16259/Pookie, I'm hooooome!

Pookie, I'm hooooome!
Date of Scene:	11 May 2024
Location:	Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis:	Cupcake pentagrams, mountains of squishmallows and a self-actualized meltdown. Normal tuesday then.
Cast of Characters:	Sinister, Lucifer

---

Sinister has posed:
Straw hat on head, after coffee, cookie and diversion (and happy coincidence of being able to check on the 'kiddo')... the wanderer returns.

There WERE purchases, ones that occupy the entire of the large couch in its L-shape. And there is the box, with its Dark Side sticker holding the lid closed, set pride of place and with a lot of fussing, on the kitchen counter. The top is kissed with dark purple-red lipstick in true cupid-bow glory, rather than bee-stung ducklips. Those are a thing.

Nathanielle then placed a single black tulip on top of it all (It's the time of year for them) and went to go slip into something akin to indoor clothing, complete with the necessary raven slippers.

She can be found after this all, curled up in a black lace summer camisole affair and silk chemise beneath, curled up and apparently dozing on the gothic chaise longe, cuddling a plush jersey devil.

Yes. The major league team mascot kind of thing. Only, she's dressed it up in a little suit.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer returns from wherever he was. In all honesty, last night was an interesting one and he was actually hoping to hear some news in regard to following up with something but the news never came. Hopefully, that's a good sign.

The elevator doors ding just before they open, signifying his arrival. As he walks in, he sees the box on the counter, and then further sees the bags on the L-shaped sofa and then follows the trail to the dozing Nathanielle holding that Jersey Devil. He walks over towards the couch, trying to take small peeks inside the bags to maybe get an idea of where she's been shopping and then kneels in front of where she's curled up on the couch.

"You've been quite the busy woman today...any special occassion?"

Sinister has posed:
Some of them are fresh T-shirts of the graphic and occasionally comedic variety that Lucifer tends to favour, including a few pairs of fresh jeans. His size, perfect fits all. It's not like she does the laundry but she -is- observant.

There's also a bag full of baggies but the nose will tell THAT story, as Lucifer uncovers the spice and herb purchases. There's two of those and one is the kind that tends to get used for extra-culinary purposes.

And a lot of cuddly toys. She had that one time when there were little socks and tiny shoes everywhere, this time it's plushies; squishmallows mostly. It looks like she went and had a moment where she went everywhere she could and attempted to play Ash Catchum with them all.

She REALLY seemed to have fun with the monster line, some of which are hard to find. It was a distraction and a half.

The voice punctuates the dozing mind though like a splash of cool water and it's perhaps a little funny to watch Miss Sinister startling into wakefulness, as the hat tumbles off backwards and briefly, it looks like she just woke up in a nunnery and her without her habit on.

"Ohhhh, you're back!" The surprise turns to sublime, lashes lowering halfmast and the grin appearing coy. "Oh, just ... celebrating indulgence, avarice and for the time being, vanity. Happy unbirthday, Pookie."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer smiles a little, reaching to stroke her cheek gently as she startles awake. "I am back. Wasn't aware I was gone so long, but there you go." He offers and then looks back over to the bags. "Clothing, spices, stuffed animals...and there's a box of something on the kitchen counter that I haven't looked at yet." He leans over then to press a kiss to her forehead before standing up to head back to the kitchen.

"Love the hat by the by..." Saying this as he gets to the counter in the kitchen and looks down at the box. "The Darkside Bakery? Never heard of this place..." He breaks the seal just before lifting the tulip to take in it's scent and smiles at the color. "Black tulip. And a lipstick print. You really do know how to make a man feel special, my dearling."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister leans into the contact, in a somewhat feline manner. Petting the pretty thing is definitely a thing in this particular shape and mindset -- just beware of the lamia? Something of that nature. She unfolds the legs, stretches the toes to their very tips, then rolls herself languidly to her feet, still mildly a'glow from the kiss.

Up behind, arms about the waist, she leans around a bit, then detaches to lean forward against the counter, elbows on the granite-top to watch the deboxing. "Well, I try. And the innuendo of tulips is always a subtle little pick me up..." her eyebrows bounce up and down the once, plucking at her bottom lip with her pinky nail.

