Dancing with the devil
Sunday, June 21st, 2020 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lizvogelI have finished my IntoABar story, actual hours before deadline! I really had meant to get it done sooner, but I'd misremembered the deadline by a week; it's a good thing I double-checked a couple days ago. As I predicted, the mods and the dice conspired to give me one of the few characters I didn't immediately know what to do with. But that's part of what makes this challenge fun, after all.
Title: A Little Devil-tree
Fandoms: Lucifer (TV show) and Guardians of the Galaxy (movies)
Prompt: Lucifer Morningstar goes into a bar and meets... Groot!
Word Count: ~1080
Because I'm old-school: Lucifer and Guardians of the Galaxy are the property of their respective copyright holders; characters, situations, etc. of Lucifer and Guardians of the Galaxy are included in this work under the principle of Fair Use, and no infringement of copyright is intended. All other components of this work are © 21 June 2020 Liz A. Vogel. Yeah, that's how we used to do it, kids.
Notes: I am so, so sorry about the title.
A Little Devil-tree
by Liz A. Vogel
With all the interdimensional portals that'd been opening lately, Lucifer wasn't too surprised to walk into Lux and see an alien. He and Chloe, along with the rest of the LAPD, had spent the day responding to calls about beings so strange that even Angelinos realized they weren't just movie extras. At least this one wasn't eating people, giving off exotic radiation, or demanding to see the Intergalactic Travelers' Aide.
He was a little surprised that the alien resembled a ten-inch tree, though.
The creature was standing atop a bar stool, waving a... limb? and occasionally jumping for what height it could manage in an effort to be seen above the edge of the bar. Lucifer slid onto the neighboring stool and propped an elbow on the bar. "Hello," he purred. "And what is it that you desire?"
"I am Groot!" it piped at him.
Speaking every mortal language ever apparently extended to other planets, which was why Chloe had insisted on dragging him to every alien sighting that involved shouting rather than shooting. "Are you even old enough for bourbon?" He peered down at the diminutive deciduate; it stared back up at him pugnaciously, complete with a tiny foot-stomp.
"I am Groot!"
"The detective has been teaching me about 'age-appropriate beverages'," Lucifer made air-quotes around the phrase, making the ridiculous mortal gesture look graceful, of course, "but since she's not here...." He let a smile slide onto his face, and signaled the bartender. "Two bourbons." He didn't have to specify top shelf; all the staff knew better than to serve him anything less.
Two bourbons arrived within seconds; Lucifer started to hand one down to the little sprout, but it shot out a tangle of what looked like vines, wrapped them around the glass, and pulled it down to its face. It was not a tidy drinker. Lucifer recoiled slightly, and wondered if Lux should start stocking sippy cups.
But he raised a finger again, and the creature raised its glass enough to get a refill. The second went only a little better than the first, but Lux had cleaning staff for a reason. Quite a lot of reasons, actually, most of them better than this, but if it kept the alien from going on a rampage or exploding or something, it was worth it.
But after a third drink, the little tree started bobbing its head in time to the music. It turned to stare out at the dance floor, where the usual collection of expensively-undressed clientele were weaving and writhing. The tree started swaying back and forth along with them.
"I am Groot?"
"You're probably not old enough for that either -- but you've got to start some time," Lucifer added with a gleaming grin, as the creature started to climb down from the barstool. "Feel free. Just don't eat anyone who doesn't consent first, all right?"
Half an hour later, Lucifer was wondering if indulging the creature had been such a good idea. He wasn't sure how "I Will Survive" had gotten into Lux's mix. Surely there was a prohibition against 70s music on the sound system? He'd popped up to Earth in the 70s; after getting a good look at the lounge suits, he'd gone back to Hell.
"Actually, there's no such thing as a good look at a lounge suit," he muttered to himself. At least the tree-thing wasn't wearing one. But there was no doubt it'd had something to do with the change in audio tracks; it was capering about on top of a table in what was apparently meant to be dancing. A crowd of customers had gathered around it, passing it drinks and cheering it on. Some were even mimicking its moves, such as they were. The wooden wonder was grinning fit to burst.
