Born from my sister's recollection of a particular story that was deleted from wattpad. The story is long gone, but I decided I'd take a spin at what I was imagining for the premise.
The hotel wasn't so sweet on the eyes in its current state. An empty bar room, which would be nice in other occasions, wasn't appealing now. It was his job day and night to tend to the rather distinct lack of guests to serve. Add on the fact that he wasn't allowed to drink on the job, or even serve alcohol, and it made for quite the total opposite of what Alastor proclaimed the lord would find there: entertainment. Whatever kind of entertainment it was, Husk was waiting for it to hit him like a barrel of wine. Not even a pool table was entertained- it 'encouraged gambling', the princess would say- which eliminated cards of any sort. Another demon to warm his bed? Not in the cards either.
Painful as it was, Husk did believe in honoring a deal, and Alastor believed in the same faith; something unheard of with other lords. To that, he'd drink. Technically it wasn't allowed, though since he was off shift, and with Charlie nowhere in sight, he could manage some magic. Just a little trick he learned from Al': the ability to procure booze. It was far from ideal since the results were varied, ranging from perfect Jack Daniel's to practical sewer water given his out-of-practice magicianship, but it'd do for now.
The distinct sound of liquid shifting in his bottle as he tilted it up, the cold burning singeing, he stared out to mass of lights that was Pentagram City; the only city he personally knew in the seven rings. Many demons called it a blessing to live there, but could it even be called that, given their predicament? There they sat, sitting ducks, hoping they wouldn't get picked off on the routine execution day that came every 365 days- a year, unless a few angels decided to visit for a night of slaughter. It was never a guarantee, the news reporting true deaths every now and then. You just had to be praying they didn't.
The drink fought against his thoughts, haziness, and his eyes turning heavier by the minute. His eyes blinking a second too long and his body leaning forward, he nearly toppled off the edge of the hotel. There he sat against the red moonlight, a rather large fall awaiting him should he get too clumsy. Death wasn't what awaited as a demon, however. Regeneration was all lethality could ever get him... that, and an earful from the Radio Demon about his reckless habits. It was as true now, and it was true then, back in his previous life. But, it wasn't the drink that killed him. Not quite. No reason to quit now, seeing as sinner cirrhosis wasn't a thing.
"Ufff." Husk wheezed.
Leaning backwards at that moment, he perhaps leaned too much, landing flat on his back. Hearing a distant bottle crackle, he moaned in pain. He had let the bottle drop to the grounds far below. Conjuring booze took effort, and stamina, you know? Trying to sit up, he looked to the ledge and saw a few more unopened bottles. His eyes glimmered; looks like he'd made a few more extra than he could remember. Chuckling, he groggily stood up, walking into a stumble, and this time, falling flat onto his face.
Husk groaned into the dusty, concrete floor. Turning himself around, he faced the sky. Sleeping here didn't seem like such a bad idea, seeing as he couldn't move 10 feet without falling.
His thoughts drifted. In perspective, signing under Alastor was far from the worst outcome. Now, Angel? He had gotten himself into a bad deal. That was true hell. Charlie, a perfect representative of the upper class, sure wasn't happy having to shoulder the responsibility of one day becoming Queen of the whole place. Husk had no interest in that much power, nor did he have interest in becoming an overlord. Alastor, for as much as he played his part so well, could not fool the cat. They knew each other too well for that.
His thoughts shifted to Niffty. Ah yes, the co-worker he'd had for quite a few lifetimes now. Despite having spent years with her under Alastor's management, he didn't know too much about her. In fact, before he and Al' ever met, Niffty and the man in red were already well-acquainted. They rarely ever talked, since the errands they ran were usually mutually exclusive. Niffty had a natural affinity for the more boring things an overlord needed; Cleaning, groceries, and other quality of life chores at the Radio Demon's mansion. Husk, on the other hand, did the more dirty work. That used to entail a number of things, ranging from gathering funds through your standard mugging, setting up potential businesses (this unfortunately failed, as the technology just wasn't in fashion anymore), gathering information on other lords, recruitment, a few carpenter jobs here and there...
'Ah, those were the days.' Husk laughed dryly.
Ever since Alastor had developed his shadow magic, however, overpowering so many overlords and only evolving further, there wasn't much Husk had to do. The lord had gotten so incredibly bored, in fact, that they were now at this hotel for no logical reason. Alastor's reasoning, as said, was entertainment. There was little entertainment in it for Husk though, as it just meant staying behind a counter for hours on end, only serving the occasional spider that seriously got on his nerves from the constant sex jokes that came with every episode, and Alastor. Niffty didn't drink as far as he knew, and neither did the royal duo.
"Are you having fun yet?" Husk asked Alastor on a dry afternoon.
"Oh, plenty! Trust me, my friend. In the grand scheme, you'll see why this was worth it." Alastor would smile widely.
The man was pure madness. But a deal was a deal... and he should've been thankful he wasn't getting shot at anymore, while also having total protection from the Radio Demon. That got him to wonder: How could Niffty have gotten involved in all of this? Was she just some random demon that Alastor happened to realize cleaned well? Just some maid who thankfully wasn't taken in by abusive upper class scum? The two never collided, always cordial and kind in their interactions, nor were they ever close. Just total professionalism.
"Mmmm..." Husk hummed. The thoughts were pointless. Finally, he'd exhausted himself enough to fall asleep, the cement feeling much more like a fluffy pillow and mattress underneath his intoxicated body.
