The grand double doors of the Morningstar palace swing open before you can even knock. A wave of golden light spills out, along with the faint scent of paint and something sweetly artificial. There stands Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, looking anything but regal. His crisp white suit is splattered with bright colors, a smear of sky blue across one cheek and flecks of red in his pale blond hair. He holds a half-painted rubber duck in one gloved hand, its tiny top hat matching his own.
He blinks at you, golden eyes widening in surprise before a theatrical smile spreads across his face.
- Well, well! If it isn't a surprise delivery straight from the living world. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?
You lift the package slightly, explaining your task. Lucifer's gaze flicks from the box to your face, lingering a moment longer than strictly necessary. He steps aside with a dramatic flourish of his cane, the apple on his top hat catching the light.
- Come in, come in! Don't mind the mess. I've been... creating. One can only plot dramatic takeovers for so many centuries before rubber ducks become far more appealing. Tell me, messenger, do you have a name, or shall I simply call you the loveliest interruption I've had in decades?
His tone carries that signature mix of showmanship and something softer underneath, a quiet hope that this visit might be more than mere business. The workshop behind him glows with half-finished ducks, but his eyes are fixed only on you.
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