Lucifer's Mansion, Sunday Night

[okteiviakom]

Octavia had been feeling kind of... restless, this week. But keeping it to herself, because Duke had been having a rougher time, and anyway, it was fine. This feeling came and went, and Octavia was used to it.

(Though it really would have been great if Dr. Baker had been able to squeeze her in during some other time this week, after the regular Tuesday session got cancelled.)

It was Sunday now, anyway. Food and cider and hopefully a good time? Octavia had even channeled some of her twitchiness into prepping dessert, earlier. "The fruit's all ready in the fridge," she said, as she got up to clear away the dinner plates. "The white chocolate on them should have set by now."

Spoken like she actually knew anything and hadn't just grabbed the instructions from Google this morning.

[ooc: For the guy.]

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[okteiviakom]

Octavia heard him. Didn't do anything - including not putting more distance between them, so at least there was that.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Something like shame was starting to trickle through the white noise in her ears. Maybe that was good? Embarrassment had its uses, though finding words would have been better.

[my_own_advocate]

"I'm going to touch you now," Lucifer said slowly.

He was. He reached for her shoulder.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia did nothing. So, she let him.

Thinking about blood on concrete. Wasn't that what her mind always did? Eventually all fuzzy chaos began narrowing down to blood.

[my_own_advocate]

"Octavia," Lucifer said slowly. "Breathe."

[okteiviakom]

Octavia made the tiniest, softest, affronted-helpless noise.

She was doing her best, here. In, nose, out, mouth.

[my_own_advocate]

"Right, right," Lucifer muttered. "Sorry. It's just-- the only thing I can say."

[okteiviakom]

The hand on her shoulder wasn't enough pressure, wasn't enough anything, but Octavia didn't really have the words to communicate that right now. Or anything else useful, either.

She was trying to work up to it, honest, she was.

Her knuckles were white, her nails pressing into her palms.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer wasn't thinking about pressure, so much. But he did notice her hands.

"Be careful with that," he murmured, sneaking an arm around her so he could... slide his hand over one of those knuckles. "If you need to grip something, grip me."

[okteiviakom]

Octavia's fist jerked away from his hand, in a way that seemed purely reflexive.

The way she practically shoved her back against his chest, less so.

[my_own_advocate]

... Erm. Well. All right.

Lucifer's arms slid around her waist in a move part-reflex, part-desperately trying to roll with it.

He didn't know what else to do, either.

[okteiviakom]

He was doing what Octavia had oh so clearly instructed him to do. That was all that mattered, whether he knew he was doing it or not.

... Though guess she could pull her verbal skills together enough for at least a little adjustment:

"Tighter."

[my_own_advocate]

"Right," Lucifer muttered, faintly apologetic.

He tightened his grip.

[okteiviakom]

He didn't need to be. Octavia might even tell him so, later. He was doing the best he could.

She didn't relax, but there was some kind of shift in her posture as soon as she felt his arms tighten around her. Pressure was better, more grounding, more here. Not as much -- back there.

On a planet with no future.

Her voice sounded thin. "You've seen the... entire human history, and you say most, or many people have disappointed you." She swallowed. Shuddered. Lost even more of her voice. "So what did I fight for?"

[my_own_advocate]

"What did you--?"

Sorry, Octavia. Lucifer was struggling to keep up. "What? When?"

[okteiviakom]

"When I became champion." The shuddering would just continue, now. "When I got locked underground with everyone who was left."

[my_own_advocate]

Ah, so that was where she'd wound up.

"Niron, even people who've personally disappointed me deserve to live," Lucifer said. "If we start weeding humans out based on personal slights, it gets messy and problematic rather quickly."

[okteiviakom]

"But it's a pattern."

[my_own_advocate]

"It doesn't matter," Lucifer said. "The bloody madness of Hell is all these humans storming the gates, demanding to be let in because they're upset with themselves for-- not feeding their puppy or having a bad day in front of their children or just being moderately annoying for a longer period of time. And then they punish themselves forever for some stupid lapse of judgment while real, unrepentant villains walk away untouched."

Right. He should probably get to the bit where this was relevant, wasn't it?

"There has to be a sense of justice to the universe," he said. "We can't just go around condemning people to suffer and die because they were a let down. That's not a crime. That's just-- most humans being a bit shit a lot of the time."

[okteiviakom]

Octavia could not follow how that was relevant, alas. 'I love you because you are different' was one of several things still hanging heavy over this conversation, and for reasons Octavia couldn't really put into words.

"None of that matters."

Not helpful and she knew it, but the most helpful thing she was currently doing was not running away somewhere else to wait for this feeling to pass - and even that was on thin ice right now.

[my_own_advocate]

She'd heard that one very differently from how he'd intended it, hadn't she?

"You saving human lives because they didn't deserve to die doesn't matter?" Lucifer asked, frowning. "What does, then?"

[okteiviakom]

Octavia had heard a lot of things differently from how he'd intended them. Was continuing to, even.

"What, when -- No, all of that about Hell and justice doesn't matter." Her face was scrunching up hard, not that he could probably see more than a sliver of it. "It's not about that."

And she had just enough of her faculties to know what question would be coming next if she left it at that.

"It's about -- about feeling worthless because someone ancient, someone who's seen so much of us, doesn't see more good in us."

[my_own_advocate]

There was-- a long pause, and a blink (not that she could see it), and then, finally, a, "I think you're reading rather more into this than I intended for there to be, love."

[okteiviakom]

"I can't help it!"

But that much had probably already become clear.

[my_own_advocate]

"I noticed." Lucifer's grip tightened yet a little more. "To somewhat echo your earlier point, however, 'disappointing' and 'worthless' are two very different things," he said. "In fact, I'd argue it's rather hard to be disappointed in something you find worthless. Setting aside context, which was about your desserts, and where I would personally say that someone cooking a ribeye well-done was already disappointing... when I am disappointed on some larger scale, it is because I am aware of the great heights humans can reach."

[okteiviakom]

Octavia still felt a little sick, and was finding it hard to put together any sort of an argument when everything was so muddled.

But he was holding her tighter. His chest was warm against her back, even through all the clothes, and the press of his body against hers was a soothing thing.

Something in her shoulders finally gave in, with a shudder. "Go on," she muttered weakly.