13838/Even Devils go Mad

Even Devils go Mad
Date of Scene:	26 September 2021
Location:	Lucifer's Penthouse, Melville
Synopsis:	Lucifer's mind breaks from the inside out. He's saved by Nathaniel Essex. All on an isolated island.
Cast of Characters:	Lucifer, Sinister

---

Lucifer has posed:
There's a certain je ne sais quoi when it comes down to the inner workings of Lucifer's mind. The creature has been alive since the beginning of time, or somewhere close to that. He's done things, seen things, allowed things - all sorts - to happen either by his own hand or without stepping in to stop them from being done. He played his role, he's gone by the book and off the rails whenever it seemed appropriate. Millenia later, there's something that begins to crack. Especially when you take the Devil out of Hell. He went through a period of becoming mortal, he went through a period of showing he still has ALL THE POWER when it comes to demons and their decisions to do the Very Stupid(tm) and try to raid the Earth.

And yet through ALL of that, ever since coming into a new age of relationships and experiences, the Devil finds that he's got yet another several pages of his book to write. In the midst of it all, there is every sort of clouded doubt that tries to stack against him. He doesn't deserve love, he doesn't deserve a 'normal' life. The ones who love him only do so because of WHAT he is and not WHO he is - even though the two coincide fairly close. Devils and demons aren't meant for a life of happiness and love, being surrounded by death and torment all the time. Unless your name is Lucifer and you've left Hell for the forseeable eternity. Snake, serpent, philistine, liar, derogatory remarks about demons and devils... some say it's all for show, some say it's a mask. Rip off the mask and you'll find the true person beneath. The one who takes and destroys everything he touches, everything he tries to make good fails because he is inherently NOT good.

Samael Lucifer Morningstar is not in the Penthouse. He isn't inside Lux. He's not on the roof, or at Cove Cottage, or another bar. He is nowhere to be found in the immediate vicinity and for those who have pieces which can be used to scry for him will come up empty. Blank. For the moment, the Devil is off the radar.

Which certainly cannot be good.

Sinister has posed:
A flight across the heavens, to see the very dawn as a line upon the horizon -- that was a memory. But then the next day? When dawn breaks, when the world wakes up and when the mind jolts to an absence... well, it isn't exactly the best sort of day to start out with.

Cue: Montage of a great many empty rooms stared at. Walking place to place. Flying place to place. All with the dispassion that usually shows on a handsome but oft callous face, growing increasingly absent.

How long does he search without taking drastic steps? How long is a piece of string -- it's approximately midday, when the morning was spent trying to be rational and looking in the ordinary ways of looking, that Nathaniel Essex begins to become aggressively concerned. The fact that he cannot -feel- that connection to the lord of hell that he himself established, is a very bad sign to him. The sky ISN'T falling and the gates of hell haven't opened wide for not having a keeper, but that does not seem to truly click when all you're concerned over is the hole in your head, where a presence used to be.

So it is, that when the sun climbs toward noon, a project that Sinister had begun but had yet to complete, is turned to. He's possessed the mind of Charles Xavier in the past. He has felt Cerebro's power, but the making of it had been begun, a kind of hack-job managed beneath the bunker of Alkali Lake on the borders of British Columbia and Alberta. In a millitary facility that was flooded, where a man known as Logan was infused with Adamantium. American military began it, but with considerable funding from Essex Corp; the technology, the research all taken when the facility was destroyed, but the rest remains beneath the floodwaters. And that, in the rusted spherical chamber beneath the dam, is where Sinister is found.

He stares at the chair, the helmet and console that was used to trick a more powerful telepath than he, into some serious malice of forethought. Bent over it, he stares, then places it slow and square on his head. The floodwaters sweep through some of the rooms beyond. He had access. It was HIS operation when the behind the scenes was taken into account, of COURSE he had a back door. Hands grip the railing infront of himself and he allows his mind to be magnified by a factor of X. WHere are you? Where ARE you??

Lucifer has posed:
An empty mind is a terrible thing to have, as it bores a hole and gives a feeling of emptiness. Think about the one of the other side. Closing themselves off and leaving themselves to deal with what their mind is trying to do. Perhaps that was Lucifer's intention...to spare Nathaniel. Further, a part of him likely did not want to hear the thoughts and opinions from a loved one who only has his best interest in mind. When the voices, the doubt, became too much ... he figured sparing Nathaniel was best. Because he didn't want his mind, his issues, to influence Nathaniel in any way.

Yet Nathaniel has gone through a personal hell and back again to find Lucifer that has yet to yield a result. But when he's in that lab, and has that mockup on his head...it takes a moment. A long moment. A very much Where ARE you?? moment when finally.... FINALLY... a small blip appears in the mind. A hand, reaching out in the dark, protesting Lucifer's want to be in a solitary state of confinement. Knowing the Devil isn't okay...something reaches...and wraps around Sinister's mind and gives him a single clue...

Tristan da Cunha

Those who know, know it's one of it not the most remote, uninhabited, and rarely visited island 1,750 miles from South Africa's southern coast. He's there. And something wholly isn't right based on the sort of gurgled attempt at communicating with the mind power that Sinister's taken on.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister's eyes open, the look of strain on his face from using the proto-cerebro is quite obvious, but he stares then into thin air. Bringing a mind's eye map of his locations, his hidey holes. Johannesberg? No, Durban, on the south coast, east of Capetown.

