Chapter 56

Plant the Seeds

As soon as they walked in the front door, Rosie turned away from the front desk to greet them. "There you are, dears! Alastor, this tardiness is becoming a habit!"

"Forgive me," he apologized, though he didn't sound particularly sincere as he pointed down at Eliza, "she insisted that her crow be fed."

The dragoness turned to him with a flat expression, the crow in question currently waiting patiently outside. "You know, I gave you permission to throw me under the bus, not to back it up for good measure."

"One must always be thorough," he stated with a condescending calm.

"Regardless," Rosie interjected with a wave, "I understand that you're in need of a new outfit?"

"Yes, my other one was destroyed recently," she confirmed with a nod. "It will be another professional outfit, please."

"Excellent!" Prally exclaimed, taking hold of her shoulders and pushing her towards the measurements table. "Let's get started!"

As soon as the therapist was released, she rolled her shoulders with a sigh. Before the woman could start throwing ideas at her, she stated firmly, "I need pants this time, please."

The woman gave her a disapproving tsk. "Now, now, none of that! If anything, it's a blessing that those wretched things were lost! Now you'll be able to show off those… shapely legs."

As the woman drooled a bit, a tendril snapped behind Eliza's back. "Not this time. I want at least one pair of pants."

"But it's such a waste!" the seamstress insisted. "Why can't you simply-"

"Prally, dear."

When Alastor's voice sounded behind her back, the woman turned on her heel with a wide grin. "Oh, am I making something for you, too? What a wonderful-"

"No," Alastor interrupted with a small grin, "but you will do what Eliza asks for. If she wants pants, then she will have pants. Understood?"

"But-"

"Understood?"

Frozen to the spot, Prally wasn't accustomed to the wendigo taking that tone with her. As Eliza watched, the woman snapped herself out of her paralysis and nodded quickly, turning and silently getting to work.

"You seem to have a talent for cowing people," the therapist observed out loud, causing the seamstress to wince.

"Only when my patience reaches its limit." With that, he turned and walked back to the cash register to have a friendly chat while Eliza got fitted.

The rest of Prally's interactions were stilted with nerves, and the woman switched from fawning and touching to keeping her distance, unwilling to anger Alastor a second time. In a lot of ways, Eliza wasn't sure what to think. She's used to everyone in the colony being his devoted fans, but now she was starting to see that there was an underlying sense of dread as well. Everything's well and good as long as he's in a good mood, but the moment that shifts, they become as fearful as everyone else.

Maybe they kept their distance for reasons other than doing it out of respect. It was strange that, in the end, his fans were just as afraid of him as everyone else once his temper flared.

"I think you've made her nervous," Rosie mentioned, watching Eliza's aura pull in whenever she glanced at Alastor.

The wendigo cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? How so?"

"I don't know; perhaps you should ask her," she suggested in a terse tone. "I only see her aura, dearie. I'm not a mind reader."

"Ha! You've had me fooled for decades, then." Joking tone aside, he glanced irritably in the therapist's direction. Curse it all, he's been nothing short of a gentleman! Why is she nervous this time?!

"Perhaps instead of just playing nice, you should take some initiative?"

His head snapped back to stare at her in confusion. "I've already brought her out to make restitution! What more initiative can I give?"

She just shook her head with a light laugh. "You are hopeless, dearie."

He pouted slightly, looking away in an almost theatrical huff. "Oh fine, be cryptic if it amuses you. On a lighter note, I believe you mentioned an upcoming gathering?"

"Ah, yes," Rosie answered, happily. "You remember The Red Curtain?"

"It's been a while," he mused. "How is Dematanza doing these days?"

"Oh, the usual; two more affairs, one big scandal in the Center with a low-tier Ars Goetia…"

"Those demons are desperate for attention," Alastor sighed, shaking his head.

"It involved the severed head of a Jinn who apparently caught them in the middle of something they've kept most mysterious."

"Ha! To kill a Jinn… The cover-up must be spectacular!"

