ꁲ ꒒ ꁲ ꌚ ꋖ ꂦ ꌅ (
passimclamoribus) wrote2024-02-04 03:11 pm
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open rp
✦
OPEN RP
✖
I said that I would make this much cleaner and neater and now here we are.
Let me say thank you for stopping by and giving this journal a look over. This is a space to unwind and have a little bit of fun. If you want to thread something out, well then let's do just that. You can throw something my way and I'll just roll with what you give me. Or you can drop me a message if you want to plot something out.
Let's RP!
Let me say thank you for stopping by and giving this journal a look over. This is a space to unwind and have a little bit of fun. If you want to thread something out, well then let's do just that. You can throw something my way and I'll just roll with what you give me. Or you can drop me a message if you want to plot something out.
Let's RP!
btw i just got your username last night
Oh he is none too pleased to have the fallen angel at the hotel. It means that Alastor has lost a degree of control there that he so desperately needs. Sure, it's quite delightful to rile the King of Hell up and it alleviates some of the strain that Alastor feels regarding his personal situation. However, he dislikes that potential for Lucifer has to undermine Alastor and his own personal goals.
There's also the matter of hunger as of late. It had taken quite a considerable amount of energy to have sheilded the hotel for as long as he had. Even more to be able to recover proper. This leaves Alastor feeling rather famished in a way he hasn't acknowledged since coming to the hotel. Those loan sharks certainly hadn't tickled this particular fancy of his and his meals at the hotel hadn't been fresh. No one really approaches the topic of just what, exactly, Alastor elects to eat when he takes meals alone. Perhaps no one really wants to know the answer and the one time Vaggie had interrupted? That had been relatively tame.
Oh he knows that Charlie would disapprove if she had known what Alastor has been doing while also out on his "errands." It's so easy to fall back into old habits - just like riding a bike. Everything from the selection of a target to following them around. Leading them into a false sense of security - admittedly that is the challenge since most are quite content to give him a wide berth upon recognition. But to lead them into some alley and then the realization of what is to come.
The fear is what makes the flesh all the more delectable. A Sinner is a Sinner, tainted in some way that no one really understands. However, the warmth of their blood and how the heart still beats as teeth rip and tear through skin and bone. The sound of bones creaking before they snap and the screams that follow. Oh that makes it just as satisfying as if it had been while on Earth. If only Alastor could have savored it longer before hunger takes hold.
It's in the throes of that bloodlust, Alastor quite literally tearing the throat out of his victim that he's discovered. This is Hell. Violence of this nature happens every passing second and no one really bats an eye. And yet out of all people to actually stop and gawk, it would have to be none other than Lucifer.
That's certainly one way to kill the mood.
Alastor's smile grows tight. His form shifts into something smaller, less monstrous even though his antlers remain elongated. Side effect of attempting to savour a meal and all of that. ]
Goodness! To think that our mighty liege would mingle with the common people. How long has it been again?
[ Completely ignoring the question. And the way that the Sinner bleeding out is trying to crawl away. ]
lmao at least you got it!
Ugh. [ Lucifer grimaces, but still takes another couple steps closer, pointedly avoiding a few blood splatters. ] You've got a little something— here.
[ A quick finger wiggle towards the left side of his own mouth. Couldn't Alastor at least have the grace not to be a messy eater? ]
You know you saw me out yesterday! [ On another errand for Charlie. But that counts. It totally counts! Alastor has seen him touch what counts for grass in Hell, he doesn't have to sound so pompous about the Big Boss out here with the plebs. Even if that's exactly what it is. ] I can't believe you're doing this. Why are you doing this?
[ He also pays no attention to the poor victim trying to drag himself to safety. Towards Lucifer, for some unfathomable reason, as if he's going to be any help. ]
i laughed and groaned in equal parts
Not that it was moving very fast at the moment. Not that Lucifer really seemed to care about Alastor's meal beyond trying to figure out just why Alastor does anything. So, really, it's more about the Radio Demon than the meal below. ]
My most sincere apologies.
[ And in that regard? He is apologetic if only because of the blood and gore that covers his face. Only because that is evidence that not all is quite well. Yet with a sweep of a tongue over lip and teeth, Alastor seems to get most of it. Then he pulls out a napkin from nowhere to dab his chin. ]
I think it obvious why I am doing this, sir. Not all of us thrive off of pancakes and whatever else is conjured up at the hotel. Don't tell me you feel something for him?
