Let's Make a Deal

by InuVampireChan

To protect Charlie, Lucifer knew he needed to stop acting like the King of Hell and actually be it. Though several thousand years out of the social network tends to make someone rather inept at even the most casual of conversations. If there is one thing the Radio Demon is good at, it's manipulating and reading people. Lucifer figured he could probably use that.

1. The Deal

"You're the only thing worth fighting for."

Now, when Lucifer said that, he had been entirely honest in his words. However, he had not anticipated it would actually come to this. When he had gotten the call to return to the hotel, from Charlie's phone but Angel Dust's voice, he hadn't entirely been sure what to expect. It definitely wasn't this. This weird tension between his daughter and the girlfriend (Maggie?), and Charlie entirely devastated. The last part he had half-expected, considering what he knew of Heaven. The first? No.

The Radio Demon (Alastor he remembered) seemed to be enjoying the show with some sort of sick entertainment. That didn't surprise him knowing what he did of Sinners. The cat at the bar (no recollection of his name if he was even told it) was pouring a lot of shots for people, ignoring Angel Dust's leering and concerned glances (how can he do both at once?) thrown around.

Lucifer tries to focus in on his daughter rather than her friends. "What hap–"

He doesn't even manage to get the sentence out before Charlie is sobbing. "You were right." And wasn't that a sentence he didn't want to hear in his entire life under such circumstances. It's not one he hears often, and it's not one he wants to hear right now. A grimace pulled onto his face and when Maggie (is that her name?) tried to comfort her girlfriend, Charlie flinched away. There was definitely something going on there.

Now was not the time for the; I told you so. Embodiment of Pride or not this was his daughter and Heaven had done to her in part what they had done to him. Ripped her down and attempted to destroy her vision. Lucifer took a careful breath and approached her slowly, picking his words as if he was traversing the Wrath Ring personally. "Char-Char," he tried gently, "You are more brave than any other person down here. You attempted what no one has done in thousands of years and you are making progress. Anyone can see that." His hand reached out and blackened, graying claws gently pushed through her hair. "They just need proof." A Sinner redeemed.

A laughable thought but his daughter doesn't need to know that.

Father of Lies.

Charlie sniffled and another broken sob slipped from her lips. She reached her hand up and grasped at the end of Lucifer's tailcoat, trembling fingers tangling around it. "It's not that easy." She choked out. "They're–Adam said they're coming here next week."

Ah…

Fuck.

Lucifer sighed and crouched down in front of his daughter, wrapping his arms gently around her shoulders and tugging her up against his chest. Slowly, his fingers moved through the back of her hair, cradling her head. Adam is bringing the fight to her? To her Hotel? That would break the agreement if he hurt Charlie. Not that it was decided in that what would happen if a Hellborn fought back. Gray area. He should know better.

"What are we going to do, Dad?" Charlie sobbed out and Lucifer frowned, tension coiling tightly in his body because he just didn't know. This has been getting worse every year, the number of Sinners dying increasing each time. Now they're increasing the amount of Exterminations, taking fights to his daughter and he just–what was he supposed to do?

The sound of radio static coiling around the room set his every nerve alive before he heard that static filled voice. "Why, my dear, we're going to fight of course."

"Fight?" Charlie pulled away from him and stood on shaky legs, still leaning away from her Girlfriend as Lucifer followed suit. He waved his hand and summoned his apple tipped cane, twirling it in his hands as his daughter addressed the Radio Demon. "How are we supposed to fight back, Alastor? No one knows how angels can die, if they can even be killed in the first place."

Fuck. Fuck. Discomfort filled his entire body and Lucifer turned away, twisting the cane tighter in his hands as he took a few steps away from his daughter. Of course the tension in his body drew her gaze like a rubber band being snapped into place and he felt her gaze along his back like a hot coal. "Dad." Charlie called, voice gentle yet pleading at the same time. "Can angels die?" His lips press into a firm line and his grip on the cane turns deadly. When he doesn't answer Charlie snaps her gaze away. "Vaggie?"

Vaggie. Ah Vaggie, not Maggie. The younger angel's voice fills the room. "I don't–I don't know and I'm not sure anyone else does."

"Oh, but someone does." A shadow slips beneath him and expands in front of him, Alastor popping up in front of Lucifer with that cheshire-like grin spread wide across the Radio Demon's face. "Right, your Majesty?"

"Fuck you." Lucifer snapped on principle yet felt everyone's eyes spread to him as he inadvertently basically confirmed what the demon had accused him of. Alastor's grin spread even wider, if that was possible, and he tilted his head in an unnatural way with an uncomfortable cracking sound.

"Maybe later."

And Lucifer has no idea what to do with that response.

Alastor leans against his cane far too contently and immediately he takes a few steps back, which turned into a mistake when he spotted Charlie moving into his line of sight. "Dad, please. I know I've asked for a lot lately but–" she's asked for one thing. One. Maybe two if he counts her wanting him to believe in her. Which he doesn't. She is his daughter. "I need to protect this place."

"Charlie, I can't." The words slip from his mouth and he takes another few steps back, the apple on top of his cane cracking with how hard he's gripped it. His magic was already weaving into it to repair the decoration.

"Can't, or won't?" The Radio Demon quipped back.

Charlie's look turned devastated. "Why? Why won't you help me?"

"It's not that I don't want to help you, Charlie! It's that I can't!" The word was stressed harder this time, more forcefully and he spotted the bit of realization that dawned on Alastor's face.

This time the man pushed off of his microphone cane and twisted it around behind his back, holding it in both hands as he appraised the King of Hell more closely. His words turned mocking. "This is about your agreement with Heaven, isn't it? When our 'oh so fearless' leader decided to let the Exterminations happen in the first place."

Oh, fuck him! Tension coiled in his body again and Lucifer swung his cane out from behind his back, pointing the repaired apple head at the man. "Listen to your own words." Alastor blinked, the grin losing some of its edge as he almost looked confused. Lucifer would think it was an endearing expression on him if he wasn't attempting to prove a point. "Even Heaven needed my permission to enter Hell and do what they wanted, do not test me."

"Ah, ha! So now you want to act like a King. The spineless serpentine that's locked himself away in his own Palace for over a millennia! Do tell me, when was the last time you even interacted with those beneath you?"

"I don't need to interact with the Sinners to run Hell!"

"Do you truly believe that or did your fall scramble your brain as well as the rest of you?"

"Fuck you–!"

"Dad, Alastor!" Charlie's voice cut through them like a swift knife and Lucifer took a few steps back, the horns that had been growing from the top of his head vanishing once more. He took a few calming deep breaths and turned away from his daughter and the Radio Demon, shoving his pride and anger back down where it had clawed its way out from. "Dad." His daughter's voice, calmer and softer this time. "What exactly did you agree to when you negotiated the Exterminations?"

At her question his shoulders slump slightly and he takes another breath, just to ease the tightness in his heart. He doesn't turn to look at her, his gaze focused on the ground beneath him. The odd tiles of the Hazbin Hotel, the weird coloring choice in decoration. He supposed it fit in well with Hell's aesthetics. Reds and oranges mixing together. He struggled greatly to find his voice and when the words started to gather all he managed to choke out was; "It was the only choice."

"What does that mean?" Charlie asked.

When he turned back around to finally meet her eyes, she was watching him earnestly and worriedly. It really wasn't that simple, it wasn't as if he just signed the contract because he wanted to. It wasn't as if he hated Hell and the Sinners so much he wanted to see them suffer more. It wasn't–nothing about that day had been about his hatred of his own damnation and the people he dragged down here with him. Lucifer had tried to explain that to Lilith too and all she saw was what the end point was, nothing at all about what led up to that. Nothing at all about what they had dangled over his head, threatened to do, to the only things that mattered to him anymore.

Everyone else saw it the same way Lilith did too. That Lucifer had been a coward and what he did instead of rising up to protect them was sign all their lives away in a single act a year, a single negotiated part that at least spared the Hellborns. And yes, while that part was public knowledge, it was understood from all aspects of the Seven Rings, there was more to it than that. Lucifer doesn't even know if all Hellborns have been spared every year or if some of them get caught up in the slaughter or not.

Maybe he would know that answer if he attended a meeting or two. Fuck Alastor for having a point.

It is easier though, to lock himself away rather than face his own mistakes. To look at the people he gave free will to who squandered it and destroyed their chance at happiness. This Hell was a prison of his own making, why would he want to go out there and see everything burning around him–

"Dad." Charlie's voice again, firmer this time, and when he meets her gaze she asks a different question. "Why is everyone confined to the Pride Ring?"

And what a question it was.

His gaze adverts and her own words take on a harder edge. "It's in the agreement isn't it?"

"They couldn't have the Sinners hiding in other rings." He finally voiced, tilting his head up to look toward the ceiling of the hotel, as if he could see beyond it to Heaven itself. "Michael said he would make everything worse if I attempted to protect any of them. If I tried to spare anything." His wings burned. "He would rip apart everything I had left while I watched… including you."

As his words trailed off, his voice growing quiet, the dreadful silence was only filled by the weird static that came from Alastor constantly. As if it was something he couldn't control himself. For once, Lucifer found the sound comforting, keeping away the silence from permeating the room entirely at his words. Eventually, even the rest of the hotel couldn't stand it either, and there was a hiss of a breath that left Angel's lips. "Holy fuck."

