Chapter Text
Had Alastor become drunk over his new found freedom? Is that what allowed him to let his inhibitions go so easily around Lucifer? Grew too confident, too comfortable, over his long anticipated control over his own being for the first time. For the first time in his existence, he has complete and final say over everything.
And what does he do?
Becomes sloppy. That’s what.
He cannot lose his edge or his wits like that. He can’t afford it. Not when he is so close. But clearly, Lucifer also isn’t nearly as doltish as Alastor presumed the angel to be. Alastor needs to regain his bearings and his composure, then reassess Lucifer.
The king of hell truly seemed unaware to the affect of this dish. He was aiming for something Alastor would like, but definitely did much better than he was expecting. Pausing his movements, Alastor takes a moment to inspect the next bite of pancake. It’s fragrance is familiar but definitely not a replica of the original. The batter itself is stained from greens and reds of some of the vegetables, another difference. Sliding the delectable bite off the fork, Alastor simply allows it to sit on his tongue for a moment, ignoring how it makes him salivate. It’s lighter. The different flavors blend together the exact way they should, though the seasoning combination is slightly off, it’s still the closest by far. Lucifer didn’t cook the venison before adding it into the batter, leaving the meat only par cooked; that’s new.
Alastor bites the inside of his cheek in ire as a traitorous thought crosses his mind for the second time. That he dares to prefer the meat this way over the original. That impish-
Glaring down at the plate of half eaten pancakes, Alastor uses the fork to cut another bite-sized serving. Alastor tried for years, both in life and in death, trying to recreate a specific combination. No matter how proficient in the craft of cooking he became, he always did it wrong. It was never even close to the original. And then, though its distinctly not a carbon copy, on Lucifer’s first try he comes so much closer than Alastor ever had.
And Lucifer?
Totally and utterly unaware of it all.
Alastor looks to the glass vase of blue mists, the gentle purple calming his nerves. He had ‘slipped’ to Lucifer that they were his favourite to gauge Lucifer’s reaction, search for his intention, hoping that the devil would slip up in his pride. What he wasn’t expecting was the blaring honesty of which Lucifer answered him. Stupidly honest. In all truth, they aren’t his favourite, but he does associate them with favourite memories of his. It’s alarming for Alastor to think about the fact that he must have bled his cards too many times for Lucifer to get a read on something so deeply personal like this in a single shot, with whatever gifted intuition the angel has. Sure, a flower and a simple meal isn’t something important, but that is it. If Lucifer was able to get such a read on something as inconsequential as this then what about the things that could be Alastor’s undoings? His intentions and ambitions? His freedom?
It’s why Alastor needs to regain the upper hand. He needs to always stay five steps ahead.
Another thing that Alastor hates to admit, but is much more… pleasantly surprised with is that Lucifer is much more perceptive and intelligent than Alastor initially gave him credit for. Or anyone else for that matter. A smirk lightens Alastor’s face. Perhaps even Lucifer himself. Either way, Alastor may have to up his game and technique. This could be fun if he lets it. He just needs to remember to keep his caution about him, remain vigilant.
Thinking back to Lucifer’s reasoning of cooking for Alastor in the first place, he scoffs initially. Lucifer has no room to be talking about trust issues. But Alastor supposes the King’s distrust isn’t unfounded. He’s trapped in this realm, virtually powerless against every soul around him and now they all know it… That strikes a rather unsettling cord with Alastor.
Tucking that thought away for future use and to not dwell too far into it personally, he looks down to his arm that Vox’s guard dog had nearly taken off and flexes his fingers with ease.
Lucifer believed he owed Alastor for helping him. The King was desperately clinging to consciousness that entire night and was rather out of sorts. The days that followed, Lucifer had acted like nothing happened. And with such a belated show of gratitude, how out of it he was is confirmed, because he did seem to actually forget most of that evening. From an outside perspective, that is rather in-character for the king who’s existence spans multiple eons. However, Alastor is almost prideful over how he can get under the other’s skin. Almost. They seem to do so at the same rate as one another.
Regardless, the angel genuinely forgot their transactions of that night, for the most part. Because if he hadn’t, the angel would have remembered that it was Alastor returning a favor that night. That before Charlie and Vaggi tried dragging Lucifer with them, Lucifer had stumbled across Alastor ineffectually trying to wrap his own injury. In his stupor, Lucifer looked around like he was lost, and before Alastor could mock him, he flicked some of his own blood into Alastor’s open wound and snapped his fingers. And poof, just like that, the injury that was about to be Alastor’s psychological undoing of the hour was healed. Not completely, there’s still a scar, but the pain dulled down and he was no longer bleeding out. He’s still positive that Lucifer didn’t even know where he was or who he had just healed. He looked like a lost little thing.