A series of teleportations later, getting above ground, ignoring shocked reactions when he simply walks into sunlight and flies into the evening (they're ahead by six hours)...

Arrival at the island has him being silent. Black leopard shape assumed, tracking by scent what is feebly trying to refuse by mind, along with the little radar blip. He prowls.

Lucifer has posed:
It will not take too terribly long for the prowling leopard to find the man that he has been searching for. It's dark, there's a fire going in a small clearing surrounded by trees and rocks. Lucifer is naked, curled up by the fire, facing it. Something else is wrong though. There's a scent. Like a burning that isn't pleasent and if one takes a closer look there's a scattering of white feathers that lead to the clearing itself. Some pure, but as one approaches, those feathers become more and more bloody. The Devil may be contemplating eyelids. He may be falling apart into himself. Either way...the mind is still mostly closed. Might take a crowbar to open it in all honesty.

Sinister has posed:
The leopard prowls about, sniffing at the feathers, looking with great golden-green eyes toward the fire itself. Fast forward the camera a little bit, where a thorough gathering of all the white is done, followed by all the bloodied, to be dropped into the flames. A little more time, when a pecary squeaks its last and is dragged to the flames. Leopard becomes man, sets a spit to roasting wild pig over those flames. Gathers some rocks to bank the fire properly and feeds it things that do NOT include celestial body parts. And eventually, it is simply a matter of throwing a blanket made of himself over the naked devil, tucking a rolled up sweater, also made of himself under the head for a pillow....

And gazing.

Sinister adopts the lotus position, feet pulled up to rest on his knees, bows his head over and lets his mind reach. It's easier here, in close proximity. But he does not stab through, he probes for the hole and quietly steps into the corridors of the mind. In this, following where the mind has gone, is necessary. It just might not be kinder.

Lucifer has posed:
Believe it or not, there is a beginning. All the way back to Adam and Eve, when the serpent tempted the woman to bite the Forbidden Fruit. A part to play. His part. A thought that he was doing something for himself and for mankind to give God the finger. To stand up for what he thought was right because his father wasn't going to let the humans he had created experience all that they could.

In the end. A part to play. A moment that was written before it even happened - if one believes that God is omnipotent and all knowing. Writing the future to let the present walk right into it. He fell for it. The other side of that is knowing he betrayed his siblings because it was in the plan for him to. He had no choice.

The true rebellion would have been to never tempt Eve in the first. place.

Then forward still, to Cain and Abel. A murder in the making. Also prewritten. Also something bound to happen, that could not be changed or stopped. Then to the temptation of Christ. And all the little things between. All of them. Each even. Something that could NOT be stopped even if he tried.

His throne in hell sat upon, torment divided out to those who entered the domain he wasn't 'damned' to but 'destined' for. To wait for the Judgement and then watch as his halls filled more and more. His brothers and sisters who fell with him hating him for such, for letting them believe in his folly.

More thoughts come. The inner workings of the Devil's mind is always when and not why..and yet he tries to ask the why over and over again. Why here and not there. Why HIM and not another. Samael Lucifer Morningstar. The most beautiful of them all, now the most hated.

The memories turn into eons, centuries, moments where there is nothing and then another explosion of sorts fill his coffers again and again. As much as he loves it, he hates it. As much as this is his place, it is also his prison. Time becomes meaningless in hell. The faces change, but the destiny is the same. The final outcome just a regurgitation to the new centuries and sins that people can come up with.

Sins which are at the fault of his doing.

Finally, he broke free, but at what cost? Mortality for a bit. Losing those he began to care about. Saving those who he didn't wish for their story to end. Then his own. He comes into himself, a life of Luxury and Penthouse, of debauchary. Then it happens. Vlad. Nathaniel. Two pieces of the puzzle he didn't expect. Feelings emerge, feelings he tried to fight. That he finally accepted. Though once accepted, as more things happened, more trials were faced and ultimately not to be....and the doubt settles in. It's all because of HIM. Of who and what he is. The love he feels, he wonders if it's real at all. Or fake. Just words, even though he believes them to his core...do they really matter?

Ultimately, a fear. Something will happen. A rug pulled out from under them and in the center, the very core of this journey....is a lonely Devil, with no one and nothing to surround him but black. A big empty. Making everything for naught, and finding him alone and unworthy. This is the fear, and it's manifesting bigger and brighter the more Lucifer feels he's fighting against it. A moment. Lucifer staring at the core, wingless and personally dejected. A thought to give in and accept where he feels he will ultimately be. Releasing those from his grip so they don't suffer along with him. Vlad. Nathaniel. A pang of guilt, a rush of sorrow, as he reaches for the ultimatum with himself to end all things of his life - and perhaps his own life upon earth itself.

Sinister has posed:
This is a lot to work through and whereas Lucifer's mind might be scattered and hurting right now, disassociated and floundering in pain, Sinister's mind is very much not. He's found focus again, in gaining perspectives and though the beginning of this day was laced with anxiety, now that he's found what was lost, it has its measure of control once again. Obsessive compulsion can sometimes have a few benefits, you know.

