[May 2020]

Somehow, after explicitly asking his colleague not to get involved, Alastor found himself sitting stiffly in a chair across from Terese as an overeager Charlie offered to help them talk things out. Terri pleasantly sipped tea and donned a deceivingly cooperative facial expression as she very obviously (to Alastor) prepared to play mind games.

Since Charlie had already failed to take him seriously when he said he didn't want a mediation, Alastor abandoned this approach and offered a new criticism. "Charlotte, what, precisely, makes you qualified to oversee a mediation?"

Charlie spread her hands in frustration. "Al, I'm a licensed therapist. You know that."

The sound of a record screeching emitted from Al's radio speaker. "Excuse me?"

'Ooh!' thought Terri, always willing to accept a challenge to play on 'hard mode.'

"What do you mean, 'Excuse me?' Alastor, how could I run a rehab facility without a license?"

"It's Hell, Princess, you don't need to obey the regulations! Are you serious?" Amusement briefly replaced Alastor's irritability. "Rewind. I must ask you to explain how you studied to be a licensed therapist in Hell. A therapist in Hell is probably the only thing scarier than a lawyer in Hell, so please regale us with stories of who trained you? What almost-certainly-disbarred, manipulative psychopath trained you?"

"Alastor," Charlie groaned, reasonably offended that he seemed to have legitimately not known this about her. Apparently he had thought she was just an incompetent ivory tower darling, who had not prepared sufficiently to bring her dreams to fruition. Like everyone else. Why was she surprised?

"He has a point," Terri acknowledged. "There must be a hilarious backstory to this."

"I'm glad to see you two agreeing on something," Charlie said, and they both looked at her sourly. "I feel like you'd both get more out of this if you felt more comfortable around each other while you're here."

"Why are you speaking as if I'm one of the clientele?" Al asked her, and absolutely did not appreciate the suspiciously silent, awkward foot shuffle she responded with.

"I'm hoping we can talk through the source of this."

Terri took it straight from 0 to at least 50 right away. "He thinks I'm here to kill him," she said, making the 'crazy' symbol again. "Ironic, when he's the one who's famously preoccupied with vengeance. From what I've heard, he's 120 years old and still playing 'Ghost Rider.'" This was in reference to Alastor's widely-known personal war on Hell's other overlords, who, as you might imagine, tended to be the worst of the worst. As Alastor glared at her, Terri joked, "Are you trying to use 'Penance Stare?'"

"What do you mean by 'still' playing?" Charlie inquired.

"We used to go hunting together quite often. He only wanted to hunt the 'bad guys.' It was a cute game."

"It wasn't a game to me," Alastor hissed.

"So, to be clear," Charlie interrupted, "you encouraged killing, albeit as part of vigilante justice?"

"Why shouldn't I have?"

After a long pause, Charlie clapped her hands together and exhaled into the narrow space between them, fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose. "How to say this? …Most mothers don't actively encourage their children to do things that will probably get them sent to Hell."

"Well… I thought I'd never get anywhere near the other place!" said Terri, thrown off her game by genuine confusion.

'Conveniently eliminates the competition, too- forever. Doesn't it?' Alastor thought accusingly. He took the opportunity to ask Charlie, irately, "Do. You. See?" Surely Terese's toxic attitude was obvious now.

"So this was at least partly about... keeping him within arm's reach?" asked the princess, looking a bit green. "Even though it's not a good place for him to be?"

Terri briefly looked affronted, then laughed. "But I knew he would be safe! It would be different if I hadn't ensured that he could protect himself!"

"You mean the power he...got from you?" Charlie clarified, using the vaguest verb possible. She was legitimately unsure of how to untangle this mystery, given what little information she'd received, so she moved on. "Would you... like to go into some more detail on what did bring you here?" Remembering that Terri originally claimed to have visited to make amends, Charlie hoped to at last begin reconciliation-related discussion.

"Wait," Alastor interjected. "How are you so easily distracted from that gem?"

Terri internally grinned ear to ear. Based on the tender way Alastor had been snuggling with the Terri doll in his sleep, this little yarn was bound to be tons of fun! She was ready to investigate whether he had been fully aware of the natural chain of events that his binding spell would cause. Knowing full well this was not what Charlie had meant in posing the question, she answered in an obtusely (psuedo)literal way. "Well, I appear to have died, bright eyes."

Alastor did not even look her in the face or bat an eyelash. "She has not died," he argued tiredly.

"That's cute, Button. How do you infer that?"

"What ungodly age would that have made you as a human, if you just died recently?"

"My spirit was trapped in the house for a long time in that binding spell you put on me. You outdid yourself. Care to explain what broke it?" Her arm dramatically fake-twitched, causing some liquid to fly out of the cup. 'Oops,' she mouthed sarcastically, 'spilled some tea.'

"Binding spell?" Charlie peeped and received no answer. "Hold on a second-"

Again, once Terri introduced the idea, Alastor decided to rip the bandaid right off. "Very flattering for you to suggest it, Terese, but in what universe am I powerful enough to override the will of God or Lucifer with a simple voodoo spell? If they wanted you in Hell, you would have been here immediately. This," said Alastor, looking at Charlie as he gestured at Terri, "has not died. Or if she has died, she is not a dead human. She's a hellion of some variety I haven't deduced yet."

Terri wove her lies through lanes of obstacles with the expertise of a New York taxi driver. "On the contrary- and I'm as surprised as you are- if I find myself having fallen automatically to the Pride Ring, that would indeed suggest I was mortal once." She mock-shivered in distaste. "Glad I forgot."

"Forgot?" Al uttered, exasperated.

"It's true I was no longer what you'd call 'human' by the time I met him," Terri admitted to Charlie as her ex-son snorted at the understatement.

"I was about to ask how you were able to grant him power like that if you were human," Charlie noted.

"I've been around a long time, and I accumulated a lot. But if I'm being honest, I'm not altogether clear on where I started out."

"That can happen," Charlie acknowledged.

"That did not happen. She has a whole backstory!" Alastor craned his neck at Terri with narrowed eyes. "Unless, of course, that was a yarn as well, which seems likely. She tried to earn my sympathy by claiming to have been disinherited and disowned by her family. She has the notion that she was supposed to be the queen of something. But, interestingly, she never provided any more detail."

"Did it occur to you that I may not be aware of any more than that? I'm hazy on it, but...I know it was true."

"This. Is not. A dead human who simply can't remember her mortal origins!"

