Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When God had called the assembly, you'd felt a deep, purposeful sensation in your soul.

It was similar to the sensation you'd felt when you first entered Heaven, only a short time ago, and were met with His full presence for the first time. It had your heart racing and, had you still been alive, you might have mistaken it for dread, as you'd always been very anxious in life. However, this was Heaven, and therefore there could be no dread. No, what you felt had to have been excitement.

Now, this wasn't the first time you'd attended an assembly since you'd arrived; God held several assemblies daily (at least, you thought it was daily; to be honest, the passage of time was nearly impossible to follow here in Heaven). This one just felt like a particularly important assembly, though you couldn't explain just how you knew. The feeling had you twitching, and as you took your place among the other angels, you couldn't shake the feeling that a Plan was about to be launched.

The sensation came back stronger when it was announced that the Princess of Hell was starting a project to rehabilitate sinners.

//What a wonderful idea!//  You were nearly inexplicably happy to hear the news. It was the first you'd heard that Hell had a princess; or anything about Hell, really. Still, you were a sucker for redemption stories, and you had to admit that giving folks a second chance was absolutely God's style. You immediately wanted to know more about this "Happy Hotel" and why the citizens of Heaven were being informed of it. 

You had an idea (a Hope) of what the answer might be though. You leaned forward attentively in anticipation.

"I have decided to send one of our own to assist her in her efforts," God announced, and the sensation returned, stronger than ever.

The crowd around you burst into chatter while the sensation burned inside your chest. As the angels around you deliberated, the feeling became overwhelming until you knew exactly what it was—

"I'll go!" You called.

There was a split second of silence before pandemonium broke out amongst the other angels. It quickly became quite clear that the vast majority of them were against the idea. You were too young, and a mortal soul on top of that. The job should be given to an exterminator who could defend themselves from the hostile demons living in Hell. Surely a mortal soul like you would either be ripped apart, or become tainted and lost to the corrupt realm.

Several of the older archangels, however, simply sat in silence, looking resigned. No one else was stepping forward.

"Quiet!" God held up a hand to silence the bickering, "The exterminators do not know how to be gentle with a demon. One could not possibly approach a sinner with the mercy necessary to get the job done." With a knowing smile, he turned to you.

 "I believe that a mortal soul who both knows the hardships of the living world and has seen Grace is precisely what miss Magne needs."

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Chapter Text

The hotel is nowhere near ready to be opened.

This is something you realize the moment you set foot inside the building, following after Charlie.  It's dark, and the place is a mess.  Furniture and portraits are strewn about everywhere, and the place is littered with dust and cobwebs.  Even so, it appears Charlie had been planning on opening fairly soon, if the haphazard 'welcome' banner and party decorations hanging above the front desk are any indication.

The décor and overall atmosphere of the Happy Hotel is a bit Hellish for an establishment with the goal of getting souls to heaven.  Eyes, bones, and skulls are carved into just about every piece of furniture and picture frame you see, and you feel unsettled by them.  Particularly the eyes.  

While Angel rummages through a hazardously tilted freezer that you aren't certain is plugged in, you stop to look at a portrait hanging on one of the walls.  

It depicts a small gathering of seven demons.  You almost immediately recognize Charlie, smiling happily in a dress with a red skirt.  There are two taller blonde demons in the picture, one on either side of her, and you note that they must be her parents.  With some surprise you realize that that means that the goofy clownish demon in a white suit to the far left of the portrait is Lucifer.  

//He looks so silly!// you think, in disbelief.  You tilt your head.  This rosy-cheeked demon in a top-hat is the ruler of Hell?  Charlie looks just like him!  //Appearances really are deceiving...//

Charlie's mother, on the other hand, looks regal and mysterious.  With grey-violet skin and sliver eyes under heavy lashes, she stands taller than all of the other demons in the picture.  Her blonde hair is long and flowing, and she wears a tight-fitting red dress.  

Your eyes stop over the right half of the portrait.  There's a group of four grey-skinned demons with creepy, glowing green eyes (and teeth?!) and weird tentacle-hair.  All four wear wide, sinister grins.

You're just wracking your brain for who these demons could possibly be when your arm is grabbed from behind and you're spun around to face a deadly serious-looking Vaggie.

"We need to talk."

The moth demon pulls you away from the portrait and drags you into a hall off of the lobby.  Charlie pops in a second later.

"You," Vaggie points an accusatory finger in your face, "explain."

You raise your hands in a pacifying gesture.  "Right, okay;"

"So basically," you begin, turning your head to face Charlie, "um, God noticed what you're trying to do here... and he approves?" you give the two demonesses a double thumbs-up and an awkward smile.

"What?" Vaggie narrows her eye skeptically.

"Huh?" Charlie chimes hopefully, stars in her eyes, "really?"

You nod, "Yeah, and he figured you could use some help, so he sent me."  You look from one girl to the other, "To help."

Vaggie still looks unconvinced.  "Charlie," she says, turning to address the princess, "we can't just let them stay just because they say they're here to help; the only angels that have ever been in Hell are fallen angels and exterminators.  They're dangerous."

"I know that," Charlie replies, "but look at them, Vaggie!  They're clearly still in God's good graces if they still have their halo, and this year's extermination is over.  Why would they leave only one exterminator in Hell, disguised as a demon, if they were planning to extend it?  That wouldn't make sense!"  

Vaggie sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I... I know, but—still!  What are the actual chances of an angel—a pure angel—being sent down here, to Hell, to help us?"

"Quite high, actually," you cut in.  Vaggie turns her head to look at you, and you smile gently, "God invented redemption.  Of course he'd want to help redeem sinners, that's kind of his thing."

Vaggie frowns.  "Why... why do you want to help so badly?" she asks, still a bit defensive.

A weight forms in your chest.  "Honestly?" you answer, shifting your weight and resting a loosely curled hand over your chest, "Because it's something I was never able to do when I was alive."  You send the two demonesses a sad smile.  "I knew the world was broken, and that the people were, too, and I wanted to do something about it, but..." you turn your face to the side and frown, "I was held back by so many of my own fears and weaknesses, that I never did much of anything for the people that I knew needed help."  You sigh and look down at the floorboards, "I was good with animals, yes, but when it came to dealing with people directly, I was just useless."

When you look back up, Vaggie's shoulders are slumped, and her frown has softened.  Charlie is also frowning.

You cross your arms.  "When I died, I went to heaven.  But the peace I had... I felt like I didn't deserve it.  Like I didn't do enough."

"And now you have the chance to make a difference," Charlie finishes for you.

"Yeah," you smile, "I can finally do something to help the people who are really hurting.  One of the worst things that could possibly happen 's already happened, and I'm okay."

"See, Vaggie?" Charlie places a gentle hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, "Everything's gonna be okay!"

Vaggie worries her lip with claw-like fingers.  "Diablos," she finally says, massaging her temples in frustration.  She mutters some more under her breath before looking back to you.  "Fine," she grumbled, "whatever, but if—"

She's interrupted by a loud, rhythmic knocking at the front door.

—SHAVE-AND-A-HAIR—CUT.  TWO—BITS.—

The three of you peek back out into the lobby towards the large double-doors.  Hesitantly, Charlie steps out and makes her way over to the source of the knocking.  You make to follow, but are pulled back by Vaggie, who sits you down on one of the demonic sofas.  She starts speaking to you, but you're too distracted by your curiosity and the sense of an overwhelming presence that has started to seep into the room to quite catch what she's saying to you.  

It's an odd sensation, like a faint white noise hanging in the air.  It reminds you a bit of when you had sensory overloads and panic attacks when you were alive, only it isn't suffocating like those episodes, merely present.  You take a deep breath, and faintly taste iron on the air.  The sensation curls around you like a red haze before suddenly becoming muted.

Vaggie has stopped speaking, and is looking at you expectantly.

"I'm sorry, but could you repeat that?" you ask, embarrassed.

She tenses, and she curls her fingers like talons, "You—!"

"Umm, Vaggie?" Charlie calls, standing with her back against the doors, arms spread out comically.

The moth demon sighs, "What?" she asks, turning her head in her direction and putting her hands on her hips.  You lean forward and crane your neck to look, too.

"The, uh, Radio Demon... is at the door!" Charlie says, pulling the corners of her mouth into a forced smile with her fingers.

Vaggie tenses further, back shooting ramrod straight, "WHAT?!"

"'Radio Demon'?" you mumble, head tilting and brows creasing in thought.  //Another interviewer, perhaps?  Isn't it a bit soon, though?//

"Who?" you hear Angel ask from somewhere behind you.

"What do I do?!" there's desperation in Charlie's voice.  The poor princess has already dealt with enough stress today.

You stand up and make for the door yourself.  //Pretty rude to be adding to someone's embarrassment for publicity...  I know they're demons and this is Hell, but this is ridiculous!//

"Hey!  What are you doing?!" Vaggie shouts after you, "Don't let him in!"

Charlie scrambles after you while you try to make out the figure outside the door through the stained-glass window.  All you can see is a very tall, fuzzy silhouette standing on the front steps.  You crack the door open and peek out.

You're met with the sight of a very tall, very thin, very red demon wearing a wide, almost painful-looking smile full of razor-sharp teeth.  His eyes are red, his clothes are red, his hair is red with black tips, and even the monocle he wears over his right eye has a red-tinted lens.  He carries a staff with a microphone at its top, and atop his head are two furry red and black-tufted ears between which are situated two dinky, but very sharp black antlers.

His yellow grin widens upon seeing you, and with a radio static-laced voice he gives a very cheery "Hello!"

"Hi," you return the greeting with a small smile of your own, before Charlie reaches over you and slams the door shut.

She waves you back a few steps and takes a deep breath, combing a hand through her hair.  She then puts on a serious expression and opens the door herself.

The deer demon still stands there, smiling patiently with an index finger raised in the air.

"May I speak now?" he asks.

"You may," Charlie answers, lifting her nose.

Immediately, the red demon lunges forward, grabbing the princess's hand and pulling her closer as he shakes it.  "Alastor!" He introduces, though between the static in his voice and the speed with which he speaks, you're barely able to understand what he's said.  "Pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart!  Quite a pleasure!"

He pushes past Charlie and yourself, letting himself inside.  "And you as well!" he says, shaking your hand, "Who might you be, darlin' little fellow?"

