16466/Knocking on Hell's Door

Knocking on Hell's Door
Date of Scene:	09 August 2024
Location:	Club Lux, Melville
Synopsis:	Spawn comes to Lux and makes a deal with the Devil Himself.
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Spawn

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Lucifer has posed:
Weekday nights are hit and miss for Lux. There's always a small crowd of the usual guests. The business men and their little parties to impress partners with drinks and sexy people dancing in cages. The drinks are flowing, money is spending and beats are dropping by the DJ playing in a hidden booth somewhere near the stage. With a dance floor in front of it, and a random piano near that. Otherwise it's bars, stools and booths with skimpy clad ladies and gentlemen wandering around with trays of drinks and food to serve the random bursts of clientele.

And from a little alcove on the second floor, right near the spiral staircase that connects above and below, stands the man himself. Lucifer S. Morningstar. Adorned in a intricately tailired suit of grey with a soft pink undershirt. His tie is spotted grey and pink and he has a pink handkerchief that matches his shirt tucked neatly in his left breastpocket. He holds a glass of whiskey in one hand, sipping on it casually, while watching the crowds as he is want to do on nights like this.

Spawn has posed:
The guy who opens the door and walks into Club Lux is dressed for the party. His suit is real sharkskin, his shoes real suede, his tie a tacky bolo, and his shoulder-length brown hair is slicked back with enough product that clumps of it are frozen in place. A hurricane couldn't stir that coiffure. This impeccably dressed guy is one Lester Moreno, one of the highest ranking lieutenants of a New York drug lord. Lester worked his way up by murder, both business and personal, and that's why he strides into a Bludhaven nightclub with a Hellspawn hot on his heels.

The Spawn itself is unseen and unheard. It is seven feet tall, it is shrouded in black armor and completely enveloped by its blood-red Necroplasmic cape, and if it could breathe then Lester would have felt its breath on the top of his head. The way Lester blows through the door, letting it swing carelessly shut behind him, the Spawn has to quickly phase-shift to pass through its solid matter rather than let it shatter against him. Once inside, Lester makes a bee-line for the bar and the Spawn follows along. Nobody seems to be able to see or hear the giant thing, or if they do then they do a great job of pretending they don't.

Lucifer has posed:
It's not Lester's appearance that gains attention, but the one following him. Almost chasing him. Tailing would perhaps be the best word to use there. Lucifer gives a side glance, but it's because he has a way of speaking with his staff that no one knows about. They hardly think the bartenders and waiters are worth a grain of salt much less consider them anything but human. Demons. All of them. Under Lucifer's employ.

He turns, and then it's one step. Two. And he's next to Lester, popping a hand onto the man's shoulder and giving him a wide grin. "Lester, you old sod. Why didn't you tell me you were back in town..." He asks the man, but gives a side glance to the space behind the drug lord. "It's good to see you. Remember your first drink is on me."

Hard to know if even Lester knew he was being trailed, but Lucifer steps in the space between drug lord and chaser, giving a tilt of his head. The air grows just a tad thicker for a moment as he then speaks, "I do not know who you are, or where you came from. But in this club specifically, I do not allow violence of any kind. Not against my patrons or my staff. Stay for a drink, or begone from here. Do not test me." It's this and then the air softens again and he's back to all smiles for the crowd.

Spawn has posed:
The Hellspawn stands there, staring down at Lucifer with those eyes of burning balefire. To say that he's surprised to be seen might be an understatement, but to say that he's dumbstruck that the little man who saw him would dare speak up to him is a gentle euphemism. The shrouded head whips up and around, taking in the "people" scattered around the club. The demons, who make themselves known by looking his way, get marked quickly before he turns back to Lucifer. Chains rattle under his cape, but he does not become visible to the normals.

Telepathically, he shoots an image of Malebolgia at Lucifer's mind, along with the minds of the demons in the crowd. It's the great demon who made the deal, the terrible King of Hell who sent the Spawn back to the Earth. That image is followed by endless rows of Hellspawns in rank and file, with just one up in front. The last thing sent is a string of words spoken in a deep, grating snarl, but the sound itself is a hallucination: 'Stay out of my way.'

Lucifer has posed:
Those blue eyes of Lucifer's narrow and then begin to flicker with hellfire as if it was always naturally there. He takes in the vision that he's given. Smirks at the Malebolgia, and almost seems to flick it away with a thought of his own. "You and your supposed army don't scare me. What you have in hundreds, I have in thousands. What you have in thousands, I have in millions. Anything you think you can bring at me, I will have ten times more." He speaks, the air thick around them once again, because he won't have this voice scaring his patrons. It's that deep guttural snarl that is a mix of human and demon alike. "One chance to understand who I am. Boy. And who makes the rules in this place. I will stand in your way if who or what you are chasing are within these four walls. YOU stay out of MY way here."