And singing. Alien tree karaoke. Well, why not? All lyrics were reduced to "I am Groot!", but what the little stick lacked in eloquence it made up in enthusiasm, and the customers were loving it. Apparently to humans it was "adorable!!!"
Lucifer found himself another drink and a couple tablets of something fun, and decided, so to speak, what the Hell. After all, a party was a party. He draped an arm over someone scantily dressed and demonstrably flexible, and let her do her best to persuade him that the music had its merits.
"There you are! What have I told you about wandering off?" It took Lucifer a moment to spot the speaker, since he didn't even come up to the table-top. So it was three-foot raccoons now, was it?
"I am Groot!"
"No, I don't wanna dance. Listen, Quill thinks he's got a way to get us out of here and seal the rift, but we've gotta launch in the next twenty minutes."
"I am Grooooot!"
"You can party later." The raccoon pulled himself up so his chin was resting on the high table. "Wait. Are you drunk?"
"I am" *hic* "Groot!"
"You are!" The raccoon intercepted the next glass that was headed the tree's way, ignoring the crowd that was starting to chant Groot! Groot! Groot! He started to set it aside, then apparently decided not to waste it and tossed the drink down his own throat. "Jeez, who gives bourbon to a baby? Even I know that's bad parenting!"
"I am Groot!"
"Well, you're sure not old enough for this." He grabbed the miniature alien around the middle and hauled it off the table. It howled in protest and thumped at its captor, but the raccoon shrugged off the blows, apparently used to this sort of thing. Some of the crowd howled in protest, too; the raccoon's lip curled up, and the threat of alien space rabies made them back off in a hurry. A couple of customers, the more inebriated ones presumably, declared that the raccoon was also "adorable!!!" and tried to pet it as it passed. Lucifer recognized the impending carnage -- he'd seen the same look in Maze's eyes, more than once -- and quickly grabbed a couple bottles of champagne and swirled into the crowd, distracting them with free booze and his own inarguable charm. Let them pet him instead; that would be far more rewarding for all concerned.
As the sound tech revved up something absolutely not from the 70s, his devilishly good hearing caught a last few words:
"When we get back to the ship, you are so grounded."
"I am Groot!"
"Yeah, and you're a potty-mouth, too."
FIN
Title: A Little Devil-tree
Fandoms: Lucifer (TV show) and Guardians of the Galaxy (movies)
Prompt: Lucifer Morningstar goes into a bar and meets... Groot!
Word Count: ~1080
Because I'm old-school: Lucifer and Guardians of the Galaxy are the property of their respective copyright holders; characters, situations, etc. of Lucifer and Guardians of the Galaxy are included in this work under the principle of Fair Use, and no infringement of copyright is intended. All other components of this work are © 21 June 2020 Liz A. Vogel. Yeah, that's how we used to do it, kids.
Notes: I am so, so sorry about the title.
by Liz A. Vogel
With all the interdimensional portals that'd been opening lately, Lucifer wasn't too surprised to walk into Lux and see an alien. He and Chloe, along with the rest of the LAPD, had spent the day responding to calls about beings so strange that even Angelinos realized they weren't just movie extras. At least this one wasn't eating people, giving off exotic radiation, or demanding to see the Intergalactic Travelers' Aide.
He was a little surprised that the alien resembled a ten-inch tree, though.
The creature was standing atop a bar stool, waving a... limb? and occasionally jumping for what height it could manage in an effort to be seen above the edge of the bar. Lucifer slid onto the neighboring stool and propped an elbow on the bar. "Hello," he purred. "And what is it that you desire?"
"I am Groot!" it piped at him.
Speaking every mortal language ever apparently extended to other planets, which was why Chloe had insisted on dragging him to every alien sighting that involved shouting rather than shooting. "Are you even old enough for bourbon?" He peered down at the diminutive deciduate; it stared back up at him pugnaciously, complete with a tiny foot-stomp.
"I am Groot!"
