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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years ago

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Peace Talks, Pt. 1 (3/5/2021)

Alastor #1 (@usedhearts) contacts Alastor #2 (hi there) to ask #2 about why he intervened in #1’s fight with Sir Pentious (who #2 happens to be dating secretly). They meet up to discuss the fight, why that Alastor & Pent hate each other, and potentially how to reduce hostilities between them so these fights don’t keep happening.

(Part 2 where my Alastor goes and gets Sir Pentious’s side is here.)

usedhearts

🩸Alastor, I think we need to have a chat.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 What luck, I've been telling myself the same thing for a couple of weeks! Let's do lunch. I know a very discreet little café that loves to leave me alone and would be twice as happy to do so with two of us there.

usedhearts

🩸Send me the address, I'll meet you there.

dontasktheradiodemon

[Sends an address, as well as a picture of a map with the location circled in sharpie.]

usedhearts

🩸See you soon.

dontasktheradiodemon

🎶 I'll be waiting!

–––

dontasktheradiodemon

The café was an ugly place, in Alastor's opinion—concrete floors and walls, black-painted wooden booths, naked bulbs hanging from simple pipes—but attempting to look like abandoned warehouses was the fashion of cutting-edge restaurants these days, wasn't it? And anyway the coffee was decent and the employees didn't run out the back door when Alastor showed up, so it would do. He got a cup of coffee and some ridiculous fancy toast, claimed a booth, and waited.

usedhearts

He didn't have to wait long-- but a few minutes later and Leclerq was walking in as well, receiving more than a few double takes. He'd swapped his glasses back for his monocle, and his coat was on-- the only thing differentiating him from his alternate his slight longer, wavy hair. Leclerq's smile turned a bit mischievous as the staff looked between him and Alastor, trying to be sure they weren't seeing double. He made his way over to the table and sat, ordering a cup of the strongest they had, black, from a passing staff person.

"So, my dear self, how's things?" He asked, looking at his gloves nails, feigning nonchalance.

dontasktheradiodemon

Alastor smiled innocently at the staff's baffled glances. What, never seen two radios at once?

He beamed a little more brightly at his alternate—although there was wariness underneath it. He knew full well what this was about; what he didn't know yet was how, exactly, his alternate had taken it, or how bad the consequences were going to be.

"All going well! I can't complain." Walking on cloud nine and head a little foggy, in fact, but he was sure his alternate didn't want to know the details and even more sure he didn't want to share them. "And how about you—doing well, I hope?" With a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, "Recovered from those snake bites, I hope?" No point beating around the bush for *too* long.

usedhearts

The beaming grin was normal for Alastors in general, but considering the reason they were there, seeing his alternate looking at _him_ like that was a bit...strange. Leclerq crossed his legs, and took a sip of the coffee set in front of him as soon as it arrived.

"Yes, recovered. Only took me a day to get back into working order. I suppose Pentell is doing fine now, considering he posted about his successful shed." He took a breath, smile firm as he folded his hands in his lap.

"Why did you interfere? You could've let someone else stop us. Charlie could've taken care of it herself, even, if she hadn't been panicking. Why not talk her down and get her to do it, instead of showing up yourself? And so _quickly_, too. We'd hardly even maimed each other by the time you showed up." Leclerq's eyes narrowed a fraction. "I simply must know why go through all that trouble? Explain it to me."

dontasktheradiodemon

“Glad to hear it!” He didn’t respond directly to the comment about the shed, only offering a vague shrug as if he wouldn’t know. He didn’t even flinch at the revelation that his alternate knew Sir Pentious’s real name... although he was certainly going to ask Telly about it later.

And his alternate had given him room to wiggle around with his answer. How very polite. They’d dance around it a bit. “*If she hadn’t been panicking.*” He scoffed. “That’s quite a big ‘if,’ isn’t it! Sure, I could have wasted three minutes of my time talking her down, and then twiddled my thumbs while waiting to see what she’d do—waste even more time trying to talk down the both of you? Join the fight herself and cause even more property damage? Or, I could resolve the whole thing with no further trouble in a mere fifteen seconds.”

usedhearts

Leclerq leaned in, propping his elbow on the table, chin in his hand. His head tilted at an odd angle and he picked up his coffee and took a drink.

"Yes, that's probably how it would've gone. But why stop it in the first place? Not like either of us can actually kill the other. Surely you weren't worried about _me_. If it had been me, I would've shown up with popcorn and a lawn chair. Fights between demons are free entertainment after all."

