#§radioiaci§

[the-devil-less-known]

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 mildly out of place in the hotel foyer, still trying to decide how he wanted to approach this. Approach that thorn in his side the size of a prong on an antler.

Saying that he was grateful would be a step too far, not for someone so.... dubious at best. How could Lucifer be anything but suspicious of this sinner?

Maybe if Alastor was a little more stupid, maybe if he did anything but wear that mask of a smile, maybe if he made mistakes Lucifer could pick at, then the King wouldn't feel so uneasy having someone like that so close to his heart: Charlie.

His little light could preach a real convincing argument, a good story that made you want to sit up and listen. Once she stopped speaking at you but to you personally, that is. A gift of the mind and heart nurtured by her mother, taught by the very best on compelling performances... Except to the Princess, it was all in truth, sincere vulnerability and hope for all on display.

With Charlie, it was everything but the very soul itself, leaving the likes of Alastor the Radio Demon to attach themselves to that.

Lucifer had shared his reservations in the past with her life's mission; his deep unease, about all the implications and truths involving their "people". Both before and after Lilith stopped touring. Even finally explained the unique circumstances of the Pride Ring sinners and the Exterminations... All for naught.

It's easy to be "supportive", to buoy her up and bolster that red-hot passionate fire to give out good to the world, encourage her to continue breaking out into song and showmanship flare, make the soul thump and feet stamp in tune... all to the beat of unsustainable naïvety. Get the Princess attached to gain her implicit trust and gain that "love" that makes a person do anything for their "friend". Their enabler.

Lucifer knows well the precarious position he stands in, how easily he could be sidelined as a distant observer in her self destructive life again... and be replaced from being father and guidance to follow. Left only in formality, the King of Hell she could always call on and bend the ear to. That was all.

So, here he was, in the midst of this lion's pit, with only his wits about Himself, knowing very well how he must tread in Charlie's "territory" with one of her "people". No killing, no maiming, no real overt "threats"; Alastor untouchable — for the moment.

But just like anything in this life, including Lucifer Himself, this sinner was replaceable. And in battles of words and riddles, threading the thin line between truth and misdirection, he could maintain the veneer of polite civility with the best of them. Heaven knew well the path unspoken and the smiles that hid strife underneath...

Alastor wouldn't be making any deals anytime soon with that ghastly chain around his neck, but Lucifer didn't need that. Only a few chats, a few answers, a few insights on Charlie's left hand man, and how his... indispensable assistance could be outshown and made redundant.

“Ah, look, it's our local neighborhood friendly hotelier ! You look unoccupied. And it seems you now have a guest... You'll indulge me, of course?”

@radioiaci

[sirserpentine]

Plotted starter for @radioiaci

"My love, humour me for a moment," Pentious begged from his upside-down recline over the other demon's lap. He had pretended that their Stay in the bedroom all night to read books and snuggle while sipping tea-date was exactly that. Simple and lovely and entirely ordinary. But it was a brilliant ruse, all to hide the secret vacation plans Pentious had in store for later. Ones he had been working on for quite a long time by now.

His tail joyfully whisked as he hoisted himself around to poke Alastor's chest with his book of choice; Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days.

On the nose. He always was.

"If you were able to spend... ssssay, two days back on Earth, where would you want to go? What would you want to do?"

[heliacalxrising]

@radioiaci

Lucifer thinks perhaps that maybe his...encounter with Alastor had been the wrong way to go. It's another to confess developing feelings for someone who most likely does not return those feelings; it's entirely another to end up having sex with that person, and then end up feeling worse than confessing.

They don't really speak to each other again for almost two weeks, and that's mainly due to Lucifer feeling so embarrassed that he avoids Alastor like the plague. No one seems to think anything's off, which is a minor relief, because he doesn't have the words to explain, or the energy to try.

It's better to try and be busy, so that he can be too tired to do anything else when the days are over. But his brain's reverted back to insomnia, haunted by all of his mistakes and racing thoughts and wondering why he's always been the anomaly. Why he's the one that's on the outside looking in, despite how desperate he is to be included. He's just...too much.

It gets to the point where Lucifer spends three days in his room simply because he doesn't want to leave it. He assures Charlie he is fine, he just needs some time alone, and then he's laying on the floor staring up at the ceiling in silence for hours.

