Lucifer traced the lines on his skin through his clothes with a shaking finger as he lay in his cell. He didn't need to look to know where they were, the memory of recieving the Mark of Cain was unlikely to ever leave him, with the burning and the hand of his father covering his mouth to stop his screams from alerting his brothers. He wondered, for a split second, wether he would have accepted it if he knew what it would do, but he smothered the thought as soon as it surfaced. Of course he would, if his father asked his help who was he to deny it? He bit his lip, a nervous habit he had developed, how dare he even consider rejecting the gift? That's what his father had called it, so that's what it was. A gift. He was lucky to have been chosen to receive such an honour, especially since Michael would surely have found it much easier to fight. Michael was much stronger.
He raised his hand to his face, tracing the long cut there, mopping up the slippy liquid lining it. He drew his hand away and inspected the Grace on his fingertips. Pathetic. It was despicable for such a slight wound to harm his Grace, the animal from the garden that had attacked him had not been strong, but he didn't wish to harm it. He dropped his hand limply down on his chest again, trying his hardest to ignore the floaty sensation covering him. This had happened before. He had been in this cell for what must be nearly three days now, though he couldn't tell because of the abstance of windows in this dark place. He'd had no food and nothing to drink, and for the past... Length of time... His body had switched between floating and violent tremors that shook his aching being and even forced forth a few tears. But that was his fault. He had lashed out, quite horribly, at a fledgling, his temper short from the pain and his self-restraint weakened from the dizziness, at which point Michael had sentenced him to three days. Which shouldn't be a problem. Angels didn't need to eat or drink, it was just something they liked. Three days was a minor inconvenience, an incentive not to do it again rather than a punishment. But for him, weak and pathetic as he was, this was hitting him just as hard as it would a human. He let out a shaky breath as the tremors started again, softly at first, and curled up on the floor. Pathetic.
When his cell door rattled Lucifer hurriedly stood up, smoothing his feathers and attempting to still his shaking hands. Finally the door swung open and Michael was standing in the entrance, the backlight iluminating the outline of his pearly wings.
"Lucifer," he said kindly, "come on, I'm sorry about that."
Lucifer tried to smile, and apparently it didn't go too bad as Michael reciprocated.
"Brother. Nice to see you." He murmured, his voice gravely from disuse.
He blinked and winced at the bright light of Heaven, his headache returning in full force, and finding himself relieved at his brothers lack of attention to detail as his tremors and shivers intensified.
"Drink? I'll come with you." Said Michael casually.
"Sure." Agreed Lucifer, wanting nothing more than some water, and hoping it might quell his shakes a little. However, that was not to be, as a Herald fluttered up to the brothers.
"He would like to see you, Sir." He said, looking at Lucifer, "At once."
Lucifer swallowed, his throat stinging from the lack of moisture.
"No need to call me Sir." He said gently, before turning to his other brother. "I'll take you up on that drink another time, I must go."
Michael nodded and smiled, waving as he rose towards the sun and flew towards the palace.
He stands stiffly at attention, even as black blotches dance across his vision, and his body trembles minutely, almost unnoticeably. But He sees everything.
"You are weak, my Son," came the commanding tone, "you are almost Human in appearance." His father leant in close to him and whispered, too low for the attendants to hear, "Light Bringer, you must know, surely, that while humans are beautiful, an Angel must be Divine. How could you let yourself fall like this? Why do you insist on showing weakness, while your brothers stay strong? Are you simply not good enough to uphold the trust I placed in you, or do you attempt to glean pity?"
Lucifer held his breath, begged his treacherous pulse to slow, not to give away the fever raging inside him. He wanted to close his eyes so much, his tremors were only increasing with time.
"I- I am sorry, father. Please do not believe I do this for attention, I-"
"No." His father cut him off with a single word, turning away and walking a few paces.
"Leave us." He said firmly, waiting until all the angels around had left them to turn to his Son once more.
"Morningstar. The name given to you to show how bright you shone. But now, you have disobayed me, and the light of your Grace is dimming, to slight for you to see, but dimming."
"Father, please-"
"Silence! You were instructed not to allow your brothers to suspect the Mark. They are not to know of it's existence! But now, with this pitiful show of weakness, physical, mental and evenemotional,certain of the commanders have begun to notice a change in you. This should not go unpunished, but first I will allow you to explain. So, how do you explain your weakness, your blatant disregard for my wishes?"
"I- I'm sorry, I'm trying, father please, it-" Lucifer broke off as his vision blurred dangerously, knowing that fainting would be paramount to full disobedience. He swallowed, ordering himself to stop being so weak."I'm sorry. The Mark is affecting me more than it should. I have gone without food or water for three days, and my inhibitions are somewhat lowered. They shouldn't be, but I fear I may need to eat and drink now, as opposed to doing it for pleasure."
His Father frowned studying his face as Lucifer tried to keep it apologetic and disappointed in himself when all he really wanted to do was cry from the pain.
"As I said, Lucifer, this ought to be punished..." He raised his eyebrows at his son, who was looking down now, instead of trying to plead without words.
"Pl- please, father, I'm sorry, but the other angels eat also, and as they do not know of the order, surely allowing me water would not make them suspicious?"
But his Father simply watched him, face blank and impassive as his som struggled to remain conscious. Eventually Lucifer couldn't wait any longer, and breaking his father's gaze, he looked down at his shoes.
"Please?"
Silence. Absolutely nothing, no singing or laughter, not even a whinny from a newly made horse. Lucifer raised his eyes to his father's face once more, and his father returned his gaze coldly.
"No. No food, get out."
Lucifer bit his lip, trying desperately to swallow the lump in his throat before he spoke.
"Yes Sir."
But he didn't leave. He hesitated, trying to figure out whether to stay and risk a more serious punishment, or to try for what he... Needed.
"Sir?"
His father span back to glare at him, and he almost ran then and there.
"What? I told you to leave, do you wish to be hurt?" He threatened his son.
"N- no sir. May I drink, Sir?" Lucifer asked, his voice scratchy from the emotions he was trying to contain.
His father huffed out a humerless laugh.
"I suppose as you have allowed yourself to become so weak as to need my creation, that I shall have to give it to you. So yes, Lucifer, you may drink, but you shall have no food until I say. Now for the last time, get out."
Lucifer nodded speechlessly and hurried to the door, stumbling once but not daring to glance back.
He fell round a corner, and huddled between two buildings. His vision was just black now, and his breaths were shaky and shallow. He could feel his pulse thumping rapidly in his ears and in his neck. Another hot flush ravaged his body, and he sobed slightly as he felt his core temperature peak and then drop to new levels of cold. He shivers violently, but as the flushes die down again, he climbs shakily to his feet, spreading his wings and beating them weakly. He rises out of the crack, and turns toward the nearest water fountain. Half flapping, half just randomly spasming his wings, he keeps out of the way of the streets as he makes his way to water.
SOO good bad more kill it with fire? Let me know! (please. I like TØP and I'm hyper please?) Also my shuffle just put on a song that starts with I don't believe in no devil which is bloody ironic if you ask me.