Embrace the Mess

Luciana defied everything she knew to settle in New Orleans. It's the beginning to her end, but it's also the beginning of something else.

A commission finished for @spookyaimee on Twitter!

Luciana knew her mother would be furious if she were to ever find her again. She had been instructed to go straight to New York, where her stepfather would have his men waiting there for her. However, the thought of the same old and boring life in a new and exciting country was more than Luce could stomach. How could she truly start over again if she was still living the same patterns in the same way?

There is a lot of time to fill when you are on your own in the middle of the ocean. The woman would occupy herself by staring out at the waves as they lap and nip at the boat’s side when it finally hit her. Just as the water rocked against the boat, this idea began to rock in her mind. A change in location isn’t what was important, it was a change in perspective that was needed.

As that thought settled in her mind, she made a silent vow to herself that as soon as her feet touched American soil, she would run. She wouldn’t look back. Luciana found her independence in the middle of the ocean that day and it would be the decision that would lead to the beginning of her end.

New Orleans was the perfect decision for someone like Luce. Just like her, it is reckless and free but not without its charm and warm hospitality. Unlike the Italian woman, it did hold its biases towards those not from the area. More bluntly put, the locals were racist and mistrusting and that applied tenfold to Luce.

She assumed it is a mixture of her being from Italy, showing up out of the blue, and living at the edge of the woods that lead to the swamplands. Still, being driven out of speakeasies, stores, and even the streets at times was exhausting. Why couldn’t she just live her life the way she wanted?

Luce has grown accustomed to it now, finding solace in the little garden she’s raised from nothing more than seeds and soil. She considers this garden her home and the moths that enjoy it her family. She has convinced herself that she needs nothing else in her life other than these moths and her plants.

Months after settling in, she found that she rarely left her property. She had no real need to, not with the locals being as cruel as they always were to her. Looking back on it, she’s thankful she could always be found in the same place. That’s the only reason she’d ever met him in that sweltering summer of 1925. The crunching of leaves doesn’t draw her attention much until it’s accompanied by someone muttering under their breath. Her head snaps up, gripping the metal gardening spade in her hand as she scans the tree line that the noises came from. She isn’t used to locals coming out this far as most try to keep their distance from the immigrant. However, that doesn’t mean the thought hasn’t crossed her mind many times. She was prepared for the worst, she felt.

What she finds is a gaunt brunette man who looks a little out of sorts stumbling through the trees, holding onto the last one for support. He kicks one foot against the stump of the tree, attempting to knock the caked-on mud off his shoes.

The longer Luce watches, the more she takes in the strange man. He seems distracted as he becomes fully focused on his shoes. His face twists in disgust as he focuses on his task at hand. When he finally looks up and his eyes lock onto her, she sees his piercing eyes tucked behind a pair of cheaters. They hold something in them, but she has a hard time understanding what the emotion could be.

He finally drops his indescribable look and offers Luce a wide smile and a small nod as he reaches up to fix his hair, “Evening, Miss!”

The woman lets out a soft gasp, nearly tripping herself as she hurries over to the small waist-high fence that sits around her garden and home. She grins wide, bouncing on the tips of her toes as she speaks, “Conosco la tua voce!”

Alastor shakes his head and offers a small shrug of his shoulders once his hands are clasped behind his back. He begins to walk passed her with no intention to stop and chat, “Pardon me, but I don’t speak the language I’m afraid!”

The woman’s bouncing comes to a stop and she tilts her head to the side as he speaks. She knows she should have expected this, but found herself getting excited at the one English-speaking voice she cares to listen to. She hasn’t been in America very long, but what she had picked up in English had been from this man’s voice on the radio. That she is sure of.

She turns back to point into the open window of her home at the radio. It is currently playing soft music in the background as she works in her garden, but now it is the center of both their attention, “You. Radio…ah, voce?”

She slips back into Italian at the end and wrinkles up her nose as she does, trying to remember the exact word for voice. She tries to remind herself that she should be studying English more in her spare time.

The attempt at thick and broken English isn’t lost on the announcer nor is her recognition of him. A grin slips into his features once more as he finally stops and turns fully towards Luce, “Ah, yes! You must be familiar with my work on the radio! That comes as no surprise! Many people recognize my voice these days though I am surprised that you listen given you can’t understand me it seems.”

Luce stares for what she feels is a few seconds too long as he speaks before forcing a smile for him. She nods along with his words as he speaks, hoping that he doesn’t feel as if he’s wasting his breath on her. Everything he says isn’t reaching her, not fully. While she’s able to pick up some words in his sentences it’s not enough to even begin to piece together what’s being said.

