Jul. 27th, 2020 at 9:09 PM
SILAS MORETTI + LUCIFER
even the devil takes a coffee break
JULY 2nd - late morning | outside Fondante's Inferno | PG-13
The former Templar had stationed himself outside Fondante’s Inferno at a table, sunglasses on and leather bound journal perched in his lap. It gave him the perfect vantage point of Runes and Relics so he could keep track of who came and went. He had told Parker that he would keep his distance and allow the younger Ordo member to handle the owner, but Silas couldn’t help but wonder how distracted his apprentice might be with their shared past.
As he took a sip from his cappuccino, which paled in comparison to what he was used to, he jotted down a few notes on the young woman who’d just left the shop. Her features, what car she got into, that she’d left with a rather full looking bag.
To most it looked as if he were simply journaling. His entire casual demeanor was in part due to whatever he managed to scribe was in Italian. No need to cover anything up when the general populous hadn’t a clue.
The presence he felt approach, actually caused the Ordo member’s pen to halt against the page.
Lucifer could feel a shift.
Something was off, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. It wasn’t Michael, that much she knew when she burned two Bibles on hallowed ground and then found a way to desecrate holy water. Michael would’ve fallen out of the sky on top of her if he’d been around for that.
But there was something different, and she’d need to work out what it was. Especially if it had to do with the nexus and a meddling sibling. Fuck, there were so many of them around here and she couldn’t even begin to keep track of the little fucks.
However, Bible burning and a giant middle finger to brother dearest called for early morning starts, and eventually Lucifer was craving something to give her a suitable kick to keep going for the day. Bars refused to serve her this early -rude- so coffee would have to do. She’d ordered five espressos and a large black, took them and a to go cup out to the seating area outside and proceeded to pour the espressos into the black until she needed to consume some liquid before repeating the process.
Fuck, that was good, she didn’t even bother hiding the groan. Only thing better would be adding some whiskey.
Safely from behind his dark lenses, Silas watched the brunette sit at the table directly in front of him. Even from first glances he couldn’t help but notice she somehow seemed out of place; much like how a native could spot a tourist with ease. He set his pen down calmly on the table and pretended to read while watching the woman.
What an odd scene. Silas wasn’t a stranger to the velvety delights of espresso but.. five of them? The former Templar couldn’t help but wonder if he was about to witness the woman attempt to explode her heart in public.
“Long night, I presume?” he finally spoke up, a soft easygoing smile stretching across his lips. Silas was unable to resist the urge to at least prod the powerful aura a bit out of curiosity. It felt far too dark to be a witch, and honestly if she were a demon she was the most powerful he’d ever felt. A daunting feeling, though one he wouldn’t openly admit or show.
Apparently humans weren’t meant to consume as much alcohol, caffeine, cocaine or whatever else Lucifer saw fit to consume at any given time. The drugs were harder to come by in this dump, but the alcohol and caffeine were still free flowing and she could practically inject it into her veins.
At the question from the other patron, Lucifer looked up, dark grin colour her features, “Early morning,” she rarely bothered to hide the fact that sleep was for mortals, but she got just as tired after a while. A few hours recharged the host and let her power down for just a smidge. “Family thing.”
In that she wanted to piss the fuck out of family. Well, some family. A specific family member. Hear that Michael, fuck you and the lion you rode in on.
“But I’m planning on a few late nights.” There were celebrations happening, she loved a good party, “Need to keep the batteries charged.”
His mind wandered; instantly reaching to put together some sort of story to her response. Perhaps her family was here on vacation - or maybe she was here to crash a get together or wedding. The latter seemed more plausible based on how she presently held herself.
“Ah,” he said knowingly with a small nod. “At St. Verdiana. It does seem to be quite the talk of the town, what with the festivities they have planned,” Silas said, managing to keep any contempt from his tone for the time being, his accent slipping in ever so slightly, however.
He still wasn’t sure if he would wander around at all during the weekend - it was something he was honestly considering sitting out. Parker was more than capable, after all. Silas had managed to avoid the Templars this long, he wished to continue such a streak if he could help it.
The day would come when he reunited with Nerida and, well, Silas wanted to be the one in control of the environment.
With his attention back on the woman sitting a table across from him, Silas smirked faintly with amusement. “Is it normal for such church festivities to carry on so late?”
