video | content warnings for the devil being the devil

[dissemble]

[Did you know you had a Civil War Museum, residents of Heropa? If you didn't, be sure to pay attention to what you can see in the background of this man's video. It's a wonderful museum, well organized and very educational.

The man in the video is dressed unassumingly in overalls. He's shutting a door behind him and locking it- obviously he thinks closing time is the best time to greet the rest of the network.
Well, it takes all kinds, doesn't it? His voice is calm and there's almost a neighborly tone to it.]

Hi- I'm, uh. I'm only new here so maybe there's a memo I missed or something, but I was wondering about what exactly we're supposed to be doing here. I'm a fairly simple kind of a guy- I like to call things how I see them. Call a pitchfork a pitchfork, you get the picture.

Now, I'm under the impression that I've been kidnapped and brought to Florida against my will. Not only that- but I've been branded like a piece of cattle. Yet some of you seem to be suggesting I've been done a favor of some kind.

[A pause as he locks the front doors of the museum behind him, checks they're securely shut, and moves away from the building. His tone begins shifts away from good-natured.]

That's a little rude, don't you think? Bringing us all here without any consultation and then asking us to thank them for it? That's fairly arrogant of them, right?

[Wait- was that a scream in the background?]

Now, I don't know you and you don't know me- but I'm sure there's a better way to resolve our differences than having all of us lying down in the dirt and letting them piss all over us.

[As he moves away from the building those of you who were admiring the fine architecture will notice that there are flames coming out of the windows. And yes- those are definitely screams you can hear now.

Lucifer is looking frankly into the camera once more.]

Just my take on things.


[The feed ends.


ooc: this is why you don't give lucifer a job as assistant curator at the local civil war memorial.

heroes- the poor people trapped inside the museum need your help! Lucifer won't be sticking around to deal with the fallout but please go ahead and threadjack to organise/actionspam rescues on this post!]

Comments

[dissemble]

[wow that was lucifer being patient :/

In lieu of responding Lucifer snaps his fingers. And again. And again. He continues snapping his fingers roughly every three seconds, staring at Jesse with an altogether unimpressed expression.]

Every time I snap my fingers, someone dies. From circumstances completely unrelated to me or anything I've done. Regular people, dying. [The snapping continues.]

Why aren't you angry about them?

[dissemble]

Your greed runs shallow if you think humans are worth the effort.

[To Lucifer there is no difference between watching that museum full of people burn or seeing someone squash cockroach eggs. Except the cockroaches are quieter about it.]

[video]

[glassinine]

[Oh. Somewhat guiltily:]

I...appreciate the well-wishes, but I'm too far away. I can't help take care of the flames.

[attractedtodarkness]

[she looks somewhat relieved at least]

Right. Where are you?

[action]

[dissemble]

[Lucifer's always preferred to do things in person. So here he is, leaning on your doorframe.]

See- this is the problem with you humans. You always think you know better. You believe that so hard that you refuse to accept truth when it stares you in the face. They call me arrogant- but really I've got nothing compared to the human race.

[dissemble]

[Lucifer smiles pityingly at her.]

Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to.

[action]

[glassinine]

[Edgeworth is still staring down at his communicator for the first sentence or so of that statement; then he realizes where the voice is coming from, and he looks up and stiffens and takes in a harsh breath. But it's surprise and anger, rather than fear; though there's wariness in his expression when he looks at Lucifer, he is not afraid.

He takes a moment before he speaks.]

I believe in evidence, sir. That is the only thing that will prove the truth. Certainly not the word of some murder-happy madman claiming to be Lucifer; indeed, if I had a dollar for each time I ran into a murderer who said he was the devil, I would have a full day's wages.

[He thinks furiously all the while - he does not have anything he can use to apprehend this man - They are far from the police station...But he will wrestle him to the ground if he needs to, hold him there until someone's able to call for the authorities. (But will that do anything? The man appeared so suddenly; can he not disappear just as swiftly?)]

video;

[dissemble]

[And now it's time to switch to video, because Lucifer is curious.]

What do you get out of this, Doctor- [pause, read the name tag] Frederick Chilton? Why did you become a psychiatrist?

[glassinine]

At...my office. Why?

[attractedtodarkness]

Psycho!

[attractedtodarkness]

Just checking.

[She's been in Maurtia Falls and will be there for the rest of the week. Assignments are awesome]

[hostage]

'cause there's a difference between something happening and somebody doing something. What's happening somewhere else ain't about what you're doing here now, and what you're doing is fucking sick. And there's no goddamn reason for it, either. You're just some asshole swinging his big fat magical dick around.

