curious, in a morbid sort of way. What kind of person celebrated killing people like that?

In any case, here he was, sitting at the bar.

Mazikeen stood across from Clark, arms crossed over her chest, impatiently waiting for his order.

"Gin and tonic please." Clark said pleasantly.

Mazikeen turned to make the drink, snarling silently as she worked. The finished drink was placed in front of Clark, umbrella-less.

Clark was slightly put off by the bar-tender's obvious low spirits, but thanked her politely anyway and left a decent tip.

Dance! But only if you want to.

Sit! But only if you really must.

Lucifer was sitting, because it was his club and he didn't need to explain himself to anyone.

At some point, the poor little gingerbread man made his way into another big room, and took a seat. This seat might have been just next to Lucifer's foot.

Lucifer ignored the small living pastry because, honestly, what self respecting supernatural power wanted to acknowledge a gingerbread man sitting next to them?

The gingerbread man was completely okay with that, and decided he could just stay here for a while. Occasionally, he bopped his head to the music.

Carrying his scotch in one hand, journal in the other Wilson made his way back to the lounge area.

Honestly, he wasn't going to say anything but the gingerbread man sitting next to the devil was enough to cause anyone to stop and do a double take.

"Buh?"

Lucifer finally spared a glance down toward his foot. Yes, the gingerbread man was still there.

"Stranger than the demonic ducks?" He asked, carefully moving his foot so as to not touch the little cookie-man.

Standing there, pointing at said gingerbread man with the hand holding the scotch, Wilson pursed his lips and then slowly nodded.

"I'm going to have to go with...yes, not the gingerbread man himself...er...itself but the fact that it's hanging out with you."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the gingerbread man before nodding in assent. "Yes, I suppose that could be considered odd."

He had no issue with it being in the club. It was quiet and did nothing worthy of gaining his displeasure, something that placed it above most of the inhabitants of the town.

Now now...Wilson was behaving himself...except for that small kerfuffle with Mazikeen, which sort of stemmed simply from the fact that Wilson existed.

"Not something I can say I expected to see...ever. Though, in this town you'd think I'd be used to..." Wilson's voice suddenly trailed off as he racked his brain trying to remember if Phale had made any gingerbread men before heading out, who even now might be making a break for it out of the freezer back at MCA #4.

Scotch sip!

Taking a seat, Wilson decided to keep an eye on the gingerbread man.

Wilson did behave himself. Most of the time. Other than that one overly dramatic display in the park, he was surprisingly not annoying.

Lucifer blinked slowly when Wilson took a seat. Well, that certainly wasn't going to make Mazikeen like the human. "I met one of your colleagues the other night," Lucifer said, a smile slowly forming on his face.

Like she would be any too happy about the territorial bench battle?

Sitting back in the chair, Wilson crossed his ankles and sipped his scotch.

"One of my colleagues?" He asked looking a little curious. "I wouldn't have thought you'd need the clinic's services?"

It was his bench!

Lucifer shook his head, still grinning. "No, one of your fellow teachers. A Mr. Winchester, I believe."

Was not! Neener!

Given what Wilson knew about John Winchester, the young doctor's eyebrows went up into his hairline.

"And is he still alive?"

Was too, times infinity.

Lucifer chuckled. "If I truly believed he could do something he wouldn't be."

[[ooc: because proof-reading is my friend]]

Was not, times infinity squared.

"Interesting." Wilson said with a soft whistle, his expression becoming slightly troubled as he leaned an elbow on the arm of the chair.

"Though, I suppose you pressence really does bring up a lot of questions." He murmured, looking distracted.

[ooc: I'd feared that LJ had had a snack!]

Well played Wilson, well played.

"Such as?" He asked, curious as to what the human thought about him being in Fandom.

[[ooc: no, just the english language hating me]]

Taking a sip of his scotch, Wilson didn't rush in to an answer, rather he slid his finger lightly along the rim of the scotch glass in a pensive manner.

"In speaking with John Winchester, I imagine you learned that some of us have had dealings with demons? Speaking from my own personal experience, it's hard reconciling the creatures who mindlessly seek only to rend us mortals limb from limb for the fun of it, to you."

That sounded like a very accurate description of most of the denizens of Hell.

"I'm not a demon," Lucifer replied, as if that should have been obvious. "I was and still am an angel. Humans have a tendency to forget that fact."

"Yes, they do." Wilson admitted.

"But you are the ruler of Hell and as such it's hard to seperate you from those who act in your name."

Lifting the scotch for a sip, Wilson set it back down and went back to coaxing the high chiming music from it with the finger along the rim dance.

"All the players in this chess match, it gets very confusing and though you lay claim to retirement, there is still the fact that in the fight to survive, many of us have to stay one step ahead of the hounds you released upon us." His voice was quiet, not particularly judgemental or defensive.

"I released nothing upon you," Lucifer replied, a touch of venom seeping into his voice. "The actions of demons are not at my command, they do what is in their nature and destroy all they see."

He leaned back in his seat, raising his head proudly. "Just as I follow my nature."

"Ah." Wilson said softly, sitting forward, dark eyes curious.

"But see, they claim their actions in your name. And some of them are very specific in their targeting."

Reaching up, Wilson shifted his shirt to the side, exposing the scar he carried from where the lead demon's pick axe had torn into his shoulder earlier that fall. Releasing his shirt, the young doctor picked his scotch back up and sat back.

"It makes it hard to remember that you're an angel, harder still when we're called upon to put our faith in Celestial beings who ultimately do not give a damn about us. It's going to make some people around here a bit hostile."

There was a brief flash of anger at the thought of demons attacking here in his name.

"Do you blame HIM for those who kill in HIS name?"

"I sometimes, wonder about it." Wilson admitted. "Looking back over the history of mankind, it seems that our conflicts root back to misunderstandings over what people claim are HIS wishes. Some of our greatest attrocities and intolerances are voiced in HIS name and...it confuses me that it's allowed."

Looking down at his almost empty scotch, Wilson finished it off and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"But maybe I'm not meant to understand. Maybe that's where the idea of having faith in myself and in the choices I've made off the tools held out to me by HIM and HIS comes in to play."

Giving Lucifer a quiet, slightly lopsided smile, Wilson tipped the scotch glass towards him.

"However, I can only speak for myself and as you may have noticed, I don't blame you for the actions of the demons who have tried and who continue to try to kill me. And a lot of people would call me a damn fool for thinking that way."

Moments like this made up for the emotional dramatics that humans were so fond of engaging in.

"Let them think that. Better to be thought a fool than to truly be one."

After a brief ponder, Wilson gave his head a slight tilt in acknowledgement of the devil's words.

"Very true. I suppose time will bear me out one way or the other."

Drumming his fingers along the glass, Wilson smiled and nodded towards the cookie.

"Anyway, I should probably leave you and your VIP guest, to your evening."

I like exclamation points!

!!!!!!

*Leaves some*

Yay!!!1one

!!!!!oneoneeleven.

The Devil's Nest, Sunday Night

The Bar

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The Dance floor

The Lounge

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OOC

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