"It sounds at least plausible, Al! Now someone please tell me more about why there was a binding spell," Charlie tried.

"Which leads me to my next point! Because she is probably not dead- and if she is, she's not a dead human- she has no use of this service. Therefore she has no reason to be here, and she can go."

"She did come right to the Pride Ring," the princess argued.

"She did not fall to the Pride Ring- she's always been able to travel to Hell! She's probably something that got banished from Hell for inventing a whole new level of insufferability. Maybe one of the Goetic families disowned her. Try asking around."

"Have you ever heard of someone being banished from Hell?"

"Maybe she got sent to her own circle." Al looked snarkily at Terri. "Maybe that's what that pitiful little den was."

"Do you see how he speaks to me?" said Terri.

"She was always able to travel to Hell, but she never stayed, even though it seemed like a way to make hunting easier."

"Hunting what exactly?" Again- no surprises- Charlie did not receive an answer.

"She must not have been able to stay long because something was watching. And that," Al said, looking victorious, "is one of the, I imagine, several real reasons why she's here. Your spell-" He pointed at Charlie. "-helps hide her from whatever doesn't want her to be here!"

"This sounds awfully far-fetched, don't you think?" Terri interjected.

"When I was a kid-" Al's eyes widened. "When I was a kid, she took me to LooLoo Land!"

"You mean LuLu World?" Charlie asked.

"No." Alastor's eyes flashed with glee. He had finally struck gold with this example. "LooLoo Land. When it was first getting started as a simple carnival."

Charlie was perplexed. "But that's in the Greed Ring. Only native hellions can enter those rings," she said as Al spread his arms wide, smile closed and stiff, nodding as if she were supporting his point rather than disproving it. "But human souls can't… And you would have been a living one at the time."

"And if she can pull that off, that suggests that she's something very strange. Very. Suspiciously. Strange. Something much more powerful than she's suggesting. Something that can break a lot of rules. Something that was almost certainly never human!"

"Come on, there's no way she could have gotten you into LooLoo Land, Al."

"This was a dream you had, Button," Terri added calmly and sipped more of her tea, as Al's speaker emitted strangled rage sounds through radio static. He had a better example, but he was desperately controlling the urge to state it aloud to avoid inciting a panic. "Imagine. Even if it had happened. He's painting a real picture of what a terrible mother I was. Taking him to theme parks and all. How do I even tolerate myself, Charlie?" Terri mock-gasped dramatically, throwing a hand over forehead.

Sounding oddly as if he were on the verge of a panic attack, or as close to one as Alastor could get, the deer demon once again repeated, "She's not DEAD!" This left his mouth with more force than intended and was met by uncomfortable silence as Charlie made a 'What's gotten into you?' face and the radio wildly spun through stations.

"Well," Terri chirped. "You've sure repeated that a lot. Care to explore why this is such an important point to you, dear?"

Unable to tolerate keeping the weighty secret anymore, Vaggie, who had been surreptitiously listening through the door, entered the room, doll in hand. "I think I can help answer some questions."

Charlie whipped around in surprise, prepared to shout something along the lines of 'What's gotten into you?' She was taken aback by her girlfriend's sudden out-of-character disrespect for the privacy of others. But when she saw the doll, she froze and blinked weakly. Ohhhh, whatever that thing was, it had the look of impending escalation. There was a simultaneous collection of surprised sounds, including a "What the heaven is that?" from Charlie, a "Don't make me think about it!" from Terri, and a "Put that down immediately!" from Alastor.

"I found this wrapped in an amount of twine the length of a small swimming pool with a giant nail in the heart," Vaggie explained, pointing at the hole left behind in the cloth figure.

"Did I not just say don't make me think about it?" Terri said.

Disoriented and perturbed, Charlie asked, "About what?"

"How I died. How my own child killed me."

Al helplessly opened his mouth, then closed his mouth, looking paler than usual. All noise, even white noise from the radio, ceased with a small popping sound, as though the speaker had died.

'Stabbed the dragon through the heart,' repeated in Charlie's head. Shit. That. Tracked. Her hand flew to her mouth.

Seeing what she was thinking, Terri explained, "Well...not like that, literally. It was a much slower, more torturous death than a stabbing. He starved me to death."

Alastor snapped softly, with hints of emotion, "Stop it." He was disappointed as he said them that these were the only words he could come up with. "That is not a fair depiction!"

"It's accurate! You put me in a binding spell, trapped me in the house without food, and I starved to death, slowly. And once I was good and dead, my spirit stayed trapped in solitary confinement. This was all over the course of about 90 years. Even if you claim you didn't mean to kill me, you didn't care about what happened to me or how I might be suffering. You never checked!" Although this claim was partly false, the outrage in Terri's voice was real. The genuine anguish this had caused her was bubbling over, and Alastor noticed. He was beginning to fear that while she may not be telling the whole truth, at least some of this was legitimate, and whatever had happened to her may have been truly horrific- much more horrific than what he had intended.

Al began talking over her as though desperate not to hear. "This may be the ideal time to explain that by food she means innocent people." He gripped his cane, thudded it against the floor. "Not public menaces. Innocent people. Usually children, who aren't necessarily so much as unpleasant let alone bad. I was minimizing the amount of damage she could do by taking the action I did, but she could still eat. She often hunted without leaving the house!"

"The doors all got blocked off, one by one."

"How is that my fault? How could I have known that would happen?!"

"But what was the nail for?!" Charlie interrupted.

"Just to hurt me! What do you think?!" Terri barked, as Charlie's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "He wanted it to be very clear that part of the point was to break my heart!" Pulling herself together, she took a deep breath and proceeded, more calmly. "He shattered my heart with that doll trying to get me to 'level' with him one day because he thought disinhibiting my emotions would force me to be more honest. I was telling the truth, but he wouldn't believe me."

"You interrogated your mother, 'bad cop'-style, with a voodoo doll, hammer and nail?!" Vaggie exclaimed.

Al gripped the cane even more tightly and repeated grimly, "If you died or suffered severely as a result of the binding spell, it was not my intention. I am not pleased to hear it." He coughed as though trying to clear something foul that was stuck in his throat. "I understood you needed to eat but I wanted to reduce the number of undeserving people you could hurt. I thought I was striking a balance, but clearly I made a mistake. I didn't intend to do that."

Charlie had stopped listening and already come to a conclusion. Her mind would not be changed. "This needs to be mediated. Rather, arbitrated."