"New place actually... been there less than a sniff and a whistle, to the likes of us. Brit ex-pat though, there might actually be some good old fashioned tuck from blighty, soon... if the americana can sneak the sales in."

The 'tail' is swished as she bumps her weight from foot to foot in anticipation. "I hope you like it..."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer chuckles, leaning back against her as she comes up behind him and then opens the box. There's a blink as he looks down at the iced over cupcakes to spot the pentagram with the tiny heart in the middle. "Pentagram...black and red frosting...oh my dearling..." He says, turning his head and leaning back to kiss the cheek of Nathanielle before looking back to the box. "This...wait...is this thing made of cupcakes?" Asking as he reaches to peel the bottom part of the 'cake' away and chuckles.

"New place eh? Well I like it already if they were willing to do this up for you.." Then he unwraps the cupcake, breaks it in half, makes it into a sandwich and bites into the cake, getting his hands slightly covered in icing but it's the fun of it all. Turning to face her then, he chews and tastes while offering her a bite.

"This is actually delicious...little spicy kick to it....but it doesn't overpower the chocolate..." Offering his opinion on the cupcake itself and then he glances back over to the bags. "Are you going to give me a parade of stuffed animals soon?"

Sinister has posed:
"I think she uses chilli in the mix. I could smell it in the cafe -- " Sin grins at the reaction, looking quite happy with the end result. "Yep. A pentagram of individual treats, smothered in buttercream. Perfect for hosting, sharing, or just having fun with flavours, I feel."

A bite is taken, appreciated. "Mole. Very mexican undertone, isn't it?" Buttercream on fingertip, dabbed onto the end of her own nose playfully.

"Currently, it's a bit minimalist in there, but... it will grow as time goes by I have no doubt." She pauses, then quietly offers: "Ran into Nick. He seemed like he'd been having a kind of out-of-mind catharsis. And had forgotten to eat. He's been volunteering, I've no doubt to ... cope with all of that."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer leans over to lick the buttercream right off her nose-tip before he gives a grin. "Mole. Yes. Though something tells me that is not the only flavor hidden beneath the icing..." A glance back to it. "I kinda like how she smoothed over the icing to make the whole thing look like a cake...but it's actually individual cupcakes. That gives it a certain flare. Like everyone can enjoy their own flavors instead of buying a cake with a single flavor trying to please everyone."

As she begins to offer the fact that Nick was there, having forgotten to eat, he frowns. "You know. I haven't even gone to check on him. I was likely inwardly giving him a few days to let things settle. But I also don't want him to feel like anything I said was just said in the moment. I want him to know that I meant every word. Regardless of the truth, he is family. If not by blood than by bond." Saying this much more before shaking his head. "I'll reach out to him soon."

Sinister has posed:
There's a smile, slightly silly looking, then she's resting her butt on the edge of one of the breakfast stools, looking pleased but also strangely tired. That isn't a common look. "I asked her to frost it all over -- I've seen those things before, somewhere. Probably when I was skimming data. But the quality of flavour makes me think she'd be good at catering an event or two. Pride perhaps..." she slips her phone over with a float and takes the business card out of the sleeve to set it beside the box.

"She just needs a bit of advance notice..." another pause, a thought and she lets her eyes close for a few moments, as she had been doing when Luci came in. "I think he is a relation still. Maybe not directly, but there's not that many of the Host. A cousin instead of a nephew, or... I don't even know. I'd have to look closer to see if there's any distinctive markers, but... I just had to share things."

Another pause as the eyes sloe open, half-mast. "Are you genuinely a bit afraid of me?" It's an odd thing to follow up on, but the chit chat before the drag walk...

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer gives a little smirk and a nod of his head. "If these are the kind of flavors she can bring out daily, I would imagine catering an event wouldn't be trouble at all..." He saus this much, but then tilts his head just a bit. "You look tired...is everything alright?" Asking, even as he takes the final bite of the first cupcake, looking at the box as if deciding if he wants a second one or not just yet.

