open rp

[passimclamoribus]

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OPEN RP

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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!

❤

Comments

[lamentapple]

[ As the throng of give-me's conveniently thins, Lucifer looks around for the reason. He doesn't see Alastor and his whatever — must've gone to a room in the back when he was busy with the crowd. His eyes stop on the hulking monstrosity of the shadow spread across the wall and stretching the floor. Even with a lack of a third dimension, it's very obviously hunching over him, glowering and growling — almost protectively, Lucifer might have said, if the shadow belonged to anyone but Alastor. Huh. So Alastor's shadow is useful after all. Certainly more useful than the man himself. He won't complain about having a companion without compunctions in clearing away the crowd. Already, Lucifer's feeling his shoulders relax, his breath coming a little easier. He hadn't even noticed how tense he'd become until there's only him and the shadow left in a wide ring marked out by its grasping, razor claws.

He can't figure out why the shadow has decided to lend a hand. Why Alastor would, for all that the shadow often seems like it has a mind of its own. The reason certainly isn't out of the goodness of Alastor's rotted, dead heart, and try as he might, nothing else comes to mind. Lucifer's about to try asking the shadow when that nails on chalkboard scream interrupts him — and makes the reason exceedingly clear.

As soon as he sees the bite taken right out of the demon's side, Lucifer knows what's happening. This is just dinner. Dinner and a show, though, very deliberately. Well, when offered the evening's entertainment, who is he to turn it down?

A wave of his hand and Lucifer has one of those fruity drinks with the little umbrellas that he likes so much. He kicks back in his chair and sips as the melodrama plays out. It's all very exciting. Excellent effect, that whole gaggle of chains even if Lucifer finds the whole contracting souls deal gauche. He'll give Alastor his due, the man does know how to stage a scene.

The question really is why. Why the production? The shadow isn't any help, too busy cackling where it's still being his now considerably littler buddy.

There's no doubt Alastor could have kept the whole thing from playing out. He hasn't had any trouble with his previous entrees escaping, let alone going to the trouble of making sure there was a clear warning for someone to see. That someone isn't him, for all that Alastor's shadow made sure he had a front row seat.

He glances at the shadow. Swirls the umbrella in his cocktail before tapping it against the glass, dropping it on the table, and downing the rest of his drink. The glass clicks as he sets it on the table and stands. ]

I take it you're the invitation to the private part of the show.

[ Not a question. There's no other reason for the shadow to still be with him — and Alastor wouldn't have gone to the trouble of making sure he could see the first half if he didn't want Lucifer at the second. For some reason. For once, Lucifer finds himself more curious than dreading what he'll see as he walks with the shadow through the parting crowd — nice touch, that — and follows the trail of blood into the room where Alastor's waiting. ]

[passimclamoribus]

[ The statement, for that's clearly what it is, makes the shadow cease its movements. It tilts its head to the side. Then to the next, as though it doesn't understand or maybe it is considering. It then glances towards the door, as if seeking something. Confirmation. Permission.

And then it does, indeed, glide along the floor to lead Lucifer towards the room. Really it's through the door and down a hallway and then through another door.

Alastor is within, though he has taken a seat onto a couch. Cane against the wood and his hands crossed, resting upon the top of it. ]

Well well! It would seem that we have an important guest joining us!

[ His gaze shifts towards the opposing wall. There, that Sinner is strung up by Alastor's shadows. One tendril about the throat. others have attached themselves to limbs, pulling the thing rather taunt as it bleeds. ]

We were just about to get started.

[lamentapple]

[ What, was this not an invitation already offered? Had Alastor — and by extension the shadow — not considered that Lucifer would stick around? Just makes the whole damn thing even more bizarre. Why put on a show and make sure Lucifer sees it if he didn't want that?

Oh well. He's back stage so to speak anyway, no more time to puzzle over it. With a wave of his hand, Lucifer's got another of his favored fruity drinks. Unlike out in the main room, there's no condensation on it. Back here it feels strangely cold. Another thing Lucifer doesn't think too much about as he takes a seat beside Alastor. Because there are no other seats unless he wants to sit on the floor.

It is very, very obvious what these rooms are meant to be for.

