Chapter 24
Planning
After Alastor had brought the radio to his room, Angel Dust had decided to relax and go back to sleep until about noon or so. Apparently by doing so, he missed a shit-ton of action, because when he went downstairs to spend some time with Husk a few hours later, the cat looked downright exhausted as he absent-mindedly shuffled his cards.
"Damn," he started, sitting down at the card table. Husk barely grunted at him. "Da fuck happened to ya?"
"Been a long ass mornin'," he grumbled. "Shit went down on the second floor; had to run and get the princess and her girlfriend to break up a fight."
"Second floor?" Angel mused. "K, that's my floor, and Erpa… and the shrink. What time did that happen, anyways? Didn't hear shit after I woke up, so it had ta happen while I was sleepin'. Who goes for a scrap that early?!"
"Alastor."
Angel stared as Husk told him about what went down. The cat saw Alastor's shadow popping around the rooms, then saw the man himself walking around with a radio under his arm. Husk decided to sit in the stairwell with his cards and keep an ear out for shit to go horribly wrong. He heard him give one to Angel, then continued listening as he went into the shrink's room. When things started to escalate, he ran to get Charlie and Vaggie involved; running in himself would just cause Alastor to lash out at him for interrupting; being friends with the guy sucked, sometimes. Angel asked what Alastor got so angry about, but when he heard…
"Wait, wait, wait," Angel interrupted, "the shrink, who obsesses over professionalism, makes friends with cannibals and has a thing for Radio Daddy, is going out with fuckin' VOX?! When da fuck did that start?!"
"Fuck if I know," Husk growled. "But it set Al right off. He didn't jump straight to the attack, but he was creepin' up on it. Probably 'cause she's a lady. If it'd been me, he'd've gone for the fuckin' throat before even gettin' to his first question."
"Wait, ain't ya friends an' shit?" Angel asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yea; that's why he'd be pissed, otherwise he'd just kill me without even thinkin' about it. At least after I explain what's goin' on, he'd probably calm the fuck down. Might even apologize if my reason seemed legit. If it was a stranger, we'd never find the body."
"So… is he right?" Angel pressed. "She lookin' ta fuck 'im six ways ta Sunday? That just doesn't seem her style."
"She said it's not about him, but I doubt he believes it. Not sure what happened after I went to get the princess, but it wasn't goin' well."
Angel sighed as he watched Husk pull out what were becoming his favorite shot glasses, and he smiled. "Well, far be it from me ta interfere with a fightin' couple, but Al pokin' 'round for answers ain't gonna go well for anyone, and the last thing I need is Al probing me for info on TV Dick. Peepin' on my bosses ain't gonna go well for me, and neither will pissin' off Mr. Paranoid. So… I kinda need a plan, here. I ain't stickin' my dick on the choppin' block for this shit."
Even Husk flinched at that metaphor, though knowing what he did about Valentino, it may be less metaphorical than he cared to consider. "Well, there's somethin' that might work, but… Thing is, I ain't sure she's gonna go wit' it."
"A'ight, tell me what it is," Angel grinned. "I got the charm to talk anyone into anything."
"Might be better if she isn't aware of it," Husk said. "I… run recon for Al sometimes, but I'd be made long before I could get close enough. Vox knows who I am, and Eliza's too fuckin' sharp. I wouldn't get anywhere."
"So… Whatcha need, sweetie?"
Husk would have growled at being called that, but he was getting used to the spider's fond nicknames. "This."
When he held up a small item, Angel looked deeply confused. "A… lighter?"
"Ain't just a lighter," Husk told him, popping off the bottom and showing a switch. "Little radio. Can tune into any station, but doesn't make a sound."
"And that helps ya… how?"
"If a radio's on, Al can listen through it. He can also turn radios on if he's close enough, but that would give him away, so he just does it to mess with people sometimes."
"Radio's ain't the only things gettin' turned on when he's close," Angel teased, earning a groan from Husk. Although now that he has a radio in his room, he will have to be very careful what he says. Still, it needing to be on is a plus, at least. "Alright, so we gotta talk the shrink into lettin' Al peep on her next date. I can do that."
