VESPER

THE PLOT THUS FAR:

(I didn't just wanna write the plot point blank, so I wrote it like POV: Your at a movie night and your best friend is telling you the plot to the prequel movie so you have *context*)

We're diving into the wild world of Vanessa LaBlanc, this mega-popstar who goes by the stage name Vesper in the Pride Ring. But here's the kicker: her climb to stardom? It's only been about seven years! Insane, right?

So, her smash hit 'The Devil You Know' rockets to the top of 'Hell's Hottest Hits'. It's like her big breakout moment, and suddenly, everyone's got their eyes on her.

But here's where it gets interesting: turns out, she's been hanging out at the Hazbin Hotel, but not just for kicks. Nope, she's on this super-secret spy mission, keeping tabs on things. And her deal with Vox? Let's just say their whole working relationship is one big question mark.

Then there's this whole issue about her being under some soul contract with Vox, so it's not all rainbows and sunshine. But Charlie, being the sweetheart she is, rallies everyone to support Vesper at this major award ceremony, and guess what? She totally wins and takes home the prize!

But after that, Vesper goes MIA, ghosting everyone's texts and calls. Finally, when she resurfaces, it's because she's been tied up shooting some ad campaign. Turns out, her and Vox had this major fallout over the ad's ethics.

And get this: the product of the ad? Love Potions! Vesper's kinda backed into a corner she doesn't think its right - but Vox makes her do it anyway! You can see the strain it puts on her and Vox's relationship. It's messy, to say the least.

Then there's this whole backstory between Vesper and Angel Dust, like they used to hate each other and Valentino admits to being the reason behind it. But now that she's staying at the Hotel, they seem to have made up! Val's flipping out, convinced Vesper's up to something, but Vox is tells Val to calm down, because 'it's not like before' that she's 'under contract now'.

Things really hit the fan when Vesper and Vox have this big blow up over some news article about her going public with staying at the Hazbin Hotel. But in the middle of all the drama, you can see there's this genuine care between them, buried beneath all the chaos.

And then there's the bombshell about Vesper's new album, 'Absolution', which Vox drops on her out of nowhere. She's not thrilled, especially when she finds out the album cover's shot in Val's flooded studio, and she has a deep-rooted fear of water.

Things get tense between Vesper and Angel, too. He's worried sick about her, but she's not having any of it. And then after the album shoot, her relationship with Vox starts unravelling big time.

The image by itself! :D

Chapter One: Old Grudges Everyone loves a good game, the push and pull of power - the delicate dance of ownership. It begins with a glance, a look across a crowded club – a singular moment of recognition sparking the flame for a blaze of new circumstances.

The prize?

In hell, a bed of sinners all scrambling, scampering over one another to reach the top – there really is only one prize worth winning.

Something far more precious than mere material possessions. The acquisition of one’s very being: their soul.

Angel knew this dance all too well. He knew the give and take, being trapped slowly, limb by limb, not realising the danger until he had already lost. 

This is how he found himself where he was right now. Outside the very tower that holds him prisoner on a daily basis – the Princess of Hell standing right next to him. A quick look at Charlie’s face showed him a reflection of his own apprehensive emotions.

With a deep breath, Angel swallowed the lump in his throat – uncharacteristically quiet.

“Are you sure we should be here?” Charlie’s voice was clipped, her usual peppy cadence flattened by the weight of all that’s been left unsaid.

“You want the hotel to succeed?” Angel’s reply was stilted but cut an edge of resistance. 

“You know I do” Charlie’s hand finds his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Then we need her”. 

A look of resolution paints Angel’s face as he steps forward, the automatic doors of the Vee’s tower opening obediently as he strides forward.

The screams, shouts and sirens of Hell deaden as the doors slid closed behind them. The familiar thudding of bass, enveloping the two – Angel recognises it as her music. The kind of pop-rock that worms its way into your head, and before you know it you find yourself humming the lyrics while you wash the dishes. 

With a small squeeze from Charlie’s hand, Angel recovers enough to put one foot in front of the other. The pounding music gets louder, the deep base vibrating the walls.

“So…” Charlie pipes up, filling the silence with nervous talking. “How did you meet her?”

Angel shrugs nonchalantly, hoping to summon the look of indifference. “She works for Vox, who works with my Bos-“ he cuts himself short “-with Valentino”. 