He sat back, arms crossing over his chest. "So, I'll ask again. _Why_ did you interfere?"

dontasktheradiodemon

“I have a question for *you* first.” He sat forward, lacing his hands under his chin, fixing his alternate with a keen, genuinely curious look. “It’s relevant, I assure you—but why fight him at all? It can’t be because he’s a challenging opponent—without his tin cans, there’s nothing stopping you from tying him in knots. And I don’t know about *your* policies, but *I* don’t tend to attack the physically weak unless I’m starving and don’t think a total stranger will miss a few pounds of meat—*or,* they’ve done something so outrageously offensive as to earn it. Now, he’s clearly no stranger, so the first explanation doesn’t apply—but for the life of me I can’t imagine *what* he could have done to warrant that kind of response? Or what *you* did to make *him* attack first, if that’s how it happened—but that seems even less likely to me, I can’t see him picking a fight without a dozen lasers at the ready.”

usedhearts

"He _does_ start it sometimes," Leclerq said, immediately. His smile twitched and his eyes narrowed again, before he gave a small huff and looked away.

"I suppose I knew it would come to this eventually, what with the both of us making friends in the same circles." He moved his monocle, taking it off to clean the lens, or so it seemed. "We used to be friends. When I first dropped in, he was an Overlord, and my massacre helped him gain some more ground, inadvertently. I started getting invited to all the big Overlord parties, and I went because I was still new to Hell and all. We met and hit it off, became friends and whatnot. About a decade later, we hardly spoke, and then V[BEEP]x dropped in and started his rise to power. Pentell was already washed up by that point, desperate, so he..."

Leclerq sighed and shook his head, putting his monocle back on, his smile turning wane. "He helped V[BEEP]x secretly convert some of the old radio stations to broadcast tv instead-- I don't know if it's the same for you, but for me, it felt like someone was tearing out pieces of my soul and roasting them with ten thousand volts. I don't know why or what V[BEEP]x promised him, but obviously he never got it, considering his standing hasn't changed since then."

Leclerq shrugged, feigning nonchalance again. "That's why I hate him."

dontasktheradiodemon

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up. “And a fair reason to hate him!” He himself didn’t hold any radio stations—had *never* held any—but just *imagining* stations slaughtered like sacrificial animals on the altar of network television made his heart squeeze in pain.

That long ago, stations had often broadcasted both radio and TV simultaneously. Hell, well into the seventies Alastor had considered a smattering of TV stations under his own protection because they shared a roof with a radio station. For the stations to be converted to broadcast TV in a way that *killed* their potential to broadcast radio—that wasn’t just the new guy in Hell wanting to increase his own power; that was a deliberate effort to decrease the Radio Demon’s. That was far worse than simply trying to get in good with two different overlords and accidentally screwing over one in the process.

“You said you hardly spoke—had you had some falling out...? Not that it’s any sort of mitigating factor, not for an action on *that* scale, but—well, nothing of the sort ever happened *here,* so I’m simply trying to understand the narrative! The treachery is self-evident, but depending on if it was motivated by hot vengeance or cold ambition... well, it certainly changes the *flavor* of the treachery, doesn’t it?”

usedhearts

He hadn't expected sympathy, or understanding, but then again, this was himself. If anyone would understand his pain, it was another version of himself. Leclerq felt himself relax, at least fractionally, and he picked up his cup for another sip of coffee.

"Yes, there was. Around, oh, '45 or so, Pentell was gearing up for a big push to conquer more territory-- he had a whole plan and everything, you know how he is, prepared every meticulous detail. _I_ was one of those details, of course. He was counting on my support when he set things into motion and I....well, I didn't show." He shrugged a bit, taking another sip.

"I'd gotten bored of waiting, I was still relatively new to Hell, and a decade still seemed like a long time-- especially for one such as us, you know how it is, don't you?-- and so I'd picked up some other hobbies, started doing other things. And I just didn't want to help anymore. I was _bored_, I never wanted to conquer Hell! But Pentell had been banking on my power backing him, and when I didn't arrive, well...."

His smile twisted a bit before he sighed. "It all sort of blew up in his face. He lost almost all of his territory and his Overlord title was stripped-- he became a laughing stock overnight. So, I suppose I betrayed him first, but this IS Hell. Who can you trust in Hell, except yourself?" His smile twitched into something wry for a moment as he met his alternate's eyes, then looked away.

dontasktheradiodemon

And his eyebrows twitched higher. He’d gotten *bored*? Bored of Sir Pentious, of all people? How in the world was that possible? How does one get *bored* of having a front-row seat to the greatest drama in Hell since whatever the hell happened in *Paradise Lost*?