Startled, you introduce yourself rather awkwardly.  He laughs in response before returning his attention to Charlie.

"Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on the picture show," he splays out his hands palm-outward near his face for emphasis, "and I just couldn't resist!"  He begins to wave his arms excitedly above his head, "What a performance!" he praises, and you hear a recording of a cheering background audience play behind his voice.

You blink.  This man is moving and speaking almost too quickly for you to process properly. You shake your head in an attempt to clear it.  //This guy sure is cheerful,// you think.  He's pretty amusing, //but also...//

Alastor places a clawed hand on his face.  "Why, I haven't been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929!  Ah ha ha!"

...  There is something seriously off about this man.  You frown as he laughs at his own joke, a laugh track playing in the background.  You don't find anything particularly funny about orphans.  You open your mouth and debate on saying something or simply following him, but you're quickly startled out of your thoughts.

The demon in question had hardly taken another step when he was met with a harpoon to the throat, held threateningly by Vaggie.

"Stop right there!" She shouts as she jabs at him with the weapon.  You jump back and stare, wide-eyed, at the confrontation.  Vaggie radiates hostility.

"Cabrón hijo de perra!" she snarls through clenched teeth, eye narrowed dangerously.  She steadies her weapon.  "I know your game!" she says, straightening her stance, "And I won't let you hurt anyone here, you pompous, cheesy talkshow shitlord!"  She punctuates the statement with another jab of her harpoon beneath his chin.  You nervously raise a hand to your own throat as you watch, hoping things won't escalate any further.

Alastor, to his credit, seems completely unruffled, and, when he responds, even sounds amused.

"My dear," he begins gently, pushing the spearhead away from his face with an index finger, "if I wanted to hurt anyone here—"  The sensation of white noise comes back, the air around the red demon thickens, and his shadow stretches out and moves across the floor as though he were standing beneath a rapidly setting sun.  "—I would have done so already."  He tilts his head downward at a painful-looking angle as he finishes.  For a split second, his nubby antlers appear to grow out into a full, sharp-tipped rack.  

You blink once, and it's gone.  Vaggie and Charlie, who had moved to Vaggie's side without your noticing, stare, aghast, up at his face, which you can't see.  You take a few tentative steps forward, wondering if you ought to intervene. 

"No!" Alastor shouts jovially as he straightens, mouth stretched into a wide, friendly grin.  "I'm here because I want to help!" he announces.

"Really?  Me, too!" you says, rolling forward onto your toes beside him.

He spares you a glance out of the corner of his eye without moving his head, and his smile shifts almost imperceptibly.  He says nothing to you, though, and his attention never quite leaves the two frozen demonesses before him.

Vaggie, alarmed by your proximity to the frightening demon, pulls you away from his side and, deciding that you knew too little about your current surroundings for your own good, pushes you a step back once you're beside her.  Mildly offended, you inch forward a bit, but still respect the distance placed between you and Alastor.

Charlie is pulled out of a stupor. "Er... you what now?" she asks.  

You open your mouth to gently repeat what he's said, but are interrupted before you've made a sound by the red demon himself.

"Help!" he lets out a boisterous laugh and raises his staff.  "Hello?  Is this thing on?" he asks, tapping the mic situated at its top playfully, "Testing, testing!"

You would have been put off by the rude display if not for the fact that you're immediately distracted by the microphone responding with its own voice: "Well I heard you loud and clear!"

"It talks?!" you exclaim, pushing past Vaggie and leaning out to look at the microphone more closely, looking into the object's red eye in awe.  Alastor chuckles and pats you on the head.

"It does, indeed, dear!"

"How? Is it alive?"

Alastor grins down at you, "My! Aren't you a curious one! You haven't been in Hell long, have you?"

You're about to reply when Vaggie grabs your shoulder again, "Don't answer that question," she tells you. You look between her and the Radio Demon before stepping back, deciding to do as she says.

As you settle back down, Charlie speaks up, "Um, you want to help?" she says to Alastor, "with what?"

At this, the deer demon melts into a shadow on the floor before popping back up behind the three of you. "This ridiculous thing you're trying to do! This hotel. I want to help you run it."

You blink at his method of travel and ponder it for a moment; it reminds you of the Pokémon move, Shadow Sneak. Is this a unique trait of his, or can other demons do it, too?

Charlie tilts her head in confusion, "Okay... but why?" she asks.

Alastor's smile turns mischievous, "Why does anyone do anything?" he asks, leaning in closer to her, "Sheer, absolute boredom!"

You raise an eyebrow while Vaggie continues to glare at him.  //Boredom?//  Well, you suppose it's better than nothing.

Alastor drags his hands down his face as though in frustration, "Ah... I've lacked inspiration for decades.  My work became mundane, lacking focus, aimless!" he shoves Vaggie aside, knocking her into you.

While you help her steady herself, Alastor continues; "I've come to crave a new form of entertainment!" 

Charlie looks a bit embarrassed as she responds, "Does, uh, getting into a fistfight with a reporter count as entertainment?"

Alastor laughz, and you feel the aura of his sins shift as he answers.  "It's the purest kind, my dear: Reality!" he gestures passionately, "True passion!"  His voice grows darker as he speaks, "After all, the world is a stage, and the stage is a world of entertainment."  You can feel the darkness wafting off of him; a disturbing aura that threatens to choke everyone else in the room.  You can see that you're looking at a very damaged soul.

You shake the sensation off.  Charlie looks hopeful as she takes a few tentative steps toward the red demon, "So... does that mean you think it's possible to rehabilitate a demon?" she asks.

Though the question isn't directed at you, you can't help but smile and nod; you certainly believe it is.  You're certain of it.

Still, Alastor's answer is disappointing.  "No, no!  Of course not! That's wacky nonsense!" he says, shaking his hand at her.

You share a glance with Charlie, shrugging your shoulders as he continues:

"Redemption!  Oh, the non-existent humanity!" he shakes his head in an exaggerated fashion.  As negative as his words are, and as much as you disagree with him, you can't help but feel a building excitement the more he speaks.  Wheels turn in your head as Vaggie leads you to sit on one of the couches with herself and Angel Dust while Alastor asserts that the sinners here can not be saved.  You cup your chin thoughtfully as you listen to his conversation with Charlie.

"So why do you wanna help me if you don't believe in my cause?"

"Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself!" Alastor answers, twirling her around.  "I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure!"

As they continue talking, you're distracted from their conversation when Angel speaks up; "So, what's the deal with smiles over there?" he asks Vaggie.

"Yeah," you add, "and why did you and Charlie call him the Radio Demon?" you pause, "Y'know, besides the, uh, voice thing?" you say, gesturing to your throat with your hand.

"Wait," Vaggie says, she points to you, "You, I understand, you just got here, but how have you never heard of him before?" she asks Angel, "You've been here longer than me!"

Angel shrugs.

"The Radio Demon," Vaggie tries, "One of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen?"

"Eh, I'm not big on politics," is Angel's response.

"So who is he?" you ask, shifting in your seat in curiosity.

Vaggie sighs, then tells you: several decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell, and very quickly took to overthrowing a great number of centuries-dominant overlords.  He absolutely slaughtered them, all while broadcasting the deeds live on the radio all over Hell, which is why he's called the "Radio Demon".

"Many have speculated what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world's most ancient and destructive evils," Vaggie finishes, "But one thing's for sure: He's an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we can't risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased!"

"Ya done?" asks Angel, while you glance thoughtfully at the demon in question.  He laughs, "He looks like a strawberry pimp!"

"Nah, I believe it," you say, leaning into the back of the couch.  Angel sends you a questioning glance.  "I mean, I don't really know, but it looks to me like he's probably an elk," you explain, "and a mature male with a rack like his?  Super dangerous.  Those antlers aren't just for show, plenty of folks get killed by 'em.  Killed me."

Both of the demons give you an odd look, and you realize you just explained your understanding of the situation in terms of the abilities of actual animals.

"Are you okay?" asks Vaggie, concerned, "I can tell Charlie, and we can try to get him to leave."

"Um, that's not..." you begin, but she's already stood up and gone to tug on Charlie's arm to pull her away from her conversation with Alastor, "... necessary..."

You get up and follow her.

"... He's a deal maker!  Pure evil!" you hear Vaggie say as you join the conversation.

"... I don't know about that," you cut in, frowning.

Vaggie shoots you a look, "He's most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we're working for," she argued.

//Well, let him try!// you think.  //It won't work!  Not when God is on our side!//

"You have me to prevent that," you tell her, then grin, finally voicing the idea that has been building in your mind, "Just think!" you whisper excitedly, leaning closer into your huddle, "If we redeemed him, with a soul as corrupted and damaged as his, no one would be able to deny that rehabilitation works!"

"What?" Vaggie gasps, "redeem him?  That's not possible!"  You raise an eyebrow at her.

"I... we don't know that," says Charlie.  Vaggie gives her an incredulous look.  "Look, I know he's bad, and I know he probably doesn't want to change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance!  To have faith that things will be better!"

You nod, "No mortal soul is beyond redemption," you say.

"How can I turn someone away?" Charlie asks, "I can't!  It goes against everything I'm trying to do, everything I believe in."  She puts her hands on Vaggie's shoulders while you smile in approval, "Just... trust me, Vaggie.  I can take care of myself!"

You nod, "And even if something were to go wrong, I'm confident that God has given us the resources necessary to pull through!" you say.

Vaggie sighs in resignation, "Fine, just, Charlie, whatever you do, do not make a deal with him," she warns, watching as Alastor stands casually a distance away.

Charlie smiles, "Don't worry, I picked up one thing from my dad;" she turnes and approaches Alastor, imitating her father as she goes, "'You don't take shit from other demons!'"

You watch as she lists some conditions to the powerful demon, who twirls his staff into his left hand as he offers her his right:

"So it's a deal, then?" he says.  The room becomes bathed in a ghostly green light and something like a strong wind emanates from Alastor.  You remain mostly unaffected by this, but you notice that everyone else aside from Alastor has to steel themselves to remain on their feet.

"Nope!" Charlie says, waving his hand away, "No deals!"  She taps her finger on her lip  and hums in thought, "Um, here: As princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I, uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel...!" she pauses, "for as long as you desire."

Alastor gives his own hum, "Fair enough!" he says, dismissing his staff.

