abraxaslogs | Rewriting history with the stories we tell

Lucifer stretches exaggeratedly and pats at his side that previously held one of his injuries. On most people that might pull something open and star bleeding, but he looks only like a pleased cat.

All present and accounted for.

He drops his arms.

What he does at home includes plotting revenge and long-term Apocalypses and then just unbridled chaos.

It's almost like he didn't get out much.

Ha. Ha.

"You could say that." He crouches down and draws through faint dust, considering to himself how much worth it would be to implement it or the more complex sigils into Thorne's wards. But this dust doodle is the more simple than what he has in mind. "My world has sigils specific for blocking out certain... kinds of beings. More common than, say, a barrier to keep out any-and-all. But even Thorne's is likely incomplete."

The full array of wards wouldn't protect him from Michael, and he hardly needs the protection from Castiel, but maybe if there were any similar lesser celestial entities that were native to Abraxas...

Istredd raises his eyebrows at him patting himself like that and smiles faintly, caught out by Lucifer's strange sort of humor. Or not even humor, his way of being. He takes a look at the symbol when he draws it, curious; it is a simple image, almost too much so. But sometimes the most powerful ones ended up being simple.

"Interesting." Istredd tilts his head at him and copies the symbol into the air nearby. It's not a ward, it's an illusion, drawn almost like fire but no heat comes from it. It's all a visual.

"Now how much of this," he points at it, "is about stopping that?" He points to where Lucifer's injury was before. Istredd may be a scholar lost in his books, but that's because he is very, very smart. And far more in tune with things than he might appear at times.

His shoulders tense. Ah.

"'This'," he says, brushing his hand over the dust and erasing the symbol, "can't protect me. Nothing can protect me without too harming myself." It might be worth it though. What's a little extra when he's already so diminished?

"Though I might still put it up where it matters most," he admits. That and maybe some demon warding, just because. Last thing he needs is finding out his irritating hellspawn have been pulled into Abraxas.

This can't protect me. Well that's a little worrisome. Not for Istredd's health, he is genuinely concerned for Lucifer's. He is the one who showed up bloody and damaged, after all, and people are still out there who attacked him. He turns his eyes to the symbol.

"You mean in our room." Again, he's smart. That is the only place that Lucifer is vulnerable, it's why he dragged himself there when he was injured. "Are you concerned? Because I can add my own wards, or reinforce this one for you." Istredd has already proven that reinforcing wards or adding his own is pretty easy for him. These types of things are learned early on.

He nods in response about their room and rubs a hand over his face before glancing at Istredd from the corner of his eye.

"Concerned? No."

Because it isn't that. As much as Thorne might be the last place he'd prefer to be, freedom stifled, most of his enemies from another faction aren't going to get in. And he doesn't think he's caused enough of a stink with the others in Thorne to come try and stab him in his sleep--nor would any of them be a threat.

It's Michael. It's always Michael. Yet he doesn't think that bargain-bin brother knows he's here; he's certain Wanda wouldn't have revealed him.

It's the quiet from Solvunn that worries him. Lucifer wouldn't expect Michael to play the long game. So why? What is Lucifer missing?

"It's like Thorne," he continues, clapping his hands together once and pressing his palms in tight, "and their infinite paranoia. Trust issues and waiting for something to happen that might never be a problem."

He tilts his head. "What are your wards?"

"I don't know if you know this, but paranoia is a pretty extreme form of concern." Istredd says this with infinite dryness because Lucifer seems to really want him to believe that there isn't a cause for concern, when he is proving otherwise. He doesn't know why exactly, but it's fine, he's just going to be a little sassy about it. It happens, sometimes, when he's otherwise very serious.

"Barrier wards, psychic wards, defensive wards, illusionary wards. I haven't shared them with everyone here, but our room would be a different situation." It's not that Istredd would mind sharing it, it's more that they don't have the exact copy of it in their books. His magic is natural, it is not from a book, so he can't translate every one of them.

He can, however, put them where he wants them. He just hasn't bothered without being distinctly asked. "You roomed with a powerful psionics mage, you know. You lucked out." Again, dry.

There's the faintest of bristle in Lucifer's posture and he silently mouths the words 'I don't know if you know this' a bit petulantly back.

(He's not sure if he's the oldest of the Thorne Summoned, but he's definitely not the adult of the group.)

But he checks back into the conversation despite how he very much wants to continue to argue that he is not concerned, paranoia is different, that is absolutely not what is going on, Istredd is crazy.

