It was another morning at the Hazbin Hotel. For the resident porn star, he was fortunate enough to have some leeway for at least a few hours before going in to work.
Valentino had given Angel Dust most of the day off, only asking for his participation in a series of photo shoots at around 3:00. If he was lucky, he'd be home to eat dinner. For the time being, the spider-like sinner decided to do some morning stretches to get himself limber.
"Hah." He sighed. "Sometimes it's just so hard to keep up appearances. My adorin' audiences deserve only the best from the sexiest bastard in hell."
A pink, chubby creature was waking up at this time, having slept in for about three hours. It was a piglet, no bigger than twenty or so pounds. From a distance it looked like any other pig, but upon closer inspection, it was apparent that it was born within one of the seven circles of Hell itself.
Splotches of dark pink and black covered its left eye and parts of its flanks. A pair of dark little horns no bigger than the digit of one's pinky sprouted from its head. Four, reddish horns sprouted like quills in a line along the top of the piglet's hips. Its tail was forked like that of the Devil in common fictional lore.
This was Fat Nuggets, the pet of Angel Dust, and he was in the process of stretching like his master, albeit not in the same fashion.
After he loosened his hips and stretched his multiple arms, Angel Dust could not help but quietly squeal in adoration as his plump companion stretched much like a dog or cat would. He scooped him up into his arms and cuddle the demonic swine close to his face.
"Is Daddy's handsome little boy getting his legs stretched?" Angel Dust cooed. "Aww, did you get a good sleep?"
Fat Nuggets merely oinked in response.
"You did?! Aww who's such a pretty piggy? You are!"
The cuddling was short lived as Angel Dust began to get his supplies ready for the day. The porn star always carried a makeup kit with him, so he went to his bathroom to take stock of what he had before placing it in what could be described as a small, black man-purse with bright pink spiders adorning it. He was running out of the special base that allowed him to wear rouge and other things without having to shave all of the hair on his face. A few other bottles containing nail polish, blush, mascara, and other types of makeup were also becoming scarce. There was enough for filming sessions later that day, but Angel decided to go out and buy more while he still had all the time in the world that morning.
He soon waltzed down the stairs and joined the others for breakfast. Niffty, having arrived earlier that everyone else, took the opportunity to make omelets for everyone. It was then that Angel announced where he was heading to that day.
Charlie remarked with interest. "That's actually rather convenient. Jersey wanted to go today to buy some more outfits with the money he has now."
"Ugh, do I hafta babysit the guy?" Angel remarked. He hadn't had the warmest interaction with Jersey, and rather preferred keeping any interactions limited and professional. To have the hotel's resident handyman (minus the fun part of using one's hands) joining him on a shopping trip was too unpleasant for his liking.
"I'm right here, you know." Jersey replied dryly.
"Yeah, and I stand by what I said, Mr. Cold Fish."
"Okay, enough. I don't want you two fighting again." Charlie admonished lightly. "This is the ideal opportunity to get to know each other. Besides, Jersey is a recent arrival and hasn't been out in over three weeks. He could use a little tour."
Angel's face soured for a moment. He thought about the matter, and realized that he could find some way to make the less than aloof Jersey loosen up. It was just a matter of finding the right outlet.
"Ugh fine." Angel carefully crafted his tone to sound as if he was not planning to get his latest acquaintance out of his comfort zone. "Just don't expect me to suddenly be his best pal."
Jersey rolled his eyes. "I promise to not be offended by your lack of friendship, Mr. PCP."
The rest of the breakfast was spent with Angel glaring at a somewhat mirthful Jersey.
Jersey was busy putting on fresh clothes for going out on the town. His efforts were stopped by a knock on his hotel room's door. Double checking to make sure his jeans had their fly zipped up, he answered the door.
It was Charlie.
"Do you need something before I go?" He asked casually.
"Just a promise." Charlie requested awkwardly. She was nervously rubbing a hand on one of her arms.
"Does it have anything to do with Angel?"
"Yeah."