There's a pursing of lips and he nods his head. "I get that... but I think we should stop while we're a bit ahead. He's family. End of. I don't care how he's related...that doesn't make anything different." Though he does give a soft smile. "I know you did, and while it hurt to learn the truth, I appreciate that you brought it to light. Truly I do."

That last question has him giving a blink and then he chuckles. "Yes. I am genuinely a bit afraid of you. It is a fear of the unknown...and I don't think it's a bad thing. You're unpredictable. It may be scary, but I love it."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister laughs at that, shaking her head gently. "I usually find myself thinking similar things of you, you know. It's deliciously magnetic, if ever so slightly like playing with fire. You're /definitely/ my favourite addiction though," an airkiss is blow, sans hand to launch it, a consideration given to the 'quit whilst you're ahead' and she gives a soft nod.

"Honestly, I'm feeling out of sorts. I had a coffee at the place, because I actually felt sleepy, which isn't common for me. It didn't work like it was supposed to and so I capitulated to contemplating eyelids." She nods over to the couch, then looks back. "Lethargic. I've done a system analysis and I genuinely don't know why. Overload, I think." Or something else, but well... that doesn't bear thinking on.

Lucifer has posed:
"Maybe you should continue contemplating eyelids. Or take a long soak in the hot tub. Unwind a bit..." Lucifer suggests as he picks a cupcake from the back, which renders the top of the pentagram gone then. "Well. I bring out the fear in a lot of people, but knowing that you are drawn to it like playing with fire...that's an interesting take..." He grins, peeling off one side of the treat to simply bite into - getting frosting on his nose and corners of his lips.

"Oooh....coffee..." In the cake. "You've been doing a lot. We all have. Plus getting rugs pulled out from under us, some things pretty much smashing into a brick wall as people have slipped off the radar. It's a lot. And you, my dearest love, do not have the social battery that I do...so you may need some extra time to recharge."

Sinister has posed:
Maybe it just brings out the mother in her, but the frosting draws that half-lidded gaze -- fixating on it for a few seconds before she reaches out her pinky finger to clean up the little bits, sucking on the digit in a manner that she probably shouldn't, with cheeks hollowed inward and her gaze steady on him. Sin considers the devil with that sloe-eyed regard and a little slurp as she removes the digit. Finally.

"I do need to recharge, but I've been doing that, on and off. All those things, I tried doing today, including the retail therapy." She admits that, shrugs a shoulder up and tilts her head in watching, raven hair a cascade over the round of her deltoid, dead straight at the moment. "And yes. Playing with fire. You /do/ have a temper, but I'm not afraid of that. I think part of that addiction is the perpetual worry that somehow the fire might go out if I get too logical." She winks at that, laughs softly. "Anyway. Aahhhm. Yes. I also have something of a headache. A dull thing, but I'm ignoring it. Pain doesn't bother me."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer sets the cupcake down after a moments contemplation, and she's done cleaning the icing off his face like mommy dearest. No questions further asked, nothing more said, the Devil shifts to lift Nathanielle up threshold and carries her towards the bathroom. The hot tub being in the floor, he uses the toe of his shoe to turn the water on - more hot than cold - and sets the tub to begin filling. "Well when all else fails. You go into this bath, you soak in the hot water and bubbles...and know that I will be back to join you in a moment." He sets her down on her feet then and gives her a Grin(tm). "And if you aren't in the tub by the time I return, those clothes are getting burned off and I will haul you into the tub myself."

Then he leaves the bathroom, turning to head into the bedroom. It is likely quite unclear just WHY he's detoured to the bedroom at this time, but he'll be back. Just as he promised he would.

Sinister has posed:
"Ack!" Not a whole lot of protest though, there's a drape of the arm about Lucifer's neck just for stability as Nathanielle is thresholded into the bathroom. The water is gazed at as the toe does the filling, looking from it to him as she's set down, nodding lightly. She drifts to the vanity though as it's being filled, to pull a couple of black chopsticks and an oval 'leather' barrett from her own wrist and forearm, her hair is whisked up and carefully secured high on her head, leaving her neck to swan gracefully.

By the time he actually does return, she's in the water, facing the edge, floating somewhat with her cheek and chin on folded forearms.