"Concern" is for dumb stringy little humans that think the weather is going to be bad or "oh no our lives are over" or whatever needless, pathetic things they prayed to his Father about.

Lucifer is not concerned.

And then he files all the different wards away in his head--which sound quite lovely for his unconcerned self--and asks, "Psionics?" Not the kind of tone that signifies confusion. The kind that's dangerous, a trill of warning.

Few people can root around in Lucifer's mind and his Xeroxed brother, off along in Solvunn, and the primary reason for all of... this, is the last person who did it.

Istredd just raises an eyebrow at him with that petulant response. He said what he said. Concern is for anyone who could be stabbed and crawled bleeding into a bed, thanks. He is certain Lucifer is concerned, as he should be, but he won't belabor the point too much.

"Yes, did I not mention that was my magical leaning?" Istredd pauses as he considers it and shrugs. "Probably not, I don't really use it. The only telepathy I do is with Wanda from Solvunn." And that's because she is a telepath too so the two of them have enjoyed being in each other's presences and not having to talk out loud. It feels more natural, he'll admit that much, when they're together. And in the Horizon it's been even more so.

He didn't hear the warning in the tone, he seems genuinely unconcerned. "But I'm fine with putting mental wards on the room if you like."

Another person that he knows that also knows Wanda. Interesting.

He knows she's a telepath only from the two words she shot into his head on the beach in his domain, when they were both too twisted up with emotion.

He doesn't know that she was skimming his thoughts while they were at Lunar Pond but he's not sure it would have mattered to him if he did know. She might even be the only one he would allow.

"If you try to dig around in my head," Lucifer starts, the warning even more pronounced than it was before, but then he stops.

The sentence should have finished simply with: I'll kill you. It doesn't. He scowls a bit and glances away, straightening finally from his crouch and shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. There is a thick, cool, excessive feral energy about him, but it's more contained than it ever would be in most cases.

"Just don't," he finishes moodily. He further tapers down his mood. Controlled. There was an offer in Istredd's words that Lucifer had tossed out to focus on the Obvious Problem. "Mental and Defensive wards would be good," he allows, voice thick.

Istredd looks genuinely concerned, not at the thread that is for certain about to be leveled his way, it wouldn't be the first time, but that his roommate seems very troubled about this. It doesn't take a psychic to know that. It seems obvious too, that most people don't want someone in their head, that being a telepath is something that should be conveyed to strangers, whether he uses it or not.

"I wouldn't, Lucifer, not without asking. I should have told you, I'm sorry." It is one of those things that he doesn't even think about. Istredd could read everyone's minds that aren't shielded. He could read their thoughts, experience their feelings, share his own, but it simply never occurs to him unless there's trouble. Sometimes he can't help it, it depends on how loud people are being. When the queen attacked Libertas, there was a lot of noise, but he has very strong mental shields.

He studies his roommate for a moment. "I can do that, I can create an automatic illusion spell too, so if someone gets through the other wards, they'll see what we want them to see long enough to react." Istredd is very helpful when it comes to defensive maneuvering. "But I understand if this new information makes you uncomfortable living with me."

Of course he wouldn't. Lucifer in a way does know that. What did Kyle say? That Istredd seems like a good man. And regardless, Lucifer sincerely doubts that the man is strong enough to tap through Lucifer's own defenses.

But maybe that's a difference between worlds. Between angels and monsters and everything else that went bump in the night. A difference between them in general. Because even Lucifer, at the peak up his power, had no problem digging around in the heads of others, surgical in the way that he searched for what made people tick, what he could use. No questions asked. He was a higher power; he was allowed wherever he wanted, the mind of other's included.

Had he been able to do it still he would have done it to everyone he met here, no bars held.

He never was one to offer the same respect that people should offer him.

Except that's--

Lessened, to a degree, as of late. For some.

He shakes his head. Waves away Istredd's worry like it was nothing. His restless energy fades back to something more normal. "It caught me by surprise, that's all." He folds his arms, the only sign that there still remains some tension, but not much. "There's work to be done, yes? For Thorne, not us."

"No, you were right to be annoyed. That is definitely something I should have mentioned, with us living together and being friendly." Istredd genuinely spent most of his time alone or with people that he didn't have to be very forthright with. And when he was with his fellow mages, obviously everyone knew what other people could do, so that sort of honesty was not required.

