bigapplesauce | I Thought of Angels, Choking On Their Halos [open]

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I Thought of Angels, Choking On Their Halos [open]

Lucifer falls.

This is old news for everyone involved. He fell from Grace, he fell from Heaven, and after the so long awaited confrontation in Stull Cemetery, he and his once-beloved brother and the promise of violence, he fell back into the Cage in the body of Sam Winchester.

Now, when he falls, he feels a shift around him like the universe cracking open at the seams; there is the smell of ozone and a lightning-snap that’s louder than even Sam’s fearful internal monologue, louder than the terror that pounds his frantic mortal heart at the sight of Perdition yawning wide beneath him. He is yanked sideways, sudden lateral movement that would be dizzying if he had a center of balance to upset, a rip-tide pulling him in and down and through the rabbit-hole, shadow-thin and darkling deep.

The body that is supposed to be his—that has had his name written over and across and around every fiber of its being since its conception—is suddenly far away, and he is wrapped in the old, familiar skin of a vessel he’d left dying in Detroit, flesh given freely rather than claimed by divine right. And then he is a streak in the sky that hits water and sinks like a stone.

Under the water, cold and getting colder from the seed crystal that is his freezing Grace in its mortal house, he can feel the vast emptiness where Heaven should be above him and isn’t; the universe is silent and it is deafening, a tinnitus ring where there should be angels’ voices. Lucifer grabs two fistfuls of space-time and pulls, moving himself from under the water to standing in the shallows at the bank, and behind him the lake’s surface is already frozen over thick like it’s the dead of winter. The water around his feet is sluggish and barely liquid, filmed over top with a thin frozen layer that breaks and flows around his ankles.

Someone approaches him with a towel, and there is no Hell below him and above him only sky, and he makes no reply; he banishes the water from his clothes with a thought before he puts his fist right through the man’s chest.

[[ooc: So this is going to be the hottest of messes; see mod comment for post instructions and fun stuff like that.]]

[[TW: gore, major character death.]]

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"Wait, what?" Johnny staggers back at the shove. The information doesn't quite hit him; hell, he's still getting used to the idea of Gabe being a freaking archangel. He's not ready to accept Lucifer the devil coming here. That's fucking incomprehensible. Some small part of him wonders for a second if this is some drastically unfunny joke, like the even more fucked up cousin of the whole Godzilla thing. But he knows Gabe wouldn't go this far, wouldn't do this to him, all that fear and panic and visible stress. It scares Johnny to see it.

Yarrow is twitching frantically in his arms, and Johnny presses him gently to his heart, shushing him softly before saying, "I'm not leaving you."

He doesn't even know why he says it. It's stupid and stubborn and it's not like he can do anything and he knows Gabe isn't going to be swayed. But to just turn around and leave would feel fucking terrible. Not after everything they've just been through. Not after that.

Edited 2014-09-07 07:38 (UTC)

There is the sound of wing beats and Lucifer is there, standing a few feet away from Gabriel with his vessel still soaked in gore. Perhaps he should've cleaned himself before coming into his brother's house, but he is more focused on finding Gabriel than he is on the cleanliness of his host.

"Gabriel."

There are three animals in the room with them, and the Devil ignores them all.

"You're looking more alive than I expected." He tilts his head, a curious little bird-like gesture. "And injured."

Gabriel sets Scout down as Lucifer appears in the room. It's too late to get him out of the apartment, but thankfully a well-placed command sends him out of the room. Johnny isn't as easy to lead. He just wants him out of here, out of New York, but since that's not possible, he'll have to keep Lucifer distracted enough that he stays safe.

He stands a little taller, and steps away from Johnny, bringing Lucifer's line of sight elsewhere. When he mentions that he's injured, Gabriel rolls his shoulders back, adjusting his invisible wings closer to his body. As he is now, he definitely couldn't take his brother in a physical fight even if he wanted to.

"Hey, bro. You're looking...homicidal." There's definitely more than one person's blood there. How many people had he killed before flying here? "Is red the new color for summer? It's not doing you any favors."

