eyemind | event } you can jive

Entry tags:

event } you can jive

WHO: Open to all passengers!
WHAT: A visit to New Ecrillion, and all the music your ears can handle. Plus, bonus new partners!
WHERE: Anywhere in the city of New Ecrillion, or Navi.
WHEN: June 19 through July 10
WARNINGS: Add these to your comment subject lines as needed! And if you end up partying literally to death, please record it on the death page.

Hello, passengers! Hope you're all ready for an announcement, 'cause Navi's voice is getting beamed into your head right about ... now:

Attention, passengers.
We'll be docking soon at the city of New Ecrillion, on the planet Zegnolia, where we will remain for approximately three weeks, local time.
Please stand by.

From the announcement until landing, to help everyone adjust to the new environment, Navi will gift all passengers with a a faint hummed melody.

Upon docking and disembarking, passengers will find a bank counter just past the terminal, where your new windfall of Navigems can be exchanged for credits (the universal currency). Try not to spend it all in one place!

Now, go get your groove on! Just remember to take breaks to hydrate.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“Yes of course, well, it depends on the type and quality,” Lucifer says with a shrug. “This isn’t top-shelf stuff.”

He downs his own, then grins at the bartender to indicate they will need to keep ‘em coming.

“And I didn’t do anything. Except maybe that time I brought him along for a sting at an illegal sex club. He really enjoyed himself that time.”

It doesn't take a genius to understand that top shelf likely meant the highest quality. Or at least alleged to be the highest quality. This was fine for an introduction, the flavor was certainly novel to an angel that didn't need to eat so hadn't quite figured out that there was so much more to experience in the world of flavors. The creativity of mortals ever did impress.

Following Lucifer's example Murmur knocked his own back, resulting in some coughing in surprise at the intensity of that burn. Does it get more fun later?

"Phew," He shook his head, trying to shake off that sensation. How odd! "Did he?" A quietly huffed sound of amusement. "That sounds like quite the tale. How did that event come to pass?"

“Well, two young women were murdered - poisoned,” Lucifer says cheerily. “The only clue was a stamp on their hands, like one would receive at a club. The Detective was able to discover the source of the stamp - the aforementioned illegal sex club! She couldn’t go, so it was left to myself and Detective Douche - that is, Daniel, the Detective’s ex husband - to go to the club and discover how and who might’ve poisoned the poor girls. I brought Amenadiel along because he needed a little fun and because Daniel sticks out like a sore cop wherever he goes.”

Lucifer, as you can see, enjoys telling stories. It’s just another performance, of course, and he exaggerates his expressions and waves his hands about to illustrate.

"A sore cop is an apt description I can already envision precisely what you mean," And the mental image is hilarious. Lucifer really seems to be enjoying himself, which is wonderful because Murmur loves to hear stories. He's not particularly expressive himself, if that hadn't been painfully obvious, but he did enjoy watching the show.

"So, how did you flush out the culprit? What was the motive?"

Whenever another whiskey arrives this one he'll sip. Downing them too fast wasn't nearly as interesting as trying to sort out the flavor.

Lucifer is starting to be affected by the alcohol - just slightly, and really it's hardly noticeable right now, given how gregarious he always is anyway. It'll still take quite a bit to have him well and truly drunk.

"Well, the illegal sex party led us to a skeevy film executive, so LA. But he didn't do it either - there was a mysterious third young woman who'd been a regular... Anyway it turned out it was the girls' sorority sister! She'd duped them into coming to the sex party, laced their drinks with the poison thinking it would just knock them out and didn't realize it would kill them. With friends like these, am I right?"

He shakes his head at the vagaries of human nature. "Anyway, the Detective got a nice apartment out of the whole affair. This was right after she'd divorced the Douche."

Murmur has not yet had the opportunity to feel the effects, coupled with the fact his metabolism was possibly even stranger than Lucifer's it might take a bit for him to feel anything. His version of Dad didn't exactly design them with corporeal bodies in mind.

"Astonishingly LA," Murmur agreed. "So this was, what, some kind of prank gone horribly awry?" Humans! They really were strangely quick to end their already short lives sometimes weren't they?

"Was the apartment somehow related to the case, or just the divorce?" He just wants his facts straight here.

