My scribblings, concepts and ideas, both original and fanwork. I may or may not continue these. Most of these are not proofed. Updates come randomly. Open for prompts, but filling them will be sporadic.
Hazbin Hotel Scream Rain AU
Contributors in the comment section: @kiochii92, @correaceleste123, @ssree, @kitsunesongs, @renkamisato, @periguita, @mermaid-of-the-valley @ladyvsama
Summary:
What if the Scream Rain was a relatively recent phenomenon in Hell and is actually environmental contamination from the people Alastor traps in the airwaves?! The Seraphim, Lucifer and Charlie demand the release of the trapped souls when the screaming begins to infest Heaven’s Airwaves.
Except the people in the airwaves are in the airwaves for good reason…
Modern Overlords: They can't be that bad right?
Zestial: You are idiots.
Chapters 1-25 - Previous Chapters
Chapters 26-27 - You are Here!
Chapter 26: Theatre of Audio (Warfare)
Báthory shrieked in rage as Maestro's flames splashed harmlessly against her new sinnerskin cloak.
Nice to know his powers were flashy and somewhat distracting against an Overlord of her level but damn what a time to figure that out!
Maestro may have been a deer but unlike Alastor he did not have media powers.
Maestro came by his love of theatre honestly.
He hissed as his hooves nearly sunk into the near molten tarmac. Shame, his abilities’ might have been useful then, instead of draining too much power per ranged shot trying to maintain a flamethrower hot enough to burn anything other than hair!
It was humbling to know that these territory-less roaming Overlords fresh from decades long captivity were stronger that he was.
Maestro did not like humble.
Vlad the Impaler materialised and raised another spear through the ground like a high speed javelin with a grudge against heaven.
Maestro spat a slew of profanity and fire at the freak.
The Radio Demon who had also materialised out of the aether with zero warning, was having no such trouble and was in fact laughing madly as he punted several of Countess Bathory’s servants through the glass window of a nearby shop display and the concrete walls of the buildings behind it.
Combat came easy to the Radio Demon, Maestro mused feeling downright pissy as he tried to get enough space to set shit on fire!
No hesitation, no thought, just raw piss and vinegar, Glancing wounds were healed in moments with threads of green power that cut like knives.
Unbothered by the wounds Alastor was lunging forward the very next second in a howl of static and teeth.
Give him some garrotte wire and his old Maschinengewehr 42 any day!
Of all the days to have sent it to repairs, he doubted the machine gun would phase these two but at least he’d feel less naked.
Maestro’s horns extended and branched, the tips trailing off into smoke.
The tarmac ignited properly beneath all four of the overlords in a blue flame billowing black smoke like that emitted from old coal engine train, oily, greasy and rendering the two stags utterly invisible to their opponents.
Maestro hated being relegated to support mainly because it showed him where he’d been slacking in his magic.
He scrambled towards the biggest pile of rubble and began mentally raking around in what the younger generation disrespectfully called ‘Hammerspace’.
Maestro was the only Overlord who could call it that with a serious expression. The weapon that fell into his’s hands wasn't one he had encountered in life, it was one he had spotted in death, fallen in love with and traded in several favors to learn how to wield with the skill of a master.
It certainly had the element of surprise, at least Maestro thought it surprised Bathory’s servants when the heavier end of the spinning meteor hammer went through her face and skull embedding bone fragments and brain matter in a shop display.
Was it an accurate reproduction of the original weapon? No, It’s weighted ends were faaaaar outside the realm of human strength.
Was it unexpected and downright cathartic to hit people with?
Absolutely.
Alastor emerged at his side, gaze unsettlingly focused on the cooling corpse.
Maestro’s battle rage abated as he looked around, “Where-” then Maestro actually looked at Alastor, soot stained, blood drenched and… Chewing on something very crunchy…
“Did you eat-?”
Stupid thing to say as Alastor’s form abruptly warped, the lightly charred corpse vanished and Alastor's reappeared with a beatific smile his chewing sounds growing louder.
Fucking cannibals.
“I do believe our deer vladdy escaped into the sewers” Alastor spoke though his staff as he continued snacking on Countess Báthory and her servants remains.
Maestro sighed deeply pained by the pun and looked around anywhere but Alastor’s growing grin.
“Are we going after them.. or” Maestro hated how winded he sounded, he did not want to go into Pentagram City’s sewers and even Alastor had to be slightly pained at the concept.
Unprompted the ground beneath them erupted, his ears rang.
Alastor looked a little wide eyed himself as a rapidly decaying acid soaked bullet studded pillar shot into the sky and wedged itself through the second floor of a skyscraper.
Maestro had scarcely registered the gunshots and feminine swearing next as Vlad the Impaler shot out of the sewers with speed and got impaled through the skull in turn by Alastor with the base of his staff.
Again Maestro found himself upstaged by the Radio Demon’s innate murder cervid reflexes.
Those reflexes could save him from whatever urge to temp fate was leading him to approach the newly created hole to the sewers, Maestro was staying far back from that thing.
Alastor leaned over the hole and looked around, his eyes widening with shock at what or who he had found in the absolute Double-Hell that was Hell’s sewers.
“Mimzy?!”
Who?
------
Chapter 27: Trouble Knocks, Loudly.
Mimzy looked terrible and not just because she had apparently been in the sewers of Hell. Her dress was tinged purple and torn in places. The skin visible though the tears was the bright pink of freshly regenerated flesh, Alastor felt a flicker of concern.
“Mimzy, whatever happened to you?”
“Alastor.” Mimzy greeted curtly, Alastor took her outstretched hand and lifted her onto the road.
“Those bitches took the north west back! Together even!”
Oh.. oh deer. Mimzy could only be talking about two people and if he laughed Mimzy would never forgive him.
“My club was there!”
“Was?” Asked Maestro as the absurdity of this tiny woman causing so much damage to the area in proportion to her diminutive size made him desperately hold back a laugh.
“That is rather unfortunate” Alastor spoke breezily, that was actually hilarious.
“Oh fuck you Alastor I can’t go back there they know it was me that narc’ed on them to you the first time!
“Yes, It was quite the struggle to force them both into the airwaves the first time”, Alastor admitted unashamedly, they had been conniving opponents.
Mimzy growled, “They’re fucking together again, fucking trauma bonded with each other like that pet moth that splatters himself on Little Tinny Vinnie’s windscreen.”
“You absolute midget bitch!”
Alastor sighed deeply aggrieved as Vox’s tinny voice screeched out of the newly appeared drone's speaker and he and Mimzy traded insults as greetings.
“Vinnie! Hell’s fugliest manbaby with a fuckton of disorders, what ya doing all mobile like? How’s life as a porn stars portable purse pet treating ya?”
The drone was sparking, “Fuck. You.”
The drone turned to face Alastor with a whir of motors “Also the princess want’s you back to the hotel, wouldn't stop whining unless I asked”, Alastor nodded “Noted and ignored”
Vox sniggered despite himself at the Radio Demon's casual dismissal of someone not himself.
Maestro spoke up, “Do we... care about the North West District?”, He had his hands full spying on the Nazi's in the center of the Pentagram and wondered if he would have to split his attention.
The Unofficial Organised Crime District also briefly known as Alastor’s former territory, the territory of the very first Overlords he’d deposed, He had then had to take out her successor when she’d taken over the territory and helped the first Overlord slip her leash.
That had been one wild decade.
Empress Wu Zetian and Ranavalona or depending how she was feeling Queen Rabodonandrianampoinimerina were not opponents Alastor wanted to fight again with them being both forewarned, forearmed and apparently back together after all the effort that Alastor had gone through to isolate them from each other.
Ancient Sovereign Overlord Wu Zetian was a complicated Overlord, Alastor had not initially intended on putting her in the airwaves.
He had intended to keep her at hand much like Husk, then she’d met Ranavalona and the two had started scheming.
With her help Wu Zeitian had exploited a loophole and embarrassingly enough, escaped Alastor’s leash.
The first and only Sinner to do so.
A very bored Mimzy, in a mid-afterlife crisis, had grabbed Vincent and the two had infiltrated the duo’s followers and slipped Alastor enough information to take them both down.
With Alastor’s permission Vincent had looted enough of the former queens wealth that he’d been able to begin setting up Voxtek, Mimzy however had blown through her share faster than you could say ‘party like it 1920’
He’d put both former queens in the airwaves and considered the matter done.
Later Mimzy had thought him touched in the head for not doing the same to Husk, though she had slowly come around.
Alastor didn't like to remember the time he’d introduced Mimzy and Vincent, mainly because most of his memories were so distorted by alcohol and wild partying that it gave him a migraine to try make sense of them.
Rosie had not approved, she had laughed, but she had definitely not approved.
“I think we’ll leave Wu Zetian and Ranavalona alone for now”, Alastor conceded reluctantly, They’d likely taken the Mafiosi and Yakuza as subordinates by force by now.
Pity, he’d always wanted a Mafiosi or Yakuza at the Overlord table but the family orientated organisations had always been a bit.. weird about soul ownership.
Maestro was edging closer to the hole in the road out of morbid curiosity. “How did you end up down there?”
Mimzy shuddered, “Not like I had a choice darling, Entertainment districts full of gas”
Maestro’s ears went back, “Gas?”
“The type where it's easier to just put yes when trying to putting a name to it, honey.” Mimzy answered Maestro directly.
“Garrotting, air born love potion, that yellow stuff that got banned by the Overlord Council in the sixties. All the nastiest stuff. The purple sewer gas is fucking awful but it’s predictable and won’t make me cough up my spine”, Mimzy was swaying, Alastor steadied her with a hand leading her to sit down on a knocked over post box.
Oddly enough he looked somewhat concerned.
“Did you regenerate?”, the thick low hanging purple gas that had appeared in the sewers in the 1930’s which made the sewers a good place to hide in the Exterminations if you were okay with dying and respawning every ten minutes with even mild skin contact.
“A few times, got up and kept walking, Probably gonna have to force a full respawn to get that crap out of my body properly” Mimzy admitted, waving her hands about negligently missing Maestro choke.
It took a long time for sinners to start treating their own temporary deaths as an inconvenience or as a viable escape strategy, Charlie would be horrified.
So, she wasn't finding out, because she would force both him and Mimzy into a therapy circle.
And Alastor would not survive a therapy circle with Mimzy.
*Ringgggggg*
Vox swore and went silent, a voice emanating from the drone that was distinctly not Vox
“Alastor!”
Oh that was positively delightful, “Charlie are you using the television Overlord as a telephone?”
Mimzy hunched over with a wheezing cackle, even Maestro wore a grin.
“That’s not the point, where are you?
Maestro stepped forward, “Though it pains me to admit it Princess, I would be dead without his intervention”
“You saved Maestro?” Charlie sounded so happy with Alastor. Ew, he should eat someone in front of her before she tried to redeem him or worse hug him.
“And Mimzy! Don’t ya forget about me!” Husk’s muted swearing in the background had Mimzy grinning wildly.
Maestro straightened, “Princess I will be returning to scout duty”
Charlie sounded concerned, “Are you okay?”
Naturally Maestro took it as a jab at his pride and responded stiffly, “I will take better precautions this time”
Alastor added another item to his mental list of things Charlie needed to learn.
“Alastor please come back to the hotel!”
Alastor twitched and pretended to be enraptured by a floating dust mote, he did what he wanted.
Charlie however, knew when she was being ignored, “Alastor, I wouldn't say this if it wasn't REALLY, REALLY, REALLY Important”
“Charlotte did something happen?”
“…There was an incident in Heaven, we haven't been able to get in contact with them, it’s.. really bad.”, Charlie was being cagey which was very unusual.
“Charlotte, If there was a incident in Heaven and we cannot contact them how do you know something happened?”, If Charlie had learned to lie it was a good first attempt.
“...Alastor if you come back and you think what I tell you is not serious then you can have a favor from me exactly like before.”
Vagatha started yelling in the background and Alastor felt a chill ruffle his fur.
Mimzy yelped as Alastor's shadows enveloped them both, sending them back to the hotel at speed.
Vox the Drone and Maestro were left alone.
“So… Want to help me eaves drop on Nazi High Command?”
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Hazbin Hotel Scream Rain AU
Contributors in the comment section: @kiochii92, @correaceleste123, @ssree, @kitsunesongs, @renkamisato, @periguita, @mermaid-of-the-valley @ladyvsama
Summary:
What if the Scream Rain was a relatively recent phenomenon in Hell and is actually environmental contamination from the people Alastor traps in the airwaves?! The Seraphim, Lucifer and Charlie demand the release of the trapped souls when the screaming begins to infest Heaven’s Airwaves.
Except the people in the airwaves are in the airwaves for good reason…
Modern Overlords: They can't be that bad right?
Zestial: You are idiots.
Chapters 1-25
So I just found the Word-Limit when I tried to extend this post to the next chapter, What a achievement! I will post the link to the Next Chapter Post at the top and the bottom of this post.
Chapters 1-25 - You Are Here!
Chapter 26-? - Next Post with More Chapters
------
Chapter 1: Scream Reign
Alastor wondered if he was hallucinating, “This is an utterly terrible idea” he tried to reiterate to the fluttering seraphim.
Charlie cut in, cajoling with a smile that wouldn't dissolve sugar. “Everyone already knows how powerful you are. If anything, you’d probably get more powerful without keeping those people constantly in the airwaves!”
Alastor wondered if he should burst Charlie's bubble and tell her that wasn't how his powers worked.
Then Lucifer spoke up in the same tone, the same fucking tone, he’d used to call Vox garbage, “Come on bellhop! It’s just a couple of Sinners, You’re all the same anyway”
Alastor saw red, he decided then and there that Charlie, Lucifer and the Seraphim could, as Angel Dust was prone to crassly saying, Fuck around and Find out, “If I release the souls from the Airwaves want one favour from each of you, I’ll even add in Charlie’s caveat of harming no one.”
“Greedy sinner!”
“Useless Deadbeat”, Lucifer flinched back hard, good.
“In addition-”
“More?”, Lucifer shrieked like a seagull.
“-In addition, I want it to be known that this was entirely YOUR joint idea, All credit for whatever comes of.. this, Falls. On. You.”
“So you’ll do it?” Charlie ought to know by now the puppy dog eyes did not work on him.
At his nod Emily and Charlie hugged each other and spun happily in circles, though whether they maintained the level of enthusiasm in the coming days...
Sera nodded amicably, “I see no harm in a small favour that harms no one”
Sera and Lucifer clearly had much better control of their magic than Charlie for the flash of light from the handshake to go off like a small party cracker, Charlie and Emily’s were loud and flashy as expected.
Alastor mused if he were a lesser person he’d vow to never wash that hand again, possibly dance and sing about swindling two seraphim, the devil himself and his daughter.
As it was, Alastor was already going to break out the good rye or maybe some moonshine and have himself a party the second he was in private.
“I’ll release all souls trapped per our agreement upon returning to my radio station at the hotel today, that should be easiest”
“Well, I see our business here is concluded, I’ll have St. Peter report on the weather status in a few days”
Sera's smile was wide, Alastor's was wider.
This was going to be entertaining!
------
Chapter 2: Announcement
Alastor was feeling something he didn't often feel, a small smidgeon of regret as he stared out of the window of his radio station at the growing number of trembling figures in the now silent rain, frantically scrambling away from where he had graciously allowed the portal to rematerialise.
The lights of the radio station’s On Air sign blazed red, illuminating his figure in the window. Appropriately dramatic and easily spotted given the renewed hoarse screaming and increased running or crawling speed of the crowd below.
“Citizens of the Pentagram, It brings me no pleasure to announce that earlier today at the embassy, at the command of His Majesty King, Lucifer and the High Seraphim of Heaven, Sera, the Airwaves will no longer be allowed to broadcast my defeated foes delightful screams.
Apparently my broadcasts now reach heaven and have been deemed unsettling, who knew the Pearly Gates on high could block broadcasts?
Not that I ever tried to broadcast into heaven all my favourite listeners are down here after all!
Understand Pentagram, I have no desire to subject my dear mother to that. Thus all the souls imprisoned within the airwaves by myself have been released to wander the streets once again at Heaven and the Morningstars behest”
As he settled in for his regular broadcast Alastor gave it less than a week before the true chaos started and Hell started to boil over like an unwatched pot.
Alastor threw subtlety out the window and strengthened the hotels wards as high as he could ignoring Lucifer's confusion echoing in the magic. Where was this anxiety coming from?
It was probably from the concept of that wall being blown up again, Stupid Fallen Angel making that one wall that always blew up load bearing..
------
Chapter 3: Behind Closed Doors
“Carmilla I must urge caution the situation is rapidly becoming dangerous beyond our control, We must leave, now!”
“Zestial surely you’re overreacting, while they are Overlords they have no territory to speak of-”
The building shook, Zestial gripped the table edge tightly, claws digging into the surface, “I was the weakest Sovereign Overlord of that time, and given the power they currently have at their disposal I expect Alastor did not claim their contracts, merely imprisoned them and their followers as is.”
Noise blasted through the warehouse to the meeting room from a stout mule horse sinner with a machine gun and a veritable army of likewise formed and clad gun wielding zealots.
“COME OUT AND FACE YOUR BETTERS WOMAN! I PROMISE I’LL SHOW YOU AND YOUR DAUGHTERS A REAL GOOD TIME!!”
Carmilla Carmine recognised that fucking voice even if she didn't recognise the face, Alastor’s past broadcasts being both highly memorable and surprisingly educational, “Good grief! Is that-”
Zestial’s voice was low, “José Victoriano Huerta Márquez, Formerly the self proclaimed Sovereign Overlord of Urban Construction-” Both Camilla and Zestial ducked out of sight as his gaze swept up towards their window.
“-and Weapons Manufacture”
Again Zestial urged her to abandon her pride, “Carmilla listen, you are strong don't doubt that but if you were around back then, with your current level of power you would not qualify to be considered even a minor overlord.”, more gunfire and Carmilla winced as she felt some of her contacts unravelling, the intruders had clearly stumbled across a stash of Angelic Steel and had started using it.
“This may be harsh and hard to hear but you are outmatched!” Zestial lowered his voice to a whisper “We are both outmatched. Gather your daughters and head to the hotel, You will be safe there”
The Radio Demon had erected the strongest of wards around the hotel the same day he had broadcast Heaven's decision and while the returned Sovereign Overlords were strong, they were not archangels strong enough to break it.
Scrambling down the fire escape Carmilla forced herself to keep running, no matter what happened.
“Zestial! Old Comrade! It’s been decades what brings you here!”
No matter what she heard.
She had to get to her daughters, the weight of the rings in her pockets burned.
Roaring, gunfire and explosions rocked the building behind her as Carmine Industries blazed with green light as another Overlord fell that night.
------
Chapter 4: Lost Vista
The madman who had marched up to and into Vee tower was laughing, the psycho who had dismantled Veetek security effortlessly. Even now he was monologuing in a booming voice that carried down the halls.
"Long was I trapped in the ethereal sea by that ever hungering deer, mere flotsam in a typhoon of screams, however my fear of losing sight of the shore has left me long before my death. Shore is within sight and what a glorious shiny new vista I see before me to conquer, truly heaven has come to hell!"
The fight for Vee Tower was depressingly short Christopher Columbus wore armour that tanked anything the two Vee’s could throw at it, a single hit of his armored fist scattering Velvette into doll parts.
Valentino's smoke only seemed to make things worse, dozens of Sovereign Overlord Columbus's men shaking it off like mad and horny was their default. They tore off Valentino's wings and gagged him with the remains of them.
Vox, stayed silent from his room several floors down watching the security feeds, as a ipad there was nothing he could do as Velvette and Valentino were led away in soul chains.
Well, maybe... not entirely nothing. If Velvette and Valentino felt him tugging on their connection they said nothing to their new owner. A single contract, as much as Valentino could spare on short notice without being noticed to help Vox escape, swapped owners and Vox pulled on it hard.
Angel Dust yelped as he materialised in a dark room met by his personal nightmare, staring at the glowing monitor face of his tormentor.
“Put me in the carry case and take me to the Hazbin Hotel”, Vox the ipad, ordered imperiously.
He did not expect Angel Dust to snort and turn to examine the room, “...and why should I help you?”
Vox wanted to scream, “I own you, you really want to go back up to that!?”
The screen lit up behind them, the sight of the Overlord’s henchmen partaking of both the models and the prostitutes.
Unexpectedly Angel Dust laughed, it was not a nice laugh and Vox got a sinking feeling at the spiders wild gaze, “You know what Vox? I’ve had worse, far worse at your hands and Valentino's hands than a couple of grabby amateurs that get horny over some exposed skin. Maybe I should open the door and turn us in?”
Vox nearly crashed, fans whirring in panic, “No! Wait Wait Wait! Bad idea! What do you want?!!”
“I want my soul back.”
“What?!”
“Or I could just leave you here, without hands you can’t exactly punish me, just summon me.” Angel sat on Vox’s favourite chair smiling at him all fangs, far too reminiscent of that fucking deer, “How long until you run out of power? Would anyone recognise you as anything other than a busted monitor?”
Vox winced and Angel taunted him, “Imagine, turned off and unaware in a landfill slowly buried in the trash pile as people throw more and more stuff away”
“enough”, Vox whispered hoarsely all too easily able to picture such a thing happening.
Angel Dust continued head tilted infuriatingly like a certain deer, “Maybe an imp will salvage you, or take you apart for spare parts?”
“I said enough! Take me to Hazbin Hotel, guarantee my safety, both getting there and staying there safely and you can have your soul back!” Vox was panicking.
Angel Dust hopped up from the chair suddenly all smiles, “Well! Why didn't you say that before!? Deal?”
A moment of silence, Valentino was going to dump him because of this, but if he could forgive him for nearly leveling the city he could forgive him for this… maybe, hopefully. “You’ve spent far too much time around that smiling bastard”
Angel Dust laughed as the light of the deal blazed.
------
Chapter 5: Buyers Remorse
Alastor sighed, idly swirling a shotglass of rye and inwardly debated drinking straight from the bottle.
Husk was as miserable as ever ever since Angel Dust had voluntarily left for Valentino.
He'd be even more miserable to know what Alastor had been strong armed into doing by Charlie, Lucifer and the High Seraphim.
"So what's the big idea with locking everyone in the hotel?" Cherri Bomb dourly asked, the rain outside was quiet for once.
Alastor’s improved barrier had bounced more than one resident off it before he had tweaked it.
"As this hotel's hotelier it is my duty to see to the protection of the residents, thanks to the actions of the High Seraphim Hell has once again become worthy of its name."
Alastor took another swig, it burned delightfully on the way down and numbed that niggling feeling that had been attacking him ever since he released the Overlords in the airwaves.
"We took on Exorcists and the Vee’s! What's got you so worried?" spoke Cherri Bomb, such a spry young arson enjoying innocent little grasshopper skating across a pond of hungry hell sharks. Alastor reached for the rye bottle, hard liquor loosening his tongue enough to elaborate.
"Well-"
The doors crashed open.
"The Overlords and all their territories are under attack!"
Alastor ignored Vaggi's exclamation as she ushered the cloaked figures of a bloody and shaken Carmilla and her two daughters inside, considering the matter summarised neatly by the wounded Overlord’s daughter and again reached directly for the bottle of Rye on the top shelf.
------
Chapter 6: The Ides of Murder
Sovereign Overlord Prick winced as his sides bled sluggishly from where his own needles had been extracted, Sovereign Overlord Hatchet swore colourfully as he stabbed yet another of their adversaries with his throwing knives. Doomsday district had gone feral today, ancient overlords rising out of the shadows like fucking nightmares.
The mad cackling of the overlord with the gold crown and her purple monitor lizard husband made both Prick and Hatchet shiver in disgust, let alone their unknown third who had assigned himself their torturer.
"After this shits over I’m petitioning Carmilla to ban fucking overlord triads, once was fucking enough!" Hatchet growled aloud making Prick give a pained chuckle.
“Do you really think those psychos are who they said the were?" Hatchet paused as if he hadn't truly considered it, Cleopatra, Julius Cesaer and the guy who fucking stabbed him to death so badly that thousands of years later people were STILL making ides of March memes on sinstagram in Hell, an overlord thropple?
"We need fucking answers, Carmilla's territory is that way, Zestial will know who these fucks are"
"Then we kill them?"
"Absofuckinglutely!"
Easier said than done, Prick ached from the exertion as the two of them came to a stop behind an overturned car.
“Fuck!”
Hatchet summarised their feelings up perfectly, Carmilla Industries had certainly undergone a change.
Scaffolding over one side of the incredibly battered building and welding lights aglow, horse like sinners loudly yelling and laughing as they waved angelic steel armaments around like toys.
“Hatchet! Do you see that?!”
“See wot?”
“That over there!”
Hatchet spotted it what Prick was pointing at and appropriately lost all colour “Ah.. Shit”
Zestial beaten and trussed up much like The Radio Demon had been by Vox... but downgraded to a chair without wheels, that had to hurt the ego.