Each vignette of memory arranged in a circle, viewed through a mirror of its own construction. The circular room looks considerably like the dome of St Paul's cathedral; the whispering gallery, where you can sit directly opposite an individual and whisper to them and be heard clear across the room. Whether physics will apply to this, is not known as the psychic and the physic are not necessarily applicable to one another in and of themselves. He walks the circle, pulling the mind he's in together again, bit by bit, tying it all ot the room. Creating a stage.

Some of these mirrors have mirrors within them, because the memories inherantly in them are tied TO each other. "Those will be harder to face, no doubt... hmm..."

He glances up at the dome, knowing fragments hover above this also, but pays it little mind. If a fragment falls through it will do so. This memory, that thought, those feelings, this accusation, that pain, all neatly organized now.

Eventually the kernel of the suicidal is brought into the middle of all this, gently tugged by purposeful and determined coersion. Nononono... not that way. THis way. Come on, it's just around the corner. Run, but run that way. Slide. Slip. Come, come, come, come....

And he waits for Lucifer's mind to arrive in the room of his creation, /within/ the mind he tries to lure. He simply looks as he did when a mortal man in here, in very dapper victorian attire. Blue shirt and dove grey frock coat, top hat, black doctor's gloves. Cane.

Lucifer has posed:
The memories float, circle and gather in a way that obeys the one which compels them do to so. Piecing themselves together in that way which fits and flows in a time line that makes sense. The emotions behind the memories come as well, one into the other, this which beget that. Some do float above, refusing because they are likely brought from distraught, and dismay. They don't fit so they don't come down to force themselves, which might help in the long run as well.

Into the core they come, where Lucifer stands ready, almost, just there. Then there's pause, hesitation. That bit of his mind which was able to break free returns and manages a stop. Gives just enough hope that maybe...just maybe...

Yet Lucifer only drops his hand, staring at the core. Feeling Nathaniel's presence but not recognizing it with a look. It is enough to know, enough to perhaps begin to fight against where he felt he needed to be. Eyes close as his hand drops to his side and he takes a breath that isn't necessary. Still, all of him aside from that tiny bit, is convinced of one thing. He doesn't turn, doesn't open his eyes, and that hope prays that the words Lucifer is about to speak do not deter Nathaniel from what it's tried to do in helping it's owner.

"...You shouldn't be here..." The voice echoes within the room, or perhaps it echoes from the Devil itself and then trails out to the edges of the Empty. Who knows. "...You shouldn't see this..."

Sinister has posed:
"Possibly not. But I am. I have a pernicious knack for being where I shouldn't be and doing what I shouldn't do. People have told me off about it repeatedly," Nathaniel replies, watching the persona in the center of all these vignettes, glancing up at the dome fleetingly. He smiles though, then begins to stroll as if he were walking through cultured botanical gardens, gazing at the memories one by one. Perhaps he might even offer thoughts on the 'art' on display, the way the artist (Lucifer) has coloured the experiences so expertly, or the use of savage brushstrokes, of delicate but very obviously melancholy tones. But there's none of that, only suggestions of such a thing by the tilt of head, the fixation on this or that.

"You don't lie to anyone else, so why do you lie to yourself so very thoroughly, I wonder? Quite clearly, every day you exist, is the biggest lie you ever told the world. You are not indomitable, implacable, irresistable and irreverant, are you? Your mask is a travesty."

Well, that's rather brutal. But maybe there's a point to it.

Lucifer has posed:
"It's not a lie..." Lucifer offers, eyes finally opening and he even turns to look at Sinister, then over to the tapestries of memories which Sinister brought together. "You see it for yourself. In all of these things you have found. I am not a liar. I am simply owning my truth." He offers here, finally stepping back from that core which almost pulses with a life of it's own. A beckoning.

"How did you find me?"

Sinister has posed:
Nathaniel tilts his head. The look he wears isn't judgemental, but it does hint at inquiries, questions unspoken. The look is fleeting though, as he looks back at the memories, moves to the next one, staring at it to its fullness. The way he's set out the Hall of Memory, means each one can be examined individually, not assaulting all at once, of course. But you can't take each one as separate from all the others, the organic whole forms the bigger picture.

"Oh, that's relatively easy. I looked. That's how I usually find things, is by looking for them." Facetious much? No, actually he sounds quite genuine. "I had a lot of rocks to look under, places to check, but systematic elimination and culmination brought me to the solution. And then I looked. And I found you. Well, the physical you. I haven't found -you- yet." He looks over his shoulder at Lucifer in the mind, offers a mild smile and walks to the next image.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer puts on a face, a smirk with a touch of snark to it. "You think you're so clever don't you? This IS me. All of me. Stripped down to the core." He offers and then paces back to that pulsating center again. "Why do you think I am not the same as the physical you're standing next to?" A little scoff is given. A part of whatever this Lucifer is, is angry, because it was interrupted.

Outside the mind, the physical Lucifer curls up a bit, giving a whimper. Holding tightly into himself as he lays by the fire.

