nexuses | can't a man have some coffee in peace

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?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Sitting down, Sandalphon gazes upon the lights decorating their surroundings. Certainly, it's impressive; and it looks even more majestic with Lucifer's approval.]

The technology here is far ahead of that of the Sky Realm's. I never imagined it would be put to use like this.

[On second thought, it should have been obvious, given the nature of people and how over-the-top Shehui is overall. But people are always surprising him with just how far they can go.]

Indeed. I think, perhaps, if I were in their position, I may not have come up with such an idea. I wonder what it was that inspired such a thing.

[Arranging the lights in extravagant patterns such as these—it was gorgeous, sure, but it was entirely frivolous. That wasn't strange for humans at all, but that's exactly why Lucifer thinks what he does. He would never have thought to do something like this because they just— weren't wired to do so.

But that just makes it all the more fascinating.]

It's my hope that you'll get to experience more things like this in the future.

[Whether it was here or at home or in some other world in between, he wanted Sandalphon to be able to see all these unique things that people were capable of.]

[Coming from a world of which Lucifer is no longer a part, all it takes is a second for Sandalphon's thoughts to drift along those lines (again). Seeing more in Shehui is a given, but his experience with the Sky Realm's goings-on has been minimal. He has little reason, objectively speaking, to hope for more of what they're seeing now over there; however, when Lucifer wants it for him so earnestly, Sandalphon supposes that he can do keep the wish in his mind.]

It's possible. [He mulls over the next statement.] I've been traveling—with the Singularity.

Oh?

[He's intrigued by this, but he wonders— if it's okay to talk about. It's the first time he's mentioned anything like that... Anything about the life he was living after his death. He almost wants to just ask, but then he fears that in itself wouldn't be okay. He's hesitant to say anything, in fear of it... well, being the wrong thing to say. He doesn't want to hurt him anymore.

He opts for something more neutral this time, instead of just saying what he feels.]

What do you think of it so far?

[Sandalphon snorts. There's too much to cover, but he can provide an apt summation.]

There's never a dull day. What's more, the crew insists on making small talk.

[And the nerve of the red dragon, claiming that he raves about coffee. The Grandcypher's crew tests his patience on a daily basis, though he'll be the first to say that there could be worse company. He can't help the faint smirk that crosses his features.]

But through them, I've experienced what the Sky Realm has to offer. [Then he glances at Lucifer, his lips turning down. The supreme primarch isn't meant to gallivant around the skies.] Do you disapprove?

Not at all. I'm happy for you.

[He doesn't even have to think about his answer. It comes easily, because it's the truth. He had thought about this a lot, both before, as he was dying, and ever since he found himself here. He was confident in Sandalphon's ability to handle the role that he had passed to him, but he still had worries. He absolutely had regrets.]

I never wanted for you to live the way I did. I... [He hesitates. This part's a bit more difficult.] I was afraid I took that away from you. I never gave you a choice.

[In other words, please, keep gallivanting around. There was no reason for the one who'd not been assigned a role to have to be confined the way he was.]

[He looks away, finding the displays easier on his eyes. His chest feels hollow, yet full with a light sensation. Lucifer, who deserved to be the one traveling with the Grandcypher's crew and captain, is happy for him.

Lucifer, who's happy for him, has just confessed his fears. That's never happened before.]

I wasn't going anywhere before I succeeded you. Besides, accepting your power and the task you left behind was my choice.

[Sandalphon's cogent words cut through the sentimental night air. Finding the clash lacking, he takes a soft breath. This is no way to return Lucifer's kindness for thinking of him all those years.]

The one who didn't get to make a choice was you.

[Whether it was to accept or refuse the role he was given at birth, to live or die when Beelzebub and Belial resurfaced . . . It's Lucifer who's always been yanked around by the choices others have made. Sandalphon is no less guilty than the lot of them.]

Perhaps. [He can't deny that his life did lack a lot of choice. He had accepted his role and played his part dutifully, without question, and he had continued to do so even after Lucilius's death because... he had to. Because someone had to. He didn't dislike his role, though a lot of it was done out of obligation more than anything else.] But I don't consider myself unfortunate. I was able to experience things in a way that many people never will. I was also able to meet you.

[Not even "create," because it felt like so much more than that. To him, Sandalphon had always been more than that. He had never seen him as the object or "pet" that Lucilius had.]