"Oh no, not a prank. No, this woman was literally planning to sell her supposed friends to the highest bidder for a night. She duped them, and planned to drug them and allow them to be taken advantage of by a sniveling cretin who didn't care if they wanted any of it. But her plan went awry and they just ended up dead instead."

Needless to say, Lucifer is not impressed by anyone who does that sort of thing. For numerous reasons.

"As for the apartment -" He brightens at this explanation. "- it was the killer's! So the Detective got a good deal on it, or so I'm told. Humans for some reason often don't like to live in places that were once home to killers or the site of murders."

"..."

He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Murmur really wished he was surprised it was worse than a prank gone wrong, but he wasn't. It had just been a little while since he'd last been reminded of just how savage humans could be. Why were they given free will again? After a long suffering sound puffed through his nose and another large gulp of whiskey he was ready to continue.

"There are times when I wonder why humans are like this," The motivations of his brethren made more sense. Humans did not make sense. Perhaps it was something he'd never fully grasp.

Anyway... "Interesting, I do recall they hold some unusual reverence for sites of great tragedy and empty vessels alike."

"I think they just decided it was creepy," Lucifer says with a dismissive shrug. Obviously, the Detective doesn't find her apartment creepy just because the previous tenant had been a murderer.

"As for human motives, well. They're no different from us," he adds. "Just because you don't understand why one human does something, doesn't make them alien. Celestials are no better. My Mum once unleashed Azrael's Blade on humanity, caused multiple humans to be killed, and why? Because she wanted to get Dad's attention."

Admittedly Murmur had a hard time understanding the more... human habits of his own brethren as well. Lucifer, right now, especially so.

"You have a mother?"

Well, there was one difference. "Is there some significance to Azrael's blade that is somehow different from any other angelic weapon?" Now Murmur did seem genuinely confused, well monotone and confused as he is wont to do. While it was true they weren't always that different in motivation, sometimes they were vastly so.

"Mm," Lucifer says vaguely around more whiskey.

"Do you not have a Mum? Or an Azrael? Angel of Death? Her blade is powerful, and in human hands its demands to be used are near-irresistible. The slightest annoyance and well - full yoga massacre."

"Fascinating, here is where we've met a major divergence. No mother, only Father, and we do not possess gender, technically, but most and in particular Azrael manifests as masculine. And uses a scythe, of course. He has never lost track of it to date so I cannot say what effect would be had should it fall into someone else's hands."

He'd prefer not to think too hard on that, and downs the rest of his own whiskey. "Other weapons exist, many. Soul drinkers, banishers, cleansers, whatever you can imagine. All would be disastrous in mortal hands. If they didn't simply destroy them outright." He drummed his fingers on the counter.

"I am guessing the yoga massacre is not simply an idle reference?"

"Can't see why you wouldn't want to have gender, it's fun," Lucifer says breezily. Well, for him it is, since he's frequently fine with ignoring social and cultural mores.

"Well, it's definitely a reference. To a thing that happened with Azrael's Blade," he adds after a moment. "It got passed around like a hot potato. I believe Miss Lopez gave a talk on it at a conference, even, she could tell you more. Anyway, I got rid of the Blade when I gave Mum her own universe, so that solved that problem. Several of them at once, actually."

Not that he doesn't still miss his Mother, as dangerous and unpredictable as she'd been.

"Is it? I wouldn't know." A means to an end, in his opinion. But then Murmur, as Lucifer has likely noticed, does not seem to understand what fun is. As is common with angels.

"Perhaps I shall ask her about the subject at some juncture," Later, when everyone wasn't busy getting some relaxing in. They had been cooped up on the ship a little too long. "I see. Saved your world, and... I can only presume, started up a whole new universe? You certainly have been busy." Acting all noble and such. Really, this one is a far cry from the Lucifer of his world.

"To be honest I find it quite strange, with such a remarkable penchant for justice I'm astonished most of your siblings failed to recognize it."

Lucifer scoffs faintly. "They'd have to have bothered to contact me, for starters, at any point over the past several millennia. Not that I - "

He squints into his drink. "Well, Lucifer BC was a somewhat different devil."

"Ah, I had a feeling that might have been the case." Another round? Another round, you know he might be starting to feel a bit of a buzz. He squinted into his own drink, as though demanding it speak the answers to the mysteries of its properties to him.

Who knows, perhaps he could see them there.

