Lucifer quickly wound his tail around a leg to keep it absolutely still. Have some dignity.
He rubbed the heel of a hand against his forehead, ease the ache of horns that had torn through the skin. It let him focus anywhere but at him.
Not shaken, he said. Yet he could hear and feel so much earlier that he could easily call on that bullshit.
Instead, he'll let himself sail on it.
"...Right. I'll be checking in on that bite later, you understand?" He turned and waved a hand, as many fallen feathers began to swirl and vanish themselves.
But he'd been... 'messy' with a few. Left some behind.
"A good artist never lets their work sit after a first draft, after all... chér." He hadn't looked back. He was already off to his promised task.
Once Lucifer properly left, Alastor's expression properly soured - not with a dropped smile, never that, but with his ears pinned back and his brows furrowed, he sat on the bed until he'd regained enough strength and coordination to stand.
A snap of his fingers swirled all of the remaining feathers into his hand, from down to flight feather, and with them in his grasp he melted away and returned to his room, locking the door tightly to keep Charlie out. She did not need to be nosy and catch wind of any of this, thank you very much.
He'll settle for his two projects, instead - crafting a magnificent quill from the flight feather, giving it a light oil coating to protect it and enhance its sheen, and sewing together a voodoo doll of Lucifer stuffed with the downy feathers as the heart of the doll to make it all the more potent.
The man had his demons (hah) to battle, and he'd need to make the effort on his own... but if nothing else, he could dress and commune for this poppet for Lucifer, some semblance of promoting prosperity and protection. Hah. To think anyone would bother trying to protect the literal devil, and yet... it only made sense, now that Alastor was saying 'sha' whilst Lucifer was saying 'chér'. The project for tonight could occupy his time, occupy his mind as his body gobbled up his magicks to gradually build itself back up in every wound except his angelic wound.
A quick check-in with Charlie was about twenty, before she was tagged in for a debate between Husk and Angel Dust, the latter of which needed some back-up. They headed off to animated conversation.
This left the King of Hell wandering without a word, aimlessly, for what felt like days. Because he looked for all the world like he was definitely on his way to something or was deep in thought, nobody saw fit to bother him.
On days like these, he preferred it.
But a man could also drive himself insane with boredom.
You're sick. Sick. Like. Me.
...Fucking Alastor. He scowled. HE wasn't sick. Everything just sucks, and some days sucked worse. By all accounts, he should give the fella a piece of his mind!
But he recalled the wound. It'd been... a month and a half? Two? And it still looked like that. It was clear that Adam had used a blessed weapon, and probably something dearest to him.
That stupid guitar. His 'panty-dropper'.
His own frustration happily blended with concern. Alastor was, by all accounts, a citizen in his realm, and lived under this roof. Shouldn't he do something to help? He could heal, he could...
Without realizing, he'd passed the turn to head down the stairs. He'd been making a beeline...
The king stopped, puffed his cheeks, and zipped back to the turn toward the staircase. He pressed himself against the wall.
Wait. He can't come off as desperate. As much as grabbing an arm and kissing up the length of it was soundly his style, there's-
The walk to Alastor's room was still as usual, empty halls with empty rooms leading to the one that was warped, that had antlers hung on the door marking it as his.
Jazz was buzzing over the radio even through the door, a small semblance of comfort for himself as he worked. In a steady loop, Alastor was needling the doll's eyes repetitively, securing the eye with layer after layer of black thread. Pins held in place makeshift clothing, meant to evoke the man's visage more strongly, give the spirits something more to work off of. So they knew who to assist, who to protect.
"You don't actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya?"
Alastor's lip curled, and his hands paused. In his hands was the doll he was working on. Glancing up, in his work cabinet, was a small collection of previous dolls made... Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty, Mimzy, Rosie, Husk.
...Even Sir Pentious. It'd been quite a hoot to pluck a scale off of the man and terrify him, and he'd never shown the doll he'd made save for one glimpse to terrify one of the egg minions, to cause a little chaos and spread a little paranoia. The doll still had veves pinned to it... the same ones that had been added to the others before the Extermination day, as well.
...It was useless, now.
"C'mon! I know you. You heartless. Son. of. a. bitch."
