[ He's not truly dragging the other man down the hallway, considering how he's actually just stumbling slightly to keep up with him, obedient, even in the face of what must be total and utter confusion. Lucifer's honestly not pre-occupied with Elio's experiences, however; he catches the question regardless and answers because he isn't, you know, rude: ]
Of course. We're going to find - ah. Yes!
[ He pulls them both to a stop by some random door further down the hallway, blocking the path of a young girl - brunette, glasses, the dull attire of someone who's studious and not much else - who looks up at him, eyes wide. He releases Elio, leans right down and in, the girl cowering slightly in response, trying to back up against the wall. ]
You! [ He smiles. It's not a very friendly smile. ] What do you want, my darling? Aside from a complete make-over, what's your greatest, most heartfelt desire?
[ The girl blinks. Stares at him, her gaze melting from shocked to dreamy, complacent, as she replies, leaning in herself until Lucifer can feel her breath against his chin: I want - to steal the 1693 Gould Stradivarius from the Metropolitan! Her eyes are almost blazing when she finishes her sentence, her smile wide and excited, like she's planning on going for it right this very second.
At least until she steps back, stumbling slightly, ducking her head and rushing off with a quick, Um that probably isn't meant to go on any records, either.
Lucifer stares after her. Then, he stares back at Elio, eyebrows raised, like he's waiting for an explanation. Which he is. Right this moment, please. ]
[ No answer forthcoming, apparently, so Elio just follows until they run into Amy Johnson-Williams who's for some reason still roaming the hallways when she should be in class or in the studio or, at least, not here. The consultant drags them to a halt in front of her, pulling the same stunt on her that he'd done on Elio earlier, leaning all up in her face and making her cower - that is until he asks that question, what does she desire, and something changes. Elio can't pinpoint it exactly, it's not a magical crackling in the air or sparkles or anything, but he gets the distinctive feeling that something's extraordinary is happening right in front of his eyes. He can see it on her, the way her eyes glaze over and she blurts out that she wants to steal the 1693 Gould Stradivarius from the Metropolitan, because that's the kind of dark want the heart would harbor, right? That's the kind of thing you'd want to do and never tell a soul about, but now she's telling this stranger and slinking away afterwards like it's completely normal. Elio stares at her, then he stares at the consultant who's turned towards him, eyebrows raised. In question. What question? What he desires? Are they still on that?
Elio licks his lips and glances after Amy who's disappeared, wisely, around a corner. He shifts from one foot to the other, only then - to his dismay - realizing he's gone slightly hard in his pants. He's a possible murder suspect and he's hard for no reason. It's elegant. ]
That was impressive. [ All he says. For a little while at least. Another moment and he adds: ] What kind of consultant are you?
[ The girl goes on her merry way and the hallway falls silent in the wake of her footfalls, except maybe for Elio's awkward shifting around. Lucifer automatically looks down because that's the normal thing to do, surely, and notes that the other man's gone... slightly stiff. Oh! Good thing he's attractive. He'd get a bit hard himself, really, if he weren't still busy being utterly confused. He's not drunk enough or high enough for any of this.
He looks around at Elio's question, suddenly hyper-aware of the Detective's distinctive lack of presence in his life - where'd she run off to and how's he going to track her down and solve this little mystery simultaneously? He mulls it over, giving the other man a passing glance and replying, absent-mindedly: ]
Well, I'm also the Devil. I draw out people's desires, you see, except for some reason... [ Blink. He stares at Elio again, unblinkingly: ] Yours. Can't seem to get a handle on those.
[ He stands back a step or two. No Detective. No answers. He glances upwards, completely by habit, but naturally, that's unfruitful. Thinking. Thiiiiinking. Wait, wait, wait! Yes! He looks back at Elio, a smile of real, honest glee spreading on his face. ]
But you're a suspect, aren't you? Not a very convincing one, granted, but we must play the hands we get.
[ It's better than TV, really. The man goes through several stages of expression, from glancing down at Elio's awkward boner without commenting on it, Elio is counting his blessings currently, to looking around, looking up and saying, he's the devil, he draws out people's desires... Elio stares at him for a long, long time without saying anything, just frowning slightly and trying to puzzle it together in his head. Is he making fun of him? Why would he, why would he lie? Is he crazy, exhibit A and B and C suggest yes. Still, Elio can't shake what happened to the girl, what isn't happening to him and the crazy thing would be to believe him, but where would the devil go if not LA? Where else would the devil be?
If the devil existed. What would he look like? Slight stubble, tall, broad, tanned?