Charlie smiles nervously, clearly relieved.  "Cool beans."

You pop over to Alastor's side with a welcoming smile, and he returns it with a widening of his own unwavering one, before he turns to speak to Charlie again.

"So, where is your hotel staff?" he asks her.

When Charlie sheepishly gestures to Vaggie, he adjusts his monocle in amusement.

"Ohoho, You're going to need more than that!" he tells her.  He walks over to you, "So, you're helping with this establishment, are you?" he asks you.

You nod, "Yep!  I have a bit of knowledge of how the rehabilitation process works, and I thought this was a really good cause, so I volunteered to help right away!"

Alastor hums in thought.  "Really?  Now, isn't that something!" he says.  You can't help but feel he isn't taking you seriously...

Still, you keep your smile on your face as you speak to him.  "I'm here to help conceptualize and coordinate activities and therapy sessions that will help encourage positive behavioral changes!"

The deer demon blinks, then nods.  "I see.  It will be a pleasure working with you, I'm sure."

He moves on to talk to Angel, who's sitting in a chair in front of the check-in desk.  "And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?" he asks him.

"I can suck ya' dick," Angel answers with a grin.

You blanche at his response.  You're ace, and pretty sex-repulsed, and based on his reaction, it seems to you as though Alastor is, too.  He manages to look absolutely appalled while still grinning from ear-to-ear, and a screech of microphone feedback emanates from him.  

Impressively, he recovers quite quickly.

"HAH!" he laughs, before leaning in close to the promiscuous spider demon's face, "No."  With that, he turns away.

Angel watches him leave with an amused expression.  "Your loss," he calls after the deer demon.

You grimace, still reeling from secondhand shock and horror.  "Why?" you whisper to yourself.  Angel Dust hears you and snickers.  You rub your arm in discomfort and quickly turn your face away from him.

"Well, this just won't do!" Alastor proclaims, summoning his staff again.  He approaches the hotel's dusty, run-down fireplace.  "Just two staff members aren't nearly enough to get this hotel off the ground!  I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up!"  With a snap of his fingers, the fireplace becomes like new again, and is simultaneously lit with a roaring fire.  A small, charred-black figure falls down from the chimney into the flames, hanging out of the mouth of the fireplace.

You gasp and take a step forward, but Alastor waves you away.  He leans down and picks the small figure up, holding them up for you and the others to see.  The figure opens a single, large, flame-colored eye and blinks up at the group.

After a moment, the ash falls away from the figure with a poof, revealing a very small and cute cyclops demoness in a poodle skirt.

"This little darling is Niffty!" Alastor introduces, before letting her drop to the floor.

The little demoness quickly bounces to her feet.  "Hi! I'm Niffty!" she greets, waving to the four of you.

You lean down and wave back, "Hello, Niffty!"

She grins, "It's nice to meet you!" she says.  Then, she gets a crazed look in her eye, "It's been a while since I've made new friends!"  You hardly have time to be concerned about her expression before she speaks again; "Why are you all women?" she asks, confused.

You tilt your head, "We're not—"

"Are there any men here?!" Niffty zooms past you and lifts Charlie into the air, causing you to jump and immediately putting Vaggie on guard.

"I, um..." you share a look with Angel, who shrugs.

Almost as quickly as she picked her up, Niffty sets Charlie back down, "I'm sorry, that was rude..." she says sheepishly, before her attention is pulled elsewhere; "Oooh, man, this place is a mess!"  She immediately sets to cleaning the hotel lobby, flitting about with incredible speed.  "It really needs a lady's touch!" she pauses, turning to address the four of you, "which is weird because you're all ladies... I think? ...no offense."  She turns back to her work, pulling out a feather duster, "Oh my gosh, this is awful!"  

"Wow... she's really good," you breathe, watching as Niffty is already putting a huge dent in the work that would be necessary in order to prepare the hotel for business.  Alastor chuckles and nods.

As Niffty continues her unprompted cleaning, another demon materializes in the lobby, this one a winged cat demon with card suit markings.  It seems he's been pulled out of a game of blackjack.  

Intrigued, you wander over to meet him, "Woah... Hi, there!"

"Huh?  Who the hell are you?  What..." the cat demon looks disoriented, until his eyes land on Alastor just behind you.  He snarls, before pointing, "You!"

"Ah!  Husker, my good friend!" Alastor greets, brushing past you and approaching him with an air of familiarity, "Glad you could make it!"

"Don't you 'Husker' me, you son of a bitch!" the cat demon hisses, "I was about to win the whole damn pot!"

"Good to see you, too."

You blink and glance between the two demons, trying to parse their relationship.  This "Husker" seems to be rather hostile towards the Radio Demon, while Alastor treats the winged feline like an old friend.

Husk runs a clawed hand down his face in frustration, "What the hell do ya want with me this time?" he asked.

Alastor wraps an arm around Husk's shoulders, pulling him close, "My friend, I am doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services!" he pauses, pressing his face to the grumpy-looking feline demon's, "I hope that's okay!"

"Are you shittin' me?" Husk growls in irritated dismay.

Alastor hums in mock thought, "No, I don't think so!" he says.

Infuriated, Husk shoves him away, "You thought it'd be some kinda big fuckin' riot to pull me out of nowhere!?" he yowls.  You jump a bit at the cat demon's outburst, and flinch as he swears.  "You think I'm some kind of fuckin' clown?!"

You turn your head to look at Alastor, who looks like he's struggling not to laugh, biting his lip.  "... Maybe," he says, looking rather smug.

You sidle over to the fuming cat demon, inching closer until you're standing next to him.  "Welll... um... sorry about, um, your game?" you pause as he turns his glare to you, "Uh... we're working on a project to redeem sinners and transfer their souls to Heaven... uh, Mr..."

He stares at you unblinkingly.  "It's Husk," he says, before turning his attention back to Alastor, "I ain't doin' no fuckin' charity job," he growls.

For the second time, Alastor melts into a shadow on the floor, re-materializing behind Husk and pulling him into a one-armed hug, "Well, I figured you would be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment!" he says, gesturing to the front desk, which you now see he has transformed into a bar with card suit decor.  He grabs Husk's face, pulling the corners of his mouth into a smile, "With your charming smile, and welcoming energy, this job was made for you!"

Your brows furrow.  This seems like a very blatant attempt at sabotage, considering Husk's grouchy, irritable demeanor.  It isn't anything you can't work with, though, and Niffty seems genuinely helpful enough, so you choose not to address it unless someone else brings it up.

Alastor walks over to the desk and stands in front of it.  "Don't worry my friend," he said, "I can make this more welcoming!  ... if you wish."  As he speaks, he waves a bottle of alcohol into existence on the counter.  You tilt your head at the display, curious of what else the red demon can conjure up.

Husk stares at the bottle, before glaring at Alastor, "What?" he marches up to the other demon, scowling, "You think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?"  He snatches the bottle off the counter and looks at it, before looking back up, "... Well, you can!" he growls begrudgingly, downing the bottle and moving to sit behind the counter.

You watch him, not sure whether to feel amused, relieved, or anxious.  

"Hey, hey!" Vaggie objects.  "No, no, no, no!  No!  No bar, no alcohol!" she shouts, "This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin!"  She sends you a look that demands why you would stand by while this is happening while she waves her arms in a gesture of refusal.

You catch Angel as he tries to launch himself at her, "Now, hey," you say, nervously, while Angel shouts at her to shut up, "the consumption of alcohol in and of itself isn't a sin, really... just overindulgence in it."  //Though the presence of a bar would pose a temptation to any patrons prone to alcoholism...//  You think a moment, "We can set up a system to reward good behavior and prevent any patrons from getting drunk!"  You let Angel go, "This project won't work if all we do is discourage sin.  We need to encourage good behavior with positive reinforcement!"

Angel nods in agreement, "We are keeping this," he huffs, pointing to the bar.  You sigh as he leans against the bar and begins flirting with Husk, who is not receptive.

Charlie bounds up to the front desk, radiating with bright energy and extending her hand to Husk, "Oh my gosh!  Welcome to the Happy Hotel!  You are going to love it here!"

Husk is not amused, "I lost the ability to love years ago," he says, reaching for his bottle of booze and continuing to down it.

"Well, maybe we can help with that," you say, popping up next to Charlie.  Husk sighs.

"So, whaddaya think?" Alastor asks, pulling Charlie aside.

"This is amazing!" Charlie gushes.

Vaggie crosses her arms, looking around, "It's... okay."

You tilt your head as you join the group, "It's a good start!" you state, smiling.

Alastor chuckles, "This is going to be very entertaining," he says, before tossing a fireball up into the air and shoving you into Vaggie, knocking the both of you over as he begins to sing a reprisal of Charlie's song from her interview.  As he sings, he transforms the entirety of your surroundings as well as everyone's wardrobes.  Things get strange as he invites living shadows into the building that dance and sing and play instruments.  There's something about them that has you thinking, but they avoid you when you try to get a closer look at them.  You frown, slightly disappointed while Alastor cheerfully insults the entirety of Hell in song.  This is going to be a lot of work.  But it'll be worth it.

Alastor's singing is interrupted by an explosion, and you quickly grab Niffty, who was dancing in the path of a flying door, out of the way before the door crashes into the back wall.  You and the demons poke your heads out of the gaping hole in the wall where the door used to be and look up to see an airship hovering overhead.

The cockpit opens, and a black and yellow cobra demon pokes his head out, flaring his hood.  "Hah! Well, well, well. Look who it is harboring the striped freak!" he shouts, before leaning out, "we meet yet again, Alastor!"  You look between the snake demon and Alastor in curiosity.  //Rivals?//

No.  Alastor tilts his head, "Do I know you?" he asks.

The snake demon deflates, before hissing in anger, "Oh, yesss, you do!"  He retreats back into the cockpit of his airship, pulling some levers, "And this time I have the element of... sssurprise!"

A cannon descends from the belly of the airship, roaring to life and preparing to fire, you tense, and for the first time since arriving realize that you may actually have to fight some of the demons you meet during your time in Hell.

You're just wondering how you'll go about doing that when Alastor snaps his fingers.  Instantly, a portal of some sort opens beneath the airship, huge black tentacles springing out of it and attacking the airship.  Alastor grins menacingly as he directs the tentacles, and several living shadows circle the airship as it's destroyed.

