thisducks | The Choices Made [for Daily / admonish]

[ He didn't understand.

He didn't understand why they were all so mad at him. Everyone was so mad. Being shoved into a silent, dark room and told to stay there in a tone that brook no argument... it felt like hours ago. Deep inside, he was afraid for Lilith. He had no idea where she was, how mad they were at her. All of it felt so incredibly confusing and seeing the people he loved look that angry, that... scared? It left him shook to his core.

So Lucifer sat in silence, his wings wrapped around him like a tight cocoon, with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped around his knees. He thought of Sera scolding him for saying he loved the humans with all his heart when she finally caught him sneaking down to the Garden. He thought of Lilith crying, telling him the words Adam had spoken to her that made her angry until she cried in his arms, and how he eased her tears and found ways to make her smile again. How he'd wanted her to be free when she said she felt like she was in a cage.

It'd all made sense in his head, before. What difference would her knowing more make to the other angels? Then he'd feared Eve would be trapped in the same way, what if Adam would do the same..?

He'd just wanted them to be happy.

So why was everyone so angry at him? ]

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From:

thisducks

[ He has been cold before. The first time Adam playfully dragged him into the pond at night, he'd found himself shivering in the night breeze and trying to figure out what was happening to him. The exploration of the strange white places the others had created at the top and bottom of the world, where water fell as flakes and the wind blew chill. Sometimes at night, the blanket kicked off, he found himself chilly until Michael came and pulled the blankets back over him, letting him fall back asleep snuggly and warm.

But this cold is like nothing he has ever felt before. It steals into every part of him, saps the strength from his knees, his hands- but none of that matters. Not when he sees the blood from Michael's lips. Michael!

Michael moves them both, though it only takes a few steps to bring them to the brink. He catches a glimpse of those he has always called his family, the many, many eyes staring back at them. Some in sadness, some in terror, some in knowing, and Sera- he doesn't understand her eyes, but Michael will. Just as he had taken his place as the trial began, so she will hold her place. There is no hatred, only a deep sorrow what she must do, but she will see His decree through in Michael's place.

And then, there is nothing beneath his feet. Together, they Fall.

The air whistles around them, louder and louder, until Michael's words are the last and only thing he can hear. He clings to Michael with every bit of his strength, and instinct tries to move his wings to stop the fall, but there's another spike of primal terror when his wings don't respond to his need. The spear had struck true, tearing through the muscles that let them control their wings, taking away flight from creatures that could fly before they could move in any other way.

Michael will see the light above as it fades, while Lucifer is forced to stare into the darkness as it grows. The cold fills them entirely, leaving only the warmth where they hold to one another fighting to stay alive, but numbness never follows.

In the blackness, a great eye flashes open. It is vast beyond understanding, a crimson sclera and a slit of black for a pupil, and Lucifer can tell the moment it sees them because something slides across his soul, like a hand smearing dirt behind. The great eye closed and in its place, a thousand thousand tiny ones began to open, until endless eyes are staring at them and able to see into every nook and cranny of their essence until Lucifer thinks he screams but he doesn't even know-

Power reaches out and grasps into both of them, and for the first time, their light will be stained by the taint of Sin, corrupting through their souls and in turn, their physical forms.

This time, he's sure he screams. ]

From:

admonish

[ he has to raise his voice over the howling of wind and isn’t even sure he will be heard, but he tries nonetheless. ] Whatever happens, do not let go of me! Lucifer? Do not let go!

