[Part 1]

Alastor had been scrutinizing Lucifer's reaction. A slight hesitation, almost confused, but by the change in pace more than the dance itself. Oh, this was far from the constrained, elegant ballet moves aristocrats had elected as the superior art, especially since it had been designed by a king.

This was a difficult, freeing pattern of steps and kicks meant to bring joy and community in challenge. A dance created by the people, something many would deem "messy", "plebeian", or even "vulgar".

Lucifer had seemed surprised, not rebucked. He was already learning some steps, and keeping up quite well indeed. To him, it seemed the dance mattered more than the dancers. He could enjoy art whether it came from Sinners, or humans once considered as "lower than".

Alastor smiled, twirled, and leaned in to press one single finger on Lucifer's almost non-existent nose. "To say I expected your old ass to evaporate into a heap of dust!" he teased as his finger pushed, then released the man's face.

With another swirl, he freed himself from his stripped coat, flapped his tail a few times to stretch the weight of fabric off it, and turned around while rolling up his sleeves.

"Come on, chap, I'll show you the basics!"

The band lowered the tempo ever-so-slightly, switching to an easier tune to follow, and Alastor faced the smaller man while stepping back in rhythm. He was showing much less teeth, but oddly much more smile.

"Now... Hop down front then doodle back... Mooch to your left —hips first, you stiffish little imp—"

Then shuffle forward with both feet— Mooch to the right. Hands on your hips! And do the mess around...

"Now, break a leg! No, not really, that just means bend it up and— yes! How quaint, if you keep at it, you might even pass at somewhat acceptable!"

Lucifer is so focused on watching the steps he nearly doesn't notice Alastor coming so close until there is a finger in his face. He scowls at it but raises his line of sight from the ground to the man's face. He's definitely making fun of him, but it doesn't seem as harsh as before.

The fallen angel rolls his eyes and watches the man remove his coat with a flourish. He feels underdressed in his casual sweater and changes into something similar to the other demon, a nice shirt and vest with no coat, with a swirl of red flames. That feels more fitting.

Confidence boosted, he steps up to join the Radio Demon on the dance floor, already having picked up the general pattern if not the specific order of the steps. The words the sinner is spouting make very little sense. He has no idea what a doodle or mooch is, but he mirrors the movements of the other man as best as he can.

"I've never even seen this dance before, give me a break." He mumbles in response to the pointed comments, but he is trying his hardest. It's energetic in a way he hasn't been for a very long time, carefree. He imagines if he were mortal, he might be sweating from the exertion.

Still, he can't help but be infected by the upbeat music and the movement of the bodies, shadow or not, around him.

Alastor's smirk is teasing, but not mean. "What, are you saying a man who doesn't know Canada never heard of a very specific dance either? Color me shocked!"

He shifts around with ease, mixing twist and jazz in his dance, and even a bit of rock'n'roll. He's not that vintage.

"You do keep up rather well," he eventually admits as he swirls and hops around in a florish of challenging moves. "Better than I expected from an old fart!"

Whenever he indulges, and even without the help of alcohol, Alastor reverts to his rebellious human self. He's still quite young at heart.

So he's poking at the older man, provocative as ever, a tad disrespectful in the brattiest way, with the only intent to have fun.

"As if I would have any trouble keeping up with the likes of you." He prods back easily.

Lucifer is finding his stride now, adding his own little flourishes to the dance as he stops trying to follow Alastor specifically and instead just does what feels fitting to the music while still keeping relatively within the same style.

He doesn't know where his shadowy partner went, as he thinks he would prefer dancing with her than the Sinner in front of him. Though she is sort of an extension of the demon anyways, so perhaps it doesn't matter.

During a particularly smooth part of the song, he finds himself summoning his wings and letting them beat in the rhythm, lifting his feet off the ground and freeing his legs to swing with wider kicks as he shows off a bit, coordinating all ten limbs with a natural ease . It also has the added benefit of putting him at Alastor's eye level, which he uses to flash him a challenging smile.

"Though I will admit you have introduced me to a delightful new avenue or music and dance. What do you call this?"

“Cheating”, Alastor mocks as the little man used wings to prop himself up. “At dancing the Charleston.”

He breaks into a few steps of tap-dancing, then raises his eyebrows in a dare. It’s pretty common for dancers to gather round and show off; now the crowd of shadows is doing just that, surrounding them with cheerful applause. The tall shadow lady, who seems to have taken a proper liking to Lucifer, even joins her hands over her spectral blush in silent encouragement.

Alastor gives Lucifer time to retaliate, then easily tops his performance with a bout of twist. The duel starts plainly enough, but of course it escalates, and starting with an advantage doesn’t mean the Sinner will be able to keep it up against the king of Hell.

So he gives himself a little edge by using his sharpest tool: words.

“I see that, in angels, talent is direly proportionate to size… And, my! Six wings? Four wings more than at this half empty Hotel! Some could think you’re competing for the title of major waste of space.”

He grins as music brings back his turn to show-off, and he slides and spins with as much stamina as glee, his demon body contorting backwards as he glides up to whisper sweetly into the other’s ear: “Is that how you usually fail to allure your fancy? By flailing on the dancefloor like a flightened fledgling?”

