Like liquid poison it takes its toll | open

[hisfavoriteson]

WHO: Lucifer Morningstar and open
WHERE: A bar somewhere (or find him when he's making his way to or from a bar)
WHEN: Early July
WHAT: Lots of drinking
WARNINGS: Possible spoilers for season 4 of Lucifer

He's lost. Not physically; he knows where he is. Emotionally, mentally, in the ways that matter. His life has come unmoored more times than he can count in the last year and a half, and he never knows what to do about it. And now, now that he finally knows what kind of life he wants, has it within his grasp, he's still adrift. I need more time. What could he do but agree to the request?

What changed since that moment on his balcony in Los Angeles?

He's never been good at answers. Linda's not here to give him advice. His other usual outlets are unavailable to him at the moment. So he's left with what used to just be a way to have a good time.

He's in a bar, somewhere. It doesn't much matter which bar, or which city. He'll probably make it to more than one before this is resolved. He's found a seat at the bar itself, so he doesn't have to keep coming back for more drinks. And he's been through a lot of them, if the glasses littering the bar in front of him are any indication.

He's not as put together as he usually is. He's still wearing an expensive suit, but the shirt's not buttoned all the way and he failed to tuck it in properly. He's under some influence from the alcohol, but not as much as would be expected from most people who have had that much to drink. What's the point in having a supernatural metabolism if he's not going to use it?

He picks up his most recent drink and swallows it down all at once, then pulls out a cigarette and lights it while waiting for the bartender to get him a refill.

It's going to be a long night.

Comments

[thepowerofthor]

Thor is here, also, today, thinking on recent things, and doing his best to not think of how weird life had gotten recently. Losing his eye, his family, most of his race, and his self-respect, then gaining one of those back, had been a mess off a few years and he showed it. He was overweight, albeit dressed well now, and his hair was long, but at least it was now pulled back in a knot behind his head.

He has regained some of his pride, now. Some.

He eyes the man who is downing many drinks, and who seems almost as determined to not think as he is. And he waves at the bartender.

"Give yon man one of those drinks you gave me, fair barkeep. The stronger ones. It looks like he needs it. On me."

[hisfavoriteson]

A strong drink. Bless you, stranger. Even if you could use a haircut.

As soon as the bartender puts the drink in front of him, whatever it is, he holds it out to the generous stranger as a toast and a thanks.

[thepowerofthor]

Thor lifts his own drink and taps it on the man's glass, and lifts it. "Slonshall, strange one, and salute."

And he downs his drink, mostly, still wishing that this place had Asgardian ale.

[hisfavoriteson]

He drinks his down too, not even flinching at how strong it is. He's handled worse. "That was a good choice. What is that?" He'll have to remember it.

[thepowerofthor]

"200 year old Vodka. Expensive. but worth it." Thor grins as he waves for more.

"Not strong enough, but at least I can taste this one." He regrets not knowing how to make Asgardian ale from Midgardian ingredients.

[hisfavoriteson]

"Top shelf." Which is what he drinks, when he can afford it, and when he's back home, 'when he can afford it' is 'all the time.' He's had to change his habits a bit since he arrived here, but most of the time he can talk his way in to the good stuff.

"Why drink something if you're not going to taste it?" So clearly he approves.

[thepowerofthor]

"Exactly. So little of the drink on this world is strong enough. But sometimes, humans do it right." He nods as he considers his drink, then orders again.

"A root beer, good barkeep."

He glances at the man near him. "I do enjoy some of the herbs this planet produces."

[constantdick]

So, what do you do when you've suddenly found yourself on an unfamiliar landscape, quite possibly in a different dimension altogether, with no control over how you got there or if you can ever leave again? If you're John Constantine, you immediately look for a bar—or at the first opportunity anyway, after the whole arrival/orientation process. Not that he needs an excuse to look for a bar in any reality, but he is a bit more desperate now than usual, despite not being a stranger to dimension hopping in one form or another.

He enters the establishment in question and has a seat not too far away from the semi-sloshed-looking man in the expensive suit, giving him a small nod and lighting a cigarette of his own, assuming he's here for the same reason.

"Bugger this for a lark, eh?" he mutters, his accent mostly of Liverpool.

[hisfavoriteson]

Well now. There's a man who knows what he's after. And what he's after is, apparently, alcohol. So at least Lucifer won't get any judgment from him on that count.

"Something like that." If it's a rather noncommittal answer, well, he's in a noncommittal mood today.

"You're new here?" He hasn't been here long himself, a matter of weeks, and he still recognizes the look.

[constantdick]

"Got it in one," he replies, not sounding too happy about it as he gestures to the bartender.

For the most part, the list of things John is after is relatively short, consisting mostly of cigarettes (which he has), alcohol (which he's in the process of getting), and sex (which he's not really thinking about at the moment, considering the upheaval of the last 24 hours, but the night is young and he's easily diverted).

