themuseabandonsyou | Deerington IC Inbox

I'd rather be naïve than give up on people. I'd rather have too much hope than forget how to hope in the first place.

[ He raises his chin, defiant and serious, though there's a certain sadness to it too. ]

I'm sorry that happened to someone you cared about. That's awful. But wouldn't you rather try for a world where there are more people like him, instead of swearing revenge on the people who tore him down? Wouldn't that be a better way to show appreciation for who he was?

[ Maybe it's assuming a lot, that Sam cared about whoever it is he's talking about, but Orpheus feels there must be some part of this being that loved or at least had some affection for someone else, once upon a time. He genuinely can't comprehend the idea of living so long without finding at least one person who seemed worthy. ]

Oh, [ says Orpheus, trying to take all of that in. A celestial being that can't just take on a mortal form as he pleases, like the gods of Orpheus's world can, but has to steal someone else's body. And not just anyone's, but someone born specifically for him. ]

That... sounds terrible. And you couldn't just refuse? [ He assumes that would be too simple. If all it would've taken to stop someone as cruel as the archangel was refusing to let him have an Earthly form in the first place, then who wouldn't? ] Or did he lie about what he was going to do? I know angels are supposed to be the nice ones, according to some people.

[ According to Michael, who admittedly at the time was having a bit of a crisis over whether he was inherently evil for being a demon. ]

[Bitter-voiced:]

Angels are dicks. Mostly.

[That 'mostly' is tacked on only because Anna and Castiel come to mind (and even then, Anna ended up turning, too; he couldn't really... blame her, though). But the rest of them...? He could pitch them all into the ocean.]

He had to have my consent, to possess me; I have to say yes. I didn't, for a long time, but... he had a lot of ways of, uh — of wearing me down, I guess you could say. [He bites his nail, growing quiet for a moment as a wave of memories wash over him. Dark hotel rooms, angry hunters, Jessica's (Lucifer's) ice-cold hand pressing against his cheek.] ... Angels are notoriously good at getting what they want.

[It is assuming a lot, because it's assuming Lucifer didn't help in tearing Sam Winchester down.

Which, for the record, he pleads the fifth.

But ah, he's Sam Winchester right now, isn't he? Good ol' Sammy.]

Oh, it's not revenge. It's a cleansing. [The space around them darkens, grows colder and colder still.] A cleansing I'm more than happy to do to this cursed little town, the stronger I get. I'll make a world he'd appreciate, alright; one that is full of life — just... without humans.

[He smiles slightly, eyes glowing red in the dimness.]

Say, don't you have a girl to fail? Can't you hear her hopelessness?

Oh. That's a shame. [ Angels being dicks, he means. Not that the rest of it isn't also a shame, technically, but it's kind of an understatement. ]

I probably can't even imagine what he did to get you to agree, [ says Orpheus, quietly. Sam - or, the Archangel - only seemed passingly familiar with Orpheus's situation, and he still managed to be plenty creative in tormenting him. If he'd been watching Sam his whole life... ] I'm sorry. No one deserves to have their fate tied up with someone like that.

[ Orpheus goes quiet at Sam's last question, straining his ears to listen for Eurydice's voice. He doesn't hear her, though, just the distant rumble of machinery and the ringing of pickaxes against stone. He shakes his head. ]

She's not here, [ he says, and it comes out defiant because maybe that's a good thing. Even if this is a dream, he doesn't want to see what Sam would do to her, for the sake of cruelty or to get a rise out of him. For once he's grateful that this dream in particular always ends with him alone. ]

It's just us here. You don't get to see her. [ Sam doesn't get to use her memory against him. Not so directly, anyway. ]

[I probably can't even imagine what he did to get you to agree. The shame and guilt that crosses Sam's face when Orpheus speaks is probably enough of a response. Years of history, none of it good, paints him with an aura of weariness.

But at the apology, Sam perks, looks - a little baffled, before he chuckles.]

... You might be one of the first people to say that.

Thanks.

[He bites his lip, quiet for a moment.]

I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to stop him from hurting you. I tried; I swear, I did.

[Rather nightmarishly, the voice that comes from Lucifer's lips is — ]

I'll always be here.

[ — Eurydice's voice. Plucked from far more beautiful dreams, twisted up and repurposed and full of emptiness, full of hopelessness.]

Even when you don't see me, I'll be right here, Orpheus.

[Lucifer smiles, humored, and then is suddenly (blissfully) gone.

After all, Orpheus is tormenting himself plenty without his help, isn't he?]

Uh.

[There's a faint light of recognition in his eyes, and he looks both surprised and a little pleased that he does know what Orpheus is talking about.]

Yeah, I think I read about it when I was a kid. Something to do with pomegranates, right, and the spring?

Yes! Um, [ He pauses a moment, thinking. Normally he tells this story as a song, but Stefan's asked him not to sing around him, so he has to consider how best to put it in words rather than lyrics. ]

A long time ago - long before the gods left their ancestral home on Olympus - the weather was always the same, all year round, and the goddess Demeter oversaw a season of perpetual harvest. The fields were always filled with crops, and the trees laden with fruit, and the goddess's daughter Persephone roamed the ever-blooming wilds.

