A Maladjusted Jester

Sure.

[No smiles here, either.]

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[He sends him x,y coordinates. Not his home- one of the buildings in the city.]

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[And Horst arrives ten minutes later or so, and greets Break with a slight nod.]

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[Lucifer usually doesn't bother with these stupid PCD's. But.]

Why, Xerxes, you look like hell.

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What is going on?

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No, not really.

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With?

[Meaning: what don't you know already?]

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[Smile]

No, not yet. My mistake.

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My aunt Maude.

[Dry as sand.]

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Hell, in my experience, has more checkers, blood, and tea.

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[He tosses his coat on a pile of rubble]

Your guess is as good as mine. You probably know more than I do and, really, what can we do?

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tophsmash.livejournal.com

I'd play, but card games don't really do it for me.

[Kind of hard when you can't see the card.]

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Well we've kept the checkers, but the tea ran out some time ago.

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I have someone I can ask.

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Well, then, there's hardly any point.

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Mm. Same trouble.

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...I'm not sure if there's an explanation beyond the obvious one. He's suffering, he's desperate. Desperate men do stupid things.

[But he can't completely squash the hope that maybe, maybe there's something they can do.]

Who can you talk to?

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I don't think you're grasping the point of Hell, then.

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I can't say. But I'll tell you what I find.

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Perhaps not. But then, it didn't particularly grasp me- I did get out, after all. So perhaps the feeling is mutual.

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Well, then I think I like you better than I like most of the people here.

Can you ask them now...?

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I can't say we miss you down there. It is nice to see you keep so busy aboveground.

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I don't think you can really speak for my Abyss.

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I'm sorry. It's a waiting game, now.

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