"Ain't that the truth! I wondered what it was that drew you to her, but she is positively scary beyond all reason. And now has Adam to add to her body count!"
A pause. "Was she another human you knew in life, or...?"
"Not at all! The little darlin' came down to Hell in the fifties! She was a twisted, perplexing little creature even back then," Alastor sighed with such clear fondness. "A delightfully insane young lady. And fearless to boot!"
Unlike Mimzy or the other residents of the Hotel, Alastor's fondness for Niffty is as clear as his fondness for Rosie - even with Niffty's blatantly unhinged nature, Alastor finds it easy to trust her and enjoy her presence.
Women could just be easier, like that. Though they could also be worse.
"As it stands, I believe Mimzy is all the company from New Orleans in the era that had made it down here. Hardly surprising - the radio station was full of good, honest folk."
It was clear just seeing them interact that there was a strong bond there. A bond of some form of insanity and being just so curious was a viable connection.
"Ever ponder what it'd be like to speak with any of your old colleagues at all? I do wonder if any of the Sinners and so-called 'Winners' share a desire to catch up, should such a thing be possible."
"No," Alastor answered without hesitation. "No, no, I'd much prefer they live in their peaceful afterlives with the impression of me they had before. None of them need to know the truth about the man who stalked the streets in the dead of the night and made people disappear."
He made a bit of a flourish with his hands to emphasize the last word. "The only ones who knew the truth about me in life all fell down here until I dispatched of the wretches a second and final time."
"We're wretches truly deserving of our place here! Quite fine by me. It's fun to be the monster hunting monsters," Alastor smirked broadly, bloodlust practically radiating off of him. "Ah, but the good times do come to an end. Only ne'er-do-wells that threaten the Hotel are on the menu, these days. Can't be getting distracted, now."
"Ohh, but a beast can fantasize...! I've relived the look on Adam's face and rearranging it like bad ground hamburger on a number of occasions. After the Garden, after dealing with the Embassy meetings, woof..." He fanned himself a little.
"I hadn't been able to cut loose like that in far too long! Maybe I should sport the horns, let the tail loose for a while. Let it be a lit-tle reminder."
"Oh, it feels so good. A reminder to all of your might, and your menace," Alastor agreed with a staticky growl. Being frightening was delightful, being feared and respected for the awe of your might is without compare.
"Never let the masses assume they can make a fool of you ever again."
Oh, that. That was. ...Uhm. There's a tingle up his back from that growl, one that- rather than be a dash of cold water- instead added further kindling to a fire in his belly.
"I hear tell of your many talents in the menacing regard. I recall your show outside the Hotel against those loan sharks, but do feel free to regale me with tales of your finest theatrics."
By all means, Alastor, talk about yourself. This is such a nice outing.
"Weeeell... I like my work to speak for itself, but since you had missed my radio show..." Alastor hummed, his voice slightly peaking its 'speaker'. It certainly added eerieness - as did Alastor's malicious aura making him look even more emaciated, growing out his antlers.
"My debut in Hell, once I had properly constructed a tower from which to broadcast... was in collecting voices. The process is quite easy, not at all different than in life.
"One picks a target, and simply observes. Through shadows, through any communications they used over radio waves, I learned who they were and what they had done. And Overlords are no less competent or confident than a sad man that strikes his wife, or a murderer of children... they think it's safe to walk alone at night.
"Of course, unlike in life, no one learns a lesson if scum simply disappears into the bayou, into the bellies of alligators. No, no. Hell is full of wretches. Those Overlords could serve better than being devoured unceremoniously on the streets. Names that had recognition, names that had caused terror for untold centuries relatively unchallenged... I brought them to the broadcasting station, gave Hell a kind introduction to who our guest of the day was, and started to eat them. Bound by shadows, drained of power, their screams echoed through all of Hell through the radio waves as I ate them piece by piece, keeping them awake and begging for their pathetic existence as I tore their souls into utter shreds and left not a single bite of them behind to regenerate from."
He could hear it now, the jaunty voice, the dance of ragtime in the background as the other voice swore and protested. Then that voice would change the moment they realized there was nothing they could do.
It was about sending a message.
The King applauded... well, as best as he could with his arms full.
"Oohoohoo~ Any you look back on and wonder if maaaybe you could have added a little more sugar on the cream?"
"Oh, aren't there always? A few that had blacked out... I should have forced them back awake, but I'd gotten impatient, or over excited. I should have savored every possible second of their suffering. Every one of those that completely broke under my knife and fork, begging for their Creator as if he would ever save them..."
Alastor chuckled, his voice dropped deeper, his smile impossibly wide.