Her back, just below her shoulders, is bruised. There's a few spider nevae veins that look a bit angry, where wings would be and the pristine pale skin is marred by elements of green, yellow, black and blue.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer returns with his hands full of a few things. Scents he's been keeping in the bedroom that he believes fit better with Nathenielle than Nathaniel. Nathaniel can have his femme charm - but he is mostly all man. Stopping just short upon entry as he sees the way her back looks and winces. "Course. You might also still be recovering from what Nathaniel did. Ripping off wings is no easy task. It's painful - physically and emotionally - and can come with a while sense of...roller coaster remorse and acceptance at the same time." Offering this as he moves to set some things on the sink and then turns to look at her once more.

"It looks angry and painful...did you use the feather I gave you?" Asking this gently before turning and looking in the medicine cabinet above the sink to see if they have anything that could be used as a balm or salve for something like this. It's unlikely. The Devil can rarely be hurt and Sinister heals fast. Usually.

Sinister has posed:
"It might have been considerably more than I was expecting at the time, but I think there was a solid rationale. I'd love to know what it was about now," Sinister replies, cracking her eye open to look at him over her forearm, glancing over her shoulder with it, as if she can see the damage. She can't, but she can probably tell it's there.

"I did use the feather. This... doesn't seem to be actually an injury, I have no idea what it is, but..." she sighs, closes her eyes again and lets her butt sink lower into the water.

"Buyer's remorse? Maybe that's what this is... manifesting on me, thanks to my own stupid psyche." And self-actuation that perhaps she got a little of by proxy.

"The sleepiness is probably mild depression."

Lucifer has posed:
"Something, something....tired of being used as a tool..." Lucifer offers with a shrug of his shoulders. "And admittedly what felt like - at the time - a slight fuck you to the entirety of the choir. Which, regardless of my position, includes me. And also, things that came from my DNA...so maybe a part of you feels somewhat guilty for making me feel a certain way." Which, is the truth, and likely one that he's somewhat hidden from her. He didn't mean to, well...he did. He didn't want to add insult to injury.

Quite literally.

"So you'll soak in the bath. I can add some epsom salt and a bit of fragrance to help you ease the ache and the mind. Afterwards, a bit more tender care by way of contemplating eyelids together in bed." Is what he offers then. Toeing off his shoes and pulling off his socks to then sit on the edge of the tub and put his feet in - pants and all. No mutual nudity in this scene. Nope.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister goes exceptionally still and even more exceptionally silent, where she's hanging prone on the edge of the tub. The very edge of her eye is visible, gazing over the top of her bicep toward the devil, but words? Nothing.

At length, after feet have entered the water and pants are getting soaked. "Something like that," a murmur of sound, absentee in the tone of it, like the well of forethought is currently being tested for bottomlessness.

Her back though, looks more livid, the veins... /almost/ look as if they're crawling like worms beneath her skin, inching, pulsing redder, then purple, some darkening like old, dried, necrotic blood, to a blackened state. Her vertebrae stand out against the transluscency of skin there, bold and protruberant -- almost like she's becoming immaciated before his eyes.

"Is... well, thank you for being honest about that, Lucifer. I appreciate the clinical light." Said as she sinks further beneath the water. The decay on her back... spreads.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer listens, even if there are very few words being offered by Sinister in the moment. It's what he's witnessing on her back that causes him to begin to worry. "Honesty is a fault I have I suppose." He offers this, to at least respond to what she said, but being as he's still got his pants on that means he still has his phone in his pocket. Taking it out, he sets it to record and videos what is happening to her backside.

"Something's wrong. I'm no doctor...so I'm going to need you to look at this and diagnose yourself. I've never seen anything like it. Like your body is protesting in real time...." This much said as he stops the recording and then sets to play it back, moving the phone so she can see. "Something tells me it isn't supposed to be spreading like that. But you are a different breed of metahuman so maybe this is normal for you? What do you think?" The worry settles in his voice, and damn to the depths of Hell him taking /this/ time to be honest about things.