"I'm serious, Angel," Husk growled, "it's better if she doesn't-"
"No." The cat's ears went flat when Angel cut him off. "Look she ain't into the sneaky shit, K? Sneakin' up on her means she ain't gonna put out if we're caught. I'm gonna tell her what's what and I can guarantee she'll take it."
"Let me guess," Husk sighed, "intuition?"
"Damn straight, babe," Angel grinned. He turned on his heel and strutted towards the back, disappearing around the corner with a hip-sway and a blow-kiss towards the veteran, who sighed. Husk hated to admit it (not that he ever would), but he was actually starting to find Angel's intuition to be surprisingly reliable.
Something about the unassuming front of a speakeasy made Alastor feel much more at home. Ah, the prohibition era; such nostalgia. Establishments that sold the illicit substance of alcohol always had the scarcest of advertisement, barely even a sign. Jazzy Tonics was such a lovely throwback; if it wasn't for its owner's merciless flirting, this would be one of his favorite places in Hell; second to his radio tower, of course.
In all honesty, he wasn't sure why he was here. If there was ever a day he should desire to avoid someone's amorous attention, today would certainly be it. And yet here he stood, ready to enter Mimzy's club and put up with her aggressive flirting and invasive tendencies in the name of enjoying a classy venue and beautiful music. Oh, the things a gentleman must tolerate for a cultured existence.
And, as expected, the woman nearly jumped out of her dress when he walked through the door. Normally, he'd be far more boisterous in greeting someone, but given the theme of a speakeasy is to speak easy, he used a softer voice, though his movements were no less animated. "Good to see you, Mimzy dear! It's been so very long since I've had the time to enjoy your lovely abode!"
"Ally!" she swooned, stepping away from the man at the front desk, who looked more than a little relieved to see her go. "I'm so happy to see ya, sweetie! Why didn't ya tell me you were comin'?!"
"And spoil the surprise? Perish the thought, my dear!" While outwardly welcoming, he tensed as she came closer. Despite her awareness of his need for personal space, he always felt like she was on the verge of embracing him in spite of it, and she always enjoyed pushing the limits of how close she was permitted to be.
"Normally I'd say it's rude ta show up without callin' first, but I'll let it slide this time, hon. And Rosie, how'd you talk 'im into comin'? I know you had somethin' ta do with this!"
"On the contrary; the idea was his," the tall demoness pointed her fan in his direction, and his smile widened at the acknowledgement. "It was also his idea to make it a surprise. I think he was counting on you fainting with joy."
"You know I'm made o' tougher stuff than that," she teased, pushing out her hip.
Alastor laughed softly. "That's why it would be such a sweet victory!"
"Oh, Ally~" she cooed, playfully, "doncha start toyin' with me. Gonna make a lady blush."
"I relish the occasion!" As the group made their way inside, many customers grew nervous upon seeing the pair of intimidating overlords. Mimzy's friendliness kept them in their seats, but the already quiet atmosphere muted just that little bit more.
"So what can I do for ya, sweetie?" she asked as her friends took a seat at a table near the stage.
"I came for the sheer enjoyment of your dulcet tones, my dear." Alastor folded his hands and placed his chin down on them. "I do hope you'll honor me with a lovely performance tonight. I'm in need of such a refined distraction, and I can think of none better."
"Oh, honey," she crooned, "sweet-talk me like that, and I'll distract you with a lot more." She blew him a kiss, to which he only lightly laughed.
"Afterwards, do come and sit awhile," Rosie invited. "I'm loath to see today end too soon! Such a wonderful get-together we'll have!" As Mimzy made her way up onto the stage, Rosie turned curiously to Alastor. "Do you intend to tell her about your little mishap?"
"Why spoil a wonderful evening with unpleasant events?" he asked, cheerfully.
"Oh, don't pull that on me," Rosie reprimanded lightly. "Telling her about this would drive her wild with jealousy, and you can't tell me you don't find that entertaining. I saw you at the Reception, my dear. You adore her passionate obsession, don't you?"
Alastor tilted his head thoughtfully for a moment, his smile tightening in discomfort. "Actually, I don't."