Oh, he knew the Creator. Finicky guy. Others? Not a clue. But whoever would help the poor Sinners that decided to make this place their little playground and oppress others, abuse their free will...?
Lucifer brought a hand to mask and leaned for a theatrical whisper, perhaps a purr: "...And who tasted the best...?"
"With ease, it was the iguana fellow. He had teeth and horns and frills to spare, but there was such succulent meat once the hide was peeled away... I told him it reminded me of eating gator, back in Louisiana, and I had such a nostalgic little chat about how to best prepare gator."
He chuckles darkly.
"I don't imagine he was paying terribly much attention - he could only form the words to curse my name."
Still-- Alastor paused in their walk, tapping at Lucifer's chest with his mic. "Now what's got you so terribly curious, pal? Hadn't you once said that Sinners are loathesome, violent psychopaths when trying to dissuade dear Charlie?"
He did suddenly wonder what gator was like... was it a universal 'tastes like chicken', or was it like catfish in that it had its own unique category...? Ah, but that's neither here nor there.
The tap had him smirk. "I did! And there are plenty of the lowest of the low living down here in Hell."
He shrugged. "...Yet Charlie sees something in everyone. She sees that second chance for those who want to reach out, and I believe in her and her spirit. While it would be naive to think nobody would ever take advantage of her generosity and kindness, perhaps even use the Hotel for their own means, it certainly never hurts to... ask. Be curious. Get their story."
Lucifer looked up, nudged with an elbow. "...Even yours, even if you don't feel much like checking in, yourself. Why, you've gone above and beyond for my daughter, and for that, I have to... thank you. Sincerely."
Lucifer had brought it up a few times - it'd been something that'd made the king so nervous before, frantically worried about being replaced as a 'father'. But that's changed, hasn't it?
It was an interesting feeling, to be appreciated - at least by someone besides Charlie. Even Charlie was careful not to let herself get too vulnerable around Alastor. He hadn't felt like that quite since he was a living man, and no one knew his misdeeds - yet here Lucifer was, sincere in saying it even after a lengthy conversation about relishing in violence and cannibalism.
"You've given me quite a treat - seeing that the King of Hell isn't just some energetic polka dancer, but is also a fearsome predator lying in wait."
He chuckled. "You'd certainly know what musical ambiance can bring to a deadly situation, but you really should hear how an accordion can add some ominous undertones to a tune sometime!"
But Lucifer had gone quiet. A treat, huh...?
"...Say..."
Oh boy, how should he go about this?
"I don't entirely have any exchange in mind just yet, but perhaps what you've accomplished so far has rather earned something, would it not?"
Lucifer Morningstar, let's not beat around the damned bush. But talk had been planting a seed in his brain that had begun rapidly growing into a curiosity!
"You've had Exorcist, yes, but surely... seraphim... must be better?"
...He was serious. Alastor's mind flashed back to that night they'd had dinner together, the king's face at being teased for being possibly delicious.
And yet here he was, offering it as a treat.
"Really now! You'd offer me your body for a reward? Even in part? Fascinating," he mused, pinching Lucifer's arm like he was gauging the meat on the bone. "And quite funny - I would indulge but alas, I think Charlie would be quite cross with me if her father came home from Cannibal Town missing any appendages," he bemused, 'affectionately' patting Lucifer's head.
Pinch all you want, Giraffe. This is Grade-A prime (fallen) seraphim! But he had to think about 'offering his body as a reward'... just not too long, or he may need to head home for a little break and soak his head.
But the King grinned. "Now, now...! I like my appendages, thank you very much, and you would be right. Charlie has enough to worry about. How-e-ver..."
With a flourish of a wrist, a roll of his fingers, his haul had drawn back a sleeve to reveal a smoky wrist, its odd gradient before its gradual fade to marble white.
"What's a little blood between friends, eh? Color me curious on if mine's different from the likes of these blood-thirsty harpies that pestered my realm like a cloud of gnats each year, led by that bloated windbag! I mean, it must, right?"
"Surely so," Alastor hummed in agreement, though he seemed distracted - he took Lucifer's wrist in his own hand and held it firm, but without squeezing. Alastor pressed a thumb against the inside, rubbing gently to find the veins, feel the thump of life coursing through the fallen seraphim.
What a strange, morbid little thing for Lucifer to offer him. And in thanks. But a gift is a gift... he shouldn't peer too much at the horse's mouth, right?
Bending at the waist, Alastor almost looked as though he was bowing to kiss the royal hand. But his teeth sharply cut into flesh instead, puncturing and not slashing, careful not to give Lucifer a grievous wound. And from there... he wrapped his lips around the bleeding gold, dribbling from the gradient of flesh, and drew in mouthful after mouthful to coat his tongue. It did taste different... Lucifer's magic sung in his blood, and Alastor's pupils dilated in fixation.
