Chapter 34

Naughty

Walking through the streets, Alastor was already seeing signs that the dreaded Lust Day was approaching. Prostitutes were out in force with discounted services, and some of them didn't even bother to take their clients indoors to meet their needs. Thankfully he was well known here, which meant that no one propositioned him for a 'good time'. Still, just being in close proximity with them on a casual stroll left him on edge. Everyone else, however, started dressing in far more revealing attire, and it made it clear that he would have to stick to his beloved colony for his walks. A pro skirt flaunting their goods, disgusting as it is, is one thing, but for everyone to proudly go about so underdressed was the sign he needed to start preparations for his yearly hermitage.

He liked all the Pride flags on windows and doors though; they brought a much-needed expansion of colors to Hell's dark, dreary landscape, and he did enjoy his share of variety. He couldn't remember which one was his; someone told him once. It was a weird, scuttling little red-shelled sinner who desperately tried to be his friend. Another ace, apparently. The entire encounter was awkward, and the sinner was far too pushy; why would shared sexuality be enough to be friends? It's a start, sure, but not enough to make up for how very annoying the guy was. But hey, it all worked out in the end.

Alastor had never tasted a shellfish soulform before. It was a delectable first experience for him. He even thanked the obnoxious little snot, chancing upon him once after he regenerated, and had never been happier to see someone run in terror before he finished his first word. Ah, good times.

When he saw a pair of women getting it on near the front of an alleyway, he felt his irritation spike. That was to become the norm until this wretched holiday ended. Public displays of raunchy affection would line the streets, and he wouldn't be able to leave his tower without seeing things that made him ready to forget his rules and slaughter all within sight.

Then he caught sight of something else; a young man buying flowers. Despite the disgusting displays most in Hell were used to and enjoyed, there were still people who did things the decent way. That calmed his anger considerably; he could stomach a more charming, even romantic approach to the holiday. Far more than the explicit displays, at any rate.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, mostly to himself. "That reminds me!" Waltzing up to the flower stand with a flourish, he inquired about firegown lilies; a lovely red-orange flower with black stamen and bright green stalks and leaves. He always got one for his favorite, darling little housemaid, Niffty. Such an adorable little cyclops she was, with hands down the cutest giant eye he'd ever seen. Watching her gush over gifts and flowers always made him laugh. She was a fun one to get presents for.

Husk would receive his usual gift; a special tequila-rum beverage known as First Blush, imported from Lust. That, at least, he had already ordered. It was one of the cat's favorite drinks in all of Hell, aside from his whiskey of course. While not a man to get into the deeper spirit of Hell's holidays, Alastor always made sure to get his friends gifts, even if they were predictable. He had a themed gift for every holiday, usually something hard to get or otherwise quite expensive. Even if the present was the same every year, it was something they weren't likely to get themselves. Not a creative approach, certainly, but he liked to think that it was something for them to look forward to every year.

As expected, the stand didn't have a firegown lily on hand, but they did point him in the right direction. Normally people were stingy about sharing customers, but when the Radio Demon comes knocking, no one dares be the one to keep him from his goal.

Over the decades, Alastor had set up a wonderful network of teleport points throughout the West Point, including one that led to the hotel lobby that has been rather handy lately. Now it was time for him to venture into the more populated, centralized part of the sector. He typically preferred haunting the outskirts, as major cities tended to be at the heart of Hell's overpopulation problems, but the occasional visit made for a welcome change of scenery.

The moment he stepped out the other side of the portal, he was bombarded with large screens mounted on the sides of buildings, the smells of street food and a collection of debaucherous acts taking place, lost in the crowds. Far too noisy for his taste, not to mention the smothering presence of technology, but it would be easy to disappear here, as well as make someone else disappear should he feel peckish.

A brutal street brawl held a large crowd's attention, and he listened as people placed bets on the outcome as he passed. Noticing a speeding car making its way around them all at a rapid pace, he studied the situation for a moment. Judging from where he was standing, it was clear that the driver's best chance of actually making it through would be to veer left and take out the few closest to the sidewalk, meaning he would head directly for Alastor. Chuckling to himself, he had a wonderful idea to make himself feel more at home!