[ Shadowy tendrils shoot out from behind Alastor. Grab onto his prey and slowly drags him back towards Alastor proper. Oh he's not done yet. ]
then my job here is done!
I feel put off my lunch! [ Yeah, a distinct unpleasant roiling of his stomach is going on here. Good thing it's been a while since breakfast, he only feels a little like gagging. Maybe finding some bleach and tossing it all over the scene until there's less viscera stinking the place up. ] I can't believe you're just going at him, you don't even know where he's been. What if he's diseased or something?
[ This is a sinner, after all! You can never tell what disgusting habits they've been up to! ]
And tgif
Overrated, really. ]
Really? I feel as though my appetite has only been stimulated further. Though this might also be due to an untimely interruption.
[ Lucifer. He means Lucifer - and there is an edge to his voice as he says it. He hates being interrupted during a meal.
Speaking of! The poor demon in question is still gurgling. Spitting and coughing up blood. Seems like the thing is trying to speak. Alastor tuts. ]
My, it seems that everyone around here lacks matters. Can’t you see that we are having a conversation? [ Those tendrils slip about the neck of the already dying demon. Alastor snaps his fingers and the tendrils squeeze. There’s a sickening accompanying snap of a neck. Breathing stops. The flailing and sounds stop. The appendages slip back into the shadows, leaving the dead weight where it is. ] Much better!
[ Now he turns back to Lucifer proper, manifesting that microphone cane and leaning forward on it. ]
Now where were we? Oh yes, diseases. Fret not, lest you forget where we are. Of course everything is diseased!
so, so tgif!!
I know this is Hell, but we have food that isn't diseased.
[ He prods at the still hand of the man with the tip of his cane. Yuck. Who knows what nastiness this demon was engaged in before he had the misfortune of running into Alastor? He lives with Angel Dust and Niffty, he knows what kinds of ick sinners can get into.
And speaking of food — real food: ]
And you can cook, so why are you out here eating it raw?
[ You know, like some unwashed savage. ]
no subject
[ The evidence of such laying right there. With Lucifer poking at it. Alastor uses the tip of his shoe to just. Push that cane away. Please, sir. That is still his meal. Hopefully. Maybe he might have to find something else since the freshness factor is deteriorating every passing moment.
The smile grows. Less stressed and tense, yes, but because he sees something. An opening. ]
Why yes I can. I'm flattered that you have taken note of this little fact.
[ Paying attention to him, hmmm? Well he probably thinks Alastor is going to poison everyone. Not his style but - ]
If I answer your question seriously, mind leaving me to it? I'm sure you want to be about your business just as much as I wish to be about mine.
no subject
He doesn't mind withdrawing the cane. Not like he needs to get whatever disease Alastor's so taken with on it and spread it around the hotel. ]
Only because everyone else who's made dinner has sent us all off to visit the porcelain goddess. [ Even his wonderful, dear Charlie's skills lie somewhere other than cooking. It's not like he's paying special attention to Alastor or anything. ] And fine, that sounds fair enough. It's not like I wanna stick around and watch you eat.
[ No, he could do without the memory of any more wet, crunching noises, thanks! ]
no subject
[ Which probably says a lot right there, huh? That Alastor would view both activities in such a way just barely scratches the surface of his lifestyle prior to death.
Since Lucifer is going to be agreeable, Alastor snaps his fingers. Those tentacles make another appearance, grabbing onto the body. Dissipating into shadow. Where he is moving it? Well who can say. Probably storing the corpse in some pocket dimension until he is clear of the fallen angel. ]
Imagine, if you will, that I should bring these sorts of meals back to the hotel. It would completely undermine everything dear Charlie wishes to accomplish not to mention who would even wish to go there if they thought the Radio Demon was going to prey on them? Why, I am only looking out for the hotel's best interests.
[ Which isn't a lie at all, though Alastor himself wouldn't really care. It's one of those 'pick your battles' situations. It's not worth the fuss that the Sinners and Charlie would kick up about it.
Though, at the moment, there are other reasons. Reasons that Lucifer doesn't need to be aware of. No one does. ]
So should I feel the need and a hell deer won't do, I make sure to go elsewhere.
no subject
Although he does understand the demon enough to be skeptical of his explanation. Okay, he's skeptical of everything Alastor does, but especially when it's couched as for someone else's benefit! Charlie, the hotel, it's all the same, and Lucifer knows better than to trust a sinner of Alastor's caliber with any of it. So maybe it's not a lie, but he has thoughts about it being the whole reason Alastor's doing this.
Lucifer makes the saner decision not to pry into that any more deeply unless he really needs to, though.