"I certainly don't envy them the work," Rosie giggled.

As the two continued to discuss upcoming events, Eliza was holding still while Prally took her measurements, though from the disgruntled woman's mutterings, it sounded as though she still remembered the ones she took months ago. Eliza wasn't sure if she should be impressed by her memory or concerned about why she memorized her measurements in the first place. Hopefully it was for job-related purposes.

She wasn't holding her breath on it.

At last, the clothes were finished, and she had a set similar to what was lost, though a bit improved. The blouse was a slightly darker shade of blue, and while it was still roughly the same shape, she had Prally add ruffles similar to her lavender blouse. She had really learned to like those, so if she was to replace her old set, she wanted it to have them, too. The pants were a bit different from her original slacks as well, going instead for a boot-cut flair at the bottom rather than the straight-cut from before.

As they walked back to what Eliza assumed were the only two dressing rooms in Hell to make sure they were a perfect fit, she tapped Prally's shoulder. "Before I go back, could you help me with something?"

"What?" Prally snapped, clearly fighting to maintain her smile as the corners of her mouth turned sharp.

"Could we price out another outfit?" the therapist inquired. "I'd like something for gardening; I don't want to get my work clothes dirty, and-"

"You want me to make clothes for commoner work now?!" Prally hissed, looking ready to throw her clothes to the floor. "This is the Emporium! If you want something for that, find some chintzy, low-brow stand somewhere else!"

When the woman turned away in a huff, Eliza just sighed. "Oh, very well." Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she asked, "Do you know anywhere that sells cheap long skirts?"

Freezing in place, Prally's eyes bulged slightly as her head whipped around. "Skirts?"

"It would be easier to move out of the way," Eliza explained, sounding somewhat dejected, "and that way I can move it around more freely instead of wearing out the knees. I had hoped for something that would last, but maybe that's just too much to ask of you."

"Th-that's not too much to-"

"And I would need boots, too," Eliza continued, acting like she was thinking out loud as the seamstress seemed to be going through an internal crisis. "A plain top would be good as well. Oh, but most work bottoms are pants… Maybe I should just not bother with the skirt, after all."

"Now wait just a gosh-darn minute!" Prally jumped in, having set down the clothes near the back to take both of Eliza's hands in hers. "There's no need to give up on that!"

"But where can I go?" Eliza pouted.

Prally's grip tightened as she pulled her hands together, holding them between them with a glint in her eyes. "You're right where you need to be!"

"But you said-"

"Enough of that!" she cut off, releasing her hands. "Tell me what we have to work with money-wise; we'll get you an outfit that'll survive all the dirt and grime you can throw at it!"

"If we could keep the dirt out of my scales, that would be lovely," Eliza mentioned, smiling sweetly as she joined the other woman at the crafting table.

Prally's smile broadened. "I have just the thing in mind!"

When Eliza came up to the register some time later with two outfits rather than one, Alastor made a small noise. Eliza looked up at his irritated expression with a confused head-tilt. "What? You never said I couldn't buy something, too."

His expression lightened. "Oh." Unable to think of anything else to say, he let her make the purchase as he looked over the unexpected addition. Even in its folded state, he could see it was rather plain, but it had more parts to it than the work outfit he was paying for. While the replacement for her lost clothes was a much finer design, the other seemed to have a long, mud-brown skirt, and the top was loose and beige. That, and it appeared to come with a set of gloves, the color of which matched the skirt.

"Oh, Rosie~!" Prally sing-songed, clearly in a much better mood than before. "There are a pair of boots as well. We'll have to hold on to them for now until she has the money to pay for them."

"Very well," the store-owner agreed with a nod. "Put them in the back, but keep them near the front of the room. Unlike the other orders, I trust she will actually come back for them."

"Nonsense," Alastor said with a wave of his hand. "Bring it up here; I can-"

"No." When the wendigo glared down at Eliza, she was holding up a hand to stop him. "You have bought what you promised; let me take care of the rest. Besides, this is an outfit for the garden. It's not like it's a project you approved of."

