Chapter 37
Losing Control
Knock knock knock!
Nothing.
Knock knock knock!
Still nothing.
Angel sighed; he knew it was a long shot. After the baking session yesterday, the resident red-clad overlord seemed to abandon ship. Angel wasn't sure if he'd be back, but Husk told him that the man still hasn't given out his usual yearly gifts, so it was possible that he would pop up eventually. Either that or he'd just have his shadow stealth them into their respective rooms, though apparently Niffty's gift was usually given in person. Oh well, maybe he'd just shadow the little maid around until Alastor showed up, assuming he did so while Angel wasn't at work.
Feeling exasperated, he just slumped and sauntered off in a huff. Earlier that morning he learned that, for some reason, the shrink wasn't able to enter his room anymore. Instead, she recruited Erpa to assist in a prank, as the pickpocket was easily able to replace the makeup powder he carried everywhere with a case of itching powder. Apparently it was revenge for getting squirted in the eye when she inadvertently intercepted the fake pen.
That shrink had a god-damned silver tongue if she was somehow able to get that moody bitch to help out. For the first time in his existence, he was forced to admit defeat, at least as far as their personal prank war was concerned. She kept getting outside assistance with her pranks, and he wasn't sure how to beat her in this game if she had everyone in her pocket. How was he supposed to keep an eye out for everyone in the hotel? It just wasn't possible.
So, to cheer himself up, he decided to check out everyone's flags on their doors. Bubbles and Vags have the Bisexual and Lesbian flags, respectively. Husk hung a pansexual flag on his doorknob above the "Do Not Disturb" sign, Niffty had a black and white striped banner for being straight, and both Al and Eliza had, well…
They didn't decorate their doors at all. But he noticed this early on, because while everyone else seemed to put their flags up before Pride Week officially started, the two of them didn't bother. So, on the off chance that they just didn't have flags of their own, he decided to make them each one! Well, he made Alastor one, anyway. The shrink was a little tougher, because he still wasn't sure what her sexuality even was. She has only really had a thing for Al, and even though she dated Vox she seemed to have an easy enough time dropping him on his ass. As such, he was leaning towards Demisexual, but he didn't want to make it just to find out he pegged her wrong.
At first, he honestly considered not bothering, but he couldn't help it. When he fell to Hell, he thought being used for sex was all he could hope for. A lifetime of being condemned left its mark; he had no self value. Hell, he still didn't. But the first time Pride Week was started, it was something of a revelation. It was not only OK to be gay, but it was celebrated! Then other sexualities started being recognized. Homosexuals weren't the only ones anymore; pansexuals, demisexuals, and of course, asexuals, like Alastor. He wasn't really sure if the guy celebrated much of anything, but he was alive during a time even before Angel's, and he couldn't imagine the guy hadn't been judged for what he was. Even if it turned out the guy didn't give a fuck, which he didn't about most things, he wanted to at least give him a flag even if he had one already or just didn't care enough to get one for himself.
He just hoped the guy didn't laugh in his face; he didn't seem like the sentimental type. But it meant a lot to Angel. The first time it seemed like it might be OK to be the way he is felt amazing, and he wanted to share a little of it. If anyone asked, however, he did it to bring some variety to Alastor's fetish for red, not to be some emotional little snot.
"Can I take a message?"
Angel froze. He felt like he'd heard that voice before, but he couldn't place it. "Who the fuck..?"
"Over here!" The spider turned and saw Alastor's microphone propped up against the wall, a large eye open and staring directly at him. "Alastor can't come to the door right now, but I can take a message!"
"Oh, uh, OK." Angel walked back over to stand in front of the sentient mic. In all honesty, he forgot the fucking thing could talk. "Um, I just wanted ta give 'im somethin'. That cool?"
"Well golly, that's just swell!" the microphone cheered, and Angel heard a stock 'Aww!' in the background. Holy shit, the mic could do it too?!
"So, do I just leave it with you, or do I gotta wait for the guy ta come back?"
