#/ alastor intruded event.

[voxxisms]

@radiiosugars stepped up to alastor !! guest muse event ( currently accepting! ) Alexander yanks Vox away from the new alternate, stepping between them. " And what do you think you're doing, hm? Touching what's mine? "

     OH - HO!  It looked as though Vox had friends,  now that something was happening.  He was not all too unfamiliar with the concept of a multiverse colliding,  something Vox,  in their older times,  used to ramble on about when he did take a few moments to tune in to his silly little thoughts  &&  info - dumps.  Vox was pulled away,  with this  ...  other version of himself stepping between them.  Alastor kept his gaze squarely settled on Vox's expression,  seeing the confusion,  putting together puzzle pieces.  It appeared to be surprising to him,  at least,  but there was something else here,  too.

        ❝  Why,  Vox!  You never told me you had made a friend in my absence!  And for it to be,  in essence,  myself,  you are quite the perverted mind,  aren't you?  I sure hope he hasn't subjected you to the things he has me,  what with his pathetic little obsession.  ❞

You will have things to answer for,  Vox.  To explain.

     Alastor settled his hands atop his staff,  gaze traveling over this alternate's form.  A softer set of features,  certainly,  pretty,  perhaps,  was a good word for it.  

        ❝  You call him yours,  which is very interesting,  considering he has been mine quite a bit longer.  Or,  at least,  that's what he wishes.  You are more than welcome to make off with him,  if you so choose,  although why you would want to,  I am so very curious!  He is the noisiest,  most obnoxious man I've had the displeasure of meeting!  ❞

Laughter echoing out of his staff,  offered alongside his own amusement.  Vox looked deeply uncomfortable,  though he remained beside the other demon in the room.  How annoying.

[schrodinger-swriter]

I am going to give you freedom and allow you to pick three prompts and three letters (or just one or the other) for one of your favorite characters that you haven’t done because that sounds fun

Prompts 8 9 and 13 with Sir Pentious

I hope you don't mind me just doing the tropes post! I think Sir Pentious had most of the letters completed for him in the alphabet... or maybe I'm confusing him with Lucifer...

If anyone is interested in the tropes list as well as the fluff alphabet, you can find both of them linked at the bottom of both Helluva Hotel masterlists!

Mutual Pining:

I hadn't realized that I'd done this as it's own post a while ago, so here is the link!

Drunken Confession:

Pentious is the one to confess to you. He cannot hold his alcohol well, becoming drunk after a few drinks... and boy does he get emotional.. Any shame he might feel when he's sober is completely out of the picture, leaving him to bluntly gush about you to your face and to anyone who will listen. Many get annoyed with him fairly fast, leaving him to mumble into the bar's counter... completely unaware that you're within ear shot. Even if he was aware, he doesn't care all that much. Liquid courage, as they call it. He wouldn't try much of anything other than simply babbling his thoughts about you out loud, before promptly puking on the floor and maybe crying after.

Bathing Together:

He nearly refuses to take a bath with you because he doesn't want you to feel like he's intruding in on your privacy... even if you invited him to join you. He does eventually warm up to the idea, though. He has to bunch his tail up so you can both fit in the tub. He... tries to insist that you don't need to help him, but he won't turn down helping you. Blindly, of course, because his hood is fanned over his face as an effort to be.. "decent" when you turn to face him in the bath. Very shy about it buy very polite, he's totally beet red the entire event..

[that-ari-blogger]

A Discussion Of LavenderTowne and Hazbin Hotel

So, a little while ago, a YouTube channel called LavenderTowne ventured into the Hazbin Hotel fan space to propose some criticisms and fan redesigns of the characters.

I had thoughts on the original video, but those are irrelevant because its reception was… tumultuous, and in my opinion disproportionate. The video has since been taken down, and LavenderTowne uploaded a follow up to it (link). In which she stated that her experience with the Hazbin Hotel fandom wasn’t the most pleasant, something I would like to address.

So, this post will be an academic discussion of the designs from the second video. Because I think her criticisms were interesting and because I want to show that it is possible to disagree with someone without being unpleasent.

Also, I want to give LavenderTowne a more welcoming experience with the fandom, and try to make up for some other members of the community.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (Hazbin Hotel)

I'm going to start with something that needs to be said. You can disagree with the rest of my post, but this is non negotiable:

It is never, under any circumstances, acceptable to harass someone for their opinions, especially about art. I don't care if you take issue with conclusions or perceived motivations, actions like I observed are not ok, and are not welcome in this fandom.

I hope I made that clear.

Anyway, I am going to be addressing the second video, because LavenderTowne took the first down, and I'm not about to intrude where I'm not wanted.

LavenderTowne mentioned the overarching stylistic choices, and I think that is a good place to start with this post, because they are good source of difference. Several of LavenderTowne’s criticisms are leveled at the Hazbin Hotel visual style itself, discussing what specific elements didn’t work for her and how she would personally draw things differently.

That is what I want to discuss here. Rather than the specifics of artistic technique, I am going to talk about the character design decisions brought about by the difference in style. This isn’t a question of skill, but an examination of the ideas presented.

Both LavenderTowne’s style and that of the Hazbin Hotel team range on the scale of realism, as is the nature of art, and that has caused a few of the design decisions that they have made. But it has also had a weird effect on the implied plot that is worth discussing.

Hazbin Hotel is more cartoony, for example, which means its logic is a bit more fluid. Vaggie's eye scar, for example, is shown over her hair, which isn’t how scars work in the real world.

This is a way of getting the tone across. Sir Pentious, at one point in the series, gets caught in the blast of an explosion and sent flying across the city. The design style lets you know that this is being played for a laugh and that he will probably be fine. If LavenderTowne had drawn Sir Pentious in her style, I guarantee that version of him would not survive the event, because hers is grittier (that’s the wrong word, but you get the point).

I do, however, really like the colour palette shift in LavenderTowne’s designs. Don’t get me wrong, I like the limited palette of the actual show, and I think it suits the setting more than the pastel aesthetic of LavenderTowne’s style.

But, those pastel colours are gorgeous and they are a really neat way of solving one of the problems that LavenderTowne identified and I agree with, that being how difficult character differentiation is when everyone has the same colouration as each other and their background.

Now, neither of the two options are implicitly better, there is just a different design sensibility going on.

As for the designs themselves, I actually prefer LavenderTowne’s Alastor over the original. I would like to see how it interacts with Alastor animation and transformation, but I think the design overall works better for the character. I like the horns being more pronounced, and I like that neat hairstyle. I think it's much more suited to an overly refined character who revolves around appearances.

“Just because you see a smile, don’t think you know what’s going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool, my dear! It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing, and ensures that no matter what comes your way, you’re the one in control.”

I think that Alastors original hair style is more about looking cool than looking refined. The shorter style, combined with the more prominent antlers, gives that air of someone actively concealing their more wild undercurrents.

That being said, I'm not as sold on Alastor's expression in LavenderTowne's design. This is a stylistic choice, but I don't think that the Cheshire Cat smile translates over to the alternate design as smoothly as his concept. In the original, that smile was the thing that denoted him as malicious, but LavenderTowne's design seems more huggable, at least to me.

LavenderTowne did raise an interesting point about the voodoo symbolism, a point that others have raised, and I think is worth noting. Incorporating that aesthetic as synonymous with dark magic in a setting based heavily off Christianity is funky, thematically. It's a use of stereotypes as shorthand, which carries the baggage of those stereotypes, intentionally or not. However, I am about as far from qualified to talk about this in detail as possible. I recommend that you listen to the opinions of people who know more about this than me, and who's case this is to make.

Husk’s design is another that I like, but this one I have slightly mixed feelings about. The body type change addresses another of LavenderTowne's criticisms of the series, again in relation to character differentiation. That is a strength of the video, LavenderTowne gives criticisms, and explains what she means and how she would go about doing it.

Interestingly, that body type issue is something I disagree with. I think the way that LavenderTowne has handled the issue she identified is fascinating, and one of the best parts of her process. But this is simply an issue I don’t see as a problem.

The criticism is that the silhouettes of the characters are exceedingly similar, meaning that identifying them is difficult, as well as limiting in terms of variety of proportions. I could point out Sir Pentious or Husk here, but that is arguing in bad faith because Husk is very clearly the exception to the rule, and Pentious actually conforms to her observation. Without his hood out, Pentious’ silhouette difference is in his tail, which is rarely onscreen.

The reason I am ok with this, is that Hazbin Hotel has a thing for transforming character designs. Charlie, Valentino, Emily and Serah, Lucifer, even Adam, Vaggie, and Lute, as well as a ton of others. All of these character designs shift as the story progresses, revealing aspects of them that they have kept secret. I like having the baseline similarities if everyone gets a moment where they show off how different they are from that baseline. I think that is a cool story beat that, for me at least, outweighs the problem of similarity. I’m sure LavenderTowne would disagree with me here, and that is more than fine.

Back to the point, Husk is a character who is surprisingly acrobatic and martially competent, and the slight shift in the alternative design switches him into more of a bar brawl type character. This feels like the guy who would just deck you and tell you to cool off, rather than throw something at you. He looks like the type of bartender he is, cool and calm, and ready to offer advice when needed.

The removal of the wings is an interesting choice. On the one hand, it clears up his design and makes him look more down to earth. On the other hand, it leads into my main bugbear with this design. I don't think this version of Husk looks like an overlord.

This is subjective, and I am struggling to quite explain it. But the wings, as well as his voice, give a sense of gravitas to Husk. Without that, Husk looks relatively unremarkable.

The outfit plays into this. While I prefer it and its subtlety, there is little that marks this version of Husk out as higher ranking.

Again, this isn't a case of the original designs being objectively better. This is a different design that communicates different things. LavenderTowne’s Husk is a humble bartender rather than an overlord playing pretend. I simply like the story that the original offers more.

Vaggie’s new design is both my favourite design of the four, and the one that is the furthest from the story of the show.

I love the quieter eye scar, I love the silhouette, and I think moving the ribbons to her back is a genius bit of visual storytelling.

The outfit is cool (I especially like those boots), but there's an asterisk to that, because I don't think it entirely suits Vaggie as she is presented in the show.

At the risk of oversimplifying, Vaggie is a fairly uncomplicated character. Not because she's written to be shallow, but because the show doesn't have time to explore her personality.

So, you get her past, which is fascinating, and it leaves some interesting things on the table.

For example, Vaggie has zero self preservation instinct and will burn herself to the ground for Charlie. This isn't complex, but it's remarkable how much the writers (and animators if you’re looking for that kind of thing) get out of this one detail.

Most notably, her character grows into realising that love means living for someone rather than dying to keep them safe. This culminates in the defeat of Lute, the embodiment of her past, who doesn't think to move out of the way of a collapsing building.

Similarly, Vaggie was an angel and wants to hide that aspect of herself. This makes her multifaceted in backstory, but the reveal doesn't have time to dwell on her characterisation, so it just feeds into what I said before.

I think that with another season of time to develop, Vaggie’s characterisation will become as complex as her backstory. But that doesn’t come quickly.

The point I am making is that I don't think this version of Vaggie would wear armour until the end. She doesn't think she can get killed, so why would she need to protect herself?

Which means that LavenderTowne's design would work for the last episode of the show, if it had wings, which is sacrificing the single best piece of foreshadowing I have seen in a long time. Seriously, I cannot stop gushing about those ribbons.

What we have, then, is a version of Vaggie with a slightly different story and personality. To me, LavenderTowne's Vaggie looks like a character who craves safety. She seeks Charlie because she offers emotional stability and kindness, the one person in hell who Vaggie doesn't think is against her. But she would wear the armour and outfit because of the injury. She realises she can be wounded and grabs the heaviest set she can find, the twin coloured trousers come from that desperation, and add to the imbalanced aspect of her design.

This version of Vaggie is defensive rather than offensive, and though it renders Out For Love obsolete, I find it more interesting than the original.

Charlie's design, however, I'm not such a big fan of. I'm sorry LavenderTowne, I really am. But this design really doesn't sit right with me.

Hazbin Hotel has a circus theme going on. The main foyer has a circus tent affectation, for example, and Charlie gives off the aesthetic of the ringmaster.

Charlie is very overtly the antithesis of a Disney princess, and that comes across in her design. Instead of wearing a floaty dress, she wears a suit and suspenders.

Yes, the hooves and horns being more prominent is a cool alteration that I appreciate, but the alternate outfit really doesn't feel like Charlie.

I think the difference is in the framing. To me, LavenderTowne's Charlie comes across as naive and optimistic, where the original design is more relentlessly hopeful, and that second one matches how she is in the series.

Charlie in Hazbin Hotel showcases true hope. Not optimism, hope. The type of emotion that keeps getting knocked down, but picks itself off the floor ever single time, and gets ready to try again. Charlie has no proof of her philosophy, no basis. She's not trying to recreate phenomena, she doesn't even know she can succeed. That's why she needs the hope.

I don't think that LavenderTowne's design has that vibe. Instead, this Charlie seems younger, which contributes to the naivety. It feels like it leans into her regular design, so the more fearsome transformation comes as a shock, mostly.

