sirenspull | video.

[ the video reveals an older man, thin nearly to the point of being skeletal, dressed sharply in a black suit and with his black hair slicked back. he's sitting neatly on a bench somewhere under a street-light, surrounded by the darkness. he seems comfortable enough with it, though-- it suits him.

there's a silver-headed cane propped against the bench beside him, a drink in a paper cup next to his thigh, and he's balling up the foil from what looks to have been some kind of chili-dog. there's no telling how his device is propped up, because it simply seems to be hovering in the air.

he finally glances up at it, black eyes strange and somehow terrifying despite his relatively harmless appearance and mild expression. long fingers curl around the cup and he takes a sip through the straw before seeming to settle on what he wants to say, his words deliberate and tone even, hinting at no particular emotion beyond perhaps the faintest trace of annoyance. ]

Well. So much for the star that I was rather occupied with. How is it I wind up on this dismal little planet so often.

[ he licks his thumb, setting aside the foil. ]

I suppose I could blame it on a certain significant other--[ chuck, he's looking at you. 8| ]--being rather himself. Or the Winchesters, perhaps, given their remarkable lack of self-preservation as a family. Or the little winged children bickering so much.

[ a pause, gaze lifting again, intense and disturbing. ]

Well. Shall we all coexist peacefully, then, or will I need to turn someone over my knee?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No...it really is. Things don't work the way you'd think.

You seem to be under the impression that you know how I think.

[Shrug] I don't care how you think. Let's be honest, have I ever cared about your inner workings? Your job, your pickle chips? They mean nothing to me. You were just a tool back home, and here you're less than that.

So here you are, acting like you know this world. Trust me, you don't.

[ in the time lucifer's been talking, he's pulled a pocket-watch out of his jacket, flicking it open to check it. he puts it carefully away again, then, curling a hand around the head of his cane. ]

My goodness, aren't we bitter. Been here a while, then, have you?

[ it's.. pretty much impossible to win with death, mostly because he doesn't play. ]

No, not long. [He has no sense of time anymore, Daddy burned that right out of him. This is just Lucifer, crazy as a fucking bat. Same old.] Now tell me something honestly--can you feel something strange here?

[ the look he gives lucifer says he's basically wasting his time. ]

Really, we must have a chat sometime about your chronic underestimation.

Death, you're just like me. You can't leave here at will, so I don't care how big your endowment is. Just because you slipped your leash doesn't mean I'm going to cowtoe for you like everyone else does.

Go ahead and kill me. Let's see what happens. Let's see if you even can.

[ a sigh. ]

Goodness, everything is a battle with you, isn't it? All in due time, and do try to be more polite. It's as if you've forgotten all sense of courtesies in the last few thousand years.

No one came to have teatime with me in Hell. It takes a village, and you all scattered on me~

[Smiling impishly at him, not unlike the expression he'd so frequently had as a younger angel.]

Lucifer. Leave it.

[Leveling a disapproving look at his brother.]

Oh, come on, he's not going to kill me. We both know that.

[ he tuts quietly. ] Hardly an excuse for rudeness.

[ he banishes the foil and soda, rising to his feet and brushing himself off. ]

To think how charming you can be when you try to.

Come 'round and see the kids, I'll charm your shoes off.

Hey- buddy- don't take this the wrong way, but...

Are you being a moron on purpose? I mean, I only ask because it's kinda weird. There's the normal spectrum of angel... derp, and there's specialized Lucifer derp, but this seems kind of outside that.

Is everything okay?

Cabin fever.

[How far they've come, that Lucifer has gone from either snidely retorting or hanging up, to answering. Maybe not in a forthcoming manner, but it's better than before.]

Besides, he's not going to kill me. He's more patient than you'd think.

Dude, you- don't wanna piss him off. Maybe, you know...

[He pauses, closes his eyes, opens them and sighs, having obviously decided to say whatever it is anyway. Trust, Lucifer, isn't it nice to sort-of have?]

Maybe God is sitting on His hands right now, but Death doesn't take any crap. I mean- maybe you don't actually know that, but I've seen it.

Just... word to the wise.

God's not sitting on His hands, he's on a permanent leave of absence...mentally if not physically. I'm not confusing Him with Death.

Death isn't vindictive. He's not going to kill me before my time, and he's not going to hurt me because...well just between you and me, he can't top my Daddy's handiwork there, and he knows it.

It's just banter. It doesn't bother Death, so don't worry.

Banter? Are you kidding? You're being combative and picking a fight for... literally no reason. At all.

I can't pick a fight with someone who won't throw a punch. He won't do a thing.

That's a pretty big assumption.

He's had chance after chance. He didn't do a thing when I chained him, and he doesn't care what I say about him or think of him, so why would he waste the time?

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