But apparently tonight it's a spot of murder. Lucifer spares the strung-up sinner a glance but he doesn't really care that much, not after what Alastor said during the show. ]

Didn't think I'd get the VIP treatment. [ He's still not sure what to feel about that. Or why he got the special attention. But since he has, he stretches out more comfortable and takes a long sip of his drink. ] Who was all this for, anyway?

[ Who the show was for, who sent the spy. If not for that latter part, he really wouldn't care. ]

[passimclamoribus]

[ Some of what goes on in the back rooms have always been handled with far more discretion during Alastor's time. It's one of the reasons that he had picked the location. Well that and it does belong to a couple that had made a deal with him and had been rather pleased with the results.

His eyes trail towards Lucifer, still black and red rather than their usual hue. He leans back further, posture stiff. There's a hum as the king takes a seat and then his attention turns towards the petrified Sinner on the wall. ]

No one of any significance. It was merely time I showed this one's owner here that I don't appreciate little spies being sent to the hotel. Be it screens or fiends, I will not tolerate it any longer.

[ Now he hasn't done anything spectacular yet. Just. Grinning - though his jaw is tighter and Alastor himself is tense. Even his breathing seems to be even, purposefully measured. ]

I'd devour this one whole if they didn't taste so horrid.

[lamentapple]

[ No one of any significance. Lucifer doesn't particularly feel like prying; this stinks too much like Overlord business, and that's the last thing he wants to stick his nose into. He's more curious about how tightly wound Alastor seems. It can't be because of Lucifer's presence. He did get an invite, after all, even if it wasn't planned. Alastor's had no trouble telling him to kindly fuck off before, he has no doubt Alastor would do it again if he objected to Lucifer's presence here.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Well, don't let it be said Lucifer is an inattentive guest. Before anything else, he conjures up another fruity umbrella drink — unlike his own, this one is mellower, less sugar sweet and more smouldering spice: apple cider and cardamom, a hint of burning leaves, and a dark, smooth liquer. The drink gets handed off to Alastor with a showy little flourish. ]

Huh. So he's just your before dinner entertainment?

[ Alastor goes around eating sinners raw — what makes this one different from his previous meals to the point he's not going to do more than bite a bloody chunk out of his side? ]

[passimclamoribus]

[ For a moment, Alastor looks between Lucifer and the proffered drink. It's as though he is trying to figure something out himself. Now he doesn't think that the king would poison him. In reality, Lucifer isn't much for violence and bloodshed unless he's invested.

Alastor takes it, deciding that maybe the alcohol will numb the fact that his chest is burning. Aching. ]

He's been reduced to just that, yes. Though proving to be less and less entertaining with how easy it all was. Little fool genuinely believed that he had lured me in. With that personality? Laughable.

[ Just to reinforce that point, he's snickering. Then Alastor elects to take a drink out of the glass and is pleased to find it is not sweet. That makes it more than tolerable as he allows for the taste to settle. Better than that Sinner anyway. He holds the glass against his chest to hide the fact that he is trying to be discrete. ]

Now what to do, what to do. Do we just leave an arm on his master's doorstep? A head?

[ A grin ]


Ǫ̶̹̉̑͆̐̒ȑ̴̰̀̕ ̷̩̯͔̖̻̈́̎͘͜j̷̤̯̥̏̒u̶͎͗͆͊̑̒ś̵͕̃͊͝ť̶̗̫͌͂͗̈́͆ ̶̠̟̄̈́̚̕t̵̯̙̙͑̕̕͘h̷̩̙̙̦͒ë̸̛̗́̉͋̐̈́ ̷͈̦͎̼͙̉b̴̛̮̻̈l̶̞̯̑̈͋͗ö̶̧̭͋̾̕ǒ̸͓̫̭̳̱͍̂d̶͚̒́́̀́ȳ̷͍̼͘ ̸̢̘̼̙̺̎̿̌͊͘͝ṫ̷̡̹͔̜͚̟̈́͘͘ô̴͔͓r̷̨͉̗͈̣͂͊͐̕͜s̵͗ͅơ̸͎̩̻͒͑̀̊ͅ?̸̠̰̟̘̇͐͂̋̂͛͜

[lamentapple]

It's hard to believe anyone would think you'd actually act like that.