But the radio demon had clearly had a plan in the works the entire time…
Hatchet decided to act on his hunch, “Prick you stay here, I’m going to sneak closer”
“Are you mad?!”
“We need to find out what’s going on!”
The horse sinners were pathetic drunks and easy to sneak around, getting as close as he dared Hatchet whispered “Psst! Zestial! what the fucks going on?!”
Zestial stirred and Hatchet realised that the overlord was in a poor state, bound tight with angelic steel and covered in sluggishly bleeding slashes
“Overlord Hatchet? What an auspicious meeting”
“Cut the crap old man, what the fuck’s happening?”
Zestial bore an unreadable look, “Did you not hear the Radio Demons broadcast?”
“My hearings been blown out for the past week.” Hatchet admitted “Some amateurs trying to replace that mad bomber ever since she went to that hotel”
Zestial sighed “Understandable, The ancient Overlords have been released from imprisonment, Carmilla has escaped but the entirety of the Pentagram is under assault”
“Huh, so that really was Caesar, Cleopatra and Stabby Ides MarchGee… Why the fuck would he release them?”
Zestial looked exasperated, “Allegedly, Heaven told him too”
“Well shit, Heaven again?”
There was a moment of silence, “You want help escaping old man? Only cost you a favour? That carmine weapon commission of mine Carmilla keeps putting off being moved to the front of production after this mess sounds good, or an angelic steel whip if she can manage it?”
Zestial sighed as though in pain, this brat, “Deal”
“Originally I had intended to as the youngsters say nowadays, pull a radio demon”, Zestial grumbled as Hatchet carefully picked at the chains.
In a successful PR Campaign Velvette and Valentino had gone fully transparent on the entirety of the Radio Demons captivity, broadcasting how pathetic Vox was using surveillance footage from inside Vee tower. People had made everything from montages of manipulation to AMV’s of the radio demons artful rage baiting of the former CEO of Voxtek into a homicidal breakdown backed to jazzy music.
Hatchet snickered, “Rage bait them to their own destruction in style?”
Zestial looked ruefully at his injuries, “I had forgotten the full measure of the overlords I was facing, I will not forget again.”
“So we leg it on three?” Hatchet eyed the mob of partying sinners.
“We can take my shadows” Zestial offered, rubbing his wrists to restore bloodflow, green light sparking from his fingertips.
Hatchet rubbed his own finger on his coat to get rid of the blood, “Prick’s over that way so you can drop me off there, we need to assemble the gang first and then contact Zeezi’s crew, you got a destination?”
“We will meet at the Hazbin Hotel”
Predictably the horse sinners erupted in furious shouting and indiscriminate gunfire when they noticed Zestial gone without a trace.
------
Chapter 7: If you can’t do the time…
"Why is this happening!" Charlie quietly screamed gripping her head in frustration, Cherri awkwardly detanged her fingers from her hair before she tore some of it out and offered her a bag to hyperventilate into.
Alastor sighed, no entirely unsympathetic but deprived of rye and forced to remain annoyingly sober.
He spoke slowly in short sentences as if to a particularly oblivious young child.
"You, your father and the Seraphim made me empty the Airwaves. The Overlords and their underlings trapped in those Airwaves are now free. This is the result. Action and consequences"
A loud whistling and thudding boom rattled the hotel and saw Husk bristling feather tail poofing up like a feather duster at a noise he found ominously familiar.
"What the fuck is happening in the Entertainment District?" Cherri Bomb looked like she wanted to join in.
Alastor listened for a moment filtering and magnifying the noise to his hearing.
"...I believe that's the Spanish inquisition and various Conquistadors led by the returned Sovereign Overlord Columbus having a spirited debate with Sovereign Overlord Himmler and his Nazi legions."
A very loud explosion rang in the distance visible dust rising in the distance through the hotels windows as the Pentagram’s skyline slowly lost a skyscraper as it toppled over, Alastor's ears drooped incrementally, "...and I think the Nazi's are winning"
"Oh fuck that!" Husk hissed wild eyed jumping over the desk angelic steel playing cards drawn, "Angels still over there with those fucks!"
"The ancient overlords are all free?" Carmilla's voice was rough "Can't you put them back?"
What a question
Alastor cracked his neck, "Best you ask the High Seraphim that question Overlord Carmilla, it was her idea, despite my protest my hands are tied. Something about heavenly noise pollution"
Husk rivaled Niffty in his movements, rapidly tucking a dozen bottles and cleaning cloths into his magic hat and grabbing a first aid kit from beneath the bar.
“I’m getting Angel out of there! Those Nazi fucks are dead if they fucking breathe in his direction”, Husk hissed and left swiftly left the hotel followed by Cherri Bomb.
Not that Alastor had any objections to Husk going on a rampage in the name of love, any excuse to fight nazi’s was a good excuse.
In the sudden silence Alastor summoned a large box of cleaning supplies and set them down next to the roach theatre, “Niffty please ready more rooms, as many as you can. I expect Carmilla and her daughters will not be the only ones to seek refuge here in the coming days”
Alastor finally had a name for his nagging anxiety that had eaten at him the moment he had agreed to the seraphim deal, something he thought he, a demon of Hell could no longer feel.
An emotion he had no right to feel, Guilt.
---
Chapter 8: Howitzer
“Another fucking detour!” Vox raged until Angel Dust hit the mute button spitefully and stuffed him under an arm.
The streets near Vee Tower were surprisingly immaculate despite the takeover, showcasing the utter lack of resistance.
Angel Dust wondered at that lack of resistance “Vox, where’s your building security fucking gone?”
Muted, Vox looked remarkably shifty giving Angel Dust a sinking feeling. “You HAD security right? Proper security, not just glorified bouncers?”
Vox undid his muting himself and replied waspishly, “Most fights are between Overlords okay! We were three Overlords and Shok.wav! We could take any fucker who fucking tried! The tower never had any value, it’s just a place, if it broke we could just throw some money at it and rebuild.”
Angel processed that concept or attempted to and... “Fucking hell Vox why didn't you just hire some ex-military fucks or something?”
Vox hissed something that had Angel Dust nearly trip, “Arackniss fucking blacklisted me!”
“what”
The ipad sighed now sounding exhausted, “...Why do you think I didn't like you?”
Angel Dust could guess, “Because Valentino was fucking me?”
Vox laughed bitterly, “Because owning you meant the mob would bar us from hiring them! They’d put out a hit on anyone who fucking tried!”
“Why would he do that...”, and what was that whistling noise..?
“Fuck if I know-”
Angel Dust and Vox shrieked as the ground shook sending them both crashing down face first into the tarmac, the deafening noise of impact was loud beyond description and a cloud of dust rolled over them, blinding them to the cause.
Angel Dust stood when it was clear the movement of the ground had stopped, reaching out towards Vox’s faintly glowing screen which was now covered in road muck and rubble dust.
His own eyes were starting to sting from whatever was in the dust and it was getting hard to breathe.
Unable to see much beyond Vox’s screen light Angel Dust picked a direction and started to walk.
And yet, what seemed like moments later, Angel Dust awoke with a cacophony of coughing as though he’s held his breath too long, “Yeah, get it out” Vox’s voice was as unwelcome as always, coming from his side propped up against a bin. “About time you respawned”
That startled Angel Dust, “I died? I don't remember... How long?”, looking around wildly Angel Dust tried to figure out where he was, no longer in the Entertainment District at least, probably.
Vox was mad, “About 5 minutes, Looks like that skyscraper that came crashing down was Valentino and Velvette’s chemical experimentation lab, I told them to move that thing to the outskirts!”
Angel Dust could care less about Vox’s whining or what OSHA codes the Vee’s violated, “So I fucking overdosed on second hand drugsmoke?!” Vox snorted unsympathetic, “Look at it this way, you can navigate to the hotel properly without being blitzed out of your mind now”
Angel Dust hit Vox’s mute button extra hard.
------
Chapter 9: Maestro and Magician
Overlord Maestro lay still in the wreckage of his own theatre playing dead and thanking his lucky stars that he wasn't actually dead in the collapse. His immunity to fire had saved him allowing him to become intangible flame much like the Radio Demon could become shadows.
Still he stayed and listened, quietly gathering information about his attackers.
The attackers had come in silent and fast, the first warning had been when he heard noises at the exit door as his theatre goers strangely backed up to the stage in a line for the exit after a performance started to grumble, then smoke had started to flood the theatre.
Everything and everyone inside had burned to ask. They’d regenerate in time, weeks later given they’d been incinerated into drifting ash.
Burning was an awful way to go.
So Maestro sat and Maestro listened silent. He heard voices, the unexpected but unforgettable voice of his killers from life made Maestro's blood run cold.
"The subhuman is dead sir" "We are sure the animal didn't escape again?" The disinterested voice of Heinrich Himmler conversing with Reinhard Heydrich, inspired such rage Maestro could barely contain himself.
If they had returned it immediately became obvious why they had targeted his theatre.
The theatre performance of The Diary of Anne Frank was a good a venue as any other for a nazi to attack.
Idiots, fanatically delusional in life and delusionally fanatic in death. How they clung to any sense of bigotry against race and religion in an afterlife that rendered the entire concept moot truly boggled the mind.
Maestro had died in a box for not matching their ideal of good breeding, he'd ripped out the throat of two Nazi's when he realised what that windowless stone box was.
The two had witnessed Maestro's rage and had him beaten with dispassionate eyes, threw him in the incinerator anyway and burned him alive.
As the voices faded away Maestro decided he was not going to let them live, the Radio Demon had his fun, it was Maestro's turn to orchestrate a symphony of screams!
“I don’t mean to interrupt your... whatever, but would you like some help?”
Maestro carefully didn't jump as he turned to the voice “Gambling Overlord Husk?”
Of course he’d spotted him amongst the flames, the gambler may physically resemble a cat in the majority but those eyes were all eagle.
“You offer help?”
Husk shrugged, “Head to the hotel, Carmilla’s there, we can get those Nazi fucks later with angelic steel.”
Maestro nodded, that was acceptable he paused and turned to the cyclop’s next to Husk.
“Ah miss bomb I trust that explosion was not you?”
Cherri Bomb looked rueful at the concept of an explosion that big not being her work.
Youngsters, “Nope, Some kind of cannon. I deal in bombs not missiles”
“Howitzer” Husk spoke up, “I recognised the sound, whatever they hit in that building, exploded and left a nasty low hanging residue of.. something in the sky or else I’d be flying right now” Now that Maestro looked he spotted small holes in the Former Overlords flight feathers as though the tips had been dissolved by acid rain.
“You were offering help?”, Maestro asked curiously.
“Hell’s going to hell in a handbasket, Alastor’s hands may be tied by the High Seraphim for now but he’s opened the hotels doors for those looking for sanctuary before the princess even suggested it”
The implications were interesting, Maestro guessed, “Weak sinners won’t make it to the hotel, their souls will be snapped up fast by torture if the rest of the ancient overlords are anything like the ones who burned my territory. The ones who do will be cunning, strong or armed with angelic steel. The perfect base for a resistance.”
Husk nodded.
"Very well, good luck finding whatever your looking for” Maestro bade his farewell and left the way they’d came.
Cherri Bomb side eyed Husk, “Any of that true?
Husk remained focused “Let’s get going, We still have to find Angel” What was he supposed to do tell Cherri?
‘Hell nah, they’re a live audience for when Alastor is let off his leash with the Seraphim to deal with the Ancient Overlords and cow the current Overlords into meek compliance for the rest of eternity’
Alastor would neuter him for that insight into his psyche should it be made public.
------
Chapter 10: Countess of Blood
Zeezi winced as the newly fashioned harness bit into her skin but stayed silent lest her new boss whip her again, she tried not to think who the harness was made of.
Countess Elizabeth Báthory as she insisted she be referred to as, instead of Sovereign Overlord Báthory, was bluntly put, a monster.
She had thought the Radio Demon a hypocrite of a gentleman for killing a woman even an overlord woman. She very much understood now with unwelcome clarity that some people just needed to be gone.
Watching as the clubs pool was filled with blood from the throats of people dragged in and abducted off the street by the countesses four favoured servants was horrifying in a way Zeezi couldn't, wouldn't put words to.
The panic as the sprinklers had turned on mid rave only for people to realise the water had been replaced by blood...
The world turning hazy, something in the blood acting like a sedative allowing Zeezi's people to be easily subdued.
Enough time and distraction for the vampire like Countess Báthory to handle Zeezi like a small toddler and decide she liked the saurian as a colourful and silent beast of burden with a saddle to go with the leash.
Light glinted out the corner of Zeezi’s eyes she kept her head down hair hiding her eyes as she gazed up at one of the clubs windows to meet a most surprising sight.
Angel Dust the porn star was peering inside the window of Klub Kaiju, he looked rather horrified actually.
Not surprising given the situation inside Klub Kaiju, it looked like a charnel house. Some sinners had been staked to the floor at the pools edge and used like refillable jugs to fill the pool at intervals, some were picked at random, torn to pieces and served on platters like appetisers.
Báthory the bat like sinner resplendent on a throne surrounded by chittering vulture sinners, all giggling like schoolgirls as they mutilated Zeezi’s people for sport.
Angel Dust pointed at her and made a small gesture with his hand that Zeezi as a club owner would recognise a mile away, a fist with the thumb out then tucking the thumb into fist. A silent question, ‘Do you need help?’.
Zeezi didn’t know what Angel Dust thought he could do against classical vampires, but any bar for a fistfight.
------
Chapter 11: Four of a Kind
The gunshots were loud enough to rattle the windows on houses streets away and recognisable enough that it led Husk and Cherri Bomb straight to it.
Vox’s head was propped up against Klub Kaiju’s front step flickering madly, His expression soured when he saw them, “Oh no, it’s you fucks again..”
Husk growled raising Vox to eye level, “Cut the chatter ipad, Where is Angel?”
Vox’s face shrunk slightly on the screen, “Suicidally fighting a Lolita Vampire Overlord, as if I didn't agree to free him if he got to the fucking hotel”
Vox yelped as he was tossed to the ground and walked over, “Ow! You fuck!”
The scene Husk ran into, skidding really, given the lack of traction on the blood slicked floor against his paws made him uncomfortable in many ways.
Although it was the scene of a massacre, the sight of Angel Dust firing everything at the Overlord, the fury and life in his gaze was breathtaking.
Husk’s eyes narrowed to pinpricks as he was pulled backwards by Cherri Bomb who hurled several Molotov's into the mess a wall of fire backing the Overlord into a corner with her attendants.
Angel Dust spotted them and ran over grining, “Husk! Cherri!”
Contained behind the blaze, Báthory roared loudly enough to shake lightbulbs from the ceiling and that was more teeth bared in Husks direction than he ever wanted to see again in his life. Alastor had nothing on this freak.
“Heaven forced Alastor to release the Overlords from the Airwaves, The hotel’s a safe zone, You’re beautiful”
Angel Dust huffed, “I kinda figured that when Christopher fucking Columbus made Tiffany Titfucker his favourite sex toy minutes after breaking down Vee towers doors.”
Angel clearly missed the last mumbled part of Husk's sentence over the roar of the fire.
“You’re free?”, Husk asked sounding hopeful.
Angel Dust shook his head, “Not until I get Vox to the hotel, Ooof!”, Cherri Bomb dumped a bag holding a certain glaring blue ipad into his arms, “Best you be the one to deliver him there then, don't want him pulling a Radio Demon”
Angel Dust wordlessly hit the mute button before Vox could begin swearing.
Movement out of the corner of his eyes had Husk throwing his cards with extreme prejudice, decapitated one of the creepy ladies in waiting who had made it through the wall of fire mid lunge. The fire separating them from the ancient Overlord was going out.
“Fuck Angel, you really got into a mess this time”
Báthory was as mad as Old Yeller before it got put down that much was clear, the death of one her attendants was liable to do that, just wait till she found out Husk Cards were made of Angelic Steel.
“Hey!”
Attention shifted to the still saddled and muzzled Zeezi. “Can you help me get this thing off of me?”
“How fast are you on foot?” Cherri asked instead, calculatingly.
“Whut?!”
“Look we can’t kill all these freaks, the airs contaminated and we aren't fast enough to escape on foot”, Cherri looked pointedly at Zeezi, Vox started laughing from his place in the bag.
Zeezi, who was still wearing a saddle capable of holding a vampire Overlord and five others at minimum“...You are not telling anyone about this AND AT LEAST GET THE FUCKING MUSSLE OFF ME!!”
------
Chapter 12: Shark Week is Cancelled
The gas was suffocating him, except it wasn't. Tom Trench silently trudged through the basement corridors of 666 Broadcasting. The Vee’s had now truly fallen and contrary to all of his colleagues despair all Tom felt was a sense of relief. It had been years, decades really since Vincent Whittman had killed his way to promotion again and again through his own broadcasting studio then coerced ownership of the company from him.
Vox probably thought it was funny to hunt him down in death and make him a glorified reporter under him.
Robert Tom Trench was tired, decades of cowering in the shadow of that monster would do that. Thankfully Vox had never figured out it was him and not just bad luck who had loosened the bolts of the above-head hanging televisions. Robert who had used one of the gas mask television props to escape the building when the electrocution of Vox and his cultists had set the building on fire.
Vincent had never figured out that Robert Trench had burned the ownership transfer records, or that his final murder suicide the day after had never actually been broadcast to the world.
As far as the authorities were aware it had been a studio fire that had regrettably spun out of control.
Robert’s Entertainment Network had recovered via the buildings insurance and he’d even given a touching eulogy to those lost in the accident.
Vincent Whittman, remembered only as a picture on a wall that was quietly removed by Robert between cleaning's and never returned, the same with all the footage existing that contained Vincent’s face, accidentally irreparably lost.
How tragic.
The things Robert had done to Vox’s gravesite were especially heinous and best left unmentioned in polite company.
Robert Trench was also incredibly thankful that Vox had never figured out that Robert had approached the Radio Demon decades ago and told him of all Vincent Whittman’s above ground exploits, specifically Vox’s habit of emulating his victims in manner and dress before and after he killed them.
And my, my how the Radio Demon and Vincent Whittman had started to look like part of a matching duo as every day passed...
Which was how he became the Radio Demon's inside man in media, it was safer and much better compensated job than his previous stint in the American army as a munitions specialist before going into media.
Still Tom Trench had one last job to perform, unlocking the last door at the very bottom of 666 Broadcasting Networks basement to a forest of glowing green foliage Trench turned one last time looking back up the corridor. Removing his gas mask, jacket revealing a tired looking gecko sinner he threw them into the hallway.
Stepping into the doorway held the detonator up grinning in a way that would make his soul owner proud. He said what he wished he could have said back when he realised Vincent had murdered his co-workers, “Fuck your Shark Week and go fuck yourself Whittman!”
He pressed the button, listened for the sound of distant explosions, stepped backwards into the Bayou and slammed the door shut behind him.
------
Chapter 13: Ra Ra Rasputin
@ladyvsama gave me a list of potential overlords and one of them was not like the others… (Details are kinda sus on this guy, I suspect a smear campaign by his enemies, so you all get the song version)
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
Zeezi kept a remarkable pace tearing through hells streets, “WOULD YOU STOP FUCKING KICKING ME!”, She wasn't a horse however.
“Sorry Zeezi, I ain’t never ridden a dinosaur before… at least not like this” Zeezi chuckled despite herself as Husk groaned at the spider’s lewd tone.
“Hotel Dead Ahead!” Husk shouted.
“Oh good I was starting to run out of bombs!”, came Cherri’s cheery voice from the back of the saddle, lobbing another at their pursuers.
Báthory’s vampire sinners were still chasing them, Zeezi had stomped her way over and through vehicles at an impressive stride but was wise enough to pace herself and thus kept herself several meters from the pursuing vampires.
Husk spotted a problem, “Cherri? You got one of those bombs left?”
“Bombs for days mate!” Hollered Cherri flinging one into the path of one of Báthory’s attendants.
“How do you feel about making an entrance?”
The Hotels doors weren't open and they couldn't exactly stop…
Angel Dust held tight as though bracing for impact.
“Ooh, Permission!”
The wall, THAT wall specifically, exploded like tissue paper and Zeezi dove through losing her balance on the tiles and skidding to an undignified stop.
The vampires sinners screeched as they were battered backwards by the black tentacles embedded in the hotels wards and after a moment of circling wisely retreated.
Inside the hotel Husk, Angel Dust, Cherri Bomb, Zeezi and Vox lay sprawled on the floor by the bar in a pile of tangled limbs, letting the adrenaline of the chase fade.
Voices approached, Charlie in an argument with someone, Husk didn't care, pulling himself up the bar table and taking down bottles of the high proof stuff to share around to everyone else who had outrun a horror movie cliche.
“I can’t believe you let an Overlord in here without warning!”
Angel and Cherri started to giggle eyeing Zeezi who huffed and downed her bottle before getting to work on finally escaping the saddle.
Alastor’s protest’s sounded somewhat sheepish, “He is relatively harmless-”
“Harmless! I have never felt so violated in my entire life” Charlie stated calmly eyeing a sinner resembling a cross between a borzoi and a wet mop sat peaceably by the fire.
“And yet you were never this angry what Angel Dust said those things to me.” Alastor retorted starting to look rather irritated.
Angel Dust pulled himself to his feet, “So we’re kind of in a crisis-”
“You can fucking manage- Angel!”
Angel Dust dropped what he was carrying to the floor as Charlie realised who she was speaking to and tackled him.
The disgruntled burst of static caught everyone's attention as Alastor snapped his fingers, shadow minions appearing and setting to work on repairing the wall.
Alastor strode forward and Angel Dust looked somewhat nervous. “Wait Smiles! I made a deal with Vox, If I get him to the hotel and safe, he has to free me”
Alastor stopped and looked Angel Dust directly in the eyes making the spider feel ten times smaller, “I was under the impression you were owned by Valentino?”
Vox, unwisely started to grumble, “Val transferred him to me to get me out of the Tower when those spigotty fucks-” Vox yelped as Alastor approached him with murder in his eyes. “SMILES DON’T DO IT!” Alastor stopped himself from stamping down on Vox’s face, with effort he deserved a award for.
Angel Dust pleaded his case, “Look Smiles he’s a creepy racist prick but he’s basically powerless, let him in the hotel until it’s all over and I get my soul back. Please”
Alastor abruptly found himself the subject of far too many surprisingly effective puppy dog eyes, ew stop.
Alastor huffed, “...Well, I can appreciate a good escape clause gambit. Very well Vox may stay, providing he behaves and keeps ALL racist vocabulary to himself”
“Not a problem!” Baxter piped up waving a familiar remote.
“DON’T YOU-”
click
Vox glared as he was propped up on the table, “-fucking dare!”
“Not quite muted, whisper volume level should do”, Baxter noted smugly, “Should neatly fulfil the deals clause of keeping him safe if he can’t audibly antagonise anyone into hurting him”
“Angel Dust”
“Smiles?”
“Welcome back”
“Who am I seeing a visage from heaven on high?! Are you from Moscow? Because my heart rushes to you”, The Borzoi had made his way over to Angel Dust, grasped one of his hands and started flirting.
At least Angel Dust thought he was flirting but the Russian accent was so thick he could maybe make out one word in three.
“I see you’ve met our newest resident, Rasputin of Moscow. Former Ancient Sovereign Overlord” Alastor smirked nastily at Angel Dust’s karma come to collect, “I trust you’ll be a good mentor”
Husk darted in front of Angel Dust pushing Rasputin back, “Hey pal, buzz off!”
Husk’s interference did not have the intended effect as the borzoi sinner merely leaned close and crooned in his face, movement and tone conveying what his thick accent could not, “You must be vodka—smooth, strong, and unforgettable. Come with me kitty and I’ll show you how Russians stay warm in wintertime”
Angel Dust muffled his laughter as he watched Husk dive behind the bar hissing, the borzoi waving and getting distracted neatly by spotting Rooster, licking his lips and striding forward with intent.
“Sooo uh Russia's greatest love machine huh? Not matching your previous Overlord slaying MO there Smiles.”
Alastor blushed bright red, “...It wasn't intentional” Alastor muttered “He snuck up on me and did the-” Alastor made a waggly hand gesture indicating some unknown flirtation and shuddered, “-Thing, I just shoved him in the radio waves by accident, I was not best practised at it back then”
smack!
Angel Dust, Charlie and Alastor watched as the Borzoi who had moved on from Rooster and apparently spotted a now vibrantly blushing Zeezi, gamely bowed out after getting slapped “You’re stronger than a shot of vodka.”
Then he spotted Cherri, who abruptly stopped laughing.
Angel sniggered, “You know… Apart from the weird sex thing and his...incredible optimism, that guys basically exactly like you”
“Please don't compare me to that... mess of a man”, Alastor order bordering plea went ignored as Angel continued, “I wish I could pull off the dark and mysterious act to the point everyone around me wants to crack open my skull and nosey around the grey matter with a microscope”
Alastor grinned nastily, “Who needs to wait? I could do that right now!”, Angel Dust backed off with a grin.