Instead, he gives the pool of blood a disgusted glance, then, with obvious irritation, waves his cane at Alastor. ]
Yeah, okay, you wanna chow down on some tasty fellow sinner where no one with delicate sensibilities will see. Still doesn't explain why you can't cook it before eating!
sure should have caught that double word. augh mobile tagging
[ So it more or less is about the hotel's reputation or whatever. Some of his amusement will disappear if people leave.
But the increase in needing to feed isn't going to be discussed. That is a truth that Alastor is going to keep to himself.
Or until someone else finds outLucifer is free to think what he wants. As long as the diminutive king doesn't press the issue, then Alastor can continue to be somewhat civil.Eyes flicker between Lucifer and the puddle of blood and some other pieces of flesh. Muscle. Bone. Hard to tell with it all covered in blood and splattered across the ground and alley walls. ]
I could, yes. Though, once more, imagine someone walking in on me if I did! They would begin to wonder if their meals contained flesh. I would have to rely on someone else's hospitality.
[ He grins. Fingers lace together behind his back. Alastor's shadow appears on the opposing wall. Grinning as if it has a life of its own. Which it kind of does. ]
That and the look of pure terror is far more satisfying this way.
i saw nothing
Anyway, Lucifer rolls his eyes at Alastor's answer, even makes sure to tilt his head so Alastor can see beneath the brim of his extremely dapper hat. And so the shadow can see it, too. He remains unimpressed. ]
Aaaand there it is. Coulda just said you like it better this way. [ A low, disgruntled grumble. But fine, part of him is glad Alastor's at least putting this much thought into maintaining the hotel's reputation. For Charlie's sake, of course. And if that happens to coincide with Alastor's meal preferences, well, whatever. He'll give it a pass. It's still absolutely revolting, he knows Alastor knows his way around a spice rack, but whatever! He doesn't have to live like this! ] Fine, fine, question answered, I don't know what I was expecting.
[ He lifts his hand and wiggles his fingers in an unenthusiastic wave. ]
Enjoy the rest of your meal, I guess.
bless u
Seeing the eyeroll does little to irritate Alastor. The shadow, however, may make an attempt to somehow knock that hat off and silently laugh. ]
Apologies, dear king. I would have thought that it didn't need said.
[ Consuming living flesh is only satisfying when it is still living. Though that doesn't mean he doesn't like a nicely cooked meal or that he is unwilling to do so for others. Maybe if he feels a particular craving he should just visit Rosie. She'd love to have Alastor for dinner once and a while no doubt.
Alastor's grin doesn't falter. At least that dodged some other questions. For now! ]
Splendid! I'll just finish up and return to the hotel post-haste!
[ Giving Lucifer a chance to say something else? Nope. Not happening. Because Alastor melts into the shadows, leaving the fallen angel to his own devices.
And set up for the next occurrence in the next tag]no subject
Lucifer avoids the hat-napping, but he does flick his fingers, sending his own shadow reaching up the wall, many-winged and looming— to pat Alastor's shadow on its hatless head. His shadow manages a single pat before Alastor and it vanish into a darker patch of shadow; a glance to his own shadow, the two exchanging a shrug, and Lucifer resolves to put Alastor — and his grisly dinner plans — out of his head entirely.
And it works! He does not think about Alastor cheerfully ripping out other demons' throats or tearing their hearts from their chests for a full three days. Nearly 72 hours, even! There's so much else to think about: Charlie, her well-intentioned but doomed to failure plan to teach sinners about hygiene, her more likely to succeed plan to institute weekly paid street cleaning duty, the dog-demon guest who brought in fleas and sparked the whole hygiene plan... Alastor doesn't so much as surface in his thoughts.
Except for all the times Alastor's directly in front of him. And when they're bickering. And when Charlie sends him a group photo that includes Alastor. And when—
Well. It's not Alastor eating a live sinner, he'll take it.
Which is of course why, when he heads out to a very different part of town to pick up some kind of welcome treat Charlie's ordered, he slaps a hand to his cheek and groans as he walks smack into another one of Alastor's feeding grounds.
