Chapter Text
He'd sealed the next letter with a kiss. Creamy, red-tinted paper, the seal was a gorgeous rich red, with his blood. And he's kissed the seal, hopeful, that maybe love could get the letter there.
Behind him, the shadow watched over him still. It tapped it's wrist, like that would change anything. Alastor rolled his eyes, looking up at the soft glass ceiling. "Sorry. I told you. Don't wanna." The shadow screeched at him, like that would fix it. Desperate at this point. "You know, I'm busy. Tomorrow is big, don't you think?" Yes, the shadow nodded. But it was never too late to get rest. Even a little.
Still, the redhead continued to stand. His notebook covered with plans, ideas, stories, all the different experiences. In the bottom left corner, the man made dot points, important topics, for both girls, for individual lesson plans. He wanted the lessons to be perfect. Lest... they choose someone else. Or not be prepared for what was coming. "Heaven would eat them alive." The man was sure. He couldn't let Heaven succeed.
...
He had been painting the front windows. A simple thing, really. Dressed in his torn clothes, patched up swiftly (thanks to the kind shadows help). Shadows awaited bellow, as he was currently towards the top of the building. Not that ne needed their help, but Hell's love was overbearing sweet like that, at times.
Positioned with the claws and body lent against the hotel wall, the man stood, sand paper in his hand. He ran his fingertips over the latest section fixed, sawdust coating his hands like flour dough. Sighing, the man tested the flatness, feeling it satisfyingly against his hands, smooth under his fingers, the man smiled. The shadows under him awed, reaching up towards his platform, a gentle level for him to fall against, but he refused them, edging around the window frame, pushing off from it over the gap between the windows, to catch his arms against the decorated window top of the next window to sand. The shadows around him cheered at his acrobatics, but all Alastor could think of was the new, rough window texture against his hands. The splitting wood, the fracturing paint, the-
Alastor felt a sensation first. Something was coming at him. The shadows wrapped instinctively around his waist, pulling him away just in time. He tried to pull himself back, pulling up a barrier spell. It helped sure, but the window was still singed beside him. The red eared man hissed ears flattening for a moment. It may have been a window untouched but by fuck, it was one of his windows.
Note to self. Make hotel fire and explosion resistant, Alastor decided. The shadows put the man down on the ground, where he came face to face with a giant balloon. He could see the face of the man inside, excitedly talking to the eggs around him. "I got him! Did you see that? Finally, the Vee's will take me on as their riva-" The man's eye was stabbed by an incoming wine cork, a gush of falling champagne hitting the balloons glass viewing screen. Hiding them all from the elk's view. Hastily, the driver of the flying skybus tried to fix it's minions mistakes. Alastor took the chance to straighten himself, standing politely.
"It seems you wished to get my attention." The red elk called to the man. "You have it. How may I assist you?" He asked, with a soft bow. Finally getting the windscreen wipers to go, the snake inside came face to face with the charming display, mouth going lax in surprise. Alastor stood, waiting, as the man blushed. A minion harped the man to speak his wants.
"I- you!" The man sputtered, his tail shaking behind him. "You will... Yield!"
The overlord shook his head calmly, solemnly. "I'm afraid that's not something I can allow to happen, unfortunately." The redhead insisted. "I am a busy and quite important man. Things will become quite out of touch if I dissapear for too long." The red demon insisted, seriously. Imploring the man to understand. "But, perhaps I can give you something else, something just a meaningful. To be recommended, I heard... perhaps, I could provide you a letter of recommendation?"
"A what now?" The snake asked again.
"Why, yes!" Alastor assured. "I can write it up for you. The mastermanship it takes to build such a spectacular flying machine, and the power of the explosives. I will write you a personal letter of recommendation. I can even get the signature of someone higher up. Then they'd have no reason to question you."
The man looked surprised, parking his flying machine, while destroying half of the hotel's garden. He raced across the cement, tears barely contained. "You'd do that for me?!" The sinner cried out, nearly sobbing, wiping at his nose.
"Why, of course." The deer reached out for the snakes shaking hands. "I tell the truth about what I see. You only need to ask."
