Through The Gloom

indie lucifer the voidwing from rage of bahamut

[duskfeathered-blog]

darkd0minator‌:

Were you any other demon. It shouldn’t have come as any real surprise to hear those words–and to a certain extent, it didn’t. Azazel was not, after all, completely unaware of the favor he had enjoyed during his tenure as a general in Lucifer’s service; in fact, when he thought about it now…it was likely only due to the remnants of that favor that he had been able to convince Lucifer to finally join the war against Charioce XVII that handful of months ago–or that he was permitted to stand in this study at all, given that battle’s result.

Still…a postponement of his punishment and immediate return to service was…–Azazel understood quite well that the former was not necessarily indicative of mercy, but it could certainly be interpreted as light action compared to the other options Lucifer had to choose from. Would such relative lenience not reflect poorly on him in the eyes of the demonic courts?

Or perhaps–

“Seeing as I have been lacking a suitable right hand man, you will once again be serving directly under me.“

–perhaps this in itself was intended to serve as a form of punishment. To be returned to his prior position in spite of the glaring, unspoken truth that he had long since ceased to deserve it…in spite of the fact that he could so easily replaced–should have been replaced.

To be placed under near-constant scrutiny by not only his king, but the demonic populace at large…

“…”

It…no. It still didn’t feel like enough, soon enough–and he doubted he would be the only one to feel that way.

“I…understand, and am grateful beyond words for the opportunity. However, Lucifer-sama–”

Azazel straightened from his bow to stare up at his king directly.

“Are you certain it’s wise to return me to my former position so immediately? I cannot imagine it will be a well-received decision…among the courts, or the people.”

Lucifer reclines into his throne as Azazel shares his worries. Certainly they weren’t unfounded and yet...

“My decisions were thrown into question far before today, but given your absentee status you can be forgiven of being entirely unaware.”

There’s a carefully measured level of irritation coating those words and action. What right did a demon removed from the chaotic politics for those five years have in speaking for any of them? What right did Azazel have to cast doubt upon the kings judgement? 

In truth Lucifer cared far less for the matter than presented. Five years of chaos is little that a blink of the eye to those unbound by time; whatever issue cropped up within the courts in regards to him and his decisions would eventually fade away.

But part of being king is the presentation of it all.

“Whatever may come from reinstating you will be of minimal concern, for what transgressions you may be accused of, there is a sizable portion of demons who were concerned for you.”

And that alone should sell the intent behind his actions, mercy or no. As it all stood now, it would be harder to appease those who Lucifer had already lost most favor with since the raid of Cocytus. Whatever he attempted to do would only invite more scrutiny with such a group, but there is a benefit to winning over a smaller crowd. While at the same time regaining a valuable individual with a skill set many had, but did not excel in the way Azazel did. 

Lucifer had everything to gain and nothing to lose: a move that was as safe as it was obvious.

“Beyond that however is that it is a waste of my time to demote and discipline someone like you in the first place, especially with how obstinate you are.”

Lucifer well and truly could not think of anyone else within the frozen wastelands that was even less worthy of it. Azazel’s almost entirely contrary and rebellious nature reduced punishment and discipline to a fruitless endeavor; enough so that just hearing it be suggested simply made it sound like it was a self serving formality.

How unfortunate that such a trait used to be equal parts admirable and endearing, now reduced to nothing more than an unfortunate hindrance.

“Of course if you remain dissatisfied with my judgement you may speak your piece or leave if choose, I will not stop you.”

It is an offer not given lightly. It is fully within the kings power to have turned this into a one sided discussion and an unobjectionable ruling. But instead he offers choice to someone who in the eyes of another may not have deserved it at all. The offer however is laced with a level of acceptance that could only manifest out of a lack of faith. 

To offer the choice to leave, be free of all strings attached, to someone who had come seeking return into their own society. 

It speaks of how low the kings expectations were set, no matter how rapt his attention may be towards the demon now given the floor.

[duskfeathered-blog]

darkd0minator‌:

“Early”… Well, that was one way of putting it. Azazel did suppose a demon more attached to their continued existence would have waited for a much longer stretch of time before attempting to return to a demonic stronghold–if they were bold enough to attempt to return at all…though that was neither here nor there, really.

Because while it was true that Azazel had never been able to claim full understanding of Lucifer’s thoughts, if he knew his superior in the least…then that offhand comment wasn’t intended to hold much weight, anyway.

Far less weight, at any rate, than the deafening sound of turning pages, the heaviness of Lucifer’s stare upon him, or the words the other fallen angel next spoke:

“I suppose I should comment on the sheer gall you have and be offended at your presence.”

“I’ll spare us both the inanities however, why have you returned this time Azazel.”

“…”

He could feel doubt, sharp and unrelenting, jabbing at the resolution and faux confidence he had toiled to dredge up prior to stepping foot in the study–but Azazel knew better to keep Lucifer waiting for too long. So with a slight bow and an appropriate amount of shame tinging his hidden features, Azazel answered. 

“… Lucifer-sama. I wish to ask your permission to re-enter your service.”

He feels…pathetic, coming crawling back like this, and a distant part of him that had somehow managed to cling to some semblance of pride after everything he had been through hated it. However…–

“I am aware that I have very little right to request anything of the sort, given my numerous–” Azazel gritted his teeth. “–…failings, over these past five years; and I have no expectation of retaining my prior position or status. Rather, I am fully prepared to accept any demotion and additional discipline you would choose to inflict.”

How readily Azazel admits the truth of the matter is something of a comfort. It is truly undeniable how severely Azazel’s actions had impacted demons, in ways seen and unseen. Ways Lucifer had little care to reiterate, they both knew how far reaching the consequences were. 

Lucifer eventually relents and shifts his gaze away from his subordinate, reclining with a gentle, thoughtful hm. It’s not as if Lucifer would have had any reluctance in simply giving Azazel his position back after a proper amount of time. The wounds of demons ran deep, festering with time and in ways the demon king knew Azazel would not have seen.

