<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/11/06/e5/1106e5e7d1cdf3ff0a08a043e99df57a.jpg)</div><strong>Character Name:</strong><strong>Lucifer Morningstar</strong>(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=304004.msg14845965#msg14845965)<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Thursday 2nd May 2019, 12:00<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Gotham<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong><strong>Dress To Rule</strong>(https://assets.inmonarch.com/images/attachments/000/002/213/org/TX1735.main.jpg?1510821009)<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Koriand'r / The Justice League / Superman / Open<br/><strong>Warnings:</strong><br/><br/><hr/><br/>Lucifer surveyed the battlefield as Koriand'r began to drift off towards it, something beginning to niggle at the back of his mind. Now, Superman had gone evil in the past. There were times when he'd snapped and conquered the planet, there were times when he'd been mind controlled and turned into a mindless drone, there were times when he'd died and his replacements had gone a bit screwy. But this? This...berserker rage, this seemingly endless anger that led him to carve a path of destruction through the city, yet somehow avoiding large groups of civilians and refusing to pursue those who fled before him? It didn't strike him as an unreasoning rage. Something about this whole thing was just...<em>off.</em>It looked like an uncontrolled rampage of destruction to the untrained eye, but to somebody as old and experienced as he was - and somebody who had seen truly chaotic rampages in his time fighting in The Angelic War - it was obvious that this path was more...calculated than that. It was then that he realised what that niggling sensation was. Taking a moment, he shifted his focus, extending his Divine Senses down across the battlefield to touch at the edge of Supermans being.<br/><br/>As his senses drew closer, the niggling sensation became a throbbing, then a burning in the back of his mind, a wriggling mass of dark energy that reviled against his touch. The first thing he noticed was the pouring radiation from Supermans chest, the pulsing, angry energy that seeped into everything around it in a crimson flood. He wasn't certain what it was, but it was clear that it was not supposed to be there. If he was a betting man, he'd wager that that had something to do with Supermans current state of mind. But that wasn't all. No...no, there was another kind of energy there, writhing around that pulsing warmth on his chest, wriggling its way into the Man of Steels mind. It was a seething mass of pure entropy, the essence of raw chaos and anarchy, the kind of power that rebels against any attempt to control or direct it past vague suggestions. Not many individuals could handle this kind of power, let alone direct it in such precise manner...it frankly stank of the Lords of Chaos. He'd bumped into them occasionally throughout his retirement, largely standing by the sidelines and watching with amusement as they worked towards their frankly absurd goals, but he'd never really engaged them directly.<br/><br/>If they were directing Superman on this rampage, however...perhaps it was time to converse with one. They had to have a reason, after all, and besides...if there was anybody in this universe who might know who or what was responsible for Lucifers little power problem...it was a Lord of Chaos. If they weren't responsible, they'd probably have a decent idea of who was. Besides...mind control? He was repulsed at the thought. The one thing he held sacred (HA) was the sanctity of Free Will, of self determination. It was one of the reasons he'd rebelled, and that somebody could so casually remove that agency from somebody? It disgusted him. If he found them, he'd rip that ability right out of their twisted little head if he could. That in and of itself was worth a little visit. He opened his mouth to speak, to inform Koriand'r of his departure...when he felt the Universe flex. Reality warped around him, bunched up once more between two points, and he felt the gutpunch of a hole being torn in space. Good Father, these Mortals were all too blase about ripping holes in the fabric of reality, weren't they? One of these days, that was going to blow up in their faces...again. The First knew that Barry Allen should have learned that lesson by now, at the very least. A flash of light accompanied their appearance behind him, but he didn't turn around to face them. He knew who they were, roughly. The man was familiar-ish to him; he'd investigated him when doing his homework on the heroes of this world.<br/><br/>Part human, part machine, he had impressive technological abilities at his disposal, and a not inconsiderable amount of strength and power for a Mortal...though his name did escape him at that precise moment in time, as distracted as he was. Robo-something. Robocop? No, that wasn't right. Ah well. Not like it mattered. The other one - the female - had a touch of the demonic about her, which piqued his interest for a moment. It was rare to find a human-demon hybrid, and rarer still to find a seemingly not entirely insane and homicidal one, but there was something...off about the signature. His Divine Senses told him that she was part demonic, but it was...off. Like it was a copy that was only slightly wrong, like a designer labelled Guccj. The sort of thing that you only noticed if you looked very, very closely. The only other being who claimed demonhood that provoked his senses like that was...ah. Of course. The daughter of Trigon. His lip twitched in momentary disdain. Trigon, that brutal, savage thug.<br/><br/>The creature who thought that raw power was all that mattered. That tyranny could be achieved through bullying and intimidation alone. Honestly, ruling Hell took more than just shouting and killing the subjects who displeased you, but that seemed to go completely over Trigons head. Just like the rest of them, he was a mewling, screaming child, demanding attention and respect and throwing what little insignificant power they had around to get it. Honestly, just having to acknowledge them as fellow rulers was galling enough as it was. Hopefully, his daughter was nothing like him, or the would have issues. He shook his head, only half listening, extending his powers to take the earpieces. He floated one to his own hand, tucking it in his pocket - it probably had a tracker in it, knowing the Justice League, but that could be dealt with later - and floating the other out to where Koriand'r was still floating. He ignored the introduction. It didn't matter. Not right then, anyway, considering everything that was going on.<strong>"She's here to help,"</strong>he said idly, glancing at Koriand'r,<strong>"I'm simply here to spectate. You'll find that I don't really <em>do</em> teams."</strong><br/><br/>He glanced over his shoulder at them, considering. Perhaps...perhaps he<em>could</em>help a little bit. If there was a Lord of Chaos involved, beyond the obvious leverage to extract information from them...maybe it would be fun to fuck with their plans a little. Especially as payment for his little mind-altering trick. He couldn't stress just how much he hated mind control, and just what he was going to do to the person responsible if they didn't tell him exactly what he wanted to know. He extended his Will, manipulating the soundwaves of his voice such that they reached all three of them regardless of the windspeed so high up, or their distance from him. It was a neat little trick he'd picked up a few billion years ago, when he'd had to talk to somebody underwater. That was a fun afternoon.<strong>"He's being controlled, you realise. A puppet dancing to a script."</strong>His voice was even and controlled, measured even...but there was an unmistakable venom to his voice.<br/><br/>It dripped with a certain degree of scorn and contempt for such a tactic. He had to fight to keep his face smooth, rather than allowing it to twist into the scornful snarl he wanted to adopt. Instead, he looked ahead, back down at the ground.<strong>"I would suggest looking at his chest, Princess,"</strong>he said to Koriand'r, jerking his chin down at the streets below.<strong>"You might find an interesting tangle of knots to unpick."</strong>He paused, and his eyes drifted over the city.<strong>"I, however, find myself more interested in whoever is pulling his strings."</strong>He narrowed his eyes, slowly tracking the bundle of Chaotic Energies seeping from the Kryptonians body, following the threads back out across the half-destroyed district. They had to be close, in order to be near enough to control his actions with any great precision...but where? Where indeed? Now that was the question.