A "What?", an "Excuse me?," and an indignant huff from the troupe.

"That's it. This is mandatory. This needs to be arbitrated or one of you has to go. This is nuts!"

Al's hand flew to his forehead. "One of us?! Did the serial child killing not get through to you?!"

"You're a serial killer!" Charlie yelled back in frustration.

"You're still comparing us?!"

Overwhelmed, Charlie turned on her heel and walked out the door, with Al, who was unwilling to be ignored, close behind.

Meanwhile, Terri and Vaggie were again left alone together, awkwardly sharing eye contact.

Terri realized she needed to keep this ally, who had just heard some very disturbing information. "I suppose I should thank you again. I was having trouble figuring out how to introduce that...incident myself. As I'm sure you can imagine… it's a hard thing to start talking about."

Vaggie suppressed a shudder. As disgusted as she was by what Alastor had done, now that she had additional facts, she was no longer altogether sure she had done the right thing in unleashing Terri. The woman hadn't even batted an eyelash at the accusations of serial child murder! Was it because she found it so outlandish she didn't even react, or was it because it was true and she didn't care who knew about it? "Is anything he said true?"

"Darling. You heard what he was on about before you came in. It's that bullet in his brain. As furious as I am with him...I'm...concerned. I guess I can't really help it. He's still my little boy. I just wish he'd get the help he needs."

[X]

"Charlie, you can't compare us! I've explained this!"

The princess turned around again, and Alastor could just barely see the top edges of horns emerging from her blonde hair, a glint of red in her eye, a shimmering fang extruding just a bit longer than usual against her lip. She put one hand up to discourage him from coming closer as she composed herself. "I want to assure you I'm not taking a side. To be fair, you both sound absolutely appalling to me right now!" She literally put her foot down. Although she was small, the stomp of Charlie's foot reverberated noticeably, reminding her colleague of her power. "I stand by what I said earlier. If she wants to stick around, I will try to mediate this. But I won't send anyone away unless I'm forced to. I will always give everyone a chance. I will give her a chance, and I will give you a chance. Fair."

"It is pointless to try to rehabilitate her. That's not what she's here for anyway, and even if it were, the woman cannot change! I waited 20 years for her to change!"

This helped snap Charlie out of her unusual degree of outrage, in part because it revealed fascinating information to her. Al had sustained a parent-child relationship with Terri...well into adulthood? If he said she had raised him from about the age of 7, that would have made him 27 or 28 by the time they had their final falling-out. It certainly was a convincing illustration of his patience and loyalty- she had to grant him that. If things had dragged on that long, what it also suggested to Charlie- although she reminded herself to be cautious in this interpretation- was that they had perhaps really loved each other. Or, at the very least, Al had loved Terri.

"I'm not trying to take away from however painful those 20 years were… But you must see now that in the grand scheme of things, that's not much time. She has infinite time, now, Al. Surely you believe she can change eventually. Wouldn't that make you glad?"

"Princess. Like she just admitted in there, whatever she is or was, originally, she's existed for quite a long time. A very, very, very long time. I know she's a compulsive liar and likes to brag about conquests that may not have happened, but there was one I always found suspiciously likely. I think she was once the Pied Piper of Hamelin, Charlie. That's why I told you not to get roped into singing."

Considering how serious things had been, Charlie had not expected that wild, screeching left turn into loony toon land at the end. The? What? "...I'm sorry?"

As if his assertion didn't sound like lunatic ravings, Alastor continued, nervously filling the empty space with words. "You know this. Killed 130 healthy kids, in the middle of a plague. Rotten thing to do with the population dwindling. Made the villagers believe it was their own fault she took collateral because they didn't pay her, but she says she went in for the children all along. She knew the town council wouldn't pay her because she was a woman. She likes to use peoples' biases against them. Sent the rats back because they were her rats. Distributed the plague to another 25% of the town, out of spite alone. No one told that story as it occurred because it would have made them sound even more asinine than they did already."

"And...uh...what was her intention with the children, exactly?"

"She [radio static] ate them!" he answered, as if this should be the most obvious thing in the world.

Charlie wondered if there was a polite way to ask Alastor if his brain injury might be acting up. Her colleague, a man of advancing years, was now talking about dancing mice and witches who ate children. "Alastor...Have you been drinking the tap water again?" Drinking the tap water in Hell was roughly along the lines of drinking the tap water in Thneedville. "We've discussed this. I gave you a water filter."

"You think I'm the one who's out of touch with reality?! If you think that woman can change, you're-!" He interrupted himself to take a deep breath. Realizing he had made a mistake, Alastor batted at the air with one hand as if trying to wave his own words away like smoke. Terri's intent to make him look insane was succeeding. "It's not important. The point of that example is that she has probably been around for a thousand years, if not longer, and from what I can tell, there have been no signs of character development the entire time."

Charlie nodded slowly, filled with concern that Alastor was unhappily aware was aimed at his mental health and not the genuine danger posed by the con artist in the other room.

Vaggie and Terri emerged from the office and Alastor's radio speaker made a sound like an engine blowing off steam as rage overtook him. (In the kitchen, the microwave mysteriously short-circuited and burst into flame, destroying a very disappointed Angel's eggs.) "Princess, you know I call it as I see it," he said loudly, more at Terri than at Charlie. "I hope she does stay, because she's the perfect example of the sort of despicable creep I'd love to see fail again and again!"

"Sounds great to me," Terri shot back. "I'm happy to stick around and watch you fail again, hazbin." As an aside to Vaggie: "I'm warning you, he'll drag this whole venture into the mud and then leave you to go down with your ship."

"But she'll never agree to it," Al continued smugly, "because it's an invitation to prove to everyone that she has absolutely no redeeming features." He progressively turned his own volume up to project down the hallway, so impassioned that he forgot he was hurting his own cause by making himself look like an ass. He wanted everyone to hear, and, as intended, the drama-loving citizens of Hell began to poke their heads out of doors and gravitate toward the hallway.

"Oof," Nifty said sensitively in response to Al's burn.

"Dunno," Husk whispered. "Kind of sounds legit."

"I know we differ philosophically on this point, Al, but you could stand to dial it back a bit and show some basic respect," Charlie lectured him.

"Hear me out! My argument is that, just practically, all philosophy aside, you absolutely can't have redemption if there's no soul to redeem."

"Hmmn?" Terri silently double-dog-dared him to go on, hand on her hip.