Angel takes a few more strides before he finds himself also needing to fill the quiet. “She- doesn’t like me much”.

Charlie tilts her head, frowning lightly. “Why?”

Angel runs an anxious hand through his hair. ” Cause I, well you know how I am – how I was before this Hotel shit.”

Charlie nods sagely, understanding Angel’s boundaries enough now to not press the subject further. “Gosh, but a pop star – I’ve been listening to her music since she debuted.” She looks up at Angel trying to judge his reaction, his gaze is still fixed down the hall. “Even Vaggie likes her music.” Angel looks down at her, a cheeky smile on his face.

“No fucking way!” He laughs “Now that’s a surprise.”

Charlie nods in agreement.

“Vesper is…” Angel tried to think of a nice way of putting it “a bitch” he sighs giving up. “Just be prepared for a rejection – I-I’m not even sure she would want to talk to me.”

Angel pulls them to a stop, the door standing impassively in front of them bearing her name, the V looping from a heart into the rest. Charlie adjusts her grip on Angel, swinging him gently to look at her.

“Angel, you are the sweetest, the kindest guy I know” The pep slowly comes back to her tone as she continues “Maybe you weren’t great to her back then – but you’ve grown up a lot since then.” She grips two of his hands and smiles widely at him “You’ve got this! We are doing this for Sir Pentious!”

Anthony takes a deep breath and Angel comes back to him, grinning widely. 

♫ ♩ ♫

A heeled boot taps impatiently against the tiled floor of a dressing room. Deep thumping music keeps rhythm with the sharp clicking of her foot.

Inky black boots give way to a dusky pale blue ankle, the splattering of freckles found there trails up to curved hips barely contained by a tight skirt. Above which holds the plane of a flat stomach and a set of Satan-gifted tits. 

Said pair of long legs and tits, sits, leaning back in a chair, the backrest emblazoned with her name. One hand scrolling absentmindedly on her phone, the popstar holds a can of sickly-sweet energy in her other – taking intermittent sips. 

A team of stressed-looking imps dance around her, pulling and pinning her obnoxiously floor-length hair into a high ponytail. 

The picture of a perfect pop star.

Vesper was having a good day. A great day even.

Hour 13 of the music videos for her new EP was going smoothly, as was the ad campaign for said EP and she was having a merciful break from the sweaty studio to boot! 

Her thumb double tapped on a photo – Vox, arm wrapped tightly around her waist as she gives the camera the middle finger – wolfish grin plastered on her face. His lips curled into one of his most impressive megawatt smiles, the caption reading: ‘My seventh year working with this absolute powerhouse of a pop star! This one’s for you Ves, here’s to seven more!’

A small fond smile creeps up on her face; he remembered their anniversary.

Speak of the Devil.

A sharp shock of wrists and ankles brought Vesper out of her fond stupor. Vesper’s smile fell, giving way to her normal petulant frown.

“There’s my money maker!” the sound of classic poker slot jingles emended from a spot behind her head.

A middle finger was all Vesper gave the man she called Boss as a greeting. The clicking of wingtip shoes against the tile, a steady hand tilted her chin up from her phone, her eyes found the mirror in front of them. 

“What’s got Hell’s favourite Siren so out of sorts?!” 

Vesper gave the man a harsh glare through the mirror framing them both perfectly.

Vesper hated when he would do this, checking in on her. You’d think seven years was enough time to gain a modicum of trust from old Pixel Brain, but she had underestimated just how much of a control freak he could be.

It was seven years ago that Vesper had signed the contract. Eight years since she had brute-forced her way into his office proposition in tow. Eight years since that night.

A metallic hand slid around her shoulder, the cold metal leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin. Vox’s hand found what it was looking for – a chunky V-shaped cuff that clung to her neck. Similarly shaped cuffs adorn her wrists and ankles. Some might say jewellery, but they both knew what it was: a physical manifestation of her contract. A visible message to everyone - herself including – just who owned ‘Hell’s Favourite Siren’.

Vesper wasn’t dumb, nor was she naïve. This was a purposeful transaction. Vesper was a businesswoman at heart, and since her fall into Hell; Vesper had put that heart into action.

Vesper dropped her phone, the sparkling blue tech vanishing into the ether. Handing her drink to the awaiting hands of her hell-born assistants Clay and Cole the popstar finally spoke. 

