6763/Visiting hours Unlimited

Visiting hours Unlimited
Date of Scene:	01 July 2021
Location:	Amanda's Apartment, NYC
Synopsis:	Lucifer visits Amanda, and they reflect on duties and relationships
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Amanda Sefton

---

Lucifer has posed:
"For you. Well. Us. Shared, of course," is the commentary on the wine bottle as it is ceremoniously placed into Amanda's possession. It's a deep, odd violet color of glass, the label unreadable in silver relief that has been burned away. There's something very otherworldly and disturbing lingering in the bottle's makeup: as if it were stored somewhere. Being as it's come out of Lucifer's possession, the clear guess of where it was stored may be easily known, though. It just soaked up that ambiance, lightly, within the glass, though whether the drink itself carries that quality may be unclear.

"It has been a /while/, hasn't it?" Lucifer remarks to follow that, upbeat, though his impact on the environment is subdued today. There's good control at play: he barely can be sensed, even at close proximity. The devil can blend perfectly when he has a mind to. Or perhaps his power is docked or reduced; that would also explain it. "Months? Mortal time is an elusive construct at times," Lucifer prattles, while he expectantly shifts in as if he intends to offer a European cheek-kiss to Amanda. He smells great, there's some expensive and odd cologne on him and his fresh and stylish suit.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda smiles as she accepts the gift, though a brow arches faintly as the sense of the thing. She knows where this has been stored... which means it *won't* be going into the regular recycling bin when it's empty. She's met his 'groupies'. "Oh, this is a collector's item, no doubt," she says drolly, returning the European greeting easily enough. She certainly appreciates the scent of his cologne. And his stylish suit.

She's dressed in a summery dress, today. Though, here in the apartment, her feet are bare. Her hair is up in a french plait that hangs loosely down her back. It's cooler that way, though the a/c in the place works just fine. "It *has* been a while, it's true," she agrees, moving now to place the wine on the table and find a couple of glasses and a corkscrew. "You're looking well." Certainly, he's less intense than he was the last time or two she saw him. That's probably a good thing, all things considered.

Lucifer has posed:
"Happy to be back on earth," Lucifer says, bright and chipper: a full bloom of how positive and pleasant Lucifer truly can get when he's in the mood for it. He's able to glow lightly, in his unnatural way, though it's subdued as is most of his ambiance for the moment. "Sometimes we /do/ have to do work we don't care for. Makes the vacations sweeter, that comparison, though. Much like torture via psychological torment can feel a relief compared to years of bees-with-teeth genital assault," Lucifer continues. It's chatty in quality, with a flow of warm sharing of a workday - without concern about being judged or withholding elusively.

The devil is /comfortable/.

....Which could be worrying for other reasons. "/You/ look rather summery in this, beautiful color choice on you," Lucifer compliments perceptively of the dress, approaching the table and breezing fingers along the edge of it, lightly tactile. It's an unconscious 'grounding' move, centering in the earthly plane and space, for him. Though if he lingers and continues to do whatever he's doing, her table may start to feel similar to that bottle - in proximity of hell.

"Collector's item, perhaps. Should you wish to destroy a eucharist in full glory, the leftovers of that wine would do it. There might be flames. Smoke at the least." The smile is subtle but glittering.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
The analogy is a little disturbing, all things considered. But Amanda suspects it's one best not pursued. She pours the wine and hands him a glass, an easy smile on her lips. "I'll take your word for it, as to the specifics," she says, taking a moment to test the bouquet of the wine.

She watches him as he moves, aware of his proximity and touch. It's been a while since she's contended with it. The groupies had almost faded.

She's sure they'll return, now.

"Thank you," she says as to the compliment. "With the weather as warm as it is, it seemed the practical choice." That it happens to also suit her, of course, is no coincidence. "I think I'll leave the Eucharist in tact, for now, however. No sense riling up both sides of the aisle. Your fan club has already dropped by to visit at least once."