Literally smack into it. He turns the corner, looking for the store entrance (okay, he may be slightly lost), and runs face first into the yelping body of a man held firmly in Alastor's grasp. By the throat. With his viscera hanging out, a spill of blood and chunky flesh and gore that ensures he'll be dying slowly and extremely painfully. ]
Oh, for fuck's sake. [ This time, his entire side is stained in shades of red. It's warm and lumpy and soaking through all his layers. Yeugh. ] Again?
no subject
After finishing his grisly dinner plans had been satiated, return to the hotel is next. For the next couple of days, his hunger is quelled and he can even return to his usual duties within the hotel. Those usually consist of being present with new arrivals, skipping out on little "rehabilitation" sessions, and generally whatever is needed. Of course there is unnerving people with his presence alone and being generally amused by the antics of the hotel residents.
And, well. Bickering with one King of Hell himself - primarily because it's too easy to ruffle those feathers. The reverse side of that is that Lucifer continues to get under Alastor's skin in return. Tit for tat with no clear victor. Sometimes he makes it a point to purposefully run into the fallen angel, just to see that expression sour. It fills him with no small amount of glee. One might say that he actually looks forward to those moments, but Alastor would never do so himself.
Until there's two distractions. The first and most prominent is the hunger creeping back in, making demands known. As he uses more of his power, the quicker it returns and the healing of angelic wounds is no small matter. Then the other is the presence of a new Sinner, a new guest. Alastor lingers in some of the common rooms and the foyer of the hotel a bit more then. Eyes watching from a distance,
Something to potentially deal with later. But for now -
His latest meal is a more recent arrival in Hell. Alastor can tell by scent alone. A young thing that had no clue who they were bumping into and trying to swindle themselves. Don't be mistaken. Alastor is not acting in self defense at all. He had allowed this young demon to think that he is the hunter and Alastor is the prey. At least until Alastor had sunk claw and fang into flesh and tore him open.
That's where Lucifer had seen fit to interrupt once more - Alastor's form nearly taking up the entire space, eyes a furious red dials with an inky backdrop. The stitches along his frame ( and corners of his mouth ) all but illuminating the immediate area. Heart in the palm of his hand, still somewhat attached to the body as organs begin to plop onto the ground with sickening wet smacks.
Upon discovery, the sound that Alastor makes is nothing less that ear-piercing radio static. The lights in the vicinity spark, crack and shatter in a cascade of sparks. Glass rains down around them, leaving the three encased by shadow.
Someone's not happy about being interrupted. Again. ]
no subject
Then he turns balefully to Alastor. Alastor, who's looming and glowing and making a truly ridiculous amount of fuss over nothing. So Lucifer's walked in on him eating again. It's not like he wants to be here, either! Or ever see this again! He's the one who should be throwing a childish tantrum about the whole thing! ]
Oh, get over it. [ The staticky growling, the whole bitch fit. It's not like Lucifer's even trying to take the near-corpse away or anything. ] What are you even doing all the way out here?
[ He holds up his blood-soaked sleeve and shakes it, sending droplets flying. Yuck. ]
no subject
Speaking is more... Through teeth than anything else. Glowing with each word. ]
Trying to avoid being seen, clearly. Something that you are rather keen to continue doing.
no subject
[ He rolls his eyes, but there's still something thoughtful to his expression. Yeah, he and Alastor get along about as well as oil and water, but this seems a little over the top for someone stumbling in on a meal. Is it because Alastor doesn't like anyone seeing him looking less than put together? This is a far cry from his usual spic and span mode of dress and his snooty air of nose-in-the-air better than thou ponce. Even when they're throwing words at each other, Alastor usually doesn't seem this worked up. There's just a certain edge to the way Alastor snaps his jaws and speaks right through gritted, razor sharp teeth that sends a serrated spark down Lucifer's spine.
Lucifer waves a dismissive hand — which coincidentally sends a wave of golden magic rippling along his coat, squeezing the blood out as it passes. ]
If you think I want to be stumbling across this once, let alone twice, you should get your head checked, make sure nothing got knocked loose during that battle.