On the other hand, the three horn tiara element is genuinely really cool. It gives that air of reality, and hints at the transformation without giving it away. They round out the design and make the “this is a demon princess” clear.

Interactions between this Charlie and Adam, Lute, or Sarah would be interesting, as this version seems designed to foil off them, rather than the other way around. Especially Emily, this design seems genetically engineered to mirror her and make her question her ideals just through existing in the same place.

In short, this Charlie seems more gentle than the original, which might help in some aspects, but I prefer the original.

One again, this is my opinion, and not objective by any stretch of the imagination. If you disagree with me, good, that's the bread and butter of how analysis and discussion exists. But I hope I have shown that disagreement is possible without aggression.

Which brings me to my conclusion, and I have something here that I hope you will like.

LavenderTowne's designs feel like they are made for the same story, but paced differently. They feel like a different style of musical. They feel like they were made for a version of Hazbin Hotel that had more episodes and has time for subtlety, something that the original show unfortunately didn't have.

The story feels the same, but the minour changes make it seem more drawn out. The tone is different, and that effects the entirety of the rest of the story.

In other words, she is designing an AU, something she makes explicitly clear at least five times in her video.

LavenderTowne mentioned in her video that she might do a follow up with a few more characters. I would be intrigued to see this, because I want to know what Angel Dust would look like in this version of the story, as well as the actual angels and even the Vees.

I also am fascinated by how the art style affects the tone of the story. And with LavenderTowne's permission, I might have a crack at writing some of the key scenes from the show to fit this aesthetic and tone. I think that would be an interesting thought experiment.

Final Thoughts

LavenderTowne’s designs were dope as all hell, and the points she raised were worth discussing.

I love the series, but I understand that it's not everyone’s cup of tea. Content warnings should get that across, but also some people just won't like elements of it for any number of reasons, and that is ok.

I think @ohnoitstbskyen put it best in his discussion of the finale of the series. (Link). In his closing remarks, he spoke at length about people who will discover the show and the effect that it will have on them. That sentiment, boiled down, became the title of that video, and concisely says what I have taken just under 3000 words to talk around.

“This show will save someone’s life, but it isn’t for everyone.”

But let me be clear about why I wrote this.

I saw some of the shit that people wrote about LavenderTowne's original video, and though a lot of it was positive, a fair chunk was not, and I want to put my foot down. Disagreement about art is healthy, but if you think that involves harassment at all, then tell Husk he still owes me a drink.

On a lighter note, this is my first post about Hazbin Hotel, so for those who are reading my stuff for the first time, hello. I am Ari, I do media analysis, and I plan on doing a series on Hazbin Hotel, going through each song with lyrical and musical analysis once I finish my current one on Wicked. So, if that interests you, maybe stick around.

Next

[radioiaci]

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝕽𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝕭𝖆𝖑𝖑 - Open Starter

[ Preface: Alastor is in attendance as Rosie's ( @cannibalxroses ) spouse in this universe. They have been both privately and publicly announced as a married pair. This thread is open for interaction with any others who are attending the ball and are okay with this setup! ] [ Alastor's Masquerade Outfit ]

He is hovering.

Though he's been in attendance at Rosie's side for the majority of the night, he has allowed her to drift and mingle as needed. But he is close by, only opting to speak in friendly candor when approached, but otherwise lingering like a stone monolith, both keeping an eye on the door for any unwanted intruders and on Rosie for any indications that he is needed at her side. But she is an expert in the art of the affair; he will not pretend that he is necessary to remain so rooted at her side.

Unless asked, of course.

In his hand, he nurses a drink, though it's not quite clear whether it's one of the red wine variety or if it is actually some of the offered blood beverage. He will keep all guessing as to which. Alastor will not be giving away the secret. (He enjoys just the touch of mystery, given that it is quite obvious as to who he is beneath the motif of his mask.)

But he is quite pleased that, thus far, the evening's festivities seem to be going off without a hitch. Pleased on Rosie's behalf, really.

As he orbits the room, he will continue to observe, looking for all of the world like a circling vulture to prey upon the corpse of any creature or thing that could threaten to subvert all of Rosie's work and dedication to the event.

He will not allow any of that, so long as he is watching.

And he will certainly enjoy the music and the fare in the meantime.

[hellishradio]

🖋️ Rave club , bro would die tbh

# ALASTOR AT A . . RAVE?

no pairing — just a silly oneshot of just alastor being annoyed at a rave — features the appearance of a certain cursed cat — not proofread — 1.3k words — may appear ooc

✶ UNDER THE CUT !

sorry this took so long, anon! i was initially gonna write around 500 words but i got carried away and ended up adding on and on .. i did try to not go overboard though! i also wrote him in an actual rave than a rave club because i thought it'd be more fun hehe

please read it lightly, i did not proof read and kind of wrote everything quickly in one sitting, may appear a bit rushed :')

notice for those who don't know this account: this is not a writing account but an askblog, this oneshot is something i wrote for an event!

Sounds of loud bustling echoed within the bright neon premises that displayed in front. Hues of bloody red and witching purples shining diagonally in the velvet skies of Hell. Dangling charms could be heard when the performer ( a certain pink succubus ) danced around the stage as the microphone magnified the jewel's volume. She swayed in a circular rhythm, and the crowd sang her name louder with every syllable in her song.

Though everything was muffled for the certain radio demon in the area. Which was rather fortunate, any more of this sensual-smooth-pop nonsense would've given him a headache for eternity. The rave was large, open, and most conspicuously and most tragically– at the same time– filled with sinners that had nothing better to do than to get blackout drunk at a party. Also known as: the simplest forms of stupidity, one of many characteristics that Alastor hated the most.

Though his duties as a co-hotelier gave him no choice but to stay, Charlie has personally requested– No– Begged for him to assist and protect the staff and residents at the neon-lit massacre. Though now it felt more like babysitting than assisting. How long has he been internally cursing this hellscape? Long enough to the point where everyone else had ran some other way, even Husk who had been twitching his eyes beside the man had left.

The sunset-colored radiance rearranged itself into a vibrating azure spotlight, and all at once the stage fire flickered on command. Even the farmost backside of the party was huddled with feral sinners, triggering even more heavy exhales out of the demon’s mouth. Alastor stood amidst it all, his features shrouded in dim glows, emotionally detached from the lively atmosphere the rave provided. Melodies intruding his bones rather than a source of enjoyment, with air getting thicker with the scent of sweat and alcohol, mingling with the plastic tang of artificial smoke. Airs of Hell were not pleasant as it was, but this almost felt assaulting. A part of him wanted to wipe the horde clean, but he reasoned that that would bring the hotel a bad name if word ever got out.

Couldn't he just leave as well? Though then he'd have to endure the princess’ long talk about how she's sorry for taking him to a place where he didn't want to go. A long sigh of breath left his lips as he straightened his bowtie, his eyes blinking in slow motion. First things first, find the location of everyone, then maybe he can just watch from afar. Ah, right, Charlie had said something about going to the frontal row of the sector with her sweetheart. Well that's one chore taken off his list. How ironic it was, how he went from being a serial killer who took lives to someone who’s supposedly “protecting” others.

A loud ring of the speakers clang against his ears, his ears instinctively twitching in response. His ultimate reaction being that he should simply get this over with as soon as possible. Now to find the roset spider, perhaps it'll be easier to find if he went somewhere up higher.

With an intention, Alastor’s physique morphed into the shadows, his vision blurring in a familiar motion. He traveled from silhouette to silhouette until he found himself on top of the metal bars of the podium where no one could spot him. He had the full view of the rave, from the portion of the horde passing out to the mindless drunkards at the bar. Neon streaks painted unique patterns across the skies, casting eerie shadows which danced in sync with the music which only deepened his sense of irritation.

He eyed the bar which had been stationed on the east coast of the party until he spotted the known pornstar and the hotel's overworked bartender. Ah, was that the snake beside them as well? Great! Now to find Niffty.

His vision outlined the entire premise, but to no sighting of the rouge-haired cyclops. Though it already would have been impossible to notice her petite form amongst all these sinners. Alastor's eyes spasmed at just the thought of going down there again. But alas, it couldn't be helped. He distorted back into shadow until he returned to the first-POV scene of the gathering.

Alastor turned his heels to take a step until an imp with white on their left eye shoved against him, Alastor's eyebrows frowning in pure annoyance. He didn't have the time nor the space in his psyche to deal with any no-lifes, his temper was thinning. His glare illuminated a shade of threatening red.

The imp squared up in an attitude, “ Hey! What you lookin’ down at, red bastard-” Alastor was only a second away from ending the poor individual’s life until a different imp with white freckles swiftly covered the blunt man's mouth.

“ Moxxie! This freak clearly bumped into me- ”

“ Sir! That- That's the radio demon! ” The smaller imp whispered against the ear of another.

“ The who? Doesn't matter, I'm gonna kill this old bitch- ”

The white freckled hellborn shoved the other aside before he could finish his sentence.

“ Ahaha.. Sorry. Erm.. Radio Demon. Sir. He’s just- haven't had his medication yet! ” He grasped his hands together in apology, his expression hinting a face of fear and desperacy. Before Alastor could say a word of warning, his sight landed on a little red haired creature running below the masses.

“ Oh don't worry my gentlemen! Now if you'll excuse me, I am quite occupied, haha. ” Alastor then speed walked in the direction the figure followed, leaving the two imps who were now yelling at each other over the identity of the cannibalistic overlord.

At the end of his step, he found a certain red furred.. cat? Huh, why is it wearing a monocle? Alastor narrowed his eyes, it seems that mistakes become more common for him in such an environment. Oh doesn't matter, he still needed to find the mini cyclops. Wait- what time is it? The flashing lights and extreme volumes of music were interfering with his sense of time and space. What is this, some sort of horrid after-effect of being part deer? He hadn’t even noticed how his audio went numb from an overload of pounding electric basses. How idiotic.

“...—tor! — Alastor! Where are you— ” A familiar voice called his name from behind, he snapped his neck behind to be faced with the blonde-belle. “ There you are, we were all looking for you! ” Charlie exclaimed with a smile, the other members of the staff following up behind her.

Angel Dust added on, “ Smiles, where were ya? We thought ya’d be off in some dark corner being all creep n’ shit! You were in the middle the whole time? Didn't see you as the type to enjoy this typa thing! ”

Alastor’s smile twitched in displeasure, though his usual expression remained unfaded, “ Sorry my folks, perhaps I’ve lost myself in the blinding lights, haha! Will we be leaving now, dears? ”

“ Leave? We just got here not even an hour ago, toots! Princess here earned us a VIP spot right in front of the stage with her blue-blood title, and she didn't want ya to wonder all by yerself! ” The pink arachnida swayed his hips with a smug grin, all arms handled on his waist.

“ Wait-! You don't have to stay if you're uncomfortable, Al! Don't force yourself. ” Gentle words of affirmation from Charlie registered into Alastor's ears like sounds of claws gnawing on a chalkboard. Was she pitying him? Now he quite had no choice but to stay at this place worse than the lowest levels of Hell, at least if he didn't want the others to condolence his state of disturbance and annoyance.

“ Haha! It's nothing I can't handle, sweetheart! Now shall we get going? ” The overlord gritted a smile, emitting an ominous laid-back word. When in reality, Alastor had never cussed something so much in his life and afterlife.

hopefully that was readable in the slightest haha, i've never wrote something like this before! i haven't also written something more than 300 words in a few months so i've rusted 😔

🖊 — writing reqsㅤ|ㅤcheck out the event!ㅤ|ㅤ100f event

[rileyglas]

Demonic Convergence - Pt. 2 - A Cold Welcome

Hazbin Hotel OC Story x Alastor

@laudrawin did another uh-mazing piece for Part Two! This story is slowly building and I'm so excited to be building it with you!!! Althea and Vexel cross paths once again. In an intense conversation, they learn more about each other and find they are slowly obtaining a common enemy. Story below the cut!

Meet the OCs Pt. 1 - First Impressions

Vexel sat in his chair mulling over the events of Cannibal town. ~Those damn cannibals had some senseless resistance, I need to know more about it. They seemed to obey that woman. Atletha? Altaria? It started with an A. ~ 

He takes some time to note everything down in his journal, including the never ending list of questions. Who is this Vox man? How could Alastor be so arrogant yet so weak? Why did that woman want to keep her power a secret? The last one did have a pretty obvious answer, it was probably the same reason that he kept to himself. Stay unnoticed and keep ahold of whatever freewill this Hell allows. 

Too many questions and not enough answers. He needed to know more. Grabbing a loose piece of paper he jots down a letter and seals it with his magic. Now to get it to Althea. “Heniffer, come here please.” 

Althea sits sipping her tea next to the wooded bayou in her and Alastor's room. The peaceful quiet is abruptly interrupted by a sudden thud on the bed. The same bird seen with Vexel the other day now screeches in a panic, entwined in the sheets. 

"Oh hey woah! Chill, I got you." she coos, unraveling the bird from its binds. In her attempts to free it, she doesn't notice Vexel's note fly off the bed. 

Looking up, she sees a portal still open as the bird jumps in vain attempting to get back where it came from. "Would you like a hand dear?" she asks. The bird squawks in response. 