"I thought," Charlie tried quietly, "you said they needed your permission?"

A huff of laughter fell from his lips, his head falling back down as he reached his right hand up to hold his forehead. Tears burned against his eyes but he refused to let them fall, holding them back with a vicious grip. The same prideful one that's kept him together these past thousand years. "To do this yearly? Sure! I can fight back a few dozen exorcist, can rip that bastard Adam's throat from his unholy fucking neck like he deserves. I can lay waste to countless of those damn fucks. But my brother and his army? Ha–ha! I tried that once before! And they threatened to rip the very foundation of Hell apart and kill everyone at once if I didn't–if I didn't–and then Michael threatened to rip you apart–"

He's cracking, he can feel it. Coming apart at the seams, unraveling beneath every terrible stitch he's forced back into himself. Memories of that day plagued his sleeping hours as much as his waking ones. The chains around his body, his head forcefully pulled back to watch everyone fall around him, the blood that painted the holy realm as they gave everything they had against Heaven's blasphemous shit filled rules. Countless shades of gray that they refused to see themselves.

How can they not see it– how can they not see it!?

"Lucifer." The static grew louder, filling his head and drowning out the thoughts that kept clawing at the surface of his mind, threatening to drag him under. The Radio Demon's hand grabbed the front of Lucifer's shirt and he felt himself pulled into the shadows, swallowed up by a chilling darkness, a sensation he hadn't felt since he was cast from Heaven so ruthlessly. Thrown down into the void to be swallowed by the ticking time bomb that was his own magic unrestrained attempting to consume him.

As quick as the sensation swallowed him though it was just as soon over and Lucifer found himself shoved into an oversized chair. There was a fire to the right of him, giving off a soft green glow it seemed and no actual flame. This was remedied quickly by Alastor who flicked his wrist at the fireplace and lit it up with a green flame. Interesting. His magic was entirely green? It also seemed illusionary or Eldritch in a way, considering that gaudy bar attachment in the lobby and the bayou behind him.

The panic that had been attempting to swallow him seemingly fizzled out at the shift in location, at the different room and the lack of–noise. There was still noise, that ever present static that seemed to come from Alastor himself, low enough that one had to really focus to hear it, but there wasn't voices. Constant chatter, demanding questions, tense atmosphere. There was just the crackling fire, the static, and the quiet presence of the Radio Demon.

Why?

Alastor should piss Lucifer off, and he does regularly, but right now it almost felt as if he was comforting to him in a way. This was not what he wanted Alastor to be, he wanted to take his frustrations out on someone. It didn't feel right though. The Sinner had noticed Lucifer unraveling and yanked him from the situation to put him somewhere calming. To keep him from breaking down entirely in front of his daughter.

This had to be a power play.

Fuck it, he's already seen Lucifer break. The King of Hell pulled his legs up onto the chair and wrapped his arms around them, pressing his forehead down against his knees. Slowly, pulling each one in like it was a lifeline, Lucifer took calming breaths to ease the tension in his heart. For his part, Alastor was entirely silent, moving around the room with only the sound of static following him. He tracked each sound of the Radio Demon's movements, listening to him as if waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop, whatever endgame the Demon had for helping him of all things.

It didn't come through. Eventually, Alastor sat down in the chair across from him and out of nowhere the steady sound of Jazz filled the room in place of the static. Still, Alastor says nothing though, letting Lucifer take the chance to collect himself and ease the tension in his heart. It's so–weirdly considerate for the Radio Demon. He doesn't understand it. Doesn't understand what Alastor is thinking. Why he's doing this. Why he's being so… nice? It sets Lucifer on edge yet in a much more subtle way than he would think. Like it was buried beneath the comforting feeling that Alastor was providing.

As his breathing regulates and his heart calms, Lucifer finally finds the strength to pick his head up. Setting his chin on his knees he cast his gaze across from him at the Radio Demon. Alastor was sitting perfectly in his chair, right leg crossed over the left and a book in his hands. Surprisingly, the book appeared to be a classic. 1818 Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus.

Huh.

"I didn't think that would be your type of book." He voices quietly, watching Alastor's red gaze flick over the book toward him before slowly dropping back down.

"Why not? I often enjoy the classics, far more than anything else. Modern drivel novels are absolutely revolting."

"I meant more the topic of it," Lucifer corrected, "the story centers around the creature rejecting both its creator and the people who perceive him as a monster."

"Hm." Alastor's hair moved on top of his head and Lucifer squinted at the tufts. Were those ears and not hair? "Maybe there is something to be read in that." And Lucifer has absolutely no idea what to do with that honestly. However, before he can even try, the book is snapped shut and vanishes from his hands. "It will need to be a topic for a different day." His hands fold in his lap and Lucifer finds himself the entire center of Alastor's attention. "Are you alright now?"

The King cannot tell if Alastor means that sincerely or if he's asking just to gauge Lucifer's reaction. Still, he cannot deny that Alastor had helped him, and there needed to be some return in that. Some cooperation, no matter how careful he would be in that. "Fine." For the most part, anyway. "Why did you help me?"

The other's head inclines slightly and runs his gaze across Lucifer's body, as if he was attempting to judge the truth in his words. "Why does anyone do anything?"

"Demons. Sinners." Lucifer states, "do things for exchange. Don't fuck with me, Alastor."

The Radio Demon shrugged and leaned forward, resting his arms over his thighs and continuing to observe Lucifer in that calculating way. "I believe we have more pressing matters to discuss, Sire." And he wasn't wrong. "Downstairs, your reaction proved my point. You know how the angels can be defeated. Do you intend on helping our dear sweet Charlotte or watching her fumble, fall, and lose everything she's been fighting for?"

Lucifer narrowed his gaze at the Sinner that dared to bring Charlie into this. Still, he has another point and the King bites back the irritation that rises in him at that. "What part of I can't do you keep missing?"

Alastor hums again, that soft static filled sound. It dawns on Lucifer suddenly, too, that the Jazz music seems to be coming from him. How interesting, so he is a radio as much as he has control over them? "The agreement between Heaven and Hell again? Tell me, Sire, does them increasing and speeding up the Exterminations not violate the agreement in some way?"

A steady blink, golden gaze dragging across Alastor's body before finally flicking away. "I–" hesitation, throat closing up, and he shifts a bit in the chair. As he tries to gather his words, his thoughts and courage, the sound coming from Alastor shifts. Something different plays from his body, instrumental in sound and classical. A piano and a violin. As the sound wraps around them gently it takes a moment for Lucifer to register the sound.

"Chopin." He listens to the music more closely, his eyes falling shut again as he imagines the notes played on the violin. It was his favorite instrument. "Nocturne in E-flat major." He states, humming softly to the sound of the violin.

"Not my preferred type of music, though I'm always more partial toward Jazz than the classics."

"But you play the piano." Lucifer replies, flicking his gaze open toward Alastor again.

"So I do."

"Do you enjoy it?"

Pausing, Alastor seems to consider it a moment and then finally gives a nod. "I do… and I had, hm, enjoyed our duet."

Slowly, a smile tugs on his lips and Lucifer slides his gaze away again. "As did I." Truely, and a part of him really wished to play with Alastor again. He was unbelievably talented at the piano from what he had heard of the demon play. That wasn't a compliment that Lucifer would give out easily either. He's seen all sorts of successful and incredible musicians in Hell, and despite all that Alastor was certainly high up there.

Shifting in the chair Lucifer breathed out quietly. "I don't actually know." Alastor blinked and Lucifer elaborated. "If them choosing to hold the Extermination only six months after the last one violates the agreement."

"What exactly did the agreement say?" The other asked in turn, pulling the King's gaze back toward him. "From what Charlie said, not only did Adam threaten her in Heaven, but he's bringing the Extermination right to her front door. Does that violate the agreement?"

Lucifer pressed his lips together and gave a small hum, thinking back painfully to that day. The idea of them threatening his daughter pissed him right off, but Lucifer had already figured to some length that would happen. Given what he knew of Heaven and the way they treated those who dared to think differently. Who had higher ideologies and beliefs in the world. Who thought of what freedom would look like. Charlie was too much like him. Of course they would try and rip her down.

"Officially," he states quietly, "I agreed to the yearly extermination of Sinners to control Hell's population and the threat they pose to Heaven should they begin rising up. The agreement protects any Hellborn and demons native to Hell. Like the Imps, Hellhounds, and such. Nothing in the agreement says that Hellborns can't fight back, just as it doesn't say Hell itself can't fight back during the exterminations. However," he picks his head up finally and drops it against the back of the chair. "It says very specifically that I cannot fight. I can't protect anyone, I can't help, I can't provide shelter, I can't do anything but stand back and wait for it to end."

Alastor made an interested sound and stood from the chair, stepping over toward the fireplace and leaning against the mantel. He tracked the other's movements with his eyes, watching him closely as he mulled over the King's words. "So then, by that understanding Sire, them moving up the extermination to me absolutely sounds like a violation of the agreement you forged." The demon turned slightly and set his gaze on Lucifer. "You agreed to an extermination once a year, even if they put off the next one a year after the one next week, the fact they're doing it within six months of the last one violates the agreement."

