my_own_advocate | The Cape Rouge, Sunday Afternoon

He just wanted to be home.

For the second time that day, Lucifer fell. Not far this time, though. Just a few inches, really. His back hit the ground? with more noise than was strictly necessary for the impact that he'd made.

Oh.

Maybe it was the other two bodies making the same impact beside him.

He stared up at the sky, disoriented for many more reasons than just the fall itself. Oh my Me, indeed.

[[ for the two other people who just got teleported across the country out of nowhere. ]]

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From:

betterthanaplan

Duke had to dig a little, but he eventually found what he was looking for. He pulled out a bottle of rum with what was clearly a handwritten label and set it on top of the cabinet while he went to look for a glass.

From:

my_own_advocate

And here Lucifer had managed to live without terrible, soul-destroying feelings of worthlessness for a few hours. It'd been nice, really.

"Yes, I'm terribly sorry I didn't want you dead," he snapped. "What exactly do you think you would've accomplished out there, hm? Clearly you two decided to fight in the end, and Duke fractured his bloody arm."

From:

okteiviakom

"You know what helps keep me alive? Telling me what the fucking plan is!"

So apparently Octavia had no intention of getting any less loud right now. Had you missed this, porgs?

"It's not about accomplishing something, it's about not being blindsided by what my side does. It's about you letting her decide that no one else needed to know." Her nails were really starting to dig into her palms now. "So you don't care that we could have helped, fine. But we also could have fucked it up because we didn't know."

From:

betterthanaplan

"Yes, Duke fractured his fucking arm," Duke said, raising his glass, which now had two fingers of very exclusive rum poured into it. "And is still in kind of a lot of pain about it so can we maybe, like . . . stop yelling? For a minute?"

Well, maybe a headache would distract from the arm pain at least.

From:

my_own_advocate

"I didn't want you there in the first place," Lucifer snapped, mostly because the words were halfway out of his mouth by the time Duke spoke.

He half-turned to glance at Duke and opted not to finish that thought. "...Didn't the doctor say you weren't supposed to be drinking?"

From:

okteiviakom

Octavia, however, stared at Lucifer like he'd just slapped her across the face.

Sorry, coupled with the feelings of betrayal she'd worked herself up into, that last snap was just...

Well, a slap. No matter how unintentional.

From:

betterthanaplan

Duke looked at his drink, crestfallen.

". . . Fuck. But the pills aren't even working yet!"

He'd taken them like ten minutes ago.

From:

my_own_advocate

"Generally, the brand of painkillers you received takes at least thirty minutes to begin working," Lucifer told him. He knew a lot about drugs, Duke, all right? "That doesn't mean combining them with alcohol won't murder your liver."

Edited Date: 22 Aug 2021 19:25 (UTC)

From:

okteiviakom

Octavia barely listened.

But when she wrenched her (hurt, betrayed, still angry) gaze away from Lucifer, she stalked over to Duke, with the intention of grabbing the glass out of his hand.

From:

betterthanaplan

And was entirely successful in doing so.

"Hey, careful," Duke said. "That's some limited edition rum there."

From:

my_own_advocate

"I'm sure we can pour it back in the bottle," Lucifer said, glancing at Octavia. "While you have a lie down."

He desperately wanted to have that lie down with Duke, actually.

From:

okteiviakom

Sorry, did he say something about pouring the rum back in the bottle? Because Octavia seemed to have heard something about downing all of it in one go.

Well, more like half of it.

But still.

From:

betterthanaplan

Duke made a little noise of protest, then just sighed.

She wasn't even enjoying it.

"Fine. Lying down. All of us, please. Without the shouting?"

From:

my_own_advocate

Lucifer sighed. "I think that doesn't depend on me," he said, doing a thing with his eyebrows at Octavia.

From:

okteiviakom

Who responded by looking away.

And then gulping down the other half.

From:

betterthanaplan

"Right." Another sigh. "Well, I'm not going anywhere until you two clear this up, then."

He went to cross his arms over his chest automatically, then winced and choked faintly when the movement sent a twinge up the one in the sling.

"Sooner would be nicer than later."

From:

my_own_advocate

Lucifer let out a difficult, messy sigh. "I don't know what you want me to say," he told Octavia.

From:

okteiviakom

"Good, because I don't want to hear any more," Octavia replied, setting the empty glass down louder than necessary.

From:

betterthanaplan

Duke threw his good arm in the air and shook his head at the ceiling.

"You know what, maybe I will go lie down alone." At this rate, his arm would be healed by the time they stopped trying to stare each other down, wouldn't it.

He wasn't nearly as hurt by Lucifer not letting them in on that part of the plan as Octavia was, though he did see why she was hurt by it.

"When you two get around to remembering that no one's dead who wasn't before we all went into that battle, you get to come join me."

From:

my_own_advocate

You had a type, Crocker, and unfortunately, this was the way that type tended to resolve - or fail to resolve - their differences.

Lucifer wished he'd beaten Octavia to the expensive booze. "I'm happy to let things lie," he said.

From:

okteiviakom

"Surprise," Octavia drawled. "You go with him, then."

She wasn't just hurt, she was angry still, too.

From:

betterthanaplan

"Nope!" Duke said. "No one comes in until you two are actually okay, not just faking it. Enjoy the booze."

With that he headed into the bedroom, shut the door behind him, and face-planted on his bed.

His bed. His wonderful, amazing, comfortable bed with excellent sheets and room for three and . . . fuck, it smelled kinda musty in here.

He let out a long, frustrated groan and tried not to listen to whatever was going to happen in the next room. He was injured, and they were home, so he got to take a time out on trying to manage his two hotheads, dammit.