A suffering sigh came from Jersey's lips. Although he was far from the warmest person with regards to interactions with Angel, he didn't need to be told to not get combative with him over the porn star's uncanny ability to irritate other people with his licentious nature and propensity to insult and sass others.
"I won't lay a finger on him, if that's what you're asking."
"Well, it's that and..." Charlie paused before letting out her concern. "I want you to make sure he stays out of trouble."
Jersey said nothing, instead closing his eyes to consider his response. "I fix pipes, install lights, and build houses, Charlotte. I'm no babysitter for some proud prostitution with a serious discipline problem."
"I know you two aren't on the best of terms, but I'll really worried for him. Between him still going to work at the largest porn studio in Pentagram City and the drugs he keeps taking, I don't want him to languish in sin when we can still redeem him."
"Between you and me, I wouldn't bother wasting time on him. Angel is a lewd, incorrigible ass with the maturity of a child a fraction of his age."
"I won't do that." Charlie replied sternly. "It would be a violation of my principles. I can't give up on him."
The look in Jersey's eyes betrayed his lack of surety in his boss' conviction.
"I'm not saying you two will become friends in the span of an afternoon. All the same, this is a good opportunity for both of you to get an important task done while one of you keeps a watchful eye on the other."
Again, Jersey did not answer.
"Please, Jersey? You're someone I can trust to keep Angel on track and not get into a turf war or get high on some garbage from a drug dealer in the streets."
"Okay..." the resident handyman agreed.
"Oh thanks!" Charlie exclaimed. "I owe you one." She soon departed the hallway, moving on to other business.
Alone once more, Jersey could not help but wonder aloud how this shopping trip was going to go "I'll do my damndest to keep him straight, but I won't like it, and neither will he..."
Three minutes later
"I swear, if he doesn't come walking down in the next two minutes, I'm going it alone." Jersey, fully dressed and with a pocket full of money was now waiting at the entrance of the lobby. It was much improved from the wreck it had been reduced to in the aftermath of the riot a few days back.
Jersey was confused as to why it was taking so long for Angel to arrive. All that would be necessary was for the demon in question to put on some clean clothes that fit. He was quickly growing impatient with the continued absence of the porn star.
"Fine. I'll find a retail store on my own. That pervert can walk on his own."
"Sheesh, talk about impatient."
Jersey turned around to face Angel. Upon seeing the porn star's attire, his face contorted as if he had swallowed a lemon.
Angel was not wearing anything remotely masculine. Instead, he was wearing a bright yellow long sleeve shirt which exposed most of his fluffy collarbone. He also wore a matching skirt that barely reached his gangly knees. The ensemble was complete with a pair of brown high heels and a compact yellow purse with white highlights.
It stood in stark contrast to the modest pair of work jeans and green long sleeve shirt that Jersey was wearing.
"What?" Angel asked, genuinely confused at Jersey's face. His exceptional discipline in playing an act before a camera kept him from laughing at the handyman's expense.
"What the hell are you wearing?"
"Hey! I ain't criticizin' you over your borin'-ass outfit."
Jersey sighed, deciding that a confrontation with the perverted sinner over clothes of all things was not worth it. "Alright, fair enough. Compared to what I've seen these past few weeks, this is pretty mundane. I was just surprised."
"Hmph..." Angel grumbled. A part of him was having second thoughts about traveling with Jersey of all demons to get the makeup he needed.
"Alright, lead the way." Jersey added. "I haven't been here long enough to perfectly remember each and every location around here, and I don't know the ideal stores to buy new clothes."
Angel Dust rolled his eyes in acceptance. "We're going to the West Side. North Side's where all those rich pricks get their stuff. Hope ya don't mind taking a cab with me."
"Whatever it takes..." Jersey remarked.
The cab ride was made in stony silence. No effort was made by either hotel patron to branch out. Between Angel Dust's first impression and Jersey's preference to keep things as professional as possible, neither of the two men were in the mood for small talk.
