[ Recently Bass requested some important information. Who... is the strongest Cybertronian on this ship. He received a hot tip that it was 'Shockwave' but also 'not the Senator one'. There were a few thoughts that went through his processor. One... it was really dumb that there were two people here with the SAME NAME. It must get confusing! Two, while he does (surprisingly) know what a Senator is, he has no idea what a Senator looks like. Do they wear signs? Bass guesses probably not.
This leads him to one conclusion: He has to fight BOTH of them to make sure he's actually fighting the strong one.
This leads him to a second conclusion: He has no idea where Shockwave lives. He could ask for direction, ask if anyone knows... but that begs the question... If they know how strong Bass is will they even tell the truth?
There is now one solution: He has to canvas the ship himself and check every inhabited room he comes across.
So there's the backstory. And that's why Bass, armored up in his winged Treble armor (being able to fly covers ground quicker!) is pounding aggressively at your door.
[Why would someone be banging on his door. He'd barely spoken to anyone and he had been planning on keeping it that way.
He opened the door, giving the visitor an appraising look up and down. In his hands were a very sharp pair of golden scissors. It looked as if he had been in the middle of something.]
well fuck no wonder your wings look like shit you don't fucking take care of them sera's wings don't look like shit so i dunno what your fucking excuse is
bet you don't even fucking preen them do you? what are you like depressed or something stupid like that nah that's the dumbest shit ever angels don't get depressed everyone fucking knows that
anyway im in your bathroom rn looking for this wing conditioner you probably have
Do I need to point out the obvious that Sera is the high seraphim of HEAVEN? Of course her wings are well kept.
[Sure he didn't take care of his wings every single day and sure he didn't go out much but that didn't mean they looked bad, and it wasn't like he was flaunting them around in the fires of hell anyway. Flaunting his angelic nature wasn't always the best way to endear his citizens to his reign.
Lucifer was also ninety-nine percent certain Adam was not in his quarters, that would be too much effort for heaven's favorite child.]
Uh? fucking hello? I'm fucking Adam? God's most Favourite and most Perfect creation? Favourect haha new fucking word anyway I'm not some "normal person" fuck you
also have some fucking standards bro your wings would look good if they had a bit of shine to it (no homo fuck you) and like you fucking preened them
god no wonder hell looks like shit if its king gives this little shit about anything
[Lucifer was very tempted to argue that first point (after all, there was creation before Earth) but ultimately he didn't feel like having that particular argument.]
Fine. If you're going to be a little bitch about it.
[On the nearest surface near Adam there is a swirl of red and gold magic, when it clears there is a bottle sitting there. The label is marketed for pets and the name "Razzle" had been written on it with black marker in Lucifer's handwriting. The bottle is about a third full and the contents are partially congealed, as if it has been sitting unused for several years.]
bro this explains so much about you and also you're the actual little bitch you fucking muppet this is what I get for trying to be nice that's the fucking devil for you I guess
[You know, in truth, Adam does feel just a touch (re: a lot) miffed that his efforts aren't being appreciated right now. An ordinary person might call this feeling 'hurt' if Adam was emotionally mature enough to recognize it as it is.
The idea that he wasn't even a little bit clear on what his actual intentions are doesn't even occur to him at all.]
bro I was offering you an olive branch but you're like slapping it out of my fucking hands along with the fucking doves that are supposed to come along with them fucking dove killer
[So that's what this was all about. Lucifer took a deep breath, head tilted back as he ran hand through his hair. Much as he'd been trying not to think about it, Adam had a point. There wasn't anyone from either of their realms here. He wasn't even sure there were any humans from Earth besides the bartender.
He didn't love the idea of spending any more time than necessary in Adam's company, but it did sound exhausting to keep fighting him every other day.
There's a long delay before Adam gets an answer, one which passes over the letter salad at the beginning of the message.]
Sure.
I still don't have any wing conditioner. You're on your own there.
[Adam was prepared to be as annoying as possible to Lucifer when he inevitably rejected Adam's perfectly reas-
Oh.
Well. Now Adam isn't sure what to think, and it makes him feel some kind of way that Lucifer agreed so easily. If he took the time to examine his own complicat- Nope, still definitely hates him with the passion of a thousand fiery suns, so those feelings are properly in place so he doesn't need to examine himself any further. Adam doesn't like it when things get complicated, it's just so much easier when things are cool and easy. Like heaven! And most of the heavenborn chicks he sleeps with.]
Whatever, I don't give a shit. asshole
[Well. Communication concluded. Thank fucking God.]
[Bass had a point there. Time was something they seemed to have in excess here, as he was quickly discovering himself. Though being immortal and older than all of humanity, that wasn't really something he thought about as finite. It was just annoying to spend so much of it stuck on the ship.]
Well then I wish you the best of luck but please knock on the doors quieter.
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