One day when Lady Persephone was gathering flowers, she came across a man who was so stricken by her grace and beauty that the only thing he could think to do at first was sing. Now, Persephone had many suitors befor, but there was something different about this man, and as they shared the day they each came to feel that they'd always known each other - that they just fit together, like two halves of a whole. So when the man asked her to follow him home, she agreed.

Except, as it turned out, 'home' was the Underworld, for the man was none other than Hades, the Lord of the Dead. But Persephone loved him, and he loved her, and she willingly followed him into the dark, leaving behind the verdure of her mother's world above.

Demeter, though, wasn't pleased to lose her daughter like this. She grieved the union like she was mourning Persephone's death rather than her marriage, and with her grief came the first winter, the first failed harvest, the first famine.

[ He pauses there, figuring he's gone on for a little while and Stefan deserves a chance to react to the story so far. Orpheus watches him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction and whether he should keep going on as he is or try to wrap it up more quickly.]

[ Orpheus staggers back like he's been struck when he hears that, drawing a sharp breath between his teeth. This isn't the first time he's heard Eurydice's voice since losing her to the underworld a second time, thanks to Deerington being itself, but hearing her sound so defeated cuts him deep, even knowing it's just a trick. ]

Stop it- [ He snaps, shaking his head and taking another step back - but Sam is already gone by the time he looks up again, leaving him all alone in the empty city, the distant sounds of work echoing off the endless expanse of stone and steel. ]

Really? [ That comes as a bit of a surprise to Orpheus. It seems obvious to him? How could anyone deserve having their body stolen, much less by someone like that? How could anyone be so cruel as to act like Sam deserved it when it was something woven into his fate since before he was born? ]

I believe you. And I don't blame you for what happened. I don't really know how possession works where you come from, because it sounds sort of different than what I'm used to? But it doesn't sound like it's any easier to control, having an entire other being in your head instead of just receiving visions or impulses.

Yeah...

I guess that's the hard part. Trying to explain how possession works...

[He swallows at the feeling of memories descending on him. Anti-memories, they feel like. Memories where he's nothing; where he's doing nothing; not speaking, not hearing, not feeling. It makes him feel cold all over again. Maybe that's just Lucifer, pushing back against Sam's control again.]

I wasn't even able to see or hear anything for years, back home. Not really. Just, uh... bits and pieces. Echoes, or muffled noises. Sometimes I could feel the reverberations... But when an angel possesses you, you're almost always put somewhere else. Unless they let you take the wheel, you're not aware of much.

[Bucky isn't the most talkative individual at any time, but he's totally silent as Orpheus begins his rendition of Hades and Persephone. At first, he expects the other man to just tell him a brief summation of the story, a snapshot in a few words, but it becomes obvious pretty quickly that he's getting a detailed retelling of the tale.

It's... strange. Not just the story itself, which has echoes of familiarity that suggest he's definitely heard it somewhere before. But for the tale being told. He doesn't think anyone has told him a story like this since he was a boy, and he finds that he's utterly enraptured. A stirring in him of excitement, long buried, for someone who used to love hearing stories, reading fantastical tales, and dreaming of the legends they spoke of.

His expression doesn't alter much, a slight softening that suggests he's enjoying the tale, but his eyes are blazing with focus and interest, fixed hard on Orpheus' face. It takes him a moment when the flow of the story pauses to realise that Orpheus is waiting for a reaction, for him to say something.]

Don't stop.

[He probably should be asking questions, or giving his opinion on the characters themselves. Those two little words are inadequate. But he doesn't want to break the spell of the story, the flow of it, by inserting his voice into the proceedings. He just wants to hear what happens.]

[ Orpheus listens to Sam's explanation quietly, brows furrowed as he tries to make sense of it. For a moment he doesn't say anything else, just going over all the stories he's ever been told in his head trying to find something to compare it to. ]

I don't think we have anything quite like that, where I come from. That sounds... awful, though. [ Being blinded and deafened and stuck inside your own head like that? Not knowing what the Archangel was getting up to while wearing your face? For years? ] Are you... okay? I know that's - a personal question, but.

[ Orpheus actually smiles a bit at the intensity in Stefan's eyes, glad to see he hasn't lost his touch and gladder still that Stefan seems to be interested in it. It's a longer story, and Orpheus isn't one to abbreviate - especially not the important ones - so it's good that he's enjoying himself. ]

When Hades and Persephone noticed the flood of starved and freezing souls entering the Underworld, they knew what had to be done. Persephone had to return to the surface, or risk the whole world dying. But Hades feared that once she had gone back, that Demeter would never allow her daughter to leave her side again, and Persephone knew that this was more than possible.

So instead of leaving right away, Persephone stopped by a pomegranate tree that had sprouted when she arrived, and plucked one of the fruits from his branches. She split it open, and swallowed six of the seeds, binding her to the underworld - a promise that she'd return, for six months out of every year.

