The Devil's Nest, Tuesday

[my_own_advocate]

'Twas a Tuesday night, and so the Devil's Nest was open with the Devil himself behind the piano. Playing nothing less and nothing more than some of the world's grandest classical tunes, this time.

Sometimes the soul needed Bach more than it did Gloria Gaynor.

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[suitably_heroic]

And it was a Tuesday night, so there was an Atton. A pensive one. Maybe even brooding. For once, he was actually drinking the whiskey he'd ordered, in small, pained sips, like a fine wine or something.

Sia's visit had him thinking about the past, and that was never a good ride. Especially not here, where some memories (I could do this. Call it home.) overlapped others (explaining, in very small words, that he wasn't a pet or a crazy uncle you could put somewhere and visit when it was convenient) in ways that he was pretty sure would drive him nuts if he lingered on them too much.

But that was why he came to this club, and it was why he didn't give Dane any personal tracks to throw into the group, and it was also, stupidly, why he'd ran to music in the first place, for all the times he got so far in he couldn't stop himself. He sighed, and took a sip, and muttered something under his breath about the piano.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc saw Atton and gave a nod of greeting. He wasn't going to interrupt if the guy wanted to drink in peace. Marc could certainly relate to the urge.

[suitably_heroic]

Atton looked up at him and half-assed raising his drink in greeting. "No catastrophes this week?"

Not that there had been any in his conversations with Marc before, but it was Fandom. Never hurt ot check.

[hasaknightjob]

Look, Marc respected that line of thought. He also appreciated not tempting fate so he went with, "Nothing so far. You?"

[suitably_heroic]

"Nothing except the ongoing one in my own head," Atton said cheerfully. "But hey, it's early in the semester."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc looked at him curiously. "Headache or...?"

[suitably_heroic]

"Nah, just the joys of what my therapist calls complex post-traumatic stress disorder," Atton said. Could be a joke, right? Let's go with joke.

[hasaknightjob]

"That's why I don't go to therapy," Marc said. Well, there were a lot of reasons. Almost as many reasons for why he should. "But if it works for you that's great."

[suitably_heroic]

"Yeah, that's what I said a few years ago, and I was an idiot," Atton said, sounding distant and bored.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc thought about saying he'd had bad experiences. But that ran the risk of being asked what they were so he decided to avoid it.

"Something go wrong on the island?" he asked instead. Not in a way that he was prying into Atton's feelings on the matter. More like wondering if it'd been something worth worrying about (or hitting).

[suitably_heroic]

"No," Atton said, and eyed the piano, and was, again, very relieved they didn't do karaoke here. "So far, we're disaster-free."

[hasaknightjob]

"Gotcha," Marc said. He took a sip of his drink. "Sometimes these things can be person specific, the way this fucking place is."

[suitably_heroic]

"Trust me, I have... what, over a decade of experience in local terms?" Atton said. "I've seen it all."

That was kind of the problem.

[hasaknightjob]

"Only been here a year," Marc said. Actually a little over a year but don't expect Marc to pay attention to those details. "What's the worst?"

[suitably_heroic]

"It's a toss-up between all the times it fucks with your head and the times it turns your friends into murder clowns. Or drops you in a universe full of skinless torture artists."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc took a sip of his drink. And then asked, "Are they artists in torturing people without skin or do the artists not have skin?"

Look he'd dealt with some fucked up things, it was a valid question.

[suitably_heroic]

"The torture artists had no skin," Atton clarified. "Thanks for asking."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc nodded. "I've been around monsters that rip out organs and shit, so..."

He shrugged to indicate things like that were why the question came to mind.

[suitably_heroic]

"Oh, the bad guys in my universe definitely know how to make things horrifying," said Atton, who maybe had done a few horrifying things in his time, too. "Honestly, I could probably live with it. It was having friends around who couldn't handle themselves that made the whole thing an absolute nightmare."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc looked at him with sympathy. "That I get. I can handle a lot of shit better if I'm not worrying about other people."

Including Steven, sometimes.

"I mean sometimes I'm the one doing the shit nobody needs to see," Marc said. He finished off his drink and thought about getting another. "Except the people who need the lesson."