Suddenly, a whirring sound could be heard. Looking to his right, Jersey saw that Angel was messing about with the switch that controlled the car window right next to him. The porn star was giving him a cheeky grin as he moved the window as if it were a plaything.
Jersey merely rolled his eyes and ignored Angel. The driver of the cab was not nearly so patient.
The demon who was chauffeuring them to their destination was cat-like, similarly to Husk, only he was a bright orange color and had a shorter temper. "If you don't stop toying with that window, I swear I'm gonna give you another asshole you fucking filly." He promptly brought up a handgun and removed the safety from it in a show of intimidation.
Angel stopped moving the window as it reached the top of the door frame. Glaring at the driver for the threat and the insult, he began reaching for something under his skirt. When Jersey saw the glint of a knife, he reacted instantly.
Grabbing Angel's arm, he stopped Angel from revealing the weapon. Angel growled quietly under his breath. It was clear he desperately wanted to act, but a fierce glare from Jersey quelled his rage. Angel jerked his arm back and placed the knife back in its hidden holster whilst Jersey shook his head lightly at his fellow passenger's initial reaction.
Eventually, after twenty minutes of driving, they arrived at their destination.
The cat-like driver turned his head sourly as he maneuvered his vehicle towards the sidewalk. "Alright you fags, give me my goddamn money and fuck off."
One bright side was that both Angel and Jersey had a shared animosity towards their driver. With Angel tossing a few bills, the two acquaintances stepped out of the cab, with Jersey following Angel. They soon found themselves out on the local strip, with plenty of retail stores to choose from.
"What an asshole..." Jersey commented.
"That, we can agree on." Angel added.
"So, where do you get clothes around here?"
Angel shrugged noncommittally. "There's a couple of places. We can go to Mammon's Emporium, but all they have is overpriced shit. Best bet for everything ya want is Voxmart."
"I thought the North side was where the expensive stuff was?" Jersey inquired.
"It is, but Mammon's the demon of greed. He's always overpricing his crap. So Voxmart's the place to go."
Looking off to the side, Jersey saw the massive store in question. It was siting all by itself, free from competition from any nearby stores. As a supermarket, it looked to be twice as tall as the average department store. From afar, it looked intimidating with its dark concrete walls and the leering, neon smile of what looked like a tv screen with a toothy grin and mismatched, psychotic eyes. Jersey assumed that the logo was either the mascot of the store or the face of the owner.
"So, we're heading there?"
"Yup."
"Not much of a talker today, are you?"
"Not much to talk about, baby."
Jersey pinched his brow and sighed. This was going to be a long morning. Any further consideration on the hostility between the two hotel patrons was broken up by a voice he had not heard in weeks.
"Angie?" Whipping around, the two men saw Cherri Bomb beginning to jog down the street towards them.
Her fuse-like ponytail was present, but her outfit had been changed. Her top was a red, wooly jacket over a red tank top with a bright, cream colored X that sat just left of center. She also wore a black skirt that, surprisingly, was not in a disreputable state. To finish off the ensemble was a pair of red and white sneakers and black socks that went just up past her ankles.
"Hey, Cher!" Angel greeted enthusiastically. The two briefly hugged each other. "What're you doin' in the shoppin' district?"
"Getting a few groceries." She noticed who Angel was with. "Jersey? Is that you?"
"That's me." He affirmed with a lopsided grin.
"Wait, you know this prick?" Angel asked.
Cherri snickered for a bit. "Yeah, I met this guy on his first day down here. Wasn't I just a great welcoming committee, Jers?" The cycloptic bomber gave a smile that was overly pleasant.
Jersey let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "You threw a bomb at me when I asked for directions to a hotel."
Angel began laughing in a wheezing manner at the statement.
"Yup! Good times, good times." Cherri made a point of wrapping her arms around both men.
Angel fought back some of his laughing so he could speak. "Oh fuck! That sounds like you alright."
"So, what're you two shoppin' for?"
"Eh, I just need more makeup for my routine at Val's."
