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It was raining. Of course it was. As if this day couldn't get any worse. How was it even raining in hell? Wasn't it supposed to be a burning hot pit of sins or some shit? Husk grumbled a string of cursed under his breath as his cigarette refused to light. Right as a small wisp of smoke began to curl upwards, a particularly large raindrop splattered down on the cigarette, extinguishing the flame, and with it, it seemed, literally all of Husk's hopes and dreams.
Today's overlord meeting was particularly frustrating. Overlords were dropping like stones and nobody knew what was going on. Well, honestly, that wasn't quite new. It had been like that for a couple years at this point. However more seeming to vanish each day. It was fucking weird. Zestial was livid, which was quite uncommon. He usually aimed for a much calmer demeanor. Husk didn't really blame him though. The thought of having a an individual that could make top tier overlords disappear like that (and scream like that. Those radio broadcasts...) sitting amongst them wasn't particularly comforting. Debates had been going around for a while, sinners tossing in their opinions on who they thought the mysterious "Radio Demon" was. Husk had his pick alright. He would have bet a winning hand of cards on the creepy red one. The fuck was his name again? Alastor. Right. Husk remembered he'd been put off by the guy the day he walked into his first overlord meeting, all smiles and teeth. The way he walked and talked like he was several stations above all of the others in the room. Husk decided right then and there that he would not associate with him. Most of the overlords were snobs already, but there was something about Alastor that just screamed danger.
But the overlord meeting wasn't helping Husk's shitty mood. His only true friend had vanished. Although Niffty hadn't deemed to be murdered like the others. She'd been declared missing by one of the souls that reported back to Zestial. He'd glared particularly hard at Alastor then. He knew it probably wasn't actually him vanquishing overlords, but directing his anger at the deer bitch made the fact that his best friend was the missing hurt less.
"Fuck it," Husk said exhaustedly, throwing his sodden cigarette to the ground. It wasn't going to help anyway. "I need a drink," he muttered to himself, marching determinedly through the downpour towards his casino. A quick round of poker, a shot of vodka or six. Just enough to fog his mind a little. That sounded nice. Husks spirits lifted a bit. He knew he'd win any game he played, he was the lord of gambling after all, but it sure as hell would feel good to have a win right about now.
Drunken laughter and the smell of alcohol wafted out of the entrance to the Magic Kat Casino, promising Husk the perfect elements to drop his worries. For now at least. Husk padded through the door, his eyes adjusting quickly to the warm light inside. As he made his way to the bar, he waved to several patrons.
It was no secret that Husk loved living like this. Not the getting drunk on a Tuesday night, but being the one who oversaw something that so many people reveled in. Sure, he loved placing a bet or two, and drinking himself sick, but there were other reasons, deeper down. Small little things he would never admit. He knew how important it was to have a place to go to cheer you up when you're feeling down. Hell, that's why he himself was here. He liked being able to provide that for people. He liked to do something that made others happy. And hey, the power and status that came with being an Overlord wasn't too bad either. Kinda cool, honestly (other than the missing people and screaming matches, that is). Overlords aren't supposed the be like he was deep down, Husk figured, but honestly he didn't give two shits.
Husk took a stool at the bar, watching the barkeep pour his drink, as always. The staff pretty much always knew his order, what drink he needed based on what kind of day he was having. Something he made sure didn't go unappreciated. Also unusual for an Overlord. But just because Husk was in hell didn't mean he had to be a complete jackass to everyone who breathed looking at you Vox.
But tonight Husk wasn't really focused on the others in the casinos. He needed to burn the screams and yells of the other Overlords out of his memory, at least until the booze wore off. He swirled his drink lazily, watching the ice cubes bounce off of each other, trapped in an endless cycle. Much like his own life. "Fuck me," Husk grumbled.
Just then, his ears picked up the open and close of the main door, deliberately quiet and unassuming. Husk glanced at the bartender, who has paused, eyes fixated ahead of him. Husk turned, eager to see who had just walked into his casino- and promptly choked on his drink.
The man waltzing quite confidently towards Husk was none other than the creepy red smiley bitch, Alastor.
"Well ain't that great," Husk muttered to himself. "Just what I needed. Lucky me." Wasn't he supposed to have good luck, being the Overlord of gambling and all? Because it didn't exactly seem like it in the moment. Today had been quite the losing hand.
Husk busied himself in his drink as Alastor slid up beside him.
"Ah dear Husk. It's no wonder I should find you here, considering your distress. Such a shame, poor Niffty, such a shame," the deer man drawled, calculating cold, and a bit bemused.
"The fuck do you want," snarled Husk, taking a long gulp of his drink. "And don't try me with any of that sympathy bullshit. I know damn well that you ain't here to pat my back."
"My, my, so quick to aggression. I thought you were above such things," Alastor said tauntingly.
"Cut to it," Husk snapped. "I ain't got the time. Some of us have purposes." That hit a nerve in the smiling man. Husk watched as Alastor's ears twitched slightly, eyes faintly narrowing.
"I would watch your step if I were you," Alastor warned, voice tight.
Husk scoffed at him. "What are you gonna do? I sit higher than you by a long shot. It's a wonder you're even an Overlord at all, considering how close you are to the bottom. I mean, who's beneath you at this point? Vox? That ain't shit."
Husk swore he could hear Alastor's teeth grinding. Good. Maybe he'd leave. Or not, if his instincts were right about Alastor.
"I'm well aware of my rank amongst the other Overlords," Alastor spat out. "But I believe I also have some information regarding your particular status at the moment. Losing hold on what you have, no? Considering your lack of assertion at the meeting, and minimal action regarding the little Niffty, I'd say-"
"Don't you finish that fucking sentence," Husk growled, slamming a hand on the bar top. "I ain't playing your bullshit games, Alastor. Now get your ass outta my casino."
Alastor's smile widened (how the fuck was that even possible?) and he leaned close to Husk, who tensed. "In due time, we will each get what has been decided for us. Just wait."
Alastor brushed his coat off smugly. "Have an excellent night my good man!" he called mockingly before confidently striding out, like he had never been there.
Husk dropped his head into his hands. That was bad. If Alastor had started suspecting his slip in power, then how long until the others knew? Hell, some might already know. Husk didn't need information getting out that he was vulnerable, especially considering the recent events.
Husk needed a serious solution, and fast.
But what?