When Angel pulled out the flag and held it out, the sound of stock applause echoed around him. "Oh my, how thoughtful! I'm sure he'll be thrilled! I'll let him know you're holding something special for him; give it to him whenever he drops by!"
"Heh, sure," Angel chuckled. "Hey, ya gotta name?"
"Call me Olly!" he told the spider, gleefully.
"Alright, Olly," Angel purred with a wicked smirk, "I gotta question for ya."
The top of his eye flattened completely. "I am forbidden to describe in any way any part of Alastor's anatomy."
Angel just slumped. "Goddamn figures he warned ya. Fuckin' sexy-ass bastard…"
"My, you are quite the colorful fellow!" Olly chuckled. "I hope you continue to entertain him; he could use more real laughter!"
Angel cocked an eyebrow. "Whatcha talkin' about? Guy laughs all the fuckin' time, usually every time someone fucks up."
The eye widened as Olly realized he almost said too much. Luckily he wasn't stuck sharing every memory like Alastor's shadow. "One of the many funny things in the world, haha! Anyway, I'll be sure to tell him he has gifts from friends!"
The spider gave a hollow laugh. "Friends, ha! Good one."
It surprised Angel how well Olly showed emotion, because that one eye looked so very confused. "Aren't you? Why else do you have a gift for him?"
"Shits and giggles, mainly," he shrugged with a grin. "Guy seems pretty set on the celibate life; may as well get a flag for it!"
"Ah… Well, I'll let him know regardless. Have a magnificent day, my good man!"
When the microphone vanished into nothingness, Angel's smile fell into a thin, flat line. Friends…
Yea, as if Alastor would be friends with a whore. He started to wonder if the flag was a dumb gift, after all. Well, he still wanted to give it to him, and if he mocked him for it, he could play it off as some store-bought piece of crap and toss it in his face.
Even if it was hand-knit.
"There you are, Niffty darling!" Alastor greeted, appearing in the lobby with no warning and scaring the shit out of Curio, who jumped two feet into the air before booking it for the door. Harve glared at Alastor before slowly following his friend, but the wendigo didn't acknowledge either of them as he approached the excited little maid. Husk watched from the bar where Eliza was talking with Paressu about some sort of garden idea, whatever that was about.
"Hi Al!" Niffty greeted, stopping right in front of him. It was dusting time and she was bouncing endlessly; the corners of the lobby were just filthy! "Is it gift time? Is it? IS IT?!"
He chuckled as she zoomed around him once in a circle, bouncing on the balls of her tiny feet. "It is indeed, my dear! Now, hold still…"
Hearing something about a gift, Eliza turned to see what was going on. Didn't Alastor hate this upcoming holiday? She was surprised he gave out gifts in spite of it. But what was more surprising was the gift itself; a lily. When he summoned it, it was in some sort of dark field that he willed away, letting it fall into his hand. From there, he bent down impossibly low and put the flower in the cyclops' hair, making her squeal with joy before darting off to return to dusting.
"Wait a second," Eliza mused, watching the interaction curiously.
Alastor's head turned quickly to the side with a wide grin. "Is something the matter?"
"Rosie told me flowers die when you touch them," she stated, "but the petals didn't even turn brown!"
Alastor's smile twitched. While not an important detail, he didn't like the idea of Rosie possibly giving away his secrets. Perhaps he needed to have a word with her about watching what she tells this woman. "Most do, certainly! Heaven knows how long it's been since I've had a rose on my lapel; even others can't seem to place it without it wilting on contact, ha! But flowers born of disaster and ruin seem to be more resistant to me."
"'Flowers born of disaster?' What do you mean?"
As Alastor explained what kind of disasters allow a Firegown Lily to grow, Angel nearly tripped over himself on the mezzanine doing a double take. Shit, there he was! Unsure if the guy was about to vanish to who-knows-where in a second, he yelled down, "Hey, Smiles! Don't go anywhere; I got somethin' for ya!"
