Chapter Text
Alastor would say this was a great day to be held captive in the Vee tower, if anyone asked him. Not that anyone did, since apparently his 'found family' at the hotel didn't give a rat's arse to come looking for him. It's a good thing Alastor is so self-sufficient and self-reliant, because if he relied on that dysfunctional crew, he'd be dead or forgotten by the end of the month.
That being said, today was a very good day, yes indeedy! The seeds of doubt he'd sown among the Vees were almost disappointingly easy to cultivate and will be ready for reaping sooner than he expected. Then again, Alastor had never doubted dear ol' Vincent is the type who said one thing and mean another. He says 'business', yet you can hear 'my business'. He says team the way most people would say 'me Me Me'. He says 'together' like someone would say 'work on my cotton fields'. He says 'partners' the way one would say 'toy' or maybe 'prostitue'.
He says friend and all Alastor could ever hear in that word in Vox's voice is 'MINE'.
It's interesting how the other two Vees seem to be partially aware of it but had let it be this long because Vox's obsessive egomaniacal behaviours had benefited them so far. They let him stand front and center and reap the bullshit he sows and they are content as long as others recognize them in the work they do. However, that's changing now and it started changing the second Vox let his obsession with Alastor take over his common sense.
Alastor, wounded with a broken staff but still managing to hold his own fairly well against three Overlords, giving himself up willingly and allowing himself to be paraded around like spoils of war when there had been no war to be fought?
Anyone with an iota of sense or working eyes would know that it was a trap, that a prideful creature like Alastor would never submit.
Rosie, who currently holds his soul, knows she can't make him submit. Tugging on his chain only makes him more difficult than he already is, apparently, so she knows not to actually incite his spite and instead takes on a more 'motherly' tone with him in hopes of getting a reaction from his 'mommy issues'.
(Alastor has no idea why they're called that, in reference to him, because he's never had any issues or problems with his darling mother. The only issue he sees here is that he'll probably never see her again as she, the saint that she is, ended up in Heaven long before he had the misfortune of making Rosie's acquaintance.)
But Vox's biggest blind spot, even seventy years later, is and always will be Alastor. So he took any bait Alastor dangled in front of him and ran with it, leaving Alastor with a lot of room to work with. And not even Valentino was stupid nor blind enough to fail to see that Vox was pushing them around and aside so he alone can take center stage. Velvette was certainly sick of the way Vox, apparently, randomly switched from treating her like a business partner to treating her like a brat he had to discipline every now and then.
Yes, Velvette complained about the many, many times Vox left her behind to beam away through the nearest camera, making her go back to their tower on her own.
Yes, Velvette did curse up a storm about the meeting with Carminlla Carmine the Vees had returned from yesterday.
She seems to have taken a liking to venting to Alastor, as exasperated by her business partners' horniness as Alastor is of sex in general and they both were beyond Done of dealing with MenTM. Alastor thinks this might be the first time since she ended up in Hell that she got to talk with someone, really talk with them, and now Alastor is beyond glad that he'd taken some pointers from Charlie's little therapy talking points because he could prompt the youngest Vee to rant about anything with barely a few words or even less information shared on his behalf.
Valentino needed even less prompting to be sick of Vox than Velvette did, which was actually quite surprising. Or not, as Alastor had learned, because Valentino is possessive and quite jealous. Be it of his favorite bed warmer, his favorite sex worker or of himself. And he's certainly been feeling quite left out of the bigger production, with Vox not sharing the stage, not even making room for him and Velvette on it to exist in the background, let alone actually stand with him in the spotlight. Add in that Vox was stopping Valentino from ordering Angel Dust to stay in the studio just so Vox can spy on the hotel and you get a very pissy pimp.
