I want so much more than they've got planned

[dissemble]

WHO: Lucifer, open
WHERE: various places in North America, Heropa
WHEN: from now to the 26/27th
WHAT: A catch-all post for Lucifer while he is out and about the big wide world. Options for fighting or talking within.
WARNINGS: Lucifer being himself. Definitely: Murder, death, abused Disney song lyrics. NOW SPOILERS FOR MURDER, MUTILATION, GROSSNESS, CREEPY RITUALS. Potentially: bad language, fighting, manipulating, extreme truth-telling, religious talk, threatening talk, threatening religious talk, feels, more death and murder.



I want adventure in the great wide somewhere-

Recordings of Lucifer going about his murder business are getting more common- and it's no longer limited to individuals. He's moved on to pairs and threes now, and the shaky news feed shows that he's taking his time in various gruesome ways.

Anyone tuned in to live news will be able to catch the reports of his whereabouts, and anyone fast enough will be able to catch up with him before he's finished his work. Lucifer is really in no rush. He's composed, calm- as though that weren't someone's spine he just snapped in two.

Being interrupted in his work won't make him angry, just a little sad that people keep wanting to talk or fight him while he's busy. He's surprised that so many people continue to object to him.

It's only humans he's killing.



I want it more than I can tell-

There are still various things keeping Lucifer in and around Heropa. He'll be most often seen in the company of his brother, but there will be occasion when he'll be found in alone the local cathedral, in the public square with the half-blind old men playing chess, and one morning he can even be found down at the beach studying the sun as it rises on a particularly beautiful day. He's open to conversation, confrontation, even a game of chess if there's a set nearby.

Since the initial museum incident there have been no displays of arsonistic tendencies. There is a warrant out for his arrest, however, so if and when a call comes in the police or any willing heroes will be dispatched to try to apprehend him. Lucifer is more frustrated by this.

He hadn't been doing anything at all and you want to interrupt his relaxing morning on the beach? Who's the dick now?



[ooc: basically, if you want your character to talk/fight/etc Lucifer sometime this month, this is the place! Feel free to ping me here or on plurk to set up anything more specific than the general prompts given above. Once again here's a link to Lucifer's permissions post.

Re: fighting. I'd rather not have Lucifer taken down just yet - but he needs to find out that he's not as powerful as he thinks he is, especially around Heropa! So stick it to him! Alternately, Lucifer can main/kill your character as much as you like, so if that's something you're after definitely let me know!]

Comments

[iampretty]

Hans had taken to eating his lunch in the public square. The weather was nice, it had more space than the office, and Hans could people watch. Unfortunately, today during people watching, he spotted Lucifer standing near a chess set.

Wasn't that the man who tried to burn down the museum? What was he doing here?

Frowning slightly, Hans temporarily put away his lunch and walked over towards the chess set. Moving over to one side, he moved a pawn forward. Looking up at Lucifer, Hans smiled slightly, trying to seem disconcerting.

"Care for a game?"

Potentially playing chess with a psychopath. Well, he had made worse decisions. He couldn't think of any at the moment, but he was sure he had made worse. Besides, the man was interesting and Hans wanted to learn more about him.

[dissemble]

It was a nice day to be out in Heropa and Lucifer was spending it considering how to find out more about the space program and what exactly the porter wanted with them all. The people going about their business were hardly on his radar, until one approached and suggested chess as a way to pass the time.

Lucifer returned the suggestion with an appraising look.

"It's been a while since I've played."

[iampretty]

"Then I promise to go easy on you," Hans remarked, with a little smile. He gestured to the chess board with a gloved hand--the gloves being a force of habit from back home that he couldn't bring himself to get rid of.

"Not too easy, of course. I wouldn't want to give the game away."

Truth be told, Hans didn't plan on going easy at all. If this was truly Lucifer, he had a feeling that the man would be much better at chess than Hans was expecting. He was going to play his best, if Lucifer agreed.