Alastor stops speaking as he notices her stare is intense in focus but vacant in understanding. She’s not picking up on anything he’s saying. Really, he shouldn’t be bothering himself with someone who can’t even understand or hold a conversation but he hesitates to leave.

There is something about the pained smile on her face as she pretends to listen to him that he enjoys and pities all at once. It’s enough to keep him engaged in playing along with this farce, at least for a moment longer, “Can you believe just how many just think the radio is a fad that will pass and tend to stick with their gramophones over live music and vocal talent? Ha! I can’t wait to see them eat their words in a few years when the radio only becomes better.”

He watches her face as she tries her hardest to process the mouthful he’s just given to her at an unreasonable pace. Her smile falters before she tugs it back up into its original position, nodding a few more times. Her eyes flicker over his face, searching for any emotion to go off of.

He chuckles to himself, reveling in how she’s making him feel before he speaks again, “Well, not that this hasn’t been fun but I must be going now. I do hope you can forgive my intrusion on your afternoon…Miss?”

The man pauses, realizing that she won’t understand any of what he’s said anyway, “Do you have a name?”

This is the first time he sees her perk up with acknowledgment, “Luce.”

“My name is Alastor and it was lovely to meet you, Miss Luce.”

And just as soon as he had arrived, he leaves. He takes the way back into town and Luce cranes her neck to watch him until he disappears. Her heart aches for more conversation and a true friend here. She was always such a social creature and now due to the locals’ hatred of her being a foreigner, she has been forced into a life of solitude. At least the small interaction was a nice change.

It would be nearly a week later that the man would return to once again interrupt Luce’s daily routine in her garden. This time she does not notice him right away and he has to clear his throat to get her to turn around. Smirking, he offers her a rather large cooking pot much to her confusion. She looks up at him for answers as she comes closer to the fence that separates them.

“My mother insisted I should bring you some of her cooking when I told her about you up here. Seems she knows you from town or at least the way you’ve been treated. Poor thing.” That had been something he hadn’t known prior to talking to her. This town was full of nothing but lowlifes, that he knows.

He holds the pot very firmly in his hands and as Luce leans in to get a better look, the savory smell of a home-cooked meal reached her nose. She could have cried if she hadn’t been so focused on taking in the wonderful sight before her. She looked up to Alastor for some sort of explanation before bringing a hand to her chest, “For..me?”

“Evening, Vaggie!”

Charlie's cheery voice echoes through the hotel’s lobby as she descends the stairs. Vaggie has been in the exact same place she’s been all morning, seated on one of the couches next to the fireplace. She is working out some of their plans for the new residents that had agreed to their program. Well, it was less the program they were staying for and more the free booze or protection, but it was a start and those kinds of perks only came later in the day, after they’d put in the work that Vaggie and Charlie had planned. While it wasn’t ideal, it was how they managed to rope Angel Dust into this and he’d been making progress (however slim that progress might have been). As her girlfriend comes into full view, the moth demon notices the determined look that is already plastered on her face. It’s the same look she’d worn to the news studio and again when she agreed to let Alastor help with the hotel. Oh no, Charlie had made some sort of decision on her own. Vaggie stands and moves to press a kiss to the princess’s cheek before leaning back to cross her arms. 

“Hey hon…what’s that look for?” A smirk is painted on her lips, but she’s worried about whatever has been planned without her. The hellborn had a way of getting an idea in her head and feeling the need to act on it right then without any more consideration. Vaggie had seen it before and she was sure this time wouldn’t be any different. “Remember how I reached out to my dad to see if he’d make plans to talk with me? Well, he finally got back to me and agreed to see me tonight!” Charlie explains, bouncing slightly as she speaks. A small smile slips into Vaggie’s features as she watches her girlfriend’s unbridled excitement for a moment. “That’s great. Have you thought about how you’re going to get your plans through to him?” Charlie’s bouncing stops, but the large smile doesn’t disappear from her face. She gives a nod as her hands slip behind her back. “I guess I’ll finally have to take your advice properly. I’ll talk a little less and smile more. Listen to his side of things. I’ll be very diplomatic about it! I’ve got it all planned out!” Charlie’s optimism gives Vaggie a brief burst of fleeting hope before reality comes crashing back into her seconds later. “I don’t know about this, hon. I mean, your dad isn’t exactly the most understanding demon when it comes to what we’re trying to do here. The last time-” “The last time doesn’t matter,” Charlie cuts in, already knowing full well what Vaggie intends to remind her of. “I had nothing then, but we’ve made so many accomplishments already! He’s got to see that and who knows, maybe he’ll change his mind.” The confidence evaporates halfway through her statement and by the end Vaggie can tell there’s no real feeling behind it. Charlie has faith in the hotel, and she has faith in herself, but her faith in her father and his acceptance of her dreams died a long time ago. “Charlie, you know I love your optimism. It’s one of the best things about you,” the moth demon starts, placing a gentle hand on Charlie’s cheek. Vaggie smiles warmly as her thumb grazes over her skin. She loses herself in the princess’s hopeful eyes for a few long beats before her smile drops and her tone becomes serious once again. “But your dad is pretty merciless when it comes to the hotel. He holds a lot of pride in your family’s reputation.” The corner of Charlie’s mouth tugs up into a crooked smirk. It doesn’t reach her eyes as she quips back a response that Vaggie can only describe as on-brand for Charlie Morningstar. 