Even though I was tied to my role, I found things I cared about and loved. [It's a bit strange, using that word in relation to himself so casually, because he'd never really allowed himself to think of such things, but it was also the truth.] Choosing to pass my role to you was entirely selfish of me, but if it isn't holding you back, then I'm glad.

[Truthfully, a part of him wished he had been a little more selfish in his life, but... never about this. He had never wanted Sandalphon to have to deal with this at all.]

[Hearing such heartfelt words from Lucifer is still strange. A part of Sandalphon finds an insurmountable relief in the consolation; the other part of him vehemently disagrees with the last statement, and it shows in the crease of his brow.]

How was that selfish? You were thinking of the world when you made that decision. You didn't have to choose a successor.

[And how angry he'd been when he'd first heard the message, thinking that Lucifer was denying himself a selfish thought to the bitter end. Sandalphon won't stand for this claim. Spare or not, he wasn't bullied into his current position. This is pure nonsense.]

Don't confuse reason with selfishness. You've never held me back.

[Pushed aside, perhaps. But never back.]

Your problem is that you think too much about others. Think about yourself for once.

[Hmm... He considers that.]

I suppose you're right. [It's true—he passed on his role not because he wanted to, but because it was necessary. Not because the world wanted a supreme primarch, but because the world needed one. In that sense, maybe it didn't matter that he had chosen him, specifically, when it could have been any of the other archangels. But even then...] Is it a problem if I want to think about you?

[The thing about his selfishness, both that which he'd often denied and the very little he'd allowed himself, was that it always, always had to do with him. The dreams he'd had for the future, the things he'd wanted for himself... There was nothing he'd wanted that didn't involve another person. He did care about their world and what happened to it, because he loved it and everything in it, but that—

It was far, far from the only thing he loved.]

[He almost wonders what would possess Lucifer to want that, but he knows why. His pure words, Lucifer had said. Those tender days when they would forget the laboratory and worldly duties in that shaded place . . . Sandalphon looks down, his expression softening.

Lucifer is truly benevolent. Those days are behind them now, yet he would still cherish the one who'd thrown them away. Sandalphon has no right to say much on the matter.]

If that's what you want, there's no problem. Just don't forget about yourself.

[That's a promise he'll make tonight. Should Lucifer forget, Sandalphon will remind him.]

I won't. [He's satisfied with Sandalphon's response. Honestly, it's something he was ready to argue for, because... well, Sandalphon was the only one who'd ever made him want anything for himself.] Perhaps I could still afford to learn to be more selfish. Yet, I can think of little I want more than this.

[He thought dragging Sandalphon along to cater to his fascination regarding human whims was already pretty selfish...! But even though it was something he probably would have done regardless, it wouldn't have been the same without him. None of this would, really.

Could he want for more? Maybe. Probably. But for him, this was more than enough. Just being by his side was— enough.]

[A development like that is sure to take time, especially for one so conditioned to being otherwise. It's almost ironic, given who's sitting next to him. With a slight smirk, Sandalphon lifts his head.]

That just means that part of you needs to evolve. Evolution takes time. You know that better than anyone, don't you?

[Give Lucifer time, and he'll be thinking about more than Sandalphon in the future. That's just the way it'll go.]

[Hmmm...

Sandalphon means well, he knows, yet he can't help but feel like— something is off about this. But he can't quite place what it is or why. He's not sure if Sandalphon doesn't understand, or if he doesn't... approve? Or if it's something else entirely.

A part of him thinks they might be having two different conversations.]

I wonder. [Maybe the issue is that, if they are having the same conversation, Sandalphon's words imply that there's something wrong with the way he feels.] What more should I want?

[Sandalphon frowns. That isn't a question he was expecting, nor is he in the position to give a formulated response.]

I can't answer that.

[That's for Lucifer, who's spent millennia observing Skydwellers, to decide. There must be a number of things that he wants, things that'll come to the forefront of his mind once his initial concerns are settled. For Sandalphon, this is the logical progression.

But he mustn't presume overmuch. Their last encounter in Canaan had proven that he hadn't understood Lucifer very well.]

[That is... well, maybe that's to be expected. But it's strange, too. Sandalphon felt like he should want more than to just— be with him, and yet, he can't give him any examples as to what that could be.]

Then, what about you? What more do you want, Sandalphon?

