Melody found herself dragged along with Asmo to Majolish for shopping. Although her family was well off, Melody had never felt comfortable in fancy clothes, and her mother had rarely pressed the matter. Most of Melody’s older siblings had varying degrees of interest in fashion, but all of them were well-dressed, from formal to flashy. Melody preferred to stick to comfortable slacks, t-shirts, and sweatshirts. Even when she had gotten clothes again in the Devildom, based on her allowance, she picked similar items, other than her RAD uniforms, of course. Asmo had said, in a fit of zeal, that all her clothes should be burned, but then she pointed out that they weren’t given enough allowance to buy her an entirely new wardrobe, and he dropped the subject.
Asmo had sulked a little on the way to the store, which at least gave Melody a reprieve from his rather heavy-handed flirting, but as soon as they got inside, Asmo came back to life and had a thousand things to say, and seemed to want to go a hundred directions at once. Melody gently reminded him that they were there to find a dress for her, even though she struggled to get her words out. Telling a demon what he ‘ought’ to do often had less than desirable results. However, although he didn’t like to be told what to do, Asmo was easily placated because he knew that Melody ‘needed’ him. And, she had a way of asking for things without ever demanding. Probably what kept her alive when many humans would have pushed their luck. Humans were far too used to being at the top of the food chain; they didn’t realize how much stronger demons were simply because most of them didn’t believe demons existed.
“Hm, with your hair and eye color, a nice purple or blue would look good,” Asmo mused, wiggling with his finger to indicate Melody should turn around. Shyly she did, and then repeated it a few times at varying speeds. She felt a little bit like a puppet on a string, but she bore with it. “I mean, blacks and grays would look nice too, but we really need to make you pop. This is a dance, after all, not a funeral.” He pursed his lips. “You’re not exactly sleek, so probably something with a bit of draping to it would be best, especially since you’ll be doing some nice dancing. Tight clothes are sassy, but that’s more for a club than a formal dance.” Slowly Asmo was collecting a variety of dresses, which he carefully draped over one of his arms.
“But, you don’t even know my size,” Melody protested weakly. Asmo fixed her with a long gaze, then smirked.
“Honey, I have a lot of experience with these matters, trust me,” he said with a little laugh. “I can definitely eyeball your size, even with those baggy clothes you wear. And on the very off-chance I’m wrong, it won’t be hard to fix the problem.” Asmodeus was unconcerned, and he conveyed that quite clearly.
“Um…okay,” replied Melody. She wasn’t sure if she could trust him overall, but she didn’t doubt his word as far as knowing his way around fashion. She even tried to not care that he wasn’t really doing it for her, but mostly to show off and further validate his own skills. After all, as the saying went, beggars can’t be choosers, and he had a skill she needed. The two of them went through several dresses and with each one Asmodeus found something he didn’t like. One would be too fluffy, while the next would be too slinky. One would be too plain, and the next would be too overdone. Sometimes the color didn’t quite suit her when she put it on, or there were other flaws that were only apparent when she donned the dress. It was… disheartening. But, finally, they found a garment that fit his approval.
“Are you sure about this?” Melody asked, staring at herself in the mirror, catching Asmo’s reflection as he hovered behind her.
“Do you doubt my eye for fashion?” Asmo was appalled.
“N-No!” Melody shook her head, quick to dispel the misunderstanding. “The dress is gorgeous! But… aren’t my shoulders a little too bare?”
“Nonsense. I mean, of course, we’ll have to add something to set off the dress to increase the flow of the overall ensemble. But, covering yourself up entirely is doing you a disservice Melody.” Even though Asmo wasn’t close enough, Melody somehow felt his breath against her bare shoulders. The dress really was everything a girl could want for something fancy, and it suited both her figure and color. It was a pale blue, with darker blue accents and intricate stitching. The skirt portion was long and full, barely hanging above the ground; with heels, she’d be able to stop the dress from dragging. All the layers made it seem like it should be heavy, but when she twirled around in it, the skirt felt light enough to dance in.