(Alastor was glad that he'd never gotten close to Angel Dust to ever share any important information about himself when he heard the effeminate fellow has been hypnotized for months to spy and share everything he can about the hotel. The pink spider had only himself to blame for a lack of any connection between them since he always made Alastor uncomfortable with his sexual advances no matter how many times Alastor told him no. At this point, Alastor thinks he might need to hold a seminar on consent, if he ever returns to the hotel after all this Vees nonsense is dealt with. Actually, even if he doesn't go back, he will hold a seminar because he's uncertain any of those buffoons know how to respect consent to various degrees, always butting their noses into other people's business and disregarding any Nos they get along the way. Charlie and Angel are the worst at it, Vaggie can be quite pushy - and apparently literally, based on the complaints Alastor overheard after the day he'd spent with the Eggs - and Alastor's disappointed to have found out Husk indulged in that idiocy recently, too. He doubts Baxter even cares since the lack of it could get in the way of his experiments, which means he definitely needs a lesson or a hundred. Yes, Alastor might just have to teach all of them to respect No when they first hear it.)
Stirring up trouble and creating distance for the Vees was fairly easy at this point. The smallest condescending smirk or raised eyebrow from Alastor is enough for Vox to go into a frenzy to prove him wrong, belitteling and pushing away his allies. And Alastor had front row seats to all the drama! The rally drama and the Angel Dust situation really did quite a number on this unholy trinity that might just become an unholy duo or maybe even an unholy split by the time Alastor was done with them!
Alastor was just a little bit disappointed he didn't see Lucifer when he was making chaos out there, having been left stuck backstage. The little fool had really introduced his foot to his mouth, but Alastor had heard him singing and had to admit he was rather intrigued by the Devil's vocal and genre range! If they ever get to interact again, perhaps he can bait him into another song and string him along through genres and tonalities? Now that sounds like fun.
And as the proverb goes, speak of the Devil and he shall appear ...
Alastor has no idea how this happened, as he'd been stuck in the Tower all day, but he knows Vox imitated Charlie's voice and now he'd left a drained Lucifer, unconscious and tied up in a sinner? sitting in a regular chair next to Alastor's wheeled one as Vox cackled madly to himself and rushed off to discuss with Carmilla the readiness of their super weapon against Heaven. Alastor just sighed and shook his head at him before his attention was drawn to a groan coming from Lucifer.
Well, it seems that he recuperates quickly! He'd been left run dry by Vox, that much power was needed to just reach Heaven, let alone break whatever shield they seem to have put up, and yet the fallen angel was recovered already! The embodiment of the infinite, indeed!
"Wha- Where am I? Charlie? Charlie!"
"Quiet down, you buffoon," scoffed Alastor, making the bound king's head snap in his direction. Interesting, so even Lucifer can snap his neck at will. Well, he is technically a being of pure light, being fallen does not erase that.
"Bambi? What are you doing here? Wait, is this what Charlie's girlfriend meant by you being unavailable- Oh," the monarch cut himself off, causing Alastor to arch an eyebrow. "Oh, you're in this bind because of me, too, aren't you? Because I made you quit."
Alastor's arched eyebrow went higher as the man seemed to wilt on the spot. That ... was not what he was expecting. Just what has been going on in the hotel while he's been absent? Honestly, they're all like children! "Not really, no," he replied, but the little King didn't seem convinced.
He just chuckled bitterly. "Sure, because you definitely didn't storm off because I fucked up our little game and pissed you off enough to end up in this guy's wretched claws. It's really nice that you're trying to not make me feel worse about all of this, or maybe you're just trying to protect your ego? I don't know what it is, but if it's for my sake, it's not needed. I mean, I called you useless but the truth is ... That I'm the most useless one there is."
Alastor just listened, quite surprised by this turn of events. Sure, he'd heard the commotion and chaos outside, caused by first Lucifer then, apparently, the appearance of actual angels from Heaven, with gift baskets as genocide apologies of all things, apparently. And he's pretty sure he heard something about Lucifer and sinners but the noise was too much by that point and Vox was prone to prattling as is.
"I'm sure it can't be that bad, your Majesty. I mean, no one is more useless than Vox's picture box head!" Lucifer just gave a mournful little chuckle and that's when Alastor realized this might be serious.
