Re: Down: Lucifer / Misha
Misha, he tended to blame his momma's mental unwellness for his own problems. His doctors, they'd always said it was hereditary, and Misha reckoned could be that was true. Who knew what kind of madness a fallen angel could pass on? See, the thing with fallen angels was that they went mad as hatters. Their Grace was gone, and angels didn't possess no souls to speak of. He wasn't sure if the original fallen kept his Grace, so he wasn't sure if his daddy had some yet, but he knew angels like his momma and Nilus didn't, and that was why madness ate at them like a thing with fangs. Misha, he had Grace and soul both, but he was real prone to melancholy.
But he wasn't expecting his daddy to want to talk 'bout how badly he, Misha, had mussed up things with the dreamers, and Misha tugged at the end of the cushion he was perched on. Long fingers fidget-pulled, and leastways he kept them from tucking 'tween his lips reassuring how they did often. "The woman was hurting. I tried to help, and it was the wrong thing," he admitted, and he looked on up at his daddy. "What's the point in all this power if I get it wrong so damn often?" he asked.