Chapter 29

Progress

Alastor finished going over a couple letters from sponsors. One was voicing an interest in the progress of the hotel, while the other was inquiring as to potential deals with redemption drop-outs. Unfortunately, both would be somewhat dissatisfied with the truth, but his gift for embellishment has never let him down before, and it certainly wouldn't now. He often enjoyed telling tales of the guests' distressing ventures, such as violent outbursts and sexual misconduct. One sponsor sounded incredibly disappointed to hear that there was a Fizzarolli on staff that had been given a no-sex order, sharing their hope that the jester would be released from this command to mess with the guests' chances.

It was fortunate that he was the one tasked with handling correspondence with the sponsors. Charlie lacked the capacity to deal with their darker goals and practice subtle manipulation to ensure the money kept flowing in. On the off chance that sponsors start pulling out earlier than he anticipated, he's been funnelling money into a backup account under Charlie's name to deal with hard times when they arrived, which was inevitable. So long as Ms. Magne never got it in her head to review the letters he sent out, things should remain peaceful.

There were also her ideas he needed to sort through and check for budgeting purposes. So far, the most promising idea is an arts and crafts therapy session that would happen Wednesday afternoons. The main reason that it was proposed for the afternoon was so that Angel didn't have to leave early because of work, and it was suggested as a way to give the more antsy, chaotic guests an outlet to do something productive rather than pursue violence. They could be given projects to do between meetings, and perhaps the guests would acquire new hobbies this way.

Despite laughing at her optimism, he couldn't deny that the concept had merit, and so it was filed away to be given more serious consideration in their next business meeting. Charlie was getting better at this, and he could not help but be impressed with her resilience. All of Hell turned their backs on her, laughing as she stumbled along, and yet she kept on moving forward as if empowered by it. It takes a certain strength of character to strive in such adversity, and it was her most respectable characteristic in his eyes. It almost made up for her childish dreams of salvation for her people.

Almost.

Still, there was one fact that he couldn't deny: Charlie was the closest thing to an angel in Hell they were ever going to get, and if he was right about this idea of hers failing, then there would be no hope in the future. If Charlie couldn't accomplish this, no one else would stand a chance. She cared far too much for these deplorable, hopeless sinners, and if that's not enough to win them over and get them into Heaven, then they were condemned to an eternity of fear, poverty and oppression.

In the middle of his thoughts, he heard a rather unpleasant noise approaching his door; the sound of metallic scraping, quiet but distinct, which usually meant that the metal degenerate, Fizz, was close by. Even worse; it was followed by a knock on his office door.

Alastor's lip pulled back into a disgusted snarl.

"Hey, Red," called the unpleasant, shrill robotic voice, "got a little something for you. Open up; I think you'll like it."

"Leave it by the door," Alastor commanded.

"Nah," Fizz teased. "See, I could leave it in this nice little holder you've got, and maybe I will next time… But this time, I want you to come out and take it."

Alastor stiffened. While he hadn't been certain if Eliza would come to leave her letter in person, he had installed a matching letter holder on his door just in case. So if Fizz was offering to leave that 'little something' in there, then it must be a letter, and if he was holding it hostage until Alastor retrieved it in person, then there could be no doubt who it was from.

"Fizzarolli…" Alastor hissed through his static. "Leave the letter in the holder and get out of…"

"Nuh-uh-uh!" the clown rejected. "If that's how you're gonna be, then I think I'll just take it with me."

Alastor snapped his fingers and summoned his shadow, which glanced down at him before glaring at the door. "Make sure he doesn't go anywhere." The servant chuckled malevolently before flattening to the floor, traveling quickly under the door. When the sounds of a struggle were heard, Alastor stood and put down the letter he had started.

When he opened the door, the jester sent him a most disturbing glance from his position of being pressed against the wall, bending his neck in unnatural ways so that he was viewing him almost upside-down. "I knew you were the forceful type. Oh Red…"

"That's enough of that," the overlord spat, approaching the pinned servant with a smirk. "The letter, if you please."