The moment he appears, Johnny takes a sharp step back. It's not just the blood and the viscera - although, fuck - it's everything. He radiates cruelty and terrifying, pure power. Johnny feels a little nauseated, and too scared to speak, holding Yarrow as tightly as he can without hurting the rabbit, keeping him turned away. Yarrow is breathing quickly, frozen, not looking.

He angles slowly, barely conscious of his own movements, toward the door. He doesn't want to leave, but he doesn't want to be here, either. He wants to get Yarrow somewhere safe, and maybe curl up somewhere small and dark.

Never quite able to take his eyes off the two of them, feeling a cold clench in his gut as he prepares to abandon Gabriel, he reaches for the handle.

Lucifer keeps his eyes on Gabriel, but it isn't so hard to tell that his dear brother wants the human away from him. He doesn't look over even as the boy starts to head for the door.

"Oh, this? It was nothing-- only a few humans."

He says it easily, like he's talking about the weather. Cloudy with a 100% chance of terror and bloodshed.

Before Johnny's hand can close around the door handle, the lock clicks ominously shut and the metal knob goes suddenly, burningly cold; so cold that there's frost on it and just touching it would be a good way to lose some skin.

"Now, brother, there's no need to send your pets away. I don't mind them, so long as they're well behaved." He looks over at the pets in question, a pointed glance. "And quiet."

Edited 2014-09-07 08:28 (UTC)

Gabriel knows that he can't teleport Johnny out of the room from here, but he tries desperately to anyway. Johnny stays where he is, but the rabbit in his arms disappears. Gabriel blinks in surprise, then finds the rabbit again. Somehow, he'd sent it to join Scout in the bedroom.

But he doesn't have time to dwell on whether or not his powers are somehow changing. He looks back at Johnny when Lucifer does, hoping that for his own sake he won't try to interfere and get killed for it. This entire situation is a powder keg waiting to explode.

When Lucifer turns back, he focuses all of his attention on him. He's not really sure yet what his game-plan is. Distraction and escape isn't really an option here, and he can't see the way to placating the bastard. "The rift brought you here. And you're gonna be stuck here- so would you chill the fuck out?" He waves a hand at Lucifer's blood drenched clothing. "What's the point of that, a hissy-fit? You're dripping blood all over my floor."

"Gabe," blurts Johnny, terrified, his hand jerking away from the suddenly icy knob, but Lucifer seizes his attention and he falls immediately silent. He doesn't have the wherewithal even to feel riled at being referred to as a pet. He can only stare with cold dread at the apparent Devil. His extremities are numb - distantly he realizes he is panicking. It's a relief when Gabriel removes Yarrow from his arms - he trusts to somewhere safe. He lets his hands drop to his sides.

Gabriel's attitude doesn't seem to make sense. The scornful jokes and bear-baiting - it's absurd. Like he's trying to get a reaction. But it smacks of familiarity, habits that can't be rubbed out. Very much like brothers.

Johnny sinks back against the wall, breathing slowly. He wonders if he could force the door open, if his power is enough to override an act of the Devil. Probably shouldn't try it. Just have to wait here and fucking pray.

Lucifer's attention, thankfully for Johnny, is quickly turned from him; he is just one little human cowering in a corner, after all. He is as important to the Devil as the furniture in the room or the rabbit that Gabriel just sent away. And being unimportant to the Devil is probably a key component to longevity nowadays.

He doesn't much care for Gabriel's tone-- he used to be so much more respectful, once upon a time-- but he is not here to fight his brother. Not now, when there is no apocalypse and true vessels to put them at odds with each other.

"I am wrathful and they were there. Don't pretend that we've ever needed any other reason, Gabriel."

Angels had slaughtered humans for reasons as simple as those for thousands of years. Gabriel himself, as the trickster, had arguably done the same for reasons that were roughly the same, just wrapped up in a different package.

"Hypocrisy doesn't become you."

"It's not our place, here." He turns his back, then moves to sit on the arm of the couch, deliberately situating himself lower. Symbolically, it makes him vulnerable and lesser, so that Lucifer might feel like this argument is less of an attack and more of a conversation. It's not much, but it's what he can do at the moment. "Heaven's not here. Or hell. You're not sending those souls anywhere."