Althea picks her up and climbs through the portal into what appears to be a study or library. Books filled every wall with more stacked in piles scattered around the dimly lit room. She takes a moment to look around, amazed by the ancient scripts around her. The hotel had a library but nothing like this. She'd kill for even ten minutes with some of these books. 

Heniffer flies out of Althea’s arms, clumsily bonking the back of Vexel’s head. He turns around and his veins run cold. ~What is she doing here?~ 

He takes a seat at his desk, "You're not meant to be here. Try not coming through next time." His eyes glow as a portal opens under her feet in an attempt to send her back. Althea jumps onto a stack of books nearby to evade it, "Excuse me! Need you be reminded you intruded on me first? What's the deal?" she snaps, annoyed by his less than warm welcome.

He shrugs in response, "Sent a letter, had no pigeons." He lifts an eyebrow and rises from his chair. His eyes bounce between the portal and Althea, who was still in awe over the tomes around her. The portal closes, "Unless it's healing them, don't touch my books. Why staying?"

A smirk crosses her face. "Didn't see letter. Your “not pigeon” sucks. Give summary." she returns in the same cadence he gave her. Heniffer's skull turns 180 degrees, hissing disapprovingly at Althea’s comment. She looks at the chicken, "Oh calm down, you're adorable. You just suck as a messenger." she says coolly, trying to smooth over her words. 

"In summary?" Vexel’s voice drops to a more serious tone, "Screen man has contacted me. And he was very much interested in you and your pup. And the control I had over him."

Her eyes move to Vexel, chest tightening at the thought he might have given Vox exactly what he asked for, "First of all...Alastor isn't my dog. He's my - something...Doesn't matter. What did you tell him!? I need to know so I can prepare for that asshole to attack us again."

"Something meaning you’re imbeciles in love? No offense of course. And Vox wants my help in getting control over your dog. Curious, why did he let me take control? Is he that arrogant or was he testing me back...? " His mind wanders in theories for a moment. He returns to his chair behind the desk, "The coward TV didn't dare to speak to me face to face, just in case I controlled him too."

She scoffs at his arrogance and naivety, "From the sounds of it you and my dog...which again he's not...are more alike than you think. Both cocky, powerful, unamused by the idea of love..." she pauses with a slight laugh, trying to find the right words.

"I owed you a favor and now it's paid." his voice returns to its chilly tone. 

Althea realizes she must speak carefully in order to maintain what little face she has with this man. "Look, you didn't owe me in the first place, however you've far from done any favors." She steps off the book pile and walks towards his desk in the middle of the room, "If anything your little show only puts you and Alastor in more danger. Vox is a part of the Vee's. Him and his little posse aren't ones to be fucked with....”

She rubs the back of her neck uncomfortably, “Speaking of, what WAS that demonstration?"

He lifts his chin in a show of superiority. "You healed me without a reason, passing some information seemed fair enough." He closes his book and slides it across the desk to her. Looking closer she sees it’s a necromancy book. Her hand runs over the cover, "Fascinating..." she breathes.

An unamused snort comes from Vexel, "So the idea of me? In danger? All Vox was shouting about was destroying your sinner-boy! I'm in no danger, unless you put me in it." He tilts his head, tapping the book, "I'm a necromancer. I brought the dead back to serve me when I was alive. Now everybody here is technically dead. Who knows, with enough power I could rule over Hell. From the shadows of course." 

Her eyes stay locked on the book as she mulls over his words. He was cocky, maybe even more so than Alastor. He can control the dead, which is powerful indeed. But here in Hell there is always a limit. 

"Foolishness will only get you killed. Fuck with the wrong people and they will destroy your soul. No more fun, no more power." she says, frustration rising in her voice. "As for ruling over Hell....I have a hard time believing someone who couldn't even hold their own against a few lowly Cannibals would last five minutes against Vox, let alone take over anything."

She locks eyes with the necromancer, "I wouldn't put you between anything, but it's too late now. You're on his radar. You either join him or..." she shoves the book back towards him, "...you're only good to him dead."

"I could have killed those cannibals, but that wasn't my plan... Learning from mistakes, however, is a great skill." He stares at the book, then takes a deep breath as he stretches his back, a loud crack echoing through the room. "My theory is that souls get judged and sent back to hell when they die. However it would be a pity to lose all of my... potential." He stands up, now stretching his arms, maintaining an unphased expression, "I start with a V too, what's the problem? They're clearly the winning side, we had a favor for a favor, Atlantis. Why should I not join them? What knowledge can you offer me?"

An uncontrollable laugh bubbles out of Althea, "You know what - go ahead. Go meet the V's. Enjoy their little fuckfests they have with each other. You aren't one who strikes me as a porn fan but hey I've been wrong before. I'm sure you'd be a wonderful power bottom in their freaky little love triangle. While you're at it, ask them what happened the last time they tried to fuck with Alastor and I." She turns her back to him, hiding how much she would love to teach this arrogant son of a bitch a lesson in humility, "Last I checked the 'winning side' doesn't beg for others to help them control their opponent."

Vexel picks up a book from a nearby shelf, mumbling under his breath, "Let's see... I bet I can fully control your Alastor in a matter of weeks." His head remains buried in the book, pretending to read as his irises glow with power. Althea begins to feel the tip of her fingers going numb, magic threads trying to embrace her body.

She keeps her back to Vexel, knowing he is attempting to take control. Chess has always been her favorite game. She allows the threads to tighten and the numbness to travel up her arms. ~You always have to sacrifice a few pawns to get where you need to be. Come on, take the bait.~ 

"Just like that?" He whispers to himself, seeing how easily she allows him into her mind. The handcuffs that so easily contained Alastor were no more than weak threads on her, ones she could break anytime. ~ I can't look for a crack if she just allows me in like this.~ 

"You apparently haven't learned from your mistakes," she says quietly, feeling his control starting to fade, "You have a terrible habit of underestimating people. Having too much pride is quite unbecoming."

She frees her hands with a swift jerking motion but doesn't turn to face him yet. Anxiously, she rubs her hands together trying to shake the feeling of him, "Things work differently here. Try this shit on the wrong person and that's it. You need a safer way of testing your abilities and their limits."

He tilts his head with curiosity, "The cannibals resisted better than your deer boy somehow. The only limit I’ve seen is that my abilities only work on sinners, no hellborns. And seems like the more recent arrivals are the easier they are to control. Regardless, I remain confident in my skills." He lifts his chin, eyes glowing for a moment.

Althea takes in his words. ~The longer someone is here, the less power he holds. Looks like he starts fizzling out around 120 years if the cannibals gave him a hard time.~

She scoffs and shakes her head, "Yeah...looked real confident with your back against the wall, cowering away from a small woman's touch - " a needle appears in her hand. She swiftly turns around, holding it close to his throat. " - and you'll be even more useless against the Exorcists." She says through a smirk. 

"I was beaten down! You felt my pain, didn't you? Would you have been able to cast a thing in that state?" He grunts defensively. "A simple touch could be deadly here. Being cautious doesn't equal being a coward" He stands still for a moment, lifting an eyebrow to the sharp point she holds to him, "Threatening me in my own place? How stupid of you. Is that what you call yourself? An exorcist?" His cold stare matches his gesture, with the back of two fingers he moves away the needle, delivering a warning whip of his necromancy and slashing through her own magic. 

Althea can't fight the smile stretching across her face in pure amusement. Her cool tone reflects how relaxed she suddenly feels, "Relax Gene Simmons...I'm not trying to bash your obviously fragile ego. I understand being cautious, I just wish you would at least try to hear me out on how things work here." She steps around him, keeping a comfortable distance. Making her way to his desk, she delicately moves aside some books before sitting herself on top and crossing her legs. 

"You say you can't control hellborns...I'd imagine Angels would be just as impossible. Every year, self proclaimed Exorcists come down from Heaven and brutally attack the sinners that run the streets. They show no mercy, no grace. Last time they took out nearly twenty percent of the population." she shuffles uncomfortably at the idea of losing so many. She knows she can't save everyone but it still bothers her when she speaks about it. 

"It's Vexel" He grunts, not catching the name reference. He glares disapprovingly at her blatant disrespect of climbing on his desk. 

Back at the hotel, Alastor walks into the empty room. As he makes his way towards the table his brows furrow. A half full cup of tea remained along with Althea's book thrown to the floor. His eyes are pulled to the side of the disheveled bed to a small rolled up piece of paper. He cautiously unravels the note: 

Greetings, Althea. In doing the simplest of research I found your residence in that Hotel. Since we met last week, I didn’t have the need to contact you until now. Remember that flying machine that saw me getting control of your deer pup? It seems like it belongs to someone named Vox who is a part of "The Vs". I found it curious that their little group started with V! I could only assume that's why they invited me in. Or maybe because I managed to take control of your pocket sinner. Apparently they are deadly enemies of some sort, I could believe the screened face man has some sort of fetish over him, he was awfully obsessed with Alasturd.  Take this as my repayment for the help you offered. Vox is looking for someone more powerful than that overconfident static voice guy. Someone who can beat him down and I would assume kill him as well.  Have a nice day, and don't get too anxious about it. Vox sounded like he got hammered by him before.  Note: If Heniffer couldn't reach the portal, help her out.

Alastor growls through gritted teeth. He crumples the note, irritated by Vox's need to put his nose where it doesn't belong and by Vexel's sheer audacity to undermine him. "Pocket sinner!? What in Hell's name is a 'Heniffer'?" he sneers under his breath. Though seething, the real problem weighed heavy on his chest - where was Althea now and was she safe. 

He paces his bedroom trying to concentrate, trying to see if he could sense her anywhere within the city. ~At least I can tell she isn't near Vox right now~ Pausing for a moment, he nods to his shadow, sending it out in search of her while he continues pacing, trying to feel her presence.

"If those exorcists are dead human souls, I should be able to control them all the same. Perhaps they work differently, I'd need three to five test subjects to make sure.” he returns to sit behind his desk, taking the space furthest from Althea to place his notebook.

“If time works the same as here, which I assume it does since you spoke about a year, it should be as easy as with sinners. If they are heaven born though, I can only assume I wouldn’t be able to do much." A necromantic orb spawns on his hand. He sends it into a wall that lights up and changes to reveal a lab of sorts. Corpses of imps and other different hellborns float there, preserved. He sees the horror across Althea’s face, "Relax, I’m not a killer. It’s easy to acquire corpses around here with the daily assaults between demons." 

The necromancer's eyes shine, empowering the corpses to come back to life. They pass through the crystal-like wall. "Ask them anything, they keep their memory, but their souls were released long ago." 

"Wow..." Althea breathes, bringing her legs up in a crisscross position on the desk and ignoring Vexel's space.  Resting her chin on her hands, her eyes light up like a child. She ignores the grunts of annoyance behind her to admire the power he has over the corpses. 

In front of her stood four very different bodies. A jackal-like hellhound, a small male imp with white hair and a crooked horn, an incubus lacking an eye, and a huge baphomet. "Incredible. Truly..." her amazement slowly fades to sadness, realizing his comment on souls and, much to his dismay, recognizing one of them. 

"Unfortunately I haven't gathered an overlord just yet. Nor a deadly sin, an owl man or a fallen angel.” Vexels chimes from behind the desk. 

She looks over her shoulder to him, trying to hide the pang that hits her chest.  "So they're just....empty? Nothing but...flesh puppets under your command?" The soul is a powerful thing, something she always considered sacred. It has always been part of her motivation in helping sinners survive and, now with Charlie, possibly find redemption for their souls.

"These are but husks of what they once were. Puppets indeed." He walks over to them, studying each one. "If they're dead, the soul doesn't usually stick around. The longer they've been dead, the less soul. Heniffer in an exception to the rule." He turns to look at her, his eyes lit again. "It works slightly differently with those who are still alive here. If I take control of your pet, he'll recover his senses as soon as I release him, just like how it happened in Cannibal Town. I push his soul to take place of it, but it still watches and feels"

Althea lets out the breath she didn't realize she was holding, finding some comfort in his words. Pushing herself off his desk she can't help feel a pull to help Vexel expand his knowledge. With his power stopping short of Hellborns and older souls, there isn't a worry for him to take over any time soon. 

Stepping towards him, she tries to don a soft voice, "The Exorcists are different. Older. Adam chooses only the best from the oldest of the Angels. I fear you won't have much pull with them. And I don't know if it's worth the risk to try for any 'test subjects'." 

She looks to Heniffer and smiles, the little skeleton already growing on her. "Look I can tell you're about as dry as week old toast, but humor me for a moment - what exactly do you want Vexel? To team up with a bunch of self serving, less than prestige Overlords? Or do you want an opportunity to learn and study alongside someone who has already proven they are more than willing to help you? And don't give me that 'all knowing, I can do it myself' shit because you obviously have a lot you don't know about Hell." 

He taps his finger to his chin, "So Adam was real? Curious, I've always believed in evolution. I have the feeling it's pretty hard to kill an angel, I haven't seen anything after the last extermination. Not a single feather."

