Louis Cypher/Louisa Ferra/Lucifer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firstofthefallen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-01-12 11:48 pm
firstofthefallen) wrote in towerofanimus2013-01-12 11:48 pm
Tyger Tyger Burning Bright
Characters: Lucifer
Setting: Around the Tower, Floor 13
Format: Action brackets to start, will match any form
Summary: A thousand years of captivity and powerlessness does not bode well with someone who puts a surplus on the importance of power.
Warnings: Blasphemy warning for floor 13 and in general, creepiness, encroaching madness
Anywhere
[The Tower is being odd today. That seems to be something all can agree on who inhabit it. But there's something especially off with wherever you are right now.
You can't put your finger on it at first, but the sensation is bothersome. Worrying, to a degree. It's a prickling sensation at the back of your mind that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. It takes a moment, but not too long, before you realize what the sensation is.
You can't tell exactly why, but you feel like you're being watched. You might feel like you can see the shadow of someone else in the room, indistinct and for a brief moment inhuman, before it flicks out of sight. Or maybe you hear something that sounds like footsteps behind you. Or to the side. Or right in front of you.
But always. Always you think that in the back of your mind you can hear a low, indistinct singing.
Perhaps you'll just try and leave the room you're currently in. Or perhaps you'll call out to see if anyone's there.
Maybe there is no good choice at the moment.]
Floor 13/The Cathedral
[The Cathedral was his. YHWH had managed to take so much away from him in the 1000 years Lucifer had been trapped just by trapping him here that if the most Lucifer could do to obviously hurt YHWH was destroy a place that seemed to be for his worship, Lucifer did it.
The pews in the Cathedral have been shattered, most reduced to splinters and heaps of broken wood. Most of the shattered pews seem to have been covered in some form of unpleasant filth, and the smell of carrion and dark staining on the wood attests to what it is. The wood, if one felt some desire too, would be filthy to the touch, grimy and clumped and wet, so horribly wet.
The large, ornate stained glass windows too have been defaced, obscenities in several languages, in English and in German and in Latin and in all languages in between, new and old, alive and dead, have been carved into the glass. It would be better, more accurate perhaps, to say they were scratched into it. Some of the obscenities are simply vulgarities, single words meant to shock and offend. Others are long winded, ranting tirades against God, against belief, against seemingly anything having to do with order and control of oneself, or of others.
The same kind of filth that covered the shattered remains of the pews too seems to start running down the center of main aisle, originating in the middle of it. The path of grime and filth continues to the podium at the very front, where one would stand to give a sermon.
Instead, there's a creature sitting on top of the podium. The creature, in comparison to the wreckage that is now the Cathedral, looks beautiful. Almost serene. And yet from it's posture there's something wrong. Something frightening beyond how immediately inhuman its appearance is. The fact that the creature is singing, and singing in a voice not beautiful but monotone, almost droning, doesn't help.]
Our God
Is an awesome God
He reigns in Heaven above
[As the creature sings, it seems to be whittling something. Not with a knife, but it's very fingers. It doesn't appear to have claws, and yet it still digs its finger nails into a piece of wood - a large shard of what had once been a pew - and tears chunks of wood away with ease. The figure it's making appears to be a little man, hands outstretched to heaven, as if pleading or asking reprieve.]
With Wisdom
Power
And Love
[And at love, the creature crushes the little man in entirety in it's hand. The wooden figure disappears into the creature's fist, and once the hand becomes unclenched all that appears again is a fine dust that sprinkles and falls to the ground.]
Our God is an awesome God.
[The Cathedral was his. To do with as he pleased. To be the one way Lucifer believed he could still spite God, could strike in some fashion against YHWH who had managed after so long to leave him truly powerless in Lucifer's contest against Him.
Lucifer hadn't given up. Not completely. He could still form a Chaos faction. He could still fight back. He just
He just needed to find some way to hurt this damn Tower. And none had presented itself.
None had been found in a thousand years.
And so he sat. And sang. And made mockery as he schemed.
As he tried not to break down further.
He wasn't accustomed to visitors. Most seemed to realize it was a bad idea by this point to enter the Cathedral. Still.
Lucifer wouldn't necessarily be angry to receive some visitors.
Even the devil could be lonely.]
Setting: Around the Tower, Floor 13
Format: Action brackets to start, will match any form
Summary: A thousand years of captivity and powerlessness does not bode well with someone who puts a surplus on the importance of power.
Warnings: Blasphemy warning for floor 13 and in general, creepiness, encroaching madness
Anywhere
[The Tower is being odd today. That seems to be something all can agree on who inhabit it. But there's something especially off with wherever you are right now.
You can't put your finger on it at first, but the sensation is bothersome. Worrying, to a degree. It's a prickling sensation at the back of your mind that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. It takes a moment, but not too long, before you realize what the sensation is.
You can't tell exactly why, but you feel like you're being watched. You might feel like you can see the shadow of someone else in the room, indistinct and for a brief moment inhuman, before it flicks out of sight. Or maybe you hear something that sounds like footsteps behind you. Or to the side. Or right in front of you.
But always. Always you think that in the back of your mind you can hear a low, indistinct singing.