He cringes suddenly, gripping onto the side of the couch as the TARDIS' prayer echoes against his skull. God, he hopes that she doesn't try to come here. This situation is delicate enough already without throwing her into it. He wants her where she is, and safe. He only wishes that he could call her and tell her not to worry about him before she decides to take matters into her own hands.

He knows that the cringe was more than visible, so he plays it off as an effect of his injury, sliding out his recently mended wing then bringing it back as if testing it for pain. "You can't get out. Believe me, I've tried." There's no sadness in his voice when he says it, no suggestion that his jump into the rift was anything but an escape attempt. Lucifer doesn't need to know the truth about that. "And if I'm stuck here I'd rather it be, y'know, pleasant. Not..." He gestures vaguely in Lucifer's direction. "hell on Earth."

Edited 2014-09-07 21:23 (UTC)

Lucifer moves to stand directly in front of Gabriel, a few feet away from where he sits.

"No one tells us our place. It is whatever we dictate it to be."

He watches, with perhaps more care than is due, as Gabriel stretches his injured wing as though it pains him; the fact that his brother has been harmed is a matter of concern. It would be prudent to know if there is someone here capable of injuring an archangel, of course, but it's mostly because no one hurts Lucifer's brothers but him.

"So you tried to fly back through?" An exasperated expression twists his face; that explains the injuries. "You can't be taught, can you?"

Always reckless, Gabriel.

The expression of concern doesn't impress Gabriel at all. Even if it's genuine, Lucifer has long since lost any right to act as if he's a loving brother. If anything, it makes Gabriel feel angry that Lucifer feels like he can still play the older brother after trying to kill him.

"What's your plan here, big brother?" He doubts that there is a plan at the moment. Or if there is, it involves a lot of mindless killing and not much else. Lucifer should know by now that a way back isn't going to be easy.

Lucifer is a touch homicidal, Gabriel abandoned them for the pagans, and Michael is a dick. Let's just say that they're all terrible at being loving brothers and leave it at that. ~~Someone should sign them up for some serious relationship counseling.~~

"Considering that it's been all of an hour since the last big plan fell through-- thank you for that, by the way-- let's just call this next one a work in progress."

He hasn't gotten around to it yet, okay? He was just falling into the Pit, wearing Sam Winchester, thank you, and then he gets plucked off and dunked into a lake in Manhattan, wearing the vessel equivalent of the old, ratty clothes he thought he threw out. These things do not a happy Satan make. So he spent some time blowing off a little steam-- it's not like Gabriel has much room to talk in those regards.

"Wait, an hour? Hoo boy are you behind the times. I mean, I know I'm behind the times but you are waaaay behind the times." Gabriel shrugs up his shoulders. "It's been years for me. Not as long in this universe, but it's starting to feel homey." And that's, oddly enough for Gabriel, completely true. He doesn't risk a glance towards Johnny, but it's the people he's got surrounding him here that make him feel like maybe he could stay for good.

Lucifer being behind the times also means that he doesn't knoe about all of the angels falling, though that's the last thing Gabriel wants to bring up now. "Glad I could help with the whole 'stuck in the Cage' thing, but it looks like it didn't take."

"If you want to be accurate, I never made it all the way in. Sam and I were en route downstairs when I left."

He was pulled into another universe right at the moment of his great defeat. Some might call that lucky; if he can make it back to his universe but not in the same place, he might be able to avoid the Cage altogether.

"So, I suppose the jury's still out on that ending. We'll see when I get back."

Not if, but when, because he's the goddamn Devil and there's nothing he can't do with sufficient effort and the power of several millennia's worth of seething rage.

"Think you can get back through?" If Lucifer is looking for reasons not to try getting back through the rift, he's got some pretty compelling evidence sitting in front of him. Gabriel's convinced now that it would take the rift deciding it didn't want someone around anymore before they could make it back through.

"Luci, as much as I'd love to see ya try, it's not gonna happen."

Johnny can barely keep up with them. Lucifer casually implied Gabriel used to wrath-murder people, there's some shit going down about Cages and Hell and some guy called Sam, Lucifer thinks he can get back through the Rift. For a really terrible moment he wonders why Gabe isn't just encouraging him to try.

