Chapter 44
Same Place, Different Perspectives
Husk was not the type to ask. He liked to think he knew better than to get involved in someone's problems, and while Angel Dust was becoming something of an exception, even with him he didn't pry often unless it was really bad.
But Alastor just looked so. Fucking. Pathetic.
Yea, sure, he had his usual broad smile and cocky, half-lidded eyes, but the guy was just staring out the window with his chin on his palm. Normally the veteran couldn't get the fucker to shut up, especially when he's excited or nervous, but this was like someone hit the damn mute button, and it was seriously freaking him out. Silence with Alastor never meant anything good.
"Alright, I'm just gonna say it," Husk grumbled at last, "You're bein' too damn quiet."
Alastor glanced at him with a chuckle. "Am I? Aw, do you miss me already?"
"Forget. I. Said. Anything." the cat growled.
"Oh, come now; don't be shy!" Husk braced himself for the incoming hug, but surprisingly, the overlord didn't completely forget that Husk is trying to fucking drive here. That was new; Satan knows how many times he's almost crashed from a spontaneous space invasion. He did, however, pinch the veteran's cheeks, which made Husk wonder if maybe he'd crash just because he wanted to. "You're so cute all in a huff!"
The cat shoved his hand away with a grunt. "Goddammit, I take it back. Go back to shutting the fuck up."
"But how could I ever, knowing that I'm depriving you of precious conversation?" And with that, the overlord switched to tormenting his driver, laughing at every shout and snarl he could draw out from the grumpy cat.
Husk would die before ever admitting that this made him feel a lot better.
Flying. Is. HARD!
Eliza left far too early in the morning for this exact reason; she could barely fly a mile before needing to land on a rooftop to breathe. Not only was it exhausting, it was putting strain on her rose, which was surprisingly painful. The only other time her wings were out for longer was the morning Alastor attacked her, and once he was gone they had rested rather than do anything strenuous. Now they were getting a much greater workout than ever before.
It didn't help at all that she couldn't find a good wind to glide on. She didn't know how birds navigate wind-currents, but if it's instinctual, then clearly she was never meant to fly. That, and if she flapped her wings too hard, she had a tendency to find a strong current that nearly blew her out of the sky.
Ow.
On her fifth mile, she was nearly ready to just bite the bullet and pay for a cab. Sweet mercy she didn't expect to have to land so much, and she hated feeling so alone and miserable. Part of her wished she had brought Alucard along, but instead she told him to stay around the hotel. Since she wasn't familiar with the North Point, she didn't want to risk something happening to him, but she missed him so much right now.
Maybe she should just try this next year, after practicing more with her wings and saving more money. With what she had, she doubted she could do much, and admittedly she was worried about not being able to get back to the hotel. What if her wings were too tired to fly back? What if she spent too much money and didn't have enough for a cab all the way to the hotel?
'Oh, come on, we need this!' Id insisted. 'It'll be fun! Besides, we're in Hell! If there's ever a place to make mistakes, it's here!'
It didn't help that her spirit storage was feeling a little full. Her spearhead dagger was waiting as a last resort, and she had her business cards in there as well, but the addition of the boxes of tofu left her feeling heavier than usual. It was like wearing a pack on her back, and she didn't expect that. It wasn't helping with her already tumultuous flight.
Still, there was one upside to being up here; she got an excellent view of the heart of West Point, which looked a little like the pictures of New York City. It still had its hellish touches; eyes everywhere, the darker color scheme, demons flying this way and that…
If she didn't already have her heart set on the festival, she might have just gone there instead.
Six stops. Seven stops. Eight… Stops…
She finally just lay down on the roof of a very tall building with a tired groan. It was a serious temptation to just give up, but even from here it was still a long way to her destination. Maybe she should just walk a little ways to give her wings a break? Would that take too long?
She saw a few cars on the road, and some were heading her direction. Still, she may have hitch-hiked in life once, but in Hell, there was no way she was giving that another go. If she trusted her flying skills enough, it might have been really cool to try and land quietly on a car and ride it for a little while. It certainly would save her some effort, and there were plenty of cars heading the same direction as her.
