“ tell me what you dream of. ” - from nier
Poetry Prompts || Accepting (feel free to turn into threads)!
The gentle rush of water as it fills the delicate cup serves as background noise to the otherwise silent night. It’s only company the soft tap of porcelain clicking together when the steaming mug is set upon a small saucer, and the natural whirl of the ship’s engine as it sails quietly through the night sky. At this hour, much of the crew has retired to their rooms - even those who struggle to sleep usually keep to themselves in the safety of their own walls. He’s typically the same. Having not required sleep to survive for many millennia, he often finds the act of doing so difficult, at least when he’s alone. And his usual worry when the current Supreme Primarch is away makes him all the more restless. He finds the time passes easier when he’s in the cafe making coffee where the scent of almonds and roasted beans and honey clings to the air, and feels his lungs with every breath he takes. Though the space is almost always empty at the hour, he can waste time cleaning and preparing supplies for the following day so he’ll be ready for the orders that will come as the sun begins to rise. Sometimes he rearranges the table, or shifts the chairs about - moves the flowers to different spots, and cleans out the cupboards - only to put everything back exactly how Sandalphon had it before he returns from the mission or errand he had been sent on. It’s a harmless task that occupies his mind, and keeps him busy. He’s grown tired of being left alone with his thoughts after two thousand years of having nothing but them to fill up the space he occupied when he wasn’t engaged in something dire. One grows weary of their own head after such a long time. So, it’s not terribly strange to find him making coffee in the cafe at an odd hour of the night when the one he spends most of his time with is away. It’s more unusual; however, for him to have company.
Company, at least, that doesn’t include the flowers he occasionally strikes up conversations with or the coffee grinder he admired every time he gets the chance to use or the moon that glitters just outside of the window in the back of the cafe that allows glitter and stardust to fill the room to the point where its light alone is enough to prevent the room from falling into utter darkness. He doesn’t know the young man well, but has been told of his circumstances in passing by various other members of the crew attempting to help him return to the world of which he belongs to. And, he knows, as well, that accidental visitors to these skies aren’t the strangest things contained within them - he had fought with other worldly beings for countless years, after all, and seen the rifts that had formed as a result of their meddling. From what he’s overheard from the crew, as well, this is far from the first time they’ve encountered such an unfortunate traveler to have gotten mixed up in one of them. He harbors sympathy for the other - to be pulled away from his loved ones and everything he knows is an uneasy and dreadful feeling. And it’s easy to tell there’s constantly something on his mind, alongside his desire to return back home. So, it had only seemed right to invite him to the cafe for a cup of coffee when he had spotted the other out and about as he had been walking down the hall. At the very least, it would prevent Nier, as he’s come to learn is his name, from being left alone with the anxiety that he imagines is welling up within him for being away from where he wishes he was.
Softly, he sets the saucer and cup down in front of the other where he sits at one of the nearby tables before taking his own cup and sliding, gracefully despite the wings that extend from his back and seem to glow in the moonlight, into the chair across from him. The steam from the freshly brewed coffee warms his skin, and he wraps his hands around the hot cup as he waits for it to cool for just a moment. He’s always believed coffee is best enjoyed when it’s burning hot, even if it means stinging the throat and tongue just a bit. But it’s late enough, at the moment, that he lacks the same willingness to burn his throat on the drink that he would have had it been the middle of the day or first thing in the morning. So, instead, his fingers knead gently against the mug as he watches the smoke rise and then slowly dissipate - the whimsical, willowy tails traveling carelessly through the air. “I hope it is to your liking,” he begins in order to fill in the silence that prevails not that the water is no longer running. He’s always enjoyed conversing with the crew, and with Skydwellers in general, even if the chance to do so was rare. While he is often overly formally, it’s rare for him not to be able to find something to talk about or ask after. And he does his best to ensure the conversation doesn’t travel into unwanted or uncomfortable territory. He doubts the other wants to speak much of his own world, even if he does wish to learn about it, and, so, he doesn’t bring it, or the other’s current situation up in hopes it might help soothe his worries for a short time. Though, when Nier does ask him in a question instead, he’s met with a slightly tilt of Lucifer’s head - brows furrowing ever so faintly as he thinks about it.
“These days,” he pauses for a moment to glance down into the dark liquid of his cup, and takes a sip; savoring the bitter flavor of the coffee, and the heat it gives off. “I find that I have many dreams.” More than he’s ever had before, and more than he had ever imagined he would. The list in his journal only seems to grow with each passing day, and there’s no longer an end in sight. Yet, often, one of the dreams he had added to that list seems to come true, and he’s ever grateful to be where he is now. To have this second chance at life is a blessing, even if he feels unworthy of it, and will likely spend the rest of his existence attempting to find ways to atone for past mistakes. Death, he has since learned, isn’t the atonement he had once thought it would be. So, now, he searches for ways to make things right. Sometimes that comes in the form of doing add chores around the ship or staying up well into the morning with someone who might simply just need someone to speak to. And he can’t begin to claim he believes himself good at anything he’s attempted, but he never gives anything less than his entire core to those he meets. “Some, I imagine, might seem strange. For example, it is a dream of mine to share a cup of coffee with every member of this crew. It is also a dream of mine to one day assist Sandalphon in opening a cafe of his own, and to raise another garden with him. Just as it is also a dream of mine to read all of the books I have been given by Skydwellers on this journey, and to memorize the recipes for all of the new blends of coffee they have come up with in the time since I had first introduced it to them many centuries ago.” He smiles softly at the other, rubbing the handle of his mug. “Sometimes the most worthwhile dreams are the smaller ones we have overlooked in our desire to pursue something larger. Do you have any dreams of such a nature; smaller ones that might seem mundane to most?”