His pulls his eyes back to her, forcing the corpses  to do the same, "Now we seem to be on the same page." He tilts his head a bit, the slightest of the smirks on his face. "Am I not helping you already? Telling you about Vox's intentions?" His smirk grows. "I already picked a side, you and your pup are more... interesting. And if my tests go wrong I’d benefit greatly from having my own personal healer." 

Her arms cross confidently in front of her chest, moving forward in a test of his boundaries, "I should note Alastor and myself are Overlords as well...and I'd be willing to allow you to use him as a 'test'." her voice moves up an octave, almost teasing the idea like candy to a child. He steps backwards, crossing his arms in defense. His eyes narrow towards her, "What's this trick?" 

A smug grin tugs at the corners of her mouth and she raises an eyebrow, "You only prove my point in how much you need to learn. You've told us nothing we didn't already know about Vox. He's more of a thorn in our side than an actual 'enemy'." She closes the gap again, taking another step towards him, "And I wouldn't say the same page, but at least we are finally reading the same book. You'll find I'm far from a trickster or a liar. I'd say you'll learn to trust me but....I'm starting to think that word exists in your vocabulary." she says coyly. 

His eyes remain on her as he moves back around to his desk, regaining some space and petting the hen's skull. "It does exist, I trust Heniffer." 

Althea rolls her eyes with a quick look to the hen, "Yeeeeah not helping your image of 'trust' there buddy. You know if you gave Alastor a chance, you'd find you and him are more alike than you'd like to believe. He's been here longer than me. Rose to power quicker than anyone. You'd benefit greatly from learning a few things from him. And he'd benefit from being taken down a notch every now and then." she leans to one side, kicking her hip out as she mumbles the last sentence with some annoyance in her voice.

Something like a laugh escapes the necromancer's chest. "So you offer me the knowledge of two overlords and all I have to do is use your guardian angel as a training dummy, is that so?" He moves back in his chair, arms and legs crossed.

In one swift movement Althea is back at the desk, hoisting herself on top to sit criss cross. She stares face to face with the man in his chair, "You speak as though you've never been shown kindness or been offered anything without some backhanded motivation." 

She cocks her head and rests it on her arm propped on her knee, "Does my offer intimidate you, sir? Should I be worried you'd betray the same person who helped when she didn't need to?"

"I'm selfish indeed, but if you can't respect my boundaries now, what makes me think you will later?" His voice is sharp and cold. His eyes begin to glow, forcing a portal to appear on the desk under her.

"Easy!" she yells rolling backwards off the desk, catching herself on her feet and glaring angrily, "Other than breathing your air, I've shown no reason for you to be so cold towards me when I've given you nothing but an extended hand in growing your knowledge!" her fist pounds the desk next to the portal, losing some control of her frustration. Looking down she sees Alastor, frozen, staring at her from their hotel room. 

"Just a moment dear." she throws to him before returning daggers to Vexel, "Close it! We're not done here!" she commands. The necromancer peaks over to the portal, giving a brief wave before closing the portal. He stands eyes aglow, commanding the corpses back to their resting place behind the wall.

"Trying to force me to trust you isn't helping, Althea. And you showing aggression to my lack of trust doesn't help either. Like you, I must remain cautious and careful with my contacts. We should make a deal to preserve our own safety"

She cards her hands through her hair, trying to regain her composure and pacing in front of the desk. "You've been here long enough to know things are...tense. I'm not....I'm not trying to force anything. I just - " 

A long sigh leaves her throat as she collects her thoughts, "I've spent my afterlife making a point to protect the sinners of the city. Most hardly deserve to be here. Others - " she looks down at her shaking hands, " -others I should have let die. I’ve learned how shit demons can be, how ruthless." her head shakes, bringing herself out of her own thoughts, "I don't think a deal is something you want from me. We'd be tied to each other in one way or another and that requires some form of trust. I do not desire a deal where I have to watch my back every minute of the day. I think you of all people would understand that." She keeps her head down, leaning her hands against the desk.

He stands up, towering over at her. "Don't give me a reason to stab you in the back and I won't. That's the word I can give you." He walks next to her, opening a portal once more to the hotel in front of them. Defeated, Althea waves off the more than confused Alastor. She looks up to Vexel, voice unwavering. "The only thing I'm trying to force is how much good I'm trying to see in you. Collect your thoughts, questions, whatever. You know where to find me." 

She goes to step through the portal but pauses for a moment. A solemn look in her eyes as she approaches Vexel one last time, "Not that you care, but Michael was his name. Your little Imp 'test subject'.  He ran a tailor shop.  Worked hard, kept his nose down. Saved him a few years back but lost contact. Guess I have my answer as to why." she turns and enters through the portal, yelling a quick "Goodbye Vexel."

"I'll be in touch, Althea!" With an approving smirk he waves goodbye, "I'll kidnap you if in need, and I'll take special care of Michael." With a flick of his hand, the portal closes.

Alastor’s hands grasp onto Althea’s shoulders, "Care to share what the HELL you think you were doing? Why were you with him? What did he mean by kidnapping!? Is he working for Vox? HELLO!?" 

She ignores his million questions, shaking off his hands and walking out of the room, "Not right now Al - I need a drink. Or six." she hollers over her shoulder before closing the door, leaving the Radio Demon to simmer in his own rage. 

Within a minute, a small portal opens in front of Alastor. Something flies through and hits him in the face. He unfolds the small note: 

I'm on your team, Guardian Angel.  Vexel, your personal necromancer.

Alastor's lip curls into a snarl. The note goes up in a green flame in his hand, "A fucking necromancer..." he growls under his breath. The last "self proclaimed" necromancer he encountered was back when he was alive. Plenty supposedly lived in the bayous near his home, and Satan knows they were nothing but sneaky, conniving fools. 

~He might have Althea fooled, poor girl is so much like Charlie when it comes to seeing the best in everyone, but I will be keeping an extremely close eye on this Vexel.~

Pt. 2.5 - The Long Game

[kathyprior4200]

Sinner’s Key and Ring Travel Theories

If sinners could travel to the other Rings via the Hellevator (tm):

Angel Dust goes to Lust, sees Asmodeus is worse than Valentino

Husk tries out his gambling luck in Greed.

Niffty goes to Dreamsville in Sloth to live her fantasies, until she's brought back to Hell as it were.

Charlie swims and meets the Eldritches in Envy. It is also where Malantis (Hell's Atlantis) is located.

Vaggie duels with Millie in Wrath.

Alastor enjoys grand feasts in Gluttony, selling hearts, organs and meat in Creole style dishes.

 The Hellevators are magical elevator devices used by the hellborn to travel to the different Rings/districts. The elevators fly through portals in different colored skies, from Pride at the top to Sloth at the bottom and back. The elevator has buttons with the different Ring names lit up "Pride" "Greed" "Lust" "Envy" "Gluttony" "Wrath" "Sloth". Each Hellevator is guarded by security to ensure intruders, sinners and dealers cannot pass. Creepy music-box music often plays inside.

Sinners cannot travel to the other Rings (1) because Lucifer's punishment involves ruling a realm full of sinners, and Lucifer hated sinners because he believed that angels were superior to man and that his father should've paid proper attention to him instead. Plus, he thought humans were primitive. (2) Only the hellborn can withstand the harsh environments of the other Rings and the effects of the portal traveling in general.

The Sinners Key may very well change that. The black device could allow sinners to travel to the other Rings without magic holding them back. (Perhaps only the Hellborn know the magic code to get into said elevators.) And Alastor may use it to cause more trouble and chaos. Why wouldn't a serial killer cannibal radio host want to laugh and scheme as Lucifer's reign slowly crumbles as sinners fight and revolt against the very system that brought them suffering/paradise. With more sinners learning the truth about Hell, war would be likely...and perhaps Alastor's true desire to see his mother may come faster. Alastor wouldn't have to be in power at all (he doesn't want power anyway)...he would be the mastermind behind all the events...and could bask in endless entertainment! For Alastor, Charlie naively trusting him fully and failing a lot would be even better!

Sinners physically cannot go to the other Rings. Unless...Lucifer does not want any sinners to travel to the other Rings because if they did, the former humans could discover Hell's system and secrets. With so many sinners around, they could overthrow the Seven Deadly Sins and expose Hell to the other humans to corrupt it further...at least that's the overall fear. Kind of like how Heaven fears that sinners will invade Heaven, bring chaos to their orderly structures and create HHWII (Heaven-Hell War 2), hence why the exterminations happen in the first place.

Charlie may not be able to save everyone...but she sure as Hell will try to save as many as she can to reunite them with their families in paradise. (Angel Dust, his mother and sister Molly, Alastor and his mother). Sinners may very well be living in a chaotic paradise matrix, oblivious to the real sufferings going on in Hell. (Same with the denizens of Heaven). Sinners and saints alike, trapped in two grand afterlife systems, pitted against each other.

Charlie and the Hazbins will have to face their darker selves and society if they have any hope of saving anyone.

“What If…Sinners Could Travel Through Hell’s Rings?”

 Hell’s Rings or Circles are various districts or locations in Hell with certain attributes. In Dante’s Inferno, nine circles of Hell are listed: Limbo, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Anger, Heresy, Violence, Fraud and Treachery. Each circle had its own punishments for the sinners to endure that corresponded to how they were in life. In Hazbin Hotel, on the other hand, the Circles or Rings as they are called are named after the Seven Deadly Sins: Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath and Sloth in that order from top to bottom. The seven demon overlord rulers each rule their Ring: Lucifer for Pride, Mammon for Greed, Asmodeus for Lust, Leviathan for Envy, Beelzebub for Gluttony, Satan for Wrath and Belphegor for Sloth. In Heaven, the districts are called Halos named after the Seven Heavenly Virtues: Humility, Charity, Chasity, Kindness, Temperance, Patience, and Diligence.

  In our main Hazbin Hotel universe, for an unexplained reason, sinners (former humans) cannot travel to the other Rings of Hell. They are only stuck in the Pride Ring, which is the main setting for Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. Only those born in Hell can travel to the other Rings. They travel via a magic elevator called the Hellevator that travels through portals in the different colored skies. Several theories may explain why it’s the case. First, it could be Lucifer’s punishment, seeing as he hates humans and believes that God should not have favored man over his own angelic children in Heaven. The second reason could be that sinners cannot physically tolerate or withstand the other environments and the traveling to the different Rings.

 But a third reason may be that Lucifer himself is hiding a sinister secret. If humans knew about Hell’s hierarchy and locations, the fear of human hordes taking over Hell’s foundation and the overlords may be the case. It is similar to how those in Heaven don’t want an overwhelmingly large amount of sinners overtaking their orderly world and questioning all the authorities.

 In addition, the fact that sinners in particular can respawn in Hell unless killed by an angelic weapon may be the source of the concern. After all, even the most powerful king or ruler in any dimension would fear an uprising of thousands of individuals who would just revive themselves.

 But what if…for a moment, sinners found a way to enter the other Rings? What if they could do so with the help of a very special black Sinner’s Key…a key that could change the fate of Hell, Heaven and Earth alike?

[poison--ivory]

Uninviting Cataclysm (Alastor x Reader) Chapter 6

Warning: Homophobia and period typical racism

Part 1: link

Part 2: link

Part 3: link

Part 4: link

Part 5: link

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Alastor only saw red in that moment, his mind was taken over by a barrage of constant, annoying static noise filled his ears. Throbbing pain from his temple irritated him to no end, clutching at the spot to soothe the already splitting headache. Alastor couldn’t stop the numerous tremors exploding from his body, getting hit on the head by that bastard really set him into a state of shock, but quickly switched around into a state of fury. At this point he’ll be arriving at the party with grey hairs and crows feet.

    Struggling to stand up Alastor grasped at the wooden wall to catch himself from dropping to the hard floor. The only problem he had was seeing straight, getting hit on the temple would do that and he should know he did it to a lot of past victims before. They always had that far away look in their eyes whenever he struck them upside the head.

    His current prey at the moment bewildered him, taking her only a minute for her to grab one of his spare knives and luckily for him the dumb dora grabbed the blade instead and swung at him with the handle. No matter how idiotic it sounded it did bid her enough time to run up the stairs to the main house. She wouldn’t get far, he knew that much, since he figured that if she was skittish enough to only hit him with the handle she would try to hide instead of escaping. Alastor regained his composure promptly, with a slight provoked twitch of the eye, he leisurely strolled up the stairs taking notice of the front door. The lock was still intact and the two pennies he had between the door crevice were still tucked away nicely in place. The back door wasn’t tampered with either, the same type of coins shoved into the crevices haven’t moved an inch since placed there. Strolling back into the living room he noticed the turned up rug leading up to the second floor.

     Listening he could hear the light thumps of bare feet on hardwood coming from the second floor. Why the second floor? He questioned himself. She could’ve easily ran through the kitchen and into the backyard. Where she could have ran for help, which would be rather troubling for him that a white woman running in the slums of New Orleans clearly injured. Even if his reputation was good with the community it was still a man of color word against the word of a white woman. That would be a horrible outcome, considering he still had to finish his story and he was long from it being over just yet.

     But, instead she ran upstairs to where the only means of escape are the windows. Which in her state is a pretty dumb decision. He was so far in thought that it nearly slipped his mind that his mother is still resting on that same second floor of the house. And all caution flew straight from his mind as he bolted to the staircase, tripping on the first step and skipping three or four stairs just to get to his mother’s room.

