Chapter Text
Alastor was always up bright and early, but today he'd woken up even earlier than usual. So he decided to stay in his room and try to organize his thoughts in his journal, before going downstairs to make a start on breakfast. He'd learnt a lot of information yesterday, and it only gave him so many more questions.
Questions that he needed to investigate in his own time, but that was very much a side project. Like figuring out what was going on with his shadow… He was here to see if this redemption thing could work, not contemplate his own mortality or grace. His interest in how Hell operated was growing all the time. Curiosity always had been his downfall, it had gotten him into more than a few sticky situations when he was alive. He was just lucky that he seemed to have a knack for getting himself out of trouble, not just into it.
Tonight he needed to contact his mother again. She should have had enough time by now to find any information she could about the girl Adam was always seen with. She had to be one of these exorcist angels that came down to kill sinners under his command, it only made sense. His obsessive fans were barely ever seen, and when they were they always seemed to all look and dress in a similar fashion. He'd assumed it was a brand thing with Adams rockstar image, but them actually being members of his twisted little murder cult now seemed like the more likely reason.
Were they heavenborn? Or Human souls that had been recruited and twisted into an army? He’s not sure which option was worse.
Had any of them been killed during their slaughter in Hell? If they had, did they become sinners? Did they come back like sinners apparently did?
Alastor glanced down at his hand, at the small mark where he had accidentally cut himself on the broken photo frame in the hunting lodge. The slight smear of golden blood had turned an orangy-red once he'd put the disguise ring back on, which was good to know. The last thing he needed was to be found out because a minor injury made him bleed gold. He still healed as normally as he did in heaven, but that cut hadn't been with angelic steel. Part of him wanted to do a test on if the blessed metal would affect his healing or not, but part of him was worried about if it was too dangerous, or if it would have a bad reaction to him.
He added it to the list of things he needed to ask his mother about. Time was getting on, and he needed to make a start on food if he wanted it done for when people were ready to start their day.
Alastor managed to make his way to the kitchen before anyone else had even stirred from their rooms. He even remembered to bring the chicory root from the hunting lodge. To his surprise, the lodge had remained even after he woke up. Usually it was too large an area to sustain, and faded when he wasn't directly focused on it. He wasn't sure why it was different now, but it was a nice surprise to not have to resummon it this morning.
After the fancier dinner he made yesterday, breakfast was relatively simple but he still put in an effort; Pain Perdu, eggs, and using some of the leftover venison from last night, he made Venison stuffed biscuits. He brewed the coffee with the chicory root since Charlie seemed to like it last night. Hopefully Angel-Dust and Vaggie wouldn't have an issue with it.
He enjoyed cooking, and cooking for others was more rewarding than cooking for oneself. By the time he was putting breakfast on the table, Angel-dust was sinking heavily into one of the chairs, clad in short but comfortable fluffy pink pajamas.
“Sleep well?” Alastor joked as he placed a cup of coffee down in front of the still sleepy looking spider. The sinner clearly wasn't fully awake yet.
“Urgh, Val wants me in today for more reshoots. Today was meant to be my day off!. He was texting me all night with ideas.” The spider complained, rubbing at his eyes with his top set of hands, while grabbing the warm coffee cup with both of his lower ones.
“I'm sure Charlie won't mind you missing out on her activities tonight if you're too tired or need to work late.” Alastor said sympathetically, assuming Val was the boss Angel-Dust didn't exactly speak highly of. “I'm sure she understands that you still need to do your job.”
Angel-dust muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘as if I have a choice’, before sighing and leaning back in the chair. He ran his hands through his fur with a long sigh, before giving a little amused huff, as if he suddenly remembered that he was meant to be more put together than be felt.
Alastor still wasn't sure if Angel-Dust liked his job, or despised it, it was hard to tell just how good he was at acting the part of a confident and cocky pornstar. Because he was acting. Alastor could spot the mask straight away when Angel switched to his flirty ‘celebrity’ persona. But he'd be the world's biggest hypocrite to call him out or judge him for that.
Angel finally lifted the mug of Coffee to his lips, only to pause after the first mouthful. He looked up at Alastor for the first time. “This new coffee?”
“Mmhmm, Charlie seemed to like it, so I thought I'd make some for everyone.” Alastor confirmed, taking a seat to sip from his own mug.
Angel-Dust sniffed at the cup curiously, before taking another slow sip and tilting his head slightly. “New Orleans?"
Blinking in surprise, Alastor grinned around the rim of his mug. “How perceptive of you. You certainly know your coffee.” It was kind of impressive that he was able to tell, presumably from the taste of the chicory root.