“Well..Hate the sin, love the sinner, right?” The princess’s eyes drift to the old grandfather clock posted near the entrance and she leans in to press a quick kiss to her girlfriend’s cheek before she can open her mouth to shoot back a rebuttal. 

“Sorry, Vaggie! I’ve gotta go! I’m going to be late for dinner,” she says just before sprinting out the door, leaving the moth demon alone in the entryway of the hotel. “...Good luck, hon.”

- Imposing. That’s the word the princess had heard used to describe her family home ever since she was small. While she hadn’t seen what others had meant by that before, standing there now and staring up at the overly lavish exterior she was starting to see it herself. It wasn’t the luxurious facade that was making her nervous, however, but the uncertainty that waits inside. As silly as it is, Charlie pauses at the front doors and lifts her fist as if she’s going to knock, but catches herself. This is her family home and there is no real reason to do so, she had always been allowed in whenever she wanted, but that was before her family felt so distant and her father became a stranger.

She swallows back the new emotions swirling inside from the unplanned action. There would be time to decipher that all another time, but for now she had a mission to accomplish. Charlie finds her father is already seated in the dining room. Her shoulders slump slightly as she looks over the set table. Their plates and cups are both already filled and Lucifer seems impatient to get on with it. She assumes that he knows why she’s here and is attempting to end their time together as quickly as possible. The feeling stings in both her chest and stomach, but again she forces this feeling back. She smiles at her father and takes her seat. 

“Evening, Dad.” “Evening.” His response is short as he looks over at his daughter. He raises an eyebrow as she fidgets in her chair, placing her hands in her lap. It’s clear that she wants to say something, but she’s trying to hold herself back. His eyes flicker over her face and he realizes she won’t last long. Charlie looks at her father and offers another weak smile before looking over at the chair that would have been saved for her mother.

“Mom couldn’t make it tonight?” She knows the answer. Her mother rarely found time to make an appearance for family dinners, even now that they were few and far between. The princess is just uncomfortable with the silence that quickly formed between them. It felt as though they were two strangers forced to have dinner together. Lucifer shakes his head.“You know how busy your mother can get. With this being such short notice, she couldn’t change her schedule around.” Charlie doesn’t agree that it’s short notice. She had been pestering them for dinner plans for weeks but had received no response from either until that afternoon. They could have picked another night, but she knows her mom doesn’t want anything to do with what would most likely be a fight between Lucifer and Charlie.  She pushes back her disapproval of the statement and smiles instead, like Vaggie suggested she do. “Right. That makes sense. It’s a shame though…” “That it is.” Another short statement from her dad knocks the motivation out of Charlie. He doesn’t even seem to want to talk to her on a normal level. It could be because he knows where this is all leading, but she fears that it is because he doesn’t like speaking with her anymore.    If that’s how he wants to be, she decides that there’s no point in trying to beat around the bush. She needs to attack this head-on and just get all of her thoughts out there as unchallenging as possible. She still thinks Vaggie is right about that. Breaking the silence, Charlie perks up with sudden instilled passion. “So, I know you’ve said you don’t want to hear about the hotel in the past,” the princess isn’t looking up from her plate, pushing small bits of food around with her fork before finally looking up at her father. “But we’ve made some real progress! There are demons-” A wave of Lucifer’s hand is all it takes to silence his daughter before he even speaks. “Yes, yes. The Radio Demon visited and told me all about the progress your little ‘project’ is making.” He says, sounding indifferent to her subtle plea for him to listen. Knitting her eyebrows together, the princess leans back in her seat and stares at her father waiting for some sort of explanation. When she doesn’t receive it she attempts to prompt her father. 

