#deer devil daddy

@deer-devil-daddy ⧐ 🍫 -- Lucie giving him a box of assorted chocolates that range from flavorless, to mildly sweet, to sweet, to overly sweet, to bitter, then to spicy and rounding off with some question cannibalistic ones. BE MY VALENTINE ASKS.

Food is difficult for him to turn down. Despite the fact that chocolates are not especially his favorite, it does not stop him from opening the box once its in his possession, peering at the contents and giving them a few cursory sniffs to discover that they are an assortment of different flavors. Some a bit too sweet for him (and those specifically are placed aside in a bowl which he can deliver to Niffty later on), and others that seem to fit his preferences much more closely.

The bitter ones are taste-tested happily, and he sets those aside for himself, with some extreme curiosity given towards the spicier ones. Spicy chocolate is not something he's thought to seek out - but now he certainly will. And combining those with the others that seem to be of a particularly fleshy make means that the better parts of the gift outweigh those he cannot use.

However... The gift does have him somewhat suspicious. What is Lucifer expecting in turn? Is this some sort of thank you for what they've done? But that had been part of a deal... So what is the purpose of this gift?

He does not understand. And under any other circumstances, he might have closed the box and set it aside, or otherwise returned it, for fear that Lucifer might use it as leverage against him at some point.

But with two of the chocolates already in his mouth... it's a bit too late for that.

So instead, he will summon up a bit of that eldritch liquor which he has conjured up before. This one is different, with the liquid inside the oddly shaped glass a stark and bright blue. It twinkles in the light, and the taste is likely something akin to a sour, fruity mix that he presumes Lucifer might enjoy more than himself.

It is delivered to the devil's door with a small note and nothing else.

Beware. It's strong.

- A

There. Now he cannot claim to owe Lucifer anything.

For someone who was supposed to be the King of Hell, Lord of Unholy Legions, Demon of Demons, Strongest of All in Hellfire... Lucifer appeared small and awkward, sitting to the side on a bar stool in a way that had nothing to do with his stature and everything to do with how he held himself in that moment. Entirely out of his element and extraneous, surrounded by grandeur and opulence enough to fade into the background like another statue or tapestry (not so strange, to him, except perhaps, a severe shortage of ducks).

After recent events, he’s never felt more out of place.

The Hotel now proven beyond a shadow of a doubt to be successful. Heaven both apologizing and ceasing the cullings indefinitely. A new hope on the horizon for all sinners that wished better for themselves after having a taste of what eternity in the pits could be like. The recent threat of uprising now quashed for the time being.

Charlie looked so happy.

It's all he can do just to watch, focusing on the way her eyes crinkled and nose scrunched up like her mother's did when hearing something she knew was ridiculous but amusing all the same... In appearance, the two stood in stark contrast, and most might not clock them as being related, but... He could see Lilith in her, the influence of her mother reflecting outward in small gestures and expression. Most importantly, in strength.

Neither of them had spoken yet about that fight. Lucifer having needed time to recover and keeping to himself; Charlie having her hands more than full with not only managing a packed beyond capacity Hotel but also handling relations between kingdoms of Hell and Heaven. Lucifer begrudges her none of this. Not a single second.

But, well, she doesn’t really need him, does she? She had needed the King for his connections, and his strength to keep Adam at bay, but beyond that...? It had all been her, and her people. Charlie did it all on her own, figured it out on her own, persevered on her own, and even defeated the biggest threat Hell had faced yet with tempting Heaven to do permanant erasure… He had only escalated events and became a weapon of destruction that almost ended everyone’s lives in Pride.

Save, of course, for his own.

It's become very clear that his little light had grown up all on her own, unbeknownst to him, while he remained frozen in years past, living in a golden memory likely forgotten by any but him. She didn’t… need him any more now. Hadn’t really needed him since after their fight — since after that Battle a little over a month ago. In fact, the only reason he was here now, was his own worthless attachments. The duck in his pocket felt very heavy indeed.

