If you were faced with Him in all His glory

What would you ask if you had just one question?


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IC contact: Sirenspull
- your calls are bad news
paterelohim
Uh, hi! This is Ca- I mean Chuck Shurley, just- Chuck, sorry. [Indistinct fumbling noises] Leave a message after the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks?

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[He walks back in with a plate of roast beef, a ton of vegetables, couscous, and a bowl of cranberry & pecan croissant bread pudding.]

Kitten therapy cures all ills, for a little while.

Yeah. [Softly, still gazing raptly at Yali. After a moment he tears his gaze away, eyes... widening at everything Erik's carrying.]

Wow. You weren't kidding about feeding me.

No, I wasn't. What do you want to drink?

[He puts the plate on a TV tray, so Chuck can keep Yali in his lap.]

[He pulls the tray closer with one hand and keeps petting Yali.]

Well, the coffee's good, for now. It's actually awesome.

[Because maple. Seriously. The Canadians are geniuses, he's pretty sure. Chuck starts a little when Yali takes issue with something he's doing and scratches at his wrist, but his gaze lingers on the kitten long after Yali has moved on.]

I love cats. [Of all sizes.]

I can make you more, when you want it.

[He follows the kittens with his eyes.}

So do I.

Cool, thanks.

[Taking a slow, contemplative sip.]

Damn. [Softly.] I practically needed Midol yesterday.

Welcome.

[Snort]

Jubilee has a drum in her living room. If you ever feels the need for some again

[Snort. Congrats, you broke through the lineface wall!]

Thanks. You're a pal.

Sometimes.

[Small grin.]

I don't handle grief well either.

[Rubbing his face with one hand.]

Most people don't, at first. 'Specially when the guy who broke your legs is trying to play the victim at you.

[Okay, there's some definite... twisting of how it happened in that right there. Or mostly just projection, since Chuck is 100% sure that Lucifer feels like the victim, and is making himself out to be to whoever will goddamn listen, and is probably princess-pissed that Chuck didn't sit down and listen to his feelings and bake him cookies.]

[Or feed him booze and pain pills like he did.]

If I say something you probably really don't want to hear, do you promise not to storm out?

[That is not fear you hear in his voice, Chuck, you must be mishearing.]

[.....Oh, awesome. Super. No, he's really pumped to hear whatever this is.]

That... depends. [Long-suffering sigh.] Would saying it be a dick move?

[He has a fear of abandonment, ok? A JUSTIFIED fear.]

Um.

[His mouth quirks, part amusement, part nervous laughter.]

I don't think so. But. Consider the source?

I...

...say it. Just don't hold my reaction against me. I'm pretty fragile right now.

As you pointed out. Few handle grief well. How many has he actually grieved?

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