“Its true that you have very little right to ask such of me and were you any other demon, I would not bother to entertain this conversation.”

There were after all plenty of reasons not to. Accepting someone from the upper echelons back within the fold of demon society after they had gone rogue was unheard of as well as being both poor form and poor example. Just what exactly such an act would invite is something most wouldn’t want to think about, Lucifer himself couldn’t deny such a thing either were one to ask him.

Those very thoughts are why the king keeps his eyes off of the display below him, keeps quiet in deep contemplation. Yet a silence that eventually shatters with the gentle thump of the book in Lucifer’s hands being added to one of the innumerable stacks. His voice follows quickly after.

“I have heard your request and shall bestow an answer."

His next words are chosen with care, emphasized with him finally deigning to peer down at Azazel with a gaze as cold and distant as before.

“I am not inclined to waste your talents nor my time so you may consider your rightful punishment postponed, as such you will be returned to service. "

He waits for a moment, to let that bit of his answer have the time to sink in. It’s not a promise that the punishment will be light, nor a promise of it being severe either. Though that may be suitable enough as punishment, to accept and dread the unknown.

“Seeing as I have been lacking a suitable right hand man, you will once again be serving directly under me."

Simple as the words may be, the care and precision of the statement is indubitable. Certainly, none of what he’d stated was a lie. Azazel’s disappearance left a potion that could never quite be filled try as other demons might to stand in. And yet that gifted position belies something else, a statement born of doubt yet a statement left unsaid but rather implied. 

To serve the king is an honor, but to be watched and assessed by him is far from it.

“I trust that you understand that this is the only second chance you will receive. I will not bestow another, so I expect that you will live up to the expectations your position has.”

“Unless you have any objections you would care to share.”

[darkd0minator]

One week after Bahamut’s seeming annihilation at the human capital of Anatae, Azazel made the decision to finally “return” to the icy wasteland the better majority of demons now called “home.”

It was not a pleasant decision to make by any means. Charioce XVII’s recently-adopted policy of treating demons as “paid workers” seemed pathetically insufficient in the way of reparations after the humiliation and brutal abuse he and his brethren had suffered at mortal hands, and as for the Wasteland itself…Azazel could never manage to think of it with anything more than contempt. It stood as nothing but a bitter reminder of how far demons and fallen angels alike had fallen since Cocytus’ destruction–of the day his kind had been forced to flee–from humans–to the farthest, most uninhabitable reaches of the land just to survive. 

No, it was not a choice Azazel had derived any amount of joy or satisfaction from…but with demons finally free to leave the human capital if they so chose, there was precious little reason for him to linger any longer. 

That was the conclusion he’d come to…but that was not to say that returning “home” was without its fair share of problems–potential, guaranteed, or otherwise. 

Most pressing was the notion that Azazel may no longer have a post to return to. Regardless of his intentions, there was no denying that, for five years, Azazel had all but abandoned his position and severed contact with both his superior and the demonic courts. To return now and expect his prior status to remain intact, despite accomplishing none of what he had set out to do in either Anatae or in (what should have been) the final battle against the human king…it was just as arrogant and presumptuous as his original demand for reinforcements all those weeks ago had been. Indeed, it seemed far more likely that he might be banished for his failures–or disciplined, at the very least.

Even so…it was difficult to imagine living out the entirety of his existence anywhere but at Lucifer’s side. That was why, even if his efforts had been for naught…–

With quiet footsteps, Azazel entered his superior’s study, waiting a few seconds in silence for acknowledgement before finally opting to speak.

“… Lucifer-sama.”

[duskfeathered-blog]

A page turns first, silence persists second, but there is a shift. The slightest incline, as the demon perched on high peers just so over his book.

“You’re early.”

Early is perhaps a confusing way to put it. But the statement itself is entirely one of a throwaway; so little thought put into it and any possible conversation that silence claws its way back and reigns again over the study. 

Early however, throwaway as it was, means a lot of things:

I did not expect you back so soon

I did not expect you back at all.

It is not as if the demon speaking held questions towards the loyalty of his runaway general, no Lucifer knew there were fewer in his ranks that could even vaguely compare to the fiercely loyal Azazel. But even Lucifer would expect that someone who abandoned his post, returned only to denounce his leader as a coward, and demand an army for a war they simply could not fight. He would have thought someone like that would have counted their blessings and stayed out of sight. 

It is not that Lucifer would have thought Azazel a coward, but he would not have blamed him for staying so far out of reach of theoretical punishment. 

A punishment that Lucifer could with but a thought mete out in an instant, one suitable for every crime that demons could charge him with. Instead however, Lucifer continues on with his book. Almost entirely ignoring the other presence within his study. A page turns, another, and another. Eventually one page stops midway, gingerly placed between clawed fingers.

“I suppose I should comment on the sheer gall you have and be offended at your presence.”

But I won’t goes unsaid.

Its not entirely unknown just how much favor Lucifer shows towards his general. Any other demon might not be standing where Azazel was, and that would be if they managed to not be reduced to dust for insubordination first. 

That favor still works towards Azazel’s benefit, whatever terrible fate that could have befallen the general simply doesn’t. In the grandest of pictures, with every detail accounted for, such mercy is more than Azazel surely deserves. But it never crosses the mind of the one who is ultimately judge, jury, and executioner. 

After all, if there was anything Lucifer could have faith in when it came to his most trusted general then it is that Azazel will more willingly punish himself for his crimes.

So instead, Lucifer gives the other his full and undivided attention for better or worse.

“I’ll spare us both the inanities however, why have you returned this time Azazel.”

Five years prior, Azazel would have been a much easier read. He would not have been an unpredictable hurricane of righteous anger and hurt, instead a demon of unflinching pride and power. He is no longer that. He is. Different, in a way that Lucifer would not have predicted. 

So that question must be posed, the same way it must be posed to a vague acquaintance. A stranger. And with it a distance most professional; mercy and graceful favor may have been given already to the demon skulking his way into Lucifer’s study but that was as far as it could go. 