That–actually makes sense. Lucifer had thought that was the case, and while he could argue it should things turn south (which they undoubtedly will with Heaven involved), there was a problem. "Even if I can argue that, Alastor, do you honestly believe Heaven won't find a wording around it?" Slowly, the King uncurled himself from the chair, placing his feet on the floor with a quiet click as he raised his gaze to the demon. "I need something concrete. I need something other than just a sped up extermination. I need intent and undeniable physical proof. Action."

Alastor made a sound of agreement and turned, spinning his hand in the air and summoning his cane. Pressing the end onto the ground he leaned on top of the microphone. "Then we get proof. Tell me, your Majesty, does your agreement prevent you from teaching your daughter how to defend herself?"

A blink, the King's eyes narrowing slightly and he observed the demon with a new light. Clever bastard. "It does not. So what, I teach Charlie and her friends how to fight back against angels and then watch from the sidelines?"

The brief pulse of static, clipping through the classical music that Alastor was playing, and the Radio Demon smiled wider. "And when the First Man does exactly what we know he'll do, when he and his exterminators endanger Charlie, you have your proof."

Swiftly he stood from the chair, white tailcoat falling down to brush against the back of his knees as he turned to face Alastor. Gaze narrowing he took a step toward the other, hands clenching at his sides. "You want me to stand there and watch them hurt Charlie? So that I can have a reason to bash Adam's fucking face in?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

No. No he doesn't.

However, he has an idea to help more than just teaching. It's a very tempting idea, something that is even risky. He's very aware that suggesting this can be bad for him, especially with a demon like Alastor. However, for Charlie? For the only thing that matters to him anymore, Lucifer will do this. The King moved a little bit closer to Alastor, standing in front of the fireplace himself and facing the illustrious Radio Demon. Tucking his hands behind his back he inclined his head back to look up at him. "I lied."

Alastor blinked but didn't appear surprised. Instead, he twisted his microphone up and tucked it in the crook of his right arm, arching an eyebrow down at him.

"When we met," he clarifies, "I said I hadn't heard of you. I have." And this genuinely appears to surprise him, if the slight widening of his eyes and the sharp sound of static popping was anything to go by. Lucifer sighed. "A rising demon, eating overlords to gain power, broadcasting their screams on a radio? I might be out of touch socially, Alastor, but I'm not ignorant enough to not pay attention to the ongoing political fights in Hell. I am still the Devil." He rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "I only said it because I could tell it would irritate you. Truth be told, I actually used to listen to your show."

"Really?" The ever present smile on the demon's face appeared to widen more, stretching to what Lucifer would call horribly uncomfortable levels. "That is fascinating. Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, the Devil himself, used to listen to my broadcast? Tell me, did you enjoy it? Hearing those demons and overlords screaming as I tortured, bled them and consumed them?"

Right, he supposed he walked into that one. Sighing quietly he cast his gaze off to the side at the very strange bayou attached to the room. "The less screamy ones I enjoyed." A soft chuckle left the other and Lucifer turned his head back around to meet the other man's gaze. "Alastor." The demon blinked and he took another step closer. Golden eyes stared up into deep blood red and the King of Hell breathed out a single Hell trembling sentence.

"Make a deal with me."

If Alastor was surprised before, he was absolutely startled now. The widening of his eyes was the first giveaway but it was actually the loud screech of a record coming to a stop from Alastor that actually gave him away. He doesn't even appear to have noticed he did it. He has to be. "Excuse me?"

Lucifer took another step closer, leaving just a few inches between them and kept his head high. "You heard me."

"I did." He confirmed. "I'm just having a hard time understanding. What kind of deal would you possibly want with me?"

"Don't pretend you don't understand how powerful you are." A roll of his eyes and the King finally steps back, putting a bit of distance between them. He rolled his hand in the air and popped his cane into existence, twisting it between his fingers as he turned back around. Standing between the two chairs he tapped the end of his cane onto the ground and rested both his hands over the apple head. "Downstairs, you had a point." He states, averting his gaze slightly. The demon tilted his head to that unnatural angle and blinked. "I know the inner workings of Hell, the political powers in question, most of the overlords and even what's going on in the other rings. I know more than people think." Because he can't not know, far too much of Lucifer himself is wrapped around this infernal realm. But Alastor doesn't need those details. "However, being–isolated, shut in," alone, "confined for so long does cause damage. People don't hold me in the same light they did and socially I am very…"

His lips pressed tightly and Alastor hummed. "Out of practice?" He supplies and the King nods a bit jerkily. "And what does that have to do with me, Sire?"

"You," he states with a sigh, "are unfortunately a very–" he grinds his teeth together, his pride knotting in his throat. With effort he swallows that down, reminding himself he was putting his daughter above his status as the Sin of Pride. "A very charismatic person." He continued, ignoring the incredibly wide and pleased grin the demon now had. He could see every single one of his sharp pointed teeth. Coughing awkwardly he pressed on. "Alastor, when this goes to shit and we both know it will. I'm going to need to step more fully back into the role of King of Hell." Out of his self-imposed isolation, out of his depressive confinement, out of his Palace of Ducks.

Alastor, who was very clearly enjoying this, hummed happily and walked around the chair, tapping his microphone against his shoulder. Lucifer tracked his movements, turning his head to follow where he was going. "What high praise, Sire, but I'm afraid you haven't reached your point yet. Care to give it a shot?"

He didn't deny that Lucifer was wrong, so he could see the problems in this too then. Picking his cane up the King turned to face the wandering demon again. "If you would be willing to accompany and help me in my role, I will lend you power."

Immediately Alastor stopped walking, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes widened. The radio static seemed to cut off entirely as his body locked up, sharp eyes staring at the wall across from him as his head tried to wrap it around what Lucifer just said. What he offered. It seemed to be taking a rather long time. Slowly, the classical music started to play again but this time it was coming from an old fashioned radio on the table in the corner rather than the demon himself. "Surely you know this deal greatly benefits me more than it does you, and what pray tell does the first part actually mean? What would my role be?"

"Obviously I won't make the actual wording so open-ended." Lucifer stated and Alastor hummed, turning his head to meet his gaze. "As for your role, I suppose it would be more as a–manager of sorts. A social battery in a way. I can force meetings, but no one actually wants that. You have connections I just don't anymore. Like with the Overlords. And a personality that draws people in, makes them listen."

"You need someone who can talk, who knows the more underground details as to what's going on. Is that about right?"

"I need someone to ground me." He clarifies, pressing his lips together displeased. "For a while, that was Lilith. She was always better at interacting with the denizens. At knowing what to say to get people on her side. I–" he pulls in a breath, "struggle with finding the right words and I burn out quickly. Especially after everything that's happened."

Surprisingly, Alastor didn't seem displeased by this explanation of what he would need to do. Instead, he leaned on his microphone again and hummed. "So I help you function as a normal King of Hell, and you give me power?"

"With stipulations." Snapping his cane up into his hands he walked closer to the other, twirling it behind his back. "Don't think I'm that stupid to give you my power without conditions, Radio Demon." The grin falls slightly but he doesn't seem entirely annoyed. Maybe a bit disappointed that Lucifer isn't that stupid. "With the condition that my power is used for the purpose of protecting the hotel and my daughter, you may pull on it as long as the agreement we have stands." The other's eyes narrowed slightly and Lucifer nodded. "Yes, I understand that is still a gray area. I'm sure you can find a hundred and one justifications for using my power to kill any number of people. So, one final clause. If at any point I believe you are misusing and manipulating the agreement, myself, or my power, I can end the deal."

"One point added." Alastor stated, pushing away from the microphone. "In the event you choose to end the agreement, I want a full explanation for why. If I do not agree with your justification of the dissolution, you can't break it."

Lucifer frowned, not liking that at all. "You do understand this deal still greatly benefits you far more than it does me, correct?"

"Oh, absolutely, Sire. Why do you think I would want to hang onto it so tightly?"

It was, though, truly the only option he really had. Never in the entire history of Hell has Lucifer ever connected someone to him in this way. He's not ignorant to deals, he has made his fair share though he's always been incredibly picky on them. The term a deal with the devil was conned for a reason. However, he's never had it to where a demon, a Sinner of all people, could tap into his power to boost their own. The limits of what Alastor could do with him as a power source should be terrifying.

He drummed his fingers against the cane behind his back and thinned his lips. Technically, his power as the King of Hell would allow him to motif and even break the deal at any point, though it would hurt like a bitch. Forcefully breaking deals always does, it's why he very rarely does so. And if it was public knowledge the King of Hell could break any deal that exists, he would have people banging down his door to end agreements they regret. So there was that at least, if this does go absolutely horrible for him.

Fine. For the benefit of his daughter's wellbeing, to protect her and her dream, he would do this.

Shifting he swung his hand out and offered it to Alastor. "Do we have a deal then, Alastor?"

The wide and manipulative grin was back again and immediately his hand was taken in a tight grip. Green magic flowed from Alastor's hand as his own gold slipped from his. Tangling around each other there was a strong sharp pulse of magic through the room from their binding agreement, the entirety of Hell trembling as their King forged his pact. He watched Alastor's horns grow on his head, his eyes twisting into radio dials as the reds bled into blacks. He could feel his own form shifting, the horns that grew on top of his head and the subtle twisting of his tail behind him. Slowly things settled, the magic slipping away and Lucifer took his hand back quickly as his form retracted.

Alastor wiped his hand on his jacket and hummed again. "How can angels die, your Majesty?"

Taking a breath he picked his head up to meet Alastor's gaze. "Angelic Steel."