And with that, she walked out of the Underworld, and found her mother, who was so delighted to see her that the winds blew hotter and the sun shone brighter than ever before, bringing us the first summer. Slowly, the world recovered.

But a goddess's promises are binding, and after six months in the wind and sun it was time for her to return to her husband. She bid her mother goodbye and ventured back into the comforting darkness below, and Demeter, knowing that she at least had the assurance that she'd see her daughter again this time, was more even-handed in her grief.

So the world settled into this rhythm, with Demeter celebrating her daughter's return each year with all the blessings of the Earth, and retreating into her sorrow and the cold when Persephone returned to Hades. And for a long time, it worked. Even as Demeter handed over many of her duties to her daughter, the fields and trees remembered their original mistress's love - blooming in the spring to welcome her back and giving one final parting gift in the fall to send her off before withering until her return.

But in the end, it didn't last. Hades, normally patient as the grave, slowly grew to fear and resent his wife's time spent away from him, dreading that she'd return to him each year. The doubt made him possessive, and the worse he got, the more it drove Persephone away, seeking freedom from his ever more crushing embrace. The two of them fought bitterly, but while Hades never stopped loving her, and she never stopped loving him...

[ Orpheus frowns, sighs, and shakes his head. ]

At first he just started coming to the surface each year. To escort her back home personally. But then he started coming earlier and earlier, and letting her go later and later. So the winters lasted longer and longer, and the summers turned short and blazing hot as Persephone and the land around her tried to cram as much living into what time they had as possible.

It had been like that for... about as long as I can remember, when I came here. Probably longer than I've been alive? But Hades and Persephone - they were doing better, I think. He let her go when he was supposed to. It was spring again.

[Quiet, he rubs a hand over his face.]

... I'm alive. And in control.

I kind of just work with that, day to day. Makes it a little easier to run a lap than run a mile, I guess.

[That doesn't really answer the question, but it's all Sam's got, right now. He's not even sure he can drum up the energy to speak honestly.]

That makes sense. [ says Orpheus, though he still sounds pretty concerned. It sounds like Sam's still really struggling with something, which is cause to be worried on his behalf by itself, but also - ]

...He's not gone, is he? [ he asks, frowning. ] Is he still - in there with you? Inside your head.

[ It's a guess, but it seems like a reasonable one to Orpheus. The way Sam talks it doesn't seem like he just means he's trying to cope with the aftermath of the Archangel's actions - there's something else he's fighting, too. If the Archangel were somewhere else, though, he'd probably have explicitly warned Orpheus, hence the assumption that Sam's turned the tables on him. ]

[Sam breaths out, nods.]

Yeah. He's still in here.

Still kicking around and angry and making it hard to think. But the death sickness at least is keeping him... a lot easier to maintain. While he's weak like this, we should have enough time to complete something we're working on, to get rid of him.

Oh. That's good? I'm sorry you had to die for it to work out like that, though.

[ Dying here wasn't... quite as bad as it could be, in Orpheus's estimation, but it's still not something he would wish on anyone. ]

What are you going to do? Is there anything I can do to help?

[... You guys always completely throw him off. The idea of people he's hurt asking him if there's anything they can do to help... it kind of leaves him speechless for a minute.]

Orpheus, you've had enough trouble on my account. You don't have to do anything, okay?

[ Orpheus frets for a moment that he's said something wrong here without realizing it, and is about to ask when Sam comes back with his reassurances. ]

I don't have to, but I want to? Keeping the archangel locked away would make this place safer for everybody, and you don't deserve to have to be his sole prison guard all the time either. I don't know what you're planning or if there's anything I can do, but if there is, I want to do it.

[Sam nods, biting his lip. Orpheus is right. It would make the place safer, and so it all makes sense, him wanting to do whatever he could to help out. Sam just honestly... appreciates the thought of it most of all. Years ago, he'd been in desperate need of help. It's good to finally know it's there. For not just giving up on him.

Maybe he's not a lost cause like he thought he was years ago. Months ago.]

I think we've got it figured out.

We'd been working on a spell — I had actually been translating it when, uh... when I started feeling my control slip. But now, it's almost done. And once we can perform it, it should get rid of Lucifer... in theory.

In theory. [ Orpheus parrots. ] Is it just for banishing him? Or is there some kind of price?

[ Medea's magic always seemed to have some toll that needed to be paid to use it. Usually a bloody one. For something big enough to send a creature powerful enough to kill gods away, he imagines there would have to be some cost. ]

... There could be a price, yeah. If the safeguards fail, there could be a rebound of energy. I can't say for sure it's exactly safe for me, but at this point... I would rather make the jump than wait for Lucifer to get strong enough to take over again.

[Besides, Sam thinks he's a very minor sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.

It's all the self-hate. Really makes him fine with jumping into a pit, metaphorical or literal.]

It's at least self-contained. Whatever happens, it's a small enough scale that it won't impact the rest of the town.

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