"Yeah? How about a king who can't punish his own denizens as part of his own punishment for daring to think humanity might be a little more than just clay dolls for Heaven to experiment with?" At Alastor's stunned silence, the blond gave a wheezing laugh-like sound that made Alastor think the man might be going into hysteria. He probably was. "I mean, how pathetic can I get, am I right? I can't protect my daughter like this! I can't even rule like this! I'm entirely dependent on my reputation to keep sinners in check, but what good is that when your one rock leaves you to rot because you refused to empower her little resistance against Heaven, putting all of Hell and our daughter at risk in case of a holy war? I don't know what she was even resisting against! We don't need anything from Heaven! The overpopulation shit told to the masses was a spin Heaven came up with, not even a very good one! So why was she building a rebellion, you may ask? I have no fucking clue, all I know is that she signed the deal and then I had to do damage control to at least spare the Hellborn but nooooo, that only pissed her off more and then she left! Entirely! I don't think she's in Hell anymore and Charlie didn't want to see me, so what was the point of keeping up appearances, am I right? And now, because I couldn't even do that much, Charlie is in danger anyway! Hell has declared war on Heaven and there's no deal keeping anyone safe! And now I'm here, tired and tied up with the one thing I can't free myself from; why the unholy fuck do sinners even manifest as extending handcuffs!?"
"You shut up, useless monarchist piece of trash," the said extending handcuffs growled and Alastor finally understood the full scope of things.
Oh, this could not be more interesting if he was watching two wives figure out that their one husband has been leading a double life in live time at a fancy party in New Orleans.
Alastor has always been an opportunist. When a good opportunity falls into his lap like a red apple fell onto Sir Isaac Newton's head, he'll take it and use it to his best benefit. He'll squeeze it of every last drop of boon it may have and then some. He'll consume the very core if it would be beneficial to him. Anything and everything that can satiate his hunger for power, for control, for freedom. He'd devour even the branch the apple had fallen from if only he could reach it.
But the thing Alastor finds a little bit pathetic about himself is that, unfortunately, he is also an Altruist. That was not a bit, he fears, for he has always had an unfortunate soft spot for small, defenseless things that could not seize their own fates into their own hands. He always had this need to, unfortunately, assist where he can. The closer the person to him, the less he asked or expected in return. Like the way he never asks anything from Niffty or Mimizy and asks or expects very little of Husker besides a good drink waiting ready for him the next time he deigns to visit the hotel bar. And the more pathetic the thing or person he's helping is, the less he is going to ask for in return.
Like that one sheep sinner he saved from that uncouth new butcher.
Or the hotel, for that matter. He's not sure if he's ever seen something so helpless and pathetic as the Happy Hotel when he'd first seen it.
Lucifer, in that moment, reminds him of that sad hotel, before it's wondrous Hazbin glory.
Alastor sighs and turns his chair to fully face Lucifer and rolled to be seated in front of him. He crossed his legs and used the tip of his shoe to force Lucifer to look up by pushing under his chin. The King froze like - Ha! - a deer in headlights, breath hitching, and Alastor realized just how close Lucifer had been to tears.
Ugh. He was going to be altruistic again.
"How much are you limited in terms of dealing with sinners?"
Lucifer blinked, one eye then the other, resembling an overgrown white frog for a moment. "Uh ... I can't harm them. I can't interfere with their punishments. I can't smite them. That's ... pretty much it. I basically can't do anything to sinners."
Alastor frowned. 'Well, there goes the hopes of him healing my wound. Unless we can figure out a way to do that indirectly, with him not lifting a finger.' He hummed, deep in thought. "And deals? What of those?"
The fallen seraphim gave Alastor a look like he was dumb, to which the deer sinner bared his teeth in annoyance. "Why would I ever make a deal with a sinner, Bambi?"
"How about because a TV obsessed megalomaniac is about to wage war on not only Heaven but your daughter in her entirely unprotected hotel as well?"
