Lucifer (1st_lord) wrote in chaosunraveled, @ 2008-10-08 19:09:00 |
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Current location: | Mello's room |
Current mood: | enraged |
Current music: | Papa Roach - Getting Away with Murder |
Entry tags: | finished thread, lucifer, mello, rating: r, setting: room 308 in niflheim |
I Feel Irrational, So Confrontational...
Who: Lucifer and Mello
When: Not too long after the trial results are announced.
Where: Mello and Una's room in Niflheim
Rating: R (I'm pretty sure it's going to hit this, folks)
Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and Mello getting "interrupted" in his bedroom.
Summary: Lucifer wants to make examples out of the two in particular who failed the trials. Without examples, he thinks that Niflheimers are going to become lax and think there are no consequences to sucking ass (as Lucifer might put it.) He doesn't care what their opinion about it is. The first one on his list is Mello, who is suddenly interrupted from some special time with dirty magazines when he suddenly loses his bedroom door.
Lucifer was beyond pissed. There was really no efficient word for it. His rage called for blood and it was difficult for him not to simply start breaking the limbs of every single person currently under Niflheim's roof. He wanted screams. He wanted the sound of cracking bone; he wanted the sound of blood splattering against the walls. It really was just too bad that he wasn't supposed to kill them. He was tempted to do it anyway at the moment.
Despite his incredible rage, he walked calmly (albeit briskly) through the halls. It wasn't hard to reach the room where Mello and Una stayed. He tugged on each of his red leather gloves, ensuring that they were securely on. He was dressed properly for what his intentions were, he felt. His attire was red and black. Aside from his gloves, he wore a red wife-beater that hugged his torso and skirted the beginnings of his black leather pants. His shoes were hiking boots complete with slightly spiked soles as if they were meant to double as soccer shoes.
He took a deep breath and his hair began to morph until it was short and black. When he opened his eyes, they were a deep blue. Lucifer could not have cared less - these changes happened so often that they were of no consequence anymore. God had cursed him to never have a 'true' appearance ever again. He rolled his shoulders back experimentally, eyeing the door to Mello's room with interest.
Swiftly, he spun around, lifting a leg and smashing his foot against it so hard that the door broke apart from the hinges and slammed into the ground. How's that for a hello, fuck-wit? Lucifer didn't even feel like smirking as he stepped just inside the doorway - standing on the door.