Unlucky | Lucifer and Damon
Lucifer scoffed faintly, a light slip of a sigh huffing out from his lips as he glanced to the demon. He was certainly fishing for a reason for his ego to get boosted; most of the Hell beings the archangel knew of would simply take for granted any given vague reason their ‘father’ had decided to pay them a visit, projecting their own satisfaction of themselves onto his reason for ever dropping by.
That, and he definitely needed to stop it with the pet names. Ah well, it would do no wrong to jest a bit longer in their performance of words.
"Oh, yes. You’re very different,” the archangel spoke softly, gesturing broadly with a hand as he spoke. “Because of your different opinion, you’ve been outcasted. You don’t enjoy what most demons will consider a celebration. You’ve a special mind of your own.”
It was ironic and almost sourly quaint of Lucifer to draw the parallels he had, but really, those similarities were a riot, weren’t they? “Besides,” the archangel added a bit later on, one of his brows rising lightly, “I was searching for company. You were present. Why not?” Though it was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration to say he was looking for company.
A special mind of of your own. Damon nearly laughs out-loud at those words, but he manages to contain his amusement. "You make being different sound so ... exotic, Lucifer." the demon smirks, "But let me tell you that being marked as different or wrong only serves to get you killed."
All his life he has been hunted and despised by his own kind. He has been tortured and played with, treated as something less than humanity - which is saying a lot. Honestly, it's no wonder he has trust issues.
"Well, love, I'm glad I could be of some use to you." Sarcasm drips from Damon's words before he can bite them back. He knows it's foolish to taunt Lucifer; a wrong word and he could be killed in an instant. But he can't help it.
