Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2010-11-18 09:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | lucifer, saint patrick |
Who: Lucifer and Saint Patrick
When: Friday, early afternoon
Where: The shelter where Patrick works
What: Hi Patrick >:D
Warnings: Lucifer being creepy, possible language, TBD
It really had been to easy. He'd been making his presence known and then the darling mortal had just about given the Saints location. And Lucifer enjoyed saying 'hello' to the precious Saints. He wanted to see them break, then tempt them to his side.
It was, if anything, just a way to get back to the Father who had kicked him out. He'd drag away his precious Saint. And whatever else he could. The mortal was amusing and Lucifer played with the idea of tempting and breaking him.
Every man needed a hobby after all.
He'd stepped into the shelter and hid the distaste he felt. It smelled like saint and desperation. He was half tempted to call up his favorite Horse-people and have them play with them. It wouldn't be hard. With a smile that was as bright as his name he waited. Patrick knew he'd be here so he knew the Saint would come running.
Meanwhile he took a seat beside one of the many homeless mortals and start talking. Lucifer was always good with making friends, gaining trust, and asking the hard questions. And with people so close to bending, it wasn't hard to sow some doubt.
When Neil had told Patrick that his old friend Lucas Dawn was coming to visit him, Patrick had nearly had a heart attack. But that was nothing to how he felt when he realised that a fellow immortal had just walked into the shelter.
He jumped up from his desk and he darted into the common room, scaring a twelve-year-old girl on his way to intercept Lucifer. He found the Morningstar speaking to one of the residents. He went over to him, showing an incredible amount of bravado because he was actually sure he might piss himself at any moment out of fear, and he set his jaw to say, "Lucas, would you like to step into my office?"
The Saint amused him with the show of bravado. He gave a frighteningly friendly smile and patted the residents hand, "you take care my dear. I'll see you soon." A common phrase for anyone else, but coming from Lucifer it could mean so many things.
With the same smile he rose and brushed his coat off. "Of course. It's so good to see you Patrick. It's been too long." Too friendly words as he went to follow the Saint, "say where is that friendly boy I spoke to? He was so kind to me in letting me know where you've been all these years."
"You can stay away from him," Patrick growled at Lucifer as they stepped into his office. This was his workplace. It was a place that was sacred to him and Lucifer was sullying it and terrifying him.
Patrick wished that he could ring his older brothers so they could come kick the shit out of Lucifer. Which wasn't very saintly, but Patrick didn't like Lucifer talking about Neil.
"What do you want? Did you send the snakes to me!?"
He laughed to that, "it's funny you think saying 'no' to me will get anyone anywhere. You know, last time anyone said no to me I didn't take it well?" Smiling he walked to the desk, sitting down in the chair Patrick had just vacated. Lucifer liked thinking he owned everything.
"Besides, I like him. He was very friendly to me." He laughed to the argument, "snakes? No my dear, not my style but I'll keep it in mind." He smiled and leaned back in the chair. "What's wrong PAtrick, won't offer me a drink?"
Oh, that dirty, unfair slime of a fallen angel.
Drink.
Patrick flinched and he hoped to God it wasn't visible to Lucifer. "I am not going to give you anything," he growled, trying to go stand near the door in case Lucifer jumped up and came at him. He tried to go over his options in his head and all he could think of was that if Lucifer attacked him, he could try to shove a pen through Lucifer's neck.
If he had a pen. But they were all on his desk. Where Lucifer was currently sitting.
"I'll tell Michael you're here," Patrick threatened, because the way he was now, it was all he could do. Centuries ago he would have been calm and sure. He had been a fighter then. Now, mostly, he was a drinker.
He was smiling like he'd won the lottery and casually folded his hands on his lap, looking to Patrick quite calmly. He seemed sure of himself, and he was.
When Michael was mentioned he laughed, raising his hands. "Oh no. Not Michael. I'm so petrified, what ever shall I do?" His voice was quite calm, and sarcastic. He didn't fear his former brother really. "And what will he do Patrick? Glare at me? I'm not in our Father's house. I'm in a shelter that's not dedicated, under the control of an alcoholic Saint. I'm very allowed to be here Patrick and you know it."
He smiled, almost friendly. "Come now I'm no monster. You can sit and share a drink with me," almost out of thin air he produced a glass and a bottle, offering it to Patrick with all the nicety in the world, "can't you?"
Patrick actually slapped his hands over his mouth and he backed away from Lucifer, which in hindsight was probably not the best of ideas. He had let the devil know he was weak.
But it was drink. And it was right there. And after the week he had had, it would be such a blessing to just drink. Just one.
He could have just one.
"You vile creature," Patrick growled from behind his hands. "I won't give in to you." But he wasn't so sure.
He almost laughed. Almost, because this was so, so easy. "Of course you will Patrick. You fool only yourself with this fighting. We both know that one day, probably tomorrow, you will give in. So let's just stop pretending shall we?" smiling he poured the drink. To Lucifer it was the blood of a virgin. To Patrick it might just be the best liquor it would ever be.
He pushed the glass forward, out of Lucifer's reach and into Patrick's vision. "One drink won't hurt. Will it?"
One drink would hurt. He knew it would. And still, he found himself believing that possibly it might not. His resolve was weakening.
He didn't have all that much resolve in the first place. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault; that this was just the result of his worship, but the truth was that he would always blame himself.
He was Catholic, after all.
He opened his mouth, expecting some amazing refusal to fall from his lips, but instead the thinnest excuse he could think of was what he really said. "I...I'm at work."
All Lucifer had to do was nudge him once more and he would break.
He laughed, low and subtle and set his hands on his lap again. The glass remained but the bottle was gone. He kept the all too friendly smile on his face, his head tilted like he was studying an animal of some sort.
And in Lucifer's eyes he was. Just another animal ready for the taking, "come now Patrick. You deserve a drink. You've done so much for these children already. You earn a reward," smiling he pushed the drink forward, "you really do. You have others to look after everything, don't you?"
Patrick had no willpower left. None at all. Lucifer was pushing the drink towards him and even though he knew his words were lies, Patrick faltered anyway.
Lucifer was lying to him, but it was just a drink.
Just one drink.
Just one-
-drink.
Patrick grabbed the glass and he downed the liquid before he had a chance to stop himself from utterly failing his God and his brothers by giving in to temptation. He had nothing left to fight with. He was the the patron Saint of a day for drunkards and he was living up to that.
It was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.
Lucifer laughed loudly. This was the best day ever. A romp with a tasty succubus and now a Saint literally falling into his lap? It couldn't get better.
He rose and came to Patrick's side, setting a hand on his shoulder, "see? Nothing bad about a drink is there?" the glass would refill, Lucifer made sure of it, until Patrick was a drunken mess to be mocked at. "The day deserves a party."
Smiling he clapped Patrick on the shoulder, like an old friend would do. "And while you drink my Patrick, as yourself this. If God, all Mighty Father, was really so loving and cared so much," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "why did he ever allow them to make such a mockery of you? Why, Patrick. Always ask yourself that. Why?" Smiling he ruffled the Saint's hair.
"Enjoy my Patrick. And tell Michael I say hello."