"She walks around with her one-woman three-ring circus orbiting her at all times to bury the fact that she's a bland nobody under all the glittery, garish parlor tricks, and the colorful costumes. She tries to pretend she's clever and original, but she's usually referencing or stealing things that haven't been invented yet, or that you don't know about, and pretending she created them. She pretends to be a genius, but she's a nothing."

Charlie surprised herself by raising her voice to reprimand, "Al! No one is a nothing!"

"I'm not exaggerating, I'm stating a fact! She's literally nothing!"

With a blank facial expression, Terri rhythmically clicked one heel against the floor, not increasing in speed to betray anxiety, but repetitively tapping in a strangely foreboding, intimidating way.

"Well, tell them! Didn't you once say that your real form wouldn't make any sense to humans because you're essentially a big, dark, empty blank space?" Al demanded of Terri, determined not to be intimidated by the heel-clicking, even though it often preceded something aggressive. "She doesn't have a personality, or any originality, or any substantial thoughts or feelings for anyone but herself because she's literally an unfillable black hole, and that's why she's always hungry and needy and can only echo things."

Terri raised an eyebrow as though silently asking where he thought he was going with this. "This is getting a little extra for you, isn't it, darling? Didn't think public mudslinging was your style. Guess I shouldn't be surprised you just got tackier and tackier over time without my influence." On the surface, her tone was even and cool. But his words were persisting in the empty, black void inside her, echoing down the hallway, tumbling down the stairs, and instead of petering out, amplifying as if the deep, spiraling funnel were a megaphone, and ricocheting painfully down the halls of the maze. "Every time I think I want to forgive you, you remind me that you're a waste of my time."

"You're the one wasting your time! You'll outlast us all, and your story will still end before you can change it!"

Dingdingdingdingding! He hit the target dead center. It felt like being cracked in half. After turning up the volume, Terri noticed, Alastor's hand hovered nowhere near any of the dials. He clearly had no interest in muting any of his emotions right now- he really wanted to let her have it. Before she knew what she was doing, Terri had impetuously sent the filter spinning out of Alastor's hand into her own. Once the action was completed, she leaned into it. "Well. Since you're clearly not going to use this for its intended purpose, maybe I'll hold onto it for a little while."

Everyone watching fell dead silent and stared in awe. No one had ever seen another patron actively confront Alastor before.

"Or we could donate it. No...can't imagine another emotionally stagnated man-child pathetic enough to need a-" She vocally projected. "-dial to keep control of his emotions. Why not just-?" She started to bend it. Al's smile never faltered, but he prepared himself for considerable pain.

"Don't!" Charlie gasped protectively.

"Ah, yes, my best guess is that would feel like snapping one of your limbs in half. Oops. Why don't you just...take it back?" she asked him, leering threateningly. (As Charlie attempted to seize it herself with her own power, she noted with silent alarm an impressive amount of resistance.) Everyone else was wondering the same thing. Seemingly without explanation, Alastor made no obvious effort to reclaim the filter. "Alright. If you don't want it and no one else has a use for it, why not just...turn it off?" Terri dramatically flicked a dial and spun it all the way into the 'off' position. As Alastor remained completely unmoving, she leaned forward, bearing the cane in one hand with her other hand on her hip. "Gonna cry?"

Still without a movement or a word, Alastor slowly sunk into the floor through a black, green tinged portal and disappeared, presumably to prevent himself from reacting.

"Phht. Dramatic," said Terri.

The troupe was aghast. The display was mean-spirited at face value, but they were citizens of Hell- this sort of thing normally would have entertained the shit out of them. What made it so horrifying was the fact that most patrons had picked up on the fact that Alastor treated the radio cane as a part of his body, or, perhaps more accurately, a part of his brain. The violation struck them as hideously unacceptable.

Angel was the first to break the silence. "Sweet f***, that was excruciatin' ta watch!"

Charlie stepped in next, in an outburst of righteous fury. "Listen! You cannot make a scene in my place of business or harass anyone here! I think I will ask you to sign something guaranteeing cooperation!" Taking a cue from Alastor's demonstration at brunch days ago, she summoned a pen and legal paper and shoved it in Terri's face.

"Because?" Terri challenged her.

"I'm not letting you stay here just to pick fights. You are officially only permitted to stay here if you're here to use the service." Language was rapidly appearing on the legal paper.

"I don't see him signing one of these. Why the double standard? I don't think I'm the only bad guy here. He started that fight, I just ended it."

Charlie waved the others away to speak to Terri alone. "Ma'am." The princess exhaled into the tips of her folded hands. "I know that was you reacting."

"Is that so?"

"Don't take the bait. Everyone willing to be reasonable knows that nobody is a 'nothing.' You have as much of a chance as anyone else. Don't let him embarrass you out of trying."

"I'm genuinely not interested, I'm afraid. He's right about that."

Charlie spread her arms and challenged her. "Then why are you so determined to stay? Do you want to make up with him?" Terri's heel started clicking again, this time with an agitated quality. "If you want to do that, you need to play the game. I have a feeling you like games," Charlie said, remembering what Alastor had mentioned.

"What happens if I break it?"

"You won't be able to set foot on the property anymore. That's it. That's the worst case scenario. No harm to you."

Terri considered. He couldn't stay inside forever… And she may only need a little more time in here anyway… But to be here was convenient because of the shield, just as Alastor had hypothesized. She decided to push back a little more. "Sorry, I've learned my lesson not to cooperate with dealmakers," she said, nose in the air.

"Terri," Charlie hissed through gritted teeth, but without another word, the woman disapparated into her own hotel room. "You-!"

[X]

"You let her go?" Vaggie was beside herself.

"She just left," her girlfriend explained, looking humiliated, absent-mindedly twirling a blonde strand of hair around one finger.

"Well, kick her out! It's your property!"

"I just need to think… There has to be a way I can-"

"Hun." Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "I know it's in your nature to help anyone, but you said yourself it wouldn't be at the expense of other people. This might be the first time you need to send someone away for others' safety. There will be more. Just rip the bandaid off."

"Well… Do you feel unsafe?" Charlie directed the question at the others. The staff members- and Angel, who had apparently invited himself- had gathered in the business office to discuss the issue. Met with silence, she chose one to start who had already been vocal several times. "Angel?"

Angel Dust had come to voice this opinion because Terri's behavior struck him as way too familiar. He answered, "I've seen it before. It looks like a duck, it quacks like a duck, it's a duck." He thought privately, 'F***, I like her even less than Val because at least that quack is predictable.' "Duck season. Shoot the duck."

