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

"Pfft! Please! I'm also looking out for your well-being, of course...!" But the laugh he gave was a giggle now.

Yep. The King was officially lost in the sauce.

"Little did I know you're downright insatiable!"

"Hah hah hah! And made only worse by just a complete DROUGHT of a good dance partner! Everyone else is so preoccupied!" Alastor guffawed.

Or miserable, like Husk.

...Or looking to take advantage of him, like Mimzy.

Now now - forget about that. Alastor held out his hand for Lucifer again, inviting him to dance once more.

"They're so hard to FIND these days, right!?" He threw up his hands.

But he took a breath. Another. Focus. Sober up a bit.

Then, after a roll of his shoulders, he reached out and accepted that hand.

Let's do this.

Let's.

After a rousing time dancing as hard as their bodies will allow, Alastor finally sits for one of his drink refills, savoring the alcohol and practically sprawled on the counter like a satisfied cat. Were he a cat, he'd be purring, he knew it.

"Hmmhmm... even this sweet applejack is hitting the spot right now..."

He all but collapsed into his seat, face fully flushed. He was taking up his glass before he smirked Alastor's way.

"Almost like I've got good tastes, huh?" A gentle elbow.

"It's fine. My office is, by all accounts, private."

"Almost! The only sweets I find myself enjoying are my mama's beignets," Alastor chuckled, sipping at the drink anyway. "But a little sweetness to enrich the complexity of flavors can be nice. I can enjoy a dessert wine now and then."

He propped a cheek in his hand. Then he added a rather tragic confession:

"Beignets, huh...? I don't think I've ever had those."

!!

Alastor's head lifted right up, ears perked excitedly.

"No, you're kidding me, cher! Why, I was going to wait for Charlie's birthday to whip up a batch, but I'll simply have to rectify this as soon as possible."

He shook his head. "Oh! No no no! Save it for her birthday! I can't have such a thing spoiled on my account if she hasn't had one before either."

But the joy was only increased across his face in his inebriated state. "That's a kind gesture, however. You really have been sweet to her. ...Thank you."

"A young lady that talented deserves to be celebrated!" Alastor laughed jovially, kicking back and nearly toppling off of the barstool - but managing to stay balanced all the same. "An absolutely splendid performance, stunning, every time she bares her soul to everyone. And she won't let anyone trample her down for it! Strong, strong girl."

He tapped the glass against the bartop thrice. "Hear, hear!"

He nudged the glass ahead. One more top-off. A liiiittle one. He needed to stay awake.

"She's inspiring. She's sharp. I always had a bit of a hot streak when it comes to picking up a vibe from someone. ...Not to Queen Bee's levels, of course, buuuut I am the Sin of Pride and I know when one's feeling a bit dented."

A small smirk. He lifted his glass to his lips and peered over the edge.

"Like this guy I spar with! I dunno, pal, I just get this feeling that something's put a little rain on his parade."

Another quirked eyebrow, and pointed, prolonged stare at the ring on Lucifer's hand. Alastor scoffs, reaching over and tapping the back of Lucifer's hand.

"Like father, like daughter! Easier to try and solve someone else's problems and worries before your own."

It couldn't be that easy, naturally. But he drank and idly studied his own hand and the ring.

"Well, not everything can be fixed and tied into a pretty little bow, that's true... life has a fun bundle of ways to try and stick out a leg and hope it catches the ankles, and whoop! Down you go~"

A deep, cleansing breath, and he leaned back a bit.

"Look- I'm the furthest thing from a therapist, Bambi. I'm not even pretending to be one for a gag. But, oh, I don't know... if something's eating you, there's always talking about it while I sit with my applejack, nod, and say 'Man. That sucks.' No advice. No solutions. We polish off the evening, see if we can make it to our respective beds, and tomorrow becomes another day. Possibly a little... lighter."

Alas, he can't talk about the details of what's tangling him up. The contract vexes him and will continue to vex him until he can find a proper opening to free himself.

What to talk about instead... if he's anything like Charlie, he won't get off the scent trail until he tosses a herring.

"Hmm..."

He drums his fingers, contemplating what to actually open up on, a little sour he was so drunk it was hazy to think.