Jersey noticed Cherri wincing slightly at the mention of the word "Val." When she relaxed and turned her solitary gaze towards him, he shrugged.
"Clothes. My wardrobe is quite limited right now."
"Well, maybe we can do the whole buyin' spree together." Cherri suggested. "I ain't just a gal looking to blow somethin' up, ya know."
"Sure." Angel said. "The more the merrier, ain't that right, Jersey?"
"No problems with me. Just don't use me as target practice for your explosives."
Cherri chuckled briefly. "I guess I can do that."
Soon the three were on their way to Voxmart.
At the moment, most of the small talk was directed at Cherri. It related to her efforts at gaining more territory.
"Eh, it's been pretty quiet. Got a few extra square blocks, and I showed that scaly edge lord what happens when he tries throwing his toys at the wrong bitch." She stated proudly.
Angel could not help but bring up the incident over a week ago. "The hotel had to deal wit' anotha' scaly asshole just a couple days ago. He and a buncha nazis and commie dipshits tried to tear tha' place up."
"Nazis and communists?" Cherri asked, her one eye squinting in befuddlement.
"Long story short, he was a radio host, and he used his... unsavory clientele to attack the hotel. Wanted to take down Alastor and declare himself the new Radio Demon." Jersey filled in the blanks. "It didn't work out for him."
"Wait, you guys met the Radio Demon?!" Cherri exclaimed.
"Hang on, you know about the guy?" Angel asked.
"Yeah?" Cherri replied as if the answer was obvious. "I gotta keep on my toes when dealin' with the big players in this shithole city."
Jersey sighed, glad to hear that Cherri was thinking in such a sensible manner. "I try to avoid him as much as possible. Half the time he looks my way, I swear he's scheming on how to get my head served on a silver platter."
"Jeez, you're just as paranoid as that Spanish bitch Charlie's fuckin'." Angel replied.
Jersey glared his way. "If you had been through even half of the shit I had to endure just to get to the hotel we're staying in, you'd be just as skeptical as I am about every new person you met."
Angel was not impressed.
"I'm telling you," Jersey continued, "the man's a lunatic with the ability to crush you with some cursed power at a moment's notice."
Angel snickered. "Didn't realize you were scared of some fruity lookin' pimp with a microphone."
Cherri snorted at Angel's description of the Radio Demon.
Jersey's frown deepened. "Do you ever take anything remotely seriously?"
"Take me to the nearest sex hotel, and you'll find out. Or better yet, you could drop by my room for a special 'pipe cleanin' service.'" Angel commented with lust in his dichromatic eyes.
"And this is why I don't like having conversations with you." Jersey said.
Angel merely laughed at Jersey's prudish proclivities.
Cherri Bomb sensed that her mutual friend and unconventional acquaintance were not on the best of terms. Her one eye passed warily between them, hoping their disagreements did not come to blows.
The trio of shoppers was now merely a block away from the Voxmart. All that they needed to do was move through a final crosswalk to reach the massive department store. Several yards away, a group of bikers were smoking cigarettes and talking about their day.
Cherri gave a vicious smirk as she sensed an opportunity to give an explosive surprise to the unaware demons. Reaching into her jacket, she pulled out a cherry bomb and prepared to light its fuse. A pale hand forcefully grabbed her by the wrist. Cherri looked at the owner of the hand with a growl.
Jersey was glaring at her nearly as fiercely as the first time they met.
"Don't." Jersey warned.
When Cherri tried to wrench her arm out of Jersey's grasp, he pulled her in closer. The fiery glaze in his eyes stifled her effort. Trying not to look scared, Cherri put the bomb back into the pocket she took it from.
"Buzzkill..." She said sourly.
"What?" Angel asked, too distracted by a notification on his Hellphone to notice the interaction.
"Jersey's a fucking buzzkill." Cherri growled. "It was just a couple of biker douches. Figured it'd be funny."
"I don't care if it would be funny. I'm not getting dragged into a fight sparked by either one of you. Angel and I are here to shop, not get in a goddamn scrap." Jersey asserted. "If that means I have to babysit two grown ass adults, then I'm afraid that's the way it's gonna be."
