maddest | [video, voice] what goes around comes around

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[video, voice] what goes around comes around

[The device flicks on. Static.

Then, purple- only purple. White. Break's coat, the beautiful off-the-shoulder, white one that he lost almost a year ago during that episode with all of the blood. It's back in one piece.]

What-

[Then the feed flicks off. On again, very briefly, as he bangs it on the table. Sound.

Then to video- there's Break's elbow, Emily's dress.

On. Rap rap rap. Someone's knocking it against a table to see if it can be broken open.]

-why does it keep chirping, Emily?

[This is almost exactly how he arrived, nearly two years ago to the day. And here we are, come full circle, about to smash the PCD on a table corner in idle, non-technologically oriented curiosity.]

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[For a few moments, Lucifer just...watches.]

[dryly, carefully, in Nick's voice of all things--shut up, Allen, don't think too hard about it]

If the chirping bothers you this much, you'll love all the chickens around here.

[Silence, on Break's end.]

[He lets it linger, and when he speaks he keeps his voice butter-soft and purring]

Did I lose you somewhere?

[He clears his throat.]

I'm here. Chickens?

If that's the strangest thing about all of this for you, I'm impressed, Xerxes.

Who are you? How do I know you? Where am I and what is going on?

[A long, long pause--at least it seems that way.]

I don't really want to waste my time telling you things you're going to hear a dozen times from other people. It's a quirk of mine.

Then I'll get it just once, out of you.

I'm Lucifer. [how to describe how they know each other? 'Friendship' isn't a word Lucifer would use seriously in any sentence he stars in. So he glosses over that]

And you can get the details from your many admirers; they'll be falling all over each other in a minute.

I want to talk in person.

Now, that's just reckless. [Musingly] It's nice to see that some things haven't changed.

Where, and when?

Right now, and I don't know.

I'll come to you, then.

Good.

Just close your eyes and say a prayer.

Me? A lightening bolt would get me.

Not if you substitute my name for the usual.

Je vous salue, Lucifer, pleine de grâce.
Le Seigneur est avec vous.
Vous êtes bénie entre toutes les femmes ,
et Jésus, le fruit de vos entrailles, est béni.

[Break's prayers contain mpreg, apparently.]

[And it has Lucifer snickering by the time he lands, a few seconds later.]

Well, that's a first.

I've always liked the french better. 'Fruit of your entrails' indeed.

That must be why it's the Language of Love.

So, who's offered to take you in?

No one. You're misremembering me.

Mmmno, no, you see I'm not the one who's had his memory polished clean.

And yet-

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