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

[mousquetaire]

[ D'Artagnan doesn't speak. His expression stays expectant, while he waits for the punch line that never comes. You don't deserve it. He waits for one beat, then another.

Then he throws up his hands, exasperated - all the more so because of what the ring has done to his temper. ]

We don't deserve it. All right, fine.

So what?! No one ever said we did! Haven't you ever heard how good the Catholic Church is at guilt?! I'll tell you right now, every single person who calls themselves devout will assure you that they don't deserve it.

So what have you actually proved? All of this, what's happening. It's not our doing. It's yours. Yours, and your rings. That doesn't prove anything to anyone, except that obviously we need to keep you away from our valuables.

[angelfire]

Have I never heard how good the Catholic Church is at guilt? You really just asked me that? Okay.

[ He shakes his head slowly. ] You really don't get it, do you? I didn't project anything on you that doesn't exist, that wasn't created by man and his sins. Pestilence, famine, war--the magic that formed them, that gives power to them, is perpetuated by you.

If you weren't what you are, it wouldn't have any power over you at all.

[ It's partial truth, but to tell the truth he's weaving his own web of lies with every word. Quelle surprise? ]

[mousquetaire]

Really.

[ D'Artagnan, in reality, thinks there's truth to that. He knows he has a temper. He doesn't feel like that in itself is false; though the strength of it is wrong, and generally he needs more motivation than he's had to feel this furious with the people around him.

But that's the point, isn't it? Because he would need more motivation to feel this way. ]

Then why would you need the rings at all? If we're all going to destroy each other anyway, why not just let us get along with it? You wouldn't have needed to interfere at all, if that was true.

[angelfire]

Well like I said, I didn't invent them. In the real apocalypse, I've got better things to do, and the Horsemen are their own entities. They feel me rise to power, and they rise too--I don't even have to send out any invitations.

But sometimes... Well, it can get so boring waiting. So boring. I tell you, eternity feels like forever.

[mousquetaire]

You're insane.

[ Completely clinical analysis, done and dusted. D'Artagnan has no idea why anyone is even entertaining any of this.

They know who's responsible for all the trouble now. They ought to just be dealing with him. That would put an end to all of this. ]

Do you know, I don't care who you are. I don't even care what you are, I care that people have gotten hurt because of you. Stop this. Stop whatever the rings are doing and put an end to it, or I swear I'll put an end to you. Thanks to you, this is not the day to test me.

[angelfire]

Does God stop a boulder rolling down a hill after an earthquake? This will end, Darty--when it ends.

[ He tucked his hands behind himself. ] I'm more concerned about your buddy Athos than you. He's got that--severe, passionless unblinking stare thing going on.

Whereas you... You're delicate. Jumpy. Even on a good day--which of course this isn't. The invitation stands.

[mousquetaire]

[ Whatever anger d'Artagnan had felt, whatever rage he'd been experiencing -

It doubles. Triples. The mere mention of Athos is enough for that. Right now, he doesn't care who or what Lucifer is. The real devil? No, probably not. Probably just some sort of well-educated, zealous charlatan, like that priest who'd tried to kill the Cardinal.

But he's dangerous, clearly, and he's powerful. And d'Artagnan will not let this stand. ]

Stay away from Athos.

If you hurt him I'll kill you. This ends now.

[angelfire]

[ And that's what he intended, really. It's too easy to find the mark, and well with muskateers, that brotherly bond is as easy to punch in the gut as it is with any blood brothers.

He doesn't mock him, or roll his eyes, or any of the other things he might do to urge him to greater heights of fury, because they're there already, really. His expression is calm, but it takes restraint not to tease him for 'it ends now'. ]

Well giddy up then, Darty. It's a long way to Miami, and you'll have to beat him here.

[mousquetaire]

[ He doesn't answer. He hangs up, shoves the device into his doublet, and then he's going to find Athos. Lucifer, he'll meet in person.

All that matters to him is that he finds his friend. Nothing else is important, not now. He can't let this maniac hurt Athos, and as long as he puts a stop to that, he'll be happy. ]