Lucifer's claws absently clink on the counter, debating on if he should still try to offer it or scrap it as a bad job. It would be out of touch, right? It would look like he hadn't noticed she wasn't a child anymore, right? Would she hate it? Sometimes, she would just look at him, and he'd wonder, what he could do to erase that frown, and know, with a sinking in his stomach, that she had already giving him the answer to that question, and he bungled it again by forgetting what was said.

There's movement, and he can see Charlie perk up, looking in his direction and- oh- Oh! She waving and smiling! That's - That's good! He's needs to- he has to- oh, why was the waving hand in his pocket, he didn't need a duck, he needed to- he has to w- ah-

Ah... Lucifer turns the wave into taking off the top hat to hide his mistake, face growing flushed and hand clenched tight on the brim. She had been waving Alastor over. Simple misunderstanding. It was- It was good that he had caught himself before making this awkward. For Charlie, that is. The Radio Demon could immolate for all he cared. Which was to say, Lucifer cared more than he wanted to. The duck collection had greatly suffered Every Time those taunting words danced around his head like a broken record, until he's driven to drown it all out, somehow.

(“Who's been here since day one?”

“I'm your guy, your day-to-day.”

“Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud; they say the family you choose is better.”

“I care for you, just like a daughter I spawned. It's a little funny, you could almost call me ‘dad’—”)

The tophat creaked in protest, and Lucifer set it on the counter with a sigh. Time and place. He couldn't ruin this too, it wasn't a child's duty to handle a deadbeat dad's angst. Especially one of his own doing. She looked so happy. He adored that smile, she was almost glowing... Charlie.... His little light was shining so brightly, it was enough, right? What did it matter who was the one ultimately responsible for encouraging this, so long as she was safe and happy?

(“Who's been here since day one?”)

He's. So happy for her.

(“I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond.”)

How could he interfere with that now, just because he was- was-

Ah............ What was he doing here, again? It was important to be here, right? To. Show he cared. Just! Not intrusively! He just wanted to give his support! It- he wasn't overstaying his welcome, right? This was an adequate amount of time, right? It wasn't him running away because he, the King of Hell himself and Charlie's father (by blood!), felt threatened or anything so ridiculous as that, ahaha! Who would ever believe such a thing? Preposterous!

Lucifer glances over, studying his daughter's face and vicariously soaking it in....

..................

.........

...

Lilith would be so proud, of the young woman she raised. Perhaps it was time he went back instead of meddle further. Lucifer stands up to do just that, expression pinching as his eyes meet Alastor’s — and then glances away. Now was not the time to pick a fight. Not with someone that knew something no one alive should down here.

Lucifer squints, giving a suspicious once over.

Lua puts down the book she was reading, a bit annoyed.

@deer-devil-daddy

It was all too easy to rile him up, that kind of gullibility that the Radio Demon often preyed on in both life and afterlife. Even the King of Hell himself was no exception, and that might be the most amusing aspect of it all. Lucifer, who struck terror into the hearts of people everywhere, the devil himself....currently trying, and failing, to do something as simple as snatch a duck from his claws. So Alastor laughed, yanking it away just as he tried. Childish bully behavior, but the Radio Demon didn't care.

"Oh ho? This one is special, hm?" He should have known that the little white lie would completely slip past him. 'No Alastors allowed'? Like a sign would stop him, having swiped the nearest funny looking one before he could get caught. Upon some inspection, it looked similar to one of the hotel's guests, and hated that it piqued some intrest from the Sinner, with the flick of his ears. "I told you, I found it....around." Around the King's room, that is. Too easy.

Forgetting that he had had wings, he stubbornly reached for the little duck shaped and painted like one of the hotel residents. It wasn't the duck itself he wanted necessarily. It was what what hidden inside the duck he didn’t want to get out there.

Morbid Curiousity:

"No, I don't think so," he chuckled, dodging those attempts at Lucifer grabbing the little duck. It wasn't hard to maneuver, considering the King of Hell was much shorter than Alastor himself, but he settled on placing a claw at his face to juuuuust barely hold him out of reach.

