"Carnations were always my mother's favorite. I'd learned a good bit of sewing to keep clothes mended, but I'd made little carnations out of bits of cloth too small to be of use," Alastor chuckled, leaning on the back of Lucifer's chair. If it were anyone else, Alastor would hesitate to mention anything to do with his dearly departed mom... but Lucifer didn't seem the sort to exploit that softness of Alastor's. He was too powerful to need to. "Red suits you. Never enough, I say," he added, plucking up the lens that Lucifer had carefully set down.

"Your mechanical tinkerings are intriguing too. A sort of craftsmanship that's thoroughly underrated. But how long have you been plugging away at this, hmm?"