[ even as they free fall through the air he can still see the look Sera gave them before he made his choice. a small, sad smile appears on his face as he watches the light of heaven fade, knowing there are several angels there who spoke up against the decision. his heart bleeds for them because he is certain their actions will now be monitored carefully, so much so that even the slightest mistake may lead them astray.

the dull, throbbing ache in the middle of his back has him grimacing, especially when he realizes his wings are effectively useless. they are descending so quickly that he is almost certain they will make contact with a surface soon and it will be the end of them. perhaps, if he can keep his back to the ground, he can take the brunt of it and spare his twin further agony.

while his brother is a devoted dreamer, he is the sword of god, ready and willing to place himself between friend or foe if it meant protecting them. he is far more prepared for the pain that jolts through them both when the darkness encompasses their forms. however, the pain isn’t simply designated to one point, it flares up immediately and seems to reach even the tips of his broken wings.

in a last desperate bid to protect him, he tucks Lucifer’s face against his chest and covers his eyes with the same hand. the eyes seem to bore right through them, sifting through their deeds until it latches hungrily onto the ones that brought them here today. he narrows his eyes at the wall of eyes, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. it works for a short while, until he can feel the changes begin.

when he does cry out, it is with a mouthful of sharp teeth, so sharp that he can taste more blood in his mouth when a tooth catches viciously against his lip. he catches a glimpse of long dark tendrils of shadow that creep up his arms and stain the flesh of his hands as if to give his sin a visible form. the other changes will have to wait their turn to be noticed because, in that moment, their bodies collide against a solid surface and Michael loses consciousness. ]

From:

thisducks

[ Time passes, but it has become meaningless in the face of true unconsciousness. So when Lucifer starts to come around, the unknowns come in multitudes - place, time, condition, self. He is deaf, dumb, and blind, but the physical matters less when the mental hasn't even collected itself enough to plug into the body. More time passes in an unknown amount while he swims in the darkness of his own mind until finally he manages to anchor himself enough to try to acknowledge the existence of his body.

He regrets the choice in short order.

The deafness starts to recede first, going from silence to hissing to a different kind of silence. It's followed by the blindness, going from black to grey and remaining there. His mouth and throat are so dry that he can't even try to speak, so he doesn't bother-

until he realizes he is whimpering to himself as the pain makes itself known. His entire body hurts! There's burning agony in his arms, hands, legs, and feet. His head feels like it's split open and down the middle while his eyes feel like they're full of sand, scratching and badly irritated. There is something wrong with his chest, though he can't place the sensation other than the broad concept of pain. Even his wings and spine hurt in a way he has never felt before.

...Michael.

The thought is the lone reason he puts effort into trying to sit up. His hands scramble against what he thinks is dirt, adding to the burning, but it helps him get himself up. With his hand badly shaking, he wipes at his eyes with the back of it, working up tears with great effort. Combined, the methods let him start blinking away what is irritating his eyes until his vision gets some level of clarity, though it still seems impossibly dark. He's never known true darkness because it doesn't exist in Heaven.

When he can see anything at all, he starts looking through the grey until he spots something light - it's just off to his side, though until he started to get up he probably had been partly on it. He uses his hand that isn't braced to reach out, his mind off-handedly thinking his hand and arm are covered in dirt or mud, until it presses to that other thing clumsily. His fingers curve; his nails feel incredibly strange. ...Skin. Warm skin.

MICHAEL!

He scrambles, nearly pitching into the dirt, blinking violently as he tries to call Michael's name, but he can't produce a sound. His wings drag behind him, awkward in their positioning and limp, but it doesn't matter. He tries to press against his brother's chest, an attempt to shake him awake.

All around them, what Lucifer's mind thinks of as dirt, are ashes. An endless space of black and ashes. ]

From:

admonish

[ cold. silence. pain.

he still feels like he is falling endlessly through that darkness, spinning this way and that, because all he can concentrate on in the heaviness of his body and limbs. the lingering warmth he felt while he was holding his brother has long since been smothered out, replaced by a sensation so sharp that it feels as if he is being pierced repeatedly by the tips of angelic spears. never deep enough to cause permanent damage, but the cuts are shallow and limitless.

the silence registers next for him, a silence so profound that he has never heard before, he wasn’t even aware it could exist. heaven teemed with life, everything had a voice if you knew how to listen for them, but there is no such thing here. could anything survive here? perhaps they were simply lucky.

they. he did not arrive here alone. where is Lucifer?

