[It would be a lot easier to have this conversation if Lucifer didn't seem so damn delighted at his discomfort. John supposes it's to be expected. Lucifer isn't know for being a nice guy, after all.]
Oh, well, we've had a run in or two now. I'm not too fond of him. He'd be better off tangled up into a bow than left to his own devices. Probably more attractive that way too. [He'd be fine with the joking and play, if he wasn't so fucked up over all of this. He needs answers, and he's almost certain that he's going to have to owe Lucifer for ones that won't really change anything. And he looks away, listening to Lucifer speak, teeth gritted while his mouth stays forced into a false smile.
He's so utterly fucked. And he's not alone in that. He won't be the only one suffering.
His stomach turns at what he perceives as mockery from Lucifer, he knew deep down that Manny couldn't help him but it aches to even think of it. He fucked up, that was on him. But the pain is visceral and real. And he snaps out his next words, angered.] I know who to blame, damn it! [And he knows the only one to blame here is himself. At least as far as his damnation goes. He reels it back, and takes another drink and a decently large one. He filled that glass up generously, and it's already starting to give him that little bit of comforting numbness.
There's no hope. He's properly fucking damned. And he's pretty sure that Lucifer doesn't have the grasp on his soul that he thinks that he does.]
If you think you've got my soul, mate, you'd probably be wrong. I'm Nergal's from what I know of. And he's not the only one trying to lay claim to me. I'm rather sought after. Suppose it's my charm. [He shakes, a deep tremble running through him from anger more than anything else.] And I'm starting to think that my buddy Manny is up to more than just fucking with me. Bastard won't even buy me dinner first. [His expression is sour, although he's absolutely taking note of the situation at hand. He doesn't know if there's anything he can pull with that information about Lucifer and Amenadiel. But every damn bit of information is worth something when he's this screwed.] If I had a decent con, do you think I'd be here right now? I'd be making things happen, not begging you for bloody information about asshole angels and demons.
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Oh, well, we've had a run in or two now. I'm not too fond of him. He'd be better off tangled up into a bow than left to his own devices. Probably more attractive that way too. [He'd be fine with the joking and play, if he wasn't so fucked up over all of this. He needs answers, and he's almost certain that he's going to have to owe Lucifer for ones that won't really change anything. And he looks away, listening to Lucifer speak, teeth gritted while his mouth stays forced into a false smile.
He's so utterly fucked. And he's not alone in that. He won't be the only one suffering.
His stomach turns at what he perceives as mockery from Lucifer, he knew deep down that Manny couldn't help him but it aches to even think of it. He fucked up, that was on him. But the pain is visceral and real. And he snaps out his next words, angered.] I know who to blame, damn it! [And he knows the only one to blame here is himself. At least as far as his damnation goes. He reels it back, and takes another drink and a decently large one. He filled that glass up generously, and it's already starting to give him that little bit of comforting numbness.
There's no hope. He's properly fucking damned. And he's pretty sure that Lucifer doesn't have the grasp on his soul that he thinks that he does.]
If you think you've got my soul, mate, you'd probably be wrong. I'm Nergal's from what I know of. And he's not the only one trying to lay claim to me. I'm rather sought after. Suppose it's my charm. [He shakes, a deep tremble running through him from anger more than anything else.] And I'm starting to think that my buddy Manny is up to more than just fucking with me. Bastard won't even buy me dinner first. [His expression is sour, although he's absolutely taking note of the situation at hand. He doesn't know if there's anything he can pull with that information about Lucifer and Amenadiel. But every damn bit of information is worth something when he's this screwed.] If I had a decent con, do you think I'd be here right now? I'd be making things happen, not begging you for bloody information about asshole angels and demons.