By the time Asmo was done with Melody, she had a complete outfit. Shoes, gloves, jewelry, a little purse, and a cape to cover her shoulders, were all included, all in various shades of complementary blues. Melody had to pinch herself a few times to assure herself that this was all real. So far, a lot of things in the Devildom had been scary and nerve-wracking. But, this felt more like a fairy tale; it reminded her of how Asmo had described the Demon Lord’s castle when the retreat had first been mentioned. Additionally, they stopped by a hair salon to experiment with a few different hairstyles that he thought might suit her dress and face. They decided on a charming style with curls carefully framing her face and spiraling down her back.
“On the day of the dance, I’ll do your hair and makeup,” Asmo promised as they rode back on the way home. “Once we get inside the Demon Lord’s castle, we won’t be able to leave so easily, but I can definitely manage, as long as you remember to pack all the supplies needed.”
“Thank you so much for helping me, Asmo,” Melody said, meaning it completely.
“It really was no problem. I do enjoy bringing out the hidden beauty in people,” Asmo replied, his tone rather excited. “Obviously, no one is as beautiful or charming as I am, but that just means I have more responsibility to help others.” Melody wasn’t sure how serious that sort of responsibility was, but she didn’t doubt that Asmodeus saw it that way. Most people desired to be desirable, and she supposed that was right up his alley. As they sat in the backseat, they weren’t touching, or even very close, but Melody kept having this strange feeling like Asmodeus was touching her, a brief brush of a hand or thigh here and there, but every time she looked, he was still completely on his side of the car. She chided herself for being so suspicious of him, more than she was of his brothers. Besides, Beel and Mammon’s speeds had been mentioned as noteworthy, but no one had even hinted that Asmo was particularly gifted in the speed department.
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Asmo largely seemed interested in his DDD, but Melody couldn’t read in the car, so she rested her head against the window and watched the scenery go by. Sometimes it looked a lot like nighttime back home, but other times she saw people, or places, that simply couldn’t exist in the human realm. The juxtaposition of the commonplace and the supernatural often took her by surprise, even now. But the shock didn’t last long anymore, so she guessed she must be getting used to it. After all, seeing several of the brothers in their demon forms had effectively hammered home that she was no longer in Kansas, so to speak. The sounds of the vehicle, and Asmo’s delicate tapping on his DDD’s screen, were oddly relaxing.
Melody hadn’t realized she had dozed off until Asmo’s voice woke her up. Feeling mildly disoriented, she took a few moments to focus enough to notice that she was still in the car, but it had stopped. Asmo didn’t shake her, and she was glad of this, but he was looking at her rather expectantly. After blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she slowly got out of the vehicle. Together she and Asmo pulled the bags and boxes out of the trunk and made their way into the House of Lamentation. Soon they were neatly stacked inside her room, waiting for the day of the formal dinner and dance. At one point Lucifer came by to check to make sure that everything was appropriate, and by the expression on his face, Melody guessed that he was surprised to find nothing to criticize, which was quite a relief to her. If the Avatar of Pride himself thought it was good enough, then it must be so.
Even with her dress picked and approved, Melody’s worries about the upcoming retreat were still pretty strong. She didn’t know how to dance well, she didn’t have overly refined manners, and even if she did have those two things covered, she couldn’t assume that they would be the same here as they would be back home. After all, different human cultures had different ideas of proper manners and dress, and she wasn’t even among humans anymore. Except for Solomon, of course. But, they were the minority. And, assuming Solomon was who he claimed to be… Melody couldn’t even begin to think what his views on propriety would be after all this time. It wasn’t likely that the habits of an ancient Israelite king would still fit in with modern human culture. Though, she couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just pulling her leg; Melody knew she could be rather naïve and gullible at times.
Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to ask someone to help her with the dancing issue. While he wasn’t a mind reader, Beelzebub noticed that Melody was rather pensive at dinner the next day. It was just him and her at the dinner table, and he could tell that she wasn’t being her usual self. Generally, if she was done with her food because she was full or unwell, she’d hand it over to him. Or she’d finish it. Instead, she was just moving things around on the plate and sighing a lot. As much as he was tempted to just take the food, he pushed that impulse down. After all, Melody had never grudged him food just because it was hers, so he should at least find out what was wrong before taking action. In addition, her frail human body would hurt more from missing food than any of his brothers, who he commonly snatched food from. And, in all honesty, he was quite fond of her. She was… sweet.