The third day finds him plucking at his violin just for something to do before a knock comes to the door. When he doesn't answer, the knock comes again, so he sighs, putting the violin aside and pushing himself to his feet, going to unlock and open the door, only to freeze when he sees Alastor standing there.

"Oh!" His face immediately flushes. "Hi..."

[alteregozowie]

The radio tower's somber silence is interrupted by a spatial rip, a jagged green portal sears across the wall. Many eyes were behind the tear's darkness, glowing, itching to climb out and onto the tower's floors.

But only one pair of reddish pink orbs walked through, with a hum of a tune and a twirling crackle of his microphone cane. The portal sealed itself behind him almost like a zipper, as they heard the disappointing shrieks of those who couldn't join him being swallowed up as it closed.

"A little tidier than my own, how utterly boring," as the very familiar figure gazed over his surroundings. "Where's the character? Where's the pizazz!?"

With a flick of his ear, he turned to look at his soon to be opponents, that signature yellowed grin widening.

"Well, well! At least my opponent has some class, if only in a physical sense," he said, looking over his striking resemblance. He gave him a sneer, then changed that tune once he saw Rosie.

"My dear, how unfortunate for you to be caught up in all of this. It breaks my heart," and he puts his hand over his chest in his theatrics. "And how truly unfortunate that I be the one that could end it all."

Then he laughed, the radio feedback more apparent now.

"I must admit, even I didn't know what would become of our 'happy' couple. I was getting worried that I'd be left out in all the fun!"

He tapped on his microphone, and they watched as his antlers grow double in size, followed by sickening cracking sounds as he twisted and contorted into the eldritch horror that they saw before them.

"So let's not waste any more time and get started...."

.̷̨̣̟̲̳̑̓̏̓.̸̗̳̝̫̮̼̫͐̈́̿̌͠.̸̨̱̜̼͖̫̻͖́̀͛͜͠.̷̳̓́̓̏̈̓̌̐͋̚.̵̱͓̈́̉̃̀̑̈̏͜͝s̴̪̠̀̎͂̊͊̊͛̑h̸̨̤̰͎̘̥̫̓̉̿͗̍̓̑̄ą̸̝̖̹̭̥̜͖̭͕̆͒̍̄̀l̸͚͕̼̹̟͖̰̦̕l̴̘̀̏̎̽̈́̃́̈ ̸̹̫̪̺͌̓ẉ̶̊e̵̠̺̱͌͋̎́̏̈̕͠?̵̜̩̣̈́͆́

@radioiaci @cannibalxroses

[the-devil-less-known]

He was fine. He was fine. He had been completely and totally fine —

Until he heard the sounds Alastor was making, clearly barely keeping it from flowing back up himself. And then, at that point, it was just his overthinking mind working against him (the same as it would in any timeline, it seemed) by being unable to let go of the imagery and disgust it invoked.

Lucifer mirrored him on the other side, gagging and inhaling between wet coughs. Already his hands instinctively move to take off his life jacket, like it might do anything to help him catch his breath and keep from losing his stomach, breaking out in a cold sweat.

It's a losing fight, him swallowing bile and chancing a brief glance at Alastor in an attempt to check on him, before it's game over from actually seeing the guy heave, and a rainbow waterfall of nasty proportions hits the sand.

Absolute WORST. -10/10. Never again.

Somewhere in the midst of selecting his choice of glow-stick concoction, Alastor began to realize that this was... a terrible idea. And yet a challenge was a challenge. And as he'd said: he was no quitter.

The cups were knocked together with a flourish before he was outright chugging the contents of his own, not bothering to put any blockage between himself and the full tilt nastiness that was the mixture Lucifer had made.

He only just managed to swallow it back before he was coughing, sliding the cup away from himself on the bar as he turned his head to continue to hack into the sand beneath their stools.

It sure was threatening to come up - but he willed it down, knowing full well that he consumed flesh and viscera on the regular. He could handle this.

But give him some time to not be actively choking on what he'd ingested.

Awful.

[infernal-blaze]

Starter for @radioiaci

It had been almost a full day since Fizzarolli last made an appearance. He was tucked away behind the door of his hotel room, unwilling to come out. He couldn't be around prying eyes- not when he was in such a pathetic state.

The imp was curled up into a tight ball on his bed, jester hat thrown haphazardly beside him. Tears dripped from his face as shaking, metal claws gripped tightly at broken horns. His tail was wrapped stiffly around his legs as his body shook with a sob. Fuck, he was a mess.