Yes, it'd certainly be rude to turn down the gift of a King. And here he thought they were chums!
Ignoring the screaming corner of his brain demanding to know what he was thinking, letting himself be some sort of little juice packet, curiosity and recklessness insisted everything would be fiiiine.
Maybe it'd be fun.
He wasn't going to back down on a consideration like this, no sir! The Sin of Pride wasn't going to be a cad!
Fascinated, his breath unexpectedly caught as Alastor lowered. It really did seem like some sort of gesture, sending his mind dabbling into the only mostly-uncharted waters of... things he hadn't entirely considered before recently, the source of the game he'd been playing during lunch.
He bit down and it was like a firm pinch, a flash of heat. He grit his teeth against it and made... alright, not the most dignified sound about it, but it drove his breath from him in something bordering on stumbling; a fight to keep from voicing his discomfort, or a shout at him to take it easy.
He'd had paddles, whips before. He'd had a grand manner of things to suit Lily's tastes whenever she had them, and he was a very willing participant. But to have been bitten to the point of broken skin, to be tasted like this was... something he needed to seriously unpack later.
Perhaps a safe word would have been helpful before diving in?
But the hand that went to the top of the sinner's head didn't quite push him away. No, it settled, delved through soft red, gave Lucifer a level of focus on the ebbing heat in his arm, soft lips, the firm tongue. What would all that feel like on a leg? A shoulder, perhaps?
...How about the neck, among so many other places that could hide under a sleeve or a collar...?
It wasn't quite that he was pulling magic out of Lucifer, not really... but the magic was so saturated in the blood that it was like the kick of a potent cup of coffee - but so much more viscerally satisfying. Alastor slowed his sucking, licking up the blood and looking through red bangs at the king.
His sclera had gone dark as his eyes otherwise glowed, every ounce of his heart pounding and telling him to bite, devour, consume-- he's delicious.
Instead he focused on the hand in his hair. The way his skin was a bit sweaty from the pain, just the faintest bit. Alastor dragged his tongue over the bite wound, his tongue almost numb from how the blood tasted.
His breath caught with the look in his eyes. As a King he should feel offended with how predatory, how intense it had looked, but it instead twisted his stomach into a knot.
Coupled with the feel of his tongue, the suckles against his skin, Lucifer was having a hard time feeling different than long, warm nights of the past where he enjoyed those same touches feathering over his body; nights where he felt like he was home and everything was perfect. ...Mostly perfect.
Mouth slightly agape save for a small swallow of mercy to wet his mouth again, he wondered if Alastor knew to stop. ...Or if he should tell him to stop. But he did only have so much blood, and may wind up spending the next hour or two woozy at this rate-
He'd been so kind to Charlie. He'd been there from the beginning. He can be a catty asshole, petty beyond all reason, but he was nothing but a gentleman to Charlotte--
But the Radio Demon spoke, and Lucifer's remembering to breathe again was a very small gasp.
Then a slightly not-very-together laugh.
"Hi-high praise...! HA! I knew I had to be tasty! Should I bring some the next time? I might have a bottle lying around somewhere for a special occasion."
"Next time? My, my. You'd like this to be a reoccurring ritual?"
Alastor chuckled, running his fingers over the bites as they sealed up. Once they did, he spun Lucifer around, taking full advantage of the bloodless dizziness he'd inflict to twirl the king and catch him in his arms.
"I can appease your masochism in secret if you wish. Shall I escort you safely back to the Hotel? Need I carry you, after the bloodletting?"
"Wh- I... Iieeeooh-" Perfectly dignified attempts to explain himself scattered to the floor, bites sealing closed beneath attentive fingers. He was left defenseless for the twirl that should leave him wobbling in his boots.
Instead, he was... caught, and mildly deafened with his heart thundering in his ears.
He hadn't felt like- like this since... since Lily... but...
He held on tight to the other man, mid-swoon. Half of it was from the mild anemia. The rest was... uh-
His mind and his pride said 'Thank you, I'm fine'. But his mouth decided to rebel:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2024-04-01 08:17 am
no subject
A pause. "Was she another human you knew in life, or...?"
no subject
Unlike Mimzy or the other residents of the Hotel, Alastor's fondness for Niffty is as clear as his fondness for Rosie - even with Niffty's blatantly unhinged nature, Alastor finds it easy to trust her and enjoy her presence.
Women could just be easier, like that. Though they could also be worse.