Fizz chuckled. "Tell your shadow to give me a reach-around, and he'll find it tucked away~"

The voodoo creature looked back at his master with a worried expression, afraid his master might actually command him to feel up the perverted joker to retrieve it. Much to his relief, Alastor instead flicked his wrist and called him back, releasing the robot. "Pull it out yourself," he growled.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours~!"

"For pity's sake," Alastor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The letter, you repulsive fool! Pull out the letter. Gracious, you're worse than Angel Dust!"

Sure enough, the jester turned and reached into his top (thankfully not his pants!) and pulled out a plain-looking envelope. However, when the shadow reached out to take it, he snapped his arm back and, with a flashy motion of his hand, it disappeared. Alastor bit back his temptation to dig his claws into the disgusting toy servant's chest, though prying it from his powerless metal husk felt like such an appealing option at that moment.

"Why are you provoking me, Fizz?" He asked, the air humming with an angry buzz.

"I wanted to see if you try to bite everyone that riles you up," Fizz cooed at him, putting his hand on his chest and leaning back, fluttering his eyes at the disturbed overlord. "Is it just because I'm metal, or does my boss just get… special treatment?" The air filled with distortion as Alastor stiffened, eyes replaced with glowing dials. "Aw, poor Red, hoping that would stay quiet. If you wanted your 'special appetite' to remain a secret, you should have chosen a willing partner."

"That is not what happened!" he snarled. What patience he could spare was evaporating quickly as he stared at that smug 'your ass is mine' grin the clown sported.

"Denial isn't healthy, Red." Fizz tsked at the man, giving him the 'shame' gesture. "I'm all for a good kink, but you might want to try the 'wine and dine' approach next time. Because if you don't-" Fizz took a bold leap forward, squaring up to Alastor with a wicked grin and dangerously red eyes, "-then I'll show you how to insight a riot right here! I can turn this entire hotel against you, and even Charlie won't save you when you crack and kill the only willing employee of this hotel. If you take a chunk out of my master, I can promise that there won't be so much as a chunk of you remaining!"

Right when Alastor was finally about to snap, the jester tossed the letter in his face. Without breaking eye-contact, he snatched it out of the air and tucked it into his suit-coat, snarling at the impudent clown with absolute acrimony.

Even as Fizz walked past, the two held each other's gaze, going so far as to turn both their heads one-hundred-and-eighty degrees to maintain it. "Frankly, my master is way too forgiving," he added, never losing his swagger despite the stubborn stare-down. "If you tried to force yourself on me, I'd have slapped you for even trying to talk to me again. You are one lucky bastard, Red." As he opened the door to the stairwell, his eyes flashed red when he warned, "Don't fuck up this time!"

When he slammed the door to the stairs, Alastor paused for a moment. Despite the temptation to mail him back to the manufacturer in pieces, he decided that, for once, he would let the degenerate's boorish behavior slide. Oh, he wanted to rip him apart and savor the sound of shredding wires, but given that he still might fall prey to dangerous temptations, it might not be bad to keep the impudent servant close for now, at least until he serves his purpose.

But as soon as he was over that blasted pheromone, he would see to it that not a soul remembered that he ever existed.

For now, he had a letter to read.

As he returned to his desk and pulled out the letter, he found it to be disappointingly light. Apparently the essay had yet to be written, and he had so been looking forward to it. Oh well, surely it will come soon.

Still, he noticed something different about how his name was written on the front. It carried her usual simple style, but he could tell it was written slowly and carefully, as if she attempted to give it the artistry he often encouraged. The effort made him feel strangely flattered, as she had always been so resistant to such beautification, calling it pointless.

When he opened the envelope, he noted very quickly that his name was the only writing that received such effort, and his smile softened slightly. He summoned that paper from the night he caught her practicing, and was rather impressed by the progress she had made over almost four months. If anyone ever asked, he would of course take the credit for her quick development, but in reality he had to respect the fact that, when she wished to pursue something, she could be a sheer force of will.

He felt nothing short of gratitude that she showed restraint with him, if Rosie was correct about her affections.