“Bean juice is bean juice, and there ain't just coffee beans in this cup.” Angel seemed to perk up a little at the easy conversation and caffeine, happily drinking the coffee and seeming proud of himself for guessing correctly. “How'd ya got hold of something like this anyhow? You got some secret smuggling ring or somethin’.”
“Or something.” Alastor smirked, not about to explain how his abilities worked. If anything, it probably added to the whole mysterious backstory behind how he managed to stay hidden for so long. “You visited Louisiana then?”
Based purely on Angel's accent, which was clearly over-emphasised, Alastor would guess the sinner was probably Italian-American? Probably hailing from somewhere near New York or Brooklyn if he had to guess. He must have been well travelled to recognise such a specific taste.
“Pffft, my old man used to drag me on protection rackets all around America. I probably drank coffee in every northeast and Southern state.”
“Ah. You were in the Mafia then.” Alastor acknowledged, mentally adding that to his internal notes about the sinner. That certainly added to the reasons about how and why Angel had ended up in Hell when he died.
“Don't sound too surprised, Smiles.” The spider laughed, clearly expecting a bigger reaction than the one he got.
“Given I spent more than my fair time in speakeasies, I was once very acquainted with the local mafia. One of my friends was likely the victim of one of your protection rackets.” Alastor said, his expression not giving away how he felt about that little fact.
“Oh shit.” Angel's eyes widened suddenly, and his easy confidence faulted. There was a flicker of fear before he managed to mask it with forced casualness again. “Heh, no hard feelings though, right? It was my old man doing that shit, I just got dragged along.”
“Hmmmm. I suppose after all this time I can let it slide.” Alastor hummed, keeping up his demonic persona, but having no intention of actually having Angel-Dust be scared of him. “Mimzy always did have a reckless streak. I'm sure your family were far from the only ones to try and shake her down.”
“Mimzy? Ya mean that chick who owns the Jazz club in the vice district?”
“Is that so?” Alastor couldn't help the way his eyes lit up at that bit of information. Had he been fishing for information? Maybe. But having it pay off so quickly was a nice surprise. And now he knew the location of an old friend he hadn't been able to see or hear from in an actual century!
“Pffft, where ya been hiding all these years? Her club’s one o’ the biggest in the city that ain't owned by Val.”
Before Alastor could tell a lie to cover why he wasn't aware about apparently obvious things, Charlie entered the kitchen with a bright and cheery “Goooood morning!” Distracting the two from their conversation.
“Ah, Charlie my dear! Come, take a seat.” Alastor gestured to the table in front of them, and with a click of his fingers fresh steam rose from the food as they were reheated from where they had cooled off while he and Angel talked. “The biscuits are filled with venison, and the Pain Perdu is sweet rum.”
Vaggie followed behind Charlie and cast a suspicious eye over the food and coffee pot, before sitting down with a sigh. That was probably as close to a compliment or acceptance that he was going to get from her. Unlike Angel-Dust, the girls had both gotten dressed before coming downstairs.
“A bit of a change in the schedule today I'm afraid, ladies.” Alastor continued, pouring them both a mug of coffee and leaning against one of the counters. “Our spider friend here has unexpectedly been called into work.”
Charlie turned to Angel with a look of concern, but only received a casual shrug in response. After a second the pornstar laughed, “Those are the breaks toots. Everybody wants to get their hands on me. Reshoots are a bitch, but hey, that's showbiz!”
Alastor noticed the change immediately, the casual air Angel had been giving off changed almost imperceptibly. The spider's voice became ever so slightly more accented, and Alastor couldn't help but wonder what his natural voice actually sounded like. He could easily recognise a fellow performer slipping into a PR accent. Distantly he wondered if Angel-Dust could tell how much Alastor's own accent was an act as well.
“Looks like it's just going to be the three of us for the rest of today.” Alastor smiled at the girls. It would probably be a day of planning things, and rescheduling the plans they had for today. Charlie had been planning on some kind of role-play scenario today, hoping that Angel-Dust’s acting career might make him more likely to understand how to behave, if he embodied the role of an upstanding citizen.
“Where's Niffty?” Vaggie asked suspiciously, suddenly seeming to notice the lack of the manic little maid.
“When I saw her this morning, she said she wanted to make a start on some of the upper floors.” Alastor explained, having been surprised that Niffty had apparently been awake long before him, since she was already hard at work. She seemed to genuinely be enjoying her time cleaning. “I’ve put some breakfast aside for when she feels like eating.”
“Sooo. What have you two been talking about?” Charlie asked, not even trying to hide how excited she was that Alastor and Angel-Dust seemed to be having a nice conversation by themselves. She probably imagined the two of them having some grand bonding session, rather than just talking over breakfast.
“Oh, nothing much. Just reminiscing about our time on earth.” Alastor grinned back at Angel, who just rolled his eyes and finished the last of his breakfast. “I doubt we would have ran in the same circles, but we did have certain things in common.”