"Husk?" Charlie asked, expecting a 'no opinion' response or a disinterested shrug.

"Boot 'er."

"Really?" Charlie replied, stunned.

"Look, I think it's worth pointing out…the only thing I know about this woman is she can embarrass the crap out of Alastor, which should have me rolling, and yet I still hate her. Instinctively. From my gut. That has to mean something. Hell, she's so ugly on the inside, I can't even enjoy it when she turns around anymore."

Vaggie silently fidgeted. Her low growl finally built to a frustrated, "Ugggh! I feel the same way!"

"You can't even enjoy it when she turns around anymore?"

"Shut up, Husk!" The moth demon sounded unhappy about it but was forced to admit: "I feel the same way. Makes me think there has to be something I'm picking up on subconsciously to explain why I'm not pissing myself with laughter at Al's expense."

"You're the one who let her in!" Charlie reminded her.

"And what if I screwed up? I don't like admitting it, but I'm starting to wonder, Charlie. I don't trust Alastor worth a Fat Nugget shit, but… I don't trust that woman either. She strikes me as so slimy. What if I didn't do the right thing?"

Charlie offered her girlfriend a reassuring peck on the cheek. "Of course you did, Vaggie. Even if Terri isn't trustworthy, it was the right thing to do anyway because you were being merciful."

Vaggie handed Charlie the Terri doll. "I should have given this to you right away…"

Charlie gripped it tightly with the intent to store it in a nice little personal Switzerland where nobody could hex it or bless it toward any specific purpose. "Why didn't you?"

Vagatha looked ashamed and remained silent. She knew her girlfriend could protect the item better than she could. If what she had really wanted was to defend the woman from harm, she would have raised this to attention earlier. She didn't want to think of herself as this petty, but it was possible that, deep down, she had simply been enjoying getting one over on Alastor.

Charlie didn't force her to say it out loud and instead went back to tallying the group's opinions on Terri. She turned. "Nifty?"

Nifty was the only one to look at all hesitant. She nervously swayed side to side, poking two fingers together, but finally concurred with a soft whisper of, "I have concerns…"

"Aha! Even she sees it!" Husker exclaimed. "And her opinion is normally trash- she trusts Alastor."

"The boss really isn't that bad!"

"You see?"

"I guess that is a vote of no confidence," Charlie acknowledged. "Look, I don't want to just send her packing immediately, but I'm very willing to give her three strikes. Sound fair?"

The troupe produced resigned nodding and harrumphing, acknowledging this was the best they would get.

"I'd call snatching a piece of someone's brain right outta their hands, just to be petty, a strike, though," Angel piped up.

"Ohhh-ho-ho, yes it is, Angel!" Charlie assured him with enthusiasm. "And believe me, I am going to get that cane back."

"Should somebody check on Al?" Nifty wondered aloud.

"Nah, leave it," Angel said. "He's not gonna talk to anybody."

"How do you know?" Charlie asked.

The spider demon shrugged. "I wouldn't."

"Agreed. Also," Husker added, "who'd want to meet Alastor without a filter?"

[X]

Terri sat in her room, listening to the radio with the cane propped up against her chair as she knitted. There was a lot of static, but she could hear bits and pieces of songs. It was interesting how this cane functioned. Some of it seemed likely to have come directly from his head, but a lot of other things suggested the radio was simply pulling data that happened to match his thoughts or feelings, whether he was actually familiar with the media or not, judging by the eclectic mixture of songs that played. So far she'd heard an awfully revealing number of lines from 'Always a Woman' bursting jarringly through pieces of angrier songs, quick to silence itself but just as quick to rear its head again. Also mixed in with the chatter were intermittently repeating snippets of 'You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile' and 'Turn It Off,' which were growing tired in their desperation. She tried to be amused, but Terri was still highly agitated and...deeply troubled by the fight. Every time she thought of his critique, she spitefully spun a dial and tried to derive glee from the warbling, glitchy radio chatter, but it didn't help. Eventually she turned the entire device off again.

The beldam was knitting a blanket, which bore a quilt-like pattern showing symbols of memories they shared together that were actually good. It was a semi-sincere olive branch. The little gnome in the poodle skirt had mentioned at one point that Alastor was still an insomniac. The blanket was bewitched and would in fact help him sleep, and would also bring dreams of the images depicted. While partly meant as an apologetic gesture of good will, it was also meant to make herself look more cooperative to the princess. Most of all, though, it was meant to emotionally manipulate. Cursing him with pleasant dreams of her was better than cursing him with bad ones because it worked in her favor no matter which path she took. If she decided she wanted to reconcile after all, the blanket might go toward winning him over. If she decided to seek revenge, the dreams it brought would likely make her wrath all the more crushing.

Despite having chosen such an ideal double-edged weapon, she wished desperately that she were just as capable of choosing a goal. To her chagrin, Terri was still deeply indecisive- as illustrated by the fact that she had just been switching between knitting the blanket for a few minutes at a time and spinning her son's emotional wiring like a pinwheel for the next few minutes. These mixed emotions were weak, she chastised herself. Almost human. Disgusting! He was no different from any other mortal peon, she tried convincing herself, but her mind continued raising images of the sweet 8-year-old's laughing face. Her very, very favorite baby doll...really and truly… Why had she done this?! Threatening feelings of remorse and self-loathing were sneaking up on her; she had to try to keep her mind on revenge!

When Charlie knocked, Terri didn't even wait to hear the princess awkwardly assert her authority to come in. The witch simply opened the door with a snap of her fingers.

Ready to be fair but firm, Charlie attempted to launch into a prepared speech. "Terese-"

Again, she didn't even wait. "How can I agree to the terms when we both know I'm not interested in the service?"

Charlie deflated a bit, taken aback by Terri's rudeness, but was glad to see the woman was willing to talk. She also cut right to the chase. "Why aren't you?"

"It's a wild goose chase. There's no such thing as redemption."

"Here we go…"

"Okay," Terese said with a sigh. "I'll entertain this. Whether redemption is real depends on how it is defined." It was clear she had been chewing on this while Charlie was away. "If one defines redemption as completing enough good deeds to balance bad ones, it may objectively exist. But in the case of people who end up here? It's probably rare, or would take so long you'd be more likely to die in an extermination first." Knitknitknitknit. Terri's fingers moved impossibly quickly but betrayed her emotions on the subject to no one but herself- Charlie had not yet picked up on this quirk.

