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

nO THIS WAS WORSE...! But no amount of maneuvering with his mouth could get the hanky to swat at the hand.

"Rescue mission." Sure. Let's go with that. But let's add something, make it pop-

"My idea was to become a duck and lead the others in a grand escape. Then we all were fleeing from the oven and becoming confit! The chef was strange, sang about how he wanted to cook us if he caught us. It was a nasty tactic to get the ducks scared, but they had their Captain. I code-named myself Captain Firequacker."

Firequacker. Heheheh. That gets a chuckle from Alastor, even as Lucifer scowled so much at him.

Satisfied with the makeup getting tidied, Alastor then smoothed out the frazzled blond hair.

"Confit is quite a lovely way to have duck. They're quite rich in fat and all - certainly helped mother and I get through particularly lean times," he hummed in amusement.

Oh, just wait until his hands are free...!

But for now he hummed. "Well sure, duck's pretty tasty! I just felt compelled to help this particular group. But on a good day, maybe with a little orange, make a nice glaze? Perfect."

The duck was squeaked twice. He looked down.

"Shush. You're not even edible. You're fine."

"And there's a delight to a good venison. Raw, stewed, or made into proper andouille sausage," he bemused, chuckling at the duck squeaking. Seems Alastor is a cannibal no matter how you look at it, enjoying the deer, too.

"Yes, lucky little duck, I don't enjoy chewing on plastic. You're quite safe with your new companion, should you treat him well."

He really shouldn't be surprised despite blinking one eye at a time at him. Alastor would be a sorry cannibal if he drew the line at venison in his current form. Though, he did wonder what he looked like in life...

"He's in good hands. ...Oh! Speaking of- rgh-" Okay, he tied this blanket pretty tight! Impressive. So instead he snaked his tail out from beneath him, and used the spiny spade to draw a circle in the air.

A small portal opened, and from it something fell out and balanced upon the flat of the spade. It was a red duck with a winning golden grin and red eyes. Hair, ears and small antlers, the coat and bow tie... yes, this was definitively how one makes an Alastor duck.

This was offered over. It was different from the one in his office. There was more detail, right down to the little monocle made of copper wire and a lens of crystal.

"...Go on."

To give it a squeeze would be like switching on a radio. After a gentle crackle of static, there was lo-fi swing with brass and clarinet, a quiet party all on its own.

Charming! It's still a bit juvenille, but he already had a funny little spot in mind for where to put it. The fact that it could play jazz did help its charms, though. With a clap, the duck vanished in a puff of glowing green.

"Off to your new hiding spot. Something for you to see if you can find, next we spar," he chuckled in amusement. It's kept, at least, appreciated as straightforwardly as Alastor can be.

Hmm... he personally never liked trying to go to sleep after a nightmare had hit him. His own mind was always racing at times like those.

"I'm going to fix myself a bit of coffee. Want a bit? Or will that sully your next attempt at sleep?"

A challenge! A side-quest. He would just have to think hard on where to look the next time.

But he watched his tail a while and shuffled awkwardly in his cocoon. Sleep was... not going to be a thing for a while, or it might just pick up where he left off. Or worse, restart. Yet he knew if he didn't catch any sleep, he'd be flagging come morning. Charlie was the early bird.

To his relief, the offer of coffee was on. "...I don't know if it's a gene or something with the brain, but coffee doesn't jitter me up, actually. That'd be perfect."

His time was now! For all the patting and dabbing that had been done to him, Lucifer realized he had an extremity to use. Without his arms, he had his tail, so he snaked it around and used that to reach up and give one long stroke from the base to the tip of a black-tipped, fuzzy ear.

A cheeky little touch and flip.

"Pretty please~"

The touch of the tail at his ear had Alastor hesitate. His ear flicked a little at the touch, but it... wasn't unpleasant. Hmm. It brought to mind many previous curious hands, though... some that were rough and got bitten for it, and others that were gentle when he shouldn't have allowed that sort of gentleness from them.

...

Hmm. File that away for another day. He stood heading towards the kitchen and leaving Lucifer to his swaddled prison. "Cream or sugar at all, dear boy?"

He was about to say a little of both, but he remembered that he'd had boatloads of snacks and soft drinks before falling asleep during the movie night. Maybe... maybe something more like a dessert would just have him back in his nightmare.

"Just a little cream to smooth it out. ...Thank you."

With a snap of his fingers in acknowledgement, Alastor disappeared into the kitchen to prepare that for them. He only needed as much time as it took the kettle to heat - he preferred his pour-overs, after all, sufficiently simple and not time-consuming.

