Video; forward dated to the 6th

[angelfire]

[ Okay, he's bored. Where are the tumbling heroics? Where's the challenge? Lucifer is here - back - whatever, taking time out from recording his show to hang out on the network with you fascinating examples of God's greatest mistakes. He sets up his camera, which shows off the back of a chair that reads 'Lucifer' in broad black writing. The background is a handsome looking church, with stained glass windows, long red carpets, and hanging red drapes that tumble down the broad pillars. Huge bouquets of summer flowers decorate the altars and tumble out of the planters beside the pews, and light pours in through the round feature window. For once, Lucifer - when he takes his seat - is groomed, dressed in a neat black on black suit, and finished with silver fish shaped cufflinks and everything. He looked the part of the villain, the businessman; the schemer. A charismatic cult leader. Or well...like a guy in a sharp suit. He counted off on his fingers: ]

Pestilence. War. Famine. [ And he touched his fourth finger, then looked puzzled at the camera. ] Well, would you look at that. Four horsemen, not three. No prizes to anyone who guesses the last one.

[ He reaches into his breast pocket, removing a simple silver ring very carefully, propped it on his thumbnail and then flicked it. Flicked Death's ring clean into the air, then snatched his hand up and caught it. ] One left.

[ He leaned very slightly forward, speaking as though he were sharing a secret. ] Don't worry your head about it, my darling. I wouldn't dream of giving this thing to just anyone, but its multiversal owner really will have to come fetch it back before I'm tempted. To do what? Who knows? I'm mercurial like that. Sammmmy, come on out to play. It's been forever.

[ Lucifer's attention was broken by his accepting a clipboard and signing off on something on it. ] Chicken soup again? [ A nod from the assistant. ] Good. It's wonderful for the soul.

[ And then he's left to continue with his video, and he rolls his eyes pointedly. ] The fault really lies with you, kiddos. All that anger and repression, it'll mess you right up. But for the sake of argument, I think it's fair to say 'I predict a riot'. Accurate? Why don't we talk it out, hm?

Comments

[angelfire]

Ouch. How could you? It takes style and verve to pull off a stunt like this. And here I was thinking that we might be friends.

[ Except for the whole kill all the infidel false idols... ]

[selfimage]

[ this is why we can't have nice things. ]

Oh please, it's just regurgitating what's already there. Hasn't this been done before? In every piece of literature ever?

[angelfire]

People have to experience these things for themselves, in the end. Every story has been told, Loki. I mean - really - what do you want from me? Shall I perform it in the form of an aria?

[selfimage]

Perhaps you do need a friend to save you from your horrible literary decisions. Sheesh.

Just because "every story has been told" doesn't mean it's an excuse for you to do it again. [ he's waving his hand in dismissal, the other one coming up to his forehead. ] Fine, fine. Since everyone thinks they're special because of metaphors, what now?

[angelfire]

It's the apocalypse. A mini-apocalypse. Look, it's not my hymn sheet, don't get all agro at me about it.

[ Since Loki took the dismissive handwave, Lucifer rolls his shoulder, and then inspects the seam of his shirt. ]

Always what's next with you. Can't you just soak in the moment?

[selfimage]

[ there's a roll of his eyes. ]

If only I had a coin every time an apocalypse was an apocalypse just because someone said it was. It's just a bunch of people running amok, per usual. Last time there were zombies, and here you could have crossed them. You know, zombie horsemen. Less hymn-y and more you-y.

Though I suppose I never really thought of you in terms of hymn. Something that happens to you, less of something from you.

Rebellion and all. It would've been easier to soak.

[angelfire]

No no no. Zombie horsemen? It's something only my brother could come up with. Ergo less me-ey and more Lo-ki.

[ He has more, but it spoils the melody. ]