The air doesn't relax this time, or soften in any way - but his voice begins to. "This is a safe haven for all to come within and enjoy their time. Villian or hero, it matters none, nor what part of the universal race you belong to. Mine is a haven. If you only wish to bring harm, then you are not welcome here. So. What will it be? Peace. Or departure?"

Spawn has posed:
This time the Spawn's voice echoes only in Lucifer's ears. "You're not listening, halfwit." The chains don't just rattle this time, but make themselves known by emerging directly from the liquid-like fabric of that red cape that surrounds the Hellspawn. A dozen of them writhe in the air like snakes dancing for a charmer, each darting toward Lucifer as if they desperately wanted to taste his blood but the being in the cape holds them at bay. "Show me your thousands, or quit calling attention to me before I take you to Hell instead of your greasy pal Lester."

Lucifer has posed:
"Oh calm down. No one else knows this conversation is going on. I made sure of that. I didn't come up from Hell on permanent vacation without SOME measures being taken to protect who and what I am and they are..." Lucifer motions, and the demons make themselves even more known. Then there's the screams of tormented souls that he calls up from the depths of Hell itself. "Have you not pieced it together yet, boy? You are -nothing- to me but a speck from my domain. I. Am. Lucifer Morningstar. King of Hell. So if you REALLY wanna pull me back there. Go ahead. I'll toss you into a pit so fast again it'll make your head spin and then some."

Spawn has posed:
At this point, Spawn is plain incredulous. It doesn't show, unless you can read the expression in the eyes that burn with green fire. It's hardly a surprise that Malebolgia lied to him about who rules in Hell, or even that Spawn himself might have misunderstood the pecking order, or both at the same time.

"I followed this slime to see where he goes and what he does," the giant thing finally transmits back to Lucifer, after a good long minute of internal conflict. "How do you speak aloud without the others seeing and hearing you do it?" He doesn't bother to ask what "rank" Lucifer holds in Hell. The man he used to be, Al Simmons, knows damned well who Lucifer and Morningstar refer to.

Lucifer has posed:
"A simple trick of the senses. Putting you and me into a sort of tunnel where only we can know each other's presence and words. Though, most everyone here knows my name. They just either truly do not believe I am who I am... or they think I'm putting on a show. I'm not. And it's been proven a time or two..." Lucifer offers and then tilts his head. "Lester? He comes here every so often. Cuts a few deals, has a few drinks and then goes about his merry. And I'm not telling you that you can't touch him at all. Once he leaves here? If he ends up with his neck broken in an alley way...I don't give a shit. But I have a reputation to uphold, you see? So I would kindly ask that you refrain from violence here. Rather sit, have a drink. I'll even show you to the VIP section if it's a worry that people will see you." The tension begins to fade again, now that Lucifer has sort of proven his point.

"Oh, and that boss of yours... he does exist. Has a section of... some bit of a Hell... off in..Wonderland or something. I only control what I am bound to..." He considers. "It can get complicated."

Spawn has posed:
Spawn lets out a low, dark chuckle. Hallucination or not, it's a sound like grinding teeth. "The deals are why I followed him. I would have listened, and known who to go after next. " He falls back a step and looks around the room again. "If you removed us both from their senses, what have you done to mine?"

Lucifer has posed:
"To your senses? Nothing. Why would I need to do anything to your senses?" Lucifer says this, seeming more calm now than he did a moment ago. The hellfire that burned in his eyes has faded so they're back to their blue hue. "Though, I suppose you might have to be more specific? Is there something you can or cannot sense now that you could before?" Then he smirks. "If all you need is information from him, then get what you need. I simply do not condone any sort of violence in my club. Again, reputation and all that..." And he is surely NOT going to speak of the violence that -has- occurred here. Much to the fault of his brethren from above.

Spawn has posed:
The giant Hellspawn evidently has the impression that Lucifer, himself, could alter his own senses as easily as a mere mortal's. The reassurance does little to relax him, but his dancing chains withdraw and his cloak parts in front. No point wasting his own Hellfire or Necroplasma or whatever they call it, if he's invisible anyway. The blood-red cape withdraws until it hangs down his back, fluttering as if in a slight breeze even though there isn't any. The glowing green eyes turn back to regard Lucifer directly.

"I want to know more about your Wonderland," his voice continues to rumble only in Lucifer's mind. "And if you *are* Lucifer, the Morningstar, then I have a deal for you." There is no mouth on his mask, and not even a colored slash to imply one, but he projects a hallucinatory image of a Cheshire smile spreading across his featureless face.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer tilts his head and gives a raised brow. "Well then. That's a turn I did not expect this to take..." He looks around and then beckons the other being to follow him with a wave of his hand. "Best to go ahead and remove ourselves from this place. I have priavte booths a little further back." He turns then and begins to walk, but also continues speaking. "Let's see. If the Hellfire eyes didn't convince you. What will? Shall I simply show you my true form? You can choose angel or devil, I can take on either. Or shall I simply take us to Hell? Since you are a hellspawn, there's no protection needed for you.." He's candid. Open. As if talking about it as if casual conversation didn't bother him in the slightest.