[dissemble]

Lucifer assented, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs. Naturally he chose white and moved first.

"Do you often challenge strangers to chess during your lunch break?"

(april 11th)

[slightlyoffchilt]

He had been keeping a keen eye on the news, of course. The murders, gruesome and intricate and savage, attracted Chilton's attention -- the warrant for his morning star patient (as Chilton considered him) cut deeper each passing day. Chilton, professionally speaking, hoped dearly that Lucifer would find himself in chains; the psychopathy was so theatrical in its display, so craven and infuriatingly nonchalant, and Chilton was craving to discuss it.

He already had the title of his paper picked out, for after he could analyze Lucifer properly.

After work on that Friday afternoon, Chilton went for a bit of a drive, to a seaside cove, where the ocean licked sunburnt sand. It was an odd impulse, one contrary to his usual schedule. But he felt nearly compelled.

[dissemble]

There were still some places on Earth where an angel could find that humanity hadn't yet ruined. This cove was such a place. It was far enough away from the surrounding cities that one could, if one was inclined, pretend that Creation was still all just as beautiful as it had been when it was new. Lucifer is not inclined to such lies, unfortunately.

Lucifer has had a busy few days, but even he needs some time off from his work . Not to relax; but simply to focus and consider whether there are other actions he could be taking to further his goals.

And if a certain psychologist could be nudged into joining him, so much the better. Though the smugness and pride of the doctor is nauseating, Lucifer never breaks an arrangement he's made.

When the doctor arrives he will find Lucifer standing ankle deep in the surprisingly warm water, looking out at the ocean.

[slightlyoffchilt]

His car, a rental, was parked safely away enough from the sinking sand of the cove's beach. Chilton's illustrious appointments, his numerous sessions with imPorts, had required him to invest (even momentarily) in some personal transportation.

But now it served a higher purpose.

He stepped through the sand, making it midway through the beach before he removed his shoes and socks and followed Lucifer into the warmed waters that lapped against the earth.

"Did you invoke me here?"

It was the first sentence on his tongue.

[dissemble]

"I thought you'd prefer not having SWAT jump through your hospital windows." More or less.

Lucifer couldn't have cared less about Chilton's windows, but he'd been finding that his powers weren't as strong around Heropa, and dealing with whatever do-gooders showed up to confront him would mean even more time putting up with this little man and his self-important questions.

April 9th.

[selfimage]

It hadn't been difficult to find him. He left a very messy trail of sorcerous excavations and a map of instructive voodoo. Needless to say, Loki had his ways of reading all sorts of new and archaic arts. Once you got the hang of one of them, the rest just sort of poof! simple. All runes, all magic words, no matter where they came from, had a few common threads: they were there to tell a very pretty lie. How well that lie was woven in word and thought was what made it convincing.

"Can't stay away, can you? You're quite popular, you know. They put your face all over the news." Just like you likely wanted, he added to himself. "It's quite the statement that you're making."

There's no fear, no hesitance, just curious confidence. For a trickster good, it was never power that was in the question, but everything else he used at his disposal.

"But we could make small talk about a stroll on the beach, if you'd like."

[dissemble]

The godling approaches without fear or caution, and if he'd been an angel Lucifer would have reprimanded him harshly for the audacity. But Loki is no angel, and Lucifer doubts that he will have anything to fear from a pagan deity who paints his nails black.

"Only humans could make such a spectacle out of the deaths of their own kind." Like flies buzzing over a corpse, the media flock to the scenes of the deaths- while thousands more died without fanfare every day in far more gruesome ways.

"I'd assumed you would be older." Lucifer will start strolling down the beach, if Loki wants to join him.

[selfimage]

Of course not, nothing to fear here.

Just a curious bystander.

But that's what he always was, a curious bystander. A catalyst. Every Loki, no matter how good of intention, had always been a catalyst for chaos; powers, no powers. These of these new religions liked to flaunt the size of their packages. Gabriel had well announced it—and Lucifer? Well, the media was proof enough.

