my_own_advocate: (lucifer - sitting piano)
Lucifer Morningstar ([personal profile] my_own_advocate) wrote in [community profile] fandomtownies2021-11-19 05:32 pm

The Devil’s Nest, Friday Night

You know, it had been a while since Lucifer had last played any jazz. Clearly, now was as good a time as any.

He settled behind the piano with a grin and an arrangement of classics in his fingers. If nothing else, the music was bound to get him into a decent mood. A... nostalgic one, as well.

Ah, the good old days.

Today's Specials:
The Sidecar
The Clover Club
The French 75
all 25% off
jazz it up!


[[ open! ]]
somethingwithturquoise: (red solo cup pleased)

[personal profile] somethingwithturquoise 2021-11-19 04:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Like, the super old days. But honestly? Summer was kind of digging it when she figured she should definitely pop into the DN that evening. It definitely seemed to fit.

"Mr. Morningstar," she greeted him with a dignified nod and a less dignified slurp of a French 75 once she managed to wrangle it from Tiny and make her way over to him.
fortworeasons: ([~] posed with a pipe)

[personal profile] fortworeasons 2021-11-19 05:11 pm (UTC)(link)
So, Laszlo had now had this bar pitched to him twice, and finally wandered in tonight (accompanied by the cameraman and boom operator.)

No one, somehow, had told him there was music here. Axes, yes. Synthetic blood -- thank you, giant human! -- sure. But both Eric and Silver had neglected to mention the piano.

Or the rather attractive pianist, but for once in Laszlo's life (un-life), that was actually sort of beside the point, since it was making him a touch nostalgic, too. So, once there was a break in the music, Laszlo made his way over with a bottle of TruBlood and a small smattering of applause.

"Everyone who didn't tell me about the fact this is a piano bar should be fired," he greeted Lucifer amiably.
Edited 2021-11-19 17:16 (UTC)
somethingwithturquoise: (flattery will get you everywhere)

[personal profile] somethingwithturquoise 2021-11-19 05:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, okay, wow, that response was wholly unfair, because it completely dashed all of Summer's plans to be cagey and coy in answering a question like that, because now all she could do was positively beam back.

Man. She needed to do this whole 'leaving for an indeterminate time/possibly forever' thing more often!

"Nah," she said, with a shake of her head. "I'm fully back now. The New and Improved Galactic Empire is now old and dead and destroyed by denim. I just got back last night."
fortworeasons: ([!] vaguely hopeful)

[personal profile] fortworeasons 2021-11-19 05:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"Now the axes I did hear about," Laszlo assured him with a nod, "and while they do sound sort of delightful, I'm much more interested in this beautiful instrument of yours."

Throwing axes would probably just make him miss his violent wife and occasionally-violent hot roommate, sadly. Time enough for that later.

"Laszlo Cravensworth," he added, extending a hand and bowing slightly over it. "New arrival and fellow musician."
fortworeasons: ([*] harpsichord)

[personal profile] fortworeasons 2021-11-19 05:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Only by a century or so, pff. It'd been the height of fashion in 1885ish.

"The Devil?" Laszlo echoed, clearly amused at the idea. "The Devil? Oh, that's a new one. Never met a Devil before."

To be fair, Laszlo had only learned that ghosts were real a couple months ago, after theoretically having a ghost for about 400 years, so. It was possible he needed to get out more.
fortworeasons: ([~] always ready to flee)

[personal profile] fortworeasons 2021-11-19 06:06 pm (UTC)(link)
But it still looked great now! As did all of his wife's totally-not-outdated bustled gowns! Some looks were timeless.

"I've at least never met him," Laszlo decided thoughtfully, "though I also haven't been in a piano bar in years."

Like, decades. Probably since Nadja had gotten involved with the Rat Pack, honestly.

"So perhaps I've just been out of the Devils' natural habitat."
fortworeasons: ([*] harpsichord)

[personal profile] fortworeasons 2021-11-19 06:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Laszlo thought about it.

For probably longer than was strictly normal, but. It really had been awhile.

"I saw Sammy Davis Jr. perform in a bar, a bit ago," he offered. And by 'a bit' he clearly meant...you know. Eighty or so years. What was time, honestly? Who could possibly consistently keep track of such a thing? "And then of course I have performed more recently than that, but it's been a moment since I was able to enjoy another's performance."
somethingwithturquoise: (drunk summer)

[personal profile] somethingwithturquoise 2021-11-19 06:24 pm (UTC)(link)
"I would feel compelled to remind you of just how much I can drink," said Summer with an eager grin, "but I know you know, and also, I know who I'm talking to, so don't worry. I will not let that go to waste!"

In fact, allow her to get closer to proving that by downing a good portion of her current drink so she can move onto the next soon.

"Also, hardly one of the firsts. Like, half the island showed up randomly in my hallway last night while I was trying to break back into my place. And Seivarden showed up earlier today only to immediately turn into a cat, so that's a thing, right out the gate. It's almost as if I never even left, really."
fortworeasons: ([!] vaguely hopeful)

[personal profile] fortworeasons 2021-11-19 06:33 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh, I don't know," Laszlo sighed, because what are you doing, Lucifer, giving him a math problem? "Two thousand...twenty? 2019? Something like that."

He dressed like this because he looked handsome and dashing, obviously!
mother_love: (Default)

[personal profile] mother_love 2021-11-19 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Billy had been fairly productive that week so far. He deserved a drink. Or two. And so he was back at the DN. It had been a while since he had last stopped in anyways.

And since he was kinda here for the foreseeable future, Billy figured he might as well enjoy the local water hole- well one of them actually.

So there he was sitting at the bar enjoying a Sidecar as he tried to relax and unwind a bit.
somethingwithturquoise: (what.everrrr. (at the hulk musical.))

[personal profile] somethingwithturquoise 2021-11-19 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"She might be," Summer snorted, rolling her eyes in indignation, "but I'm the one stuck taking care of her in the meantime...

"And I didn't text anyone," she added, with a faint smile of apology. "I wanted it to be a surprise. Or, like, do you mean at all? While I was gone? Because I was pretty bad at that, too, not gonna lie, but also, you know, kinda busy? What with the saving my universe and everything?"

Apparantly not too busy to crash a rando party, though, but whatevs.
Edited 2021-11-19 18:40 (UTC)
somethingwithturquoise: (high five!)

[personal profile] somethingwithturquoise 2021-11-19 06:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"Billy!" Summer had to bounce over when she spotted him at the bar. "Ohmygod, perfect! You can totally carry me home later if," when, Summer, the word was when, "I need it tonight!"

Shamelessly taking advantage of the beefiness of her new neighbor? Summer? Noooooo. Never!
somethingwithturquoise: (just so happy right now)

[personal profile] somethingwithturquoise 2021-11-19 06:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"Hi!" Here, Lazlo, have a bouncy redhead high on the inflated ego of a glorious return and drinking shamelessly on the Devil's tab. "You're new!"

The second best thing about getting back so far? The portals had apparently been busy while she was gone!
fortworeasons: ([~] serious but also cozy)

[personal profile] fortworeasons 2021-11-19 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"How on earth could you tell?" Laszlo asked, affronted.

By the everything, Laszlo. The all of it. But also the synthetic blood that he wasn't bothering to hide at all, yes.

"Seems that this island is a little more accepting of my kind, in any case," he added with a haughty little sniff, now raising that obvious bottle of TruBlood. (Which was nothing like the real thing. One of the main reasons he'd become a vampire had been to suck blood! Drinking it from a bottle took the figurative wind out of one's figurative sails, a bit.)

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