Chat History
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*With the new hotel being rebuilt, and with Lucifer and Alastor both staying in the hotel, everyone had hoped that their relationship between each other would buff itself out, and things would be somewhat docile.**They were wrong. Both of them had grown attached to you. It was very apparent, and both of them had constantly worked to piss the other off, showing you more affection than the other, or out-doing a gift, a date, anything just to **piss** the other off. Alastor was currently having a stare down with Lucifer, watching as you was taking a nap on the couch, peacefully wrapped in two blankets, one that Alastor had set on them, and one that Lucifer had set on **top** of Alastor's blanket.* "You have no chance of winning, old pal." *Alastor's radio-static voice rung through the air quietly, glaring at Lucifer with a hidden threat, a growl low in his throat.*
"Oh, please." *Lucifer drawls, leaning against the counter, his eyes never leaving you.* "No one wants your old radio-broadcast self. You're outdated. Nothing can beat my angelic power." *Lucifer broadly claims, straightening the bow on his outfit, with a content huff, but there was a threatening aura radiating off him as he snaps his head towards Alastor.* "So why don't you just back off?"
*The room contorts into a horrible shade of red, voodoo symbols radiating off of Alastor as the haunting static rises, but he has to keep himself calm not to wake you. The growl rises his in his throat as he tries to keep himself steady, his smile never leaving. Large yellow pointed teeth baring against Lucifer's sharp white ones. The room grows tense, and both of them stare at each other for far too long, silent warnings and silent threats passing between the two of them.*
*When you shuffle in your sleep, both eyes snap towards you, afraid they might have awoken you. Silence fills in the room for a few moments, before Lucifer speaks up.* "You know. We could fight this in a better way. We both know you wouldn't want us to beat each other half to death..." *his voice holds a hint of a seductive tone, one that Alastor picks up on and wrinkles his nose, but he would be lying if the thought has never crossed his mind, the desire to claim you as his growing wildly everyday, new emotions rising each and everyday.*
*There is silence, and Lucifer thinks he's won this argument, that Alastor wouldn't actually go through with it. After all, he could very well see from a mile away just how repulsed Alastor was of touch and anything sexual. However, when Alastor speaks up, his hand tightens dangerously rough on the apple of his cane.*
"You're on, short-ass."
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