Vaggi called down from the second floor irritated at the noise, perhaps? “What the fuck is happening out there! Oh! Hi Angel! Welcome back!”
------
Chapter 14: Food for Thought
Former Overlord Rosie fled to the hotel along the backstreets supported by Susan with the other Cannibals and their hysterical children in tow.
Sovereign Overlord Cain had returned and had not been pleased to discover his father dead, with the Cannibals assistance.
Ordinarily Rosie would have fought him herself with Alastor's assistance but the children were in a panicked frenzy just hearing his name.
Cain had been the first murderer, in hell he became far worse and far, far creepier.
The children, un-aging in stature and maturity but eternal in memory did not, could not forget.
After all, pre-history did not have things like the age of consent and Cain was always trapped in the past.
The princess would answer for this Rosie vowed, Alastor would never do something so stupid like releasing those old monsters without her input.
Despite the Razing of Cannibal Town, Cain wasn't the biggest problem, it was the two Ancient Sovereign Overlords who came after.
Two rivals who hated each other to the marrow and were not afraid of collateral damage, one the falcon headed founder of an ancient empire, the other the very same wolfish destroyer of that empire.
Hell was never going to be big enough for Temüjin and Timur to co-exist peacefully, therefore it and anyone in its path, burned.
“Rosie...” Susan for once looked somewhat worried, never a good sign. “Some of the children are missing”
Rosie’s claws usually hidden gouged the stonework next to her, rage mounting, “Just.. Get to the hotel”
“So we aren't going back to get them” It wasn't a question, she was seeking confirmation. Bitch.
Rosie took a deep breath, “If you think you’re strong enough to survive the literal all-out war happening back there be my guest, But I have to keep my people safe”
“Good to know where we stand”, Susan mocked in a tone that made Rosie want to kill her. Bitch.
The hotels doors were thankfully open, Rosie met Alastor's eyes the moment she entered and strode right up to him heedless of the sudden silence in the room. “Alastor, would you care to explain why I just had to evacuate the burning remains of Cannibal town from two warring Khanates and the First Murderer out to re-collect his harem of children?”
A strangled sound came from the couch, Lucifer choking on some hot beverage out of a novelty mug, “-His harem of what???”
Charlie who had begun to approach the two, similarly had gone completely grey as had most of the room.
Good, let this lesson engrave itself in their memories for all eternity, Rosie let some of her carefully chained fury show, “Cain, Son of the First Man Adam, The first Murderer and the first kiddie fiddler along with all his like minded sinner followers, are no longer imprisoned in the airwaves.
Four of cannibal towns children are missing. If Cain doesn't have them then Timur will, arguably a worse fate”
“I’m so sorry-”
SLAP!
Charlie’s head snapped to the side with the force of Rosie’s slap, she stared wide-eyed as if she could not comprehend that Rosie had hit her.
Rosie clearly already knew who was at fault.
Rosies voice was raw with a kind of tranquil fury that left its listeners paralysed, “Not once since the founding of the hotel have you considered the ramifications of your actions, continuing to act like an all knowing princess.
You Princess Charlotte, have never been human, never been a sinner. All you have are stories and poorly placed pity. You do not understand us and don't even make the effort to try.
You don't understand what drives people to sin, when the only choices are sin or sin worse!”
Rosie's gaze was unforgiving, Charlie and all those watching quailed beneath it.
“And now you’ve unleashed true evil upon hell. People, truly evil people who invented the very sins that would go on to become humanity's a one-way tickets to hell. So, whatever is happening to those children, whether they’re nailed to a wall or a cock, I hope it’s worth it to you, Princess.”, The word princess was spat like a profanity.
Charlie flinched when Rosie reached forward wary of another slap, even Lucifer tensing if more violence would come, instead the hotel watched as Rosie removed her shiny head councillor badge from Charlie's jacket and crushed it under her heel until it was in pieces.
With that Rosie walked over to Alastor who wordlessly handed her a room key where she left for their rooms with the rest of the dry-eyed somber cannibals without breaking stride.
Charlie knelt by the badge fragments, picked them up and left the room to silence.
It took no time at all for Lucifer to drag Alastor into a side room, followed by Husk, Angel Dust and Cherri, “What the fuck was that!”
The King sought to blame Alastor? Too bad. “The deal means I cannot harm anyone mentioned by the deal as it still stands” Alastor pointed out mildly, “Not you, not Heaven, not Charlie, nor the overlords I have been forced to release at your command.” Alastor, rather regretted adding the last part in hindsight.
“You knew this was going to happen..” Lucifer realised.
Alastor's gaze was steady, tone uncompromising, “I did warn you, repeatedly. Had I refused, You, Charlie and Heaven would have forced the issue themselves, and we would all be in a far worse condition with no warnings or protections in place at all!”
Lucifer felt the wards ripple at Alastor's words a reminder of the massively increased number of times the wards had pinged in the past few days as they rejected enemy scrying magic and the occasional long distant curse.
In that moment a light materialised before them causing the sinners to jump back with weapons drawn.
Luckily it wasn't anything dangerous merely a glowing portal with a familiar hyper seraphim leaning through it. “Hi! Sorry to intrude, I think your mobiles out of charge or your networks down because we couldn't text you or Charlie so I came personally!” Emily the sugar fueled hurricane chirped, “I’m here to deliver the weather report on St. Peters behalf!”
Emily’s wings drooped as she took in the various sinners and Lucifer lowering their weapons and leaning against various walls or appliances as if each of them were recovering from a mild heart attack, “Is this a bad time?”
------
Chapter 15: ...don’t do the crime!
Heinrich Himmler and Reinhard Heydrich observed the chained sinners down below in the parade grounds, the leveled former Heaven Embassy clocktower, “Do you remember when we first arrived in this strange land?”
Heydrich nodded, grim, “We were as the Americans were fond of saying, cocky”
Himmler sighed, “Our soldiers had already laid the groundwork for our rule, the entire German war machine ready and waiting for us to swear their souls to our cause on arrival, the so-called master of this realm Lucifer was absent. Even without the Fuhrer we were without rival...”
Heydrich sourly interjected, “Then the Radio Demon came”
“Then the Radio Demon came”, Himmler acknowledged darkly
There was a moment of silence or perhaps shared trauma.
Himmler spoke stiffly rubbing his forehead, “He caused more trouble for the Third Reich in four months than the entirety of the west's allies put together in six years.”
Heydrich hummed in agreement, “We will not make the same mistake this time. The Holy Roman Empire, The German Empire, Hitler's Germany…. We do not give up so easily we will turn this realm into the Homeland of the Fourth Reich, a world fortress and once we have succeeded in taking hell, we will take back the Third Reich then all of Earth. Is this not a wonderful dream?”
Heydrich turned to Himmler, “What about the Radio Demon? He caught us off guard, decapitated our leadership and picked off the survivors”
Himmler huffed, “The last time we did not have allies, this time we do. Caesar has been a most informative ally, he and his… partners have already taken two districts within the inner pentagram in addition to Doomsday District. Though they refuse to move into Uptown for obvious reasons.
The Entertainment District has been taken over by what seems to be Spanish conquistadors, and the three southern districts seem to be waging an all-out war with each other, not to mention the roaming bands of lesser Overlords"
“Suicidally stupid with the Radio Demon still about” Heydrich commented dryly, Himmler agreed, “We hold the center, our snipers have set up killzones at the borders, we will begin pacification of the north western district after all sinners within the central district have been brought to heel and added to the Reich. Respawn zones are being mapped as we speak”
“Excellent work.. ack! It seems we have a spy” Both Heinrich Himmler and Reinhard Heydrich snapped their gaze up at the same time, guns raising in unison and shooting with impressive accuracy.
Far, far above them gazing horror-struck at the now dark scrying orb sat the Council of Heaven.
It was not the only scrying orb in use several floated showing the dire situation below, although many of them had already gone dark.
"Oh this is bad, very, very bad" Emily fluttered anxiously as the functioning scrying orbs showed the Heaven Council the view of Hells sinners, people all over hell running and hiding from the absolute worst of the worst.
"How is this caused by containing the screaming weather phenomena!?" One of the council members asked.
Through a secondary screen Alastor had been reluctantly convinced to appear in the Heaven Hell broadcast without his signature static on, standing in a repurposed staff room looked thoroughly annoyed. Lucifer, Baxter, Husk, Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb were also present though Niffty had been sent to find Charlie.
He spoke evenly with the tone of someone who had run out of patience but was too tired to act on it.
"The phenomena known as Scream Rain happened in Heaven because of the interference caused by your hackneyed broadcast of Sir Pentious's existence to Hell."
"Baxter and I worked very hard on that" Sir Pentious protested, Baxter looking mutinous.
Sera interjected, “Another important issue is, how did they detect the scrying device?”
Alastor snorted “Your scrying devices are poorly designed, out of date and leak magic all over the place, Easily detectable to anyone with the remotest amount of power, it’s hardly surprising, back to the main topic” Baxter and Sir Pentious nodded in agreement even as several of the angels, likely the designers or the scrying orbs, looked like they wanted to cry.
Alastor tilted his head at Sir Pentius in acknowledgement gaze flat, "Congratulations on hammering so hard the square block went into the round hole with that broadcast, you certainly accomplished... Something."
Baxter looked contemplatively up at Alastor, "Are suggesting we damaged Hell’s Airwaves?"
Alastor sighed, "Hell does not have the natural capability to support airwaves, it has me."
There was silence at that revelation.
Sir Pentious looked thoughtful then spoke slowly growing more awed at whatever conclusion he was reaching, "Now that I think about it, Radio only came to Hell after you arrived in Hell, you've been supporting the entirety of hells technological infrastructure by yourself!?" Pentius’s voice had risen quite shrill towards the end of that sentence.
Alastor preened under the gazes of Angels and Demons who were rapidly starting to realise that the Radio Demon might not just be any regular sinner, "Funny isn't it? I've not had a lick of gratitude over the fact either."
"No wonder you're so grumpy all the time, Bambi" Lucifer remarked, Alastor visibly resisted the urge to punt the pint sized monarch like a football.
Sera interrupted, "Back to the Screaming Rain topic please"
Alastor continued to elaborate, "The Airwaves I created upon my entry into Hell functions such that I can directly interface with them and change them with a thought.
You should thank Niffty, without her darling ideas I would be unable to broadcast more than 10 meters around me at best. Essentially I create a foldable net of my power and stretch it beyond my range and create more as my range extended. Think of it as knitting a very long scarf without stopping or perhaps unfolding a very small piece of origami and finding the paper sheet large enough to blanket a entire room."
Pentious and Baxter boggled, "but that much power.. "
Alastor laughed, "Finesse, darling, each strand of net is a thread of magic thinner than sewing thread, negligible on its own but encompassing a vast reach. Perhaps a fishing net would be a better analogy"
Alastor took a sip from his mug, he did not like talking about his weakness.
"It was a tiring endeavour unpractised as I was, so I used the Overlord I defeated as relay points to anchor the Airwaves in place passively. The fact it held them in a virtual limbo as unconscious scrambled data was also bonus as no one in Hell had access to angelic steel at the time. I've improved since then"
Alastor grinned making some of the watching cherub’s squeak, "What your amateur broadcast hour did was set the airwaves I forged out of demonic power on fire with holy energy, connecting them to Heaven. This connected my network to Heaven and began automatically forging new connections in Heaven own, much shoddier and completely undefended broadcasting network. Bear in mind this was a fully automated process and when I am not broadcasting the default noise is screaming.”
Lucifer interjected snidely, “I’d have though you’d be all over a chance to broadcast to Heaven” Alastor took a deep breath, thought better of it and just whacked Lucifer with his staff. “My mother is up there, I am not exposing her to Hell, I already mentioned this on my broadcast or does your diminutive height also affect your range of hearing?”
Whilst Lucifer hissed at him Alastor turned back to the Council and continued speaking unbothered by the devil, “The demon energy based broadcasting network existing in Heaven was akin to storing electrical cables in seawater or acid, the cables corroded, the energy sparked and clashing energies now in full contact with each other then uncontrollably affected the weather."
Alastor wrapped up his exposition with a grin that sent shivers up everyone’s spine.
“The only reason I agreed to stop the broadcast is that had you tried to stop it yourselves it would have ejected all those trapped in the airwaves onto Heaven’s doorstep with their thrall armies and I will remind you again for the third time, My Mother Lives Up There!”
------
Chapter 16: Hazbin Overlords
For what felt like the thousandth time, Rosie took a deep breath as though asking Heaven for patience, “Vox, darling, Alastor is half-creole”
Vox head propped up on a decorative plate stand, still didn't get it, “What he’s got a favourite food?”
Rosie and possibly all the others in the room listening lamented, If only Vox still had a neck to squeeze, “Creole, as in Half-Ethnic Creole”
The buffering in Vox’s screen as he Voggled what Creole even was should not have been as entertaining as it was, then came the long overdue explosion.
“...Alastor’s black?!”, Error messages flooded his screen.
Before Vox completely lost consciousness he heard someone say something, “Oh good grief! No wonder Mr Southern Static Fuckass Bob dumped this racist pixelated tamagochi ass”
Oh fuck you Susan. Then everything went dark.
“Well that’s one way to start a meeting”, Zeezi muttered with a snort sipping a sugary hot chocolate out of the biggest tankard Husk could find.
Camilla entered the room with her daughters as unruffled as one could look in the situation, followed by Vaggi.
And what an odd Overlord meeting it was, given it was open to the public in a manner of speaking.
Angel Dust and Baxter sat beside Vox, Angel with Vox’s mute button on standby, and Baxter manning a radio receiver set up with Alastor’s help. Maestro was attending the meeting virtually from another part of the city narrating what was happening there to the hotel. The canny overlord had holed himself away in a safe area and surprisingly called the hotel via a slapdash ham radio to report on what was actually happening closer to the chaos.
“The Nazi shmucks are messing around with the power grid, the lights are flickering on and off all over the city, they’re up to... something.”
Nazi’s being productive, that sounded like bad news regardless of what they were up too, “Any news on our overlords?” Asked Rosie, who in the absence of blood was sipping something that looked like tea but could double as paint thinner.
“Looks like Zestial, Hatchet and Prick were waylaid trying to get to the hotel. Zestial and Hatchet got away but Pricks probably going to take a good long while to regenerate, looks like he encountered one of the roving Overlords Vlad the Impaler, who apparently lives up to his reputation” Everyone winced.
Just then the staff room door opened and in stepped Alastor and Lucifer.
“Heaven’s voting between sending the Exorcists into Nazi territory and letting me summon the Sins to deal with them”, Lucifer spoke.
Abruptly as if to affirm Lucifer’s places as the most hated being in creation the cutlery on the table as well as anything not nailed down began to rattle, people swore trying to maintain balance as the ground began to shake.
“Are we under attack!?” Angel Dust hollered as he was pulled into Husk's arms and sheltered beneath a table.
Alastor grip was firm on the doorway, looked alarmed ears swivelling madly. “No! But I can’t feel the other Rings in the Airwaves anymore!”
Maestro was swearing over the radio voice distorted by the static of a worsening connection, “Tha-- the fucks we---doing! They took out the fuc---g elevator!”
Lucifer’s mobile began beeping madly with alerts, he read the notifications and swore, “The Sins can’t get into Pride, everything's been shut off!”
The shaking finally stopped and everyone got to their feet, wary of a continuance.
Maestro finally stopped swearing and adjusted the audio to sound less like Alastor, “The fighting in the Entertainment District stopped, And it looks like the Nazi’s and the Industrial District reached an agreement of some kind.” Maestro trailed off suddenly sounding awkward and strained, “Carmilla why does the Industrial District have Angelic Steel anti-air ground emplacement artillery?”
Carmilla sunk into her seat under the accusing gazes of most of the room.
Niffty poked her head out of an overhead vent, “Hello! Has anyone seen Charlie? I’ve been looking everywhere!”
Ah, Alastor had wondered where that encroaching sense of impending doom was coming from.
------
Chapter 17: Truth Will Out
How had she ever though screaming rain was normal? Charlie Morningstar questioned herself as she walked through the, for once, silent backstreets of Hell. In the days since the Ancient Sovereign Overlords had been freed Doomsday District had changed in ways Charlie didn't know to categorise.
It was quiet, a thick mist enveloping the usually arid section of the Pentagram, for one apart from the occasional rumble of rubble being moved, the more bullet battered buildings were in the process of being pulled down by sinners with a strange uniformity about them, primarily lions, crocodilians and some with long quills.
They didn't notice Charlie was there, as she had long mastered the art of looking like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. A vital skill in walking down the Pentagram’s streets and not getting mugged within five minutes.
Luckily being wet, even from mist, was unpleasant no matter the species so most sinners were indoors, most sinners.
Charlie made the mistake of look too closely at the structure like thing the strange sinners had erected in one of the more open plazas, Charlie then calmly made her way to a nearby blown out building out of sight to vomit.
Bloody hands, claws, wings and paws fluttering in the wind. The Ancient Sovereign Overlords had nailed body parts to a dead tree in a parody of leaves.
Charlie felt abruptly homesick in addition to being physically sick, It was terrible here, how much worse would Cannibal Town be?
Susan had freely shared as much information about the missing children into Charlie’s ears as she could, likely in an attempt to upset her.
Susan the bitch likely hadn't intended to be helpful or give Charlie ideas but she had.
Charlie was going to find those kids and bring them to the hotel where they’d be safe.
Alastor had ignored her, her father had ignored her, her girlfriend had ignored her, basically everyone had ignored her.
Did they blame her? Charlie gripped at her hair and took a slow breath, now was no time to panic. Charlie pulled her hood up and walked out of the ruin, she still had to traverse further south.
Her blood chilled as a couple of the strange sinners walked up to her, their quilled bodies and flat faces blank of expression were hard to look at. The taller one spoke confidently directing her gaze to a poster on a nearby wall, “An announcement went out, All sinners are to report to the southern plaza, Hail Caesar” Charlie awkwardly copied their salute “H-hail Caesar” the smaller one looked at her with understanding and a winning smile, “New recruit huh, Don’t worry I was shy like you once, give it a month and you’ll be slaughtering the barbarians with the best of us!” The taller looked down at his companion and snorted “Shame, I always though your stutter was hilarious”
As the two descended into bickering Charlie walked quickly away following the directions.
She was heading in that direction anyway.
She had walked south for over an hour and now she was in the thrum of a crowd listening and jeering along to a speech as she carefully tries to pass through without being noticed. The things they were saying were the sort of thing her Hellborn classmates in school used to say about Sinners and it made her skin crawl especially unpleasantly given it was directed at her this time.
“-The hellspawn have stolen from us! They presume to rule us, When every facet of their civilisation has been copied from us because they are savage god forsaken beasts incapable of creating their own!”
The Lion on stage radiated an aura of power Charlie had only felt around Alastor, except whereas Alastor suppressed his power in polite company this Overlord flared his on full display.
The things he was saying were.. Vile. Was this truly how Sinners viewed the Hellborn?
Charlie jerked as a clawed hand came down on her cloaked shoulder forcibly directing her away from the jeering crowd. Charlie waited until the figure took them to an isolated side street, ready to set them on fire and run when the figure lowered his hood..
“Alastor?”
Alastor looked profoundly irritated and somewhat wary given his ears were on a constant swivel, “You really have walked into a right mess Charlie”
“Why are you here?”, Was he here to stop her? Were the others nearby?
Alastor raised an eyebrow, “Darling I simply have no desire to see you get yourself killed”
“Where are the others?” There was a awkward pause “They didn't come?” Charlie hadn't wanted to be followed but she had thought… She didn't know what she had thought.
“They were… quite occupied with their own matters” Alastor spoke dismissively, panicking like headless chickens and paralysed into inaction more like.
“Why aren't you killing them?” Charlie nodded her head towards the place they had left.
Alastor chuckled at the phrasing, “Unusually bloodthirsty of you but to answer your question, I can’t because of the ‘harm no one’ part of the deal, remember?”
Charlie went pale, then they both jumped at a large roar behind them.
“LOOK UPON THE FACE OF THE BARBAROUS THIEVING VERMIN!”, Alastor and Charlie spun around looking around the corner at the Lion Overlords roaring yell, but luckily it wasn't directed at them.
Charlie felt Alastor tighten his grip on her shoulder preventing her from running to stop the evil in front of her.
Imps, Hellhounds and other Hellborn in chains and they all looked terrified.
Charlie struggled as Alastor’s shadow wrapped its way around her limbs and frog marched her away from the scene.
Alastor growled lowly into Charlie's ear, “Don’t be stupid Charlie, neither of us possess the power to fight them at the moment, that mob will overwhelm and kill us in a heartbeat with sheer numbers and unlike myself You Won’t Re-Spawn!”
“But they’ll be killed!”, Charlie hissed back.
Alastor shook his head in the negative, “It’s a slave auction to raise morale, I have seen Overlord Caesar do this before decades ago, at most they’ll be sold and passed around at their next public orgy, You had no trouble consigning Angel Dust to sexual slavery so don’t start quibbling now”
The resistance abruptly went out of Charlie at Alastor's words, stated in such a factual tone that Charlie went numb.
At what Alastor judged a safe distance from the mob he released the restraints causing Charlie to stumble.
“...Do you truly believe that?”
Alastor was surveying the area for threats. “Believe what?” he asked absently.
“That I’d let people get hurt like that?”
Alastor's gaze momentarily turned to her searchingly, “You have before, many times don't you know?”
Distractedly Alastor began to list event’s, keeping an eye out for danger.
“Angel Dust many times, myself thrice, Husker and your father and let’s not forget the entirety of Pride Ring currently”
Charlie looked numb, “...”
Alastor's ears twitched “What was that Charlie?”
Charlie looked up at Alastor “...When were you hurt?”
Alastor's ears went right back in alarm as Charlie's gaze focused on him with laser intensity that made him freeze.
Alastor lamented that he should have kept his mouth shut, he wasn't made for such conversations.
He tried to get away from the fraught topic by being as vague as possible, “You didn't look for me after Adam injured me, You didn't even try to find out what happened to me in Vee captivity and you didn't even look at me after Vox’s little hissy fit.”
Alastor didn't mean for his voice to waver as he spoke but it did and then Charlie was hugging him, face buried in his chest, shoulders trembling as she shed silent tears and Alastor just felt.. so very fucking tired.
Emotions.
How disgusting...
“So what are we doing?” He asked tiredly, making an effort to change the topic.
Charlie mumbled something indistinct.
“After all we’ve come this far, It would be... a great pity.. to turn back”
“Alastor?”, Alastor looked down at her tone wary at the sheer alarm in it, had they been spotted by Caesar’s men?!
It was worse.
Charlie was staring at him and her hands that were covered in red.. as was her face, her face which had been buried in his chest was smeared with blood.
Shit.
------
Chapter 18: Identity
Alastor's wound had reopened and naturally Charlie was fussing, unfortunately being overburdened with guilt and adrenaline she was terrible at it.
Alastor let out an aggrieved sigh as he batted Charlie's hands away ignoring her wince as he conjured a bright silver sewing needle.
“You really are making a mountain out of a molehill, my deer”, he grumbled holding the wound closed and resewing it loosely.
Charlie wrung her hands helplessly, both of them were in an old warehouse right on the edge of doomsday district.
“You got attacked by Adam after defending the hotel and walked around like that for months without telling anyone!”
Charlie Morningstar really made panic an artform.
“I didn't even look for you because Vaggi and Husk said you were fine! Vaggi thought you flaked on us”
Alastor snorted, “Oh woe! The former Exorcist whose job description included putting my head specifically on a stick and the person I OWN think the worst of me, whatever shall I do? I may huddle under a bed with Lucifer's ducks and forevermore season my jambalaya with my sad, sad tears”
Charlie whined, “Alastor! this is serious!”
“As a corpse”, Alastor agreed, “Deerie in all honesty they both hate me, a lot of people hate me and I’ll lose no sleep over it”
Charlie sniffed, “I thought we were all friends”
“...” Alastor was not touching that sentiment with a bargepole, “You believed people you trust, should you have questioned things more? Maybe-”
“I’ll do better” Charlie promised.
Alastor smiled faintly, he’d believe it when she did it.
Charlie looked conflicted as she watched Alastor treat his own wound. Which was to be expected given her medical skills were more in line with rudimentary first aid than DIY open chest field surgery in enemy territory, “Shouldn't.. sewing it close actually close the wound?”
Ah, A important lesson her deadbeat father and absentee mother hadn't taught her? His time to shine.
Alastor held up the glowing green thread that seemed to pulse with unnatural green light, “The stitches I am using are purposely overloaded with an excessive volume of demonic energy, The angelic energy then goes for the stronger source of demonic energy, it tries to jump the wire like electricity and failing to hit anything, dissipates into the air.
Closing the wound however would trap the angelic energy inside my body as many of Rosie’s cannibals reported in the aftermath the first surprise extermination.
From their deathbeds.”
Charlie winced.
“And you need not worry, as an Overlord I am strong enough to burn out any infections”
“But it looks painful”
Ew, was that concern Alastor heard?
There were a few moments of silence before Charlie spoke up again.
