i. how you have fallen from heaven, morning star

The texts always talk about how he fell.

No, never mind them, he didn't fall. Dear old Dad punted him right in the arse until he fell out of heaven, condemned to rule hell -- not to mention, keep tabs on his own mother, because no one does family drama like those in charge of all creation. So, there has never been any falling to contend with. The texts also have never talked about drowning, though there were a few parties in Los Angeles with a few too many drugs and glitzy pools that did get close.

Hauling himself out of a fountain, soaking wet, he begins to wonder what new punishment he's meant to be enduring. "For helping Cain, is it?" he shouts, skywards, when he finally clears the last crest of the fountain, stumbling to his feet. He feels a heavy weight on his back and assumes it to be his wings until he looks and finds not soaked feathers, but a soaked satchel.

It's not even designer, just some awful knockoff with a strange new symbol. Trudging forward to the first building he sees, he dumps the bag and stares down at himself, clad in awful yellow fabric. "Oh, now this is punishment, indeed," he mutters, beginning to strip it off slowly, enjoying the wet slop as it hits the ground. He's been nude in so many public places that it doesn't even occur to him that he shouldn't be doing this with so many witnesses around, milling here and there.

Purgatory, perhaps?

Certainly not Hell. This is far from the loop he'd go through. "Amenadiel, if you're the one behind this," he calls upstairs, trying not to let his worry that Dad's gone and dumped him somewhere to keep him out of the way. "Maze?" he tries, with far more hope. "Dr. Linda?" seems a far-fetched attempt, but as he starts to pull down his trousers, only his underpants standing between him and impropriety, he's running out of options.

ii. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds

He's having performance issues.

This has happened before, but in his defense, he'd been woozy from being drugged, there were multiples involved, and he still managed to turn in a six out of ten performance. Admittedly, for him, that is a performance issue, but this is far more concerning. He's been standing in a clearing and trying to summon his wings for an hour, now, with no success.

It may appear funny, him straining and his face contorting, but the panic is soon setting in. For a man that kept lopping them off with a demon blade, it's ironic to find himself wanting them back so badly, now. No wings, no devil face, and he needs a human volunteer. He can live without the first two, but he's dreading the implication of being without.

Suddenly, he's beginning to wonder if Dad snapped and finally did something to strip Lucifer of all his powers, rendering him utterly mortal not just around the Detective, but all humanity. Is he mortal? It's impossible to imagine, the devil a normal Joe Schmoe, which is why Lucifer needs someone wholly uncomplicated to work his tricks on.

He's so out of sorts that he can't even suss them out any longer, so when he gives up on the wings, he gestures for the next passer-by to come to him. "Yes! You, I'm talking to you," he insists impatiently. "Don't dawdle, come over here, I have something to ask you."

iii. resist the devil

Once he finds himself the helpful little package of proper clothes waiting for him, Lucifer sheds his yellow skin by shredding it and burning it in a bonfire, puts on a proper suit, and begins his explorations of this strange new land. It's a funny place, mainly in that Lucifer can't seem to figure out why he's been sent here. Though, he can guess. You don't exactly go against your Dad's first grounding and expect to walk out with no consequences. In some small way, he's relieved that it's only him and not the Detective or Dr. Linda or any of the other humans around him.

He comes to a stop in his exploration when something crosses the path in front of him, something he knows.

"Oh, hello there," he says, approaching the creature.

It's a skunk. Only, it's rather oddly coloured to be one. Maybe he's going to run into Noah in this place instead of Cain or any of his siblings, but seeing an animal he knows cheers him up. Maybe this is just Dad having a second child, so to speak, filling it with new creations. Though, if that's the case, tweaking only a bit of fur.

He's not saying that the second is always worst, but, well, he was God's favourite after all. Amenadiel replacing him in that regard just goes to show that sometimes second-best never beats out the first.

Crouching down, getting right in its little face, Lucifer smirks at it. "Come, now, let's see, you're not so bad," he says, aware of the potential danger to his clothes of reeking, but it's the first animal he's seen in the wild that he actually knows, so there's a momentary lapse in judgment. One, unfortunately, that comes back to bite him, when the skunk turns and does precisely what skunks do. What skunks don't do, though, is render someone dazed and unconscious, which Lucifer finds himself fighting a losing battle with consciousness.

Pointing at the skunk, awed, he gets out, "Did you...?" before he hits the ground, snoring peacefully.

Five minutes later, he rises. It's not just him getting up either, because other parts of him feel like he's just done a wonderful combination of Viagra and cocaine, like that incredible party in Vegas in '06. Eyes bright, he laughs and stares at his new skunk friend, who's still grazing nearby.

"Well done," he praises, rising to his feet with a newly determined look in his eye. Maybe he could get to like it here after all.