unlike his twin he jolts upright when he shakes him but immediately collapses against him when the pain hits him all at once. something course is brushing up against his skin, fine like sand, but his mind is so consumed by fear that he files the information away for later. despite a series of ragged gasps, his fingers fumble around blindly in an attempt to seek out Lucifer’s frame.

when a hand does reach out to grab for his arm, the talon-like claws bite into his skin unintentionally. even if he cries out in pain he will not hear him, but that is far from the worst discovery he has found. upon finally willing himself to open his eyes he is greeted by nothing but darkness. logic takes root for a few precious seconds before his free hand lifts itself towards his face and finds hands. cold and unfeeling hands that do not budge when he tries to swipe them aside.

he can’t see. he can’t see anything.

frantically, the hand that was on Lucifer’s arm joins the one on his face as those sharp nails tear at the offending hands covering his eyes, occasionally scraping against his face in the process. golden blood spills from the cuts but he is undeterred, his breath coming out in desperate wheezes. the voice that follows is incredibly hoarse, his throat feeling drier than a desert, but he manages to get a few words out. ]

See— I cannot—

[ his first day in their own personal hell and he has already shown his brother a new side of himself. the angel who is known for being even-tempered and a beacon for strength is practically falling apart at the seams. the darkness is hardly the worse part, though it is still alarming, it’s being unable to see his twin with his own two eyes that is sending him spiraling down. ]

LUCIFER! [ one hand finally draws away from his face, still coated in his blood, to grasp at the air next to Lucifer. his hearing is starting to return to him, so the first thing he is treated to is the sound of his own voice shouting desperately as he tears at his own face. ]

Work, please! Please!

[ why won’t his eyes open? ]

From:

thisducks

[ Hands reach out and grasp each of Michael's wrists, bringing the bloody fingers away from Michael's face and instead, to his own. Lucifer desperately works at his throat, finally finding enough voice to whisper his brother's name as he nuzzles into either of Michael's palms. What he believes to be dirt coating his face, and what Michael can now feel, is dried blood mixed with ashes.

But now he can see his brother's face, and terror stabs into his heart. Letting go of Michael's wrists, he shifts his knees enough to stabilize himself before reaching out slowly to the face he has always known... that looks nothing like what he had.

His fingertips shakily touch through the blood - dried and fresh - until they reach the hands covering where his brother's eyes should be. The hands look very familiar - after all, they are twins - but there is something wrong with them at the same time. It's like looking at marble, but when his fingertips meet, they're warm. Flesh.

It's at that point he realizes something is wrong with his own hands. The fingers too long. Black. Clawed.

Lucifer keens in fear at the back of his throat. What has happened to them?! ]

From:

admonish

[ he doesn’t need to hear his voice to know it is him, he can feel that it is. his hands twitch in his grip but once he draws them to his face, they begin to carefully map it out, both thumbs shakily tracing the length of his cheekbones. it’s enough of a reassurance that he wills himself to calm down, taking several deep breaths and releasing them—rinse, repeat.

when he lets him go there is a flicker of panic but he swallows it, instead letting his hands drift skyward. discolored fingers catch in his hair, slowly sifting through it before finding the start of his horns. just as gently as he has been, he traces them both to try and form some semblance of a picture in his mind.

horns? his brother didn’t have horns but, then again, he didn’t have hands for eyes before their fall either.

as if picking up on his distress, he draws his hands back down to his shoulders, his own black-as-night fingers creeping down the length of both of his arms so he can eventually take up both of his hands. just as they had done with his face, he turns one of Lucifer’s hands palm up before pressing his fingers into it, fingers splaying out to trace along his claws.

were he in possession of them, his eyes would be wide as can be but, as it stands, his only reaction is his lips parting slightly before they are pressed into a thin line. ]

.. Our price?

[ it still hurts to form words, so he keeps them brief, but the next reassurance is a gentle one. ]

Here. I am here.