It was ironic, wasn't it? That the only weapons that could kill angels were the very steel their own were crafted from. Damage from angelic weapons to demons was a death sentence, a poison practically. Even the smallest of wounds would slowly damage the rest of their bodies, their souls, and end their lives. For angels specifically, it was the only thing that could cause them harm. Though they could heal from lesser wounds caused by them, major ones like decapitation for example was a death sentence.

Even Lucifer himself was not immune to this. Though he could regrow limbs, heal small wounds and even stop open wounds from bleeding that demons would be unable to–if they cut his head off or ripped his heart out and stabbed it, the Fallen Archangel would die. For the executioners, it was the same. They would perish from severe wounds made by angelic steel. This, when finally delivered to the residents of the Hazbin Hotel, was apparently incredibly shocking and hilarious to a few specific ones. Vaggie specifically demanded to know how no one figured this out yet.

She didn't even know she could be harmed.

Angels were immortal, not invulnerable. He knows this very well.

"So what do we do now, Daddy King?" The spider demon draped himself across Lucifer's shoulders and a very tense, very uncomfortable laugh slipped from his lips. Gently taking one of the many arms touching him he removed them from his person and took several steps to the side, nearly bumping right into Alastor. Why, just why with the name?

"Well, as specified before, I can't actually help you fight. However, there is nothing that says I can't prepare you." Clapping his hands together he turned his head to Vaggie and Charlie. "Vaggie dear, I would like you to go to Carmilla Carmine and talk to her about getting us weapons. She has the highest supply of Angelic Steel in the entirety of Hell. Her people collect it after each extermination to use."

"And she's just going to what… give it to us?"

"Oh, no, absolutely not." Lucifer wasn't stupid. "Which is why I need to send you to convince her to help us."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

A smile flicks slightly on his lips. "I think you'll figure it out. Carmilla is not an unreasonable person." Despite the displeased look on Vaggie's face, she doesn't argue. Satisfied, he slides his gaze to his daughter. "Charlie, Alastor has an idea on how to get you people to help us fight. You'll go with him."

"Okay," she bit her lip and looked nervously between the two of them, "what are you going to be doing?"

"I'm going to work out a training regiment." Turning his head a bit he looked at the rest of the residence in the hotel. "For those who wish to stay and help. None of you here have fought an angel before, it's different than fighting your own kind."

"So you're going to give us lessons?" The bartender questioned.

Lucifer nodded his head. "If you choose to stay, I am. None of you signed up for a fight against Heaven, you signed up with the idea that you can maybe rehabilitate your ways and get into Heaven. I understand that. If you want to leave, then you should."

"Dad." Charlie whined, a growing panic look in her eyes.

"Charlie, I understand you want everyone here to stay. Even the–odd snake and slightly murderous maid," no slightly about it she was downright unhinged. "But you can't make people fight." Pulling a smile onto his face he reached his hand out and gently squeezed his daughter's shoulder. "Trust me that while you're gone, I will take care of your friends. However they need to be." If they need somewhere to go, or if they're choosing to stand and fight.

Another uncomfortable look, her gaze darting around at everyone's face, before finally nodding. "Alright, I trust you." Stepping away she moved to fall in step with Alastor and headed for the door, Vaggie trailing behind them. Hopefully they figure that out, he doesn't want Charlie to lose Vaggie, she very clearly cares for her very deeply. It's a good thing, being as Charlie was a Princess, certainly a more–royal entanglement was supposed to be forged. Lilith had thought that through deeply, nearly engaging her to Leviathan's son. Never one to lose an advancement in life, something she can use, but Lucifer never saw it that way. Not to mention he hated the Sin of Envy.

More than that though, being who he was and what caused his fall in the first place, the Devil believed in free will. Believed in the ability to love whomever they wanted, and to choose that which the heart desires. Lucifer wanted Charlie to love freely, whoever that might be, rather than being forced into a royal engagement. Humming he dismisses the thoughts with a twirl of his cane and turns to face the remaining people in the room with him. "So, who's staying?"

The first one to react was Niffty, the small bug sinner, whose gaze turned positively blood thirsty. "Stab, stab, stab!"

As it turns out, much to his actual surprise, no one left. Not even the weird one-eyed Cyclops like sinner demon. Her name was, apparently, Cherri Bomb which was the strangest name he's heard anyone take down here. It's not real, much like Angel Dust's name, but while he could pry into any of their personal information with his role as King of Hell he figured that was both pointless and a waste of time.

But while none of them left, actually training with them was rather painful. They were messy, chaotic, uncoordinated and reckless. Lucifer was more just playing with them than he was actually training at one point, attempting to mock them into losing their temper and actually hitting him. Which didn't work out, all it did was piss them off and make them more messy. Well, he supposed there was a lesson in there to learn too. At some point during the training exercise, Angel's phone went off and Lucifer found himself incredibly annoyed when the demon was whisked off to "work" like the call of whomever that was somehow overruled the King of Hell.

As he was yanked away Lucifer settled at the bar with the demon he learned was named Husk. A Sinner whose soul was owned by Alastor from what he could see. Interesting, he wondered what Husk could have possibly got in return for selling his soul. The bartender poured Lucifer a drink, slid it across the bar and the fallen angel snatched it up to take a sip. "I can't actually get drunk." He states, drawing a narrowed eyed look from the bartender. "Buzzed, but not drunk. The only real thing that affects me is Bee's Beelzejuice." Which he rarely indulges in. "And I'm not a big fan of the taste of that." Bitter, at least to him.

"Hm." The bartender swiped a cloth across the counter and his gaze darted unwillingly toward the door to the hotel. Ah, he was worried about the spider demon. Sure, Lucifer could hear how irritated the voice on the other end of the line was. But Angel himself didn't seem to think he was in any danger. Certainly, if he was, he wouldn't go–right? Or at least, wouldn't have answered the phone. If he could, that is.

He is tempted to pry, but before he can the door to the hotel swings back open and Charlie comes stumbling inside practically glowing with Vaggie at her side. Good, good, so they made up to some level, or were starting to. He finished his drink, swung his legs over the side of the barstool and slipped to his feet. Stepping over toward his daughter he spun his cane in his hand and tapped it against the ground, leaning onto it as he gazed at his daughter.

"Worry not, dear, everyone agreed to stay. Angel got called away, unfortunately." Something unpleasant spread across his daughter's face. So, he might need to pry after all. "We did some training exercises that were–dreadful for lack of a better word. Aside from that… ha-ha… positively delightful little hellion." His gaze flicked up toward the Radio Demon. "Where in Hell's pits did you find that small bug sinner?"

"Niffty? Well, you know, around." Alastor made a show of checking his nails, hiding his chuckle behind some static.

Lucifer hummed and darted his gaze back to Charlie. "Well, she might stand a chance, the rest really need some training. How did it go on your end?"

"We'll have our weapons." Vaggie stated plainly and provided no further comment. Well, he doesn't need to know the details of that, he was quite glad that she succeeded was all.

"We also have the support of Cannibal Town." Charlie added, taking Vaggie's hand in her own and lacing their fingers together.

Another nod of his head and Lucifer straightened up, twirling his cane in hand and tucking it behind his back. "Brilliant. Well, I'm going to call it a night then. Charlie dear, I'll be back in the morning to help train. I have a bit of work to do in preparation and by then Carmilla should have delivered her weapons." Which should help with the whole training thing, if they were practicing with the weapons they intended on using. His daughter spared him a glance, a small smile on her face and then Lucifer allowed his magic to swallow him up.

Rarely does he sleep anymore. At most he gets a couple hours a week and the rest of the time he was up awake working on what he needed to. So for the next several hours, instead of sleeping, Lucifer fell into the familiar comfort of what he always did. Creating. He crafted ducks, little rubber ones that had hidden abilities in them, long into the night hours of Pentagram City. He lost himself in his work, shaping the little creatures, until the red sun peeked over the edge of his window and Lucifer realized large amounts of time had passed.

Gaze lifting from his work bench he glanced around the room, at the tall piles of ducks, the untouched bed and family portraits that hung on the wall. His gaze flickered over one, of little baby Charlie and Lilith, before he turned away from it entirely. Only for his gaze to land on his hand. The glittering, golden band that still wrapped around his finger. He wondered, especially more often lately, why he continued to wear it. Separation was not the true word of what went between him and Lilith. Divorce was such a mortal term, it wasn't as if they were actually married under the eyes of his Father. Lucifer probably couldn't step foot in a Church without Heaven believing he had alternative motives.

Lilith was the Queen of Hell purely on a positional standpoint, her place beside him which she no longer occupied. As far as Lucifer was concerned, Hell no longer had a Queen, just as he no longer had a Wife.

After all, only one of them fell from Heaven. Only one of their existences crafted the realm they now lived in. Only one of them fueled this entire realm and it certainly wasn't the woman no longer in it. Hell was as much a part of Lucifer as he was it. The unholy realm fed off of his power as much as it pushed through him, and he was the standing pillar that held it together. The amount of power that crushed through his body was too much for even Lucifer himself to handle, which was why certain parts of it he had locked away. Like the ability to look at the Sinners and see why they're down there. To read their entire lives in a single glance, the things they desired and the sins that drove them here.

