Mmmm, yeah, I do. [It's a purr, but with an edge that isn't his typical, flirtatious lilt.
His dabbling in his domain has been under the idea of adding an intricate ice-walled cave system where Dersti can slither behind the ice in a lovely haunting fashion. But for now, Lucifer's 'schematics' as they were hadn't been locked into place yet, and she's been circling beneath the ice portion of the lake, a coil in the aurora.
Lucifer doesn't want to play Dean's game because Dean comes with the burning stench of everything he was at one point, and the mirror makes him sick, to the point that it's dizzying that he wanted to exponentially tilt Dean more off the deep-end, make them so damn similar that no one would be able to accept Dean ever again. Make them the same.
Except.
Lucifer has been accepted. All the tar-stain marks through his being, the scorched entity, the monstrosity of his true form and the actions all coupled with it.
They were the same, at one point. They're not now.
He's been crouched this whole while but he unwinds gracefully and stands right in Dean's space. It's possible Dean was actually going to give him an answer, but he's not chancing it. Before Dean can talk or attack, there is a flash of scales and muscle lashing out between them, curling Dean into a constrictive form of the movie-sized anaconda, no longer beneath the ice.
Lucifer looks up at Dean with such open, blatant pity.] But not bad enough to play ball. I'm glad you've gotten a taste of your own--or rather my own--medicine, Dean. All... this. [He pats a hand over his own arm, where the Mark of Cain once rested with a different vessel, but same spot as Dean's.] Come find me, if some speck of your soul ever shines through again and just eats away at your sanity after you've already killed or pushed away everyone else.
[If Dean tries to thrash and attack, the anaconda will tighten her grip. Her head is kept out of range, but she's salivating, waiting for a single reason to consume him whole.]
cw: snake attack
His dabbling in his domain has been under the idea of adding an intricate ice-walled cave system where Dersti can slither behind the ice in a lovely haunting fashion. But for now, Lucifer's 'schematics' as they were hadn't been locked into place yet, and she's been circling beneath the ice portion of the lake, a coil in the aurora.
Lucifer doesn't want to play Dean's game because Dean comes with the burning stench of everything he was at one point, and the mirror makes him sick, to the point that it's dizzying that he wanted to exponentially tilt Dean more off the deep-end, make them so damn similar that no one would be able to accept Dean ever again. Make them the same.
Except.
Lucifer has been accepted. All the tar-stain marks through his being, the scorched entity, the monstrosity of his true form and the actions all coupled with it.
They were the same, at one point. They're not now.
He's been crouched this whole while but he unwinds gracefully and stands right in Dean's space. It's possible Dean was actually going to give him an answer, but he's not chancing it. Before Dean can talk or attack, there is a flash of scales and muscle lashing out between them, curling Dean into a constrictive form of the movie-sized anaconda, no longer beneath the ice.
Lucifer looks up at Dean with such open, blatant pity.] But not bad enough to play ball. I'm glad you've gotten a taste of your own--or rather my own--medicine, Dean. All... this. [He pats a hand over his own arm, where the Mark of Cain once rested with a different vessel, but same spot as Dean's.] Come find me, if some speck of your soul ever shines through again and just eats away at your sanity after you've already killed or pushed away everyone else.
[If Dean tries to thrash and attack, the anaconda will tighten her grip. Her head is kept out of range, but she's salivating, waiting for a single reason to consume him whole.]