Elio meets the other man's eyes as his face lights up in some kind of childish glee and he's back to smiling widely, so Elio thinks dangerous again and gets a little harder. You're a suspect, the consultant realizes, and they both draw the same conclusion, he can do with Elio what he wants, can't he?
Nevertheless, Elio doesn't step back. He stands his ground. ]
I'm a suspect who doesn't believe in the Devil, will that be a problem?
[ There's no sarcasm to his tone, he's completely serious. ]
[ Elio looks right back at him and tells him he doesn't believe in the Devil and for a second, Lucifer thinks he might be an atheist (could be worse, really) when it occurs to him that an atheist wouldn't put it so specifically - it's an odd thing to single out, if by principle you're trying to distance yourself from the Christian faith. Most people go, "I don't believe in God" or something equally unoriginal. Not to mention, it always makes them sound really stupid, he means, how do you so readily denounce something you can't possibly prove the in-existence of - but that's neither here nor there.
Tilting his head slightly sideways, he looks at Elio briefly. Then, he picks out his phone and types in a text for the Detective - or he would, rather, if she hadn't already texted him with an order to head back to the precinct. What, on his own, two feet? She's a monster.
Back to the man at hand, however... ]
Not at all.
[ He pockets his phone and fixes Elio with another searching stare, though it's not as intensely adamant anymore. Curious, rather. Very. ]
Jewish, right? Might've figured that out from your last name.
[ Still doesn't explain his mojo immunity - unless he's suddenly Jesus which, well, doubt it. Dad's eccentric but that would just be a flat-out bizarre move. With a mumbled come on, then he slips past him towards the door by the far end of the hallway. He's taking him with him, obviously. Wouldn't do to lose this one, not before he figures out what's up and what's down. With his Mum here, with Dad in a godly snit, you just don't leave these things up to circumstance. ]
[ Not at all, answers the man who's the Devil and Elio feels an urge to reach up and dig out his Star of David from around his neck, but refrains mostly by second nature. Jews of discretion, still. Always. However, it's as if the other man has read his mind and looks at him curiously, concluding his faith from his last name and it is pretty standard, isn't it? It's not necessarily some magic trick or cosmic power. It simply still feels like it could be, that's all. ]
It kind of gave it away, didn't it?
[ And because he hasn't thought of Oliver for all of two minutes, Elio turns and follows the consultant, he still hasn't caught his name, he forgot, but it could be a lot of things, if he's the Devil. From Samael to Beelzebub. Satan. Because he hasn't thought of heaven back at his parents' summer house and Oliver's mouth on his cock for all the time the other man has spoken, Elio doesn't object, but breaks into a half-trot to keep up. The tall Devil has tall-man legs, after all.
He has no idea what will happen. With Marcella or with him, will she go where the Devil apparently isn't anymore? Will Elio go where he is? There's a moment when the dimensions seem to melt together and Elio feels slightly dizzy from it.
[ Elio follows him quickly, already proving himself quite adept at simply going with the flow. That's a great quality for a man who's immune to the Devil's mojo, really - it'll make it a lot easier, figuring out why. Lucifer looks at him sideways as they step outside, the campus around them buzzing with nervous excitement, people gathering in clusters, no doubt whispering about the murder, about whodunnit, gearing each other up. He likes that. Maybe some of them will burn off the nerves later with a drink or two, drugs, sex.
As they should. ]
I suppose you'd know me by the wrong name.
[ He keeps his pacing slow enough to match the other man's shorter legs - now that he's in a conversational mood, he's got no significant problems slowing himself down for the occasion. ]
Since I'm planning on buying you coffee - [ He smiles, softer around the edges now. Next to them, someone's whispering Elio's last name and pointing towards them. Oh yeah. That's what happens when you're a murder suspect, supposedly, the gossip machine's cranked up to eleven. ] - you should have the real one. I'm Lucifer Morningstar.
[ He doesn't hold out a hand in greeting, seeing as they're walking and he's already man-handled the poor fellow as it is. Aside from the names, surely they're past all further needs for introduction. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Of course. We're going to find - ah. Yes!
[ He pulls them both to a stop by some random door further down the hallway, blocking the path of a young girl - brunette, glasses, the dull attire of someone who's studious and not much else - who looks up at him, eyes wide. He releases Elio, leans right down and in, the girl cowering slightly in response, trying to back up against the wall. ]
You! [ He smiles. It's not a very friendly smile. ] What do you want, my darling? Aside from a complete make-over, what's your greatest, most heartfelt desire?
