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

[dissemble]

That is not acceptable, given that the victim's fear is half the ritual. Lucifer finishes with the liver, drops it into the wooden bowl beside the heart, and appears in front of the interloper.

There are very few creatures Lucifer cannot identify, but right now Lucifer has no idea what in Creation he is looking at. To be honest, he doesn't care, because the clock is ticking and he really needs to finish this within the next two hours.

He folds his blood-covered arms across his chest and frowns down at the grey horned creature. His expression is calm, but inching towards pissed off.

"I understand you're incapable of taking suggestion, so I'll make this easy: either he joins his girlfriend over there, or you do." Not that the creature was getting out of this in one piece.

That's where being lenient got you. Creatures who thought they could do whatever they wanted without consequence. Well, Lucifer was sick of that.

[crab]

Karkat does halt, then, but he doesn't drop the boy -- he pulls him closer, supporting his weight with one arm, while the other withdraws his sickle again-- seemingly from thin air.

Karkat is terrified, and it shows in the tremble of his shoulders, and too-bright shine to his eyes, but there's nowhere to run, or hide.

"Yeah, uh, let me think about that. Okay. Consider this: go choke on a bouquet of slimy, severed musclebeast phalluses," his voice is high with fear, and hitches for something close to a sob, but he stands up straighter as he says it. "I don't have to do shit."

What did his file say about his blood? Hemokinesis...? The sickle is useless against his adversary as long as he has the boy in a protective hold, but against himself...

[dissemble]

Lucifer had found himself a slow learner, clearly that was the only explanation. Look at at poor creature, standing up as though it had any hope left of leaving the area alive.

He held out a hand and snapped his fingers. His previous sacrifice exploded with a wet sound, coating the surrounding few feet in a layer of warm, rather sticky goo. It wasn't the cleanest or most painless death to give someone, but Lucifer really didn't have the time right now.

"I guess you'll be the one taking part today." He does not sound impressed.

[crab]

Karkat has seen more people die than he cares to relive, more gruesome ends than he was ever mentally equipped to handle, but it's the first time he's seen someone obliterated like that, and so effortlessly. What remains of the nameless stranger he'd just failed so miserably to help is smeared across his face, in his hair, everywhere. He can taste blood, and it isn't his.

He has to fight the urge to be sick. He can't fight the way his knees buckle underneath him. His weapon is held limp and forgotten at his side.

He jerks his head from side to side in the gesture for no.

[dissemble]

Lucifer steps closer to the strange creature and the rapidly cooling circle of flesh. The goo squishes under his shoes.

"I did warn you." Pity seeps from Lucifer's voice and expression. He seems hurt almost, that this stranger would make him so such a thing. This wasn't his plan.

"Now, I'm going to head back over there and finish with her. Then I'll be back for you. Don't go anywhere." The creature looks traumatised enough, but to be safe Lucifer snaps a leg as well. He can feel the girl's body cooling, and he really needs to get on with that.

Content that there will be no further interruptions, he turns his back- intending to continue where he'd left off.

[crab]

Karkat's own howl of pain when his femur snaps like a dried out twig is an echo of the boy's, and for a moment, there's nothing he can do but what Lucifer told him to-- the combination of his own pain and terror and the referred input from the remains of the two campers is too much to process, and leaves him immobile, curled in the unappealing mixture of mud and gore.

After a few minutes of sobbing into the filth, however, some of his rational mind emerges from the haze, and with it -- with the memory of the pity in Lucifer's voice -- comes not just pain, not just fear, but anger. The sobbing tapers off into harsh, raspy gasps, and he remembers the sickle -- about a foot away, beside him, where he'd dropped it.

It's a slow process, angling his body so the weapon is within reach again without passing out or throwing up, but after a few minutes of wriggling around on the ground like a wounded grub, his fingers close over the weapon, and he hesitates, panting, wondering where the incision should be made. He's never willingly drawn his own blood before.

He draws the blade over his palm, pressing down hard, and the pain that shoots up his arm is nothing to the pain everywhere else, and he ignores it, watching the candy red gutterswill welling in the newly made gash. His blood has never served any purpose but to make his life miserable, before now. But...

If he couldn't save the boy...

The blood does not drip down -- it rises from the wound, like some grotesque serpent, splitting and branching the way arteries might, lashing through the air with little to no prodding from Karkat. It responds to his anger, and he is furious. Vengeful.

If he couldn't save the boy, he can make his killer pay.

[dissemble]

Lucifer senses something change, but not in time to avoid the something that slices clean across his wrist, severing his hand from his arm. The sunny sky darkens immediately, the temperature drops, and a wind whips up out of nowhere.

His cry of pain sounds loud enough to raise hell. It hurts, naturally. His vessel is a working human body, and pain receptors are not usually enough of a problem to do anything about them.

Without pause Lucifer turns to glare at the creature, raising his good hand to end it's pathetic life.

Almost immediately he can sense that something is wrong. The stump regenerating where his hand was severed slows its growth, and instead of the thing laying on the grass being turned into a charred lump of incinerated flesh, only a part of the creature's clothing catches on fire.

Irritated, he forgets his hand- focusing on the blood which is currently lashing at him, cutting angry red lines into his vessel.

[crab]

Karkat registers the flames, and the pain when they reach his flesh, but between all the other sources of pain fighting for his attention, a sort of plateau is reached. There's simply too much to process, too much to allow him any room to think -- only act, fuelled by fear, adrenaline, and rage. It's with an inhuman snarl that he pushes himself up onto his knees, ignoring the way his broken leg spasms and trembles at an unnatural angle beneath him.

His sleeve is still burning, as his stretches his arm out toward Lucifer, palm up and open-- a posture that might seem more appropriate to offering some kind of gift, if not for the deadly streams of blood still rising from the gash in his palm.

"I'll make this easy," Karkat hisses through bared teeth, echoing Lucifer's earlier words. "Either you leave, now, or I reduce you to something that closely resembles low-budget barkbeast sustenance."

Karkat Vantas is not, and will never be a cold blooded killer -- but the blood he wields now boils. The intent behind the words is genuine. One tendril topples a nearby tree; another slashes the corpse of the girl clean in half at the waist.

[dissemble]

Karkat's is not the only blood boiling.

Lucifer's anger rises as quickly as the temperature falls, and soon a layer of frost white is snaking over the grass and strewn debris around them. The wind strengthens, picking up said debris and creating another level of chaos.

His vessel is bleeding from multiple wounds now- and Lucifer becomes aware that his vessel's limit will soon be reached. As Samuel Winchester doesn't appear to be changing his mind any time soon, he needs to keep this one in a repairable state.

But then the creature spits back his own words at him- and that is the final straw. Lucifer does not run.

He forces the temperature lower, knowing that humans can only survive within certain temperatures. With his effort focused the wind drops- the air turning still other than the thrashing coming from the creature.