thedevilwhorose: » Nick (before you take command)
Lucifer ([personal profile] thedevilwhorose) wrote in [community profile] abraxaslogs2023-05-02 07:52 pm

I don't trust, but I see right in front of me

Who: Lucifer, others
When: May & June
Where: Thorne, Nott, Nocwich, the Horizon
What: OTA prompts and some closed things
Warnings:
Nocwich with Castiel: Cyfaill-induced Problems.
Nocwich with Istredd: A Lot of Blood, animal death, part harvesting, ???? it's a weird thread




I don't know who to betray.
[Will match style.]
the_keeper: { Neutral } (pic#16421266)

[personal profile] the_keeper 2023-05-15 05:18 am (UTC)(link)
Sabine's first response, along with an expressively rebuffing scrunch of her face, really wants to be no, he isn't, and for all intents and purposes, it almost is. Except. Of course, he isn't. And is. Just like every other weird, warped, pulled-from-everywhere example of the people walking around. So that maybe no, he isn't, and yes, he is, stick together.

"Seriously?" Sabine asks.

Though none of that really matters.
She looks back because she can't get over it.
It's right there, as he holds up a hand to say hey.

Whose Cheerios did this new knockoff!other-brand!Satan piss into so hard he's tied down in every way but being ball gagged?
stations: (78)

[personal profile] stations 2023-05-15 05:39 am (UTC)(link)
It would probably be irrational of him to shush the devil and insist that he doesn't even talk to her, right? They share a faction, they share a hallway, and beyond that, technically... Lucifer is tutoring him. Also, Sabine's her own person and she can decide who she does and doesn't speak to. It would definitely totally completely be overboard of him to try and somehow prevent them from interacting at all.

But. Okay. Admittedly, a deeply worried, rabidly protective piece of him wants to. Genuinely. It takes actual self-control to keep himself from trying (and failing, because he has no discernible skill or physical dexterity) to karate chop Lucifer directly in the throat reflexively after that deadpan hi.

His second impulse is only marginally better, and even harder to quell: the bizarre urge to jump between them and make screeching, cawing bird-noises to drown out all conversation.

Tone it down, Jack. Just. Take a deep breath.

"Yep," he says, pretending like he totally has his chill. "He kind of sucks, but we have an arrangement, so."

Shrug.

It is what it is.