There was the absent wonder if she’d burst into flames if she walked into a Templar held church, if her wings would burst from her back as her skin was licked with flames and the ground cracked beneath her feet.
Unlikely, but Dad was an asshole sometimes.
“They do like their festivities, guess there’s gotta be something to do in little town America, hmm?” Or they just hoped people would donate money so their little church could keep ticking over. Ha, she might indulge in that. Drop thousands in a church, see if Michael burst from his hidey hole then.
Swigging a little of her highly caffeinated drink, Lucifer bit back a yawn as she poured the last two espressos into her cup, leaning back in her chair to regard the impromptu conversationalist. “Probably for the fireworks,” which made sense, who set off fireworks if there was a chance it’d still be light and no one could see them. “But I mean, really. What else are they going to do around here?”
Silas sat up a little straighter and watched her add the last two espressos with curiosity.
“A fair point,” he said in consideration. As far as small towns went, this was perhaps the smallest they’d ever been sent to. He was still adjusting, honestly. “Though I’m sure with the town’s unique history, they’re simply waiting on the next strange animal attack or supernatural phenomenon,” he mused quietly with a smirk.
He was certainly waiting for such an occurrence.
“I have to admit, I’ve been here for just over a month now and I’m rather disappointed in its.. tame atmosphere.”
“Or they’re courting it. Firework rituals at a church? Honestly, it’s like saying ‘come play with us’,” and some of her offspring and siblings were that fucking idiotic that they would. “But hey, poor churches have to stay relevant somehow.” Old religions were the most durable, it was true, but even the ‘House of God’ had to pay bills.
“If that’s all you’re waiting on, wandering to the mountains during the full moon, you’ll have plenty of phenomenon.” The wolves might be relatively tame, but there were other beasts that roamed the full moon for feasting than just those fucking lycans.
“I think you’re probably doing it wrong, yeah? Stop waiting for something to happen, go make it happen.” Humans, fucking sissy shits, waiting around for something interesting instead of chasing it. What fucking bullshit.
She certainly shared a similar viewpoint about the church. “I suppose, though the flare only gets them so far,” he pointed out with a similar disdain in his tone.
Reaching for his cappuccino, Silas took another sip. If only he could express that wolves were the least of his interests. Still, he nodded gently at the suggestion, pretending to consider it at least. It was creative; he could give her that. The conversation was delving into more supernatural territory though, which could perhaps lead to more personal questions about her nature.
Silas smirked with a faint amusement. “I’ll just go ahead and lead some of the beasts to town like a reverse Pied Piper,” he insisted with a bit of sarcasm and a nod.
“Oh, but wouldn’t that be fun,” she wondered about uncaging something from hell, letting it loose. Finding one of the hidden minotaurs in the world and just luring it to the church, watching the carnage.
Oh, but Gabe. The disappointed face, Az working over time. Bleh, just imagining those faces and their ‘Really Luci’ moments had her face scrunching up in annoyance. “If only.”
Her decision to attempt to get her siblings to listen, to work towards something she could convince them of, maybe not agreeing with her whole purpose, but at the least working them towards doubting Michael. It wouldn’t take much, Gabe was never Michael’s biggest fan, he was too rigid and dour. And Az, she figured it wouldn’t take too much, pointing out Michael’s indifference to human suffering, it was half a step there.
They probably wouldn’t take too kindly to a massacre on the church grounds involving innocent people. “It would’ve been so fun.” Fucking feelings.
He let out a soft, throaty chuckle when she agreed. There was a certain air of mystery about her that he couldn’t help be drawn to. A moth to the flame, and all that..
When she seemed to work through a scenario or two of her own in her head, Silas couldn’t help but smirk widely. “Penny for your thoughts?” he finally asked of her curiously. Closing his journal and setting it on the table in front of him as a sign that he was fully invested in their conversation.
“A few beasts in town,” She shrugged lightly, thinking of the different types that would be unleashed, the beings close to the town, ones that could be lure, “It’d certainly liven things up, hmm?” And the grin was back again, she could idly imagine it, think about what could happen.
“But I have some very dear siblings in town, and they’d be… insufferable, if anyone got hurt.” Disappointment hurt Luci more coming from Gabe. When she’d been cast out, she hadn’t given a shit about smugness on Michael, the anger on Dad. No, Gabe’s disappointment had been the worst. Also fuelled about 600 years worth of anger in her, but neither here nor there.