As Alastor is finishing the airship off, strange symbols you're unfamiliar with float around him.  One drifts a bit too close to you for comfort, and you swat it away into the ground, though no one notices.

At the end of it all, you and the the other demons are left looking at the wreckage left behind by a single demon, while Alastor stands proudly over it all.  There's an almost suffocating tension in the air.

Finally, Alastor turns around to face the group, "Well I'm starved!  Who wants some jambalaya?" he shouts, breaking the tension.

You tilt your head, "I don't think I've ever had that before."

Alastor's head whips around to face you, "Well, aren't you in for a treat!  My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for Jambalaya.  In fact, it nearly killed her!"  He turns and begins to make his way back to the hotel, Niffty following close behind and gazing up at him in admiration.

As he continues talking, you join Charlie and Vaggie.

"So, I have a few ideas," you begin, and Charlie nods, "we don't have to use all of them, of course, but I thought I'd share them.  The first one may sound a bit cold, but I promise it's only to help us get on our feet...  I think we should start off by advertising mostly to new arrivals, demons who just fell.  They're more likely to want to leave, and, if we're honest, will likely be less confident that they'll be able to survive the yearly extermination.  Of course, we'll welcome older souls, too if they come, but... ..."

--

EXTRA:

"There is no such thing as a lost cause!" you sing.  Alastor whips his head around to face you. The two of you stand there for a moment, each grinning widely at the other.  The rest of the group watches you, concerned.  

"Curious..." Alastor murmurs.

Chapter Text

One of the many very nice things about Heaven is that you are freed from all physical and emotional burdens that held you back in life.

In your particular case, for example, this meant that upon your death and ascension to Heaven, you were no longer plagued by the fears and debilitating anxiety that often stopped you from pursuing your life's Purpose and doing things you might have otherwise enjoyed. In fact, these burdens had kept you from doing so much when you were alive that you were quite honestly surprised that you made it into Heaven at all.

In Heaven, though, there was no fear. Only boldness, and resolve.

You still feel that resolve, it's definitely still there, but it's a tiny bit undermined by the fact that now that you're no longer in Heaven, you're once again susceptible to fear.

That and the curse of poor timing, because it was at the same moment that you so brilliantly decided to allow yourself to freefall into Hell to avoid arousing suspicion in the demons living there that your lifelong fear of heights returned to you.

Panic grips you as you plummet from the red sky to the equally red city below.

//Red, red, RED.// Everything is red. You're going to be red soon; a red smear on the pavement of Hell's capitol city. What were you thinking? //Why in Heaven's good name did you think it was a good idea to take a swan dive into Hell?// You should have just found a more secluded place to land, or come earlier, when all the demons would have still been in hiding or preoccupied with the exterminators so you wouldn't be seen! Instead, you're going to crash into the cement below and be in the most pain you've ever been in since you died.

//I'm already dead, I can't die again. I'm already dead, I can't die again! I'm already dead, I can't die again!!// You repeat it over and over to yourself like a mantra as the ground rapidly rises up to meet you.

Foolishly, at the last second, you stretch out a wing in an attempt to catch yourself.

You hit the ground, hard.  Your wing snaps, and your breath is knocked out of you.  Your back digs into the ground, creating a large crater in the pavement.

You cry out in pain.  Everything hurts.  There's a ringing in your ears and when you open your eyes, all you can see is a blur of red.

Wheezing, you try to lift your head, but it throbs and you lay it back down.  A moment later, you try sitting up, but your limbs feel weighed down and only twitch.

As you try again to get up, you become vaguely aware of movement in the corners of your vision.

With some difficulty, you turn your head towards the stimulus.  Several fuzzy figures are slowly slinking their way in your direction.  You blink.  From what you can gather, it's a group of very strange, very diverse creatures.  

None of them look quite like another, ranging from very small to very large.  Some have horns and others don't.  Almost all of them have sharp, glinting teeth.

Demons.

And as one draws near enough that you can make out their expression, it becomes abundantly clear that they have very bad intentions.

You jolt, but your limbs stay where they are.  You scream internally for your body to move, but it refuses to listen.  Blearily, you try to lift your arms, your legs— but they won't move beyond an inch.  Desperation claws at you as the demons draw nearer.  You're locked in a fight with your own body as it protests in pain.

By the time you manage to roll onto your side, you can make out most of their faces.  They grin hungrily at you.

They're almost on top of you when you finally have your wobbly legs supporting you in a crouched position.  Just as the closest one reaches for you, you dig clawed hands into the ground and spring up, smacking him in the face with your foot as you kick off the ground and break into a run. 

The demon shouts curses after you while a few of his companions laugh derisively, but you pay little mind to it.  You're focused on getting to a more populated part of the city.

Eventually, you reach a crowded street, and, seeing that you aren't being chased, you stop running.  The haze from your fall is gone, and, having recovered from your sprint, you're able to really see Hell up close for the first time.

Hell is ghoulishly whimsical.

Slowly spinning around, you take in the sights as you wander along in awe.  Demons of every shape and size pass you by as they enter and exit strange unholy establishments the likes of which you've never seen before.  The crowd is thick enough that at some points you have to twist yourself around to squeeze past other pedestrians, and you have to watch your step to avoid treading upon some small, impish demons that barely make it past your knees.  Some posters catch your eye and you stop to take a better look at them.

"Hey, Gorgeous!"

"Huh?" You turn to see a one-eyed roach demon in a fedora peeking out at you from an alleyway.  You tilt your head in curiosity.  //Is... is he talking to me?//

His antennae twitch.  "How's about me n' you take a step back n' have ourselves a good time?" He proposes with a sleazy grin.

You balk.  "Ah... no—no thank you," you answer, shying away.

He scoffs, "Whateva'.  Bitch."

Affronted, you turn and continue on your way.  //My word!// you think, //what a creep!//

Hell, you come to realize, is full of such creeps.  As the day wears on, it seems you can't go two blocks without being catcalled or even occasionally groped.  One demon goes as far as to wrap an arm around your shoulders and attempt to lead you off somewhere.  Luckily, that had been the most persistent of the harassment you've endured, and it hadn't even been that difficult to duck away from.  Still, you're growing weary of these rude, lecherous demons, and are very grateful that you'd managed to recover from your fall before that first group you met could touch you.

You shudder.

Possibly even more annoyingly, whenever you ask anyone for directions, you're either ignored or openly mocked.  No one you speak to has anything to say that isn't either a trashy pick-up line or a direct insult to your family lineage, your sanity, or your intelligence.  

This is getting ridiculous.  You know these are demons, but it's almost as though they're biologically averse to being helpful.

After being laughed at for possibly the hundredth time by someone resembling a punk-rock dinosaur upon asking if they could point you in the direction of a Hotel for redeeming sinners, you're feeling particularly disheartened.  Maybe you should just find a map of the city, and try to deduce the location of the Happy Hotel from that.

You're just pondering on changing your tactics when you come upon a rather disheveled black snake demon lying in the street.

He's dressed rather smartly, but he's very clearly injured, seeing as he's lying face-down on the pavement with several kinks in his tail and spine.  He's covered in eyes and is accompanied by what appears to be a small, egg-shaped homunculus who is currently trying to pull him upright by a limp, noodly arm.  Both individuals wear top hats, the snake's bearing a face with a single eye that wears an expression of exhaustion.

"Oh my Goodness!" You rush over to the wounded demon's side, holding up a hand to the egg-creature and waving for it to back up.  "Are you okay?  What happened to you?!"

The snake demon lifts his face.  Upon seeing seeing you, he scowls.  "None of your businesss!" he hisses.  He then lays his head sideways on the pavement and glares at you with slitted red eyes.  

You sigh.  //Everyone in Hell is so rude!//

"Sir, I'm trying to help you!" you tell him, kneeling down, "Where does it hurt the most?"

"Help?  Are you sstupid?!" the demon punctuates his words with a jerk of his long body, before wincing in pain.

You grit your teeth, this is going to be difficult.  "Look, Mister... ?" you begin.

"Sir Pentiouss!" he howls.

"Sir Pentious," you repeat, then pause to stifle a chuckle at the name, "I am—was...?—a wildlife rehabilitator.  I can help you.  Just... what happened?  Where's your pain?"

"A wildlife—?!  What are you talking about?!" he shouts.  

You pause.  //Victorian-era clothes... did they not have those yet back then?//  

"I used to help sick and injured wild animals get back on their feet—or... at least... back into proper shape for life in the wild, if they didn't have feet," you explain, eyeing the length of his body.  

If he isn't going to be helpful, you'll just have to find the problem the way you would with actual animals.

"Wh—what the devil are you doing here, then?!"

You place your hands on Sir Pentious's back and begin applying a light pressure to feel along one of the bigger kinks in his spine.

He jerks away from you, "What are you doing?!  Don't touch me, you buffoon!" he screeches.  "Get your hands off me!"  

The egg looks nervously back and forth between the two of you.  You become irritated.

"I might not have to—Maybe I wouldn't need to—depending on what the damage is—if you just told me what happened!"  You find that most of these kinks were just some strange equivalents of knots in his back you need to mollify.

"... You're new here, aren't you?" he grumbles.

"Yep, sure am," you confirm, and you bring an elbow down on a large kink in his back.

Sir Pentious screams.  "Well, allow me to educate you!  I am Sir Pentious!  I control a vast expanse of territory!  I, Sir Pentious, am to be feared!"  He slams a fist on the ground.

"Wow, your back is really messed up!  What, did someone tie you in a bunch of knots or something?" you wonder aloud, moving on to the next kink.

He stiffens.  "Erm... well...—AUGH!"

It's been a long time since you've seen a snake in such bad shape.  "I haven't seen something this bad since I got some rescues from off some snake-hater... guy."  You decide to keep up a conversation to distract Sir Pentious as you treat his injuries.  "That guy really hated snakes," you muse, "most snake-haters are content just bashing 'em in the head with rocks, but this  guy..." you trail off.  You don't like this story.  It's one of the most extreme cases of animal cruelty you had come across in your work.  You'd forgotten about it until just now.

You decide to change the subject; "You know, this is the first time I've worked with such an exotic species," you joke, "but, hey, it can't be that much different from coral snakes, right?"

Your patient huffs.  "Excuse you.  —Ow!—I am very unique!"

You chuckle.  "Yeah, you're right," you agree, "What with all these eyes along your tail—really cool by the way."  