Alastor glared at the doll in his hand, feeling... sickened. Perhaps foul moods were contagious. He had been having a strange sort of fun being torn apart, being exposed and splayed out, but... what was he doing?
"Oh, FUCK you, Alastor! All you do is stand there, smiling, while you watch US struggle and fail! ...I don't know how you can enjoy all this suffering so much."
Yes, yes. He was the one that enjoyed seeing people fail, see their despair, see them fail over and over again. He joined the fight because he wanted to see more of it, to see the project continue, to see more people show up and fall into their vices over and over in a futile effort.
Yes... that had to be why. He was the Radio Demon. And the Radio Demon could have a bit of fun, dallying around with the devil himself, but that ring made it clear enough that it was a flight of fancy. Why was he bothering with this?
...Despite himself, despite his mood plummeting, he kept sewing. Taking out pins as they were no longer needed, too absorbed in his own itching healing and his own thoughts to feel the presence coming closer to the door's seal. Not that it was a seal that would keep anyone out sincerely.
...Oh, who was he kidding!? He wanted to check in, and if Alastor didn't want to be bothered he could just say so. They were adults, for fuck's sake.
Lucifer straightened up and conjured his cane. He'll just keep it casual, quietly moving down the hall while peering over his shoulder in case of any peepers.
Just a little visit, if Al is in. Just a teeny-tiny, itty-bitty, eensy-weensy visit between two old chums who'vemadeoutafewtimes...
But first let's... hesitate at the door, give it a little touch. Why? He didn't know. Maybe it'd shock him or something.
There was a little fizzle on the door, and the touch made Alastor jolt a bit out of his thoughts.
Ah... Lucifer at the door already. Why so soon? His wound wasn't that severe for a non-holy wound. Perhaps he was coming around to dig in the insult of a 'lesson'. Or worse... apologizing.
Taking a moment to recollect himself, Alastor relaxed his scowl, unclenched his shoulders. Maybe a little distraction would do him good, a bit of verbal sparring would be nice.
With a flick of the wrist without standing up from his chair, Alastor dismissed the barrier and called through the door.
"You're welcome in, Lucifer, if Charlie's not with you~"
"Whoopsie~ Charlie, sweetie, better climb in my pocket real quick. Ssh, ssh! He'll never know."
And he nudged the door open, stepped on in. Closed it behind him and patted his coat pocket.
"Ahem- ah... Hi."
...Great start.
"I made those phone calls. I think this next weekend should be fine... for... the date."
His eyelids fluttered. Pieces clicked together. Then he leaned against the door and hugged his arms around his chest, tucked both hands in tight, running his thumb over the gold band. He hadn't been... dating... in a while. A long, long while.
Alastor's eyes flickered to the fidgeting, to the band, before looking at Lucifer's awkward face and softening his gaze. And fluttering his eyelashes, just a bit playfully.
"Oh, don't even think to apologize now, it's unbecoming," Alastor teased, leaning back and crossing his legs. "A week should be just fine to rest up," he added, clearly pointing it at Lucifer even if he was the one physically on the mend. His demon-inflicted wounds would be sealed up soon enough.
"Oh, you must be feeling guilty, to be throwing that word around to describe me," Alastor teased, though it was easy enough to sense that his pride was fluffed by the compliment.
"Nothing to feel guilt for. You have our dear Rosie to thank for selecting the vest - she's got more of the textile used so another can be made, since the first was destroyed in such a fun way."
He pushed away from the door. "She's a Hell of a lady! We really ought'a do lunch again sometime."
He'll just. Remember not to swallow the god-damned finger whole this time. Or stir with it.
But the king did a double-take. Then he frowned. "...Yeah, I figured you did that whole thing to rile me up! You're a cad! Also, I'm a builder, m'kay? If something's broken, I can put it back together, y'know."
"Hoh hoh! Trust me, it was a pleasant surprise just how enjoyable being devoured was. I see why you crave it so from me," Alastor giggled, amused as anything. See? Sick.
"Subject to your unholy fury and yet I am such a special pet, you'd never kill - hoh! What a thrill!"
He started, his face a faint yellow- CRAVE!? That's not-
I mean, he wasn't wro-
Ooh. No. Nonononohohohuuu. Let's not fall for that!
