"I'm gonna have to collect my sister from school," said Lucifer as though he couldn't quite believe it. He was peering in the mirror, wiping at the blood on his face. He hated when these things got messy. His clothes would have to burn and if he could have scrubbed and scalded his skin, he would have, but he didn't have time.
He turned to look at his companion, his eyes narrowing slightly and his lips pursed. She had been his twin and that required a great deal of contemplation.
War had, without any modesty whatsoever, tossed her bloodied clothes aside and was currently sprawled on the floor, her feet resting on the edge of his bed, "Your sister?" There was a smirk on her face, then a shrug, "Aren't you fucking lucky." She had an older brother here, but it didn't seem important enough to bring up right now.
"I'm going to need to borrow some clothes." It was less of a question and more of a statement, informing him that in a few moments War would be going through his drawers to find a shirt and jeans that fit. War, for her part, felt weirdly accepting of Lucifer as family. Not that he was a Horseman, but close enough.
"Something like that," he replied, his tone dry. He turned back to the mirror and scowled (still human, still wrong-wrong-wrong).
Lucifer raised a hand, almost dismissively. War could help herself; Lucifer didn't greatly care about his personal belongings. He stretched a little, rolling his neck. "We need to do this again," he said because there was nothing like a little murder, a little torture to make him feel less-than-human (so much more than human). His lips curved into a smile. "Sisters aren't so bad." He shrugged. "Maybe."
War snickered then got up to her feet, fishing out a t-shirt that was one size too big for her from his drawer. That would do. "What you little fuck mean is, I am not so bad." Of course she wasn't, she was a fucking horseman, War. "Can do, Death sometimes has little things for me here and there."
War padded over to him, inspecting - waiting for the damage of a mortal body to show on him. "You don't heal as fast as I do, but you can come with me Saturday night, a few fucking kids go down to the Bronx. It gets dirty and bloody."
Lucifer's smile didn't slip. It was strange to him that he didn't shrink away from War; it helped that she was less than human, too, and in some fantasy land they had shared a womb. They had been nearly inextricable and always inexplicable. It was a partnership that Lucifer could continue to enjoy, especially if it came with the promise of violence.
"Count me in," he said, his eyes wide and almost innocent-looking. He did look truly angelic in that moment which was likely the greatest joke of all.
"Sure, but don't blame me if you get something fucking broken." War laughed, but it wasn't a kind or cruel, it was just reflective of what War was- that excess of blood and violence. She lifted her hand to brush the pad of her thumb along the corner of his jaw. "Missed a spot." There was also her, taking a moment to marvel at the Archangel- well, ex-Archangel, who had been the most beautiful of them all.
Those things were inconsequential to someone like War, but she could appreciate it all the same.
Lucifer snorted. In his mind, he was already broken but he wasn't beyond repair. He didn't flinch at War's touch but she must have noticed the way the muscles in his jaw clenched, a thread of tension running through him.
He tilted his head and, having taken a deep breath, raised his hand to grip her shoulder lightly. He nodded, once, which said it all. Let War prevail.
That she did. War didn't know how to communicate that she understood so well the reluctance to touch, the disgust (for other reasons, she only liked the other Horsemen to manhandle her). "We're the fucking same. You and me." Which seemed perfectly understandable to her, she leaned into his touch a little but didn't attempt further contact. "It's not the same as with others."
Uncertain, which he hated, Lucifer leaned closer and touched his forehead to hers. His grin was back, though not bloodstained, it still spoke of mayhem.
"I'll see you this weekend, then," he said. His thumb glided along her collarbone and his smile gave way to a frown of concentration. There would be hell on earth, he was certain of it, and it would be no bad thing to cultivate allies and War. War was a prize indeed. The emotions he had regarding her were confusing to say the least and further exploration was entirely necessary.