The Samsara, Port of Fandom, Friday Morning

[okteiviakom]

Octavia had spent most of yesterday out in the woods. And then, although she'd been home on the Rouge for dinner, she'd chosen to sleep over on her own boat, instead. It hadn't saved her from the nightmares - so much blood, and so many people telling her she wasn't worth anything - but it had saved her from unwillingly bleeding any trauma onto Duke, so... Win?

It didn't feel like one.

And now it was morning, and still kind of groggy and exhausted, Octavia had just climbed up onto the deck of her boat, with a bottle of water and whatever snacks she'd had stashed away, for breakfast. She looked up at the sky. All those clouds did not bode well.

Edward and his crew had had the right idea, getting the fuck away from the island.

[ooc: So open! ETA: content warning for (remembered) cannibalism, self-harm and suicidal ideation.]

Comments

[okteiviakom]

"Took away the choice," said Indra's voice.

Octavia shook her head, trying to will herself out of this. She had the odd sensation of being in two places at once, and she was trying to grab onto the one she knew was real.

But it was slipping through her grasp.

[my_own_advocate]

"Why?" Amenadiel demanded.

"Well, you were right," Lucifer said. "Severing the wings was a half-measure. I did leave myself an out, a rip cord back to the life that dear old Dad chose for me. But I don't need it now. Because, in case I haven't made myself abundantly clear, I'm never going back to Hell."

He spread his arms. Took a few steps again, and patted Amenadiel on the shoulder. "But A for effort. I'm sure Dad will give you a big gold star for trying."

He knew that would make Amenadiel angry. That was part of the draw. Part of the punishment, for trying to manipulate him this way.

It worked. Worked almost too well. With a scream, Amenadiel launched himself at Lucifer, lifted him bodily off the ground and slammed him down in the sand and then kept punching and punching and punching--

And Lucifer just laughed even as the blood dripped from his nose. "That's right! Hit me brother! Go on, again! Become like me! Become Wrath! Fall as I did!"

He was laughing even as Amenadiel retreated, horrified.

Lucifer had always been one for living in the moment. It was wrecking him now; he had no grasp at all.

[okteiviakom]

And Octavia's slipped further away. Something was flooding in.

The memory was much more indistinct than the version Duke's mind had already played for Lucifer. Feelings, impressions, more than anytthing else. Her fist, bleeding. The thump of her head bouncing off a steel wall.

The wild sound of her laugh, spitting up blood.

"Do that again."

The promise of destruction. A deeper want for it, desperation roiling to a crescendo, blood, chin, hands, face. No more gravity.

No more air. Graying out.

[my_own_advocate]

It was easier to swim in images that weren't his own. Even if reaching for her hand - her actual hand - felt more like flailing about trying to reach a wet, still-moving fish.

"Octavia?"

[okteiviakom]

Choking.

Then gravity again, air flowing in. Despair. Begging, pleading. Crushed to powder.

Alone.

Octavia didn't feel herself desperately gripping Lucifer's hand before the last of the memory faded, and she gasped in a breath.

The realization that her cheeks were wet came soon after, but felt inconsequential at best.

[my_own_advocate]

"Octavia," Lucifer said, eyes a bit panicked.

Never had the sun's rays felt like such a relief.

[okteiviakom]

The next few breaths came a little bit too quickly while Octavia tried to blink the blur out of her eyes.

She managed to loosen her death grip on his hand to some degree, though.

[my_own_advocate]

"Are you all right?" Lucifer asked, because-- well, he honestly didn't know what else to do.

[okteiviakom]

Well, at least there was a quick and clear answer to that question.

"No." Octavia shook her head. Her expression was hardening already, even as she tried to even out her breathing. "I hate this."

[my_own_advocate]

"We're both agreed on that," Lucifer said, running his hand over his hair.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia finally pulled her hand away.

She looked across the water. It was pretty clear she was considering the merits of trying for the mainland.

[my_own_advocate]

"I'm giving it one more day for this nonsense to clear out," Lucifer said, opening up the brandy, since it was there.

[okteiviakom]

"That's a long time," Octavia rasped.

[my_own_advocate]

"I expect to spend most of it drinking."

[okteiviakom]

"Fair."

She'd gone a little... distant.

She looked at the rest of the sandwiches, but could not conjure up any of her previous hunger, anymore.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer took a swig from the brandy bottle.

After a moment's thought, he offered it to her.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia shook her head without even looking over.

"No."

[my_own_advocate]

"Your loss," Lucifer said, and took another hearty swig.

[okteiviakom]

"You burned your wings," Octavia rasped flatly after a moment, still staring off towards the horizon. "That's a little heavy on the metaphor, don't you think?"

[my_own_advocate]

"Seemed like the easiest way to tell my family to get lost at the time," Lucifer muttered.

[okteiviakom]

"Did it work?"

[my_own_advocate]

"A few weeks later my mother turned up," Lucifer said, "and after I finally got her to leave, I woke up in the desert with them nailed back onto my back."

There was a brief, fleeting flash of a pile of bloody wings in a closet that lasted less than an eyeblink.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia sighed.

And held her hand out for the bottle, after all.

[my_own_advocate]

He handed it over. "Seivarden still won't shut up about them," he said.

[okteiviakom]

"The wings?" Octavia asked, though only after a hearty swig. "Why?"