Speaking of which-

He turns his head, more fully taking in the other man's appearance, which raises his spirits a little. "'Ow about you, 'andsome? Been 'ere long?" Yes, he purposely makes that sound like the cheesiest of pickup lines.

[hisfavoriteson]

If there's anyone who's used to cheesy pickup lines, it's Lucifer, who gets them a lot from people who don't know yet that they're in pursuit of the best night of their lives. Which might not be what this is. He hasn't worked that out yet. Nor has he worked out if he even wants it to be (what he wants is someone else, after all), and he hadn't come in here looking for it, but, well, the night is young.

"About a month." It's hard to believe, sometimes, that it's been that long. It's barely any time at all. "So not really."

[constantdick]

Since he didn't get sneered at, spit on, or outright punched after a line like that, John'll take that as a win. He's not in a good place himself intimacy-wise considering it hasn't been that long since he'd been forced to send the man he loved to Hell, but there's nothing like a mindless (and possibly ill-advised) shag to get rid of any actual feelings, right? Even better if it's a drunken shag—which given the way he quickly downs most of his glass when he finally gets it, then signals for another, that's not going to take long.

"Picked up any 'elpful tips yet?"

[hisfavoriteson]

"This world isn't really that different from the one I left, aside from the obvious." The porters, the imPorts themselves, the fact that many people here have powers of some sort. Those types of things. "People come here from many different worlds, some more alike than others. I haven't really got anything that's more helpful than that."

Let me know if you'd prefer prose, and I'll switch!

[desmodusdraculae]

[The bartender in question eyes this particular patron before cautiously putting down another drink. Were this anyone else, he would have cut them off a long time ago.]

Either you have a heightened metabolism or you're the most sober-looking drunk I've ever seen.

this is fine!

[hisfavoriteson]

You could say I've been blessed with a supernatural metabolism.

[Because...he has.]

If I were human, I'd have died a long time ago.

[Died for good, anyway.]

[desmodusdraculae]

And what are you?

[A question asked without skepticism. Getting fangs takes a lot of skepticism out of things.]

[hisfavoriteson]

The Devil.

[He's used to skepticism. No one ever believes him.]

[desmodusdraculae]

[Kirk is, admittedly, a little skeptical, but he has seen some shit so sure, why not?]

Well I thought I had a few more years left before I met you.

[hisfavoriteson]

Have you done something to earn a trip to my domain?

[Never mind that he spent more than half a decade living on Earth. He's back in Hell, which has always been his domain even when he didn't want it to be.]

[sathan]

She'd come to the bar for information, planning on eavesdropping on other conversations to see if there was anything potentially useful that she may be able to overhear. There'd been a few things over the past few days but people were more interested in catching up or talking about a protest than anything really useful.

Still, where there were other cities there were other bars and an inhuman tolerance to alcohol helped wonders.

What Lilith didn't expect walking into the bar was something else. A power that she'd very rarely felt in her life, nothing witch or demonic but-- holy. Instincts wanted her to run, to keep hidden and protected but Lilith knew that running never solved anything. It was better to be informed and face it.

So she's gone to the bar, getting two glasses of whiskey, one for herself and one for him. She places it down in front of him before taking one of the nearby stools, taking a drink rather than saying anything. Yet.

[hisfavoriteson]

A stranger buying him a drink before they've even said anything to each other is nothing new to him. It happens to him in his own nightclub, where he doesn't have to pay for drinks anyway. But there's something different about this stranger.

This stranger is a demon.

Well. That throws a wrench into things. If there are demons walking Earth, maybe this Earth and his Earth aren't that different, and Chloe has a point about needing to get back to it as soon as they can. No matter what that means for what he really wants.

That's all stuff to worry about later though. When he's not sitting here facing a demon whose presence here may indicate the very situation he'd hoped to avoid.

He's careful to keep a neutral look on his face as he picks up the drink. He doesn't want to give anything away if he can help it.

"Cheers."

[sathan]

She nods to him, a tip of her glass before she lowers it to the bar top, keeping her hand on it. Lilith lets silence fall for a few seconds, not looking at him when she starts with--

"You know what I am."

There was no sense beating around the bush about it, particularly not when Lilith could feel his power which meant that he could feel hers. There was no way that he couldn't, not unless he somehow wasn't aware of his powers.

[hisfavoriteson]

"I do." There's no point in trying to deny it, not when she's figured it out, and anyway, he doesn't lie. He may try to disguise the truth sometimes, but he doesn't lie about it.

"What I don't know is who you are, exactly." Maze had managed to make it out of the gates of Hell in her own body, but the rest of the demons have to find other, now-outlawed, means to make it to Earth, and he doesn't recognize this face.

[sathan]

He'd find out that her story was incredibly different, that demons were a little freer about roaming the Earth. Different rules after all.

"I'm Lilith."

Some demons might need more explanation but not her. Not the first.

[hisfavoriteson]

There's surprise on his face that he doesn't even bother to try and disguise. There's probably no point.

"You're different than I remember."

He absolutely knows that name.