InsaneJournal

Lucifer had spent more time at the gym lately, perhaps a direct result of his conversations with Peggy and Hawke Sunday evening. He’d asked to take on more responsibility and then Hawke had pointed out that he was putting down roots, ironically, in space.

It had given him a lot to think about, and so here he was, running shirtless on the treadmill after a swim, trying to clear his mind while waiting to find out whether or not he would be allowed to run the lounge.

Hearing someone enter, he looked into the mirror and spotted Hawke, smiling at her through his reflection. “Hey,” he said cheerfully, before realizing she looked… angry? Hopefully not at him.

He brought the treadmill to a stop and let himself slide off the end as it slowed down, jumping down and turning to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

She definitely wasn't angry at him. It had started with something she'd read on her PADD. A post made by one of the other travelers aboard, discussing contingency plans for those labeled dangerous. Hawke had thought at that moment about giving this Bruce Banner a rundown of all the places that tended to lead, at least where she came from, but she'd been so angry when she picked her device up that she'd accidentally crushed the thing while trying to type on it.

There'd been too much time to think and stew between then and getting a replacement, and Hawke knew better than to try again. Instead, she'd thought to come down to the gym where she could wreck a few things in peace.

Hawke held a finger up at Lucifer when he spoke, the universal indication that he needed to wait a minute, then stormed over to one of the big punching bags. Her fist snapped back and she muttered under her breath before smacking it against the bag with enough force to send it flying across the room.

It hit the wall, making a satisfying crunching noise, and she let out a sigh. "There, that's more like it."

“Well,” Lucifer said, having fallen silent to watch the scene unfold. “That was incredibly sexy, even if you would be terrifying if I wasn’t immortal. Or maybe that’s why it’s such a turn on.”

He supposed that this was how her magic was supposed to work, or else she possessed superhuman strength he was just now learning about. “So, did you have a grudge against that particular punching bag or are you angry about something else?” he asked, walking over to Hawke.

"I suppose it was a bit sexy," Hawke admitted, while shaking her fist out. She hadn't bothered to put on those gloves Lucifer had mentioned before, and that spell had a hell of an impact on the bare hands. If only she could walk around with her staff, then they'd be getting somewhere. Nowhere good, potentially, now that people were starting to label others as trouble.

And that thought made her growl a bit, "No, not the punching bag, just... people on the bloody magic glass. Sure, let’s just label everyone as dangerous right from the start! No harm ever came to people handling it that way!"

Hawke brought one of her knuckles up to her mouth and lightly sucked on it for a second, "Fuck, where are those gloves you mentioned?"

“Oh, are you talking about Darth Vader?” Lucifer asked, glancing around until he found the replicator and had it produce two pairs of boxing gloves. He tossed one pair over to Hawke, then put a pair on himself. He didn’t need them, but he figured it would encourage her to not hold back.

Moving over to where there was more free space, Lucifer smirked at Hawke. “Alright. Hit me. If you can, that is,” he mentioned. “I’m not going to just stand here this time.” Throwing his hands up in defensive stance, he asked, “So that’s what you’re so pissed off about?”

He could already understand why, but instead he added, “Are you sure you’re not overreacting just a bit?”

The look Hawke gave him as she laced on her own set of gloves was the level of scathing that might have melted something. She could make fire hot enough to do that, if she wanted to... which would have been a fun thought, except for the fact that she didn't actually want to kill Lucifer. And also, she actually couldn't. There was also the reasonable side-point involving the fact that melting someone alive was exactly the kind of behaviour that the post was about to begin with.

Instead, she headed over to the place he was standing, and tried to throw a punch at him. "I don't even know what a Darth Vader is, but it sounds like Lomea only with less showboating. And I am NOT overreacting. You have no idea what it's like to grow up a Mage. You have no idea what's like to wander the streets of your city, constantly finding and having to kill Blood Mage after Blood Mage who only turned to that kind of magic to escape!"

Lucifer easily dodged her first punch, without even kicking his reflexes into full gear. Compared to fighting his brother, this was already unfair. Even so, he taunted her, “Not even close, Hawke. Come on.”