[velpi]

ルシフェル様

[necroaesthesia]

First drawing of the year. Oh lord…

[duskfeathered-blog]

aonoshoujo‌:

“Ah?!” Lyria nearly yelps when the stranger suddenly breaks the silence, hardly helping if his intent was to tear her curious gaze away from him. If anything, his hard stare was grounding, bringing back and focusing her erratic train of thought. 

“Yes, yes.” For a moment, it seems like she really will do just as he says and she had intended, the one novel she had gone to such extent to acquire now in her hand, but Lyria still can’t help but pause. She fidgets for a moment, fingers running up and down the book’s spine as she gathers get wits. “It’s just…. you look like someone I know, but also… very different….?” 

She couldn’t quite place it into words; though the facial structure and hair was similar, it wasn’t quite the same as the Primarch Lucifer’s. This one seemed… harsher, in a way, with more defined featured that just made him seem aloof. The horns did little to make him look more approachable, but at this point Lyria could hardly be intimidated. He did offer her advice rather than outright scold her.

Wait, wait… Could this person be…? “Lucifer-san….?” 

He knows instantly who she’s referring to, before she even utters his name. Both of who she could possibly refer to. After all he’d had the misfortune of crossing paths with both the cowardly cherub and oblivious angel. Not that he wouldn’t have been aware of them one way or another, he recalls talk of another Lucifer with Azazel and then after-

Realization doesn’t dawn upon him, doesn’t elicit surprise. 

“You must be the girl I spoke to along with the other angel.”

It is as much acknowledgement of the conversation and the other two participants as it was going to get. They’d been so unfortunately determined to bother him at the time that it’d grated on his nerves. Neither of them seeming to understand that he’d wanted to cut the conversation short.

Unlike the other parties the fallen angel was far from social, valuing the peace and quiet where he could find it. Even now - especially now - in a place that such a thing was supposed to be guaranteed. His comment was meant to be a hint, a cue, for her to take her leave. Instead it was read as a means to continue the conversation. Did neither of those two have any clue as to how to behave in a library? Or with someone who clearly didn’t want to be disturbed?

“You are correct in your assumption, I’m the Lucifer from Mistarcia.”

“Now should I assume that like the angel you want me to entertain a conversation, or are you going to leave me be.”

Lucifer’s tone is even, betraying the sharpness of his comment. There’s little reason for him to entertain a conversation really. At least besides the fact that from his impression from that prior conversation over the phone - and then the conversation with the angel - was that they were both stubborn in their ways. But the demon could hope that the girl would voluntarily walk away.

[yraishi]

luciface sketches + void!luci I did to motivate me to work hard during gw

[duskfeathered-blog]

since i’ve got mostly everything attended to, i’m tossing out a starter call capped at 3 to get some new threads rolling. anyone from a cygames ip though is free to throw a like beyond the cap.

[duskfeathered-blog]

mycsei‌:

  Lucifer knew, knew of his work and his fame. He supposed it should have been obvious, his producers made sure to make him as much of a star as possible– putting him everywhere. Lucio himself tried to avoid such press and seeing those things as much as he could, in honesty, he couldn’t stand to be in the spotlight, and in turn could never adjust to the fame. People were shallow, such things he didn’t care for, glory or fame, to be noticed. In fact, he always wished that he would be more transparent… at least as a kid.

  He knew it was obvious that of course his work would catch wind of his brother’s attention. He wasn’t sure if Lucifer didn’t want to see him or what… he supposed knowing his position and job, it was probably for the best… but Lucio knew deep inside that he would have done anything to have seen Lucifer again, and ask him if he’s proud. For years, he always wondered if Lucifer would be proud of him, for taking these matters into his own hands, for doing these kinds of things… he could have cared less if their mother said he was a monster– 

  Perhaps he was living in his own fantasy world, pretending that everything is alright when he knew that it wasn’t. Of course hearing about Lucifer’s position was unavoidable, especially when it came to crime, sharing the same face. His producers hated his brother, but Lucio would always keep them at bay on his end. After all, they’d always complain about the ratings when there was someone with his face committing crimes. 

  Yes, he knew– he knew for the longest time but he could never bring himself to blame him. Maybe he was just too soft on the only two people who ever gave him love and compassion growing up… or perhaps he was just naive enough to not face the reality of the situation.

     ‘ …I don’t want to charm anyone, I just… I just want to be with my family. ’

  He finally spoke up. A soft bitterness in his voice. Though he didn’t want to deflect Lucifer’s compliment, after all, he always loved hearing praise from him no matter how small or insignificant they seemed. There was a certain bitterness left in his heart that numbed his senses and allowed him to pass by the days without thinking about it. After all, back then there was nothing he could do– so why would he change the way things were?

  ‘ I always wanted to ask you… if you were proud of me… I always wanted to know… ’

  Always wanted to know what Lucifer would say, if he saw him like this. He wanted to hold everything in and put on a brave face for his big brother. Yet when he felt warm fingers brush his hair, he couldn’t help but feel a powerful wave of emotions hit him. Tears overflowing from the edges of his eyes, he took a quick step closer– hugging his brother tightly.

           ‘ Brother… I missed you… more than you could imagine… ’

  He said choking a sob. He hadn’t felt such a gentle gesture in a long time. In truth, he barely had any physical contact with anyone, nevertheless one of a gentle touch. Burying his face into the other, his fingers clung to his brother’s shirt, trembling softly.

  ‘ I don’t care what everyone else thinks… no one could ever replace you… ’

Had anyone else gone so far as to touch Lucifer in such a way, the repercussions would have been severe. A part of him would have taken some form of action. A part of him that just can't trust anymore. While he doesn't live in a never ending spiral of paranoia Lucifer isn't so oblivious that he could be comfortable with just anything or anyone.

But Lucio was never one for trickery. Him and Luciel were honest in varied ways but he'd been able to read them like open books. For as much as Lucio had grown those too honest - too obvious - feelings still seemed to remain the same. That alone would allow anyone to be so close.

The eldest brother continues to run his finger through Lucio's hair, mindful of the feelings being spilled so haphazardly in both words and tears.