"The detective has been teaching me about 'age-appropriate beverages'," Lucifer made air-quotes around the phrase, making the ridiculous mortal gesture look graceful, of course, "but since she's not here...." He let a smile slide onto his face, and signaled the bartender. "Two bourbons." He didn't have to specify top shelf; all the staff knew better than to serve him anything less.
Two bourbons arrived within seconds; Lucifer started to hand one down to the little sprout, but it shot out a tangle of what looked like vines, wrapped them around the glass, and pulled it down to its face. It was not a tidy drinker. Lucifer recoiled slightly, and wondered if Lux should start stocking sippy cups.
But he raised a finger again, and the creature raised its glass enough to get a refill. The second went only a little better than the first, but Lux had cleaning staff for a reason. Quite a lot of reasons, actually, most of them better than this, but if it kept the alien from going on a rampage or exploding or something, it was worth it.
But after a third drink, the little tree started bobbing its head in time to the music. It turned to stare out at the dance floor, where the usual collection of expensively-undressed clientele were weaving and writhing. The tree started swaying back and forth along with them.
"I am Groot?"
"You're probably not old enough for that either -- but you've got to start some time," Lucifer added with a gleaming grin, as the creature started to climb down from the barstool. "Feel free. Just don't eat anyone who doesn't consent first, all right?"
Half an hour later, Lucifer was wondering if indulging the creature had been such a good idea. He wasn't sure how "I Will Survive" had gotten into Lux's mix. Surely there was a prohibition against 70s music on the sound system? He'd popped up to Earth in the 70s; after getting a good look at the lounge suits, he'd gone back to Hell.
"Actually, there's no such thing as a good look at a lounge suit," he muttered to himself. At least the tree-thing wasn't wearing one. But there was no doubt it'd had something to do with the change in audio tracks; it was capering about on top of a table in what was apparently meant to be dancing. A crowd of customers had gathered around it, passing it drinks and cheering it on. Some were even mimicking its moves, such as they were. The wooden wonder was grinning fit to burst.
And singing. Alien tree karaoke. Well, why not? All lyrics were reduced to "I am Groot!", but what the little stick lacked in eloquence it made up in enthusiasm, and the customers were loving it. Apparently to humans it was "adorable!!!"
Lucifer found himself another drink and a couple tablets of something fun, and decided, so to speak, what the Hell. After all, a party was a party. He draped an arm over someone scantily dressed and demonstrably flexible, and let her do her best to persuade him that the music had its merits.
"There you are! What have I told you about wandering off?" It took Lucifer a moment to spot the speaker, since he didn't even come up to the table-top. So it was three-foot raccoons now, was it?
"I am Groot!"
"No, I don't wanna dance. Listen, Quill thinks he's got a way to get us out of here and seal the rift, but we've gotta launch in the next twenty minutes."
"I am Grooooot!"
"You can party later." The raccoon pulled himself up so his chin was resting on the high table. "Wait. Are you drunk?"
"I am" *hic* "Groot!"
"You are!" The raccoon intercepted the next glass that was headed the tree's way, ignoring the crowd that was starting to chant Groot! Groot! Groot! He started to set it aside, then apparently decided not to waste it and tossed the drink down his own throat. "Jeez, who gives bourbon to a baby? Even I know that's bad parenting!"
"I am Groot!"
"Well, you're sure not old enough for this." He grabbed the miniature alien around the middle and hauled it off the table. It howled in protest and thumped at its captor, but the raccoon shrugged off the blows, apparently used to this sort of thing. Some of the crowd howled in protest, too; the raccoon's lip curled up, and the threat of alien space rabies made them back off in a hurry. A couple of customers, the more inebriated ones presumably, declared that the raccoon was also "adorable!!!" and tried to pet it as it passed. Lucifer recognized the impending carnage -- he'd seen the same look in Maze's eyes, more than once -- and quickly grabbed a couple bottles of champagne and swirled into the crowd, distracting them with free booze and his own inarguable charm. Let them pet him instead; that would be far more rewarding for all concerned.
As the sound tech revved up something absolutely not from the 70s, his devilishly good hearing caught a last few words:
"When we get back to the ship, you are so grounded."
"I am Groot!"
"Yeah, and you're a potty-mouth, too."