Lucifer sighed at that, looking exhausted, more from this conversation than what had been done to him previously. He looked utterly emotionally wrung out. "Listen, Al. I've tried ... a lot of things during my time down here to try and get around my punishment. It's not that easy. Even if we could make a deal right here and right now, what would the deal even be that could fix this situation? How are we, or more likely just you, going to stop a war where one can't touch one side and the other can't stand against the other without surely dying? You think Adam was tough? He's a mortal soul, just old as dirt. There are far more powerful beings up there in Heaven and not all of them are as unable or as guilt-ridden as Sera and I. I don't know if they'll be brought out, but if they are ... I'm not sure even Satan could fight them and survive."
"Then you fight them," Alastor answered simply, getting a dumbfounded look that had him rolling his eyes. "Don't look at me like that. I never planned to pit you against the sinners you can't touch nor did I want to take on Heaven. This might come as a surprise to you, but I am not so arrogant as to be unable to learn from my mistakes. It's kind of hard to be with a wound like the one I have on my chest."
Lucifer winced at that, apparently it was new information to him that Alastor had been hurt in the last Extermination. "Shit, Alastor, I am so sorry for bringing that up-"
"Save it. Unlike Charlie, I don't believe in empty words such as sorry." The Devil deflated again, but Alastor pushed his chin back up with the tip of his shoe. "I need you focused here, Lucifer. If we are to get out of here and save dear Charlie from making another mistake that will doom all of Hell, we ... We have to work together. And we can't do that if either of us spirals or freaks out."
"Why would you spiral?"
"Unimportant~ What is important, however, is the deal I want to propose."
Lucifer gave him a considering look before he nodded, eyes getting sharper, the man finally focusing on something other than his failures. Despite being tied up, he finally looked as regal as the Morning Star, the king of the pit, should be. "Alright. Hit me."
"I mean, gladly, but why would that be helpful in this situation?" Alastor asked with a confused frown, even his smile thinning in surprise by such a random request.
The duck-obsessed fol groaned. "It's an expression of- You know what? Never mind. Give me your proposal, Radio Demon."
Straight to business, as it should be. "I am currently in ... a bit of a bind entirely unrelated to Vox-"
"You mean your angelic wound? I can't heal that-"
"Not directly, I imagine, but would, I don't know, drinking your blood do the trick? Or if you create an object holding healing power do the trick? There are many ways one can go around such loose terms as 'cannot do anything with sinners'."
Lucifer pondered this. "I could give it a shot. It would have to be something created seemingly at random because, well, angelic magic relies a lot on intent."
"So angelic powered weapons also rely on intent? Can you change your intent once it's in the object?" That would certainly help in order to dismantle the Vee's super weapon. Might just stop this whole mess in its tracks before a bigger mess is made!
But the shorter male shook his head. "The intent has to be there when the object is charged with angelic power. Otherwise, it's just neutral power that can be directed."
"Is it destructive?"
"I mean, not really, no. Quite the opposite, actually, it'd lean more towards creation than destruction. Mine especially, since I'm, you know ... the Lightbringer." At Alastor's lack of understanding, Lucifer floundered to explain. "You know, since angels are beings of pure light? And I'm kinda the embodiment of that building block, like cells are for living things? Never mind, not important now-"
"I rather think it is," the deer interrupted. "Because it brings up the question if idly collected power from you could break whatever shield Heaven currently has to protect itself with."
"Oh, that? Yeah, unfortunately for them, the answer is definitely, because oh boy, that thing works on signatures and, well, despite their proclivity to claim otherwise, I am still an angel. It's not a title or designation, it's a species. And I'm part of it, ha ha ... ha."
"No spiraling!" Snapped the Overlord, hoping to stop it before the anxiety set in and he's left with a blubbering mess instead of an ally here. "So, regardless of the lack of intent, Vox can still use his weapon to break Heaven's barrier? But probably not as an actual weapon?"
"I mean, yeah?" The King shrugged. "Doubt they managed to get enough juice for more than that, anyways. Beaming an attack up to Heaven ... that's quite a stretch, Bambi, even for me."
"Interesting. Well, that gives us something to work with! I fear we won't make the deadline before the Vees fire their weapon, but if we manage to fulfil this deal, we might be in time to stop the bloodshed between realms!"
"Then get on with it, bellhop! We don't have all day!"