“My dad could heal this!” Charlie offered somewhat jittery about the idea.
Alastor made a noncommittal noise as he expertly pulled the stitches tighter, “Even if he wanted to and I doubt he would, he cannot hurt sinners”
“Dad wouldn't hurt you!”
She likely meant well but that wasn't what he meant, Alastor sighed, “Charlie I really doubt he would risk his own well-being for me, even if I were unconscious. The pain, felt or not, would still likely trigger his punishment”
Charlie stewed in silence, “I’m sorry and I know I’ve said that a lot-”
“There was a whole musical number, possibly more than one” Alastor pointed out amusedly.
“I’m not good at this okay! I’ve never been good at this!”
“We have time, Try putting it into words” He offered, rummaging in his pockets for another roll of bandages.
Charlie spoke hesitantly, “When I was young I tried to make my parents proud, so I copied the Hellborn in my school, I was a model demoness! I could impersonate most of the...unpleasant... Goetia down to a T in my theatre class” Alastor knew when Charlie self-censored herself from calling someone out, she was really bad at it.
Charlie trailed off growing quieter “...but Dad isn't a demon and even if he hid it... I could tell he didn't... like the way I behaved”
“Hmmf, deadbeat” Charlie ignored Alastor in the Lucifer hating peanut gallery and continued,
“So I tried being like my dad was with me, singing, dancing, painting and I actually liked it”
“I could tell”, Alastor was again ignored.
“But then... Mom started thinking I was too soft for a Princess of Hell. She even called me and... It didn't go well... I upset a lot of people lately and now I feel like I’ll never be good enough for either of them... What even am I?”
Alastor gazed at Charlie, looking all sad and forlorn sat on a crate in the dingy warehouse they had broken into for shelter and sighed. If he didn't lift her spirits somehow they’d be stuck in here forever and nothing would get done, Also crying women made Alastor feel icky.
Eurgh, was he really going to share this?
“I understand, in a way I was just like you”
Apparently he was, Charlie didn't move but Alastor could tell she was listening.
Good, he was not going to repeat himself.
“My mother had brown skin and my father was white skinned. Nowadays it’s not so much of a problem and back then black communities would usually rally around their own”
Alastor sighed at the old memory, that was how these things came down to, that fickle word ‘Usually’
“My mother and I were the.. exception. My father was a monster and a hypocrite of the highest order, raping my mother and donning the white uniform whenever he saw the opportunity”
“Was he a doctor?” Charlie asked curious despite her misery and the casual horror story autobiography he was relaying causing Alastor to laugh until he wheezed despite the pain to his chest, “Oh Charlie! When we return to the hotel I am going to give you such a history lesson!”
Slowly his laughter subsided and he continued,
“My father was part of a group that saw black people as mistakes who should not exist, to be abducted on the spot to face some unknown fate or be killed on sight in a brutal manner as he could imagine”
Charlie somehow looked even more horrified, Alastor nodded finally done with the bandages putting his coat back on, “He was fond of lynchings, by now you should have the gist of what my mother and I put up with at home.”
He was getting Charlie so many history books and possibly hunting down whoever called themselves her teachers and eating them.
“Somehow I managed to secure an internship in radio, a miracle with my colouring in that era, no one need know I was mixed and I could bring home money to help my mother. Maybe one day we could leave to a place of safety.”
His gaze dimmed, he didn't like dwelling on the subject, “I came home that day with my first pay check, I wanted to surprise her…”
“I found her dead on the floor with my drunk father kicking her corpse”
Charlie remembered Alastor's once casual admittance of patricide and found herself reluctantly understanding, also no wonder Alastor hated her dad so much!
“I buried my mother and fed my father to the gators”
There was a hollow silence, there wasn't really much to say to that, Alastor cleared his throat sounding somewhat awkward, “The point is, I know what it’s like to be caught between two heritages and accepted by neither” Alastor trailed off, “Sometimes I wonder if my mother even wanted m-”
The warehouse ceiling crashed in with enough force that the ground cracked.
------
Chapter 19: I Was Young and an Actress
Despite falling through a ceiling the brawling sinners didn't stop fighting, clawing and violently stabbing at each other.
Alastor pulled Charlie behind him, too late as the sinners spotted the overlord who had put them into the airwaves, paled and abruptly fled out a window screaming.
Witnesses he couldn't silence, his least favourite type of enemy!
“We need to leave now!”
“You... can’t hurt them..” Charlie who had watched as Alastor made no move to pursue realised aloud, that’s why Alastor wasn't fighting them.
Alastor hissed as he pulled his jacket on hurriedly over the bandages hiding them from sight, “We need to cross into another territory before one of the old Overlords get here, Cannibal Town is the closest now move!”
They didn't get that far.
The palanquin was ostentatious and bordered on the ridiculous, gold gilt eagles and shimmering silver crocodiles held up by silent muscular sinners with dead eyes. Escorting them was a praetorian guard of various animal headed sinners armed to the teeth, some even had guns.
It wasn't remotely historically accurate but given she came from pre-history Alastor would give Sovereign Overlord Cleopatra a pass.
Possibly some style points on account of the gators.
Cleopatra was an odd demon, for all she was an Egyptian queen she hadn't manifested with any of the trappings of Egypt on her everyday demon form. She resembled a humanoid green fish with wavy green and white hair, her eyes a brilliant crimson with black eyelashes that flared out like wings. She’d not changed much from Alastor's last encounter with her, still wearing the same green dress with white sinner fur dress shoulder straps and an excessive amount of golden jewellery.
Her light green gills were fluttering in a manner that, Alastor had come to recognise in fish type sinner demons, indicated mounting panic and distress.
“Sovereign Overlord Alastor!” She hadn't called his that on her first meeting, what a upgrade from ‘uppity mongrel’. Ah the changes an age in the airwaves could bring, “What brings you to my territory on such a night?”
She thought Alastor had changed his mind and had decided to come after her for a snack? Good, Fear he could work with.
“Your territory?” Alastor questioned pointedly pulling Charlie towards himself and looking at Cleopatra who was not shifting her gaze from Alastor for a second.
“Not that I or my husbands have any objections with your visit!... have you found our locals to your.. taste?” Cleopatra sounded strained as Alastor idly held the girl she had never seen before in his arms, poor thing.
“Quite fortunately so!” Alastor gripped Charlie’s chin and made her look at Cleopatra before letting go.
“It’s getting rarer and rarer to find morsels uncontaminated by chemicals much nowadays, completely ruins the meats flavour profile” Alastor shot Cleopatra a deranged grin that made her visibly shudder.
“Worse still the new fad of thin being fashionable,” Alastor gave a sigh and a woeful look, “What an utter waste of seasoning on so little flesh”
Cleopatra was never going to win a game of poker, but even so her avoidance of the topic of her and all the other Ancient Sovereigns long captivity at his hands was quite admirable, “Quite. On another topic, Sovereign Overlord Alastor there is to be a Meeting in the Sovereign Overlord Palace seven days from now, to.. reassess our dominions and stations. Neutral grounds where matters of leadership may be discussed without conflict.”
Alastor laughed harshly and Cleopatra’s retinue jointly flinched “How entertaining! Very well! We will meet again within the week, now if you’ll excuse me”, Alastor patted Charlie's head with a malevolent grin, “I have a dinner date to get to!”
It was somewhat comical the speed at which Cleopatra’s retinue and Praetorian guards made a u-turn and marched back the way they came with far greater speed than they had arrived with, near rocking Cleopatra from her throne.
Alastor let go of Charlie, wiped his hands and let out a breath “Ha! Still got it”
“You bluffed them”, Charlie spoke impressed despite herself as she straightened out her hair from Alastor's manhandling.
“I defeated an overlord whose entire Overlord magic powerset gimmick was gambling at his own game, an inbred spoilt wannabe big cheese is nothing for me” Alastor sounded offended at the notion.
“Now onto Cannibal Town”
“For some reason I thought you’d have forced us to turn back?”
It was what anyone else Charlie had known would have done, though she was beginning to think she should start just asking Alastor for that sort of thing from the get go.
Charlie had never had that enthusiastic of an enabler before, it felt terrifyingly freeing.
“There’s little point now, We’re right on the border.”
Alastor pointed at the visibly marked border where ruined shot out buildings turned into Cannibal towns quaint and well ordered Victorian buildings.
“Depending on what Overlord is currently in charge we may have to get quite... creative.”
Alastor's ears were twitching, his staff switching through stations. The Radio Demon hissed in displeasure, “Most of the radio’s in Cannibal Town have been destroyed”
Charlie had tried to forget that Alastor could hear through audio devices but at least he wasn't a creep about it like Vox.
The station switching stopped, static fading and a harsh guttural voice came through, Alastor swore violently causing Charlie to jump.
She watched as Alastor put his head in his hands, eyes closed thinking.
“Alastor? Are you okay?”
He spoke without opening his eyes, “One of the old overlords is approaching”
“We could go around?”, offered Charlie surprised at Alastor's evident worry.
“No, that one's sense of smell is too strong, doubtless we’re already being tracked, I do not like going into situations like this unarmed” Alastor growled before his expression abruptly lightened as he had an idea.
It should be noted that the last time Alastor had an idea like his current one Vox kidnapped the biblical devil, blew Heavens Golden Gates off their hinges, tried to become God, had a mental breakdown, wrecked half the city and nearly started a inter-realm war.
In Alastor’s defence, Vox was just like that.
Alastor spun “Charlie, be the Hellborn Princess!”
That was a confusing statement, “What?”
“Act! Pretend to be like King Paimon’s wife and order him to let us pass!”
The memories came back to Charlie, King Paimon’s wife from a prototype redemption activity skit in the Hotel’s early days she and Vaggie had performed that had unintentionally had everyone in stitches.
The story of King Paimon divorcing his first wife, his first wife who was the epitome of spoiled princess and the reason Paimon stuck to legitimising bastards, swearing off marriage for thousands of years. Charlie didn't even remember what the moral of that story had been about.
“Wait?! Would that work?”, she refocused on Alastor and did a double take ‘Well, King Paimon’s Wife did have an excessively loyal and homicidal retainer’ Charlie though faintly.
Alastor didn't look happy as he remained bowed to Charlie in a perfect replica of the old Goetian manner Charlie had rehearsed with Vaggi, his smile an ugly rictus thing that Charlie only recognised as such after knowing him so long.
“Perform your heart out and we might just escape this night with our lives”
Despite the situation Charlie was warmed to know Alastor had been paying attention to her redemption activities so closely.
------
Chapter 20: It's Too Heavenly Here
(Replace each line of Inner Universe sung by Yoko Kanno in italics with my lyrics and imagine Sera singing it, this is a musical fandom and I am TRYING)
“Once I was perfect, unblemished, true in his eyes
A seraphim, the best of them but how did I fail
there's not a chance I broke all he built?
How do I move on and find my truth?”
Louder still the words began to echo and reverberate in the hall taking on a life of their own.
“I am no human”
‘I am no human’
“Maybe that my fault”
‘Maybe that my fault’
“How could I rule any of them
I crafted worlds and animals, perfect all
How I wish I could live up to my past
I’ve cause chaos and suffering
All in his glory!”
“Sera?”
The Seraphim jumped despite herself reverie broken and turned to the door.
Sir Pentious had peeped his head in looking rather abashed. “Sorry, Emily told me about the council’s decision I wanted to check up on you”.
Pentious was so considerate, Miss Cherri had better ready herself for a shovel talk from a Seraphim when she got up here.
“Sorry if I interrupted anything”
“how much did you hear?” Sera asked as she guiltily began picking up the letters that had been scattered on the floor, Sir Pentious wordlessly assisting her.
“Oh um, around the part where everything started to echo... this room truly has some fantastic acoustics”
Sera agreed “Ever since song magic permeated heaven our architecture and sometimes our lives are based around it, I imagine it must be strange for a newcomer”
“Oh? Hell has musical magic too”
That stopped Sera short as he continued to reminisce.
“Nothing like getting caught up in a musical number when you’re in a fight, turns everything non-lethal and produces fantastic choreography”
“That surprises me, I though the song magic was contained to Heaven, I could understand Miss Morningstar as a Nephilim could use song magic but I was unaware it had permeated Hell as a whole”
That really was something to investigate another oddity about Hell that Sera should have known long before ordering ANY kind of action military or otherwise.
Sir Pentious carefully stacked the papers on her desk. “Oh, song magic’s always been in Hell, it’s probably the reason so many of the current modern Overlords are in power now that I think about it”
No time like the present for an investigation over a friendly chat. “Could you tell me about them? The current situation tell me that I am woefully uninformed.”
Sir Pentious smiled, “Giving a seraphim a crash course on Hell politics sounds like a lovely way to spend the day, I’m having a mandatory rest break and Emily invited me to a small cafe, would you like to join us?”
The cafe was a small red bricked thing in the corner of one of the more secluded parks of heaven with two floors, white floor length glass windows and a balcony that served as a perfect landing point for those with wings. It had vibrant flowers curling around elaborate ironwork galleries and many bubbling water features inside the restaurant.
And despite the fact Seraphim did not need to eat the smell made Sera’s mouth water. Spice, savory scents and something deliciously chocolatey. Sera settled on a thick rice stew dish that made her tongue tingle from the heat.
Emily was visibly vibrating in place sipping at a dark sugary concoction that smelled very sugary, Abel was eyeing a platter of prawns with predatory interest whilst Sir Pentious worked his way through a small tray of sugar dusted fried pastries of some sort.
Sir Pentious dusted himself with a napkin and began.
“Previously I was talking about Hell’s wildlife and the antics of my former coworker Baxter but Sera has asked me to elaborate on Hell’s political scene are you okay with this, it may prove quite a upsetting topic?”
Emily placed down her drink, “Well I’m fine with it, Knowing this should help our understanding of future redeemed people”
Abel was nodding along, “Sounds like a good thing to know and honestly nothing will make me lose my appetite at this point, I’m too hungry”
Sir Pentious poured himself some of the tea from the teapot. “I shall start from the beginning, back when I arrived in Hell in 1888.
Now structure wise it was the same as its always been, the Ring is a Pentagram, each line dividing the city into eleven separate districts.
Each of these districts was ruled by an Overlord, each of some power.”
“How did they get that power?” Sir Pentious smiled at Emily's question “I’ll answer that question in a moment as it ties into the territory thing”
“The base of the Pentagram is in the North encapsulating Uptown and the Hazbin Hotel.”
Abel had his hand up so Pentious allowed him to speak, “So.. An upside down pentagram? I did think I saw differences in areas when I was down there but everything was so chaotic that I thought it was just lighting”
“The modern Overlords are into themed lighting, It’s a good way to tell territory apart to stop misunderstandings. The outermost parts of the circle are the largest territories, I typically spent my time in the north.
Mainly because Hellborn tended to have high traffic in that region and they paid me quite well for blueprints to improve their infrastructure in other Rings, the wealthier sinners can pay Hellborns with Earth access to bring back things from Earth.
To the east of the Ring is the Doomsday District, Overlords and sinners set it aside as a sort of rage room.”
Sir Pentious’s gaze went distant “There’s nothing quite like witnessing a full Roman centurion legion initiate a full on clash with an army of hell horse mounted Mongol khanate over a tax dispute.”
“Of course Alastor put a stop to that in the late 1930’s and now the area’s nominally ruled by Overlords Prick & Hatchet who installed showers and concessionary stands at the borders as well as set up a betting area”, Pentious sipped his tea.
“Brings some civility to the whole thing. To the west of the Ring is the Entertainment District, the area was built to be a distraction, everything a person could want to do to keep themselves entertained could be done here. Think of it as a circus attraction, Alastor briefly took it over around 50 years ago then became a Roaming Overlord a year later, Honestly, I expect he got bored of it.
The Vee’s eventually took it over and turned it into that neon city you saw.
The south west region is the Industrial District largely responsible for infrastructure and rebuilding areas after fights.
I think the only thing that really changed in that area when Carmine took over was the introduction of OSHA regulations.
And the south east District...”
Sir Pentious paused and visibly drooped, “Pent? What’s wrong?” Emily was concerned.
“...That area has a very bad history..” For some reason Sir Pentious was looking at Abel.
“Is it really that bad?”
“It’s definitely improved nowadays” Pentious conceded reluctantly “but back then ...”
Sera drew herself up and spoke, “Pentious it’s okay if it’s too much to talk about, I should have realised it could be a sensitive topic for you.”
Now he looked conflicted, wringing a napkin his hands, “It’s not sensitive so much as.. very complicated, I’m not sure where to begin.”
“The beginning might help”, Offered Abel somehow making Pentious slump further in place.
“Though Alastor defeated him and imprisoned him the southeast of the Pentagram was once ruled... by Sovereign Overlord Cain”
“wHAT!” Abel’s chair had fallen to the ground.
“My brother, there was good in him, I’m sure I can finally get some answers out of him, maybe get him into the Hotel-”
Abel paused jerked to a stop by Sir Pentious's unexpected and tight grip on his arm.
Sir Pentious’s expression was sympathetic in a way that made Abel’s heart sink. “Abel please sit back down, Cain is not the person you once knew!”
Something in Sir Pentious’s tone made Abel stop, “What do you mean?”
“Some people who go to Hell maintain their integrity, others become their absolute worst selves, maybe once he would have been redeemable but after thousands of years he’s become someone I am firmly sure is completely and utterly irredeemable”
Once it was clear Abel wasn't going to move, Sir Pentious continued.
“In the regions I spoke of their were 5 Sovereign Overlords, Before Alastor took them down they each ruled the economy with their own specialities”
“Not seeing where this is going but I’m listening” Abel breathed, righting his chair and sitting down to listen.
“Overlord Columbus of the Entertainment District turned it into a den of sexual depravity,
Overlord Marquez of the industrial district handled weaponry and deathtraps,
Uptown passed through Hellborn leadership, bartering and trading with other rings,
Doomsday District in the east was where deals and agreements were made and sealed in blood
The District Cain ruled was famed for one thing, Soul deals and.. child trafficking.”
“What?” Emily had her hands over her mouth and Abel had gone pale.
Sir Pentious was miserable “No one likes a kiddie fiddler so naturally most people entering hell would think.. to redeem themselves, by attacking Cain’s Town and they did.
Unfortunately they’d get defeated and Cain would torture them until they’d hand over their souls increasing his power until no one could challenge him”
“Adam told me he couldn't find Cain” Sera asked curiously, Now she suspected Adam had been motivated by grief when he suggested the exterminations such a short while after she had granted him permission to look for Cain in Hell and coming back empty handed.
Sir Pentious perked up.
“Alastor defeated Cain in the early 40’s and sealed him in the Airwaves, one of his most explosive fights of that era… Looking back on that.. I realise he was taking it easy on me”
Something still bothered Sera, “I find it hard to believe Lucifer would not interfere if Hellborn children were at risk from Cain”
“They were Sinner Children”
This time it was Sera’s chair that went crashing to the floor, in pieces even. “WHAT!? That’s not possible...” Sir Pentious’s gaze went sad.
“...Many times on Earth a starving family would be driven to desperation and feed their children meat not of animal origin, just to.. live on.”
Sera sank down to her knees and Sir Pentious hurriedly guided her to another chair.
“The sinner children are, for the most part, all unwilling or unknowingly cannibals, they don't age physically or mentally. Luckily Overlord Rosie ended taking over the area and looking after the children, charming lady, It’s now one of the most civilised places in hell.
Cannibal Town, aside from the cannibalism and risk of being eaten it’s the very model of a quaint Victorian Town, all children found in other territories are sent there by unanimous agreement of the current Overlords. That was one of the reason’s Alastor stopped trapping Overlords in the airwaves to broadcast over the radio, there was an agreement he put in place.”
Having been silent for a while Abel spoke up his eyes distant, “Awan disappeared, back when the Earth was new. I thought maybe she chose to leave with the caravan north despite Father refusing her, I looked for her, followed her trail… Then Cain attacked me suddenly out of nowhere... and I woke up in Heaven. Father told me he never found her, she was eight.”
The group was stricken silent, none noticed the Winner silently retreating back into the hallway.
------
Chapter 21: Cry Wolf
“Who Dares Interrupt Us!”
The voice of the Princess of Hell boomed across the street, shaking dirt from roof’s and rattling windows. Scarlet and emerald fire twinning between her crimson horns, above which sat suspended a glittering obsidian tiara. Her eyes were a vibrant bloody red sclera with white irises and catlike slit pupils that made something unnamable deep in Timur's soul quake.
“Should not I be the one asking this of the duo who trespass upon my territory!” Called Sovereign Overlord Timur undeterred, he’d dealt with powerful arrogant hellborn before and he’d do it again.
That sentiment lasted to the moment before he recognised the stag sinner by her side and swiftly his courage died along with his eyes narrowing to pinpricks, fur rising against his control.
Several things slid into place, the hushed whispers of the Radio Demon allegedly having royal sponsorship to cut down the Overlords suddenly cementing into fact.
Then the Radio Demon spoke his voice was sharp, expression wild and teeth bared,
“In the absence of her Father, his Majesty King Lucifer, The Morningstar, Unsurper of God, God of this Realm, All territories within this Ring belong to the Princess of Hell, She will walk wherever she chooses Sinner!” Alastor manifested a fistful of green spectral fire in his hands, entwined with shadows that hissed and spat like acid, He looked ready to kill.
So The Royal Family was behind the Sovereign Overlords imprisonment, suddenly Timur felt somewhat comforted that his greatest defeat was inevitable.
“I see, Did we anger their infernal majesties? I assure you we can settle our differences. Whatever you desire we shall accommodate, Slaves? Men and Women of all stripes and colours and appearance of whatever bestial degree.”
The Princess’s nostrils flared in disdain, he tried again hiding his desperation.
“Were our yearly tithes insufficient? Given time we can increase the amount?”
The Princesses pet demon snapped, “HOW DARE YOU ASSUME THAT HER MAJESTY CAN BE BOUGHT!!!”
Several of Overlord Timur’s subordinates backed away with muffled whimpers of terror, they remembered the screaming darkness eating away at their minds.
Timur ‘s sin was Wrath not Prideful Stupidity, he dropped to one knee, teeth grit head bowed, “I.. Apologise.”
The princess’s gaze was piercing and her tone utterly dismissive, “In truth we have no business, I am taking my sojourn where I will and You Are In My Way” Unspoken the message, Timur will get out of her way or be squashed like a gnat.
“I apologise I have no right to inflict my presence upon your most august personage-” Timur nearly swallowed his own tongue as the Radio Demon turned his head to an an unnatural angle with a bone breaking crack and growled loudly crimson eyes shadowy and utterly unhinged, “You’d do well to remember that mutt! Unless you’re eager for the princess to order you put back into the screaming nothing once more?”
A fanatic Timur realised, that’s what the Radio Demon really was. Is this what happened to people who make deals with the Devil’s Daughter?
“Be calm my Executioner, I’m sure Overlord Timid has learned his lesson?” Interesting, the Morningstar Princess seemed to possess some ability to command the rabid beast beyond ‘fetch’, her hand gently cradling the Radio Demon’s cheek, most signs of his hyper aggression fading from his body. He was still gazing at Timur like he wanted to eat his innards, Timur shivered and the Radio Demon smirked.
Timur’s group scrambled out of the way, As the two left, the Princesses red coat fluttering in the wind Timur and his entourage gave matching sighs of relief.
Alastor loved working with theatre kids, The improvisation was spectacular and the results often times explosively entertaining.
Once out of sight Charlie reverted to her normal form with a wince and a stagger, catching the tiara before it fell and pocketing it. She wasnt used to maintaining her demon form in such a manner, Alastor's own cantrip special effect magic faded away.
She carefully took off Alastor's coat and turned it inside out hiding the incredibly soft red pelt inner lining and trading it back to Alastor for her black cloak.
Alastor accepted the cloak as well as Charlie's offered handkerchief and rubbed furiously at his cheek where Charlie had touched him, they had agreed beforehand to really sell the act but Alastor's skin still crawled from the brief skin contact.
Still it was amusing, “I must say Charlie I haven't heard such a good impression of King Paimon’s ilk since Zestial got drunk in 1989 and started reciting poetry at Camilla’s Birthday party.”
Charlie looked curious and it would be a good story to keep her distracted on their entrance to the heart of cannibal town, except Alastor sensed something he had hoped to never encounter again.
Something familiar hovering above them with a quiet electrical hum, he looked up and his stomach sunk into his boots.
“Oh god fucking damnit.”
A Voxte- Veetek drone was hovering behind the two, wiggling one of its extendable grippers in a mockery of a wave. Alastor eyes narrowed ears back and hunched over before thinking better of it, straightening his posture with a huff he turned to Charlie and pointedly marched on determined to ignore it.
Charlie caught up to him, Charlie who had also noticed the drone and was also blushing, “Sooo um.. How.. long do you think that was recording for?”
Meanwhile back at Hazbin Hotel
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! HAAA! Ooooh ahhh I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe”, Rosie was fanning herself and leaning against Carmilla who was also uncontrollably giggling, Susan was wheezing “Tell me you recorded that box brat!”