...
Two days later, Sir Pentious was slithering down the street, a giant, giddy smile on his face, as he came to see the hotel again. The tall building had a major facelift since he left. The outside was painted with softer colours, the sharp points of the window ledging smoothed out. Dainty little animal shapes had been added to the outside of the hotel, a tall baby pink fence surrounded a new veranda out the hotel front, topped with a giant letterbox, and more colourful boxes on the otherside of the fence. Birds sung overhead, and Sir Pentious watched in absolute surprise and curiosity as some made their way into cute little bird boxes attached to the outside of the fence. A wind chime blew above, the snake also noted, a light reflected from a few, plain, dangling crystals.
"This is lovely." The man whispered to himself, suddenly speechless at what remained around him. Flowing blankets under lined rooftops. The man hummed, stepping up to the entry way. A welcome sign was spread above, another soft pink, with patches of a soothing crimson-mauve colour, dark like a plum, or a kind, jolly womans blush.
Stepping inside the little space, Sir Pentious was met with a full table of people, all looking slightly uncomfortable. And there was a heavenly smell. "So, that is the last of the meal." The redhaired radio demon's voice reached above the rest. "It may be seven smaller courses, or less. But either way, the proper utensils should be used and the techniques respected."
A blonde girl sat, facing away from the sign. "So.. fork in left? No! It's the right! Right?"
A soft laughed, red claws stroking through the blond hairs from where he sarmt beside her. "You were correct the first time, darling. Though it is the poise that matters. Shoulders up, elbows off the table. And what do we say for the food?"
"Erm..." An ashy looking man noticed his presence, as the girl continued to shift. But, he could see the snake meant no harm. Hesitantly, he tossed the man a cinnomen roll from the table, biting into his own again. The snake eyed the figures closely. "We say, "Thank you for having us?"
Alastor shook his head again, smile sweet. A single glowing eye watched him from the side of the table. "It's extremely important to recognise exactly who gave you and provided the food. You would thank the hosts, then the chefs and house keepers. Even if you do not name them, respect is what gets you places. It is polite to be kind. Any compliments are good compliments, even when they are unexpected. They are still a recognition of the gratitude at others providing for you."
Sir Pentious cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Sir Radio Demon, Sir?" The redhead turned, looking at the other. His smile was wide and silky, looking the other up and down. He paused, ears flicking, as he looked at a table closer to the doorway, next to a nice outdoor seat.
"It appears, I have lost track of time, I am afraid." The redhead states, turning behind him. "Sir Pentious, it is delightful to see you again." The elk nods politely. "I was just teaching table manners, enjoying the later morning glow. It appears, morning has escaped us though." A thoughtful pause. "How may I be of assistance."
Blushing, the snake demon shifted back and forth, awkwardly. "I just... wanted to thank you. I, finally got a job with my business partner's, thanks to you!" The snake smiled, fangs sharp and gleaming brightly. "They really respected you, and expressed how much your recognition affected their hiring process."
"Not at all." Again, the deer waved it off. "I may be a trusted person, but it was your own skills as an inventor, a visionary, and a charismatic person that got you where you are. They led you to me." The man assured. "Have more respect in yourself. You have great skills, and a good heart!" The snake stuttered, trying to make excuses. "You will do great things, I am sure."
And suddenly, that smile dropped, chest tightening. Alastor paused, wiping a hand over his eye, removing the sleepy dust in the dewdrop crevice. Though Sir Pentious could tell himself, could see he was using this way in, lining up, just as planned. He suddenly, didn't want to. But... he'd worked so hard to get here. With his machines, his track record. Approaching The Radio Demon in the first place. Would his bad intentions make the man see him as less worthy. Especially as the person who was meant to spy on was not only the man, but the man next to the blond who's hair the man's hand rested against?