But he has another secret as to why that he's not telling.

Spawn has posed:
"I've taken you at your word," rumbles the Spawn's telepathically projected voice. He falls into step behind Lucifer, each 400 pound footfall vibrating through the floor but making no sound at all. "I don't yet know if Malebolgia is your underling or your equal, but you know, and I've told you that he hand-picked *me* to lead his armies against Heaven and Earth. I think you would have backed down by now, if you weren't who say you are." A beat. "Or we can arm-wrestle by comparing shapeshifting ability. Your call."

Lucifer has posed:
A booth. Deceptively simple to look at, but if it can hold the weight of the Juggernaut, it should be able to hold the weight of Spawn. He actually gives a chuckle as he sits down and shakes his head. "I appreciate you taking me at my word. I've...heard...of this Malebolgia. It's very likely he is either over another realm of Hell...or he is someone trying to do as a few others have and pretend to be the boss while I'm not around..." He pauses. "It's one reason why I had to agree to go back to Hell every so often and throw my weight around."

There's a pause as a waitress comes by with a glass of whiskey for him and...did the Hellspawn drink? He was rude and never asked. "If you wish something, do let us know." He offers before the waitress leaves. "But what, precisely, do you want to know about my Wonderland? It's Hell. People get tortured in various ways and I own a black onyx throne atop a jagged tower of obsidian..."

Spawn has posed:
"And *I* am constructed from the Hellfire that burns the souls of the Damned, and *I* burn no differently than they do," Spawn picks up in the same instant that Lucifer finishes speaking. "The more work I do, the weaker I become. The pain dulls until it vanishes entirely, and then I find myself returned to Hell. There's a place, only one place, where I can relax and recharge." The big thing had folded himself into the booth when they reached it, and now stares balefully across the table at Lucifer from inside the shadow cast by his cape's high collar.

He concludes, "If you are here, then I think you have the same sanctuary. Or the same kind. I want access to your gate, and I want to know what deal I made with Malebolgia."

Lucifer has posed:
"This is my sanctuary. I got tired. Bored. Listless. Hell is nothing but the same dull every day for me. I cannot imagine what it's like for a Hellspawn..." Lucifer admits this and takes a sip of his whiskey. "My gate? My gate to Hell? I -am- the gate. Well. My wings are the gate. Tho I could open a way any time you wish." This much explained and then he tilts his head once more. "So you want me to try and find this Malebolgia and ask what - precisely - the deal was that you made with them?"

Spawn has posed:
Spawn rolls one shoulder in a sort of shrug, while the movement of his glowing eyes indicates that he shakes his head. "I don't want Malebolgia to know that I asked," he answers. "And if you choose to tell me, then I don't want him to know that I know. If you think on it, I believe you will find many ways that having a Hellspawn's gratitude can benefit you in return." He pauses as if thinking, then adds: "I do not feel the presence of a gate, the way I do at the place given me for sanctuary. I do not feel the surge of Hellfire, or the strength that I have in that place."

Lucifer has posed:
"Ah. So I need to find out such information as sneakily as possible." Lucifer says this as a statement rather than question. Then he tilts his head and gives a chuckle. "Ah. It would likely be more felt upstairs, in my home. I hardly access my gate here in the club unless it is a dire emergency." This offered before he takes another sip of his whiskey. "I can promise that I will be discreet and try to gather the information you seek. I suppose that your end of this deal is giving me the benefit of having favor of a Hellspawn should I ever need it." A pause. He seems to be debating this in his head. "That is an agreeable deal. Course, it's also unofficial because if you truly have a deal with a ruler of Hell - I cannot supercede with my own contract. Plus. Warning bells. Which we don't want." Pause. Consider. "Have I adequately summarized things?"

Spawn has posed:
Spawn answers, "Thoroughly," with an abrupt nod of the armored head. "And I will abide by your rules, here, or enforce them if your retinue has any difficulty. I'll consider it an homage to my liege, through his allies, until he tells me different. If you have a ritual, or a glyph, then I'll dedicate some of the souls I send to Hell to your circle instead of mine. Everybody wins."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer nods. "Then we have an accord. Do as you feel you can. You can likely even find a couple churches in my name around this city and they may be able to tell you more than I ever could." He doesn't want to really BE a sort of godly figure - but even recent events have proven that his name holds more power than he may even give himself credit for. "I apprecite your willingness to abide by my rules while here. Again, whatever happens outside these walls is no concern of mine. So do with that as you wish." He smiles. "Now. You can either stay and enjoy, go get your information and then leave, or...whatever you wish. I do need to go handle some other business, if you will excuse me." A pause. "Though... what shall I call you?"

Spawn has posed:
"Spawn," the Hellspawn answers as he slips out of the booth. "Just Spawn," is repeated as he starts for the door. "Thank you for your patience and indulgence, Lucifer."