"Just so! And no, the wound is not the bind I'm talking about-"
"You made a shitty deal?" The incredulity in Lucifer's voice and on his face was actually rather validating, in Alastor's humble opinion, because it implied Lucifer thought so highly of him he never would have guessed Alastor would make such a big mistake. "Unholy shit-"
"The bind is relatively easy to resolve, all things considered," Alastor continued because it was Lucifer who was getting them off track now. "I'd either have to make Vox the most powerful sinner in Hell or give up the power I gained from this deal that I made before even dying."
"How is either of those things helpful to us, Bambi? I just said I can't interfere with sinners' bullshit!"
"If you make a deal with me, a mutually beneficial one, I will give up my power and my soul will be free. No one will be able to tell me what to do, where to go, what moves to make. However, what I require from our deal is that you give me some of your power permanently to make up for what I am sacrificing to stop this realm from being torn apart by Heavenly armies."
"And what do I get in return if we somehow make this deal?" Lucifer asked skeptically. "There's not much you can give me, even with my limitations not to interfere with sinners, I still have six other Rings and species of Hellborn to rule, not to mention my powers that can create me anything I need."
"You don't have the means to protect Charlie from sinners, which is the biggest worry now, I should think." That shut the Devil up real quick. "I am offering my services. Both to protect Charlie now and in whatever future mess she inevitably drags us all into, but also whenever you may need a ... punisher? Executioner? Call it whatever you like, I am offering to be both your sword and your shield, your Majesty, in exchange for the amount of power you think appropriate for that position and role."
"Wait, that's what you want out of this? Power?"
Alastor shook his head with a chuckle, to Lucifer's astonishment. "While the power is a wonderful addition, my true goal is severing all the pesky strings currently restraining me. However, I cannot do that and retain the power I currently possess." He paused, looking at the wall where his Shadow, ever faithful, ever watchful, was hovering, ready to do his bidding. "I only ask that, whatever you may need to do to grant me that power, my own skill sets remain mostly untouched. My Shadow in particular ... Even if you take away my shadow magic, I must insist that my Shadow remain."
Lucifer watched as said Shadow glided over to drape itself over the Overlord, for the first time realizing that it had much more of a mind of its own than he would have ever guessed. "Huh. Never expected that one."
"I'm told I'm rather unique in these matters." Rosie sure seemed to think so. Whether she was lying to butter him up and keep in his good graces because they both know his deal with her is limited and she wanted to make sure he doesn't kill her as soon as he breaks free is another thing. But he had surprised her with how ready he was for Hell, that's for sure.
Lucifer shook his head, still looking kind of astonished. "I half expected you to ask for the throne and crown or access to the other Rings, to be honest."
Alastor grimaced at the mere thought of being tied down by the weight of the crown. No, he much preferred to be a free spirit of chaos. Besides, this deal with Lucifer will be binding enough in that regard, though thankfully the King seemed to be much more even-tempered than one might suspect; that is to say, he can handle a lot of sinner bullshit before he snaps. He probably had to learn that patience and temperament over thousands of years of having to coexist with beings he cannot hurt but must still somehow rule.
"Listen, Alastor ... I don't think a deal will be sufficient for this," the King reluctantly admitted. "I think something much more binding will have to happen for me to be able to safely transfer any of my power to you without killing you or leaving me a writhing mess of pain for going against my no interference punishment."
Now, that had Alastor intrigued. "And what do you propose?"
"Do you two old fucks ever shut the fuck up?" Handcuff sinner asked but they both ignored him.
"An oath," Lucifer said. "It's ... All the Sins, Ars Goetia and other Hell nobility had to swear it, too. You gotta understand, Bambi, I'm about to give you a lot of power. More than a human mind can ever comprehend, probably. You lot were never actually designed to truly come into contact with the divine, we angels always filter ourselves so you can even perceive us without going insane. So, yeah, it's gonna have to be an oath. It will be mutually beneficial to us both, it's not just that you're searing your fealty to me, I'm also swearing it to you. This ... It has to be an equal partnership for it to work, because if it resembles a deal for even a nanosecond, the backlash could be damning to the both of us."
A partnership.
