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WHO: Lucifer and YOU
WHERE: Revīvēscere, Heropa
WHEN: Sometime in July
WHAT: Come have a drink with Satan
WARNINGS: Religious sacrilege likely, will update as needed

[The only convenience of having been previously been a place of worship is that his bar, Revīvēscere, seemed exempt from paying both income and property taxes. It's not as though he would have paid anyway, but finding himself bereft of the hassle was a pleasant consequence. Instead, he spent his days in the company of others, both endemic and imPort, offering drink and an ear, and always with a subtly conniving smile, to those who would look for it. Sipping his drink, he recalls once Martin Luther saying, "So when the devil says to you do not drink, answer him, 'I will drink, and right freely, just because you tell me not to.'"

Martin Luther was an idiot.]

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[ Mission accomplished, but John is also rather used to being uncomfortable. Still, suddenly feeling dry in the mouth he washes down his gin in a hurry. ]

True, fewer lakes of fire on the mortal plane. But I reckon you of all folks'd know the kinda buggery we get up to of our own accord. Or uh, just not a fan of the Bard, then?

[ That, he hopes, is sufficient brashness to conceal the cold, blade-like feeling at his back from the look on Luci's face. ]

Most of you live your lives in a prison of your own construct, at least the horrors you're referring to are a display of honesty.

[Honesty about who they are and what they're feeling. Not caged behind obsequious behavior that people display towards each other in their everyday lives, until their own emotional dishonesty boils over.]

[ It's not that Lucifer is actually wrong, but John's eternally the type to crack wise and take things less than seriously. Plus, it kept him from thinking, again, on the self-imposed prison this world had provided him. Most days he felt like a lion at the zoo, instincts dulled from having so little challenge. ]

Sounds as if you don't like people with pretense. Definitely not a fan of the Bard, then. [ Then after a beat. ] Is this a no smoking bar, by the by?

[Who is Lucifer to deny a desire? He gestures silently with an open palm, as though that is enough allowance on his part.]

[ Oh, that almost makes him smirk. Careful, Morningstar, you just might be getting John to enjoy himself here.

A cigarette emerges from his pocket with little trouble - his coat had apparently been upgraded with such a trick after coming back through the porter. He holds it over a tealight on the bar to give toxic, smokey life to the tobacco. ]

I'd say bless you, mate, but that seems ill-fitting.

I've been attributed to a great many things, John, but I don't believe denial is often one of them.

[Look around, Constantine. While there are no seedy deals being made, wherein the devil will trick you into trading your soul for a bowl of candied almonds, instead they are allowed to indulge in their vices freely and without contempt of the world.]

[ A sigh, maybe just a little petulant and bored sounding, escapes John. He's not sure whether Lucifer can hear it, but he also doesn't entirely care. ]

I've gotta admit, I'm a bit disappointed. Here I was hoping for some great antagonist. Wasn't expecting you to be the agreeable sort, mate.

Give it time, John. The future here hasn't been written yet-- I could always still kill you.

[A joke from Satan, cool. Or was it?]

Threatening me with a good time? Cuz I dunno about you, but I get bored without some kind of plot to occupy me'self with.

[ Good thing almost everything John says is a joke. Almost everything. ]

Confidence is a requirement of a con man, John. I wonder if the others before me would have noticed the flop sweat if they weren't so distracted by the puckish smile.

[ He doesn't deny it, but his face twists into something that doesn't look terribly puckish. ]

Sometimes the sweat works in my favor. Makes 'em underestimate me. I did dupe the First Fallen with a foot an' a half in the grave, mind.

[ It's less a threat and more a concession. Lucifer should present more of a challenge if he and John ever had any... discrepancies. ]

[Lucifer golf claps for him, a half-lidded, idle stare on his face as though he's not terribly impressed.]

[ A frown slips over John's face next and he sticks his cigarette back between his lips. ]

Gave up all the trappings of divinity but the aloofness, I see. [ But then he shrugs. As much as a peer and rival would be nice, someone to really keep John on his toes, it seems clumsy to poison a peaceful watering hole over a few dings to his pride. ] 'Least you're not as bad as Gabriel. Bloody snob's in his own league, that one.

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