“It’s annoying having to think about other people before you do something,” humans were, somehow, precious to her brothers, and frankly it still didn’t make sense. They were vermin, she’d had indigestion that lasted longer than some of their stupid little lives. “Takes all the fun out of things.”
Without so much as turning his head to look around, he surveyed what he could of his peripherals from behind his sunglasses before answering. “It would,” he agreed, smirking still. There was an undeniable devilishness to her grin, even if their subject matter was hypothetical.
“If it’s not the conscious of others,” he began to say in understanding, “it’s often times your own.” Silas rarely faltered in his duties, though at times he did struggle when there was a conflict of interest like Nerida. It was very, very rare, but it happened.
“This.. destructive fun you so obviously speak of,” Silas commented, his naturally gruff tone of voice low enough that really only she could hear. “Shouldn’t one be worried of the unwanted attention of local authorities?”
She’d need to do something less obvious, if she wanted some fun, make sure it wasn’t linked to her, if she had a chance of staying in good terms with Az and Gabe. Raph was around, but Luci wasn’t so bothered with her sister, and little Uriel wasn’t a worry -even if the child's first interaction with Lucifer was destruction and carnage, it would probably be in telling with everything the little replacement had heard from her bigger siblings.
“What is it they say? Fuck da police,” she put a spin on it, emphasising a more rough accent before laughing slightly, “I’m hardly worried about authorities. Even if they could hold me, try to charge someone with ‘unleashing hell’, it’s hardly going to stick.”
Besides, she had some of the best lawyers indebted to her, owning their souls was rather helpful. Hell, she might own a few politicians too.
“Still, could be fun either way. I hear prison is so capitalistic now, that’s deplorable on a level even I hadn’t thought of.” Sometimes, being herself just came too naturally.
Even if he wanted to pretend he wasn’t familiar with the phrase, he couldn’t - Parker had made the joke on numerous occasions, that it had been ingrained into his head. Silas shared her amusement, though he preferred a much less direct approach with authorities.
Her particular usage of unleashing hell made him instantly think of demons. Which, would make sense given the vibe he was getting from the brunette. And then, as if to only confirm his theory, deplorable on a level even I hadn’t thought of — Silas slowly stood from his seat, gather his pen and journal in one hand and his cup in the other.
“Surely the cover up for killing any authorities, and breaking out of prison should you actually allow yourself to be caught, wouldn’t be worth such a tiny nuisance in such a town as this?” he asked as he took a seat at her table boldly, giving a glance to Runes & Relics once more.
“Are there not minions for such things?”
As he joined her, clearly knowing enough to know something, Lucifer let her gaze wander over him, cataloguing more than just his appearance. She could sense it, deep down, covered over with distance and determination.
He’d been a vessel. He didn’t have the same marks that exorcised vessels had, the blessings and the scars in their aura, the haunting look in their eyes from knowing so much and never tasting it again. He sunken feel that those first months afterwards always left; everything tasting like ash, fire haunting their dreams, the tortures of hell echoing in their psyche.
No, he’d been possessed and moved past it. With strength.
Instantly, she was interested in so much more than just causing trouble. “Oh, but they’re so hard to find, so fickle and worthless half the time,” she leaned forward a little, her grin with a manic edge, “But you’d know that, wouldn’t you?”
She didn’t mind tipping her hand. She’d let people find out who she was in the past, before this host, sometimes as a male, some as a female. Once she’d been a decadent Queen the had half of New York eating out of her palm just so that she could stomp on some snivelled up whiney politician. Still, that turned messy quickly.
But this, well, this could work for her.
In his own personal experience, demons had the tendency to pretend they were more important than they truly were. Any low ranking demon had the arrogance of a Duke or King until blatantly shown and reminded otherwise. It was the blatant overconfidence that usually gave away they were nothing more than a foot soldier. But with her… Her darkness seemed to radiate without the need for a show.
It was enough to make him more cautious about his responses. Even if she was correct in her assumptions.
“Not as much as you’d think,” he insisted with a certain modesty, removing his sunglasses if only to be polite. “A tool is just that, regardless of how mundane.”