From:

thisducks

[ When Michael's questing fingers find horn, Lucifer flinches as the pain in his head briefly spikes, but he realizes Michael is touching something on him - part of him? - that he can't see. When their hands are together, it lets Lucifer see what Michael can't, which is their matching blackened hands, ending in claws.

Their price.

What price? ...What have they paid and worse, who was it paid to? ]

Here, too. [ His voice is a rasp and it hurts to get the words out, but he needs to. Reassurance for both of them. Lifting his head, he looks around them slowly and swallows dryly. ]

...nothing else- here. Black.

[ But what Lucifer does next is completely without thought, simply because it is something he has done since his birth into existence. He shifts their touching hands apart, then calls to his hands a simple bowl full of water. The significance of the action doesn't occur to him, more focused on putting Michael's hands on either side of the bowl and guiding it up towards his mouth to drink. ]

From:

admonish

Cold and empty.

[ he doesn’t trust his legs enough to try and stand up yet, so he leans forward to tip their foreheads together briefly and savor what little warmth he can feel radiating off of him. it gives him time to try and gather his thoughts, to figure out where they are meant to go from here.

if it is as desolate as Lucifer makes it out to be, then they are well and truly trapped in this prison of darkness. if he is unable to see any lingering danger, then how is he supposed to protect him? his sword is sticking out of the ash nearby, looking just as dark and twisted as he is. he may not be able to see it but Lucifer can—a single eye now sits at the base of the blade and, if noticed, it actually shifts to notice him right back and stares ahead unblinking.

glancing off to one side, his claws dip into the ash and steal a handful of it, allowing it to sift through his fingertips. it isn’t sand, the consistency is nothing like it.

so, even if he could see, he would still be looking into darkness. that isn’t the slightest bit reassuring, especially knowing his twin looks upon it alone. ]

Describe, please.

[ when his fingers latch onto the bowl he tilts his head a bit, trying to figure out what he is touching. when the rim of the bowl touches his lips, he only accepts a meager mouthful of water before trying to push it towards him.

he needs it more, he thinks, but he also knows he wouldn’t have taken a drink himself if he didn’t at least sip from it. swallowing it feels uncomfortable, he notices the way the ash catches against his throat but works through it.

after taking the drink, his voice is a bit clearer. ]

Can you.. move? Are you hurt?

From:

thisducks

[ He really does need the water and drinks a heavy swallow first, coughing as the dust in this throat catches and starts to clear, but he follows it with another as if his body suddenly remembers it's desperate for the liquid. The bowl ends up completely drained before he knows it, gasping and panting slightly from the long swallowing. The request from Michael hasn't been forgotten, but he does refill the bowl before putting it more firmly into Michael's lap with the silent command of 'now you'.

The question is a difficult one, but he decides to answer that first because he knows it must be worrying Michael's mind. Not that the answer is going to really help. ]

Everything hurts. [ There's a rough edge in Lucifer's voice that isn't from emotion, but as if his throat or maybe his vocal chords have been hurt. He has no conscious memory of how long he had screamed, or when he finally passed out. ] I haven't tried to move very much, but my knees feel like jelly.

[ He looks around them slowly, rubbing his forearm over his face. Everything hurts. Everything itches. He feels filthy from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. ]

...what do you want me to describe?

From:

admonish

[ michael has never been one to refuse him before and does not intend to start now, so his fingertips grip the edge of the bowl to allow him to take another drink of water. he does not finish the bowl, instead cradling it to himself as he looks in various directions. his eyesight might be gone but his hearing is not, he is listening for something. anything that might give him a clue.

everything hurts.

somehow, that cuts even deeper than the spear that effectively crippled their wings. he wants to comfort him, to gather him up into his arms and tell him that everything will be fine once they wake up—but no, this nightmare is real. nonetheless, if given the same choice knowing what he knows now, he would still make the same decision. the idea that his brother could have ended up here alone is horrifying.

eventually he nods, attempting to pass the bowl back to him but it falls, spilling the water onto the ashes between them. his hand reaches out to find it on the ground, never quite coming close enough to touch it. but his fumbling has disturbed a pile of ash just enough to reveal the edges of a tarnished halo. its twin resides roughly a foot away, the color of the finish rivaling the barren landscape around them. ]

Yes, it is the same for me. We should not move until we have recovered, or at least until we figure out what we are going to do.