He strolls beside him.

"Many say that," he says easily, holding up one of his hands. He's very animated. His gestures, his expressions. It's almost like he's playing a part in a play. "I could say that I assumed you'd have a halo—or perhaps horns and hooves! All depending on which ancient scribe was trying to scare which group into submission."

13th of april; let me know if you want anything changed.

[crab]

Karkat was tired of Florida. Tired of the humidity, tired of the sun, tired of the ocean. Tired of Earth, tired of humanity, tired of conforming to the laws and expectations of a planet and a society that never belonged to him.

Louisiana was no better in terms of climate, but there was a certain nostalgia in wading out into the swamp -- not the one Khisanth had settled them in, but he wasn't about to go combing the entire state for a particular swamp that might not even exist in this world -- and, more importantly, he was alone. Underneath the dappled shade of the cypress trees, far away from the influence and frustration of anyone else, maybe he could relax -- just for a while.

Maybe Hell would freeze over, too.

The empathic input, weak though it is, on the outer edges of his range, is enough of a shock to his system to have his knees buckling with a splash, breath catching in his throat. It isn't the dynamic, fluid, living input he's used to-- rather, it's like an echo. One of pain and fear and the overpowering desire not to die. Please, please, please, he doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to die, not here, not now. He's afraid. He'll do anything, anything at all, just let him go, just leave him alone, let him live, please, please stop--

"It's not me," he gasps, and his voice sounds too loud, to his own ears. "That's not me."

But it is someone. Was someone. He looks up, peering through the trees, for the source. Even from this far away, the pain is enough to make him recoil, and a large part of him wants to turn around, walk away. He doesn't want to see what lies at the end of this empathic trail. He should have known a moment's peace was asking too much. He struggles back to his feet.

"This may be the least genre savvy thing I've ever done," he sighs, to no one in particular, as he begins to follow the echoes of the stranger's last moments, footsteps audible splashes.

it's fantastic :3

[dissemble]

The two teenagers had been camping.

Well, what they had been doing is fairly irrelevant to Lucifer. The important thing was that they're the right age for what he needed today. Not quite children, not quite adults- one foot firmly on either side of that mysterious human divide.

Behind him the teenage boy is sobbing, pleading with him to let him go. Not that he'll go far on two broken legs. Lucifer tunes the boy out, focusing on the delicate work needed to remove the organs in the correct manner. Rituals need to be followed properly, and Lucifer's skipping enough steps already doing this in the middle of a swamp.

The girl is dead already, her sightless eyes staring up at the clear Virginia sky. He'd done this in the rain last week. That had been a mess he was not going to repeat.

He's up to his elbows in blood, in the middle of cutting the last of the arteries surrounding her heart when he notices something approaching. It's not his brother, so he pays it no mind. Lucifer has nothing to fear in this world, after all.

[crab]

The closer he gets, the more it becomes apparent that it isn't just one stranger he's dealing with. Three separate hearts, one dead, one injured and terrified, and one... one like no one Karkat's ever encountered before.

What approaches is not Lucifer's brother, but nor is it human. Around the same age as the two unfortunate teenagers, as it gets closer, the boy notices its arrival, too-- and he feels hope. It can be read on his face, in the pathetic struggle to drag himself toward the newcomer, in the empathic output rolling off of him in waves of agony and barely processed grief for his dead companion. It doesn't matter that the newcomer isn't human. All that matters is that someone has found him. Someone has come to save him.

"Help me! Help me, help, please!"

Karkat is no hero. The scene is not the worst he's ever witnessed, and the pain is not the worst he's ever felt. But it's enough that he can barely keep from succumbing to the nausea, bile rising in the back of his throat, and enough for tears to prick at the corners of his eyes. Enough that he has to remind himself it isn't his pain. The boy's frantic plea for assistance has him freezing in place, sickle clutched tight in his hand, taking in the carnage, and he wonders if he can.