"Oh, come now!" Rosie laughed harshly, making Alastor's ear twitch irritably. "You were ready to enjoy a brawl between her and Eliza! I saw you watching so very eagerly."
"It was not Mimzy that interested me." Their gazes met, and Rosie gave him a questioning glance. "I was so surprised when you told me Eliza had any sort of affectionate side that seeing a sudden rivalry form between her and Mimzy became utterly fascinating. She has surprised me in many ways; she favors honesty, but fooled me with a most convincing bluff. She can be bold, she can be withdrawn, she's a stalwart professional with a repressed passion for deviance, she enjoys learning and adores music, but when approached about either becomes deeply embarrassed. When I first met her, I was so sure that I had her figured out, and yet… I can't read her."
"Ah, is that what this is about?" Rosie asked, leaning closer to her friend. "Is all this curiosity and fascination simply because you've found someone you can't understand?"
"There is something buried in there," he growled, his grip on his microphone tightening to the point of his leather glove creaking as it stretched. "She buries it deep under layers of posturing and professionalism, and it makes it hard to understand what I see when it surfaces. I catch glimpses of it; playful, clever, violent… monstrous." Dipping into his static, the air around him shifted. "I see it, I push it further and then it vanishes behind that icy façade and it makes me want to drag it back out and-"
Blood dripped from his free hand, and he blinked down at it in surprise. He hadn't even noticed when he had balled his fist so tightly that his own claws punctured through the glove and into his flesh. The nearly-black blood dripped and faded into jagged symbols and black vapors, drawing in hungry shadows ready to serve. Nearby guests started to become visibly nervous, but Alastor merely laughed. "Ah, it appears I'm making quite a mess!" Summoning his shadow, the servant deftly wrapped his hand in a cloth before disappearing as quickly as he came, causing the lesser spirits to slowly vanish. "My apologies my friend; I'm afraid I sometimes find Eliza to be somewhat… frustrating."
"Oh, on the contrary," Rosie argued with a playful grin, "it sounds like you absolutely adore her. No wonder you're so upset, deary. You start to make progress with her just for your rival to swoop in and steal your prize."
"What amazes me is how very surprised she was! Is it so wrong to covet my friends from such a distasteful waste of media?"
"Of course not!" Rosie agreed, haughtily. "But she's a very willful creature, deary. Keeping her may take some persuasion. This could be difficult if she starts keeping you at arm's length for a while."
"Ah, but there are many ways to communicate," he grinned. "And I happen to have an idea in that regard."
"Oh?" As the two spoke, Mimzy's introduction was over, and the music started to play. Alastor longed to lose himself in the music, to relax in the style and comfort of his time. "And what do you plan to do?"
"Later tonight, once I return to the hotel with a clearer mind," he began, staring up at the club-owner as she winked down at him, making the corners of his smile strain slightly, "I plan to write a letter."
Humming a little tune, Angel knocked on Eliza's door. After a bit of a pause he heard, "One moment, please!"
Deciding it'd be best if she knew who was knocking, he replied, "Take too long an' I'm grabbin' Husk for a quickie!"
"No you fuckin' ain't!" the cat called from downstairs, and Angel laughed his ass off as he heard a chuckle on the other side of the door.
After another minute or so, Eliza opened the door with a smile. "What do you need, Angel? Do you want to have a non-scheduled session, or reschedule your-"
"Nah, that ain't it," he interrupted. "Can I come in an' level wit' ya? It's about Al."
The two stood there uncomfortably for a moment, Eliza looking suddenly far less pleased about his visit. Finally she sighed and stepped aside, letting him waltz right in before shutting the door. She glanced quickly at the clock and saw she still had another hour before needing to leave, so she had time to hear him out at least. Still, part of her really didn't want to. "Has Alastor done something? Is he impeding your progress in some way?"
"Nah; guy gave me a radio this morning, but nothin' else… unfortunately." Angel stuck out his tongue and winked before continuing, making a note of the broken radio on the floor as he made himself comfortable in a chair. "But seriously, this ain't about me; it's about you two havin' some sorta fight." When Eliza's form started taking on its darker shades, he held up a hand. "Just listen before ya blow a fuse, K? I got an idea ta help ya out coolin' his jets, but I gotta ask first: Are you seriously seein' Vox? Like, for real?"