Though he does not expect it to soothe, no the feelings he sees even Lucifer can tell are far more than gentle touch and words can truly soothe and silence. Not that he has the right to such a thing anyways, what happened to his siblings he may not be blamed for explicitly. But they are the result of his choices.

So the least he can do - alien as it might be - is to let Lucio cling and cry, console him gently and silently. 

It’s all Lucifer can do.

“You’ve done far more than I ever could have.”

The praise is awkward but sincere. There wasn’t much of a future for Lucifer, no matter where he went, no matter what he did. His efforts poured into making sure his siblings had everything, that they could do almost anything without the repercussions their mother would come up with. All of Lucifer’s focus then had been single minded, self-sacrificing.

Then he left and threw his lot in with the lowest of the low. And he has thrived there since.

“I’m far more proud of you than I can express.”

His brothers didn’t sink to the lows he had - the ones he cared for anyways Lucilius was simply predestined for falling just as far - they didn’t become like him. There was nothing he couldn’t have been more proud of. However. That is where all the supportive words end, the man lets a comfortable silence fall between them as he considers what to say next.

On one hand Lucio’s sheer devotion would be touching, on the other it seemed so entirely alien to his brother that Lucifer had little desire to acknowledge it. Long had he grown used to the sort of devotion people have to another simply because they want something from him. To see - hear - that sort of devotion based entirely out of familial love. He doesn’t know how to approach that, doesn’t know how to approach the sort of genuine person Lucio continued to be.

And he doesn’t, for a moment. Opting instead to continue running his fingers through Lucio’s hair and eventually the hug Lucifer had been surprised with is returned. It’s awkward and far from tight and secure, but it is gentle. Far more gentle than he’s been with anyone in years, having been so perfectly distanced from others in all regards.

“You don’t have to worry about those sorts of things anymore.”

‘You don’t have to worry about being alone’ is a sentiment he can understand and express. But it is not a promise. It is not a promise that Lucifer himself will always be present, he simply cannot be. It is a simple reassurance. He knows that he can’t remain unknown to his brother anymore so there is little threat of Lucifer once again simply vanishing from his brothers life despite how much every part of him desires to.

[guidinggospel]

Six-winged Omen

[duskfeathered-blog]

arbiterofdawn‌:

The relief of discovering a familiar face was short-lived. Lucifer could see the apprehension on his oldest brother’s face as clear as day, and the things he said were even more worry-inducing.

“You’ve been chased?”

After his encounter with the alternate Lucilius…that was the last thing that Lucifer wanted to hear. His mind was whirring at a mile a minute, and he tried to push the fear down before it took hold of him and completely robbed him of his rationality, as it was wont to do ever since this whole situation unfolded.

“Is it…your copy who’s been chasing you? Or…” Lucifer shook his head. “No, that doesn’t matter. We should find some place to hide, then…”

Instinctively, he took hold of his older brother’s sleeve, grasping onto it desperately; both a gesture of worry for his distressed brother, and a silent plea not to leave him alone. Lucifer found that he was slipping into old habits again, and as much as he told himself to stop, he simply couldn’t.

“I got separated from Lucio in the panic. And then, I was also…chased.” He barely held back a shudder. It hadn’t been his own copy who pursued him, but a copy of Lucilius, and that had been terrifying enough. “Perhaps not as persistently as you have been, but the city isn’t safe for us anymore. I’ve heard that our doubles are forming groups and looking for us… and I have reason to believe that they want us gone.” 

He felt a pit opening in his stomach as he thought of Lucio and Sandalphon, still separated. Had they been hunted down too? Were they in danger? No, he couldn’t wear himself thin with such thoughts. He had to focus on the brother who was with him, who meant just as much to him as the other two did. 

“But we should find cover in that case.” He took a cursory glance around the area. Nothing but the city behind them, and a few structures rising from the horizon in the distance… Ah, but there were trees in that other direction… “Maybe we should go that way. It looks like there’s forest cover there. We might be able to lose your pursuer if we hide there.” 

The weight on his arm is familiar, grounding. 

A desperate reprieve from being lost in the poisonous haze of worry and fear, though it is no cure. But it brings back a rationality that had been lost, eases the man’s panic into something far more manageable. With it however brings a potent sense of shame. How shameful, terrible of him, to fall so easily to his emotions. To this situation. After all the eldest been through so much worse than being chased.

So to be like this, to be so unsightly in the eyes of anyone else it makes a part of him burn in frustration. It’s all so terrible and it’s even worse since he knows this is all a part of someone’s terrible game with him. A terrible game that now he’s brought his youngest brother into entirely inadvertently. Dread slowly claws its way at him again, but this time not for himself. Don’t drag family into your business, it whispers. Distance yourself, get away from him. Don’t ruin it here. 

Lucifer reaches up with his free hand, thinks of tearing Luciel’s grip off but his hand instead clasps over his brothers, unable to turn the youngest away. Unable to turn a blind eye to Luciel’s silent way of asking for safety, for help. 

The years have done little to keep him from acting the part of a brother when it came down to it. So he reaches out with his free hand and gently runs it through his younger brothers hair. An acknowledgement of Luciel’s own well restrained panic, a distraction from his own temporary as it may be.

“I’m glad that you managed to keep yourself safe.”

There was another comment - bitten back - and plenty more that were far less comforting and even less pleasant. Being so considerate and kind is no longer second nature but Luciel deserves to be spared such behavior.

“I know little about the situation, I was-” 

Debilitated, cornered, chased. Lucifer had so little time to figure anything out. 

“- too preoccupied to learn much of anything.”

But the man can’t confess that, his pride winning out against what would be an innocent and more informative statement.

“If that’s the case however then your suggestion is the best course of action.”

Though when Lucifer turns his attention to the distance, to where his brothers gaze is, it seemed so far. So incredibly far. He recalls the rapid flapping of wings before it was replaced with a sweet, comforting silence. 

“We need to get moving though, my pursuer has wings.”