[glassinine]

[A hesitation. He doesn't really know what to do with that worry in her face. He draws a breath - then lets it out and shakes his head.]

Quite. I do not tend to rush into danger. Do not concern yourself.

[action]

[dissemble]

[Lucifer wonders idly if he can use that anger for anything. At home he was really only interested in Sam Winchester- but here, without an apocalypse to look forward to, he might have to pay more attention to keep from getting bored.

And this angry, unafraid man reminds him of the Winchesters just a little.]

Luckily for you there isn't a hell in this universe, otherwise I'd give you a personal tour.

[There's a soft squishy noise and suddenly Lucifer has something red and bloody held in his outstretched hand.] How about a tour of your lung instead?

[action]

[glassinine]

[He thinks it's a joke at first. What else could it possibly be save a joke? But then he takes a breath, and it goes wrong, somehow - and there's an aching, wrenching feeling of - not precisely pain, but wrongness, that there's something...

A small croak of shock comes out of him; then he tastes blood in his mouth. His eyes go wide, and he struggles to think of something - anything - that isn't just this horror before him, of the man holding his lung in his hand, because that is what it is - and he doesn't understand how this is happening, what this man is, how he has done this -

Panic threatens to swell in him. He tamps it down. Instead, he holds his breath, fumbles for the phone; he'll need this breath to cry for help. Clumsily, he jerks the receiver up; clumsily, he pounds the keys for the police. If this is to kill him, he will at least set the authorities on the trail of his killer.]

[attractedtodarkness]

A crazy psycho just came and burned down the place. I think we can all worry.

[action]

[dissemble]

[And just like that the lung is back where it should be and Lucifer is holding your mobile to his ear in that bloody hand.]

Hello, David? [Lucifer holds up a finger in Edgeworth's direction, and he will find that he can neither speak nor move while Lucifer is on the phone.] Well, goodness, really? I'm so sorry about this! Must've pressed the wrong number on the speed dial.

My mistake! [He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck and sitting on the edge of the desk.] Yes, sir. I'll be more careful in the future. Thank you. You too.

[He hangs up and lowers his finger, allowing Edgeworth to move and speak once more.]

Really, Edgeworth? Proving my identity is hardly going to work if you're dead.

[Here's your bloody phone, btw.]

[dissemble]

[See that pained expression on Lucifer's face? You did that. Your stupid hurts him, Jesse.]

Do we have to start with the basics? The whole point of free will is that nothing just happens. Things happen because other people made them happen.

[hostage]

Accidents happen. Sickness happens. You ain't something that just happens. You're doing this just to get off on it, and that makes all the difference, you piece of shit.

[dissemble]

[Maybe he needs to post a series of lectures? "You and Your Place In The Universe" or something like that.]

You think I get off to burning down a crappy old museum full of girl scouts and old ladies? That's why you think I'm terrible?

[action]

[glassinine]

[He takes a moment to struggle, to pant, to recover, agonized. His hands are shaking. He leans down to spit his mouthful of blood into his wastebasket. Then, though he's panicked, though he feels as though shock will set in at any moment, pride forces him to move slowly, to deliberately lift a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his mouth.

His mind is racing as to how he can possibly apprehend this man. How can he possibly even hold him back when he could do the same thing to Edgeworth's heart? Or brain? The man could kill him at once, without a second thought. What can he do to get him into police custody?

The agonizing realization is that, right now, there is nothing. There's nothing that he alone can do. He just doesn't have the resources right now.

There's a slight tremble in his voice, but his words are aggressive enough.]

A neat parlor trick.

[And then he goes to his desk - not for a weapon of any sort, but for a plastic bag. He uses his handkerchief to lift the phone and drop it inside, taking care not to touch where Lucifer would have left fingerprints. He struggles to make every movement seem defiant. But he is shaken to his core.]

A hint if you're ever trying to imitate me: do not laugh. I rather suspect that they will have known something was wrong, and will be sending people here now.

[hostage]

[Is that a serious question?]

Um, duh?

[glassinine]

Indeed, we can, for the people trapped inside.

[He says that firmly.]

I will keep you apprised of their status.

[dissemble]

Do you get off taking out the trash?

[This is a serious question.]

How about cleaning mold out of your shower? Does that make you hot?

[dissemble]

Did that make you feel better?