[ appearing to consider something for a moment, he hums. ]

What has changed? Not in the landscape, but on our forms. The spear crippled our wings, undoubtedly to stop us from attempting to fly back.

From:

thisducks

[ What's unnerving is that Michael hears... nothing. Even outside in Heaven, there would be some kind of sound. The lazy breeze, a soft shuffle of tree leaves, a rustle of grass, a soft song on the air, but here, there is dead silence. Not even so much as a breeze to stir the ashes. It truly is nothing.

As Lucifer tries to rescue the bowl, turning it back upright before ashes can get into it as he has no doubt they're going to need to get clean, drink more... clean Michael's self-made wounds. It's just long enough for him to catch sight of something solid among the ashes, his brows knitting together as he reaches for it. In the silence, it's easy to pick up Lucifer's quiet gasp of shock as he lifts the ring of metal from the ashes.

His eyes lift above Michael's brow, then back down to the metal in his hand, before he's suddenly doing his best to lean over and scrape his fingertips through the ashes. Piece by piece, he finds more of it and Michael will hear it - the motion of Lucifer's fingers in the ash, the faint ping of metal on metal more than once, Lucifer's attempts to hold back sobs. Eventually though, he stops, and so do most of the sounds, but the tiny sobs have turned to the shaky breathes of someone trying with all of his might not to cry.

It only takes two words of explanation, but they hold a terrifying concept. ]

...o-our halos...

[ The fallen, blackened pieces of each pair, lying in a pile in his lap. ]

From:

admonish

[ uncaring of whether the ash will stain his clothing or not, he follows his quivering voice and leans forward to quietly pull him into an embrace. a hand finds his hair, those claws running through it with a surprising bit of gentleness.

broken halos were just that, already broken, so he is less willing to pay them any mind when the person in front of him is still whole but just as fragile. all it would take is one moment of grief for him to fall into despair. he is not willing to let that happen. while cradling him, he murmurs quietly. ]

Are no more. As long as you are here with me, I do not need one.

[ but what they do need is a plan of attack. he vows to give him a few more minutes to grieve before pressing the matter. crying will get them nowhere here, he has to remain resilient for him no matter how thoroughly the pain attempts to overwhelm him.

the soundless void around them is already threatening to devour them it seems. perhaps their punishment is still yet to come and this is simple the first step in its enactment, an appetizer. no matter how he tries to look at it, he is unable to shake the feeling of dread. ]

Broken halos will do nothing for us here but bring about more pain.

From:

thisducks

[ Inside, he knows he has to be brave and that he can't let himself shatter, even if his body feels like it already has. If he isn't, he knows what Michael will do. He'll try to take all the burden, emotional and otherwise, to try and protect him from more pain. ...it's his fault they're both here. The guilt hangs like a millstone around his heart, but it also forces him to take a deep breath in Michael's arms. ]

...There are hands covering your eyes, hands that look like ours... ours did before. From the center of your brow, there are things... feathery things that come together like a V. On either cheek is a red circle, almost at the corners of your mouth. ...both of us... have black skin on our arms and hands, and c-claws. [ With everything in him, he is trying to keep his voice steady, being Michael's eyes while his brother cannot see. He has yet to bear witness to what has become of their wings, their legs, or what lies limp in the ashes behind each of them. ]

...what are we? [ Just a whisper, more to himself than Michael. ]

From:

admonish

Manifestations of our sins, undoubtedly. As if being turned away from the light was not punishment enough. Father stopped speaking to me shortly after the conclusion of the trial, not hearing his voice now is not so strange.

[ he sounds so calm and firm in his beliefs as he flexes his claws experimentally, using the tip of his thumb to prod at one of the tips. ]

We are enemies of Heaven.