Perhaps you'll just try and leave the room you're currently in. Or perhaps you'll call out to see if anyone's there.
Maybe there is no good choice at the moment.]
Floor 13/The Cathedral
[The Cathedral was his. YHWH had managed to take so much away from him in the 1000 years Lucifer had been trapped just by trapping him here that if the most Lucifer could do to obviously hurt YHWH was destroy a place that seemed to be for his worship, Lucifer did it.
The pews in the Cathedral have been shattered, most reduced to splinters and heaps of broken wood. Most of the shattered pews seem to have been covered in some form of unpleasant filth, and the smell of carrion and dark staining on the wood attests to what it is. The wood, if one felt some desire too, would be filthy to the touch, grimy and clumped and wet, so horribly wet.
The large, ornate stained glass windows too have been defaced, obscenities in several languages, in English and in German and in Latin and in all languages in between, new and old, alive and dead, have been carved into the glass. It would be better, more accurate perhaps, to say they were scratched into it. Some of the obscenities are simply vulgarities, single words meant to shock and offend. Others are long winded, ranting tirades against God, against belief, against seemingly anything having to do with order and control of oneself, or of others.
The same kind of filth that covered the shattered remains of the pews too seems to start running down the center of main aisle, originating in the middle of it. The path of grime and filth continues to the podium at the very front, where one would stand to give a sermon.
Instead, there's a creature sitting on top of the podium. The creature, in comparison to the wreckage that is now the Cathedral, looks beautiful. Almost serene. And yet from it's posture there's something wrong. Something frightening beyond how immediately inhuman its appearance is. The fact that the creature is singing, and singing in a voice not beautiful but monotone, almost droning, doesn't help.]
Our God
Is an awesome God
He reigns in Heaven above
[As the creature sings, it seems to be whittling something. Not with a knife, but it's very fingers. It doesn't appear to have claws, and yet it still digs its finger nails into a piece of wood - a large shard of what had once been a pew - and tears chunks of wood away with ease. The figure it's making appears to be a little man, hands outstretched to heaven, as if pleading or asking reprieve.]
With Wisdom
Power
And Love
[And at love, the creature crushes the little man in entirety in it's hand. The wooden figure disappears into the creature's fist, and once the hand becomes unclenched all that appears again is a fine dust that sprinkles and falls to the ground.]
Our God is an awesome God.
[The Cathedral was his. To do with as he pleased. To be the one way Lucifer believed he could still spite God, could strike in some fashion against YHWH who had managed after so long to leave him truly powerless in Lucifer's contest against Him.
Lucifer hadn't given up. Not completely. He could still form a Chaos faction. He could still fight back. He just
He just needed to find some way to hurt this damn Tower. And none had presented itself.
None had been found in a thousand years.
And so he sat. And sang. And made mockery as he schemed.
As he tried not to break down further.
He wasn't accustomed to visitors. Most seemed to realize it was a bad idea by this point to enter the Cathedral. Still.
Lucifer wouldn't necessarily be angry to receive some visitors.
Even the devil could be lonely.]
no subject
[Seriously, Lucifer, calm down. You're going to scare... someone besides Nyx.]
no subject
[He says the words, over and over again. As if trying to make sense of them, like a child would with a word he's never heard, a word foreign to him as much in meaning as it might be in tongue.
He says the two words one last time, and shakes his head.]
No.
Nothing NOTHING is perfect. That is the foundation of His His lie.
no subject
[Nyx is finding Lucifer to be ridiculous and frustrating. This conversation, this person, is not one she should concern herself with.
But she finds herself unable to leave. The two of them are similar, at least immortality wise. Some of their ideals, as well. And Nyx hasn't been entirely sane these last five years, either. So she feels she needs to at least try a little longer.
Time for her to play mommy]no subject
Beings such as you and I can never never become perfect. The only ones who can can are the mortals and lesser demons, who can pass on what they've learned to the next generation~.
no subject
Despite their strengths, they will not become perfect. History repeats, and mortals foolishly make the same mistakes as the ones that came before them. Those who break the mold are regrettably rare.
no subject
[Lucifer laughs a bit at it. It's not pity, in his mind. Just an understanding of his role. Something that, even when sane, he wouldn't voice. The older gods will, inevitably, die and be replaced by others. Things change. They have to.
That's Chaos.]
You mis you misunderstaaaaand, Nyx. I do not pity myself, nor anyone else. Pity is a weak emotion, and it it does nothing for anyone.
It is amusing to hear hear yoooooou talk of your perfection, however. You, who could not even correctly judge whether mankind desired death or not, and thus were entrapped by their own strength.
None of the gods are perfect, nor will man ever be perfect. Perfection is an ideal to chase, not something that can be obtained.
no subject
I did not misjudge their desire. I simply was delayed in performing my duty, not prevented for good. Humans may be strong, but their strength fails with age. My strength is eternal. Everything about me is eternal. I have no need to chase perfection. I have achieved it.
Your foolish speech will not convince me otherwise.
no subject
Truly, Nyx?
Perfection is being trapped in a place where no one can die?
no subject
[Hey, Nyx was here before the world even began. She was here before light was even created. She should have some authority.]
no subject
You think too much as HE does.
no subject