She picks up her own wine glass and moves toward the living room, settling back on the couch with a graceful flounce. Doesn't spill a drop. "Have you returned for long? Or will work pull you away again soon?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer leaves his wine to dwell in the glass for a time, though he does spin it along his fingers a little, a loose twirl without much attention directly paid to it. It is red, with a light purple quality undertone, but it is not bloody. It is very transparent, with a more crisp lurk, something akin to cinnamon that isn't cinnamon. Unearthly spice that the tongue can't figure out, which gives it an aftertaste that burns in strangely aeromatic way.

Lucifer gives way on the table and instead comes along to the couch, in a circling path that's mildly predatory, but probably unintentionally so. "Dear, the fans. For as much as I push for free will, I seem to often collect the opposite, in these cult-oriented worshippers," Lucifer gripes, with an off-put sigh. "Though for the most part it is more the rebellion they focus on - that they are deeply unhappy and seek /better/. I do not fault them that, and encourage that they find their ambition, drive, and the pride to know they deserve it." Lucifer attempts to join Amanda on the couch; his position has a flirtation to it, open and easy, but without being pushy.

"As a 'boss' I do make my own hours. Do you hope to keep me around?" Lucifer teases, playful, and pleased by the idea.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda's head cants faintly at the flirtation. She doesn't stop him from joinng her, however. While her own mein isn't overly flirtatious in return, it's relaxed and easy enough. She's not put off by him, even if she is very aware of him on many levels.

She chuckles as he gripes. "They weren't as intrusive as they might have been," she admits with a mild shrug, an arm stretched out across the back of the couch as she turns toward him. "They thought I was creating a new coven, however, and weren't particularly thrilled to hear I largely work alone." She sets her glass down to let the rich liquid breathe a little, and gives a rueful smile. "I know how to guard my own privacy, regardless. They haven't troubled me in a while."

She gesture to that bottle, however, and chuckles. "You may want to spirit that away with you, though. Otherwise, I'll have to find some other realm to recycle it in. They'll be back for sure if they sense *that*."

Lucifer has posed:
"I'd say let them have it - free recycling service, mmm? - except that it would, indeed, encourage them to check back periodically for other trophies to acquire from you. Unless you appreciate the attention. I won't take that fame from you if you enjoy having some potential minions to assist in magical endeavors in the future," Lucifer says, in a lightly 'tempting' way, amused by Amanda with a coven of eager worshippers prepared to help her in casting.

"I /am/ able to entirely cloak my presence here, should the visitors truly disturb you. I'd rather do that than forgo our continued relationship," Lucifer says, with a brief, strange shift of emption. It isn't exactly humility, but a self-awareness of the impact, though 'guilt' is also incorrect. He is willing to pay a fee for something he wants, though - in this case, the company.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda shakes her head lightly. "I have no need of the minions," she smiles. "They tend to get in the way." Particularly when they don't actually have any power of their own... or when they do but their ambition outstrips it. Or when, like her mother, their ambition and power are fully equal to the task and they decide she's standing in the way. That just ends up getting messy.

No, Lucifer's groupies aren't ideal candidates as coven mates in Amanda's book.

"If they become too great a nuisiance, I'll let you know," she tells him. "For now, most of them go away after we have a little chat about my preference for privacy." Okay, yes. She does sometimes put the whammy on them to accomplish that particular goal, but... Yeah, her guilt about that is very tiny. She considers a service -- for everyone's good. He might not appreciate that small circumvention of their free will, mind, but she doesn't tend to do anything more than give them a gentle, if firm encouragement to seek him elsewhere.

"To be honest," she admits, fully aware of the irony in those words, "I did miss you. I enjoy our conversations and occasional debates." There aren't many who explore philosophy in this modern world. And maybe they haven't always agreed -- she does still tend to come down on the side of the angels more often than not -- but she's never held that against him.

