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Alastor awoke to sun filtering through the curtains and an absolutely throbbing headache. Last night was... fuzzy to put it mildly. He began sifting through the memories that came bubbling up to the forefront: liberal quantities of libations, A smug bastard in his hideous top hat, dancing, boasting, good natured jests and then -
"You wouldn't last a day as the king of hell"
"Oh please, like it's hard. You wouldn't last a day running this place"
Lucifer's voice had dropped in octave then, eyes sparking in that way that made Alastor's stomach turn in a way a little too sweet to be his dinner souring.
" Is that a Challenge? "
Alastor remembered leaning forward, words slurred slightly and answering in his usual smug manner, transatlantic charm dripping from every syllable
"Yes, I suppose it is."
The memory had gotten a bit fuzzy around the edges at that point, but Alastor seemed to recall a pen, a handshake and then promptly falling out of his chair.
That would most certainly have left a bruise on his elbows and knees so why did he not feel any pain? His healing was by no means that fast. He groaned and ripped the blankets off of him, shielding his massively hungover eyes from the ruddy light with the back of his left hand, a glint catching his eye:
A slightly tarnished ring on the ring finger of his left hand.
Oh GOD. Had he married Lucifer last night?
Now THAT would certainly be a headline.
Alastor groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and swinging his legs out of the bed. These were concerns for a more coherent Alastor to handle. Right now he needed the creature comforts of the bathroom and possibly a bloody mary or something to chase away the damnable fog. He squinted, staggering to the bathroom. Most of the rooms in the hotel were similar, and he appeared to have staggered into one last night that was not his own, but that was of no import. It would seem its occupant hadn't needed it last night, he would simply have Niffty clean up and nobody would be the wiser.
But it was quite odd. The furniture in this hotel, while mismatched, was all of a similar size. Why then, were all the items in this room so... large? He staggered to the bathroom door, wincing as he wrenched it open with a good bit more force than was necessary, and wandered over to the blessed sink. He turned on the water cold as he could make it and splashed it on his face, the chill bringing some awareness back with it. He would get to the bottom of this, just you wait.
He dried his face with the towel by the sink and braced himself for the wreck he knew was waiting for him in the mirror. He just knew that his cheeks would be haggard, the circles under his eyes dark as pitch and he was ready for the death masque-like horror that awaited him. It would take some work to put his face to rights, but it was not the first time he would have had to set himself to rights after a night of ale-passion.
What he was not prepared for was what stared back at him from the mirror. That was not his face. Lucifer's face, a bit ashen, but still thrumming with the golden health of angels, stared back at him, a look of creeping horror dawning across it.
This could NOT be happening.
Alastor ran to the wardrobe. He needed to get dressed and give that angelic bastard the tongue lashing of the century because this was undoubtedly and entirely Lucifer's fault. Lucifer's ridiculous outfits were full of so many buttons, frills and so many ties- and for some reason Alastor's-well, Lucifer's- hands were not working properly. He had torn off three buttons at least before he huffed in irritation and shrugged on a coat, storming out the door and to his radio tower. If Lucifer had made it to bed last night then surely he had done the same.
As expected, the hideous apple-tipped cane proved to be a very effective door knocker, and Lucifer, well- Lucifer in Alastor's body- answered the door in a few moments. Alastor felt no small amount of satisfaction looking him over. Still dressed in his suit from last night, face haggard and hair a rumpled mess he was confident that at least so far he was winning this little debacle. He had at least managed to change clothes.
Lucifer's voice was laced with static and poured from his mouth in a way that belied an absolutely shit night of sleep. And more than a modicum of irritability.
"Well, Good morning to you too Alastor. Could you have possibly made any more noise on your way up here?"
"Cut the act, Majesty, what did you do " Alastor snarled, gesturing to his tiny, ridiculously unbalanced body.
Lucifer groaned, using Alastor's fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose as if the terror had any right to be upset.
"Look, you drank enough that even my memory is a little-" he gestured at the side of his head, a universal gesture of “muddled”
"That doesn't excuse whatever tomfoolery you enacted to make this happen. Give me my body back."