How did it always come back to that, Alstor wondered a bit bitterly.
Anyone who's ever wanted to partner up with him ended up wanting to use him or just used the word to pretty up that they already were using him. The owners of the radio station he worked at while he was alive also liked to call him 'a partner', even though everyone knew those two were tolerating him because he was the best voice to have ever graced New Orlean's airways and the drop in rating their station would get if Alastor was taken off the frequencies kept them 'tolerant' of the Creole young man always ushering away the female workers when one of their more lecherous business partners came to check on their investments. Rosie likes to refer to him as her 'partner in crime' in regards to whatever end goal her insane plan was crawling towards, but Alastor knew that, underneath all the pleasantries and friendly facades, Rosie was as bad as any other Overlord and only saw either a pet or a tool.
Vox had also wanted to 'partner up', but Alastor had had first row seats of what Vox truly wanted even if he'd ever somehow doubted his own intuition about his rejection that day. Not that he had. Gone were the days Alastor had to put up with men like Vox, now being the most powerful sinner Hell has ever seen. He had the power to say no and he'd used it. Though some might consider the way he'd rejected him cruel, Alastor could not give a rat's ass about those people's opinions. They had their own lives to live and make bad decisions in, so they should stick their noses out of his.
Besides, had Vox truly wanted a proper partnership, be it in business or private matters as he and Valentino seem to be struggling to actually figure out even now, he wouldn't have taken Alastor to a bar and then proceed to watch the deer demon drink while not consuming a single drop of alcohol himself. The Vincent of then was a much better manipulator than Vox will ever be today, because Vincent knew how to utilize that big TV head of his to appear 'cute', especially with how big his eyes had looked. And with a dapper look and seemingly gentle demeanor, he could trick almost anyone into believing he was anything but the cult leader that he'd been in life.
But not Alastor.
Alastor had read him like an open book on day one but had thought him interesting, so he'd taken him under his proverbial wing and the rest, as they say, was history.
Too bad they don't have proper time machines ...
Actually, he might have to ask Baxter if he and Pentious perchance worked on one such project in the past.
"Are you having second thoughts? Because I'm sure we can come up with another plan-"
"I'm not," Alastor reassured before the King could start rambling. "Just ... Will it truly be equal? I refuse to subjugate myself to another leash."
The grimace on his potential partner's face was more of a relief than Alastor would ever admit. "I know you sinners love enslaving each other, but that kinda goes against my whole ... thing, you know? So yes, it will be as equal as we can make it without frying your brain or accidentally blowing you up."
"Splendid! How do we do this?"
"We need to exchange vows."
"Beg pardon?"
"We both need to take the oath, Bambi, remember? Equality can't come from an unequal agreement, or else it would fall under a deal. By swearing an oath to each other at the same time, I'll be able to start transfering my power to you. Its inherent healing properties should take care of that nasty wound and once we're free from these stupid chairs, I'll fix your staff, too, as a sign on bonus, how about that?"
This almost sounded too good to be true and, in any other circumstances, Alastor would most definitely look this gift horse in the mouth. However, from a personal perspective and according to personal priorities, Lucifer had much more to gain from this than Alastor, because Lucifer's biggest worry is protecting his daughter. Something he can't do without Alastor, so it makes sense he's sweetening the pot so much.
Alastor smiled, satisfied, thinking this might be the first time a Morningstar properly appreciated his hard work. "I, Alastor, Radio Demon, Overlord, swear to thee and only thee, Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, the Serpent of Eden, Lightbringer, my fealty, to serve as your Executioner, your sword and shield, in the interest of protecting and stabilizing this realm lest Heaven come crashing down on our heads." The green glow of Alastor's magic pulsed with each word and Alastor was surprised to feel it come to him so quickly when he'd had to coax it like a feral cat hiding under the bed ever since his injury by Adam. It bound towards the surface almost eagerly and stretched out, reaching for the other end of a bond not yet forged.