Hell, the twisting dark magic that pulsed through the realm, that turned him into this had corrupted parts of his holy magic. Like his ability to create, what he was born to do, and now he could no longer craft living things. Normal ones at least. Like his precious ducks, the first creatures he ever made when he was still in Heaven. Now, when he tried, all that they turned into were these vicious, twisted, ugly creatures with sharp snapping teeth. Creatures that wanted to feed on flesh and blood. Chimeras were a specific specialty of his, when his creativity had gotten out of control and he felt that pulsing, aching desire to create something alive. He regretted doing it as soon as they came into existence.

Nothing alive he creates anymore is what it once was.

He detests feeling like the place he exists inside. Hellious. Monstrous. The villain.

His phone goes off, the alarm he set to remind himself to return to the Hotel blaring through the room. He cut the classical music off with a flick of his wrist, silencing the phone and changing his clothes. Dawned in the familiar red and white suit, he stands to his feet and vanishes in a twist of red and glittering gold. Popping into the middle of the lobby he tucked his hands behind his back and glanced around the area he was standing in. He spots quite a few things, like Husk at the bar and Cherri Bomb pacing worriedly around the living room.

Beside him against the wall was the delivered weapons from Carmilla and that has him wandering over instantly. Flicking his wrist a knife appeared in his grasp and he cracked one of the crates open. Vanishing the weapon once done he pulled back the lid of the crate. Peering inside he blinked at what was in there and then reached down, plucking out a sharp Angelic Steel dagger. Twirling it around in his hand he gave a small hum, feeling how light yet clearly well balanced it was.

Turning the weapon toward his palm he dragged a thin cut along the center of it, watching the beads of golden blood that prickled along the thin mark.

"Dear Sire, do be careful with those."

Lucifer is ashamed to admit how he actually flinches at the sudden voice near his ear. Whipping his head around and accidentally driving the dagger harder into his flesh, he glanced up sharply at the Radio Demon. Alastor grinned, bright and alarmingly cheerful for someone who's faced with another person that's holding a dagger that could both poison and kill them. Point in case, Lucifer yanked the dagger from his skin and twirled it around, pointing the now golden bloodied tip at Alastor. "You really want to sneak up on a man with a Heavenly weapon?"

Alastor grinned wider and reached his hand out, gently pushing the blade away from his body. "What a short temper you have, your Majesty. But maybe tuck that away for now. Are you not here for help? Dear Charlotte is in the kitchen cleaning up from breakfast with her significant other. You wouldn't want to ruin her good mood with bloodshed."

"Charlie would understand if it's you." Lucifer twisted the blade away and stuck it in the side of the crate, his hand already having healed from the wound he had inflicted upon himself. "Though you and I should definitely talk."

"Oh? About what?" Alastor stepped to the side and moved a few steps away, twirling his microphone cane into existence.

As he leaned against it Lucifer took a few steps closer, narrowing his eyes at the Radio Demon. "The deal, Alastor. I need–" he takes a breath and lowers his voice, gaze focused intently on the sinner. "I need to warn you about my power." Alastor narrowed his eyes slightly, the grin losing some of its edge but never falling. Before he can question what Lucifer means, the Devil moves to explain. "When you pull on my power, you need to be careful how much of it you pull into yourself."

Leaning on his cane, Alastor tapped his fingers against the microphone and tilted his head at Lucifer. That odd, unnatural angle cracking his neck as he did so. "And what, pray tell, will happen if I just suck all of your power into me, Sire?"

Without hesitation, the King replied; "You'll burn."

His words earn him a narrowed eyed look, doubt etching into every single inch of Alastor. Unperturbed, Lucifer shrugged his shoulders slightly and moved away from the Radio Demon toward the bar. If Alastor believed him or not was of no burden to him, the warning had already been delivered. If he pulled too much of Lucifer's power into him to fuel his own eldritch power, he would suffer the consequences of it. Besides, there is nothing in the deal that states he can't cut off the magic that Alastor pulls from him. If he worries about how much the Radio Demon draws from him, he can stop it.

Reaching the bar Lucifer leaned against the top of it and set his gaze on Husk. "Hey, is Angel back yet?"

The cat sinner paused in what he was doing, cleaning a glass that was already thoroughly clean (so he was watching him and Alastor), and narrowed his gaze toward Lucifer. "No. He didn't come back last night. Sometimes, that's not unusual. It depends on the mood that Valentino is in."

Blinking, he tilts his head slightly. "Sorry, who?"

"Valentino?" The King blinked again and Husk gave him a bewildered look. "Porn studio owner? One of the Vees? Moth demon? An overlord?" He sounded like he was getting desperate at the end for it to connect in Lucifer's head.

It did not.

When was the last time he actually checked in with the current Overlords? He thought he knew them all. "I know Vox from his growing influence around, he owns VoxTech, right? And the shorter woman is always attending Overlord meetings as his representation. Is she actually an Overlord herself?" A frown pulls on his face, confusion dancing in his gaze as he glares at the top of the counter.

"Indeed she is. Much to her amusement." Beside him Alastor appears, leaning against the bartop himself and cane resting in his arm. His gaze danced across Lucifer amused, the grin wider than it had been a moment ago. "The Vees are all Overlords, owners of their own respective parts of the entertainment industry. For example, since you were on the topic, Valentino owns a porn company which employs Angel."

Lucifer gave a small hum and turned to face Alastor. "How, exactly, is Angel employed? What Boss keeps their workers out for over tweleve hours? I understand this is Hell but Angel doesn't seem like the type to enjoy forced labor to this extent."

Alastor looks like he's enjoying this conversation too much, and before he can respond, the bartender cuts in. "Valentino, the sick fuck, owns Angel's soul."

"Ah." This doesn't surprise him, though it does piss him off. Lucifer is a firm believer of the consequences of your own actions down here. Angel is an adult, he made his choice, he got himself stuck in this contract. However, even Lucifer can see just from this small conversation, that Valentino is abusing that contract. Not that it's surprising, they are in Hell. But, unfortunately for Valentino, he needs Angel. Turning he leaned on the counter of the bar again and gazed at Husk. "What do you know of Angel's contract?"

Husk frowned at him, gaze narrowing and Lucifer can see him debating whether or not to actually tell him. The cat demon's gaze shifted across him, dragged over toward Alastor and then immediately he was speaking. Interesting that. "Not much, Angel doesn't exactly vocalize that part of his life. All we know is that Valentino can do whatever he wants to Angel as long as he's in the studio. Outside it, he doesn't control him."

"What a glaring loophole." A stupid one, if you ask Lucifer. "Where is the studio?"

"You're not going to go there, are you?" Husk asked, worry etching into his body. "Your daughter tried that once, it didn't end well."

"Well, there is a big difference between Charlie and I." Pushing away from the bar he placed his right hand on his hip. "My daughter is not the King of Hell."

Husk didn't look impressed, he certainly didn't look like he wanted to tell Lucifer where Angel's studio was. Honestly, he was tempted to force the answer from the Bartender, but an arm looped through his own and Lucifer's gaze snapped up to the Radio Demon surprised. Alastor, willingly touching him? "The Studio, Sire, is inside V Tower. Would you like a lift?"

Being swallowed up by the shadows this time, with Alastor's grip on him, was a lot less suffocating. They popped back up in front of the most gaudy looking Tower he has ever seen and this was coming from a man obsessed with apples. Apples and snakes but still, far better than whatever that was. He pulled his arm from Alastor and tucked his hands behind his back, glaring at the tall pink and purple building in front of him. "I heard your return broadcast." He voices suddenly, drawing Alastor's gaze over toward him. "Your argument with Vox. Not that it was really an argument, you completely dangled him like a toy and used his own ego against him. It was entertaining."

The compliment almost seems to make Alastor uncomfortable, but he covers it well. The grin grew wider and amusement almost danced in his eyes. No point in denying it now, he had already told Alastor he used to listen to his broadcast. He had missed whatever started the argument, seeing as he didn't own a TV. Stuff melted the brain, besides Vox was using it to control people. The last thing he would do was put one of those in his house.

"How kind of you, your Majesty." The Radio Demon replied and Lucifer hummed.

"So I heard the tea." He replied, entertained as he glanced back at the other. "Did he really ask you to join him? And did you turn him down because his choice of style is," he flicked his hand toward the obnoxious tower, "questionable?"

Humming slightly Alastor turned his head away and looked at the building. "He did ask me to join him, but the reason for turning him down is simple. I detest everything about them. Especially that revolting modernization of theirs." Yes, Lucifer can see that. Radio Demon through and through. "Now, Sire, what is the plan? I do assume we are here for a reason."

"Oh, we are." Lucifer replied easily, a grin stretching across his face. He rolls his hand in the air, pops his apple tipped cane into existence and starts toward the building. "Hope you're looking forward to causing a scene, Alastor. I intend on using you briefly."

An amused hum comes from behind him but the demon follows easily, almost eagerly if one looks closely enough. He steps up to the front door of the building and they slide open, allowing him inside along with Alastor. A glance up shows the many, many security cameras in place and as he suspected the moment that Alastor was inside all of them snapped toward him. The Radio Demon almost seemed to flicker when Lucifer watched him, buzzing around the edges with radio static that danced all the way to his shadow.

Huh. "Wow, you take the whole abhorrence of modern technology very seriously. Wait, is it intentional or is it something you can't control? Appearing on modern things like video?"

