[ It wasn't like Michael had anywhere to go. He was beaten, trounced, and that meant that Lucifer - as the victor - could dictate the world in whatever fashion he wanted. But that wasn't how the world was meant to be. What was the point if Lucifer could just do what he wanted? It made it all seem so...so worthless. All that noise, all this fighting, and God didn't come back for his favored son, for his ape pets, for the entire planet. If Lucifer hadn't begun to realize that burning the world meant he'd have nothing left, he would have done so, but this pitiful Creation was the last thing his Father had made.
It was just so unfair. He was tired and angry, immensely frustrated, and Michael was his best outlet. ]
Well now you're just being unreasonable. Who knew you were such a baby?
[ He tightened his grip suddenly in his brother's hair, his hand tight, and then pulling upward, dragging Michael around toward him. He could resist, of course, but... ]
Remember how you lost, and I won? I mean...
[ He rolled his shoulders, leaning forward, almost putting his face right into Michael's face. ]
Maybe I've been treating you too gently. Maybe you've gotten complacent.
[ It wouldn't surprise him. He'd been cruel to Michael, of course, but a lot of his energy had been spent on reshaping the world, too. Maybe he had been too gentle. Maybe Michael didn't realize how good he had it. If so, it was up to Lucifer to reacquaint his brother with his position. ]
[Michael did resist, steadfast in his refusal to fold to Lucifer's will in the way so much already had, but it did him little good. The warded collar and chains restricted more than just his movements. He found himself, as always, dragged where Lucifer wanted him.
Getting into his personal space did little more than prompt that same stubborn glare he always had ready for his brother. Lucifer played the part of Heaven's new ruler convincingly, but Michael had never recognized any authority but God's and had only ever feared the same. His younger brother would always be exactly that in his eyes: the little sibling that pitched fits when he didn't get his way.]
And yet you're the one throwing a tantrum, little brother. Is this not the victory you had in mind?
[He may have won Heaven, but Lucifer wasn't the favourite anymore. That much was plain to see even to Michael. Gone were the crowds of admiring younger siblings, and in their place was a silent, Godless Heaven. That had to sting. He had always thought Lucifer's rebellion had more to do with Lucifer's bruised ego than anything else.]
Do you really believe that you can do with me what you did with Lilith's soul? That if you beat me enough, torture me enough, I'll bow before you?
[Michael tilted his head. He still wore the same fierce scowl, but behind it he wondered if Lucifer really believed he could change him.
[ Lucifer had never been under any allusions. He knew that Michael was far from broken, of course, and the fact that his brother was chained did very little to break any of the spirit it held in bondage. Michael was...well, he was Michael. Their Father's little soldier, His sword, His champion. Lucifer knew that swords didn't bend; he knew that, ultimately, if he wanted to tear Michael down he would have to snap him in half, but he hoped that wouldn't be any time soon. No matter how frustrating it could sometimes be, the idea of Michael spending the rest of eternity as a dribbling wreck with no resistance left saddened him. That wasn't what he wanted, even if one day it was practically inevitable.
For now, Michael wasn't broken. Michael glowered at him, Michael was defiant, Michael was proud and strong, and Lucifer was more than happy to own that. It wasn't a failure to not have destroyed his beautiful, brave, older brother yet. That pitiable moment would come, and Lucifer would no doubt throw him away when it happened (who wanted to play with a broken toy?) but for now he could push back against Michael from this point of superiority, of ownership.
And if God never came, then he never came. It wouldn't only be Lucifer he was forsaking. ]
I can't corrupt you. [ He soothed, darkly, and as he did he brought his free hand up, caressing the other archangel's cheek. ] He made us too perfect for that.
[ Which of course was crap. Lucifer was himself corrupted. He could feel it; had always felt it, even after he'd given the Mark of Cain away. She lived inside of him, somehow, and he could never escape that part of him. But he wasn't having a conversation with Michael about any of that; it was by far the last thing on his mind. No, he wanted to make Michael hurt as much as he did. ]
He's abandoned you too, Michael. It didn't matter which of us won or lost, He was never coming back.
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It was just so unfair. He was tired and angry, immensely frustrated, and Michael was his best outlet. ]
Well now you're just being unreasonable. Who knew you were such a baby?
[ He tightened his grip suddenly in his brother's hair, his hand tight, and then pulling upward, dragging Michael around toward him. He could resist, of course, but... ]
Remember how you lost, and I won? I mean...
[ He rolled his shoulders, leaning forward, almost putting his face right into Michael's face. ]
Maybe I've been treating you too gently. Maybe you've gotten complacent.
[ It wouldn't surprise him. He'd been cruel to Michael, of course, but a lot of his energy had been spent on reshaping the world, too. Maybe he had been too gentle. Maybe Michael didn't realize how good he had it. If so, it was up to Lucifer to reacquaint his brother with his position. ]
How should I reeducate you?
no subject
Getting into his personal space did little more than prompt that same stubborn glare he always had ready for his brother. Lucifer played the part of Heaven's new ruler convincingly, but Michael had never recognized any authority but God's and had only ever feared the same. His younger brother would always be exactly that in his eyes: the little sibling that pitched fits when he didn't get his way.]
And yet you're the one throwing a tantrum, little brother. Is this not the victory you had in mind?
[He may have won Heaven, but Lucifer wasn't the favourite anymore. That much was plain to see even to Michael. Gone were the crowds of admiring younger siblings, and in their place was a silent, Godless Heaven. That had to sting. He had always thought Lucifer's rebellion had more to do with Lucifer's bruised ego than anything else.]
Do you really believe that you can do with me what you did with Lilith's soul? That if you beat me enough, torture me enough, I'll bow before you?
[Michael tilted his head. He still wore the same fierce scowl, but behind it he wondered if Lucifer really believed he could change him.
He'd break before he'd bend.]
no subject
For now, Michael wasn't broken. Michael glowered at him, Michael was defiant, Michael was proud and strong, and Lucifer was more than happy to own that. It wasn't a failure to not have destroyed his beautiful, brave, older brother yet. That pitiable moment would come, and Lucifer would no doubt throw him away when it happened (who wanted to play with a broken toy?) but for now he could push back against Michael from this point of superiority, of ownership.
And if God never came, then he never came. It wouldn't only be Lucifer he was forsaking. ]
I can't corrupt you. [ He soothed, darkly, and as he did he brought his free hand up, caressing the other archangel's cheek. ] He made us too perfect for that.
[ Which of course was crap. Lucifer was himself corrupted. He could feel it; had always felt it, even after he'd given the Mark of Cain away. She lived inside of him, somehow, and he could never escape that part of him. But he wasn't having a conversation with Michael about any of that; it was by far the last thing on his mind. No, he wanted to make Michael hurt as much as he did. ]
He's abandoned you too, Michael. It didn't matter which of us won or lost, He was never coming back.