Maybe she could steal a car? She's not famous like Angel Dust; no one knows who she is, especially this far out. It wouldn't reflect on the hotel. Still, she needed keys; in her anarchist group, hotwiring had always been Jeremy's job.
Oh, she should have taken him up on his offer to teach her how. Figures it would take dying to learn how to let someone teach her, like with…
'If you think of him, I will beat you,' Id growled, and the large black wings balled their hands into fists. 'That ship has sailed. Get the fuck over it and let's go!' Without her permission, the wings slammed down on the roof and sent her airborne, flaring out to start flying once again while she shrieked in surprise.
She could just tell that this was going to be a long and painful flight.
Alastor rarely took the time to enjoy something as simple as a drive anymore, but he didn't dare use up too much energy with a long-distance teleport. Before leaving, he transferred as much power as he could carry from his tower to his staff, just for a little extra security. One can never be too prepared, especially since he still felt fairly certain that this was a trap. It's too bad he couldn't just transfer that same power to other souls, or he would have loaned some out to Husk for the occasion. Unfortunately, that tended to have undesirable results, and he'd be very upset if something bad happened to his little war-cat.
Finally they arrived at their destination, and Husk parked the car. When Alastor got out, he put on his best smile, but internally he was rather distressed. Each section of the city had something of a border to cross, and the North Point had Hell's version of a very famous landmark; the Great Wall of China. On Earth, it's an impressive testament to China's unity. In Hell, it's an oversized brick pile made just to mark their territory. No matter what its origins, he doubted the inside was united in any way.
Reaching one of the large archways, Husk kept a step or two behind Alastor while surveying the area. If he had to be sober for this damn trip, then he'd make sure no one was going to fuck with them. Alastor promised him saké for this, and no one was getting in between him and his free booze.
Once on the other side, Alastor immediately felt like a fish out of water. There was no gap between the city and the wall on the West Point's side, but here, there were no buildings until much further in. No, instead there were open stalls covered in tarps, narrow streets brimming with people, and somehow even more noise than in West Point's main city.
The wendigo hated it.
Still, he saw an opportunity to put himself at ease. Nearby, a group of sinners were calling out to those entering the North Point, offering to help carry bags, luggage and other cumbersome packages, and he watched as several of them made off with everything when the owner's back was turned. There was much potential in that.
Summoning a dark carry-on suitcase, he beckoned one of the porters over to him with a friendly smile and a wicked glint in his eye. Husk just rolled his eyes and moved a bit out of the way, knowing full well that whatever was in that suitcase was bad news.
"Why hello there!" he greeted, cheerfully. The sinner, a small and humble-looking macaque with dark purple fur, a thin tail and a light pink mane starting just above the eyes and falling to a point at his jowls, put his hands together and bowed in greeting.
"I help you carry, yes?" he asked in broken English, his thick Indian accent somewhat hard to understand.
"Yes, indeedy!" Alastor confirmed. "Now, please do be very careful! It's a little unstable, you see."
"Yes sir!" As soon as the little monkey took the case, the red-clad newcomer turned to talk with his companion. He wasted no time making off with the goods, holding the handle of the luggage in his tail so he could run on all fours.
He didn't get far.
"AAAAAH!" he screamed as the suitcase came undone and besieged him with tiny, shadowy hands. First they grabbed his tail, and slowly clawed further up as they dragged him back into the case, which was now a large, toothy, salivating maw. "Help me!"
Everyone cleared the area as the carnivorous carry-on swallowed him whole, not even a single drop of blood escaping before it changed back into its closed and unassuming form once more, as if the little thief had never existed.
While the others in his group just stared in horror at the case, Alastor walked up and took hold of the handle, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "I warned him it was unstable! Oh dear…" He looked up at the band of thieves and held out the handle. "Would anyone else like to try?"