Vox’s display was buffering and the i-pad was physically shaking, having muted himself he lazily pasted a thumbs up emoji on his screen eliciting a new wave of laughter.
The wall of the meeting room was now a hodgepodge of monitors thanks to Baxter and Vox.
Vox who after much cajoling had remotely commandeered all of his remaining drones left in the area to survey the Pentagram and try to track Charlie down.
The front and centremost monitors playing and replaying Alastor and Charlie’s performance and success in bluffing one of the most powerful Sovereign Overlords in recent memory.
“Weren't we gonna make a plan to deal with this?” asked Vaggi though her lips were wavering looking at the display.
Lucifer nodded twitching at the duo’s teamwork, “We should be making contingencies to protect the hotel!”
Angel Dust cleared his throat, ignoring Husk and Cherri wheezing silently behind the sofa, drawing all eyes and putting on an imperious look, “Yeah! Who dares to interrupt us?!”
Everyone promptly lost it again.
------
Chapter 22: Abandonment of Fear
“Welcome to this Open Session we understand there has been a great deal of confusion over recent events”
Archangel Uriel was a tall spindly angel with golden hair sheared short and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was, naturally he made this known by speaking in the slowest weariest old man voice he could do.
It drove everyone nuts, which was a bonus in Uriel’s book.
“Concerns have been raised over innumerable issues and we will be discussing in open session today”
Uriel did not want to be here, “I am Archangel Uriel, assigned speaker for this assembly”
Uriel would rather go back to micromanaging the ecosystem on that one planet in the Andromeda system for humanity’s eventual Space Expansion DLC that God was so giddy about.
“Watcher Remiel will be taking notes”,
Remiel, who was still on gopher duty since that incident nine thousand years ago.
“Our first order of business per the suggestion box, The establishment of the Hazbin Hotel as a place to redeem sinners offers many both above and below hope, We intend to open lines of communication with a voluntary mail exchange.”
It totally wasn't because Sera’s new friend had gotten weepy over his love interest and the suggestion totally didn't have Sera’s handwriting literally written all over it. Noo sireee..
“Seraphim Abdiel will be screening the letters as we are aware that redemption is a long process. This mail exchange will be permitted only to those formally enrolled in the Hazbin Hotel.”
That should stop Abdiel becoming overwhelmed with information requests.
“Second order of business, the actions of the Exorcist Army, after much review and after examination by our medical professionals Exorcist Lute has been diagnosed with PSTD and is in mandatory therapy, we realise that this may seem like an inadequate punishment however a trial will be held for her once she has been judged to be of sound mind and body. The same goes for many of the other Exorcists”
It’s like they didn't know depersonalised death camps existed because constantly murdering innocent civilians broke the minds of competent soldiers, what were they expecting to happen?
“Third order of business, The deployment of the Watchers to the gates, The Watchers are a strictly defensive organisation, any demons found entering without permission will be repelled with prejudice, all questions regarding this organisation are to be directed to Watcher Angel Ananiel.”
Watcher Angels weren't at the level of the Seraphim but they could quite easily evict the Sin’s should they change their minds about Heaven being ‘Really Fucking Boring’ or 'A Beige Mother's Sad Idea of Fun' and decide to invade on a whim.
“Fourth Order of business, The Screaming Rain Phenomenon.”
Had Uriel mentioned how much he hated being here? Maybe he wasn't explicit enough?
“We now know the cause of the incident and after much discussion the information has been declassified. I secede the podium to High Seraphim Sera to elaborate.”
Sera showed no sign of being ruffled at being unceremoniously teleported from audience to stage with zero forewarning, Stood where Sera had been, Uriel conjured himself a large mug of coffee and gave the startled Seraphim and snake Winner a winning smile.
“Due to a thorough investigation, We now know Hell is as of this moment in the midst of incursion by hostile forces and extreme social upheaval.”
Sera probably needed better public relations training Uriel mused tapping the mug turning the beverage highly alcoholic, she should get on it, without his involvement. Less worried Winners yapping sounded nice.
“Our attempt to remedy the Screaming Rain Incident were poorly researched and as a side effect accidentally released some particularly dangerous sinners of a peculiar classification known as Sovereign Overlords from a prison as disincorporated atoms floating in the airwaves.”
Archangel Jegudiel who had clearly been doing some serious reading, spoke up sounding pointed, “To those who do not keep up with Hell’s politics, These Sovereign Overlords mere existence is the very proof of the Exterminations pointlessness.”
“How so?” Uriel projected his voice into the crowd, it sounded nothing like him on purpose but Sera was instantly onto him. Uriel smiled sweetly at Sera’s almost twitch.
“They gain power by taking the souls of lesser sinners, Not a single one died to an Exorcist on record”
Their was uproar at that.
“Not all of them are wholly bad”, Archangel Sarathiel objected, “I’ve looked into the pasts of the current Overlords as much as I could before the old ones were released”
“Miss Carmilla Carmine is incredibly overprotective of her daughters, leading to her taking incredibly extreme measures to protect them in both life and death.
Mr Maestro was a german jewish man who was captured trying to assassinate a Mr Adolf Hitler”
“How is he not up here then?” Uriel was briefly horrified at a winner saying such a thing then he remembered who they were taking about.
Hmm okay, fair.
“He’s killed a lot of people in rather horrifying way’s, admittedly they were awful people but there comes a point where you CAN go too far”, Archangel Sarathiel looked faintly nauseated reading the file.
“Mr Hatcher and Mr Prick, knew each other in life and fancied themselves modern day outlaws, their primary crime was theft of cattle… A lot of cattle actually… Don't know where they thought they were going to hide them...”
“Isn't one of these Overlords working at the Hotel?”
Uriel narrowed his eyes minutely and felt Sera do the same, this was information that had not been released yet. Worryingly, despite being in the same room he could not identify the speaker.
Sarathiel did not notice, digging through the papers in her manila folder, “Mr Alastor Hartfelt? Heartfelt? I can’t make out Adam’s handwriting here.. is this barbecue sauce on official paperwork?!”
Uriel was doing them all service not laughing out loud, he deserved a medal.
Sarathiel huffed and continued, “Mr Alastor who is currently employed at the Hazbin Hotel and has been since it’s inception has already cooperated with the Heavenly Court, However it’s also known he was the one who imprisoned the Original Sovereign Overlords in the first place.”
Archangel Jegudiel scowled, “Why did he release them?”
Sera felt her throat tighten with the deal warning her of lying, the Radio Demons words echoing in her head,
‘I want it to be known that this was entirely YOUR joint idea, All credit for whatever comes of this Falls. On. You.’ Condemnation and clarity in one, even if she hadn't been bound by her deal he was right.
Sera cleared her throat drawing attention to herself, “I failed to heed his words regarding releasing the Overlords he had trapped in the airwaves, I vastly underestimated the danger he spoke of”
The muttering amongst the Winners rose.
“However, I seek now to rectify this mistake. I meddled in matters that I as a Seraphim did not understand, going forward effective immediately In my capacity as High Seraphim I will no longer interfere without a clear, immediate and imminent threat, and that is a vow I will keep”
Uriel felt his wings tingle and looked at Sera curiously, had he just felt a Deal unravel? Interesting, he had thought Sera disdained such things.
Then Uriel spotted something that put him at ease, the Speaker of God was beaming at Sera, genuinely beaming.
Well.. Looks like there really was nothing to worry about? Apart from that information leak...
Nevermind, Sera was giving him that look again, he had to be back on the podium and speak more words, everything was awful.
------
Chapter 23: Bringing the House Down
The spear flew overhead crashing into a window, Charlie involuntarily yelped then immediately felt judged by the looks the young children gave her.
“Shush, don't distract Uncle Alastor!” Alastor, who was locked in combat with two ancient Sovereign Overlords, Alastor who couldn't kill them but could absolutely scare them off.
“Actually Attila’s just a Overlord, Temujin’s a Sovereign Overlord” the youngest looking child stated matter of fact.
Okay that made Charlie feel slightly better but Alastor was still fighting two very powerful sinner demons high up on the Overlord rankings.
The children had not been unharmed after being taken captive by Cain, but at least they hadnt been forced to regenerate.
According to them Cain had been driven off and forced to leave his ‘prizes’ behind when a roaming turf war ignited between Timur, Temujin and Attila with Attila acting as the provocateur.
The youngest of the four children was unresponsive, wrapped in Alastor’s black cloak and bundled in Charlie’s arms, one wouldn't speak and stayed huddled close to Charlie.
The older two sported bruised and some scratches just from being in the general area of the warring overlords.
Alastor had briefly explained on the walk over that the ancient minor overlord Attila was the ruler of the south-eastern part of Pentagram City’s star, formerly Maestro’s territory.
Charlie made a mental note to get a list of Overlords out of Alastor, there were so many now.
Before Alastor originally overthrew him Attila was the kind of Overlord who loved to get into fights and was a bit of a chronic thief and looter.
His presence here in Cannibal Town was very easily explained by the bashed in doors and convoy of half abandoned trucks full of things like silver cutlery and golden candle holders as well as anything vaguely valuable looking.
Temujin had evidently driven off Cain and Timur and in the midst of fortifying the town discovered the thief had snuck in in hopes of looting it behind him whilst he was absent.
Temujin having used the majority of his strength in fighting Cain and Timur, found himself forced to fight Attila on an even field.
Usually Temujin could have stomped the thief flat but the Radio Demon had apparently chosen to interfere.
All because Charlie had stepped on a piece of broken glass on a stealth mission.
Charlie inwardly cursed herself, Alastor had warned her, He’d put his finger to his lips and shushed her like a child and she’s still gone and stepped on rubble right within Attila’s hearing range whilst sneaking the children out.
Ancient Overlord Attila had attacked Alastor and the noise had attracted the areas Ancient Sovereign Overlord Temujin now all three were in a building demolishing battle.
Charlie winced as Rosie’s Emporium lost it’s roof, shingles raining down to the road in a clatter from where it had landed after Alastor’s Shadow had thrown it. Attila emerged from the roofing, staggered and slumped against the roof.
Not unexpected given the Radio Demon had brought the house down on him.
The fight closed to two, Alastor versus Temujin.
Alastor’s suit was bloodstained though Charlie, though she only noticed because she saw him every day and could tell it was a darker shade of red than usual.
Temujin on the other hand looked even worse for wear his beak was chipped from being hit by a thrown car and crashing through a house and blood ran down one side of his head from an earlier fight as well as one of his wings being bent near the tip.
Both Sovereign Overlords were eyeing each other up, Charlie nearly jumped as the children abruptly grabbed her and pulled her behind a building and huddled down close pointing at something else.
She nearly had a heart attack, The Sovereign Overlord, and there was no doubt about that given the power Charlie could feel radiating off him, looked very familiar.
At first Charlie thought Vaggi’s late night thoughts about Adam coming back as a Sinner had been correct, then she actually looked at him.
The intruder looked like he was a wearing an exorcist helmet exactly like Adam’s, except the bright red, purple tipped horns were curved forwards instead of back and they had greasy brown hair. Their skin was a dull mottled gold, waxy like a corpse, far from adam’s former living human with a pulse look.
The lowly lashing red spade tail displayed his amusement as he spectated Alastor and Temujin’s fight.
A fight Alastor was going to loose even if the other overlords couldn't tell.
And then something changed.
Unexpectedly Alastor went on the offensive, Faster that Temujin could react Alastor had increased in size, snagged the Sovereign Overlord in his teeth from neck to hip and bit down hard.
Charlie winced as Alastor shook the Overlord like a dog and threw him.
Temujin somehow caught himself and landed on his feet scrambling back frantically, towards Charlie and the children's hiding spot.
Charlie nerves were already shot from this entire adventure, she brought her weapon forward and lashed out wildly, defensively.
Vaggi’s spear caught Temujin in the arm leaving a glowing golden scratch that the Overlord flinched back from and the delay was enough that Alastor could catch up and backhand him through a stone fountain where he crumpled to the ground and laid silent.
“Stand close to me”, Alastor had straightened up, and went back to his normal size stepping closer.
Charlie was still shaking “Alastor you can’t hurt anyone?” It sounded more like a question, Alastor was grinning.
Charlie hadn't seen Alastor this genuinely pleased in a long time.
“The Seraphim let the deal break, However the power boost won’t last long, I’m going to Shadow us to the hotel”
Charlie looked at the battered children, “If you could Shadow travel before then why did we walk?”
Alastor spoke matter of factly as he admired the rubble that made up Rosie’s Emporium, did Alastor and Rosie have a fight lately?
“The Nazi’s put up some sort of magical interference”
Charlie clearly still had questions, but this really wasn't time for elaboration especially as Alastor could already feel the boost diminishing, “Now everyone hold on to each other and refrain from panicking”
Charlie’s attention refocused, she was looking at Cain, “Wait Alastor! There’s a Overlo-”
Cain watched the group disappear into shadow, mildly annoyed his spear throw had missed.
Maybe it hadn't missed entirely, Cain picked up his weapon and idly examined the blood on his spear’s point.
Still, this was an opportunity. He approached the gasping Sovereign Overlord Temujin who hadn't moved from the ground where the Radio Demon had put him down, the specks of blood on the avian sinners beak indicating some serious internal injuries.
Without ceremony Cain brought his spear down with a sneer, silencing the irritants breathing.
That was one problem down, until he regenerated at least, peace and quiet.
At least until the next challenger for his territory came... and speaking of challengers…
Attila, quite wisely, started to run.
------
Chapter 24: Like a Mule
Charlie fell out of the shadow with a shriek and immediately found herself with a face full of red feathers.
“?-Char-char!”
Alastor did that on purpose Charlie thought as her dad near cocooned her in his wings and began to fuss in the split second she’d materialised out of the Void.
Such an incredibly unpleasant way to travel, Charlie got the feeling that if she and the children hadn't been holding onto Alastor as hard as they were, then the shadows would have torn them to pieces.
Charlie got goosebumps at the thought.
“Was throwing half my Emporium truly necessary?” Rosie's voice, she sounded resigned.
Susan was heard wheezing in the doorway, at least someone was enjoying themselves.
Charlie pulled herself out of the fluffy wings and looked around.
Alastor’s perpetual grin looked more amused than usual as he gently pushed the children forward towards Susan without a word.
“You ain't bad fuckass bob” The cannibal karen squinted up at the grinning Radio Overlord. “High praise from you.. Susan” Objectively watching The Overlord and Susan stare at each other in mutual respectful disdain was rather funny.
“Charlie! Are you hurt?” Vaggi looked concerned as Charlie handed her her own spear back.
Charlie waved off the attention watching the children reunited with their community, wrapped in blankets and comforted, “I’m fine” They were safe.
Charlie hadn't been useless, she had helped.
“You’ve got a scratch on your face” Vaggi gently touched Charlie's face fingers coming away bloody.
“I didn't notice it..” The coolness of The Void had numbed her to sensation like slowly freezing alive, only now did Charlie feel the gentle sting of the cut on her cheek.
“Hang on let me fix that”, offered Lucifer his expression soft, manic panic faded, his fingers already glowing gold with a healing light.
“Thanks Dad”
That reminded her, “Can you also heal Alastor?”
Lucifer twitched, Charlie continued sounding more hopeful than she felt at Lucifer's reaction, “Alastor said you might not be able to because healing can hurt, but even if he was unconscious?”
Lucifer’s expression became conflicted, “He’s right, I tried once…” Lucifer shivered as if recalling a particular memory, “I can call Belphegor at best and even then the other Rings are cut off right now.”
Lucifer sighed “What's wrong with the bellhop anyway? Did he get a splinter throwing that roof?”
Suddenly Charlie couldn't stop the tears, “He’s got an Angelic Steel wound right across his chest and I didn't notice!”
“Wait what?!”, Husk who had been watching was coughing, his drink having gone down the wrong tube, “You sure he ain't exaggerating?”
Charlie bristled, “I saw it myself along with half his rib bones! I watched him sew it up in front of me. We should have looked for him after Adam!”
“Adam?!” There was a chorus of shocked voices.
“Well at very least we know the south east Pentagram hasn't got Angelic Steel yet” Carmilla spoke up from the doorway, “If you are alright please come to the meeting room and Princess Morningstar?”
Charlie looked up, Carmilla was smiling, “Well done rescuing the children”
Carmilla paused eyes scanning the meeting room, “Also, Where has Alastor gone?”
The meeting room had the hotel residents, Overlords and a plethora of well armed Sinners that had made it to the hotel in various states of battered, but notably no Alastor.
Charlie felt her heart plummet into her feet, Lucifer cast his senses out to read the wards, paused and huffed exasperatedly, “Looks like he left the hotel two minutes ago”
That was highly alarming, “He’s injured he can’t just leave he needs medical treatment!”
Charlie spun at the sound of muffled guffaws, Vox.
“Oh please, that little scratch from Adam is hardly going to slow that old timey shit down!” Vox drawled.
Charlie spun to face him, “You knew he was injured?”
Vox laughed genuinely incredulously, “And you didn't?”
His face display changed showing drone footage of the roof of the old hotel, the shield collapsing from Adam’s hit, the brief fight with Adam ending with Alastor’s staff breaking in two shielding him from death.
The grainy filter fading involuntary so they could see in high definition as Alastor was hit so hard he went crashing to the ground.
“Radio isn't dead… But it is ending this broadcast!” Words grit out from bloodstained teeth, holding his broken staff and ruined chest as he disappeared into shadows.
“...He never told me he was injured... not.. that badly at least”, Rosie’s tone was brittle.
Even Lucifer looked conflicted.
Vox’s face returned in another guffaw, “Since when did the old timey fuck tell anyone when he was injured? His idea of medical care is hard drugs and that fuck nasty bathtub moonshine he keeps brewing. Hell! Half the time he just off’s himself because it’s faster than healing or sleeping, the freak!”
Rosie twitched, evidently she hadn't been aware of that.
Carmilla interrupted, glaring, “Enough, what is done is done. Have your drones managed to acquire any more information about the situation?”
Vox huffed rolling his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, That drone you left in Cannibal Town got something real juicy”
Charlie shivered as Cain appeared on screen, there was no audio just him stabbing the downed figure of Temujin, the brief fight with Attila that saw the Thief Overlord limping off across Cannibal Towns borders.
And then something, strange, happened.
Charlie leaned in closer, “That’s… What is that?”
Figures in hooded red robes were pouring into the town.
“It looks like he’s consolidating his territory, bye bye Cannibal Town” Rosie glared at Vox for that.
Charlie tried to count the figures, “Why does he have so many ...people.. already?”
Rosie spoke up grimly, “A lot of them went underground when Cain was imprisoned in the airwaves for ..understandable reasons, now they don't really have a choice but to obey publicly. They probably had an easier time hiding from the exterminations too, I would be surprised if more than a hundred or so died to an exorcist spear in seven years”
“Pity” Carmilla sneered glaring murder at the figures on the screen.
Charlie didn't understand, “Why would they have a easier time?”
Vox rolled his eyes, “You can’t be this thick Princess, Exorcists have only managed to kill the newly fallen or those who have been in Hell long enough to actually want permanent death”
Charlie felt Vaggi’s hand tremble in hers and squeezed it lightly to offer comfort.
Vox sneered now looking directly at Vaggi, “I’ll bet it was easy and half your targets didn't run in the early days. Whilst the people who thrived in hell, like these creepy fucks, were able to hide in reinforced hidden bunkers. The people who didn't thrive because they didn't want to act like the demons?” Vox’s grin turned nasty, “The people who committed petty theft or minor sins? They just waited for death.”
In hindsight, it was obvious.
“The ideal people to recruit for your hotel” Rosie noted to the stricken Charlie and Vaggi.
“Good fucking luck with that, Alastor tends to scoop up those pathetic weaklings for his own contracts faster than you can blink. Fucking spying rats everywhere...”, Vox’s griping turning in a low growl.
“You need some fucking therapy” Zeezi grumbled at Vox with feeling, turning to Charlie herself, “Princess, in Hell Prison rules apply. If you see a kiddie fiddler, you shank a kiddie fiddler, preferably with angelic steel. It’s just so fucking depressing that so many are still alive to turn up for that creep. We hunt these sort of sick fucks for sport.”
“...Maybe you sinners aren't all so bad” Lucifer allowed dryly before being interrupted.
“Fuck!” *Static*
All eyes shifted to the suddenly live radio Baxter was fiddling with.
Maestro was meant to be quietly observing the situation, not swearing loud enough to wake the dead.
Something had gone very wrong.
------
Chapter 25: There is No Therapy
Angel Temlakos had never been so ready to throw hands in his entire existence and that was both impressive and a rather depressing reflection of the current disaster.
Children in Hell. Sinner Children in Hell! Children could not Sin, What The Fuck?
Only Peter tackling him into a cloudbank and pinning his arms had stopped him from jumping past the Pearly Gates.
“Let me go!”
“Absolutely not!” St. Peter yelped as he go a mouth full of feathers.
“There are children down there! And don't tell me that’s where they belong or I’ll throw you to the Winners!”
More and more information from Hell had filtered up into Heaven, People were actually tuning into Hell’s media to find out what was going on down there.
Information on the Exterminations had been easy to find once people with strong stomachs actively started trawling through the yottabytes of Hell ‘s hellish broadcasting looking for clues.
No wonder the Cherubs who had interned in the archives for any length of time were so jaded when it came to humans.
The Winners were furious, more than one angel and cherub had had morality explained to their face, with videos, slideshows and recounted heartbreaking personal experiences.
St. Peter had learnt his lesson in the endless lectures about what treating any group of people as lesser led to, mainly death camps and genocide.
More that one angel had felt shamed about the obvious parallels the winners had ruthlessly drawn out for them.
That didn't mean St. Peter was going to allow any angel to dive head first into a warzone!
“You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“Then at least I didn't stand by and do nothing!”St. Peter adjusted his grip around Temlakos bunched wings and sat carefully at the base of his spine keeping Temlakos pinned and paused to catch his breath.
“Um, Are you ok over there?” St. Peter looked around, Abel looked uncomfortable and the Winner next to him was wringing her hands.
Still, some help was better than no help, “Can you please talk some sense into Temlakos! Hell is off limits!”
Abel sucked in a breath eyeing the cloud bank and the pinned angel, “You tried to jump?”
“Of course I tried to jump!” Temlakos exploded “There are children down there! Even Miss Apolline agrees!”
The Winner, Miss Apolline knelt to Temlakos level and pulled him upright, still with St. Peter’s arms tangled in his wings, “You’re heart is in the right place, sha. But rushing in like a drunk in a tavern is only going to get yourself hurt”
Temlakos grumbled but let himself be pulled up, “Let’s get you to Deerie, she should be off soon”
Cherub Deerie, one of a rotating staff of therapists helping people come to term with the recent revelations in a non-self destructive manner.
Abel had met Deerie recently and that gave him an idea. “We could go see her now actually?”
Temlakos looked mulish, “I wouldn't want to interrupt her work”
Abel was not stupid, Temlakos would jump the second St. Peter let go.
Abel shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m her boss, I say it’s fine”
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” The Winner Apolline looked up at the sign.
‘Restricted Area Exorcist Personnel Only’
Abel waved her concerns off, she was the sweetest winner he had ever met and Temlakos needed support and a voice of reason.
Cherub Deerie was in the middle of a therapy session holding a clipboard in what looked like a sharing circle.
At least Apolline assumed it was a sharing circle, Apolline had never been in therapy before because she didn't need it so she wouldn't know.
“Is it okay if I visit Temlakos?” It gave Abel the warm fuzzies to see the Winner so invested in her friends well-being “Yes, Sure, I’ll set you up with a visitor’s pass”
Well, that was convenient.
Apolline helped unruffle Temlakos feathers as Abel talked to Cherub Deerie and ushered him into check in.
Yet another patient, what joy.
Cherub Deerie inwardly rolled her eyes, at least her bestie Apolline could now visit and lighten up her work hours.
Apolline and Deerie had been trying to bend that rule for years, Abel was such a soft touch, Adam was made of sterner stuff.
Deerie turned back to her patient and put on her best voice she had learned from watching therapy videos.
“Now Lute, remember what are demons?”
Lute looked annoyed but repeated the approved response, “Demons at their core are humans who are base creatures beholden to instincts, assigning fault to them is akin to blaming an animal for defecating in an inconvenient place.”
“Very good”, Now if only she could sound genuine instead of as if she was reading from a script.
“But by that logic we should be putting them down like animals!” Deerie sighed, at this rate the stupid exorcist would be here for weeks and Deerie would have to reschedule her planned spa day.
How inconvenient.
“Now Lute... What have I said?”
Lute slumped in her seat, “It’s not that big a deal and I shouldn't waste people time by saying it out loud?”
Deerie beamed, her wrist alarm had gone off, it was the end of the session at last.
She handed Lute a lollipop for good behaviour, positive reinforcement was important after all!
“Exactly, Now put on your big girl britches and get over it already, Think of how much time you’re wasting here not doing your job!”
Lute nodded and left.