[ The girl blinks. Stares at him, her gaze melting from shocked to dreamy, complacent, as she replies, leaning in herself until Lucifer can feel her breath against his chin: I want - to steal the 1693 Gould Stradivarius from the Metropolitan! Her eyes are almost blazing when she finishes her sentence, her smile wide and excited, like she's planning on going for it right this very second.
At least until she steps back, stumbling slightly, ducking her head and rushing off with a quick, Um that probably isn't meant to go on any records, either.
Lucifer stares after her. Then, he stares back at Elio, eyebrows raised, like he's waiting for an explanation. Which he is. Right this moment, please. ]
no subject
Elio licks his lips and glances after Amy who's disappeared, wisely, around a corner. He shifts from one foot to the other, only then - to his dismay - realizing he's gone slightly hard in his pants. He's a possible murder suspect and he's hard for no reason. It's elegant. ]
That was impressive. [ All he says. For a little while at least. Another moment and he adds: ] What kind of consultant are you?
no subject
He looks around at Elio's question, suddenly hyper-aware of the Detective's distinctive lack of presence in his life - where'd she run off to and how's he going to track her down and solve this little mystery simultaneously? He mulls it over, giving the other man a passing glance and replying, absent-mindedly: ]
Well, I'm also the Devil. I draw out people's desires, you see, except for some reason... [ Blink. He stares at Elio again, unblinkingly: ] Yours. Can't seem to get a handle on those.
[ He stands back a step or two. No Detective. No answers. He glances upwards, completely by habit, but naturally, that's unfruitful. Thinking. Thiiiiinking. Wait, wait, wait! Yes! He looks back at Elio, a smile of real, honest glee spreading on his face. ]
But you're a suspect, aren't you? Not a very convincing one, granted, but we must play the hands we get.
no subject
If the devil existed. What would he look like? Slight stubble, tall, broad, tanned?
Elio meets the other man's eyes as his face lights up in some kind of childish glee and he's back to smiling widely, so Elio thinks dangerous again and gets a little harder. You're a suspect, the consultant realizes, and they both draw the same conclusion, he can do with Elio what he wants, can't he?
Nevertheless, Elio doesn't step back. He stands his ground. ]
I'm a suspect who doesn't believe in the Devil, will that be a problem?
[ There's no sarcasm to his tone, he's completely serious. ]
no subject
Tilting his head slightly sideways, he looks at Elio briefly. Then, he picks out his phone and types in a text for the Detective - or he would, rather, if she hadn't already texted him with an order to head back to the precinct. What, on his own, two feet? She's a monster.
Back to the man at hand, however... ]
Not at all.
[ He pockets his phone and fixes Elio with another searching stare, though it's not as intensely adamant anymore. Curious, rather. Very. ]
Jewish, right? Might've figured that out from your last name.
[ Still doesn't explain his mojo immunity - unless he's suddenly Jesus which, well, doubt it. Dad's eccentric but that would just be a flat-out bizarre move. With a mumbled come on, then he slips past him towards the door by the far end of the hallway. He's taking him with him, obviously. Wouldn't do to lose this one, not before he figures out what's up and what's down. With his Mum here, with Dad in a godly snit, you just don't leave these things up to circumstance. ]
no subject
It kind of gave it away, didn't it?
[ And because he hasn't thought of Oliver for all of two minutes, Elio turns and follows the consultant, he still hasn't caught his name, he forgot, but it could be a lot of things, if he's the Devil. From Samael to Beelzebub. Satan. Because he hasn't thought of heaven back at his parents' summer house and Oliver's mouth on his cock for all the time the other man has spoken, Elio doesn't object, but breaks into a half-trot to keep up. The tall Devil has tall-man legs, after all.
He has no idea what will happen. With Marcella or with him, will she go where the Devil apparently isn't anymore? Will Elio go where he is? There's a moment when the dimensions seem to melt together and Elio feels slightly dizzy from it.
But he doesn't fall behind. ]
no subject
As they should. ]
I suppose you'd know me by the wrong name.
[ He keeps his pacing slow enough to match the other man's shorter legs - now that he's in a conversational mood, he's got no significant problems slowing himself down for the occasion. ]
Since I'm planning on buying you coffee - [ He smiles, softer around the edges now. Next to them, someone's whispering Elio's last name and pointing towards them. Oh yeah. That's what happens when you're a murder suspect, supposedly, the gossip machine's cranked up to eleven. ] - you should have the real one. I'm Lucifer Morningstar.
[ He doesn't hold out a hand in greeting, seeing as they're walking and he's already man-handled the poor fellow as it is. Aside from the names, surely they're past all further needs for introduction. ]