passimclamoribus

[ Charlie, dear, sweet, wonderful Charlie, is overreacting. Sure, the angels have finally wisened up to the fact that if they want to make headway in their battle against Hell, first target the Hazbin Hotel, they need to take out Lucifer. He's the big guns, the go-to guy, the stalwart angelic ass-kicker. Six wings of pure, concentrated protective dad power. Even if he let an inconvenient thing like mercy get in the way of offing Adam, Niffty's little stabfest was only possible after he took the original dick himself out.

Sure, maybe Heaven's started sending gank squads instead of an army. And sure, the few times they do send larger numbers, it's all in the hopes of overwhelming Lucifer with sheer body count. And okay, the attempts to shiv him have been ramping up with nastier and nastier little tools in the hands of the angels stalking through Hell's streets. Maybe even some of the demons, with the way Heaven's put out a price on his head. They really don't get subtlety. But none of that matters, because Lucifer's still the hottest of hot shit in the sphere. It'll take significantly more than that for him to even break a sweat swatting away the flies buzzing around.

Charlie's worrying over nothing. There's absolutely no reason, as sweet as it is, for her to think he needs someone keeping an eye out for him. And definitely no reason for her to ask Alastor of all people to do it! Anyone else! Anyone would have been better.

When she asked Alastor out there for all and sundry to witness, all big, earnest eyes and wringing hands, her voice soft with worry — Lucifer couldn't even put up more than a halfhearted protest in the face of her concern.

(His daughter! His daughter cares if he's around! Charlie doesn't want him to die or be stabbed! His daughter also has terribly misplaced faith and, much as he hates to see any imperfection in her, taste in friends.)

And Alastor's delighted, sneering grin— well, that's not the worst of it. No, the worst of it is how thoroughly, infuriatingly dedicated Alastor's devoted himself to the cause.

Take now, for example. It's just the hotel staff and residents at an informal dinner, the motley group gathered on the couches in the lobby as they chat. Lucifer is having a perfectly nice time. Of course it's a little awkward, but he's mostly settled in and only feels the occasional urge to flee back to his workshop for some alone time tinkering with his ducks. Or, it was perfectly nice before Alastor situated himself directly to Lucifer's right (why), bent his head down over Lucifer's bowl of soup (why??), and, catching up to the current actions of the stain upon Lucifer's very existence, starts gently blowing across the steaming surface (WHY). ]

Hey! [ He flails his arms, then starts trying to elbow Alastor away. ] Did you catch something? Are you trying to give me the plague?

[ Alastor hadn't been there to see Adam's downfall. More's the pity, he would have liked to have been the cause. Instead he had been required to flee. To run. Like a wounded animal. Like prey. If he hadn't been under the -

It is what it is. Alastor had spent his time recovering. Hiding. A wounded Overlord is an Overlord at risk and who wouldn't want to try their hand at it? At the very least he had returned and look at that. The little group well and truly thought that he'd be back. It just touches his heart so. At least it had until he had also realize that it meant Lucifer would be nearby. Constantly.

Which is both good and bad. Good in the sense that Alastor can mercilessly tease the small, fallen angel. The bad is that the very same can tease him. Not many people can get Alastor worked up but Lucifer surely can. That's when it happens, of course. Charlie. Dearest darling Charlie. Worried and panicked Charlie about her father. While that is a taste in his mouth he dislikes, having her approach him in the middle of the foyer - begging - had make his grin sharp and wide. What an opportunity there is to be had. A way to endear himself to Charlie further while also being overbearing to the king of Hell himself.

In fact, Alastor even agrees. Deal free. And oh what a good job he'll do. Only the very best job. Barely ever leaves Lucifer's side, really. Has he fended off some attacks? Sure has. Made sure that areas are safe and secure? Certainly! All with that ever present smile. Just like now, Alastor bringing some food for everyone - an old recipe from home - and now invading personal space. ]

Catch something? Heavens no! It wouldn't do to have you burn that little tongue of yours. No, that wouldn't do at all.

[ And his smile is only a little tight at being elbowed. ]

You can never be too careful, I say.

[ He can't help the way his eye twitches as Alastor remarks on the size of his tongue. Ha ha, always with the short jokes! Repeated exposure has only somehow made them more grating. Much like Alastor himself. Incredible! Who knew it was possible for the most obnoxious demon in Hell to become even more obnoxious?

