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The Devil's Nest, Friday Evening

The sign by the Nest's door had a neat little note advertising a 'nautical guest musician' and the words ('it's that bloody pirate, Duke') printed underneath it. It wasn't missable, per se, but Duke would never know just how much of a bullet he'd dodged, as a weird short in Lucifer's head that may or may not have been related to his emotional state recently had nearly led to some kind of marquee lit monstrosity instead.

Look, Lucifer had a lot on his mind, and sometimes he resorted to drama to distract himself from it, and anyway, Duke owed Miss Lopez and her happy hippo videos a great debt of gratitude for distracting Lucifer from the distraction.

Either way, the piano was nowhere in sight tonight. The stage was clear, and Lucifer was at the bar, sipping a daiquiri. It seemed like a rum sort of night.

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Being the primary purpose of a bar and all.

Free of pianos, open for a pirate.

Duke hopped up on the stage, taking a moment to make sure his guitar was in tune, then leaned awkwardly towards the ~~totally modded omg~~ microphone.

"So, uh. This all started because I told Lucifer I knew the baudiest sea shanties. So I figured I'd start off on top with Good Ship Venus."

And so he did. It was, after all, one of the most explicitly raunchy shanties to have made it to the modern era.

... yes, by the time he got through the first verse, Lucifer was grinning in absolute delight.

Should've found Duke a third bottle, clearly.

"Oh, that is inspired!"

Duke tossed him a jaunty salute. "Thought you might like that one. Now how about The Captain's Wife's Lament?"

This one started out pretty tame. Then launched into multiple verses leaning on double entendre featuring the term "seamen".

Lucifer was going to have to start taking notes, clearly. And should've wasted less of the age of piracy in France.

"'Seamen in the rear'," he muttered to himself, snickered, and took another sip of his daiquiri.

Definitely not regretting the five seconds it had taken to talk Duke into this, no.

As the night wore on, Duke ran out of the really raunchy shanties, and was drunk enough to start getting a little more sentimental. There were plenty of spookier shanties to go with the crass ones.

"So it’s cheer up my lads, let your hearts never fail,
While the bonny ship, the Diamond, goes a-fishing for the whale. . . ."

Lucifer almost wished he could actually get drunk off of this rum. Almost.

Though Duke didn't have a terrible voice. And he had missed music.

He took a pensive sip of his drink - he'd moved on to caipirinha by now - and watched. Surely he'd get in the heckling mood at some point, or something.

He's chilling at the bar for most of the night, in his black suit with his black shirt.

Edited 2020-10-30 11:27 (UTC)

Yeah, Duke gave that sign a lot of side-eye as he came in. This was a bit more official than he'd anticipated. Still, he had dug his guitar out the night before and shocked all the porgs on the Rouge practicing his shanties, and he'd even put a little more thought and effort into his outfit than usual (not that most people would probably notice).

"You know, if this is that much of a gig, I really should be getting paid."

"If you want," Lucifer said easily, and then eyed the space past the stage critically again.

Really shouldn't have gotten sidetracked, it really could have done with an aquarium as backdrop.

Duke followed his gaze. "What? There something wrong with the stage?"

"Oh, no, I had a few more ideas planned for set dressing, but Miss Lopez went on a bit of a hippo tangent," Lucifer specified, looking back to Duke. "I got distracted."

Duke snorted. "Right. Well, remind me to send a thank you card to Miss Lopez, then." It might be a bit weird, since her only interaction with him was while high on molly and cocaine, but hey! Card! "I shudder to think what ideas you came up with."

"Not netting," Lucifer said, adjusting his jacket, "I can tell you that much. But fish would have been nice, since it was a bit too short notice for anything else."

A sense of proportionality was not something God had baked into any of his children's DNA, and that was without taking Lucifer's brain full of hyperactive weasels into account.

". . . I mean, netting would 100% have been appropriate," Duke said. "It'd got great with 'Frigging in the Rigging'."

"Of course you'd think so," Lucifer sighed, at which point the second part of what Duke was saying sank in and he snickered. "Got to hand it to you sailors, though, you do know a good rhyming scheme when you hear one."

"There wasn't a lot else to do in the middle of the Atlantic on a ship full of dudes. You know, other than screw and make up rhymes about screwing."

"Two of the finer things in life, honestly," Lucifer said, grinning. "Well, bar the lack of soap. Silver had a few things to say about that."

"Oh yeah, by all accounts it was absolutely awful most of the time," Duke said. "I'm very glad I can run my boat by myself."

"And I've never caught you being even remotely unwashed," Lucifer agreed. "There are things to be said for modernity."

"Damn right, you haven't. Showers and food are two of life's great pleasures."

That he hadn't had nearly enough access to for much of his childhood.

Lucifer was just not going to linger on the shower thing too long, if that was all right.

Okay, slightly longer than he'd like.

Ugh.

"Sadly, expensive alcohol will have to do tonight," he said - ugh, dammit.

They were both going to regret this gig a little by the end of the night, weren't they. Would Duke getting drunk enough to switch from baudy to soulful help?

Maybe not.

"I'm never going to say no to expensive alcohol."

"Suppose I can get you at least one glass before you actually go out there," Lucifer mused, reaching behind the bar for a bottle because that was infinitely better than anything else. "Just to go with the piratey theme."

"You can't sing a proper shanty without at least a little bit of booze," Duke said. "It's basically a rule."

Lucifer spared a brief thought to the version of himself who probably did something sensible, like choose to move into Miss Lopez's spare room and hide in the closet whenever the Detective came over to give her her space, instead of actively volunteering to get cockblocked by a raccoon like some kind of absolute moron, and then picked up a glass, as well.

You could tell he was subconsciously resigned to having utterly screwed himself by the fact Tiny was right there and yet Lucifer was pouring the drink and then handing it over to Duke.

"Lot of pirate laws about booze, are there?"

"Oh yeah. Though most of them come down to 'drink heavily'."

"That's something I can get behind," Lucifer said, and now that Duke had his drink, he was going to choose to follow the path of sanity and just add a nice, big splash of rum to his own glass. "Cheers."

"Thought you might," Duke said, and reached over to clink his glass against Lucifer's. "They were your kinds of people, pirates. Even if they did use a lot of rope in their decorating."

Lucifer snorted. "I did make it there once or twice," he said, "I just kept getting distracted by France."

"France, huh? Was that . . . Louis XIV?"

"Now that was a man who knew how to throw a party," Lucifer said, sighing.

"So I've heard," Duke agreed. "Of course, it was maybe the only thing he knew how to do."

"Well, he certainly didn't know how to dress," Lucifer agreed, crossing his legs. "Lucky thing there were enough pretty things to look at, or I would've lost precious hours to being appalled by it."

"Really. I thought fashion was all about what the royals wore back then. He should have been a taste maker."

"Please. His courtiers had to make him dress up for state portraits," Lucifer said, rolling his eyes. "And he wasn't gorgeous enough to pull off your whole 'I'm making a mockery of fashion for funsies' look."

"Yeah, I gather most of the blue bloods just looked kind of odd, right? I've seen the Hapsburg portraits."

"Very," Lucifer agreed. "Much more fun sleeping with the help."

"I can absolutely see that. I bet you hooked up in every room in Versailles."

"It's a very big place," Lucifer said, smirking. "But I tried my best."

He was very proud of that! Or had been. It seemed a bit more depressing in retrospect. Which was a thought he was going to try not to entertain, thank you.

Hail Eric.

Edited 2020-10-30 11:24 (UTC)

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The Devil's Nest, Friday Evening

Have a Drink

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