"Ya see what I hafta deal with?" Angel complained as they got the green signal to begin walking. "He's such a borin' asshole."
Jersey gave a sardonic grin. "Aww, that's probably the nicest thing you've said about me. You know, I think those rehab lessons are doing wonders for you."
Angel gave rude gestures to Jersey with two of his free hands.
The Voxmart was titanic in its scope. Five stories high, it had no shortage of merchandise and goods to sell. The first floor was largely divided between grocery shopping and a corporate pharmacy, which was tucked into the left third of the first floor.
Floors two and three were composed of were largely fashion and clothing. Purses, pants, and more besides were all for sale. Some brands were apparently inspired from Goetia demons who had enough financial backing to place their names on the products, while other brands were little more than clever word plays on mortal properties.
On the fourth floor, a sporting section was open with goods dedicated to fishing, hockey, archery, and other activities. Strangely, the sports section was right across from cosmetics and other toiletries used for skin care and hygiene.
The fifth floor was populated with electronics and office supplies. Tablets and phones were the most popular items, although video games, televisions, and watches were also for sale.
Strangely enough, a basement section beneath the first floor displayed furniture. The back of the Voxmart likewise had a large warehouse of mattresses, chairs, windows, and other objects which would be used to ship or unload furniture for customers or housing firms. The basement floor was little more than a grand display case that people could walk through and have some level of interaction with. Actual products to be sold were transported or offloaded in the back, away from the front parking lot.
All of the merchandise and goods present were for the taking, assuming you had the money. It was telling that a "Steal at your own fucking risk!" sign was present at the front of the store to remind people that greed was only allowed by those who had the money to get away with it.
"I can hang out with you boys until I have to buy shit for my fridge." Cherri commented.
Angel, leading the way, gave a wide grin of appreciation. "It's always a blast with you around sugar-tits."
"So, I assume you know where your makeup will be?" Jersey asked.
"Fourth floor." Angel spoke bluntly. "You can find ya clothes at the third floor."
"Convenient." Jersey replied.
The three soon reached a central hub of elevator shafts that could carry eight different parties up and down the supermarket. Monopolizing the use of one elevator, they made their way to the third floor. Jersey tentatively stepped out, looking over the area.
"So, where's the men's-" his comment was interrupted by a rough shove from behind. He barely a managed to stay on his feet, turning about to see a cackling Angel and a giggling Cherri Bomb.
"Don't wait up on me, Mr. Pipe Cleaner!" The elevator doors closed, cutting off the laughter coming from inside the compartment.
Jersey glared as the elevator moved up. If he was especially irritable, he might have tried to teleport inside the elevator to scare the demon who unceremoniously pushed him on his way.
Instead, he growled under his breath, shaking his head.
"Angel you jackass." Jersey muttered.
The elevator promptly reached the fourth floor, with Cherri Bomb and Angel Dust still snickering over the mild prank they pulled on him. He knew where the makeup department was, so he easily navigated his way towards the products of his choice while engaging in a bit of catch-up with the closest friend he had in Hell.
"Ha ha, it's about time Jersey stopped being such a fuckin' cold fish." Angel commented as his mirthful attitude died down.
"Yeah, he ain't the kind of guy that really goes with the flow. Must be because he's new to this place." Cherri said.
"By the way," Angel inquired, "how'd you two meet exactly?"
Cherri shrugged. "It's pretty much like Jers said. It was the morning after the Extermination. He wanted a roof over his shoulder, so he asked me when we crossed paths. I didn't think too much about it, thought he was just some know-nothing bit of fresh meat tryin' to give me orders. So I gave him a Cherri special." Her one brow wriggled in amusement.
Angel's toothy grin only curled up more as he heard the story. "And then what?"
"He just... took the explosion, like it was nothing."
Angel's smile faltered. He made a double take, and even went so far as to try to clean out one of his ears to make sure he did not mishear his friend. "He what?"