"HA! So it DID get you in a good way!" He marched right over and grasped the back of the Sinner's chair. His wings opened and lifted him to compensate for the height difference.
"Aren't you excited!" Alastor laughed, scratching under Lucifer's chin as if he were an over-excited pet. "It felt incredible, yes. To make the devil himself crumble and lose control. But not too much... after all, you wouldn't kill me, no matter how much I let you splay me open to be seen," he purred.
With a chuckle, he lifted the doll in his hand between them, wiggling the little arms. "With naught but words I had you doing exactly what I wanted. I became your obsession. Who wouldn't adore such a thing?" Always fond of being in the spotlight! Not seen by anybody, but perceived, enjoyed - he hated it with Vox, but he loved it from Lucifer. Lucifer who stopped when he asked, Lucifer who was older and more world-weary and has seen it all, Alastor was pulling his attention.
"You have stoked my fury in ways very few ever could. This sounds like a do it again, Lucifer, pretty, pretty please..." Pardon him. He'll have a little nip of one of those ears.
With that appendage between his teeth, he blinked at the little doll.
Alastor's ear flicked at the nibble, flicking again a few times after being released. He's still drained, but just enough blood's come back to him to add a little bit of color to his cheeks that he plays off as he reaches around Lucifer to place the doll on the shelf with the rest of them.
"It sure is! The down is needed so the spirits know where to find you," he chuckled, amused. "Hair could have sufficed - hair is what I took from Charlie, after all, for hers."
Pause. Take a moment. These were good things, Luci. Good things. All that bullshit about inflicting pain is something the community knocks down and fights to bury.
This was a nice thing done for Charlie.
"Heh... no pressure, right? I hope the spirits like me a little, at least."
"If you're worried, you can always give them more tribute!" Alastor chuckled, resting a hand on Lucifer's hip. "But in this case, I'm the one asking for help, so it's my rapport that matters~"
This was a nice distraction from frustrating thoughts. Lucifer was excitable, silly, curious - all appropriate traits. Alastor would reward him with a kiss on that pale white neck, cleaned of the blood he'd been soaked in earlier. The red blood looked good on Lucifer, like an elegant painting. But he also quite enjoyed the flush of gold under the skin when he could make Lucifer squirm - that was his favorite game.
It caught him by surprise, which earned a small squawk and a hitch of his shoulders in reflex. Ticklish, quiddit-
"Tri- tribute? Like what now...?" He'll get you back with the stroke of a finger along the shell of an ear. Whyyyy were they so soft, that's so unfair that they had to be so high up god damn it...
Their height isn't so bad when you're hovering so close, right? Much less if Alastor pulls Lucifer into his lap - if he's going to be here, he ought to sit, right?
"Food, drink, candles... there's a number of things pleasing to the Loa. Each of them has their own favorite, of course," he hummed, closing his eyes and enjoying the touch to his ears, since they were in the privacy of his room. He'd been ripped open, after all, no need to hide away his other minor vulnerabilities from Lucifer.
"Surely you've been given tribute from mortals? I can only imagine how many occultists and satanists have attempted to win your favor."
The almighty King of Hell was momentarily struck dumb and gold in the face upon being plunked in the lap. Once his brain restarted, he cleared his throat and adjusted his bow tie.
The new position allowed him to stroke with fervor, but still so very gently.
"...O-oh, yeah, tons! Blood offerings from the wilder ones, whole lot of red wine, fruit..."
His face flattened. "Jars filled with... fluids... so I try not to really touch offerings in the last few hundred years, unless I can observe the offering being made and know it's not, ah. Iffy."
It softened as he thought. "Lotta snakes. But I'd like them kept alive, the cute little things. SO tired of them getting killed and offered up to me."
"Much agreed. I quite miss having to be careful to dodge snakes in the riverside, hoh hoh," Alastor chuckled fondly, nostalgically, tone not unlike his reminiscing on the speakeasy dancing he'd done with Mimzy. He missed New Orleans.
"Lucky to get offerings - though Sinners certainly can pull some strings or some limbs to get a succubus to bring down animals from Earth, hoh hoh."
He glanced over past the wooden flooring, to the bog itself - still flush with blooms save for where the gators had been sliding on their bellies at the water shores. Though he couldn't claim he got the gators himself... they had been a gift. Ah, well. Alastor's grip tightened around Lucifer's waist - it's too bad Vox wasted their bond. Bastard, arrogant blowhard, complete asshole...
