"Oh hoh, any opportunity to try something from other Rings is a treat indeed! I'll take you up on the offer. What ships up here is always woefully far from fresh," Alastor beamed as he dug into his own plate, the rest of the fish and veggies disappearing.
"I could always use new spices to see what to better season with," he mused. Especially when he was dining on Sinners, in particular, they could all be so fussy to pair flavors for.
When you had some unsavory factors needing bribes to get goods up quickly and the imps were working their tails off, it was no wonder things didn't come up without taking a little time first. But the King... well, if he asked for something, it hurried along.
The Morningstars weren't the absolute pinnacles demanding respect here in Hell, but Lucifer liked to think he still had some level of pull.
"Well, I don't know about ushering up something like saffron by the pound here, but I think I can drum up some fun stuff for you to play with. ...On one condition."
He raised a finger.
"You'll need a taste tester! A couple at least. Charlie can be impartial, but she's got a Hell of a palate."
"Sold you on my abilities, have I? Even if I cook using meat from Sinners?" Alastor teased, taking a bite of some nicely snappy peppers. "It is, after all, the most memorable way to remind people not to mess with me or with this Hotel. I find many Sinners aren't interested in coming back even after regrowing limbs when I remind them what wine I found best paired with their flanks."
"Hold on now...! I'm not so soft that- that I'd not eat something cooked from Sinners!"
God, he was going to regret this conversation once he sobered up. But he was being CHALLENGED!!
"Besides, there are plenty of legends involving gaining power from eating pieces of your opponents! Why, who knows what anybody'd get nibbling on pieces of me, right? I've seen those online listings of gathered vials of angel's blood from that Purge!"
He went for his phone and started scrolling.
"...Yeah, see, right here- an aphrodisiac which is just plain silly- a strength enhancer- debatable- and..."
"Exorcists do taste a bit more clean as far as meat goes - I suppose heaven does have better food for them to graze on," Alastor chuckled, though he glanced at Lucifer as he proposed the idea of gaining powers from eating him.
"Hmmm... but the king of hell's flesh and blood... intereesting thought."
"I can tell you this much: The food is fancy, sure, but it's also low-carb, high-nutrition, gluten-free, soy-free, everything-free... there's all these textures and all, but after a while the food becomes more a thing to admire and look good around than enjoy. I said hey, maybe a little cheese goes a long way, but nooOOOOooo, that's fat and calories! Okay, what about a little sugar or honey for your tea? Empty carbs! Lucifer, stop questioning the way food is prepared!"
His rant dropped as he put the phone away. His eyebrows raised as he stared, owl-eyed, at Alastor.
But then he narrowed them mischievously, propped his chin in his hands over his empty plate. Damn. A clean plate, too.
"...Alastor, you can't just tell a man you want to eat them. You'll give them ideas."
"Can't I, though? Surely a little nibble wouldn't hurt," Alastor playfully replied, leaning in and 'walking' two fingers on Lucifer's shoulder, towards his neck.
"Quite a bargaining chip indeed, if you ever wanted to indulge a curious cannibal... quite a different sort of breathing down your neck than what you're used to, I imagine."
Lucifer had been caught off-guard plenty. He was like any other being, no matter the status. But with minute fingertip touches along his shoulder, the King had for the moment forgotten what sort of rapport he had planned.
He was swiftly reminded of the very real times he had literal breathing down his neck, and exactly how long it'd been since the last time.
When you were eternal, seven years meant nothing. Ten years? Twenty? Nothing. ...In other matters.
But when a man enjoyed a touch and was suddenly deprived of it, it was like having air stolen from your lungs; a meal snatched away from your reach. He was struggling to breathe and he was starving, and his own piteous mind was circling down avenues he didn't think he deserved would ever go down again.
All from a gesture and a few words.