It was too late to recalculate now. Sir Pentious turned to The Princess, clearing his throat. "Your majesty, I was wondering if... you would take another sinner on the path to redemption?" To say The Princess was overjoyed was an understatement. She ran at the snake with open arms, much to Alastor's shaking head. Etiquette wasn't taught in a day. It would take more than a few lunches before the girls were even remembering that, and with Charlie's kind nature and overflowing passion... some things may never change. He would be happy enough if the girls following words were aligned with courtesy, and not... an excited word salad. But Alastor knew it would come. It had to.
Vaggie was the one who pulled Charlie off the snake. Her golden eyes was calculating, stance tense, hands itching for the feeling of her spear protectively in her grasp. But she held. "Weren't you the one who damaged the hotel the other day?" The girl asked the snake swiftly. "I don't know what letter Alastor gave you, but I can tell you this is a non-violent space. We don't want any physical trouble here. It's part of the rules."
The snake hissed, shoulders going up at the girls rudeness. "It seemed I am unwanted here." The man mentioned, looking back to the supposedly push-over of a Princess. "But I have nowhere left to go."
Those red eyes were on the man again, now seriously considering. But The Princess was quickly racing back towards the man, reaching to provide him comfort. "Everyone deserves to have a home." The girl insisted, turning to Vaggie. "You made the poor man upset. Can't you apologise?"
Shaking her head, the shield maiden gave her girlfriend a serious look. "Charlie. He is a snake. Literally." Vaggie reminded, arms crossed. "He damaged the hotel, ran into Alastor. If Alastor wasn't here, we would have been open prey for the guy."
Sir Pentious glared at the other girl. "Are you trying to call me untrustworthy? Slimey, even. Like a snake." The man huffed. "Not all snakes are bad, you know?" He insisted. Vaggie raised an eyebrow.
"The only snake I know so far has tried to destroy my hotel. So far, you're giving snakes a bad name."
Charlie bristled at that. "I'll have you know, my Dad is a snake!" Vaggie looked at her, so did Sir Pentious. Even Husker raised an eyebrow, helping himself to yet another delicacy from the table as he watched. "Well, I mean, he's at least part snake. But mostly."
"I believe more information is for the man himself to deliver, from his own lips." Alastor mentioned respectfully. "But be that as it may, I must admit, Vaggie. Our hotel could do with more tenants. This hotel has too many vacancies." The girl looked at him oddly. "Harm comes and goes like the winds of better tomorrows. In pain, we shall stay and love. And in light, we will share what we have." Alastor hummed, Vaggie looking at the smiling, peaceful seeming man, almost tensely. Said man summoned another set of cutlery, and an extra chair. "Why not stay for a lesson on table manners. And after that, Charlie and Vaggie have come up with their first activity of rehabilitation. I believe it will be quite exciting." Alastor assured the snake, who, hesitantly, sat beside the cat at the tables further end. "Now, where were we? That's right! Let us practice thanking for the meal! Your majesty?" Charlie took her seat again with an excited grin, Vaggie returning to the seat beside her.
"Right!" Charlie smiled. "I'm ready! So-!"
...
Humming, Alastor found himself making a quick trip down the street. With their new guest, they would need more food. And after the man's first meal, Alastor didn't wish to get to a point where anyone had to go hungry - though he knew he could with ease, it wasn't what he wanted or needed right now - and he could assure it wouldn't happen with a simple late night trip.
His shadow behind him howls as he goes, nagging him. 'Eat', 'sleep', 'think it through'. At this point, Alastor isn't listening still. He hums, questioning how much food he should actually buy. Sir Pentious ate cereal, he knew. The man had been obvious about a brand preferance, but they should probably have the generic brands on standby anyway. The man looked, collecting a few store brought snacks too, throwing them into the hell-red shopping cart. He continued down the halls, wondering if the man could do with some personal soap, shampoo, conditioner? When out of nowhere, words he didn't expect hit the airwaves loud and clear.
"-Condoms!" God, he wished he stayed home. Was it too late? The question left as soon as he came. Alastor was officially the advisor of one of the most important people in hell. He couldn't turn such an experience down. The man, also, had a point. The hotel had one very sex-positive member. Not to mention, the ladies. Some sinner still kept bodily autonomy. What about makeup? They might like it. At the very least, nail polish, which would also be down the next isle. He was sure Charlie would be especially delighted with such an activity. And so, he steeled himself, and continued down the isle way across, grabbing some things as he made his way down the isle.