With a quick snap of his fingers, the unfortunate driver found himself- and his car- floating in the air for a moment before falling directly into the center of the crowd, crushing the fighters into bloody smears before a victor could be named. As he had hoped, the spectators flew into a frenzy; some to slaughter the driver for interrupting, some to get their money back, and many more just lashing out because they could.

"Ha!" Alastor laughed. "Cities can be so wonderful this time of year!" As he walked by alleys full of sinners getting their kicks, he refused to let repulsion ruin his newfound good mood. He was here to get his little darling a gift, and that's what he was going to do. Finding a ruined section full of burned, demolished wreckage, he knew he found the right place when he saw someone sifting through; a ragged looking goatish woman with dark-green fur and large amber eyes, searching as she obsessively brushed soot off of her small pink horns. "Pardon me, miss!"

She about jumped out of her fur upon hearing the familiar, filtered voice. "Oh, it's you Aa-a-a-alaa-astor!" she bleated, swallowing nervously. While never being threatened by him in the past, he came for flowers every few years or so around this time, and she's seen him do terrible things with his strange powers. Her boss hated whenever he came around, as he could haggle his way close to the bottom line with little effort. "What caa-an I do for you?"

Looking over the destruction, he asked, "Was this a fire-based disaster, dear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent!" he cheered. "I hope you found some of my usual order, then!"

Leave it to this man to look at a place where thousands suffered a painful, fiery death and think only of flowers. "Yes, sir."

"Then point me to your boss," he requested, happily. "I hope his stand isn't too far this time; last time was a killer, ha!"

She sweated as she remembered the genocide that took place the last time he visited. They had happened upon a gang-rape situation in an alley nearby, and even after a few decades in damnation she had never seen people torn apart like that. So much blood… and that horrifying laughter…

Thankfully her boss was stationed close by this time, as there weren't as many disasters this year as there had been then. Three fire tornadoes in a localized area of destruction had led to an absolute mad rush of looters, gatherers and other opportunistic parasites, but this year it was just a single meteor crashing into several buildings. Rather mild, but still enough to cause massive, fiery destruction, and thousands would be regenerating around the city in a few days.

When they rounded a corner, the large stand came into view. While not a flower stand per se, flowers were very much a part of his stock, as was anything else he could loot from disasters like this. As usual, the man himself wasn't getting his hands dirty; he employs others to sift through the dangerous rubble for him, and then appraises what they bring to him. His finder's fee is abysmal, but that hardly made him unique.

He was a rather boring looking sinner, too. Short with yellow-brown skin and moles on his face and arms, he honestly reminded Alastor of a potato. One that grew legs and arms and decided to swindle sinners out of their shirts. And whenever he saw him deal with women, he often found himself contemplating whether or not he tasted like one, too.

"Oh, Christ," the man whined under his breath, "not this asshole again…"

It took no time at all to talk the man down, and Alastor got the rare lily for a steal. However he paused after turning to walk away when the woman who brought him here started turning in her finds. When the wretched little sharper told her what he'd pay for it, Alastor's low buzz sounded and he flexed his claws. He didn't move away until the amount was satisfactory, and he deeply enjoyed hearing the obscenities the man muttered behind his back.

When he rounded a corner, he pricked his own palm with a claw. The blood quickly turned to black vapor and swirled around the flower, forming a dark, transparent field. It would preserve the lily until it's appointed hour, when Alastor would summon it and place it in the little housemaid's hair. It always made her so wonderfully giddy, and is one of the few things she willingly stands perfectly still for.

"Waa-a-ait!" Alastor looked back to see the woman chasing him down, just rounding the corner he had taken. When she caught up, he turned half-way to address her.

"And what can I do for you, my dear?" he asked in his usual chipper tone.

"I just wanted to thaa-a-ank you!" she bleated softly, making sure her boss wasn't listening behind her. "I don't know why you did it aa-and I aa-a-ain't askin', but thank you so much!"

"Not at all, sweetheart!" he cheered. "Now be on your way; I'm sure you have much to-"

She heard it, that sound that wasn't so distant. A muffled, feminine cry, and a man's sadistic laugh. Her face fell as Alastor's head snapped to the side far too quickly. That look, that terrifying look that she had seen only a few short years ago. His eyes darkened as an unnatural shadow fell on his face.

"Goodbye."