Even as he continues his vain attempt to shove Alastor out of his personal space, Lucifer gives serious consideration to dunking the demon's head directly in the bowl of soup.

Regretfully, he decides it's not worth the disappointed look Charlie would give him. ]

Great, go be careful somewhere else! [ He leans a bit more weight into the elbowing, for all the good it does. ] Don't you have other things to do besides ruin a perfectly good bowl of soup?

[ Oh he does get no small amount of enjoyment seeing the eye twitch and a lip turn downward. This arrangement is working out quite well in that regard. Being a perpetual thorn in someone else's side is definitely not a poor coping mechanism. No, not at all.

The best part is that he's sitting there with a smile and has been minding his manners. Mostly. But since Lucifer seems to want to dig that elbow in more, then Alastor will just make a slight adjustment where his own cane rests.

As in press the end of it down hard on his "charge's" boot. ]

No can do. We both agreed to adhere to the whims of our favorite rising star, didn't we? Now you are my primary responsibility! Isn't it grand you get my -

[ The tone of his voice drops. More static than usual filters through as he speaks just two. Little. Words: ]

Undivided attention?

Ow!

[ No, Lucifer is not above yelping when someone digs a hard, probably-metal object directly into his toes. It does get him to stop the elbowing, which means Alastor is free to lean right into the very heart of his personal space while Lucifer tries to bat the cane away. He's so distracted by the process of rescuing his toes that he doesn't quite notice how close his face is getting to Alastor's.

Until he looks back up and sees they're nearly nose to nose, with Alastor all but hissing those two deeply unnerving words at him, static buzzing in Lucifer's ears.

Lucifer shoves in closer and grumbles: ]

I don't want your attention! And I thought you were supposed to keep me from getting hurt, not injure me yourself.

[ Well Alastor is not going to be the one to back down first. Thus will he stay put. Right in the very king of Hell's face. ]

You sure work hard at keeping it.

[ His attention, that is. Though, really, Alastor is just as bad. Apparently neither one of them can keep from snipping at each other the moment the other enters the room.

The next sentence just has him raising a brow. ]

Are you suggesting that little old me has the potential to harm you? If you can be hurt by a little nudge, then you truly are in need of my assistance.

I could be God themself and I wouldn't want someone crushing my foot!

[ He's just gonna ignore that first comment. Because it's true. It's too true and he's not thinking about it. Not thinking about how Alastor gets under his skin and the very sight of the man makes him want to strangle him, and how Alastor is so frustratingly infuriating and— and oh look, he is thinking about it! How can he not when his perfectly good bowl of soup has been contaminated with sinner vibes. Yuck!

You know what, there's a great way to make his point. A little childish, maybe, but when it comes to Alastor, nothing is out of line!

He jabs his cane into Alastor's boot. Haha, take that, sucker. ]

[ A perfectly good bowl of soup that Alastor himself would have made. Therefore already contaminated! Technically.

Hopefully there's not much of an audience. If there is, they are entirely forgotten. That tends to happen when Alastor is around Lucifer - he forgets himself and that there could be others present. Now that's something Alastor cannot and will not dwell on. Nope. Not looking at that any further.

Instead there's a brief screech of static at his own foot being jabbed. The only visual action being his eyes going wide and his grin turning sharper. ]

Well neither would they like it if someone were jabbing them with a tiny, boney elbow.

[ Since Lucifer wants to call him out? Alastor will do the same thing. ]

Edited (there's a difference between bony and boney i guess!) 2024-02-20 04:52 (UTC)

[ Look, sometimes a guy just has to not think about things in order to get through the day! Which is impossible when the dude contaminating the soup is blowing on it right in front of you! And everyone's seen him do it, because yeah, the whole crew is here for staff dinner night (Lucifer refused to allow family dinner night). They've all been sharing around a bucket of popcorn since the blowing on soup started.

Which Lucifer is also not thinking about.

Mostly because he's too busy reveling in that smug satisfaction as his attack on Alastor's foot elicits an audible reaction. (And not thinking about why he's so smug about getting a reaction. Nope. Nope, nope, nope!) Ha HA, how do you like it now, asshole?

Probably the same as he likes Lucifer elbowing him, which he only refrains from starting up again because he can lift his arm and show off the guns — er, sharp, pointy elbow-shaped weapon of war — complete with a conjured burst of sparkles for backdrop. ]

Your short joke is falling flat. The small, sharp elbow does way more damage. [ So, so smug about that. ] And I wouldn't have had to do that if you weren't being ridiculous over my soup!