     Long strides zeroed in on his mother’s bedroom door, opening the door swiftly and the old door squealed with a lowered howl. Doing a quick once over he glanced around the whole room, making sure that he didn’t cause too much noise to wake her. The comforting noise of his mother’s snores dimmed down his delusions in his head, but something lingered in the back of his brain once more. He tried to think of why he felt so paranoid, and then it struck him, he realized she never dropped that knife downstairs. On the contrary she still had that knife equipped on her. He should have brought a weapon, but brushed it off that she probably didn’t have much strength to hold the knife with her dominant hand. Now that he thought of it she was probably one of those people who can’t function right, without thinking about the situation as it’s happening. A loud and harsh thump from behind him caught him off guard, and he briskly turned around to search the room, eyes falling on the small frame crawling from under the bed. Her body trying to stand upright, but before she could pull the rest of her body out from under his mother’s bed, he grabbed her shoulder, his hold tight enough that she yelped in pain and dragged her out the room. Her cries of help fell on faint ears, but he couldn’t risk his mother waking up to her constant whining and so he threw the rest of her body out the door swiftly closing it behind him.

          “Leave. . .me alo-” A proper slamming of her head against the hallway table cut the rest of her screaming to mute itself. Her body curled up and she tried her damn hardest to crawl away from me. She was in such a state of shock that it was so effortless of a job of taking the knife she still closely held to her chest. He contemplated on killing her right then and there, nevertheless he decided on the ladder.

         “Now, miss your death would’ve been fast, but now I want to take my time with you.” He grinned, yanking her head to an angle that looked rather uncomfortable. “Hitting me on the head was one thing and I could’ve let it slide, however you fucked with my mama. She needs her sleep ya know, so it was very unkind of you to intrude on an old woman making all that unnecessary noise.” Dragging his hand on his face, pulling the skin from under his eyes to relieve some stress, but only getting more agitated. He reached for her ankle, dragging her back down the stairs and back into the basement, where he pushed her. Her back hit the stairs first, a cracking noise came with it and next was her arm, she landed on it when trying to catch herself. It bent at a weird angle and she screeched in agony, but nobody besides him would hear her. The neighbors at this time are usually outside singing, dancing or eating together which would be helpful in her case if she just ran outside like a sensible person in harm's way.

      She hit the bottom with a resounding thump, her body laying stiff at the end of the staircase. He knew that he would be terribly late to the party, which is something he would not be attending if it wasn’t for one particular person. His precious little dame, who’s been waiting for him to arrive over an hour ago. He figured he could have waited until next week to snuff the life of the “up and coming” song bird, but she just had to keep pushing his buttons. Her flirting was horrendous and her constant touching, on which he has to correct her on every time he’s near. But, now here he is dragging her unconscious body back to the slab of hard cement and pushing her dainty frame on the table, strapping her in tighter than earlier. The skin constricting with the restraints left them redden and will later bruise from all the thrashing she loves to do. By the time he was done with her straps, he noticed that she was still unconscious and from the look of it she wasn’t going to come out of it anytime soon.

      You know he could’ve left right then and there and he could be having a swell time at the party, but he just couldn’t risk the matter of her escaping again. She was far too close to his mother and he didn’t want to take that risk her health or life because his prey slipped from between his fingers. With that aim in order he decided to stay until she woke up and when she did rise from her wake, he was going to give her hell.

-----------------------

           “Al, can you hear me.” A small voice interrupts his train of thought from all the irritating events that took place tonight. “Did you hear me, Ally.”

    He masked his twitching eye with his signature, charming grin, but behind that masked smile he hated that nickname, ever since the school boys heard his mother use it. They called him a faggot and grinded his face into the concrete, he could still feel their filthy hands clutching his skin, leaving visible bruises the next day. His father wasn’t much better either, the day he saw those kids beating on him he took him hunting. Those seven days of hunting were just his father’s excuse to get him alone without his mom there. His father would hit him for missing a shot, gutting a fish wrong or for leaving his shoes inside the tent.

   A few too many kicks and slaps to the back of the head steered into a direction he regretted. His vision turned red on the third slap that day and what drove him to giving a square hit to his old man’s chin. His father stumbled, dazing off at the sky for a few seconds, before sluggishly dropping his head, his cold and empty eyes trained on his small frame. Following, soon after was a constant session of air trying to escape his throat and taking deep breaths before his esophagus closed up again. It took him over a full minute and half to pry off his father’s hand, afterward they went home, father coaching him not to say a damn thing to his mama.

   Groaning he sat straight upright,“I would like it if you didn’t call me that, dear.” a slight tone of annoyance very subtle in his voice. “What were you saying again, love.”

        “I was just thinking since you already met my family. Can I please meet your mother?” Big doe eyes peered up at him in the moonlight dimmed room.

   Meeting his mom was something he always thought about, but he keeps imaging her going into the basement or finding some of the bloody jars of organs in the downstairs freezer. But, he knows how to guilt trip, manipulate and lead her down the path that he wants that’s how he got her to stay with only him. He could easily handle (Y/n), she was very obeying even if she was a little hard headed and little too carefree for his taste.

   Her big eyes curiously gazed up at my face, and a quick flash of her face flickered in his mind caved in and mashed like a bowl of ground beef. He didn’t know why, but he thought of killing her in that moment, getting her out of his hair and not having to worry about a curious dame. But, he wanted to ride this out long enough to see where this ended, even if he does end up killing her later in life. At least he was the one to kill this young barecat before anyone else could even think of it.

        “Right now might not be a great time, she’s has a rather weak immune system and I can’t have her getting sick on me.” His hand ran through her tousled hair and gently caressed her cheek, his body heating up with the thought of her blood smearing these bed sheets. “Sorry, love.”

        “Well, if that's the case can I talk to her on the phone. This way I won’t get her sick and I get the chance to talk to your mama.” A sleepy smile graced her lips and heavy eyelids threaten to close any minute now. He could have said no, but why not this way he didn’t have to die of embarrassment from his mother showing her any unnecessary photos lying around. “So, can I baby?” At least she changed that annoying pet name.

        “Oh, fine.” An exasperated sigh left his body and gave a playful glare down at her. “But,only if I get a kiss first.”

  (Y/n) leisurely sat up and climbed in my lap, entangling our legs while at it. She softly puckered her lips and lightly pecked his cheek, lying her head on his chest soon after.

       “Tired, my dear.”

        “Mhmm.”

     He already knew the answer to that question, she won’t say it out loud, but he knew that she was feeling intense pain ever since that small spell he placed on her.

     Every time he felt such fierce hatred or anger she would feel this unbearable pain in her chest and he knows that sounds weird for putting a spell on a young bim he loves. Yet, he loved the facial expressions on her face when she’s in great pain. It brings him so much enthusiasm to know he’s giving her this unbearable agony. He especially finds it very amusing when she tries to cover it up, like in the boiler earlier. He was in a deep thought of that dumb dora he killed and was slowly getting more pissed by the second of just thinking about her and her stupidity of failing to escape. He didn’t even realize until he looked over at her that she was clutching at her dress very tightly, moving from side to side in her seat and asking him small questions from time to time. Well, that was just another side effect from the spell, needing the attention of the spellcaster's eyes on them to feel. . . “special” in a sort of way.

    This was just a quicker way of acquiring his lovely dame all to himself, manipulating her into a thoughtless little lady soon enough.

   Smirking to himself he raked his fingers down her hair and back before repeating the process. “Well, I hope you have a very peaceful rest my dear (Y/n).” She was already asleep by the time he said this, her slowed down breathing giving her away that she was past the state of early sleep. When she awoke the following morning she would most likely forget about this whole ordeal and would be too busy in her autopilot day to day lifestyle.

        “You’ll meet mother when she deems it right to finally see you. No need to rush it, you'll both meet soon enough.”

[blankdblank]

Ridikulus

This is the redone version of the series :D

@long-cosmos-overhead​, @partoftheminfamily​, @alishlieb

Once not so long ago, a world now wreathed in flames and filled with naught but ash and creatures of the worst sort once cheered at the return of the Girl Who Died protecting the Boy Who Lived returning to life and her acceptance to the greatest Wizarding school in the magical world, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Raised under a false name under the careful watch of her Uncle in hiding, Regulus Black and her Godmother Minerva McGonagall until she was able to reclaim her name and face the stares and comments towards her great absence. All starting with a smirk from the tall woman reading the long scroll of names who cleared her throat and clearly read aloud, “Jaqiearae Black.”

But just when the wars they imagined to be over, the Boy Who Lived, didn’t, leaving only the Girl Who Died, and died, and died to save what was left of their world. With the school in flames and crumbling around them Albus Dumbledore rallied the mandrake doubles of his students and agreeing allies. An illegal act, creating doubles of anyone for purposes of war, one that had her sentenced to a lifetime of serving the school she’d fought so hard to defend in place of her being sentenced to Azkaban for that and her role as a Death Eater to gain information for the Aurors.

Calming the students and guiding them back to their dormitories once they were secured as the Aurors secured the grounds and checked that after the Dark Lord fell his followers were rounded up and locked away. But much like the Hydra, you cut off one head and more pop up to claim their place. Just as the dust was settling on his grave three different fractions rose and started their own reign of terror. So in yet another last ditch effort Dumbledore’s Army and Order of the Phoenix members already bearing Dark Marks split into groups, using their already tight bonds with the dark Wizards to infiltrate their ranks.

Word spread of a single joining event, all three planning on attacking at once. Without time or chance to warn anyone they dared to trust in the Auror system a plan was set in motion and followed to the T, sparing thousands that would have otherwise died. Under the cover of darkness the teen spies all split through the barriers of the homes the dark armies were claiming as headquarters and raced out silently, snatching any and all Muggles, animals, towns and suburbs along the way leaving large patches of nothingness behind.

Ensuring of as many innocent lives and resources could be spared as the others in Dumbledore’s Army rounded up all student and their relatives of the three Wizarding schools of the east still standing freely, shrinking their homes, schools and marketplaces as others in the Order of Phoenix and other trusted Aurors hid all creatures and locations they could of their world to be re-housed later in a safer location yet to be determined.

…

Swarms of broomsticks and various flying objects and creatures flew straight into the floating open door of your home leading out to the secret lands you’d entrapped it in years prior for it’s secrecy through your faked death and later search for the horcruxes. All filling the space you’d allotted them while the small group of your closest allies joined you on a long racing flight through enemy lines you blasted your way through with the aid of your two shielded Dragons you and Charlie Weasley were in charge of guarding, Norberta and Opal.

With one last barrage of curses you cast the enemy forces split and a town came into view through the melting barrier you had broken with a long thought forgotten enchantment in Draconic. Gripping your brooms tighter you and Charlie felt the shrunken Dragons curl around your backs tightly as the portkey Seamus called for and enlarged it for everyone to get a hold flew straight at your forming circle. But just as you latched onto it your eyes opened wider as the enchanted and tattered book flipped open and sucked you all inside.

.

All around you words swirled and the flapping of pages grew into a colorful blur as what once was a white world with black blurry stripes grew into a painful collision with your gasping at being the first of Dumbledore’s Army to crash into the mahogany door sealing off a small closet and the carpet coated floor inside. A quick shift of your hand had the group of brooms shrinking to save them from damage.

One after another crashing through the opening and falling on top of you and Charlie, sending pained groans through the small home as your pile of squirming teens climbed and wiggled your way free from the split door. One by one they all ducked in the main hall avoiding the low ceilings and beams aiding the next in line as the two Dragons climbed down from their gripped position on the top of the split door, having jumped off just before your crash.

With another groan you were helped up by your adopted Twin Brothers, Fred and George, both chuckling as they brushed your bloodied and matted pale silvery blue curls slipping free from your loose ponytail formerly covering your purple eyes that appeared green when looked at from the side. Gently they helped shift your torn flannel shirt over your blood stained tank top from the slowly bleeding wound on your shoulder. Then shifted your bangs off your reddened cheek that was already covered by the massive pink swirling scar covering nearly the entire left side of your face under your side swept bangs from when the Dark Lord tried to kill you and your Cousin Harry as children.

George, “No worries.”

Fred nodded and brushed your ponytail back over your back, “All upright now.”

Your head turned to Seamus in a steadying grip on the arched beam you limped out under, eyeing the teen who was sitting down gripping the wrist he’d landed hard on as Dean helped him wrap a long bandage around it. “Seamus? What, exactly, did you use as a portkey?”

In another staggering step on your badly throbbing dislocated left leg your weight shifted back to your right with the twins to support you he replied, “Professor Dumbledore said to pick something they wouldn’t find, so I picked this old book my Gran used to prop up her seeing glass with.”

Running your fingers over your face Hermione sighed blinking her tear reddened stinging eyes leaning back against the wall under Ginny’s depressed and slumped cried out frame against her chest, “You’re not supposed to use books Seamus.”

Seamus, “Why not?”

Turning your head you caught sight of a short man with a chestnut head of curls eyeing you from behind a doorway with an even taller man in all grey with his beard pooling over the shorter man’s face.

