"I know you're not helpless!" he snarls, aloud, and stands abruptly, pacing away. His thoughts are thunderclouds, images more than sound, roiling. Flashes of unnatural lightning that if Istredd ever goes to Lucifer's domain, he'll see the same thing. "This isn't about strength. You want to know who held the blade currently--somehow--in his possession? The Father of Murder."
There are brief snippets of thought coming through the storm, jumbled and out of alignment, from the very-carefully tucked-away cloud:
Cain and Abel.
Knight of Hell.
Corruption.
'It just made you more of what you already were'--and that last one isn't Lucifer's voice. It's a mousey, but high voice, clouded over with feelings of hatred and betrayal and shattered love.
Lucifer spins about, furious. "I know how to handle him. I know how to handle what he has." He's shaking. "He despises me, Istredd, and when that Mark corrupts him completely, I can still contain him." He hopes. "But if you get involved? He will see it as an opportunity to make me suffer, and destroy you. There is no one winning against what he has, not for any of us!"
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There are brief snippets of thought coming through the storm, jumbled and out of alignment, from the very-carefully tucked-away cloud:
Cain and Abel.
Knight of Hell.
Corruption.
'It just made you more of what you already were'--and that last one isn't Lucifer's voice. It's a mousey, but high voice, clouded over with feelings of hatred and betrayal and shattered love.
Lucifer spins about, furious. "I know how to handle him. I know how to handle what he has." He's shaking. "He despises me, Istredd, and when that Mark corrupts him completely, I can still contain him." He hopes. "But if you get involved? He will see it as an opportunity to make me suffer, and destroy you. There is no one winning against what he has, not for any of us!"