Re: [The piano bar: Misha & Lucifer.]
"Humans are more beautiful, on account of their souls and the free will that gives them. That's what makes you jealous? I think it's beautiful. I think it makes us different than them, but it makes them superior in a whole lot of amazing ways. It's the reason you reckon Claire's so fetching, ain't it? Angels came first, and they are what they are. We got powers and Grace, and folks got will and mortality and souls. I reckon it is envy some, least on angel's parts. Not just the ones that Fell. Plenty of angels in Heaven feel just the same. They're jealous, and they're jealous of His love of folks. But, then, He kills them all when he's fussed, and I ain't sure how loving floods and plagues are," said the boy who had both Grace and a soul, and who had all the power that came with that illicit combination.
He knew he'd gotten himself a rise when Lucifer's eyes flashed, and Misha sat himself back in a more comfortable sprawl. "No one in Hell wants punishing. I been there. I known your demons that have come out. I don't believe it. Could be you need to believe that, to feel better? But that don't make it true." He knew Lucifer wasn't free, and that was true 'nough, but Misha had met evil way too early in his young life, and he wasn't trusting 'bout words no more. "I believe he sent you down to punish you, but there's demons here doing your bidding. It's a war, whether you reckon it is one or not. It's a balance, and I reckon it always was. 'Fore you, it was kept by Him sending floods and building towers and sending locusts. Now, he don't got to do that. Now there's you, keeping the balance. But you do keep it, even if you're here and loving on the decedent of His son."
He watched Lucifer stand, knowing it was coming. He kept himself sitting, and he wasn't fussed a little bit. He reckoned the retreat was telling, and it let him know what to expect from his sire. It was good to know, he reckoned. He didn't trust Above or Below, and he knew now both rulers were blind as bats. It was fine. He would keep on fending for himself, just as he always done. He sat there a bit longer, finished his drink and went and played himself a song. Music, it still soothed, and he was real grateful for that. Once he was done, he walked out, melancholy but with eyes a whole lot more open than 'fore.
Misha, he was done being lectured at like he was some babe in arms willing to behave based on differing lies, and that was the one thing he was real certain and sure of.