Percy, “The Wizard Merlin used a book as a portkey once and hasn’t been seen since.”

With a quiet head nod the twins led you closer to the wall placing you in full view of the peering pair as well as the group of scowling bearded men behind them. After a weak chuckle you said, “Hi. Sorry to intrude. Bit of a mix up on our escape plan. Sorry for the damage and the shock.” You glanced back at the closet drawing your wand from the sheath in your pocket, which with a simple flick mended the closet and door back to its former state drawing the pair out as the taller of the two stated, “You’re a Wizard?”

You nodded, “We all are.” They glanced over the group of mangled and blood soaked teens, all having to either break free of physically tortured roles in gaining trust of your faked allies or the escape itself.

Stepping forward the tall man extended his hand and said, “I am Gandalf the Grey. You’re all so young.”

You smiled, switching your wand to your other hand and shook his hand, “Jaqi Black.” His brow rose, “Family name, not a title.” Causing him to nod his head with a relieved smile.

One by one you pointed to each of the group, “Fred, George, their brothers Percy, Charlie and Bill, all the redheads are Weasley’s, their Sister Ginny in on Hermione Granger.” In her head nod her eyes shifted to the familiar blonde in the bunch of short men whose shoulder bumped into his brother’s holding his wide eyed stare on her making her shift her gaze to Ginny again to keep from blushing recognizing him from your dreams on the trio from years prior.

“Cedric Diggory, Victor Krum, Oliver Wood, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood beside Draco Malfoy, then Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and, where are…” Your head turned as a loud roar sounded over head, “Ahh, there’s Hagrid.” The roar died and with a knock at the door two crouched figures appeared after Alastor had used his eye to search the houses to find you all, having you finish, “Hagrid on the right and Alastor Moody on the left. There’s more but they’re in the school and at home.”

With a curious expression over your head from the smaller man you giggled and held your hands up aiding the Dragons that had walked across the thick doorframe to crawl down to your shoulders and you to say, “And Norberta and Opal.”

With a firm grip on his ax the sternest of the group neared the short man as he stated, “Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins.”

You smiled at him, “Pleasure to meet you Mr Baggins. Again, so sorry for having interrupted your party.” Making the small Hobbit grin for a moment until his eye wandered to the still flowing trickle of blood down your chest through your shallow breaths at your badly bruised ribs. Looking up at the man creeping over with his ax you asked, “And your name?”

He scowled at the creatures on your shoulders as Gandalf stated, “This is Thorin Oakenshield, future King of Erebor.”

Thorin, “What is the meaning of this Gandalf? You urge us to secrecy and yet you bring these children and their, beasts, to our meeting?”

Your eyes lowered to Bilbo as he eyed the other rooms trying to see if anyone else was hiding there causing him to flinch slightly and smile at you nervously, “Your home, I presume?” He nodded, “We do apologize for intruding, normally our magic is blocked from allowing us to enter the homes of others unwelcome, it wasn’t our intention.”

Thorin, “And just what were you intending?”

Your eyes shifted to him, “We were escaping a war, and used an enchanted item, that was supposed to take us out to a hidden island, there we were meant to regroup and move forward from there, but Seamus didn’t know we’re not supposed to use books, and we got sucked inside and here we are.”

A soft clearing of a throat sounded from a white haired man behind Thorin who gently tapped Thorin’s hand to lower his ax and say, “Excuse me Miss, you appear to be bleeding. Perhaps we could aid you in your mending and we can discuss this further.”

You nodded and glanced at Bilbo, “You look hungry. Should be about time for supper. Allow us to make up for the intrusion.”

The teens around you all rose as tall as they could manage as you snapped your fingers and a door appeared causing Bilbo flinch again and eye both sides of it curiously, with a smile you met his eye saying, “I promise you won’t be harmed.”

He nodded and followed your group, all limping your way through the long dim hall that opened, after a colored wheel turned beside the door on the other end, to the Hospital Wing in Hogwarts. Side by side the group of teachers all grouped around the bruise and burn coated figures of Snape and Regulus both sharing a bed, eager to count the number of survivors of the brave teens leading the charge.

With a relieved exhale Minerva raced to you and the twins pulling you into a tight hug and ushered you over to the bed closest you while Bilbo and Gandalf both led the timid group of Dwarves through the doorway. In a curious glance from you to the group Dumbledore stepped forward, meeting Gandalf who met him halfway to share introductions, with Gandalf fully assuming he might possibly be the head Wizard in charge.

Albus, “Welcome, I am Albus Dumbledore.”

Gandalf shook his hand, “Gandalf the Grey.”

And he motioned to his side at Bilbo who was eyeing the giant pair of phoenixes gathered around you crying over your wounds healing them, that were slowly being exposed layer by layer as you stripped while the other adults claimed a teen to start tending to. Around you Regulus and Severus sat listening to your assumed head count of those you had seen take hits. Minerva eased the list in her hands down ticking off each survivor with Sirius, Tonks, Harry, Remus, Arthur and Ron the last ones you had no clue what had happened to them. Harry and Tonks at least you could ask the clearly distressed Ginny for information on them as they had taken your portkey to fetch her themselves. A ruffle of your hair from Regulus’ wand helped to clean your hair of blood after the cuts on your scalp were healed.

“This is Bilbo Baggins, and the rest of our Company, Thorin Oakenshield, his heirs Fili and Kili. And his Cousins and other kin Dwalin, Balin. Oin, Gloin. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur. Dori, Nori and Ori.” Each bowing their heads as they were introduced before the teachers were introduced.

Glancing around Thorin asked, “What is this place?”

You met his gaze as you rose right after a loud crack from your formerly dislocated left hip and knee being popped back in place with a brace added over your knee. Holding your gaze on him you pulled on your freshly magically washed shirt over the self cleaning tank top in the pinch you gave it making it wave then settle around you again. “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Thorin’s brow rose at your lack of a reaction to the pain clearly showing in your eyes, “A school for Wizards?” You nodded, “Are you, are you all students?”

Dumbledore motioned his hand to you as the door opened and Mrs Weasley raced in and drew you and her children into tight tear stained hugs tearily ignoring the absence of her son and husband. The very pregnant Fleur waddled in slowly beside Dobby and Kreacher who were holding the hands of your Nephew Teddy slowly walking between them. “Miss Black is our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.” Causing their eyes to shift to you as you bent to grab Teddy and give a gasping smile at him while you raised him to your hip pecking him on the cheek. Next your Aunt Narcissa Black and her Husband Lucius walked in with relieved smiles on their quiet path to their Son’s side giving him calming hugs and helped to clean him up as well.

Thorin met your eyes again after your hair shifted to a bright yellow to match Teddy’s after his excited giggle as Opal nuzzled her head against his while Norberta flew to Charlie’s shoulders again. “You let your child around that creature?”

“Opal would never harm a soul, unless provoked and left no other option. Antipodean Opaleye’s are notoriously docile and friendly. All the more cruel why someone had chained her in a bank to guard their hoard after they stole her from her nest and after she hatched blinded her.” Causing his lips to part, “I’m not certain what grudge you hold against the Dragons of your world, but ours share our emotions, no matter the size or defense they hold, they all only attack out of fear. We respect them and they respect us.”

You met Bilbo’s eyes as your hair turned back to silvery blue and said, “Right, Supper.” Turning to Dumbledore you said, “We’re early for Supper still, correct?”

To which he nodded, “We can add a few more tables to the end of ours, plenty of food to go around.”

Bilbo nodded and smiled at you softly, saying “Thank you.”

After another catching of Thorin’s curious gazes at Dobby and Kreacher you said, “Do you have a problem against House Elves as well?”

His eyes rose to yours as he playfully repeated with a growing smirk mirrored on his kin’s faces, “House Elves?” You nodded, and he shook his head, “No, no problem at all.”

You rolled your eyes and let Draco grab Teddy as you accepted the crutch Fred had passed you and led the way through the castle. After speaking to Regulus and Severus Narcissa and Lucius turned to your enchanted doorway joining Alastor for another search over the sleeping city for any sign of others lost along the way.

Barely five feet into the hall leading to the Great Hall the Dwarves’ smiles dropped at the flood of cries coming from the hoards of children all sniffling and rubbing their faces as older teens and young adults they knew tried to calm them. Each glancing up at you as you passed for the long path to the empty tables filling with the children that rose in tears from their magically mist induced naps at the tremors due to the use of the portkey to join you for the meal.

Softly through the sea of distressed students the tap of your crutch was heard and halfway around the teacher’s table a weak grin split across your face seeing Barty trotting over to you through the crowds and curious Dwarves. In a rush at once you were engulfed in a warm hug as you shifted your crutch to the side heading him mumble into your hair, “There you are, Darling.”

In his pull back the little hand on Em’s raised arm patted your badly bruised once split cheek and you said, “Just a bruise. It doesn’t hurt.”

Barty ushered you around the table, “Come, let’s get you settled and fed.”

Once in your chair your crutch stood behind it and in a reach over to you Em was claimed and settled on your lap mumbling, “We all shook Mummy.”

With a grin you answered sweetly, “Yes, well, we’re safe now.” At her large yawn you kissed her cheek and said, “Now, I believe it’s story time.”

With a sleepy nod from her Barty lifted her again after her hug around your neck you felt the eyes of the settling Dwarves on you through. A peck on the cheek later and Barty said, “Sleep tonight. You need it.”

“I know.” Peering up at him he stole another peck on your cheek and grinned at Em saying, “Now, which story did you want tonight?” In his stroll back through the vast hall towards the open doors leaving the oldest Dwarves muttering between themselves in their own gravely language at a guess for how old you were as they began to notice the slight point growing on all your ears.

In their new seats the younger Dwarves mumbled to each other about where all the adults were before Ori asked, “Miss Black?”

Your brow rose in the turn of your head to face him, “Yes Ori?”

In a hushed tone he asked, “Where are all their parents?”

Averted gazes from the teachers close by as well as a few from the DA did as well while you answered, “Like I said, we were escaping a war. Their parents sent their children to us for safe keeping, we managed to save the adults able to make it to the meeting points in time. We saved who we could.”

Ori asked in a trembling tone, “Who would attack children?”

After a steady exhale you replied after glancing over the Dwarves giving all the hundreds of quieting children claiming their seats with the aids of hundreds of house Elves pained glances, “In our world no child is safe. Any and all creatures were targets. The adults did what they could, but we had to learn to defend ourselves.”

Thorin, “So you formed the school?”

“No, we formed our own armies.” Causing their lips to part, “There isn’t a teen over thirteen that hasn’t seen some form of battle since the war began. This school among others have been around for centuries.” In a shift of your gaze you eyed Neville releasing his baby sister Nellie from her tight hug, having shared the news of what had happened and that you were all safe now inside the world of the book.

The usual gasps filled the hall at the magically filling tables causing Bilbo’s face to light up at the selection mumbling, “I’m in Hobbit Heaven.” Then filled his plate as you did the same with the Dwarves slowly joining in after you assured them they were not taking any of your supplies and there was plenty to go around.

After dinner was over Albus rose and gave a small speech that they had now found a new world, one that they would be safe in that was far from the war and dark Wizards that had hunted them. But curiously enough for the Dwarves most of the children all glanced to you after and only seemed to relax at your confirming nod.

.

On your feet again you guided the men back through the emptying Great Hall where they watched the children wishing you a good night as you did the same naming them in return turning for the distant dormitories guided by the other Professors and older teens among your group. All who were helping to take care of the younger children taking up newly formed dormitories in the school and toddlers and infants. Over their heads Norberta and Opal flew to speak with Fawkes and the giant Phoenixes. Back again into the main hall you made your way to your waiting enchanted door only to see Lucius, Alastor and Narcissa enter again shaking their heads, “No sign of them.”

With a nod you said, “Well, maybe they landed farther along in the book?”

Alastor, “We’ll smoke them out eventually.” Patting you on the shoulder in his move past you, “Don’t you be staying up too late now. I won’t be having you passing out on us. Padfoot might be loose but I will not be letting you slide out of pace.”

Narcissa said, “I’ll keep watch over Teddy tonight.” Giving you a gentle hug in her move past you.

“Thanks.” Through the door you led the way and once inside the smial again Thorin asked, “Who is Padfoot? Should we be concerned?”

Turning to face him you shook your head, “Padfoot is my father’s nickname. Him and my uncles and my brother Ron didn’t land with us. They’re off alone,” in a glance at the window you mumbled, “Harry and Tonks are somewhere too, unless they blocked a curse from Ginny so she could make it through.”

Thorin, “I apologize for your missing people, though we cannot aid you in searching for them. We must wake early to barter for horses.”

Shaking your head you said, “If they were close by I would know it.” Making his eyes narrow, “My bloodline, we can all sense one another. They are too far from me to sense them.”

Thorin met your gaze as you accepted the offer to move into the sitting room around the still lit fire, “What, what is your plan now? For your people?”

You exhaled slowly, leaning against Fred’s side on your right, “First we need to find an unclaimed stretch of land to set up our homes. These are just the children from the Wizarding World, there are more hidden in our protected homes, then we still have the non-magic population to rehome as well.”