Sinister has posed:
"No, I don't think I'm so clever. I know I am. But this isn't about me, dearest." Sinister replies, pausing at the last image and then turning to look at Lucifer. "I still haven't found -you- yet. Because you're not here. Not yet. That won't happen for a while, I suspect... so if you've things to say, get them out now, let them settle where they're meant to go." He gestures with the cane around the circle, which broadens a bit to allow potential other feelings and memories to manifest -- though none do yet, unless they're focused upon by the mind that contains them.

Nathaniel rests both hands atop the cane, turns about to squarely face Lucifer-the-Angry. He leans forward a little, over the cane "...Why are you angry? Can you tell me?"

Lucifer has posed:
"These were not meant for you to see!" Lucifer crows, and then attempts to push all of those memories back into a compact piece of himself. "What am I to say? My whole existence has been a lie. I only tell myself things to make myself feel better about me. I betrayed myself from day one...when I could have rebelled in a better way. Instead, I let myself and my brethren fall... and ever since then it's simply been a hamster wheel...with God at the whip's handle...commanding me to do these things." He pauses. "I am not meant for anything but what I was tossed out of Heaven to do. Happiness does not belong to me. And to keep this up... is to hurt many people in the end." He turns back to the core, reaching for it once more. "Might as well rip it all away now... you'll heal, dear Nathaniel, in time."

That last question causes him, once more, to pause. "I am not angry. I am exhausted."

Sinister has posed:
"I've seen them all before, so saying I wasn't meant to see them is a little bit like shutting the stable door when the horse has already bolted for the hills. The novelty in this, is the association of them all with more specificity in emotion and..." there's the sound of a smack. "...Ow. Ok...." Sinister rubs at his cheek, looking mildly consternated, particularly when his left hand rises up to strike him again and is glared at. "Ok, ok. Ok!" The hand lowers and he adjusts his tie, moves forward to stand opposite the Lucifer-in-mind with the core between them, looking through/passed it, to look at the Archangel.

"Do you just want to be done? Finished?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer looks past the core then, seeing Nathaniel on the other side. There's *something* in those blue eyes of his. A silent call for help, that hand of hope that reached out to Nathaniel to help get him here, shining where and how it can to try and get someone to knock some sense into the lamenting angry sulky little archangel. "...I don't want to be the source of anyone's pain anymore...I don't want to keep living my own lie...I need to free everyone from me. I'm just a curse...that's all I've ever been. All I ever will be. Trickling down from one memory to the next that's all it's been. Serpent. Betrayer. Philistine. ...." A chuckle then, but it's something dark and not truly Lucifer. "Don't you want freedom, Nathaniel Essex?"

Sinister has posed:
Sinister presses his lips together, glances up and to the left. "HMmmmmmmmmmmmm..... nope." Is decided after suitable consideration of it, he looks across the way at the angry Lucifer. The Archangel that isn't his -- Suddenly, he bonks the staff down like Gandalf and the jewel in the hilt shines brilliant ruby. A shield hops from it, arching over the core and remains planted as he walks around the shield to face Lucifer on his side of the innermost being. "The thread in all this..." he gestures to the windows.

HATEHATEHATEHATE - SELFLOATHING
NO CHOICE, predestination, made to be loathed, sick to death of myself.
Put on the charm on the outside, die on the inside. Day after day after day.
I hate you. I HATE YOU. (Lucifer's own image shouting at himself)
No choice. NO CHOICE. -- That last yelling echo Sinister swipes a hand through and turns it into ch' no' ic' o' e' floating off in all directions. "You don't get to be happy, right? Says who? You. Not him." Pointing up at the whatever above "Which is just a rebellion because you don't ever have any choice, do you? It's always determined for you, you're just following the script. And if the script says you're meant to be happy for once, then damn that man I'll rebel and make myself /unhappy/? You're your own worst enemy. But I'm not helping here. I'm just yelling." Even though he's not and never raised his voice, he shakes his head and gazes at the man infront of him. "Oh! Ah. I have it." Stepping forward, he gets right up close to the shattered star in the heart of Lucifer's mind.

"What does self-actualization mean?"

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer growls a little, because the logic that Nathaniel is using is defeating the logic he's entraped himself with. Little further bits that prove that the 'real' Lucifer, the 'you' Lucifer that Nathaniel is seeking is still...lost? Trapped? Not out in the open yet that's for sure. What worse prison to be in than your own mind?

"That you've...realized the full potential of yourself. Slammed against the ceiling. No more room for growth."

Sinister has posed:
"I thought you were a clever man that had lived a billion and more years, which is plenty of time to have swallowed every dictionary known to man into that mind of yours." Sinister tsks. "Self-actualization. Not Self-actualized. Present tense, versus past tense. Mazlow's heirarchy of needs, the ability /to become/ the best and worst version of yourself, dependent on whether your needs are being met or not. You have the ability /to/ self-actualize. You do understand what that means, don't you? Not just you, all angels. And you are an angel, 'the devil' is a title you and mankind gave to yourself. Nutshell, you make yourself. You. Make. Yourself. Nobody else makes you. And I know that's not something you like to hear, particularly when I'm facing the charlatan that /wants/ you to fail, instead of the you I KNOW is here, somewhere..." Sinister looks around a bit at the various mirrors. "...Any time now." And back to the core.

"Samael, you need to pull it all together..." he calls to the mirrors, keeping eyes on the Lucifer infront of himself. "...I can't do it for you, but I've laid it out to make it easier. You /own/ who you are, so own it. Show it who is the master of you... it, or yourself."