Dear Alastor,

Before I say anything else: Thank you. Thank you for helping me get away from Vox and Valentino, thank you for sparing me the long walk back to the hotel, and thank you for giving me space since then. I appreciate everything you did to help me, and while I have many questions, I do feel a little strange putting them in a letter, so I'll wait until we can discuss everything in person.

However, I discovered today that I'm not quite prepared to speak with you yet. I meant to thank you in person in the dining room, and I apologize for withholding it. Unfortunately my nerves seem to be taking control right now, as embarrassing as that is to admit, but hopefully this will pass soon. I also wish to discuss this pheromone with you, as I am very unaware of it and have many questions regarding its existence. And as to your suggestion of dealing with it directly, while normally I would agree that a direct approach is best to learn to deal with things, I must admit that it makes me very nervous.

Even so, I am open to suggestions. For now, I would recommend that any future attempts to deal with this should involve a neutral third party. I recommend Charlie. Vaggie is too biased against men, and while I'm tempted to bring Fizz because he's a robot lacking in biological disadvantages, he is not only inclined to defend his master, but also hates you personally. As such, I firmly believe Charlie will be our best chance. I will, however, be bringing Alucard, mostly because I can't seem to go anywhere without him right now.

And finally, in regards to your requested essay, I must decline. I attempted to sit and write it, but there are too many things about what I heard on Saturday that would be best discussed in person. Partly because it triggered something rather personal, but also because it had something to do with my decision to decline Vox's job offer. As such, it feels too important to put into essay format. Feel free to send another topic, as I enjoy the thought of the essay projects, but I simply must insist that you wait. I'm sorry, I know you really wanted to know, but please be patient.

Sincerely,

Eliza.

P.S. I apologize for whatever Fizz might do when I send him with this letter. I attempted to have Alucard carry it to your window, but he kept shaking it off his leg. I don't feel ready to deliver these in person just yet, so please just… don't tear him apart. I know it's a temptation for you.

Please and thank you.

Alastor's lip curled slightly. So she apparently intends to send Fizz every time she writes. Perhaps he would mention the letter holder on his door in the hopes that she would drop it off when she knew he was busy, rather than rely on that perverted servant of hers.

Her suggestion to use Charlie as a mediator held merit, but he couldn't help but feel that the princess' naivete would be an inhibiting factor. Still, who else could he recommend to be both neutral and experienced with strange… desires…

When a single pink arachnid popped into his thoughts, Alastor groaned. Oh, he did not want to ask him, but at the same time he couldn't deny that the whorish spider might be able to give better insight into what they were experiencing. Perhaps it would be best to have both of them there, to balance each other out. And if the two of them agreed on something, it would be twice the validation.

Oh, this would not be pleasant.

Still, he re-read the part where she declined to write about tuning in to his song. While he had theorized that something personal happened, given that she left without warning, he pondered what about it influenced her decision to remain at the hotel. What did she hear that made her decide to stay?

Over the next few days, Eliza realized very quickly that Alastor was making good use of his audio cues, and began memorizing them. The clicking sound to signify his departure was used often, but there were a few others to work with. When he entered a room she was in, the sound was similar to crackling static. If he needed to get close to her for something, he produced a soft radio hum, making sure she was aware of his presence up until the moment he moved away. And that Saturday night, she asked to be excused from Open Mic Night, which Charlie permitted reluctantly, and she heard three slow beeps. It's the only time she's heard that sound, and she still remained unsure as to its meaning.

Finally, there was the sound that meant he needed to speak with her. She heard the telltale hum of his approach, but then there was the sound of two low-frequency bumps, like tapping a microphone. It made her very nervous, but she turned to face him regardless with as polite a smile as she could manage.

"Excuse me, my dear," he began, maintaining a reasonable distance between them as he spoke, "have you seen Charlie?"

"She went out with Vaggie this morning," she replied, quickly. "They took the limo to go post fliers together."

