[ Adam’s used to people scrambling to pick up after him. Angels, demons, whoever. Just... not a Sinner Overlord. That’s a new low. Or high. Whatever. The point is, the mask can stay on the damn floor for now. He’ll shove it back on when he feels like it. He doesn’t exactly enjoy being seen without it, brand recognition and all that, also he feels vulnerable as fuck being seen, but Lucifer being a wreck kinda overrode his usual "look untouchable" policy. ]
Yeah? Cool. Awesome. That shit sounds like a fantastic little trauma dump we can circle back to literally any other fuckin’ day, my guy. Because I would absolutely loooove to hear every fuckin gritty, emotional detail. Riveting stuff. Surviving the exterminations, let's make a fuckin TV show of it...
[ He’s gotta hand it to Vox, though. The guy doesn’t rattle easily. That’s... rare. Impressive, even. Plenty of angels have folded under Adam’s glare alone. Vox? Barely blinking. Huh. Mental note taken. ]
...Fuck.
[ He squints at him, trying to decide if he even means the next part. Hard to tell when it’s him talking. ]
You think you could pull that same stunt on me?
[ Is that a challenge? A joke? A genuine question? Even Adam’s not totally sure. He exhales sharply through his nose and eyes the lineup of bottles like they're something he's never seen before. Wine’s usually his speed, classy, ancient, very "first man on Earth" vibes, but whatever. He slumps against the bar beside Vox, shooting a glance over his shoulder to make sure Lucifer’s still... there, still breathing. Still stubborn. ]
You actually gave him an out, and he didn’t take it? Man, that’s— that’s just... that shits brutal. Damn.
[ He drags a hand back through his messy chestnut hair, then down over his face with a long groan before side-eyeing Vox like the guy just proposed something insane. ]
Whiskey. You said it first, so that means it’s the best one, right? That’s how this works.
[ In Adam’s head, the logic is airtight. First man? Best man. First drink mentioned? Obviously top-tier. Duh. ]
[And at once, with a few simple remarks, Adam establishes himself as one of the most frustrating people in this world to Vox. He asked why he's never seen Vox in person before, Vox explained why in the most clinical way possible, and somehow Adam still manages to twist it around to something as pathetic as trauma dumping. Not only is that the most callous way to refer to genocide he's ever heard, it's insulting on the highest personal level. There is no trauma to dump because Vox was powerful enough and smart enough to avoid any of that. Fuck this guy.
Needless to say, he's not pulling 'the same stunt' on Adam, because he's not giving this man a single excuse to try and deliver some real trauma.]
Whiskey it is.
[He uncaps the bottle and, since the First Man here seemed a little unclear on what's even being presented to him, takes some ice cubes out of the freezer. It's not much in terms of watering it down unless Adam lets the glass stand for a while, but at least the offer's there. It raises the question of whether Heaven has any kind of hard liquor, and if not, whether Adam's ever had the chance to try anything like this. It's a hilarious thought that Vox will try not to focus on too hard, lest the amusement shows on his face.]
[For a while, he does dimly register voices. There aren't any emotions for a bit, because it's a lot like listening to a radio broadcast he feels no attachment towards.
Eventually, Lucifer's eyes open, and there's a clearly dazed look; he stares up at the ceiling for a moment...
Then his eyes shift towards Vox, expression hardening as his mind replays that moment before unconsciousness with absolute clarity. He won't be talking anytime soon, but it doesn't stop the Look he gives before he closes his eyes.
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Yeah? Cool. Awesome. That shit sounds like a fantastic little trauma dump we can circle back to literally any other fuckin’ day, my guy. Because I would absolutely loooove to hear every fuckin gritty, emotional detail. Riveting stuff. Surviving the exterminations, let's make a fuckin TV show of it...
[ He’s gotta hand it to Vox, though. The guy doesn’t rattle easily. That’s... rare. Impressive, even. Plenty of angels have folded under Adam’s glare alone. Vox? Barely blinking. Huh. Mental note taken. ]
...Fuck.
[ He squints at him, trying to decide if he even means the next part. Hard to tell when it’s him talking. ]
You think you could pull that same stunt on me?
[ Is that a challenge? A joke? A genuine question? Even Adam’s not totally sure. He exhales sharply through his nose and eyes the lineup of bottles like they're something he's never seen before. Wine’s usually his speed, classy, ancient, very "first man on Earth" vibes, but whatever. He slumps against the bar beside Vox, shooting a glance over his shoulder to make sure Lucifer’s still... there, still breathing. Still stubborn. ]
You actually gave him an out, and he didn’t take it? Man, that’s— that’s just... that shits brutal. Damn.
[ He drags a hand back through his messy chestnut hair, then down over his face with a long groan before side-eyeing Vox like the guy just proposed something insane. ]
Whiskey. You said it first, so that means it’s the best one, right? That’s how this works.
[ In Adam’s head, the logic is airtight. First man? Best man. First drink mentioned? Obviously top-tier. Duh. ]
no subject
Needless to say, he's not pulling 'the same stunt' on Adam, because he's not giving this man a single excuse to try and deliver some real trauma.]
Whiskey it is.
[He uncaps the bottle and, since the First Man here seemed a little unclear on what's even being presented to him, takes some ice cubes out of the freezer. It's not much in terms of watering it down unless Adam lets the glass stand for a while, but at least the offer's there. It raises the question of whether Heaven has any kind of hard liquor, and if not, whether Adam's ever had the chance to try anything like this. It's a hilarious thought that Vox will try not to focus on too hard, lest the amusement shows on his face.]
You wanna pour it yourself?
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Eventually, Lucifer's eyes open, and there's a clearly dazed look; he stares up at the ceiling for a moment...
Then his eyes shift towards Vox, expression hardening as his mind replays that moment before unconsciousness with absolute clarity. He won't be talking anytime soon, but it doesn't stop the Look he gives before he closes his eyes.
Fucking asshole.]