Groaning loudly, her eyes narrowed as she answered, "Though it's none of your business, we are not 'seeing' each other in the way you're clearly thinking. We spend time together as friends and nothing more." Not in the mood to mention Vox's obvious attempts at flirting, she decided to leave it at that and wait for Angel's reply.
"K, if ya say so. Just… don't trust the guy. An' don't go mentionin' that I said anythin'; he's fuckin' my boss and I don't need him tellin' Val I'm bad-mouthin' him right now, capiche?"
Eliza hid her surprise at hearing that rather well, but internally she flinched. Well, she knew there was no way he was honestly single despite his claims and romantic attention towards her, but dating a business partner rubbed her the wrong way. Romance and business just don't mix, but also it made her nervous. He said an associate wanted to meet her, but went very vague on the details. If he's sleeping with Valentino, and it turned out that he was the one who was joining them, then whatever Vox wanted from her was likely to involve him in some way, and it was likely to be a personal favor.
That was enough reason for concern right there.
"I'll keep that in mind," she said, sweetly. "Thank you for your concern, Angel. But what does this have to do with Alastor?"
"I'm gettin' to that," he huffed. "Look, Al's likely to go pokin' around Vox because of this, and I don't need him messin' wit' me because he wants me ta spy on my bosses. So, I gotta plan ta put his paranoia to bed before I get canned, alright?" Holding up Husk's lighter-radio, he showed her the false bottom. "This is a radio, and I just learned that Radio Daddy can listen in on any active radio."
NOW Eliza showed not only her surprise, but also how absolutely livid she was. Rubbing his arm as a chill passed by him, Angel wondered briefly if he was actually in danger. "He…" She looked down at the broken radio, whatever sad emotions she felt about it's broken state evaporating quickly as she felt an icy wave of betrayal. Taking her trademark calming breath, she returned to her neutral state and, with a small smile she stated, "I was never informed of this, but I think I know where you're going with this. My answer is no, Angel; I'm not taking that little radio with me tonight."
Angel gulped. She's going to see Vox tonight?! Despite a feeling of panic piercing his brain, he also knew he had to move fast. If he could get this problem taken care of now rather than later, it put him in a much safer place. But how to get her to agree when she's already declined…
"Alright, how about a bet?" Before Eliza could decline, he continued; "Look, he knows you're seein' TV Head, but he didn't give ya a new radio, did he? Just left this broken pile o' scrap here; didn't even try, right?"
"What's your point?"
"I bet that there's one otha room in this entire hotel that ain't gotta radio. Look, whateva happened this mornin' doesn't change a couple facts, K? One: You two are pals, and Two: He actually respects your obsession with bein' professional. He's here ta fuck around with people, but he doesn't pester ya for shit. And I bet that, despite his morbid curiosity, invasive tendencies and now raging paranoia, there still ain't a radio in the room next door."
Eliza's body reverted to normal as she stood there, heavily conflicted between her professional and emotional standings. If Angel was wrong, Alastor would have to answer for breaching confidentiality, which she was fairly certain she would never be able to fully forgive. At the same time, however, if even after all that's happened he still respected this boundary, then maybe she could...
"What's the bet?"
"If I'm right, then you take the radio with ya an' prove him right or wrong; yer choice. If I'm wrong and he fucked up, then fuck 'im and his answers. Whaddya say?"
Not even taking the time to verbally agree, she threw open the door and stomped one room over. As she closely inspected every single solitary place a radio of any size could be hidden, Angel tapped his finger. Honestly, if Alastor made him into an ass by proving him wrong and sneaking a radio into her workspace, he was going to give him a piece of his mind, too. A person could say many things about Angel Dust, but calling him a shitty friend was too far, and the very few real friends he had knew this. That's not including the fact that, if there's a radio after all, he was fucked.
For once in his afterlife, fortune smiled on him. When Eliza returned, she looked surprised but calm as she reached out a hand.
"A deal's a deal," she said. "Give me the radio; I'll let him listen."