[Part 1]

Alastor had been scrutinizing Lucifer's reaction. A slight hesitation, almost confused, but by the change in pace more than the dance itself. Oh, this was far from the constrained, elegant ballet moves aristocrats had elected as the superior art, especially since it had been designed by a king.

This was a difficult, freeing pattern of steps and kicks meant to bring joy and community in challenge. A dance created by the people, something many would deem "messy", "plebeian", or even "vulgar".

Lucifer had seemed surprised, not rebucked. He was already learning some steps, and keeping up quite well indeed. To him, it seemed the dance mattered more than the dancers. He could enjoy art whether it came from Sinners, or humans once considered as "lower than".

Alastor smiled, twirled, and leaned in to press one single finger on Lucifer's almost non-existent nose. "To say I expected your old ass to evaporate into a heap of dust!" he teased as his finger pushed, then released the man's face.

With another swirl, he freed himself from his stripped coat, flapped his tail a few times to stretch the weight of fabric off it, and turned around while rolling up his sleeves.

"Come on, chap, I'll show you the basics!"

The band lowered the tempo ever-so-slightly, switching to an easier tune to follow, and Alastor faced the smaller man while stepping back in rhythm. He was showing much less teeth, but oddly much more smile.

"Now... Hop down front then doodle back... Mooch to your left —hips first, you stiffish little imp—"

Then shuffle forward with both feet— Mooch to the right. Hands on your hips! And do the mess around...

"Now, break a leg! No, not really, that just means bend it up and— yes! How quaint, if you keep at it, you might even pass at somewhat acceptable!"

Lucifer is so focused on watching the steps he nearly doesn't notice Alastor coming so close until there is a finger in his face. He scowls at it but raises his line of sight from the ground to the man's face. He's definitely making fun of him, but it doesn't seem as harsh as before.

The fallen angel rolls his eyes and watches the man remove his coat with a flourish. He feels underdressed in his casual sweater and changes into something similar to the other demon, a nice shirt and vest with no coat, with a swirl of red flames. That feels more fitting.

Confidence boosted, he steps up to join the Radio Demon on the dance floor, already having picked up the general pattern if not the specific order of the steps. The words the sinner is spouting make very little sense. He has no idea what a doodle or mooch is, but he mirrors the movements of the other man as best as he can.

"I've never even seen this dance before, give me a break." He mumbles in response to the pointed comments, but he is trying his hardest. It's energetic in a way he hasn't been for a very long time, carefree. He imagines if he were mortal, he might be sweating from the exertion.

Still, he can't help but be infected by the upbeat music and the movement of the bodies, shadow or not, around him.

Alastor’s smirk is teasing, but not mean. “What, are you saying a man who doesn’t know Canada never heard of a very specific dance either? Color me shocked!”

He shifts around with ease, mixing twist and jazz in his dance, and even a bit of rock'n'roll. He’s not that vintage.

“You do keep up rather well,” he eventually admits as he swirls and hops around in a florish of challenging moves. “Better than I expected from an old fart!”

Whenever he indulges, and even without the help of alcohol, Alastor reverts to his rebellious human self. He’s still quite young at heart.

So he’s poking at the older man, provocative as ever, a tad disrespectful in the brattiest way, with the only intent to have fun.

// Aside from Alastor possibly “realizing he needs” Vox around (I think it would do nothing for his character development), this post is spot on. Vox was never a cutie pie, even when in love with Al. And he’s a cunning murderer, Al is the sloppy one.

Same for Lucifer btw, he’s cute but he’s still the oldest, strongest soul in Hell, not a wooby baby.

// I hope Lu will be the main villain, but I think it won’t be as obvious as “BWA HAHA, ME EVIL!” and rather the slow reveal that he kept making thing worse and is actually responsible for so much shit.

My bet is Alastor targets him to get his power, probably even his throne.

[Part 1]

Alastor had been scrutinizing Lucifer’s reaction. A slight hesitation, almost confused, but by the change in pace more than the dance itself. Oh, this was far from the constrained, elegant ballet moves aristocrats had elected as the superior art, especially since it had been designed by a king.

This was a difficult, freeing pattern of steps and kicks meant to bring joy and community in challenge. A dance created by the people, something many would deem “messy”, “plebeian”, or even “vulgar”.

Lucifer had seemed surprised, not rebucked. He was already learning some steps, and keeping up quite well indeed. To him, it seemed the dance mattered more than the dancers. He could enjoy art whether it came from Sinners, or humans once considered as “lower than”.

Alastor smiled, twirled, and leaned in to press one single finger on Lucifer’s almost non-existent nose. “To say I expected your old ass to evaporate into a heap of dust!” he teased as his finger pushed, then released the man’s face.

With another swirl, he freed himself from his stripped coat, flapped his tail a few times to stretch the weight of fabric off it, and turned around while rolling up his sleeves.

“Come on, chap, I’ll show you the basics!”

The band lowered the tempo ever-so-slightly, switching to an easier tune to follow, and Alastor faced the smaller man while stepping back in rhythm. He was showing much less teeth, but oddly much more smile.

“Now… Hop down front then doodle back… Mooch to your left —hips first, you stiffish little imp—”

Then shuffle forward with both feet— Mooch to the right. Hands on your hips! And do the mess around…

“Now, break a leg! No, not really, that just means bend it up and— yes! How quaint, if you keep at it, you might even pass at somewhat acceptable!”