endoftheverse | Lucifer's Dreamwalking

Lucifer's eyebrows shoot up.

"A powerful witch. Now why would these sweet little butterfly lie?" He swings his feet over the edge, but stays perched; better to be higher up, in control of the situation at hand. Bigger the better. There's a bit of amusement in his eyes. "What sorts of spells might you know, oh mighty practicing, powerful witch?"

"It's an exaggeration," Willow replies. "I'm not that powerful. Or-or, at least I don't feel like I am."

She doesn't like the turn this conversation is taking, and the butterfly, seemingly, finally, cluing in silently returns to her shoulder. "Why do you want to know what I can cast?"

He huffs a breath.

"Why wouldn't I be interested in what a witch can cast? It sounds fascinating."

But after a moment, he waves a hand.

"If you're worried about judgement, I've none to give. I'm a being with powers, too, you know; people could stand to learn a thing or two from a witch and their gift."

Not that he likes witches, particularly.

But at least they're interesting.

Humans are typically just... so boring.

Willow studies Lucifer for a long, silent moment, debating how best to answer the question.

"Spellbooks and ingredients seem to be kind of hard to come by around here, so really, not much," she admits. It's an honest, if incomplete answer. There are a few spells she can cast from memory, ones that don't require anything more than being able to focus and speak an incantation, like the one she knew the butterfly was thinking of to try to get them out of the maze.

"What sort of power do you have?" She's still not sure how much she wants to trust him, but there is curiosity behind the question.

"Well," he says tapping his chin. "I can walk through people's dreams... a bit lackluster, I know. I've oodles of different powers to choose from back home, but here... I'm afraid they've clipped my wings a little. Almost too literally for my liking."

He finally hops down, puts them both on the same level.

"I'm an angel, child. A very old, very bored angel."

"An angel? You mean, like, one of God's angels?" Part of her wants to be skeptical, but it's Deerington, and really, there's no reason that running into an angel should be that farfetched under the circumstances.

"Sorry, there's nothing I can do to unclip your wings, if that's what you were thinking when the butterfly said I was powerful." It feels like a good idea to get that out of the right off the bat. "Even if you had a spell, and the ingredients, there's no guarantee it would work here."

There's a pause, before she asks, "so, what's your name, anyway?"

"I've had many names, the last few millennia... but 'Nick' will do just fine, in this form."

He motions to himself, before looking up with a quirked brow.

"It's nice to meet you, Willow, but I'm not here to get my wings un-clipped; I'm here because I'm unfortunately trapped elsewhere, and walking dreams is how I pass the time."

And, you know. Maybe sometime he'll try to manipulate her.

Maybe.

But for now, he's being honest.

"Nice to meet you too, Nick," she's polite, even though she's still a bit nervous of him. It's reassuring though that he's not here expecting help getting his powers back, but just as a way to pass the time. She's not... entirely sure how she feels about the uninvited intrusion into her dream, though.

"Where are you trapped? I assume you don't just mean here in Deerington like the rest of us?" She gestures around vaguely. It's still the bright hedge maze, but in the dream she's able to recognize that it's her mind's way of trying to figure out how to get back home again.

He sighs, shaking his head sadly.

"Unfortunately not just in Deerington, no. I'm trapped in someone else's body; a bit of a prisoner at the moment, much to my dismay." What? It's the honest truth. He's being held captive; that meddling kid and his mangy mutts, not letting him win fair and square. His voice is soft and sad and older than the oldest of ruins.

"... I wouldn't trouble yourself too much; I have to fight my battles on my own, anyway. I'd much rather hear about all of this. What it means."

Willow's eyebrows raise. Trapped in a body, as a prisoner, not his own? Well, isn't that disturbing shades of Glory all over again. Still, despite being spooked by his behaviour when the butterfly revealed her as a witch, as far as she can tell, Nick seems to have little in common with the hell god. Maybe he's just not great with interacting with people.

She looks around, and shrugs. "Oh, this? It's a dream. It doesn't have to make sense, does it? How did you get stuck in someone else's body?"

The butterfly still quietly perched on Willow's shoulder pipes up, ever helpful. "I think it's Deerington."

"I'm seen as a threat. For what I am. Unfortunately, people aren't quite so comfortable around a being that is different from them," he offers the butterfly a little smile. "But the butterfly's not entirely wrong there. Unfortunately, I have only a shred of my power here; fighting back has become a... difficult task."

He waves a hand, dismissing it.

"It's nothing I can't handle; I'm sure I'll find a way out. And, well — the people who trapped me think they have good intentions."

Willow nods, mulling over his story. "Yeah, Deerington seems to have that affect on people's powers, I guess. Who, um. Who trapped you?"

It's disturbingly similar to the story of Ben and Glory. Except Glory was not an angel, but a fearsome hell god imprisoned in a mortal body in an attempt to contain her and her power. Glory who sapped away Tara's sanity, and almost killed all of them at one point or another. Glory, whose plan to tear down the barriers between dimensions was foiled by Buffy sacrificing herself to save the world, and Dawn. They're not exactly happy memories.

It's enough of a reminder that the scene shifts suddenly away from the brightly lit hedge maze with a flash and crack that sounds like thunder to a construction site with a large, albeit somewhat unstable looking tower at night.

The butterfly is still with them, still perched on Willow's shoulder, but the anxiety is clear in her small voice. "Willow, we don't want to be here..."

He sighs.