Sir Pentious lies in stunned silence.  "Oh.  ...Why thank you!  —AHGH!"  You grin.  

After several more minutes of prodding and kneading, you've finished what you can do for the snake demon. You stand up, brushing yourself off.  "Alright, Sir.  Can you stand—er periscope?" you ask.

"Pardon?"

"Uh, periscope?  The, uh, snake equivalent to standing?" you explain, offering a hand.

He swats your hand away and raises the upper half of his body off the ground.  "I am perfectly fine, thank you!"

You frown, then shake your head in amusement.  "Alright, well, I recommend you rest up for a few days and do some stretches... to make sure none of those kinks re-form..." you awkwardly advise.

"Boss!"  The egg... thing runs up to Sir Pentious and leaps up to hug him.  "You're okay!"

The snake demon glowers at him.  "Don't touch me, you embryonic fool!" he shoves him away and smacks the poor thing down onto the ground.

You wince as the Egg Boi hits the ground with a crack.  

"Well," you start, straightening yourself up, "I guess I'll be going, then.  I have a hotel to find."

Pentious sends you a questioning glance.  "A hotel?"

You brighten, "Yeah, the Happy Hotel?  I've been looking for it for a while," you say, rubbing the back of your head a bit sheepishly.

The demon takes a breath with a raised finger, then deflates with a scowl.  Then, grumbling, he turns away from you and starts digging into his pockets.  His egg-like assistant circles around and watches him curiously while he fiddles around with something out of your sight.  

Finally, he turns around and grudgingly hands you a sheet of paper.

"Here," he grumbles.

You take the sheet and scan it over.  It's a crudely-drawn map with only three locations and a few landmarks labeled in black ink.  There's your present location, what appears to be a large mansion, and the hotel you're looking for.

A warm feeling fills you, and you look up with a grateful smile.  "Thank you, Sir Pentious.  This is exactly what I needed."

He scoffs and turns away.  "Whatever.  Don't think this is the lasst you'll see of me.  And next time, you'll be trembling in your boots in terror!" he declares with a raised fist.

You stifle a laugh behind your own fist, "I'm sure I will be.  See you later, friend."

"Ha!  You're a naïve fool to think this makes us friends!" He cackles, before flinching as he aggravates a tender spot in his tail.  He continues to chortle as he slithers away.  You chuckle and turn to continue on your own way.

***

The map Sir Pentious gave you was extremely helpful.  You look between the building before you and its image on the map and smile triumphantly.  The sign above it reads "Hazbin" rather than "Happy," but your gut tells you this is the right place.  Satisfaction fills you.  The first part of your mission is complete.

You march up to the large front doors, ready to enter.  You're confident that you can handle whatever lies beyond those doors.

And so you knock.

Chapter Text

You have to wait a moment after you've knocked on the hotel's large double-doors before one of them opens.  When it does, you're faced with a gray-skinned moth demoness with a missing eye.  She looks at you with a cautious frown.

"Hello?" she asks.

You smile, "Hi!  I was told that this was the hotel-slash-rehabilitation center the princess was setting up?"

The moth demoness raises an eyebrow, "Yes, this is the Happy Hotel."  

"Perfect!" you proclaim, before introducing yourself.  "I would have come sooner, but I got lost on the way here!"

She looks you up and down, and, after a moment, opens the door wider to let you in, "My name is Vaggie, and I'm the manager.  We're actually still setting up for business, so please excuse the mess," she says, still frowning.

"Oh!  That's quite alright!" you tell her, stepping in and taking a look around the lobby, "I was actually hoping to help with that, if that's alright."

Vaggie blinks.  "You want to help?"

You nod, "Yes!  It's a great cause, and I've been really itching to do some good.  This seemed like the perfect opportunity!"

Vaggie gives you a skeptical glance, before a pale, rosy-cheeked, blonde demoness who's helping move furniture while a tiny little cyclops-like demoness in a poodle skirt cleans the lobby notices the two of you.  She rushes over, a wide, bright smile on her face.

"Oh, hello!" she shouts, starry-eyed and hopeful, "Welcome to the Happy Hotel!"  She takes your right hand in both of hers, enthusiasm and positivity radiating off of her, "I'm Charlie!" she looks between you and Vaggie, "And it looks like you've already met Vaggie?"

So this is Charlie Morningstar, the princess you've come to help.  She certainly is lively.  You like her already, though you pretty much already knew you would.

You nod, "It's good to meet you, princess," you say.

She lets go of your hand.  "Please, just call me Charlie!" she tells you.  "So, are you checking in?"

You smile, "You could say that," you answer, "I actually wanted to volunteer some work and knowledge to your project." 

Vaggie frowns and raises a dubious eyebrow, but Charlie looks interested, "Knowledge?" she asks.

"Yep!" you respond, "I have some experience and knowledge on the subject of rehabilitation."

"Do you, now?" Vaggie is reasonably skeptical. 

 "Oh, yes!" you nod, smiling, "I used to be a wildlife rehabilitator, and while that's obviously very different from rehabilitating the behavior of people, the concepts are quite similar!"

You look around the hotel lobby.  The walls are lined with portraits of Charlie and her family, along with a few other demons.  Aside from these portraits, the interior décor of the hotel seems a bit grotesque; appropriate for a building in Hell, but strange to see in an establishment meant to get its patrons into Heaven.

You're about to ask about it when a masculine, radio static-laced voice shouts from another room:

"—AND THE JAMBALAYA IS READY!  COME GET IT WHILE IT'S HOT!  Though do be careful, it's got quite the kick!"

"OOH!" the tiny cyclops demon flits out of the lobby into the dining hall in excitement.

"...What an energetic little... person...?" you observe, watching her leave.

"You don't know the half of it," Vaggie sighs.

Charlie smiles awkwardly before addressing you, "I'd love to talk about having you here... but, uh, you may want to know..." she stops herself, seemingly hesitant, before beginning again, "Here, why don't you meet the rest of the staff?  Our sponsor's made lunch!"

Your eyebrows rise a bit, "Sure! Sounds good!"

The two demonesses lead you to the dining hall, where a small gathering of demons sits at a few tables; the small cyclops demoness from before sits with a grumpy-looking winged cat demon, and a tall spider demon sits at another.  Standing at the first table, holding a large serving bowl full of steaming food, is a smiling red deer demon in a suit with ripped coattails and a rather plain apron.

The deer demon turns to greet the princess and her partner, but stops upon seeing you.

"And who might this little fellow be?" he asks.

"Alastor," Charlie greets, before introducing you, "They've volunteered to help with the hotel!"

Alastor's grin shifts slightly, "I see! A new addition to the team!" He scans you over a bit as the three of you sit down at a table, before approaching your table and serving you each a hot helping of jambalaya.

"So, what is it you can do?" he asks as he serves you.

You smile, "Well," you begin, "I have a little knowledge on how the rehabilitation process works; I was a wildlife rehabilitator when I was alive, and my mother worked in the rehabilitation of people for most of my life."

"What the fuck are you doing in Hell?" asks the grumpy cat demon incredulously. You merely shrug in response before taking a look at your food.

"So you think your experience in life will be of use when working with the literally damned, do you?" Alastor asks.

Though his voice has a hint of mockery to it rather than genuine curiosity, you decide to answer the question after you've had your first bite of your meal.  You take a bite and pause a second as your mouth is hit with a burning sensation--the food is certainly very spicy like Alastor had warned.

"I think it should," you answer, taking another bite, this time expecting the kick, "Why? You have doubts?"

"Alastor isn't convinced that it's possible to redeem a demon," Charlie explains.

"He just wants to watch us fail," Vaggie adds with a grumble.

You blink before sending Alastor a questioning glance.

"Well, come now!" he begins, "It's ridiculous!  The sinners here have had their chance!  Everyone sent here is guilty of unspeakable crimes!" he waves an arm, gesturing to the room, "There's no undoing that!  It's hopeless!  A lost cause!"

"So, in other words, you think it's impossible because sinners don't deserve redemption?" you ask, scooping at your food.

"You could say that!" Alastor agrees.

"Alastor makes a good point," you admit, having swallowed a bite.

"So you agree?" Alastor leans forward, smug grin growing larger on his face.

"Not at all!" You say, taking another bite, chewing thoughtfully and swallowing, "As a matter of fact, I think you're completely wrong!"  You gesture with your fork, "Certainly you make some truthful observations, but when it comes time to draw conclusions, I'd say you've got it all backwards."  You glance at Charlie and shoot her a smile.

"Do you now?" Alastor asks, adjusting his monocle.

"Well, what do we know about sin?" you ask, looking around the room, "It's any action taken that harms another person, right?"

"Sounds about right," Vaggie responds, resting her face in her hand.

The spider demon looks bored.  "What's your point?" he asks.

"Well, have you ever known anyone who's never harmed someone else?" you answer the question with your own.

"Pfftsh!  No," is his scoff of a response.

"Is everyone you've ever known here in Hell?"

This gives him pause.

"See," you continue, "If the only factor involved was whether or not someone 'deserves' one thing or another, or if they've sinned in their lifetime or not, everyone would be going to Hell."  You give a glance to everyone in the room, "The fact that that's not the case... has to mean something."

"I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree," Alastor speaks loftily.

You look at him and shoot him an amused smile, "I suppose we will."

Chapter Text

It's been a couple of days since you've joined Charlie's project.

Both days are spent cleaning up the building, organizing and moving furniture, dusting, removing clutter, among other things.  As per an agreement you made with Vaggie, you make sure to do most of the work manually while the demons are watching, though you do at one point use your angelic power to drive the population of pests out of the building when no one is looking.

All in all, the hotel is looking much better, though you still have some concerns.

It's the decor.

You have no problem with Charlie's family portraits, of course, but the rest of the decor is... well, Hellish.

The wallpaper is dark red with a fruit-themed pattern—no doubt a vestige from when Lucifer was using the building, and all the picture frames and furniture have eyes that exude evil intent. Many of the purely decorative pieces seem to have an aura of malice, and you wonder how many of them are actually artifacts of a less than savory nature.

No, if this hotel is to encourage positive change in its patrons, then the decor needs to reflect that.

So it's on this day, as your team continues to clean up the building, that you take your concerns to Charlie.

"Hey, Charlie?" you catch her attention once she's finished directing the relocation of some furniture.