The heat rushed up his face and set a bit of gold to muddle the white as he fought to keep his composure. Really? HERE? He really did have too much to drink-
"You imagine correctly. ...And now, I find myself wondering just what I could bargain, if only for a little taste of a seraphim." His statement ended with a quiet clear of his throat- his- his throat was a bit dry, that's why his voice sounded like that. Get your shit together, Lulu-
He was right. Lucifer, king of hell, was utterly starved for intimacy, for touch and closeness. It was never something Alastor knew the feeling of... but it did mean that, if he needed to, he could use that against Lucifer.
Though, at the moment, he didn't think he quite had anything to exchange or start negotiations for, either.
Just a little kindness, for now, then. A little squeeze of the shoulders, pressing his cheek playfully to Lucifer's, just like he did with silly little Charlie. "Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something, old boy," he teased lightly.
Heaven damn him, his heart shuddered. He even considered figuring out a way to make a phone call, even knowing it was pathetic, even if he has no idea where she is...
Lucifer reached up and brought a palm against the demon's ribcage, eased him away gently. Starving though he was, this was a prickly pear.
"Well, golly, I should take my time and have a think on that! I only have so much, after all, and who knows? Maybe being Fallen sours the blood or... or something."
"Fft- come now! I work with my hands all the time in my workshop! I've got nothing against a bit of dirty work. I tell ya- making my more complex ducks puts grease under the claws, puts sweat on the brow, you know...!"
There's being able to dream and create, and then there's making it all on your own from base parts. He leaned to gather up the dishes and set off to handle them in the sink.
"I won't begrudge you good manners," Alastor chuckled, crouching to give Keekee a pet now that she was grooming herself, sated on her little fishy treat. Another plate to be washed, of course.
He'd looked so put out before, when Alastor told him that he didn't respect the kingly title - and then he goes and does dishes, completely devoid of obnoxious royal pride. What a funny little 'king' Hell has. Not loathsome one bit.
He peeked back. ...Perfect. Tongue poked between his lips for focus, his tail manifested to loop the base of Keekee's saucer and snagged that too.
"Aww, good giiirl, Keekee~ You liked your snackie, baby fluff?"
If he had one personal rule, it was that whoever cooked should not be doing the dishes. Then he himself sort of broke his own rule by washing as he prepped, whenever he took it upon himself to make anything. Truly, a complicated King.
He paused, eyes on the ring. If he needed to wash things up, he should... probably...
...
He placed it on the counter. It's fine. It's right where he can see it. It'll only be for a couple of minutes, that's all.
Plates, silverware, filet knife, pan! He even challenged himself to do it all in record time. Maybe? Damn. He should have set a timer! Oh well.
But he washed his hands after with the frenzy of a little raccoon. His heart was racing uncomfortably. He needed to put the ring back on-
"Ooh- Wow, what's- why did-?" As he went to dry off, he wondered where that little nip of pain came from. He found the culprit: In his speed of washing everything, the keen knife had nicked a fingertip, aggravated by the soap and water. There, a small gold bead lingered.
"Oh. Whoops. Nnnnote to self: Don't wash dishes while on the sauce..." Because that's why he did it. He was- he was a little drunk.
A bit distracted, was he. Alastor stood and crossed the distance, inviting himself to take the injured hand and retrieve his red handkerchief, wiping down the rest of the hand first as he peered at that lovely golden sheen. As always, he never bothered waiting for permission to grab, to touch.
Nothing terribly serious. He'd be just fine with nothing but a little bandage to keep from dripping.
"In such a hurry, and you weren't quite careful of the knives. Tsk tsk," he teasingly clicked his tongue, the only warning before Alastor helped himself and licked up the divine water of life itself.
There was no real way to get a proper taste, like that. But the very subtle glint of flavor still danced on his tastebuds, made his pupils dilate with rapt attention.
And, just as quickly, he slid a little adhesive bandage on over the cut. No duckies, unfortunately, just a plain beige - he didn't even break out the band-aids very much in the first place, after all.