“You messed up my hair with your static bullshit” she growled swatting at his claw and playing with her necklace.

A chuckle came easily to Vox, his companion had always been quick to temper. It seemed he was drawn in by those with a short fuse. 

“Apologies, you know I always want you perfect.”

“Let Clay and Cole do their job then! Go back to whatever crawlspace you apparated from and Let. Me. Work.” The popstars ever tapping feet, accelerated – the music keeping up with the tempo change. Electric guitar picks up in the melody – adding a sting of what could only be described as frustration to the catchy beat. 

Vox’s steady fingers started working, combing through her tresses, pinning, teasing, and spraying her hair into the perfect high pony. She could feel the drag of cold metal against her scalp, it felt like a ripple of electricity zipping up her spine. 

As he finished, he leant down – pressing the plastic of his screen against her cheek. “See. ꝑēɍӻēȼⱦ.” 

Vesper rolled her eyes at him a small smile betraying her fondness of her boss, before pushing him away again before standing.

Vox watched the star stretch out - arms above head, assessing her face, the cut of the clothing, the shape of her hips. A hum of satisfaction passed his lips, He had chosen well when he decided to take a chance on this nobody sinner.

“How long do I have?” Vesper grabbed her drink back from Clay. Even when talking her voice was trained, and measured, phone appearing from nowhere in her hand she turned away from him.

“Ten minutes, forty-five seconds-“ Vox is cut short as two figures breech the door of Vesper’s dressing room. Vox’s signature smile falls at the sight of his least favourite porn star. Before his eyes widened at another truly unexpected sight; Charlie Morningstar.

He snuck a glance over at Vesper, trying to gauge her reaction to the unlikely pair walking through the door. Her face was painted with a look of indifference, but the grip on her drink was so tight that her knuckles were white. 

She was angry.

His smile returned quickly “Miss Morningstar!” the lanky man quickly cleared the distance between them slinging a casual arm around the princess. “What a surprise! What brings you to my beautiful studio?!” He leans in more lowering his voice “I heard your last trip here was rather… warm?”

You could cut the tension with a knife.

Vesper cocks one hip to the side “Better be careful of any electronics in the area Boss, no one likes a re-run”. 

This elicits a chuckle from the CEO, and with a confident stride forward, Vox takes his place standing right next to Vesper again.

“You are so right Ves, so, Charlie - how can WE help you TODAY?!” He pulls Vesper in by the waist and raises an eyebrow at the two expectantly.

“Well…” Charlie begins, pushing down the growing sense of anger in her stomach. “As you know, the Hotel is having… a hard time recruiting new demons.” She pauses, desperately trying to find the right words. “And we were hoping… that Vesper…”

Vox’s grip on Vesper’s waist tightens possessively at the sound of Vesper's name.

“Would come play shows at the Hotel! It would draw in new people and it would be so much fun and you could meet all of Angel’s new friends…” Charlie continues quickly and excitedly like the floodgates of a new idea breaking open. But her speech was nothing but static to Vesper's ears, she was furious. Her eyes pinned Angel to the wall, her grip on her drink coiling, closing until it crumpled under her grip. The sticky liquid flowed down her wrist and fell in droplets from her elbow.

The song blaring against the speakers sharply changes, heavy metal piercing through them.

“God, you are just the WORST.” Vesper's voice was filled with unending malice. Sharp and cruel, an entirely different tone than when she snaps at her boss. 

“Oh, here we go…” Angel huffs rolling his eyes.

“After all this time, no calls, not even a fucking text” the star begins to take slow strides towards Angel. “And now, when I’ve finally made something of myself - here you are” Another stride arms stretched wide, she was closing in on her target.

“I would feel bad for you knowing how absolutely pathetic this is, but that would mean I gave a FUCK about you, and clearly” the pop star gestures to the room around her “I’ve got better things going on”. Vesper finally closes the gap, poking Angel directly in the chest. Charlie shifts quickly, pushing Vesper’s arm away from Angel – standing between the two. Horns growing, hair flowing.

Angel was right, she is a bitch.

Vesper laughs, moving backwards – ignoring Charlie completely, centring her deadly glaze on Angel. Her look was probing, assessing; like from one look, she could know everything about someone, right down to their underwear choice. Like she was taking in all eight years of change 

‘Using more people to hide behind? Wow, we really have ascended Angel, whose dick did you have to suck to get the Princess of Hell to stand up for you? Never mind, we all know the answer is everyone and anyone” Vesper’s arms crossed with a satisfied smile. The music fades, the tension in the room so thick that you could reach out and grip it.

