matri | (no subject)

There's a barely there eye-roll. He has a point though.

"Perhaps. But at least my own only needed to be told once to do as they were told." Doesn't mean she ever made them be quiet, of course.

"Your good little slaves. Or maybe, your kids had reason to listen to you." He smiles blandly. "Would you have listened to my Father?"

"I listened to your father for aeons." One brow goes up as she walks closer, hands lifting to straighten his shirt out, dust a bit of dirt off his shoulder. She did always like Lucifer. Well, she says like.

"Look where that got us."

"I think we're better off than he is."

Yeah he's not used to being touched, Mother. But he smiles and seems to welcome it. Attention starved little angel here. "We're both out of prison."

Yeah, but do you think she cares? Just be lucky she's never wanted it enough to try and convert an angel into one of her own children. One of those 'off-limits' types. Aren't you speshul.

"Perhaps. He could be off on vacation right now. More relaxing, but definitely not the better option." Always such angry, yet muted conviction in her tone when she speaks of Him. But hey, she'll slide a hand down to take Lucifer's in her own, to tug him along with her on a stroll. To where? No where particular. Just walking. Be good, she's behaving, too.

She's not God. Not even close, of course. But she's the nearest thing to a Creator that he's been around since his Fall, which makes him feel like he's re-stoking his personal vendetta. As if it needed that.

He laces his fingers with hers, as if he isn't mildly annoyed at how presumptuous she had been in touching him.

"I never did see what happened to you."

No, she most certainly is not God. But she is a creator; one made specifically to create, just what God couldn't. Or ... well, probably tried and way overdid. You can thank him for the Leviathans.

But she is a creator in her own right, nigh on match with God and Death in their ranking, if not a step or two below. Even Lucifer would have little to no power over her. Sorry, babe. But finger lacing is more than fine, as shoulder brushing follows suit, her grip guiding him along on their aimless walk.

"Your Father decided to scrap the old regime after you were so rudely locked away." Of course, she kind of liked Lucifer's ideas of chaos. Of war. Maybe not enough to bother fighting in it, but enough to watch.

"So he shooed Death off, and threw me to the pits of Purgatory and melted down the key." Livid as she is about God and his .. antics, she merely sounds a little miffed. Then again, she always was good at playing the calm-card. All Mighty Fury was more God's thing.

"He had a thing for trying to lock up his problems, didn't he?" He didn't respect her, despite the fact she could have knocked him down a few pegs. But Lucifer didn't respect anyone; appreciating her creations was as close he got to it. There's a reason Lucifer never warped her monsters--there's a reason he only changed the things that God had made.

"How did you get out, again? All these rumors..."

"Mm." It's a thoughtful hum of acknowledgement. She had no reason to take up beef with the little Morning Star, nor did she really care to. Violence was fun, sure, but not unless it had merit. Pointless? Well, that's just a waste. At least if it comes from her.

"Much more simple than your release, I can promise you that." She even had a vessel ready and waiting. "An orchestrated dance above ground, and a few weeks later, here I am, breathing Earth's soiled air." Her thumb brushes against the back of his hand in a mockery of affection.

He doesn't mind the mockery; it's how he does things, too. In so many ways (ways he doesn't want to acknowledge) she is like him. Or he is like her--he was created after she was around, after all.

"It's terrible, isn't it?"