There was a nasty gash in his left prosthetic limb- one that would spark and glitch any time he went to move the arm. It hurt, but he refused to take it off. His jester outfit was covered in rips, dirt, and splatters of blood, though he had yet to decide if that blood was his or not.

It had been a pretty shitty day. At the request of Mammon, Fizzarolli had put on a show in the Greed Ring. The show itself had gone well enough, but the crazed fans of Greed decided to play with him afterwards. Fizzarolli could still picture the moment a sudden shock hit him, temporarily disabling his prosthetics. Then, out of the shadows, came his assailants.

Fizz screwed his eyes shut, curling more tightly into himself. The sudden knock on his door, then twisting of the door knob had him lurching forward, snagging his jester had with a sudden sense of panic. The hat was only just barely pulled over tattered horns before his visitor entered the room.

[sweetandsoursaws]

@radioiaci

“Ey, mate, tall ears antlers fella!” Lark darted over from across the street, ears back and tail streaming behind him. Glanced around for potential people with knives before letting his ears pop back up and giving a grin. “You seem like an upstanding citizen of hell, right? Only the cool sins? Are you cool?”

[circus-frog]

Starter for @radioiaci

Fizzarolli's connections to the Sins could be incredibly useful from time to time. His main employer was Mammon, but he also technically worked for Asmodeus. Sort of. He would do performances for the Sin of Lust's clubs from time to time. He didn't know the specifics, but Mammon had made some sort of deal with the other Sin in order to get Fizzarolli custom prosthetics. All he knew was that he was under contract to work in Lust whenever Asmodeus asked- which, surprisingly, wasn't very often. Kindness and understanding were always offered to him when he worked with Ozzie, which was a stark contrast to Mammon. He didn't understand it.

Long story short, Fizzarolli was technically employed under Asmodeus, which meant that he could legally request an Asmodean Crystal.

Claws tapped lightly at the blue crystal within in grasp, eyes bright with excitement. It was a smaller crystal in the shape of a heart, which happened to fit perfectly into the little heart-shaped crest on the front of his jester hat. He pressed it into place with ease, the crystal shifting its form to fit snuggly with no concern that it would fall out.

Fizzarolli was in a bubbly mood when he finally made it back to the hotel. With his tail held high, he searched all of Alastor's usual spots until he managed to find the man in question. The imp lit up, skipping over to Alastor's side with an excited grin. He was practically vibrating by the time he made it there, tail wagging at high speeds.

"Al! Clear the rest of your day! We have something to go do!" Fizz grabbed at the deer's hand, already busy trying to tug Alastor towards the direction of his room.

[penanceisthecure]

@radioiaci

Falcata was seated in the lobby, as they like anytime the lobby is empty or close to it. Gave the illusion of being less of a recluse without actually having to socialize.

There was an ornate sign that was newly placed that said "No portals in the lobby!" Pretty clearly Lucifer's style. Had the apple iconography and everything.

Despite that, Falcata was stretched out on the couch, shoes on the cushions, a rift open above their head, eating a bag of popcorn while they watched whatever was on the other side. Chillin. Figured they'd hear Lucifer coming if he was around, that guy was NOT sneaky. He burst into every door like he was making an entrance.

Alastor was trickier, but after a few weeks here, Falcata was starting to think that if he was going to get on Fal's ass for anything, he would have by now. As long as they don't fuck up his breakfast again.

[duckduckluce]

@radioiaci

Lucifer had a long day smiling at sinners and pretending to ca- attempting to care, and actually engage with them and their problems. He should care more about his people the way Charlie does.

But they're so....eugh. Exhausting. What a mess.

But hey, he's done for the day! Back to the hotel, now he can do something much more his speed. Walking the halls and finding little things here or there to upgrade. This hallway could use a little love! Conjure a quick pedestal with a nice flower arrangement here, do a little repair on the carpet there(how'd it get torn up?? It was JUST installed), relocate this junky old radio... Ah, yes. This is his true calling. Charlie will be so proud. Hells Greatest Dad, 10/10.

[the-devil-less-known]

Reclining back on his trusty wicker chair, Lucifer absently rocked in time with the music carrying through from the radio's speaker. The Tree was quiet and attentive, for the moment, murmurs only the faintest whisper in the back of his mind. He still wouldn't be able to sleep, regardless, so he relaxed in the greenhouse with a glass of cherry mulled wine.