Charlie found herself pleasantly surprised. "So you...don't think it's impossible?"

"It's incredibly unlikely."

"'Unlikely' is the most charitable word I've heard somebody call my pitch, ma'am! I'll take it," Charlie said, smiling despite the situation. "But why don't you want to try?"

"I'm not the horse I'd bet on. And I don't want to spend the rest of my existence on a pipe dream like some dumb oyster. In any case, that definition of redemption is not the one I think is most practical."

"Oh?"

Knitknitknitknitknit. "I'd say redemption is a largely subjective process in the minds of people you want to forgive you. Because truly, even if you're a changed soul with every good intention in the world, if nobody believes you and no one gives you the chance to prove it, it doesn't matter. It's moot. It's how you're perceived that matters. If that's the case, redemption can't exist once you pass a certain event horizon, because it would require-" She said the next bit with obvious disdain. "-unconditional positive regard. And that is a thing that does not exist. That is a unicorn." Knitknitknitknitknitknit.

As deeply disturbing as this woman seemed, Charlie experienced a flash of empathy for her. She believed Terri might truly be suffering. "Well...I'm willing to help you with any kind of redemption you want. There's no 'one size fits all' recovery model. And I will give anyone a chance. But," she said strictly, "I will not watch anyone else be abused. Don't mess with my colleague. I know he doesn't want my help, but I'll help him anyway. And-" She offered a deadpan look. "-I think you're bright enough to understand you can't terrorize people into forgiving you." Charlie made a 'give it here' motion at the cane.

"Let me finish making this. And then- ugh!" Terri had begun to hold up the nearly-finished blanket, only to discover that she had accidentally knitted through her dress. Or, Charlie suspected, based on the amount of wincing, into...her leg?

"Terri? Are you alright?"

"Just a bit tangled up. This may take a few minutes," she said, laughing lightly as if it were nothing. Terri did not seem able to produce tears from behind her button eyes, but her leg twitchtwitchtwitched in pain.

Charlie approached without thinking too much about it, always eager to help, and gently placed a hand on the woman's leg. For some strange reason, Terri realized, the contact was immediately soothing. "Did you hurt yourself?" the princess asked with tender concern, sounding as if she were speaking to a child.

Terri looked the other way, feeling foolish. "Sometimes this happens."

Charlie's nose wrinkled sympathetically. It would be cringey enough with regular thread, but this was thick yarn. "Don't you feel it?"

"Not until I notice it."

Her instinct was to push Charlie away, but the princess was already very gently beginning to work at the strings, asking for permission to reach under Terri's dress to assist, being so caring and respectful, this despite the fact that the hotel's owner had just watched her patron do something so harsh and cruel. It was a type of mercy with which the beldam had very little familiarity. She found that it didn't hurt as much when someone else helped untangle her. Not only that, but as Charlotte slowly worked the yarn out of her leg, Terri noticed she felt no hunger at all, not even the low, muted rumble she usually did at all times. 'Ah, yes, you were right about this one,' said a coarse voice in her head, but another small, child-like voice asked, shyly, 'Friend?'

"Will you heal up?"

"Yes, I'll be fine."

Charlie put a hand on Terri's shoulder. "Be careful, okay? Calm down. We're going to talk through this."

"Thank you." Terri fought the animalistic instinct to reach out and pull her back as Charlie backed away. "...What I was going to say is- I'll finish this, and then I'll bring both over."

"Terri… I think you should give it back now."

Terri tapped a foot in frustration. "I just want to be able to offer an olive branch when I do it. I'm not proud of myself right now. Don't make me go over there with nothing."

Charlie couldn't fully control the suspicion rising up inside her, but, in the spirit of fairness, she really wanted to believe this gift could be sincere.

"Plus, I should really check on Tom," Terri added.

Charlie squinted. "Tom?"

"He doesn't do well alone."

"Is that...your dog?" It had sounded like she was a dog person.

"Oh, no, no. He's…" She seemed to feel awkward. "...my...companion."

Interesting. "Okay… I'll come back in an hour." But Charlie couldn't resist leaving without inquiring, "Did you always punish Al like that? By humiliating him?"

"I know you won't believe this, but I didn't punish him all that often. When I did, it was often the only thing that worked."

"You know, like spanking, that's particularly not recommended nowadays, per the research."

"Yes, of course. Humans always seem to outlaw the things that are effective."

"It's not illegal...necessarily...just not recommended. A lot of things that simply aren't recommended probably ought to be outlawed, though."

"Such as?"

"...Solitary confinement?" Dingdingdingdingding! Ten points to Charlie! The princess smiled warmly but smugly at Terri's dazed expression. "I'll see you in an hour, Terri."

Huh, Terri thought, feeling emotionally disoriented, yet somehow warm and fuzzy. She liked this one even better now.

[X]

"Al?" Charlie called outside her colleague's door. No answer. She sighed. "Al, I know you didn't want me to step in, but I did let her know there are limits because this is my property. If she continues to harass you, she'll be out." Wondering if it might make him feel better, she added, "Everyone agrees that it was extreme. They're all disgusted." No answer. "She will be returning your cane. I'm going to monitor that transaction myself." No answer. The princess finally transformed the subtext into text. "I know I blew you off earlier. I was listening, I promise! But...maybe not closely enough. ...I'm sorry." As she turned to walk away, she was surprised to hear the door creak open.

"You may come in."

Charlie was fairly stunned that he was inviting her into his room, which was unprecedented. This could only mean it was a conversation he didn't care to have in the hallway, although he looked more composed than she had expected. Upon entry, however, the very first thing she noticed was that any shiny or mirror-like surface had been taped over. Even Al's monocle was missing. Perhaps not so composed after all. "I...ah…"

"You think I've gone insane," Al said in a gently chiding tone, but underlying it was something darker.

"I...do...noooot…" Charlie replied unconvincingly.

Alastor wagged a finger. "She's not just a witch. She's an immeasurably clever witch. She's found ways of being nearly omnipotent. I'd appreciate as much privacy as I can get right now, which isn't much."

"I admit you seem slightly off-kilter," Charlie said, nodding slowly. "But if it makes you feel any better, I think Terri may have gone so batty in isolation that she made up an imaginary boyfriend."

"Phht. You've misunderstood something. She wouldn't last in a relationship, even in her imagination." They chuckled together. "...You say she'll return it?" Al asked after a pause.