‘They’ll reach us faster if we idle’. Though he certainly doesn’t need to say it, that unfortunate reality can set in on its own. But. The more he himself dwells on it, the more another thought comes to mind.

“Will you be able to make it that far?”

[thanatosbane-blog]

playing house

[duskfeathered-blog]

thanatosbane‌:

Azazel wasn’t sure what was more startling: that Lucifer would so readily allow him anywhere near his wings, or the fact that he had just as swiftly thrown him under the proverbial wagon–and in front of his charge, at that.

“……”

Disgruntlement aside, what…was he supposed to make of this situation? From the moment his superior had appeared in Spirale, Azazel had attempted to tread lightly while in his presence. He’d tried to avoid provoking Lucifer at all costs–had even made a point of adjusting the formality of his speech when addressing him, just in case the fallen angel harbored any lingering resentment towards Azazel for his prior impudence and insistence on a battle Lucifer had never wanted any part of. Yet here was Lucifer, willingly bestowing upon him one of the greatest displays of trust a fallen angel of Mistarcia could afford to another…

Was this what forgiveness looked like? And if this was, indeed, intended as such…would declining now not be more inappropriate than the initial gesture?

(… Ugh. How could Lucifer simultaneously be so clear and so cryptic…?!)

“… Under–Understood. If it’s no issue, then…I suppose I can help.”

Azazel’s attempts to ‘help,’ as it turned out, weren’t quite as effective as Mugaro had hoped they would be.

While the demon’s height provided definite advantage in reaching the upper tips of Lucifer’s wings, Azazel was so excessively careful in how he handled the other fallen angel’s feathers that Mugaro was more or less convinced that, with some effort, he could accomplish the same amount in less time–by himself. 

Eventually, the child’s exasperation became too much to bear in silence any longer.

“Azazel…if you keep that pace, we’ll be at this for hours.”

Azazel, for his part, barely looked up from his task before replying.

“Don’t you think you’ve been working a bit too carelessly? Don’t think I didn’t notice those three feathers that came free when you were toweling Lucifer-sama’s wing down.”

“Eh–?!”

Mugaro paused in his own ministrations, face scrunching up in a childish pout.

“That wasn’t my fault! They were already loose–right? Lucifer-san…!”

Lucifer himself barely looks up from his own task, the attention paid to his two helpers almost entire minimal. To some a sign of excessive trust and one even he himself wouldn’t give to the attendants back home who very explicitly were given the job to tend to whatever whimsy and need the fallen could have had.

But he knows where his trust is put. He knows that Azazel wont betray it readily and knows the child has even less reason to. Suffice to say: he’d tuned them out almost entirely until the boy spoke up. Something about stray feathers or another, by the time his attention returns Lucifer barely catches the boy trying to get him on his side.

The fallen makes a bit of a show of looking like he’s lost in thought before the wing Mugaro was working on stretches and shakes just slightly, loose feathers gently falling to the ground from them before the wing retracts again. 

“I suppose they could have been.”

Oh he knows the answer is that it was just as equally likely there were more than a few loose feathers tucked away as it was that Mugaro had pulled them accidentally. 

“If they weren’t I don’t believe I’d have felt it anyways.”

Little pinpricks of pain like that were a far cry from the constant agony he’d been in back in Mistarcia. The wings of any angel fallen or not were sensitive make no mistake, but Arbiter’s potent curse had long since given him the ability to ignore that level of pain. If the child plucked them or not, Lucifer never would have been able to tell.

“But-” 

The retracted wing moves slightly, the joint of it gently nudging Mugaro to emphasize the almost playful tone Lucifer takes.

“-I will concede that you did ask quite a bit of Azazel, whether or not you’re aware of what sort of task he’s been put up to.”

Not that he himself will admit that in a small way he might have coerced the other into it as well with his comments.

“If our positions were reversed, I’d take just as much gentle care of Azazel’s wings. His might be far worse than mine, anyways.”

Worse in what way the fallen didn’t opt to elaborate on, though from his tone the comment is meant entirely in jest as Lucifer was perhaps a little too unwilling to entirely let go of teasing his general while he could. 

[thanatosbane-blog]

peace of mind? don’t know her

[duskfeathered-blog]

thanatosbane‌:

(… Well, that was true enough, he supposed: if Lucifer honestly intended to insult him to any extent, he wasn’t the type to mince words in the matter. Far, far from it, in fact.)

As Lucifer mulled over the new information, Azazel searched his superior’s expression in contemplative silence. The other fallen angel appeared to be taking their circumstances in relative stride, despite the ludicrousness of their situation and the numerous inconveniences it presented–but then, that was hardly surprising. Rather, that was simply how Lucifer was, had always been: ever calm, calculating, and rational, no matter how dire the strait. It was incredibly rare for him to lose himself to or trust emotion without question–

Which was why it also came as no surprise when Lucifer pressed him for elaboration on the matter of Belial, instead of simply taking Azazel at his (admittedly somewhat vague) word.

“……”

It wasn’t a surprise, not really, but…in truth, a part of him had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Much of the fallen’s caution, after all, had to do with the result of his and Belial’s last clash, which had been…–

“… He refers to himself as a ‘fallen angel,’” Azazel finally began, “and in appearance as well as ability, he does resemble one of our kind. It’s more accurate to say, however, that he’s something between a fallen angel and a golem: an artificial life created to fulfill a role, yet capable of independent thought and action.

“The inhabitants of the world he hails from refer to him as a ‘primal beast,’ or ‘primarch.’“

The demon paused a moment to gather his thoughts. To keep his explanation succinct and to the point, some context would likely have to be left out…but he could expound upon the finer details of this, too, at a later time.

Azazel pressed on.

“Over the course of my captivity here, I have found allies–allies that were taken from that very same world. That man, Belial, is a longstanding enemy of theirs…and some months ago, he came close to killing two of them. 

“I was furious, and wanted him to pay…so when I encountered him again a handful of weeks later, I attacked him with the intent to kill him. I…failed.”

Azazel lowered his gaze, fingers curling into tight fists at his sides. 