A gentle but coy smirk spread across his lips as he looked over at her. “Though I’m sure when you essentially have legions of them, they become more than a little expendable...”
“Tools can be special, they can hold purpose, fleeting though it might be. A good tool, one that never lets you down, that’s valuable.” Although, very rare. She’d thought her Knights could fall into this category, some of them falling with her, by her side from the rebellion to this chaotic nightmare of monotony.
It felt like everyone was letting her down lately.
“There’s nothing more expendable than something that is, ultimately, flawed.” Demons in general, were a nuisance. Sure, they’d seemed like a good idea at the time, she’d thought they’d be her own extension of herself, pushed to the surface to corrupt and show the Heavens how shitty humans were. But more and more of them just showed how idiotic it had been. Tortured souls were still just human in their nature, filth and cloying for attention all the time.
“Especially if they literally breed like rabbits. Who needs that many rabbits? Why do they make so many babies? What is even going on there.” Clearly, someone had been high when they’d thought up rabbits.
“But then nothing is truly perfect,” he chimed in - unable to help the philosophical standpoint. He didn’t dare continue about how flaws, then, became part of the perfection because he didn’t necessarily believe such a thing. Silas had his own flaws, though hidden by his stern demeanor and regimented lifestyle particularly well — at no point would he ever see them in a positive light, however.
“I do belief it is because rabbits are of such low intelligence that they have a rather high mortality rate,” he chuckled softly, cracking a genuinely amused smile at the direction the conversation had turned - even if he was pretty sure they were still talking about demons. “Preservation of the species,” Silas said in a tone of mock authority.
“Shouldn’t you have more control over your own rabbits?” he asked. If she was part of the hierarchy he assumed she would have.
Nothing is truly perfect; Lucifer arched an eyebrow at him, oh how she could argue that. Perfection was achievable, it was just so fucking dull that no one wanted to achieve it. They’d sought after it in the old days, philosophers giving their lives in the pursuit of perfection. Symmetry, the perfect ratios, paintings, whatever they did. Seeking that one perfect thing. Except they wanted it for imperfect reasons, so that’s where the faults came in.
She supposed if she’d never coaxed Eve into free will they’d be considered perfect, at least to someone. The mere thought of living eons with that made her almost barf though.
“Ah, that must be true of all low intelligence species.” Humans were just as bad. Creating offspring to the point where they were running out of habitable space without clearing out some of the more environmental of places.
“Oh, sure, but then I might need to talk to some of them.” Lucifer faked a shudder, pulling a disgusted face as if she’d just been force fed broccoli. “No thank you, I’ll just let other people kill my… rabbits. If they’re stupid enough to let that happen, they deserve it.” She supposed she could start chaining the little bastards up, but that made her too much like dear old Dad.
Despite being one himself; Silas would have agreed with her that humanity was just as bad. He had no children, and apart from only one brief consideration in his life, he had no intention of ever having any. There was the subject of family legacy that told him he should just for sake of carrying on but… he was no longer a Templar. He had tarnished the family legacy with his choices.
Part of him was fine with the Moretti line dying with him.
“Keeping your hands clean?” he commented with a slow nod of approved understanding. “Much harder than it seems. Although I suppose it’s lucky to have rabbits that enjoy stirring trouble,” Silas continued.
“Are you here to simply watch other people kill your rabbits, or here to orchestrate them?” the Ordo member questioned of her.
“Oh, I don’t mind getting them a little dirty,” the devilish smirk was back, those excellent memories of the things she could inflict on beings, “but, again, family.” They got so pinched when she even joked about maiming people.
“Sometimes, some rabbits get a bit ambitious, and that’s not good for anyone. Ambition is only valuable when they understand the limits.” Maybe it was a little bit hypocritical, she despised when the demons below her felt like they were worthy of rising above their station. “Oh, not everything has to be about my rabbits,” no, as much as she’d keep an eye on these little pests, that wasn’t all she was around for. “Call it a vacation, really.”
It was half about reconnecting with siblings, half about raising some hell herself, at least covertly and occasionally through others.
Family.
The way she said it made it sound as though her place in Hell was high enough that she shared a certain comradery with some of her co-conspirators. A fallen angel, most likely? The subject of which was somewhat grey to him. Angels themselves were, in his opinion and past experience, utterly useless. Demons tended to just be annoyingly persistent and destructive. Fallen angels were somewhere in the middle of the two.