As Angel made a break for his room to grab the gift he literally just put away, Alastor tilted his head curiously. Olly mentioned something about a gift, but nothing about what to expect. Considering who it was from and the holiday that was rapidly approaching, he felt a little nervous. If this was some sort of sexual gag gift…
When the arachnid re-emerged from his room, he booked it down the stairs, flag in hand. Part of him wouldn't put it past Alastor to disappear just to spite him, and he would have just dropped down from the mezzanine if he weren't certain he'd break his boots.
When Angel finally reached the curious wendigo, he held out the gift with a big smile. "Not sure if ya got one o' these already, but here ya go!"
Slowly, the overlord took the cloth and opened it up, and after a moment it clicked what he was holding. The asexuality flag! It was a little disappointing that it was rather colorless compared to the other flags, but…
The filter on his voice dropped away briefly as he muttered, "Thank you." Then, clearing his throat, the filter returned as he added, "I don't really have anywhere to display this, except perhaps the door to my office…"
"Dontcha live in a radio tower somewhere?" Angel asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I do," he confirmed, "but I'm afraid it's rather secluded. It seems a shame to hang it there where no one will see it; it's quite well made!"
"Thanks; made it myself!" Angel boasted, grinning from ear to ear.
"Truly?" Alastor took another look at the flag. It would appear that the young man had a surprising set of skills. Cooking and knitting… He watched with some relief as Eliza walked back to the bar to speak with one of the guests, leaving the two to speak privately. A good thing, considering the incoming topic. "It would seem your mother passed on multiple skills."
"Yea, she loved this sorta thing," Angel confirmed in a reminiscent tone. "Said the best gifts are the ones made by hand."
"Hmm… While I took to cooking, there are many of the more feminine skills that didn't interest me. I can repair tears, patch holes and sew buttons, but that's the entirety of my ability I'm afraid."
"Eh, neva too late ta learn!" With a laugh, Angel was about to punch him in the shoulder before quickly realizing he was probably going to die or at least be down one limb, so he chose instead to pull his arm back and give the man a couple finger-guns. "Hope ya find a good spot for it!"
"Yes, well, I must admit I feel somewhat underprepared," he admitted, his eyes narrowing slightly. "While my dear little minions are easy to find gifts for, I'm afraid I don't know your tastes."
"Oh, you know my tastes better than ya think, cutie," Angel purred with a wink.
Alastor gave an annoyed groan. "And just like that, the unnecessary guilt is vanquished! Thank you, Angel, your unwanted flirting does wonders."
"No one's guilty with me, handsome! I got all kinds o' wonders tucked away."
"And tucked away they shall stay, ha!"
"Only 'til you're ready, babe." He blew the man a kiss before turning to look at Eliza. "Outta curiosity, any thoughts on the shrink? I can't seem ta peg her preference, and I'm usually really good at this shit."
"I recommend asking," Alastor suggested in a dismissive tone. "I bear no curiosity for the topic."
"Ugh, that's no fuckin' fun," Angel moped. "She doesn't really flirt an' she ain't much for touchin', but she likes dirty jokes, watchin' pole dancin' and doesn't mind talkin' 'bout that kind o' shit. She's like you if ya weren't all grossed out by sex."
Alastor paused. "She… has a problem with being touched? I've never seen her so much as flinch when others touch her."
"Yea, Bubbles dared 'er ta hug everyone in Truth or Dare. Shoulda seen 'er clam up at first. Fer some reason she gets really nervous wit' me now, too."
When he heard a clicking noise, he stared side-long at Alastor, who tilted his head with an unreadable expression. "And why would that be?"
"Well, we're kinda borderin' the friend zone right now, so probably makes it weird. It's why hookers don't kiss an' shit; too personal, ya know? Just a service, not a relationship. Makin' it personal when yer payin' for it gets all kinds of awkward, an' let's be honest; the shrink gets really weird about emotions sometimes."
"A sensible approach to your profession, I suppose," Alastor muttered, more to himself than anything. "Still, that would explain much. After all, she doesn't like personal feelings infiltrating her work."
"Not sure it's because I'm a client," he said in a sly tone, glancing at Alastor mischievously. "After all, she doesn't let you touch her at all, and you ain't involved in her 'work'. Least not accordin' ta her."
