hey there passengers, it's me, ya commissary

[dealwiththe]

Passengers: Everyone (get in here)
Location: Ye Olde Commissary
Date: March 1-7
Summary: Put tickets in, get knives, foam wives, and novelty t-shirts out (sorry I couldn't think of another rhyme)
Warnings: Will add as needed.


[ Ooooooooooooooh.... ]

Comments

[prinks]

There is an urge to dismiss the little images, but Penitence refuses to grow old in such a block-headed fashion. God rest Rupert, but he was a study in how to become curmudgeonly.

"Like fleurons?" She types out some that she found earlier, in another 'menu'.

☙ ❦ ❧

"I ran a printing press when I was younger," she says, by way of explanation. There is something like pride in her voice; it feels good to admit it, in a place she likely won't be arrested for it.

[dealwiththe]

"Oh, nice," Lucifer says, all enthusiasm. The old timey lady had a job, too! Clearly she's forward-thinking. Lucifer's always liked the forward-thinking ones best.

"Emojis are a way to communicate feelings, gestures, sometimes even entire phrases or sentences," he explains further. "I might add the smiling face at the end of a sentence in text to indicate that I'm happy about something. A crying face if I'm sad. They can be like pictograms, almost their own language."

[prinks]

She's not familiar with the term pictogram, but she can easily grasp the meaning. "Would you mind showing me an example?"

The thought of not being able to communicate has always been a touchy thing.

[dealwiththe]

"Hmm."

Lucifer takes back his CommLink, then types a bit on it. Finally, he shows it to her.

🥳 🚀 🤝 😈

"That means 'welcome to the space ship, looking forward to working with you, my name is Lucifer'."

[prinks]

Well, that's... rather cheeky, to be honest.

"How polite of Lucifer," she says, wry. It's blasphemous, but she's not eighteen anymore, and shocked by such things. This fellow before her lacks the makeup, the wigs and wig-powder, the high heels and the corsetry, but he is reminding her more and more of men about court-- a kinder version, surely; he doesn't exist primarily to mock. But something about him seems overfond of presentation.

[dealwiththe]

He is, indeed, cheeky. And overfond of presentation. But he tries not to be a dick.

"I can be very polite," he says easily. "We're here for a purpose, after all. No need to start off on the wrong foot when we're working toward the same goal."

[prinks]

"You. Yes, quite."

And like any self-serious man of the court, he's fond of shock and spectacle as well. Next he'll declare himself Lucifer, and make a joke about his horns- she stifles a laugh at the thought, and attempts to steal his thunder.

"You are Lucifer, then, with a horned mantle?" She holds up her fingers, crowning his head with curved horns from her perspective.

Of course, in her time, any 'horned' man was cuckolded, the butt of many a joke.

[dealwiththe]

"Lucifer, yes, horns, no," he says easily. Like he's talking about normal things, like a normal person. Straightforward, informative. He's not sneering or preening, just telling it like it is. "Lots of people assume that. I've never been quite sure where the idea came from, since I've never had horns. Even at my scariest. Or a tail. Or cloven hooves."

He does have wings, though!

"And what should I call you, madam?"

Hey, she's old-timey, right? He knows the courtesies. He's been around. Forever.

[prinks]

There is something gained, in being a mother, a sort of fond tiredness around the eyes that makes itself known, here. Her expression says, come, now. She isn't taking him seriously.

"You really mean to have me call you Lucifer, don't you?"

[dealwiththe]

It's one of the more normal reactions, honestly. Lucifer knows that look well. The sort of this is a joke, right? kind of look. Some of his best friends and loved ones have given him that look, many times!

"That's my name. I prefer it to Beelzebub, anyway. And yes, I can assure you, I am the real deal, so to speak. But I'm not evil. I'm more than happy to tell you the whole sordid story if you want to hear it, but the short version is, I've reconciled with my celestial family, I changed around the rules of Hell a bit so I could help souls escape and get to Heaven, but I'm taking a short sabbatical to help someone here."

Got all that?

[prinks]

"A fan of Milton, I see."

She hasn't read the poem herself, but Benedick snuck a copy home once, attempting to scandalize Dudley. Penitence, refusing to breed superstition into the children, had forced them to read it aloud, to take all the mystery and allure out of a book about the Devil.

"I prefer Marlowe, personally."

If they're talking about stories of devilish sin, Penitence prefers the play to the poem.

[dealwiththe]

Lucifer shrugs. "Milton was probably the closest to getting my origin story right, but it's still riddled with inaccuracies. Marlowe understood the basic premise of the deal but everything else was pulled out of his arse. I've never dealt in human souls."

[prinks]

If the man's delusional, he's at least polite about it. Most of the court fops she encounters can't go a minute without calling her a whore-- which is what she expected, after she implied he was a cuckold. All told, this 'Lucifer' is more polite than most of the men she's met. Far politer than Henry King, that's for sure.

"Alright, then." She'll indulge him. "What did you deal in, O Evil One?"

[dealwiththe]

Hey, Lucifer would never call a lady a whore! Not unless she asked him to, of course.

"Not evil," he corrects her. "Really. I doubt I'd be a warden here if I was. And when I still made deals - I mostly don't these days - I dealt in perfectly normal human desires. Money, power, influence, sex, that sort of thing. Desire is what I did, and I had a lot of fun with it for a long time. But I'm reformed, these days. And here to help someone else reform, just as you are, I suspect."

[prinks]

"I should hope so. I daren't presume to have the fortitude needed reform Satan Himself."

It's such a strange thing to think, she can't quite stifle a laugh.

"What do you think of this place, then? Beyond the Chapel, which you of course cannot enter."

[dealwiththe]

"My therapist probably wouldn't have thought she did, either, and yet - here I am," he says with a fond chuckle. Linda is so great.

"As far as this place is concerned, it's all right. A bit austere for my taste, and I would've hoped for an open bar, but I'm not here to drink. I just missed liquor in Hell."

[prinks]

Penitence has learned to ignore the words she doesn't know the meaning of. Therapist. It all sounds rather Greek.

"Of course. The liquor in Hell must be second only to the wine in Heaven." But she's curious- "what changes would you make?"

[dealwiththe]

"The alcohol on Earth will always be superior," Lucifer says lightly. Humans just... know how to do it best.

Her question gives him pause, however. He has to actually consider it for a moment. "It would probably be good to know more about what the inmates actually did to land them here," he says thoughtfully after a moment. "Having some basic facts about them can help a lot in knowing how to approach them. I like hearing their perspective on it, because that helps, too, but some of them are prone to lying, of course."