"Now hold on," he insisted, "I never disapproved, either!" When she just gave him a flat stare, he added, "Not completely, at any rate."

"Let me pay for it after my next paycheck," she commanded in a gentle voice.

"Perhaps you should accompany her when she returns for them," Rosie suggested, her back to them as she put away the money.

"Ah, yes, a fine idea!" Alastor agreed in a cheerful tone. "Always better to be safe than sorry, is it not?"

"Now that I wouldn't mind at all," Eliza told him. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it."

"Just try not to use puns to talk me into things next time," she droned.

"Ha! I make no promises." As soon as they stepped out of the Emporium, Alastor looked down at the bags in his hand. In typical gentlemanly fashion, he offered to carry everything, and in typical Alastor fashion, Eliza's polite refusal of his offer went utterly ignored. "So my dear, I simply must ask; however did you manage to persuade Prally of all people to make such drab attire?"

"Drab?" Eliza droned, giving him a warning glare. When Alucard landed on her shoulder, he gave a bereft squawk when his presence went seemingly unnoticed.

"Indeed!" Alastor confirmed, oblivious to her negative expression. "It is quite plain and colorless, my dear. I'm most surprised she agreed to make it."

"It was harder to get her to make the pants," Eliza giggled. "She can't seem to pass up putting me in a skirt."

When Eliza's brows furrowed, Alastor asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Is Prally like that with everyone?"

Alastor gave a sharp laugh. "She is very passionate about beauty, my dear. If nothing else, I'd take her fawning as a compliment!"

Eliza scrunched her nose. "Does she have to be so touchy, though?"

"Uncomfortable?" Alastor probed, curiously.

"I'm still getting used to Angel when he leans on my shoulder, but that's a friendly kind of touch. Obnoxious, but friendly. Touching my hair, however…"

Alastor watched the woman bristle. "How fortunate she's never attempted that with me. You are far more forgiving than I, it seems." As they walked on a bit in silence, the wendigo found himself rather bothered by what she said. Not just because the touching Prally got away with was rather inappropriate, but the fact that that sort of touching was forgivable at all. If someone she barely knew could touch her in uncomfortable ways, then why couldn't he touch her at all? After all, that's a form of touching he would never do. It all felt dreadfully unfair.

And then a thought crossed his mind that made his smile widen. Maybe… Maybe he did know the answer to that problem! Yes, it is possible that the solution is much simpler than he believed it to be.

He just wasn't sure he could commit to it without it backfiring gloriously.

As they walked, that group of women Alastor saw before was skulking in an alley across the street. As the pair walked by, Alastor watched them closely. They didn't scatter this time, and the suspicion from before seemed to turn to curiosity. Volatile curiosity, perhaps, but it was a step in the right direction.

Cassie was no longer at Plaisirs Crus, and when they passed, Olivia waved at them from the front counter. The horse-faced sinner from before was missing, and the manager seemed to be wiping blood off her face.

"Well, it seems that the new help didn't work out," Alastor joked, darkly. "I suppose he was caught-"

"If you say 'horsing around', I will touch you so as to have an answer for Angel Dust about your questionable possession of a tail."

When he covered his rump with a jump and that bumped microphone sound of his, she couldn't help but laugh. Then he said suddenly, "If I put a rest to that question for you, would you promise never to do so?"

Humming thoughtfully, she tapped her chin with a finger while looking up at the sky. Finally she just sighed. "Oh, alright. It's not as much fun not figuring it out myself, but with your coat-tail it's hard to tell. Still, no puns after answering or I will take back this promise, am I clear?"

"Clarify, my dear," he warned, playfully. "Just for this outing, or longer?"

"I'm not mean enough to deny you the right to torture me in the future. But I will say no more puns or dad jokes for the rest of the day."

Now it was his turn to give a thoughtful hum. "Very well, I suppose I can wait that long. The truth is, my dear, that I do not possess a tail."