They scattered like the cockroaches they were, and from that moment on the crowd gave him a wide berth.
"Ah, that is much better!" he cheered. "Come now, Husker! Let's go find our mysterious sponsor-to-be!"
"Yea, yea," he grunted, following the vigorous step of his boss. "Fuck, that saké better be worth all this."
Breathing. Such an underappreciated thing that everyone does in life, and apparently even death can't save a soul from becoming severely winded. If this was just a part of being in Hell and not generally part of the afterlife, then Lucifer is a fucking asshole.
Eliza's chest felt like it was constricting past the point of permitting the transfer of air by the time she made it to the wall. Id refused to stop until she reached her destination, and it left Eliza huddling in a dark corner to recover. She hoped no one found her right now, because when she nearly crashed into the ground, the black vines that made up her wings came unfurled and lay loosely on the ground before finally disappearing into her back, and her rose withdrew into her chest at the same time. At least she wasn't stuck having some paralytic seizure like when her wings rebelled against her in the past. Still, just in case she was discovered, she made sure to have her angel dagger in hand. Specifically, the hand that others could see.
While she rested, she heard someone screaming near the archway. Either she was just paranoid or there were psychic powers developing, but no matter what she just knew that Alastor was somehow involved in that. It made her very glad that she was stuck catching her breath a little ways away; now she would give him time to make his way inside before she would follow. That way, they would be unlikely to run into each other. The last thing she needed was to piss him off and get teleported away out of spite. Then she'd completely miss the festival, because there was no way she'd have a second flight in her to come back. She'd be lucky to use her wings in self-defense if necessary.
PLEASE don't be necessary.
It was a little while before she felt like she could move again, and a bit longer before she could walk without shaking. The rose in her chest hurt in ways she couldn't even describe, the fatigue was rough to deal with, and she realized quickly that she should probably eat something to recover the rest of the way. Hopefully there would be someplace to eat just inside the wall, and she silently prayed that Hell didn't have a problem with different currencies. She really didn't need something like that making her afterlife more difficult, especially right now.
Oh mercy, what if every country in Asia had its own currency, even down here? Then it'd be impossible to get around!
When she finally had the shaking completely under control, she took a moment to summon her tofu boxes, which were kept in a plastic bag. She hadn't intended to carry them by hand, but frankly keeping them in her spirit storage was more taxing than she anticipated. This must have been what Vaggie meant by 'knowing your limit.' At this point, keeping them on her person would probably be easier. Feeling ready at last, she took a deep breath and walked up to one of the three large archways. On the one side; familiar-looking buildings marking the edge of a major city. On the other side; Wonderland.
Eliza briefly forgot how to breathe as she found herself entering her first ever open marketplace, selling a wide range of foods and crafts the likes of which she has never seen in person. People of every country seemed to be here, and she saw dozens of different greetings as people approached the merchant stands. Foreign languages flooded her ears, and everywhere she looked was a different style of stall. Each looked rather similar; a wooden, open-air box laden with goods and covered in a tarp, but each had its own flair. Different color banners, different structures, different wares…
Even with all the mugging, stealing and murder happening around her, sometimes Hell felt more like a paradise than a punishment. And she noticed yet another reason to be very happy right now; currency. Uniform currency.
OK, maybe Lucifer isn't a complete asshole.
After an hour, Alastor started to get frustrated, and Husk was annoyed by his constant pestering. "You speak at least two languages from this continent, correct?"
"Three," Husk grunted.
"Then how the blazes are we still stuck here?" Alastor demanded. "This maze is positively insufferable! Oh, if only I knew the area, I'd just teleport us out! This is positively ridiculous!"
With a growl, Husk suggested, "Well, I could fly you out. Do you prefer bridal style, or ridin' over the shoulder?"
"Neither, thank you very much," the overlord declined, nervously. "It just irritates me that this sponsor decided to be so vague!"
"Well, we're headin' the right way," Husk told him, flatly. "Everyone says the festival is this way."
