[Lucifer had never before been the sort to feel compassion, and he wasn’t about to start now. But, here he was, compelled to do something nice. What was wrong with him? But after being granted more insight to how Riley and Reeve were treated as Angrboða and Jörmungandr (he didn't know the other two well enough to be affected) he could feel the rage inside him bubble over. Followed by the distinct need to do something so very unlike him. Verbally, physically, it didn't matter--he just wanted it to be good. But what did that mean? And how did one do anything nice or good?
Initially there had been something for Reeve to read, but no sooner had it been posted it had been erased. And so this continued for hours. Something would come up and then be removed before the message could be read. Lucifer being frustrated and frantic, pacing the room, screaming at inanimate objects, tugging at his hair and chewing on the ends of his fingernails. Then, finally, he completes one sentence. And it stays.]
[Filter: Reeve/Jörmungandr] I appreciate you.
[And he felt stupid for saying it.
But it had stirred up a mess of thoughts and emotions. Had he been set up to fail? Had it been a plan all along? Had the Father created him and twisted him so that he would fulfill what He wanted? Lucifer wondered how things would have been if he had not been pushed to fight. How was any of this fair?]
[Filter to Michael] Am I a child? Do you think me a fool for believing that I was worth more than a lifetime of servitude and thankless devotion?
He did not love me. He did not love any of us. We were merely pawns used for His own greater good; a greater good that benefited only the mortals he created after us. I finally watched Dogma last week. I wish He were Alanis Morrisette. And if all is according to His plan, then where is the fairness in His actions and in allowing us to do as we do? He allowed for me to be condemned to an existence of suffering.
He created me so that He could destroy me.
How can you remain loyal to a God that does that to His own children?
Why do I continue to respect Him in my writing. It should be him. him him him him him.
You should have fought with me. I hate you for never believing in me, following me, protecting me.
[Public] I need something to do.
And do refrain from your usual quips and insults, I haven't the time for them.