He wants to get out of here. His limbs ache from the tension of keeping still, playing dead. He feels lightheaded. He can't stand here watching this much longer, feeling like something's about to go off.

Without fully realizing he's been tilting, his back suddenly strikes the wall. He lets himself halfway collapse against it, his eyes darting nervously from Gabe to his brother, the literal Devil. That... that might be worse that Kyrie's insane murderous boyfriend? Yeah this is worse.

He pins himself against the wall, propping himself up, and thinking maybe if he's quiet enough he can just sink right through it and no one will notice.

"Not all of us are hammers, brother."

He didn't say that he was planning to shove his way through the rift like a ~~suicidal~~ idiot; there are other ways to cross between universes, and even had he not seen the shape that Gabriel is in, he would've considered other options long before the brute-force method. And now that he has seen what trying to shove your way through can do? No, thank you. He doesn't want any of that.

He turns then and takes a few steps toward the terrified human in the room-- slightly stiff, something a little odd in his gait, because those wounds are going to need special attention that he hasn't had time to give them yet-- and regards him like he's some curious specie of butterfly. First it was a pagan whore, now a human; little brother has terrible taste in sexual partners. Big brother Lucifer does not at all approve.

"Besides, do you really want to play house here with your pets forever? Stuck on a few measly square miles of island? Neither of us is in the Cage right now, Gabriel, but you can't deny that this is just another prison."

The idea of Lucifer being some sort of precision instrument is ridiculous to Gabriel. Maybe he had been once, but now he's anything but. He's about to say something to that effect when Lucifer takes a step towards Johnny.

He's on his feet immediately. He doesn't want Johnny hurt, doesn't want that to be how he repays Johnny for what he's done for him. "Do you even know what's going on back home?" He glances at Johnny, hoping to reassure him even just a little before turning to stop Lucifer from walking any further in that direction. Something seems...off, about Lucifer, but he doesn't have time to stop talking to figure it out. "They all fell. Every angel in heaven is dead, and there's just you, me and Michael left outside. So maybe I would like to stay here. With my friends." As he talks and tries to distract away from Johnny, he takes a step closer.

With a sudden realization, Gabriel knows what's off about his brother. From here, he can sense the slow drain of Grace that must be coming from a serious wound. A wound that a human couldn't have made. He pauses and reaches out his hand, pushing aside Lucifer's jacket. "What happened to you?"

Oh shit, oh fuck. So much for that. Johnny tenses right back up as Lucifer takes a step toward him, his throat suddenly dry. Gabe's between them almost just as fast, throwing him a quick glance that does a little to calm him, but only a little. He can only keep perfectly fucking still and hope that Lucifer is distracted enough by that fucking bombshell that he'll go back to being part of the wallpaper.

Deep breaths, Johnny. Gabe won't let anything happen to you. He repeats this to himself, over and over, hoping desperately that it is true.

Lucifer grabs Gabriel's hand by the wrist, pulling it away from his blood-soaked clothing and the wound in his stomach. He has tried to staunch the flow of Grace, to hide the injury until he could properly tend to it, but he has been deeply cut by Aziraphale's blade. Stabbed right to the quick.

Every other part of him, though, is stock-still, because Gabriel has just dropped a bomb on the Devil's unsuspecting head, and it's the equivalent of a Fatman nuke. Johnny is forgotten again, because these matters of family are several orders of magnitude more important than whatever Gabriel's getting his mortal jollies with, and the very idea that the entirety of Heaven has fallen leaves even Satan stunned.

"You're mistaken, Gabriel."

It cannot be true. He refuses to believe that Heaven is now an empty house, that all of his brothers and sisters have been cast out and died in the Fall, that their universe only contains two feuding archangels in a box and one in hiding. Their Father would have never allowed this. He may have allowed many things, He may have turned His back on them long ago, but surely, surely if anything would have brought Him back, it would have been the genocide of His first children.

And if it is true, if the worst has really come to pass and their Father has really abandoned them so completely, than there is a responsible party and there are not words in any language for the terrible things Lucifer would visit upon them. The most gruesome torture in the deepest, most desolate corner of Hell would not be able to compare even in part to the ways Lucifer would make them suffer.