"Hmm, I will say that the food stalls have an impressive stock," Alastor acknowledged. "If we weren't on a schedule, perhaps this could have been a somewhat pleasant excursion."
"Eh, they got food you can eat and walk with," Husk told him.
Alastor scoffed. "If it's some quick-fix gruel, I think I'll starve, thank you."
"Yea, well I'm fuckin' hungry, and if I can't get my goddamned saké until after this shit is over…"
"Oh, very well!" Alastor interrupted with a theatrical sigh. "Just find us something palatable or I'll eat the shopkeeper instead, ha!"
Despite his joking tone, Husk knew very well that the man was very likely to do exactly that. Perking his sensitive ears, he listened closely to the surrounding area until he found something promising. "This way." Leading the wendigo through the maze, he finally found what he was looking for; karaage (Japanese fried chicken) on a stick. "See? Portable. Smells fresh, too. Get me two."
"Not until I've inspected it," the overlord replied in a hoity-toity tone.
Husk rolled his eyes. Why did the guy have to be such a food snob? Well, whatever, he'd get a good look at it, figure out it's (hopefully) legit, and they'd get some food at last. As he waited, he decided to look around; fuck knows how long Alastor was going to take with his 'inspection.'
Following a set of stalls selling an assortment of Central Asian crafts, he found a set of Afghan bracelets that caught his eye. Specifically, one with pink and red beads, and the holes were shaped like hearts. Then there was another that was brown and white, and the holes were surrounded with the four suits in a deck of cards. Since he was here, maybe he should get something for… He shook his head. No, that would be dumb. Angel gets better gifts from his crazy fans, why would he want something like that? The cat felt like such an idiot, getting sentimental all the way out here.
Damn he needed a drink.
/Hey, get back here you little brat!/
Husk turned when he heard Japanese nearby, and he squinted as something looked like it was coming closer. Much, much closer.
And fast!
His only warning was a small, one-eyed red fox jumping through a stall. Husk dodged at the last second as some giant reddish-brown bull bastard charged through that same stall as if it wasn't even there, smashing it to pieces.
/Where'd you go, thief?!/ he bellowed, shaking the surrounding booths. /Think you can take my food without paying?/
Husk hissed from his low position on the floor, ears laid back as he glared up at the pissed-off bull. The man was wearing an apron stained in blood, which marked him as something of a butcher, or maybe even a cook. As the sinner looked around furiously, Husk noticed a single, glowing eye staring down at the guy from a nearby tarp. Suddenly, the young fox jumped down onto the man's head, clawing at one of his eyes with a chuckle. The horned man cried out in pain as the fox jumped down to the ground, grinning wickedly.
Not wanting to get involved in this shit, Husk began crawling away from the fight. But then the bull made a critical mistake; stepping on his goddamned tail. Husk gave a yowl before turning and biting the man in the leg.
/Let go of me, cat!/ he commanded, reaching down to grab a hold of his scruff. Too slow; Husk used his claws to climb up the man's back, launching himself from his shoulders to glide a little ways away. /You bastard! I'll carve you up for that!/
Husk just grinned as he looked down at the little fox kid, who was watching him warily. /Hey kid, want to see a magic trick?/
Nodding with an excited smile, the fox ran off to the side as the raging sinner recalibrated himself, turning his focus away from his injuries and back to the ones who caused them. /I'll put you both on my block!/
Standing up straight, Husk held out his arm. At first, the bull just stared at him in confusion. Then the veteran stretched out his wing to hang under his arm in a similar fashion to a matador. /Olé, mother fucker./
Letting out a furious roar, the bull charged forward. He saw that there was nothing beyond the cat's arm; nothing to worry about. Therefore, he wasn't concerned about possibly missing if the cat moved quickly enough. Unfortunately, he didn't think to watch the cat's tail, or the object said tail was moving into place. As soon as the bull reached him, Husk removed his arm and wing to reveal a large, thick wooden board, which he promptly took hold of so that when the man rammed his horns through it, he turned him mid charge and watched him lose his footing, rolling down the narrow street and taking out several people along the way from his momentum alone.