Balin, “Non-Magic?”

Fred, “Like us, but without the powers.”

Kreacher popping up in front of you drew your gaze and handed you a slip of paper, “The Muggles have been fed my Mistress.”

Dobby appeared at his side adding, “Though their ears haven’t changed as the Wizards have.”

“Good to know. Thank you.” They bowed their heads and zapped off to your home to join in watching over Teddy and the others.

After a small momentary huddle initiated by Fili alerting his uncle to his need to know Hermione better, Thorin turned back to you and said, “Out past the Misty Mountains there is plenty of land to claim.”

“Misty Mountains?”

He nodded, “We would show you, for a fair trade.”

“What sort of trade?”

Thorin nodded his head to the sleeping Dragons, “You tame Dragons, we happen to be heading after a Dragon who stole our home.”

“So we handle the Dragon for directions?”

He shook his head, “There’s a destroyed city at the base of our Mountain called Dale, you handle our Dragon, do whatever you will with him, and we grant you the ownership of Dale.”

After a glance at Charlie to the left of George, refusing to leave you with the strangers, who shrugged through a nod, you extended your hand to the Dwarf who rose with a smirk to accept your shake, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Approaching with a table hovering beside him Gandalf pulled out a map he laid across it and shared a better view of where you were headed as well as informing you of a large stretch of Southern Greenwood unclaimed for centuries now. A topic that stirred the mention of Moria, bringing up a creature, later upon research in one of your books on mythical creatures was discovered to be defeated quite easily.

With a nod Thorin rose from the table stating, “Well, Miss Black, we should get our rest. As I said, we rise early to barter for horses in the morning. We’re leaving by sunrise.”

He paused at your black brow rising, “Wouldn’t flying be easier?”

Thorin lowly asked, “I am not flying on a Dragon.”

You smirked back, “And ours would never allow you to mount them. I meant Thestrals.”

Thorin, “Thestrals?” Causing you to nod and draw out your magical creatures book summoned from home you opened to their page explaining what they were to the curious group of huddled Dwarves.

.

It didn’t take long for the men to make their way to their preferred beds while you turned back for your door that led you straight into your home. Charlie and the Twins hurried off to spread news of your deal and round up volunteers for the first leg of the journey in the morning.

Right onto the glass wrapped ballroom you went and eyed the sky mirroring the one around the bag holding your hoard of shrunken dwellings. Canus Major was right in front and as the clouds rolled in to hasten the snow coming in you sighed and turned to your bedroom. Glumly on the bed Ginny sat and looked up at you watching your path to her side. Leaving your crutches by the bed you magically pulled off your shoes leaving them by the bed easing your task of settling up against your pillows. “Hey Gin.”

Tearfully in the quiver of her lip she asked, “I told him I never wanted to see him again!” After a sniffle she said, “Then the ass goes and says he loves me, and to be happy. Then pushed me and Tonks to the portkey when the group spotted me taking the last of their library.”

“Tonks was with you then?”

Looking at you she wiped her cheek asking, “She wasn’t with-, why, didn’t Dad and Ron show up with her?”

You shook your head, “They must have fallen somewhere later in the book.”

“We are going to look for them, aren’t we?”

“Alastor, Narcissa and Lucius took a flight trying to look for them around the city,” you shook your head, “No sight so far. First we have to help the Dwarves resettle so we can settle in their old city of Dale. Then we can spread out a full search of, what they call Middle Earth.” In the quivering of her lip your hand settled on hers resting on her leg and you said, “We’ll find them. No doubt the longer we are here I’m bound to get a glimpse of where they are, or they might even be on the way.”

Ginny nodded and sniffled again wiping her cheek, “Can I sleep with you?”

You nodded, “Of course.”

“Maybe if I’m with you I won’t dream about Harry.”

“Well if you don’t want to dream I can help there too,” waving your hand calling a vial of dreamless draught from your office you passed over she downed and you laid back with her snuggling close in the dimming of the lights to get some sleep. Though as she drifted off your slitted eyes flashed to silver and you watched the memory of Harry sacrificing himself to save the pair and how Tonks blocked a fireball curse from hitting Ginny and got sent off on her own. Forcing your eyes shut you tried to clear your mind focusing on your meditations to refocus calming yourself to head off to sleep yourself hoping for a dream of your father.

.

Inhaling deeply your eyes cracked open at the mooing of your alarm clock you silenced then struggled to your feet to brush your teeth offering a spare brush to Ginny. Combing your hair was next to pull it back up into another ponytail before adding your boots and limping your way down to breakfast finding the Twins, Bill, Percy, Luna, Draco and Neville all up around the table filling their plates from the spread Regulus had set out as you took your own seat to eat as much as you could before helping to gather the herds you would need.

A quick stop to the Forbidden Forest later and you were outside the hidden home resting under a tree waiting for the others to wake and exit the home as they had intended. Stolen admiration ended with the cracking of the front door making you turn again ready to help the men up onto the steeds.

Outside Bagend in the bright sunlight Bilbo eyed the giant carriage borrowed from Madame Maxime the Dwarves had loaded with their belongings, commenting on the spacious mansion housed within discovered to be your family home at Nori’s questioning. One that would house the Dwarves and Wizards not on their flying shift around it through the days, lowly Thorin named the first group to join him on the first leg. After Bilbo’s own inspection leaving his own bags his eyes shifted to the winged pure white horses the Twins ensured to be secured properly. Open mouthed he gawked at the gorgeous creatures before he said, “Those look nothing like the sketches you showed us.”

You chuckled softly, eyeing the elder Dwarves inching closer to the timid Thestrels sniffing them as they neared, choosing their passengers on their size and smell, “It’s alright Bilbo. You can’t see them, but they’re around us.” He spotted Bofur, the first to climb on his, floating curiously mid air on a shifting invisible body leaving strange hoof marks in the dirt path below. “Which is why, I thought Buckbeak might be a better choice for you.”

His brow rose, “Buck-beak?”

You nodded your head and he approached, eying the same clothes you had worn the night before yet scrubbed clean with the large brace on your leg drawing a limp from you as a grey feathered mixed creature stepped from out behind the Pegasus to eye the small man at your side with a curious squawk. “First rule with Hippogriffs Bilbo, is never insult or disrespect them, very proud vain creatures. So when approaching, you bow, like so.”

He eyed and watched your bow at the waist leading to a curious glance from Buckbeak at why you would request his permission to approach when you cared for and disguised him and his father for the past few years since you and Percy had saved their lives. Bowing in return anyway he squawked at you and nuzzled his beak and forehead against your cheek as you approached before realizing you were training the small man how to greet him properly.

In another cautious glance over him Buckbeak inhaled then lowered his head in return. After his timid tro closer the Dwarves all watched you help him up onto his back and led Buckbeak to the front of the Pegasus as you walked to straddle your Father’s motorcycle left outside by Hagrid the night prior. Sitting on the seat beside the shrunken dragons in the sidecar at Bilbo’s yearning glance at his home you drew your wand shrinking it into a protective orb. In the spell the gaze of those watching shifted curiously at its sinking and leaving an empty patch of dirt in place of the small house under the hill at the base of a massive tree and surrounding gardens. A gasp left Bilbo at your pocketing the orb you’d trapped it in your bag settled in the sidecar before you met his eye to ask, “You didn’t want to bring it along? I can put it back, it’s a bit of a habit, we never leave our homes behind.”

He shook his head, “No, thank you. I’d hate to leave it. It will be safe in your bag?”

You nodded, “It’s enchanted, keeps everything safe inside, besides the orb is enchanted as well.” Making his smile grow. With a smile of your own you kick started the bike revealing the source of the roar from the night before drawing awed expressions on their faces George called out, “Brooms up.” Causing him, Fred, Bill, Percy, Luna, Draco and Neville to hover around you for the first leg of the trip. Steadily you led the path down the road and at the curve took off into the sky with Thorin’s Thestral following after stirring a ripple of the others and Buckbeak to do the same as the Pegasus did the same pulling up the rear.

Up into the frigid air you inhaled sharply trying not to cry knowing you were heading off leaving those lost to their own just so you could hope these men would be truthful and grant you the land promised to house your people. You wanted this to be true, to be real, and that you would not be left to drastic measures to protect your people and ensure prospering in the future. Still snowflakes fell around you from the clouds above and you tried to keep your gaze off the sidecar where your mother’s cat Crookshanks should be lounging had you not lost your second bag in the trip he was napping in. You should have left him at home, but he kept yowling insisting to go with you and no doubt would teleport to your lap anyways had you left him behind. The bag was enchanted so he should be safe, you hoped he was merely lost with one of the others and could show up one day dragging the bag he was in ready to leap into your arms, as soon as you’d let go of your father whenever he would be found.

Pt 2

[xradinoxinterloperx]

Vs Cp2 - Trip off (draft teaser)

Roughly translated English fragment of  the beggining  of the second chapter im  writting in my Vaggie centred fanfic.

Characters: Angel Dust, Niffty, Vaggie. Alastor, Charlie (minor appearences)

- What horse crap is this! - Angel complained- the interhell (Internet) also exists down here for something, ya know? i never agreed to this.

-Come on, it's just hand out some papers, we're not asking much of you! - Vaggie answered by his side trying not to lose his composure .

a speeding car in a corner flew one of the papers on Angel’s face  and worse,  splashed him with  water from the drains. Vaggie evaded spatter receding, Niffty, who was also with them, jumped aside to grab the papers she was carrying so that they also did not fly away, evading the water by chance and lack of height.

The spider growled hysterically, taking out a paper from his face then curshing it in his hand

- This stinks ...

Niffty looked at him containing herself, although her legs and arms were shaking. Charlie had  friendely nag her several times when  she throw herself on top of any guest or hotel member to remove any small stain or crumbs that she noticed on  their clothes or body. Considering that, slowly the little cyclops took out a white handkerchief and asked calmly, almost shy .

- Oh, Angel, do you need me to clean you a little?

 - If you want, I don't think you do much with…. Hey wait!

Niffty had thrown herself on him and rubbed him frantically, causing the spider to barely stand  by the tickling. When Niffty reacted and stopped, Angel was as clean as before being splashed and Niffty's handkerchief was absolutely brown.

- Oh, I'm sorry - The little girl apologized.

Angel looked surprised and just ended up combing his hair a  bit.

-Mmm ... I can't complain about the results ... Thanks honey. - Angel rubbed the head of Niffty who smiled at her with all her teeth back satisfied with herself. Vaggie also smiled a little behind them, then cleared her voice.

- Well, let's continue with this, the sooner we finish with this pamphlets, tickets and lists, the better for everyone.

Angel eyerolled resignedly and followed.

The Organization for the meeting and presentation at the hotel continued. First Charlie and Alastor had dreamed big about making it open to everyone, but soon Vaggie made them realize that something so public could be too chaotic and uncomfortable. Something The Overlords that had agreed to go (Mainly Stolas, and other feathered ones, plus Lucifer) might find unpleasant. And annoying the "Nobility" of hell could not only cause things to fail, but that the people who attended were at risk of dying.

 So they had decided that the assistance will be based on limited tickets or quota lists that will be distributed to some key sites in the city for those interested. Alastor had insisted that they be tickets, pamphlets and conventional tickets, even if it was outdated, for several reasons. First because the digital media were influenced and monitored by the Overlord Vox, who could intrude on or sabotage anything  digitally published, even more being a rival of Alastor himself. When everyone commented that they could probably easily damage the papers they distributed as well, Alastor said that it would make the papers not so easy to break and that even if they discarded most of the papers distributed, then the people who would come would be the one really interested or as he remarked , "Desperate enough to come," and that he would make sure, that those who will sign the ticket lists really "would" come. Vaggie understood that as something related to his powers and his reputation as a deal maker, probably his powers would force the ones enrolled to attend. 

She was not 100% sure of any of this, or the way to attract public or the meeting itself, but without better ideas, she did not oppose. Again,  more than anything she did this for Charlie. After all, what was the great presentation they would make at the hotel? They honestly had no results yet to surprise anyone. But Charlie was already rehearsing a speech for presentations with Alastor, and she seemed to think she would do better than the first time in her presentation at the news station with Katie Killjoy. Vaggie supported her mainly for another reason, because Charlie would see her parents again, whose relationship had been deteriorating due to their absence for a long time now. Although Lilith had said to support that  her daughter had initiative with her idea of ​​the hotel. After giving them that old building, she had known little more about her or Lucifer.

On hard days and nights where things were not going well, and even Charlie's mood could not cope with everything, sometimes she realized that The Princess was hiding or leaving the hotel, only to find a corner where to call her mother secretly . And for a long time it seemed that most of the time Lilith seemed not to answer her and not return calls. Then, Charlie had to gather the little mood she had to at least console herself by leaving a presentable voice message to her mother, telling something that especially bothered her but always wanting to pretend that she would get over it anyway and that everything was going well. Before the Last time, when Vaggie asked, Charlie had even lied to her, pretending she had talked to her mother on the phone. She knew Charlie didn't do it with bad intention, I did it because I didn't want to feel weak and useless in revealing being ignored. She felt guilty for the rejection she felt. The last one had been even worse, she had listened to her, running the water to cover his sobs and trying unsuccessfully to leave a message, 2 or 3 times ... Until she broke and resigned. She had not been able to bear it and had entered the bathroom just to hug her, to repeat her tiressly "It's not your fault, You're not a failure." Seeing her like this broke her heart, so she understood how important this reunion would be at the party for her. She would have bet that Zaza would know what to say, to overcome and not suffer so much the shadow of her parents, if only Charlie knew her and grow fond of her.

