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It's a quiet night in Hell, as quiet as it ever can be.
No gunshots could be heard over the clinking of glasses, no screaming or cries of murder, at least for the time being not anywhere near them. No explosions rattling the oil lamps on the tables or high velocity blood spatter hitting the tiny windows high up by the ceiling of the basement they were in, looking out onto the curbside of a street leading out of Cannibal Town.
They were in a bar where the only entrance was down a short staircase in a back alley, behind a locked door and a password, just how she liked 'em. A small but lively band played, working their way through all the jazz classics she knew so well. It was a dark little place, smelling like old jasmine perfume, strong booze, hashish and tobacco, the smoke from the latter two keeping the lamps of the parlor in an amber haze.
Mimzy cracked a smile as she poked at the red sleeve propped up on the table across from her glass.
"See? Ain't this nice? About damn time you cleared your schedule for me, hotshot!"
Alastor's smile widened at her. He traced a claw along the rim of his third glass so far (he needed to catch up, she was on her fifth already).
"You're maligning me, darling, I always have time for you!"
"Pfft! Liar! Maybe you would if you weren't such a hard man to find. What the hell you been doin' that even Rosie can't tell me where ya are most days? Gonna make me think you're avoidin' me."
He puts a hand on his chest, wrist full of faux offense, turns his brows up and gives her a pitiful look.
"Mimzy dear I've been so very busy, you can't hold that against me. Things are shaking up around here and there's just so many uppity greenhorns I have to deal with, you must understand!"
She smiled. She loved what several fingers of whiskey did to this man.
"A likely story! When even was the last time some small fry gave you trouble, huh? You can't tell me 'cause it ain't happenin'!"
He scoffs at her.
"If only it were that simple, dear. You should see the kinds of Sinners making their way down here now. They're just the strangest things! Almost makes me wonder what's going on up there to make them like that!" He chuckles before sighing, "so yes, far too much time spent figuring out what every new kid on the block is working with when they start throwing their weight around, it truly is a chore."
"Well ain't it just the dandiest thing that I'm around! No workin' tonight, ya hear me?"
She holds up her glass to him, he picks up his and gives her a cheery little clink before the both down whatever they had left.
She makes eye contact with the bartender as their tumblers hit the table with a thunk and the guy nods.
"Though you're pickin' up the tab, hotshot."
"Of course! Wouldn't dream of making the lady pay."
It's just as a girlie comes around to plunk down their next round of drinks that Mimzy spots Alastor perk up and turn his eyes to the door. It takes her a second to see past the waitress to also spot the handful of guys filing into the establishment: through the smoky haze she could make out a couple fishy looking fellows following behind two well-dressed men, one of them with what she can tell has camera parts all over his face, and the other having a strangely glowing box for a head.
I guess Alastor wasn't kidding that some of these guys were the strangest things.
Alastor settles an arm on the table, chin resting on his knuckles, seeming to get comfortable as he keeps his eyes on the party seating themselves on the other side of the bar. She props an elbow on the table and leans in next to him.
"Okay spill, what'ah the goons up 'ta?"
"Just watch, darling." His eyes crinkle up as they watch the square-head start talking to the camera-faced big shot in the group. It only takes a few minutes and a single round of drinks before the square takes a file from one of the lackeys next to them and slides it over to the other guy. She can't make out what they're saying but eventually the camera man seems to capitulate, taking a paper out of the folder and signing it, anger and reluctance in every gesture. It's only once the paper and the folder are back with the boxy one that one of the lackeys not-so-inconspicuously knocks over a glass of water all over the camera's side of the table.
There's a delighted crackle of static from Alastor as the commotion from the table turns from discontent to violent as a glowing smile cracks across the box's face. The guy slides a hand into the puddle, blue sparks flying off of him and travelling directly into the cameraman through the water, frying the guy as his complaints morph into pained gargling.
"That sure was efficient."
Alastor just snickers.
The band is loud enough and it's over quickly enough that barely any of the other patrons notice the goings-on before the boxy one seems to be apologizing to the staff as his goons carry the almost-certainly-dead camera out from whence they came.
Mimzy blinks when the box then very noticeably turns right in their direction and beelines it to their table.
"Well well well, Alastor! Fancy- uh..."
The guy, wearing a decent jacket over a sweater vest and a nice shirt, fumbles only slightly as he leans on the edge of the table, keeping what Mimzy can now see is his weird dark box head with a face full of glass looking exclusively at Alastor (and completely ignoring her).
