Of course he wasn't going to answer that question, either. Obviously.
At least he doesn't have to bother explaining anything here. Lucifer knows that there's no way he could have picked up the phone like this, even if he'd wanted to. A scowl does cross his face when Lucifer speaks, because that wasn't particularly anything he wanted Sarah to know, but it's too late to protest now. ]
You know that hiding it isn't necessary.
[ He mutters, a tinge of annoyance coloring his tone.
His gaze is fixed at some point on the ceiling now, rather than at Lucifer or at the phone. ]
[ She could just hang up. She could just hang up, and then try to keep her brain from repeating kill yourself again on a loop until she throws up.
So that's how he died.
That's how he died, and now she's caught in the abiding sorrow she felt from him the first time they met, and is that what made him do it, and--
Lucifer is talking to her. She recognizes his voice, if not the face. There has to be something she can say. She's not going to just stare at them like an idiot, and she's not going to run away like a coward.
Sorry, Josh, she thinks.]
If you did what you need to do, you can let him go.
[He hears Michael's response, but he doesn't bother to acknowledge it. His brother can protest as much as he wants, he doesn't believe it.]
Well, that's not a very polite hello. [And he gives her a quizzical look before glancing back over at Michael.] Let him go? What-mmm. It's the blood right?
[The tips of his fingers glow as he sets two of them on Michael's forehead, and with a literal flash, the injury and the blood is all gone.]
[ Michael's eyes drift closed for a moment when Lucifer's fingers brush against his skin, but the moment they're open again he's giving his brother a look. He's clearly still incapable of doing anything, and he's aware that anything he says at this point is going to be thoroughly ignored on both sides. It's more than a bit frustrating.
He's still refusing to look at the phone.
In fact he's refusing to speak at all, since no one is going to listen. Stoic silence is something that he can do very well. ]
[ She's hopelessly out of her depth. Michael was right. She doesn't know what's going on. She wishes he would look at her, give her some indicator of what to do. But she needs to be able to figure this out on her own. She can't rely on him. She shouldn't have to rely on anybody. ]
He's still tied down, so not really.
[ At least that dripping is gone. Just gone. The power it takes do to something like that makes her stomach turn over. ]
[Oh. His brother is pouting. And Sarah is being demanding. It's almost hard to decide where he wants to focus his attention.]
That's not really any of your business, is it? If Michael wants free, he'll ask.
[And because he really can't help himself he pats Michael's messy mop of hair just to see if it'll get Michael's gaze away from the ceiling and back to him. He's not a fan of being ignored.]
[ That annoyed expression flickers back over Michael's face when Lucifer reaches over to pat his head, and he makes a low noise, barely audible but most definitely a warning sort of growl, his muscles tensing against the restraints. Fine, if Lucifer wants his attention that badly, he has it. ]
Enough.
[ If Lucifer's going to pretend that everything is so nice and friendly here, then he'll bite. So to speak. He knows that Sarah is probably looking to him for some sort of advice here, but he has nothing to give her at this point. Nothing that he hasn't said before, at least. ]
[ This time it's Sarah's turn to fall silent, holding her breath. She's trying to figure out how fast she can call LHPD if she needs to. What it will take to reach Chloe, how long before the police figure out where Michael and Lucifer are.
If they would even be there any more. She bites her lower lip and waits.]
[It's a low noise, but it's hard to miss the intent behind it. It's enough of a sound to have most of the Host trembling in fear, but Lucifer, well-he simply pats Michael's cheek and grins at him before turning back to Sarah.]
Did you know he has a hearing problem? Not because I boxed him too many times, it's entirely voluntary. But I said he could ask and he hears demand, funny how that works, right?
[Hi Sarah this is an archangel as old as time that still has moments where he acts like a snotty teenager.]
[ Lucifer is familiar with this look in Michael's eyes. It's all fire, boiling just underneath the relatively stoic exterior, but as Lucifer turns away from him, he seems to settle back into a somewhat sullen, definitely defiant glare at the ceiling. He clearly has no intention of asking for anything. It would be so much easier to just play along, but, well. Michael's stubborn pride is a force to be reckoned with. ]
[Lucifer's head cocks to the side and there's a moment where he debates between getting annoyed at her or laughing at her. Instead, he comes up with a better idea and simply shrugs at her.