Her head snapped to the side in surprise. "Wait, if that's the case, then why let people speculate about it? Wouldn't it be better just to give an answer so that they leave you alone?"

"Ha! And where's the fun in believing such a boring truth?" he asked. Despite the upbeat tone, there was a hint of bitterness to it that made it clear that he's had to deal with this plenty of times already. "After all, I could just be lying! Why, a cute, fluffy tail on the big bad Radio Demon? Surely I would keep that to myself for my intimidating image."

"To be fair, cuteness does cut into that," Eliza mentioned matter-of-factly.

"I find cute things to be rather enjoyable!" he argued, playfully. "Why, I have the cutest little maid in all of Hell, and Husk is quite adorable when he gets in a huff! However-" his tone went dark as his eyes flashed red, "-I do have a preference for cute things with teeth."

Eliza tilted her head curiously. "Does that mean Niffty's more dangerous than she lets on?"

His grin spread to just under his eyes. "I'd say ask her what became of her first affair in Hell, but frankly my dear, I tell the tale far better."

"Why is that?"

Suddenly he snapped his fingers, and a rather tall sinner in a dark blue leather jacket appeared out of nowhere, facing away from them. When he looked up from his phone, he practically dropped it with a squeak as he turned his rather flat, flushed face this way and that to get his bearings, his horns nearly hitting the nearby lamp-post. When Alastor turned him around and leaned on his shoulder in an almost buddy-buddy fashion, the sinner looked about ready to shit his pants. "Because I give a live demonstration, ha ha ha! Would you like to hear the story?"

The man fainted before Eliza even had a chance to answer. When she declined his offer, Alastor just laughed and brushed it off, strolling forward and leaving the sinner passed out on the pavement. They didn't even make it ten feet away before the group of cannibals watching them lunged for the meal their idol left behind.

"Thank you, Alastor!" one of the women called out, waving excitedly. When Alastor turned and nodded with his signature grin, she swooned. The wendigo returned his attention to his companion, who was looking back with a conflicted look on her face as Alucard shifted around excitedly on her shoulder. "Did you wish to join them?"

"Hm?" she hummed, looking up at him as she registered his question. "Oh, no, it's just…"

When she glanced back again, he looked between her and the feeding frenzy. Is he missing something? "What is it, then?"

"Nothing important," she told him, turning around. "Just a thought."

His eyes narrowed as she started to walk away from the chaos. Despite knowing it would be wise to drop the subject, his curiosity simply wouldn't allow it. When he easily caught up to her, he asked, "Have I upset you somehow?"

"No."

Her flat response made his eyebrow raise. Why is she acting strange today? As his car came within sight, he decided not to let it go. "I'm not sure I believe you."

"What?" she snapped, her eyes hardening.

"To put it simply, you've been off since we left," he stated, halting outside the passenger door to address her directly. "You were quite nervous all the way here, then didn't want to go to the restaurant, and don't think I didn't see those wary glances in the Emporium." When she looked away with an angry blush, his smile softened. "My dear, if my presence makes you uncomfortable even now, I would have you tell me why."

She glanced over at the car, and he took the hint. Opening the door and offering his hand, he couldn't help but sigh internally when she hesitated to take it. Still, when he climbed into the driver's seat, he became hopeful when she cleared her throat. "Alastor… does it bother you that your fans are afraid of you, too?"

"Afraid?" he laughed. "What are you talking about?"

"Prally doesn't strike me as the type to be silenced easily."

"Ah, that matter. My dear, it's hardly surprising that she recognizes such a vast power difference. Angering an overlord is not in the cards for most."

"So… are you more bark than bite with the people here?"

"I can be… gentler with my colonists," he growled, his eyes narrowing as he stared out the windshield, "but I have been known to put my foot down with them if they push me too far."

'Should we ask the question now?' Id asked eagerly.

'He's going to be angry, but there won't be a better time,' Superego conceded.

"Did you try to eat Cassie when she used her pheromone?"