The demon was still in the isle, trying to pick a brand. Respect was something earned, correct. The person was picking, having issues. Maybe he could offer his help.
"Yeah, and... A-ALASTOR!!!" The deer fought against his instincts, refusing to allow his ears to tip back, nor for his surprised bleat to escape. Crystal perfection, that's what he aimed for. Smile kind, calm, shoulder's back. Unaffected.
"Why hello there." Alastor said simply, reaching forward to gather together some of the condoms for his own cart. "It appears we are both shopping for a similar audience. Having trouble with choices? I'm sure I could help."
The TV head turned right away from him, face probably red. She had warned him, hadn't she? He banished the image as best as he could. Trying to stay present as best as he could, the deer watched the man's blue hands reaching for a red box. Strawberry flavoured. Perhaps the man was hungry, or perhaps not. He shuffled away, towards the other end of the isle, fiddling with his phone for a moment. "You?!" He pointed. "Get over! Here!" Alastor found himself waved over to the TV head, who threw his item into Alastor's cart without a second thought. He looked over the man's trolley. "Man, that's a lot of shit. Who are you shopping for?" The man went to pluck up the box of nailpolishes, enticed by the colours, before Alastor blocked his way. The man's pout didn't affect him, nor did the, originally '100% effective' literal puppy eyes. No it didn't. The man huffed, almost sounding salty.
Alastor didn't take his eyes off the man's. "If you want to look, get your own set." The redhead insisted, making the other overlord blink, before they tipped their head. And soon enough, they'd snatched the offer up, throwing a few extras in the cart as he went. The comfort of before, the closeness of one of his oldest friends in Hell, was returning to the man slowly.
"So." Vox leaned his hands behind his head. "You've been gone for years. What's up with that." The man's fake coolness faded away, his hugery eyes and bleeding mouth unfolding, watching the deer. "Where have you been?" When the deer was unaffected, the man considered him, watched. The perfect posture, the charming charisma, the perfect smile. Full control. God, he was like a different person. A stranger in an Alastor sized suit, with added unending smile and creepy aura. At least the shadow was still around the man, watching him, creepy as ever. Maybe even stronger than before. It wasn't a lot to go off of.
The way he spun, no staff in hand. Almost care free, but not really. It wasn't Alastor, never had been. And the way he used to ring the man like a bell, wasn't working. He wasn't... falling for it? It used to be one of his favourite things. But now, Alastor was just walking, casually, like they were barely friends. Buying things for him, talking with him sure, asking about the tower. But.
"...What the fuck is up with you, man?" Why did he seem so... lifeless, empty. Like his strings had been rung out. Like he didn't want to anymore.
Without warning, the man's ears shuffled. Eyes looking to the distance. Empty. "Sorry. It appears I'm needed elsewhere."
(Past)
'Sorry darling, but the world is in need of the, someday to be, King of Hell!' The boy had once said, full of excited energy.
Vox turned to his friend. 'Oh, you finally figured it out? You figured out how to dethrone Lucifer, have you?'
The man had laughed, from deep inside his chest. Ears tipped low, comfortable. 'I wish.' The man grinned wide. 'I will one day. Know I'll get there. But for now, I'm a wanted man.'
'Who wants you now?' The man had laughed. 'Is it Carmilla again? You fuck with her weapons, again? Like you always used to.' Like THEY had always used to, and Carmilla had know it, but somehow, Alastor always seemed to get the brunt of the woman. Probably cause Vox hadn't been nearly as risk-taking without the man's encouragement.
Alastor twirled. 'It's the sins now. Envy is all the rage. Mafia wars and stuff? It'll probably be over soon though.' The demons teeth shone.
(Past)
Perhaps the tiredness had always been in there. Maybe Vox had simply never noticed. "W-Where are you off to now?" The man had walked off, not turning back, ears not even flicking. The TV shivered, not meaning to, but man, the air was cold. Frightfully so. The knowledge of what that meant... The TV Overlord found his gut dropping. "Alastor...?"