Lucifer frowned. "Now that is a no-can-do. If we used a contract like I think we did-" He rifled in the pockets of Alastor's pants with no regard for how horribly uncouth he looked and withdrew a familiar parchment, the ink warped and still smelling strongly of spirits.
There was no mistaking it. While drunker than a skunk Alastor had somehow managed to be conned by the king of hell into a deal. Lucifer unfolded it, skimming the paper with a grimace most unnatural to be seen on Alastor's always-smiling face.
"Well, uh, Al, it says here that we have 24 hours stuck like this. Not the worst terms, I'd say"
Alastor bristled. Not the worst terms? He was stuck in this stupid tiny body that seemed determined to disobey him at every turn and his shoulders were so heavy and to top it off, he had a damned meeting today-
Lucifer checked his nails, grinning lazily down at Alastor. "I mean, unless you think you can't hack it. I could be persuaded to put us back if you begged. And said I'm the best dad ever. And-"
Alastor bristled. He would not be doing that. Meeting be damned, his pride was far more important.
"That will not be necessary, Majesty."
Lucifer snorted, a noise Alastor was not aware could even come out of his nose, before waggling his - Alastor's - eyebrows "Well then, you should probably go get yourself presentable. You have a big day ahead of you."
Alastor laughed, "Doing what? Avoiding my regal responsibilities? I daresay you will have the harder task ahead of you. There is an overlord meeting being held at Carmilla Carmine's offices at half past noon."
Lucifer cursed, checking the ticking mantelpiece clock, 11:15, and glaring back at Alastor. "This isn't over, just you wait until I get back-"
Alastor grinned. Point for the radio demon, he supposed. "If you need me, your majesty, you certainly know where to find me"
Alastor hummed to himself, spinning the little apple tipped cane in his hand as he sauntered back through the halls. Surely a day as Lucifer would be chock full of relaxation and the absolutely delectable schadenfreude he could practically taste at the prospect of Lucifer crashing and burning at the meeting.
-
Alastor had never been so wrong.
He had merely been walking back to the apple shaped tower Lucifer seemed content to ensconce himself in and he had been stopped by no less than FOUR sinners, dragged to the kitchen and a spatula thrown into his hands, hungry residents clamoring for enough different varietals of pancakes and waffles and sickly sweet monstrosities that it made his mind spin. Since WHEN had the king of hell been relegated to naught more than the short order cook of the sinners in this hotel? Alastor stared at the griddle, metal shimmering with the heat rolling off of it and the batter sitting unappealingly in the bowl to his left.
Alastor had no idea what he was doing.
His skill in the kitchen lay mainly with entrees, and even then, he had more of a focus on the, shall we say, carnivorous cuisine. But with the entire cast of the hotel practically banging their knives and forks on the countertops? The weight of their expectations was positively palpable .
Alastor cursed as he began to ladle batter onto the griddle and prayed to whatever god might have mercy in their heart for his plight that he could pull it off.
He did not in fact pull it off.
The first batch had been catastrophically undercooked, flour in the middle unmixed and batter liquid in the middle. The outsides were a perfect golden brown, so he had done something right he supposed. They only needed to cook for a bit longer.
Simple enough, but the batch he had cooked a bit longer had caught fire on the griddle, prompting Vaggie to leap into action with a fire extinguisher and Charlie to pull him off to the side.
"Hey, it's okay dad! Everyone has off days. I'm sure having cereal and toast for a day will be just fine. You just go rest up, I'll handle it from here!"
Alastor felt his pride rankle at the almost pitying look she regarded him with and the fact that she was looking down on him (literally). He was in the body of the king of hell dammit, and to top it off he was the radio demon ! Fearsome overlord! Powerful beyond compare! And he had been bested by a foppish dandy in a top hat. Lucifer was more than likely commanding the meeting like the little prince he was and Alastor scowled.
Alastor bowed out of the conversation and retreated to Lucifer's horrifically tacky chambers. At the very least, he had music to soothe him. And so, wandering over to the old radio that he noted with no small modicum of pride sat on Lucifer's bedside table, he turned the dial.