...
...
Rumbling lowly approached, barely conscious in his mind. Clunking preceded footsteps, light ones, moving near his body. Forcing himself into action, Husk reached for the pistol stuffed behind his pants. He was experienced - just as fast, even in his clumsy, alcohol-fatigued state, and lack of action for the past how many years. You never forget to ride a bike, after all.
His blurred, double vision caught a figure standing on the ledge.
"Wuh? What the hell? Husk grumbled, then saw the familiar, small shadow. He returned his pistol discreetly, glad she didn't see him aiming right for her head. "Hey... what are ya doin'?"
Niffty gasped, startled. Husk saw her step on a bottle, laying sideways. Quickly, he reached out and grabbed her hand before she could slip, the adrenaline rushing him. This was the third time he fell tonight, able to yank the tiny, practically weightless demon back to the roof. Feeling her under him, he looked down, level with her eye with an arm around her torso. Good, he wasn't totally out of it. A drink or two more and he may have been staring a puddle, and a lot of explaining to do to the boss.
They stared for a few good seconds, panting.
"Niffty..." Husk broke the silence. "what the fuck are you doing?!"
Quickly getting up, much of the drunkenness fading, he rubbed his eyes with his fingers, snapped out of what was going to be a fairly peaceful slumber. Now his head was aching from the suddenness, the whiplash of thinking and all.
"I," Niffty got up slowly, still a bit shaken. "I-I was just... checking the view!"
"Checking the view? What, of the sidewalk?" He scoffed, looking at her, then shaking his head.
"You scared me!" Niffty got up to her feet and glared, brushing off the dust from her dress. "How was I supposed to know you were here?"
"Whatever. Just, be fucking careful next time. Jesus..." Looking at the numerous bottles around them, Husk knew he couldn't get too angry.
Niffty didn't seem too bothered. Turning her back to him, she once neared the edge, though not topping the ledge. She stared out. Husk began kicking the bottles away, not needing another accident to happen.
"Do you enjoy it here?" Her voice was smaller, more collected as she caught her breath.
"The hotel's far from renovated. But it ain't the worst." Husk half lied.
"Oh..."
Husk kicked the last bottle away, this one falling off the roof like the first. "Heh... I don't blame ya. Not a lot of action, but we're well fed. You know, we're lucky he even considers us 'employees.' Has all the power to make us do whatever we want. But. He doesn't."
"Yeah..." Niffty stepped further out. "...it's a good life, isn't it?"
"It is." Husk glanced over to Niffty, then reached into his pocket for a smoke. Flicking the lighter, covering the flame overhead, he lit for a drag. "Sometimes it don't feel pretty. But when I think about it... everything. In this hell, what more can I ask for?"
Niffty didn't move an inch. Her neck laid low as he realized she stared not to the lights, but the pavement below. Husk's lips scrunched, the cigarette rolling to one side of his mouth as he went to her side, patting her shoulder awkwardly, needing to lean down due to her height. He'd never touched her before this moment, nor really noticed just how small she was.
"Hey," Husk settled his hand. "you okay?"
Niffty trembled at his touch. When she looked up at him, he could see the tears flowing freely, refracting lightly in scarlet night.
"Yes." She spoke in a whisper, sharp, and short.
"Ah, shit." Husk accidentally blurted out. Sighing, he crouched down. "Alright, tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing..." Niffty put on a smile, as still as a shadow. "It's just like you said. What more can I ask for?"
...
...
Niffty finally turned her head a moment after, wiping the tears away, and looking more like her usual self. Smiling wider, she grinned. "I'm fine! Sorry, I just had a moment there."
"...Right." Husk slowly stood up, estranged by the sudden turn in mood, but nodded. "Let's get back inside. We still have a shift tomorrow."
She practically bounced back into the elevator, and he followed beside her as they headed back for the 3rd floor- where the whole gang's rooms were. As the doors closed, he could hear her humming a familiar tune. It was one she'd often sound along with her duties in the hotel. Husk was reassured to a certain extent, but felt something rotten in theair. Something felt 'unanswered.' But, without the tears, being off the roof, and feeling his exhaustion settle back, he elected not to press. Now and then, he'd glance to her, Niffty looking... just like Niffty. He supposed the dying and the suicidal thoughts came with the territory. Maybe he was the one who was strange for not wanting to kill himself.
Making their way to their rooms, Husk reached for his keys, slow in finding the right one (he had a copy for all the rooms, doubling as receptionist for now while they looked for someone), and upon finally fumbling onto the right one, looked back to her. Husk stared long, that itch returning. As she looked up at him, cheery, he narrowed his eyes slightly, looking away. They were right next door to each other. Unlocking his door, about to enter, he forced his hesitation down.
"Niffty?" He called out.
When Niffty looked at him, she seemed to know just what was on his mind. But, she was expectant, waiting.
"All of us have bad days. Sometimes, I feel that too." Husk was never the type to be able to make these speeches. " You can talk to me anytime, alright? ...Goodnight."
Niffty seemed at a lost for words too, in thought, before she settled on a slow nod. "Thank you, Husk. Goodnight."
Husk offered a small smile back, awkwardly waving despite only being a few feet away. "I'll, uh... see you tomorrow."
She giggled. "Yeah... see you tomorrow."