"Yeah?" she responds.

You take a moment to think your words over.  "I... I'm not sure if it has any... er, cultural significance, but, well, I have some concerns.  Regarding the interior decor."  You're trying your best to be sensitive about how you address this, since you don't know if Charlie has any particular attachment to any of it.

"Oh?  What is it?" Charlie asks.

"Well," you begin, not sure what to address first.  You decide to begin with a question of your own, "uh, first, is there a reason most of the furnishings have eyes?"  A thought comes to you, "Oh, goodness, are they alive?"

"Sort of...?" Charlie tries to explain, "I mean, the eyes are real, yes.  They don't really have any connection to any brain, though?  Like, they can see, but they can't process what they're seeing."

"Huh..." you say, holding your chin in thought, "that's... interesting?"

Charlie looks somewhat uncomfortable.  "Yeah... they're, uh, what gets left behind whenever a demon dies permanently."

Oh.  

"I see," you say.  //I suppose that means nothing can really be done about them?//  You decide to move on to a less uncomfortable subject.  "Okay, well, the wallpaper.  It's very... red.  It's not a good color for a place that's meant to feel safe and inspire change," you say.

"Oh, really?" Charlie responds, surprised.

It's now that Vaggie notices the two of you in conversation and joins in. 

"What's going on over here?" she asks.

Charlie gestures to you, "They have a few concerns about how the hotel is decorated," she explains.

Vaggie looks to you for an explanation.

"Red is a stressor color," you tell them, "Red, especially dark red, like this wallpaper, naturally increases heart rate when viewed.  Scientifically, it's a bad color for someone prone to violence to be surrounded by."

"Oh!" Charlie exclaims, surprised.  "I didn't realize color could influence behavior!"

Vaggie looks thoughtful, "I guess that makes sense, 'seeing red,' and all that.  So what color do you recommend?  White?"

You shake your head, "Not white, that's also a stressor color; it's too bright, and doesn't give any sensory input, especially when it's the color of a wall.  If you don't want to change the look of the place too much, I'd suggest pink; it's a calming color that induces relaxation, it's the color the most successful mental hospitals use for their walls."

Both demonesses look uncomfortable at the suggestion.

"That might not be such a good idea..." Charlie informs you.

"Pink is associated with Lust and sex services down here," Vaggie explains, "Pink walls would send the wrong message."

//Well, that changes things.//

"Oh, okay!" you take this information in and made a mental note to remember it, "Well in that case, what about blue?  It's also a calming color, and it inspires creativity, especially when it's a lighter shade."

Charlie brightens, "We can do that!" she agrees happily.

Vaggie looks less convinced, "Sounds expensive," she points out.

You tilt your head, "Is light blue pigment harder to get down here?" you ask.

"Much harder," Vaggie nods.

"It's not that big a problem!" Charlie cuts in before you can try to think of a possible solution, "Money's not a problem!"

You nod in understanding.  "Still," you muse, leaning in to whisper secretively as Niffty flits into the room and begins touching up the cleaning job, "I could call in for some resources...!"

"It's really okay!" Charlie insists, "Besides, I'm not sure paint from..." she also lowers her voice to a whisper, "...Heaven... would be healthy for demons."

"You should probably also save your calls for emergencies anyway," Vaggie agrees.

Convinced, you relent.  "Alright."

It's at this moment that Alastor walks into the room, presumably to help Niffty with her cleaning.  While Niffty is too preoccupied with her cleaning to notice the three of you, Alastor is much more alert, and immediately sees your little huddle.

"Ah, just the demons I was looking for! What are you three up to?" he asks jovially, grin never faltering.  Vaggie's eye narrows as he approaches.

You return his smile with a polite one of your own, "Hi, Alastor!  We were just talking about how the interior of the Hotel should look!"

The Radio Demon tilts his head, "Is it not satisfactory as it is?"

"No, no!  It looks great already!" you answer awkwardly, unsure of his thoughts on the matter, "It's just...!"

"They think blue would be more conducive to what we're trying to achieve," Charlie explains for you, and you send her smile.

"Blue?" Alastor muses, "are you sure?"

Vaggie huffs at his question, "They think it'll promote a calmer atmosphere," she reasons.

"Ah! Color theory!" Alastor nods, "But does our budget allow for it?"

"We're more than fine, financially," Charlie insists, "but if you're really concerned about it, we can limit it to one of the lounges–the one we'll use for our sessions!"

Alastor remains silent for a moment before agreeing.  "Alright, I suppose that's acceptable.  but do try not to make too many expensive choices!"  He gives you a pointed look, "Hell has limited resources, after all!"

You sigh.  He's clearly trying to find a reason to dismiss your ideas, but he's also right about one thing, even if he doesn't know about it.  If you're to continue this mission while successfully remaining undercover, you'd have to learn and get used to what is and isn't accessible right here in Hell.

"Well, good thing we have veteran demons on the team!" you observe, shrinking a bit in embarrassment, "Y'know, since I haven't been here very long and don't really know how things work yet...!"

"You're fine," Vaggie reassures you, patting your shoulder, "He's just trying to intimidate you."

Alastor neither confirms nor denies this, opting instead to stand in smug silence before changing the subject:

"Ah, that's right!  I took it upon myself and filmed you one of those television advertisements for the hotel!  I hope it's to your liking!"

He leads the three of you to sit at a couch in the lobby in front of an old, boxy television set, standing next to it and leaning down to turn it on.

The ad starts abruptly, with clearly amateur footage of one demon stabbing another on the street, with a voice-over by Alastor himself: "WELL, HELLO THERE, YOU WAYWARD SINNER!  DO YOU LIKE BLOOD, VIOLENCE, AND DEPRAVITY OF A SEXUAL NATURE?!"

You grimace, while Alastor's voice is almost made for advertisements and voice-overs, the film quality is just... bad.  The frame is tilted (completely unintentionally, as far as you can tell,) and Alastor had started talking while the... 'subjects'... were out of focus.  Plus the subjects clearly hadn't known they were being filmed until Alastor started talking... making the ad practically a snuff film.

"OF COURSE YOU DO!  THAT'S WHY YOU'RE IN HELL!!" Alastor's recorded voice continues.  You have to keep yourself from groaning with Vaggie as you watch the dumpsterfire of an ad.

"BUT WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IF I TOLD YOU THERE WAS A PLACE TO STAY THAT HAD NONE OF THAT?!"

Again, you have to keep yourself from groaning and laying your head in your palm: this is the opposite of an ad; it's actively discouraging visitors!  On top of that, the cinematography is of poor quality and Alastor clearly did the voice-over as he was filming instead of adding it in high quality in post.  You can hardly keep watching, it's so bad.

//Does... does Alastor even know how to film something visually?//

You watch the rest of the advertisement between your fingers in frustration.  The few edits the film have are visually unappealing, and even when the staff and resident are on-screen, they clearly either don't know they were being filmed, or are totally unprepared for it.  As someone who appreciates a good film and even dabbled a bit in the art of film editing, you feel underwhelmed and even a little offended.

"So!  What do you think?!" Alastor asks, turning off the TV and standing up proudly beside it.

//Don't be mean, don't be mean, he's from the 30's and clearly doesn't know how to hold a camera, don't be mean...!//

"Ah, um..." you force a smile, "It's a... good... first... try...?"  You sigh.  "It needs some work..."

"Excuse me?!" Vaggie interjects, "'Needs some work'?!  What the fuck was that?" she demands, turning to Alastor in fury.

"Uh, yeah..." Charlie speaks in a gentle, if awkward voice, "One note, Alastor..."

A bit of radio static emits from the red demon, though his grin remains unchanged.

"First off, thank you so much, for making this," Charlie continues.

You sigh, unable to hold it in much longer.  "Alastor, I appreciate you stepping out of your comfort zone and using a medium you're not used to, but could you have at least tried to learn how to make it visually appealing?  Or even done more than one take?" you add the last bit quietly, under your breath.

"The tone is a bit... off," Charlie admits.

Alastor narrows his eyes.

"An ad is supposed to be appealing!" you critique, ignoring his change in expression, "It's supposed to make this hotel look appealing...!"

Charlie nods, "...This makes it look... um..."

"It makes it look bad," Vaggie intervenes, "What they're trying to say is it looks bad."

"Funny," Alastor replies, tilting his head back, "I was going for hilarious!"

You sigh again, "It didn't clearly state the purpose of the service it's meant to feature..."

"It didn't explain anything!" Vaggie groans in frustration, "It didn't say anything about how we're trying to help them escape the extermination, which is the whole fucking point!"  You flinch at the foul language.

"They're both right, Alastor," Charlie admits, "The commercial is for letting demons know we are trying to save them!"

"Well, as this one stated before," Alastor excuses himself, pointing to you with his staff, "television simply isn't my medium!  I haven't been active in Hell for quite some time and what people remember me for is my radio show!  The proper medium in which to express oneself.  But you insisted on this!"  He taps the television in... is that disgust?

You sigh, again, "'Proper mediums' aside, if you were having trouble, Alastor, you could have asked for help!  I would have helped you if I knew you were having trouble!"

"'Having trouble?'" Alastor repeats, sounding baffled by the phrase, "I wasn't having trouble, new spawn, this 'tellyvision' just isn't my medium."

"Whatever the reason this ad came out subpar," you waive, "I could have helped!  As a wildlife rehabilitator, I had to make my own video ads and public service announcements all the time!"

"If you're so confident about that, then why don't you take care of it then?" Alastor asks, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

"I'd be happy to!" you shoot back, unwavering, "I might not know what appeals to demons yet, but I do know what appeals to people, and, well, demons are really just people in different skin!"  Then you shoot him a sly grin of your own; "And when I'm done, I can show you, and you can adapt an audio-only version for the radio!  How's that sound?"

His grin widens minutely.  "It sounds lovely, my dear!"

Just as you come to this agreement, a loud, silly polka tune begins to blare from Charlie's hellphone.

"Ah, I have to take this," Charlie excuses herself, taking the phone into the hall to answer it.

Doing your best not to eavesdrop on Charlie's phone call, you turn your attention back to Alastor.

"Sooo... you have–had?  Still have?"  You trip over your words before starting over, "Your radio show!  You seem to have fun with it!  What's it like?"