"...Yes, well. I suppose anyone gets nostalgic for things long gone. For people long gone. And, yes, for friendships soured thanks to circumstances changed."

Gotta love a magic geas. ...Said a being who is a part of one himself. Though one was thoroughly shattered by Adam's insistence on bloodletting, the other was firmly in place.

As much as he wished to aid Charlie during her summons to Heaven, he... couldn't go. But it was simply better this way.

The King hummed. He curled his fingers to fold his ring-bearing digit into the palm.

"...And sometimes you wonder if things will shift back to normal in due time. ...When all you have is time."

"If Mimzy had come on better terms, we would have had a night like this," Alastor gestured towards the room around them, still thriving in the atmosphere. "Were I not a hotelier, it would have been annoying but nonetheless not a problem to kill those who vex an old pal. But no, rather, she arrived and made a proper fool of me."

The swig of the alcohol he takes is deeper than previous ones.

"Husker is too melancholy, too preoccupied with Angel, these days. Niffty doesn't hold her drink well and gets far too distracted. Rosie is a delight, but she doesn't favor the high energy of a proper swing night. And the era is long, long gone that I could find a bar where swing is still in swing, and even if I could, all scatter in fear of the Radio Demon. Can't have your cake and eat it too, unfortunately."

So he really was sincere... there was a tinge of disappointment he could recall as he addressed Mimzy outside of the Hotel. Were it him, he would have been pretty angry. He wondered how long she may have been casing the place before she found her buddy there, and decided to pop right in.

Honestly, he was surprised as Alastor elaborated to others in employ. He could simply tug a little chain, as it were, and get their focus again. But what was the sport in that? Where was the spirit in forced merrymaking?

Lucifer tipped his chin, understood the feeling. He looked back as copies were busy dancing the night away.

"Familiar. Oh, how my heart wept when the hayday of polka passed the world by...! World War II, I believe, soundly closed the lid on it being more widespread and mainstream. There's 'Oktoberfests' and all, but it's... it's just not the same."

"Hah. Eastern Europeans weren't terribly common in Louisiana. Far too many French, I wager. I never got exposed to polka," he hummed, looking out to the dance floor occupied by the other 'Lucifers'.

Still...

"I don't particularly like owing favors - so you'll have to drag me in for a polka night, share the appeal."

Fair. Seemed more the way to go up north, where a great deal of Polish and German immigrants swept in during that era.

But the King blinked at him at that last part. He'd... really? REALLY really...?

Then the smile was back, mischievous. "...I will warn you, despite appearances, polka can have its own intensity."

He opened his arms, gesturing to their current venue. "And hey- I wouldn't mind more nights like this!"

"Oh, I'd wager it does - modern folk underestimate swing dances all the time, I can't imagine it's much different for the styles older than swing," Alastor chuckled! "Music is meant for many things, and revelry is something people have used it for since time immemorial. One doesn't need to be as old as Mankind to know that much."

His gaze intensified, and he snapped his fingers into a point.

"Right, you get it! Besides, a lot of these venues that house polka bands also come with enough beer to drown an entire city block! You can't drink, dress up and NOT have a good time, clearly!"

Maybe it was from being sauced up enough already, maybe it was from having a genuinely nice night, but that really didn't sound too bad. Sounded like it might be fun, even.

"I'll have to bring out my most wretched, vile, truly evil instrument. One that I've been keeping in store just for the right rainy day to drive others to the brink of utter despair and madness."

Such emphasis...!

"Well, now my ears are perked. Can I get a hint...? Or is the despair and madness purer with the surprise?"

"Oh, you'll learn in due time. We'll have the polka night out in the lobby for maximum effect," Alastor giggled, kicking his feet in delight. Oh, that will be fun.

For maximum effect. So he would inflict whatever this was upon everyone, huh?

Scoundrel. But seeing him kick his feet and relish in the surprise like this, Lucifer had a distinct revelation: Alastor, the Radio Demon, was a complete dork.

Free will is fantastic.

"Then I will look forward to the wicked concert. You know what? I'll design invitations, make the whole thing ~official~." He swept his hands in a little arc akin to a rainbow, and manifested a little confetti in emphasis.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject