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

"Has there ever been one?? I don't know how long she's been down here, but..."

He brushed off his coat, paused, and patted it instead. That led it to vanish along with his hat. This was gonna get him overheated at this rate, moving around on foot so heavily dressed.

"Wait, what does she consider a 'bad boy' anyway? It's Hell!"

"I haven't the foggiest!! Isn't that fascinating?" Alastor paused to just laugh over it all. Niffty was just above and beyond his favorite little hellion.

There may be a chortle or two at the fact that Lucifer has to march so much to keep up with his stride.

"She came to Hell in the fifties!"

Laugh it up, legs! He can keep up with you!! If being on foot wasn't going to cut it, he had six whole wings to work with. He just had to try for now, is all.

"Okay, so, greasers. That fits the bill, I guess. I wouldn't call them bad boys, I guess... not when they're too busy twirling and singing about possibly touching a tit if they behave!"

Lucifer, no, the 1950's wasn't like Grease. It was only mostly like Grease.

Alastor had his doubts that Grease was terribly accurate, particularly from how former friends who'd lived in that era described it... but what's the need to correct the misconception, right?

"If they'd gotten a bit more massive acts of destruction done I wager that'd put them on Niffty's radar. Or maybe her tastes have gotten as sharp as her teeth in the past decades," Alastor scoffed. Back down the stairs now that these rooms were done - there were so, so many more floors but unfortunately he didn't get to cheat with his powers and he didn't want to drain himself entirely.

Lucifer rolled up his sleeves and hopped down the steps, almost a dance of its own.

"So keen on the tastes of your favorite little hellion...! I wonder if that's a bonding thing, or if you're one of those sorts who can suss out a person's tastes...?"

"I fancy a puzzle!" Alastor guffawed, glancing only briefly at Lucifer's prance down the stairs. "Many people are terribly transparent or agonizingly dull. I enjoy the sparkle of someone that is either utterly incomprehensible or exceedingly rare."

"Oh, this I've got to hear! I want some examples of the dull ones! What, brunettes? Exclusively bowling? Hold hands for about three hundred chapters before wondering if it'd be too much to ask them out?"

Even that wouldn't be so dull. Alastor lets out a bored hmm.

"Worse. Dull drivel, salacious remarks about bodies. Utterly tiresome and indecorous rambling about cleavage or whatever else in a way that makes them sound like an overly obsessed teenager. Not even any appreciation for aesthetics in a sincere way."

Considering Alastor dressed so conservatively, that probably wasn't all that much of a shock.

"Those sorts don't even have relationship drama worth eavesdropping on. Good for absolutely nothing."

"Ah, yes. The... Adams... of the world. You know he's been like that from the very start? Woof." May he rot wherever he was now.

"That is so... uninspired! There is more than the curve between the bosoms! What about the very sound of their voice that sets your heart on fire, a voice you could just surround yourself and drift in...?" Look, he appreciated an incredible pair of tits, but have any of these 'Adams' even LOOKED at an amazing being?

The man had loved Lilith, so the attraction to a voice made sense. Not that Alastor could blame him - there was something deeply touching about a singer with beautiful control over their voice and impeccable cleverness with their lyrics.

"Voice is everything for radio, and there have always been darlin's that could soothe the savage beast in any mortal soul! Ah, yes, nothing quite like talent to inspire and pluck the heartstrings."

"Uh-huuuuh... this is sounding like a lead-in to something." He called up his cane, raised the apple like a microphone.

"Surely you can divulge a little mystery- has there been an aural muse that strums your particular chords?"

Alastor tilted his head back away from the apple, just from the proximity being too close for his liking. Still... his head tilted. The tone he's asking that makes it pretty clear he's asking about whether anyone had stirred a feeling like that in him.

Hmm.

"There was quite a talented singer back in the day - always sang for meals in the bar I'd go to. I'd picked up piano to back the vocals, but a voice like that never needed it. Some have a way of singing that shakes your soul."

"I see, I see~" He had a point there- oh, some voices just demanded all else to clear the air. Lily had a voice that filled a room, and that's just one factor of what had him so crazy about her.

But where did you go...?