“And… CUT!” Vox strides back up to Vesper, arm slung around her shoulder – the red dot on the upper right corner blinking off. “That’s gonna go viral Dove.” He whispers into the crook of her neck. Vesper’s smile turns wolfish.

“Well! Looks like you got the answer you came here for!” 

“Fuck. You. Ves.” Angel grits out through clenched teeth, his one golden tooth gleaming under the room's neon lights. 

Vesper raises a single delicate eyebrow by way of response.

“Okay, I think that’s our cue to leave Angel” the Princess begins to shuffle Angel out of the room.

“You’re so fuckin’ sore about something that happened eight years ago! You should really take the time to bend over and remove the stick from your ass. Uptight bitch doesn’t suit you, Nessie” Angel threw out her nickname like a soldier would throw a javelin.

The spear finds its target. Vesper’s grin drops, contempt quickly replacing it. Vox’s grip tightens as she goes to take a step forward, keeping her in place. 

‘I’m surprised you have time to be concerned with my ass – when your heads so far up your own, Toni” She pulls out the weapon made of something that used to be fond and hurls it right back at him. 

Before it finds its mark Vox interrupts them “You should listen to your therapist Angel. She seems like the smart one between the two of you.” He pauses looking Charlie up and down before adding “And that’s saying something”. 

After one last long glare between Angel and Vesper, the dressing room door slams shut, leaving the two separate pairs seething. 

♫ ♩ ♫

“Fucking CUNT – I can’t believe that shit!” Angel spat, one of four hands running soothingly through his locks. “I mean I expected it to be awkward, she had a vicious tongue even back then – but fuck me! That’s not the same Ves I knew”.

Angel was pacing, back and forth in the dingy alley flanking the Vee’s tower. Charlie’s eyes follow back and forth as he does so, seemingly lost for words.

“The Ves I knew, hated Vox. She didn’t take any bullshit from no one”

A flash of a memory: Vesper lying on his couch legs draped lazily over the armrests. It was a quiet moment after one of Val’s episodes. She chucked a note, the folded butterfly landing smoothly on his desk.

“You hold more power than you think Toni. Remember, you’re the prize – not him”

Stuck back into the present - Angel’s pacing paused, turning to his wide-eyed companion.

“How could someone change so much in so little time?”

Charlie hums thoughtfully - taking her time to answer, “You know how you put on the mask of Angel?” Angel gives a single nod in affirmation. “Well, some people just forget it’s a mask – they don’t take it off and it just becomes who they are”. Charlie pats Angel on the shoulder “I think I’m done with this place Angel, let go home”. 

Angel agrees it’s been a long night – though a small thought nagged in the back of his mind. 

Would he have turned out like that if he never moved to the Hotel?

You say Angels don’t make mistakes The very ground you walk on is Sacrosanct You say Angels don’t make mistakes The very ground you walk on is Sacrosanct You make me wanna commit more Violence You make me wanna rise up and try him You make me wanna commit more Violence Lets break our shackles, the time is nigh BITCH You say Angels don’t make mistakes The very ground you walk on is Sacrosanct You say Angels don’t make mistakes The very ground you walk on is SACROSANCT! You commit the same violence and sin as everybody else The only difference is your in heaven, and I’m in Hell Tell me what would make you commit to ringing sweet Charlie’s bell? Was it to prevent war? Looks like that’s GOING WELL!

Where is your top bitch – oh right - he jumped ship to leave Well technically he was killed by a 3ft chick named NIFTY You know the same doll, all she does is clean What was it that ADAM called you? Oh right – you’re FUCKIN’ WEAK And I, will defy Until I die, a second time

INTRO:

SUBTITLES: Ah, good evening, my devilish comrades! It's been an eternity since I last graced the airwaves! What with those celestial attacks and constructing a spiffy new studio, I've been positively swamped. So, do pardon my absence from our nightly rendezvous. But fear not, for I've returned with a vengeance, ready to regale you with tales that'll send shivers down your spine! But before we delve into the depths of the night, let's ponder a question that's been buzzing in the back of our minds: Is VoxTek Angelic Security as impenetrable as it claims? Or are we merely being hoodwinked by the corporate demons? Fear not, my friends, for we shall uncover the truth. But first, let's kick off this evening with a toe-tapping tune, "Let the Good Times Roll" by the incomparable Louis Jordan. So, let's not waste a moment more, shall we? Or as they say: Laissez le bon temps rouler!