"I'm at the hotel now." The man said simply, the checkout casheer screaming and running, instead of checking them out. Alastor shrugged, stepping into the man's spot to do it for him. Giving the man the proper change, and a tip, for some reason. He passed Vox his things in a seperate box. Everything was there, some other things might even be there too, but Vox couldn't see them. Could only feel them, extra weight in his hands. The fuck kind of magic was this.
Once upon a time, the two had robbed shops in Hell almost everyday. Nobody served them, so they just walked out, and nobody stopped them. It was exciting, thrilling. Vox still enjoyed it to this day, spreading out around all the rings just to experience different people nearly every time. But Alastor... did he not enjoy it anymore?
Alastor turned to his friends questioning red and black eyes. He hummed. "I am the representative of The King of Hell now." The man assured, locking and shutting down the cash register, lest someone else use it. "There's no point tarnishing the man's reputation. He has a busy schedule and loft goals, afterall."
"Oh." So, the man had completed some of his goals. "You... Lucifer...?"
"The King of Hell." So, what? Lucifer, right! Why did he have to remind him. Maybe to rub it in. They had chased the same dream once. But still, his voice was flat, his arms filling, before shadows came up behind them. Vox jumped at how many there were. A little army fighting for the man's bags, while he kept them for himself. "Anyway. I hope to see you again. Perhaps at the next Overlord meeting. I will be there."
Fuck... they had... he couldn't. "Sorry. I'll be missing it. Busy." Vox admitted. He hadn't been so downcast-sounding in a while now. Not so dejected in years. Sure, it was weird when Alastor left, and he mourned the man's possible death, but Alastor was too powerful to die, really. Or so Vox liked to think.
But maybe his spirit could?
Alastor pulled something from his pocket. A card? Vox flipped it, eyes hopeful, before finding himself empty handed. No number in sight. "You can ask for me." The man simply said. Vox tried to reason that the man must not have a phone, but still... Helper of Hell, surely he had...?
There was a whisper on the breeze. Vox's thoughts were sidetracked, as Alastor's eyes didn't move. But his ears flicked. A spark of something cold and powerful cracked on the air, before the man turned again. "I must depart. Appologies." Not another word was spoken, as Alastor walked out the door. His arms were full, but he didn't even try to wave, or to look back. Ears stiff and ahead. Looking forward, eyes hurting, shoulders down and hands twitching, a little shadow curled up before Vox. It circled under him, before the world lost sight of it.
The tendril wriggled up Vox's leg. Hopeful he could be helpful. Just like the master wished he could be. Helpful. The little curly shadow was sure. Dancing across the man's back, where he wouldn't be caught or seen.
He would keep the man safe. Just as Master asked. He'd insisted. That it would not be the other way around. Not like last time.
The little shadow was sure. Could be certain. Refused to be anything else.
Had. To. Be. Wouldn't fail him again, not before he would die.
Alastor stood, waiting, as the shade assured itself, that this task would be completed to perfection. Though the quiver was still there.
...
Alastor hummed against the counter. Midnight was coming soon, the lights of the hotel barely a whisper. Dimmed incase someone woke up. Or that was, what was suppose to happen. Sinners, and sleeping.
"No, no!" The redhead heard Angel's voice, whining in the distance. Standing, Alastor left his twinework where it was, slipping out into the corridor, and around, until he found a man face-first in the bar, crying his heart out. "Just one more!" The spider promised. "I'll be good! I swear."
Husker watched the man from about, cleaning a glass. He hadn't clued in on his boss' appearance yet, too busy with his golden eyes on the white spider before him. "You know you've had too many. You can't have another. Or, you'll get the hat again." The spider made an awful sound, trying to clear his throat. Alastor hummed, looking at the man. He knew what this was, or, he thought he did. Images he didn't want to remember, where he'd... held himself accountable. The thought that one of the residents here, was suffering so much. Alastor shook his head, making himself known.