Deerie stuffed the papers she’d been doodling on in her cabinet and smiled when Apolline entered the room.
“So what did you think?”
Apolline accepted a lollipop, “I don't understand this therapy stuff, I’m sure you’re doing a good job”
“So who was that Angel who just checked in?”
“Just some fool who tried to jump off the cloudbank, sha”
“Idiot, as if that area doesn't have a ward”, Deerie huffed is disgust.
“How does that work anyway? Blocking downward travel?”
Apolline unwrapped one of Deerie's lollipops and handed them to the Cherub who accepted with a grin.
“Some ward key in the Exorcists main office, apparently Adam had it turned into an axe of some kind”
“Really? That’s...”
“Overcompensating for something?”
Apolline and Deerie shared a giggle.
“That’s one way to put it”
“Why you asking?”
“No reason, Just curious sha”
------
So I just found the Word-Limit when I tried to extend this post to the next chapter, What a achievement! I will post the link to the Next Chapter Post at the bottom and the top of this post.
Hazbin Hotel Scream Rain AU
Contributors in the comment section: @kiochii92, @correaceleste123, @ssree, @kitsunesongs, @renkamisato, @periguita, @mermaid-of-the-valley @ladyvsama
Summary:
What if the Scream Rain was a relatively recent phenomenon in Hell and is actually environmental contamination from the people Alastor traps in the airwaves?! The Seraphim, Lucifer and Charlie demand the release of the trapped souls when the screaming begins to infest Heaven’s Airwaves.
Except the people in the airwaves are in the airwaves for good reason…
Modern Overlords: They can't be that bad right?
Zestial: You are idiots.
Chapters 1-25 - Previous Chapters
Chapters 26-27 - You are Here!
Chapter 26: Theatre of Audio (Warfare)
Báthory shrieked in rage as Maestro's flames splashed harmlessly against her new sinnerskin cloak.
Nice to know his powers were flashy and somewhat distracting against an Overlord of her level but damn what a time to figure that out!
Maestro may have been a deer but unlike Alastor he did not have media powers.
Maestro came by his love of theatre honestly.
He hissed as his hooves nearly sunk into the near molten tarmac. Shame, his abilities’ might have been useful then, instead of draining too much power per ranged shot trying to maintain a flamethrower hot enough to burn anything other than hair!
It was humbling to know that these territory-less roaming Overlords fresh from decades long captivity were stronger that he was.
Maestro did not like humble.
Vlad the Impaler materialised and raised another spear through the ground like a high speed javelin with a grudge against heaven.
Maestro spat a slew of profanity and fire at the freak.
The Radio Demon who had also materialised out of the aether with zero warning, was having no such trouble and was in fact laughing madly as he punted several of Countess Bathory’s servants through the glass window of a nearby shop display and the concrete walls of the buildings behind it.
Combat came easy to the Radio Demon, Maestro mused feeling downright pissy as he tried to get enough space to set shit on fire!
No hesitation, no thought, just raw piss and vinegar, Glancing wounds were healed in moments with threads of green power that cut like knives.
Unbothered by the wounds Alastor was lunging forward the very next second in a howl of static and teeth.
Give him some garrotte wire and his old Maschinengewehr 42 any day!
Of all the days to have sent it to repairs, he doubted the machine gun would phase these two but at least he’d feel less naked.
Maestro’s horns extended and branched, the tips trailing off into smoke.
The tarmac ignited properly beneath all four of the overlords in a blue flame billowing black smoke like that emitted from old coal engine train, oily, greasy and rendering the two stags utterly invisible to their opponents.
Maestro hated being relegated to support mainly because it showed him where he’d been slacking in his magic.
He scrambled towards the biggest pile of rubble and began mentally raking around in what the younger generation disrespectfully called ‘Hammerspace’.
Maestro was the only Overlord who could call it that with a serious expression. The weapon that fell into his’s hands wasn't one he had encountered in life, it was one he had spotted in death, fallen in love with and traded in several favors to learn how to wield with the skill of a master.
It certainly had the element of surprise, at least Maestro thought it surprised Bathory’s servants when the heavier end of the spinning meteor hammer went through her face and skull embedding bone fragments and brain matter in a shop display.
Was it an accurate reproduction of the original weapon? No, It’s weighted ends were faaaaar outside the realm of human strength.
Was it unexpected and downright cathartic to hit people with?
Absolutely.
Alastor emerged at his side, gaze unsettlingly focused on the cooling corpse.
Maestro’s battle rage abated as he looked around, “Where-” then Maestro actually looked at Alastor, soot stained, blood drenched and… Chewing on something very crunchy…
“Did you eat-?”
Stupid thing to say as Alastor’s form abruptly warped, the lightly charred corpse vanished and Alastor's reappeared with a beatific smile his chewing sounds growing louder.
Fucking cannibals.
“I do believe our deer vladdy escaped into the sewers” Alastor spoke though his staff as he continued snacking on Countess Báthory and her servants remains.
Maestro sighed deeply pained by the pun and looked around anywhere but Alastor’s growing grin.
“Are we going after them.. or” Maestro hated how winded he sounded, he did not want to go into Pentagram City’s sewers and even Alastor had to be slightly pained at the concept.
Unprompted the ground beneath them erupted, his ears rang.
Alastor looked a little wide eyed himself as a rapidly decaying acid soaked bullet studded pillar shot into the sky and wedged itself through the second floor of a skyscraper.
Maestro had scarcely registered the gunshots and feminine swearing next as Vlad the Impaler shot out of the sewers with speed and got impaled through the skull in turn by Alastor with the base of his staff.
Again Maestro found himself upstaged by the Radio Demon’s innate murder cervid reflexes.
Those reflexes could save him from whatever urge to temp fate was leading him to approach the newly created hole to the sewers, Maestro was staying far back from that thing.
Alastor leaned over the hole and looked around, his eyes widening with shock at what or who he had found in the absolute Double-Hell that was Hell’s sewers.
“Mimzy?!”
Who?
------
Chapter 27: Trouble Knocks, Loudly.
Mimzy looked terrible and not just because she had apparently been in the sewers of Hell. Her dress was tinged purple and torn in places. The skin visible though the tears was the bright pink of freshly regenerated flesh, Alastor felt a flicker of concern.
“Mimzy, whatever happened to you?”
“Alastor.” Mimzy greeted curtly, Alastor took her outstretched hand and lifted her onto the road.
“Those bitches took the north west back! Together even!”
Oh.. oh deer. Mimzy could only be talking about two people and if he laughed Mimzy would never forgive him.
“My club was there!”
“Was?” Asked Maestro as the absurdity of this tiny woman causing so much damage to the area in proportion to her diminutive size made him desperately hold back a laugh.
“That is rather unfortunate” Alastor spoke breezily, that was actually hilarious.
“Oh fuck you Alastor I can’t go back there they know it was me that narc’ed on them to you the first time!
“Yes, It was quite the struggle to force them both into the airwaves the first time”, Alastor admitted unashamedly, they had been conniving opponents.
Mimzy growled, “They’re fucking together again, fucking trauma bonded with each other like that pet moth that splatters himself on Little Tinny Vinnie’s windscreen.”
“You absolute midget bitch!”
Alastor sighed deeply aggrieved as Vox’s tinny voice screeched out of the newly appeared drone's speaker and he and Mimzy traded insults as greetings.
“Vinnie! Hell’s fugliest manbaby with a fuckton of disorders, what ya doing all mobile like? How’s life as a porn stars portable purse pet treating ya?”
The drone was sparking, “Fuck. You.”
The drone turned to face Alastor with a whir of motors “Also the princess want’s you back to the hotel, wouldn't stop whining unless I asked”, Alastor nodded “Noted and ignored”
Vox sniggered despite himself at the Radio Demon's casual dismissal of someone not himself.
Maestro spoke up, “Do we... care about the North West District?”, He had his hands full spying on the Nazi's in the center of the Pentagram and wondered if he would have to split his attention.
The Unofficial Organised Crime District also briefly known as Alastor’s former territory, the territory of the very first Overlords he’d deposed, He had then had to take out her successor when she’d taken over the territory and helped the first Overlord slip her leash.
That had been one wild decade.
Empress Wu Zetian and Ranavalona or depending how she was feeling Queen Rabodonandrianampoinimerina were not opponents Alastor wanted to fight again with them being both forewarned, forearmed and apparently back together after all the effort that Alastor had gone through to isolate them from each other.
Ancient Sovereign Overlord Wu Zetian was a complicated Overlord, Alastor had not initially intended on putting her in the airwaves.
He had intended to keep her at hand much like Husk, then she’d met Ranavalona and the two had started scheming.
With her help Wu Zeitian had exploited a loophole and embarrassingly enough, escaped Alastor’s leash.
The first and only Sinner to do so.
A very bored Mimzy, in a mid-afterlife crisis, had grabbed Vincent and the two had infiltrated the duo’s followers and slipped Alastor enough information to take them both down.
With Alastor’s permission Vincent had looted enough of the former queens wealth that he’d been able to begin setting up Voxtek, Mimzy however had blown through her share faster than you could say ‘party like it 1920’
He’d put both former queens in the airwaves and considered the matter done.
Later Mimzy had thought him touched in the head for not doing the same to Husk, though she had slowly come around.
Alastor didn't like to remember the time he’d introduced Mimzy and Vincent, mainly because most of his memories were so distorted by alcohol and wild partying that it gave him a migraine to try make sense of them.
Rosie had not approved, she had laughed, but she had definitely not approved.
“I think we’ll leave Wu Zetian and Ranavalona alone for now”, Alastor conceded reluctantly, They’d likely taken the Mafiosi and Yakuza as subordinates by force by now.
Pity, he’d always wanted a Mafiosi or Yakuza at the Overlord table but the family orientated organisations had always been a bit.. weird about soul ownership.
Maestro was edging closer to the hole in the road out of morbid curiosity. “How did you end up down there?”
Mimzy shuddered, “Not like I had a choice darling, Entertainment districts full of gas”
Maestro’s ears went back, “Gas?”
“The type where it's easier to just put yes when trying to putting a name to it, honey.” Mimzy answered Maestro directly.
“Garrotting, air born love potion, that yellow stuff that got banned by the Overlord Council in the sixties. All the nastiest stuff. The purple sewer gas is fucking awful but it’s predictable and won’t make me cough up my spine”, Mimzy was swaying, Alastor steadied her with a hand leading her to sit down on a knocked over post box.
Oddly enough he looked somewhat concerned.
“Did you regenerate?”, the thick low hanging purple gas that had appeared in the sewers in the 1930’s which made the sewers a good place to hide in the Exterminations if you were okay with dying and respawning every ten minutes with even mild skin contact.
“A few times, got up and kept walking, Probably gonna have to force a full respawn to get that crap out of my body properly” Mimzy admitted, waving her hands about negligently missing Maestro choke.
It took a long time for sinners to start treating their own temporary deaths as an inconvenience or as a viable escape strategy, Charlie would be horrified.
So, she wasn't finding out, because she would force both him and Mimzy into a therapy circle.
And Alastor would not survive a therapy circle with Mimzy.
*Ringgggggg*
Vox swore and went silent, a voice emanating from the drone that was distinctly not Vox
“Alastor!”
Oh that was positively delightful, “Charlie are you using the television Overlord as a telephone?”
Mimzy hunched over with a wheezing cackle, even Maestro wore a grin.
“That’s not the point, where are you?
Maestro stepped forward, “Though it pains me to admit it Princess, I would be dead without his intervention”
“You saved Maestro?” Charlie sounded so happy with Alastor. Ew, he should eat someone in front of her before she tried to redeem him or worse hug him.
“And Mimzy! Don’t ya forget about me!” Husk’s muted swearing in the background had Mimzy grinning wildly.
Maestro straightened, “Princess I will be returning to scout duty”
Charlie sounded concerned, “Are you okay?”
Naturally Maestro took it as a jab at his pride and responded stiffly, “I will take better precautions this time”
Alastor added another item to his mental list of things Charlie needed to learn.
“Alastor please come back to the hotel!”
Alastor twitched and pretended to be enraptured by a floating dust mote, he did what he wanted.
Charlie however, knew when she was being ignored, “Alastor, I wouldn't say this if it wasn't REALLY, REALLY, REALLY Important”
“Charlotte did something happen?”
“…There was an incident in Heaven, we haven't been able to get in contact with them, it’s.. really bad.”, Charlie was being cagey which was very unusual.
“Charlotte, If there was a incident in Heaven and we cannot contact them how do you know something happened?”, If Charlie had learned to lie it was a good first attempt.
“...Alastor if you come back and you think what I tell you is not serious then you can have a favor from me exactly like before.”
Vagatha started yelling in the background and Alastor felt a chill ruffle his fur.
Mimzy yelped as Alastor's shadows enveloped them both, sending them back to the hotel at speed.
Vox the Drone and Maestro were left alone.
“So… Want to help me eaves drop on Nazi High Command?”
Charlotte, in her infinite wisdom as head counsellor, the ink on her hell Uni certificate still drying as she tacked the frame on the wall, decided to make some changes.
Why should the staff be allowed priviledges that the sinner guests they had, couldn't participate in? Or more likely, SHOULDN'T for the sake of their redemption journey. After all, temptation got them down here, so if they removed it that should help them to become winners in no time!
Vaggi had tried to caution her that this could cause some low morale among the guests, but... well, she was willing to try for Charlie. After all, Vaggi had been the one who was against the bar in the first place, when Alastor installed it... they'd both been surprised when Lucifer added in the area to the new hotel. Though the ex-orcist secretly assumed it was more to do with showing up the red guy and proving he loved his daughter, than anything else.
Overnight, the hotel became a testing ground for Charlie's new theories on Helping Sinners become Winners! And Becoming Worthy!
Something about the wording really grated on Vaggi's nerves, and she had a sinking feeling she wouldn't be alone in it.
Husk stumbled over to the barren area where once his station stood the next morning in bleary eyed confusion. "The fuck is this?" he managed, trying not to wince at the blindingly colourful display.
Charlie was vibrating out of her skin in excitement. "A juice bar! Oooooh isn't it amazing? Dad helped me change it over last night, so now sinners on the path of righteousness can't be tempted anymore!"
Whatever her blinding grin was hoping to get from the grizzled former overlord, it wasn't a look of horrified disdain that slowly soured into something approaching restrained rage. "Look, Princess..."
He was clearly casting about for something... less than what his heart wanted to share. "I get you think this is a good idea but you need to hear me when I say this's fucked up."
She began to deflate in confusion, then bucked up with self-assurance. "Look, I know it's going to be hard, but I spoke to Vaggi and you can have the whole day off to deal with any hangovers from not getting the 'hair of the hellhound', and then we'll show you how to work the juicer and blenders tomorrow... oooh, you'll love the pineangonut smoothies! I had the fruit brought up from Gluttony just because my guests deserve the best!"
His expression darkened. "Charlie, this is going to kill people."
She can't help but snort. "Okay, that's a liiiiittle dramatic, isn't it? I know withdrawal can't be fun... but everyone will make it through. And then we can have a smoothie party as part of the talking circle tomorrow! Oooh, maybe with some of the other snacks Aunty Beez sent!"
There was no reaching her now.
Husk felt his insides begin to roil and clench. A hangover was the least of his problems if he couldn't get some form of booze around here... maybe Al could help. Fuck, he hated asking the guy anything but... the not-deer bastard also happened to be weirdly loyal to his employees as long as he could laugh at their predicaments. Al would magic up a bottle for him. At least the guy understood the limitations of sinner forms...
Til he ran into the guy, Husk'd just have to hope what was still in his system was enough... or he'd have to break into the first aid kit for some of the rubbing alcohol. And he knew from experience that shit was downright vile.
His limbs were starting to shake.
Damn. Thought he had more time.
"Princess, you are gonna pay for this if I have to regenerate cause'a some nonsense idea you got in your head..." he grumbled to no one, trying to remain upright through sheer force of rage at her persistent stupidity. She just needed to listen for once, hear what sinners had to say instead of bulldozing over 'em without any idea.
She was like a new doctor who never let the patient finish describing their symptoms, already talking over them and assuming she knew best. Handing over pills without checking for allergies or if her assumptions were right.
Pain began to radiate from his stomach outward. Not hunger, not quite... but when your body was literally formed to consume alcohol, then being without for even a bit was a wild ride. Hadn't had a shortage since '87... so this would be rough.
his wings dragged on the ground as he made his way painfully towards the elevators, the stairs seeming too cruel a mountain to climb this morning, and startled as the firm throwing arm of Cherri Bomb took some of his weight.
"I saw. Silly cunt's gone and rushed into things again, and we'll suffer for it... but I probably got something hidden somewhere to tide you over, right mate?" She spoke in his direction, getting them in the elevator and moving. She looked tired. "Think she had Vags go through my room, missing all my emergency kits... and my explosives. Doesn't she realise I'm the thing that's gonna detonate if she doesn't give my shit back?"
Husk chuckled. "Don't think she's worked that out yet. But I'm going to enjoy seeing this backfire..."
Already, confused voices were rising in the floor below them as the sinners sneaking down for an early morning drink were finding no husk and no bar to tend. He could almost taste the fury swelling from below.
Infantalising. That's what it was. the Princess treating them like godsdamned kiddies who needed her to smile and talk sweetly at them as she put things up on the high shelves so no one could hurt themselves.
Well, sometimes the kids bite back. He sure as hell was planning to... once the world stopped wavering violently...
Charlie was starting to get some not so helpful comments in the suggestion box. Mostly about what she could cram into Her Box for removing the bar…
Well, sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind. That’s all.
They’d understand after everyone got a few days sobriety and clarity under their metaphorical belts. Perhaps she should offer light meditation this afternoon to help the guests centre themselves?
Vaggi had already had to manage a medical emergency from one of the guests. Found some plant looking sinner wilting away and begging for alcohol in the lounge area, shuddering as if this was something more dire than merely a bad hangover. Charlie had offered some generic painkillers, nothing addictive in the hotel of course, and tried to provide a soothing presence.
She’d been a little hurt when Vaggi asked her to go and check on the suggestion box, because she thought her actions were helping, but the expression her girlfriend was trying to hide said that perhaps Charlie’s attempts to get a healing mantra going were not being well received. Maybe she needed a more soothing chant option?
Sinners were just so used to having their vices on a daily basis, surely it would just be a matter of waiting out any withdrawal symptoms to get them through to a happier, healthier them! After all, how could they get to heaven if they still drank, smoked, shot up, snorted and engaged in obscene violence?
Speaking of which… she’d noticed that Niffty had been a little more bloodthirsty lately, given the reduction in bugs to hunt. Though her cleaning remained immaculate, as always. It chafed at Charlie that she really had put a lot on the redhead’s shoulders, this was a massive establishment after all, and Niffty had to be tired. Between her constant cleaning, patrolling the vents, killing vermin and ferreting the stashes out of guest rooms.
Something at the back of her brain itched. The compulsion to clean had always seemed… a little unhealthy, especially when the sinner started to delight in the filth, the difficulty of stain removal, and recent refusal to remove stains she then went on to name. It felt… like there might be a clinical name for that.
In fact… Charlie found herself drifting back to one of the textbooks from HellU’s psychology course, and started to flip through the index with fevered excitement. Her fingers trailed over the disorders, and she squealed a little as the potential diagnosis came up… Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, of course!
Technically she should run some diagnostic testing with Niffty, but… well, the little maid was hardly the cooperative type, and her mania was so Obvious to anyone with eyes. Charlie cracked the book open at the right pages and read through the information within, covering basics, treatment options and medications. She wasn’t technically able to prescribe medications, not being a psychiatrist, but this was hell and she was the princess… what pharmacy in Sloth would deny a request for a few pharmaceuticals?
It worked with Angel, after all.
Her mouth fell into a moue of displeasure, frustrated that he’d decided to go back to Valentino after all the progress he’d made at the hotel. It had really upset her. Falling back into old habits when he was the closest to redemption, when he could finally BE someone important… someone worthy of praise.
Still, no time to dwell on that. Charlie shook her head to dislodge the negative thoughts, and put on her best therapeutic smile. Time to go and help another sinner!
Alastor’s jubilant mood from getting one over on Vox had lasted for a full week before the ridiculousness of the new hotel began to grate on his nerves. Sinners were underfoot in all the directions one could imagine, including the ceiling, and more than a few were ignorant of his abilities… or had fallen for the false surrender to the Vees.
One even dared to try and challenge him, offering a chair to fornicate with. Though for the afterlife of him, Alastor still couldn’t figure out how that would even be possible… though the degenerates in the Moth’s studio likely could have four videos out by close of business if motivated properly by their contract holder.
Charlotte had had the sheer audacity to express upset at his response to the overly arrogant little fool, and asked him not to ‘resort to violence’ next time… as if she had no concept of who she had been addressing! And after all he had suffered to ensure her little pals came out unscathed in the grand conflict, she owed him at least a half dozen edible sinners of his choosing from among the guests.
She’d blanched at the suggestion. Ah well.
And then she’d said something wildly uncouth… the little airheaded creature had dared to tell him, no… to Decree in her little uppity tone that she was Banning the consumption and storage of sinner meat in the hotel. Did she have any idea how ridiculous that was?
She’d also tried to hedge a clause for non-violence, and Charlotte was quite lucky he didn’t bite off her head in a literal fashion for such nonsense.
Well, he’d admonished her her silly fancies, and questioned what exactly their cannibal and bette guests should eat then?
Only sheer force of will kept his jaw from hitting the floor when she’d used the word ‘tofu’ and ‘meat substitutes’ at least a half dozen times in her overly excited, shiny-eyed ramblings of an explanation. He’d been completely unable to hold back a laugh.
“Princess, do you think that if the cannibals could eat other things, they would? It is a Need. Just as Oxygen is to living things. Do you understand that etiquette and Rosie’s rules are the only things restaining them from simply hunting every sinner in hell?”
The little creature had dared to roll her eyes at him!
“Oh Al, look… I know they Think they need it, but it’s like any addiction, everyone Thinks they Need it. If we can just offer an alternative and get through any withdrawal pangs, then they’ll see it’ll be worth it! No one’s getting to Heaven if they consume the flesh of other people, right?”
Alastor’s teeth ground against one another, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. He could see this was another of those times when she had fearlessly decided that everyone should follow her as she charged off into the dangerous unknown, despite the warning of those more aware and prepared than herself. Everyone would suffer for such foolishness.
He’d already noted the nonsense with the bar, and sent a poppet toddling off with booze for Husker. Charlotte didn’t understand what happened when he ‘dried out’... more mummification than sobriety. She didn’t understand, or seemingly want to understand, the world sinners existed in; what they lived through and experienced on a daily basis just to exist.
The run in with the idiot sinner / lunchtime prey had occurred when he’d come to investigate why Charlotte had confiscated the item from her poppet and poured it down the sink. What fresh malarky was she up to now?
It had been worse than anticipated.
Fine. He shall play nice, and simply have items smuggled into the hotel for himself and the cannibals and bettes present. It would not do to starve a cannibal.
“You will come to regret this decision, quite soon, I suspect.” He tried one last time, and felt frustration rise as her naive facade failed to crack. She waved him off.
“IT’s not going to be that bad, I promise.” Charlotte pauses, calculation in her eyes. “And I’ve asked Dad to ward the hotel against sinner flesh being brought in, or consumed… and you know you’re not allowed to hunt the guests. Don’t test me, Al, this is going to be good for everyone… just think, you can have regular food again!”
He eyed her with a weary wariness born of dealing with someone who had no idea what they were trying to achieve, once again stepping boldly onto the path of adventure without a plan.
“Charlotte… reconsider.” Alastor intoned, and fell into shadows.
She stood there blinking for a moment, then shrugged. He was a melodramatic overlord… what could possibly go wrong if they stopped letting cannibalism run rampant around the place? Maybe other sinners would even feel safer to come stay if they knew the cannibals could be… well, not Trained to eat real food, but… weaned off Sinner meat?
She hummed to herself, heading towards the top floor where her father was probably getting into some sort of mess. She really needed to talk to him about his anxiety and post traumatic stress disorder… the books had given her a whole new list of possibilities for treatments! But first… she needed him to stop overcompensating with the Ducks.
Alastor arrived in Husker’s room to find a surprise guest, Miss Bomb, trying to manage the writhing mass of fur on the bed. Husker swore and twisted, wings spasming irregularly as his body fought the oncoming regeneration without any way to forestall it.
He conjured another bottle, snarling as golden light whisked it away.
“Charlotte has gone far too far this time.”
“Too bloody right, Red. Look at this fella, he’s about to cark it if we can’t get him some grog.”
“Yes, but I’m afraid we can’t get it Here. Her weak willed father has warded the place against substances or other things she believes are vices…” Alastor’s stomach clenched sharply, a poignant reminder of the hunger always burning below the surface. It always rose alongside his fury, his bloodlust and his frustration; which was why a well fed fleshfeaster was the best option for all about the place.
Cherri clearly twigged to his statement, and quirked her eyebrow. “Oh, and what’s she got on you, spooky? No more jumpscares?”