Alastor was very glad at that moment that he waited to start the car. He was fairly certain that question would have caused him to swerve into a building. If not as an accident, then as an excuse not to answer that question. "I… No."

A low buzz sounded in the car, building like a static charge as his discomfort started rising. Figuring that signaled that asking why was a bad idea, Eliza just said, "Oh," and waited for him to do something.

Then his eyes refocused, and he started the car. "Well, time to head back! I have a letter to get to, and I do believe Charlie wished to go out and pick up supplies for…"

The man didn't stop talking until they returned to the hotel, and Eliza just petted Alucard in her lap as she felt somewhat dejected, knowing full well he wouldn't let her get a word in. Twice now he's completely dismissed personal questions, and she felt validated for not prying into such things before now. And he wondered why she was so reluctant to share with him.

She remembered his offer for a private game of truth or dare and wondered if he actually realized that he was just as unwilling to talk as she was. If she brought it up, would he even listen?

From the way this one-sided conversation was going, probably not.


He… Wasn't sure what he expected, really.

Alastor woke up early as usual, taking care of a purposefully delayed response to a rather irritating potential sponsor and, as usual, glancing over the financial reports. Nothing new, aside from the budgeted amount of supplies Charlie and Vaggie picked up yesterday for the arts and crafts starting next week. Sometimes Vaggie's temper surprised him; Charlie having difficulty following a budget made sense given her royal upbringing, but somehow he thought the moth would be more understanding. Perhaps her attachment to her girlfriend was overriding her financial sense, if the growl he got upon their return was any indication.

But when he finished his light workload, he decided to step out of the hotel for a private walk only to hear voices somewhere along the side of the building. Unable to make them out, he sent his shadow to deal with a possible threat only for the servant to return before fully making it out of sight. When the shade started motioning around the corner, Alastor sighed as he realized it didn't want to merge and ruin some sort of 'surprise.'

When he peeked around the corner, he just stared for a good, long minute at Eliza and Paressu kneeling in the dirt. Eliza, wearing her incomplete outfit and apparently unwilling to get her work shoes dirty, was digging in the dirt with her gloved hands as the cat instructed her.

Two things about the scene made his irritation spike. First of all; the fact that she was still under the instruction of that drug fiend. Was this to be a regular occurrence with this project now? But also, her working the dirt disturbed him, somehow. He couldn't put his finger on why, but when she first announced that she was starting a garden, he somehow never expected to see her like this. He saw the drab attire she bought, knew she intended to grow food, and yet something about this situation felt wrong, somehow.

When she looked about to turn around, he backed out of sight in embarrassment. What is he doing? Why is he just spying on her right now? Why, it's downright ungentlemanly of him! But also…

He flicked his wrist, and the shadow gave a nasty grin before zooming around to where the two sinners were planting.

"That's the last of the seeds," Eliza announced, covering them with the shifted dirt and patting it down into place. Looking to the side, she looked at the four small mounds that marked where the tomatoes would grow with some pride. There weren't a lot of seeds to begin with, and he suggested planting more than one in each spot to make sure they took, but it was a start. A very small start, but every little bit helped.

"Alright, looks good," Paressu nodded, standing up and scrunching his nose as he brushed the dirt out of his fur. "Ugh, now I have to brush it all ou-EEEK!"

When the druggie suddenly shrieked and hid behind the back wall of the building, Eliza turned sharply to see a familiar shade wheezing darkly. The servant slithered quickly along the ground and back to Alastor, who was slowly walking over to her. "My, my, such a jumpy thing, isn't he?"

"What did you do?" she asked blankly, trying hard not to show that she was laughing internally.

Unfortunately for her, the amusement was shining in her eyes. Alastor gave a tut, his shadow appearing behind him with a cheeky grin. "I didn't do anything! Why, my shadow can be such a naughty thing, particularly to unfavorable company. Pulling a poor little cat's tail… tsk tsk."

Her slow-blinking gaze was drenched in disbelief. "So he acts on his own now, does he?"