"Which one?" Alastor asks, tilting his head, "The one I had in life, or the one down here?"

"Either of them!" you answer, entirely missing Vaggie's warning shakes of her head, "whichever one you'd rather talk about!  I don't mind!"

You only half regret asking, as Alastor proceeds to describe, in graphic, gory detail, his typical broadcast in Hell.  He's just getting to a particularly morbid part when Charlie returns from the hall.

"So... my Dad wants me to sub for him at a meeting with one of the heads of the Angel army," she says, mostly addressing Vaggie.

You and Vaggie glance at each other.  Vaggie silently questions you, but you can only shrug in response.

//One of the heads of the army?  So Micheal?// You think to yourself.  //Or Adam.  Hopefully it's Micheal, though.//  While you hadn't had a single uncomfortable or negative thought while you were still in Heaven, you now have your reservations about Adam and his attitude.  Thinking about it now, he seemed... off.  While you hardly ever spoke with him, he seemed a bit prideful, and not at all self-aware.

On top of those new reservations, you find it odd that you haven't been informed of this meeting being called.  Even though you're undercover and would never have been going to the meeting yourself, you're sure you should have been told about it.  You're left to wonder about this as Charlie leaves, before Alastor pulls your attention again.

From his story, you're able to gather that he's a cannibal and a gourmet.  An interesting combination.  You listen attentively and give polite input when prompted, even when it's difficult.

At some point during the conversation, you think you hear distant bell chimes.  Odd.

Chapter Text

"Hmm... So how's this sound? 'Are you lost and confused?  Salvation awaits at the Hazbin Hotel!'"

"Eh, you're gettin' there, I guess..."

You sigh, setting your notepad down.  "It's still not quite right...!" you mutter, taking a moment to glance over at Angel Dust, who you've been asking for input on your sales pitch for the Hotel.

"Why not take a break, babes?" Angel suggests, "Relax!  You've been workin' nonstop since you got here!"

You give another sigh, stretching out your stiff and weary back, "I know, I know...  It just doesn't feel right to rest until I've made progress!"

"You've been workin' on this for, like, two hours!" Angel insists, before pausing.  "Do... do you not know how to relax?"

"Not really," you admit.  It wasn't something that came easily to you, at least, not when you were alive.  In Heaven was a different story, but you aren't in Heaven right now.

"Sheesh!" Angel exclaims, before putting on a flirtatious tone, "I can help ya out with that, but it'll cost ya."

"No thank you," you reply.  "... Ooh! How about 'Weary sinners, rejoice!  Salvation is here!'"

Angel gives you a long-suffering look.  "Why'd ya take over from Smiles, again?"

"Because Alastor's videography is terrible!" you answer, squinting at your outline notes, "He doesn't even hold the camera at a decent angle!"

There's a pause.

"Ya know, if you're filming a commercial, ya could take advantage of the celebrity talent you've got here," Angel suggests, putting on a sultry tone.

You blink at him, "Are you offering to act in the advertisement?"

"Well, yeah!" he says, sounding almost exasperated.  "I mean, come on!  I'm right here!"

It's at this moment that Vaggie walks into the room.

"Angel, you're a porn star," she deadpans.

"A famous porn star," Angel corrects.  He grins, shifting suggestively in his seat, "I can have the horniest sinners knocking these walls down to–!"

"We are not filming a porno to promote the hotel," Vaggie states firmly.

"Definitely not," you agree, "But...!  If Angel wants to act in something that's not porn, I don't have any objections."

For a split second,  Angel seems to light up, though he immediately covers it up with a cool persona.  "I can do that," he purrs, examining his nails, though they're covered by his gloves.

"Great!" you exclaim, "How much is your fee?"

"My what now?"  He gives you a blank stare.

"Well, obviously, I'm gonna have to pay you if you're doing work for me!" you tell him.

"Ah, right.  Of course."

You're just beginning to discuss the spider demon's fees when Charlie returns.  She looks troubled, even panicked, white as a sheet with wide eyes.

"Charlie?" you ask.

Vaggie immediately goes to her girlfriend's side, "What's the matter, Hun?!"

Charlie blinks slowly, then answers with a small voice, "They moved the extermination up six months."

"What!?"  Vaggie pales.

"Charlie," you say, voice even, "What was the name of the angel you talked to?"

Charlie turns her gaze to you, though it seems more like she's staring through you than looking at you, "Adam.  Why?"

Your tone drops.  "Excuse me," you say, "I have to make a phone call."

You set your notepad down and excuse yourself from the lobby, ducking into a private room.

"God," you pray, urgently.

"Yes, my child?"  You hear God's fatherly voice in your mind.

"I have something to report," you say, grimly.  "I'm sure you already know this, but Adam has just moved up the date for the next extermination.  I have the feeling he didn't run that by you."

You feel a prickle in your spirit.  "You're right, he did not have my permission to do that."

"What should I do?" you ask.

"You need not worry," God's voice replies, "I will take care of it."

Relief floods your body, and you thank your Heavenly parent.  You leave the room to return to the demons in the lobby.

Just as you enter the lobby, you hear a distant bell chime, followed by the rumbling of a distant impact.

--

Meanwhile, in the Pentagram's city square, the countdown to the extermination reverts back to twelve months.  Immediately after, a shooting star crashes down, landing directly in front of the countdown clock tower.

"What the SHIT!!?" it shouts.

--

All of the Hotel's resident's have gathered in the lobby by the time you return.  Everyone aside from Alastor and Niffty are looking grim, until the chiming of the clock tower is heard.

"We've just received news that the announcement from the previous breaking news was received in error!  You know what that means, Tom?" the television, which had been turned on in the time you were gone, sputters.

"What does that mean?"

"It means Heaven's a bunch of dicks and they thought it would be funny to fuck with us.  Fuck them!"

"Huh?" is Angel and Husk's befuddled response to the news, both looking from the television to you, and back again.

"Well, that was short-lived!" Alastor comments.

"Welp, good thing it was a mistake!" you cheer, walking to where you'd left your notepad and picking it back up.  Returning to brainstorming ideas for the Hotel's ad, you have a sudden bout of inspiration.  "Oh, oh!  'Lift your head, weary sinner!  Salvation's waiting here!'"

You quickly jot the thought down, "Ooh, yeah!  Thanks, Crowder!"

--

"Okay, Angel.  Before we begin; you're not obligated to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable–."

"No shit," Angel sasses.

After the scare with the extermination date, you decided that Angel Dust was due for a therapy session–honestly everyone was, but Angel is the only one who's actually a patient, and you aren't about to force your amateur therapy on everyone else.

"So.  The news we got earlier today, about the extermination date.  How did that make you feel?  Did it scare you?"

Angel stares at you, unimpressed.  "It didn't fuckin' scare me," he lies, before changing the subject, "Look, why are we doing this now?  What about that commercial you want me to act in?"

"I'm still working on the script for that," you reply, "Plus, I want you to be mentally well while we work on that."  You refocus the session.  "So, Angel Dust, is that your preferred name, or just your stage name?"

"Why's that fuckin' matter?" Angel grumps.

"I just want to make sure you're comfortable during our sessions," you reply calmly.  "So what would you like to be called?"

"Angel Dust!" the spider demon huffs, "This is stupid."

You sigh.  This is difficult.  You're no professional, and you're pretty sure that any professionals you may be able to find here in Hell are down here for crimes against their patients, or are otherwise dangerous to be employing without them first being patients themselves.

"Angel, please cooperate."  You look down at some notes Charlie gave you.  "Charlie said you were a recreational drug user.  If you don't mind me asking, what drugs do you use?"

"What, you tryin' to rat me out?"

You shake your head, "Not at all, I'd just like to know so we can properly monitor your mental health.  A program for safely quitting can come later."

Angel groans.  "Ugh!" He scrubs a hand down his face in irritation.

Maybe you should try a different approach.  "So, what was your family life like, when you were alive."

Angel crosses his arms defensively, "None of your business."

You deflate, "Okay, we don't have to talk about that now...  How about right now?  How is your work life?  I know you're a sex worker, so you don't have to go into too much detail if you don't want to--,"

"I'm fine!" Angel snaps, "I don't understand why you guys keep asking about that!  It's what I'm famous for, obviously, I love it!"

You blink, then slowly note his reaction in your notepad.

"I don't know what you guys are trying to make me do!" Angel rants.  "Why are you even making me do this?  Charlie doesn't!"

"I'm not making you do anything," you state calmly, "I'm only asking you to try this out; you can end the session whenever you like."

"Well, I'd like to end this 'session' now!"

Nodding, you close your notepad, "Okay," you say, masking your disappointment, "Have a nice rest of your evening, Angel."

The next few sessions you have with Angel go similarly, you asking questions and Angel being hesitant or even refusing to answer.

"I need to find another angle to try this from," you admit to Charlie and Vaggie during a private meeting.

"Maybe one-on-one sessions just aren't Angel's thing," Charlie suggests.

You sigh, "I know... we just don't have enough patrons to do group therapy yet."  You lie your head on the table you're seated at, "At least he's enjoying acting for the ad, otherwise, I feel like he'd hate me."

"Angel doesn't hate you," Charlie reassures you, "he just has trouble opening up, that's all."

Later, you're knocking on Angel's door for the first time since you've come to the Hazbin Hotel.

"Angel," you call, "Are you ready for the next shoot?"

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," is the reply from the other side of the door.  A few moments later, Angel opens the door, giving you a peek inside his room.  It's pretty messy, blankets and clothes strewn about, along with a myriad of sex toys that cause your stomach to flip in discomfort, but also...

"Oh my goodness, is that a pig?" you ask, eyes landing on a little Hell piglet.

"That's... that's Fat Nuggets," Angel responds, glancing between you and the pig.

You squeal, "Oh my goodness!  Why didn't you tell me you had a pet?!" you ask, kneeling down to greet the Hell piglet.

Angel takes a moment to process what's going on.  The wheels turn in his head.  "Oh, yeah!  You're like, super into animals, aren't ya?" he finally says.

You snort, "My life revolved around animals, Angel!"  //This changes everything,// you realize.  Now that you know about this, you can finally make progress!  "What are his favorite treats?"

The spider demon shrugs, "I'm not sure?  He'll eat just about anything I give him."

Grinning you stand back up, "Angel, did you know that pigs are smarter than dogs?"

"I... I did not know that."