"As it stands, I believe Mimzy is all the company from New Orleans in the era that had made it down here. Hardly surprising - the radio station was full of good, honest folk."
no subject
"Ever ponder what it'd be like to speak with any of your old colleagues at all? I do wonder if any of the Sinners and so-called 'Winners' share a desire to catch up, should such a thing be possible."
no subject
He made a bit of a flourish with his hands to emphasize the last word. "The only ones who knew the truth about me in life all fell down here until I dispatched of the wretches a second and final time."
no subject
"Me, I'm more the 'it was me and you won't forget it' type. Then again, that's why I'm down here and not up top, eh?"
no subject
no subject
"I hadn't been able to cut loose like that in far too long! Maybe I should sport the horns, let the tail loose for a while. Let it be a lit-tle reminder."
no subject
"Never let the masses assume they can make a fool of you ever again."
no subject
"I hear tell of your many talents in the menacing regard. I recall your show outside the Hotel against those loan sharks, but do feel free to regale me with tales of your finest theatrics."
By all means, Alastor, talk about yourself. This is such a nice outing.
no subject
"My debut in Hell, once I had properly constructed a tower from which to broadcast... was in collecting voices. The process is quite easy, not at all different than in life.
"One picks a target, and simply observes. Through shadows, through any communications they used over radio waves, I learned who they were and what they had done. And Overlords are no less competent or confident than a sad man that strikes his wife, or a murderer of children... they think it's safe to walk alone at night.
"Of course, unlike in life, no one learns a lesson if scum simply disappears into the bayou, into the bellies of alligators. No, no. Hell is full of wretches. Those Overlords could serve better than being devoured unceremoniously on the streets. Names that had recognition, names that had caused terror for untold centuries relatively unchallenged... I brought them to the broadcasting station, gave Hell a kind introduction to who our guest of the day was, and started to eat them. Bound by shadows, drained of power, their screams echoed through all of Hell through the radio waves as I ate them piece by piece, keeping them awake and begging for their pathetic existence as I tore their souls into utter shreds and left not a single bite of them behind to regenerate from."
no subject
It was about sending a message.
The King applauded... well, as best as he could with his arms full.
"Oohoohoo~ Any you look back on and wonder if maaaybe you could have added a little more sugar on the cream?"
no subject
Alastor chuckled, his voice dropped deeper, his smile impossibly wide.
no subject
Lucifer brought a hand to mask and leaned for a theatrical whisper, perhaps a purr: "...And who tasted the best...?"
no subject
He chuckles darkly.
"I don't imagine he was paying terribly much attention - he could only form the words to curse my name."
Still-- Alastor paused in their walk, tapping at Lucifer's chest with his mic. "Now what's got you so terribly curious, pal? Hadn't you once said that Sinners are loathesome, violent psychopaths when trying to dissuade dear Charlie?"
no subject
The tap had him smirk. "I did! And there are plenty of the lowest of the low living down here in Hell."
He shrugged. "...Yet Charlie sees something in everyone. She sees that second chance for those who want to reach out, and I believe in her and her spirit. While it would be naive to think nobody would ever take advantage of her generosity and kindness, perhaps even use the Hotel for their own means, it certainly never hurts to... ask. Be curious. Get their story."
Lucifer looked up, nudged with an elbow. "...Even yours, even if you don't feel much like checking in, yourself. Why, you've gone above and beyond for my daughter, and for that, I have to... thank you. Sincerely."
no subject
It was an interesting feeling, to be appreciated - at least by someone besides Charlie. Even Charlie was careful not to let herself get too vulnerable around Alastor. He hadn't felt like that quite since he was a living man, and no one knew his misdeeds - yet here Lucifer was, sincere in saying it even after a lengthy conversation about relishing in violence and cannibalism.
"You've given me quite a treat - seeing that the King of Hell isn't just some energetic polka dancer, but is also a fearsome predator lying in wait."
no subject
But Lucifer had gone quiet. A treat, huh...?
"...Say..."
Oh boy, how should he go about this?
"I don't entirely have any exchange in mind just yet, but perhaps what you've accomplished so far has rather earned something, would it not?"
Lucifer Morningstar, let's not beat around the damned bush. But talk had been planting a seed in his brain that had begun rapidly growing into a curiosity!
"You've had Exorcist, yes, but surely... seraphim... must be better?"
no subject
And yet here he was, offering it as a treat.
