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nc_ooc Prompt: 5. An unexpected guest
“Mister Milton, you have a visitor.” The maid called into the room before allowing him to enter the study.
“Who is here?” He asked, turning, squinting though his sight had nearly failed completely.
“A Mister Morningstar. He says you know him from your writings.” She spoke from the open door as Lucifer pushed passed the woman, gently but defiantly. She barely bustled from the movement.
“I'm not acquainted with....” Milton, blind settled his face square on the visitor. Lucifer let him see the light dazzling beneath the illusions. He was already blind so there was less to worry about.
“Oh.” Milton shooed the maid away. “It can't be.” He spoke only when the door closed.
“I have come to praise your works, nothing more. I am fond of a good story which holds more truth than the reader realizes.” Lucifer spoke with clear affection.
“You cannot be an angel.” The older man fumbled with glasses that would barely help with what was seen in the mortal plane.
“I am one, though not the one you would expect to be here with praise.” Lucifer shifted, wings glowing, and his halo of fire visible to the man despite all blindness. “May I sit?”
The man was startled back to his politeness. “Yes, of course. Tell me which angel are you? If I were to guess I would say Gabriel or Raphael with such beauty.”
Lucifer pulled up an artist's stool instead of the chair, more comfortable accommodations for a winged angel. He considered the man long and in silence before he had words. “No, I am more aligned with your writings. I am Lucifer.”
The gasp that followed was expected as was the gripping of the cross around his neck. “The devil? Why are you here?”
“To speak, and to thank you for the beauty of Paradise Lost. Nothing more.” Lucifer waited, patience was a virtue for the devil.
“I don't want to speak with you.” Milton retorted.
"The liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties" Lucifer smiled. “I have read most of your works. The Areopagitica is another work I admire.”
Quoting the man's own speech seemed to give him pause. He released the crucifix and through will or nerves relaxed. “Very well. What would the devil like to speak of?”
“Lucifer, please.” He redirected. “Just to talk. I would be appreciative of hearing your inspirations. It is rare for a mortal to know so much of the angelic.”
He gave pause and shook his head. “There is no time for that. Dinner will be made soon and...”
Lucifer cut in. “You can give your servant the evening off. I will prepare dinner for you. A proper exchange for your time.”
The old man laughed with sarcasm. “The Devil, Lucifer can cook?”
Unperturbed, Lucifer grinned. “I would be a poor vessel for the sins of gluttony and lust if I were a poor cook.”
This time the man laughed in amusement. “Very well, but it better not be second rate. My dear Mary is an exquisite cook.”
“I will prepare whatever you wish.” Lucifer stood and politely offered the old man his hand and arm as one would to an elderly family member. Milton took his hand, bracing to stand.
“What is your specialty?” Milton started to walk glad for the guidance. “That would make for a good story to take into death. I feasted on the specialty of the devil.”
“And I can say I have cooked for the great poet, John Milton.” Lucifer's words were candy sweet but honest. He cherished the brilliant among humanity, especially intellectuals.
“You flatter me.” Milton accused as they came to the adjoining rooms.
“I am the devil.” He patted the man's hand on his arm. “You should know after writing so much about me that I am an honest flatterer.”
The old poet laughed again, coughing slightly as they walked. Lucifer wasn't here just for information, curiosity, and flattery. He was here to bring a man he respected an evening of joy, and remove the pains of his age for a night. This evening he would see again when they dined. It was the charity and love of the devil for art so forbidden and taboo.
nc_ooc Prompt: 5. An unexpected guest“Mister Milton, you have a visitor.” The maid called into the room before allowing him to enter the study.
“Who is here?” He asked, turning, squinting though his sight had nearly failed completely.
“A Mister Morningstar. He says you know him from your writings.” She spoke from the open door as Lucifer pushed passed the woman, gently but defiantly. She barely bustled from the movement.
“I'm not acquainted with....” Milton, blind settled his face square on the visitor. Lucifer let him see the light dazzling beneath the illusions. He was already blind so there was less to worry about.
“Oh.” Milton shooed the maid away. “It can't be.” He spoke only when the door closed.
“I have come to praise your works, nothing more. I am fond of a good story which holds more truth than the reader realizes.” Lucifer spoke with clear affection.
“You cannot be an angel.” The older man fumbled with glasses that would barely help with what was seen in the mortal plane.
“I am one, though not the one you would expect to be here with praise.” Lucifer shifted, wings glowing, and his halo of fire visible to the man despite all blindness. “May I sit?”
The man was startled back to his politeness. “Yes, of course. Tell me which angel are you? If I were to guess I would say Gabriel or Raphael with such beauty.”
Lucifer pulled up an artist's stool instead of the chair, more comfortable accommodations for a winged angel. He considered the man long and in silence before he had words. “No, I am more aligned with your writings. I am Lucifer.”
The gasp that followed was expected as was the gripping of the cross around his neck. “The devil? Why are you here?”
“To speak, and to thank you for the beauty of Paradise Lost. Nothing more.” Lucifer waited, patience was a virtue for the devil.
“I don't want to speak with you.” Milton retorted.
"The liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties" Lucifer smiled. “I have read most of your works. The Areopagitica is another work I admire.”
Quoting the man's own speech seemed to give him pause. He released the crucifix and through will or nerves relaxed. “Very well. What would the devil like to speak of?”
“Lucifer, please.” He redirected. “Just to talk. I would be appreciative of hearing your inspirations. It is rare for a mortal to know so much of the angelic.”
He gave pause and shook his head. “There is no time for that. Dinner will be made soon and...”
Lucifer cut in. “You can give your servant the evening off. I will prepare dinner for you. A proper exchange for your time.”
The old man laughed with sarcasm. “The Devil, Lucifer can cook?”
Unperturbed, Lucifer grinned. “I would be a poor vessel for the sins of gluttony and lust if I were a poor cook.”
This time the man laughed in amusement. “Very well, but it better not be second rate. My dear Mary is an exquisite cook.”
“I will prepare whatever you wish.” Lucifer stood and politely offered the old man his hand and arm as one would to an elderly family member. Milton took his hand, bracing to stand.
“What is your specialty?” Milton started to walk glad for the guidance. “That would make for a good story to take into death. I feasted on the specialty of the devil.”
“And I can say I have cooked for the great poet, John Milton.” Lucifer's words were candy sweet but honest. He cherished the brilliant among humanity, especially intellectuals.
“You flatter me.” Milton accused as they came to the adjoining rooms.
“I am the devil.” He patted the man's hand on his arm. “You should know after writing so much about me that I am an honest flatterer.”
The old poet laughed again, coughing slightly as they walked. Lucifer wasn't here just for information, curiosity, and flattery. He was here to bring a man he respected an evening of joy, and remove the pains of his age for a night. This evening he would see again when they dined. It was the charity and love of the devil for art so forbidden and taboo.
