It's maybe the itch that sets him off. That he's been ignoring, pushing down, assuming whatever alive part of the Singularity is shoving down their throats, encouraging them rudely towards the Horizon when Lucifer could care less.
It's maybe the silence in his head. A connection that won't reestablish. Can't reestablish, he assumes.
It's maybe that there's blood rapidly cooling and sticky on his hands, a knife slipped from his grip into the unmoving body below him.
It's maybe, simply, the one word. Don't. Kyle becomes less a person that Lucifer has in fact put heavy reliance on, increasing since the negotiations trip, and more a roadblock. Just a shadow in his way. He does not see him, just as he barely saw the first acolyte.
Only a target. Something to cut through. And Lucifer? Lucifer goes for the throat.
The remaining acolyte takes what little seconds he has, looking to his partner, then scrambling across snow, crawling, bolting back to his feet and moving off in the direction that had initially caught their attention, whether or not intentionally or just sheer terror in needing to get away.
It's hardly a concern to Lucifer, he'll be able to close distance to him just as easily as he does with Kyle.
"Don't?" he replies, Kyle pressed so suddenly into a tree, Lucifer's bloodied hand tight around his throat. "Why the hell not?" His gaze is, shockingly, pained. Open. He pulls the dagger free from his back, reflecting the glare of the surrounding white. Playing with it in a loose grip. Unpredictable. "There's no value to them! You really expect them to hold any information?! They're just bodies same as we are to Thorne!"
no subject
It's maybe the silence in his head. A connection that won't reestablish. Can't reestablish, he assumes.
It's maybe that there's blood rapidly cooling and sticky on his hands, a knife slipped from his grip into the unmoving body below him.
It's maybe, simply, the one word. Don't. Kyle becomes less a person that Lucifer has in fact put heavy reliance on, increasing since the negotiations trip, and more a roadblock. Just a shadow in his way. He does not see him, just as he barely saw the first acolyte.
Only a target. Something to cut through. And Lucifer? Lucifer goes for the throat.
The remaining acolyte takes what little seconds he has, looking to his partner, then scrambling across snow, crawling, bolting back to his feet and moving off in the direction that had initially caught their attention, whether or not intentionally or just sheer terror in needing to get away.
It's hardly a concern to Lucifer, he'll be able to close distance to him just as easily as he does with Kyle.
"Don't?" he replies, Kyle pressed so suddenly into a tree, Lucifer's bloodied hand tight around his throat. "Why the hell not?" His gaze is, shockingly, pained. Open. He pulls the dagger free from his back, reflecting the glare of the surrounding white. Playing with it in a loose grip. Unpredictable. "There's no value to them! You really expect them to hold any information?! They're just bodies same as we are to Thorne!"