Not bothering to wait for a response (not that she got one), she turned and ran as fast as her hooves could carry her. His growl followed her as she flew around the corner. She covered her ears as an ugly scream rang over the wreckage. She didn't want to hear it. Not the screams, not the guttural cries of sinners being butchered, not the fearful shriek of the victim he saved as she ran in terror…

But most of all, she couldn't hear that laugh.


Damn them.

Vaggie stomped through the halls, fuming as she continued trying to brush sequins and glitter off of her face and out of her hair. When she opened the broom closet to get the mop for Niffty (who was busy making breakfast and accidentally spilled some flour), she opened the door to an explosion of bright light, loud pops and an excessive amount of red and pink dust. That poor cyclops was going to have a fit about the mess that was made of the cleaning supplies, but Vaggie was busy contemplating the murder of whoever set that trap.

And she had an idea who to look for first.

When she knocked on Angel's door, there was no answer. She even told him he'd be hitting the bricks if he didn't open up, but there was nothing. Despite the idea of him hiding out somewhere making sense, it was fairly early in the morning and he always sleeps in until noon or so. Where is he?

It didn't take long to find him, and in doing so she found yet another headache; Fizzarolli. Specifically, she caught him calling for a game of naked twister in the stage room where Angel, Lakavi and Paressu were playing under his perverted gaze.

Upon seeing Vaggie enter the room, Angel laughed so hard that he fell off the mat, taking the other two entangled, giggling sinners with him. "H-hey Vags, ya gotta new look goin'?"

She exploded into a tirade of furious Spanish, rushing in to grab Fizz by the cap-and-bells and Angel by his ear. Paressu tried to slip away quietly, but when her eye fell on him, he just watched as everything around her darkened except that single eye. Even Lakavi, who was about to go off on the manager, shut up when that happened. "Don't think I'll be forgetting you idiots."

Even the rowdiest of sinners knows when they're dismissed, so they grabbed their stuff and hauled ass.

The next thing Charlie knew, there was a spider and a jester shoved into her office in the middle of organizing a list of holiday activities for the guests to enjoy, followed by an angry moth covered in red and pink glitter. "Do… do I even want to know?"

She smacked Angel hard upside the head. "Gilipollas here decided to booby-trap the fucking broom closet with a god-damned glitter-bomb!"

"If it was a booby-trap, it'd be fulla bras," Angel argued, playfully. "And I promise ya, toots: Those are somewhere else."

"Te voy a matar…" When she turned to Fizz, he quickly dodged the head-smack with a smug grin… but not her grabbing his cap and throwing his head to the ground, stomping on him to keep him still. "And this freak was playing naked twister with the guests in the stage room"

"Hosting naked twister, thank you very much," he snarked, earning another dent from her heel.

"Wait a sec," Charlie began, putting down her papers with a worried expression. "Angel, did you steal one of my bras?"

He gave her a cat-like grin. "Maybe…"

"So that's why I couldn't find the red one!" Charlie realized out loud. Then she asked in a much more shrill tone, "Did you raid everyone's underwear?!"

"Everyone but the shrink," he purred. "Turns out she ain't got any! Not even panties! Lady goes total commando."

Vaggie, who was already privy to this, turned away with a blush while Fizz swooned a little. "Never would have guessed. I can't even see her tits through her shirts!"

Angel nodded. "I know, right?"

"Wait…" Vaggie said, her face falling as she realized something. "If you raided everyone's bras… where did you put them all?"

The next thing they knew, they heard a crash followed by a shrill, metallic shriek. Fizz turned to the spider, eyes wide with hope and wonder. "Did you..?"

"Totally did."

When they heard an inhuman, animalistic howl, Fizz gave Angel a smug look as the spider's face fell. "Nice knowin' ya."

"Shit, lemme out!" He whispered in a panic, making a break for the door. When shadows started pouring inside from underneath, he jumped backwards. "Nevermind!"

He never even had a chance to try for the window as tendrils grabbed his legs and dragged him down to the floor, holding him down as an angry wendigo materialized just inside the door. "You wretched little-"

When the spider moaned, he paused. "Oh, Al, ya know how ta treat a boy, dontcha~"

"Al, calm down," Charlie scolded. "I know he's pranking everyone, but-"

"Stuffing my shelves with women's undergarments is unforgivable!" He hissed, walking forward as his neck clicked with every predatory head movement. When Fizz started laughing, he clocked the metal trash-heap in the mouth with his microphone without even turning his head, leaving him stunned and glitching on the floor.