"Just so ya know, you're doin' me a solid, too." When she took the radio from him, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks. But seriously, just… play it safe with Vox, K? He ain't a guy ta fuck around wit'."
Honestly honored by his concern, she bowed her head slightly. "Thank you, Angel. I appreciate it."
"Don't mention it; seriously." Though he used a joking tone, she felt the weight behind his words. Whenever it came to his bosses, he seemed incapable of totally hiding his fear, but it was flattering for him to also be afraid on her behalf. The only other person he seemed to do that for was Charlie, which was a humbling realization.
"I won't, I promise." Satisfied, Angel just did two finger-guns at her and left the room, leaving her to her thoughts as she still had about thirty minutes before it was time to leave. Even so, she was done looking at her room. Meditation was a bust as all she could do was think about the day's events in an attempt to analyze and break down what happened, so perhaps getting out early was for the best before she lost her mind.
While riding around the city taking care of some business before it was time to pick up Eliza, Vox was finishing up his conversation on the phone.
"Look Val," he sighed, "don't play the intimidation card OR the emotional card."
"Aw, but that's what I do best, Voxy~" Valentino cooed on the other end of the line. Vox heard the telltale sound of a heavy beat in the background, telling him that his partner was already at the club, waiting patiently.
"I'm serious; just don't do it. It's not going to work on this girl; she's an absolute ice-queen when shit goes sideways. Let me handle the professional talk, OK? Just up the charm and treat her like one of your targets to rope into a contract, she eats that shit up."
"Should I pull her into the back and fuck her 'till she begs?"
Vox shivered and thought of how he'd prefer if Val did that with him. "No; if a large venue is enough to intimidate her, I'm fairly certain that'd kill our chances."
"I could be gentle~"
"No."
Making a sound of absolute disgust, Val growled and said, "Damn virgins; always ruinin' the fun. Fine, no sex, but this better work, Voxy. I want my number one cash-cow back and at his peak; this sober shit is starting to affect his performance, and I'm not losing money just so some spoiled princess bitch can play savior."
Vox exhaled, agreed, and hung up the phone. Ever since he started trying to win over Eliza, Valentino has been getting more and more insufferable the longer it took. It wasn't his fucking fault that his lover's favorite porn star was sick of his abusive shit, but the moth took his anger out on whoever happened to be close by.
Distracted by a ding, he took another look at his phone and smiled down at a text from his informant.
Curio (C.): She's heading out early. Looks tired; and tense.
Vox (V.): Hopefully she'll be more agreeable. And the Radio Fucker?
C.: Haven't seen him. Don't think he hung around after.
V.: Good. Keep an eye out for the bastard, and let me know if he tries anything weird.
C.: Yes, sir. But about Harve's debt...
Vox smiled and texted his assurances to the little rat demon, who sent a very happy looking emoji as a response. While the little shit didn't see or hear what happened, the princess and her girlfriend had loose lips whenever they thought they were alone, and Vox was informed immediately that something went down between Alastor and Eliza. Whatever it was, it wasn't pretty. After making arrangements with Val on the spot, he gave Eliza a call after giving her some extra time to calm down. It was easy enough to play the 'you never called back' card, but he couldn't believe his luck that this happened at all. With her help, she could shut down the hotel's operation by using the Radio Demon's actions to drive everyone off, and with the loss of probably several sponsors, the hotel would no longer be Angel's safe haven.
More importantly to him, however, Alastor would lose a potential new powerbase, or whatever he got from helping this strange pipe-dream the princess concocted. All because he apparently tried to eat the therapist. If people were hesitant about his involvement before, this will solidify their fear that the hotel is an untrustworthy farce of an experiment and nothing more.
He smiled; as long as he played the professional card and used the Radio Demon as a verbal punching bag, this deal would be in the bag. No sane person wants to stay in a place with someone who went out of their way to try and devour them, and moving on to better, safer prospects was a very competent choice for someone in her position.
It's foolproof.
"Driver," he called, cracking open the dark glass separator, "forget the mob meet; take me to the bank now. My guest is already waiting."
Author's Note:
Holy shit I got it done on time. Miracles happen, people!