[ So dry the air goes a little thinner. Lucifer takes a slow sip of his own drink to hide his smile, pleased with himself at guessing a drink Alastor would actually enjoy. Ha, he's not as inscrutable as he'd like to think! The brief moment of smugness vanishes as Alastor lays out his potential plans for the rest of the evening. Which, fine, he gets this is Alastor's idea of a good time even if it's not to Lucifer's taste. He's still not sure why he was invited along.

Oh well. Before they move on to that part of the evening, there's one last thing he has to do. Lucifer leans in to smile at Alastor from up close, wide and nearly guileless. ]

Before you turn him into a torso, I have a question. [ He sets his drink down, a quiet thunk of punctuation. ] What exactly did this spy intend to do at the hotel? [ An ominous pause; Lucifer's smile grows a little toothier. ] Was it something to do with Charlie?

[passimclamoribus]

[ He raises a brow at the statement. Alastor understands where it is coming from and yet he can't help but feel somewhat offended. ]

I'll have you know, I was quite the charmer when I was alive. My modus operandi might have changed slightly upon finding myself in Hell, but I am still capable should I set my mind to it.

[ The Sinner is already opening his mouth. Trying to plead or ask to make some sort of deal. Anything that might result in him getting out of this. A tendril slaps over the mouth of the Sinner while others stretch and pull him taught with enough force that the poor thing begins to scream and struggle anew. ]

Ah ah ah! It's rude to interrupt when the adults are conversing.

[ He looks back towards Lucifer as the other leans in. There's a thoughtful hum from Alastor in return. ]

In order to understand that, you'd need to refresh yourself on the political workings of your ring, Your Majesty. It requires knowledge of who currently holds power and how.

[lamentapple]

[ About Alastor being a charmer (ha! impossible!), well, hold that thought.

The remakr about refreshing himself on the power dynamics of the ring earns Alastor a roll of Lucifer's eyes, but he doesn't lean away. He doesn't care about the politics. He doesn't care about the Overlords and their petty squabbling, or who has which parts of the Pride Ring under their sway. None of it matters, really. Very little in Hell actually matters. Alastor's really making this much too complicated. ]

Do I? The question sounds like a simple yes or no to me. Either he [ the screaming sinner in question abruptly stops screaming as something golden a very, very cold crawls over his mouth, sealing it ] was going to involve Charlie or he wasn't.

[passimclamoribus]

[ Yes well. Alastor isn't going to back down either so here they are. ]

He went into the hotel and posed as a Sinner desiring redemption. Of course it was going to involve Charlie.

[ Alastor thought that this much would be obvious. ]

How deeply it runs... Well. How about you ask?

[lamentapple]

[ It is obvious — and they both know that's not what Lucifer's really asking. It would have been easy enough for Lucifer to lay down wards for the hotel. Extend his power through the ground, weed out those who might be there for genuine interest in redemption from the riffraff who only wanted trouble. But that would be overstepping.

Charlie's a big girl now. He has to let her make her own mistakes. Has to let her learn to deal with the sinners who she'll one day rule in his stead. For all that she believes the best in him, what kind of father would he be if he let her believe they all could be handled so easily?

So no. He'll let Charlie make her own mistakes. Let her learn not to take any shit in her own way. That's why he's not demanding to know who sent Alastor's victim of the moment. Why he's not grabbing at the chains connecting the man to his Overlord master and dragging them out by the roots. ]

I'd hate to ruin your entertainment. [ Tone bland. No, he doesn't particularly want to get involved with whatever grisly plans Alastor has for the poor sucker strapped to the wall by boiling shadow. ] All I want to know is if he was he targeting Charlie. Or was her involvement going to be purely incidental?

[passimclamoribus]

[ Wow. Look at Lucifer putting his adult pants on. Are they finally starting to fit well?

Alastor chuckles, brow twitching in a suppressed wince. The movement is starting to hurt and, quite frankly, the Radio Demon is starting to become exhausted. He certainly needs to devour someone and soon to maintain appearances.

He leans away and turns his attention back to the Sinner. ]

If I know Vox like I do, his primary interest is me. At first the subversion would be indirect and then likely attempting to broker some deal.

[lamentapple]

[ His pants have always been immaculately tailored, thank you very much!

The twitch doesn't go unnoticed. Neither does the way Alastor's movements are just a little... off. Something's going on. Something that can wait for a moment, though.

