Chapter Text
Alastor was happily humming along to the Radio he had conjured in the main foyer, helping Charlie unload the shipment of alcohol she had ordered in, and placing them on the shelves behind the bar.
“I suppose until we get more staff, I'll be the one to serve the drinks.” He mused, taking the time to get familiar with some of the brands he didn't recognise, he wasn't surprised Hell had so many more types of alcohol than he'd ever seen before. He had an almost fond, wistful look on his face. “Been awhile since I served barback.”
“You were from the prohibition, weren't you?” Charlie pointed out, curious to learn more about him and the time period he came from. She tried to always keep up with what was going on in the human realm, meaning she was aware of Prohibition, and that alcohol was very much illegal during that time. Alastor had gotten into heaven even though he had broken the law?
“Mmmhmm, used to make my own rye to serve in the speakeasies too.” He laughed, flattening one of the now empty boxes and adding it to the trash pile. “It's curious, isn't it? It seems whatever gets souls into heaven doesn't care about actual legality .”
“So. When you suggested this bar, which is a-mazing, by the way. You actually did know that drinking wouldn't affect Angel's chances of redemption!” Charlie realised, glad that her trust in him hadn't been misplaced. Vaggie had eventually come around to the idea as well, after a bit of persuasion and assurances that Charlie did actually agree with the reasoning, and wasn't just pandering to Alastor.
“I honestly don't know anything for sure.” He admitted, leaning against the bar with a frown. “If heaven condemned everyone who indulged in illicit substances, then almost every soul from my era would be down here. I suppose the difference is that I was never reliant on it?”
“Wellll, I'm sure there's a difference between having a few drinks with friends, and doing hard drugs…”
“As far as I can tell, your spider sinner died around the thirties or forties, not too long after myself. Cocaine was very much seen as a wonder drug back then, my own mother actually used to swear on it for headaches. We were appalled when we first heard it was being abused the way it is nowadays. Breaking the addiction would be my suggestion, rather than cutting him off completely.” He sighed.
“I just don't know how to do that.” Charlie admitted, knowing she was really just trying her best, but she probably wasn't the most qualified when it came to addiction.
“I have more experience dealing with alcoholics than drug abusers I'm afraid.” Alastor admitted. “But all addicts are the same. They are often too prideful to admit there's a problem at all, and lash out if people even try to help them, or make them stop.” His somber tone took on a sharp edge, tainted with bitterness from his own experiences dealing with a certain person with such an affliction.
“Were you close to someone like that?” Charlie asked softly, picking up on his tone, reading between the lines that he might be talking from experience.
“Oh, no one important.” He waved off with an amused chuckle, realising that he hadn't meant to let that slip. Hopefully she didn't dig too deeply into his words. “Just someone my mother used to know. Truth be told, it was quite a relief when they were finally out of the picture. But that's neither here nor there my dear. The point is that this bar is now perfectly serviceable, and I am more than happy to man it for the time being.”
Charlie could see he was trying to change the subject, and decided not to push for any more information on what seemed like a sore point for him. Maybe one day he'd open up more to her, but they still didn't know each other that well, so she didn't know what he was and wasn't comfortable with yet.
She let her eyes drift instead to the vintage radio he had conjured up for them to listen to. It was playing some jaunty old fashioned instrumental music that reminded her of childhood days at LooLooWorld. It was the kind of music her father used to dance around to in his workstation when she was young, back when he was always smiling and happy. The sound brought about a sort of bittersweet nostalgia for her
Alastor followed Charlie's gaze back to the old radio, and gave a half smile. “I hope you don't mind my conjuring us up a couple of radios. I always find a little music to be relaxing and good for general morale. Wouldn't you agree?” He had never liked silence.
Ever since his mother gifted him his first radio as a boy, he'd always sort to fill the silence with something ; music, talk shows, or even just the comforting buzz of static over dead air was preferable to absolute silence. In the silence he had heard every creak of the floorboards, every door opening and closing, every footstep, every breath, every bump. He hated being the sole auditory witness to everything that happened under his roof. Now he was older it was easier to endure, but prolonged silence still made him uncomfortable.
“Yeah, it's nice to have some ambient music from the radio.” Charlie agreed, still looking over the old fashioned design of the radio. “Oh! Actually that reminds me. I wanted to show you something, up in the watchtower.”
“The what, now?”
“The tower on the top of the building? I think it was built to keep watch over the city. But some of the stuff in there is really old, and I'm not sure what half of it is.”
“Well then, I'll be more than happy to take a look.” Alastor assured her, wondering what she considered to be ‘old’. Given she was Lucifer's daughter, and born in Hell, the fact she looked young didn't mean anything when it came to her actual age and experience. She could be twenty, two hundred, or two thousand and he'd have no way to tell without outright asking. And you should never ask a lady her age.
“Really? That's great! Just follow me. We found it not long after moving in, and have no idea if any of it's usable. But I figured you might find something useful if it's radio related?”
“I'll certainly take a look.” Alastor laughed, following Charlie who was already heading out of the room. He was sure whatever she wanted to show him would at least be interesting, regardless of what it turned out to be.