[Lucifer isn't sure if that's something Sandalphon can answer, either, but he wants to try to understand where he's coming from.]

[Nothing.

That's his immediate thought. It's not entirely true, because his mind is preoccupied these days by the promise he'd made Lucifer at Canaan; other than that, however, he finds himself drawing a blank.]

I haven't thought about it.

[Moreover, thinking about it would be a distraction, which he can't afford.]

[Hmm... He can understand that, he supposes. It's probably a lot to ask, given Sandalphon's situation, but it leaves Lucifer with more questions than answers.]

I don't disagree that I should be more selfish. Yet I wonder if what I want is too selfish.

[He normally just... assumed that Sandalphon felt the same. And he knows, to an extent, that he does share his feelings, but even then...]

[What Lucifer wants—to think about Sandalphon? He doesn't follow.]

Why do you say that?

[Thoughts don't harm anyone. Lucifer clearly means more, but they seem to have hit a snag in their conversation. Are they talking about the same thing anymore?]

[The thing he's always wanted yet never been allowed to have...]

For as long as I can remember, the only thing I've ever wanted is to be with you. [Lucifer had never asked for much. Even being able to have this at all was never something he'd ever questioned or wanted for. He absolutely could have lived without it, but once he'd had it...] Is that not selfish enough? Or is it too selfish?

[It's more of a rhetorical question this time—he doesn't expect Sandalphon to actually be able to answer that, especially since... well, it involves him.]

You don't have to want what I want, but it's quite selfish for one's happiness to depend upon another, isn't it?

[And not just selfish. Selfish implied flawed, and both of those were very human things.]

[Yes, it is. It's selfish, and Sandalphon knows that.

All he's ever wanted was to be with, be useful to, and be wanted by Lucifer. Right now, all those needs are being fulfilled. But he knows that this is a transient moment in time and space; and that, in reality, being with Lucifer is an impossible dream that visits him every night.

This is his failing. Even now, he struggles to overcome this need. Lucifer, however, has the strength to go beyond such a superficial boundary: Sandalphon hadn't always been there to reach for his attention.]

Even if it is, your happiness doesn't depend on just me. You care about the sky, too.

I do, but the sky isn't what makes me happy.

[There are implications here, but Lucifer isn't entirely sure what to make of them. Did Sandalphon not want him to care about him so? That was not what Lucifer had gathered before, from all their interactions together. Did he not think he was worthy to be cared about in such a way, or was the problem that he was jealous that there were "others?" Or was it something else entirely?

He honestly doesn't know.]

Do you think my selfishness misplaced?

[Happy . . .

He looks away, unable to respond. Yes, he thinks, that selfishness is misplaced in that the entire world awaits. At the same time, rejecting his being in Lucifer's thoughts rattles his core too much to say aloud. His conscience wars with his emotions.

Lucifer, who's beloved and followed by all, has a vast future ahead of him as long as he's here—alive, so full of curiosity and appreciation for the culture of the living.

Words he'd thought past him bubble to the forefront of his mind: a peasant should not hope to monopolize the grace of his king.]

It's complicated, isn't it?

[That's as deep as his comprehension goes because it could be-- so many things. He's aware that he still doesn't really know Sandalphon as well as he thought he did, or even wished to.

He wonders if this would be easier if he did. He fears-- that he might be making things difficult for him again. Then it all comes back to the question of how selfish is too selfish.]

Although it pains me to admit, your thoughts on the matter are beyond me. Yet, regardless, if you think my feelings misplaced, I fear there's little I can do to change them. For me, you'll always be more precious than the sky.

[Even if Sandalphon didn't approve, for thousands of years, he thought about him, wanted to see him, wanted to be with him again. Even despite their disagreements and misunderstanding, he'd wanted nothing more than to speak with him again. He didn't think that would easily change.]

[Sandalphon swallows. It feels as though a lump is lodged in his throat as he whispers.]

I don't deserve it . . .

[For two thousand years, he'd thought that he was nothing, only for Lucifer to have told him otherwise. Now, being told again in such clear terms, Sandalphon finds a wave of emotions crashing down on him.

Lucifer speaks of selfishness, yet the selfish one here is him. The familiar noose of guilt threatens to choke Sandalphon while his hands, curled into loose fists on his lap, tremble. A single thought pervades his mind: he should get down on his knees and beg forgiveness for having betrayed Lucifer's faith.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject