#samplerp

For some reason she felt as she had forgotten to breath, her lungs had already become at loss for loosing their purpose and reason of function. Her pale skin was turning another color, and even if in the darkness it wasn't visible, she could feel it herself. Her body was beginning to decline and it give her sense that she was fading away, just as the memory was slowly doing it. (Maybe this was it.. No, how could it be. How could it..) It replayed in her mind like a broken recording. Earlier that day she had heard the news that had changed her and made her feel as if there was no reason for her to continue on her efforts for anything in her daily life. Everything had crashed down to only leave her in ruins.

Quiet washed over him, accented only by the soft sounds

of animals. Where Lucifer was perched, these sounds were

mainly birdsong. High in a tree, he looked out over the

forest, watching the sun.

A shimmering bird landed on a nearby branch, watching

him with a curious beak.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about triangles,

would you?” Lucifer asked, frowning down at the paper in

his hands. The bird trilled, catching his attention. It took

flight, vanishing into the green undergrowth below.

Lucifer sighed. “Thank you—so very much—for your help,”

he muttered. The angel stood and balanced on his branch.

Folding his wings low against his sides, he grabbed the

next highest limb, hauling himself up until he stood at the

very top of the tree, a blond head and white feathers

poking out of the foliage. The strange creature walked out

to the end, the thin branch bobbing under his weight. One

deep breath, eyes shining with a light to challenge the sun.

Wings spread, Lucifer leaned forward, eyes closing, sealing

The storefront was nestled flush against its neighbors. Yet

in a way, it was set apart from the others. Something about

it made people pause, looking to the windows with

curiosity.

This was mainly because it hadn't opened yet.

A tall man stood before the door, his back to the bustling

street. He was painting a proud sigil on the glass,

depicting an elaborate, eight-pointed compass rose. A

close observer might notice that his hand was a little too

steady, his posture a tiny bit too uncomfortable. He never

paused to stretch, merely kept painting until he finished.

Once the paint was dry, the man quietly slipped inside,

flipping the hanging sign so that it advertized a word that

was both inviting and sinister: "Open."

Lucifer Morningstar was paying a visit to the human world.

He calmly walked over to the counter, preparing coffee for