Sinister has posed:
Meanwhile as the reply is being made with that edge of concern inching into the undercurrent, Sin's eyes shut firmly, but not quite screwed tight -- there's pressure, but only mild force; excluding the light. Or maybe the Light? It's a possibility. They do open though, relaxing in a slow way to the tune of a deep breath in and out, gazing at the phone screen and the video so shown.

"Well," she clucks her tongue. "I appear to be suffering from rapid onset deep tissue necrosis and septicemia. It might be adviseable to give me a dose of vankomycin antibiotic yesterday. Unfortunately, we're not particularly savvy with timetravel." She sighs, rolls her shoulders and hauls her upper body out of the water, kneeling on the ledge below with both her hands remaining on the edge of the tub, staring at the video. Then, she stares up at Lucifer.

"It's probably nothing, I'm sure," a lot more deadpan and less facetious. "I haven't thrown up, passed out, started to haemorrhage or go into a pyretic seisure, so... this might be another of those injuries that go along with the insult."

Lucifer has posed:
"How can you go from saying it's some sort of thing that needs medication yesterday to then saying it's nothing..." Lucifer says this more than asks it. The way she's talking, that deadpan tone in her voice. A sort of nonchalant reaction to everything that's going on. Like all emotion is gone right out with the necosis tissue.

"What the hell is going on Sinister? One moment we were being fine and happy in the kitchen and now you're acting like you don't give two fucks about anything. This doesn't bother you? Does anything actually bother you right now? Or are you truly becoming so dead that even your emotions need resucitating?"

There's a shift then, as he pulls his legs out of the tub and then moves to standing. "You've gotta give me something otherwise I don't know how to help you. Unless that's just it. You don't want me helping you, and you barely seem to want to help yourself. Is that it? Cause let me tell you, right now, I can walk out of this apartment and not give two shakes of a rats ass about anything because there's no point in me giving a shit if you've given up..." Then, as if to prove his point, the Devil turns and marches right out of the bathroom and further, straight out to the balcony contemplating just flying off for the night - the consequences be damned.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's fingertips blacken and she flutters her lashes a few times, as if attempting to hold back tears. When they come, they're the same sick-looking black and ooze down her cheek like tar. Irritated, she swipes the back of her hand across them, blinking hard as it seems as if they sting -- it smears the oily viscosity over her nose, gives her a very unhealthy smokey eye with it.

But Lucifer's already stalking out onto the balcony, so misses the choking sound in the bathroom and the breaking of the mirror.

He can probably HEAR that just fine though. Nothing wrong with his ears, right?

There are flies in the penthouse -- the pestilent kind that insist on haunting the dead, congregating around eyes that no longer see, around lips and sores and wounds, feasting. They zip around, doing the squaredance around the invisible light sources, tangential and erratic.

Lucifer has posed:
Well. That's different. The sound of the breaking mirror gains Lucifer's attention in so much as he does turn around to look back inside the Penthouse. Flies. Hundreds of them. All zipping around and he's very aware that these are not the typical housefly variety either. Pestulance and feeders of the dead.

Lucifer rushes back inside, swatting at the bugs trying to zip around and find some source of where they could feed. "Sinister?!"

The fear is thick enough to be tangible as he makes his way back to the bathroom. Likely where the mirror is broken and he missed the choking sound. Unsure of what he's about to find, and sick with thinking what he did may have been the catalyst to cause everything.

Sinister has posed:
There she is, clutching onto the sink with the shards of the mirror littering every surface; floor, basin, soap tray, ledge with all the shampoos and perfumes and obligatory bowl of unexpected pot pourri.

Her back is to the door, rather obviously, given the lay out of the bathroom. Discoloured skin, blackened and angry looking veins and ...

Well, if one were to go to the back of the british museum, hunt through the relics for the worst preserved piece of taxidermy in the draw marked 'Land that time forgot' what happens to be hanging limp from her shoulders would just about qualify as the partially skeletal remains of a pterodactyl or perhaps a man-sized flying fox. There's a scaley, prurilent quality to them though, that lends itself more to foul dinosaur than chiropteran nightcrawler. The membranes are full of holes, tattered.

Her vertebrae are standing out like spines, protruding from her back in places, having busted through the skin, bone white and oozing.