[ The blood lingers in the air for a moment before dropping with a wet plop to the ground, where it runs up the slight incline of the concrete to rejoin the main puddle beneath Alastor's meal. ]
no subject
Ě̶͖͍̘̮̪̂̈́͛͑͋̆̅̈͝v̵̘͓͓͓̖̱͍̘͎̋̾̈̃ȇ̷̡̛͚͍͕͚̭̺̩̿́̆̆̕͘͝r̴̨̛̞̱̤̗͙͕̉̂̓̓ý̷̢̻̫̮̩̱̜̬̫̍̍t̷̢̠̖͈͔̺͇̪̺͈̮̥̘͇̬̀̈́͝ḫ̷̢̩̟͇̟̺̝̦͖͎͇̩̆ͅį̴͈̫̬͈̜̥͌̚͝ͅň̸͖͝ĝ̴͚̻̗̤̙̟̣͍̫̗̻̟̦̐̈́́̽̐́̎̉͆̒͝͠ ̶̛̼̺̟̙̱̳͓̰̺̈́̇̓͆̅͒͗̎̒͝͝ì̵̛̛͓̭̳̮̘̜̥̹̐̈́̋͊̿́̽͑̽́̊͝s̸̛̳͓̈́́̐̈́̏̐̈́̀̚͝ ̴̛̛̛͈̙̦͙̟͕̓̈̆̎̈́̀̔̋̎̊͌̕p̵̛̭͇̩͊̀̿͐ë̴̡̯͚̺̯̻͉̖̥͙̙̩̘͔́ȓ̴̢̪͙̏͋̓́̿͋̎f̴̡͕̰̖̜̺̮̘̩̞̫̼̠̎̇͒́̒̏͑̀̊̓̄͒̀e̴̡̻̤̖͇̒͐̒̄̇́͝c̶̨̛̳͗̈́̆̓̿t̶͖͌̔͝l̷̡̗̰̩̺̭̺̖͎̪̪͉̳̍͐͐̀͒̀̿̈́̎́̚͝ͅͅy̶̪͆̏͒̈́̎̾̄̇͊͠ ̴̘̟̩̮͒͑̄́̏̓̏͊̍͐͊͐́̋f̶̨̣͍͍͉͕͚̯̹̝̾͗̈̉̊̃̕͠ḯ̶͍͙̮̬̲͈̮͙͔̼̬̼̤̻̓̉ń̵̡̺̖̦̬̳̠͚̺̘͎̳͖̫̉̏̋͑̆̅̈̅͘͝͝ė̸̡̢̖̱̩͎͖͚̖̖͚̬̣̱̊̀͆̀̎̀͗͛͒͑̈́̾͜͠͝!̷̢̘̙͍̫̲̗̮̱̞̩̀̾͌̀̈́̂̑̿͠͝ ̷͙̙̗͕̌̀̅̾̐̚͠͝G̷̢̡̛̫̙͈̲̮̮̣̩̼ͅę̴̭̰́̈́̔͗̾̌̅̌́̂̃̂̒̂̚t̶̤͇̻̦̃͝ ̸̨̬̳͔͎̗̻͙̟̥̘̏͐̀̀͛̃͂͊͘͜ͅl̶͕̻̦̼͚̻̟̥̘̲̲͎̠͒̍͜͜ǫ̸̑̈́ͅs̷̨̢̬̦̠̞̞̿͛͜ͅţ̶̨̯͎̪͎̟̘̈́͑̒͛́̒̓̔̉̓̽͘,̶̛͛̂̽̄̍̏͑̕ͅ ̴̹͘͠ȳ̶͉̯̹̥̫͔̩̖̖̱̌̾̂͗̊͆̆̌̆͠ͅò̶̡̒͝ṳ̴̗̻̀͐͋͌ ̶̪̟̟̣̗̣̼̹̟͍̠͂͗͒̀̇̔͒͆̿̐́̃̔͘͜͝w̸̳̮̪͖̥͖͉͇͙̯̰͌͗̅͂͋̽͆̌̉͜͝ė̵̡͓ř̵̳͖̿̾̐̂̒̋͑̃͗͗͘͜e̴̡̨̻͔̻̳̰̭̤̗̟͇̪̬̔̓̀͌͜n̸̙̞̻͖͎̺̰̘̰̣̒̒̓́̊̈́̋͐͊̉͂͝'̸̧̢̳̤̠̅͌̔̄͒̒̋̓͛̚͠ͅt̷͕͓̬̘̏̌̎́̾̔̾̀̎̓͜͝ ̸̡̛̛̠̖͚͙̮̥̈́̎͆̔͛̈́̽̃̓̔̃̅̚ĭ̷̧̢̼̼͍̮̯̝̳̬̺̎͊n̴̤͙̹̦̘̬͍̙̖̠̞̼͎̯͚̂̍v̴̛͂̌͊͜͝i̵͚̦͛̽̒̚t̸̨͖͛͊́̐̾̑͂̌̎̕͠͝ȩ̶̗̪͍͍̝͚̭̻̖͉͉̗̬̽̋̈́̑̋ď̸̨̨͕͍̯͚̹̻̬̤̼͕̖̅̈͐͝!̵̧̱̥̱̥̗͔̠̜̮̱͂͜
[ He's not weak. Yet the injury that he had endured doesn't heal like it should. Alastor might have been able to take on Adam if he could have actually have utilized his full potential but he is stunted. Restricted! All of this nonsense just because he is under a contract that binds him far more tightly than he would have thought.