"'Shakes the soul', huh...? With the proper motivation, I think you can get a positively transcendent pitch straight from the soul. The promise of a good meal is good motivation, among others." He had been thinking on that a while. His ditty on his first visit to the Hotel was just fun. He wanted to impress and show his credentials to a woman he'd wanted to know better for the longest time.

But his second? That was from the heart. That was connecting. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone from the heart rather than his frazzled, disquieted mind.

He didn't interrupt the second song, after all - there were plenty of reasons, but the way Lucifer's voice was so much more sincere was part of it.

He wasn't about to vocalize that thought, though.

"A good dance partner is also worth their weight in gold. Ah, truly there are fewer better ways to connect."

Oh, look at that, he's heading back towards his room. That'll be fun.

Oh, what fun this will be...

But the King sighed, nostalgic. "Dancing... I dearly miss it. I remember a time when it would only be hours where I haven't felt compelled to share a little dance, enjoy some music. Celebrate a day despite what life tried to throw at you, you know...? And sharing a little fun alongside the spark of spite!"

See, Alastor was going to say something along the lines of 'you should dance more then'. But then he opened the door to his room.

Ducks. The water is FILLED with ugly, heinous bright yellow rubber ducks.

With a sickening crack Alastor whips his head around like an owl to glare down at Lucifer behind him.

...

GASP.

"Alastor! Oh my golly, what... what happened!?" They were so fun, so happy, so carefree bobbing in the swamps. Some were already covered in muck, and some may or may not have been eaten already by the scaly locals.

But Lucifer's eyes were wide, hand to chest, shocked with this- this scandal that seemed to have taken place.

"I see. You've taken it upon yourself to so generously decorate my room," Alastor snidely remarked, turning the rest of his body around to match his head. "Then perhaps I best return the favor."

"Could've been anybody," was his airy reply.

But as Alastor's body turned, Lucifer all but danced a few steps backward, six wings unfurled. He brandished his cane like a rapier and wore an impish grin.

"But since you intend to incriminate me, I will defend my honor! You won't get past me!"

The little whirl of the cane in a circle!! Have at thee!

"Hmmm..." Alastor hummed in thought, staring at the dramatically whirling cane wordlessly.

After a moment, he spun his staff to collide with the cane, the radio on the end crackling from the way the metals slid against each other as Alastor stepped in to close the distance.

"You don't by any chance happen to have six fingers on your right hand?"

A clash, and in he came. The grin widened, and recognition flashed across his eyes.

"Do you always begin conversations this way?"

He wasn't there to see the duel between Alastor and Adam. So his swings were light and quick, just testing to see just how this old man (thought the hypocrite) was on his feet without all the tentacles and whatnot.

It's just play. Swordsmanship wasn't something he ever studied, after all, even if he had decent reflexes. The way his mic stand reverberated felt wrong but for the sake of a show? He would clash 'blades', and make showy little jabs to Lucifer's chest, dodging where he could as well.

On this other hand, when you lived for millennia, you took up any and all hobbies to see what fit.

Oh, the days of sparring he had for fun, dueling with guards before facing dear Lily were days he enjoys ending claiming a sweat-covered, weary defeat. It made the blood rush in his veins, made him feel truly alive...!

The jabs were intriguing. Alastor was by no means an expert duelist or swordsman, but he wasn't a slouch he had to go easy on. ...Not too much, anyway.

"Didn't take you for a man who enjoyed an adventure-comedy!" Color him curious as he let himself be on the back foot, but maintained his duelist's strokes, other hand aloft for balance. But pardon him- the wings were shivering a little in glee. It'd been so long since he'd just... played.

It was clear who had actually practiced swordsmanship, but Alastor couldn't hold back proud little chuckles at effectively dodging swings. Lucifer was precise where Adam had been sloppy, very professionally and neatly falling into the stage play of it all.

That suited Alastor just fine - after all, a real sword fight rarely looked so good or felt so fun. Not the way a dramatized choreography felt.

"Now what part of me seems like he wouldn't enjoy a hearty laugh and clever wit? That perfectly suits my taste!"

The drama! The intrigue! The occasional flip, a light step followed by a thrust!

"Aha, perhaps I misspoke: A relatively modern comedy! I remember the days of old Charlie Chaplin, figured that was more your speed."

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