"Heaven doesn't just get closed for business. Even if Michael is imprisoned, Raphael wouldn't allow things to progress that far."

The grip on his wrist is too tight to twist his hand and grip Lucifer's wrist in return, but Gabriel allows it to stay there. It gives him a reason to stay closer and get a better handle on just how injured his brother is. The answer seems to be very injured. Otherwise, he wouldn't still be bleeding Grace like he is.

The mention of Raphael makes Gabriel's shoulders slump. Of course, Lucifer wouldn't have known about Raphael, or Balthazar, or any of the rest that died before the Fall. "Raphael is dead."

Edited 2014-09-13 21:25 (UTC)

His hand tightens around Gabriel's wrist a fraction, and it's the only thing that gives away how startled he is to learn of Raphael's death. There are few things with the power to kill an archangel, fewer still when you factor out the other archangels-- neither he nor Michael could have done it, and neither would Gabriel-- and what among those could have possibly reached their youngest brother?

"How?"

He assumes that Gabriel has either witnessed these events firsthand or has received knowledge of them from a reliable source; he's neither stupid nor gullible, and wouldn't trust this kind of disastrous news from just anyone. Something back home has gone very, very wrong. The Winchesters tore up the old script when they derailed the Apocalypse and apparently have replaced it with some greater tragedy.

The yawning emptiness above them where Heaven should be and isn't in this universe is aching enough; for it to be mirrored in theirs, where it isn't just missing but stands abandoned, would be worse.

"How could this have happened?"

Johnny can't look at Lucifer's face, so his gaze settles on the hand gripping Gabriel's wrist, feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of it - Gabe is still acting like he has the situation in hand, but Lucifer is taller and more intense in every possible fucking way, and the line of questioning is taking progressively weird and alarming turns, and Johnny is suddenly overcome with dread and conviction that he's about to see Gabe get his hand snapped off, or something equally terrible. Lucifer is - angry, or something, difficult to put a name to it, whatever it is, he's obviously not stable. Anything could happen here, and Johnny would be wholly fucking powerless to stop it.

Distantly he knows he's panicking, body and rational thought pretty well divorced from one another, rapidly losing the capacity to make informed decisions. Or any decisions at all. But rising above all that is an urge and an instinct, far harder to ignore, which is he just wants Lucifer to get his hands off Gabriel. Right now.

He sees the grip tighten and his body moves on autopilot, stepping forward, grabbing Gabe's shoulder.

"Please-" he starts to say, but it comes out on a breath and dies in his throat. There's nothing he can say, he shouldn't have said anything, shouldn't have moved. He digs his fingers desperately into Gabe's shirt, his eyes staring widely at the floor, sort of subconsciously keeping his head bowed to Satan. Oh fuck, oh fuck.

Like a predator or a very pissed-off bovine, Lucifer's attention is drawn to movement; in this case, Johnny's spectacularly terrible decision of going over and touching his brother. His injured brother, who he had thought was dead up until today, who is apparently one of only two other archangels still left alive. Emphasis on his.

Lucifer does not share well.

Lucifer especially does not share well with humans, those wretched little blights on the universe, whose very existence precipitated all the painful, miserable things that have happened to his family.

He lashes out with his Grace-- he's still bleeding, and using it while his wounds are open just causes him to hemorrhage more, but he doesn't care-- to push the boy away, hard enough to send him flying into a wall.

Gabriel goes into high alert as Johnny approaches, hoping to everything that he's not stupid and panicked enough to try arguing with Lucifer. What he actually does isn't much better. Lucifer's reaction is predictable, but that doesn't stop the feeling of dread when Johnny is flung across the room.

He wrenches his wrist away from his brother and turns back enough to check that Johnny is alive and not seriously injured. It's a relief when he sees him breathing and feels him still conscious, but that doesn't stop him from being angry about Lucifer acting this way. "What is your problem?"

The greater flow of Grace is evident a moment later, and Gabriel's gaze drops to the wound that is even more noticeable than before. "You're such a big fucking baby, look at you." He reaches out a hand as if to stop the flow, but pulls back at the last moment. "You're hurting yourself to fling my friend across the room."

Edited 2014-09-14 00:30 (UTC)

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