"The bomb literally blew up in his hand, and he just brushed himself off like he had just gotten up from fallin' on the ground." Cherri recounted, not sure how else to describe Jersey's unnatural resiliency.
"Wait, are you just fuckin' wit' me?" Cherri's bombs were not just harmless pranks. Even her most common explosives could blast the roof off of a building and make a city block look like a smoldering war-zone. No ordinary sinner could take such a hit and not wind up injured.
"I'm not joking." Cherri insisted, her tone sounding serious to Angel's mild astonishment. "He manhandled me after I gave him his welcoming gift. Pinned me against a wall, too, wanted me to cut the shit and tell him where he could find a hotel or something like that."
Angel's eyes narrowed in fury. "That motherfuckin' bastard." He turned back towards the elevator to give Jersey a piece of his mind and a knife in his stomach, but Cherri stopped him.
"Whoa." She warned. "We don't have to make this a bigger deal than it was. This was weeks ago, Angie."
"It doesn't matta'." Angel insisted defensively. "Nobody hurts my best pal." Cherri held fast, keeping Angel from moving any closer to the elevator.
"You haven't even heard the whole story. After I told him about the Princess' place, he apologized to me and patched me up."
"Patched you up?" Angel asked.
"Yeah. He just waved his hand and after some sparkly crap came off of it, I felt better after he pushed me against the wall."
Angel was perplexed. Some demons had unusual and terrifying abilities, but he had never heard of one who could use their power to heal. "Jersey can heal people?"
Cherri shrugged again, unable to explain why. "I'm just tellin' ya from the bitch's mouth."
Angel turned his gaze back to the elevator, now considering whether or not he wanted to shiv Jersey for his first and less than friendly interaction with Cherri. Her expanded reasoning gave him second thoughts.
"The guy can be an asshole," Cherri said, "but how many demons do you know that would heal people without asking for a shit-ton of money or something?"
Angel had no answer.
"Just let it go. Don't ya have to get your makeup, Angie?"
"Yeah... I guess I do." Angel and Cherri both walked towards the cosmetics section, with the former still staring at the elevator door with a considerate look on his face.
So far, the search for new clothes had gone quite well for Jersey. He had purchased five new sets of makeshift work clothes: black t-shirts and high quality jeans meant to be resilient and labor friendly. He had also taken it upon himself to acquire more casual clothes, including three night shirts, two pairs of khakis, a wide variety of outgoing clothes, and pajamas. He had also gotten a new pair of shoes, multiple pairs of socks, and even some sandals on the rare chance he could go to a beach.
He had a whole cart load of clothing ready for purchase. The only thing now was to regroup with his company of two sinners. That was a less than pleasant proposition.
Jersey sighed, trying to look past Angel Dust's abrasive behavior. 'We are almost done. Just grin and bear it, and you can stay the hell away from him if you can help it.' The reasoning he had was flawed, for he would still be living within proximity of the porn star either way. At the very least, he could keep conflict between them to a minimal.
Moving himself and his cart to one of the elevators, he moved up to the fourth floor to see if he could catch up with Angel and Cherri. With luck, the trip would be over shortly, even with Cherri Bomb's grocery run.
"Surely it won't take long to get some makeup." Jersey reasoned to himself.
The fourth floor was not too dissimilar to third, the primary distinction being a sports section that had everything from sporting equipment to gym shorts. The latter especially interested Jersey, as he loved loose fitting, comfortable clothing whenever he was not working.
He promptly grabbed three pairs of gym shorts as well as some specialized boxers that wicked moisture away from the body. Jersey was quite content with his overall selection of clothing.
"Well, I can't say that I didn't get what I wanted." He commented proudly to himself. "I should have some money leftover after all of this."
Focused on catching up with Angel and Cherri again, Jersey found himself about to leave the sports section through a fishing isle. He could have continued onward if not for a special sale on a fishing pole.
