Mephistopheles Lucifer

“My life is just one distraction after another,” I type quickly and click ‘send’.

There was a pause before the person I’m IMing replies, “wish i had problems like that.  u work?”

“Too much.  Or at least, I worked too much some twenty years or so ago.  I’m not even going to bother trying to count the time I and my brothers spent in Heaven.”

Another pause.  Then, “wow, u must ahve really studied up”

I snort a quiet laugh through my nose.  “Though it isn’t very hard to find basic information like that.”

“Pt.  :) still, nice rp.”

“I do occasionally attempt to summon the energy to try.”

“rofl.  bet u phail more often than not.”

“However did you guess?” I pause, and then add in an emote of my own.  “:)”

“so what exactly was ‘ur’ torture in hell.”

“Well, since you asked…” I tell him, pausing briefly to restart my YouTube playlist.  “My task was something of a Sisyphean labor.  I had to build a temple to the Unjust out of solid ice.  I was forbidden to use tools, my control over heat was all but useless, and I had to build it while essentially an inch away from freezing to death on an ice plain.  The place wound up being rather Spartan.  It was pretty much four walls, a roof, an altar, a cross, and a throne.  There was one door—really just a deliberate gap in one of the walls.  Oh, and there was a footrest.”

The other person seemed surprised.  “…have i mentioned that u have a really nice rp?”

Then something I said must have hit him.  “wait how do u know there’s a footrest?”

“:)” is all I say.  I’m smiling myself.

“wait.  u couldn’t lyke magic the ice out?”

“That would have been cheating, apparently.”

“…could u have warmed urself up?  i always thought u did…”

“At first, yes, but since it didn’t help, I stopped,” I decided not to mention that he wasn’t putting quotes around his references to me.

“…r u lyke aktually *the* Mephistopheles Lucifer?”

“I am the only one of my brothers who didn’t bother coming up with a creative screenname out of sheer laziness.  Besides, nobody actually thinks that I truly am myself until something like this happens and they figure it out for themselves.”

“O.O” followed by “…” followed by “…!”

“So much punctuation, so little time?”

“OMG!!  i am lyke ur biggest fan EVAR!!”

I groan loudly.  Another fanperson/cultist.  On the upside, I win the bet, Satan.

That you most certainly do, he answers, walking in and handing me his coffee.  I gladly take a sip.  Part one of his payment of the bet.  I never would have guessed it:  Mephis, the lazy fat fuck, has no less than 1000 fanpeople.

I briefly lift my tail in a shrug.  Onwards to some other distraction.  I haven’t played Diablo in a while.