As the overlord approached, the shadows lifted Angel up, binding his arms and legs together and flipping him over to face his doom. Angel smirked through a rush of panic and taunted him further. "Ya gotta thing for hentai, Smiles? I hope ya know how ta use these. Lotta holes ta choose from!"

Alastor's head twitched as his eyes seemed to glitch out for a moment. Charlie stepped between them with a determined glare. "Stop it now or you'll both be punished!"

"You're free to try," Alastor teased, turning his attention back to his quarry. "He is mine!"

"Kinky and possessive?" Angel cooed. "Oh Al, you make me feel so wanted."

"I didn't know he had it in him," Fizz added with a sneer, barely able to lift his head off the floor.

"Do not-"

"ANGEL!"

The booming, feminine voice made them all pause as, for a moment, only Alastor recognized it. No one else had ever been on the receiving end of that wrathful tone but him, when he almost took a bite out of…

"¡Tienes que estar bromeando!" Vaggie groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "How many people did you prank?!"

Angel just grinned broadly. "Yes."

When Eliza burst through the door with dark scales, flared wings and burning inverted eyes, Alastor just stared for a moment before quickly getting out of her way. Vaggie gave him a sideways, questioning glance. "I thought he was all yours?"

"I am not a man to turn down a chance for entertainment," he grinned eagerly. Then, with a mischievous smirk he added, "If you wish to be the one to intervene, please be my guest." He wasn't going to mention the fact that having already been tossed on his ass by those wings made for an excellent learning experience. The lesson: if necessary, fight her from a safe distance. Close quarters leads to pain.

Vaggie just stared for a moment before stating, "Nah, that cabrón has it coming."

"Vaggie!" Charlie whined. "You're not helping!"

"Consider this the tough love treatment," Vaggie droned. "Besides, she won't kill him, unlike shit-lord here."

"How dare you break into my patient files!"

Everyone's face fell; except for Alastor's, who's smug grin grated on everyone as he stated pleasantly, "He's dead."

Vaggie just face-palmed. "Goddammit, Angel!"

"N-now hold on," Angel whined as Eliza's wings took hold of his shoulders, "I didn't read 'em or anythin', I swear!"

"Then why'd you get into her stuff?" Vaggie asked, disbelievingly.

"I just replaced everyone's paperwork with my collection of creepy fan letters!"

Stunned silence.

Vaggie grabbed her mouth to stop herself from heaving right then and there, and even Charlie looked a little green.

"Good GOD!" Fizz laughed from the floor, rolling around merrily before trying to rise to his feet again.

"That is too far," Vaggie rasped, about ready to run to the nearest trash can.

"Oh, sure, everyone's underwear falling on my head is forgivable…" Alastor grumbled.

"You haven't read those letters."

"Where did you put everything?" Eliza demanded. Angel freaked as his fur started to pale under a coating of frost.

"It's all under the couch cushions! Everything's still together, promise!"

"It better be, or I'll be back."

"I'll make sure he doesn't run off, my dear," Alastor promised with a creepy smile, black shadows tightening around Angel for emphasis.

"I'm afraid you're doomed to disappointment, Smiles," Angel cooed as Eliza left to find all of her files. "They're all still organized an' everythin'. She ain't comin' back."

"So you say."

"Hey, I'm just playin' pranks!" he defended. "Even I ain't dumb enough to fuck up her papers an' shit!"

"Anyways," Vaggie interrupted, turning to Charlie while holding her head as a headache threatened to start, "what are we gonna do about this, hon? One day and he's already gone too fucking far."

Angel just pouted, and as time went on with Charlie and Vaggie discussing how to move forward, Alastor became bored as he realized Eliza was, indeed, not coming back. Such a shame; he wanted to see her rip his arms from their sockets. Oh well.

No longer in the mood for carnage, he sighed and let his shadows unceremoniously drop the obnoxious arachnid on his ass. Turning on his heel, he twirled his microphone before vanishing, once again taking Fizz out just as he had succeeded at rising to his feet.

Now was as good a time as any to bring up when to try the pheromone exposure experiment. Not to mention voicing his disappointment in Angel Dust's continued, un-maimed existence.