"That is a completely unrelated circumstance," Alastor stated matter-of-factly.
"So she says…" Angel muttered cheekily.
Alastor considered him for a moment with narrowed eyes before looking over at her. He kept his tone upbeat and certain despite the doubt he suddenly felt. "Yes, so she says."
"Anyway, ya learn somethin' about 'er preference, lemme know an' I'll-"
Hoooonk!
Angel's expression fell as, for a moment, Alastor witnessed a strong combination of surprise and terror. The spider recovered quickly, though, and his trademark swagger returned with a vengeance. "Welp, time ta get ta work. I… don't think I'll be back for a while. Days, probably, so just… Let Charlie know for me, yea?"
"If I see her, I will make sure she's informed."
"Thanks." When he reached the door, he turned with a mischievous grin, though it didn't reach his ears. "Later, bitches! Holiday fun awaits!"
Alastor got a good view of the limo that sat just outside the door: red with sharp edges, dark tinted windows and a white heart on the hood.
"Hmm… That simply won't do," Alastor murmured, quietly. After a moment of consideration, he pricked his palm, letting vapors escape through his fingers.
"Hey, Daddy," Angel simpered when the door opened.
"Angel Cakes," Valentino crooned from inside, pink smoke trickling out and obscuring him from view. The spider gulped. "Get inside; you've gotta lotta money ta make up for."
"You'll only get the best," he promised, crawling into the limo on his hands and knees with his most convincing, lustful expression. "Just like always."
Valentino grabbed his chin with a sneer. "I betta, baby." As soon as the door closed, tires screeched as the driver went to take off.
Smoke rose up from under the car as they failed to move.
"The fuck?" Valentino snarled.
"I-I don't know, sir!" The driver whimpered over the com. "We're stuck on somethin', I think."
"I don't pay ya ta think, I pay ya ta drive! Get out there and fix it, NOW!"
"Y-yes sir!" They heard a car door slam as the driver did as he was told. "What the, there's nothin' even-" not a moment later they heard the beginnings of a scream that was quickly cut short, and the sound of splatter.
Angel stopped all flirtatious advances as Valentino went to open the door to see what was going on, but it wouldn't open. Then, as the overlord's temper started to boil over, the glass separator between them and the front seats lowered slightly, black vapors trickling over. The spider immediately laid flat across the seat; he knew what that was and wanted nothing more than to become one with the leather.
"Valentinoooo~" a voice hissed over the radio. "You have some nerve showing up in person after what you pulled…"
"Goddammit," the pimp spat, "I just came to collect my property."
"Send someone else in the future," the voice demanded. "This is your only warning; keep your distance!"
Angel freaked when a small, fugly-looking shadow looked over the separator with wide, lifeless eyes and a mad smile. Its features looked stitched on, like a voodoo doll come to life. Oh God, was Al going to..?
"See that he is returned to his studio in one piece… this time."
The shadow turned the key in the ignition and took off. While Angel was pretty sure Alastor was serious about keeping them alive, he silently enjoyed every second of Valentino's fear and panic as he wasn't nearly as certain as the porn star. To call the shadow's driving "erratic" is to call Niffty "mildly neurotic."
If he wasn't certain Valentino would stick him in a snuff film for it, Angel would have thrown all six arms in the air like they were on a roller coaster. Oh if only Alastor liked sex, he'd blow him for free just for watching his boss lose control.
Back at the hotel, Alastor's smile was stretched thin as he growled, his radio static buzzing angrily in the air. How dare that man show his face around here? He hoped this was a satisfactory example of his 'welcome' at the hotel. If Angel hadn't been in the vehicle with him, he would have ordered his shadow to run that car straight over the nearest overpass to crash into the traffic beneath. Or just have it crash into porn studios itself. Unlikely to kill Valentino, but very likely to require expensive repairs.
He wasn't sure which would cause more damage: injury to the man himself, or costing him money. Probably money.
He turned to walk away, preparing to teleport back to his tower, when he noticed something interesting at the bar.
