#§radioiaci§

[the-devil-less-known]

“Maybe,” he allows, fighting to keep his smile from growing and giving him away then and there. His tail wags behind him, swirling in the water as he lathers up the fur with more bodywash. Certainly not beating back the allegations of smelling like a lush fruit salad after this. “But I’d rather save that for later and make it worth my while if I’m going to prove you right instead.”

Likely when the two of them were laying down again in a nest of pillows and blankets, freshly washed and dressed and fed, recovering from the night’s stresses in the comfort of a soft bed and skinship… if it would not be too presumptous to ask for such things, of course.

As much as the King so enjoyed having the last word, quick with his wit and silver tongue, mentions of being rewarded, even in jest, make him go golden and quiet, huffing and puffing as he mumbles something inaudibly. Try and play it off as he might, the point does go to Alastor. Lucifer holds no particular expectation beyond figuring this was yet another tease like all the rest, nothing so serious or lasting as anything else.

Indeed, he would continue pursuing further encounters under the belief he would need to instigate to gain anything at all; better a thorn than a gnat.

Something that would need to be addressed later, as all else.

He is, once more, careful of the entry wound that seemed to be along Alastor’s side. Lucifer couldn’t recall making it so wide and long, nor so clean in how it curves up like a cut — but perhaps… it was in line with another older wound? He’s read in the past that there are ailments that could cause a human’s body to break down over lack of certain nutrients, like scurvy… Did… Did Alastor need to have more vitamin c…? Well. If the man was already ready going to smell of fruit, might as well feed some to him.

“Want me to get your legs too for me to fully sweep you off your feet, or are you worried I might do something untoward to your hooves next~?”

It is hard to find any semblance of hope for a future. Of any kind, really. His lot is and has always been suffering. Since he was small, it has been the only constant. It simply turned out that he has learned how to wield it like a knife in hand instead of permitting it to beat him into full submission. (Though one may consider his listlessness for many things to be a type of submission. He might not agree.)

Hungry. Always.

But there is the barest sense of security in the way that Lucifer presses his hand to Alastor's skin; something that tells him he can take solace within the touch and proximity between them. Since the burying of claws into his body; into his heart - how can he do anything but offer Lucifer some sense of trust? It is a gift and a service both. He will not squander it.

"You seem like the type to enjoy a good grope," Alastor levels down at him with a small huff of amusement. "Prove me wrong." It is a toothless threat. The radio demon very much would like those hands on him again at some point. Even now, as the other begins the act of brushing those claws through his fur in the gentle scrub, Alastor can feel himself relaxing into them. Much more than he had when they had been at his back. But that is probably obvious.

"Allow me the honor? Hah. I suppose you've earned something for all of this..."

More than something, but he will not go that far as to say that piece aloud. Lucifer will know by nature of their continued rendezvous that something fundamental between them has changed.

For the better. But still changed.

And hell if he is not, after some thought, realizing that he is quite enjoying whatever rubs to his belly are coming along with that scrubbing, his eyes sliding shut as he leans back slightly to appreciate it.

Don't judge him for it. He does not get this type of attention. Ever.

[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?"

[mothvalentino]

@radioiaci

ཐིཋྀ "Here's the thing, Al."

"I would go on a date with you. But only if you promise I won't end up as dinner."

[venisontransmission]

@radioiaci

Why is he being sniffled? That's such a loud sound in his big, furry ears. He's got half a mind to bite, glaring daggers at the other radio demon.

"Why?"

[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

[truearchangel]

@radioiaci.

"Michael. I need your help." It's not an especially pained tone of voice he says it in. But one that is hesitant.

"Not- the usual way. I need you to do something else for me." And not ask questions, he wanted to add, but he doubted he could persuade the other to keep his mouth shut.

He’s immediately suspicious… is that bad? It’s hard not to be, honestly. Despite how close he feels he is to Alastor, there is always that looming reminder of where he is and the type of person the demon is. Rude, perhaps, and he wonders if Alastor has the same thoughts over him. At the end of the day, Michael is an Archangel and one of the strongest angels in Heaven. Does the temptation to try and leech information on Heaven ever cross his mind? Does he fear sometimes that Michael will flip on him and exterminate him?

Questions to ponder, thoughts to consider. In his case, currently, his immediate worry is that the demon wants him to kill someone for him. Not really that big of a deal, if he’s honest, and depending on the soul he would do it. But if it’s competition, like another Overlord? Well, then they cross to the complicated territory.

Michael vowed to himself to not cause problems and disrupt Hell’s balance while down here. He feels that will cross that carefully set boundary for himself. Maybe it would depend on the Overlord? The TV head was out of the question, they run to high a market. The little bobble head female demon he could probably off, the moth not so much. Mothman was tangled in with one of the Hotel residents he learned, so that would complicate things. Bobble head was as close as he could get.

Decision made, he turned to face Alastor finally, whisk in hand and apron covered with—questionable stuff. It was a wonder what he was doing in the kitchen and it was anyone’s guess. “I will kill the bobble head. TV head and Mothman are on you.”

[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.

[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

[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.

[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,"

[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.

[protovoxxed]

👊  [ to  help  my  muse  in  a  physical  altercation. ] 🦌🔪 | @radioiaci

— WE MEET AT LAST! | Accepting

It was almost theatrical if not comical with how he had been yanked up from the near beatdown he was about to receive from an angry Sinner that his Boss had pissed off. It wouldn't have been the first time someone that got fucked over by his boss had sought him out or one of the others close to the overlord and beaten them up, but it was the first time any of them had received help... from an overlord no less.

Vox scrambled to free himself from the deer man's grasp, he had him by the back of his collar and practically choking him as he struggled to get free. He could feel the gills under his coat flex trying to make up for the lack of air coming in through is...mouth... situation... he wasn't entirely sure what was going on with that.

Unfortunately for him, his struggling had only served to make him choke making him give up as the deer overlord disposed of the people who had attacked him. He did still as it had grown very quiet, the screams died down rather quickly.

He took the moment to glance up at the man, the individual looking slightly distorted in his cracked and broken screen. He wasn't too sure what to make of this situation other than that he felt a tad humiliated from how he was being held... and that he was getting lightheaded.

"Can... you put me down...please."