Alastor was practically there in a blink thanks to his own slowed faculties. Chided, Lucifer scowled as best as he could. ...Even if the demon was right, and he had been a little careless.
But then he'd wiped up his hand, which was nice. ...And...
Okay. So. He remembered the joke he'd made about giving awful ideas by saying things like 'eating them'. He remembered, and was now a victim of it.
But before he could do much more than feel his brain fizzling, there was a bandage to cover where he'd nicked himself.
"...'ppreciate it." Boy that didn't even remotely sound even and put-together at all.
Oh hoh hoh. The king really is a mess tonight, isn't he? The exhaustion and drunkenness must've been piling up. Alastor pat Lucifer's hand.
"Shall I walk you to your room~?" It definitely seemed like he was a little loopy, and maybe he needed to think of something tonight. He'll take the ring, sliding it back onto Lucifer's finger for him.
"Your choice~" Alastor condescended lightly, playfully, patting Lucifer on the top of the head. Some time to cool off and ponder his life choices is probably what the King needed.
"Good night, pal," he bade farewell, wiggling his fingers before melting into shadow and absconding. Enjoy your night processing all of that!
But in his privacy, his arms and shoulders slouched. He blinked blearily.
"Yeah... yeah, I'm... taking a drinking break..." Teleporting was possibly dangerous while intoxicated. So the King chose the walk of shame by exiting the kitchen on foot and setting off for sleep.
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divinetree2024-04-01 08:17 am
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"I could always use new spices to see what to better season with," he mused. Especially when he was dining on Sinners, in particular, they could all be so fussy to pair flavors for.
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The Morningstars weren't the absolute pinnacles demanding respect here in Hell, but Lucifer liked to think he still had some level of pull.
"Well, I don't know about ushering up something like saffron by the pound here, but I think I can drum up some fun stuff for you to play with. ...On one condition."
He raised a finger.
"You'll need a taste tester! A couple at least. Charlie can be impartial, but she's got a Hell of a palate."
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God, he was going to regret this conversation once he sobered up. But he was being CHALLENGED!!
"Besides, there are plenty of legends involving gaining power from eating pieces of your opponents! Why, who knows what anybody'd get nibbling on pieces of me, right? I've seen those online listings of gathered vials of angel's blood from that Purge!"
He went for his phone and started scrolling.
"...Yeah, see, right here- an aphrodisiac which is just plain silly- a strength enhancer- debatable- and..."
Squint.
"...Improves test scores...?"
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"Hmmm... but the king of hell's flesh and blood... intereesting thought."
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His rant dropped as he put the phone away. His eyebrows raised as he stared, owl-eyed, at Alastor.
But then he narrowed them mischievously, propped his chin in his hands over his empty plate. Damn. A clean plate, too.
"...Alastor, you can't just tell a man you want to eat them. You'll give them ideas."
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"Quite a bargaining chip indeed, if you ever wanted to indulge a curious cannibal... quite a different sort of breathing down your neck than what you're used to, I imagine."
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He was swiftly reminded of the very real times he had literal breathing down his neck, and exactly how long it'd been since the last time.
When you were eternal, seven years meant nothing. Ten years? Twenty? Nothing. ...In other matters.
But when a man enjoyed a touch and was suddenly deprived of it, it was like having air stolen from your lungs; a meal snatched away from your reach. He was struggling to breathe and he was starving, and his own piteous mind was circling down avenues he didn't think he
deservedwould ever go down again.All from a gesture and a few words.
The heat rushed up his face and set a bit of gold to muddle the white as he fought to keep his composure. Really? HERE? He really did have too much to drink-
"You imagine correctly. ...And now, I find myself wondering just what I could bargain, if only for a little taste of a seraphim." His statement ended with a quiet clear of his throat- his- his throat was a bit dry, that's why his voice sounded like that. Get your shit together, Lulu-
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Though, at the moment, he didn't think he quite had anything to exchange or start negotiations for, either.