[ Poor Charlie likely doesn't know what to do about them. ]

I suppose you would be the expert in that area. [ Falling flat, that is. Ouch. But he started this! And Alastor is going to ~~attempt to~~ finish it. Augh he hates that smug expression so much. It sparks a different level of aggression in Alastor that he is not thinking about either. ] Though really aren't we overreacting just a bit?

[ Alastor holds up his hands. Wiggles his fingers. ]

You act as though my hands were not all over it to begin with!

At least I had somewhere to fall from. And still ended up at the top of the heap.

[ What's that saying? "Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven." Don't make him bring out the wings for this argument, Alastor! Because he will. He'll bring them all out. Even the halo if he has to!

Which is to say the smug expression hasn't disappeared. It hasn't even flickered. Over in the audience section of the room, bets are being made. Bets about what? Better not to ask. ]

And what, were you making a point to huff into the pot while you were cooking? [ A beat as he realizes it could be worse. ] Oh unholy Hells, did you spit in the pot?

[ Since that smug look isn't going anywhere, Alastor is going to take matters into his own hands. Quite literally. As Lucifer continues to be a smug little bitch, the Radio Demon has aspoon into the very soup that they seem to be arguing over.

And then, when the opportunity presents itself? He grabs at Lucifer's jaw and pops the spoonful right into the king of Hell's mouth. ]

I would never do anything to spoil the flavour profile of a meal. Those kinds of insults won't be tolerated here.

[ Implying that despite how agitated he can get, there's a line not to cross? At least he does have a limit or a standard. ]

As for being on top of the heap, that's not much of an accomplishment since you're more powerful by default. At least the rest of us have earned our stations.

[ What. What. Lucifer's no Vox, but he's certainly experience a BSOD. With his jaw held firmly in Alastor's hand and a spoonful of soup shoved into his mouth, he has no choice but to freeze up, deer in headlights, before the sheer mind-blanking force of his outrage wears off. He glares at Alastor, doing his very best to murder the demon with sheer will. It doesn't work, and he finally has to give in and swallow.

Fuck his immortal life, the soup's actually good. ]

You earned it. By being more powerful than the rest of the rabble. [ Mumbled around the spoon, but still flatly. And ignoring how he wants more soup. ] Isn't that the pot calling?

[ He has no problem admitting that Alastor's powerful — for an overlord. And damnit, he really wants more soup. ]

[ His grin shifts to something more relaxed, entertained. Lucifer struggling to accept just a mouthful before deciding that he's just going to give in. Yes, be a good little angel and just accept what is being given. The entire reaction is just too delightful and Alastor taps his fingers against that jaw.

No, he hasn't let go. ]

I should feel a little insulted. To think that you believe power is the only thing required of an Overlord. As if one can rise to that status on such a thing alone.

[ What a sight this must actually be. He's pretty sure by now the other staff are a little unsettled by the sight of Alastor feeding the King of Hell. Which is exactly what Alastor is doing, by getting another spoonful and shoving it into the other's mouth yet again.

Only because of that glare and the lack of addressing what the Radio Demon is doing. Pushing the proverbial envelope much? ]

It takes an incredible amount of skill, I'll have you know. Tenacity. A clever mind and the means to maintain control, be it through fear or charisma or some other quality.

[ The thing about swallowing the soup means his mouth is now free for other things. Like snapping at Alastor's fingers, as awkward as the gesture is when his jaw is still being firmly held. Lucifer still puts in a valiant effort at it, only thwarted by the way Alastor goes right ahead and shoves another hot spoonful of soup in.

Fuck. It's still delicious.

Sulkily, Lucifer swallows this mouthful. And snaps the spoon clean through with a sudden clench of his jaw. At least he doesn't eat it, just spits it out to land on the table. Not that he couldn't, seraphim are omnivorous, but he doesn't really enjoy the taste of metal. ]

Yuh huh. And now you're putting all that skill and cleverness and tenacity to making sure I don't get any booboos.

[ He is not going to pay ANY attention to the gaping on the other side of the table. ]

[ Yes, yes. Just eat what you have been given. Alastor is also ignoring anyone that could be staring. Charlie is likely looking worried and Vaggie glaring daggers at them both. At the same time no one thinks to interrupt.

Probably better that way.

Alastor himself just looks at the spoon that has been bitten in half. Rolls his eyes. He decides to squish those cheeks. ]

Yes, I am. There would be many a soul that would take advantage of that little fact. Alas, here I am wondering who taught you manners. Such unbecoming behavior, sire.