Giving an amused grunt, Husk turned back to the one-eyed fox and gave a bow. Now able to see him clearly, he noted that, while he only had an amber eye on the right, the left was an open, empty black socket. Otherwise, the fox seemed fairly normal, and the four other foxes that joined him to bark and cheer were all very normal looking as well.
/Show us another trick!/ the one-eyed fox, clearly their leader, called out excitedly.
/More magic! More magic!/ a second one chanted.
Husk pulled out his deck of cards. /All right!/ He pulled out his Ace of Hearts. /Keep an eye on the card./
By the time the veteran returned to Alastor, the man was finally purchasing their sticks of karaage, having hand-picked the pieces himself because the shopkeeper kept trying to give him older ones. When he went to hand his translator his requested two sticks, he looked down at his arms. "Oh? Decided to do some shopping while you waited? What odd little bracelets you're wearing." Then, in a sly tone, he added, "I can't help but feel that the colors are a tad familiar, somehow."
"You're imaginin' shit," Husk denied, swiping his two sticks and stuffing his face with a large chunk of chicken.
"Mmm-hmm," the overlord hummed, skeptically, taking a bite of his own chicken.
Sure he was.
The maze looked daunting at first, but watching the people made it much easier to navigate than Eliza originally thought. At first, she was just studying their greetings; it's common sense to think that a person from a different country might be more agreeable to a tourist if the foreigner puts effort into learning their language, or at least local manners. Then she noticed odd behavior in some people. Most were there to look at wares, but some were looking at posts or banners instead. After seeing some people do this, she inspected each item of interest closely. Turns out some posts were notched with varying numbers of cuts, and certain banners held small cuts in the left side, also of varying quantity. They were all very easy to miss, and she started following the numbers. Indian banners eventually led her to a walled-off area made of sand-brick, and everything past that archway matched Indian architecture.
Then she started looking all over for cut Japanese banners, and eventually she found one with two cuts in it. She wasn't sure which way was backwards or forwards, but when she decided to go left, she ended up eventually finding the one-cut banner, telling her she took a wrong turn. From then on, it was rather easy to find her way, even though the banners were pretty spaced out. Still, she took her time wandering through, and when she eventually found the fifth marked banner, she was surprised to find a small, misty clearing. Looking down the narrow street that led to the next banner, she decided to take a moment to see what this place was.
When she took a step onto the grass, the mist seemed to swirl, and immediately she wondered if she made a mistake. Mist doesn't move like that, and she just knew she walked into an area full of magic.
Uh-oh.
"Hello there, young one!"
She froze in surprise at hearing someone speak English. The voice was deep, but soft and inviting, and she took a careful look around. Finally her eyes fell on a shadow not far away, shaped like a box. Was there a stall in the clearing?
"Please, come forward! We rarely get prepared foreigners!"
Prepared foreigners? What in Hell does that mean?
Eliza's curiosity was on fire, and after one final look back at the crowded marketplace, she decided that this clearing had three things going for it. Number one, there wasn't a crowd, and she was a bit peopled out. Number two, it was a mysterious magical place, and she really wanted to inspect it all. And finally there was number three; a really amazing smell coming from the cart.
And so she walked into the mist.
When she arrived, she found a tall golden fox demon with narrow green eyes and a soft smile. He was standing in front of his cart, and with the mist she couldn't quite see the contents. "Welcome! I am Eichi; member of the renowned Kitsune clan, but today I am your humble cook."
Eliza couldn't believe it; she actually found a Kitsune! "My name is Eliza." After a moment, she held up her bag of two boxes. "Is this what you meant by prepared?"
"It is indeed!" he confirmed with a bow. "There aren't many I allow to visit my cart, but with you carrying something that smells so delicious, I simply couldn't resist. Homemade fried tofu is such a treat, but to see it brought by an outsider is quite surprising!"