Smiling at Lucifer again, the deer gave him a gentle kiss. He definitely needed to practice kissing some more.
"I guess I could call it lucky- it's good power to draw from. But some days you get some weeeeird stuff." Let's ignore the letter asking for some of his used bath water. Let's never, ever bring it up and keep that buried.
Besides, that's an arm around the waist. He eased against him, but his hand lay against his chest very briefly before quickly shifting to the shoulder. Blink and you miss it.
The kiss was gentle and stirred the blood. Practice... ah... of course. Practice always made perfect. Lucifer lingered and brought that hand down from his ear to the back of his head. With a fond touch of deep red between his fingers, he eased into another kiss.
Such a surprise to see him initiate... who was he to refuse? He could help himself whenever he wanted...
"...Is that a request, Bambi...? Do you want offerings...?"
"What have our dates been if not funny little informal offerings? Though it's all in good fun rather than reverence," Alastor giggled. Though, there was a little bit of that earlier, when he was marveling in Lucifer's power and ferocity.... ahem.
"Though if you intend to hand me flowers, mind that they'll have to be in a container or I ought to be wearing gloves! I've got a black thumb rather than a green one," he chuckled. Speaking of... "Did you ever find the black box I brought you earlier?"
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divinetree2024-04-01 08:17 am
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...
Lucifer quickly wound his tail around a leg to keep it absolutely still. Have some dignity.
He rubbed the heel of a hand against his forehead, ease the ache of horns that had torn through the skin. It let him focus anywhere but at him.
Not shaken, he said. Yet he could hear and feel so much earlier that he could easily call on that bullshit.
Instead, he'll let himself sail on it.
"...Right. I'll be checking in on that bite later, you understand?" He turned and waved a hand, as many fallen feathers began to swirl and vanish themselves.
But he'd been... 'messy' with a few. Left some behind.
"A good artist never lets their work sit after a first draft, after all... chér." He hadn't looked back. He was already off to his promised task.
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A snap of his fingers swirled all of the remaining feathers into his hand, from down to flight feather, and with them in his grasp he melted away and returned to his room, locking the door tightly to keep Charlie out. She did not need to be nosy and catch wind of any of this, thank you very much.
He'll settle for his two projects, instead - crafting a magnificent quill from the flight feather, giving it a light oil coating to protect it and enhance its sheen, and sewing together a voodoo doll of Lucifer stuffed with the downy feathers as the heart of the doll to make it all the more potent.
The man had his demons (hah) to battle, and he'd need to make the effort on his own... but if nothing else, he could dress and commune for this poppet for Lucifer, some semblance of promoting prosperity and protection. Hah. To think anyone would bother trying to protect the literal devil, and yet... it only made sense, now that Alastor was saying 'sha' whilst Lucifer was saying 'chér'. The project for tonight could occupy his time, occupy his mind as his body gobbled up his magicks to gradually build itself back up in every wound except his angelic wound.
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A quick check-in with Charlie was about twenty, before she was tagged in for a debate between Husk and Angel Dust, the latter of which needed some back-up. They headed off to animated conversation.
This left the King of Hell wandering without a word, aimlessly, for what felt like days. Because he looked for all the world like he was definitely on his way to something or was deep in thought, nobody saw fit to bother him.
On days like these, he preferred it.
But a man could also drive himself insane with boredom.
You're sick. Sick. Like. Me.
...Fucking Alastor. He scowled. HE wasn't sick. Everything just sucks, and some days sucked worse. By all accounts, he should give the fella a piece of his mind!
But he recalled the wound. It'd been... a month and a half? Two? And it still looked like that. It was clear that Adam had used a blessed weapon, and probably something dearest to him.
That stupid guitar. His 'panty-dropper'.
His own frustration happily blended with concern. Alastor was, by all accounts, a citizen in his realm, and lived under this roof. Shouldn't he do something to help? He could heal, he could...
Without realizing, he'd passed the turn to head down the stairs. He'd been making a beeline...
The king stopped, puffed his cheeks, and zipped back to the turn toward the staircase. He pressed himself against the wall.
