#《 ◈ 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 ;; 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 ◈ 》

[staticintone]

@electriccapitalist replied to this

"Come near me and I'll rip your heart out through your teeth."

“Funny thing is… I’m pretty sure he said the same thing to me once.”

A quiet but malicious laugh.

“Wouldn’t you like to see the world a little differently? Wouldn’t you like me to be on your side? All it takes is a bit of reworking, an upgrade, if you will.”

[staticintone]

"Would you kindly JOIN THE VEES?"

“I—…”

How long was this curse supposed to last? No more than 24 hours, yes?

“Fine.”

[staticintone]

@cannibalxroses wants to meet up!

Two weeks since the extermination.

And what an embarrassing endeavor that turned out to be. Fighting offensively for once had left him open. And two good hits had him running. It left him with another scar, and a broken voice for longer than he’d ever admit.

They won. At the cost of the hotel, at the cost of hundreds of lives on either side.

He usually wouldn’t care about casualties. But these were respectable people. And more importantly, they were Rosie’s people. If it was anyone—anyone else—he would have laughed it off and moved on. But she was one of the few who didn’t have to fight him for an apology.

And he would apologize.

Walking a little slower the normal route. Planning different ways to say what he knew he’d end up admitting anyway. Would she be expecting him? This was a conversation suited to being in person anyway. He didn’t want to halfheartedly play repentant over a poor connection. If she really was upset, she would come up with excuses to shoo him out the door.

“Rosie? I think we should talk.”

A little ominous, sure. But the hushed tones wouldn’t give his anxiety away.

[staticintone]

@siempreminta && continued from here!

Her voice was wavering. Only more confirmation that she was upset. And the question was confirmation of… something. He still wasn’t sure what she was—a Sinner or otherwise—but she was new.

“Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you.”

She hadn’t answered his question. But the fact that she didn’t know who he was, what he was… Well, that explained why she had plopped herself directly onto his roof.

“And this is my territory you’ve decided to wallow in. So I will repeat myself—can I help you, dear?”

[staticintone]

@top-shelf-tender wants to meet up!

The extermination was quickly falling away into a bad memory.

Getting used to the new hotel was a trial in and of itself, Alastor was finding. Fine, he had been... unavailable while they rebuilt it. But that didn't mean he didn't have opinions on the place. He kept most of it to himself. Most of it.

"It's lifeless around here these days."

At the bar, to the bartender. Even if Husk asked for clarification, Alastor would change the subject never to revisit the topic.

There was a time when Alastor would have shared more, been more open, especially to Husk. But that well had dried up somewhere along the line, and Alastor was less invested on refilling it. Sure, it would have been nice to converse freely, but if that came with strings...

"Tell me Husker, what have I missed?"

He'd been injured, recovering alone in his room for most of the time. Alastor still refused to admit the extent of his injuries, and he wasn't about to start now.

[staticintone]

@voxxcd replied to this:

“I’m not getting that close to you,”

“What? You think I would eviscerate you during a waltz? How paranoid can one be?”

He’s offended. Obviously.

[staticintone]

@hazbinned wants to meet up!

Having any of the V’s suddenly make an appearance at the Hotel was one of the last things that Alastor wanted.

And frankly, it was surprising it was this one.

Valentino had his own reputation; setting almost every single person—staff or guest—on edge immediately. Alastor had actually made a small case for him, if for no other reason than to watch Angel Dust and Husk squirm. It equated to nothing more than hearing him out, which wouldn’t be enough to keep the wolves at bay for long.

In fact, Husk would probably have to be on a shorter leash than usual. But that was a worry for if and when it became an issue.

With everyone all but ignoring the moth, it was up to Alastor to make an introduction, and potentially even give a tour. He listened closely for any odd feedback, was careful when Valentino pulled out his phone, all in case this was just a plot to get bugs in his space. He wouldn’t put it past any of the V’s.

“I’m certain this is the welcome you were expecting, however cold it has been so far.”

He stood plainly, a good distance away, the same smile sewn in as always.

“Are you looking for a tour? I assume you’ll be investing, rather than staying here yourself.”

[staticintone]

@televisionrotsyourbrain wants to meet up!

The obligations were taken care of.

Alastor had been to the Hotel, had done his part to make nice with the Princess and her little occupants. He’d brought his own attendants in kind. But something was missing, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it about time he picked up what was rightfully his?

Oh, the Vees, they could pretend all they wanted. No news for as long as he was gone? Convenient. It wasn’t as though Alastor hadn’t done this before. He knew how far to go to keep something alive.

Yes, there were risks. Obviously.