(They were trembling just slightly–not with regret or fear, but red-hot rage simmering just beneath the surface.)

“I was still stripped of much of my magical power at the time…but I won’t attempt to make an excuse of it. A loss is still a loss…and had it not been for a stroke of luck and that rat bastard’s insistence on making publicized spectacles of his kills, I almost assuredly would have died that day. That, in addition to the history he shares with the Lucifer of his own world…is why I would have you avoid him at all costs.”

He exhaled slowly, attempting to calm himself and keep his tone at least somewhat even. It didn’t work.

“… Enough of my strength has returned that I believe I would be more than a match for him now, should it come to it…but in matters pertaining to your safety, I would rather not take chances needlessly.”

If he were another there are more than a few comforting things he might have said. ‘But you are here’ ‘You survived’ so on, so forth. Empty sentiments, the lot of those comments. Of course Azazel would have survived. If there were any other general within his ranks that Lucifer could pit against insurmountable odds and expect success Azazel would be the one. So Lucifer barely bats an eye at the whole tale, as seemingly unimpressed as he usually was with any state of affairs. 

At most his curiosity piques at the sound of something new lurking about the city. even if the prospect of a golem with a brain wasn’t entirely ingenious. Rare, but nothing entirely special. Not at the barest of descriptions anyways. Whatever magic or physical prowess the creature possessed may change such opinion, yet from the sounds of it his general hadn’t been able to assess that information.

Yet at least, for as much as he could trust Azazel to make it trough even the most unfavorable odds. His general was just as likely to seek revenge, if only to soothe his pride.

“I will take heed of your warning then, it’s far more preferable to keep both of us out of unnecessary peril.”

As reckless as Lucifer could be within Mistarcia given the gift of immortality, here he’s stripped of it. The searing pain Arbiter cursed him with - the telltale sign of his double edged immortality - is gone just like every bit of his magic. It’s foreign. Unpleasant.

Still he does make it a point to mention Azazel as well, who can be just as reckless with his life even without having had the sort of reassurance immortality would give someone. If his general got it in his head to start tossing himself at every issue that arose then Lucifer would find himself out of his only ally in this city.

And Azazel would do well to keep that in consideration too.

“Am I correct to assume then that you have nothing else to report on this Belial?”

Lucifer could after all parse other details. If this Belial had issues with the Lucifer of his own world and that was a specific reason to avoid the other entirely. Then the other Lucifer must be from another time and place, a similar appearance would be the only reason explaining such a thing. Its starting to seem like quite the shame that he can’t hold an audience with Chronos or his ilk here. 

But the less the fallen dwells on what he doesn’t have available, the better.

“If so then what of your allies?”

So instead the conversation gets rerouted, just slightly. Especially with the intent to get Azazel to find some other thing to focus on than past slights. The other mans anger is useful in its own ways, but letting him fall victim to it here and now isn’t within the scope of Lucifer’s current interests.

“Do you find any particular worth in them?"

The question itself could easily be described as leading. It’s not as if the fallen angel had any plans to associate himself with whatever forces Azazel managed to drudge up here. Not yet, at least. But if they had any practical uses, then that was completely different.

[duskfeathered-blog]

aonoshoujo‌:

Concern over the other’s well-being is forefront on Lyria’s mind and as such she initially misses the familiar voice with which the stranger speaks to her, misses the apparently nonchalant response the other gives. Instead she busies herself with simply moving the books away, including those still on the top of the pile to prevent another accident.

This person sure had a lot of book in their table!

“Ah…” She can’t help but feel guilty when the fallen brings up how the entire situation came to be. To be frank… “I wanted to reach a book that’s pretty high, but I didn’t want to bother anyone so…” She had jumped goes unsaid, though hopefully implicit enough. “But I’ll be more careful next time!” Meaning she doesn’t quite plan to stop.

It’s only until she’s satisfied with the new order of things, no books on the stranger nor in danger of falling, that the girl finally looks at the other properly. Curiosity overtakes her features as her eyes scan his familiar face, clothes that are vaguely familiar with the addition of horns and mismatched wings. 

“Huh….”

What an entirely nonsensical answer, though expected from a child. At least, as expected as anything coming from a child’s mouth could be, the only way he could have been less surprised is if she’d said she’d been fooling about. However the child seems responsible and apologetic enough so as irate as he could have been with her answer - not that he would have been - Lucifer instead offers exactly one piece of advice:

“You would be better off asking the staff to help you, it is their job after all. You’re quite lucky that nothing serious happened.”

Himself aside, the girl in front of him looked as human as possible and if there was anything he knew about them it was that they were far from durable. But the demon wasn’t here to parent her, if she wanted to try her chances then she should feel free to. Just not around him. 

The fallen is just about to lose himself in his book again once the books are cleared off of him when he catches the budding curiosity on the child’s face. It’s just his luck to attract any sort of attention when Lucifer wanted none of it at all. He taps his fingers idly upon the book in his lap waiting to see if she would leave him be, eventually bothering to look the girl in the eyes when all that happened was continued staring.

“I thought you had your own reading to do, or have you decided to take up gawking at strangers instead?”

[guidinggospel]

If I’M Lucifer and YOU’RE Lucifer then who’s driving the plane?

[duskfeathered-blog]

arbiterofdawn‌:

“Mishandled?” It was a statement with a surprising amount of insight and sound logic, definitely something that Lucifer could consider for a different point of view. “You may be right. When I think on it, perhaps there was a far more sinister reason behind the establishment of such a hierarchy…”

But that was neither here nor there. And as lacking in the ability for casual conversation as Lucifer was (if subject matter like this could even be considered “casual”), Lucifer could at least recognize that the parallel Lucifer wasn’t willing to divulge any further detail about the events that had took place in Mistarcia.

Still, the assertion that Mistarcian fallen angels would only bring misfortune was one that Lucifer couldn’t wrap his head around, given that a certain other Mistarcian fallen angel was currently one of the people he trusted most, would never lift a finger to hurt him, and most certainly had already gone through great pains to keep Lucifer out of misfortune’s path.