Lucifer has posed:
Have you ever watched a horror movie and in the midst of staring down a being it sort of..flash changes? Like it's fighting with itself? Apparently whatever pseudo-stalling, logic using tactic Nathaniel used to give Lucifer time to fight his inner prison is beginning to pay off. There's a twitch. Another. The mirrors of memories begin to crack, to break apart, as he pulls them all and makes them his own. Maybe that was pre-determined, but there was reason behind the madness. There is reason for Lucifer's existence. He broke the mold when he decided to step out of Hell, to live a life for himself. Which has allowed him to further grow into who he has become. He is NOT alone... otherwise Nathaniel would not be here. The memories continue to shatter and the Lucifer within the mind in front of Nathaniel twitches more. Almost spasms. Until he collapses to the ground, to his knees, and suddenly a peace washes over the area. That core behind the shield? It begins to quickly diminish.

It's a moment, another, before kneeling Lucifer looks up at Nathaniel. Tear streaks cover his face, but the smile that comes after, it is absolutely genuine. "Dear me...that was..intense." A pause, he pushes to stand, reaches a hand out to Nathaniel but it hesitates. "You know I truly do love you, Nathaniel, yes?"

Sinister has posed:
Nathaniel's aware of the collision of mirrors, the fragments that he's captured and organized being smashed and sucked in. The sound of a myriad of shards exploding and whizzing to their heart and soul... but he doesn't watch them. His eyes are firmly on the twitch, the shudder and the terrible actualization of identity from fragments of the whole. Watches as the Lucifer that is not, becomes the Lucifer that is, collapsed on his knees. "/There/ you are..."

Hesitancy there is in Samael, but none in the responding reach. Not a moment's pause - when Lucifer reaches out, his hand is met immediately, drawing him up taller and steadying, supportively. "I think so. Love is a funny emotion isn't it? Complicated and simple at the same time, with a host of things that come along for the ride. You mutilated yourself this time, I'm afraid, it was brutal."

Lucifer has posed:
That wasn't quite the answer he was expecting. Love is... So many things. Lacking that bit of affirmation, Lucifer withdraws just a touch. 'I think so' ... so there is doubt, and that hurts. "...Yes. I can feel it...I don't...I wasn't myself, or... in my right mind..." That core is all but gone now. A little blip that remains, because there is always something there. "We should leave this place..." He offers and then there is a sad smile. "Thank you for finding me."

Sinister has posed:
Oh now, but we're in a mind. Minds lack the ability usually, to hide what they feel, without some serious locked doors. And there's none right here. "The best any of us has, at all, unless we're empaths... is that we think another loves us. I know I love you, Lucifer. I can only think that you love me to. That is not a judgement, it is our best case. I'm pretty damn sure of it though, there's not a lot of room for doubt - certain actions have shown the depth of sentiment more than a few times, both ways... haven't they?" The hand that was taken is drawn to his chest, held over his heartbeat, a nod given over the clasped limbs. "You helped me do that."

Quiet for a moment "Did a part of you really want to cut us all loose and fade?"

Lucifer has posed:
As his hand is drawn forward, to hold over Nathaniel's heartbeat, Lucifer smiles a little and nods. "Yes. That is truth. Sorry, I've been inside my mind a little too long this time. It's... I'm still balancing it all." Though that last question has a pall of shame cover Lucifer's face and his eyes shift so his gaze can find the floor. "...Yes."

Sinister has posed:
In the mind, things can jump. That's what happens here. Sinister WAS just holding a hand over his heart, now he's apparently holding Lucifer completely, instead, cradling him against his chest. A lot of protective instinct keeps kicking in and after a deep pause for thought, where shields have popped up and dissipated in various directions, Nathaniel sighs softly and rests his forehead against Luci's. "Time to wake, I think."

<<Wake, my Lord.>> - A mental jolt, to safely but swiftly shoot minds back to their respective bodies, out of a crafting of the astral plane. The smell of cooked peccary is quite delicious. It's absolutely the dark of night now and the fire is down to warm coals and charcoal pieces. Sinister's hands go to his face, to rub vigorously there.

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer shifts a little. Whimpers. Shifts again. Whimpers more. Then he finally, slowly, sits up from where he's been cradled by Sinister in this lingering moment. Sitting up doesn't mean much but just literally not laying down anymore. He suddenly clings to Nathaniel. Just that. A cling. A holding tight of the form of his lover as his mind finally sets him free. It's refreshing. It's also Nathaniel's doing, because Nathaniel believed enough to actually help Lucifer's mind free himself.

"...Thank you..." He offers, gently. "...Just...thank you."

Sinister has posed:
Relinquishing his face, Nathaniel's hands come down to rest, wrapping blanket about the form that clings to him. It's bravely tucked in, covering all the bits that are raw and exposed, bringing the sweater out of the way, reabsorbed into his body with a melting into flesh. He cradles an arm around, tucking the hand at the outside of the angel's torso and draws him closer. INTO his lap, really. The african night is warm, luckily. The fire isn't really needed, but it's comforting to some. Prometheus. Lucifer Morningstar. Most of mankind. So more twigs and kindling and a log or two are floated over, some from driftwood to add a better smell than charring wings.

