Lucifer Morningstar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
my_own_advocate) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2021-09-02 11:33 am
my_own_advocate) wrote in fandomtownies2021-09-02 11:33 am
Entry tags:
The Perk, Thursday Morning
If there was any madness afoot, it had blissfully flown right over Lucifer's head, as per usual. He had been enjoying his week, and he was planning to continue enjoying his week by wandering down to the Perk and inspiring the baristas into their best Extreme Shake work.
"I think you may have outdone yourself," he said, looking at the massive tower of strawberry before him.
He whipped out his phone. "I am putting this all over Insta," he promised, "And if you let me film you making the next one, TikTok."
He'd figure out how to take the thing with him to his seat in a minute. Social media were calling!
[[ open! ]]
"I think you may have outdone yourself," he said, looking at the massive tower of strawberry before him.
He whipped out his phone. "I am putting this all over Insta," he promised, "And if you let me film you making the next one, TikTok."
He'd figure out how to take the thing with him to his seat in a minute. Social media were calling!
[[ open! ]]
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Eliot eyed the man's suit again, with clear appreciation. He himself was still wearing his royal Fillorian garb, freshened this morning with a few handy little spells, though his crown was still tucked away safely. Maybe he'd ask about the man's tailor. But first:
"I don't suppose they put as much art into their lattes as their . . . whatever that is?"
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He waved at Eliot. "They'll either bungle yours ironically or make a thing out of it, I imagine."
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"I've been informed that there's whimsy," he said. "That may or may not reach a lethal level. Also something something time travel, I didn't really try for details on that one. It always just gives me a headache."
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"See, and if my actual teenagerhood had ended that way. . . . At least anywhere but on the internet. . . ."
He shook his head.
"I didn't catch your name?"
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Eliot tilted his head. "Quick question, though: is the name a coincidence, a self-chosen thing, or are you actually, like . . . Satan?"
He did not seem too terribly dismayed by the possibility that he was talking to the Devil, no.
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He spooned some of the boozy milkshake out of his glass and sipped it.
"You wouldn't happen to have found yourself served by a terse brunette, would you?"
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"I was, yes. She tried to pass of 'beer' as a signature cocktail at first, but eventually mixed up a couple perfectly passable jack roses."
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“Well, she’s lovely. But yes, please do. She could do with a bit of flair.”
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You may want to specify you meant for dining, there, Lucifer.
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The place they were currently crashing had a fridge, a microwave, and a hot plate, but not much else. Also, they were far more interested in mixology than actual cooking.
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