“Then I suppose I’ve nothing to fear,” he said, turning back to the shelf and gently removed another book from the shelf to leaf through it. “I cannot imagine that there could be any misfortune worse than what has already befallen me.”

He seemed to decide that, yes, this was a book that he wanted to read, before he closed it and reached for another. 

“And if it is the price I must pay to enjoy reading in the company of another, then so be it. I don’t mind.”

“How bold of you to ignore such a warning so many times.”

Were he another person, another angel, another demon, the tone of his voice might have been chiding. But instead it is little more than a cold statement. It’s almost impressive how much this angel seems inclined to refuse the warning. Seemed to believe in the words being nothing.

Misfortune and misery follow the paths fallen have tread, eager to snatch those once in their path and consume them. There is no benefit to embracing them and their company the love and adoration of demons comes with a cost after all. Even simple association, much less associating with the one who was undoubtedly the worst of the fallen.

And certainly the fates who detest being so willfully challenged would make sure this angel paid in excess.

The gaze Lucifer levels at the other is cold and distant, assessing. He does not welcome company, though less out of care for others but out of a love for solitude. But it’s not hard to see that this mirror of him is determined - foolishly so - to continue staying so close. For that alone, Lucifer can offer no kindness or concern. 

To bring ones own misfortune upon themselves is a level of foolishness that he cannot abide by.

“Whatever benevolence Azazel’s has given you seems to have painted a vastly different idea of our kind and how our existence works. But-” 

A pause, an almost scathing comment on his tongue.

He bites it back.

“-I suppose with how you court danger so freely, you’ll learn soon enough. Do as you will, I will not stop you from your fleeting fancies.”

Lucifer does not reject the others presence further, though there is no welcoming warmth to him either. If they desired company then get it they shall. Whatever befalls the other is none of his concern from here on out. Eventually they will learn, eventually they will leave. There is nothing to gain from associating with him in such a way. There never has been, there never will be.

With that in mind the demon does not wait for the other and with little more than a gesture to a back corner of the library - a spot well secluded - Lucifer takes his leave. Both of the others presence and the conversation at hand, entirely on the assumption the other will understand where to find his little corner of the library if they cared to find him further.

After all he did come here for his own pleasure, not to socialize.

[thanatosbane-blog]

playing house

[duskfeathered-blog]

thanatosbane‌:

Well. That was…a far more mundane explanation than Azazel had been expecting for such an outlandish situation…but as his eyes drifted to the patches of snow still packed between Lucifer’s feathers, he supposed he had no reason to doubt it. Mugaro had apparently deemed it sufficient as well, if his silence was anything to go by–though his cheeks did seem a bit pinker than they had been just a few moments ago. Sheepishness, perhaps?

(Azazel didn’t blame him.)

“… I suppose it is,” Azazel finally sighed. “But Lucifer-sama, he’s not my–”

“Azazel! Can you help me?” Mugaro suddenly cut him off, cheeks puffing out just slightly as he attempted to toss the end of a towel the rest of the way over Lucifer’s other wing–to no avail. “You’re taller, so you can reach certain places better…and it’ll go faster if we work together, too.”

“… Wha–?!”

The unexpectedness of the question clearly took Azazel off-guard, and for several long, agonizing moments, he could do little more than sputter and flounder internally. 

Mugaro…quite obviously didn’t understand what he was asking. How could he? As the saint’s son, he had grown up far away from the angelic and demonic courts–far away from any who could have possibly explained what was and wasn’t considered socially acceptable or appropriate when it concerned another’s wings. Even so, to put Azazel on the spot like that was a bit…–

The demon’s gaze drifted to his superior, eyes uncertain and more than a little apologetic.

“Mugaro. I’m not sure that’s something for me to…–”

If one said that Lucifer tried to hide the smile that listening to Azazel be caught so entirely off guard with such an innocent question, that person would be entirely and unbelievably wrong. In no way does Lucifer make effort to hide any hint of amusement garnered from the child’s blunt question to Azazel’s reaction. He’s just starting to see how in the dark Azazel had left him.

What a surprise, after all what exactly did Azazel have in mind to do with the child after his little rebellion anyways. Surely one couldn’t justify hauling a child around other demons if they didn’t know what was proper and what wasn’t, especially around the highest of ranks. Not that in this case Lucifer quite minded, had anyone else been asked that same question the demon would be much less amused. 

But in this exact moment, he’s not quite feeling up to letting a chance to mercilessly tease his subordinate slip through his fingers.

“I think he’s going to leave you all alone to such a monumental task, child.”

Lucifer’s tone is light, obviously teasing, as he reaches over to help Mugaro with the towel. In reality, if Azazel did reject the task then Lucifer would dismiss the child as well. While he may have more gladly subjected a proper attendant to the job of tending to his wings, Lucifer knew better than to actually inflict it on a child.

“However if it is a matter of consent Azazel, then I take no issue with you touching my wings.”

As... smug as his tone is on the matter, there is more than enough trust behind it. Enough to say the sentence with no hesitation, of all his subordinates Lucifer had entirely unwavering faith in the other and he felt a level of comfort afforded to exactly one other fallen. 

Not that it wasn't at this very moment the perfect means to see just how much he could bother Azazel.

[duskfeathered-blog]

thanatosbane‌:

A vicious kick downed the double once more, his bloodied face meeting concrete with a definitive thud. It took every ounce of self-control Azazel possessed not to flinch.

Lucifer’s copy did not look ‘fine,’ as his superior had so eloquently put it. Rather, between his mangled uppermost pair of wings and his battered body, the angel looked every bit the exact opposite of ‘fine’; and while Azazel did indeed understand the sentiment and logic behind eliminating the double’s ability to flee…as he stared down at him, the demon found himself gripped by the feeling that at least some of the injuries inflicted on the double were in excess–that prolonging his suffering now was…wrong.