[ short, sweet and to the point, he has never been one to mince words and, considering where they are now, starting now seems pointless. he exhales a shaky breath before planting one of those claws into the ashes so he can gradually push himself to his feet. it’s rather like watching a fawn try to finds its feet for the first time, and he nearly falls, but catches himself at the last minute.

a black tail that has gone unnoticed twitches to life behind him, brushing up against Lucifer’s shoulder as he looks in either direction, head tipped off to the side—he is listening for things but, again, hears nothing. that means there is no threat for the time being, so he takes a precautionary step forward and notices his feet feel strange. no matter, he can deal with that later.

his wings drag uselessly behind him as he walks the short distance away to reclaim his sword, something he was able to sense rather than see, then returns to his brother’s side. he is still frowning when he looks down towards him but smiles when he extends a claw out for him to take. ]

Take your time, if you can stand. I have you.

From:

thisducks

[ Enemies...? Can that really be true? Could the people he has known and loved all of his life really now consider them an enemy? Michael's attempt to stand takes his mind off that confusing and he lifts his hands, ready to catch his brother if he falls, but somehow Michael manages it. His brother has always been strong, stronger than anyone. Of course he would be-

As Lucifer's gaze starts to follow Michael's body down to his legs, he isn't surprised to see the black begin partway down his brother's thighs through what remains of his robes. After all, he has the same burning in his own legs that he does in his arms, so it makes sense. However, before he gets to acknowledge the full measure of the changes, something touches his shoulder.

So, naturally, he screeches.

Scrambling in the ashes, bits of their halo spilling from his lap, he tries to get back from whatever had touched him-

Only to find nothing at all.

His heart racing, Lucifer stares wide-eyed at the whole lot of nothingness, then lets out a whine. ]

Something touched me! ...But there's nothing...?

From:

admonish

Stay down.

[ as polite as he usually is, the snarl in his voice should be enough for him to understand he isn’t asking him to. he is telling him to.

the move he makes next is purely out of instinct. he whirls around in place, claws biting into the grip of his sword, with his feet planted firmly as if he is expecting a fight. both of them are still disoriented from the fall, it’s perfectly reasonable to think they may have missed something hiding in the darkness.

unfortunately, this also means that when he turns around, the mysterious perpetrator flicks out for a second and catches against his other shoulder. fanning his wings out would only add to his imposing aura, but the sword more than makes up for it. rather than holy flames licking against it, the flames that erupt from it are now an unnatural and eerie shade. still, at least it illuminates the area for them for the first time.

when nothing launches an attack, he glances over his shoulder to Lucifer as if checking on his welfare. this time he notices the feeling of something brushing against his leg so a hand flies out to catch it and squeeze to deliver a warning. when he tugs roughly on it, he lets out a sharp hiss.

whatever this is? it is attached to him, much like the hands. carefully, he holds the tail out for him to inspect for himself. ]

There is no danger here, it was this.

From:

thisducks

[ It isn't the sight of the flames that unnerves Lucifer, but their appearance. Over the millennia, of course he's seen his brother summon the holy fire that had burned bright within him. That beautiful golden color, a silvery sheen at its core like the blade that has always been a part of Michael's soul. But now... they're a color like he's never seen before, something bewitching and angry in a way he can't put a finger on.

When Michael holds out the appendage, Lucifer takes it in hand and studies it warily. It looks like a whip - thin, black, until it flares out at the tip and becomes very strange. He can feel what he guesses is solid bone running through the middle, making it strong from the dip of the V to the tip, but the wings to either side aren't the same. It feels like... like... it takes him a few seconds to realize, but it reminds him of his ear.

Which, when he reaches up to touch and compare, he realizes is also not the same. Instead of a smooth curve, it goes out to a point, hidden back in his hair. In the grand list of changes, it's a small one, but it just adds to the dysmorphia happening in his brain. Michael would hear the faint sound of distress before Lucifer drops his hand from his ear, the tail from his hand, and turns around. ]

...Oh. Looks like- I have one too. [ Trying so hard to sound calm about that, even though he doesn't feel calm in the slightest. Be strong. For Michael.

