[One of Lucifer's greatest flaws is definitely how much he does love to talk. But come on, who could blame him, especially in this instance? How often do you get a Winchester as a captive audience? So much stabbing and shooting, blah blah blah, what a bore.

Besides. Dean's not the only one mining for information.

He makes a quiet, satisfied hum at the twitch (good, a successful deflection from his own slip), and resumes slouching back. He throws an arm over the back of the chair, taps fingers idly, and the occasional, out of place scratch of a nail against the surface.]

Why burn it all to the ground? [Yet.] There's a beauty of its own to this place. Possibility and potential, unrealized, under the surface. Something waiting to happen. [Another nail scratch.

There's still been an underlying concern in his head that the grand scope of this world isn't his Father's creation and that--he's come to terms with multiple worlds maybe a bit better than Big Bro but--but the idea of something other out there is far too jarring for even Lucifer to comprehend.

And yet. That makes the fabric of this planet so much more interesting. Why there continues to be a flock of bumbling humans though... eugh.

(He very notably did not mention his faction. Huh. Weird. Try again.)]