Would he himself have left as quickly and carelessly if he’d gotten bored? Even if he couldn’t understand how *that person* in *particular* had bored his alternate—yes, if he *did* get bored of someone, he’d leave like that. Would he himself have stayed long enough to get as enthralled as he did if he’d met Sir Pentious in, what, the ‘30s, rather than in ‘51? He didn’t know. He didn’t think he’d have lost interest, but he didn’t know. Learning to exist in Hell had been a process. Maybe those eighteen years had made a difference.

“Well! If I were him, I’d want to hit you where it hurts too!” He laughed wryly. “And if I were *you*, I’d never forgive him for it, either.”

usedhearts

Leclerq took drained his coffee the rest of the way, holding his cup out for a refill-- which a staff member came over to give him as quickly as demonly possible. He set the new cup on the table, holding it between his hands.

"Yes, so, as you can see neither of us can forgive the other, and now we're expecting to exist near one another more regularly and tempers flare at the slightest provocation, etcetera, etcertera." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his smile tight and close lipped.

"I know that many of you are now mutual friends with the both of us, and I've been trying to be on my best behavior when at the Hotel, as we've a truce there, but the old resentments bubble up and we go at it. Generally, it's me blowing up his ship but since we've been seeing one another in person, it's just gotten to basic brawls." A small growl slipped out and he clenched his hand, cracking the cup and spilling hot coffee all over, though he didn't seem to care.

"I should have better control, but with him I just-- I see red--" A snort. "Or more red than usual at least-- and then we're tumbling around like feral animals."

dontasktheradiodemon

Alastor watched without a twitch of his expression as his alternate’s cup cracked. Yes, he certainly could comprehend the anger.

But when he tried to imagine the anger behind that shattering grip turned on Telly—his blood boiled.

“Yes, well. That’s a problem, isn’t it?”

usedhearts

Leclerq grabbed some napkins, wiping off his gloved hand and sitting back, watching the coffee spread across the table. He put some more napkins between him and the coffee puddle-- no use letting it get on him-- and sighed.

"That's the problem, yes." He looked over at him and arched a brow. "And you still haven't answered my question-- why did you intervene?"

dontasktheradiodemon

His smile tightened. “Well, like you said—quite a few people are mutual friends with the both of you now! And while it’s an utter delight to watch *strangers* fight, there’s nothing pleasant about it when it involves friends! Particularly if one friend is at risk of being reduced to bone toothpicks and flesh confetti. And that’s even *more* the case when, from my perspective, the fight simply came out of nowhere! Who knows what will happen in a fight like that?” He shrugged broadly. “Now, typically if a friend’s in a fight, I’m happy to lend a hand—but it’s tricky if I’m on good terms with both combatants. The best thing I can do then is ensure they’re separated.”

usedhearts

Leclerq hummed, the noise droning in his static, his arms crossing again. His finger began to tap against his upper arm, and his foot tapped again-- fidgeting tics that were showing themselves in his alternate's presence.

"I suppose you're right. Fine, I accept that explanation." His cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing a fraction. "But I don't know how Pentell and I are going to co-exist when we're at each others' throats. The Hotel's been a test run and we've had at least three fights since he started making repairs and renovations there. Any bright ideas in that big bulb of yours?"

dontasktheradiodemon

*Three fights.* He tilted his head as he thought. “No, not yet.” Maybe he could persuade Telly to stop helping with the hotel upkeep. There were so many more important things he could be spending that time and effort on, anyway. Sure, Alastor was at the hotel, but only because he *wanted* to watch a train wreck happen in action—but there was no reason for Sir Pentious to waste his time tightening the bolts on the locomotive engine when it was chugging toward a fiery crash. “But I’m sure we both agree that this can’t keep happening, don’t we?”

usedhearts

"Yes, I agree. Especially if people are going to get in the middle now-- I can't even think if it was Valera next time, while she's, well..." He motioned with his hands to pantomime a pregnant belly. "I don't want her trying to get between us while we go at it-- we're both vicious in the moment."

His foot tapped a little faster and he huffed. "Perhaps I can just avoid him for now...and I'll try to doubly make sure I have a tight leash on myself if he is around. And perhaps you could talk to him, you two are chummy now, aren't you? We just need to learn to....keep our heads better."

dontasktheradiodemon

Oh right, this alternate had been getting chummy with Valera, hadn’t he? About every alternate but himself was. Just his rotten luck, wasn’t it.

“If you haven’t *already* been trying to avoid him, yes, I recommend it.” He scooted his unfinished coffee over to his alternate. Here, you look anxious, have a little more caffeine and calm down. “No promises, I haven’t the foggiest idea what he’s going to say about *you*—but I’ll see what I can do.”

usedhearts

He took the cup gratefully and downed it, taking a breath after. "Probably something along the lines of--" His own voice cut out and then, in a perfect imitation of Sir Pentious's voice, he said. "HE DESSSERVED IT!"