The flies are ... orbiting her. Emmitting from her in various spots.

"I think, overall..." comes a thick sort of tone, her head hanging down so her hair covers her shoulders and face at the sink "...I should probably prescribe myself from Xanax, except it wouldn't do the blindest bit of good. This is the price is it? Well, so be it. I can damn well bind this, too."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer watches for a moment, listening to the last bit she says, and then he looks himself over.

He has one more ace up his sleeve, he's just been hesitant to use it because of how Sinister had been feeling due to being 'used' in such a way just because of the wings they had. Wings now gone. A choice that's literally beginning to tear her apart. The flies are annoying, the sight of her is saddening, what more could he do?

Then it's a flash of light. The Lightbringer doing as he does best. Filling the Penthouse with a burst of brilliance so bright there shouldn't be a fly that doesn't just burst into nothingness because of it. The remanants of shattered glass in the mirror reveal the vision of Lucifer - the angel. Bright blonde hair, those gorgeous eyes, and those wings. All of them. He steps forward and wraps arms and wings around her, holding tightly despite everything. "You're holding it all in...so it's tearing you apart from the inside out. This is not a time for binding anything. It's time for you to let go...and I'm right here...to catch you as you fall. To soothe you as you heal. Just let it out, my love, please....there's no need to torture yourself any longer."

Sinister has posed:
The light of Samael the Lightbringer, star of Morning. Englightenment itself? Well, when he's not having a moment of goofiness, or indulgence in the sins and vicissitudes of the flesh and the darker dealings of the human and not-quite-so-human soul, anyway. Maybe he's not so different from the other 'gods' that walked the earth in times gone by; examples to aspire to but also cautionary tales of do as I say, not as I do, or at least learn from when I pull a Coyote, or a Raven, or a Zeus, Loki, Anansi... take your pick -- wisdom tends to be a rare option in deities, which is ironic really.

The flies evaporate like so much volcanic cinder, nothing more than a faint layer of dust under the light.

Sin stiffens in the embrace, then goes practically boneless, turning rather suddenly and sharply into the arms of the guardian angel nobody really expects.

Frankly, there's far too many stories about that sort of thing and the devil in their details.

"Sam..." doesn't even manage the whole name. He's just Sam right now and the bottom set of the Seraphim's wings are being clutched.

Lucifer has posed:
"Hold on love. I have you. I am not letting you go. I'm sorry for my truths, but you needed to know them. But also understand that I realize such wasn't your intention. You did this for yourself, for how you felt. I get that..." Samael holds, clutches even, not wanting to lose her now that he has her in his arms. He wills his feathers to glow, all of them, and surround her with his light, a gentle and warming glow meant to soothe. There isn't much more he can say or do in the moment. Just reminaing there as he promised he would always be.

Sinister has posed:
"No!"

The exclamation, the denial is vehement and in direct opposition to Lucifer's words.

"That's the stupid thing! You seem to think that I did it for myself, but I didn't. I did it for -you-. For -Nick-. I ... bloodywell had an altruistic moment, so that I... so that they couldn't ever /use/ me as a vehicle to manipulate..."

Them? Her? Him? Everything? "Sinister had an Archangel in his head, poking buttons and pointing eyeballs at things, culminating in 'perhaps you ought to check this sample /carefully/ because you might just be right about your hunch. And then... when he... when /I/ wanted to hold back? I got struck by a cosmic ... lance in the temple, for want of another word. I was /used/ as a mouthpiece. /I/ became the messenger. I became the angel... with none of the back-up and all of the ..."

Guilt?

She sighs, then hiccups a breath. "And even though most of what I had, you gave me... I couldn't dis-integrate the bit of the others, without..."

Cutting them off. Cutting them out and locking their roots down. And leaving herself vulnerable and letting out the inner demon. The monster.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer continues holding her, enabling her to let it all out. "I wish you had spoken to me about it before you ripped them out is all. It's not a pretty thing to do...we could have found a way to eject them..." He sighs. "That's in the past though. It's done. All of it. We need to focus on the now, on getting you better. I just don't know how to do that. I don't know how to help you. And the more things I try the more I feel like you're slipping away and I can't..."