Just a little kindness, for now, then. A little squeeze of the shoulders, pressing his cheek playfully to Lucifer's, just like he did with silly little Charlie. "Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something, old boy," he teased lightly.
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Lucifer reached up and brought a palm against the demon's ribcage, eased him away gently. Starving though he was, this was a prickly pear.
"Well, golly, I should take my time and have a think on that! I only have so much, after all, and who knows? Maybe being Fallen sours the blood or... or something."
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...
His fellow man a bit better.
"A little tartness never hurt anyone. Now, we ought to get to bed now that we've eaten. Wouldn't want to worry the little lady, now would we?"
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Lucifer needed to do a whole Hell of a lot of unpacking sometime soon.
"Oh, yes, of course! ...After I handle the dishes."
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There's being able to dream and create, and then there's making it all on your own from base parts. He leaned to gather up the dishes and set off to handle them in the sink.
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He'd looked so put out before, when Alastor told him that he didn't respect the kingly title - and then he goes and does dishes, completely devoid of obnoxious royal pride. What a funny little 'king' Hell has. Not loathsome one bit.
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"Aww, good giiirl, Keekee~ You liked your snackie, baby fluff?"
If he had one personal rule, it was that whoever cooked should not be doing the dishes. Then he himself sort of broke his own rule by washing as he prepped, whenever he took it upon himself to make anything. Truly, a complicated King.
He paused, eyes on the ring. If he needed to wash things up, he should... probably...
...
He placed it on the counter. It's fine. It's right where he can see it. It'll only be for a couple of minutes, that's all.
Plates, silverware, filet knife, pan! He even challenged himself to do it all in record time. Maybe? Damn. He should have set a timer! Oh well.
But he washed his hands after with the frenzy of a little raccoon. His heart was racing uncomfortably. He needed to put the ring back on-
"Ooh- Wow, what's- why did-?" As he went to dry off, he wondered where that little nip of pain came from. He found the culprit: In his speed of washing everything, the keen knife had nicked a fingertip, aggravated by the soap and water. There, a small gold bead lingered.
"Oh. Whoops. Nnnnote to self: Don't wash dishes while on the sauce..." Because that's why he did it. He was- he was a little drunk.
no subject
Nothing terribly serious. He'd be just fine with nothing but a little bandage to keep from dripping.
"In such a hurry, and you weren't quite careful of the knives. Tsk tsk," he teasingly clicked his tongue, the only warning before Alastor helped himself and licked up the divine water of life itself.
There was no real way to get a proper taste, like that. But the very subtle glint of flavor still danced on his tastebuds, made his pupils dilate with rapt attention.
And, just as quickly, he slid a little adhesive bandage on over the cut. No duckies, unfortunately, just a plain beige - he didn't even break out the band-aids very much in the first place, after all.
no subject
But then he'd wiped up his hand, which was nice. ...And...
Okay. So. He remembered the joke he'd made about giving awful ideas by saying things like 'eating them'. He remembered, and was now a victim of it.
But before he could do much more than feel his brain fizzling, there was a bandage to cover where he'd nicked himself.
"...'ppreciate it." Boy that didn't even remotely sound even and put-together at all.
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"Shall I walk you to your room~?" It definitely seemed like he was a little loopy, and maybe he needed to think of something tonight. He'll take the ring, sliding it back onto Lucifer's finger for him.
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"Uh- nope! Nope, I'm good! I think I can manage that much without injuring myself or falling asleep in the hall or something."
Tonight was a weird night and he needed to sleep and clear his head and work some things out.
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"Good night, pal," he bade farewell, wiggling his fingers before melting into shadow and absconding. Enjoy your night processing all of that!
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Lucifer.exe requires a restart.
But in his privacy, his arms and shoulders slouched. He blinked blearily.
"Yeah... yeah, I'm... taking a drinking break..." Teleporting was possibly dangerous while intoxicated. So the King chose the walk of shame by exiting the kitchen on foot and setting off for sleep.
"...And checking the dates on the barrels."