"I was unaware." The redhead mentioned, causing both the residents at the bar to jump in surprise. The white spider turned, eyes red like fire underneath, mascara run and nose snotty. With a sorry smile, Alastor summoned the man a tissue box. "Is your Master so... awful, that the strain tugs on you so, Angel Dust?"
Stealing a tissue, the lanky spider curled into himself. "I'm... I'll be fine." He insisted. Discretely, in the darkness, Alastor's claws traced in his own blood. He hummed in though.
"You know...?" The redhead held out his hand. "His majesty may have offered me some powers that might, possibly, help this situation." Both members of the hotel looked at Alastor at those words. Alastor tried to ignore them, ignore the looks. But in truth, his head pumped. His eyes flicked, saw what they needed to. The shadows screamed, dancing around them. The largest, behind him, whispered in his head. 'Don't do it'. 'Too much power', 'mistakes'. Like it knew what he could do. Alastor refused to do wrong, to make mistakes. And he refused to let this sinner remain, struggling to breath, around this collar.
"What are you on about, Smiles?" Angel Dust wiped at his face, words short and shaky. "'m fine. I just said so."
He shook his head, offered the man his bloodied hand. "It would be a delight to free you, my friend." The other looked at the bloody hand in surprise, watching as blood, dark and menacing, dripped slowly, groggy and chunky.
"What do I haf'to pay?" The spider asked anxiously. Alastor shrugged, smiling politely.
"Do your best to redeem yourself. In the name of The King of Hell." The man's grin was wide, a magic, black and cruel, surrounding the man, a gust blowing things off the tables they sat upon. Alastor couldn't care, holding the magic back, soothing it, keeping it tame. Not something many could do. Even the shadow behind him, screaming, watched in awe, as the deer held the magic in his control. Eyes black, almost entirely, little red dials but a spot in the distance of darkness. "Take my hand. And so mote it be." The magic firmed up, black slithering up and around, latching onto Angel Dust, and his surroundings. The red cord got caught in the darkness. Alastor fostered the chains into his hand, blood sizzling against the chains, all of them, or, some. A large chunk, dripping onto the floor, like sizzling hot steel. "I replace your own deal with my own. But, I need to touch you, or your soul may drifted.
Behind him, the shadow blinked in surprise. Angel did too, watching, barely able to think of anything, watching the chain melt, feeling it's control over him melt away. Hesitantly, he let his hand settle in the stronger demons. He shook it, tiredly. And a flash hit the air, vibrant, pink-purple-red, like his eyes, like his... soul? It sizzled around Alastor, multiple times. Angel coughed, almost likrly he couldn't breath. But when the magic slowed, Alastor squeezed his hand. The dark magic curled with the soul, back through the links of the chain, and to the collar around his neck. When the soul slipped underneath it, the collar cracked like some plastic toy, shattering against the floor in huge, fake-seeming chunks.
Behind the chain, feeling around his neck, and sensing nothing but his soul there, in his skin, in his own body and... his soul was back!
Angel Dust fell flat against the bar, eyes rolled back. Husker barely had enough time to catch the man's head, yet another glass smashed to smithereens in the process. A rush of black magic had the cat shivering fur fluffed and on end. But seconds later, the show was over. Black blood came off dry against a tea towel, and the hurling magic settled. Alastor licked the blood off his lip, smiling, but it was something soft. Tired? No, the man didn't think so. More like a manic sugar rush, but he wasn't showing it.
"Please, assist Angel Dust to bed." Alastor insisted. "I must return to my study. Let the King know about this." The cat just blinked. "I'll have this cleaned by morning though, rest assured."
"Shouldn't that be Niffty's job?" Husker asked. But the man shook his head, assuring the man he would take care of it.
Inside his office, the shadow screamed again, words lost on the wind. Alastor smiled at it sadly, not saying a word. The sealed letters left into the air, signed, stamped, and assured. And finally, the elk could rest his tired hands, could let himself shift under his makeshift skin.
No rest for the wicked though. He chose to get up, to follow his word. It was the right thing to do, afterall.