Pulling something apart, putting it back together. Over and over and over and over again. Finding the right nerve endings to peel, to tear up and replace, to make it as painful as possible, that was only step one. The rest happened internally. Between the conditioning and the actual technical reworking… it had better have shown results.

His little creation was alive. If it wasn’t, that certainly had nothing to do with him.

Getting into the building was nothing. Effortless. Even if they had been trying to keep him out, they had failed. Finding him was harder. Not impossible, following transmissions and waves that seemed to throw in wild directions.

But there he was.

How much did he remember? Erasing memories as soon as they were formed hadn’t been easy, but he’d certainly tried.

“Did you miss me?”

[staticintone]

@voxuli wants to meet up!

Some things didn’t change.

With the excess of flower shops only growing larger, Alastor was perfectly content to partake. There had been a rumor floating around that Vox was no longer sick—good—except that it had quickly come back around. For a split second, Alastor had thought that Vox had known better. What a shock that he didn’t.

Alastor had sent Vox’s own flowers back to him. A little spiteful gift with a note attached that simply said ‘Condolences’. Vox could interpret that however he wanted. Whether it was about their little spat live on air or about his self-inflicted illness, that was open and entirely up to Vox.

He wasn’t sure if the other Demon would reach out afterwards. He certainly hadn’t heard anything in the days that followed. It was pure luck that he ran into him on the street.

Or maybe not.

He never knew with Vox. Maybe he’d been followed down the road.

“Well… there’s a sight to make your eyes sore.”

A joke, teasing. Mostly.

“What brings you out this way, old friend?”

[staticintone]

@arachnaemboss replied to this!

ah, so he is asking everyone.

“Lucky for you that you were able to say no.”

[staticintone]

🕯 Val 😜

I don’t get it.

He’s disinterested, unfocused, volatile. He never thinks before speaking, and acts unfiltered entirely.

But also… he seems legitimate.

There’s something honest in his instability. If Vox was looking for something brazen and bold, he found it. Only at the cost of courtesy and etiquette.

It’s interesting.

I don’t hate it.

I don’t like it either, but it’s intriguing enough to find out more.

[staticintone]

WHY IS IT TURNING OUT LIKE THIS!

“… How we have anything in common is incredibly shocking to me.”

[staticintone]

“You really refuse to dance with me? What a shame.”

[staticintone]

@outofradios wants to meet up!

The walk felt… different today.

Now, there wasn’t an obvious shift. No swirling vortex, no portal he’d clearly stepped through. Everything was still in dark hues; this was still Hell. Still Pentagram City.

But the air waves felt odd. Frequencies dancing that he hadn’t heard before. Pieces missing that he had explicitly placed there. Nothing cut, just shifted. His first thought was accurate. Someone was pushing things around.

He just didn’t know how accurate it was.

And putting eyes on the culprit had him more confused than concerned. He hadn’t seen people make the mistake of pretending to be him since the early days. And this must have been a pretender, for one reason alone.

The stitches.

Static filling the space as he approached. This wasn’t a fight, or wasn’t intended to be one. He just wanted to hear this for himself. The voice, the mannerisms, of this copy. The gravity of the situation not quite hitting him yet.

“You’re… interesting. Are you new?”

[staticintone]

@wiltingwoes wants a dance at the blood ball!

Alastor was the exact opposite of a wallflower at events like this.

Even when there was time between dances, and he made the time, he would usually find himself caught between conversations. Usually, a masquerade would allow for some anonymity, but it was wasn’t as though he could disguise his entire presence, now could he?

There were a few free moments here and there, and during one in particular he noticed someone who he wouldn’t recognize even beyond the mask. She didn’t seem particularly uninvolved in the festivities, as though she were dragged here by an overenthusiastic date. No, she was just silent and alone.

And he was curious.

“Any reason you’re not dancing? Or have you just not found a partner yet?”

[staticintone]

The Nephilim sat on the roof of the radio tower, glancing towards the hellish sky where she fell from. Her memory was spotty, only remembering as far as when the Exorcist curmt her down and tore out her physical wings.

The pain somehow still lingered there.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she began to wrack her brain of what the next course of action would be, tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes.

As wild and unpredictable as the ones Alastor was familiar with were, none of them would willingly sit atop the radio tower as if waiting for him.

He heard the girl before he really saw her. The telltale sounds of sorrow, of holding back sobs. He hoped that by listening further, he might find a reason for the heavy emotion. But she was quiet. So he dragged himself by shadow to the space behind her.

Cocking his head, looking and listening for any more information. Her back looked… wrong. Like there were bones in incorrect places. She didn’t even really look like a Demon. Maybe she wasn’t.

Strange.

“Can I help you?”

It was even toned, but the furthest thing from cold.