"Ah, I see!" he exclaimed with a grin. "Then they should be easy enough to hunt down! Thank you." With that, he turned on his heel and vanished, not even bothering to physically walk out the door, though she still heard the clicking noise to signal his departure. Despite being able to breathe easier once he disappeared, she couldn't deny feeling a little guilty. There have been a couple letters between them since the first ones, and he seemed very eager to speak with her since she declined writing about his song. Unfortunately, that small exchange was the first time she didn't choke in his presence, and for a couple days it had remained the only time. It was frustrating, being unable to just speak to him, even about something trivial.

Alucard's antagonistic stance towards the Radio Demon lightened up significantly over the following days, which was a massive relief. Despite Eliza still being openly nervous around him, the crow no longer growled and cawed when he got close, though he did ruffle his feathers the time he spoke with her. Aside from that, her little protector seemed to deem him safe enough.

Curio was not so lucky. While no longer openly attacking him whenever he entered the room, the bird kept a close eye on the little rodent. It made their next counselling session difficult, as it took work to leave Alucard in her personal room so that he would stop preventing the rat demon from entering the therapy room. At the end of the session, however, Curio was blitzed by a raging crow the moment he stepped out. Somehow, the bird had escaped the apartment.

His method of escape didn't remain a mystery for long, however. When Curio ran up the stairs to hide in his room, Alucard flew into the lobby from the mezzanine, where Eliza watched as he pecked at a plate full of small pieces of meat. Someone had left a treat out for him, and aside from Eliza, there was now only one other person in the entire hotel who did that.

She had approached Curio about what happened, but the little rat remained stubbornly tight-lipped, though it looked like he wanted to say something. Even though it was obvious what little he told her had been a lie, she decided not to press further as he seemed downright terrified of talking about it. Given Alastor's open yet passive hostility towards him, she could only guess that he did something to make him keep quiet, and she knew better than to look for an explanation from the stubborn deer. No, she wasn't going to get any answers, so she decided it would be best to let this one go.

No point fighting a battle when you know you've lost. Maybe in the future she'd ask about it, when this becomes a distant memory. She'd just have to keep an eye out for trouble, just like always.

It was just a shame she'd have to watch her friends just as closely as everyone else.

When Vaggie went out to check the mail that Monday afternoon, she was pleased to see three letters. One was from a sponsor addressed to Alastor, and she grimaced. She hated that they only seemed to want to speak with the Radio Demon. Sure he managed their finances, but it made her incredibly suspicious. After all, this was Charlie's business; they should be writing to her. He may have convinced the princess that it was for the best, but Vaggie remained apprehensive. While not sure what to expect, part of her was just waiting to find guests mysteriously disappearing. Just what was that cannibalistic overlord promising these people?

The second letter was, unsurprisingly, for Angel Dust. Now that people were becoming more aware that the hotel existed, Angel's creepy fan letters started appearing in their mailbox, and some of them without envelopes. She quickly learned how to identify them, because accidentally reading a couple because she wasn't sure what they were almost resulted in her losing her lunch. Sweet Satan, some of these people were just sick.

As for the third letter…

"Holy shit," she breathed. Admittedly, she wasn't sure how to feel about this one, but she rushed back inside nonetheless. Charlie will be thrilled to see it, but Vaggie fretted a bit. Knocking on her lover's door, she entered Charlie's office with a worried expression. "Hey hon, you got a letter today."

Charlie looked up instantly, jumping to her feet excitedly. "Ooo! Maybe it's a new client!"

"Trust me, it's not," Vaggie denied, carefully. The princess looked confused for a moment, but when the moth held out the letter she took it, more carefully than she would have if Vaggie hadn't seemed so concerned. Then she read the return address and squealed.

Lilith Magne.

Vaggie watched as the princess tore the letter open greedily. It had been months since she heard anything from her parents, and despite the musical gift her father sent, she hadn't heard anything else from him. At first she had thought it was a way of showing his silent support, but soon she felt that she was mistaken when he made no further attempt to contact her. Whatever reason he sent that gift remained a mystery, and one that wouldn't be answered any time soon. Assuming there was ever a greater reason.

Still, the growing smile on Charlie's face made the moth hopeful. "What'd she say, hon?"

