#((that is him cozy face!! soft coat it GUD))

[a-hazbin-spider]

Angel’s chin finds a place in his palms, a cozy curl to listen to the tellings of the voice that managed to be tinny and warm all at once. Dancing, and live jazz, just talking about it brings him one of the few comforts of life. Learning there are still some relics simple as that make hell just a little bit brighter. He certainly didn’t live long, so there was a rather particular slice of time, and a rather limited list of the good things to cherish.

“Yeh, I saw, tha woman has joints of steel. Makes sense you’d be friends with another performer- they’s tha ones that really see tha work ya put in. She only had nice things t’say about ya, that’s fa sure. I wouldn’t doubt you’s got some real skill!” There wasn’t a ton else he could say about Mimzy, aside from her troublesome nature likely being part of what drove the two into getting along so smoothly next to their appreciation of art form, and abundantly strong alcohol tolerance. “Ya voice, though. I c’n see why you’d be proud of it. You got a wide range, ya sing well, an’- it’s a lil different but I ain’t think I even heard ya stutter b’fore.”

It’s an oddly lucky break that he had wound up around a name that he’d only ever heard of in passing, or in the background of a drug-induced haze before. Mimzy’s appearance said more about Alastor than anything else had. And the more he had been allowed time with him, the more he found between his commitment to his era and sardonic wit.

The faceless subject took form before him, and whatever ramblings he heard never did quite manage to do it justice. All they ever did was supply a few blurry shapes to make sense of. Giving a camera lens a thick smear of Vaseline all over and being left with an obscure image to stare at helplessly under red light. He might not have every piece yet either, but he can see much more clearly who resides within that position of power and holds his grounds with no give to be seen. Someone brutal, but passionate all the same. Yeah. That’s an artist for you. It is astonishing that it connects with him knowing so many.

“I’m sure you’s a gorgeous dancer, Al. It’d be lucky to see a live performance I think.” Oh. Weird. That was far more genuine to the ears than he usually allows. But. Like Al and Mimzy had both vouched for: he was at least at some point, able to dance and swing even when he was likely plastered. Not only that, but he never misstepped anytime that Angel had seen him. Maybe his main niche was radio, but the other man consistently brought himself forth with so much grace. So if anything he had something to fall back on should Alastor find issue with compliments. He’d meant it though. All of this he’d been truthful about.

“Wait, me? I’m sure m’ a lil rusty. Nobody wants to see me do that no more if they eva’ did. Er- I… do pole performances, that c’n be fun. But, I kinda miss dancin’ to swing. To polkas, waltzes, all that.” A hand gestures vaguely, like he has a somewhat dismissive over it. And like there were a number of words to say that don’t amount to anything. Oh well.

What Alastor does share happened to feed Angel through enough. Similarities and a seemingly familiar topic to work with really puts the spider to some sort of ease. Felt simple, more natural to talk this way. Even if he has been kept up to date and all that, it felt nice like this, almost nostalgic. But above all else, he felt more understood like this. The stag had a way here to relax him.

Be it his tastes of coffee, the casual cigarettes and almost dismissive attitude on the substances that kept him going that were so highly scrutinized- Angel is at ease. And listening to him talk about nothing and everything was delightful, he can see why hosting suited him so much. Even if Alastor spoke of nothing at all, it brought a surprising amount of contentment. Worked a soft little smile onto his face.

Truth be told he may have a few certain childish opinions, but Alastor’s sophistication didn’t boil down just to him taking coffee in an ‘adult’ way, hell Angel took it any way he could, and never thought of himself as sophisticated while drinking it black. But seeing it fit with Alastor, it had a certain addition to some of the rest of him. Refined, composed, his attachment to products of their time, poise and taste of both the rigid and the tame. With the usual apathetic nature that could be mixed well with some kind of elegance- it really was nice to see that the mannerly aspect could be shown in kindness too. And better yet, a sort of friendliness in the moment of calm.

Hearing Alastor be talkative was better than one might think, even if topics were casual, Angel seemed to be eating it up. His head nodding well to things he’d understood. Recognizable things for being around merely a decade past Alastor’s demise.

“Oh yeah, she did say that… Almos’ forgot. I figured that you’s would be tha party- tha artistic type. Tha ones who used to get through their day for a wage or what have you- that ain’t quite fit. Lettin’ loose an’ gettin’ a feel fa jazz at some nice joint- that made more sense. Your whole thing s’ radio, a’course you’s an artist.”

His reasoning seemed to make perfect sense to himself, but he was otherwise just enjoying Alastor’s chatter. He was sufficiently supplied with painkilling something or another and had been lucky to be fed too. There wasn’t much need for him to be super coherent, so long as his message got across.

“I r’member that, yeh- bein’ alive, there wasn’t a huge public stink on drugs like that… in fact, a good chunk of my life- it was trickier to get booze around. Y’know? Granted, it was still s’posed t’be illegal or whatever. But, like- tha’ twenties, thirties n’ all that was full of it anyway.” A free hand gestured vaguely, and the small recollection of what it was like, that actually tickled him a little. What a joke. But to him, most things were. There was little he couldn’t make a joke of if he really tried.

“Sure a gent like you was a damn delight t’ have in them speakeasies or clubs. You probably did plenty of performing too, huh?”