Lucifer Morningstar (__morningstar) wrote in helladjacent, @ 2017-11-20 23:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !jumps: chicago 1928, character: lucifer morningstar |
Who: Lucifer
What: Arrives at the Hotel
When: Day One
Where: Lobby
Rating: PG
Status: Narrative / Closed
Another drop of ink dripped from the pen and blotched on the ledger just beside his name. His name. In his handwriting. But Lucifer couldn’t recall ever actually signing his name to anything. And he would know. He remembered everything he ever signed. Signatures were akin to holy sacrament, after all. They were binding in ways that surpassed even the eternal. And Lucifer, being of a particular immortality and witness to the moments just after the birth of the universe and yadda yadda, knew exactly how long eternally binding contracts could be. So it was more than just a little disturbing that he couldn’t remember signing his name to a –
“Hotel registry?” he scoffed.
Then a bright light flashed in front of his eyes.
“Oh, bloody hell!”
He blinked away the woozy lights from the camera flash on the PDA and glanced down at the message. Funny little thing, wasn’t it? Not quite as fancy as his newest cell phone. (It had taken him some time to get down with that bit of technology, but he was ever so glad he did. Social media should have been officially labeled a creation of the divine. Perhaps, in the future, the last tweets and instagrams of the holy would be considered relics.) The thought made him chuckle. Oh, but this device? Positively ancient. Might as well have been on display next to the bloody commandments. Not that the PDA weighed as much as two blocks of stone, but it was definitely a close second.
Dear esteemed Guest—
“Well at least they got that right.”
Welcome to the Hotel Kairos.
Lucifer paused, quirking a brow. Kairos. There was something familiar about that. Ancient Greek, if he wasn’t mistaken. Of course, he’d always been much better with spoken languages than written, but some words still floated around in his loose grey matter. Something about time or moments or – opportune? He shook his head. Then he recalled something those pesky humans had muddled up in the New Testament or, as Lucifer liked to call it, the Mortal Addendums That Allow Humanity to Completely Ignore Everything Else in the First Half of the Book. Kind of like Anne Rice silently admitting that she royally buggered everything up somewhere around The Tale of the Body Thief and decided to ignore half of the Vampire Chronicles when she continued her sequels. Or when the Superman franchise decided to pretend like Superman III never existed. Not that Superman Returns really did anything to improve on the original, but to each his own. No, no. Lucifer was reminded of something akin to the appointed time in the purpose of—
He knew it. Another plot to pester him! Another attempt to woo him back to the bowels of Hell and damnation. Just a little jab in the side for giving dear ol’ Mum her own universe of creation. As if that were anything more than just a drop in the bucket.
“Oh, for the love of Dad!”
Lucifer threw the pen at the front desk.
Then he glanced around at the décor. Vintage Art Deco meets sleazy night club flapper. And out of the corner of his eye he caught a rather exquisite collection of choice whiskys. Well, one drink wouldn’t take up too much time, now would it?