lucis_ferre (lucis_ferre) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-02-08 01:34:00 |
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Current mood: | confused |
Entry tags: | gabriel, lucifer |
Who: Lucifer, open
What: A moment of weakness
When: Night (at point of conclusion of the post)
Where: Street
Lucifer sat. No one sat next to him, no one even walked close to him. His mind was a maelstrom of emotion and thought, both entwined so much that neither made sense. Meeting Patience again after so long had forced him to remember a life he no longer led. It forced him to feel a way he no longer thought he could. Old wounds opened are the hardest to close.
The day around him was perfect; people wandered in the park together, birds chirped as they are want to do, and children frolicked beneath the trees. He watched them all go by (at a distance) without once noticing anything or anyone. His mind would not leave his encounter alone. The memory pulsed within him like an infection. He could think of nothing to calm or sooth his own psyche.
Who guides guidance? He thought, with a twinge of sour regret.
He stayed there for some time not watching or even waiting. No recollection of time penetrated his internal storm. Hours passed, but for all he knew it could have been years. Finally, daylight began to fade into dusk and a small subconscious part of his mind stirred him into action. He had things to do this night, although he could not say if he could, or even wanted, to stay on task.
His eyes rose from his own hands and fell on a shape turning in shadows of coming night. He took moments to realise it was a man, turning this way and that, as if not sure of his surroundings. On closer inspection, Lucifer noted his appearance. He had seen homeless men more presentable, with a few very suspect stains occupying the man’s clothes. He got the impression that this man was somehow a magnet to filth and dirt.
Lucifer stood and made to walk in the opposite direction, but something made him stop mid stride. Confused, he turned back towards the man and began to pay more attention. Listening intently, Lucifer noticed the man was alternating between a grumble, garbled speech and whimpering. He was too far away to make anything more out, so Lucifer began to walk slowly towards him. As he stepped closer he noticed people also making a wide berth around the man, seemingly for obvious reasons. Closer still and Lucifer saw the man more clearly. He was old, and clearly distressed.
“Help, help me please!” whimpered the man to anyone and no one, tears running from rheumy eyes, still turning on the spot. He still seemed to be searching.
“The ducks are all around!” he called immediately after, his distress dissipating from his voice. “The ducks, I tell you! I can see them always!”
The man began to grumble unintelligibly, and Lucifer stood and watched; no hint of emotion showing. His previous thoughts lost for the time being, Lucifer reached out with his mind and brushed gently against the man’s. Images flashed in his mind’s eye, like a million photos out of order. Lucifer fought to gain control and dove deeper into the man’s mind, searching for some normality. Nestled deep, under layers of confusion, he found a small cluster of coherent thought. The man was aware on a subconscious level that he was in trouble, that no one would help him, and that he could not help himself. A sudden urge to help forced Lucifer deeper until he happened across a stationary image, untouched by the rest of the man’s ravaged mind.
It was of a family, and seeing Lucifer knew. It was this man’s family; his wife, his son and his daughter. On knowing, he also saw the man’s love for them. He also saw their deaths. The man was all that was left of his family. The rest had died in a car crash, and the man believed it to be his fault.
Taking the memory, Lucifer crashed upwards through the man’s mind, clearing a path for the grief to flood out. The man collapsed to the ground, his grumbling forgotten, and burst into great wracking sobs.
“Why? Why God?” he shrieked between heaves. “Why not me? Why not me!”
Lucifer knelt down beside the man, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I too know what it is to be lost.” He said in a low whisper in a voice not entirely his own. The man looked up and into Lucifer’s eyes.
“You have come for me. Finally you have come for me! Let me pay for what I have done!” said the man, still shuddering.
“You are already paying. Too dearly, you are already paying.” Lucifer shook his head. “You know what I am, I have seen it. He has a plan. This is his plan.”
“Take me!” the man pleaded, taking Lucifer’s jacket in his grimy hands.
“No. I am not here to take you, but to guide you. Come with me. I know the way home.” Lucifer stood, allowing his hands to claps over the man’s, drawing him to his feet alongside himself.
The man nodded and wordlessly they walked. After a time, when dusk had turned into night, Lucifer stopped, and gesturing to a door, turned to the man.
“Here is your home. I have guided you here; do not let that go to waste.”
The man nodded once and walked to the door. It opened as he stood before it and a kindly nurse looked out, surrounded by a halo of lamp light.
“Stuart!” she exclaimed, a hand darting to her chest. “You had us all scared to death!”
She looked over his shoulder and noticing Lucifer, took a deep breath.
“Thank you stranger. He would not have made it home without you.”
“Think nothing of it.” Lucifer turned on his feet and began to walk away. However, the sound of the man being ushered inside and the door closing ended his pace.
Standing once again alone and gazing on the world with momentarily forgotten disdain, his mind returned to Patience.
One good deed does not change a man. He thought to himself. Nor, it seems, an angel..