Lucifer leans back, satisfied. So not a direct threat to his little girl. Fine, then this... Vox person can play whatever stupid games with Alastor he wants. So long as Alastor's taking care of them properly, not letting them actually reach Charlie, he doesn't have to step in.

Really, Alastor should be careful what he wishes for. He probably wouldn't have half as much fun if Lucifer actually started acting like the king he's supposed to be. ]

So he's weirdly obsessed with you and doesn't give a fig about my daughter. Fine. [ A little dismissive wave and the golden gag vanishes. It's all Alastor's show again. Speaking of, back to that thought... ] Why he's so fixated, I can't imagine. It'll be a cold day in hell before I believe you're anything resembling a "charmer."

[ He makes the air quotes. ]

[passimclamoribus]

I wouldn't say that, sire. With the hotel surviving and Sinners now starting to consider the redemption angle more seriously, do you not think that the Overlords are going to be pleased?

[ A roll of his eyes. Short sighted indeed. ]

With a possibility of redemption and now someone willing to put their immortal soul on the life for them, that means souls no longer under their control. Vox is only getting a head start.

[ But he also doesn't really want anything to happen to the hotel. So there is that. Alastor doesn't want to actually play games with the safety of the hotel or those that actually live there. So yes. He will manage those threats. ]

I never thought you had much taste, so I can hardly be surprised that you can't wrap your itty bitty brain around it.

[ You know what? He honestly doesn't care about this Sinner any longer. Alastor already knows the little games the Vees play. So with a snap of his fingers, the tendrils yank and pull. Screaming and the popping of bones follow. It's a raw, wet tearing noise that fills the room as Alastor makes good on his promise to rip the Sinner limb from limb. ]

[lamentapple]

Ugh. [ He slumps down in his chair, not even trying to hide his pout. ] This is why I find it so hard to believe in you sinners like Charlie does.

[ Of course he believes in Charlie. She's better than him in every single way. But believing in anyone else, well. He'll do anything to support her, but he's still having trouble with that. The motley little crew at the hotel (excepting one demon currently in his company) is all well and good, but they're hardly the norm for Hell.

He's trying real damn hard to keep this new streak of motivation and looking on the bright side going for the exceptions. ]

There's still more than plenty of souls in Hell for you Overlords to squabble over. [ It's not like the overpopulation problem has gone away! Petty assholes. ] What does it matter if a few of them decide to try to get out of this crap hole? It's not like—

[ Whatever else he's going to say is interrupted by that abrupt drawing and quartering. Delicately, Lucifer wrinkles his nose and fishes a handkerchief out of thin air to wipe a spatter of blood off his face. ]

Yuck.

[passimclamoribus]

It would appear that you and I can agree on that much.

[ Who would have thought? But that's probably where it ends. If Lucifer doesn't understand the further reaching consequences of redemption and what it would mean for Overlords, well then that just shows how out of touch he is. Alastor really doesn't feel like explaining it.

After all, he could care less. the Radio Demon can always make more deals. It doesn't matter how small or large the deal is, after all. A soul might provide an exponential boost, but if that soul is gone then there goes that power. Smaller deals, like bribes or favor exchanges linger even should the soul leave. Sometimes it pays to play the long game.

Instead he enjoys his drink and the little show, giggling. The static in his voice is a little louder than usual - muffling the strain and the toll that all of this is taking on his body. ]

Well then! I suppose I have a few more errands to run before I turn in for the night.

[ He reaches out towards Lucifer before that bit of cloth can touch his face. A thumb swipes at the blood before Alastor's tongue cleans off the digit. ]

Hmm. That made it somewhat more palatable. That was a fellow I would not invite for dinner.

[lamentapple]

[ Lucifer freezes up, gaze fixed on the blood on Alastor's finger — on Alastor's mouth as he licks it off. It's startling enough that Lucifer almost forgets the big anomaly of the evening — almost. But just because Alastor's— ugh, complimenting how he'd taste, and there goes a whole host of thoughts Lucifer does not want to have floating around in his head, thanks very much! Anyway. It's not enough to distract him entirely.

Primly, he folds the handkerchief up and waves it away again. Looks over at the mess of gore decorating the room and back to Alastor. Alastor, who hasn't had more than a single lick of blood. ]

Dancing, but no dinner. [ Wry. ] Remind me not to buy into your idea of a date.