"Why of course, Sire, after all–" he snaps his neck to the side, grin widening dangerously, as if it might split his face finally. "This face was made for radio."

So, it might be a bit of both, is his answer. "Sure. Big scary Radio Demon, please distract your stalker for a few minutes." He slides his gaze toward the front desk. "I need to have a chat with someone."

Without waiting to see if Alastor was going to listen to him or not, he made his way up to the front desk and leaned against it. His short stature made that a bit difficult, pushing him to his tiptoes as he gazed over the edge of it toward the demon on the other side. "Excuse me, what level can I find Valentino on?" The imp raised their gaze, narrowed it in on Lucifer and made an expression that very clearly read; why would I tell you? Fucking figures. Sighing he pushed his wings out, allowing him to hover enough over the desk he can reach his hand down and grab the front of their shirt.

Yanking the Imp toward him he allowed his form to shift, horns sprouting on top of his head and hellfire lighting his red eyes up. Baring his pointed teeth at the creature he let out puffs of smoke that spilled between them. "I asked the first time. I won't the second." The Imp swallowed nervously, sweating in his grip as they withered in his arms, fear filling their face before finally they nodding their head rapidly several times.

Letting go he dropped the creature back into their chair and retracted his form, landing on his feet as he smiled much more warmly yet dangerously at the creature. "Fantastic. Now, what floor, Imp?"

He's given some sort of pass, a badge of sorts, that would take him to the porn floor. What a horrible sentence he's heard spoken out loud. Holding it in his grip he turned to face Alastor, who was indeed tormenting the cameras pointed at him with his shadow tendrils and laughing maniacally at them. Vox himself had yet to make an appearance, and Lucifer wondered if he wasn't actually here even though he still seemed in control of every single piece of technology in the building. If they acted quickly they could get through this before the television demon got back from whatever was occupying him.

"Alastor." The call brought the Radio Demon's attention over toward him and Lucifer waved the badge. "Come on." Turning away he made his way to the elevator, scanned the badge and stepped inside. After a moment, the demon slipped in beside him and Lucifer scanned the badge again to make the elevator move. "Vox not here?"

"Hm. Not yet apparently. From what I gathered, he's on a mission from Velvette. Some sort of," he waved his hand in twirl, "broadcast. Whatever it is he does."

"Mind control." He shrugged as the demon narrowed his gaze on him. "Hypnosis might be a better term. Works in hand with his technopathy. When I say television rots the brain, I mean that quite literally in his case."

"You don't know who Valentino is, but you're very well educated on Vox's abilities."

He nods his head slightly. "A demon like him I have to be. Considering what he can do can mass control the populace. It seems though, the power only works on those weaker than him and he isn't a particularly threatening individual. I could erase him if I wanted." Lucifer hissed the last part under his breath, fingers clenching around the badge in his hand tightly.

The doors dinged open finally and Lucifer made his way out, listening to the sound of Alastor following steadily beside him. They passed several Imps who looked at them curiously, twisting to watch Alastor more than Lucifer himself. He wonders how many of them actually remember what he looks like. There had to be some benefit to him being out of the limelight so to say, and this might be one of them. They reached a door that had a very gaudy moth design on it and Lucifer grasped the handle, yanking it open and stepping inside.

Spotting Angel was far too easy, the exhausted spider demon was sprawled out on top of the large bed in the room, several much larger demons crawling off of it and covered in–he doesn't even want to think about it. The room was the same ugly shades of color as the building itself, gaudy blankets, clothes and decor spread across the place. There was some hideously pink shade of shag rug on the floor, accompanied by an even gaudier chandelier that hung above the bed casting the only light in the room that wasn't pink.

The moment that Angel's eyes spotted him the spider demon tensed on the bed, yanking the robe near him up and quickly strapping it onto his body.

This was what helped him find Valentino. "Angel, baby! What are you doing? We're not done yet, darling. Surely you remember what we discussed earlier, right? Can't keep the audience in suspense!"

Lucifer cast his gaze over his shoulder and found it actually absent of Alastor. He frowned a bit, twisting to search harder for the Radio Demon and felt a sudden tug on his leg. Casting his gaze downward he saw a small tendril wrapped around his ankle, merged into his own shadow. Alastor might not have gone far, but he had left his shadow with Lucifer. Of course the Radio Demon would be here with his own intentions. Well, whatever it was, he didn't particularly care.

"Ah–haha. Well Valentino, you see, um–" Angel fumbled for his words and Lucifer took pity on him.

Spinning in place the King of Hell let his shoes intentionally sound across the floor as he walked toward the moth demon, drawing the pimp's gaze sharply over toward him. He saw the irritation that filled their body, the way their eyes danced across his own but took in more firmly the crown on top of his head fitted to his top hat. "First the daughter, now the King himself. Greetings, your Highness, what can my lovely studio do for you?"

"First of all," he quipped back, stopping a bit from the sinner. "It's your Majesty. Second, I'm afraid I'm here to take back Angel Dust." Twirling his hand he spun his cane in his fingers and pointed the apple tip toward the spider demon. "I need him and you've kept him here far beyond what is normal working hours."

"Excuse me?" Valentino replied, laughing mockingly as he lounged in his disgusting director's chair. "Angel is my employee, I'll keep him here as long as I want. As long as I have use for him. Which, clearly, I still do."

A laugh fell from the King's lips and he dropped his hand down, turning to face the moth fully. "Did it sound like I was asking?"

"You might be the King of Hell," the irritating demon snapped back, finally sliding from his chair and standing to his full height. What was with Sinners being stupidly fucking tall? Everyone in this goddamned hellhole towered over him. He watched with an irritated gaze as the pimp used that disgusting height to lean over him, clearly enjoying having the higher ground at the moment. "But you have no power here. Angel belongs to me and me alone. If I want to drug him, I drug him. If I want to work him to death, I work him till he breaks. If I tell him to bend over fucking backwards and take sixteen cocks up his fucking ass, he'll do it. Won't you, Angel baby?"

The deeply uncomfortable look that crossed Angel's face tugged at something in Lucifer's chest. Pity? Disappointment? Upset? Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure. Angel was one of Charlie's friends, someone who mattered to his daughter, mattered to Husk and Cherri at the hotel. He was someone who hadn't flinched at Lucifer's presence and even gone as far as to call him when Charlie was deeply upset by what happened in Heaven. He might have ended up here by his own actions, he might act creepy as all fuck, but Lucifer doesn't believe he's as disgusting as half the people who end up down here.

He didn't, in Lucifer's opinion, deserve to be tortured further by this fucking bastard of a demon.

In one moment Angel was fumbling for an answer while Valentino steamed where he was, and in the next Lucifer had moved. He grabbed the moth demon by the robe he was wearing, flipped him over his shoulder and slammed him onto the ground. He pressed his heeled boot to the moth's chest, keeping him in place and leaned over him. So much for his high ground. "I don't have power here, hm?" He questioned, waving his hand over Valentino's chest and popping the pink chain into existence. One end was connected tightly around Valentino's chest, and the other end dragged across the room where it was closed around Angel's neck.

"Well, look at that, I do." He mocked, twisting the chain in his hand and caressing the lengths of it gently. This was Angel's soul chain after all, tangled in the deal he made with Valentino, he doesn't want to hurt the demon accidentally. But the power that came from holding it? He wanted Valentino to tremble beneath the realization of it. Which he was, quite visibly too, and that was making Lucifer so very pleased. He felt the Overlord attempt to get up, to gather some control back over the situation, but Lucifer dug his heel into the demon's chest and he crumbled back down.

Holding the chain still he leaned closer toward the other. "You will give me Angel's contract."

Watching their eyes widen at his words was very entertaining, as was the sputtering he did in response. "Wait–wait! You want a whore? I have so many others! Tell me, your Majesty, what's your type?"

A laugh fell from his lips, chaotic and uncontrolled. It might have even been seen as unhinged. Yet, he reigned himself in a bit as he tilted his head toward the moth. "You fucking delusional bastard. I'm the devil! The King of fucking Hell! I could have whatever I want."

Narrowed eyes glared up at him, defiance shaking the demon's core beneath him. "Yet you're asking for fucking Angel. Clearly, you can't have everything you want."

This smug bitch thinks he knows everything, does he? Lucifer's hand clenched around the chain in his grip and he pushed himself upward from where he was leaning over the sinner. Breaking contracts is in his control, doing so from the contract itself was far easier than the chain. The stronger the demon too, the more power it took from him. Valentino might be a joke of a demon, but he was an Overlord. He had power, and he had a lot of contracts beneath him from what Lucifer could feel.

This was going to be painful. Knowing what he need to do, he breathed out a whispered name. "Alastor." The shadow beneath him shifted before slowly stretching up and draping itself over his shoulders. He turns his head slightly and casts his gaze at the grinning creature. "Remember our agreement." When he did this it would snap his strength from him, and if he collapsed here it would be bad. Both for him in general but his appearance as a well put together powerful King. The shadow for their part didn't reply, but a thin tendril did wrap around his waist. That was interesting.

Turning his head back around he closed his fist tighter over the chain and a manic grin spread across his face. "Do scream when this hurts." Valentino's eyes widened and Lucifer started to feed his magic into the chain in his grasp. Inch by inch he bled golden energy into it, watching as it wrapped around the long bright pink chain and started seeping into the links. Cracks began to form across it, not unlike that of a spider's web or a trees branches. He could feel the bond fight back, the push of the sinner's magic against his own. A painful, burning sensation started to gather in his chest and throat. He could actually feel beads of sweat on his forehead, slipping down his neck and vanishing beneath the collar of his coat.