And then promptly licks his finger -with a forked tongue, because they do have an audience, and he's always been a performer- and then shoves it in Michael's defiant ear.
Yep. Satan is giving the archangel Michael a wet willy. Thanks for the idea, Sarah.]
[ Lucifer is indeed a performer. Michael is extensively familiar with his antics and his fickle sense of humor, so he's neither surprised nor amused when Lucifer decides to play on Sarah's comment. There's a very sharp contrast between the playful facade he's putting on here and the game he was playing earlier, and just looking at this, it would be easy to be taken in by the act.
Michael doesn't even twitch. If Lucifer was hoping to get any kind of reaction out of him, he's going to be severely disappointed. ]
[ In different circumstances, Michael's lack of a reaction would be enough to make her laugh. But it would have to be in very different circumstances.
Sarah is at a loss. It's easy to match this Lucifer to the one who made it snow and who created flowers in her mind's forest. But she also remembers the blood. The way it slid down the side of Michael's face. Those deep gashes.
Lucifer is like a child who pulls the wings off of butterflies, and that makes him more frightening, not less.
Deep breath. There's something that still needs doing. ]
[Asshole. Lucifer knows without a doubt that Michael would have reacted if they didn't currently have an audience. He hears Sarah's plea, but ignores it for a moment as he pulls cold grace into his fingers and freezes the inside of Michael's ear. It's a little jab just between them.]
Is that better? You have to have someone ask for you? [There's a casual tease to his words that otherwise aren't, and with a snap of his fingers, the restraints are gone. The collar he leaves for a moment, because he knows the second the phone is off, Michael will retaliate violently and he's not inclined to be at a disadvantage when he does.]
Better thank her.
[And then he tosses the phone at Michael's chest. Enjoy that close up, Sarah.]
[ Michael was anticipating some sort of retaliation in response to ignoring Lucifer's prodding, but that stab of cold inside his ear is a sharp, unexpected pain. It's almost intense enough to make him wince despite his determination not to show any sort of reaction, especially not a pained one.
He does manage to catch the phone before it tumbles back down to the bed, which would possibly show off a lot more in the way of bare skin. Even so, there's an unobstructed view of his chest now, unblemished aside from an intricate looking mark that more or less squarely in the center of his chest that looks as if it was carved there, which lies directly on top of a much larger, jagged scar that's so faded that one would have to squint to make out the edges.
That flare of anger seems to have subsided somewhat for the moment even though he is still deeply annoyed with Lucifer, and it's easy to see that in his eyes. But he knows that it could have been far worse, all things considered.
She's going to have questions about his death now, though, and he's sure that she won't forget about that. Or any of this. ]
Please tell me that you're not going to call the police as soon as I put the phone down.
[ His death won't be the only thing she has questions about. That mark looks like a magical symbol, one she doesn't recognize. And she hasn't forgotten how he wasn't able to get out of those ties, either.
She has a lot to ask him about. ]
I won't if you call and tell me you're all right, when you are.
[ More than two hours of silence and she'll go to the LHPD in person. ]
[ Someone would possibly find this comical, between Lucifer glaring at him from the corner and Sarah giving him a look that promises every bit of defiance that she can muster in order to protect him, despite his repeated insistence that he doesn't need it. Michael isn't generally amused.
He rolls his shoulders, which are sore from being stretched for as long as they were, and sighs. He meant what he said when he told her that getting involved would just be inviting trouble. It would just be an entirely futile effort. Few people know that Lucifer has a house, and even fewer know where it is. It would take the police ages to find it, and even when they did, it wouldn't do them any good.
But arguing is a waste of effort. ]
Fine.
[ He pauses as if he wants to say something else, there might even be something apologetic briefly in his eyes, but he decides against it and ends the call instead. ]
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Of course he wasn't going to answer that question, either. Obviously.
At least he doesn't have to bother explaining anything here. Lucifer knows that there's no way he could have picked up the phone like this, even if he'd wanted to. A scowl does cross his face when Lucifer speaks, because that wasn't particularly anything he wanted Sarah to know, but it's too late to protest now. ]
You know that hiding it isn't necessary.
[ He mutters, a tinge of annoyance coloring his tone.
His gaze is fixed at some point on the ceiling now, rather than at Lucifer or at the phone. ]
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So that's how he died.