The therapist gave a relieved sigh. "Oh, good, that means I didn't mess it up. It's hard for me to tell whether I made it correctly or not."
"Why is that?"
She gave a somewhat apologetic look. "I really don't like tofu."
"And yet you made it anyway! How kind." Eichi reached out a paw. "May I?"
Eliza faltered for a moment as she struggled to remember. Holy kitsune get the blue box, wild get the red. Wild Kitsune are the red ones… right? And the golden ones are Holy, which means this demon gets the blue box. Oh, mercy, she hoped she was right, and if she wasn't then hopefully it didn't actually matter. When she pulled out the blue box, the fox's eyes gleamed for a moment. Oh, crap, did she get it wrong?
"An excellent choice of color," he praised, accepting the box almost reverently.
Eliza could have dissolved from relief. "I'm glad you like it!"
When the demon opened the box, he looked absolutely thrilled. It was packed full, and the smell was mesmerizing. Closing it before temptation caused him to make a fool of himself, he put the box on the stall. "Well, a meal for a meal!"
Finally she could approach the stall, and her pupils pulsed in excitement. It was an oden stall; something she's never really had a chance to try! "This looks delicious! How does this work?"
"Simple; you choose your own ingredients! Go on, take a look."
Everything was there in three separate sections. The left had all the meats; fish cakes, chicken, beef, meatballs and other things she had to ask about. The middle had some meat too, but also tofu, shrimp, balls of dough, eggs and much more. All the veggies were on the right; mushrooms, carrots, corn on the cob, some sort of black bean cake she's never seen before and a few other things she's never seen.
As the cook put her dish together, Eliza noticed a small, fuzzy golden face peeking around the right side of the stall. When she looked down, the tiny fox drew back slightly in surprise, and the elder fox laughed. "Do not be shy; she is a customer! Say hello."
"H-hello," she obeyed, nervously taking a curious step forward. For the most part, she looked like a normal fox as she seemed to walk on all fours, but her eyes were strange. Her left eye was a bright, luminous green, while the right was an empty black socket.
"Hi there," the pale demoness greeted with a wave.
"Are you a tofu dragon?"
Eliza paused. How did the little fox know she was a dragon? In her normal form, she only had scales, and her wings were still too tired to show! "I brought tofu, but I don't think that makes me a-"
"You made lots!" she said, jumping out with her tail wagging. "Can we have the rest?"
"Kichi!" Eichi reprimanded. "That box is not for us; don't be rude!"
"But it smells tasty!" she whined. "More tofu, tofu dragon! More tofu!"
"I apologize, miss Eliza," the elder sighed, carefully handing the dragoness her bowl. "Children are not the most refined."
"It's OK," the therapist assured him. "She's so cute!" When Eliza looked down at her, Kichi was bouncing around while happily chanting, 'Tofu dragon! Tofu dragon!'
"Yes, she is," he agreed with a smile. "If only her brother Genki was here; they're twins, you see, but he's wild. Probably out causing trouble with his friends."
When Eliza sat down at the stall, she took her first bite of oden, and it was delicious! "You take a lot of pride in your stall; is that why you're so picky with your customers?"
"Yes," he answered, softly. "I am a third generation cook, and my family has spent centuries perfecting oden. My father was more open, saying food is for all, but I prefer to cook for more deserving individuals."
Eliza blushed. "Well, I'm honored to be included in that; arigato gozaimasu!"
The fox blinked for a moment. /Do you speak Japanese?/
There was a pause, but after a few moments Eliza understood what he asked. /I speak a little Japanese./
Her vocabulary was basic, and she spoke slowly, but her pronunciation was surprisingly accurate. "Perhaps if you return, you might learn more!"
"Maybe, but today I'm trying to get to the Nebuta Festival!"
Eichi clapped his hands together. "I think I can help you with that, if you wish!"
"I'll be fine, but thank you very much!"
Staring down at her in surprise, he asked, "Are you sure? I could save you quite a bit of time!"