“Oh.” Charlie blinked in surprise, glancing between the two men, clearly trying to work out how much a sinner and winner could have had in common while they were alive.
“Well. I gotta get ready.” Angel said with a perky voice that was so unconvincing that Alastor doubted it was fooling anyone in the room. Then he plumped up his chest fluff and winked obnoxiously at the radio host. “Don't wait up for me now, baby. Got a long, and hard, day ahead a me.”
Alastor's eye twitched slightly, but he gave a polite laugh at the shameless flirting, while he watched Angel get up and leave the kitchen. He just hoped that kind of thing didn’t become too much of a habit with the spider-sinner.
“Were you two flirting all morning?” Vaggie asked, sounding both confused and accusatory.
“Heaven no. I think he just talks like that with everyone.” Alastor waved off, but the look shared between Charlie and Vaggie begged to differ. Well, he supposed a gay man was hardly going to flirt with the girls, so maybe they couldn't see it.
The rest of breakfast went by with idle chatter. Vaggie clearly still didn’t trust him, but she wasn't ignoring or antagonising him either, which was an improvement over when he first arrived. Maybe Charlie had spoken to her about trying to be nicer? Alastor didn't hold it against Vaggie either way. After hearing her story last night, he could understand why Vaggie had trust issues and felt so defensive all the time.
They discussed how their plans were going to have to change without Angel-Dust at the hotel for most of the day, and it was finally decided for them to work on Charlie's script for her little play she wanted Angel to perform. The princess was also pretty keen on some trust building exercises, which Alastor suggested all of them participate in. The suggestion was mostly because Alastor figured that Vaggie also needed to learn to trust people, but he didn't want to outright say that and upset or anger the shorter woman.
Once breakfast was finished, Charlie offered to clean up, so Alastor took his mug of coffee upstairs with him. He decided to review some of Charlie's notes and suggestions on the balcony.
Hell's air wasn't exactly clean and fresh like heavens, but it was pleasant enough in the late morning. The air was every so slightly similar to the bayou in the height of the season; humid, and thick in a way that couldn't fully be described. Though hell also carried its own markers; The stink of sulfur, the faint sense of decay and rot, and the overwhelming feeling of vice and desperation.
Alastor leaned against the railings after placing his things on a table, the balcony offered a very nice view of the entirety of pentagram city. Which was part the reason he'd chosen to be here right now. He mentally mapped out the districts from the annotated map Charlie had given him when he first arrived, his eyes immediately sweeping over the city to look for a specific area. The vice district… The neons of the entertainment district were so bright and eye-catching that it was easy to spot, all bright pinks and blues. It gave him a wonderful landmark to orient his mental map. Next to it, bleeding more red and gold, was the vice district.
From here he could make out a large building with a cat motif, possibly a casino? At least, he was pretty sure he could see neon poker chips from here. Everything else was so far away and bright that it was hard to make out details. Mimzy had made a name for herself down here, and she was somewhere there, with a jazz club and more morally bad and dubious people than she would have known what to do with while she was alive.
Alastor couldn't help the ache in his chest at the thought of reuniting with her. He didn't have many people he considered a friend while he was alive, she had been a rare exception. She must have changed over the century in Hell. Would he still recognise her as the fun loving flapper girl he used to go drinking and dancing with? He always knew she ended up down here, but it felt different to have a confirmation, and a location for where to find her.
He was different too. During prohibition he had been a free spirited young man, much less cautious. They got into a lot of trouble, and somehow he'd always managed to find his way back out of it. She'd only seen that side of him. Would she recognise him anymore? If his life had turned out differently, he could easily have ended up down here with her. He still didn't understand how or why he had made it to heaven, given what he'd done.
With a sigh, he decided that bittersweet nostalgia was not the best way to start off his day. It probably wasn't a wise idea to track Mimzy down anyway, and it would only distract him from the hotel and what he was actually trying to do here. He turned away from the railings and back to the table with his coffee and folder of ideas from Charlie.
He was busy annotating Charlie's script, making notes about things he thought needed to be changed. He tended to become hyper-focused when he worked, to the point of not noticing what was going on around him, a trait that had gotten him into many awkward situations over the years. Which is why he didn't notice anything amiss, until a shadow fell across the papers.
Becoming aware of his surroundings again, there was a low humming sound getting louder by the second. He looked up to see that the source of the noise was a dark blimp quickly approaching the hotel. What was happening? He just stared in confused fascination as it approached, slowing down enough to obviously not be planning to crash into the hotel.
In the blink of an eye, something extended from the front of the blimp. There was a flash of light. The sound of one of the walls downstairs exploding. Charlie screamed.
Alastor froze, staring at what he was now realising was an assault on the hotel.