Lucifer has posed:
"As you do not /seem/ to have a huge pile of cursed items to unload into my custody for removal or destruction, I believe you," Lucifer teases about the conversations and debates. "As I do hope to be more than a supernatural trash disposal service." He darkens just a little, looking skyward in a manner he usually does when God is mentioned or brought up. The sarcasm, the rebellious quality against being made to do things - or given the whole of humanity's trash to punish and mind. The demons as company and nonpaying tenants.

"Most of those who understand what I am are unfriendly or groupies. I do like the /different/ and unusual - which you are, as you aren't either one of those," Lucifer explains. "I enjoy the magic as well. We share a hobby." A quick grin follows, and he drinks most of his wine. His attention isn't on it until he does that, and the action of the large drink makes him pause to savor the heat. The supernatural notes to it hit him well, and he exacts pleasure there, in a long inhalation.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
"I suppose we do, at that," Amanda laughs, picking up her own wine glass and sipping it. Its spicy undertone is appealing, it's true. That hint of not-quite-cinnamon. "I've never been much of a joiner," she admits. Aside from that brief stint with Excalibur, it's largely true. Even then, she was there more for Kurt than the group. Her constant comings and goings -- always off hunting artifacts or greater magical knowledge -- bore that out.

"I would imagine I can find *some* use for the bottle," she smiles, "if you don't wish to take it with you. I can't say Eau d'Enfer is typically an ingredient in my spells and rituals, but that doesn't mean it doesn't occasionally come up." That indefinable quality that the bottle possesses can add a certain kick to the right spell, it's true. They're just not usually the spells she performs -- outside of certain exorcisms or bannishings. Very rarely does she summon.

"I'm more concerned about the people who can gain access to my library and workspace than I am the bottle itself." Really, she doesn't want either Loki or her mother walking away with it. And keep them out is proving a challenge for the young sorceress. "They have grabby hands."

Lucifer has posed:
"I am intimately familiar with grabby hands. There were times in history there was a great number of stories passed around of there being magic in the Devil's hair, or hooves.... you can imagine the grabby desire from greedy hands that sought power," Lucifer chuckles, but he isn't annoyed. "Lessons on keeping hands to oneself were provided. My teaching isn't subtle when I'm ticked off." Lucifer passes the fingers of his free hand along his cheek to his chin, his smile mild.

Lucifer's aware of his major problem - that rage thing. Though his bringing it forward as a topic is very unusual. It's there, but he doesn't prefer to talk to friends about it. It doesn't put him in a good light at all. "That isn't necessarily what I /want/ to be. We all have the power to be what we want. Make those changes. In patience, in reputation. I suppose it comes down to drive. Desire."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
It's an interesting question, really. Amanda cants her head and ventures carefully into fraught waters. "Do you have the *desire* to be other than what you're often depicted to be?" she wonders aloud, watching him over the rim of her cup. "To be..." a small smile quirks her lips as she searches for a gentle way to say what she's thinking, "less emphatic in your display of... displeasure?"

It's curiosity more than anything else. She's not really sure how much a Greater Power can change, once their nature is set. No matter how much he believes in free will and self-determination. And if it's true that his nature is more set than he believes... she can't help but feel that to be a terribly cruel trick of fate.

Lucifer has posed:
"Firstly, my depictions were made by enemies. Please do me the favor of understanding that intense religious propaganda is not reality - though some pieces are true, and I admit to those." He doesn't lie, and won't here, either. "I punish crimes, but I don't make anyone commit them."

Lucifer clears his throat. "The desire? I have shown that, yes. My patience improves over time. You might not have liked me originally," Lucifer teases. He turns towards her more, the flirtation more front and center, though it can also be read as just something that comes along with when he exposes some vulnerability in a deeper topic: that his physical proximity gets closer since he turned to lean in, bring his gaze closer to hers.

