[This is a jailcell. The odds are it's even one in a human prison. You don't want to know what the devil is doing here.
Lucifer sits, throwing a baseball against one of the walls. With any luck the constant thud, thud, thud of the baseball hitting the wall will drive his cellmate at least a little crazy. Noticing humans is generally beneath his dignity, but he's bored, and what are humans good for but for entertaining him (and dying, but there's no need for that just now).]
[If Michael had any idea that his new bunkmate was the Devil he might've found some bitter humor or irony in it. He could be trapped with Lucifer for any number of reasons really, even if he isn't a religious man. He wasn't a bad man either, but some would say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Or something to that effect.
Michael isn't thrilled to be locked up again but he supposes it was bound to happen all things considered. It seemed his lot in life really. Things can only go so good for so long before it comes back to bite him in the ass. He's laying on the top bunk arms folded behind his head as he stares up at the cracks in the ceiling and thinks. He's trying to figure out how he's going to get out of this one, or if he wants to get out of it. He should serve his time for the things he's done, his own guilt is telling him that much. Linc and LJ are safe. Maybe he's better off right here. It's where he seems to end up anyway, where fate wants him. Or maybe it's just the Company at work again, keeping him somewhere where they can keep an eye on him.
Or maybe this is hell and he's dead. Or maybe it's a nightmare and he'll wake up any minute. Maybe he's just finally going insane.
He closes his eyes as the constant thud, thud, thud finally breaks his concentration despite how he was trying to ignore it. He shifts to sit at the edge of his bunk then drops down onto his feet, catching the ball before it returns to Lucifer's fingers.]
[Lucifer was used to cages and cells. He'd spent a long time in one in particular. The jury was out on whether the company was better here. Company was nice, but humans were humans.
He ignores Michael's question, studying his empty palm. What a rude young man this Michael is. Lucifer opens and closes his hand once or twice, then looks up.
[He's studying the ball a moment, turning it in his fingers and contemplating, calculating if he can use it for anything. Then he glances to his cell mate and it occurs to him that he doesn't really remember being brought here or how long it's been.]
Good behavior? [Though he can't imagine they'd let them keep something like this in a cell normally. Out on the yard maybe but usually things like that are given back and stored. He gives the ball a toss back to Lucifer.]
I don't think we've met. [Was Lucifer here first? Did he just arrive? Why can't he remember any of this?]
I'm Michael. [Offering the man his hand for a shake.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
:'D
Lucifer sits, throwing a baseball against one of the walls. With any luck the constant thud, thud, thud of the baseball hitting the wall will drive his cellmate at least a little crazy. Noticing humans is generally beneath his dignity, but he's bored, and what are humans good for but for entertaining him (and dying, but there's no need for that just now).]
no subject
Michael isn't thrilled to be locked up again but he supposes it was bound to happen all things considered. It seemed his lot in life really. Things can only go so good for so long before it comes back to bite him in the ass. He's laying on the top bunk arms folded behind his head as he stares up at the cracks in the ceiling and thinks. He's trying to figure out how he's going to get out of this one, or if he wants to get out of it. He should serve his time for the things he's done, his own guilt is telling him that much. Linc and LJ are safe. Maybe he's better off right here. It's where he seems to end up anyway, where fate wants him. Or maybe it's just the Company at work again, keeping him somewhere where they can keep an eye on him.
Or maybe this is hell and he's dead. Or maybe it's a nightmare and he'll wake up any minute. Maybe he's just finally going insane.
He closes his eyes as the constant thud, thud, thud finally breaks his concentration despite how he was trying to ignore it. He shifts to sit at the edge of his bunk then drops down onto his feet, catching the ball before it returns to Lucifer's fingers.]
Where did you get this thing?
no subject
He ignores Michael's question, studying his empty palm. What a rude young man this Michael is. Lucifer opens and closes his hand once or twice, then looks up.
His eyes meet Michael's.] Oh, you know. Around.
no subject
Good behavior? [Though he can't imagine they'd let them keep something like this in a cell normally. Out on the yard maybe but usually things like that are given back and stored. He gives the ball a toss back to Lucifer.]
I don't think we've met. [Was Lucifer here first? Did he just arrive? Why can't he remember any of this?]
I'm Michael. [Offering the man his hand for a shake.]