That, and he always had a stash of very lovely coffee he splurged what resources he did have to get. Some lovely low-acid blend and a bit of cream in the green mug for Lucifer. That is, the green mug with a barista deer on it with the words "Star-Bucks" underneath, matching his own "Oh, Deer!" red mug.

He'll walk back with the mugs and sit back on the sofa. "Here you are."

Once Alastor disappeared, the King looked down upon his soft and fluffy prison. He could shapeshift easily enough and get himself free, but...

Comfy. It was like a hug.

The bundle was missing a blond head when Alastor returned, as Lucifer had wiggled his way into sinking further into the makeshift tent of fleece.

The tail emerged and felt around a bit before accepting the offered mug.

"Thank you again." Then a blanket flap lifted as his head emerged.

Paused.

Snorted in amusement at the text on the cup.

"No name on my cup...? Am I already such a regular?" He tipped it to his lips and drank.

...Hoooogh that's the shit. Where'd he get his coffee?

"Who would mess up the coffee order of the king of hell?" Alastor laughed, taking a sip from his mug. He paused...

"...Besides myself, of course. Though I hadn't, this time."

"If you did, I sure didn't notice. You make a good cup of coffee, Bambi. The kind that doesn't need much, if at all, to really get you going."

Another drink.

"I've had... convenience store coffees, gas station types, to swing to the other side of the spectrum. Colored me curious, though the clerks at the front counter about died of shock, wondering what a Morningstar was doing at a 7666. But those are coffees that need all the milk in the world to muddle the taste of an old burner, of sediment that's been sitting at the bottom of the pot for the day and the day before. Of course, I've also had indie shop coffees that try too hard, and aren't worth the price. It's all about hitting a happy medium and pushing forward what you know about your beans."

On that, Alastor can certainly agree. There's no rush to answer, letting the bitter and nutty notes sing on his palate and appreciating the moment, first.

"Grinding your own beans and doing a simple pour-over is a convenient and rather easy way to go about it, I find. Getting beans sourced from anywhere on Earth is far too expensive, but I have found a rather nice family business that grows coffee in Wrath - rare they ever deliver to Pride, but I've made a Deal to get some of their beans set aside for me," he mused.

"Must be much less claustrophobic in other Rings, I wager."

"It is," he answered simply. "And you wouldn't believe the number of petitions I get to lift the restriction."

With a sigh, he leaned back against the cushions. "I practically have a box for them all to go in. It's... it's just not that simple. Nothing about any of this is simple, cut and dry."

Finally, he managed to get an arm free, and relieved his tail. He'd tucked the duck to sit on his shoulder and remain vigilant.

"But I try to explain why, and it's forgotten in two generations. It just becomes a lesson in futility."

"Meant to keep the Exorcists from going further down, isn't it? Though I can't imagine that old treaty will still be holding up at this point, hmm?"

He chuckles. Nothing is ever simple, or straightforward. That's always been the case.

"Though I imagine the hellborn wouldn't be terribly keen on a disruption of their spaces with Sinners starting to expand and fight for territory there, either."

He nodded. It kept the Exorcists to one Ring, and helped his pardon of all hellborn be upheld. ...Fat lot of good that did, when not only was poor Dazzle killed, but Charlie was moments away from death at the hands of Adam.

"I'm waiting for word from Heaven involving that treaty, though by all accounts, I doubt Sera would want to see this face again if she could help it. I wish I could join those discussions, but..."

He felt cold again. Would they all turn away and remind him of old times? He'd be a ghost again, or humiliated throughout all over again.

He drank more of the coffee. Let it warm him. "It's going to be up to Charlie. If anyone knows what needs to be said and discussed, it's going to be my daughter. As for the Rings, it... well."

He looked up. "You've seen the turf wars. You know the V's, and the other Overlords better than me. They'd love nothing more than to take what they could of all of Hell. And I know Mammon more than anyone- He would drown in so much energy, and-..."

Lucifer stilled. No. He was saying too much.

"I always wondered why you never bothered to clean house yourself," Alastor chuckled a little. He already knew how Hellborn and Sins tended to work, thanks to cornering a few Goetia in some Deals... but hearing from Lucifer himself was interesting. What else could be learned, he wondered?

"Though if you simply didn't have the heart for it, that would make sense, hah hah. I think Charlie's warm little heart twists in pretzels if she has to raise her hand against someone."

"I can't say I've never bothered. There were eras where I... had to respond." He leaned his head back, closed his eyes.