He avoided her next throw as well, and said, “No, I don’t. I didn’t make it a habit of killing people. But we come from different worlds.” He added that last sentence quickly, not wanting to make Hawke too angry. Especially once he continued.

“You had mentioned that your magic, left uncontrolled, could be a threat to us all, didn’t you? So maybe they all had a point?” He’d read the conversation and seen both sides being argued. In fact, more people had seem to be calling for chances to be given rather than anything else. But he could see where Hawke would be angry, and even potentially scared.

And scarred. Bloody hell, this woman had more baggage than he’d ever have expected. But for all that, it was easy for him to see past that. She was strong and fierce and protective and those were traits that Lucifer found attractive. Even if she was somewhat advocating for Darth Vader himself.

"Well if you'd stop dodging," Hawke grumbled, while trying some kind of kick move she'd seen others use on fighting videos. She eventually planned on signing up for some of the 'martial arts' classes offered on the ship, but for now she'd have to settle for watching and copying. For all the good it would probably do her. "This is hardly fair, you're probably twice as fast and twice as strong as I am."

"And that's the POINT," She added, when the kick failed and she took a second to recover her balance. "IF it's uncontrolled, certainly, that's dangerous. IF. That's a rather large if, and it's - It's no reason to chase down children. They learn they've got magic in any number of traumatic ways, their parents are either burned to death or scared to death, some kick them out, and either way, do you know what happens next?"

Hawk swung at him again, trying to be a little less predictable with her movements, "They tear you away from your family, these Templars in big gigantic scary armor. They convince you you're a threat to everyone you know, that you'll do evil things before you've even been given a chance to prove otherwise, and then they lock you up in a Circle. With barely any chance given to leave, even when you've proven yourself. And why? Because Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him, and every single Mage is automatically branded as the type who'll abuse their power and destroy us all. Oh, and when they get you there? The first thing they do is steal a part of your blood to lock up in a vial somewhere. So that just in case you ever do manage to escape, they can hunt you down like the criminal you are."

On her latest swing, Lucifer brought his gloved fist up to block it, showing off his speed. “Gonna have to do better than that, aren’t we?” he asked, smirking at her.

But she was getting better, and he had to work a bit harder to keep dodging. “So how’d you learn you were a mage?” he asked. “And how much running did you have to do until you became Champion? And was that a title worth bestowing on you if you were killing fellow mages?”

He watched her carefully, really rather uncertain of how she was going to react to that line of questioning and not knowing her next move.

"I..." She started, then trailed off and screwed her face up a bit. Mainly because it was something that most people would have found hysterical, and she was certain Lucifer would make fun of her for it sometime later on. Probably incessantly. "Well. I was helping mother with the cooking one evening and accidentally set the entire kitchen on fire. We had to move the next day."

Hawke followed that statement with a side-step and another swing, aiming for something like his shoulder. "Mother cried. Father was... I don't know. Depressed. I got a hold of some of his memoirs later and he went on about how he hoped I’d be normal. But at least he knew how to handle it. He did after all flee a circle just to have me, so he'd been brought up with all their training. When I was about fourteen we finally stopped moving from place to place and settled down on the outskirts of this tiny village. He taught us how to use our magic, how to hide it."

"And no," She added, stepping away from him to wipe some sweat off her forehead, "Being the Champion is all about killing other Mages. That's the point. It's how you prove you're the 'good' Mage."

She barely clipped his arm and Lucifer nodded. “Keep going.” But he was tired of the gloves and took them off. She clearly wasn't hesitating to try and hit him.

Lucifer considered Hawke for a moment. “How old were you?”

He filed that story away, but he was more curious about the other mages. “So you said they resorted to that type of magic? To escape? And that was worthy of death?”

"I suppose when my hits do connect they feel like a butterfly just tried to kiss you or something," Hawke mused, when she only barely managed to clip his arm. And then he took the gloves off, and that made her snort. Well, it wasn't like he was ever going to hit her back, so he probably didn't need them. Even when he was blocking her punches with her hand, she wasn't sure the impact even hurt him.