The radio flared to life, static making way for a remarkably familiar voice - his own.
Lucifer was broadcasting live? Well this was going to be awful .
Lucifer in his body was evidently at the overlords meeting, laughing uproariously and judging by the sheer sounds of carnage in the background, this particular meeting was shaping up to be a bit of a shitshow.
There were sounds of ball lightning arcing through the air and what sounded like a shriek of pure rage in Spanish, a sure sign that Alastor would have several sorry not sorry notes to send out come tomorrow. an "apology tour" if you will. But what he heard next sent his teeth on edge. his own voice, somehow morphed and twisted into Lucifer's cadence echoing through the radio.
"You guys are absolutely hilarious ! I have no idea why Alastor, I mean ME because I am Alastor, avoids these meetings. And you Broadcasty bud- You dress so similar to Al, I mean me. Are you obsessed?"
Vox let out a scream followed by a sound that was distinctly reminiscent of a table being smashed.
Lucifer whistled. "Damn! you've really got an arm there, huh? You know, you're not terrible looking for a sinner. You free on Saturday?"
Alastor was ready to set himself ablaze.
-
Lucifer came sauntering back to the hotel that evening, Alastor's hair rumpled and his coat still smoldering with the telltale scent and singes of an electric fire. He spun Alastor's cane with his usual theatrical flourish and grinned wildly down.
"What did I say? I did an absolutely fantastic job as you today. You can hold the applause."
Alastor bristled. " Fantastic? Your little stunt today at the meeting will put me back years in my political conquests, and from the sounds of it you nearly leveled Carmilla's Offices!"
Lucifer cocked his hip in a way that looked so foreign on Alastor's bony frame and began counting off on his fingers. "Well, first: I didn't do the leveling, you have your other overlords to thank for that. I merely pushed them in the right direction "
Alastor felt his smile tug into a frown. "You mean " Incited a riot ""
Lucifer waved his hand dismissively. "Tomayto tomahto- and secondly: that meeting could have been some kind of a letter. or a text. and Finally-"
He leered down at Alastor, every inch the self-assured pride incarnate Alastor had learned to loathe even still ensconced in Alastor's own form. Alastor felt his face twist into a snarl, teeth bared like some kind of animal as Lucifer loomed over him.
"I am absolutely certain I did a better job than you."
Alastor huffed. "Well, Majesty, I will have you know I was quite the busy bee today. I cooked breakfast-"
Lucifer raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"I tidied your workspace-"
Lucifer looked worried now.
"I listened to your absolute idiocy at the meeting, and then after that-" Alastor pressed a finger to his chin. "After that I didn't have much to do, on account of you never doing anything, but oh wait I did do one thing-"
Alastor grinned wickedly, clapping his hands together and spinning on his heels.
"I redecorated."
He pointed far above where even visible from outside the hotel a vast improvement had taken place: within the large red-paneled windows of Lucifer's tower were snapping alligators, a faux bayou identical to his own glimmering in the ruddy hellshine, and lightning bugs winking cheerfully beyond the glass.
Lucifer's mouth hung open and Alastor smirked as he wandered back into the hotel, twirling the apple-tipped monstrosity he had grown rather fond of. Lucifer's anguished roar tapered off into a whimper and Alastor grinned wickedly, mentally patting himself on the back for enacting such a lovely and positive change in the hotel.
Check and mate Lucifer.
-
Charlie had been called many things, naive, hopelessly optimistic, overly cheerful, etc, but she was much more observant than most people gave her credit for. And something had changed in her dad and Alastor lately. There used to be nothing but fights that threatened the stability of the hotel, but nowadays she was seeing something new: Empathy .
Alastor would complain about something and her dad would nod, say something slightly mean but with no real teeth behind it and they would move on.
Same with Alastor. He had also started showing up to breakfasts in the morning, insisting her dad learn harder and more challenging breakfast pastry techniques, but they were starting to tolerate each other.
Charlie smiled, clutching her storybook to her chest and leafing to a blank page, thoughtfully pressing her ink pen to the paper.
Perhaps there was something there that wasn't there before .