The Devil's Nest, Friday Evening

[my_own_advocate]

"All of our mixers have been replaced with what," Lucifer said slowly.

"Apple cider vinegar," Lucifer said loudly.

"Right, give me my phone back, I'm making a call to Gwyneth--" Lucifer yelled.

Argument concluded, Tiny walked up to the specials board and wrote down, sighing, No Cocktails Today - Beer Wine and Spirits 10 percent off.

[[ open ]]

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[deathtofrendo]

Quinn had spent the last few days doing little more than sleeping, eating, and sponge-bathing, trying to rid herself of the phantom smells of blood and smoke and giving her foot a chance to start healing. She was deeply unused to inactivity, though, so by Friday evening, she was starting to get a little stir-crazy in her room at the boarding house, and got out her crutches to start properly exploring this weird little town she'd ended up in.

And promptly ended up at a bar, yes. What? They tended to be a decent way to get a feel for the populace.

"What if I want a soda?" she asked. (She was still underage, and had found trying to pass or use a fake ID just drew too much attention to her. And, well, she preferred screwdrivers, which were clearly off the menu.)

[my_own_advocate]

That voice.

Lucifer spun around abruptly from his spot at the bar, eyes going wide. Was it--? It was a Friday, perhaps-- "Rory?" he said. "You're a touch early, but-- I, yes. Soda."

[deathtofrendo]

Quinn raised an eyebrow. Looked back over her shoulder for anyone who may have come in behind her.

"Name's Quinn, actually. Early for what?"

[my_own_advocate]

"... For... alternate... children... weekend," Lucifer said. He held up a finger. "Excuse me, did you say your name was Quinn?"

[deathtofrendo]

Quinn nodded. "I did."

She wasn't sure she wanted to know about 'alternate children weekend'. She was still trying to process living in a sentient house, though that had turned out to be very helpful when she didn't feel like going downstairs to the kitchen for food, over the last couple days.

"Quinn Maybrook. I'm new."

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer squinted. "And you're certain you weren't just deposited here through a portal in the woods...?"

[deathtofrendo]

“It was on the street,” Quinn said. “On Monday. And the ‘portal’ was me busting out of a flaming clown head.”

That had not followed her here, which was nice.

[my_own_advocate]

"Hm," Lucifer said, eyeing her suspiciously. "A likely story."

[deathtofrendo]

Quinn just gave him a tired look in return. She was quite used to people not believing her.

“My soda?”

[my_own_advocate]

"Tiny," Lucifer said, waving at the man. "Get this... apparently unknown woman a drink."

[deathtofrendo]

“Quinn,” Quinn said. It wasn’t a hard name, okay?

[my_own_advocate]

"Right, 'Quinn', who is not anyone's alternate child," Lucifer said, rolling his eyes. "And why, pray tell, are you here?"

[deathtofrendo]

“For a drink. Is this your first day?”

[my_own_advocate]

"No, why are you here on the island," Lucifer said, exasperated. "It's in the arse-end of nowhere, so new arrivals always have some kind of dramatic story." Beat. "If they're not secretly alternate children."

[deathtofrendo]

Quinn stared back at him blandly. “You haven’t believed anything I’ve said so far. Why should I tell you anything else?”

[my_own_advocate]

"Oh, you're one of those," Lucifer concluded. He looked away. "Tiny? A whiskey, and quickly, please."

[deathtofrendo]

Yes. She was clearly the problem here.

Quinn missed her retractable baton.

At least the hulk named “Tiny” got her her soda. She gave him a faint smile in return.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer, meanwhile, grabbed his scotch and downed it. "Well, welcome to the Devil's Nest, I am Lucifer Morningstar, Tiny takes the drink orders, blah blah."

[deathtofrendo]

That got him another bland look. Sure. “Lucifer Morningstar” bartended at “the Devils Nest”.

A little on the nose if you asked her.

“There are people who call me “the Adversary,” she said blithely. “They’re mostly dead now.”

[my_own_advocate]

"Humans have so little creativity at times," Lucifer sighed. "Though I suppose I'm a classic."

[deathtofrendo]

He was sticking to the bit. Well. At least he didn’t think he was God or something.

“So why are you here?”

[my_own_advocate]

"Well, I was tired of Hell, so I escaped to Los Angeles, found myself in a torrid bout of sexual tension with a LAPD detective. That ended poorly when she realized I was actually the Devil, so I fled here to lick my wounds, fell in love with a sailor and a post-apocalyptic warrior, went back to LA where I found out my father was retiring. There was a big battle for his throne between me and my siblings, which I won, and then I came back here to prepare for taking the job."

Four years ago, but let's not dive too deeply into that.

[deathtofrendo]

“And you had problems with believing I got here through a burning clown head,” Quinn observed.

And yes, she noted that he was, in fact, basically claiming to be God.

[my_own_advocate]

"Because it's much more likely you were spat out through a portal in the woods," Lucifer said, impatiently. "Do try and keep up."

[deathtofrendo]

“And yet,” Quinn said dryly. “Sorry I’m not your alternate whatever.”

She was clearly not at all sorry.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer waved a hand. "You're forgiven," he said graciously. "Newbies."