He left his room and made his way down the long hallway toward the little king's room. He knelt down as he slipped the piece of paper under the door.

He stood back up, hands folded behind his back before he slinked back down the hallway and back into his own room. Flicking a wrist and lighting the fireplace. Soft music filling the room.

He really hoped his little king liked his card.

And just what is he supposed to make of this..??

True, they had been getting… friendlier (???) over the past months, when Alastor would approach him and hold almost… entirely cordial conversations. Almost, because the sinner would always need to have the final edgewise word and love to get a rise out of him... However, the card still comes as a surprise, entirely homemade and simple. It’s actually kind of cute with the two birds, clearly one of him and another with Alastor. It was an actual genuinely nice gesture, making his thumb stroke the corner of it as his eyes danced over the cursive and little pictures.

He should go thank him in person. And see if there was more meaning to this, because these birds honestly looked as if they were kissing or something. There’s a fondness in this that looks more like a confession; more than just him reading into it, there was this… elusive feeling of wanting to melt and clutch this card close. It wells up, and if anything, he would use the excuse of thanking to get an answer for his own vague emotion.

Lucifer, already dressed cozily, saw no reason to change as he left his room and hoofed it down the corridor to Alastor’s end of the Hotel, peering up at his door and fidgeting there with the card grasped tightly in his hands, taking care not to smudge any of the lines. One breath, two; the devil give a nervously little polite rap on the door, waiting.

Things had been strange in his mind lately, more distracted and absentminded than his usual. It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for him to feel concerned, there were plenty of periods in his life where it felt a bit dreamlike. A faint knowledge that his mind was particularly empty as life passed by in a daze. It had gotten better when he moved into the Hotel — plenty of new stimuli to break up the monotany and hold his attention. But this last week, it was him falling back into old habits, with things slipping his mind at the start and end to his days, only things in the middle as he was out and about sticking with any sort of crystal clarity.

And with truth, it might have been the fear that kept him so sharp when not on the topmost floor — so many sinners, he can’t help but feel on edge. Alert from the need to survive, and it didn’t help that — Alastor kept watching him so smugly, perhaps even knowingly. The secret was never uttered (so much as Lucifer could hope that it wasn’t), but a look at enough to convey the silent threat. That it could be at any time the demon so pleased.

They needed to talk. Lucifer needed to be sure that Alastor wouldn’t spread it around to the highest bid.

But it just kept… slipping his mind. By the time he got to the top step and started to walk down towards his room, he would get so distracted — by a notif on his phone, a passing thought, sleepiness — and would end up back in his room instead, tucked securely in his nest of blankets and clutching a heating pad to his open sores, fresh gause feeling like a snug embrace. And he wouldn’t remember to kick himself about it until midway through the next day, nodding off into his coffee. It was likely the shock from that Incident he’d rather not recall with the weapon, but — it truly was inconveient to not keep a grip on his own head!

He ended up putting a reminder on his phone and a pin on the general location to Alastor’s room. It almost didn’t work, as he had absently hit snooze when he stepped up to the top floor, showering and dressing down before it went off again some time later. Reminding him of his mission.

Lucifer almost talked himself out of it from the late hour… however, he had committed himself to this before. The worst that could happen was Alastor not answering.

Well, actually the worst is Alastor taking offense and blackmailing him… buuuut let’s not think about that, yeah? Before he lost his gumption completely.

It's with only a bit of uncertain shuffling, hooves restlessly sinking into the carpet, that he knocks on the door and waits, his dark little tail flicking in his unease. Just consider it a trust exercise, a little show of something genuine, and see what comes out from the attempt. Ignore the familiar pit of doom regarding trying to bargin with this guy just to draw the short straw. He’s never even spoke with this guy long enough to get even close to making an agreement of any kind, why the sense of dread or familiarity?

▹@deer-devil-daddy said: 📻: Mmm... Scrambled eggs and bacon? Well seasoned with some black coffee to go with?

"I would never imagine it being anything less than well-seasoned. All easily doable, as long as you can assist with keeping anyone else out of my way while I prepare it."