[open post, as proof of existence]

[mr_mandros]

Raphael Theo Mandros sits near a window, his arms folded on a table. Near his elbow is a half-filled cup of tea, steam still rising from the liquid, and a still warm tea pot. In front of him is an open book (a book of poetry - Lord Byron, this time around), which lay forgotten on "When We Two Parted." The room is dimly lit by a single lamp -

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[reign_inhell]

Lucifer walks past the open door, and catching sight of who is sitting at the table within, pauses. He steps into the room, stopping right inside, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

He waits for Raphael to notice him.

[mr_mandros]

Raphael doesn't notice Lucifer at first, and so continues to look out the window for a few moments longer. As if rousing himself, he shakes his head slowly and drinks from the cup. When he glances over to the door, he half-chokes on his tea and replaces the cup back on the table. He runs a hand over his face as though to hide his embarrassment and smiles uneasily.

"Good evening, Lucifer."

[reign_inhell]

Lucifer hadn't meant to surprise him, really, but he had seemed so distant, staring out of the window, that it seemed wrong to interrupt him. But now he pulls a chair up to the table that Raphael's sitting at.

"Hello, Mr. Mandros." He says dryly, with a small smirk at Raphael's initial reaction. He begins to pour himself a cup of tea without invitation. "How're you this evening, old sport?"

[mr_mandros]

"Better than most other evenings," Raphael says vaguely, a poor excuse for 'conversational' if there ever was one. "Yourself?"

(And he may or may not shift his chair closer to the wall when Lucifer takes a seat, who can tell?). He looks down at the table and, after suddenly remembering the poem, quickly snaps the book shut, dropping it onto his lap. Raphael rolls his eyes as Lucifer helps himself to a cup, murmuring sarcastically, "You wouldn't happen to want some tea, would you?"