"Yes! Yes, I worked it out. You know I wouldn't have let her keep it, right?" The princess hugged herself with one arm, tugging anxiously at the sleeve of her red suit jacket, hoping he didn't genuinely think she had taken sides against him.

"...Thank you. It's very important."

Charlie didn't want to be invasive, but she saw how not pushing him harder during the last few conversations on this topic had backfired, causing her to assume he was needlessly paranoid. It was beginning to seem that was not the case. "Was she...telling the truth? Is that one of its functions?" she asked sensitively about Terri's claim that the cane acted as an emotional filter and/or impulse control mechanism.

"...Yes. Yes, that was true." Al chuckled tensely. "As I've said, I do have a brain injury. ...Injuries. I've taken a lot of hits to the head in my time. Hehehehe." Charlie tried desperately to conceal how much sense this made to her. "And the clever little 'algorithm' that's been put together to control punishment…" In this case he was referring to punishment for the sin of deceitfulness, specifically. "It was a one-two punch of sorts. So… I do need that filter." Al was still smiling, as always, but he seemed fatigued, like it was taking more energy.

"Got it. I'm… so sorry she did that. Do you think she knows?"

"Yes," Al said forcefully.

Noticing he was not as verbose as usual, Charlie realized he likely wanted tight control over what left his mouth. She understood Terri's ostensible motive, but she wanted Al's side now because as she had openly admitted, she felt she had not really listened before. "Why...did you do...it?" The binding spell.

Alastor blinked. "I told you, she was a threat to people who didn't deserve it. It was distasteful."

"Did you have...personal experience with that?" Charlie asked, thinking of the nail. For Alastor to want to do that, Terese must have broken his heart first. Charlie knew she was, to a degree, being manipulative. In fact, the princess was just as capable of digging things out of people as Terri was. But to be clear, Charlie's intentions were entirely benign- she wanted only to heal. "Has she always done things like what she did today?"

"Only if she's not getting her way. As long as you tell her she's always right, she's conveniently sweet as pie."

"And was that how she punished you? Humiliation?"

Alastor paused thoughtfully, then answered, "She actually never punished me in any sort of logical way. She mostly just hazed me whenever she was in a foul mood."

Charlie cringed. That did sound eerily consistent with the remark Terri had made. "You're sure you don't want me to tell her to leave you alone?"

Alastor was clearly offended. "I've handled her before."

"I'm not suggesting that you're weak. I just…" She opened up to him: "Look, I can laugh it off when other people talk down to me. But when my dad does it… It hurts. So… I get it."

"I'm not sure what you think you understand. As soon as I get my cane back, I'll be fine."

"Al, that story you told about the dragon-"

He suddenly looked more rattled than usual. "I said we weren't going to discuss that further."

Charlie lowered her voice. "Nobody else has to know. We can talk about this! I won't say anything."

Alastor waved his empty cane hand in front of her. "You are taking advantage of me. Shame on you, Charlie."

A lightbulb went off in Charlie's head. She imitated the face Al often made before he delivered a punchline. "Mmmmmaybe." Taken by surprise, Alastor burst into laughter. Charlie grinned. At a certain point, she had recognized she could charm Alastor into submission with laughter, and after that point they had become much more evenly matched. Often he didn't even seem to mind this, but now that his laughter was petering out, he was starting to look more uncomfortable again. He hesitated...but then-

"She made me believe...that she loved me. For about 20 years. You know me, Charlie. You must realize how difficult that was to pull off."

"Al, she earned your trust when you were a little kid. Don't be embarrassed that you-"

Alastor shook his head. "No, I understand, you think this is a simple cause and effect and I'm only reserved now because of her. Let me impress upon you- this was always my personality. When I was a child, before I met her, I did not like to be touched. I did not trust adults. I did not have friends. And yet this woman successfully manipulated me until I believed that she loved me, and until I loved her back. To this day, I'm not sure how. And I was genuinely stunned the day I figured out she didn't actually care. Again-" He laughed wryly. "-not sure how. Because long before that, she repeatedly did things that were- I forgave her for- Well..." He chuckled darkly. "I'm not going to tell you, or you'll think me an insane person."

"Al? You've told me that she steals souls...in the most literal sense of the word. Is she holding yours?"

Al bitterly admitted, "I suppose it's more accurate to say she steals hearts."

"She took your heart?"

He clenched a fist. "I gave it freely. She just never let it go. There's nothing I can do. ...Do you know-" His outrage built. "-that she made all of these strange, tangential references from the future when I was a child? I assumed it was a mixture of force of habit and eccentricity, with glee that she knew fun facts I didn't, with amusement at my confusion. Do you know why she really did it?"

"I...I don't know-"

"She did it so that I could never forget her!" He pivoted so that he was facing away again. "She made it so that almost every year, sometimes several times a year, I would inevitably hear or see something or even hear referenced a book, a film, a song, an event… And I would remember her quirky little voice quoting it. And then I'd remember her. Listening to the radio, dancing, laughing, hunting together-" He instinctively moved to turn up his filter and, without it, resorted with humiliation to clapping a hand over his mouth.

"Wait… Is that...the real reason why you don't like engaging with new media?" Al continued to face away from her, posture stiff. "...I'm so sorry…" Charlie's resolve built. "But that means you're living in a box, and that doesn't sound like you at all." She touched his shoulder, and he stiffened even more. Charlie frowned and winced sympathetically. "Why'd you give it to her? Your heart? There must have been a reason. I know I'm doing a bad job of showing it lately, but I promise I don't think you're crazy."

"There was... more. Most of the time, she was- Well, she seemed like she was-" He interrupted himself. "It was a trick. It was acting. Very dedicated acting."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"What makes you-?"

Suddenly, he found himself unable to compensate for not having a filter. "Because I won't believe someone who loved me would treat me like that! Don't try to convince me! Have some mercy, would you?!" Al clapped a hand over his mouth again, mortified.

Charlie waved her hands in front of her face. "I- I didn't mean to push you. I'm sorry!"

Al thought perhaps he had come across as too aggressive for no reason. Trying to pretend nothing had happened, he politely stated, "I'm...going to...rest. If you don't mind. Goodnight."

Charlie left feeling deeply alarmed by this entire encounter and by how exhausted he looked. Al had held it together pretty well, she thought, for having what amounted to a critical piece of his brain missing, even though he cracked that one time. But that moment was like nothing she had witnessed from him before. She would monitor Terri's return of his property very closely.

