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

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."

"You would stick your face on everything, wouldn't you, Bambi?" A stomp of a hoof, and an apple was clutched in the skull's jaw.

"You know what they say, an apple a day keeps the doctor away! You should try something other than raw meat sometime."

He turned and scampered off to the next room. He liked this form! No wonder Alastor was up his own ass about things. Deer were pret-ty great.

Honestly, more than anything, Alastor's mouth is watering... he slides through shadows to the next room that Lucifer picks, appearing in front of the curtains.

"Ah, such nostalgia, if only I had my old hunting rifle. The taste of venison really does bring one to simpler times."

He skidded to a stop, but crossed one leg over the other. He tipped his fine horned head, positively coquettish.

"Business before pleasure, Bambi. If you wanted a bite, you could just ask when we're not on the clock."

A tail flick. The curtain shuddered and changed, depicting a scene of many ducks swimming in an ornate, dreamy pond.

...Hmm. At least the ornate pond is fine. Alastor's only change here is to remove all but a pair of ducks.

"I'm not one for curtains that look like paintings, but I suspect not everyone will have properly refined taste."

NOOOOO wait, okay, pair of ducks. Fine, he guessed. ...Okay, he lied. He added a few little fuzzy babies swimming to follow the parents. Quack quack.

"My thought is perhaps a change over the years. You know, themes for different holidays, even a little shift according to who stays in what room. A most personal experience to enhance comfort!"

"Ambitious. But guests staying here may want to personalize their space. Something simple is best," Alastor rebuffed, manifesting another set of curtains draped over his arm, this time in a simple red and gold pattern to match the hallway decor. "Surely your space can be where ducks reside?"

He prodded him with his cane. "My space is precisely the way I want it! And ducks are the perfect icon for this place, you know! Doesn't anybody know the language of birds?"

He sighed, folded his arms.

"Ducks symbolize fresh starts. Abundance. Community. Family. By golly, why does everyone always poo-poo on the ducks, but never asks why I like ducks, huh!?"

"So do possums, cranes, peccaries, prairie dogs, coyotes, robins, eagles, cottontails, sheep, bees and ants!"

As he listed off the animals, Lucifer had completed his change from a stag and was clutching his head, trying to keep his cool.

But maybe he was having a bad day. Maybe he was tired. Maybe all of those things, or he'd just never had a good day in centuries. ~~Fucking hell, he needed a therapist.~~

"Okay, but I don't- I don't care about everyone else's concepts! They're fine! They're perfectly- perfectly serviceable denizens of the animal kingdom! But they don't- they're not-!"

He was hyperventilating a little. Give him a second. Then he brought up his hands for pause.

"Forget it. You know what? Nevermind. Do whatever you want."

The melancholia again. The way the man gives up after enough pushback. Hardly befitting of a king, but it makes entirely too much sense for an angel as downtrodden as Lucifer.

Lucifer was much more worthy of his title when rising to a challenge. Like just now, honestly.

"Well, well. Surrendered already. I suppose I can commend you for a sporting effort instead of relying on authority," he said snidely, taking a few steps closer to make sure he properly loomed over the King. "I'd thought it so out of character of Charlie to be so defeatist, but now I see where she gets it from."

He paused, and his shoulders hitched. His mind lingered on the nights where the little girl would be scooped up out of his arms and wordlessly removed from his workshop.

Away from him.

Perhaps to keep something of him from rubbing off on her.

"...Do not bring her into this."

"She's the reason we're both here, chum," Alastor prodded Lucifer's chest with his mic, just a light push of goading. "They say once children are grown enough, it's their turn to teach their parents. Pay close attention."

He snorted, and gave the mic a little flick to get it off of him. Alastor wasn't wrong- she'd instilled in him a hope he thought he'd abandoned decades ago- but he wasn't going to get the satisfaction of that acknowledgement.

"I am, at present, paying the utmost. But I won't stand here and let you put her down behind her back! If your problem's with me, by all means, go for it! I'm the most hated being in creation, as they all say! I can handle it! But she is what Hell needs. Has. Needed for a very long time."

He raised a finger and jabbed. "Not one of us here are worth so much as the spit it takes to wet the tongue to speak one ill word about her."

There's a loud radio-speaker POP at his chest getting jabbed, but nothing more - keep a straight face, after all. Smiles are useful tools.

"Oh hoh, MOST hated! An ostentatious title indeed, for someone who has been at worst neglectful of his kingdom - unless there are truly ghastly skeletons in your ancient closet to rival the acts that mere human souls have been befouling this place with."

He blinked, shook his head as if struck. Did he somehow not know? But he propped his hands on his hips, the sudden grin sharp, venomous. Proud.

"Well, y'know, you snag both of the first human's wives right under his nose, and suddenly there's a whole book about you! Craziest thing. Paints an awful picture. Not the title I would have liked earning, but one I've got nevertheless. As you've probably overheard, he was a lit-tle sore about the whole thing."

"Mere homewrecking? Hardly merits such a lofty title as most hated in all of creation. Why, the verses completely oversell you," Alastor turned up his nose, grin stretching wider. That was more like it.

"How you are fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How you are cut down to the ground, You who weakened the nations!"

Alastor cackled at that. "Hardly the lion seeking prey, or the great deceiver of mortal man."

"Weeeeell... there's also the whole 'they didn't like my ideas', 'Lucifer wasn't sure why we even NEED the Creator when we can do SO MUCH MORE if we didn't have to follow so many rules', 'why should we bow to humans when we can instead let them do whatever they want just like we do' among other things, aaaaand... down I went. It's a laundry list."

SHRUG. A laugh. Because if he's not laughing, he was having a breakdown. Millennia ago, but it could have been yesterday.

"Anyway, that is why I would be the ab-so-lute LAST to check in at this Hotel! Never want to go back! Hell, they wouldn't even let me set foot in the place without whatever- what- armies they'd have up there sticking spears up the ass. But hey, plenty of humans can probably relate, huh?" Elbow elbow.

Alastor chuckled at the elbowing, shrugging and letting out a 'hmm!'

"Guilty as charged. I have no interest in Heaven anyhow. It's the suffering that makes life thrilling! And I have little interest in ceasing my conspicuous consumption."

"Y'know, can't say I relate on the whole 'nibbling other people' deal, but hey! It's like recycling, right!?" He had himself a laugh.

But Lucifer looked down the hall, reached up and adjusted his hat.

"You... really did do a lot to help Charlie, huh?"

Oh?

"Of course," Alastor responded, carefully keeping the tone of curiosity in his voice to a minimum. He didn't seem as defensive about it - good, that made him more secure about things, less embarrassing - but Alastor's amused at how incredulous the king seems to be about him.

"I told her I wanted to help, and so I have."

As amicable as Charlie was, she did seem to have a way about figures that would seek to take advantage without trying. ...Unless, of course, things happened and he didn't know about them.

But for his own sanity, he chose not to spiral into those possibilities. He was here, he was here for her and her dream.

The King took in a breath and decided that, perhaps, the greatest pride at all was knowing where appreciation was due.

"...Thank you." Spoken softly, not looking at him.

"...Even if you dropped a piano on my head." A finger was raised.

Alastor let out a cheerful guffaw remembering that. "Classic slapstick, chum, who could resist! I had to play a little diddy on the piano anyways, shift the tune back to jazzy," he laughed aloud, shameless.

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