Materializing on the second floor, he stopped outside of the therapy room and hesitated, unsure which door to knock on. It was likely that she would be giving all of her papers a thorough read-through, so he chose the therapy door. "Is everything in order, my dear? I would like to speak with you."

Success. "Oh, yes, everything's fine. Come on in; I have most of it sorted and filed away already."

Opening the door, he was excited that she finally felt comfortable enough to be alone with him again. Still, he kept his distance just in case. "You work quite quickly, then! A shame, though; that means they were, indeed, still well organized. Pity, I was so hoping for a show." He glanced over at her desk and noticed that there were still many papers (albeit tidy and organized) sitting out. "I thought they were mostly filed?" He took a curious step closer, wondering if maybe he could glean something off the top from afar before she noticed, as she was facing away from him.

"These aren't part of my paperwork."

Alastor immediately dismissed the thought and instead took a step away, facing the couches and deciding it was best not to contemplate what he might have seen if he had succeeded. Then he realized something. "Wait, you… organized his fan mail?"

"I made columns based on my diagnoses of the authors." She pointed to each pile in sequence as she listed them off. "Daddy issues, commitment issues, toilet-based fetishes, pain-based fetishes, arachnophobic fans, closet gay people…" she pointed to the smallest column, "closet straight people- I didn't even know that was a thing-," then she pointed at the tallest column, which was also the last, "and foot fetishes. Lots and LOTS of requests to take off his boots."

'No wonder Vagatha looked so sick,' Alastor thought. Then he grinned wickedly as another thought crossed his mind. "Isn't telling me this violating some of your professional regulations?"

After putting the final papers away, she closed her filing cabinet and turned to face him. "They were not brought to me in therapy, and he messed with my files. As far as I'm concerned, they're fair game."

Alastor then had a terrible, naughty idea, but it got pushed to the backburner in favor of the real reason he came here. "Well then, if you're mostly finished, perhaps we could discuss moving forward with dealing with the pheromone issue?"

Eliza suddenly smiled, and he was surprised by how excited she looked. "The sooner the better! I know the whole situation was rather, well… unpleasant, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder why everything happened the way it did. I'm actually rather excited to study it!"

Alastor tilted his head curiously. "Oh? And where did all this newfound enthusiasm come from, I wonder?"

Looking a tad embarrassed, Eliza cleared her throat. "Am I coming off too strong, or-"

"Not at all," he interrupted, waving off her uncertainty. "I'm simply surprised. After all, you voiced some concerns about this idea in the beginning."

"I know, but the more I think about it, the more questions I have!"

Alastor watched as the young woman's excitement renewed. It surprised him, sometimes, how someone so refined could hide such a childish side. "Such as?"

"Well, why try to eat me, for example," she began. The next thing Alastor knew, he was being subjected to a lecture on what a pheromone is and the purpose it serves. It's rare for her to show how excitable she really is. He's only really seen it twice; the first day they met, when she spoke of her belief in people choosing for themselves, and when she found out he could learn about people through their writing.

Then his train of thought was broken by a somewhat disturbing theory. "Then there's serial killer psychology, which adds a slightly different set of options altogether."

"Oh?" Alastor couldn't help but feel some of his own excitement diminish slightly as he realized he might not like where this is going. "And what do my past exploits have to do with this, my dear?"

"There have been studies into the differences between a serial killer and a common murderer," she informed him. "Whereas most murderers are opportunistic and indiscriminate, serial killers follow a more obsessive, ritualistic style. The same type of victim, same method of murder, same way of disposing the bodies, a consistent timeline… They follow a specific pattern to a T, and it was studied in order to make such killers easier to find before they kill too many people."

Perhaps he was being optimistic, but he decided to push for her to continue despite a rising sense of irritation. "Forgive me, but I fail to see how any of this applies."

"Well, if I may?" She asked, gesturing to him.

He tensed, but gave a single nod.

"You've never had sex before, correct?"

Definitely not a good direction, but he nodded once more.

"People are able to train their bodies to experience sexual gratification in specific ways by repeated experiences," she continued, unfazed by his sudden change in demeanor. "A serial killer's selectiveness when choosing a victim isn't so different from having a sexual preference, and the act of murder releases a chemical cocktail in the brain that's comparable to sexual gratification-"

"It is NOT sexual!"

