misbhaves:
it was rare that lucien bothered answering the door, even in the rare occasion that someone rang on the doorbell. even rarer when someone decided to knock instead, since his study was far enough from the front door that he was unlikely to hear it. lucky for them, and unlucky for him, he wasn’t working for once. his head was still throbbing from a glass of cognac too many and he still hadn’t managed to muster the motivation for anything other than a mimosa and moving around the house on his segway. his tablet was held within one hand, dr. phil’s shiny bald head staring up at him as he pedantically used his outdated psychiatric credentials to tell some poor degenerate just how terrible they were while the other hand held the aforementioned mimosa and occasionally lifted upward to his mouth so he could take a sip.
so, he happened to be near enough to the door to hear it. it was with a dramatic sigh that he set down his tablet and manouvred toward the door, pressing his finger over the screen by the door. a smirk tugged at his mouth when he saw who was waiting for him at the other end. none other than his ex-wife’s most annoying friend. he brushed a hand over the sleeve of his louis vuitton robe and then reached for the door handle, pulling it open with a cheshire grin on his face.
“good morning, sheriff roosevelt,” he greeted jovially in a candied tone. “i see you’ve found my winter address. i’m starting to think you have a little crush on me.” with that, the segway rotated and carried him further into the house. “door duty, hm? how very cute. have you been demoted, my dear sheriff? i can fix you a drink if you’d like to discuss your woes.”
once the segway reached the counter, he set his own drink down. “a cigar perhaps?” he made a show of yawning, stretching his arms out. “i’ll be honest, i’m very tired, so if you could keep to your word and not take up too much of my time, i would be grateful.”
sometimes, not always but sometimes, hank doubted every detective bone in his body. sometimes he was confronted with such a reality defying knowledge that he had to reconsider everything he knew. sometimes he could not make sense of lucien.
that moment, walking inside his house, moving through the place lucien lived in as he heard the other made light of their current situation, that was one of those times. hank wanted to understand the other man, he wanted to know what the hell went through his mind to lead both of them to their current situation, but every version of reality he flipped through landed him on the same certainty: lucien was on the wrong side of history.
“ no, i, i wanted to come here myself, talk to you. ” talk some sense into him if that was at all possible still at that point. “ can’t drink on duty, sorry. ” not that hank would ever be willing to accept anything he offered either. those who eat or drink anything in the the underworld may never return from it.
“ listen, lucien, i’m not gonna beat around the bush here, what the hell are you doing ? the city looked apocalyptic during those fires. people got hurt in that little stunt of yours, mutants got hurt during it. is that what you want ? that became your goal now ? hurting innocent bystander ? ”