"He can," Alastor told her, truthfully. "All shades are capable of holding autonomy."

Eliza's eyes widened slightly when she realized he was serious. "Oh. I always thought they were forced to obey their… um… What is the person they're attached to according to them? I assume they aren't all in a master-servant relationship."

"Certainly not," Alastor concurred. "It takes power and will to make a proper shade like him. But a shadow can be just as willful as its owner, and sometimes even more so. Isn't that right?" He purred that question, and the shadow's eyes narrowed playfully.

"You know, I never thought to ask because he's your shadow, but if that's true, does he have a name?"

"Nope! The shadow realm operates a little differently. Names are rather important, you see, so they aren't widely shared."

Eliza thought on his words. "Maybe, but you never thought to give him a name? You know, just as something to call him by?"

"Technically I don't need to speak with him at all," the wendigo shrugged. "I just do it because I prefer conversation over silence."

They heard a loud CAW overhead, and Alucard circled down to the pair. Eliza watched and, after a moment, realized he wasn't coming to her yet. She stood with a small grin, watching as the shadow-man's expression fell slightly when the bird landed on his head with a squawk. "I didn't know you two were particularly well acquainted."

"They aren't," Alastor stated, somewhat confused. "I do believe they've only interacted once, at least directly."

When the bird roosted in the shadow's 'hair', the servant reached up, took hold of the crow, and lifted up before carefully holding it out to Eliza, who took him with a grateful and somewhat apologetic smile. "Thank you." Pulling the bird in, apparently Alucard was in the mood for attention and made no attempt to flutter up to her shoulder, instead putting his head down as she ran a single finger down his back before fluffing up. "Anyway, I'm surprised you're here. Honestly, I thought you'd want nothing to do with the garden."

"I'm not here for the-" he glanced down at the meager mounds meant to start everything, "garden. I merely heard you and… Where did he go, anyway?" The shadow zoomed around the corner, and they heard a surprised shriek followed by yelling that grew more distant as they listened. "Ah, there he is! Anyway, I heard you talking and wanted to make sure there was no funny business going on!"

With an annoyed expression, Eliza droned, "And you decided to freak out Paressu because..?"

"Is it a crime to want a private conversation?" he teased. "Besides, it seemed as though his instructions were at an end. If his purpose has been served, I see no reason tolerating his presence longer than necessary."

When they stood there for a quiet moment, Eliza cleared her throat. "I know you have a bit of a black-thumb issue, but did you want to try-"

"Not at all!" he declined with a scoff. "This project is for those who seek betterment, my dear. I have no desire to partake in such a laborious task where I stand to gain little to nothing. The only thing going for this place is your company."

Confused as to whether she should feel offended or flattered, the therapist simply shrugged. "It's for everyone who lacks the power to summon their own surplus of ingredients."

"Ha! Fair enough." Glancing back down at her first mounds meant to grow into plants, his claws clicked in discomfort. "I must admit, however, that I thought you would take something more of a supervisory position in this project."

Her brows furrowed as she tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Did… Did you always intend to tend the fields with the rest of the rabble here?"

"Of course," she stated, clearly believing her answer to be obvious. "Why wouldn't I? Fresh ingredients are hard to find otherwise. Besides, the dirt washes off just fine."

"You truly don't see working the soil as… beneath you?"

Her expression flattened. "Maybe I should have extended your dad joke ban to cover today, too."

"Don't be so upset, it just means I'm frond of you!"

"I warned Rosie this would happen…" she muttered to herself.

"You should learn to have a little fern, my dear," he teased. "And don't forget that- Wait, what did you just say?"

"Rosie was the one that suggested that I should start the garden myself," she sighed. "I just knew you'd start using plant jokes to torture me."

Alastor's neck clicked as dials flashed in his eyes. "How is it that you turn everyone against me so easily?!"

"Because I'm nicer than you."

Alastor raised a finger and opened his mouth to say something… only for his mind to draw a blank. "Touché."