"You're very welcome. And don't mention it," a squeeze is offered.

After some more silence and a bit of comfort rubbing of the hand on the side, Sin offers: "If you'd really and truly wanted to go, I don't think I would have had the heart to stop you. I was reasonably sure you were having a crisis though, not... that. But who am I to tell someone that has been around for billions of years, that they can't go if they think it's their time and they're just..." he trails off "...It would've broken my heart."

Lucifer has posed:
"I couldn't... I don't know how I let myself spiral so far inward...and I tried. I really tried to fight it." Lucifer offers this much before he takes a breath and then nuzzles once more. "But I wouldn't...I hope...I would never intentionally make any decision that would actually break your heart. Hurt you so." Still, he was just on that verge, and that pains him.

He finally pulls himself away from Nathaniel to sit beside. He shifts his shoulders, wincing a bit. It's the one thing that could bring him pain, this self inflicted wound of hacking off his wings. "..We might need to find a way to get rid of the stumps so they can grow again..."

Sinister has posed:
Sinister says nothing further about what almost happened not that long ago within the cage of one's own mind. Instead, he rubs a hand on Lucifer's upper arm when he sits beside instead of astride, then with a little frown, reaches to gently ease the blanket off of shoulders, to take a proper look at the damage that the angel did to himself. This time not to escape one of his siblings, at that. Boney protrusions that bled and might still twitch helpless? He's expecting something of that ilk. There's a little sigh, then he twirls a finger and whisks a single primary feather, all intact and only slightly bloodspattered out of the dark of night to his fingers. It's presented to Lucifer with a flick up of one eyebrow. "I thought I might actually think ahead, this time." Pause, beat. "I burned all the rest. It looked like a massacre in the biggest chicken coop in existence when I got here."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer gives a blink, staring at the feather as Nathaniel presents it to him. "You did. Seems I shed a bit more than I had intended...and thus was unable to grab all the feathers like I thought I did." He says this softly, reaching out for the feather itself, letting the powers of the feather work since they know their owner is wounded. A bath of white covers Lucifer for a moment, it's brilliance blinding but also gone in a flash. His wings are not present, but neither are they simply bloody stumps sticking out from his back. Perhaps he does not wish to show them right now, still trying to get on a good feeling about himself. Still needing to process all the emotions swirling in his head in the moment.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister strokes one of the angel's shoulders again, letting the hand fall to his lap after the gesture and the surrender of the feather. He gazes at the fire, the roasted peccary and the coals that flicker, embers that glow. He's extremely quiet though, almost introverted, which is relatively unusual for the geneticist.

Lucifer has posed:
The silence is deafening. Lucifer remembers all of it. Even though he was trapped, and another part of him was speaking, it was still...him... And he can only imagine how much resolve it took Nathaniel to stand there and listen. To put all the pieces together. Even though that part is over, Lucifer feels like there's another stretch beginning that only time will heal.

"...I'm sorry...Nathaniel...I didn't mean to hurt you in any way..."

Sinister has posed:
"Hmm? Oh, no, you didn't. Well, a bit of it stung, but I'm quite tough skinned in most regards. A few chinks in the armour, of course, but..." Sinister smiles and it's genuine, attempting to reassure. He inhales, blows the breath out in a raspberry and looks back at the flame. "This is what happens when your lover is actually a celebrity. A very weird kind of celebrity, but a celebrity nevertheless. The actual person tends to be quite considerably different from their iconographic ideology, but occasionally... like now... I'm quite literally sitting here trying to wrap my head around the entirety of billions of years. A lot of that had to be quite boring and I have no doubt at all, that the most interesting was probably in the last little while when men actually arrived. But that's still a mind bogglingly large amount of time."

Lucifer has posed:
"Yes well..." Lucifer says and then shakes his head. "Maybe you shouldn't try to fathom it all. It's not pretty. We've taken that road a few times. Ourselves, in our minds, in my mind... and..." He takes a breath. "It needs to stop. If I keep looking to the past, then I'll only ruin the future. That's part of what I learned..." He realizes he's naked, but he has clothing nearby, which he brings over. The clothing is covered in blood, and he fishes out that silver case of cigarettes, flipping it over and taking one, offering Nathaniel a smoke as well. "I sunk really far into it...I don't want to go there again. The happiest I've been has been in these most recent times. I mean truly happy. Over the moon." He lights his cigarette then.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister takes a smoke of his own, leaning to the fire to light the end. He settles back. "Now, oddly, I rather like looking at the past, when I can keep it in perspective. I /like/ perspective, if you hadn't guessed already." He chuckles, inhales a lungful of smoke. "I find it helps me fathom out some of the present with a more judicious eye, as they do say those that do not learn from the past, are doomed to repeat it. However..." he waggles cigarette and hand to Lucifer "...I am not going to argue with what you just said. Frankly, for you it's all too real, all to sharp and loaded with emotion that in itself is probably way too raw. For you it seems, it's almost like every slight and insult is fresh, when your mind dwells on it. Hopefully, in the future, the happiness you currently feel will make the past easier to look at."