"She says I'm doing better than she expected." Vaggie narrowed her eye at the backhanded compliment, but didn't interrupt. If she expected her daughter to do poorly, then why the fuck did she dodge her calls whenever she wanted advice? All she needed was a push in the right direction, but instead she left her alone and feeling trapped. If she had just helped, perhaps Charlie wouldn't have been desperate enough to sign on the Radio Demon as a business partner. Even so, she decided not to say anything. Charlie seemed pleased enough; who was she to ruin it with negative thoughts? Though she noticed the moment when the princess' shoulders tensed. "Mom says to come home and visit whenever I need a break. She… she says not to push myself too hard…"

Vaggie knew there was more by the way she trailed off. She looked over her lover's shoulder, finding the section she was reading and finishing the statement she had started. "Don't push yourself too hard… for a lost cause."

Oh, she could slap the queen right about now. Lilith may be the more gentle and supportive of her parents, but to be so passive-aggressive against Charlie's dream made her blood boil. Summoning her spear, she gripped the shaft for comfort. Charlie would never forgive her for shoving it up her parents' asses, but that didn't stop her from thinking about it every now and then, and this was certainly one of those times.

"I'm sorry-" she began, but then she looked at Charlie's face. Despite the beginnings of tears, she saw a sparkle of hope there.

"Mom and dad always say it's hopeless, but they never tell me why," she muttered, clutching the letter tightly. "I always thought it was because they knew something I didn't, but if even now they won't tell me, then maybe…" She looked into Vaggie's eye, and the moth saw that fiery strength that no one in Hell believed the princess had. A look of confidence and defiance. "...Then maybe there's no reason at all! Maybe… maybe they just don't believe it's possible, but it really is!"

"That's the spirit, hon," Vaggie cheered. She loved seeing Charlie get fired up like this. It reminded her of what she saw in her the first day they met, but also stirred her in other ways. He eye lingered on the woman's lips, and she licked her own.

"I'm going to do this, no matter how long it takes," the princess continued, balling her hands into fists and crumpling the letter in the process. "I'm going to show them that my people can be saved!"

"If anyone can do it, you can," the moth agreed with a smile. Then she opened her lover's fist, pulling out the ruined letter and tossing it to the side. "I have nothing but faith in you. But now…" She sat on Charlie's lap, kissing her lips before moving over to her neck, and Charlie gasped as her mouth travelled lower and lower. "Let me show you how to really support a princess."

Oh, Charlie loved seeing Vaggie get fired up like this.

Charlie was on cloud nine the rest of the day after Vaggie basically ravaged her in her office. She felt absolutely amazing; Vaggie really had a gift for cheering her up. And a surprisingly naughty tongue for someone so pragmatic.

Unfortunately it was a rather slow day, as she had already finished posting all the fliers she made, and there were no more letters to answer. The guests were all sorted, there were no other financial matters to be discussed (other than Eliza's compensation, which was still being worked on), and so she decided to go around checking on each guest individually for the evening, since nothing really happens Monday nights yet. Lakavi brushed her off but eventually said she was fine just to get the princess to leave her alone. Charlie took it as progress; at least she got an answer.

Matiu was quick with an insult and told her to fuck off, and Paressu was high as a kite. He wanted to lick her red cheeks and see if they tasted like cherries, so she decided to leave, but not before taking his stash with a firm reminder that drugs weren't allowed in the hotel. Erpa was nowhere to be seen, but she usually came back late in the day, so she'd just try to catch her later. Niffty was more than happy to talk her ear off, and the two had fun before the little housekeeper ran into the kitchen to start work on dinner, and Husk told her he was 'fuckin' dandy' and went back to his cards.

Harve and Curio were together in the pink demon's room. She wasn't sure what they were talking about, but Harve sounded pretty upset. When she knocked, it got eerily quiet for a while before Harve came and opened the door, letting her in. Asking her usual questions, she noticed that while the older man could laugh and tell her everything was fine, Curio fidgeted and avoided eye-contact. Despite trying to press for details, Harve deflected like a pro, and the little rat remained quiet about whatever had been wrong moments ago. She decided to leave them alone, but not before telling the younger man to come and talk to her if he needed anything.