But from the changed position, he finally gets a look at down his legs.

Be strong be strong be strong be strong be strong.

There are horrific red hooves where his feet should have been - and a glance to his brother says they match in that, too - and his ankle looks like it's entirely wrong with little weird hooks on the back. When he tries to wiggle his toes, the hoof somewhat splits apart in the middle, then curves over when he tries to squeeze. ]

So we're monsters.

From:

admonish

We are twins, after all.

[ it’s meant to reassure him and his tone is softer. he can hear the fear creeping up in his voice again but knows there is little he can do to soothe it other than be there. kind words would be wasted right now, they need to find the center of whatever this abyss is.

when he brings up being a monster he reaches one of his hands out to grasp for him again and, upon doing so, he gently rubs at his shoulder. he knows what his pain level is like, so he is trying his best not to exacerbate anything unnecessarily. ]

We are brothers first and foremost, Lucifer, how we appear on the outside will never change that. You haven’t a monstrous bone in your body, if you believe that now then they have truly crushed your spirit. We are in a dark place, yes, but losing hope now would be detrimental for the both of us.

[ hearing the flames roar to life on his blade, he turns and holds it out in front of them like a torch. ]

Can you see anything now? I will light the way. If we stay where we are, I think we will be in poorer shape than we already are. If there is nowhere to seek shelter, we will create one.

If you can have faith in nothing else, let it be in me and my words.

From:

thisducks

[ If he could have faith in nothing else. Everything else... was gone, but Michael is still with him. Still strong, stronger than he can hope to be. Hasn't that always been the way, though? Hoping he could be as strong as his brother? Now, Michael needs him to be his eyes.

But just before he goes to stand, his fingers catch against the metal in the ashes. He looks at the pieces of their halos, partly in his lap, partly in the ash, and while Michael's words about them no longer being worth anything, something still urges him to scoop up the pieces. It takes some effort to tie pieces of his robe together enough to match a little satchel, but the tiny pieces go into that.

Without a better way to carry them, and given their size, he actually puts both of the partial circles around his neck.

Only then does Lucifer brace his hands against the ground and work himself up on the strange new feet, shuffling against the soft ash but keeping himself up. It feels strange, but then everything else does. Strange or in pain. His head swims with it, the tension creeping down his neck. He reaches out and takes Michael's hand in his. ]

You light it- I'll see.

[ I believe in you. With a squeeze of his brother's hand, they'll start off into the nothingness together. ]

From:

admonish

[ he can hear the way the shattered pieces of their halos clink together as Lucifer gathers them up again but, rather than chide him about being sentimental at a time like this, he waits patiently for him to gather up the pieces and rise to his feet.

for his troubles, his twin receives a small smile just before he takes his hand. he gives it a squeeze to reassure the both of them before holding out the sword to light their way. the pain in his limbs has begun to dull enough that he is steady on his feet, so he glances off to the side where he knows his brother is waiting. ]

Lean on me if you feel any weakness, I can support the both of us now if necessary. The ache, I believe, is only temporary. If you find yourself tiring out, I will carry you.

[ it’s something he has done in the past, after all, hoisting him up into his arms or onto his back when he fell asleep somewhere awkward and was too tired to get back in his own steam. he knows he is capable of doing this with his own power but old habits are hard to break. ]

When we find a shelter, you should get some rest. I may not be able to use my eyes, but I can hear as clearly as ever. I will take the first watch once we find our way out of.. this.

[ he draws one leg up to scuff at the ashes, then resumes walking. ]

Everything has an end, we simply have to find it.

From:

thisducks

Let us find what we will find first, and then decide what to do. [ Lucifer's voice is quiet, but there's a determination beneath his words. He already cost his brother so much, more than he ever could have imagined to be the price of his actions; he won't be his brother's weakness now, when they are both hurting, unfamiliar with these bodies, or what has changed in their gifts. Those orange flames flicker like an active reminder that so much has changed. ]

...I hope so.