That was really going to be annoying if she ever decided she wanted to actually clock him one. Which was a thought that made her frown, right along with the other thoughts that were rolling around in her head.

She stepped in another direction, and then lunged forward, trying to hit him in the chest. "I was six when my magic burned the kitchen down. Twenty and one when father died, and... I don't know, thirty perhaps when they crowned me Champion. But yes, it's considered the worst kind of magic to deal in. Gets risky very quickly, and... the temptation, the power. Demons and abominations and... slippery slopes."

Which was something she fought herself, at times. And even her father had struggled with.

He caught her as she went for his chest, and he held her arm in place. “So they used that kind of magic to escape a fate that might be considered worse than death, and it was that choice that would later cause you to kill them?” he asked, to see if he was following.

“And at age six, when you were a kid, your life could have very well gone down that same path?”

He dropped her arm. “No wonder you’re upset right now. Because life is never going to be black and white but the grey is really hard to figure out sometimes, isn’t it?”

The Mage vs Templar debate had gotten so heated right before the war that Hawke had barely had time to think about anything else, even when she desperately wanted to. As The Champion, she'd had to do things for both sides that she regretted, but killing blood mages had never been one of them. The ones that crossed too far over the line, anyway. It was definitely not as black and white as some people, like the Templars, would have painted it. But Hawke had never considered all of the shades of grey it really was.

She looked down at her hands for a moment, suddenly no longer angry enough to keep hitting things, and pulled her gloves off. "I wish I had something better to say, but the reality is that... it's far more shades of grey than anyone realised. And it's complicated. The struggle’s been going on long before I was born. At six, yes, I could have shared my father's fate. The only reason I exist is because he was charming enough to win a Templar over to his cause. Ser Maurevar helped him escape, Father stole his Phylactery from the cold storage so they couldn't track him. But blood magic..."

Hawke sighed and hugged herself with her arms. "If your will is strong enough, it doesn't matter. But if your will is already that strong, then there are other ways, better ways, to escape. The problem is that when I'm neck deep in a coven of demons, it's the ones that were never strong enough to contain it or control it. And those ones needed to make better choices. Did the system fail them? Yes. I suppose I did, too, but there's a place where you go too far over the line, the demons already have you. It can be hard to talk them down at that point. Especially when they're mind controlling you to slit your own throat."

“And I hate this because now it sounds like I’m arguing FOR these bloody contingency plans.”

Lucifer listened, and then asked, “Didn’t you once say you were glad you weren’t from my world because it sounded ordinary? I think you should take ordinary. Ordinary would be good for you.” Her world sounded like it was quite fucked up in comparison. And that said a lot given his thoughts on his father’s creation and experiments.

“Come here,” he said quietly, taking a step closer to her. “I didn’t say that to upset you,” he added, looking at her questioningly because it seemed as though he had in fact upset her. “I just… There’s a lot to consider, that’s all.”

"Balls..." Hawke breathed, while taking the remaining steps between them so that she was close. "You didn't upset me, Lucifer, you just made me think. A thinking Hawke is always dangerous, because we think too much about everything. But you're right, it's an awful lot to consider. Probably why we ended up at war with each other. Even when it all resolved they were still arguing about how best to handle it. I'm guessing they just continue arguing for eternity at this rate."

She let out a sigh, and shook her head at herself. "Kirkwall was apparently the most strict of the Circle towers, too, so that has to play a role. But I couldn't just sit there and let them pull their Rite of Anullment shite either. Mages can go bad and when they do they blow things up. No one knows that better than me. What do you do about the innocent ones? Do they deserve that treatment? What if we make our own demons by treating all Mages like demons right from the start?"

“No, you couldn’t,” Lucifer agreed. He may not have known exactly what she was talking about but he knew for certain that Hawke wasn’t the sort to stand by and watch things happen. Especially bad things. “And ultimately that’s the thing, right? We make decisions. Good and bad. And decisions have consequences.” He shrugged, and then considered her for a moment before pulling her into an embrace. It wasn’t necessarily all he wanted to do, but this ship was bloody small and he hadn’t made his mind up yet as to what he wanted to do.