"Someone named Sam Winchester. He's unfortunately extremely unwell in the head, so... I can't entirely blame him for the hostage situation. Grew up in a violent family with a history of crime, convinced that supernatural beings are all evil and need to be destroyed... Best to just leave him be — and keep your distance. His type have had a history of hunting witches."

He glances to the tower, after his gaze flicks away from the butterfly. His fingers are pressed to his lips in a thoughtful manner, and he doesn't look much concerned; more just curious.

"Now what's this?"

Edited (grammar yeck) 2020-12-18 02:22 (UTC)

As much as Willow is unsure about how much she really wants to trust Nick, his warning about Sam doesn't fall entirely on deaf ears. Her own mother tried to burn her, another witch named Amy, and her friend Buffy at the stake when they were in high school; The whole town under the influence of a demon posing as two murdered children that led them to believe it was the work of witches.

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks. He intentionally trapped you, then? In his own mind?" That seems... ill-advised.

She glances at the tower as he asks the obvious question, clearly uncomfortable. "This? It's a memory. The butterfly's right, I don't want to be here. Let's talk about something else."

He nods, none too pleased.

"There aren't a lot of ways to trap an angel. He's creative, I can give him that." Goodness, though, he's so incredibly interested in the weird scenery laid out before them. No fair. Glancing at her, he raises his eyebrows. "Are you so sure you're not meant to face this place? Seems like your subconscious is throwing you some bones."

"I dunno. I mean, we have demons, and vampires and stuff back home - I've never met an angel before, though, so I don't have much to compare to. It just... sounds like a bad idea to intentionally trap a powerful being in your own mind." She smiles a little. "Kinda like having a roommate you can never get rid of, but you really, really don't get along with."

Willow shivers and wraps her arms around herself, frowning. "I've seen this plenty of times already. I don't need to see it again. My best friend died here."

"It's a terrible idea," Lucifer says, as a matter-of-factly.

Looking back up to the tall tower, he tuts at the explanation.

"Sounds like something you have a hard time scrubbing away. Well, if we're not facing some long-lasting trauma, which direction would be more suitable? Unless... this is the exit you've been looking for."

Willow follows his gaze to the tower, and quickly looks away, frowning. "I-I dunno. Usually it just plays out the way it really happened. A portal opens just under the tower... Buffy jumps into it to save her sister, and the world, and we find her, and I wake up."

"We couldn't save her," the butterfly adds sadly. "We tried, but we didn't see what was happening quick enough to stop the portal from being opened in the first place. There was a lot going on on the ground too."

Lucifer smiles somewhat.

"Sounds like your sister is a very brave and daring individual."

Lucifer doesn't care much about humans, sure, but he can appreciate one that tries to rise above what she is. That's what he likes so much about Sam, after all — a vessel with something... extra. Something Lucifer can't help but appreciate, even as he unintentionally (and intentionally) torments him.

"What was this portal for, exactly?"

"She was my best friend. But close enough to be like a sister," Willow answers. Buffy's death is still hard to talk about, and she carries some guilt over not being fast enough, or strong enough to have prevented it. "But yeah. She was really brave. She saved the world a lot."

It's the butterfly who fields the question about the portal, as she has been any other time Willow herself has been reluctant. "There was this god from another dimension. Crazy strong and crazy... well, crazy. She was trying to get home and the only way for her to do it was to tear down the barrier between worlds. It would have unleashed hell on Earth. Buffy stopped her, but one of her acolytes was going to start the ritual. We tried to stop him, but we were too late. We should've noticed sooner."

The butterfly pauses. Apparently it's hard for her to talk about as well. "The only way to close the portal again was for either Buffy, or her sister to die. So Buffy jumped into it."

Lucifer rolls his eyes at the heavens.

"Oh, yes. Gods. However could I forget such kind and compassionate beings." It's rich, coming from someone who would love to smother the life out of humanity at any given moment, but he really just has a terrible dislike of gods from any and all backgrounds. Ugh. Makes him want to leave a party.

... Hell on earth, though...

... Not bad.

The story does have a familiar twang to it, though. An old song of siblings, of how one or the other has to die for the happy ending. Lucifer wouldn't know it all too well; in his timeline, he won, after all.

"So the world was spared, in the end."

Willow studies Nick quietly for a moment. She wasn't expecting him to be pro-hell god or anything, but he seems to be painting all gods with the same brush, including, presumably, the one that made him. Huh.

"Well... I'm sure they're not all bad?" She offers. "You know, the ones from horrifying hell dimensions aside. Not that I'm in any hurry to meet any more to prove that theory. One was definitely more than enough."

"Yeah. The world was saved again in the end," Willow echoes. "For now, at least."

"Oh?"

He looks at her eyes shining with curiosity in the light.

"The world was saved again?"

Sounds like these gals have a habit.

(A bad habit, as far as Lucifer's thinking.)

"Yeah," Willow replies with a nod. "Someone - or something - trying to destroy the world, or the world as we know it, isn't really totally unheard of where I'm from. I mean, it doesn't happen every day or anything, but... It's been at least... Six? I think. You kinda stop counting after awhile."

He would hate all of her friends so much.

"Six whole times? Over six?" He whistles, impressed. "Makes me wonder if your world is supposed to end. People seem to be very drawn to end it, anyway."

He smiles slightly, rubbing his chin.

"But then again, perhaps they just didn't realize what tenacity your protectors seem to have. Impressive, I have to admit."

People aren't usually that good at preventing the end of the world, anyway.

Lucifer's Dreamwalking

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tmw you write sister instead of friend, MY TOTAL BAD :'D

Ngl, I thought I screwed it up in my tag lmao

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