“A vacation then,” he agreed after taking another sip of his drink - unable to help but wonder just what it meant that Hell’s hierarchy was willing to sit back and watch things unfurl. Silas couldn’t really put any blame on them in picking the town as the next chess board. The ley lines and supposedly charged nexus was a particularly ripe apple for picking. Someone just had to reach for it first.
“I’m Silas, by the way,” the former Templar offered, truly unsure if she already knew that or not. “Here on behalf of Crowley,” he added matter-of-factly with a small, somewhat forced smile.
It’d been a good few years since she’d bothered returning to Hell. She used to get bored on Earth, mingling with the humans and their trite. Over the years it’d been more enjoyable, as their debauchery grew, technology advanced and the whole world went a little bit sideways in regards to religion. Don’t get her wrong, she missed when she was feared and reviled. But at the same time, these little shits seemed to think she’d somehow give them power if they gave her shit.
“Ah, Crowley, how is the little fucker?” It paid to keep tabs on secret organisations and all their endeavours. Honestly, the need to expose the supernatural was lost on her, not that she’d interject either way.
She knew that she could use her vessel’s name, pass things off, but oh, she was enjoying herself and it’d been so long since she’d gotten a reaction. “It’s a pleasure, Silas. I’m Lucifer.”
“I couldn’t say,” he admitted. It had been months since he heard the radical, dark alchemist’s voice, let alone set eyes on him. They still had their orders, though, often sent cryptically.
Lucifer. Given how devout he once was as a Templar, the name hit exceptionally different. His gaze hardened, albeit briefly, almost in disbelief as he locked eyes with… well the Morning Star herself, apparently. Almost simultaneously, he could feel a gigantic knot in his stomach, twisting suddenly like it was tugging him in opposite directions - which made him shift ever so slightly in his seat and struggle to draw in a slow, even breath.
He was trying, very hard, not to react in general although internally he was both starstruck and yet somehow enraged.
“The pleasure, is all mine,” he drawled quietly, averting his eyes for really the first time since they began talking — the only real tell of a reaction. Parker was going to think he’d lost his mind when he told him this story.
“And what a privilege,” he told her, raising his cup in a toast to The Fallen One. The talk of rabbits and of family suddenly making perfect sense.
She was used to an array of reactions, at least with one of Crowley’s little group there wouldn’t be the running and screaming, or stupid questions about horns and pitchforks. She got so tired of those discussions so very fast.
At least if he was freaking out he was keeping it to himself, she just casually sipped some more of her coffee and let him figure it out for the few seconds he seemed to need. She smirked slightly when he did respond, waving a dismissive hand, “Whatever, whatever.” It looked humble but she didn’t really need it.
Few people took her seriously if she did reveal it, some just assumed it a was a bit, only people properly in the know actually accepted it, and most of them were either demons or angels. Humans rarely got the reveal voluntarily. “Although I’m sure you can understand some of my dilemma now.”
Silas’ Italian accent in full-force and his conscious act of concealing it seemingly the only casualty of her reveal. He had his focus elsewhere.
His eyebrows rose in understanding as he nodded slowly, then knitted together in confusion. “Forgive my boldness but is there a reason to take such a passive stance in all this? I know you mentioned family but.. I was under the impression that you lot weren’t exactly having Sunday dinner any longer,” he pointed out.
“One would think that harnessing the power of the ley lines would put you at an advantage before someone else had the opportunity to try and seize it,” the former Templar reasoned.
The boldness was impressive, asking why she was basically sitting around with her thumb up her ass. Lucifer just gave a bored hum, shrugging slightly, “Sure, I could swoop in, claim it before anyone else did, lay waste to most of America, raise Hell on Earth.” She could, it’d be fun, for sure, for about half a century, and then she’d get bored but everyone would be all up in arms about that time she went all Sodom and Gomorrah on the world.
“And then what? I’ve laid waste to a continent, everyone is either plotting a war, which they’ll lose unless the Celestials get involved, or they’re worshipping me hoping I’ll spare their pathetic little souls.” Which was a little bit like how the end of times was meant to come.
