[Strangely, if Istredd had asked, the answer would have been so impossibly simple: Jack's safety.
Because at any other point maybe it would be fine. Just simple pain. But there was Dean, and the Mark, and the First Blade.
A combination Lucifer feared for himself, not to mention his own son, in the same faction as Dean.
And Lucifer's own answer, allllll coupled together ringing its own similarities:] I glutted his power. [Just as Dean would have, though likely without being able to use it.] Michael had been confused and surprised we were on speaking terms when I was referencing Thorne's Jack. The kid was........ cagey, around me. [But not hopeless. Not without growth. Without.... understanding... that Lucifer himself didn't understand.] My power. Born through him. And me, so lacking. I wasn't weak at his conception, nor at his birth. His little homegrown family no doubt turned him against me and I... well. I bet you I saw opportunity. I saw a battery, greater than me. Cut out. And torn. Into myself.
[Somewhere along the way he's leaned back, one of his arms outstretched, making a grasping and squeezing motion, all aggressive lines in his face but his eyes--his eyes always lie, almost as much as his mind. Lucifer is following a script, a path he can easily see for himself, but he's seen just as much--if not more--while being here the last year that Istredd will easily make out the parts of him shadowing between the lines.
He knows what he would've done, pushed. He never did it here, just as he never went for Michael, nor Castiel. Part of him thinks without an angel blade it wouldn't cut the right depths. Another part knows it wouldn't be enough, not really.
And maybe there's just the slimmest, most useless part of himself, that simply doesn't understand what the point of it all is on another world.]
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Date: 2023-06-04 06:22 am (UTC)Because at any other point maybe it would be fine. Just simple pain. But there was Dean, and the Mark, and the First Blade.
A combination Lucifer feared for himself, not to mention his own son, in the same faction as Dean.
And Lucifer's own answer, allllll coupled together ringing its own similarities:] I glutted his power. [Just as Dean would have, though likely without being able to use it.] Michael had been confused and surprised we were on speaking terms when I was referencing Thorne's Jack. The kid was........ cagey, around me. [But not hopeless. Not without growth. Without.... understanding... that Lucifer himself didn't understand.] My power. Born through him. And me, so lacking. I wasn't weak at his conception, nor at his birth. His little homegrown family no doubt turned him against me and I... well. I bet you I saw opportunity. I saw a battery, greater than me. Cut out. And torn. Into myself.
[Somewhere along the way he's leaned back, one of his arms outstretched, making a grasping and squeezing motion, all aggressive lines in his face but his eyes--his eyes always lie, almost as much as his mind. Lucifer is following a script, a path he can easily see for himself, but he's seen just as much--if not more--while being here the last year that Istredd will easily make out the parts of him shadowing between the lines.
He knows what he would've done, pushed. He never did it here, just as he never went for Michael, nor Castiel. Part of him thinks without an angel blade it wouldn't cut the right depths. Another part knows it wouldn't be enough, not really.
And maybe there's just the slimmest, most useless part of himself, that simply doesn't understand what the point of it all is on another world.]