Leclerq snorted and his own voice was back when he spoke again. "I may have cast the first stone, but teaming up with V[beep]x is just.....scummy."

dontasktheradiodemon

Alastor huffed. “Not to defend the unforgivable—but ol’ blockhead had only just died, hadn’t he? In my neck of the woods, it took until the seventies before he started showing his true colors. Taking down stations, sure, Sir Pentious should have known better—but doing it with *him*? There was no way to know what kinds of things he’d do *before* he started doing them.”

And who knew what promises Vox might have made? No doubt the sort of promises he made to every business and network he added to his growing mega-corporation. Fame, wealth, power, a treasured and valued position in his inner circle.

Alastor thought he was beginning to detect a pattern, here. Pentell, lonely and unappreciated; and then one man after another, charismatic and compelling, telling Pentell how much they adored his brilliant inventions; each of them using him—for sex, for entertainment, for power—before losing interest and casting him aside.

It was only when he heard something crack that he realized he’d started squeezing one of his fists in the other like a stress ball. He stretched his fingers and surreptitiously repaired the damage. But in his head, over and over, all he could hear were the words *how dare—how dare—how dare—*

usedhearts

"Yes, he had, and he's a cunning rat even moreso than that boyfriend of his." Leclerq sneered at the thought of the VVVs, and held the empty coffee cup, just to have something to hold on to. "Though he started being really ruthless once he found Valentino-- that was in the 80s here, I'm not sure when it happened for you. They really bring out the worst in each other, and not in the fun way."

His eyebrows shot up at the sound of the crack, looking down at his alternate's hands. "You alright there?" He asked, a little quieter than before.

dontasktheradiodemon

“About the same time, late seventies or early eighties. I wasn’t paying attention to celebrity gossip at the time. All I know is they’d made it into the toxic end of things by the mid-eighties.”

He held up a hand and wiggled his fingers, all fine. “So sorry, I know, knuckle-cracking, nasty habit to get into. Mother would be scolding me.”

usedhearts

"I only know because I was friends with Madame by that point and Valentino started out as one of her's." He tapped his fingers against the cup, still fidgety despite the caffeine.

"Well, since we hashed that out, is that it? Or did you want to brainstorm ways to get me and Pentell able to coexist in the same space without biting each other's heads off?"

dontasktheradiodemon

And Alastor only knew because he’d witnessed the results of their toxic sides up close and in person. He decided to keep that to himself. As much as he hated Vox, that wasn’t his dirt to dish.

“I’m not sure what there is to brainstorm,” Alastor said wryly. “If you’re in the same space, don’t be; if you have to be, don’t interact. If you haven’t been doing even *that* much before, I’d say that’s a good starting point, don’t you?”

usedhearts

"We have, since we made the truce, at least when inside the Hotel. But the second one of us steps outside, it's on." He leaned back in his seat a bit.

"We never made an official deal for our truce, but I gave my word, and I keep it, to the letter. We never fight inside the Hotel now-- we take it outside. Though the lawn isn't much better. I suppose I can try to keep the truce up outside the Hotel. If I think about it like that, perhaps it'll be easier to keep myself in check..."

dontasktheradiodemon

He fights a grimace. “Well. ‘Do what you’re already doing, except even more so, and hope sheer willpower makes up the difference’ doesn’t exactly sound to me like a winning strategy. Especially when what you’re already doing has resulted in three fights.”

usedhearts

"I'm not sure what other options we have, at least for now. Avoidance and sheer willpower will have to do for the time being." He closed his eyes and took a breath.

"Talk to Pentell, I'm sure he's got insight from his side of things for you. Perhaps there's...something that can be done, to at least make things less hostile between us. You can tell him I'd be open to negotiations-- for the sake of our mutual friends. But for now, I think I need to go-- I need to kill something."

He stood, dusting off his jacket. "Is there anything else, my dear other?"

dontasktheradiodemon

He stood as well. “Yes, one thing—who’s going to pick up the bill?” Studio laughter. “Hah! No, nothing I can think of. Just try not to start any more brawls. I don’t want to make a hobby out of refereeing.”

usedhearts

"That'd be terrible! You'd look horrendous in horizontal stripes!" His own studio kicked in with their laughs, and Leclerq reached a hand to pat his alternate's shoulder.

"Speak again, soon, my dear me! So long!" And with that he faded into the shadows.

dontasktheradiodemon

He offered his other a half-bow in farewell—and then headed for the exit the more conventional way. Seemed like he needed to go have another conversation.

#usedhearts #chat log

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