[suitably_heroic]

Atton shrugged. "I can neither confirm nor deny my shit," he said merrily. "Except I can, I just don't like to."

[hasaknightjob]

"Don't like to confirm it or don't like to deny it?" Marc asked. "I'm mainly a confirm, depending."

[suitably_heroic]

"Confirm," Atton allowed. "It's been a while, anyway."

[hasaknightjob]

"Same," Marc said. He wasn't ambivalent about that at all, why would anyone ask? "But like I say it did depend. Stuff for work, sure. Personal stuff - why bring it up? Only makes things complicated."

[suitably_heroic]

Atton shrugged. "Sometimes the personal stuff brings itself up," he said.

[hasaknightjob]

"Ain't that the truth?" Marc said. He motioned for Tiny to get him another drink. "Fuck that's annoying."

[hasaknightjob]

Steven and Watts weren't doing that volunteer thing on the mainland tonight so Marc was free to swing by the bar and grab a drink. He settled down on a free bar stool, in no particular rush.

[my_own_advocate]

"And what can I get Tiny get you?" Lucifer asked, some time later, during a break in the performance.

[hasaknightjob]

"Whisky's fine," Marc said. "How's it going?"

[my_own_advocate]

"I have no complaints at the moment," Lucifer said, "Which is rare." He motioned for Tiny to go get some whisky.

[hasaknightjob]

"I know that feeling," Marc said. Not that he complained. When he had complaints, that's when more alcohol was called for. "You going to that thing Friday?"

[my_own_advocate]

"There's a thing on Friday?" Lucifer said, frowning. "I should really sync up my Gcal to that of the island's most prolific party animals... "

[hasaknightjob]

"Rogers and Stark are doing a thing," Marc said. Then, to explain why the fuck he would know, "Steven and Watts are going."

[my_own_advocate]

"Huh," Lucifer said. "I should let Duke know. Perhaps it'll convince him to leave the boat."

[hasaknightjob]

"He still not doing good?" Marc asked. Last he saw Duke, Duke was drinking. And Marc didn't know that had also meant Duke was off his meds but he knew what drinking during the day tended to indicate.

[my_own_advocate]

"Life has something of a way of kicking him in the teeth whenever he seems likely to recover," Lucifer sighed. "I'd blast his hometown off the map if I could manage it."

[hasaknightjob]

"Can he at least keep it in his rearview?" Marc asked. After all, that had worked for him. Mostly.

[my_own_advocate]

"Sometimes it just likes to scoop him up right off the boat and teleport him back," Lucifer muttered.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc looked horrified. "Oh fuck that noise."

[my_own_advocate]

"It seems only reasonable to nuke it from orbit," Lucifer agreed.

[hasaknightjob]

"I swear sometimes if I had the ability..." Marc said. Though ultimately without full feeling behind it. Marc's way of dealing was to not.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer tilted his head and thought about it. "... You know, it's not out of the realm of possibility that I do," he said. "What with being God and all."

[hasaknightjob]

"Isn't smiting part of the job description?" Marc asked. He had a complicated relationship with his own religion at the moment but that didn't mean he'd suddenly forgotten everything he learned about it.

[my_own_advocate]

"Yes," Lucifer said, "Smiting things is certainly a God thing. Though my Father tended to prefer more esoteric workarounds, like floods."

[hasaknightjob]

"So same guy with the plagues?" Marc guessed.

Hey, when there was an entire holiday about them you tended to remember.

[my_own_advocate]

"My mum did do a few plagues, but only the smaller-case ones," Lucifer said.

[hasaknightjob]

"I can believe that," Marc said, with a flat tone and a large swallow of his drink which perhaps said a great deal about the topic of mothers.

As did, perhaps, the adjustment to the subject of conversation. "I mean you're talking to a guy whose job it is to get vengeance on behalf of a god so I'm a bad call on saying it's not a good idea if the people involved deserve it."

[my_own_advocate]

"That one was really more of a familial dispute," Lucifer allowed. "And dear old Dad's were at least 50 percent temper related."

[hasaknightjob]

"Your dad still bug you?" Marc asked. It was possible Lucifer had mentioned the status of where his dad was when he'd first brought up the God thing but as always one should never count on Marc to remember lore drops.