Husk had that wonderfully manic grin he rarely sported, and Alastor knew that those specially sensitive ears of his heard the whole thing. But Eliza's face was carefully blank as she stared at the door. Unlike the veteran, she was unaware of what transpired in the limousine, so he wasn't surprised that she didn't share in Husk's dark satisfaction, nor that there was a chill in the air.
As he watched her, she did something curious; staring down at her hand, she tilted her head as if contemplating something. Then, looking up at the bar, she touched one of the glasses sitting on the counter. It and the contents within both froze in an instant, and the air immediately warmed back to its average temperature.
He felt nothing short of excitement when her own expression lifted into a delighted little smile. Finally, conscious control! But unlike her, the much more experienced wendigo grinned as he knew the next step in the learning curve; discovering the drawbacks.
Power has consequences in Hell, at least for sinners. Weaker souls do not understand the downsides to coming down stronger than the rest, and it was a lesson she would soon learn.
Everything has a price.
Angel was right: He wasn't going to be seen again until after Lust Day. Even when the shoots were finished, he wasn't permitted to leave the studio. Smoke breaks, snack breaks and naps were his life now as the pimp overlord worked him for every penny he owed the moth bastard. And yet there was one thing that Valentino, no matter what he offered, simply couldn't do.
The spider refused to get high.
The cigarettes were the hardest hit he took the entire time, and even those were just a single draw before being snuffed out. Rough shoots, long party performances, selling himself to high-bid patrons… And not a single shot of any drug; not even the one he was named for.
The pimp overlord was nothing short of pissed. Then, to add fuel to the fire, the day before Lust Day…
"Excuse me, sir," a tall, curvy woman entered his office. "The, um… Princess of Hell is here to see you."
Without so much as a warning growl, he grabbed the woman by the front of her shirt and pulled her close to his face, holding her over his desk and not giving a damn that she cried out loud enough that anyone nearby could hear. "You tell that clown-faced twat to get the fuck outta my-"
"Hi there!"
Valentino's face fell at the sound of such a bubbly voice emanating from behind the front desk woman, glaring behind her at a rather nervous looking blond with red cheeks and no other complexion to speak of.
"God. Fucking. Dammit," he murmured, releasing the woman to barely catch herself on his desk, giving Charlie a clear view of everything the sinfully short dress couldn't hide even if it tried. The princess turned red as a tomato and glanced awkwardly to the side as the woman picked herself up and made a swift exit, glaring at the intruder all the while.
"Sooo…" Charlie began as Valentino sat back down, rubbing his right temple. "Nice to meet you! I'm Charlie." She reached out her hand with a large grin that took every ounce of willpower she had to maintain. Everyone deserves a chance, everyone deserves a chance…
Bearing a tone dripping with enough venom to wipe out half of Hell's population all on its own, he replied with a frown, "A pleasure, you're highness."
Realizing quickly that he probably wouldn't shake her hand if she paid him to, she brought it back to her side with a sigh. So, it was going to be like this after all. Still, she could give him another shot. "My hotel is going to have a party for the upcoming holiday, and all the guests are supposed to be there to-"
"Ha!" Valentino barked, causing Charlie to raise an eyebrow. "You're gonna tell me your little fantasy house celebrates Lust Day?"
"Love Day," she corrected, clearing her throat. "We celebrate Love Day, and we're going to have everyone-"
"Of fuckin' course ya do," he chuckled, though the corners of his mouth were barely upturned.
"AND-" she continued with a more forceful tone, "the guests are going to celebrate together with songs and-"
"And Angel's got way too much work ta do, lady," Valentino finished for her, making Charlie's eye twitch. Constantly being interrupted was really starting to grate on her nerves. "He owes me a lot for the work he hasn't been doing as your little test subject."
Well, when diplomacy fails… "I'm here to pick him up."
Valentino slammed his hands into the desk, standing up taller than he had before. "And what the fuck makes ya think I give a damn? He ain't goin', end of-"
"Yes, he is."
And always remember, my little apple pie; you don't take shit from other demons!
