"If they exist." Lucifer commented on the idea of trinkets. He owned nothing of the woman he had once loved, mostly because ownership and sentiment to items wasn't yet a part of experience. How he wished he had those at times.
The conversation is treading into dangerous ground for the angel, where emotions would run high and outbursts were likely. For the moment he contentedly sat drinking and keeping the topics at an arms distance from his feelings. "What I possess has been given freely as gifts."
The question about his possessions gives the angel pause and reason to cast an analytical gaze on the vampire long before speaking. "The Moonlight Sonata, written for a woman, a student of his, who loved him and was fair skinned. They say she had the voice and grace of an angel."
Lucifer was certainly implying what it sounded like. There were occasions when he walked among humans for reasons of his own, or sometimes because his heart would have nothing else. The arrogant, wild musician had always felt, to the angel, as if he were watching some part of himself, primal and uncontrolled, create on its own. "I have a few pieces of drafts from the 5th and 9th symphonies when the pieces eluded him and spurned his anger to throw vials of ink on the books."
The fondness is there, and a cadence to Lucifer's speech. He wasn't speaking of events he had read of, or seen off hand but things he had been involved in and remembered more than one dress ruined to a tantrum written in ink. "The 9th he insisted I have his finished draft for his undue harassment of my voice and person."
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Date: 2020-03-24 06:06 pm (UTC)The conversation is treading into dangerous ground for the angel, where emotions would run high and outbursts were likely. For the moment he contentedly sat drinking and keeping the topics at an arms distance from his feelings. "What I possess has been given freely as gifts."
The question about his possessions gives the angel pause and reason to cast an analytical gaze on the vampire long before speaking. "The Moonlight Sonata, written for a woman, a student of his, who loved him and was fair skinned. They say she had the voice and grace of an angel."
Lucifer was certainly implying what it sounded like. There were occasions when he walked among humans for reasons of his own, or sometimes because his heart would have nothing else. The arrogant, wild musician had always felt, to the angel, as if he were watching some part of himself, primal and uncontrolled, create on its own. "I have a few pieces of drafts from the 5th and 9th symphonies when the pieces eluded him and spurned his anger to throw vials of ink on the books."
The fondness is there, and a cadence to Lucifer's speech. He wasn't speaking of events he had read of, or seen off hand but things he had been involved in and remembered more than one dress ruined to a tantrum written in ink. "The 9th he insisted I have his finished draft for his undue harassment of my voice and person."