Lucifer saw this and immediately recited his own vows. "I, Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, the Serpent of Eden, Lightbringer, swear my fealty to you in return, Alastor, Radio Demon, Overlord, my Executioner, to nurse your power, your health and our bond for the sake of defending, protecting and stabilizing this realm no matter what's in store. My power is yours and more order is yours. So let it be written, so let it be done."
Alastor arched in exquisite pain the moment the last sound left Lucifer's mouth as a searing heat crawled in patterns across his back. He couldn't concentrate on that and mentally trace them, though, because he felt first the breaking of his deal with Rosie, freeing his soul in the process and taking all the power with that leash as it was chased away from him by unholy flames. Then, after a moment of stillness, new power rushed in, completely overwhelming the space previously occupied by the power from his now broken deal, filling him to the brim and making space for more, more, more until Alastor thought he was going to burst-
And then it settled, calmed down, made itself at home as the fire crawling along his back cooled into nothingness, leaving Alastor heaving for breath on the floor, supporting himself on surprisingly free hands. There were no cables holding him in place and one look at the wheeled chair he'd been rolling around on revealed for it to have melted from where Alastor's back had been against it when the oaths were sworn.
Alastor is not sure if he'd ever felt this alive before.
"Are you okay?" Lucifer asked, peering down at the sinner. He made a shockled little noise, tilting his head not unlike a bird. Or a curious puppy. "Huh. Was not expecting that. Then again, I don't know what I was expecting."
"What are you talking about?"
"You might need a new coat, Al. Or I can repair it when you get this chucklefuck off of me."
"It ruined my coat!?"
"Easy, Bambi, the handcuffs look like it'll shit itself!"
For the first time since Lucifer was brought tied up here, the handcuffs seemed properly cowed. The sinner was shaking so hard that Lucifer was literally vibrating.
"Wait, don't hurt me!" The pleading began as soon as Alastor regained enough of his bearings to stand up, with a little helping hand from his Shadow, which has thankfully remained by his side. He would have been pissed if his oldest, most loyal companion in Hell had been taken away from him. His Shadow was the only partnership he fully trusted ... until now, it seems. Because he's fairly sure those pulses of intrigue he was feeling were not coming from either him or his companion, but rather the King he had sworn himself to and who had returned the favor. This was going to be interesting, indeed! "M-my twin brother is the key b-but Vox has him! J-just get him and you can unlock me and we can r-release the King real proper like, yeah?"
"What's the matter, chum? Why change your tune so suddenly?" Alastor asked, feeling his antlers grow and his eyes turned to radio dials. For the first time in over a month, he straightened to his full height and felt not a single sting or twinge of pain. Lucifer's magic, even when idle in intent, had some beyond amazing healing abilities. And now Alastor had them at his disposal, too. He couldn't wait to test them all out. "Why, just a moment ago you were chirping like one of the Vees' demented parrots, daring to show such disrespect to our oh so benevolent ruler, but now you plead for mercy?"
"I-I was put up to this, I swear-!"
But Alastor showed no mercy, grabbing the sinner with his bare hands and tearing him apart like a child opens a Christmas present.
"Well, that was anticlimactic," Lucifer mused as he ran his hands down his clothes, removing the sinner's blood and leaving the white as pristine as freshly fallen snow. "But it seems to have worked."
"Yes, it seems that we are both free and that the transfer of power was indeed successful!" Alastor agreed cheerily, feeling better than he ever has in his life or afterlife. Lucifer's magic really was something, wasn't it? "Now, repair my staff and fix whatever is wrong with my coat so we can get this show on the road!"
Lucifer stared at Alastor, studying him, before giving a confused chuckle and just shaking his head. "Sinners," he muttered, but for the first time since Alastor's known him, the word didn't sound like it tasted of bile on that forked tongue. "Alright, my Executioner," the Devil himself purred, red horns elongating out of his pasty white forehead, messing up his hair in the process, and his eyes inverted colors. Alastor felt the change not only down to the bone marrow as the air charged with the fallen angel's power, but also coming up from the depths of his soul, the bond they've established through their oath answering the call of the King. "Let's go fuck those Vees!"
" ... Up. It's 'fuck the Vees up', Lucifer."
"Wait, what did I say?"