Sandal "sounds fake but ok" phon (
melancoffeea) wrote in
nexuses2018-03-17 04:47 pm
Entry tags:
can't a man have some coffee in peace
[The thread that connects him to the supreme primarch's power has unraveled, taking with it his wings. Rent of what makes him an archangel, he's no better than a human with a purpose thrust unto him by a weakened witch. All in all, the whole situation reeks of nonsense.
Indolence won't help his brooding any. Sandalphon tours the city instead, pointedly taking the less populated path. Even then, too many people approach him with their wares and saccharine smiles, and he rebuffs each one with a single-word response. It's not soon enough when he slips into a shop that smells faintly of coffee, hoping for some peace and quiet.
But even here, the employees jump at every person to come around. Sandalphon grits his teeth in reflex annoyance when a rehearsed greeting and a request for an order is thrown his way. He hadn't intended to buy anything. Still, he can't just turn around and leave.]
Fine. Give me coffee.
[That unleashes a whole new can of beans. Regular or decaf? Perhaps a mocha, a latte, or a cappucino? And what about ice?
Does any of this matter? No one makes coffee like Lucifer. It hasn't been more than two hours, and Sandalphon wants to quit Shehui.]
That doesn't matter to me. Make what you want.
[At the very least, the service is quick—too quick. Sandalphon eyes the cup in his grasp with mild suspicion. What's with the lid?]
Indolence won't help his brooding any. Sandalphon tours the city instead, pointedly taking the less populated path. Even then, too many people approach him with their wares and saccharine smiles, and he rebuffs each one with a single-word response. It's not soon enough when he slips into a shop that smells faintly of coffee, hoping for some peace and quiet.
But even here, the employees jump at every person to come around. Sandalphon grits his teeth in reflex annoyance when a rehearsed greeting and a request for an order is thrown his way. He hadn't intended to buy anything. Still, he can't just turn around and leave.]
Fine. Give me coffee.
[That unleashes a whole new can of beans. Regular or decaf? Perhaps a mocha, a latte, or a cappucino? And what about ice?
Does any of this matter? No one makes coffee like Lucifer. It hasn't been more than two hours, and Sandalphon wants to quit Shehui.]
That doesn't matter to me. Make what you want.
[At the very least, the service is quick—too quick. Sandalphon eyes the cup in his grasp with mild suspicion. What's with the lid?]

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This whole occasion sounds like something loved ones ought to be doing for each other every day, if someone were to ask him. At the same time, he supposes that he can understand the desire to show greater appreciation for the other party. A small moment to step back and recognize what is . . .
Briefly, he notes that he has nothing to give Lucifer, then dismisses the thought. Archangels don't observe such holidays. They merely observe, in a different definition of the word.]
Judging by the stalls, it looks like that holds true for this culture as well.
[No Santa Claus yet, but potential gifts are everywhere.]
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[This is such a nerdy thing that only he cares about, but it's fascinating. It wasn't even his job to watch over this place, but he'd spent his whole life just— watching. Everything. So it's hard not to make the comparisons.]
The feeling is similar, too. It's different from when we first arrived here.
[Even now, as it was getting later, the streets were still busy with people hurrying about, finishing up any last minute business for the night. But it wasn't just that they were busy—it's that they were busy for the sake of making others happy. Somehow, you could just— feel that.]
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They're fortunate that no one has yet to cause a scene over Lucifer, Sandalphon thinks as his gaze drifts to a stall selling a wide variety of baubles. None of the wares catches his eye, but he'd have to be blind to miss the jovial mood among vendors and patrons alike.]
It's certainly festive. I wonder . . . What is it that drives humans toward such events?
[Mortal whimsy? Or perhaps a sense of yearning? Whatever it is, it's a facet of evolution that he's yet to properly grasp.]
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[Who didn't like having an excuse to celebrate, tbh—
But even though it's easy to explain why others might care, he can't quite explain why he would. Did he care? Probably not. It wasn't like he'd ever properly celebrated before. There was no need for them to. And yet...]
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In any case, all of those reasons are rooted in the intangible. At the very least, religion can be traced back to a significant historical event. He can't criticize this much; the Sky Realm's creation myth is just that, and the details are hazy at best. Either way, this tells him one thing.]
Good grief. Humans are emotional creatures.
[He makes his remark lightly, because he's the last archangel who gets to say this. One might even argue that his tone is almost one of fondness.]
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Perhaps that is what makes it interesting.
[Emotions were such a distinct, human thing. But...]
In most cases, such a celebration is entirely symbolic. In other words, it isn't the gesture, but the meaning that matters. [Things like these snowmen and snowflakes, the sparkling lights and decorations—they didn't actually do anything. They only represented things.] But humans approach it with passion regardless. Essentially, it serves no purpose but to make them feel happiness. It's... interesting.
[He's thinking out loud now. Maybe thinking too much. But maybe because he felt so far removed from these things, he couldn't help but be— intrigued.
That's totally all it is!!]
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Coupled with what he knows, Sandalphon is struck by a sudden feeling. Simply walking by as they have been doing won't be enough. His feet shift.
Without saying anything, he approaches another stall. This one is selling sets of themed cups and other tupperware, and his attention gravitates to a section of the former. Unlike the previous visit to the other vendor, he takes the time to appraise the products without touching anything.]