"No, thank you," she declined, sweetly. "There's a pattern I can follow in the marketplace, and I really like seeing all the stalls. I'd rather not skip them, but I appreciate the offer."
"Ah, you've already found the marked banners?"
"Yes! Although I have a question; I know the banners lead to their respective regions in the city, but what are the notched poles for?"
The fox's face grew serious. "I do not recommend you follow those, child."
When he didn't elaborate further, Eliza took the hint. "Then I won't; thank you."
After a tense moment, Kichi jumped onto the seat next to the therapist. "Tofu dragon, you'll come back next year, right?!"
"Kichi!" Eichi snapped.
"It's OK." Turning to give the fox child her full attention, Eliza smiled. "I don't know if I can come next year. Honestly, it's a miracle I made it today! But if I do, I will bring more tofu." Looking up at the cook, she asked, "Are you always by the fifth banner?"
"Yes," he confirmed with a nod.
"Then look at that; I even know how to find you! How does that sound?"
"YAY!" Kichi cheered. "More tofu! More tofu!"
When she finished her bowl of oden and gave her thanks, Eliza felt even more excited for the festival. Walking back into the market, no one even blinked an eye at the pale demoness stepping out of the empty stall no one dared move into, and when she turned to look at it, she saw a small symbol of a fox head surrounded by smoke on the front. If it was within her power, she was definitely coming back here!
On a large cliff, a lovely bathhouse sat precariously close to the edge, which was held tightly together by an almost invisible layer of silk. Specifically, spider silk, strong enough to maintain the ground's integrity, and easy for the thousands of golden orb weaver spiders to maintain. A large balcony sat at the top's ground level, hanging over the edge of the cliff and overseeing almost everything in the sector.
Jorōgumo looked over that balcony; her balcony, gazing over the streets of the Yokai's land where the commoners prepared for their little festival. Even some other Yokai were becoming involved, such as the Kitsune and an occasional pacified Ubume. While they were all separate entities, the Yokai all referred to each other as family in some form depending on their rank. High-ranking leaders were grandparents, and then it went down from there. Siblings were equals, children and lower were inferior, and parents and higher were superior.
The whore spider hated her rank. She was in the lower ranks, and this was a source of great displeasure. There were very few in their group who referred to her as a parent, such as the lowly Kamaitachi (sickle weasel) and similar weak Yokai.
Because of this, she has never made a move forward because her powers were best used to deceive, and the powerful who made it far in Hell tended to be too clever to fall for her trappings. Alastor was likely to be no exception, and therefore tonight had to be perfect. She had enough power stored to make a very special web; but the threads had to be fresh, or else their power would dwindle over time, and he might break free.
Her daughters reported the wendigo's progress, as well as information on his translator companion; a cat with skills in sleight of hand, but no other outstanding powers to speak of. As he drew close to her bathhouse, where she intended to meet with him on this very balcony, she personally made sure everything was in place. Tonight, whether he consented or not, she would sleep with one of the most powerful sinners in Hell. She would bear powerful, hateful daughters that delighted in consuming weak-willed men; better than the pathetic and sentimental daughters her recent conquests have given her, and the raw power the overlord was famous for would fuel her advancement.
Finally, Jorōgumo would earn respect from her peers.
Author's Notes:
Yes, Alastor totally summoned a suitcase shadow mimic.
If you've ever seen XXXHolic (an anime), you'll probably realize that a few things about the Kitsune seem familiar. In the anime, a Kitsune family run an oden cart, and they are usually obscured by an unnatural mist. Also, the Kitsune matriarch's design in my head is similar to Yuuko, if Yuuko had the personality of a cantankerous old lady. The stuff about the boxes is completely made up and has nothing to do with Kitsune lore, and frankly I've never heard of anyone leaving fried tofu out for Kitsune spirits, but considering liking fried tofu is part of Kitsune lore, you know someone does it somewhere.
And no, while I've had a lot of this planned for a while, I am not looking forward to Jorōgumo's meeting with Alastor. I think you know why.