The shadow's hold on him tightened when his energy seemed to leave him, as if it could actually feel that, but Lucifer simply pushed onward and fed more of himself into the bond between Angel and Valentino. Though it felt like it took far longer than it actually did, in reality only a few minutes had passed, the entire room frozen by the display of power from their very own King. The chain started to crack, the sound echoing across the room like a brick dropped through sheets of glass. With one final push from him the chain SNAPPED with a loud sharp sound and beneath him Valentino let out that satisfying scream of agony. His contract severed from him by force.

At this point the only thing actually holding Lucifer up was Alastor's shadow and he took a few minutes with the support of the creature to gather himself back together. When he felt as if he had enough of strength to stand on his own, he took his foot back from Valentino's chest and stepped away, walking across the room over toward the bed as the shadow vanished beneath him once more.

"Angel, are you alright?"

The young demon was shaking on the bed. He knows that breaking the contract so roughly probably hurt him to some degree, but it also depended on just how deeply that chain was attached. How long it had been there. Having your soul owned and then forced back at you so suddenly had to be uncomfortable at least. He was probably high too, which wouldn't help. Sighing lightly he moved a step closer and offered his hand out for Angel to take. "Let me take you out of here." Especially since he seemed minutes away from sobbing.

Slowly, almost nervously, his hand was accepted and Lucifer allowed his magic to wrap around the three of them, not that he thought the shadow needed his help in teleporting. He dropped them off in the streets outside of V Tower and then waved his hand to summon a portal to the hotel. His magic was being difficult, his body struggling against him and just the act of moving them down here and calling a portal of all things was making black spots dance along his vision.

He held himself together rather well, that or Angel just wasn't paying close enough attention to him. Motioning toward the portal the demon cast him a small glance before slowly making his way forward and stepping inside the Hotel. The moment he was in there Lucifer's power cut off and he felt it snap shut, his legs finally no longer having the strength to hold him up. He didn't hit the ground, surprisingly, instead he felt something much more firmer than a shadow looped around his waist.

"My, my, that was quite the show you put on in there, your Majesty." Alastor's radio crackling voice filled his ears and Lucifer breathed out a tense breath, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to still the spinning of his head. "I had speculated you could break contracts, but to actually see you do it. Hm, how fascinating."

He can breathe easier now and with some remaining strength he straightened himself up slowly. "We should get out of here before the Vees come out." This was also not a conversation to have so openly in Pentagram City. As he went to wave his hand and summon another portal, the tip of Alastor's cane smacked onto his wrist and lowered his hand down.

"Now, now, Sire. You barely have the energy to stand. I believe using more magic will just drain you further. Allow me to give you a lift again." The grin is very wide, incredibly amused, but Lucifer doesn't fight back. Instead, he willingly loops his arm through the other's and leans into his side. The shadows swallowed them up and moments later dropped them off in the middle of the hotel lobby.

He shakes off the arm easily enough and straightens his clothes, stepping away from Alastor as his body steadily starts to balance itself again. When he picks his head up he finally spots Angel at the bar, sobbing his entire heart out it seemed, and a bottle of something in front of him. The others were gathered around him but the moment they felt Alastor and him return, he had several sets of eyes on him.

Uncomfortable, the King took several steps back closer to Alastor who gave an amused chuckle under his breath. Angel was the first to move, standing from the barstool and moving toward Lucifer. "Hey, Short King, I just–" Angel's gaze flicked toward Alastor before slowly moving back to settle on him, tears again gathering in the spider demon's eyes. "What ya did, even if it wasn't for me, I'm not that stupid but I am so–"

Lucifer held his hands up. "Listen, before this gets any more uncomfortable, you're welcome." He assumed that was what the other was trying to get at. "You can return the favor by never mentioning this to anyone." Angel frowned a bit at that and Lucifer sighed. "If every demon in Hell knew I could do that, we'd have people banging on our front doorstep demanding I do it for them too."

"Well–" Charlie started and Lucifer snapped his gaze over toward his daughter. "There might be a tiny problem with that." She continued awkwardly before forcing a laugh at the look on Lucifer's face. "Dad, you kind of did all of that in front of a live broadcast."

"Excuse me? Wasn't he–" a brief motion toward Angel. "Recording or some shit?"

"Actually, we were doin' a livestream." Angel clarified.

Which did nothing for him. "A live what now?" This question was thrown out as he glanced over at Alastor.

"A dreadful new creation, Sire. You see, like my radio broadcasts, which I do live, these picture box obsessed podcast wannabees can sometimes do their little annoying shows live. Which apparently is what you walked in on."

"A live sex show." Angel stated, folding his arms across his chest. All four of them. "Which also means everyone watchin' my show saw you break my soul contract with Val."

"Fantastic." Lucifer deadpanned, lowering his head down into his hands. His hat slipped from his head but he never heard it hit the ground. "I really didn't think it through. He just really pissed me off." Sucking in quick breath he snapped his head up to meet Angel's gaze. "Not that I regret it! I went there with the intention to help you. That fucking bastard would have been set on fire and burned like the damn bug he is if I didn't want to make him suffer instead." His horns had started to grow on top of his head, fire curling in his gut at his own words. Angel took a small step back and Lucifer felt his hat slip back onto his head.

"Well, no changing it now, Sire. What's done is done." Alastor stated, patting his top hat and taking his hand back.

"Maybe it'll be good for the hotel!" Charlie added, slipping up to his side and throwing her arm over his shoulder. "And it would help more if you stayed here, with us, maybe?"

"Ha–haha–Charlie honey?" Reaching his hand over he patted her back. "Maybe not right now. Besides, we still have to fight for the Hotel, remember? And we only have four days left before this week ends. But tell you what. After the extermination, I have an idea on how I can help lure some customers in and to clarify what happened with Valentino."

"Really?" The excitement in her voice was visible in her eyes, his daughter practically vibrating.

Nodding his head he turned his gaze to look up at the Radio Demon. "If Alastor would help me, we can do an interview on his show. Answer a few select questions, draw attention to the Hotel and offer people to stay for rehabilitation."

"Oh, that sounds great!" Charlie squealed but Lucifer kept his gaze on Alastor. His expression gave nothing away, the wide grin still present on his face, but there seemed something like excitement in his gaze. Whatever that was for though, either the thought of getting Lucifer on his less than tea like shows or just holding his radio show in general and drawing more eyes to it. Who knows, really, but he didn't decline the idea so that was something.

Turning back to his daughter he patted her shoulder. "Now, Angel needs to rest so he can train with me. I'll take the rest of them outside and work with them."

Training with people equipped with Angelic Weapons wasn't the safest idea that he had honestly. They couldn't hit him, though their aim was getting better the longer they trained together. Husk specifically was making impressive progress, but Cherri wasn't too far behind him. She didn't seem to know how to aim anything that wasn't a bomb though, which wouldn't affect anything on the actual battlefield. They don't exactly have Angelic Steel bombs, though that was an idea he might pass off to Carmilla when this was over.

He had crafted out a rather fantastic training exercise if you ask him, but being who he was and even more so who his twin was, it shouldn't be that surprising that Lucifer was decent at actually teaching combat. He rotates between each of the residents at the Hotel, including Charlie with her Trident and the angel Vaggie herself. Vaggie was used to training with her own kind, though had been taught as recklessly as every other angel in Heaven. She didn't protect herself when she fought, left herself open to far too many counter hits, but certainly had the will to keep fighting.

She was the first one to actually get a successful hit on him with her spear, only to immediately panic and throw her weapon aside while shouting for help. Lucifer had laughed so hard that the inch deep wound in his hip had torn open further while he collapsed in a fit of hysterics. Just the thought alone that she another angel had gotten a hit on him only to panic had apparently snapped him a bit.

Charlie didn't find it nearly as funny as she ran outside with the first aid kit and demanded to patch him up. Angelic wounds on him would certainly heal slower than normal ones, but they would still heal perfectly fine. His demonic power, the half of himself twisted from being down here, was what slowed the healing. The Archangel half of him was what would heal it eventually.

A double edged sword, two halves of a coin, angel and demon.

Though he did enjoy training with the residents of the hotel, there was still one person who never came out to fight with him. Which led Lucifer to Alastor's room the night before the clock above Heaven's Embassy would count down to triple zeroes. When he stopped in front of the door to the Radio Demon's room, he didn't even need to knock before it was being swung open. He blinked and slowly stepped inside, gaze darting around and spotting the shadow from Valentino's studio that had helped him. He inclined his head slightly toward it, earning a small wave before the shadow vanished into the ground.

Closing the door himself he turned to cast his gaze across the room, eventually spotting Alastor sitting at the table inside the bayou. Tucking his hands behind his back he made his way over toward the sinner, casting a glance curiously around the odd shift in the room. It felt almost, like a pocket dimension. Maybe it actually was, it could explain the illusion magic he thought he felt. Since it was very clearly real, yet not to the level his angelic creative magic could make. Eldritch magic was always strange in nature though, a level almost above demonic in a way.