It was a solid black, carbon fiber fishing rod that was on sale for only fifty dollars. It was not overly expensive, and it would suit Jersey's needs. He had loved fishing as a pastime ever since the days after the Revolutionary War. It kept his mind off of the harsh reality of his life as a recluse and a man deprived of his humanity. The last time he had cast a line in a body of water was nearly three months ago.
With a sale on a new rod present, Jersey simply could not help himself.
Shopping was equally easy on Angel, too. He made sure to get plenty of fur-conducive foundation. Not every sinner could put makeup on smooth skin, so hairier demons had the option of a makeup that could easily be brushed into their fur without being difficult to wash off. Likewise, he gathered multiple bottles of his favorite brand of mascara, restocked his makeup pads, and gathered three different shades of blush. Once he got some different types of eyeliner, Angel would be good to go.
"Thanks for hangin' around, sugar tits. I know this ain't the most exciting thing ever, but... I don't get to hang out that often, between work and all."
Cherri gave a softer type of smile than she usually wore on most occasions. "Doesn't matter how intense the party is, just as long as it's you and me, Angie."
They were about to reach the end of a makeup isle where eyeliner brands were displayed. Angel had already pinpointed the colors he was hoping to purchase, and was reaching for a striking violet selection when he heard an unpleasant Bronx accent.
"Well, well, well," said the voice, "look at what we have here, Mako." Strutting forward menacingly was a hammer headed shark demon in a tan suit overtop a dark dress shirt and dark pants. A thin cigarette was in his sharp mouth.
His companion, who was shorter, slimmer, and sporting a standard shark head, joined him to his right hand side. Similarly dressed, he had a little scar over his nose, one of the few physical characteristics that was leftover from when Mako's human life ended and his existence in Hell began.
"It's Valentino's favorite cock sleeve." Stark, the hammer headed one spoke with contempt. He made a point of pulling his cigarette out of his mouth before spitting at the porn star's feet.
Mako gave a much more transparent glare of hatred at Angel. "Last time we saw you, you pumped us all full o' lead. Thought you could back out of a deal, eh filly boy?"
"Awful shame that those bullets ain't holy. We just got up through a lead induced coma thanks to you." Stark continued.
"We had ta patch ourselves up by goin' to some quack and bribin' him to get the bullets outta our fuckin' flesh. It wasn't some little bit o' cash neitha'. And in all of dat shit, gettin' sharp things stabbed into our guts, we were reminded of you." Mako stepped forward once, his teeth were now bared maliciously.
"Now, we'd say that this wasn't personal, but, technically speakin', that wouldn't be true, Angie." Stark sneered.
Angel kept calm, even as he noticed that there was no way to move past either of them. He was also only armed with the knife under his skirt. Cherri, who was always prepared for the average day to go pear-shaped, made sure to keep one hand hidden behind her back, ready to throw a smoke bomb to distract the two literal loan sharks.
"Fellas," Angel spoke, his voice deceptively calming in tone. "wit' all due respect, it was a deal that I was goin' outta my way to do for Mistah Valentino. Last time I checked, I wasn't the one who drew guns on the otha' party just because he showed that the money was good. I was just actin' in self-defense, just as you would be entitled to do if the shoe was on the otha' foot."
Mako and Stark did not look as if they cared about the context of the deal that sparked their sense of animosity towards Angel Dust. The aforementioned spider demon continued.
"I got no beef with you fellas, so if you would just leave me to my shoppin', we can all go home without incident. It was a bad business deal. No need for things to get personal."
Mako laughed sharply. "You're in no position to bargain, dumbass."
"Angie." Cherri warned, poking at Angel's back.
Turning his head, Angel noticed a third loan shark blocking any hope of retreat down the aisle of makeup.. This one was not dressed as formally as his two compatriots, wearing jeans and a plain white shirt with old bloodstains around the sleeves and collar. He was larger than the other two loan sharks, with a body riddled with muscle and a murderous gleam in his crimson eyes. He crossed his arms with a cocky grin as he left Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb surrounded.
"Now, let's get to it." Stark drew up a pair of brass knuckles on one of his hands, eager to turn the porn star's face into a bloody pulp.