So he held her, silently for a moment, trying to work out why it was he felt slightly anxious standing there. Unsettled, really.

It wasn't what she'd been expecting when she'd seen him in the gym. Hawke had thought that today might end up being one of those days where they worked through one of those half a dozen boxing matches she still needed. She thought she'd end up shoving her fist against his face a few times and then feel better.

This was... different. A different kind of comfort and not all that familiar, really. But Lucifer had a way of testing every untested part of her, and she couldn't say she minded. She put her arms around him and squeezed for a moment, then rested her head on his shoulder. It felt like something normal people did.

Maybe a sample of some slightly more ordinary world was just what she needed. Not that anything about Lucifer was ordinary in the slightest. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" She was whispering, as if speaking at all might destroy something that was all too easily disturbed. "It's definitely different than being punched a lot."

“Being punched a lot is definitely easier,” he mentioned quietly, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Or really, a lot easier.”

Not that he was letting go. But that unsettled feeling grew, and he couldn’t place it, bothering him further. Like there was something unseen that he was trying to recognize, somewhere right outside the edge of his vision. Or so Lucifer thought, but that was a terrible metaphor. He could see just fine, and there wasn’t anything hiding.

It was hard to fight the instinct to hold her breath, but Hawke forced herself to keep breathing. This moment felt like they were surrounded by pitfalls, like everything holding them together was made of the most fragile strands of ice. And it hadn't been the first time that things with Lucifer felt that way.

"It's nice, though," She remarked, after another few seconds. "Nicer than being hit, at least a little bit." And nicer than never being held like this. Those were the things that she could say, but wasn't certain she should.

Lucifer laughed, relaxing as she said it was at least a little bit nicer than being hit. “We’re both bloody mental…”

He pulled back enough to look at her. “You’re feeling better right? Less likely to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting gym? Or devil? Well I suppose I can’t quite call myself unsuspecting, can I?”

"Oh I highly doubt I could actually wreak any real havoc on you, either, and it's a shame sometimes." Hawke remarked, laughing a bit. It was clear that she was feeling better, though, and she nodded her head. "Definitely not going to blow the gym up anymore. That'd only give them more fuel to feed the fire with, I expect. And I think, anyway, that they might be right in needing to be cautious."

She knew her own limits, but those were tested every time she tried something new with her magic. If something ever slipped, Marian thought, at least the rest of the ship would be safe. And it wasn't as if they were actually making a list of dangerous people. "I suppose I'd be in good company if they did ever decide to round us all up. It's not as if you couldn't put a dent into these metal bulkheads if you really wanted to."

“We’ve been on this ship for months now. We’re not getting rounded up,” Lucifer said. “Not without a fight at least.” And while it might be fun to do something in space other than float around peacefully, he didn’t really want to disturb his new routine too much.

It was almost becoming comfortable.

“Anyway, we’re not. It’s only because Darth Vader’s here that this is even a thing.”

"I think you're going to have to explain to me who this Darth Vader is and why it's gotten everyone so bloody uptight," Marian said, arching one of her brows. He sounded at least ten times more annoying than an Imperial Magister or a Qunari, and that was saying something. "I feel like half the ship threw a party only I wasn't invited, and now everyone knows about his party tricks but me. Quite annoying."

“Alright, it’s been ages since I watched the trilogy but I’ll try,” Lucifer said, leading into a decent explanation of Darth Vader’s history and why he was so scary. He concluded with, “So it sort of depends what point he’s coming from and if it’s the same universe and reality or an alternate one somehow… like it’s not already weird enough that I watched this story in a movie. Or that I’m on this ship, even.”

A smirk crossed his lips and he added, “Though if the opportunity presented itself I’d shag Princess Leia without thinking twice about it or how it was even possible.”

"So it's one of those videos, the films Castle was talking about, only... those people are here, aren't they? So they're real, and not actually a fictional... video." Marian's eyebrows knit together, and she wondered for only three seconds if her entire life was someone's idea of entertainment too, before deciding that was absolutely ridiculous. "And he might be good, but it depends on a few things. They're not even waiting to find out, they're just deciding. But I suppose anyone who's running an evil Empire bent on destroying entire planets would give one pause."