"At the start, I sat back and Lily sang, inspired the Sinners that fell after her. The numbers would grow, and it quickly moved past the idea of potential camaraderie with others scorned by Heaven. Some Sinners thought they could run things better... made attempts on the Queen and myself to usurp the throne, which were quelled. Those were the days where I first turned a blade on Sinners. I made myself something of a tyrant, showing examples of what not to do, to never cross the Morningstars. I even did the whole 'heads on pikes' thing, as distasteful as I thought it was. But it worked... to a degree. That was when my first message from Sera came through. My first time speaking with her, in fact, since the day that I Fell."

He paused. The scowl formed, deepened.

"That's also when I learned Heaven had been watching us. They wondered if Hell would rise to conquer Heaven, what with all the grumbling. Heaven has an amazing inability to listen to anyone. I was covered in the blood of Sinners, so why should they listen to the devil? That's... that's when I was told that I 'no longer had Hell under control'. And hey... maybe she was right. As much as I disagreed, as much as I tried to challenge her, that year was when the first Purge occurred. 'For the greater good', she'd said."

He remembered that day. Her eyes hadn't even turned to him as she spoke with him. Perhaps it was the blood, but... he had grown weary of being spoken over, looked through.

Should he be telling anyone any of this? No... but he was so tired, he was so cold. He just couldn't bring himself to care.

Because this, too, would just be forgotten later.

"...Hmm." Alastor's eyes narrowed, quite specifically at the moment that Sera's 'judgment' had been passed. No, that timing didn't make sense. If Lucifer had just turned his blade and proven he would cut down those that tried to defy the Morningstars, why would Sera's solution to that then be... the Exorcisms? Mere moments after the angel that Heaven once knew as 'naive' and 'foolhardy' had proven that he could turn his blade against the Sinners and that he would not be cowed.

Something stunk.

Was Heaven more afraid then of a revolting Hell, seeing how Lucifer could actually use force to subjugate his peoples? With Lilith still inspiring a fiery fervor of discontent? Or was there something else at play?

"This Sera seems like a particularly Machiavellian sort, doesn't she?"

In response, he gave an exasperated sigh. "The Plan, the Plan, the Plan! Everything was all about the Plan! Can't deviate from the Plan! Earth should be like this, these concepts have been approved, this is what the Creator wants, the dust should not be wasted! We must do only what is required to fit with the Plan!"

He laughed, a thin sound as he lost his breath, and brought his other hand to his forehead.

"I don't even know what the Plan is! Only that I had to follow it! If it was a good Plan, everyone should know about it so that everyone can contribute and add their own flair, their own touches and make it... make it so much better..."

"That's the rub, isn't it? Perhaps Sera was unwilling to entrust others with The Plan, or perhaps there was no Plan to begin with. Just a need to cling to Order?" Hummmm. Interesting. "After all, isn't it interesting how she claimed you didn't have control of Hell and couldn't quash a rebellion mere moments after you did just such a thing?"

"I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if there was no Plan at all. Sera always did take her role seriously. Maybe the idea of some drawn-out Plan helped the angels feel that they were working toward some... I don't know, some grand goal?"

But the question does quiet him. Sera had said they were watching, so clearly, they had watched him actually handle the rebellion. But it did feel like they presumed he fought all the time, and needed the intervention.

...Except they'd know that if they were watching.

He blinked.

Sighed.

"She always had it out for me the minute I opened my big mouth. As 'rubby' and interesting as it is to consider that Sera's actions bring it's own hypocrisy and problems, she kept a rather tight ship up there and still likely does. They all love her up there, for some reason... it'd take a lot to make the angels question, and if they do...?"

He whistled as he dove a hand from high to low, indicating a fall.

"I'd know, because they'd be right down here with me."

"Oh and how truly terrible that would be, wouldn't it? If Heaven lost its angels because they began to question things... if they were dropped here and became as much of a fallen as the Morningstars. What a court you could build," Alastor mused, the glow of his eyes a bit more intense than usual.

This was fun to speculate.

"Why, I think the old girl might be afraid of you and your competence. She had to try and break your spirit instead... using Adam himself as a tool to that end."

...Hmm... a court, huh? That could be rather interesting. Like Sera with the seraphim, how would he fare with a wide court of fallen angels, all looking to spit in the eye of Order and play around with all that free will?

Perhaps he needed to be less of a mess first. But damn does Bambi talk some fun speculations. And oh... oh, to make Sera regret everything she'd done was enough to stir the blood. Every nightmare grips his brain with every ounce of that derision and humiliation. If he could just turn that back somehow, some day...

"Haha... Far be it from me for her to use Adam in this regard. After everything they put me through, do you have any idea how good it was to finally be able to tenderize that smug bastard's face?"

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