[ Is that a cannibalism joke? It sure is a cannibalism joke. ]

[passimclamoribus]

[ Alastor chuckles. Another snap of his fingers, and shadowy minions appear. Without even relaying instructions, they begin the process of cleaning up and uh. Taking away body parts. ]

Technically not a date! [ Reaching over and tapping on Lucifer's bowtie. ] Believe me, if I thought anyone worth my time, I would do nothing less than impress.

[ One moment, he is going to finish off that glass. This time when he breathes out, it's a little shaky. And wet. ]

[lamentapple]

[ Well, that's one way to get out of having to clean up the mess. Lucifer flicks a hand and sends a body part a bit too close to his shoes floating over to the nearest shadow — it happens to be the main shadow — and lets it deal with that bit of limb however the shadows are going to do it. He really doesn't need to know the details.

Especially when Alastor is touching his bowtie, rude! Lucifer immediately starts fussing over it, making sure Alastor hasn't made it crooked or something. ]

I really doubt you could impress—

[ He pauses mid-retort. Squints his eyes as he peers at Alastor. ]

Something's going on with you.

[ That was not the sound of a normal breath, even for someone as abnormal as Alastor. ]

[passimclamoribus]

[ He wishes that he would have had the foresight to actually, you know, fuss with that bowtie. Or do something, really. If Alastor had, then maybe Lucifer wouldn't have caught onto anything.

Eyes narrow. A smile grows tight. Alastor grabs at Lucifer's hand and sets the glass in it. ]

Correct! There is. Hunger.

[ Acknowledging that his injury is flaring up? Nope! Not happening. Instead he stands, straightening out his own suit and bowtie. ]

Which I should be taking care of!

[lamentapple]

[ Lucifer stays seating for a moment longer, idly rolling the glass around in his hands. He's not going to drink it; it's to Alastor's taste, not his, but it is interesting how he can feel the lingering heat of Alastor's hand on it, had nearly felt burned from the touch of Alastor's skin. Much too much body heat, even for a sinner. ]

Guess you should. You know, you're awfully hungry lately.

[ Real neutral, but he hasn't loosened that stare, eyes fixed and evaluating. Far too hungry, now that he thinks about it. Alastor's eaten at Charlie's staff dinners, and there's no way Alastor should need to be eating other sinners as often as he has. It's not out of choice, not with how Alastor's reacted to the interruptions.

Something's wrong. ]

[passimclamoribus]

[ There's a slight static feedback from Alastor. His ears are perked upright and perfectly stock still. Even the fingers that he had been starting to grab his cane with have a slight, barely perceptible flinch before he takes it up and gives it a twirl. ]

No more than usual, I assure you. Why, I didn't realize you were paying so close attention to my eating habits! Are you preparing a surprise for little old me?

[ Deflection. Get Lucifer flustered and angry and maybe the conversation will be dropped. ]

[lamentapple]

[ That little moment of pause is all but confirmation. Not that he expected anything resembling a confession or a plea for aid. He's not gonna offer, either. Alastor wants his help? He can damn well swallow some of that pride and ask for it! That, or one of these days he'll stumble onto Alastor half dead in a ditch and go from there. No borrowing trouble before it shows up in some out of the way, unexpected place to interrupt Lucifer's walk, no sir!

He slides right into the bait with a sense of relief. ]

No! [ And the usual irritation. This fucking guy. ] Anyway, your eating habits should stop showing up when I'm just trying to have a nice day!

[ Yeah. That's what keeps happening. Nothing out of the ordinary with tonight and the guy Alastor honey trapped. ]

[passimclamoribus]

[ There it is. At least the attention is off of Alastor's non-existent existent injury. Or that something is wrong with him - which there is definitely not!

But he does roll his eyes and bend down towards Lucifer. ]

As you keep running into me, I can safely say that I was there first!

[lamentapple]

And who cares that you were there first when you're ruining my walks?!

[ He leans up to get into proper glaring-at-Alastor-from-up-close position. And pauses. It's hard to notice, but he has a seraph's eyes, and it doesn't escape him. A darker blot on the dark red of Alastor's shirt. There's no way Alastor would have let his victim of the night splash on him.

Forget being annoyed by Alastor's insistence on eating in inconvenient places, that's nothing. Inconsequential.

Lucifer slaps his hand against Alastor's chest; it comes away red with blood. ]