The she playfully smacked his arm, "If that Princess Leia were here, I doubt I could blame you. Though I suppose this ship isn't getting any larger, so that's always a consideration."

Lucifer grinned and replied, “Oh. Princess Leia is here. Only apparently she doesn’t use the title anymore. The opportunity just hasn’t presented itself yet.”

Growing more solemn he nodded. “There are people urging caution before jumping to conclusions. Including the Captain, from what I saw. I wouldn’t worry too much just yet.”

"Alright, well... Cooler heads will likely prevail." Marian looked across the gym, over at the punching bag. It had burst and was spilling its contents on the floor. One of her eyes twitched, and she added, "And to think, they let me handle diplomatic negotiations."

“Maybe that’s why you were always fighting someone?” Lucifer teased, eyeing the punching bag.

"Oh, you." Marian snorted out through her nose. "But... you're not all that wrong, really. It's amazing how often things just end up on fire around me. Even when I'm not the one lighting them."

Hawke ran a hand through her hair, looking extremely sheepish, "I should probably clean that up. And then get cleaned up, myself. One of these days I'm going to figure out a spell that leaves me as sexy and clean smelling as you are after a bought of punching. Look at you, you could walk right into a fancy dinner right this moment and you'd be gorgeous. Though you'd likely have to put a shirt on, then, and I would be sad."

Lucifer laughed. “You realize how attractive you are now, right? Furious then reflective then sheepish? Bloody ridiculous.”

He glanced at the busted bag. “That was impressive, by the way. And also attractive.”

"Well, I'm glad that one of us thinks so." Marian replied, smirking a bit. "Usually the reaction to me sending things flying across the room is a little more... like the smell of fear, generally. And I doubt there are many who find a sweaty woman attractive. You're a rare one, aren't you?"

She made her way over to the bag, not clear on how she was actually supposed to clean up this mess, and added, "Now you, all sweaty? Hair all wet and tangled up? That would still be attractive."

Her tone was almost a purr. It sounded like she was picturing this in her head, and she definitely was.

“It’s not like you threw that many punches or hit your target,” Lucifer teased. “And you’ll need a vacuum for that,” he mentioned, grabbing his PADD from a bench and typing into it. “There, they’ll come by and replace the bag and clean up. Not that this has happened before or anything that I know how to handle that…”

He grinned at her, and then collected the rest of his belongings, namely a water bottle and his shirt. For Hawke’s sake, he didn’t put it on before heading out the door.

"Right, you've never had to deal with broken punching bags at all," Hawke said, laughing. But she was glad he knew how to handle the situation, and even more glad that she wouldn't have to handle the mess herself. Curious what a vacuum was, she made a mental note to look that up, and then followed Lucifer's glorious shirtless self out of the gym.

Hopefully she'd get to follow him somewhere fun. "Why don't we get some food and you can tell me all about your plans for the Lounge? Now that we know you're probably going to get the job."

“I was actually heading back to my room?” Lucifer said, unaware Hawke was going to follow him. “I don't trust the mess hall here, anyway.”

He glanced over at her and said, “And until I know, I'm not planning too much. But even if I do get it I'm not going to be transforming it or anything.”

"Oh, well... that's awkward." Marian joked, looking a bit sheepish. "Though I'm glad to hear you won't be transforming it. It is rather nice the way it is. So... I'll just let you get back to that going on to your room thing, then. I can't say I blame you about the lack of trust in the Mess Hall."

Lucifer smirked. “Right. Sorry you have to eat there. I’ll see you later, right?” he asked. He was growing impatient, waiting to hear on the lounge, but he figured he’d give it another day or two until he followed up on that.

"Oh, I expect I'll survive it somehow." Marian said, shaking her head at herself and her life. "I've eaten worse, anyway. See you later, Lucifer."

And before the situation got any more awkward, she waved at him and started heading in the other direction. Her mind had completely forgotten about that shower she'd meant to take, and she decided she needed a gigantic plate of something rich and comforting instead. If she really did smell, the people there were just going to have to give her a wide berth.