“Or, I could wait, talk around some of those outliers who weren’t really choosing a side back when family dinner went wrong,” so to speak. She supposed that was her fault, the tantrum and ultimatum and Michael’s stupid fucking ego. “And then when I take control of the power… It’s not Earth I shatter.”
Because eventually, fire and brimstone got boring. And she was about over this fucking time out. “Guess which plan I like best?” At least it was part of the plan. She was probably still going to destroy Earth and all the little human idiots in the process, but she needed to work up to that, no point letting that hand show.
Too many of her siblings liked these worthless meatsuits.
Lucifer’s response was.. interesting to say the least. Revealing; absolutely. But interesting nonetheless. Especially that she was more concerned with her family than the town’s inhabitants. It did nothing to improve his outlook on angels, however - the Earth was their playground and everyone else was basically collateral damage in their little game.
“I can see the obvious choice,” he replied with a smirk curling the corners of his lips. For Lucifer to admit that she was intending on laying waste to a bunch of angels sounded far more delightful than he was willing to admit.
As a Templar he would have probably drawn his blade by now, selflessly sacrificing himself to uphold his vows and a chance to strike down Lucifer. If he were a more brainwashed Ordo member he might’ve knelt in front of her and offered his services.
Instead, he couldn’t help but feel like a surfer out in the ocean at peace with a shark that had been circling but suddenly lost interest. In no way was he implying or under the false pretense that he was equal in any way to the former archangel — but Silas didn’t feel the need to grovel.
“And your late nights..” he said, bringing the conversation full swing to her excessive espresso, “nothing to be concerned about?”
Humans meant nothing to Lucifer. Most of her siblings had varying opinions, ranging from cherishing them to despising them. For her they were a fleeting amusement, neither important or otherwise. She’d never killed one only because it was beneath her, not for some archaic rule her Father set that she still foolishly abided, oh no, it was her choice.
“Oh, no, not really. Humans at least know how to have a good time,” she did enjoy a good party, a little orgy here, some excessive drinking there, a nice brawl. “And I’m seeing if pissing off the Almighty might move some things along a little.”
If she could get her sword, fuck up Michael and win over certain siblings. Fuck, that’d be a nice day, she might even call it a Day of Rest and let people live an extra day. “It’s kind of hard to do all the things I need to do in the middle of the day you know. People get awfully fussy about that shit.”
It was in the pauses of Lucifer being very candid with him, that he felt that overwhelming feeling sneaking back. The realization of just who and what he was speaking with. It was a bit like a child meeting Santa Claus and realizing he wasn’t what you expected, and that you actually had a few things in common. Though, given the circumstances, it was probably more accurate to say it was like meeting the Boogeyman.
Afterwards he would need to go for a swim if only to help his mind process it all.
Silas chuckled, partly nervous but partly amused. “I know precisely what you mean,” he told the Fallen One. Oftentimes their work as Ordo members was in the dead of night - while not particularly necessary, it was just so much easier.
“Be it too brazen to say but, I have no doubts that you will garner the attention of your.. family.. and as a result the Almighty. Personally, I wouldn’t mind if this place had a few less angels in it,” he admitted. The less allies the Templars had, the easier it would be to find Excalibur and overtake them.
And Silas wasn’t foolish enough to ask Lucifer what her further plans were. In the grand scheme of things, and no longer a Templar, he had no reason to know them. “I’d offer my assistance but, I’m not entirely sure how Crowley would take to distractions,” Silas told her - unsure of the working relationship between the two.
Luci clicked her tongue lightly, getting Father’s attention was always fucking difficult, even before The Fall. Talk about a distant parent.
But then, she was far more likely to get Michael’s attention but causing some trouble, blaspheming to her little dark hearts content. And that, well, Michael always got their Father’s attention in the end, didn’t he. “I have a habit of not stopping until I get what I want.” Mostly. She could go to extreme lengths, sure, but usually she got the job done.
Brushing imaginary dust off her lap, Lucifer shot Silas a feral grin, “Don’t worry, if I happen to need some mortal help,” and she didn’t even say it like a slur, “I’ll be sure to tell Crowley who to send me.”
She might not be on perfect terms with the man, but she knew that she could snap her fingers -or some necks- and obtain his assistance, willing or not. Pushing up to her feet, she let her grin soften, “See you around, Silas.”
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