"One cannot meet their best self until they have met their worst, in my experience," Sip. "You know, I believe I am beginning to enjoy this beverage. Which one is it, again?"

Lucifer sighs heavily and orders another round. "Whiskey. And that's not what I meant at all..."

Shit, he actually said it aloud, didn't he? Ugh. He is starting to feel the effects of the booze. He's an over-sharer by nature, but he's also usually good at keeping a lid on certain things. "BC. Before... Chloe."

Is he saying that he traces his emotional growth to the moment he met his girlfriend? Yes, yes he is.

Oh, Murmur just offers something of the faintest of wry smirks. He knew, but he wasn't about to tell Lucifer he knew. Of course it had nothing to do with that whole sordid affair, why would it? No, it didn't take a Seer to pick up on the fact that Lucifer was motivated most by those he cared for: His humans.

Of course Lucifer's tracing it there, it wasn't even a surprise. It also didn't surprise him that Lucifer didn't quite catch his meaning, which was well enough. He got there in the end all the same. "Your turning point." He mused.

"I already knew my worst self," Lucifer says after a moment. "Met him when I fell. When I met her..."

He taps a finger idly against his glass, staring at it for a moment. "She's always seen me as better, somehow. As good. She makes me want to be that good man she sees in me."

Not that he is. But he wants to be. Lucifer pulls a face.

"Is this what I'm like drunk? This is ridiculous. Better have some more."

Ah, there it is. Now was one of those times where it was best to be silent, and listen. So Murmur did just that. Let Lucifer unburden himself without any prompting on his part. He certainly seemed to be willing to do just that.

Drunk Lucifer wasn't just prone to oversharing, but perhaps just a touch melancholy as well? Fortunate Murmur wasn't the schemer he once was. "And? Are you accomplishing that goal?"

An idle curiosity. Should he suggest cutting Lucifer off? Heaven's no.

It's definitely a good thing Murmur isn't a schemer. Lucifer is remarkably easy to manipulate, for someone who hates it so much. His issues are like big, blaring alarm bells that get shared with the world even when he tries not to.

"I don't know," he says, honest as ever. "I know I don't deserve her, and probably never will. I've done terrible things, I've hurt her many times, she's seen the ugliest parts of me. And yet, despite all that, she told me she loves me. No one's ever said that to me without a caveat or - or a manipulation."

He is utterly baffled by it.

Anymore. He had quite the tendencies in his darker days. Granted, it was all for a purpose and that purpose was complete. The scheming and information brokering was hardly necessary anymore, even if the gathering was still habitual. At the very least, he was a good listener. Something that Lucifer seemed like he needed right about now.

Lucifer might not see it, but an angel displaying such self awareness and humility? That's certainly something to write home about. There is still a lot of grief there, to be sure, but it would seem this Chloe were indeed a marvelous influence upon the devil. The devil himself redeemed, who would have thought?

"Matters of the heart are ever mysterious, or so I've heard. At the end of the day is it not she who decides who she loves?" What's the use of fighting it?

Her decision. Well. Maybe.

Lucifer decided some time ago that it must be, despite the fact that she is a gift, her miraculous birth ordained by Dad specifically to put her in his life. He doesn't know, for sure, but maybe he just wants her feelings to be real so much that he's stopped caring whether it's actually the case, but no. He knows she has free will. Dad wouldn't have taken that from her. It's the thing that makes them all human, after all, the greatest gift Dad could give.

But still.

"We don't always choose who we love," he says. A human said that once, and it struck him at the time, and stayed with him. "But - yes. It's her decision, to be with me."

"You are troubled," He comments, finally actually glancing over at Lucifer rather than his usual somewhat spaced out stare at the walls or space in general. "What worry is it that plagues you?" Sorry, Lucifer, yes he's a more than a little invasive at times. Came with the territory of having a few too many senses to adequately keep them all repressed. Murmur can no more silence his Knowing than a mortal can stop breathing for long.

"Mm, perhaps not, but one can choose whether or not to maintain it." At least, he assumes. Difficult as the choice to abandon might be.

Lucifer gives Murmur a Look, then shrugs. "The same thing that always plagues me: my family. My all-powerful, scheming, manipulative family, many of whom hate me and see humans as little more than pawns in their game."

Well, he asked. Though that's far from the only thing troubling him.

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