You have to stop yourself from squealing too loudly, "Angel, how do you feel about bringing Fat Nuggets to your next therapy session?" you ask him.

He looks surprised.  "I can do that?" he asks.

"Of course you can!  Animal therapy is super effective!" you tell him, eyes shining.

"That's a thing?!"

"Yes!" you answer, "And there are a few different kinds too!  It can be like normal therapy, but with your pet giving you emotional support, or, you can learn to train him!"

"Train...?"

"Yeah!  Like tricks!  Like come, sit, stay, fetch, that kind of stuff!"  You kneel back down and turn your attention back to Fat Nuggets, "What do you think, Fat Nuggets?  Do you want to help your dad?  Do you?"  You coo at the little piglet, giving him light scratches on his back.

"Ya know, maybe I wouldn't mind that," Angel muses.

The next time you have a therapy session with Angel Dust, he brings Fat Nuggets.  The session is dominated by conversation about the piglet, his care, and how Angel came to have the sweet bundle of love.  It's the longest session you've managed to have with the spider demon.

Small victories.

Chapter Text

You begin the day bright and early, waking up before anyone else in the hotel, besides Alastor, it seems.  Normally, Charlie and Vaggie would also be up, but they had a stressful day yesterday and so seem to be taking a couple of extra hours of sleep.

You have a quick breakfast, before heading to the office, greeting Alastor as you pass him.

Or try to pass him.

“Good Morning!” he returns your greeting, “You’re up earlier than usual!”

“Heh, figured I’d get an early start,” you say, taking out your office key to unlock the door.  You’re distracted for a moment by Keekee rubbing against your legs, nearly tripping you.

“Keekee!” you coo, your voice shooting up an octave, “You silly willy!  I almost stepped on you!”  Reaching down, you give her a scratch behind the ears.

Alastor watches with fascination, before speaking again, “An early start you say?”

You stand back up, “Yeah, I thought it would be nice to put up the flyers for the Hotel this morning, give Charlie a little less to worry about.”

“Going out on your own?  Are you sure that’s wise?” Alastor asks, tilting his head in question, “You haven’t ventured out of the hotel since your arrival.  I wouldn’t want you getting lost!”

“I’ll be fine!” you claim, waving a hand in assurance, “I’ll never figure out my way around if I don’t try!”

Alastor gives you a slow nod in understanding, before pulling you towards him by your shoulder.  “Still, it’d be remiss of me to let you go out on your own.  So!  Why don’t I come with you?”

You shoot him a bright smile, “That would be awesome!  Thanks!”  Picking up a stack of flyers, you give them one more look-over to make sure they were printed correctly.

“Oh, no need to thank me, dear.  The pleasure’s all mine!” the Radio Demon deflects.  He summons a few of his voodoo minions to pick up the remaining boxes of flyers before gesturing for you to lead the way out of the office.  Ever the gentleman, he waits for the small parade to exit the office before closing and locking the door for you.

The two of you, and Alastor’s small parade, all make your way out the front doors of the hotel, and you take a moment to take in the view of Pentagram City’s skyline.

“My Goodness!” you breathe, “I just can’t get over how amazing this place looks!”

Alastor chuckles at your almost child-like wonder, “It is a sight to behold, isn’t it?”

You spend the next few hours hanging and handing out flyers with Alastor guiding you through the city.  There is a method to your advertising madness; you hang flyers up in places that Alastor tells you are frequented by a lot of demons, and you hand some of them out to a few homeless or new-looking sinners.

“Maybe we should have brought some food baskets…” you muse, after handing another homeless sinner a flyer.  “Folks would probably be more interested in being redeemed if we meet their more immediate needs first.”

“Perhaps!” Alastor responds, popping suddenly into existence beside you and frightening the sinner into turning tail and running.  He watches in amusement as the terrified sinner flees, “Oh, dear!  My apologies!” he chuckles.

When the two of you return to the hotel, Alastor invites you to some late-morning tea.  You accept and let him know you’ll meet him on one of the balconies as soon as you’ve spoken to Charlie and Vaggie about your progress.

You have a pleasant conversation with the princess and her girlfriend, bringing up your realization from earlier in the day.

“... Sinners will probably be more open to the idea of redemption if we’re already helping them with their immediate needs,” you explain.

Charlie nods, not quite fully understanding, while Vaggie’s brow furrows in doubt.

You finish your conversation, and make your way out to the balcony to meet with Alastor.  The moment you step out, however, there’s an explosion and the building shakes.

You look up to see a menacing-looking zeppelin hovering above the hotel.

“Show yourssself, Alastor!” a familiar voice shouts, “Come and face—!  Oh, there you are.”

“Hello, Sir Pentious!” you call, giving a half-friendly wave.

“Oh!  Uh, h-hello!” Pentious stutters upon recognising you, “W-what are you doing with the Radio Demon?”

“We’re co-workers!” you explain, voice bright.

“Oh, well isn’t that—AAAAHHH!” Pentious screams as black tentacles wrap around his zeppelin and begin to shake it and drag it towards the ground.

Alastor chuckles, directing the tentacles to further wrap around the zeppelin, breaking the windshield of the cockpit.

“A-AHHH!  Please! Stop!” Pentious howls.

Alastor cackles, directing the tentacles to tilt the zeppelin forward, threatening to dump Sir Pentious out like beans from a can.

“Umm, Alastor?” you ask tentatively, “Did you have to do that?”

“No, not really,” Alastor admits jovially, “But it’s fun, so I did.”

“Alastor, he’s going to fall out!” you plead.

“Hmm… good.”  Alastor slips away on his shadow to the ground, just in front of the entrance to the hotel.

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, running a hand through your hair “this is fine…!  Baby steps!”

The zeppelin is still a good 90 feet in the air when Sir Pentious is shaken out, falling all the way down and landing on his face before Alastor’s feet.

“Thanks for another forgettable experience!” Alastor laughs, twirling his cane in the air.

“Thank… you!” Pentious wheezes, trying to catch his breath, “... for letting your guard down!”  He reaches forward with his tail, ripping a piece of fabric from Alastor’s coattail.  He cackles, until he notices Alastor’s growing shadow looming over him, an elk bugle emitting from the Radio Demon.

Oh!  I knew he was an elk! you think, distracted for a moment until Sir Pentious is sent flying into the distance.  Oh, ouch!  I hope he’s okay…!

You sigh, making your way down the stairs to the ground floor and meeting Alastor, Angel, and Charlie outside.

“That really wasn’t necessary…!” you scold, rubbing at your forehead in disappointment.

Alastor ignores you.  “Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor!” he proclaims.

“Wait, you’re leaving!?” Vaggie shouts, running outside to see the damage, “Alastor, we need your help!  We need you to do your job.”

“We need a wall,” Angel points out helpfully.

“Of course!” Alastor agrees, turning back around, “Can’t let my new project fall into disrepair already!  What would the papers say?”  For the second time today, he summons some voodoo minions and sends them to work rebuilding the wall Pentious blew up, before leaving.

“Okay,” you sigh, turning your back on Angel as he flirts with one of Alastor’s more muscular minions, “Okay.  This is fine!”

You tiredly make your way to your room, flopping bonelessly face-first onto your cloud-soft bed.  With a wave of your hand, the wallpaper changes from blood-red to sky-blue.  You sigh, face buried in the mattress for a few more seconds before rolling over and pulling out the smartphone Gabriel gave you before you left for your mission.

It’s a special phone, one Gabriel made himself, that can send and receive signals across realms.  It’s your one connection to the other angels in Heaven.  It’s also a valuable resource for learning about Hell.

You fiddle with the phone, managing to get it to receive a signal from a random radio station down here in Hell.  There’s not much playing on it right now, just some soft background jazz.  You listen for a moment before your gut tells you to turn on the small television in your room.

You turn it on and switch the channel until you find an animated TV-headed demon reporting on… Alastor?

“... and we’re reporting on a certain has-been who has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven-year absence.  Did anybody miss him?  Did anybody notice?  More on tonight’s program!”  The news banner below the caster reads ‘UNREMARKABLE LOSER BACK FROM FUCKING OFF’.

A week ago, your stomach would have flipped at the foul language, but you’ve actually gotten used to it by now.  You squint at the display on the TV, curious, but also wary.  The language being used in this ‘news’ segment seems awfully… manipulative.

“So the Radio Demon is back in town.

“Why is he hanging around?

“What does that mean for your family?

“Well, handily, I’ve got good news:

“He’s a loser, a fossil, and I don’t mean to sound hostile

“But the demon is a coward!” the TV demon sings.

Your eyes narrow.  Is this… propaganda?  You shift to sit cross-legged on your bed, resting your head on your palm as the TV demon carries on.

“While he hid in radio

“We pivoted to video

“Now his medium is gettin' bloody rare!

“Hell's been better since he split

“Where's he been?

“Who gives a shit!”

Suddenly, the jazz playing from your phone stops, replaced by Alastor’s voice:

“Salutations!

“Good to be back on the air!”

You raise an eyebrow as Alastor speaks over the radio waves.

“Is Vox insecure? Pursuing allure?

“Flitting between this fad and that, is nothin' working?”

Your eyes flicker back to the television, where the TV demon is looking flustered and is desperately trying to maintain control of his program.  Clearly, he can hear Alastor’s rebuttals.

You watch carefully, studying the demon’s tone and body language.

“Is Vox as strong as he purports?” Alastor’s voice asks.

“Or is it based on his support?

“He'd be powerless without the other Vees!”

So the TV demon is Vox, you note, and he knows Alastor…

“And here's the sugar on the cream:

“He asked me to join his team!

“I said no, and now he's pissy, that's the tea!”

Realization dawns on you as the public revelation causes Vox to completely lose his cool.  Oh my gosh!

“You old-timey prick!” Vox growls, his voice glitching out.

“I'll show you suffering!”

He likes him!  

“Uh oh,” Alastor feigns concern, “the TV is buffering!”

“I’LL DESTROY YOU-U-U-U…!” The TV loses signal, the screen now displaying nothing but static.

Or did…?  Maybe still does?  You stand from your bed, turning your phone’s radio app off, shell-shocked.  Does Alastor even know? you wonder.  

You look out your window to find Pentagram City in black-out.  “Huh… power’s out… everywhere… except the hotel…?”

You make a note to talk to Alastor about this later.