"Your Majesty, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Mm." Moving his hand from behind his back he popped a chair into existence and sat down in it, folding his right leg over his left and leaning forward onto the table. He gazed across it at Alastor who was holding that book again, Frankenstein, and sipping his tea. "There are only four hours left before midnight, I wanted to talk to you before the fight."

To his credit, the Radio Demon didn't actually look annoyed by this. If anything, it seemed as if he appeared to expect it. The book does get shut and gently placed aside, his gaze settling on Lucifer. "Are you worried?"

"About you?" He questioned back, tilting his head slightly as his gaze again searched the bayou. "In general I'm worried. Everyone seems to forget; this is how I got here." There's an edge to his voice, the slip in his words that betrayed the hitch to his tone. The emotions lodged themselves in his throat. It's not untrue though. "Charlie believes she's the first to see the good in the people down here, that Heaven is understanding and that the rules apply to everyone." A slight shake of his head and he lets his eyes fall shut. "That's not the case." He gave free will because he believed in them, and Heaven was as corrupt as the Sinners he condemned for.

It's not that simple. It's not black and white. Nothing ever is when Heaven is involved.

Alastor hummed and shifted in his chair, the sound nearly as silent as the quiet static that was coming from his body. Taking another breath Lucifer opened his gaze back up and set his eyes on the demon when he started speaking. "The story goes that you tempted Lilith and convinced her to give Eve the apple from the Tree of Knowledge, giving free will to the humans and interrupting God's plans for them. Creating sin and evil through it. Then in an attempt to take God's throne, you were cast out of Heaven to Earth, where you fell to–well, where we are."

Now, Lucifer knows there are quite a few wild tales about his fall from Heaven, and knows that the angels have twisted the stories of him into almost nightmare stories to sway people to a more virtuous path. But this? Was that actually what people are told now-a-days? He can't help it, he laughs at the words, at the idea of what Alastor had just spun at him. He laughs hard enough he drops his head onto the table, clutching at his waist as the sound continues to tumble from his lips and he gasps for breath. It twists into hysterics which burns into sobs and tears finally, eventually cutting the laughter off entirely as he laid there sobbinglike a child. It's pathetic, it's stupid but he can't stop either.

It takes him a bit to eventually get himself under control, his ears picking up the quiet sound of something classical playing from a radio in the room behind him. His tears are dried to his face but they finally stop falling, the pain in his gut only sinking in worse as he runs the words back through his head.

"Did you all actually believe I tried to take Father's throne?"

"It's the most common iteration for the war you caused."

"I caused. I caused?" His head snaps up at that, setting his angry gaze on Alastor. He knows, he really does know it isn't Alastor at fault, but the Hellfire still burns through him in an angry rush. "I caused nothing. My Father brought that war upon himself, and still refused to face me in the end, sending his favorite to put me in my place." He takes a breath and closes his eyes briefly again, collecting himself before slowly opening them back up. "I wanted to give humans a choice, to free themselves from Heaven's chains, their subjugation. I saw–everything they could become, and Father saw them as dolls." Toys to play with, to break, to watch and study like it was fascinating. He saw what they expected from Lilith toward Adam, her strength of character to be more than some child bearing slave. Her independence was something he admired, and he wanted to free her from those chains.

Instead, he ended up with them both in chains.

"My twin brother, Michael, led the march against me. They had sentenced me without even giving me a chance to defend myself. So what do you do when words don't work? When no one wants to listen to you?" A small shrug and he meets Alastor's gaze unashamedly. "You make them. So I raised my sword, I fought for myself and my beliefs. And I lost. We're sitting in my punishment, where I've dragged all of you down here to join me. The Sinners I believed so strongly in."

The people he had risked everything for. The humans he had granted free will to. The demons who squandered it and burned their own souls with sin.

Alastor stood from his chair and tucked it in against the table, moving around the table to head back toward his bedroom. For a few minutes, Lucifer stayed right where he was, watching the Radio Demon's retreating back and then finally stood to follow after him. Crossing the boundary of the room he made his way over toward the fireplace where Alastor had stopped, the eerie green glow it gave off reflecting across the stone. "Do you know what I did to get down here?"

Pressing his lips together Lucifer leaned against the wall and gave a small shrug. "I mean I can if you want me to, but I don't let that bleed over anymore. I used to… I suppose you could call it part of my punishment, but I could look at someone and see every sin that drove them down here. When there got to be so many of you I locked that away with some of my other powers." It was all too much, it was going to drive him to insanity, if he wasn't already.

"I suppose, you can look at it like this; what I do down here, I did up there. I didn't change a single one of my ways." He seems incredibly proud of this, the smile widening on his face even more. "I just learned more creative, more powerful, ways to do it. Every action I take, I greatly enjoy." Murderer, then, Lucifer can supply for himself. It doesn't surprise him. Anyone who looks at Alastor would probably guess that, the creepy and unnatural way he acts, always being one step ahead and never doing anything without gain. There's a reason and a motive to every action this demon takes, and he's a very dangerous one. That Lucifer is sure of.

He's always speculated, in part, that Alastor being here was not for rehabilitation, nor was it for Charlie. Either he was here for the amusement of watching the Hotel fail and burn, or he was here hoping to gain something.

To be honest, he's not sure which one was most accurate, maybe it was a bit of all of it.

"You don't want to be redeemed?" Lucifer questions, just for the fun of it and is rewarded instantly by not only the laugh track but what seemed like a real genuine cackle that left the Radio Demon.

Alastor grinned widely, all teeth and entirely unhinged, as his eyes switched to those weird ticking radio dials. "The only reason I would go to Heaven is to slaughter every single one of those angels and feast on their corpses."

And this doesn't surprise him at all.

"Alright, turn down the eldritch horror show, I'm rather fond of your shadow when he doesn't look like a twisting deer… growly… thingy." He flicks his hand toward the shadow stretching across the wall in a rather interesting display of horror magic. The attention drawn to it (or the compliment?) has it immediately returning to its previous form and shifting closer toward Lucifer along the wall. The King spares the shadow creature a glance before turning his gaze back toward Alastor. "I don't regret granting you all free will. Am I disappointed in what you did with it? Sure. Can I say I'm better than you? No. Not anymore. I've long since accepted my place here."

The King of Hell doesn't get by without falling to the place he's dragged all these Sinners down with him to. He's murdered, he's enjoyed taking his anger and bloodlust out on some damned soul. Crushing down everything he feels into a single repeated phrase of 'hating Sinners' is just easier than facing the undeniable grief he still feels over being betrayed by Heaven. Because that was what that was, betrayal that still festers beneath his skin.

"Then what do you regret, Sire? Because to me, it sounds like you regret very much allowing us to do as we wish."

It sounded like a rather decent question, and there was so much he could answer that with, that it was hard to pick a single thing that bothered him most. Shifting against the wall he glanced again at the shadow, feeling the way it had curled its weird tentacle arms around his own, leaning into him with a chill. When he turned his head back around to Alastor, the Radio Demon was actually glaring at his own shadow. Huh, Lucifer thought he had complete control over it. He's starting to rethink that. "I think, what I hate the most, is being entirely bound down here. I am, quite literally, chained to Hell itself. Forbidden from seeing Heaven, Earth, all the humans and the things they created. The good in life. In what they create with their happiness. The… light that can come from free will, I suppose."

The ever present smile seems to slip a little bit and Alastor slides his heated look from his shadow over toward Lucifer's face. "You really believe that?"

"What?"

"That you can't see the good in what we create?" Still confused and not following him, Lucifer just frowned at Alastor. The demon gave a small sigh. "Humans are interesting in the fact that they're so very resilient. Put them in any situation and with enough time, they'll probably find a way out of it. If there isn't joy to be found in a situation, they'll adapt and find it regardless. This might be Hell, Lucifer, but you've turned a blind eye to your subjects for so long you've lost sight of what they originally were." He waves his hand toward himself. "Humans. Our desire to create never leaves us either. For example, until I was down here, no one had a Radio show. So I made it myself."

Huh.

He really hadn't thought about it like that.

He supposed, technically, Alastor had a point. Everything in Pentagram City the Sinners had created for themselves. Built from nothing when all there was before was a burning, aching pit created by Lucifer himself. The other pulled a pocket watch out from his vest, checked the time and then slipped it back away. "I'm afraid we'll need to cut this conversation short. But, as per our agreement, I think the first thing we should remedy is your abhorrent view of your domain. I have something in mind, but it must wait as the show is about to begin."

The plan was quite simple. Lucifer was supposed to wait back, because he made it clear repeatedly he couldn't fight, and the residents of the Hotel he readied would stand as their defense. Alastor would make a shield, trapping a large number of exterminators inside it to kill off and keep the rest out. Especially Adam. Then, after they lower their numbers, Alastor would go against Adam and the others against the rest. Do it in stages, since there's far more of them than there is of the Sinners. Those willing to fight, anyway.

It's not a bad plan.

So why does Lucifer feel so cowardly just sitting here and waiting?

His hands clenched nearly painfully over his cane, nails digging into the apple as he breathed slowly through his teeth, irritation gathering in his chest to a near painful level. His head kept playing that one singular conversation with Alastor over and over–didn't they break it first? Holding this only six months after the last one, threatening his daughter and now seeking her out. Didn't they break the agreement? That stupid, mockery of an agreement they don't care about anyway. All that was, all it ever was, was a way to just get him out of the way.

Because he's a threat.

Because he's fucking Lucifer.

The goddamned King of Hell.