Him. The Radio Demon. Alastor, who has a reputation to never deal with because of his terms. Yet he is in this condition because of the very thing that he takes pride in!
And all he wants to do.
Is fucking.
Eat. ]
no subject
[ Not the reaction Lucifer had expected. He'd pictured something more like their usual sniping, a pointed back and forth. Not the shadows nipping at his heels like they want to sink their claws in and devour him. Not the acrid glow of Alastor's magic in a display they both know means absolutely nothing when it's up against Lucifer's angelic might. And certainly not Alastor snarling in his face, no trace of his iron-clad control and composure to be found.
There's enough power in Alastor's words to send his coat flapping in the currents of rage. Still not intimidating, but it does make something low in Lucifer's gut twinge, a little furl of heat that snakes up his spine. Exactly how hard is it to get Alastor to lose his cool like this? How hard would it be to do it again?
Absently, Lucifer waves away a few of the sickly sigils that're floating too close to his face — bats at them and sends them floating on their way back towards their source without even a sting. ]
I know you're not actually an idiot, but it feels like I've gotta put it out in the open here, bud. That does a real great job of making me think everything's the complete opposite of perfectly fine.
[ In a low drawl, not quite mocking, not quite on the side of amused, either. ]
1/2
Maybe that should be his prey instead. There must be so much power lurking under there and oh how Alastor laments the fact that he hadn't been able to tear one of those exorcist angels open with fang and claw. Yet there is one that rises above them all standing right there. Just right there. Certainly power like that would set things right. Make everything knit itself back together and then leave some to still sing in his veins.
The thought of it makes Alastor's mouth water. Thus does he hover above Lucifer. Towering, as if to cage the other in by his size alone. Black drips from the edges of his mouth. Down lips and jaw, falling and landing against the ground. Barely audible.
Though the single wet splat of red doesn't come from his jaws. Doesn't come from the bloody scene around them. But from Alastor himself.
And - ]
i lied 2/3
This isn't something that he wants known, exposed. Certainly not to the Devil himself. There comes a huff, meant to blow off that ridiculous hat on the king's head.
And Alastor doubles back. Shrinks back down to his usual size. He will not give the other the satisfaction of knowing just how closely his words ring true. ]
no subject
You are correct! How unseemly of me. I have been discrete for almost a century when it comes to this particular idiosyncrasy of mine and yet you've found me twice.
How embarrassing!
[ There's still an edge to Alastor's voice. Like it would only take a little bit of a push to send him over that cliff into the abyss. The shadows have all but disappeared at this point, save for Alastor's. That particular shadow seems to be grabbing onto the Radio Demon.
It's the only telltale sign that Alastor has every intention of disappearing. ]
no subject
He's not, because of the viscous drip of liquid that falls onto Lucifer's cheek. Before he even touches it, Lucifer knows what it is, warm and iron-tinged. Lucifer catches his hat before it can drift more than a couple inches from his head and resettles it. Then he wipes the liquid away, glances at the red on his hand for only a moment. Only a formality with the scent of Alastor's blood and the damp-earth smell of Alastor's power heavy around him.
And the way Alastor reacts to that drip of blood. Well. Things aren't fine. They're much less fine than Alastor would have him believe, if this much posturing is enough to have him bleeding all over his would-be-prey. Showing weakness.
It's fascinating, the way Alastor retreats back into this facade of propriety. As though he isn't the more ravenous of the beasts between the two of them. As though they both don't know.
Lucifer's lips curl up at the corners. He takes longer than he needs to as he licks the smear of Alastor's blood from his fingers.
And then he turns on his heel, presenting Alastor with his back. Offers a cheery little wave over his shoulder. ]
Well, I wouldn't want to embarrass you any more! Enjoy the rest of your meal.
1/2
save for probably Huskhas. Some true insight towards Alastor's recent behaviors. No. Things are not all right. They are very much not all right.But the thing is? Alastor doesn't have to acknowledge it. Shockingly, Lucifer doesn't rub it in his face. Not too much anyway. Less than the Radio Demon had anticipated.
And what... What is that Alastor had caught from the corner of his eye? Had he just... Really? Really?
For a moment, before he recedes into the shadows, Alastor doesn't know what to think or feel about that. Only that, well. There's certainly something. ]
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i lied 2/3
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