She paused at his tone. She heard the voice; raspy and angry and downright demonic, but the smile didn't move. "Perhaps I misspoke. Let me try again; it may not be a sexual act, but the pleasure a serial killer feels when killing is still comparable to the pleasure someone who enjoys sex feels at climax. As such, the serial killer's first victim gives them such a feeling of ecstacy that they seek to repeat the process in the hopes of feeling it again. That's also how they tend to get caught; diminishing returns eventually makes it to where they change the formula in an attempt to achieve that same feeling again, either by breaking their set timeline or changing their methods."

Then it clicked; the point she was getting at. "And I've been the way I am for decades."

"Exactly!" She answered. "So it's incredibly likely that you're conditioned to kill to experience that sort of gratification."

Her eyes were shining at the thought of him understanding, and his ears flattened as, for the first time in a while, he was the one that felt insulted. "Are you saying I only find pleasure in murder?"

She blinked in confusion. "…No, that's not what I-"

"I assure you my dear, that is not the case," he hissed. "I find pleasure in many of the finer things: good food and drink, tasteful music, natural beauty and good company. There are many things I enjoy just as much, if not more."

"I'm not saying you don't," she stated, looking rather surprised by his interpretation of her words. "But we're talking about the pheromone, not how you choose to spend your time. I don't doubt that you do more than maim and murder, but the pheromone didn't make you find me beautiful or ask me to cook for you; you tried to eat me! So it's possible that cannibalism is…" When she heard that low-frequency buzz that signified his growing irritation, she just sighed defeatedly. "Nevermind, apparently I can't explain it in a way that doesn't offend you."

Alastor wasn't one to feel guilt often, but when he saw the bright, excited light in her eyes fade, he felt a twinge of it. "Perhaps I… jumped to conclusions," he conceded after a tense, silent moment. "To be fair, I've recently spoken with a most obnoxious arachnid on the matter, and he suggested that it is some sort of… Oh, what was the word? Gink? Kink? Kink, I believe. I have never thought of killing or eating others in such a light, and I am very unwilling to do so."

"I understand, but that's not what I mean at all," she informed him, quietly. Finally, she just decided to give up. She wasn't sure how else to explain it and, honestly, she quickly lost the will to try.

"Then I may simply need to accept that I don't understand," he stated, returning to his usual cheer. "But if you say you meant no offense, then I believe you. Come now, my dear; cheer up! It's so nice to see you smiling, especially about something like this. Don't let me ruin the mood!"

When she went quiet for a moment, Eliza was surprised by a familiar sound; a dial turning. Alastor's indicator that the subject was about to change was something of a relief at that moment, because no matter what the overlord said, her enthusiasm was thoroughly stomped out for the day. "I take it there was something else you wanted to talk about?"

"You've kept me in suspense long enough, my dear," he teased, turning and sitting down on the patient's couch. Crossing his legs at the knees, he grinned excitedly. "Tell me about my song and, more importantly, what it had to do with turning down my rival."

At first she just stared at him in disbelief before finally shaking her head with a huff. She walked over to her couch and sat across from him, meeting his eager gaze with her tired, uncertain one. Unsure why, when she looked into his eyes and saw just how excited he was, she decided she wanted to mess with him. Maybe because he made her ornery. "Because you're lonely."

Tilting his head, he could only blink for a moment as he processed a statement that was far shorter and simpler than he expected. "I don't follow."

"You're lonely," she stated again. Maybe it was sadistic for her to enjoy his mounting frustration from her lack of explanation, but considering he just ruined her fun, she decided to consider it justified.

He must have picked up on it, because he cocked an eyebrow as his smile shrank slightly. "Are you really disinclined to elaborate?"

She just held his gaze with her calm, infuriating one. "Maybe."

Oh, she was going to make him work for this. "Such a wicked dame you are when you're angry," he taunted. "I wait all this time only to be behind the eight ball at the final hour? How cruel!" Leaning forward, he added with a slight sneer, "Are you hoping I'll beg? If so, I should make you aware that I am very accustomed to leaving women wanting."

The tiny, lopsided tug at her lips made him realize that she was enjoying this far more than she was letting on. "If you won't, I'm not sure which of us will be wanting more."