"It comes down to less about the /strength/ of reaction. I have no guilt over that... I have no intent to reduce my power potential. But I don't explode over minor infractions. Keeping the threshold down where it belongs."

There's a pause. The hedonist can't resist the parallel. "Similar in matters of sensuality, really. To hold, with full control, until the moment is right. And then yes, I am emphatic in my display."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda smiles as he engages in the topic without seeming to take great offence. The pique about the fact his enemies have been so thorough with their propaganda against him is something she expected. She even chuckles some as he admits his 'younger days' may have been a bit more aggressive than now.

It's those moments of vulnerability that attract her -- not the flirtation itself. And not out of a desire to redeem him or some fool thing. She's always rather been of the mind that no one can truly redeem anyone other than themselves. Whatever changes he makes will be of his own accord, not her urging.

"So, it's a matter of degree," she says, as to the threshold he speaks of. "I can understand that." Certainly in the abstract, she can. His definition of degree may be different than hers, however. And she knows it.

Her chin comes up a bit as he compares it to a more hedonistic experience. On some level, that amuses her, and the amusement faintly touches her lips. At least he's fairly consistent in that way. "An interesting way to describe it. But, yes. I think I understand."

She gives a small nod and a bit of a half shrug before she swallows more wine. "Well, I'm glad to see you in such a good mood, regardless, and quite recovered from any earlier moments of... pique." That's one way to put it. That was genuinely terrifying. She just isn't one to linger in fear.

Lucifer has posed:
"Yes. A matter of degree. Or simply being exhausted by the length of existance, such that the little things /do/ seem more properly trivial. Though it is a dual-edged sword here: as if word gets out I am more patient, then others may decide to test that edge with me, which would be rather frustrating ... as I like being given some room to breathe and exist without constant attacks on my person or those near me." Lucifer shakes his head slowly, some irritation there, though it doesn't seem extreme: he is in fact being patient as he mentioned.

"I am in a good mood. And glad to see you similarly able to smile. I rather enjoy being cause for pleasure, more than pain." Lucifer tilts his head, with a brief little grin and laugh in his throat. "Though yes, at my deepest innate being, I am both of those. A matter of /degree/."

"So... have I given you pleasant distraction from life? Or is your life pleasant as it is?" Peculiar way of asking how she has been, but Lucifer can be stylishly peculiar in his approach.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda can't blame Lucifer for wanting to keep his 'mellowness' on the downlow. She's been a sorceress too long not to know that sometimes the illusion of power is all that's needed to keep it. And the illusion of weakness can be all that's needed to break it, too. There's a fine line to walk there. And since she really doesn't know what sort of effect the fall one great power and rise of a new one to fill the void might have... Well, as they say: Better the Devil you know...

"You often give me a pleasant distraction," she replies. She chuckles. "Always a distraction. Usually pleasant." She gives a mild shrug now. "I can't say life is unpleasant, certainly. It's been largely quiet. Whatever that strangeness was back in Tribeca over the winter has gone dormant again. I'm wondering if it will stir again come next autumn, but for now I have no way to know. But, without it, things have been -- well, I won't say boring, because that would just be tempting fate. But quiet, certainly. At least on a mystical front."

She smiles at that. "Mundanely, I've been insanely busy with a number of events this spring that will keep me going at least through Labor Day. And then I'm into Christmas and New Year's, so..." She lets herself relax. "It's nice to have a moment to breathe with someone who's not asking me to run their life."

Lucifer has posed:
"Generally there aren't as many breaches from hellmouths when I'm keeping watch. It /should/ be more quiet up here from demonic assault," Lucifer says, with a relaxed quality, but also a flex of his pride in the mix. He's proud of his work when he does do it.... but it isn't necessarily the job he wants. He can still do things well, though, when the desire to do so is there.

"Running /my/ life would certainly never be on the table," Lucifer laughs, amused. "Though, you know... I find it very interesting how resistant you are to me. I tend to /warp/ mortal things a bit with my presence, you see. Perhaps it is your magical nature... but I think it may be strong will, and sense of self, with you."