"Really now! You'd offer me your body for a reward? Even in part? Fascinating," he mused, pinching Lucifer's arm like he was gauging the meat on the bone. "And quite funny - I would indulge but alas, I think Charlie would be quite cross with me if her father came home from Cannibal Town missing any appendages," he bemused, 'affectionately' patting Lucifer's head.
no subject
But the King grinned. "Now, now...! I like my appendages, thank you very much, and you would be right. Charlie has enough to worry about. How-e-ver..."
With a flourish of a wrist, a roll of his fingers, his haul had drawn back a sleeve to reveal a smoky wrist, its odd gradient before its gradual fade to marble white.
"What's a little blood between friends, eh? Color me curious on if mine's different from the likes of these blood-thirsty harpies that pestered my realm like a cloud of gnats each year, led by that bloated windbag! I mean, it must, right?"
no subject
What a strange, morbid little thing for Lucifer to offer him. And in thanks. But a gift is a gift... he shouldn't peer too much at the horse's mouth, right?
Bending at the waist, Alastor almost looked as though he was bowing to kiss the royal hand. But his teeth sharply cut into flesh instead, puncturing and not slashing, careful not to give Lucifer a grievous wound. And from there... he wrapped his lips around the bleeding gold, dribbling from the gradient of flesh, and drew in mouthful after mouthful to coat his tongue. It did taste different... Lucifer's magic sung in his blood, and Alastor's pupils dilated in fixation.
no subject
Ignoring the screaming corner of his brain demanding to know what he was thinking, letting himself be some sort of little juice packet, curiosity and recklessness insisted everything would be fiiiine.
Maybe it'd be fun.
He wasn't going to back down on a consideration like this, no sir! The Sin of Pride wasn't going to be a cad!
Fascinated, his breath unexpectedly caught as Alastor lowered. It really did seem like some sort of gesture, sending his mind dabbling into the only mostly-uncharted waters of... things he hadn't entirely considered before recently, the source of the game he'd been playing during lunch.
He bit down and it was like a firm pinch, a flash of heat. He grit his teeth against it and made... alright, not the most dignified sound about it, but it drove his breath from him in something bordering on stumbling; a fight to keep from voicing his discomfort, or a shout at him to take it easy.
He'd had paddles, whips before. He'd had a grand manner of things to suit Lily's tastes whenever she had them, and he was a very willing participant. But to have been bitten to the point of broken skin, to be tasted like this was... something he needed to seriously unpack later.
Perhaps a safe word would have been helpful before diving in?
But the hand that went to the top of the sinner's head didn't quite push him away. No, it settled, delved through soft red, gave Lucifer a level of focus on the ebbing heat in his arm, soft lips, the firm tongue. What would all that feel like on a leg? A shoulder, perhaps?
...How about the neck, among so many other places that could hide under a sleeve or a collar...?
no subject
His sclera had gone dark as his eyes otherwise glowed, every ounce of his heart pounding and telling him to bite, devour, consume-- he's delicious.
Instead he focused on the hand in his hair. The way his skin was a bit sweaty from the pain, just the faintest bit. Alastor dragged his tongue over the bite wound, his tongue almost numb from how the blood tasted.
"...You'd pair with a lovely bordeaux."
no subject
Coupled with the feel of his tongue, the suckles against his skin, Lucifer was having a hard time feeling different than long, warm nights of the past where he enjoyed those same touches feathering over his body; nights where he felt like he was home and everything was perfect. ...Mostly perfect.
Mouth slightly agape save for a small swallow of mercy to wet his mouth again, he wondered if Alastor knew to stop. ...Or if he should tell him to stop. But he did only have so much blood, and may wind up spending the next hour or two woozy at this rate-
He'd been so kind to Charlie. He'd been there from the beginning. He can be a catty asshole, petty beyond all reason, but he was nothing but a gentleman to Charlotte--
But the Radio Demon spoke, and Lucifer's remembering to breathe again was a very small gasp.
Then a slightly not-very-together laugh.
"Hi-high praise...! HA! I knew I had to be tasty! Should I bring some the next time? I might have a bottle lying around somewhere for a special occasion."
no subject
Alastor chuckled, running his fingers over the bites as they sealed up. Once they did, he spun Lucifer around, taking full advantage of the bloodless dizziness he'd inflict to twirl the king and catch him in his arms.
"I can appease your masochism in secret if you wish. Shall I escort you safely back to the Hotel? Need I carry you, after the bloodletting?"
no subject
Instead, he was... caught, and mildly deafened with his heart thundering in his ears.
He hadn't felt like- like this since... since Lily... but...
He held on tight to the other man, mid-swoon. Half of it was from the mild anemia. The rest was... uh-
His mind and his pride said 'Thank you, I'm fine'. But his mouth decided to rebel:
"So responsible, Bambi... how can I refuse?"
(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)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)