He mused on the idea of dodging the question, but perhaps having someone able to lob a bomb at him if… certain instincts took over, wasn’t the worst idea. “Why, she’s banned the consumption, storage or procurement of sinner meat in the hotel and grounds! Our dear princess is convinced that tofu and meat substitutes shall suffice!”
The expression crossing the bold aussie’s face was nearly comical in how horrified it was. “Is she fucked in the head? Doesn’t she know you guys go feral when you get the munchies?”
“Hmmm, I did try to inform her, and yet…” He shrugged and twirled his staff. “Now, I believe we need to go out on the town as it were to enable Husker to take in his required level of alcohol to avoid the muss and fuss of regeneration.”
“Won’t work.” Cherri scowled. “Got a mate in room 453, she and her group went straight for the city when they heard no booze, but anytime they tried to grab a drink it’d disappear into golden light. We’ve been chipped or something… fuck me, this is bullshit!”
“Indeed. What about the first aid kits? I understand husker has-...”
“Emptied. Thinkings Vags did that. She thinks ahead. Just wish she’d think for herself for once and get her head outta Charlie’s box!”
Not exactly how he’d phrase it but… accurate.
Alastor was about to impart a quip of his own when hysterical sobbing wailed through the grate to their immediate left, and a distraught Niffty struggled out. Her motions were sluggish and uncertain, but her distress was real.
He picked her up in a black tendril and brought her to eyelevel. “My dear Niffty, what has you so out of sorts?” What has the blonde idiot done now? He only just managed to bite off the end of the sentence. He could deal with nonsense placed upon himself, but Husker and Niffty were his alone to toy with… and he disliked what was his being messed with by outside forces.
“Ch-Ch-Ch-...” She struggled with the words through gasping breaths. “Charlie said I-I-I-...”
Whatever came next was hypersonic and made his ears buzz unpleasantly, before she fell into wails again. As if her tiny evil heart was broken in twain.
“What has she said, Niffty?” he coaxed.
“C-Can’t clean! Hav-have to… take these…” Her little palm opened to a bottle of some sort of medication that he knew without reading the label was some sort of cognition suppressant. The rage was rising alongside his hunger, and the longing to rip just one of the Princess’s arms off to smack her with it before devouring the flesh, sounded so tempting right now.
“No you most certainly do not!” he snarled, snatching the medicants and tossing them away. “Charlotte does not have the qualifications to prescribe medications, she barely passed her counselling degree on her father’s coattails…” He’d checked into it extensively when she’d started forcing Angel Dust to take cocktails of pills, which seemed wrong even to a hell-loving overlord like himself.
How very like Valentino she was, in her own way. Convinced she was right, using her power to exert control over others, punishing those that disagreed, and now forcing substances on people without their consent. He tasted bile and blood on his tongue.
“Too loud in my head, Sir… can’t clean… need to clean!” Niffty sobbed harder, and Cherri took her into her arms with the care of an explosives expert.
“Alright, alright. We’ll make a mess for you here, huh?” she offered.
The lips trembled. “It goes away in bright light…” Niffty whimpered.
Right. Alastor snarled, feeling himself expand.
He was going to go eat the Princess.
“Stop it…” Husker croaked out. “Rampage like this… no coming back…”
Damn it all, the cat was right.
“Then how do you propose we overthrown this tyrannical nonsense thrust upon us?” Alastor questions the barely alive feline.
Husk’s weary eyes met his own. “Simple… we don’t.”
The despondent duck-loving monarch didn’t seem mentally present at the dinner table Charlotte had forced them all to set themselves down at this evening. A ludicrously long display of generic fare on a too-long table in what Alastor assumed would possibly pass as a ballroom in future.
Much like the physics-defying dimensions of his own room, it was far more spacious within than without, and accommodated all the guests. Far fewer than had started their day at the rancid little redemption project, he noted with a level of satisfaction.
Lucifer didn’t even flinch as the Overlord’s claws cracked the wooden back of the chair as he fought to control his rising instincts, the rage pulsing so invitingly below the surface. He could taste the different sinners’ scents on the air already… and he was not even as afflicted as the others who partook in sinner flesh. Well, in the culinary sense at least.
His predator’s gaze lingered instinctually upon the few cannibals and bettes about the dinner table, who appeared a heartbeat away from losing composure altogether. The way their dark welled eyes tracked the movements of those around them, a sharp claw piercing through the tablecloth as their stomachs clenched with hunger, a surreptitious wipe of drool from their lips with a napkins so carefully choreographed to avoid detection, and how their breathing began to mirror that of unconsciously selected prey.
The cannibals and bettes could normally stave this off far longer when in the company of other members of the town, as they were rarely classified as food unless some egregious crime had occurred and Rosie sanctioned a Restorative Justice Hunt. Or they had access to other substances to ease the ache, like alcohol, drugs, even violent brawls to release the instincts in a safer way.
Here they were caged predators surrounded by succulent morsels just waiting to be devoured, and the awareness of just how many bodies were about them was starting to erode the politeness from the beasts within; turning their perception from Other People to Prey.
It would not be long.
Alastor sat with greater force than necessary, the clunky movement serving as distraction and a means to express his own personal disgust with the princess’s ridiculousness. Cherri was helping Niffty to expel the odd medicaments, and making a most unappealing mess in the process to the delight of the ashen, clammy maid sinner.
Husker was, most unfortunately, deceased at the moment.
Much like others in the hotel who had not yet arrived, including that odd Willow creature from Room 32, he had slipped into a comatose state and deteriorated rapidly in the span of just a few hours. Alastor found himself hoping that the winged cat would simply remain deceased for as long as possible, for the moment he regenerated to health, it would all begin again.
The others? He might pause in the corners of their rooms to see if any offered interesting insights or wails in their delirium that he might incorporate into the next show. He cared not for anything or anyone who was not his, or under his purview.
Others at the table were shaking, pallid, eyes darting furtively about the room and startling at nothing.Desperate for a soothing substance that would not be supplied. And yet more seemed to be barely containing themselves from marinating the unappealing whatever-this-was on the plates, bodies weaving back and forth in sluggish nausea as if all their energy was to remain upright.
Ah, this was going to be far more explosive than anticipated. So many weaklings triggering his own desperate need to Hunt, to Rend and Tear and FEAST… he could barely stand it!
Something with scales and four eyes faceplanted into their meal down the table, clearly deceased, and the nearest cannibette launched herself across the expanse to bite at their throat. The thrill of the spectacle raised his heartbeat, smile growing violently wide in delight at the anticipated gore… only for blasted Vagathina May Delphine the Eighth to force Matilda back at with that damned spear of hers. Charlotte standing halfway between the deceased and her previous spot by her father, looking between the two desperately.
The King hadn’t reacted, Alastor noted. He seemed oddly flat… more than his usual malaise, one might surmise, and it didn’t take his heightened instincts but a second to sift through his oddly nauseating apple scent to identify more of the medicaments wafting from the man. He was both thrilled and startled at this revelation. Had Charlotte thought to usurp the king by drugging him? He felt pride surge for but a moment, as the more banal reality crashed down.
It was far more likely the tepid little mouse had sought to regulate the royal fool’s mania in some way. He had idly compared Niffty’s desire to clean to keep her mind ‘all tidy’ with the same way the little monarch would frantically make ducks and jump to meet any of his darling daughter’s demands. It was no great leap to see Charlotte had decided to medicate away the alleged problems without a single thought about the impact…
More astonishing was that the medication appeared to have an affect on a being that, allegedly, was formed before time even existed. Had Hell weakened the little thing so?
Alstor had to push down the urge to Kill, to Conquer, that his hunger sought; a weak foe was a dead one, a nourishing meal. He tilted his head, musing. No, perhaps it was something else… perhaps the king had simply allowed the pills to take effect because that was what Charlotte wanted. That was more aligned with the nature of his powers after all.
It must be noted that the wards were still infuriatingly effective even with the king so vegetative, which was grating to the Overlord, as he was still seeking some way around them or through them. To no avail.
“Dad!” Charlotte cried out, startling the King to animation, and Lucifer jerked upright like a marionette about to perform. He flicked a hand and restrained the cannibette, idly, without a single thought for the process.
Ah yes, the little princess always defaulting to daddy’s power when times grew tough. The sort of thing he loathed in a person… the sort of thing he had made sure to deal with in life, and the afterlife once he saw too many terrible overlords mismanaging the place. Their screams echoed on his personal frequencies, occasionally leaked to air if he was being generous… or needed to remind people of their place.
The internal music was all that was holding him into this regular shape and mindset, currently. As additional sinners toppled from chairs to spasm, create a mess on the carpet, or otherwise decease themselves from a lack of their required or even merely preferred imbibement… other fleshfeasters began to lose control. All restraint thrown to the wind as gnashing teeth and flashing claws bore down on the dead, the dying and those who begged for regeneration against the pain of being Without.
Such a delightful juxtaposition, formal attire and frocks, and a tableau of fangs and claws all desperate for blood. Sadly, the golden light would hold their jaws open and away from the throats of sinners who should be meals; their claws blunting on nothing.But once in that level of frenzy, the bloodlust did not assuage until food was obtained.
Charlotte’s insulting false meat offerings, poorly spiced as they were, would simply not suffice. Any cannibal or bette who managed to choke it down out of politeness faced wearing it within mere moments, as their bodies rejected foreign substances.
“Dad, Alastor, help us!” Charlotte called, using fireworks to blind some of the flesh-hungry predators circling her. Desperate for food enough to take on the Princess herself.
“Now, assholes!” Vaggalia Blueberry Jnr snapped, breaking Bartholomew’s ribcage with a violent kick across the room. “How the fuck can we stop them?”
Alastor can’t help the way a laugh bubbles out of his throat, and rises, echoing in the room at the sheer absurdity of the question. “STOP THEM? My dear, this is your very doing! They are trapped in a desperate cycle of Feast or Starve, and you have blunted their only way to break free… ah, if only you had listened!”
He was losing control of himself. “And you know the most DELIGHTFUL part? All these deaths are on your hands! These fools, and dear Husker… an eternal cycle of torment just for the sake of your little feelings. Well now, Charlotte… are we people to you yet? Or simply Winners to Be you haven’t found worthy? Hmmm, do tell…”
Oh, she was starting to cry. Rage and self pity.
The taste of it was sweet on his tongue as the Rage and Hunger swept through him like a rising tide. His body began to elongate, joints cracking and shadows lengthening in anticipation as the grin grew obscenely large, too wide and menacing. He resented the muzzle of golden light, but needs must.
“And you know the most delightful part, my dear?” He grinned, eyes flickering to radio dials. “It seems I have found myself a little loophole…”
Charlotte went stiff with horror, and Vaggi had to drag her into the sky to protect her from the fighting below.
“Why… I quit!” He laughed, light fading as he turned and launched his open maw right at the little king.
They’d been fuzzy to start with and then blossomed out to big ducky things.
Heh, ducks.
Hmm, what about Ducks though? Charlie had said no more to his pretty ducks… and now things were all fluffy-fuzzy like the world wasn’t real. Well, to be fair, nothing was really real, he and the others had helped make it from-... uh, from the thing that blows mortal minds apart when he whispers the name…
How did it go?
Kreesh… no, more resonant frequency, er, Byhthl-... damn, having this whole physical body thing had drawbacks. The vocal range was terrible!
He giggled at the floppy sensation of his body’s tongue. It was so weird! Even after all these millennia, the oddities of the semi-humanoid form still intrigued and occasionally horrified him. It was like a pet you lived in! Always needing something…
Hold on, coherent thought was returning. He felt his body reacting to panicked cries, but not consciously. And that…? That scared him.
Lucifer hadn’t been this out of it since… since Lillith left and he drank all the Beezlejuice in the palace. He wa never, ever, ever on the name of his father may he fall as well, doing that again. Just… never again.
He didn’t know where former angels went when they died, but he’d felt close to finding out when the angelic hangover kicked in.
Something at the back of his brain was tingling, like a little alarm trying to bring his attention to an important matter. Well, no. It was more all over, but trying to talk to corporeal beings about existing as something near infinite with tendrils throughout the realm was hard when all they saw was a little shell and-...
No, focus, there’s a Problem!
He knows the feeling. It says there’s something Not Right and he, as the King and Charlie’s Awesome and Loving Daddy, needs to Find it and Fix it.
At first, there is consternation.
His fingers didn’t want to cooperate at all, which was rude. He could feel something dancing over his cosmic essence; it almost felt like a vibration ran through them. As if… a string had been plucked, or severed, and he could feel it screaming in the silence left behind.
Some part of his leftover Grace must be protesting taking the awful candies Charlotte gave him… but she’d been so sincere, and really wanted to help. So he’d let the little things fill him with cotton and quietness, like she promised it would.
It was the least he could do after all these many years of ignoring her calls. Of not being the Dad she needed when she needed him. Of not being the husband that Lillith had-...
His core clenched.
Not quite a heart, not how humans and sinners would understand, but something ached within at the idea of never being enough after all they had suffered together throughout millennia. Something that would remain wounded until the revelation beasts were set free to sunder the known worlds and bring the whole thing to its natural conclusion.
“DAD!” The horrified shriek of a familiar voice breaks through some of the internal fog, and Lucifer’s body jerks in its seat, eyes blinking mechanically to focus on the Now. He was always so bad at staying in linear time… why had they set the universe so mundanely? He always thought of existence as a stained glass window, fragments of then and now and maybe and before and could be all shimmering in a pretty pattern…
Wait, what was she calling about?
Sharp teeth were heading his way. Right… not good. The jagged shards easily his height or greater, and not constrained one iota by golden light. Wait, was that the Ping? A snapped ward?
Instinct fell into place and he allowed his Grace to purge the remnants of the odd candies from his system, clarity snapping back into place like a sharp slap across the face. It was disorienting and yet, oddly thrilling. Like hearing the war trumpets sounding out and filling his essence with daring.
Who would dare…? Oh.
His face fell.
Yeah, that fucker sure would test him like this.
Shadowy tendrils lashed out at the king, tearing half the table into splinters before him and sending his chair careening into the far wall with a loud crunch. A bellow made the King squint a little from the volume, but this was hardly the first overlord he’d put into their place… as a means of self protection of course. Not seeking to Hurt anyone.
A fun little loophole he’d found a few years back to prevent his own demise.
With a flare of his wings, golden light encircling them like a spotlight, Lucifer easily brushed aside the shadowy tendrils reaching to rend him to pieces. The deer shrieked in that awful static mix that irritated every last nerve as the barely-divine glow melted his pit-born powers.
Yeah, bet that stung there, Clifford.
He tempered that thought carefully, as if ensuring he wouldn’t be censored for that little slip up by having another divine rug-pull from above. But when no retribution came, he hovered above the glaring dials fixated on his every twitch. Something about that seemed off for the posh prick but he wasn’t sure.
Time to antagonise, stall a bit.
“Whoa there Bambi, you finally want to try the Dad Off part 2, huh? And you couldn’t think of a better opening lyric than attempted regicide? WEAK!” He laughed, diving about the renewed attempts to pluck him from the air, like a plane taunting godzilla in a cheesy black and white movie.
Lucifer pauses, taking in the chaos below. “Oooohkay, not just Rudolph then, huh? Char Char, honey, what happened?”
His daughter was hovering nearby in Vaggi’s arms, her cheeks stained with tears. She struggled to get enough air to speak between sobs. “I-I-I just… just wanted to h-h-h-he…help them!” she wailed, and his heart broke for her.
She really was the best part of him. Just… a bit naive, like he had been in the Garden. And that was his greatest fear, honestly.
“The wards are working, but I don’t think Ch-... I don’t think WE anticipated the level of dependency of the sinners, Sir.” Vaggi replied, eye wide in horror. Once more sharing the blame for Charlie, because she loved her.
“You just asked me to magic the alcohol out of the place, right? This… was always going to be bad but… not like this.” Lucifer frowned, sending golden light to pin down Alastor’s wrists to the floor, forestalling a potential mauling before it came. “Settle down, Bellhop, I’m trying to fix this.”
He glances at the sudden look of avoidant guilt on Charlie’s face. That sent a sinking feeling right to his toes. “Char Char, can you tell me what happened?”
“I…” she hiccupped, “I might have… banned a few other things. Like all the drugs hidden in the hotel, and Niffty from cleaning, and the cannibals from eating sinner meat…”
Oh. Oh that explained so much.
He turned back to the Bellhop and no longer saw a really weirdly annoying rival for Charlotte’s attention, but instead a fleshstarved cannibal type creature in full Hunt Fervour, beyond cognition or restraint. And now as he glanced down upon their crazed subjects, he saw that Bambi wasn’t the only one ready to Feast.
“Honey, didn’t I ever tell you about Sinner forms?” he started, gently, only to cut off in surprise as a key bounced off his head. It barely stung, but another plucked string caught his attention sharply.
One of the cannibettes had another sinner’s corpse in their mouth, tearing it to shreds in desperation to feast on the flesh, the organs, the marrow from cracked bones until the Hunger abated. And that one little act seemed to bring about a storm of ‘check outs’, each snapping the constraints holding them back from their current desires.
Charlotte must have been too specific in her warding requests when his mind had been absent from his body. To tie their conformity to employment or guest status was… admittedly an easy out for this situation, but overall dangerously sloppy when it came to contractual type bindings. He really needed to talk to her about that in future. No daughter of his would be bamboozled and enslaved by some smirking Overlord in future through wordplay…
The carnage below was getting gratuitous, little fountains of arterial spray rising like an impromptu fountain display, as the room was painted in shades of gore and gurgling horror. It was nothing unusual for Hell, on any street one chose to walk at any time of day… and yet, the horror was simply that it was happening inside the place Char Char had tried to make safe from exactly this. Although she had wrought such chaos with her own overeager hands.
Now was not the time for blame.
And he’d never been good at it anyway… after all, last time he’d messed up his Father had hurled him into a pit of fire and misery for eternity… so usually, Lilith handled things like time-out while Lucifer had a small existential crisis over not being like his own cosmic parent.
Charlie whimpered. “I thought I could help them move through these cravings and become better… and now look at them!”
Lucifer, more aware of the circumstances now, felt the mantle of the King land on his shoulders. He would handle this… and then, he would have a talk with his daughter about the true nature of sinner forms, how this had come to pass. More importantly, how Hell was a perpetual punishment with no easy outs, and altruism could kill if applied with reckless abandon.
“Okay, so this is a mess, but nothing that can’t be fixed. Ma-... Vaggi, can you please cover Charlotte’s eyes for a minute, this is about to get much, much worse.” The ex-orcist complied immediately, burrowing the blonde’s face into her shoulder and muttering soothing things to muffle some of the horror about to occur.
With tired eyes, the King beheld the mess below, most of the sinners deceased or feasting, and snapped his fingers to remove the last threads of restraint from the assembled. The dead become the very sustenance required to slake the bloodlust of the cannibals, solving the immediate threat from them. He even tossed a dead zebra-fish looking sinner at the Bellhop, and tried very hard to meditate on the frequency of the universe over the top of the delighted humming and crunching that came from that never-to-be-mentioned blot of altruism.
The rest was simply a matter of returning what was, and tweaking the regenerative abilities of the deceased to ensure that they returned to vitality on hotel grounds where possible. With an indolent wave Lucifer reset the bar, relocating the juice counter a few feet to the right and expanding the room a few additional feet to compensate. Physics was… a really weird trick humans decided to play on themselves, deciding everything had set shape and mass and dimensions. One day they might even get the joke.
For now, he could feel grim amusement about the whole thing.
He re-seeded little stashes of various narcotics in the hidden spaces and crawlholes of the place, they would be found by their desperate seekers in the near future. Had they never noticed how such things would regenerate, or were the withdrawals too sharp by then for thought?
He could not bring harm to sinners, and Lucifer, though rarely as focused on the sinners outside of when Charlie needed him to be, understood that some harms were imperative. To keep the sinners Char Char was supporting alive, he’d had to keep certain things from her sight… and it was now, with only the limited two eyes he had out at present, that the King truly understood how little his daughter comprehended of Hell. Of sinners and punishment. Of the true meaning of helping in what appeared to be counterproductive ways.
He would have to make arrangements with the street cleaning guild for some corpses to be dropped to the kitchens regularly, this sort of chaos couldn’t happen again. It was messy, for one, and it was really upsetting his daughter. That was, kinda his fault, though.
So he’s only blaming the bellhop maaaaaaaaaybe 53% for this…
“Come on, I think we need to have a talk, Char Char…” he soothes, opening his arms for his daughter, and she launches herself across the open air at him without hesitation. She’s apologising in a messy puddle of words and sobs that seemed impossible to be happening from just the one face. He pats her on the back, feeling a little anxious about the fact that this conversation is likely to cause further distress.
“Why yes, I do think this whole charade has gone on long enough, hmmm?” said a voice that nearly startled the King right out of the air and left him fumbling to keep grip on Charlotte.
He whirls about to find a regular sized bellhop raised to their height by shadowed tendrils, delicately dabbing at the gore about his smile with a kerchief.
Before he can muster a scathing reply, the dining room doors burst open.
A fully weaponised Niffty explodes into the room in a cleaning frenzy, hear squeal of delight near super sonic, and a very well armed Cherri Bomb storms in close behind, lobbing explosives at anyone who even looks funny at the red blur.
“Perhaps we should adjourn to the bar, hmmm? I suspect that’s where Husker is now he’s alive once more.” The red bastard suggests.
“Yes. Please. Need alcohol now.” Vaggi deadpans as four sets of eyeballs fly past her face.
After quite a brace of hysterics, things did level out enough thanks to the miraculous power of alcohol, to allow Charlotte to at least stop hysterically sobbing herself to near nausea.
“Yes, yes, enough of this self-pity now don’t you think, Princess?” Alastor intoned, finding his temper slightly more frayed by the continued theatrics after just getting his own sense back and functional. Husker, for his part, was keeping her glass filled, and his own bottle to hand. Like the cat feared it would dissipate into golden light once more.
“Hey, back off her!” Vaggi snapped sharply.
“Hmmm, no… no I don’t think I will. All of this absolute disaster was quite literally on her head and I think if the crown fits, she should at least admire the results. Wouldn’t you say, Vaggalina-Dawn Yachtowner the 47th?”
He dodges a bar olive flicked at his head by the King of Hell. “You made your point, Bambi, just take it down a notch. She didn’t know.”
“HAH!” it explodes before he can catch it in his teeth. “When has that EVER been a good enough excuse for anyone in all of history? How many children have inadvertently shot people by fumbling with guns, despite being told not to touch them? How many well-meaning fools have devastated other cultures with their superior attitude and firm self-righteousness?”
Lucifer actually winces. “You know, I absolutely hate to admit you’re right on that one… you humans just manage to fuck everything up. We gave everyone unique features and you went to war over it… insanity.”
“Pot. Kettle. Apple dispenser.”
Okay, that was a rather low blow, but really, the all powerful thing was exceptionally short he’d get a crick in his neck if he tried to aim higher.
Lucifer visibly took a deep breath and remained calm. No one else needed to know he’d counted all the quarks in the room at obscene speed to keep himself from immolating the refurbished bar area. “You know what? Fair. That’s actually a really good place for me to start with Char Char about this whole…incident.”
Charlie had settled into a mopey silence, clearly exhausted from her upset but trying to remain attentive. To find out where she’d gone so wrong.
“Char Char, something your mother and I never really got a chance to fully explain to you was the punishment system here in Hell and the way it’s designed to maintain peak levels of suffering no matter how hard the denizens try. Your cat friend here, Hunk…”
“Husk, majesty.” Husker said around the bottle mouth. His wings fluffing out in a display of relaxation and comfort once more.
“...-Husk, of course. He drank in life, gambled I assume based on the wings. The Royal family can use our abilities to Really Look at a sinner to see what their crimes were, it’s written in their forms, and in their core. But, just on the surface, there’s also a lot of information.” Lucifer said, he was fiddling with a napkin and folding it into a too realistic duck shape that honestly shouldn’t be possible.
“Hell sees that and cranks the Need to Gamble past the maximum, but that’s something that can actively be resisted with work if it’s one of the dual-curses. If gambling was his only vice, not making a bet on the daily could send you into a twitching mess. The whole system is designed to get you on the ground and keep kicking, Char Char.” Lucifer huffed a hollow laugh. He’d hated the whole thing the more he read of it, chained down here for so long. “What can actually kill a sinner like Husk is taking away his alcohol.”
“Did, actually. Thanks for that.”
“Why yes, and I don’t take kindly to my employees being murdered… so we shall have to have recompense for that, Charlotte.” Alastor added, grip on his cane tight and eyes spiralling into radio dials. He felt delight spark through his blackened heart as her eyes welled anew with tears.
“M-...murdered?” she whimpered, tugging so sharply at her blond strands that Vaggi had to restrain her hands before any came free. “No-... I didn’t-...”