Now, while that memory crossed her mind, Vaggie approached with the remaining tickets, lists and pamphlets near the bar "Los Condenados." In the following days she had not had the opportunity to go back to the bar, although Charlie had shown interest in meeting the place. Surely Zaza, Vic and company would agree to go to the meeting and behave. The Moth Demon approached the place, it was about 5 p.m. on the clock in hell. The Bar sign moved slightly as usual, but the site was silent and there was no one, it was closed. They should open only at dusk. She approached the door anyway, and ran under it some of her papers, optimistic. A voice behind her surprised her.

-¿Que Hacés?

The imposing and elongated figure of Maria was behind her, carrying market bags in 4 of her 6 arms, her long serpentine body stretching down the steps leading to the entrance.

-Oh. hola Maria-  Greeted Vaggie.

Maria watched her be, tilting her head aside for a moment, until finally recognizing her.

- Oh, it's you.- she said not very sure- Vic's friend, mmm ... Vac, Vig ...

- Vaggie ... - she clarified in a good mood.

- Yes, sorry. What are you doing here? We don't open until later. - Maria said in her neutral tone and straight to the point.

- Yes, I imagined, but hey, I thought maybe Zaza would be interested in giving some of these for me - Vaggie said approaching and offering her the pamphlest, having to stretch and make the Serpent  lean down to take it, seeing that her 4 lower arms were occupied with the bags.

Maria took a quick look. Vaggie offered help with a bag but the huge demon denied carefree, Vaggie continued explaining.

It is an event that we will do, nothing too big, but it will be a presentation of the project we have, and we will accept certain amount of  Invited Guest. Maybe they want to come, we have a good lobby and bar to hang out, it will be fun with Zaza and Vic there.

Maria smiled a little looking at the paper. Vaggie felt somewhat beaten when she felt a hint of irony in her smirk smile, but at least she wasn't laughing, throwing the papaers out or making fun of them like most places they were tyring to deliver the papers.

- Well, it will surely be something interesting, but I don't know how lucky you are with us. The Bar opens every day and Vic left the city again, I don't know for so long.

Vaggie couldn't help looking down with some discouragement.

-Oh ...

Maria encouraged her by speaking somewhat condescending.

- But fear not, I will accept some tickets  and that list. Zaza sure will leave them in sight, although I cannot assure you that our clientele  will be  interested in this.

- I would really appreciate that Maria,  Muchas Gracias.

- No Hay de que. Zaza is also shopping for the bar,  Otherwise I would tell you to wait for her, she would love to see you. Let's see when you come with us again.

Vaggie appreciated the gesture of the imposing Bouncer. They shared a few more positive words before Vaggie said goodbye to the reserved Maria. A shame not to have shared a little more time in the bar, she really wish  for that today. Spreading the pamphlets, tickets and lists had been a challenge, and even a test of temper and redemption for the trio. Most sinful demons still gave a damn about the hotel and its cause. Some of them directly did not even let the pamphlets hang because in the proximity of their home or bussines, or they would use them as toilet paper. In some places where they were distributed, then they saw them flying through the streets almost minutes after leaving them there. It was frustrating, but Vaggie noticed something hopeful in all that boomer. While she was collecting thrown tickets, she saw people in the alleys, the poorest and most miserable ragged demons, take some of the thrown tickets. Hell was no place for weakness and perhaps the most miserable would be the most suitable to accept at the meeting, although perhaps they would have to be separated from the VIPS and only went  for food, what would be more redeeming than taking the most helpless demons ? She hated to admit it but Alastor was right about that of the most Desperate biting the hook.

Even going down the steps near the bar, Vaggie thought about where to start looking for her other two companions, she didn't see them for a long time when they separated. Surprisingly she found Niffty not far from where she was and apparently free of his papers.

-Niffty! - she smiled surprised - you have no papers left?

The last time she had seen her, Niffty had had the great idea of ​​using her small size and speed for, seeing that no one would take the papers from her hands even if she offered them to screams, just run around people without being noticed, and leave the tickets and pamphlets in their pockets, clothes, hair, ears, mouths, stick pamphlets on their backs without being noticed and things like that, although it had not always worked out well.

- Yeap!, Angel had a very good idea of ​​how to make demons take the tickets and  he already  gave all that I had left! Now he is with the rest.

Vaggie grimaced not very convinced, a "Oh No" was already ringing in her head, thinking what madness would  the spider had planned. And it would always be something worse than she could imagine.

In a corner of one of the main streets, wagging and lifting the short dress and flirting provocatively. A spider with long white hair and exquisite makeup was offering to those who passed, with a sign next to it that said "Take a ticket and have a sample of Angel Sugar" The Premise was simple, Angel had the tickets hidden in different parts of his body, and whoever wanted to touch for free had to accept one of the papers. The thing had gone very well since every pervert that happened to pass by did take one and most seemed to be complying with the premise, at least for now. Like Drag Queen, Angel was giving a pretty effective show, although he had to put some idiot in their place ...

- ANGEL WHAT THE FUCK? - Roared Vaggie clenching her teeth and with her eye on fire. The spider got distracted and turned. Niffty looked all innocent next to Vaggie.

- What Toots? is working, you told me we had to be witty, right? And I know what people want... - said the spider taking the fur that made up his colorful breasts.

. YOU'RE NOT GIVING TICKETS FOR A FUCKING CABARET!

 - Oh, quit yapping...

While Angel turned from his view to the street to talk to Vaggie, a colorful pink limousine parked behind him on the side of the street.

- ... Maybe if you showed a little sugar you would also do better, I could show you how ...

Before Angel could react, one of the car's   windows came down and one hand took an arm of the spider , immediately the car would start speeding dragging Angel with him.

- Angel! - Vaggie shouted helplessly, while the car accelerated down the street.

The Strong arm dragged Angel inside, in the sudden movement he finished with his wig covering his eyes.

-Hey! What the fuck is going on? - Angel exclaimed until he could finally tear off his wig and look around.

In front of him, with his intimidating face and looking angrily at him, he recognized his "Boss".

Valentino ... - he suddenly exclaimed calming his tone.

The Pimp only responded by frowning more, with his arms crossed.

- Hello Angie. - A sweet girly voice beside him exclaimed taking one of his arms

Angel opened his eyes wide.

Velvet? - He said after seeing the dark and cunning face of the smiling Overlord, immediately noticed his own voice and smiled -... dear ...

[voxxisms]

THERE'S SOMETHING wrong. something is shifting behind him, static in the air && a strange feeling creeping across his neck. what ... ?

shadows part, && standing directly behind him at his desk is alastor himself, a wide smile across his features, long fingers resting on vox's shoulders, gripping tightly. a familiar pit settles in vox's stomach.

❝ well now! vox, you didn't tell me you had a secret audience! such a shame you've been keeping them all to yourself, you sly dog. for someone who wanted so badly to work together, you really try to keep your secrets! ❞

[ ALASTOR has intruded as a guest muse! ]

[voxxisms]

anonymous whispered a line to  ALASTOR  !! unprompted  ( always accepting! ) were you and vox ever friends?

        ❛  Oh,  he probably thinks so.  We certainly used to go around the block together for a good while,  but I thorougly enjoyed having him wrapped around my finger.  He's so easy,  you know,  to handle.  I have a direct tap into his silly little mind,  I could hear every little thought if I wanted to.  Of course,  I usually don't,  he's very sick,  but,  it is something I could do!  Not sure I would label us as friends,  though,  no,  darling.  I like seeing him suffer too much for that!  ❜

[voxxisms]

anonymous whispered a line to  ALASTOR  !! unprompted  ( always accepting! ) Alastor, do you like Vox?

        ❛  Oh,  heavens no!  Come on,  now,  don't you folks know the difference between enjoying a good joke  &&  being actually invested?  Let's have an example,  shall we?  You visit comedians in clubs or singers at their work,  &&  you have an appreciation for the experience,  but they're terrible people underneath that you have no interest in actually knowing!  I know the buttons to push to keep myself entertained,  &&  once those run out,  I'll likely put him down.  ❜

[voxxisms]

anonymous whispered a line to ALASTOR !! unprompted ( always accepting! ) Alastor- what do you want with Vox?

     A  TILT  OF  his head to the side,  considering the posed question.  What did he want with Vox?  There were several ways to answer that question,  really,  but he chose to stick with the most obvious.

        ❛  Oh,  mostly a good laugh,  my fine friend!  He's very entertaining,  actually,  it's quite pathetic.  ❜

[voxxisms]

@velvetwarfare stepped up to alastor !! guest muse event ( currently accepting! )

“ GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS ~ ! “

ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT.

“ I KNEW I HAD A REASON NOT TO TRUST YOUR CRUSTY DUSTY, POORLY ASS TAILORED, GINGIVITIS RIDDEN TEETH ASSED, DECAYING OLD CEREAL BOX IN THE BACK OF A ROTTEN ASS FRIDGE LOOKING BITCH SELF. “

There’s no other WARNING — the warlord attempts to deliver Alastor a FULL FORCE DECK TO THE FACE.

“ STAY AWAY FROM MY FUCKING HUSBAND. “

     ALASTOR  DID  NOT  know this one.  She did not seem familiar,  perhaps a newcomer,  then,  during his absence.  He had heard some thoughts of a particular female in Vox's thoughts since he had returned,  though.  Given the immediate aggression,  the ire,  that he was met with,  he thought he was confident in claiming that this may have been Betty herself.  The words were little more than something to make him chuckle,  but he did not miss the wind - up to the punch.  And what a nasty hit that would have been,  had he not ducked into the shadows as quickly as he did,  melting away before she could touch him.  

He remained in the shadows around them for the moment,  a smile on his shadow's face as he regarded her.

        ❝  Bethanne,  yes?  I heard Vox mention you once or twice,  I was unaware you had tied the knot!  I was so sure he was too busy being caught up on me,  but congratulations,  dear!  Tell me,  is there a ceremony in the works I should be waiting for an invitation to?  ❞

     He reappeared,  then,  beside her,  one large tentacle manifesting to attempt to shove her as far to the side  &&  to the ground as he could.  Do not come at him unless you intended to be fought.

[voxxisms]

@staticintone stepped up to alastor !! guest muse event ( currently accepting! ) “You’re certainly something. How aggravating. You stay away from what’s mine, and I won’t have to take what’s yours.” ( Alastor fight Alastor fight )

     TWO  ALASTOR'S  in one room was not how vox thought his day would go.  for one to come out of nowhere,  to flood him with memories  &&  feelings,  to establish a frequency between the two of them that he previously did not have multiple of,  it was a little overwhelming.  such was the story of the multiverse theory,  truly,  but he had little he could do about it when the world was attempting to right itself with his presence.  alastor was here now,  though,  facing off against the other demon,  a tension growing between them.  alastor's words seemed to attract alastor's attention,  vox stuck between the two of them.

        ❝  i don't see how —  ❞   spoken aloud,  unable to rectify two separate frequencies when neither were created by himself,  but he was stopped when alastor pressed the end of his staff against his chest.  not painfully,  not anything very aggressive,  but very much enough to quiet his words.

        ❝  Hush,  Vox.  We're talking.  ❞    the flood of a memory,  of a particularly harsh hit to his screen,  as though intent was being delivered silently.   ❝  I do not believe you have a say,  my friend.  I'm not sure what sort of threat you're intending to make.  You also believe him to be yours?  Has he followed you like a dog waiting for a leash?  That's something you have an interest in?  ❞

        ❝  alastor,  this doesn't need to be a fight.  ❞

        ❝  It very much does,  Vox,  if he intends to make it one.  Now,  be quiet before I make you be quiet.  You still have plenty to explain later.  ❞

words exchanged between their own frequency,  before vox found himself deflating slightly,  unable to be the mediator he wished he could manage.  it wasn't as though either of them were going to listen to him,  clearly.  torn between wanting neither to suffer any harm,  he simply remained between them,  with alastor's hands gripping his shoulders still.  possesive.

        ❝  Do not tell me you're attached,  Alastor.  What is there to be so worried for?  Has he not changed?  Grown into his own,  more powerful than you last saw?  I'd be willing to bet you're closer than we were,  hm?  That seems to be the trend.  How unfortunate,  given how he is.  ❞

     Alastor had a unique insight,  too.  Able to tap right into Vox's near every thought.  Something he had found amusing most of the time,  &&  easy to tune out any other.  He was hearing slight recounts of their relationship,  unintentionally no doubt,  from Vox himself,  the way they fell apart,  that this Alastor hated him.  That he didn't know what he was doing here,  but how glad he was to see him,  how he wasn't sure what to do about this,  how he wanted them both to be safe,  whatever happened.  A pathetic little line of thought.  

        ❝  Surely you cannot still even like him?  ❞