The light shimmered and fractured like shattered glass as Saint Peter extended his hand over the tranquil waters of Heaven’s Garden. A spark danced on his fingertips, growing into an orb of radiant magic. Muttering ancient words, Peter’s form began to change. White feathers receded, replaced by tawny fur. His legs bent, becoming slender and agile, hooves forming where once there were sandals. A majestic rack of antlers crowned his head, giving him the perfect disguise: a sinner deer, very cute and unassuming.
Satisfied, Peter glanced at his reflection in the waters. A chuckle escaped his lips. “Not bad for a Saint, if I do say so myself. Alastor won’t see this coming.”
Eager to show his boyfriend, he teleported away in a flash of light, landing in the outskirts of Hell. The air grew heavy and thick with the unmistakable tang of sin and brimstone. Around him, twisted trees clawed at the smog-filled sky, and the ambient hum of jazz music floated eerily from the towering radio spire in the distance.
Peter pranced through the underbrush, his hooves crunching softly on the scorched earth. He was careful to adopt the gait of a timid sinner, darting his head as if searching for predators. He grinned to himself, thinking about Alastor's face when he realized who the "deer" truly was as he teleported into the radio tower. Once inside, he shed his robes and stayed in a green loincloth as he lay on the couch and waited for Alastor to return.
While it was a lovely surprise, he didn’t anticipate the potential territorial reaction when Alastor would detect an unfamiliar scent in his private domain…
