milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Lucifer is still sitting down, bare feet propped up on the table, balancing rather dangerously on two legs of the chair. He throws and catches one of the black glass chess pieces.

His eyes are closed.

[OOC: Mun is only around for a couple of hours and Lucifer is...not in the best of moods. If your character doesn't know him well already it might be wisest to tag another time.]

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*She approaches him softly, but red glass and garnet beads still chime in her hair.*

My lord?
My lord Morningstar, well met.

His eyes don't open, but the piece stays in the palm of his hand and a smile spreads across his face; slowly, slowly.

"Well met, prophetess."

Have you been playing at the game of kings?

*she passes her hand above his closed eyelids, in a slight, forgotten, divinatory gesture. But probably she divines nothing.*

I have not seen you in some time. Your son, I have seen; he is a strange boy, all of stone.

I was... up there. I do not wonder that you left it.

His eyes open and are clear of anger as he looks up at her.

"It had its charms, for a long while."

The smile stays on his lips.

"I hear you have been wearing a face not your own, on Hallows Eve."

I wanted wings.

*she looks at him as if there's no good way to say what she wants to express. Her mouth twists, her eyebrows twist.*

You dwelled so long in that pale place of forgetting. And yet you are....
as you are.

Not like them.
I fear them more than I fear you.

"Perhaps wise, prophetess."

Lucifer sits up and turns his chair to face her, reaching out a hand in a familiar gesture.

"You have not changed so very much, from what I see."

*She takes his hand, after a fashion. Her fingertips brush into his palm, and then she steps back.*

I am forgotten. The Kassandra-skin has not changed, but inside...

*a shrug, a gesture.*

All of it is up there. War. Pain. Things that... men did to me. All of that is gone, but so much of the good is gone too.

I want it back. They did not ask me. They did not tell me it would be so.

"No. They do not make a habit of sharing consequences, up there."

He sighs and looks at her more closely.

"Koutali?"

*She hangs her head.*

I cannot speak to the snakes any more, my lord. I do not know where my pythia bides.

Raguel looks hard at the precarious position of the chair, the closed eyes, the flying glass.

"I am so damn impressed. You're the master of temptation even when you're not paying attention."

Lucifer shoots him a cold glance that warms with dark amusement.

"Tempted, Raguel?"

His eyes go back to the legs of the chair, to the glass, to Lucifer's occupied hands.

"You have no idea."

Lucifer gives a quiet laugh. Gentle. Shadowed. Musical.

...of course he's doing it on purpose.

"Go on, then."

One hand lifts in a sudden movement toward him, pulling the chess piece out of the air before it falls.

"I don't think what I'd like to do would end very happily." He looks closely at the glass, smooth under his fingers.

"I thought you preferred toying with larger game than pawns."

"Everything has a use," he says calmly.

The tiny flame flares up again under Raguel's fingertips, deep inside the cool glass.

"And a pawn can gain power, if you push it far enough."

He watches the flames flicker for a moment, warily.

"You know, I never knew the Morningstar's light could be destructive. Never got close enough to find out, I guess. Afterward."

"Mass is detroyed to create energy. Otherwise all you get is transformation and entropy. Chaos from chaos."

His glance is ironic, but not quite confident.

"And we can't have that, can we?"

"No. Apparently not. But you were able to keep from destroying mass, weren't you."

It isn't quite a question. There's a short internal struggle before he speaks again.

"How did you do it?"

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*Kassandra flattens back against Lucifer's chair, as if from a striking snake.*

You are. One of them. There. You come from there.

You have that smell of light, and sleep, and cold.

*He blinks at her, taking an automatic step back as she flinches away*

I... are you all right?

I will not go with you. I will not stop in that place again, to sleep myself away while time washes past like the sea.

You cannot take me back there with you. My lord Morningstar will prevent you!

*A moment of confused flailing, and then he looks more carefully*

Ah. Well, no worries there. I couldn't take you even if you wanted me to.

pride comes before a fall

Any more than the Morningstar could stop me.

*She stares up at him, through him, seeing all the crystal pieces not-quite-true that make up his eyes.*

You do not know where you walk. And yet you are no refugee: a refugee does not burn his own city and bring the war to his own gates, and you have done that, long ago, and you walk in the place you have made for yourself.

You will not touch me. You are of that kind that stole my memories from me, with talk of sleep and of peace, and if you touch me, I will make you fall.

*And then all the clarity leaves her, and she is neither madwoman nor temptress, just afraid and maladroitly clinging on to Lucifer's chair.*

"I didn't bring it," he hisses, before he can stop himself.

"And I wouldn't be here if I had any other choice. If I thought--"

A long, deep breath, and his voice is slightly more controlled.

"I wouldn't take you anywhere against your will. It's not my function and it's not my desire."

What is your function?
You should speak to my lord Morningstar of form, and function, and desire.

*She cocks her head, more curious now than frightened. Wheels are half-turning in her mind, ancient ideas stirring.*

You have no desire at all. You are not built for it. It is not your function.
So you have told my kind for a thousand upon a thousand years. So you lie, until you believe it.

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