Wait. He can't come off as desperate. As much as grabbing an arm and kissing up the length of it was soundly his style, there's-
Well-
It's-
Was it too soo-
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Jazz was buzzing over the radio even through the door, a small semblance of comfort for himself as he worked. In a steady loop, Alastor was needling the doll's eyes repetitively, securing the eye with layer after layer of black thread. Pins held in place makeshift clothing, meant to evoke the man's visage more strongly, give the spirits something more to work off of. So they knew who to assist, who to protect.
"You don't actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya?"
Alastor's lip curled, and his hands paused. In his hands was the doll he was working on. Glancing up, in his work cabinet, was a small collection of previous dolls made... Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty, Mimzy, Rosie, Husk.
...Even Sir Pentious. It'd been quite a hoot to pluck a scale off of the man and terrify him, and he'd never shown the doll he'd made save for one glimpse to terrify one of the egg minions, to cause a little chaos and spread a little paranoia. The doll still had veves pinned to it... the same ones that had been added to the others before the Extermination day, as well.
...It was useless, now.
"C'mon! I know you. You heartless. Son. of. a. bitch."
Alastor glared at the doll in his hand, feeling... sickened. Perhaps foul moods were contagious. He had been having a strange sort of fun being torn apart, being exposed and splayed out, but... what was he doing?
"Oh, FUCK you, Alastor! All you do is stand there, smiling, while you watch US struggle and fail! ...I don't know how you can enjoy all this suffering so much."
Yes, yes. He was the one that enjoyed seeing people fail, see their despair, see them fail over and over again. He joined the fight because he wanted to see more of it, to see the project continue, to see more people show up and fall into their vices over and over in a futile effort.
Yes... that had to be why. He was the Radio Demon. And the Radio Demon could have a bit of fun, dallying around with the devil himself, but that ring made it clear enough that it was a flight of fancy. Why was he bothering with this?
...Despite himself, despite his mood plummeting, he kept sewing. Taking out pins as they were no longer needed, too absorbed in his own itching healing and his own thoughts to feel the presence coming closer to the door's seal. Not that it was a seal that would keep anyone out sincerely.
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Lucifer straightened up and conjured his cane. He'll just keep it casual, quietly moving down the hall while peering over his shoulder in case of any peepers.
Just a little visit, if Al is in. Just a teeny-tiny, itty-bitty, eensy-weensy visit between two old chums who'vemadeoutafewtimes...
But first let's... hesitate at the door, give it a little touch. Why? He didn't know. Maybe it'd shock him or something.
Okay, asshole, why would it shock you?
DEEP BREATH. Let's try the door!
1/2
Ah... Lucifer at the door already. Why so soon? His wound wasn't that severe for a non-holy wound. Perhaps he was coming around to dig in the insult of a 'lesson'. Or worse... apologizing.
Eugh.
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With a flick of the wrist without standing up from his chair, Alastor dismissed the barrier and called through the door.
"You're welcome in, Lucifer, if Charlie's not with you~"
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Well, alright then!
"Whoopsie~ Charlie, sweetie, better climb in my pocket real quick. Ssh, ssh! He'll never know."
And he nudged the door open, stepped on in. Closed it behind him and patted his coat pocket.
"Ahem- ah... Hi."
...Great start.
"I made those phone calls. I think this next weekend should be fine... for... the date."
His eyelids fluttered. Pieces clicked together. Then he leaned against the door and hugged his arms around his chest, tucked both hands in tight, running his thumb over the gold band. He hadn't been... dating... in a while. A long, long while.
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"Oh, don't even think to apologize now, it's unbecoming," Alastor teased, leaning back and crossing his legs. "A week should be just fine to rest up," he added, clearly pointing it at Lucifer even if he was the one physically on the mend. His demon-inflicted wounds would be sealed up soon enough.
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A pause. Then, with a little grin, he preened his own chin. "You looked beautiful, Bambi."
His own eyelash flutter followed.
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"Nothing to feel guilt for. You have our dear Rosie to thank for selecting the vest - she's got more of the textile used so another can be made, since the first was destroyed in such a fun way."
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He'll just. Remember not to swallow the god-damned finger whole this time. Or stir with it.
But the king did a double-take. Then he frowned. "...Yeah, I figured you did that whole thing to rile me up! You're a cad! Also, I'm a builder, m'kay? If something's broken, I can put it back together, y'know."