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YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO BE ON THE SHOW? TW: Screaming, Crying, Someone is in PAIN BEWARE! (Also, I can't tell if its cringe or not)

SUBTITLES: The song slowly comes to an end, when the mic goes hot again you can hear someones panicked breathing along with Alastor humming. There is the sound of a knife hitting the table and then a scream. ALASTOR: Quiet now dear - You’re ON AIR. Can you be quiet for me now? VICTIM: mhm... ALASTOR: Yes? VICTIM: Yes. ALASTOR: Good. While I finish up with our distinguished guest here, let me deliver you a delightful ditty, that is just the perfect amount of ironic considering our current company. Here is "Nobody Knows You When You're Down and Out" by the sensational Bessie Smith. The breathing gets more intense until they scream, but their scream is cut short as the mic goes cold again.

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AIRWAVE ALERTS w ALASTOR!

SUBTITLES: Wasn't that just the most delectable interruption. Well as promised: Here is Airwave Alerts with Alastor. There seems to be a string of murders in the Mafia and Weapons District of Pentagram city! You heard me right, murders! It seems that the perpetrator is using angelic bullets to take out their targets. And although I would like to stake a claim on these murders, I cannot take credit for another's work. While the culprit remains a mystery, where they seemed to have acquired the weaponry is not. Unusually Carmilla Carmine has seen fit to stay silent on the topic. One would hope that she would be able to make a public statement soon.  Ah, while you mull over that jaw-dropper, let me serenade your senses with a tune that'll have you tappin' your toes and hittin' the road in style! It's none other than "Route 66" by the legendary Nat King Cole. So sit back, relax, and let the smooth sounds of this classic take you on a ride down that ol' highway of dreams!

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UPDATE ABOUT CHARLIE:

SUBTITLES: Ah, listen up, denizens of the infernal realm! It's time for a little update from the Princess of Hell itself. Seems our friend Charlie Morningstar has taken matters into her own hands, bless her devilish heart. She's put forth a petition for those brave souls willing to stand tall in the face of the next extermination - should it come to that, of course. Now, I hate to rain on anyone's parade, but our heavenly counterparts up above have been keeping mum on the matter. And let me tell you, my dear fiends, that's not exactly music to our ears! But fear not, for there's a glimmer of hope yet! If you're ready to lay down your very essence to defend our infernal home from these angelic invaders, then you best hotfoot it over to the Notice Board smack dab in the centre of cannibal town. Sign your name with pride, for in unity lies our strength! (slightly less enthusiastic) Or something along those lines. With that obligatory bit of unpleasantness addressed, my dear listeners, it's time to lighten the mood and spread some cheer! This next tune is dedicated to none other than our beloved Charlie Morningstar, the beacon of hope in this dark and dreary place. So kick back, relax, and let the melodies of "You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile" by Charles Strouse and Martin Charnin wash over you. Remember, my dear souls, even in the depths of Hell, a smile can work wonders!

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GOSSIP ABOUT VESPER:

SUBTITLES: Well, well, well, my curious listeners, have I got a spicy tidbit for you! It seems our resident pop sensation, the one and only Vanessa LaBlanc better known by her stage name Vesper, has been spotted gallivanting around town in the company of none other than Asmodeus, the King of Lust himself! Now, isn’t that a twist? It's been a hot minute since the Cardinal Sin of Lust graced the Pride Ring with his presence. So, what devilish plans could he be concocting with our delightful Vanessa? Ah, my dear sinners, the plot thickens! But fear not, for yours truly will be keeping a close eye on this tantalizing tale. So stay tuned, my friends, for the juiciest gossip this side of Hell. Up next the weather! But before we delve into the forecast, let's soar among the stars with the timeless crooner himself, Frank Sinatra! It's time to let the velvety voice of Ol' Blue Eyes serenade us with "Fly Me to the Moon." So close your eyes, let the music carry you away, and dream of celestial delights as we prepare for the weather—though, as I suspect, the forecast may indeed call for a storm of scandal!

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