He laughs softly though. "Some of your past makes me wonder about myth and legend you know. The literal that has been fabulized -- for example Excalibur is almost universally stated to have come from the lake held by the lady of the lake, in guardianship. Wizards and magic and swords out of stone and water. But in the time of Arthurian legend, wisemen and women used to hunt for bog iron which naturally forms an is a hard to smelt ore, making the effort of making a quality sword out of it, very hard. But literally, the bog forms iron ore nuggets which are hunted for by people with long wizardly staves, pulled out of water when they hit the lump, ascertain that it's there and fish it out. And the method of making such blades, was to pour the smelt into stone molds. A sword from a stone. Examine the legend, it seems fabulous. Examine the truth, you can actually understand."

Lucifer has posed:
"Arthur was very much real though. Good man. Round table Knights were a bit.." Lucifer makes a face and then chuckles. "I get your point. I almost see how it applies to me...but..perhaps not as much. I don't know. I think you're right. The further I'm within a life of peace and happiness...something I have made for myself. The easier it will be to look at the past. The past is fresher, too, when it's centuries compared to millenia." As opposed to days versus years. It's like looking at yesterday instead of a year ago. Is what Lucifer means. He inhales a breath of smoke, looks to the fire. "Did you cook a pig?"

Sinister has posed:
"Yes. I caught it as a leopard when I initially found you and set it to roasting before I delved inside," The past is left in the past, just a nod was given for the comparison. "I figured you might need something relatively normal and highly tasty when you came out of it. Oh, and here..." he reaches out places a hand on Lucifer's own and closes his eyes. Skin flows out from his wrist, slithering all along Lucifer's arm, up and over his back, around him, down him, enfolding him completely from neck to feet, then forms in a slightly looser array of trews, shirt and waistcoat over the top. It's africa, it's all loose at the moment. He refrained from sandals though, bare foot it is. He lets his hand drop away. Clean clothes, made out of Sin. "Sorry, I'm just feeling like I need to be useful. Suddenly, I feel exceptionally young. And probably arrogant and cock-sure with it. Well, hell, I am that, but it's not to do with my age."

Lucifer has posed:
"I would make a joke of you being embarassed to look upon my naked self but this IS a very remote island off the coast of South Africa. Who knows what real dangers can be here for a mortal to undertake." Lucifer jokes in regards to the fact that he is now wearing Sin-fashion again, which he quite likes. He reaches, then, to rip into cooked pig, tearing meat straight from the cooked carcass and eats like a caveman. "Cause why the fuck not?" He offers with a cheeky grin. Normal. This may not be entirely such but it's normal enough for THEM and that's what counts. "Have you ever seen the night sky in the southern hemisphere? I want to find the southern cross...." The constellation, of course, as he bites into pig, chewing thoughtfully.

Sinister has posed:
"I was in vietnam. So yes. Sometimes in the jungle, when you're trying to be under the radar, stars are the only guidance." Vietnam? Yes. And during that particular time, too. Sinister scans the sky, the points out the constellation, highlighting it with an aura created of illusion so it's easy to spot. He reaches then across the small of the small pig's back and rips the tenderloin from the carcass, splitting it and proffering half to Lucifer. He pulls strips of the fascia from that long bit of tender and eats it somehow daintily. "And for the record: Clothing maketh the man. Naked people have very little influence on society -- Mark Twain."

Lucifer has posed:
Lucifer follows that motion of up and then smiles as Nathaniel highlights the very constellation Lucifer was just talking about. "Absolutely gorgeous. I do love the stars..." He offers this much, finishing the first bit of pig and then takes the loin offered by Nathaniel. There is no dainty eating from the Lord of Hell. Something about primitive, even though he doesn't need to eat, and he simply devours. "You can very well see I *had* clothing..."

Sinister has posed:
"Yes, but it was filthy dirty. Can't have that." Sinister replies, with a wrinkle of the nose. "One must have standards. I love the stars too..." mouth opens, then shuts again, thinking better on elaborating on that. At least for a moment. "I remember being a scout." Oh, my goodness, he was a boyscout? Oh yes. He was. "On camp in dartmoor. All the other boys were telling spooky stories, some of them reading the latest penny dreadful from Dickens around the camp fire, but I snuck up onto the Tors and watched the sky and told myself stories of how the constellations got there. I suppose I was always an odd child." He sighs a bit "I feel as if I ..." frowns, shakes his head. "Nevermind. I can't articulate, I suppose."

Lucifer has posed:
"Try to articulate it anyway. Cause now you have me intrigued. That's how the constellations got their stories you know. People just connected the dots and then started to say why Orion is chasing Leo. Or some such." Lucifer says this, finishes his porkloin and then manages to somehow clean his hands of any ick. "But you feel as if you..." He begins again and then gestures towards Nathaniel.

Sinister has posed:
Sinister twists his lips to the side, eyeing Lucifer sidelong a moment, lashes very lowered. Then he relaxes with a chuckle and shrugs. "I feel in some ways like I was prescient. Some of that was... laughed at and mocked, but I..." he pauses, reaches out for a moment and touches Lucifer on the temple, popping a memory of his life into Lucifer's mind.