[X]

When Charlie and Terri arrived outside his door, two things were obvious to Alastor immediately.

One was the obvious intent of the blanket. It was hexed. It was hexed the way he assumed she had hexed him to spontaneously cough up kind statements about her, with invasively kind thoughts and feelings to accompany them. It was to endear him to her again- unbelievable!

But the more important observation was that the cane was not his cane. It was a duplicate. He realized he could not explain why or how he knew, but he knew, and to be fair, he would recognize it best, as it was a part of him. This was not it. Terri made meaningful eye contact. She didn't have to say anything. He got the gist of what she was thinking, which was something along the lines of, 'What are you going to say? You'll sound insane,' or perhaps, 'How long are you going to hide behind the big, bad warrior angel for protection, little prince? Can't you fight?' and certainly, 'You'll keep niiice and quiet about this, won't you?'

"Unbelievable," Alastor uttered. He didn't resist as the obviously fake cane was pressed into his hand- realizing this problem should be approached with caution- but he dropped the blanket to the floor angrily right away. He gave Charlie a deadpan look and said, "You are smarter than this."

"Al-" Charlie began.

"I don't see why you're being like this," Terri said.

Alastor pointed at Terri aggressively, inhaled deeply, and silenced himself, realizing that speaking now without the filter would be a disaster. He slammed the door in her face.

"Wow," said Terri, turning toward Charlie. "What did you do?" The princess fought the fleeting, un-Charlie-like urge to smack her.

Hours later, Al entered Terri's hotel room cautiously, although he didn't expect to see her and certainly didn't expect to find her asleep, but there she was. Had she worn herself out? In his experience, when she fell asleep in the corporeal form, and especially if she fell asleep outside the den, it was only because she was exhausted or had relaxed too much next to a human with a soothing heartbeat. Alastor squinted. It was impossible to know if she was pretending, due to the button eyes and the fact that she didn't need to breathe. She could just be flopped there like a rag doll, surreptitiously gathering information.

He swept the room with his eyes. No signs of the cane, nor of any portals that might lead to her den, where it was probably hidden. Ah well. If she really was asleep, at least that would still allow him to use the hexed blanket against her. Maybe it would buy him some time. She always had been much more emotional than she let on around others...he'd let her have a taste of her own medicine. But the thought that the beldam could legitimately be lying in front of him fast asleep prompted another thought, much less welcome. Oh, yes, this was like one of the fairy tales wasn't it? He could reclaim full ownership of his soul only by killing her…

No. Alastor remembered his standards. He would not kill a sleeping enemy. That would be abhorrent. Sadly, this decision, too, was like the story. Hopefully this all wouldn't end in sea foam.

Very carefully, Alastor draped the blanket over her, waiting for a hand to close around his wrist at any moment, but nothing happened. She moved, causing him to flinch, but Terese just rolled over and made a soft sound. It was so easy to forget how dangerous she was when she was asleep and looked like a painfully cute child's toy. Alastor reminded himself to leave when he caught himself just watching her be peaceful, remembering the fact- which felt so impossible, even though he knew it to be true- that, when he was a child, this formidable beast would sometimes sleep next to him like a nervous puppy when she had a bad dream and had seemed like she genuinely needed his comfort, like she honestly enjoyed his companionship...

'It was an act,' he thought, firmly, and quietly but quickly left, practically fled the room. Even without the aid of the hexed blanket, Alastor was being flooded by memories he didn't want.

[X]

[Dream/memory, circa 1910]

Ten-year-old Alastor sleepily rolled over to find himself face-to-face with two coal black, unblinking doll eyes glinting in the dark, causing him to yelp softly.

"Huh? Mmmn?" his mother hummed sleepily.

"When did you get here?" Alastor whispered.

Half asleep, Terri mumbled, "Sorry… Had a bad dream…"

Al was baffled. This was literally the only time, so far, he had heard her use the word 'sorry,' and it was only because she was barely awake... and to apologize for seeking comfort? "It's alright." He gave her a hug. "What's wrong?" Once he made contact with her, Terri launched into the deep inhaling, dog-like sniffing he hated so much but had learned to tolerate; he had accepted that in many ways she was more like a non-human animal and he may have to accommodate that. She hummed again, slightly more awake but not wanting to say, and just let him hug her. "Did you dream about the labyrinth again?" Al asked.

Finally, Terri whispered, "I dreamed you stopped caring about me."

More specifically, she had dreamed about finally driving him away with some horrible outburst of misdirected anger. (This was possibly what allowed the one sleepy 'sorry' to eke out of her.) And then, as he suggested, she had dreamed about being lost in the chaotic, constantly shifting maze, unable to find a clear path forward or back, with no one left to call out to, no one to care what became of her, because now they were too far beyond her reach at the end of the cavernous hallway that just kept growing and growing and growing.

This deep-seated fear was one reason why Terese had always deliberately resisted pulling information about herself from the future. She lived in terror of looking into a long, never-ending tunnel of emptiness and isolation that never changed. She couldn't risk obtaining such awful knowledge if she wanted to keep herself sane. (The other reasons were that it was both more complicated and less reliable. Terri could only pull factual, semantic data; purely experiential, autonoetic data couldn't be pulled from the future because it had technically not been created yet. Sure, purely factual information about her existence in the future would be available, but it would also be harder to find simply based on the fact that Terri's existence had become so secretive and isolated. And the future was an unstable thing. She didn't want to concern herself with outcomes that may never occur. Also, if she never looked, she could be free to imagine many branching timelines with variety, but sun and moon, what if she looked and looked and looked and they were all alike?!)

"It was only a dream, Mother." Alastor kissed her forehead. "I love you. Everything is fine. Do you want to stay here?" He backed away for his own personal space and comfort but reached out to hold her hand.

"Thank you," Terri mumbled happily, yawning, as her hunger and her lingering dread at last began to fade away. She grasped his hand gratefully. They had not been torn apart yet. "You are...every star...in the sky…"

[X]

Note: Heads up- future updates will begin to take longer. I had a big hunk of story developed and drafted in script form and just had to clean it up, which is why these chapters made it up so fast. However, it's multi-arc, so there's a lot left to work on.

Also, I promise to try to incorporate more smatterings of comedy here and there for morale. Even though it's accurately tagged as angst genre, I realize nothing but misery all the time is still no fun. At least you know you'll get a glimpse of Al and Terri at LooLoo Land and tween Mimzy trying to wrangle child Alastor as the babysitter eventually!