Re: Diner: Hel & Lucifer
She had no expectation that he would reveal his reasoning to her. Her invitation had not been issued with an expectation that he could simply tell her the things she was interested in knowing. Interested, mind you, and not need, because the need was not to know his motivation. He was, to Nel's eyes, quite young, and that was fitting. His religion, his creator, was nascent, and hers was aged and hoary, and here they sat.
In truth, she had little use for christian faith. It was so dreadfully puritanical, and she preferred a good temple and sacrifice any day of the week. But she was wise, and she knew her surroundings. These repressed believers could be useful to her some day, and she wasn't bound by things like balances or agreements or heavenly fathers. But she acknowledged that, to the people in this place, this man was terror in a handsome suit, and it was always easiest to go about one's business when terror was firmly thought to be elsewhere. "They rather do concern themselves with your potential presence," she agreed of the town's people. She laughed then, a warm, soft, confident laugh. "Oh, darling, we both know it doesn't matter a fig how much is true and how much is not. What matters is what they believe to be true." Her lingering smile said she would stroke his ego no further. He didn't require her to.
She had warned him out of kindness and nothing more. Or, rather, should we say respect? None of hers were human, and, therefore, they weren't his to play with. "Why would I answer that?" she asked of his question, the same one he would not, she knew, answer for her. She gave him a smile, a true one, because gods liked adversaries, even ones they were at peace with. It kept things interesting. "Tell me," she said as she stood, leaving a generous overflow of payment upon the counter, "will you keep me apprised of your adventures? I can do the same. Two harmless old fools telling stories." She was slipping her jacket on.