The words can't be heard, but the gestures and the passion on Nathaniel Essex face can be seen, as he gestures to a cadaver that was sewn artfully together, demonstrating a full array of physical mutations, so that it might be demonstrated to a crowd of scholars and doctors at the Royal Academy. Wings are prominent, though close examination of the memory shows that the wings sewn on were those of a cobb swan. He worked with what he could get on hand. Similarly, little moments of the past when lying down and staring at the sky helped him orient himself at other key points in his life; well prepared, or prescient, pre-cognisant, or just extremely good at predictive reasoning. Earlier on, he'd been quite happy to state that he knows he's that clever. But clever people aren't often ahead of their time to that extent - one could put him alongside Tesla, saving that Tesla wasn't quite the monster that Sinister became.

"...I cannot adequately put it into words, but I've spent a good deal of my life waiting for everyone else to catch up. I sometimes wonder about that."

Lucifer has posed:
"You want everyone to catch up... sometimes I want everyone to slow down a little. Humanity has only existed for this small portion of time, and yet in the last few centuries alone has exploded into advances of life that...well... I can fathom them now but it took me a bit to catch up." One doesn't just get handed a cell phone in hell after all. A moment longer pases in silence and then Lucifer seems to consider. "Do we want to stay the night on this little island of our own or... should we go home?" He doesn't mention anything about the memory because he's not sure what to say aside from figuring it was just classical Nathaniel Essex as a child.

Sinister has posed:
Saving that the 'frankenstein' creation was when Essex was probably about twenty five, though the many hours of alonetime watching the heavens was at various points in his life, it's a fair assessment. Just the oddities of this particular man. He has a lot of them. "The industrial revolution must have taken you for a turn and the acceleration of technological development of the last hundred and fifty years. We did seem to outstrip ourselves, didn't we?" Sinister smiles an odd smile, because it isn't pity, but chagrine on his face. Mild irritation follows, then fades. Men are odd beasts and out of this trio of inhuman individuals, Sinister is definitely the youngest. Precocious whippersnapper. He scratches his wrist a couple of times, shuffles on his spot on the sand until he gets the uncomfortables out of his system. Someone is a little antsy about... things.

"We could stay here. The night is almost done and it's isolated. There isn't even any common shipping lines around here. I might hop to Madagascar after this, or Genosha. Neither are very far." He looks at Luci and smiles.

Lucifer has posed:
"Fair enough. I think I like the idea of just laying out under the stars of our own little island for a night." Simplicity at it's finest, topped with wild pig. Of which, Lucifer reaches to have yet another bite of. The only thing really missing is whiskey, but he's fine with not having any this night. "Of all the places in the world, I picked a pretty fucking interesting one... interesting in that it's not interesting. At all. Fairly bland really."

Sinister has posed:
"Unspoiled and unpopulated. If you were going to fade away and take your curtain call, it's a good choice." Black humour but nevertheless, Sin chuckles softly about it. He lays down by the fire, looking up at the milky way, clear for the lack of light pollution. "And frankly, backwoods of beyond. You wouldn't expect Lucifer Fucking Morningstar to be here, would you? Perfect." He looks over and upside down at Lucifer, smiles to him and gazes again to the heavens. "Has the sky changed much for you? I mean, it must have. THis is not the same sky of a hundred years ago, let alone a thousand or a million..."

Lucifer has posed:
"It's changed a little bit, but if you think about it.. also not really by much. We could go to where that starlight is shining from, and it would look much different. Some of those stars are already dead... we're just still seeing their light because it's taken so long to reach us." Lucifer offers as he shifts to lie down next to Sinister. Then, he seems to think on it a moment. A closing of his eyes and he does a thing he's likely not *supposed* to do too often. Soon the fire is dimmed, they're laying on a sturdy matterss, and can cuddle under a light blanket if they wish. "Just you me and the stars my love. I like this. Truly. And the milky way is amazingly beautiful."

Sinister has posed:
Conjouring! Well, who says he can't use magic? He is more than parlour tricks. ALthough a mattress on Tristan island is probably going to have to vanish afterwards. Sinister takes but a moment to thrust an arm out, to proffer it as a pillow so they can lie, side by side, hip to hip, ankle to ankle chest to chest, but with a whole lot of unknown inbetween. Maybe not a blanket. Maybe just a sheet. Africa. Hot! With the finality of a heartfelt statement: "Me, too, beloved. I can't be myself with just anyone. I think in the end, I could only ever BE myself with someone like you. Probably vice versa. And isn't it? I was always curious as to how that was our galaxy. I still don't entirely understand it, except that we're seeing the outer spiral arm and the rest of it is always off of our hemisphere. We do exist on the outer spiral arm of our galactic body."

Lucifer has posed:
Africa is hot, yes, but this isn't Africa really. It's a tiny island off the southwestern coast of South Africa. That being thought, maybe no blanket, maybe a sheet. Just something to cover up with, though in the grand scheme of things, who is going to see them should they get naked and flirty? It's just nice to be on a mattress, under the stars, with the mind finally past it's last breaking point and hopefully without another one on the horizon. Lucifer shifts, cuddles, and contemplates eyelids as the fire dies and the night fades to full black.

Sinister has posed:
And they won't be 'woken' until the african sun is climbing the horizon. And then it's but a thought for some, to teleport. Nathaniel almost lost something he loved dearly tonight, it will be small wonder that he covets it just as dearly until the moment is disturbed by the cycle of time.