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The Boardwalk, Sunday Afternoon

For a person who spent a lot of her time nearby at the docks, Octavia didn't tend to visit the boardwalk much. Not when it wasn't just barely dawn and she was walking along it as part of her usual daily patrol before anyone else was even awake, and there was no one else there, anyway.

But this afternoon, she was there, taking in how it looked on a calm and quiet Sunday afternoon. No particular reason, and she was likely to end up at the Rouge later, but for now... There was something about the boardwalk that had called to her.

Maybe it was the snacks.

Because right this moment, she wasn't walking. She'd bought a funnel cake on a whim, and had stopped to stand by the railing overlooking the water to enjoy it. Or at least eat it. So far, she wasn't very impressed with it.

But like with so many things lately, she was glad she was here to get to try it.

[ooc: Ooopen.]

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Octavia was still staring at his eyes.

Then she shook her head, quickly, like she was shaking off a daze. "All I'm asking," she said, after an unsteady breath, "is that you stop --"

No.

"That you consider not assuming I came from somewhere exactly like your world. Because in a place like this, you don't know for sure."

Lucifer snorted.

"Trust me, I would prefer a world where Father doesn't hold all the cards," he said, "But I know better than to assume there is one."

"Still. I'm asking as a friend, Lucifer."

Well, at least Octavia's tone had mellowed out. And her voice had dropped way down in terms of volume, almost nearing a mumble.

"Please."

"I'm not going to lie to you, Octavia," Lucifer said, voice almost as gentle as it was matter-of-fact. "Certainly not as a friend."

"I don't think it's a lie to say you can't know for sure."

She didn't think so, but she knew he did. And now that lying had been brought back into it, trying to change his mind was pointless.

This time, when Octavia turned towards the water, she did actually crumble up the rest of her funnel cake, and let the crumbs drift down over the railing.

Lucifer snorted.

He brought his flask back up and took a sip of his alcohol.

A world without some version of Father? No, he couldn't picture that at all. Unfortunately.

Then he was really under His thumb, wasn't he?

Octavia leaned against the railing with both hands and just... breathed, steady and deep breaths, in and out a couple of times without saying anything.

"What's it feel like, the eye thing?" she asked eventually, without looking over. Her tone mild, but soft too. "Does it feel like anything? Didn't look like it hurt."

Lucifer was... more complicated than he was willing to admit even to himself. Hence the therapy.

"The eye thi--? Oh, that," he said. "No, it doesn't feel like anything. Just a minor part of my devil face."

Octavia's eyebrows crept up a little as she looked over at him.

"'Devil face'?"

"When I fell from heaven and found myself in hell, I... manifested another face," Lucifer said lightly. "A monstrous one. I'm sure you've seen the artist's impressions."

Octavia gave that a little nod of admittance, even as her head tilted slightly, almost quizzical.

"There were a lot of horns."

"Now that is artistic license," Lucifer sighed. "I don't understand how the goats came into any of it, in general."

"So, no horns."

Octavia shrugged a little.

"What's it like?"

"What's it like wearing the face of a monster?" Lucifer said, blinking at her.

"If it's not horns," Octavia clarified gently, "what is it?"

Then she shook her head, just a little.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." She thought that was obvious, but she was feeling just a little bit too raw after the yelling of just a few moments prior not to make that clear. "Also... I don't think a face makes a monster."

"Very-- red," Lucifer said, after a moment's pause. "And rather lacking in my other face's excellent hair."

"It is good hair," Octavia agreed softly, almost a touch wry.

She had no real opinions on hair, excellent or otherwise. That wasn't going to stop her.

"But while it's sweet of you to say the other thing," Lucifer said, withdrawing, "that sentiment tends to work better in theory than when faced with the reality."

"A face is a face, Lucifer," Octavia reiterated, regardless. "Monsters do monstrous things."

"I'm sure," Lucifer said, sliding his flask into his pocket before buttoning up his jacket.

Something tried to roll off Octavia's tongue, but it wasn't really for her to say, and so she didn't.

And so she just watched him for a moment, quiet and contemplating.

"Can I suggest getting Belgian waffles next time?" Lucifer asked, already turning back in the direction of the restaurants he'd been planning to visit. "At least they generally have some amount of flavor."

And now she just watched him turn.

"Sure."

She hadn't touched a nerve that was a bit like an abused live-wire. Honest.

"Have a good day," he threw over his shoulder, and went.

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The Boardwalk, Sunday Afternoon

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