Charlie wondered if she needed to speak with everyone more regularly, now that things were settling down. She got so wrapped up in managing things that she didn't interact with everyone as much as she wanted to, and felt she needed to fix this quickly. She wondered if she should have a talk with Eliza; people seemed to open up to her pretty well. Maybe she was missing something. Otherwise, surely she wouldn't be blown off all the time.

Finally, there was Angel Dust, who was nowhere to be seen. When he wasn't sleeping in, at the bar or in a therapy session, no one really saw him around, and she always worried that he was getting into trouble. She knew about his job and wished that he would just leave and stay at the hotel, but he always countered by saying he loved his profession and had no interest in leaving. Sure he had that breakdown before the reception, but since then he's remained stubbornly tight-lipped, and Eliza wouldn't release any patient information unless it was for someone's safety, so she couldn't get any information from her, either.

Sighing, Charlie slumped against the outside wall next to the entrance when she came back after taking a walk around the building to see if he was somewhere on the premises. Really, she wasn't sure what she expected to find. Did she think Angel was just strolling around the empty lot, whistling to himself while wandering aimlessly?

Still, she could hope. Despite what Angel said, or even how he acted, she knew he was a good guy deep down. Sure he acted out every now and then, but with a little encouragement he was moving forward. That first day they spoke, she could see the regret in his eyes. It was a small thing, but it was there. Even though they now had a small group of guests rather than the initial one and only, she'd never forget how he was the first sinner in Hell to give her a chance, and she would never give up on him, no matter what Vaggie warned her about. She even noticed that Alastor seemed to be getting along with him somewhat, and given the Radio Demon's aversion to everything Angel does, that's quite a big step forward.

Unfortunately, he was a hard person to help. Despite his occasional outburst or slip-up, she never got much out of him when they spoke. The last time she really got to talk about something emotional with the spider was when he had been high months ago, and since then he's been his usual sarcastic, deflective self. Since the first time he said he was scared of his boss, he refused to talk about his work anymore outside of "It's what I'm good at," or, "I enjoy my job." It made her very worried about him, but how could she help him if he didn't let her in?

As such, Charlie was left running in circles at square one.

Giving up, she went back inside. Usually Angel's work took him out at night, so she had hoped that looking for him during the day would be fruitful. Still, she had one more option.

"Hey, Husk?" she asked, walking back up to the bar.

"Not another fuckin' interrogation…" he groaned, dragging his claws down his face.

"No, no... Well, I mean, I have a question, but-"

"Don't hurt yourself, Princess," Husk grunted as she babbled, "just ask already."

"Have you seen Angel? I want to talk to him, too, but I can't find him anywhere."

Ugh, Angel's eyes were bad enough, but the Princess' puppy eyes could soften up anybody. He sighed. "He went out."

"Do you know where he went?"

"No, I don't. Ain't my place to ask. He said he wanted to blow off steam." When he finished, he stared at Charlie as she slumped. It was downright pathetic, how put-out she looked. "Look, just shoot him a text or some shit."

"I'm… kind of afraid to," she admitted, sadly. "If I text him about wanting to talk, he might not even come back to the hotel."

Husk grumbled before saying, "Just fuckin' text him already. Trust me, he'll wanna talk."

Turning to face him, she asked, "How do you know?"

"Ain't tellin'." With that, he shoved the bottle into his mouth and started chugging, signifying how very done he was with this conversation.

Able to take a hint, Charlie turned and walked away, whipping out her phone.

Charlie (C.): Hey, Angel? Can you come back to the hotel please?

His reply came before she even had a chance to put her phone back in her pocket.

Angel (A.): Seriously? It's my day off, and it ain't group therapy day.

(C.): I just wanted to talk. Maybe I could come to you? Where are you?

There was a pause before his reply, one long enough to make her wonder if he was going to just ignore her after all. Finally, a text came in.

(A.): I'm at the supermarket. Getting food. Because the hotel's stock sucks. Just… meet me there, K?

(C.): K!

Charlie raced out the door, a huge smile on her face. Finally, Angel was willing to talk!

Yay for progress!