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"Subject to your unholy fury and yet I am such a special pet, you'd never kill - hoh! What a thrill!"
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I mean, he wasn't wro-
Ooh. No. Nonononohohohuuu. Let's not fall for that!
"HA! So it DID get you in a good way!" He marched right over and grasped the back of the Sinner's chair. His wings opened and lifted him to compensate for the height difference.
"Go on. Tell me more."
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With a chuckle, he lifted the doll in his hand between them, wiggling the little arms. "With naught but words I had you doing exactly what I wanted. I became your obsession. Who wouldn't adore such a thing?" Always fond of being in the spotlight! Not seen by anybody, but perceived, enjoyed - he hated it with Vox, but he loved it from Lucifer. Lucifer who stopped when he asked, Lucifer who was older and more world-weary and has seen it all, Alastor was pulling his attention.
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"You have stoked my fury in ways very few ever could. This sounds like a do it again, Lucifer, pretty, pretty please..." Pardon him. He'll have a little nip of one of those ears.
With that appendage between his teeth, he blinked at the little doll.
"Ish that the thing? The-" He released the ear-
"What has my down in it?"
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"It sure is! The down is needed so the spirits know where to find you," he chuckled, amused. "Hair could have sufficed - hair is what I took from Charlie, after all, for hers."
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This was a nice thing done for Charlie.
"Heh... no pressure, right? I hope the spirits like me a little, at least."
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This was a nice distraction from frustrating thoughts. Lucifer was excitable, silly, curious - all appropriate traits. Alastor would reward him with a kiss on that pale white neck, cleaned of the blood he'd been soaked in earlier. The red blood looked good on Lucifer, like an elegant painting. But he also quite enjoyed the flush of gold under the skin when he could make Lucifer squirm - that was his favorite game.
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"Tri- tribute? Like what now...?" He'll get you back with the stroke of a finger along the shell of an ear. Whyyyy were they so soft, that's so unfair that they had to be so high up god damn it...
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"Food, drink, candles... there's a number of things pleasing to the Loa. Each of them has their own favorite, of course," he hummed, closing his eyes and enjoying the touch to his ears, since they were in the privacy of his room. He'd been ripped open, after all, no need to hide away his other minor vulnerabilities from Lucifer.
"Surely you've been given tribute from mortals? I can only imagine how many occultists and satanists have attempted to win your favor."
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The new position allowed him to stroke with fervor, but still so very gently.
"...O-oh, yeah, tons! Blood offerings from the wilder ones, whole lot of red wine, fruit..."
His face flattened. "Jars filled with... fluids... so I try not to really touch offerings in the last few hundred years, unless I can observe the offering being made and know it's not, ah. Iffy."
It softened as he thought. "Lotta snakes. But I'd like them kept alive, the cute little things. SO tired of them getting killed and offered up to me."
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"Lucky to get offerings - though Sinners certainly can pull some strings or some limbs to get a succubus to bring down animals from Earth, hoh hoh."
He glanced over past the wooden flooring, to the bog itself - still flush with blooms save for where the gators had been sliding on their bellies at the water shores. Though he couldn't claim he got the gators himself... they had been a gift. Ah, well. Alastor's grip tightened around Lucifer's waist - it's too bad Vox wasted their bond. Bastard, arrogant blowhard, complete asshole...
Smiling at Lucifer again, the deer gave him a gentle kiss. He definitely needed to practice kissing some more.
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Besides, that's an arm around the waist. He eased against him, but his hand lay against his chest very briefly before quickly shifting to the shoulder. Blink and you miss it.
The kiss was gentle and stirred the blood. Practice... ah... of course. Practice always made perfect. Lucifer lingered and brought that hand down from his ear to the back of his head. With a fond touch of deep red between his fingers, he eased into another kiss.
Such a surprise to see him initiate... who was he to refuse? He could help himself whenever he wanted...
"...Is that a request, Bambi...? Do you want offerings...?"
no subject
"Though if you intend to hand me flowers, mind that they'll have to be in a container or I ought to be wearing gloves! I've got a black thumb rather than a green one," he chuckled. Speaking of... "Did you ever find the black box I brought you earlier?"
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