When Valentino went to argue, he found himself unable to speak. The princess' red, speckled horns rose high above her head, her eyes glowing bright red with small, golden irises. The sharp-toothed smile made him start to sweat. Shit, didn't see this side of royalty often.
"If he's in the middle of work," she continued, her aura downright oppressive and making it impossible to argue, "then it will finish now. Then he will get cleaned up, get in the limo parked outside, and come back to the hotel. Am I clear?"
Valentino's words sat like poison in his throat; words to tell her where she could shove her limo, her holiday and this damnable power she seemed to hide from everyone because where the fuck did this come from and-
"Yes, you're highness."
The words were stilted, as if he was doing everything short of biting his own tongue off to not say them. But it was too late; in that moment, Angel was given permission to leave the Studio and go back to the safety of the hotel, which Valentino was now very aware that he could not get near without suffering the wrath of the Radio Demon.
"Good!" Charlie cheered, dropping the demonic visage and, by extension, the aura that apparently brightened the room considerably as his eyes suddenly needed to adjust to the darkness that he swore hadn't been there before. "Then make sure he's ready to go in an hour, less is better." With that last decree, she turned on her heel and walked out the door, holding her head high all the way up until the door closed. As soon as she was outside, she deflated, letting her horns vanish and her eyes return to normal. Merciful Satan, she hated using that power. She hated forcing people to do things, hated making them feel helpless, and she hated how good it felt.
But from everything she heard from Angel about the pimp overlord, she knew it was highly probable it would need to come out eventually. Hopefully it would be a long while before needing to pull that out again. For now though, she hoped Angel would be ready to go really soon. She wanted to get back to Vaggie; her girlfriend always made her feel better after something like this.
Inside the office, Valentino stood in silence for a long while. Externally he looked calm, albeit a bit angry, but internally he was seething. Three times, now, someone at that hotel has made a fool out of him. The shrink turning down Vox's deal and mocking them, Alastor killing his driver and nearly killing him with that wretched shadow maniac at the wheel, and now the princess of Hell just waltzing into his god-damned office and giving him orders.
That hotel had to have a weakness, but even their spy has fallen out of contact. As far as they knew the little rodent was still alive, but they couldn't get any more information out of him. The location itself is guarded, and somehow that wendigo was able to track the staff when something was wrong. His little puss and that flirty maid would have made sense, but as far as they knew, the shrink wasn't under his thumb, and they still hadn't the faintest idea how the fuck he crashed that meeting.
When his phone rang, he very nearly threw the device when he grabbed it, glaring down at Vox's picture.
When he answered, he didn't even get a word out before the TV bastard was laughing at his ass. So this is why he called instead of just walking down to his office; probably so Valentino wouldn't punch another hole in his screen. Scowling up at the top right corner of the office, he watched as the camera turned to focus on his face, and the laughter got even louder over the phone.
Worse yet, when he hung up on Vox, he got yet another call. This time it was Velvet's picture on the screen, holding a knife over a beautiful red velvet cake; her favorite dessert. He was a bit more gentle on the answer button this time. "What is it, Vel?"
"So you're shitting rainbows on command, now?"
He crushed the phone in his hand. Ugh, why did their little family have to be made up of complete and utter assholes?
He got up and threw open the door to his office. Mommy was about to beat Daddy and put his foot down with their daughter.
Author's Notes:
I've seen lots of fanfiction comics and such about Alastor learning to accept his sexuality at the hotel, but considering how long he's been in Hell, I can't help but feel he would have already accepted it by now. I mean, Pride Month's been around since about 1999/2000, right? That gives him 18-19 years to interact with someone who would tell him it's OK to be ace, and while he has learned to go recluse during that whole week, it probably took him 3-4 years to figure out that this was not his time of year anymore, lol.
Oh, and Eliza has a bit of a duality issue when it comes to her sexuality. By nature she's one way, but her promiscuous dad has left his mark on ID, who has a different sexuality from the rest of Eliza's personality. Not sure if I'm going to address this directly in the story or not outside of ID never agreeing with Eliza's sexual decisions, so I thought I'd mention it here. Have fun figuring that mess out, Angel!