"Fuck me," he whispers, before he lunges forward, to hook his arms up under the boy's, to try and drag him away. He is not gentle -- there is no time for gentle. The pair's scream of shared pain echoes through the trees.

April 16th; let me know if anything needs to be changed!

[incendere]

When Roy first heard about the killings, he didn't pay as much attention as he should have. Crimes happened every day in cities as large as these, and the sudden disappearance of one or two people, while troubling, was surely something that the local police were already taking care of. It was only when the broadcasts became more frequent, and the amount of victims began to grow, that Roy began to take notes.

It was the way the most recent scenes were arranged that caught his attention the most. While gruesome, they seemed precise--thought out enough that he couldn't help but be reminded of the rules of alchemy. If that were the case, then it meant that the killer had some motive other than senseless murder. Were they human sacrifices that were being used to create something like the philosopher's stones?

From what he could tell, the murders weren't in any locations on the map that would indicate a large transmutation circle like the one underground back home. But that didn't mean that there wasn't some sort of pattern. While most seemed to be in barren or isolated locations, there were a few where he thought he could see the snippet of a cross, or some statue in the background. It may have been nothing, but it was certainly worth looking in to.

Roy was not a religious man. Being an alchemist had extinguished those thoughts long ago. So when he entered the cathedral, it was with less grace or care than would be acceptable for those who normally visited a place of worship. As the heavy doors closed behind him, he stuck his gloved hands into his pockets, and began to walk around the edge of the pews. His pace was slow as he scanned the area, looking for some clue that would tell him what Lucifer was up to.

[dissemble]

Lucifer avoids churches, where he can. There is nothing in them which he can relate to, and the humans who infest them are usually more pathetically misguided than most.

Today, however, he's making an exception- as he needed something that only a holy man in a place of worship can offer.

(That thing being the kidneys of a holy man killed in a place of worship, naturally).

He's left the man, now dead, concealed in the lectern, though undoubtably the blood hasn't remained so well hidden. Lucifer himself is up behind the high altar, just finishing said ritual.

[incendere]

It was the blood that caught Roy's attention first. It was not a sight that he was not used to seeing, and even in dim lighting, it had a way of standing out. He took his time approaching the high altar, looking around the cathedral to see if there was anyone else that was there that could pose a threat or be in danger. He followed the blood stains, examining the splatters in an attempt to figure out exactly what happened. It was only when he was at the edge of the choir stalls that he was able to get a good look at Lucifer himself.

He had seen his face, of course, on the network. Like so many others, Roy was introduced to him when he blew up the museum. What had he called himself then? A fairly simple kind of guy. One who had no qualms setting an entire building on fire while innocent people were screaming inside.

Roy took his gloved right hand out of his pocket. Perhaps he wasn't as simple as he claimed to be.

"Well, well," he said, once he had come to a stop, "It seems you've managed to keep yourself busy."

uhm, any night really.

[closetshark]

It is, perhaps, almost laughably easy for Pitch to pinpoint Lucifer in the middle of... whatever it is he's doing with those humans. He doesn't bother to hide his observation much, he doesn't see a reason to. It's highly likely that Lucifer will notice, and notice that whatever's observing isn't human. Not by a long shot.

He's lounging rather nonchalantly against a lamp post that popped faintly as it went out, and just... watching with a vaguely amused expression on his face while blatantly ignoring whatever begging for help the unfortunate human is doing.

"They're on their way, you know. Law enforcement." he says after a long few minutes.

[dissemble]

Lucifer looks up only when the streetlight goes out. Both hands are bloody, and his shirt has clearly seen better days- and he looks like an angel who is starting to wonder if he will ever get through a ritual uninterupted again.

When Pitch makes no move to interrupt he goes back to his work. Tonight requires less finesse than some other rituals, but the blood makes the work slippery so it pays to focus.