There was the hope that between the warmth in his hands and insides, paired with curated music, he might want some shut eye... Not so, however. It just made him want for company instead of tangling himself too deeply in the well worn path of useless thoughts.

And this late at night, there was someone who was very conveniently awake.

Said someone during this late hour was also entirely aware of the deserted nature of the castle. Also was not the type to spread idle gossip of a notable person's absence. Furthermore, this particular individual had visited twice before on Lucifer's invite, though once was more out of necessity than luxury's sake.

The fallen considers it, as he emptied his glass and the show draws to a close, last call playing before the off-air tunes were put in place...

...the worst Alastor could say was 'no', right? Maybe point out the... questionably appropriate nature of one adult inviting another back to their place at such a late hour. Especially when taking into account how isolated Lucifer's estate was. Not that he had any murderous intentions, or figured that Alastor would give two shakes of a rat's ass even if it was a plot for a quick homicide. It wasn't, for the record. But it could be—

"Shut up, Tree. No. No death for you." The murmurs pleaded with him, and Lucifer stands with all the exasperation of a parent being asked for the upteenth time for a second helping of desert, setting the glass on the table. "Not today, or any day, never day. I have no cheese for your whine, so you can stop, thanks."

Someone else's voice would be nice for a change, and his eyes drift over to the radio again, listening to the bid of a good night... What was the harm? They would stay well away from the inner garden, and he had polished the music room's floor as recently as last week. It could be nice, the demon could say 'yes' as much as he could say 'no'... And wasn't that a pleasant thought?

Enough of one, that Lucifer stands as bold as brass in front of Alastor's oh-so-very-familiar-for-no-reason-in-particular door, and knocks lightly. Ta-ta-ta-tap? Anyone willing to answer?

@radioiaci

[mysteriouslyhopefulstranger]

Closed Starter with @radioiaci from here.

Alice and the Mystery Skulls Inc. were fighting a jubokko, a Japanese vampire tree. Apparently, the Mystery Skulls gang had encountered her before. Their kitsune mascot, Mystery, had created her eons ago, and she needed blood, thanks to him. She was back once again, but she had another face to fight.

Unfortunately for Alice, the tree managed to catch the red head in a spot that she couldn't see. She gave Alice a deep cut in the torso. The team had to wrap it up and take her to a hospital, despite her fearful protests.

Alice laid in the emergency room, drifting in and out of consciousness. The faces of the doctors and nurses were blurry. Living doctors and nurses whose intentions she couldn't sense.

"Nng...Huh?!" Well, she did sense something, and it wasn't Lewis or Mystery. It was malicious. It was powerful. It was looming over her.

"N-no...!" She clenched her bed sheets.

[the-devil-less-known]

"And so are you," is the retort Alastor receives for the observations, tip of Lucifer's tail flicking like the tongue of a snake. He wouldn't deny it, but he most certainly wasn't the only one! Grumbling into the man's collarbone, "And so do you, too, Alastor. Your deductive skills astound me."

Infuriating, even when injured. Even unintentionally.

Though Lucifer can't stay too pouty when he does get his answer acquiescing to staying to rest more and stay over another night. Certainly more than a little pleased. It spoke some undertones that Alastor liked either the planetarium or spending time with Lucifer more than he let on, even given the circumstances of last night. Maybe it was obvious when the man kissed him, but to willingly spend another night over despite his workaholic tendencies and need for privacy...

He wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth for this one.

"Done and done, though, is the excuse for you or Charlie~?" As if Alastor hadn't already made up his mind. "I can take care of the details, easy-peasy. She mentioned calling back later in the day to check up on our progress, so I can tell her then to hold off on returning with everyone. Something, something, issues connecting with the main line. Reformating whatever configuration is set up with a backup power source in case another issue crops up."

They would be busy tomorrow, but he's not all that concerned. A well could be made, easily, that he could pour excess magic into and have it stored until needed... Which, honestly, wasn't a half bad idea to have anyway. Any number of uses could come from that, including defensive measures....

The fallen shakes his head to clear away his distraction and continues, somewhat sheepishly, "I'll sleep with you, sure. Nothing like a good nap after a hot bath and on a full stomach. It'll give me time to really clean this space while you're occupied, the blood stains are a bit stubborn."