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The way Sandalphon suddenly breaks apart from him as if he's got something that needs to be done certainly takes Lucifer by surprise. For a moment, he only blinks, but then he moves to follow after him, to see whatever it is that has sparked this sudden change in direction.
Joining him at his side again, Lucifer looks over the wares, too, as he asks:]
Did something catch your eye?
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[They can use the cups and mugs provided by the apartments, of course; however, those are for general purpose and shared by everyone in the suite. What are he and Lucifer going to do when, one day, there's only one cup in the cupboard? That's how he'll justify the possible purchase.
If it so happens to lead to a souvenir for Lucifer's keeping, then that's just how it'll go.]
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He nods.]
That's a good idea. [And, in that case, he'll start looking them over more seriously, too. After all, not just any random one would do.] These are more elaborate than any I've ever used.
[It's not a bad thing, though. Just an observation, about the people here, and about their apparent feelings regarding coffee.]
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To be fair, if he were to have it his way, he probably wouldn't buy any of these. There's too much flair. He can't speak for Lucifer, though.]
Is there anything that catches your eye?
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He tilts a cup upward to get a better look at the design—then another, and then another. Eventually, he lifts one up for Sandalphon to see: at first glance, it's a simple mug with a cute snowman on it, but when tilted at just the right angle, the snow seems to sparkle.]
What do you think of this one?
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That's as subtle as you can get. [Finding a simple cup would be a challenge at this time.] Do you want it?
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He nods.]
Yes, I think it is entirely suitable for our purposes. [What an answer...] Have you considered one for yourself?
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Tedious.
Sandalphon gives the wares a once-over before picking up a mug with the following text: Every time a bell rings, an angel gets it wings. He huffs. If he's going to do this, he might as well go all-in with the nonsense.]
I'll take this one.
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And that's such a silly thing. It didn't matter. They didn't need cups that matched, or to treat this like it was some kind of special event, because all of the conditions that made this scenario what it was didn't have anything to do with them. They didn't celebrate holidays or give each other gifts. But...
Hm. Maybe it couldn't hurt— to pretend, just for now.]
A good choice. I look forward to using them with you.
[He sounds content, and that's because he is. It's not just the mugs that make him happy—it's the whole act, being here together, thinking of these mundane things that they didn't need to be doing together. It feels so spectacularly... normal. And it's nice to be able to experience that with him.]
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We'll take these. I'm paying, of course.
[Credits are exchanged, and the merchant provides a small bag with stuffing as a parting gift. Sandalphon drops his mug into the cushioned bag, then looks up at Lucifer, who appears pleased.]
If that's all here, we can move on.
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That was generous of you. Thank you, Sandalphon.
[Sandalphon's "reason" (more like excuse) for wanting to pick these up in the first place was so practical, but it still felt— meaningful, somehow. Or maybe it just felt that way to him. Or maybe he just wanted it to feel that way.
Lucifer couldn't say he understood it, completely. Feelings were a complicated thing. But he's happy with this outcome nonetheless.
...well, there was still a bit of a problem, though. Namely, that he had not thought of a way to return the favor, because... well, he didn't think he'd need to.]
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What's the point of making credits if we don't spend them?
[He spends them, of course. But he doesn't engage in extracurricular activities. Their biggest expense lies in coffee beans. Sandalphon has more credits than with which he knows what to do, and his inadvertent frugality has become a boon tonight.
He won't ever understand the frivolous, whimsical nature of people; but if Lucifer is pleased and experiencing the celebration firsthand, then that'll do.]
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[It wasn't something Sandalphon had to do, regardless of how Lucifer had felt about it. Even if he'd openly admitted to wanting something, he would not have expected Sandalphon to do anything about it. Maybe it was a small gesture to him, but to Lucifer, it meant a lot. He could count the number of gifts he'd ever received in his life on one hand. The number of gifts he'd received from Sandalphon was even less.]
I would like to do the same for you as well.
[Whoa, bold—]
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You want to make it an exchange?
[Lucifer's the only one on whom it's worth spending these otherwise useless credits. Besides, he's right here; Sandalphon doesn't need or want anything—except he can't say that, lest he become a hypocrite. This is troubling.
In any case, getting put on the spot is more than a little awkward. Surely, Lucifer could have been more subtle in his approach.]
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[Is this the honesty you wanted, Sandalphon, because—]
So, it only seems natural, doesn't it?
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It's almost . . . too good to be true. It's nice. Sandalphon just doesn't know how to respond to it, because he's never had to before. (And last time, Lucifer was in no condition for a two-way conversation.) He supposes that Lucifer makes a reasonable argument. Flustered, he gives in.]
Fine. I'll let you pick the stall.
[In order for Lucifer to convey his feelings.]
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After a moment, he spots a stall carrying various articles of clothing, and, without a word, breaks off from their path to go and check it out.
There are a lot of winter clothes here, some with (fake) Christmas designs and others without. There are also some clothes designed for warmer weather, too. He considers these thoughtfully. Something like this would also be useful, he thinks.]
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Clothing. Practical, yet overdone like everything else tonight, and options are a plenty. While Lucifer regards them, Sandalphon watches him.
A strange sight, to be sure.]
Lucifer?
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