There's a pause in his words then as he looks up to the ceiling before back down again. "Am I being too selfish? I cannot lose you... they'll never use you as a mouthpiece again, we'll make sure of that. You have me...Nathanielle...you've always had me..." He rests his forehead on the top of hers.

Sinister has posed:
Devil: Angry venting and destruction, burning and torturing the truly deserving in Hell. After having run away so he didn't hurt anyone breakable and squishy.
Sinister: Maybe a little wrong-headed about it, attempts to cauterize the infection and lance it. Amputate, because debriding and the ilk risks further contamination and injustice.
Nick: Volunteers with the homeless shelters.

Coping mechanisms are odd things. Perception, too. The extrovert, the introvert and the doctor trying to do as doctors do; treat the untreatable. Stupid situations all around and someone /somewhere/ needs a good seeing to, over this.

"You're not going to lose me. Even... even now, I'm still here. I can't die like this. I can just... /rot/." Mumblemuffle, MRRRRRRRRRRRRRRr. "I love you, Star of Morning. You'd find me even if I fell into the abyss or got lost in the damn mists of purgatory. Or I just stopped. You'd find me anyway."

Lucifer has posed:
"I would. Cause there is not a place you can go that I will not tear asunder trying to find you... but I do not like this whole idea of you rotting away. Can my feather not heal all of this?" Lucifer asks, even as he holds her while she holds onto him in any way she can. He'll hold her until she rots and then renews like a phoenix rising. Only likely a little less dramatic. Ravens can arise from the ooze, can they not?

"I am at a loss on what to do here. In a strange stage of wanting to help but not thinking I can so I am doing all that I can." Offering this much as if that asks the question that he should just... SAY. Verbatim. "How can I help? What can I do?"

Sinister has posed:
"I... I don't know. I've never felt so ..." vile? Filthy? Like a cancer on society? "...rotten." Well, it's honest.

Nathanielle slides her hands further into the white of feathers, finds the root and the bones, the flesh beneath the fluffy white and slides fingers in there. She should leave filth behind, but she doesn't.

Silence permeates a while, before in a softer tone. "I mean... I'm just there, when you calm down and stop being fire, brimstone, horns and dragonwings. It..." she thinks, silences again. "It kind of got out of hand here. Part of my mind is laughing maniacally at me right now -- and scolding. And monologuing about divine rights and inevitability that I'd upset and insult, considering what I have done. I rather want to tell myself to go stuff it where the sun doesn't shine."

Lucifer has posed:
"Your self worth is getting to you. I understand. I've cut the wings off for feeling like nothing more than a monster. Like nothing. My wings will even transform into something else when I feel the self-loathing of rot." Lucifer is trying to relate...but he feels like he's coming off as selfish again. "When I calm down and stop being the monster within, I can become myself again. Believe it or not, that can take time. And often the mask refits itself before I am actually feeling...like my usual me again. This is the first time I think you've felt this way since obtaining the wings. The divine connection. It's all fun and games until you know that you can be a tool for them to use. The trick is to not let them use you as a tool..."

He feels the way she grabs him, there's a soft grunt but nothing more. "Your mind is a wonderful and also terrifying place. I've been there. I know." He tries to joke just a little. "But here you are. Still alive. Still with me. Still trying to figure out who and what you are from all the things you have given yourself. But I do not see a monster. I see a brilliant doctor with a sound mind. Pieced together by events of life that you twisted and pulled to form your own path. I see beauty in all of you. The good and the evil. Maybe you did insult me...but that was me being selfish. That was me not understanding the whole truth of the why. You were trying to protect us and yourself. Just...maybe next time we do something a little more cathartic that doesn't involve self mutilation." He pauses. "And maybe...just maybe...you accept what you have become. Know that we can silence those who try to use you as their vessel. It's hard but not impossible. We just need you to come back, Sinister. You need you to come back...to realize that all of this is who you are...what you wanted to become...and you should embrace it. All of it. And work together to rid the hurdles of such a new truth."