It is a strange sensation, as one who has never permitted anyone (save for one specific individual who will not be named) to get this close to him to the point of near intimacy. He is not sure how else to describe it, this warm sensation that billows from his chest down to his extremities as he feels the weight of Lucifer pressing down on him in a comforting way. Like a weighted blanket - made of flesh and blood. The pressure is an added benefit, permitting him to take in a deep breath and let it out in a self-soothing gesture as he absently listens to Lucifer's goings-on.

"I am not hard pressed to go back to my own bed specifically," he answers with some confidence. His room is nice - it is effectively what he now considers 'home' in the loosest sense of the word. But where they are now is just fine too, providing a nice ambience to his attempt at brief relaxation and covering him in something akin to familiarity.

And it seems that Lucifer is not keen to permit them to be immediately separated. He finds himself agreeing, to some level. Not because he feels as though he needs constant monitoring - he is fine - but... For some other reason.

Perhaps that same sense of 'familiarity'.

"...You are tired."

An observation made when Lucifer makes an attempt to hide that yawn to no avail. Unsurprising, if Alastor truly had been out all night. Lucifer had no shortage of adrenaline-fueled moments. He must be exhausted.

"You need to sleep."

It is a statement that he offers instead of providing an immediate answer as to whether or not he'd prefer having the other in immediate proximity for an extended period of time. But another day does not sound... terrible. Alastor does not often take breaks. It is always work. Work, broadcasting, patrolling, business, drinking, in between bouts of sleeping in a drunken unconsciousness to avoid the nightmares. But to simply rest and relax is... not familiar to him. And he nearly balks at the very idea.

But it does sounds nice - when murmured against his throat while his senses are nearly entirely full of the Devil in his casual embrace.

"...If you can come up with an adequate excuse and you can give me your word that it will not only be me resting, then I am not... wholly opposed to remaining. For just one more day."

Just one, he thinks.

Creating a habit... an addiction... It is dangerous.

[sirserpentine]

@radioiaci asked:

It's been some considerable time since their... rendezvous. And he would be lying if he said he was not actively thinking about the bite more often than he really should be. The thought alone - coupled with the fact that he knows there are stitches yet to be removed - carries him towards where he figures Pentious to be, peering from over the other Sinner's shoulder. Prime real estate, he thinks, chasing the briefest of urges (though likely the most foolish) to lean and give that shoulder just - A test bite. Catching himself, however, before he goes too deep with it, offering his usual easy grin once he is noticed and leaning upright once again. "Just testing your level of awareness in your surroundings.~" 🦌🔪

A loud yelp betrays the serpent's surprise as a hot breath grazes his neck. The tiny screwdriver he has been using to pick apart his pocketwatch raises to the air in defense of the intruder who Pentious clambers up to face.

Oh?

How unexpected it was to be surprised while working at his desk in the airship, in his shirtsleeves and goggles upon his eyes. Surprised with the threat of teeth upon his shoulder, nevertheless.

Though, since it was Alastor, maybe it should have been expected.

"Ah-, it's you. Hello," Pentious stutters, raising his goggles to his forehead and lowering the inaffective weapon as he gawks at the other Demon, illuminated by the light of the sunset shining through the ship's painted glass windows. It takes a short moment for Pentious to think of a good reason why The Radio Demon would ambush him all of a sudden. Then he remembers.

Though he's never forgotten that meeting they had shared. Quite the opposite. It's been plaguing Pentious' thoughts a bit more than is proper. An uncertain smile widens on his fanged mouth. The mouth that had...

"Has it already been two weeks?" he asks, before the thought can entirely carry him away. "Blimey, time certainly fliesss,"

[dark-ambition]

@radioiaci continued from X.

As the playful taunt from Alastor’s voice came, Pentious felt himself seethe with anger, with nothing short of sheer rage. The wrecked remains of his airship laid scattered around him in a pile of glass and warped metal, months of work down the drain in an instant all thanks to the insipid deer’s foul magic, and Alastor’s mocking taunts did nothing but goad his own already stewing ire. His hood bristles hard, his pupils shrink as his teeth grit in a visceral snarl, pulling himself from the ground in which he had crawled out of the wreck of the ship, and in one swift movement, he’s dug his hand into his inner coat pocket, pulls free a fancy gilded revolver, cocks the hammer, and aims the barrel down toward where Alastor stood, firing a shot without a single word.

If the damned deer wouldn’t take him seriously, he simply would have to prove how much of a grave error that would be.

[infernal-blaze]

My part of an art trade with @radioiaci! Just a couple of boyfriends having a completely normal dinner.