“Yes, you did. In fact, every dead sinner in this hotel is on your hands, your heart, and that funny little thing you call a conscience…” Alastor sing-songed at her. “Oh don’t look so sad, it was bound to happen eventually… why, the amount of times you’ve gotten Angel beaten to death or as close as the moth decided to get…”
He left that to trail into the tension in the room.
“No… no I-...”
“He’s an asshole… but it’s the truth.” Husker grumbled, tossing a bottle aside and going for something top shelf, something to burn away his melancholy from the truth, the death, and the mention of his beloved little spider. Alastor would not stop the man, this time. Regenerating took quite a toll.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, duckling. There’s more here going on than you ever realised. These people don’t just have a ‘dependency’ as you might find in the texts I know you got from Earth libraries, it’s integrated in their forms, it would be like turning off the air. Some might survive a little while, but each death means returning once again to suffocate until the air returned.”
“Oh…” It was a small, defeated sound.
“Some need alcohol to keep thriving, some have to gamble. Some need drugs. Some need sex. Some need violence and whatever the cactus and lizard overlord guys have going on. And others, like the cannibals… they get a special curse, if they go without at least a glass of blood or a finger or something equally squishy and disgusting from inside someone… they will either Starve to death or go into a hunting frenzy. A single cannibette in a full frock coat, mid-frenzy can wipe out an entire overlord district, honey. It’s why the Town exists, why there are rules and etiquette.”
“But don’t you forget what they are, Charlotte. Every cannibal and bette is Always HUNGRY, satiating the ravenous desire to rend you to bits of jerky with civility and Rosie’s iron-clad rules. To take everything they can hold themselves together with… why, I thought they just might end you and your pretty little angel, today. There is no reasoning with a starving fleshfeaster. Ho-ho-no!” Alastor chortled, delighted. “Why, had you persisted, I might have tried to eat you myself and been none the wiser!”
Husk snorted, hiding it in a paw. It wasn’t funny… well, not to Charlotte. But from the point of view of sinners who had resided in the Pit this long, it was a little hilarious how her hubris had nearly had the Princess become an appetiser.
Lucifer looked grave. “I would have had the Goetia rend you into a thousand pieces to free her…” he snarled, horns displacing his hat and igniting. “Don’t you ever-...”
“Dad… it wouldn’t have been his fault, if what you just told me is true. I jumped into this too fast… and… and what I did to Niffty, and to you!” She lets out a gasp of horror, covering her mouth. “I just… I thought if you could feel settled, you wouldn’t be so sad all the time, and I assumed Niffty had a complex about cleaning and…”
“Sometimes, doing nothing is a far more useful strategy.” Alastor said, sliding atop a barstool and resting his microphone across his knees. “My dear, do you think I would have survived this long if I simply ran around challenging overlords more powerful than I without a plan? Hmmm? No. I watched them, learned their patterns, what their weaknesses were and made a plan. Oh it was always a fair fight, I’ve never enjoyed punching down… however, when you see the totality of a sinner, you have the advantage.”
He accepted a drink from Husker and swirled the glass.
“I do not believe in your little redemption nonsense, my dear, nor the psychotherapy handholding you persist with… but I would suggest that it may be more effective if you take your time to stalk your prey and learn their habits, their needs, their strengths and their vulnerabilities before pouncing. To become overenthusiastic leads to…” He gestured in the direction of the easting hall where the bone cracking and explosions were finally settling down.
“...hunh,” Charlie exhaled, appearing pensive. She looked at her father. “I fucked up Dad, and I hurt a lot of people today. But I will do better… and, I’d like you to help me in this. You know so much about sinners and the rules, I… I need you.”
Alastor preemptively shielded his eyes because the ex-seraphim exploded into a brilliant golden light that felt like being too close to a campfire everywhere it touched. Why, his trousers were starting to smoulder! Uncouth behaviour and unbecoming of a monarch, wouldn’t you say?
Lucifer seemed to be having some sort of existential… whatever the opposite of crisis was. He appeared joyful and animated, as if those were the words to unlock the little thing from his self-serving melancholy.
“Within reason.” Alastor broke the moment, causing a geneal dimming in the room.
“You dare to try and limit me, Sinner?”
Alastor rolled his eyes. He loved theatrics but there’d been far too much today.
The glass clinked atop the bar as he turned to face them. “Within limits. This whole mess might have been preempted had you not blindly followed Charlotte’s requests, first to remove the bar and other items, and second to allow some unknown medication to cloud your mind. Clearly, there needs to be more than simply the two of you making spur of the moment decisions… I would like to trust Vangelina Undertow Bon Vivaunt here, but she is bewitched by your daughter.”
“Oh?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “And I suppose that would be you then?”
“If I have the time, perhaps… but even running it past dear Husker here, or even the scintillating Miss bomb will give you a sinner’s perspecitve and information you may not otherwise consider. Why remove the patients from any awareness of the treatment unless you intend harm, after all?” Alastor prodded, satisfaction pooling as Charlotte flinched.
Excellent. A lesson taken to heart, then.
The privileged usually needed to be scrabbling for their lives in the mud and blood of the bayou before they had this sort of breakthrough. In fact, he was almost proud at how easily two powerful beings could be corralled to common sense… albeit with a cannibal overlord twist, with words alone.
Light seemed to be dawning dangerously bright in Charlotte’s overtired eyes. “You’re Right! Oh, that’s such a good idea! How can I leave the sinners I’m helping out of their own treatment! Ooooh, thats the number one mistake they warned us against at Hell U… aunty Bell’s gonna be soooo mad if she finds out…”
The Princess perked up again. “But every mistake is a chance to do better!”
“You might wanna get her to lay down before she crashes…” Husker suggests to Vaggi, who is already tossing the overly animated antichrist over her shoulder. “Maybe put a bottle of water on the nightstand… don’t think most’d survive losing that must in tears.”
“I got her. Night everyone. Don’t cause anymore chaos while we’re asleep, I still have my spear.” Vaggi warned, sternly glaring across the room before taking off up the stairs in a gust of feathery susurration
Lucifer immediately rounded on the Overlord and pointed a finger. “And you, bambi! Don’t you every try to eat me again, or I will atomise you and send your still screaming remains to the kinkiest part of LUST!”
Alastor affected a mock look of shock, hand resting over his chest like a scandalised grand dowager as he grinned back. “Why, of course I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Lowness… after all, it would greatly upset our daughter…”
Only his laughter remained as the King hurled his glass towards the retreating shadow.
Husker poured the monarch another one without a word.
Things were going to get more complicated around here the moment Charlotte woke up re-energised.
Cherri slung herself down at the bar and cracked her spine audibly. The scent of charred clothing and gunpowder radiated from the rising overlord.
Husk slid one of those weird beer cans over to her, trying not to wince as she chugged it down like liquid was going outta fashion. Never could stand that taste of that aussie swill... apparently the hell version wasn't all that different to the stuff they had up top.
He's damn glad he never set foot down under, before he got 6ft down under, then.
They watched a mildly stumbling ex-seraphim make his way towards the main staircase. Humming in several voices at once. It was hauntingly beautiful.
"So that's it then? Princess fancy bitch gets away with killing like, everyone with, ehat? Slap on the wrist? Time out? Reckoned Redguy would have kicked her arse over it..." Cherri broke the silence, frowning. Didn't feel right that the royal cunt got a pass after all the shit they'd had to handle on her behalf in the last little bit.
Husk wore his own confused disappointment on his scowling face. He poured himself another glass, something to stop the tremors in his wings after a withdrawal regeneration.
"Yeah, actually I've never seen Al leave off a chance to teach someone a violent lesson..."
"Oh, and who said I was finished with Chatloyye, hmmm?" Said a too happy tone a mere inch from his ear, sending the bartender into fuzzy startled cat mode. The shadows coalesced into Alastor, grin first.
"Why, my dear Husker... when have you ever known me to pass up the chance for a spot of well earned revenge?" He laughed and there was no humour in that tone. It was all constrained fury under rigid social politeness
Cherri, definitely not attracted to this kind of insanity and not jonesing for a fight, leaned forwards. "Yeah? What're you gonna do...?"
The radio dials snapped sharply into place as the shadows enveloped the room and his grin gleamed golden in the sudden void.
"Why, my dearest little compatriots..."
Husk felt his fur stand on end at the inclusionary statement.
"...I do believe we are going to make the royal fool suffer far beyond her own self pity would allow, for daring to impose her will upon subjects whose existence is beneath her until the very moment we Redeem. As ludicrous as that had been until recently."
"...how, boss?" Husk couldn't help the edge of malevolent delight in his tone. He'd fucking died for Charlotte's latest experiment without any say in it, and fot what? So she could cry about her hurt feelings?
His tail twitched in his fury.
The grin nearly bisected the overlord's face now. "Simple, my murderous magician... we all know her one weakness. Her true desire with all this chicanery. And I just so happen to have the ear of that person... who would be most digusted to learn what darling Chatlotte has been up to in their abscence..."
Cherri's mouth fell open, thrn snapped into an equally sharp grin of satisfacyion. "You don't mean...?"
"Oh, but I DO." Alastor sang back, and brought his staff to his lips theatrically. A red claw tapped it several times before he said, "Lillith, darling, it's Alastor... I have some rather unfortunate tidings about what your darling daughter has been up to in your abscence..."
There was a lengthy pause, in which Husk and Cherri waited with baited breath.
And then a melodic tone filled with royal command responded. "Alastor? Tell me EVERYTHING."
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WWX gave LWJ a pair of rabbits, and LWJ adopted them. This results in the rabbits becoming spirit animals over time and developing sentience and intelligence of their own. And when the war finally kicked up into open fighting, when LXC was gathering allies, out of the woodwork pops up this army or rabbits armed to the teeth with tiny weqpons and wearing headbands, all loyal to LWJ (because he took care of them, and unknowingly taught them to read and write and meditate and basically taught them the basics of cultivation) and wanting to help because LWJ likes Cloud Recesses and Cloud Recesses is their home too, and it was burned down once already. So now, all the Lan cultivators have one or two companion rabbits. And the rabbits are vicious guerilla/commando soldiers willing to do anything to protect their home.
Fastforward some time, the rabbits become a recognised part of Lan sect and LWJ is “crowned” as a honorary member and highranking Elder (Overlord) of theirs.
And that’s why Cloud Recesses was the safest place for WWX. Because LWJ had a loyal underground army willing to protect his disaster-waifu.
And WWX would wander around with a honorguard of fluffy battlerabbits, both willing to keep their High Elder’s (Overlord’s) mate safe and try to mitigate whatever mischief he gets into.
Summary:
Young Tseng needs to find a new place to sleep for the winter, but the pickings are slim and he is out of options. There is the small shrine just outside the town, but one does not intrude into the home of a god nilly-willy.
Tseng decides to try his luck and hope for the best.
Tseng stifled a cough into his hand. He couldn't understand why his troupe had abandoned him now, of all times. Was his performance lacking on-stage, off-stage? Sure, he wasn't the best acrobat, but his pickpocketing was superior. Was it his status as a recognised bastard? Whatever the reason, a week earlier Tseng had found himself waking from drugged sleep, wrapped in Master Ira's thief's jacket, to angry yells of the innkeeper that had let their troupe to rest in her stable.
But that was over a week ago. Now Tseng No-Name, all of 11 years of age, shivered in his too-large coat before pulling it tighter around himself. It had been snowing the past couple of days and the temperature had dropped to several degrees below freezing, but now? Now the weather took a turn for the worse. The ankle-deep dirty snow was starting to melt into freezing cold, mud-brown slush.
Tseng knew he'd have to find another place to bunk down for a while, maybe even until the spring arrived. His current hidelut was underground and would flood soon, and then freeze again. Besides, the pests were getting aggressive the further the winter progressed, and Tseng knew there were several months still to go before it would turn to spring. So now, he was casing out some potential new hideouts. There was the rarely-used ShinRa warehouse down the docs, but that place gave him the creeps, so he'd rather find a better alternative. There was the bell-tower, but the town guard patrolled there regularily. It would do in a pinch, but life would be overly complicated and Tseng did not need another stressor in his life right now. Then there was the small shrine just outside the town. But one does not intrude into the home of a god nilly-willy, and Tseng had no precious gift to give outside himself, so he was reluctant to intrude. But so far, he hadn't found anything else suitable.
The warehouse was a bust. Word on the street was that ShinRa's Science Department had some new project, and the warehouse was stocked with tanks full of eerily glowing liquid and cages filled with local animals. So staying in there was out of the question.
He had found some other potential hideyholes, but they were attics and storage sheds of occupied private properties so none of them were ideal, too risky to get caught in. So far, it seemed like the shrine was the only possible place. Tseng sighed. Just for a little while. Until he found somewhere else. Now, to find a suitable gift to bring, and hope that he wouldn't offend the god in the shrine enough to end up dead. Or worse.
Acquiring the required gift was an adventure and a half, but in the end, Tseng had managed to collect a bottle of good quality sake and enough rice and nori to make three (only slightly) misshapen onigiri and an incense cone, one of those earthy ones (he thought it was sandalwood, but don't quote him on that) instead of sweet flowery ones.
With his offerings carefully packed in a worn and patched lidded reed basket and what little he owned either tucked away in his coat and it's many secret (and not so secret) pockets and packed in his ratty blanket, Tseng left his hideout, an old abandoned underground cellar, without looking back or saying goodbye.
The trek to the shrine took him over an hour and he had to travel the last stretch of it in near-darkness, the winter sun having set before evening bell rang in the village.
When he reached the vicinity of the shrine he shuddered, and it wasn't only because of the freezing cold and how wet he was. Before he entered, he stood some ways from the torii leading to the courtyard and took in the sight of the shrine.
It was old and decrepit, no one having had the resources to take care of it after the old monk passed three winters ago. The three two buildings Tseng could see were omnious-looking, and the silence whispered around the corners while shadows danced and twisted on the rafters. It felt dangerous. Like a sleeping dragon.
Tseng shivered again, pulling his coat on tighter. Then, he straightened, took a deep breath, straightened, and secured the offering basket more firmly before heaving his makeshift bag up, and stepping through the gate.
He sloughed through the slush and headed straight towards the main shrine building. After stepping on the creaking veranda he set his bag next to a pillar and stood up, turning towards the large lattice door. It took some work to actually open it, the weather having warped the wood some.
After having access Tseng entered, bowing over the basket he held to his stomach, and spoke using the dialect Master Ira had taught him. "This one asks for forgiveness for the intrusion. This one has come bearing gifts and seeking a boon." Getting no answer, Tseng straightened and took in the inside of the dilapidated shrine.
The main area was the size of maybe 12 tatami mats, on the quick glance. In the center there was an old, chipping altar table, listing to one side. There was a cracking wooden pillar on either side of the altar, the red turned to faded brown. Otherwise, the room was empty.
Tseng didn't make a sound as he approached the altar and bowed again. He knelt on the cold, dirty floor, righted the altartable to the best of his abilities and opened his basket of gifts and small supplies. He lifted a small clay bowl and few pieces of almost dry wood chips and bark. He picked his filched firestarter. It took a few strikes to light a spark and even longer to coax that spark into a small flame. Tseng quickly picked a long stick and lit it, setting it standing next to the bowl. Then, he placed a flat rock the size of his palm on the table and placed the incense cone on it. After that, he lifted the wrapped onigiri and set them on the other side of the bowl, opening the top of the wrapping. Next, came the sake. He set it next to the onigiri.
Finally, he was ready. He lit the incense cone, letting it shimmer and spread it's scent, before cleaning the firebowl and -stick away, smothering the flame carefully. He took a deep breath of the slightly sweet smoke and exhaled slowly. Master Ira always said, when calling upon the gods for whatever reason, patience and calm mind is needed. Otherwise, you might end up offending the kami and bring misfortune upon yourself and maybe even to your family and clan. He clapped his hands once, waiting for three calm breaths, before speaking carefully, making sure to use his most refined dialect.
"This one has brought gifts to honor the one ruling this house." This said, Tseng shuffled backwards, enough that he could bow his forehead to the floor, before speaking again. "This one has come to beg for a boon. This one is new resident to the Province, and so has no place to spend the winter season. This one asks to serve this shrine and its ruler for this season and the next, in exchange for staying on the shrine grounds."
Tseng... wasn't really sure what he expected to happen. It definitely wasn't to hear a soft rustle from infront of him, or a breeze that shouldn't have been there. A quiet scratching followed by a barely-there paph and clicking tinkle. And then it all fell silent.
The silence seemed to stretch into eternity, before another rustle was followed by a soft, clear voice. "Rise. We shall discuss your contract with me." The words were spoken in refined Wutaian, but the speaker had a slight accent. To Tseng, it made goosebumps race up and down his spine and he shuddered, hoping that he didn't offend the being.
"How old are you?" Clicking, a bop, and then sloshing as sake was poured into a dish.
Tseng rose to his knees, settling for seiza but kept his head bowed and eyes on the floor. "Eleven since the summer's end."
"Hmmm... Such a meddlesome lady she is. If you wish for this boon, you will stay for a year and a half. If agreed upon, we can extend this time later. During that time I agree to house you, feed you, clothe you and for all intents and purposes, be your Master. In exchange you will be my servant, voice and hand and you shall obey me. Do you accept, Tseng No-Name?"
"Yes."
"As you wish it. Do rise your eyes and join me in sealing this contract."
Tseng finally managed to force himself to look at his host, and just barely kept himself from gaping.
The being infront of him was otherworldly. It was barely taller than an average wutaian female and wore androgynous face of a young person, with flawless milk-pale skin. It's eyes were blue and slitted like a cat's, while it's golden hair reminded Tseng of a chocobo’s feathers. Behind it rested a pair of large white wings, inelegantly half-sprawled on the floor. It's fingers were tipped with claws and when it smiled, Tseng swore he could see a flash of fangs.
"You...are not a kami, are you?"
It quirked it's thin lips into a wry smile. "No, I am not. I am the one called Cloud, you may consider me a youkai of a sort. This shrine is my home."
"We will seal the contract by sharing sake and blood. Your hand." The creature held it's own clawed hand towards Tseng.
Cloud watched in the shadows with a wry smile on his face as the child scampered around his new room in the living quarters of his shrine, setting himself up for the night, wondering if Tseng would ever become a part of the ShinRa and its TURKs now that he had been sworn into Cloud's service. If he recalled his hazy memories right, this was around the time ShinRa had recruited Tseng. Well, no matter. For now, he would concentrate on teaching this small, vulnerable version of his old friend and watch as Gaia turns, waiting for both the power he had absorbed from Chaos when Vincent finally passed, and his own remnants of Jenova's cells to slowly wake up and fill him with life and energy.
He would keep watch over his friends. He would protect them this time around. And, just maybe, he would meddle some too.
All of them were injured to some extent, and most of them were out of energy. Cloud could see Cait Sith lying in the ground next to it’s gigantic moogle mount, both broken and sparking weakly. Tifa was unconcious with Barrett swaying on his feet, shielding her with his own body. Nanaki was busy healing Cid who had collapsed. Even Yuffie’s endless energy seemed to be flagging as her dodges and taunts got sloppier and sloppier. The only one who didn’t seem to have problems was Vincent, but Cloud rarely saw the gunner reflect his inner self to the outside world.
A woosh of air and rustle of feathers told him that they had run out of time and the break was now over. Cloud cursed silently, heaved himself to stand upright and readied his blade for the final showdown with grim determination.
One of the only summons they still had uses of was Hades, and Cloud thought, why not. Maybe the dark Deity would accept a bargain and cast Slow Time so they’d have few more minutes to gather their bearings, maybe even hatch a desperate (escape) plan.
So, with that thought, Cloud signed for Vincent to activate the Master Summon, and call for the entity.
It… did not quite work as planned.
Time slowed to a standstill. A temple rose from the ground, magnificent in it’s simplicity and gloom. But the being manifesting in the middle of the stone circle was not the towering entity cackling behind his cauldron.
The person was short, dressed in a robe (were those scales?) and a leather armor (those definitely were scales, dark green with an iridescent shimmer of the Lifestream in them). The gauntleted hands were at rest on his sides and booted feet were steady on the stone circle.
“What…?” Cloud was confused. Vincent seemed to be no better. Both stared at the short, messy-haired male, dumbfounded.
“Oh, I see. Who were you trying to call? I’m afraid I missed the memo.” The voice which the being spoke with didn’t have a hollow echo in it. In fact, it was quite pleasant, if normal, smooth baritone.
“Hades, Lord of the Underworld.” Surprisingly it was Vincent who answered.
Bright green eyes stared at them in contemplation. “Oh, him. He has some marital problems right now.” The male shifts a bit, relaxing to a more natural stance. “So, you get me instead. You may call me Harry. Now, why did you call?”
Cloud exchanged a glance with Vincent. This… had never happened before.
“We would like to strike a bargain for a slice of time, Lord Harry.”
Cloud saw the entity flinching almost imperceptably. “None of that Lord business, if you would. I assume this has to do with the great Feathered Menace over there?” Almost neglicent gesture towards Sephiroth’s winged form.
Cloud nodded hesitantly.
Green eyes stared at the frozen scene outside the shimmering wall of the summoning circle.
“Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll even do it for free. Maybe this’ll silence the Flower Girl. She can be quite annoying in her insistence, you know.” With a decisive nod, Harry drew a long, thin… stick? from somewhere in his robes. A few swishes, a flick, and an odd twirl, and the stick vanished from sight again.
“Alright, that should do it. Now, if you would release me, I’d be grateful. You’re not the only people summoning an incarnation of Death that I need to substitute for.”
With another gesture from Cloud, Vincent hesitantly released the summoning spell. They watched as the veil crumbled and the temple sunk into the ground, leaving no mark of it ever being in existance.
A screech from Safer-Sephiroth jerked their attention back to the field.
Whatever the summon was supposed to do, Cloud was pretty sure it wasn’t this.
The feathered form of the ex-General had fallen gracelessly to the ground and was jerking and twisting in agony. His wings were flailing all over the place, filling the air with large white feathers. The black feathers had molted to the ground, and the General’s form was… shrinking? What?
It took only few heartbeats for the mass of white to stop writhing and lay still on the ground. Cloud approached cautiously and poked it with the tip of his blade. Nothing. A more forceful probe and no reaction. Cloud nodded and straightened, turning to tend to his comrades.
A sniffle froze him on his tracks. Another sniffle. And a whimper.
Slowly Cloud turned around and stared at the pile of feathers in dumbfounded horror. It quivered with another whimper. And then, a wail pierced the air and Cloud had to clap hands on his sensitive ears to muffle the sound.
Slowly those of their ragtag party capable of moving shuffled close. Nanaki stared at the mass intrigued, tail flicking to-and-fro while Yuffie’s expression of fascinated horror was telling. “Cloud, what did you do?!”
Nanaki got on his stomach and slowly, hesitantly, crawled closer to the wailing pile of feathers. When he reached the messy mass, he cautiously shuffled feathers out of the way, searching. Until he came muzzle to face with a screaming baby, days old at best, face red and ruddy from crying his distress for the world to hear. Nanaki rose and sat with a soft thump, and slowly the babe quieted to sniffles.
“Yes, I imagine the world does not agree with you. Now, what to do with you, not-Child of Calamity?”
<><><> <><><> <><><>
In the end, it was decided that Sephiroth, purified of Jenova’s toxic influence, would stay with Nanaki and Bugenhagen in Cosmo Canyon, to learn about the things he had been denied in his first childhood. And little Sephiroth flourished in the community. He adored his furry older brother and eagerly devoured any bit of knowledge Nanaki and Bugenhagen shared with him.
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Index: a library elf, as she likes to call herself. A house elf specializing in taking care of the library. She returns the books from around the house back to their proper place in the library, keeps the shelves clean and well-organized, knows where every book is supposed to be and often where it is at the current time, knows the general topics if not details of each and every book residing in her library and when asked, can bring books to one calling her.
Brain Fart: Harry Potter monsterplant: the Singing Syren/Siren. You know, the flowering bush/tree.
Like Devil's Snare and Whomping Willow.
It would look like a normal siren tree/bush, but lure the unaware beings with sweet humming that lulls the victim into a trance an closer to the plant, to rest under it's boughs, to dream a little dream. and hen it eat's the victim while they slumber.
But, just think about it! It's a warm, beautiful day, and as you walk the road you see a small grove, mainly some green bushes, maybe some wild raspberry or blackberry or something. And there are these bushes of common lilac/siren growing in there, and it's pretty and peaceful, with the stream bubbling light beside it. The breeze flows through the grove and it sounds almost like it's humming. A perfect place to sit a while even if you don't feel very tired at all. And so you sit in the copse, closing your eyes and just enjoying laying on the soft grass and listening to the wind humming through the leaves and flowers, surrounded by sweet scent of siren and berries. You daydream of pleasant things and slowly, slowly, you fall asleep and you don't even notice. You never wake up. And come next morning, there is nothing left of you to see on the surface, but underground, between the roots of the Singing Siren, your bones will feed the plant until next foolish being is lured to rest under it's thrall.
The singing siren. Don’t own the picture. And yes, that’s actually Wisteria, not siren tree, but creative license and all that.