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The Devil's Nest, Friday Night

"How about some cliche piano classics tonight, eh?" Lucifer called, grinning.

He took a big sip of his drink, considered the people within the club, and started in on Piano Man.

The Devil was in a decent mood tonight, and the Nest was open.

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Mm, booze.

Lucifer's in a singing mood tonight.

Between songs or afterwards.

The Eric Zone.

Eric was in the Eric Zone angrily protesting a shipping order into the phone. "Why the fuck would I have ordered banana liqueur? That's disgusting."

Edited 2020-08-14 16:37 (UTC)

"Oh, that's mine," Lucifer called, sticking his head through the doorway.

"That's disgusting," Eric repeated.

"Don't you ever just wake up some morning and realize you have no idea what a banana split tastes like if it's made entirely of alcohol?" Lucifer asked, unfazed.

"No," Eric said, "but I did order a bottle of salmon vodka out of a sick sense of curiosity."

"I'm trying to picture what that would taste like," Lucifer said slowly, "It's not happening."

"Liquified smoked salmon," Eric aid. "I made Magnus try it."

"Is he still alive?" Lucifer inquired. Curiously, mostly.

"He was when he left the bar, at which point he isn't our lawsuit," Eric said. "Want to try it? We have a ton left."

"Tempting an offer as it is," Lucifer said, stepping inside the office. "Or rather, isn't: no, thank you."

"I recommend not mixing it with the banana when it arrives," Eric said.

"Stop making me vomit, because that will make this much harder," Lucifer sighed.

Eric arched up an eyebrow and smirked. "What do you want, Lucy?"

"Octavia needs a job," Lucifer said, "I thought we could give her one."

He was perfectly happy to exchange that favor for other favors of the sexual variety.

Yes, even if Eric said yes right away. What?

"Well, Tiny is made of sterner stuff than the diner workers," Eric agreed. "Duke still has to pay for his drinks."

"Trust me, if she doesn't let him, I will get very annoyed with her," Lucifer said, wandering further into the office. "Wednesdays, then."

Probably not helping that whole 'being Octavia's sugar daddy' thing you kept slipping into, Luce.

Not remotely.

"Whatever will we do without you on the piano," Eric teased dryly. "Oh no."

"I play Tuesdays and Fridays, and it is a bloody enrichment for this club," Lucifer informed him, sitting down on the desk. "A little respect."

"Eh," Eric replied. "I don't think people come to a bar to get enriched."

"They certainly don't come to a bar to watch you pick substandard DJs and then eat them," Lucifer said, tilting his head.

"That's just wholesome family fun," Eric said with a smirk.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and leaned over a bit, though he had no plans to give up his height advantage. "Actually murder," he said, "And probably a sign of subconscious bad taste."

"Doesn't eliminating bad dj's up the quality of those that are left?" Eric asked, leaning back.

"Don't be ridiculous," Lucifer said, swinging his legs over to Eric's side of the desk. "Bad dj's are infinite. Good dj's, extremely rare."

"I don't eat the good dj's," Eric said.

"Then please enlighten me why there was such a dj turnover in this place before I got here?" Lucifer said, tilting his head, ever so curious.

"Because I hired mediocre ones on purpose," Eric said.

"And that," Lucifer said triumphantly, "Is why it's a good thing I play the piano."

Was he shoving Eric further back against that seat now? Yes.

Eric smirked. "Well, hello there."

"I'm bored of this argument," Lucifer said, "I can think of something better to do with that infuriating mouth of yours."

Also Eric hadn't put up nearly enough of a fight about Octavia for it to be fun, so now he was forced, yes, forced to find his fun another way.

So sad for Lucifer, oh no, oh no, etc.

Eric's smirk widened. "I'm sure you can."

I'm out for dinner tonight, so some SP warning in effect.

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The Devil's Nest, Friday Night

Have A Drink!

Listen to the Music

Talk to Lucifer

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OOC