Sinister has posed:
Seraphim. Six winged celestial -- plus an astral being that can quite easily send a low grade psychic mad and burn their eyes out if they dare to look upon the face of it all. It's worth remembering that, along with the gods among men and the actual Gods and their ilk; particularly when they grunt at wing contact and talk it all out like that. There's only seven, old as the cosmos, the very definition of a critically endangered species, by simple numerical count and....

...it just sort of makes this moment all the more bitter sweet, for its rather humbling humanity.

It certainly silences Sinister again, though she remains inching the physical space between herself and the archangel just a little closer. What's the good of being beneath these wings if you let there be all kinds of distance? Plus, it's a lot to think about. "Sage advice. We should probably actually heed it. Both of us. Also... what /am/ I now? I don't pretend to guess at what you could qualify me as. I think hybrid is probably more accurate than chimera." At least all the flies are gone.

Dramatic license also likes poetry, which inevitably renders the ooze and the rot, decay and pestilence into evaporating mists and slough that falls off and dissipates in fleetingly sparkling motes. "I really do love you. I always have done, I think. And I always will." The physical was the end of the road to the ideal and the devil in the details, in the questioning and the daring to break all the rules.

Lucifer has posed:
"Do you really need a label? You are Doctor Nathanielle Essex. Misses Sinister. You are your own kind, as there is no one like you and likely will never be another you until you are no longer." Try saying that five times fast. Lucifer watches the sparkling motes fly into the air, taking with it all the things that were rendering Sinister into the monster she felt like she was. He smiles. "I mean, people label me all the time, but at the end of the day I am Lucifer Samael Morningstar. A devil and creature of semi-habit."

There is a moment taken to try and get her into standing up straight. The pieces of glass that lay all around the floor and sink raise to levitate into the air and affix themselves back against the mirror proper. He'll fix that a bit later - or just buy a new one - but at least no one will step on glass fragments big or small. "I really do love you, too. From the moment I laid eyes upon you. From the walk down the boardwalk where we got shaved ice and a snowglobe. All the moments since then. From the happy times to the bad times and all between. You are mine and I am yours and no force can break that apart." He shifts to try and lean back just a bit. Just enough so he can lean in and press his lips against hers in a tender kiss.

"How are you feeling now?"

Sinister has posed:
The fragmented mirror puzzle piece solution might strike some as just a little bit freaky, but it does the job, doesn't it?

"You do have a slight issue with being infamous. Lots of things writ about the likes of you, sweetie, always a grain of truth in all the myth and folklore. Famous too, I suppose. But..." she sniffs, looks up at him when he leans back enough to do so and voila -- a kiss on account, with no nasty attached, only plum lipstick that doesn't come off. "...you're my pookie."

It cometh full circle!

There's a giggle. "You did rather lose your capacity to use verbal language when you saw this shape of me for the first time. I think your brain short-circuited... but I put that down to assets aplenty and a good helping hand of lusty devil." There's warmth in her tone, if a bit weary. This has been a tad exhausting.

"You know something? How I'm feeling... I'm feeling like we need to learn how to argue like normal people. We barely do. Too old for that nonsense, except for when we clash by being entirely likely to have a critical meltdown, blow up an entire sphere of existence... more sweating of the small stuff, I think. Or more whifflebat swordfights. Luci? I'm tired. I'd really love to just... be. With you. I'm sorry for... what was done." Another kiss, this time given, not received.

"Rest. In the arms of my angel."

Lucifer has posed:
"Well. One cannot help it when they have such an adoring fan base..." Lucifer speaks this in jest but then the kiss is received and returned. "And you are my darling."

And all is right with the world again.

"There is nothing normal betwixt us, surely you've come to realize that by now. But yes. More spats about the decor of the apartment or how taupe is not beige. Whiffle bat fights and chasing tail around the apartment just for a spin and a kiss. That should all be fine. It's okay to be tired, my love, this has been a moment - for both of us - but I think more for you. Your apology is accepted, and I apologize for any part I had in the crisis."

This said, and he attempts as he did before. To pick her up threshold and wrapped still in both arms and wings. He carries her to the bedroom, leaving the bathroom to be cleaned and settled another day. Tonight, it is rest and contemplating eyelids. In the arms of each other.