Lucifer's being open, in his honestly direct way that he gets when he doesn't think he needs to cloak or use a lot of subtly. His more natural state is not one of underhanded lies, despite the propaganda.

"You make me curious. I do think it could be quite something to be in a relationship with you, though," Lucifer comments, as if he were mulling it over on the fly as an interesting adventure. But he doesn't push, it dissolves into just a relaxed smile and a thoughtful 'hmm' on his tongue.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda's brow can't help but arch at the suggestion nonetheless. She laughs. "Well, firstly, only a fool would want to run your life for you. And I'm no fool." She gives a light half shrug, her eyes gleaming faintly. "The people whose lives I do run... well, it's only temporary and I generally give them what they ask for." Somehow, she suspects, in a weird way, he might relate.

As for the rest? "My mother tells me I've always been strong willed." She purses her lips slightly in thought. "She always blamed it on my father." Not that she has any clue who he might be. "All I know is that my mind doesn't shut down like a lot of other people's will when faced with so-called impossible things. There's something about the impossible that I find... attractive, I suppose. Fascinating is a better word. I want to understand... even if most of the time my understanding is limited to 'yes, it exists -- leave well enough alone, child'." She chuckles as she says that last.

As for the idea of a relationship? That gives her pause. "Do you?" she says, eying him for a moment. "I suppose it depends on how you define relationship, doesn't it?"

Lucifer has posed:
"I can often be impossible. Which could, if attraction is associated with that, be a good explanation for that side of me," Lucifer laughs, amused with the joke, and the easy deadpan of it. Could be partially true. He doesn't linger on focusing on himself, though, he pulls away from that.

"I am not in the business of constantly doing the impossible, though. Frankly sometimes I am just /lazy/. Impossible things are effort." Lucifer teasingly lids his eyes halfway, watching her, and rests his head on his hand, elbow on the back of the couch.

"I don't /define/ relationships, my dear, pretty young sorceress," Lucifer gently replies, cheeky. "They evolve, like people. Within the terms of desire. What those involved agree to. While often there are lies about me, they did get one thing accurate: when I do give my word, I keep it. I hold to what I say I will do. Contracts don't /bind/ me, I'm far above an actual magical binding. I bind myself, by my own decision."

Lucifer got serious, and he lightens up with a smile again. "So it could mean simple pleasure. But that is not specifically what I meant when I suggested it would be interesting to be in a relationship. I did mean something more lengthy. But it /would/ be different for me. Exciting, eh?" Perhaps a challenge. "But I like to see what happens." He isn't worried: it is another thing to enjoy, to him.

A bit of some color or something odd enters his face, though: elusive. Like an old negativity boiling up. "Though sometimes it does go foul, doesn't it."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda is, perhaps, surprised that he's actually being serious and not simply flirting with the idea for the sake of flirting. That's the only reason she's willing to honestly explore the idea. She certainly likes him, and can acknowledge that she finds him attractive. She's just never been willing to risk a relationship with someone quite so hedonistic as he.

So, perhaps a little speculatively, she leans back, sips her wine, and says, "I tend to let relationships develop naturally. But I am curious... have you been in a relationship before? I mean something more serious than simple pleasure..."

Lucifer has posed:
"Now and then," Lucifer answers, evenly. "Which, considering how long I've been around, admittedly is not that many. Usually I simply don't dwell into those emotions: it's easier." Lucifer's being lightly cocky, but the words and manner convey the ability to go into emotions of that nature: just that he holds back and doesn't.

"I am, you realize, an angel, not a demon," Lucifer chuckles. "We are very capable of the greatest of range." His jaw moves a little, as some resentful quality comes, and he releases a little huffed breath. "/Were/ I a demon, I think I would be quite a bit happier with my existence a lot of the time. Still, I don't strive to be an evil husk of murder, personally." Lucifer lets his head prop with more weight onto his hand, eyes dropping from Amanda and going without focus, into a memory or other place, perhaps. Not being razor-focused on her is exposing a weak side - in that his guard is down.