And, indeed, that little exchange is lost and forgotten by the king. He only remembers that Alastor helped cover for his pride to his daughter and patched him up. The radio demon needs to figure out the extent of Lucifer’s changing ambitions and perception. He most certainly isn’t going to return to his hermit lifestyle, nor is he dense.
Finishing breakfast, Alastor moves all the dishes to the sink, cleaning them before he heads to the hotel’s office on his way to assist Vaggi in directing the flow of the residents.
Reaching over the desk, Alastor turns the stick phone to face him and brings the telephone up to his ear. Once hearing the dial tone, he quickly spins Rosie’s number in on the rotary dial. It doesn’t take much longer than a few seconds for her to pick up, his ears perking in attention and slight relief at the sound. Her voice is such an ease on his ears. He brings the stick up closer to his face to ready his response.
After Vox’s botched attempt at war with heaven a couple weeks ago, and Alastor slipping out from Rosie’s cage, the two came to an understanding. He’s still willing to help Rosie with her goals, but on his own terms. She seems to still find him endearing, and she told him she looks forward to exchanging favor for favor.
Relaxing his shoulders a bit, Alastor leans his hip against the desk. “Ah, yes, it’s Alastor, my dear, I was calling to inquire on if you happen to have a short opening for an appointment this afternoon?” On the other end, she tells him that she does have time after her three p.m. engagement, “Yes, four thirty is perfect, Rosie, I’ll be at your doorstep on the dot.” The other overlord pens it in her books and has to end the call soon. “Farewell to you too.”
Gently setting the upright back on the desk, and the speaker back on it’s holder, Alastor picks up today’s agenda of tasks he’s to tend after. “I’ll have this all completed before my afternoon broadcast, lovely.” Alastor hums as he leaves the office.
———
With his age old routine and a new humming tune, Alastor makes his way down to Cannibal Town, roses in hand as he straightens his tie. He still can’t get Lucifer’s melodies out of his mind. He’s been very attentive not to let them slip into his broadcast open to the public, but they do still make their rounds in his private one.
Just as Alastor was about to raise a few knuckles to rap on Rosie’s door, the entrance swings open to a bright smile of Rosie herself. “Alastor! Perfect with time as ever!” She moves to the side to give him room to walk in. “I was delighted to hear you call!”
“It’s lovely to see you, Rosie,” once he steps in, he gives a slight bow as he holds out the flowers for her, “It was a relief to me that you were able to fit me in on such short notice.”
Accepting the flowers, she waves off his worries, “Oh honey, I’ll always have time to fit you in. Despite what happened recently, you’ve always been good to me. I’ll always be happy to help you, my dear.” Rosie removes the nearly wilted flowers from Alastor’s last visit to place in the new ones before she meets him over at her tea table. “Now, what can this rose do for you?”
Sitting across from the other overlord, Alastor crosses one leg over the other. “You’ve known the Morningstar family for quite some time, worked along side them for before I fell down here myself,” he leads on with, folding his hands in his lap while Rosie pours her unique black tea blend steeped in blood for the both of them, one of his preferred beverages of her creation.
“Yes, most certainly. I had done much at Lilith’s side and in her family’s name. It was an utter delight to me when you first brought Charlie to meet me! She’s following in her mother’s footsteps faster than anyone would have ever imagined, and in a unique way of her own.” The smile that touches Rosie’s face is almost bittersweet as she stares into her reflection in the tea. “A heart like her’s, truly is the daughter of an angel.”
Alastor’s attention spikes at the last addition. “You’ve been acquainted with Lucifer?” Rosie usually either kept him too busy to engage with the Morningstar affairs or allowed him to tend to his own agenda, so he never really engaged with them himself. He had assumed Lucifer never entertained Lilith’s same ideals with the sinners.
“Ha! Of course I have!” Taking a long sip of her tea, she looks over to a trinket on one of her bookshelves. A duck with a bouquet of roses. A gift of gratitude- one she treasures and is still fond of. Her smile softens as she returns her attention to Alastor. She loves her friend, but she is going to make him ask for what he wants to know rather than hope she talks his ear off. “Lovely fella.”
She’d be lying if she said that the way Alastor’s smile strains wasn’t slightly humorous. “Absolutely charming.” Alastor reaches for his cup and simply holds it, his other hand supporting the bottom gracefully. “So he followed Lilith around the ring in her quest to empower the sinners?”
“Hmm… Not quite, no. Most of that was left to Lilith on her lonesome. But he did meet with some of the overlords, both with her and in his own time. To try and understand her dreams. But it never really sunk in.” She watches as Alastor swirls the tea before he finally takes a sip. “He tried every so often, and until a little over a century ago would put on concerts at the theatre he had built for her,” she decides to throw him a bone disguised as an off handed comment, “Zestial never missed a performance.” She feigns having to search her thoughts, “Hmm, if I remember correctly, it’s the very same place where Charlie now has the hotel.