"They never learn." Not that Lucifer objected to killing more humans as they got in his way, but he did have better things to do with his time.

18th April

[larker]

The last few days for Gabriel had been a complete clusterfuck. He'd gone to Jerusalem to check it out, to see if Lucifer hadn't just missed some holy oil. The intentions had been halfway decent, but the authorities hadn't seen it like that. Apparently they frowned on a second, unannounced vacation. Gabriel had been given a choice- 24 hours of detention, or being listed as AWOL. Detention was definitely the easier option of the two, Gabriel sitting there in Jerusalem as he found the whole thing a little nostalgic. Wow, a cell in the Holy Land of all places. And then they sent some poor military schmuck to escort him back to America. Gabe had converted the kid; to atheism during that trip.

It was time to check up on Lucifer. Gabriel knew he'd agreed to help, was already getting cold feet over that one. He'd say anything to stop Lucifer from killing him again, at least before he had a chance of shanking the bastard. A snap of the fingers and Gabriel found himself in a room....or what looked like a room, it was hard to tell with all the blood. Great. Gabriel took a moment to navigate slightly, stepping over the pool of blood on the floor. That's a hazard- someone could slip and break their neck.

"I can see you're behaving yourself."

[dissemble]

The appearance of his brother was a suprise, especially after the long absence. Lucifer had wondered if, after their last discussion, his brother had chickened out and gone into hiding like he usually did.

That didn't seem to be the case here, though Lucifer did check to make sure his hands were empty. No angel blades in sight. He turned back to the ritual in front of him.

"Which tropical island were you on this time?"

[larker]

If Gabriel had a choice, he'd definitely be on another tropical island. Permanently. The archangel knew if he did that, he'd get his powers reduced, and that was the last thing anyone needed with a murderous big brother at large. Apparently third time was the charm when it came to leaving the country unannounced.

"Oh I went mainland this time. Thought I'd pop in to Jerusalem, you had me nostalgic for the sights." It wasn't a lie, more a dance around the truth. "Let me tell you that they mean business when they say stop leaving the country."

4/22

[corviform]

Gil has heard about the killings, but with the incidents dispersed over the country he has no proper means of tailing the culprit and doing much about it. Not to mention he's hardly brash enough to presume he, a single man, could stop another powerful being on his own. After Violet's post on the network, he understands it's going to take a group of imPorts to stop this Lucifer being.

However, none of the grisly murders or Lucifer himself are at the forefront of his mind this early evening. There are other things weighing on his mind, like the move, Kenzi's mood since her friend's disappearance and return, trying to find and lift a veil to find out what it is the government and military are hiding from them.

With that much he's wrestling with, he doesn't notice who that other person is nearby, only that there appears to be blood staining his clothes. His or another person's, Gil can't discern yet, but his eyes widen and he calls out, "Hey! Are you alright?"

[dissemble]

Lucifer had come looking for his brother in Heropa and failed to find him. That was concerning. He had little enough faith in him to start with, but he didn't know whether he should be concerned about Gabriel turning on him again.

Lost in thought as he is, he doesn't pay any attention to the shouting human until it is right next to him.

"Never better." Lucifer's tone is bemused, masking any irritation he may feel at having his thoughts interrupted. He looks down at himself. Ah- there was the problem. In an instant his clothes and skin are clean of all blood, fresh as though just washed.

"How's that?"

[corviform]

Gil freezes mid-step, his heart plunging into a stomach gripped tightly with apprehension as he registered the voice responding. He may not have gotten a good glimpse of him back on the network, but he's been able to commit that nonchalant tone to memory.

This doesn't look good. He's out here by himself with someone who definitely wields more power than he'll ever have. However, he seemed to take an interest in Violet, or attempted to frighten her not too long ago. Though he may not understand the teenager or be close with her, between the museum fire and his conversation with her, Gil has already taken a dislike to Lucifer.

He's startled by the vanishing of the blood, but it quickly occurs to him: "It wasn't yours."