"My last foray into this didn't go anywhere - as the sorceress wished to continue enjoying many others. Which is fine ... just lightly disappointing."

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda nods. "You're definitely not a demon," she agrees. Whatever else people may have said about him over the millennia, she's seen him in his glory -- to some small extent, anyway. It's enough. She knows the difference.

That he was disappointed his former partner continued to play the field while they were together is also a mild surprise. And, perhaps, a more pleasant one than she expected. "I'm sorry to hear that. I've never been one to play the field," she admits. "I've had one night stands, yes. But we both knew going in what it was and -- as far as I know -- neither of us were attached to another. That's not my style." She smiles at him. "So, if you're telling me that being in a relationship with you would involve a modicum of commitment, I can entirely respect that. Indeed... I prefer it." Open relationships can work, but, whatever the gender of her partner, she's always tended toward monogamy.

Lucifer has posed:
"It could, mmmhm," Lucifer answers, as if agreeing that it's possible for her to get a side of fries instead of a salad with her meal. No problem for the kitchen. "Sorry? Ah! I didn't mean to imply she /cheated/. We were not yet in a relationship of a closed kind. It was not an agreement she wnated to do. Hence... disappointing, not... tear her head off angry injustice," Lucifer laughs. He had wanted one, she didn't, and he let it go. With disappointment, but nothing more. He can take that rejection with annoyance but not anger.

"Please DO think it over. I am ... a lot. I do prefer you think deeply before selling your soul to the lord of Hell," Lucifer teases with a dry self-mockery in it. It isn't a brag, though - it's a negative, as if he'd made fun of something that wasn't a pride source.

"Though I expect some favor of seeing well beyond that particular little aspect." Lucifer pauses, and then does a true flex. His aura expands heavily, as he allows his energy to unfurl a little. Warmth of a mixed source arrives - heat, but not specifically hellfire. A mild opening of angel wings, a glitter and churn of them, like outlines of magical voluminous mass. They have enough feather to them to have physical presence, though they are just an inch past incoporeal and in reality.

Why? A little bit of peacocking. Making himself look better. He glances back a little to check them, for some reason. As if to make sure they're there and good, and seems relieved his display went as planned.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda chuckles. "Believe it or not, I actually didn't think you'd torn her head off." She's never seen him react in such an extreme manner to mere disappointment. She wouldn't be surprised to see him walk away, however. He may have an eternity of time to waste however he sees fit, but wasting his time on something that doesn't bring with it some sort of satisfaction doesn't seem his style.

As he entreats her to consider it, she gives him a long speculative look, brows rising as he puts on his little display. In the end, she gives him a more serious look and a nods. "I'll weigh it," she says. "It's no light thing you're asking." If she thought his groupies were interested before... boy would that change the dynamic entirely. It really is something to consider. "And, either way, I'm flattered. I don't imagine too many people catch your interest so well..."

Lucifer has posed:
There was an outward wall of pride of how awesome he is, with an underbelly of watching for reaction. He wanted her to be impressed, or perhaps just /accepting/ of the wings or whatever it is he ended up manifesting.

Sometimes things are less angelic. But he gambled with himself, and what would come forward, and it was a good gamble. ... though not a surprise, he is frighteningly good at judging certain odds. Except, maybe, when they directly relate to his emotions. Then things are more fuzzy.

He doesn't remove the wings at all, just seems pleased - subtly, as he hides most of it - and folds them back, leaving them present. It does mean his aura is leaking into the room, though. It isn't quite the same scent of a hellmouth, but it has the same sort of low burning quality, magically. Like holy flames burn the evil, but just feel warm to the pure and good.