“Something bothering you?” he asked her between mouthfuls.
“Oh? Me?” Melody looked up from her plate with surprise. “Um… I don’t know how to dance,” she said, after deliberating a few moments over whether or not to answer the question.
“Right. There’s a dance. I forgot about that.” Beel paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Usually I just stand around and snack on anything left over from the dinner. Not much of a dancer.” He thought about it for a bit. “Neither is Levi. He’ll either be holed up in a corner, chat with Satan between dances, or leave entirely.” After a few more swallows, he continued. “Honestly, I think Asmo and Mammon are the only ones who really enjoy dancing, though they prefer more informal meetings. Lucifer and Satan are, of course, excellent dancers, but I suspect they don’t overly enjoy it. And Belphie…” Beel’s face fell. Belphegor had always been there before, usually falling asleep before more than a couple of songs had played, but he was a good dancer. This year, though, he wouldn’t be here. Maybe he was dancing with some nice humans or angels.
“It’s okay Beel; you’re allowed to miss him, even if Lucifer doesn’t want him talked about,” Melody said gently, giving Beel a little bit of a smile. “I know he got sent away, and I’m here instead of him, but… I’m glad I got to meet you and your brothers.” And, she wasn’t just saying that to comfort him; she was glad. Though some of them still scared her or made her uncomfortable, the ones she had connected with made the whole trip worth it. Still, everything Beel told her pretty much confirmed her earlier suspicions, which also made her happy. It meant that she actually had a pretty good understanding of the people she was living with. That meant progress, both for her and for Lord Diavolo’s program.
“Thank you for saying that, Melody,” Beel said honestly, forgetting the greatly diminished pile of food in front of him for the time being. Melody was so nice and understanding. He wondered, for a moment, how Lucifer and Lord Diavolo managed to find this sort of human. People like Melody didn’t consort much with demons. Still, he imagined Lord Diavolo probably had a network of trusted demons roaming around the human realm incognito looking for candidates. While the Demon Prince often seemed whimsical in his wishes, when he did start enacting a plan, he was fairly meticulous in actually planning something. Of course, that was largely to the credit of his butler, arguably one of the most competent, and powerful, demons in the realm. Though, it was his competency in the kitchen that impressed Beel the most personally. That thought was enough to remind him of his plate of food, so he started eating again.
The conversation seemed to help Melody too, because she also began eating again, though much slower. When she was satisfied, she pushed the rest of her food towards Beel with a smile. Since she stayed at the table, he could only guess that it was simple fullness, rather than distress, that made her relinquish the rest of her meal. The two of them had a sort of pattern. He gave her fairly big portions, she would eat what she needed, and then he would finish. That way, she had her needs taken care of without worrying about him, and even if he snatched some food, it was usually excess anyhow. True, it had taken them a few tries to get the quantities right, but, Melody was always patient with him. And, if one of the other brothers had to get her more food the few times they messed up, she never lost her patience or temper with him.
“If you’re worried about the dance, though, I wouldn’t be. Everyone knows you’re an exchange student, so if you don’t know something that isn’t covered in classes, I don’t think anyone will bother you because of it. If Lucifer thought it was something you needed to know, he would have done something about it already,” Beel pointed out. “Just try your best. That’s all Lord Diavolo wants, and in this case, he’s the only one that matters. Other demons will usually fall in line, especially when he’s standing right there.”
Melody nodded gratefully. Of all the brothers, Beel seemed the most consistently honest. Not that she felt Levi or Mammon deceived her out of spite or malice, but they were so busy denying how they felt or pretending to not care about things, that it was sometimes hard to sort out the truth from the deflections. Lucifer would always put forth the most smooth or controlled face until it shattered, and then pick up the pieces. She was still withholding judgment on Satan and Asmo as far as truthfulness went. So, she took Beel’s words as comfort with her to bed that evening, hoping that everything would turn out for the best.