divinetree | Mom says it's my turn with the Alastor

"You don't know? No, no, Vagatha is simply a joke of a name for our dear fallen exorcist. Vaggie is actually short for Vagnolia."

"Vagnolia, of COURSE!" He slapped the heel of a palm against his forehead, fallen hook, line and sinker.

"Also, give me a break- I'm still trying to recall names. I know my daughter was dating- a while back, she was seeing that von Eldritch boy for a while- but I'm proud to say I'm well into my catch-up to speed!"

"Honestly, I'm quite surprised it hadn't come up over one of your phone calls with dear Charlie."

Because you definitely remembered, right? Right.

"I don't have anything against the hellborn, but Charlie's ambitions are ill suited to a lazy royal deadweight as a partner. As temperamental as Vagnolia is, she has served well as security."

He was quiet at that, but his eyes gave a scattered glance around the area. She- probably??? PROBABLY MENTIONED IT? But he was- he was busy!! Just so, so busy. With things. There's a lot on his mind! Shut up, you.

"Their relationship was very... faerie tale. First crushes and first relationships tend to be ones of flights of fancy, especially when you're young and inexperienced. Although the von Eldritches have been friends to the Royal Family for ages, I can... agree to that. Seviathan needs to figure out his priorities. The daughter? Woof. She's a real piece of work. I can only hope she mellows a bit and gains a touch of humbleness with time."

Alastor practically throws his head back in laughter, though he still doesn't break stride in his task. Almost done fixing all these dreadful curtains. "Hahahah! Expecting humility from royalty!"

"I can only mostly agree- we both work for a girl who trumps that expectation completely, after all!"

Oh, don't worry- each curtain he changes is only adding something to Alastor's room. How would he like a big Lucifer bust pouring water from the mouth into the swamp, a giant rubber duck floating among the mucky water, and an apple-print bedspread set?

Oh, Lucifer... when he finds it...

"A strong-willed hard worker," Alastor agreed. And a dreamer, and a bit of an airhead - but inspirational, and with power that can be harnessed. "A dreamer that has proper willpower and drive."

You'll love it, right? Of course you will. Scoop him up with a, 'Thank you! THANK YOU, your Highness!' And then a big ol' punch in the face.

"Chip off the old block, that one. I've... it's been amazing, seeing her work, in her element."

He neatly folded his hands behind his back. He closed an eye and smirked the Radio Demon's way. A small flex of creation magic would try and quiiiiietly put a little apple sticker on the back of his jacket.

"Hell will be in superb hands with her."

Oh, yes, and to be able to put a thumb on that scale... Deal or no, he was going to be poised for real power and freedom.

Rather than saying that, Alastor chuckled. "Oh, to be a part of history, indeed! I am honored to have been supporting this endeavor of hers from the very moment it became public. It'll be a delight indeed to see where she takes things next."

"...Then I should have you know that, haha... She prefers the apple aesthetic. And she's the boss, isn't she...?"

The rug they tread over gained a merry circle of the festive, fun fruit.

"Couldn't entirely sell her on the ducks, buuut, she enjoys my little creations. They do instill such joy."

It is... to some degree... but it's still less juvenile than the ducks.

"The fruit of the knowledge of good and evil is your family heirloom, after all," Alastor scoffed. "I have been keeping her aesthetic preferences in mind. She and I simply align on an appreciation for art deco and jazz. Adds class to the place."

"I seem to recall a certain ladyfriend mentioning you could pound drinks and keep up with her during your time among the living. The true jazz lifestyle!"

He nudged with an elbow.

"Now, be honest- what was really going on with you two, huh?"

"Pardon?" Alastor quirked an eyebrow - he thought the description was quite succinct and straightforward. Goodbye, the last of the duck curtains - hello art deco.

"Hmm. I hesitate to call us proper friends, we only ever met to share drink and a dance."

That's right, enjoy your little victory. Keep walking through the hall in this particular direction, that's it...

"Oh? That's all? She seemed over the moon to see you, and you even humored her with a little chit-chat and friendly touches."

He folded his arms. "...She ask you for favors a lot, does she?"

"I've never initiated anything untoward with Mimzy, if that is your implication," Alastor's lip curled in his grin. "It's to be expected. Women always seek out a man they know they're safe from in a time of crisis. It wasn't any different when we were alive and I made sure she made it home after dark."

Alastor pauses at the stairs, exhaling through his nose.

"I suppose the remaining floors have curtains just as hideous as this floor had?"

He idly reached for and turned the gold ring about his finger. Alastor, that just sounds like she used you.

...

The question was a breath of fresh air, keeping him from drawing any connections and pulling himself down again.

"Oh, no. This is the only floor I'd gotten done before you popped up."

A beat.

Then he raced up the stairs to the next floor with a snicker, wings unfurling. He'll beat you to these rooms, you giant bastard!

No you don't. Alastor hisses, melting into shadow to slide through the walls and up directly to the next floor, manifesting at the top of the stairs to cut Lucifer off.

"You will NOT."

Poof! What was a short fallen angel was now a snake slithering right around those spindly legs of Alastor's, moving past to approach the first room.

"I think I will!"

He dropped a piano on you, old man, there is nothing stopping him from STOMPING with full force on that tail.

"Do you have any idea how many cottonmouths I beheaded with shovels??" he sneered.

A hiss as his tail was stomped, but he turned back with a fangy grin.

"Unfortunately for you, I am ssssuitably hydrated!" And poof! With that dad joke out of the way, he changed into a goat and pranced his way away. He even had helpful boingy-boingy-boingy noises to help him along.

Fine. That was amusing. But Alastor isn't about to be beaten that easily.

Swapping out his microphone stand for a shepherd's crook, Alastor took a few bounds before looping and hooking those new horns, giving a good tug to pull Lucifer back.

"Ah ah ah. Haven't got my goat yet."

"Gackk!" Oof, rough on the neck there, buddy! He tried to wrench his head free, but wasn't making a go of it.

Instead, another poof! He somersaulted onto the floor as a rooster now, but got up and scampered to put some distance between him and the other demon.

"Not done crossing roads yet! You can cluck off, bellhop!"

Oh, isn't this nostalgic! Alastor doesn't have a transformation, but his long prancing gait gives him all the advantage he needs to keep up.

"Don't get too cocky now!"

"Too much, huh...? Then perhaps I'll buck up!"

Poof! A fine white stag with golden antlers, a bow tie and a fancy top hat pranced his way into the first room with a dismissive little flick of his little deer tail.

Bland, tiring curtains... BE CHANGED! Gain the finest in appearances, with the motif of the finest apple tree across the surface that would split in the middle once any guest would open the way to Hell's passable red moonlight in Pride.

It's not even about the curtains, now - he would've accepted an apple tree just fine. No, now it was about the contest.

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor shifted the imagery of the tree, rearranging the trunk into the skull of a deer with reaching, branching antlers.

"There we are! Branching away from the relentless fruits."

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