"I'm happy to flatter you. But really, it is an offer to see what happens. If it's enjoyed, then it is." He's removing the weight from it, easing it up. And then slowly starts to move to his feet. "I do need to go. I'd flatter you with a farewell kiss, should you like. But if not ... it can wait." He's being cheeky, without expectation - just playing. Such gestures have lesser meaning to him, until certain agreements are made. He's free to kiss or play with whoever, including her, after all.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
There is a part of Amanda that actually wants to touch those wings, just to see if the feathers are real. She's often wondered how much of that might be nothing more than a remarkably persistent illusion. No surprise, given illlusions are her specialty.

She rises as he does, reisting the temptation to test that wing, enjoying the sensation of the brighter side of his presence. She's felt the darker side before now to know the difference keenly. She considers his words and then chuckles softly and tilts her head up toward him. "Whatever I decide later -- whatever you decide..." She's aware his moods are mercurial and this may be nothing more than an unconscious attempt to alleviate boredom or nothing more than an extension of his good mood. "Kiss me good night for now, and we'll leave the future to take care of itself."

Lucifer has posed:
There's a surprise to his look as she stands and accepts his flirty suggestion. A grin immediately shows up. Lucifer likes being successful with a temptation, with a gamble - particularly one he didn't expect to land. He would have bet against himself and lost, on that one. His smile is still very present as he steps up and draws his hands to very subtly rest to either side of her face, just near the jaw. Barely a presence of fingers.

But his eyes dance sideways to the left folded wing, then her eyes. Perceptive of the sense of attention, or maybe keen onto that most people can't ignore them. "They're just part of my body. Sometimes they're this gross heaven fluff, sometimes not. Might need to appreciate me both at my fluffiest and my best," Lucifer comments, as if off-put. But he does open and draw them forward - not to envelope or trap, but they are in easy range of touch. He may have just assumed she'd want to. If she does, there's a strong sense of magic to them - they reek of some sort of thick healing-toned essence. Those wings might ressurrect: a sobering thought, perhaps, of how inhuman Lucifer is, and how different his awareness and perceptions of things could be.

Still, he brings in a warmed goodnight kiss, a pleasant contact, but any lingering warmth is like the cinnamon of the wine: a leftover, but not from continued touch. His gaze shifts to a more quiet uncertainty, as he tries to decide how he feels about it, too. Is this dangerous to him? He hadn't thought it through to that extent. But pleasure is good - and his smile recovers, sly.

Amanda Sefton has posed:
Amanda lays her hands gently on Lucifer's chest, a playful expression on her features as she leans into kiss him. She likes him when he's like this far better than when those wings are black and leathery. So, it's somewhat inevitable that she lets the back of her hand draw over that 'heavenly fluff' when they break the kiss.

Magic calls to magic and the innate healing magic in her own nature sings with the sense of the healing magic in those soft feathers. That was *not* there the night at the cathedral. But, then, neither was this side of him. Perhaps it's no surprise. It is something to ponder, though.

But, later.

Now, she chuckles softly, the sound of it a warm, throaty sound. "I might, yes," she agrees. "You are a very complicated person, Lucifer. Unexpected, unpredictable, but never uninteresting. Life would never be boring with you."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer slides his eyes sideways as she passes her hand along the wing, after the kiss parts. And with something akin to a light ... shame?... the wings are put away. Though if pressed he probably could not convey why he reacted that way, either. Regret of showing that side? Dismay it's a part of things, yet also using it to peacock? He's a tangle internally. Her statement of him being complicated is accurate: complex mess. Volatile yet holding onto a belief that he's patient.

"I admit - the ability to bore is not in my extensive skillset," Lucifer deadpans, then smiles, oddly serene, and takes his leave - via the door, like always. "Goodnight, sorceress."

No flex of weird balcony-flight or anything comes as he goes. Just the elevator. The time of travel is a good time to think... and reflect.