milliways_bar | (no subject)

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In the bar, an angel is moving.

He might have been sitting, still as a statue and pale as one, in the corner.

Or he might have come in by the door.

Xas has learned to blend, after so long a time wingless.

He stops by the bar, laying one hand on the surface lightly, almost wonderingly. And then he orders a glass of wine, white, and tasting delicately of fruit.

And then he finds an empty booth and sits, sipping his drink lazily and watching the people go by.

Xas has made quite a study of them, over the years, after all. Humans, that is. Possibly it's time for him to broaden his horizons.

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There's a very short - smoothly covered - moment of hesitation before Lucifer walks over and slides into the booth, setting his coffee down.

"You found it again, I see. Or did you never leave?"

Xas startles, as evidenced by the slight widening of his eyes, and the tightening of his hand on the stem of his glass.

There is a moment where he merely looks at Lucifer, open and slightly confused. He looks down at the wine for a moment, then back up. The confusion is gone, for the most part.

"I left. And then I came back. It is--"

He pauses for a moment, reflectively.

"--not so open here. I like that."

"Open in what way?"

Relaxed, this time. Oh so casual. If you looked very, very closely you'd see to what extent the casualness is forced, but not many could see that far.

"It's hard to see distance, here."

He pauses, biting his lip.

"Some of it is doubtless because of the walls. But some of it is because of that."

And he gestures to the window, outside of which the universe is ending in vast explosions of color.

"It's an interesting kind of certainty."

"Certainty in destruction?"

Lucifer smiles a little and looks at the window.

"Most here have become immune to it. All will end. Not the kind of damning fatalism that one wants to keep close."

"Wanting has little to do with things, on occasion."

He traces the bottom of his glass with his pinky.

"Though it might disprove your theory."

Xas is apparently still having trouble keeping this Lucifer separate from his.

"You're right. But denial is a wonderful human trait."

Solely human? Of course not.

"Theory?" he asks patiently, prepared for this conversation to be little more than a game of question-and-answer. Unavoidable, considering everything.

"Yes. You are, if I remember right, very fond of theories. They are usually interesting."

There is another pause.

"Earth is a distillery, you said. And Purgatory, too. Because God is collecting elements to use to create his own world."

He takes another sip of his wine, watching Lucifer curiously as he does so.

Lucifer puts down the cup, holding Xas' gaze.

Almost half a minute goes by.

"Because the current one is such a success," he says finally. His voice is like the wine he sometimes drinks; smooth, with bitterness dancing on the edge of the tongue. Xas would know the taste.

Xas blinks, eyes gone wide again.

"He didn't make this one. Or at least I do not think he did."

"Ah." A strange smile. "I will be interested to hear your evidence, but if you are right...your reality is a different one indeed."

Xas just watches him, half wary, half amused.

"God makes copies, and only copies. Is that not proof enough?"

Lucifer's fingers dance edgily on the table - tapping, not tapping, tapping, not tapping.

"Platonic philosophy from one such as you is...interesting. Which are the originals, then?"

Xas stills, then, though his eyes never leave Lucifer's face.

"I wouldn't know. That wasn't one of the questions I asked Him."

"He is not overfond of those who ask the difficult questions."

The tapping falls into a slow rhythm.

Xas leans back in his chair, very carefully. He can feel the press of the chair against his back. It is, after so long, not unpleasant.

"No. But he likes difficult answers."

There is no bitterness here. None.

"Difficult? I find that in the end there is one answer, and that quite easy: He works as He wishes, and there is an end to it."

Bitterness here, certainly, creeping in at the sides. Lucifer has not dealt lightly with Raguel's revelations.

"Sometimes he is subtle."

Xas does not sound like he appreciates this. Not at all.

"And sometimes he is obvious," Lucifer returns, lashing out.

He doesn't sound like he appreciates this.

Xas takes a sip of his wine, very carefully. The glass does not tremble.

"You should know. He gave me this face for a reason, after all."

And now the glass does tremble, and a thin rivulet of wine spills over his lip. He swipes it away with his tongue.

Lucifer's cup, almost empty and set on the table, does not tremble. It breaks. A quick sharp noise followed by the trickle of coffee across the wood.

"What?" Very, very soft.

"God does answer questions."

Xas' voice is casual, but his expression is anything but.

"He answered mine. I'm one of his copies, you see? Made before the original, so you would be distracted from your purpose. He needed an edge."

He laughs. It's empty.

"Consider me thoroughly distracted.

Which original do you mean?"

Xas watches him, unflinching.

"Christ. I was made first, but the idea was in place long before."

He sets the wineglass down, no longer trembling.

"It was to give him the advantage of surprise, in the desert."

"Christ?"

There's a hand across Lucifer's mouth. He might not even be aware it's there.

"Not in my version. I don't think I could..."

He pauses.