“Was he too good to mingle with wicked souls after all?” Alastor tilts his head, speaking with laughter in his tone, “Couldn’t get past hypocrisy and his disdain?”
Rosie’s smile drops as she sets her cup down on it’s saucer with a loud ‘click’ that echoes in the silent room. Alastor looks like a deer in headlights, staring at Rosie the way he is as if he hadn’t just disregarded her own past with the Morningstars. She may be closer to Lilith, but she considers both of them to be her friend. But then again, Alastor never directly met them either, that was partly intentional on her end.
Softening her tone, Rosie releases the tension from her shoulders. “Not quite. Lucifer has always had his flaws and reservations. He didn’t share Lilith’s ideals. He desperately wanted to, but he felt suffocated trying to undo the strings that had made him. He is an angel, Alastor.”
Rosie has seen Alastor be gentle and attempt to give kindness in his own way to souls who couldn’t protect themselves, how he longs and loves to interact with others but struggles to do so. She recognized it, as Lucifer has always been similar. And if she ever tells Alastor any of that, he will immediately reject the notion and lash out at others for it. “It’s never crossed Lucifer’s mind to repeat he cruelness he’s witnessed. It’s in his nature to be kind and to care, and seeing how some of the overlords had cared for the souls in their districts, it gave him whispers of hope, but that man had lost his ability to dream and follow his own ambitions eons ago.” Rosie’s eyebrows knit in concern, trying to figure out how to best convey the way this man had been broken. “Lilith couldn’t do it all herself, but she still tried.”
Rosie hasn’t seen either of them for the past eight years. She can only hope they’re okay. “Alastor, what is it that you think Lucifer will be able to give you that you haven’t worked to gain already?”
Alastor stiffens, grip on his tea cup threatening to tighten. “You already know what I’m after, you’ve known longer than anyone.”
He’s going to make this like pulling teeth. “Just… How about, I tell you whatever it is you came to me searching for, or I can listen to whatever it is that worries you and I can give you advice or reassurance, and in return, at some point you bring Lucifer here for a visit?” Rosie gives Alastor as bright a smile as she can manage, “Oh I’d love to catch up with him!” She ease the tension with a softer smile, “Could we make a deal on it?”
Reluctant at first, Alastor nods, taking a sip of his drink in sync with her’s, a gentle surge of energy expelling from them.
“I… thought I had Lucifer figured out, but he proved to make me sorely mistaken.” Alastor chews over his words carefully. “And before you ask, no, I have no intention of hurting him. I made a little deal with Charlie solidifying that. However, something happened this morning that nearly jeopardized that.”
Rosie’s eyes widen at that.
That’s…
Alastor has never been one to break a deal.
Sure, he found a loop to weasel his way out of Rosie’s from his own desperation, but he’s always upheld every deal he’s made. “May I ask what it was that rattled your senses out of you, dear?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just takes a long sip of the tea, trying to enjoy it. He places the cup gently onto its saucer as he answers. “He… In some attempt show me an expression of gratitude, he made me breakfast.”
“He’s cooking again? From scratch?” This conversation is going to be a game of ‘how wide can Rosie’s eyes go?’
“Yes. And what he made…” Alastor groans before forcing the next part out of his throat, “was almost exactly a recipe I have spent years trying to recreate to no avail, as it was a recipe only known by one person.”
Rosie tries to keep her smile as normal as possible. Definitely… not going to meddle, no. Her? Never. “Oh?”
Alastor drops his head into his hand, keeping him from seeing Rosie’s expression regardless. “And it tasted better than I remember because it accounted for changes to my taste palate that hadn’t developed the last time I had it.”
Oh, oh her poor friend is so painfully unaware of the riches he has just given her. He’s agonizing over being honest and open when he really should be agonizing over something else. If he knew what it was, this would be a very different conversation. One that Alastor most certainly is not ready to have.
“Well, if you want some good news, whatever it is, he cares a lot. You must have done something that really impacted him.” She can give a half truth. She isn’t the one under oath here.
The man throws his arms out as he looks up to her, “No! I owed him first and he forgot because he was dazed from blood loss!” Alastor is about to rant more, but immediately lowers his voice and grumbles inaudibly, making his words indistinguishable. There’s definitely more to it that he isn’t sharing with her, but she decides to cut him a break.
“Well, knowing you, you have something else planned in return?” After pouring more tea, she relaxes back into her chair with a gentle smile. Alastor smile widens frantically, as he begins to carefully explain his tale to her.
She’ll have to make more tea soon. This visit will run long.