That's how he died, and now she's caught in the abiding sorrow she felt from him the first time they met, and is that what made him do it, and--
Lucifer is talking to her. She recognizes his voice, if not the face. There has to be something she can say. She's not going to just stare at them like an idiot, and she's not going to run away like a coward.
Sorry, Josh, she thinks.]
If you did what you need to do, you can let him go.
[ It sounds stupid even before she says it. ]
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Well, that's not a very polite hello. [And he gives her a quizzical look before glancing back over at Michael.] Let him go? What-mmm. It's the blood right?
[The tips of his fingers glow as he sets two of them on Michael's forehead, and with a literal flash, the injury and the blood is all gone.]
Better?
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He's still refusing to look at the phone.
In fact he's refusing to speak at all, since no one is going to listen. Stoic silence is something that he can do very well. ]
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He's still tied down, so not really.
[ At least that dripping is gone. Just gone. The power it takes do to something like that makes her stomach turn over. ]
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That's not really any of your business, is it? If Michael wants free, he'll ask.
[And because he really can't help himself he pats Michael's messy mop of hair just to see if it'll get Michael's gaze away from the ceiling and back to him. He's not a fan of being ignored.]
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Enough.
[ If Lucifer's going to pretend that everything is so nice and friendly here, then he'll bite. So to speak. He knows that Sarah is probably looking to him for some sort of advice here, but he has nothing to give her at this point. Nothing that he hasn't said before, at least. ]
Release me, then.
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If they would even be there any more. She bites her lower lip and waits.]
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Did you know he has a hearing problem? Not because I boxed him too many times, it's entirely voluntary. But I said he could ask and he hears demand, funny how that works, right?
[Hi Sarah this is an archangel as old as time that still has moments where he acts like a snotty teenager.]
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It's not funny.
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And stares.
And then her mouth, as it sometimes does, gets ahead of her brain. ]
You're both acting like twelve-year-olds.
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And then promptly licks his finger -with a forked tongue, because they do have an audience, and he's always been a performer- and then shoves it in Michael's defiant ear.
Yep. Satan is giving the archangel Michael a wet willy. Thanks for the idea, Sarah.]
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Michael doesn't even twitch. If Lucifer was hoping to get any kind of reaction out of him, he's going to be severely disappointed. ]
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Sarah is at a loss. It's easy to match this Lucifer to the one who made it snow and who created flowers in her mind's forest. But she also remembers the blood. The way it slid down the side of Michael's face. Those deep gashes.
Lucifer is like a child who pulls the wings off of butterflies, and that makes him more frightening, not less.
Deep breath. There's something that still needs doing. ]
Please let him go.
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Is that better? You have to have someone ask for you? [There's a casual tease to his words that otherwise aren't, and with a snap of his fingers, the restraints are gone. The collar he leaves for a moment, because he knows the second the phone is off, Michael will retaliate violently and he's not inclined to be at a disadvantage when he does.]
Better thank her.
[And then he tosses the phone at Michael's chest. Enjoy that close up, Sarah.]
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He does manage to catch the phone before it tumbles back down to the bed, which would possibly show off a lot more in the way of bare skin. Even so, there's an unobstructed view of his chest now, unblemished aside from an intricate looking mark that more or less squarely in the center of his chest that looks as if it was carved there, which lies directly on top of a much larger, jagged scar that's so faded that one would have to squint to make out the edges.
That flare of anger seems to have subsided somewhat for the moment even though he is still deeply annoyed with Lucifer, and it's easy to see that in his eyes. But he knows that it could have been far worse, all things considered.
She's going to have questions about his death now, though, and he's sure that she won't forget about that. Or any of this. ]
Please tell me that you're not going to call the police as soon as I put the phone down.
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She has a lot to ask him about. ]
I won't if you call and tell me you're all right, when you are.
[ More than two hours of silence and she'll go to the LHPD in person. ]
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He rolls his shoulders, which are sore from being stretched for as long as they were, and sighs. He meant what he said when he told her that getting involved would just be inviting trouble. It would just be an entirely futile effort. Few people know that Lucifer has a house, and even fewer know where it is. It would take the police ages to find it, and even when they did, it wouldn't do them any good.
But arguing is a waste of effort. ]
Fine.
[ He pauses as if he wants to say something else, there might even be something apologetic briefly in his eyes, but he decides against it and ends the call instead. ]