[ Lucifer looks out at the sea of nothing and presses his lips together uncertainly. He really does hope so.

However, it doesn't take them long to discover a problem - their wings. With them damaged, their bodies not holding them as they should be, they're heavy. They're partly dragging in the ashes, leaving odd tracks that erase their foot- hoofprints as they go. The crimson color is visible even through the ash that is rapidly coating the outside white, turning them ash-grey, but Lucifer isn't complaining. Instead, he's watching. Searching.

Nothing, yet. ]

From:

admonish

It was not a suggestion, I know you are in pain.

[ you—he makes no reference to his own pain because, in his mind, it pales in comparison to what Lucifer is feeling right now. his pain is physical only, he has no regrets about the choice that he made but he knows his twin does. eyes are unnecessary to see that kind of pain, he can almost feel it radiating off of him. ]

If nothing is there, then we will create something. I have everything that I need with me right now. You.

[ something he doesn’t need right now is to be dragged down by the wings hanging limply behind him. while Lucifer is busy thinking, Michael grabs ahold of one of his own wings and stretches it out, head craned off to one side as if he were examining it.

his fingers are carefully mapping out an edge. the end result is a deep frown as he thinks aloud: ]

If they are going to maintain this state, perhaps it would be wise to remove them. [ is he.. looking at his sword right now? he can feel the heat of the flame on his face. surely his brother knows he does not make suggestions lightly, at least he hasn’t actively tried to execute his plan yet. ]

If we cannot fly, they are useless here.

From:

thisducks

[ Michael... Within him, he can feel his heart contract and grow at his brother's words and protectiveness, making him draw his fist up to press over where it resides within. ]

That's why we will do this together. [ Michael has become the defender of the light inside of him, keeping alight what should have snuffed within the ashes of the nothing. He needs his brother more than anything else, and whatever he must do to keep Michael with him, he will.

That doesn't mean he won't argue with him, because Lucifer chokes at Michael's suggestion. ]

Brother, no! We'll heal, it just takes time! [ The mere idea of Michael without his beautiful wings, the concept of slicing off what has been a part of them since their creation... it makes Lucifer gag at the back of his throat at the horror of it. ] We can not do anything foolish now that we will regret later!

From:

admonish

That is why I came with you, yes. Who else will tuck you in again when your blankets slip? I take all of my duties seriously, including that one.

[ he gently nudges him with his shoulder, shooting him a smile he might recognize. even in moments where he was frustrated, Lucifer always had a way to pull him out of his thoughts. even when he is practically sputtering at something that was a mere suggestion. ]

I can hardly be blamed for my thoughts wandering when we are wandering through what evidently equates to a wasteland. Even if I chose to do so, it would not be here and now. I am not accustomed to feeling so.. powerless.

[ but he does nod, turning his attention back to the area ahead of them. if it upsets him that much, he makes a note to never bring up such a thing again. ]

Forgive me for startling you. It was not my intention.

From:

thisducks

And you call me a brat. [ The familiar smile eases the tightness around Lucifer's heart from that horrific suggestion, the tension leaving on a slow breath out through his nose.

He lifts his gaze to the nothingness and decides something all at once. If this is nothing, then he can make it something. Something is better than nothing. All those endless times told to stop, don't cause trouble, not now, look what you've done, pull your head from the clouds...

None of them are here to stop him, ever again. Only his brother remains as a link to keep him grounded. ]

...Forgiven. [ But the tone in Lucifer's voice hints that his mind is focused on something else and he blurts it out all at once. ]

There's nothing out here, Michael- then I'll make something out here. Whatever we want. I'll recreate Eden itself if I want- [ He moves to stand in front of his brother, his voice determined. Challenging? Challenging Heaven. ]

We decide what we want our new home to be, and I want it to be something amazing.