"So for the record, my magic leaning is in psionics, mind magic. Telepathy, telempathy, telekinesis, and illusions." All of Istredd's power is wrapped up with the mind, one way or the other. If nothing else, he can be helpful to Lucifer, another layer of protection to any mentally sneaky people he might know.

He nearly throws out by the way, I'm an archangel. He doesn't. And anyway, that impact doesn't hold up to many around here. It's good, he supposes. It gives him the anonymity he craves.

He just sometimes misses when his identity packed a punch.

What can he say? He's a guy that wants everything. Gets it from good ol' Dad.

"My magic's antiquated," he says instead. He snaps and holds up a small plume of flame. "And it doesn't have the juice it needs." Which further explains the state Istredd found him in. The flame flicks out as he drops his hand. "You could say I'm learning some new ropes. But warding... that's something I can do." He squints up at the sky, contemplative, and says much, much lower, "And something I'm interested to eventually pick apart here."

In case he ever gets the chance to bring it all down.

Archangel would mean nothing to Istredd, there is no real equivalent in his world. Lucifer would have to explain, although he's gotten some clues that he isn't all he seems. Those wounds he had would have killed a normal person, possibly, and he refused to go to a real healer, and they healed very quickly comparatively. What are you? is too impolite to ask. Even Istredd has some niceties trained into him.

"There is no better place to learn new magic than one drowning in it. The amount of magical energy in the air is overwhelming." He genuinely sounds wistful. They wield incredible power themselves as mages in his world, but it is harder to find, harder to draw upon. It takes enormous control and strength of will. He can speak a spell here and it immediately works. All of his own magic feels stronger, especially when he is in the Horizon. These people have no idea how lucky they are.

"I will say I am still adjusting to being so confined here. We mages can teleport anywhere, typically." Istredd is not someone who is comfortable in a cage. His freedom back home was important.

It's been a bit since he's filed away knowledge from Istredd. This is different--a personal point about Istredd himself, and something that Lucifer can later work with when he's ready to move on from Thorne. Even if Istredd may disapprove of whatever methods Lucifer goes with, well, if freedom is involved...

Lucifer can't afford to lose allies; he knows this for a fact, and it's never mattered much before Abraxas. He could always find new people that wanted to step up to the plate and serve him.

It was harder here. Everything and everyone were Works In Progresses. Throwing it all in the trash after he gets anywhere is just a waste.

(He thinks about his Father and the drafted multiple worlds and if he looks like he's suddenly choking on nothing for a moment, Istredd better not ask.)

"I should be able to move freely," he says, leaving out the method, "I can't make it far though." Not to mention that it hurts, but that's Lucifer's own falling, not Thorne's influence. "But I don't do well under lock and key."

Understatement of the Year Award goes to...

"I'd say I'm surprised anyone does, but I'm not. There are many mages who feel better in the confining spaces of our home or the courts they were assigned to."

They do have more freedom than this place, though, even the ones who like the gilded cages they found themselves in. They can travel and work their magic and occasionally see one another. Or come when called. Even Istredd comes when he's called, like it or not.

"I was rare in having the amount of freedom I did. I was never going to be a courtier, and so they left me to my books and research."

They did want to know what happened with his studies. Stregobor may not have gotten a true protege out of him, but as cruel as the man could be, he did see everyone as useful. And he wanted answers from Istredd, especially anything that could be useful to him. Except he stopped listening the moment it was no longer in his interest. Typical.

"I've never cared about politics and I'm not going to start now. But the mages here seem to be the best bet at getting to the Singularity. I wouldn't know how to deal with somewhere like Free Cities, who apparently believes destroying it is the answer."

He isn't going to talk about his own Cage. The only reason Wanda knows is because of the nightmares, and while that has worked out for him in regards to her, he's not about to lament about his life story. It gets him nothing in return but sympathy and that's worse.

But Lucifer doesn't think Istredd's studies in the big dumb rock are stupid, so his response is emphatic.

"Right!" Lucifer crows. "It's an artifact of untapped potential! Besides, how do they destroying it isn't going to make everything so much worse for them?"

"Exactly!" This is why he likes Lucifer. He's a smart man, not at all as short-sighted as most people he's met over his life. He tolerates his bookish roommate to a degree most people would not either, so he appreciates that.