[ Now he removes his hand and picks up that bowl of soup. ]

Since you are unappreciative, maybe I should just take this away.

[ There's a brief second of blankness, Lucifer's expression freezing into a shocked rictus, as it registers — Alastor is squishing his cheeks. Alastor is squishing his cheeks like he's some adorable pet that's performed a neat trick, and Lucifer hasn't the faintest idea of what to do about that. The surprise vanishes in the next moment; he just lets it happen. Letting on that he's surprised, that the sudden and prolonged contact is a bit disquieting, well. That would be letting Alastor win.

Ha ha, as if!

So okay, the cheek squish is permitted. Just another normal day in Hell, the bane of his existence casually pinching his cheek. No, there's nothing to see here! ]

Hey now, let's not be hasty. [ His hand snaps out, closing around Alastor's wrist before he can move to take the soup any further away. ] Although for your info, no one did. You might have noticed that Heaven's not real big on that.

[ He put up with cheek squishing without flattening Alastor into a wall, he deserves that soup! ]

[ Angel is about to open his mouth and say something. Husk very wisely slaps a hand over the spider's mouth.

Honestly, Alastor doesn't even realize that he's squished those cheeks on a whim. Even more shocking is the fact that Lucifer grabs at a wrist and the Radio Demon doesn't just up and dump the soup on the angel's head. Instead there is a pause. A raise of a brow.

A grin that is reminiscent of a smirk. ]

Yes, I know. That was the point. The irony that angels aren't taught manners yet still think they are better than everyone else.

[ A beat as Lucifer considers that point. And then, the strangest thing happens. So strange that Husk forgets to keep his hand over Angel's mouth in favor of joing Angel in gaping at the tableau playing out in front of them.

Lucifer laughs. He tilts his head, mouth creasing in a smile, and laughs. ]

Ha— Sure, manners don't actually make a guy better, but those assholes really are going around preaching with their noses in the air all holier-than-thou.

[ Is he an angel? Yeah, of course, by a technicality. But it is funny. He's always willing to engage in a little postmortem dunking on Adam and the rest of Heaven. ]

Respectfully, Sire, I disagree. Manners are an essential part of one's upbringing. Without them we are but slaves to instinct and irrationality.

[ And something else happens. Something else that is strange. Alastor is sliding the bowl back down in front of Lucifer. With a snap of fingers - from the hand attached to the wrist that Lucifer isn't holding - the spoon fixes itself. It floats right back towards the soup as Alastor wiggles his fingers. ]

Manners are an important tool and skillset to be utilized.

[ Is this a trick? Some kind of trap? Alastor's actually setting the delicious (if tainted) soup down in front of him again. Well, whatever. Lucifer lets go of Alastor's wrist in favor of snatching the spoon out of the air. No way he's gonna risk even a chance of Alastor trying to feed him again. ]

Eh. [ He scoops up some soup. ] I've met guys with the prettiest manners you'd ever see and they were nastier than Adam's mouth on a weeknight out.

[ Yum, soup. ]

[ Alastor very much isn't eating anything. Very rarely does he do so in the presence of others. Besides, he's had his cooking for ages. At least for now, he's content to leave Lucifer be, humming. ]

That's why they are so important! What better way to hide one's true nature? It certainly works towards keeping people guessing.

[ He should know. Alastor managed to ensnare his victims this way. A gentleman like a spider attracting a fly into the trap. ]

[ Lucifer does pause before taking another sip of soup. Sometimes, the worst person you know makes a valid point. ]

Okay, I'll give you that one. [ He can't expound upon how Alastor's clearly using his so-called manners as camoflage for how the whole bodyguard shtick is clearly only cover for annoying the ever-living crap out of Lucifer with Charlie right there listening, but they both know it's the case. ] You could try being a little more straightforward sometimes, though. It does wonders.

[ Ha, as if he thinks there's a chance of that ever happening. Alastor's twisty little mind probably doesn't know how to do straightforward. ]

[ That's very true. He is using his manners as a sort of mask, but he does actually value them. Being boorish and a brute is just so boring. Underwhelming.

Alastor then raises a brow. Lucifer conceding that point? Will wonders never cease! Though the comment about being straightforward has him humming and looking away, thoughtful. ]

If you would think to ask something with sincerity, perhaps I might answer in kind.

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luci pls

:)

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