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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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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At first, it almost seems like he hadn't heard Sandalphon, but after a moment, he holds out a white scarf. It's plain and simple, but looks well-made.]
I think this would suit you. What do you think?
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It looks functional. Simple.
[He likes it when things are simple. But he can probably stand to work on his expression, hardened in concentration.]
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Once the exchange is finished, he turns away from the stall and hands one of the scarves to Sandalphon.]
Here.
[Don't worry, Sandalphon, he's not going to make you wear it—]
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Sandalphon accepts the first scarf meant for him. He holds it dumbly in his hands. He's seen plenty of people wearing scarves, but there must be more to putting it on than swinging it around his neck. Should he just hang it around his shoulders to mirror Lucifer's style? That might be too presumptuous—and improper, obvious.
In the end, he just nods.]
Thank you.
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He takes the second scarf and places it around Sandalphon's neck. Without asking him. Without warning.
Much better.✨ He seems pleased with himself.]
Hmm. I see I was right. It does suit you rather well.
[✨✨✨]
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Sandalphon tenses while Lucifer's deft hands loop the scarf around his neck. The fabric sits snugly, blocking out the chilly night air of Shehui. The fact that it's the second scarf, not the first still lying in his hands, leaves Sandalphon stunned for the initial moment.]
Lucifer! . . . Isn't this yours?
[Does not compute.]
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[It had seemed rude to just take it back from him without saying anything, but since Sandalphon was the reason he'd picked them up in the first place, he'll let him decide what to do.]
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The scarves look the same. There's no sense in holding onto the duplicate, whether it was meant to be one or the other's. So Sandalphon holds out the scarf in his possession.]
Are going to wear it, too?
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[It was kind of chilly, too, but nothing worth fussing over. Still, it is kind of nice when he puts the scarf on, so it benefits them in multiple ways.
Yes, he was definitely satisfied now.]
Shall we keep going? Or should we head back now?
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(Not that it should make any difference to a pair of archangels.)]
We haven't covered the entire festival. Didn't you want to see it all?
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If you've not grown tired of it yet, then certainly. [But he was already pretty content, honestly, so he wouldn't be mad if Sandalphon wanted to head back now. He felt like he'd already gotten to experience some of the most important parts of this holiday.] I'm grateful for your company today, Sandalphon.
[Well, he was always grateful for it, but he's aware of how fortunate he is, to be with Sandalphon here, now. That fate would somehow align in such a way to allow them to be here now.]
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Happiness is so depressingly easy to lose.
None of that now. With a hasty nod, Sandalphon starts back to the main street, suddenly aware of the people crowding the clothes stall.]
I'm not tired. Let's go.
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