interstellar5555 | "La varietà piace."

Who: Luci and Squalo. And you?
What: Lucifer and Lucifer walk into a bar...
When: Feb 5th-ish
Where: some unfortunate bar-like establishment in Vista City
Warnings: shamelessness, violence, Carnies, Squalo, the usual.

[ So, they agreed to go have a "quality bitch night". Then shit happened. Then shit was mostly dealt with, as much as possible at least, and obviously that means it's time for a perfectly respectable outing! Which apparently includes outfits like these, drinks, drugs, not banging, and leaving the place in ruins. ]

[ All in due time, though. It'll start off tame enough. Well, if a pair of mostly dressed rockstars making suggestive poses at/on the bar counter counts as "tame". Nobody's allowed too close, though, and the accompanying security's been instructed accordingly. It's a watch-not-touch sort of deal. Well, unless you like getting your bones broken, in which case everything's an option. ]

[ At some point they might take over the stage. Maybe even duet, though for the most part Squalo seems happier with the instruments and providing the occasional growls and screams. You should feel lucky if you happen across this performance; it's what live strives to be. Breathing, pulsing, genuine music. ]

[ Later they can be found drinking at the bar, or slipping away and returning in suspiciously improved spirits. At some point, things will start flying, breaking, and setting on fire. You know, just good fun. ]

(( OOC: feel free to happen across them at whatever point of time! please specify who you want to interact with in the subject line (though the other might threadjack at some point if allowed), you can have them both or one at a time etc etc. ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Aw, pictures of baby Squalo would have certainly made her night, but the fact that Tamara doesn't have any on her doesn't exactly strike Luci as weird.

"Next time," she says, patting Tamara's hand. "I want to know if he ever napped in his cello case, if it was almost bigger than him."

After all, she's just his teacher ~~in this verse~~.

"That's a rather particular fantasy," he says with a flash of teeth her way. ...lbr he probably did at some point.

"Perhaps. I've never seen it for myself. But it would be comfy if one is dead tired, desperate, sleepy. and tiny..." Tamara wonders.

"Yes, he probably did."

"Shush, I'm going to pack every embarrassing, adorable image into my head that I can," she says, batting at his shoulder and turning back to Tamara. The answer pleases her and she grins and barks a laugh.

"And how long did it take for him to stop giving you lip and trust your expertise?"

He huffs and turns away, motioning for the bartender to get him another drink. He'll probably let them talk for a while, unless something of particular injustice was said.

"A couple weeks I believe. It wasn't easy. You see, Squalo wasn't entirely a blank canvas when I went to him. It was my job to make his notes beautiful and skilled and complex. And well, when you know a skill, you don't necessary want people to tell you what to do. His father was about to hire someone from Europa before he found me. I was cheaper." And would keep her mouth shut about what he does to his son if he went out of place or risk getting fired. (But nurtured seeds of rebellion in Young Squalo nonetheless. Guess who took him to see his first Rock Concert?)

"Cheaper maybe, but probably better for him. Sorry darling, I can't see you dressing in a flawless tuxedo every night to play some Chopin for $500 a pop," Luci elbows Squalo gently and grins. "Fuck the expensive teachers, you got someone who got you to lick a cello."

Obviously that was Tamara's doing, Luci at least never saw Squalo get disapproving looks from his teacher... And she's the one posting pictures of herself in her underwear on Twitter.

(He's probably still grateful to her for that.)

"Hey, I thought of that myself," he quips back and sticks a tongue out at Luci in return. He really can't argue that Tamara's influence might have inspired it, though.

Well, that, and everyone knows that sex sells, anything from car promos and chocolate to, yes, even music. Why wouldn't he get as much attention to himself as possible if he has the tools to do so?

"I personally wouldn't lick the neck of my cello. I prefer to be subtle with such things..." That's because she hasn't seen it for herself. Also they're are other ways to advertise her... appeal. (Perhaps a spread in Amuselad or Self-destructLasses might be in the future.)

Luci trades Squalo's tongue for her own, sticking it out and grinning like some kind of demon statue.

"Yeah?" Luci turns back to Tamara, unable to stem her imagination and curiosity. "What 'subtle' things?"

"Oh, you know, like hanging out with questionable crowds and posing in fetish gear." Taking another swig.

"An's photoshoots get pretty risque sometimes. She likes leather, latex, even fancy ropework. Some of which have even made it's way to my wardrobe. So Squalo is right. Also isn't everyone in Pride just a little questionable?" She replies calmly.

"A little? You're sitting here with cello-licker and the Pride bicy--" She stops as it hits her, what she's saying about herself. She's never thought of herself like that, because it's demeaning to equate herself to an object. But that was how she'd felt with Lesedi-- like an object.

"Who wants another drink?" she asks, smacking the bar and trying to cover the slip.

"Oh come on, I'm not that popular," he quips. Whether that's an intentional save or if he really considers himself to be more bicycle-y than Luci is anyone's guess. Either way, he'll hop right not that suggestion.

"Three more of the same!" And a shit-eating grin. "And what will you have, ladies?"

At that slip, Tamara can't help but make a face out of confusion, but she decides to go with it. Maybe she'll ask Squalo about it later.

"Sazerac, and keep them coming."

"La varietà piace."

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