"-Fancy seeing you here."
Alastor lets out a rumbling little chuckle, one foot playfully bouncing in the air where he has one leg crossed over the other.
"Was that the 'thorn in your side' you mentioned the other day?"
Mimzy does not miss the way the guy's eyes light up, the massive smile that breaks across his face, and the little sparks between the tines on his head.
"Oh yes, nice catch! That bastard's been a pain in my ass for way longer than he had any right to, in this life or the last. Good fucking riddance, I tell you."
Alastor tuts at him, pulling up a lazy hand to poke the guy in the chest.
"You're far too tidy with your business, chum. You really need to savour your victories; it's such a waste when they're over that quickly."
The guy scoffs.
"What can I say, I run a tight ship, Al."
She doesn't let the guy finish before she gives Alastor a gentle smack on the arm.
"Hey sweetheart, are ya not gonna introduce me to the gentleman?"
She doesn't miss the guy's eye twitch slightly at her use of 'sweetheart.' Well that's interesting.
"Oh of course!" Alastor grabs the guy's arm and swings him to face her, "Mimzy dear, this is Vox! Vox, this is my darling friend Mimzy!" He leans closer to her, slightly conspiratorial glint in his eye, "he's still a little new here, be nice."
"Nice ta meetcha, kid!"
Vox laughs, notably drier than his tone before.
"The pleasure is all mine."
Vox's eyes flick to the band as a new song starts up.
"The-uh the music's pretty good here, huh?"
"Aren't they?" The little tines on Vox's head as well as his eyes light up again when Alastor gives him a playful but wobbly shove.
Mimzy's brows fly up when Vox takes the hand that shoved him in his, and that Alastor doesn't immediately pull it away.
"Y'know Al, speaking of savouring victories, maybe we could-"
He doesn't get to finish before they're all looking in the direction of the door and the sound of a ruckus happening just outside.
"Uh oh! Sounds like a scuffle!" Alastor drawls.
Vox looks decidedly less enthused.
"What are those fucking idiots doing..." she hears him grumble under his breath before putting a smile back on when he turns to Alastor, "hey so I gotta bounce, catch you for lunch tomorrow?"
"If you can find me, pal!" he snickers at Vox.
"Bet on it." Vox gives Al a crinkly smile before obviously reluctantly dropping Alastor's hand and turning to the door, barking orders likely at the goons from earlier before disappearing.
She doesn't miss that Alastor's eyes follow the man out with an easy smile on his face.
She leans over, close to his ear, with a conspiratorial grin of her own.
"So that's the greenhorn keepin' ya busy, huh?"
Alastor startles.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Oh don't play dumb, love! He likes ya! It's all over his face!"
"He's an associate, Mimzy. He likes me enough to at the very least be on speaking terms!"
"Uh huh. That's why he seems to be able to find ya a hell of a lot easier than me, right?"
Alastor's eyes light up and he turns to her proper, and that certainly piques her interest.
"Well actually there's quite the fascinating reason for that! Did you see those silly little baubles on those antennae on his head? I understand if you didn't, his big boxy head does get in the way, doesn't it? But! They aren't just for show, they're just like a radio antenna but just smaller, and they..."
She quirks a brow at him, but does nothing else but smile as she lets him rattle on about this new 'associate.'
"... so with just a bit of tuning, it's not terribly difficult for either of us to tell when the other is up to something, especially him! If you could only hear how loud that man's brain is sometimes, I tell you!"
Mimzy bites her lip as she chuckles.
"Oh kitten, you're charmed by him!"
His eyes widen and his brows fly up.
"What now? No! Not in the slightest!"
"You are! Lookit you!" She gives his arm another playful smack, "oh hun, if I knew ya liked boys I woulda gotten you so many dates when we were alive!"
"Mimzy you are being ridiculous!" He grumbles into his glass.
She snickers as she picks up her own.
"Does Rosie know? She'd be over the moon that ya found someone."
"No, no, no! Absolutely not, and if you," he jabs a finger into her cheek and she squawks, "go around telling her what I think you're saying, then don't!"
"Awww, but sweetie-!"
"Mimzy."
"Ugh! Fine. But you better keep me updated on your boy, then! I wanna hear all the goss~"
She offers her glass, and he brings his over with a clink.
"I make no such promises."
She grins behind the lip of her glass as they drain their drinks.
She's slipping tonight into her back pocket for later, for sure.