It was a strange sensation, to be sure. Azazel, after all, was no stranger to cruelty. He knew all too well the sadistic joy that could be found in subjugating and inflicting pain on others (especially those he counted among his enemies, or as beneath him), and yet…what he witnessed now bordered on intolerable. 

Perhaps it had to do with Lucifer and the copy’s mirrored appearances. Perhaps it was the knowledge that, despite Lucifer’s condemnation of the man as an imposter…he couldn’t truly be called one in the least. These copies, after all, had been borne of them. Alternate versions of themselves, equipped with memories of a world not quite their own, with individual convictions, relationships and connections, desires…false, and yet not. Fabricated…and yet real. Alive. 

The double on the ground was alive. He was Lucifer, just as much as his superior was. Perhaps that–

“If there’s anyone that should be fearing death, shouldn’t it be you?”

Startled, Azazel tore his eyes from the trapped angel to instead meet Lucifer’s chilly stare. What…precisely, was the fallen angel attempting to imply with that remark–?

“Taking your time to chastise me is poor use of it. Shouldn’t you have secured the other Azazel first?”

Ah. Of course that was what he’d meant. That would make more sense than Lucifer threatening murder for his interruption, wouldn’t it–sour mood or not. 

“… It should go without saying that ensuring your safety is my first priority,” Azazel answered, “regardless of whether or not my own is also at stake.

“Having said that…”

The demon’s brow furrowed somewhat, clawed fingers closing gingerly around Lucifer’s arm before giving a small, brief, but pointed tug.

“–… I would like to begin the search for my own copy relatively soon. So once more, Lucifer-sama: that is enough. There’s no need to drag this out any further. Seal him away with your phone as that message instructed and have done with it.”

He doesn’t fight against Azazel’s grasp doesn’t fight against the pointed tug. Despite everything, despite how he seemed every little bit of him is entirely relaxed. Even as Lucifer reaches up and. Carefully. Meticulously. He plucks away every curled finger around his arm. One. By. One. It’s not quite on the level of a warning but there’s a pointed feeling behind the gesture certainly.

“Your concern while appreciated is hardly necessary.”

Certainly there’s truth to Azazel’s statement. He’d drawn out the others punishment quite clearly and after a point it had been for his own enjoyment. But Lucifer is no fool. Not in any of the ways his subordinate seemed to think of him at this moment surely. 

“It raises quite the question though: do you think me incapable of taking care of myself?”

What spurs you on to act like this? The question goes unsaid simply out of the fact that Lucifer himself has no desires to get into that particular debate. If the years have taught him anything about his subordinate, then it is simply that he’d rather bend all ten of his fingers entirely backwards instead of have that sort of conversation with Azazel. 

Something like that would be far easier and much quicker to get through at any rate.

Still Lucifer respects the gesture and concern in some way. the double beneath him heaves a sigh of utmost relief as the demon steps off of him. Though Lucifer keeps some of his attention divided, his double has a too familiar tenacity. There’s little reason to assume even now that the crippled angel wont get up and run for it. It’s unfortunate really that he’s even opening up the chance for them to run even a small distance. 

But what can one do when the other option is to have Azazel of all people even more on his case.

“If that is all the concern you have to voice, then it’s within your best interest to get moving isn’t it? After all if your double perishes then your talk of being concerned for my well-being is going to be for nothing.”

The fallen punctuates the statement with a dismissive wave, both words and action certainly telling in what Lucifer wanted him to do:

And that was to leave him to his own devices and go take care of himself for once.

Truly though if Azazel is so concerned for looking out for him, then meandering about and lecturing his superior is the worst use of his time as already said. But perhaps it needed to be spelled out for him, after all how can Azazel ensure anyone’s safety if he chances dying in such a way.

“I will take care of things on my end you can rest assured of that so now you may take your leave and we will all be better off for it.”

Those words leave him with a definite chill and finality, Lucifer turning his attention back to the angel on the ground. There’s no intention shown anywhere that the demon was going to entertain much of any conversation, determined and convinced that his words were final.

[aonoshoujo]

Visits to the library had become rather frequent lately, with Lyria seeking something new and useful to occupy her time with. New areas had appeared in the island, and Lyria often found that she couldn’t venture too far into them due to the risks; she was alone, after all. The best course of action was to look for some information first!

Libraries were meant to be quiet and peaceful places, and the girl, though sociable, knew that respecting such rules and atmospheres was the right thing. As such, she did her best not to get distracted by the others lingering around the premises, focusing more on her impromptu search for knowledge. 

Still, years of adventure had vaguely warped Lyria’s perception of which situations required her to ask for help, and reaching a book on a high shelf definitely didn’t seem to fit the criteria. She jumps, arm outstretched to try and grab or tilt the book in her direction. 

All was well, until she bumped onto the nearest table after a careless stumble, sending what appeared to be some precariously tall piles of books crashing down… on top of the unfortunate soul that had just been minding their business. Goodbye peace and quiet. “Awawa, I’m sorry!” Despite her attempt, Lyria’s voice is shrill with panic, hands working to remove the books and prevent others from following. “A-are you okay?!”  ♪ @duskfeathered

[duskfeathered-blog]

His first thought as a textbook slams into him is much less of a thought but a deep rooted feeling of longing for his private library where people had to ask to come in and bother him. Far different from a public space allowing him to be able to be disturbed intentionally or no. 

His second thought as several other books smash into him, is that he may as well just not even bother leaving the house if things like this were going to happen.

A third thought - about how if only this could have just killed him instantly and saved him the trouble - starts and stops when whoever knocked his tower over panics. They sound young enough that he should have expected it to be a child, but genuinely apologetic.

Lucifer reaches up and steadies the now leaning tower while the child, a little girl with shockingly blue hair, removes the textbooks and assorted novels.

“This is far less of a problem than you think.”

It’s true, even with all his powers taken Lucifer is still remarkably sturdy. As much as being hit in the head with heavy books is painful, it wouldn’t kill him. Not without extreme effort at least.

“I don’t know how you managed it but perhaps you should be more careful to avoid whatever you were doing in the future.”

“The next person you hit with books may not be as resilient.”