"My first guess would be it's not them wanting it to die and more not wanting Thorne to get it. So destroying it rather than letting Thorne use it would be an extremely stupid choice that nevertheless would make sense to them." Istredd is very used to people in power particularly making very bad decisions that hurt everyone around them, and not actually caring about that. Very 'as long as I get mine' attitudes among the powerful.

"I think Solvunn's where some of our attention should be. Their connection to the old gods and older magic seems like a source everyone's ignoring."

So a case of people making irrational decisions just because they don't want the other guy to win.

... Lucifer has no idea what that could be like.

"Solvunn's my interest because they claim non-intervention," he says. "In my experience: no one is ever truly neutral. And despite our mutual-friend Wanda being from there, I don't know a lot about the place."

He wants to, but at the moment he's... not in the mood to talk to her much. As though she'll prod him about his not-brother. As though he should ask about his not-brother.

The less he knows is definitely not better, but he just wants to plead ignorance for awhile.

"All of Thorne's books on gods are useless. I had hoped there was some reading between the lines to parse reality from fiction--that works from my own world, but..." He scoffs.

"It's not neutrality either if they provide supplies to both sides." Istredd is sure it is a good thing that they did. Supplies are necessary for the people who will undoubtedly starve or struggle anywhere outside of the castle. But it still isn't neutral. "It's more likely they'll just see where the wind will blow. But they used to be owned by Thorne once. I doubt they'd let that happen again."

Meaning they may be peaceful now, but if Thorne's eyes turn to them again, neutrality may very well be dropped. He thinks logically they should have already partnered with Free Cities.

"I worked within the system of an empire called Nilfgaard. It thrived off kingdoms looking out for themselves first and everyone else second until it came for them next. It's all very logical, but unwise." Istredd himself just was interested in what he could find out from Nazair, but he heard the people and their opinions of their new overlords. It was interesting. What he's saying is that he assumes once Thorne destroys Free Cities, if they manage it, they'll find a reason for Solvunn next. It's just how these things go.

"As for the gods, it's typical they think it's all fairytales, but I think it's possible they are very real. Perhaps they've been quiet for awhile to avoid human nonsense."

A pause, curious. "Thorne owned Solvunn?" he repeats. He's done a lot of research and for as much as he thinks Solvunn is the faction to pay attention to--well, he's had a rough time adapting to Abraxas. Absorbing a lot of information but still missing important tidbits.

"Thorne was looking for any excuse," he says, "real or fabricated." He stops there, a pointed look at a spot ahead of him. Paranoia, once again. He knows even those few words are dangerous enough on their own to speak.

A conversation for another time, in a nice warded bedroom.

"Thorne once dominated most of the entire continent." This is why Istredd's historian mindset usually gets him information quickly. He knows where to look and who to ask. Most people don't think that sort of thing matters, but it's his go-to when arriving somewhere new.

"My guess is that they've been scheming ever since that changed to get it all back. Having an excuse to go to war with one of the rebel factions and perhaps conquer it again? One way to do it. They won't stop there when they can have it all."

And that is why he thinks Solvunn should be wary. Watching how things go for now might make sense, but he also doubts they're fools there. They have been smart enough to play this right for now. Maybe there are gods protecting them after all. He's heard of stranger things.

"That's how conquerors are. And the current royals would probably see them getting the rest of the continent back as the biggest success of their line."

He knows Thorne is the powerhouse; it's the only reason that he has some comfort being in there, cage and all. Thorne has the ability to do the most damage to the continent. The greatest chance he has at reattaining any sort of power.

But for their current problems it doesn't really matter.

"Istredd," he says the name sharply, commanding, to cut through all his theorizing. He turns his pointed look on the man. A lilt, "Stop talking."

He refuses to risk it. Too much being surrounded by witches and demons that knew how to listen in on a conversation.

"Let's focus on what we need to do." He makes a face, and adds, annoyed, "For Thorne." Which he doesn't at all care for, but it's about reputation.

Lucifer is smart because Istredd is absolutely likely to keep on theorizing and talking out his thoughts, and while he considers himself fairly dry and nonjudgmental at the moment, it can easily be seen as critical of Thorne. He's being critical, that's for certain, and he stops as soon as Lucifer says his name like that.

He understands right away the why and manages to look appropriately sheepish when he realizes how much he'd run his mouth. There are in fact ears everywhere around here, and the Queen is in particular in no mood for critics of her regime.

"You're right, of course. For Thorne."

Rewriting history with the stories we tell

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We can wrap here lol poor Lucifer with this fool