A dark chuckle bubbled out of him as he narrowed his eyes. Well, if she's going to play hard ball, then maybe it's time he played a little naughty. To her great surprise, he tilted his head down and stared at her with half-lidded eyes, his grin widening. In a deeper tone lacking his filter, he murmured, "I guess that depends on what you want." The way her entire face flushed black was absolutely delicious.

At first, Eliza was speechless at his flirtatious answer. Then she saw it; the mischievous spark in his eyes. He was toying with her. "That… is not how I expected you to respond." She fanned herself as the heat in her cheeks became insufferable. "Well played."

"I do what works," he purred, his gaze sadistically coy as he watched her calm herself. "It seems surprisingly effective on you, darling."

She hadn't even had time to compose herself before she was blushing again. Oh, it was so wrong for him to be able to pull that seductive tone. It was downright sultry. Vapors appeared off her scales as she became uncomfortably hot, and she worried that she'd release that pheromone if she wasn't careful. She hadn't accounted for the fact that he had decades of experience charming women. He could have anyone eating out of the palm of his hand if he wanted, and he knew it.

He soaked in his victory as she heaved an exasperated sigh. He noted a slight tingle in his nose, but there was no aroma, nor was he losing control. Something to keep in mind. "I didn't want to make it worse."

His flirtatious expression dropped in surprise. "Make what worse?"

"You revel in attention, both from your fans and from anyone you meet. Even though you trapped everyone and made them dance that night, it was… something, and you enjoyed it so much. And I was worried that, by announcing that you attacked me, it might alienate you from your fans by denting your reputation. I thought you might be more alone than ever, and it bothered me."

Now it was his turn to be speechless. She was worried about him? In spite of everything that happened? "I don't know how much damage your little testimony would have done, but doubt can be a very dangerous, even lethal weapon. My fans are quite loyal, but even I'm not sure what they'd do if I turned my back on my own rules."

"From what I saw at the colony the other day, I think you would have been fine. Honestly I wonder if I worried for nothing."

His eyes narrowed for a moment. "What happened at the colony?" When she looked away, he realized quickly that something was wrong and his anger spiked. "What. Happened?"

"I wasn't welcome in the colony anymore, apparently."

His lowest frequency sounded as he clenched his jaw. "That will be rectified."

"Rosie's already working on it," she told him, though her demeanor seemed somewhat down. "They apparently knew about me seeing Vox, but not the rest. Rosie found me and took me to her Emporium for the day before having someone drive me back here."

Calming down, he couldn't help but feel at ease. "If Rosie's taking care of it, rest assured that it won't be a problem any longer. No one will question her demands."

For a brief moment she had a rare expression on her face; haunted and disturbed. "Yes, I got a front row seat as to why that is. Her powers are something!"

"Ha! I doubt you saw the extent of them. Never let it be said that Rosie is incapable of protecting all that is hers. Well, I'm sorry for your sub-par reception by the colonists. Perhaps I could accompany you on your next visit! It would solidify your position as a welcome guest."

"It certainly wouldn't hurt," she agreed.

"Now, I have one more question about my song. Why did you run away at the end? I was so very disappointed to see that you had disappeared."

Blushing once more, she decisively looked away, clearing her throat as her discomfort returned with a vengeance. "I may have enjoyed the more sadistic tone you ended with a little too much."

"Is that so? So you ran away because you..?"

"Needed a very cold shower."

"Ha!" Alastor barked. Deciding that his curiosity was satisfied, it felt like the perfect time to bring up his naughty idea from before. "Well my dear, if you are able to appreciate a quality dose of sadism, then perhaps you'd be willing to entertain an idea for how to torment Angel Dust? Since I can't seem to punish the man my way…"

Later that day, when Angel Dust found Fizzarolli reading his creepy fan letters like poetry for all the guests to laugh at in the hotel lobby, he took them out of the jester's hands and stomped off, grumbling as everyone laughed at him. "Game. On."


Author's Note:

I've always felt that a man who can charm women with such little effort (and enjoys it) would be able to flirt his way to success. Plus, the voice actor who plays Alastor did say "Darling" in a seductive way in a video, and sweet mercy it sounds so sexy.

I'm actually considering featuring some really awesome songs that have been written by fans of the pilot for the characters, including the song "Insane" which was written and sung by Alastor's singing voice actor. Not sure how, but I will find a way if it's possible!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!