“Alastor told you about the hotel?” Lucifer sighs as if her prodding is nothing more than an annoyance he’d rather not deal with. She’s sure he feels that he owes her no explanation. Charlie’s sure that he’d rather be with his wife and friends instead of listening to her plights or accomplishments, whichever it was at the time. But she’s come too far to back down now. Not this time.

She repeats herself. “Alastor told you about the hotel?” “He didn’t tell me much. Just that he showed up on the hotel’s doorstep to find you in distress and in disarray after that awful news station interview.” 

“O-oh, that…” Charlie starts, shoulders relaxing considerably. It’s not as bad as she had expected it to be. Lucifer nods solemnly before continuing, “you told him you had nowhere else to turn and asked him to help you. So, he arranged your hotel staff?” There it was, the flair and exaggeration that the Princess had come to expect from the Overlord. Part of her wants to ask when Alastor had come to talk with her father; was it after she’d announced her plans to try and convince her father to support her or right after he’d agreed to help the hotel? Either way, it wasn’t exactly helping her case now. She sighs, bringing her fingers to her temple. “Yes, he brought in some staff to help me, but I didn’t-” Lucifer’s impatience gets the best of him and he cuts his daughter off once more. “He also rearranged the hotel’s venue, lodging, and advertising?” “Yes, he did that too…but you don’t-” “Charlotte!” Lucifer’s voice is assertive as it always is, but Charlie thinks she hears hints of desperation in his tone. It’s almost as if he’s pleading with her to come to her senses. Almost. 

He sighs, bringing his hand to his face as he questions her further. “What could he have possibly said to get you to make any sort of deal with him? You realize you’ve given him a new location for his radio station? The same radio station he uses to gain his power? He’ll never leave you alone now. Do you understand how dangerous that could be for you? For that collection of misfits you call your friends?”  “I didn’t make any deals, Dad! A-and it doesn’t matter if his radio station is there. It’s good for us, because the hotel is in the same spot! Demons are flocking to it! W-whether it’s to see Alastor or The Angel Dust or just for the free booze;  they’re there and they’re at least thinking about the hotel! They’re thinking about redemption!” His expression lightens considerably as his red eyes flicker over Charlie’s face. He’s impressed momentarily with his daughter’s tenacity as she makes it known that she’d convinced Alastor to help without some sort of deal. 

“You got more than you gave…” “And I wanted what I got! Demons are at my hotel, trying my methods.” “Methods that won’t work.” “We don’t know that! I know it’s a bit of a dangerous game, but…” There is a pause as she looks down and digs deep for more confidence before her hard gaze becomes fixed on Lucifer once more. “Y-you don’t get a say unless you’re playing the game, right?  I know I get hate for it, a lot of hate, but I won’t get anything if I just…wait for it!” Her words strike a familiar chord in the King of Hell, one that had been long forgotten. For a few brief seconds, he’s transported back to a body and a life he’d buried long ago. He’s staring down the leader of the celestial ranks, the Supreme Ruler, and as he speaks he’s surprised to find his words hold the familiar tone of his daughter’s.

God, help and forgive me. “Charlie…” Lucifer rarely uses his daughter’s self-designated nickname, but he finds that he’s exhausted and hopes it’s enough to pull her out of this resolve she’s put herself in. He wants nothing more than to leave this where it is for some other time. “No…” Charlie’s tone is harsh as she realizes immediately what he’s trying to do. He wants to be done, but she holds her ground as the set-aside feelings from before creep up on her. She can’t let this fall through the cracks, not again. Lucifer can’t help but see that the look on her face resembles the ferocity he felt all those years ago. The only thing that shakes him more is the words that go along with it.

“I want to build something that’s going to outlive me, outlive us! I thought you of all people would know what that’s like.” “Charlotte. We’re done here.” He tries again with her full name and a bolder tone. Though he doesn’t show it, her words bitterly make him consider what she’s saying. He’s decided he’ll think about her words and her hotel’s progress but for now, he won’t openly let her know. Charlie had always been a bit too optimistic at the first sign of him bending to her wishes. For now, he had to remain strong. Charlie’s resolve breaks with his harsh tone. Her hand moves up to her chest as she starts to speak. “Dad, I-” He puts up a hand to stop her from talking and shakes his head. “Just go.” The princess hesitates at the edge of the table, resting her hand momentarily on the back of the chair before turning on her heel. There is a pause as she reaches the dining room’s doors and she turns to look back at her father once more.