Angel Dust gulped heavily, but did not let his anxiety be known. As he reached his lower right arm for his hidden knife, Cherri got ready to throw a smoke bomb directly in the largest loan shark's face.
"What's this, then?"
Everyone glanced in the direction of the voice. Angel, given the circumstances, was quite happy to hear a familiar voice, even if it belonged to a man who was almost his opposite.
Jersey had pushed his cart full of clothing, and a fishing rod up to the open space just outside the eyeliner section. He glanced analytically over the situation, eventually placing his gaze on the nearest loan shark, Mako.
"We were just in da middle of dealin' with an old grudge, pal. Get lost before one of us has ta put you in the fuckin' ground."
"What grudge?"
Mako drew a switchblade knife, raising the tension in the aisle up considerably. "This faggot shot us ta shit when we was doin' a deal wit' him weeks back. He ain't gonna get away wit' it."
"This ain't a concern for you." Stark added with a warning tone in his voice. "Piss off if ya don't wanna get hurt."
"Well, unfortunately for you," Jersey replied, "I promised someone I'd get that particular sinner home, preferably in one piece. Now I don't know the specifics of the deal that turned sour and made you wanna turn Angel here into a bloody mess, but can't we talk this out?"
"Fuck off!" Mako growled, his accent getting heavier as he became angrier. "Dis ain't your concern. Unless you wanna be the first one to get my little letta' opena' stabbed in ya belly."
The larger loan shark just feet away from Cherri Bomb cracked his knuckles in anticipation of a brawl. Whatever calm remained was falling apart at the seams.
Jersey quickly thought of a way to get the loan sharks to back off. If necessary, he could throw hands, but he did not want to draw attention to himself with a fight in a public space. There was also the fact that Charlotte made him promise to be less confrontational. Defending the hotel against a mob was one thing. Getting involved with a sordid affair made by Angel Dust was quit another thing.
"And what would Valentino think if you put the hurting on Angel Dust?"
Stark blinked several times, not expecting such a question. He addressed Jersey, but the slight bit of uncertainty in his voice proved that Jersey had just come up with a good bargaining tactic.
"What are you talkin' about?"
"Valentino. Angel Dust works for him. Makes a lot of money for him from what I hear. Imagine how angry he'd be if his most lucrative employee was found beaten to death in a Voxmart of all places."
Stark's red eyes flitted back and forth between Mako and Jersey, perhaps silently asking for Mako to come up with a good rebuttal. He was sorely disappointed to see that his fellow demon looked just as nervous about Jersey's hypothetical prediction.
"Unless you have the money to buy off every news station and newspaper in Pentagram City, the word will get out: famous porn star murdered by loan sharks in busy shopping center. Valentino would probably have a bounty in your heads before you could say 'Fuck me.'"
Angel was simply watching the spectacle. Part of him felt cold that his relationship with the Overlord of the porn industry was being brought up by an acquaintance. At the same time, seeing the loan sharks look shit-scared forced him to keep any laughter he had to himself.
Cherri looked no better. She had placed a hand over her mouth, trying to restrain her giggles at the sudden change of tone.
Jersey, satisfied that he had made a convincing argument to end further hostilities, continued. "If you have a grudge against Angel, bring it up with Valentino. That's assuming that he hasn't already been punished for what he did. Killing Angel might feel satisfying in the short term, but given the reality of what his death will cause in the long term, just quit while you're ahead. What do you say?"
Stark looked considerable for a moment. He finally nodded his head, putting his knuckles back in his pockets. Mako let out a petulant growl before sheathing his knife. Even the largest loan shark in the back relaxed and took two steps away from Angel and Cherri.
"Don't think we're gonna forgive you, ya fuckin' cocksucker." Stark growled before he quickly shuffled with Mako away from the scene. Soon, only the three shopping companions were left at the end of the eyeliner section.
"Angel."
"Yeah?"
"...You okay?"
Angel seemed to realize that he looked a bit too vulnerable for his liking. He tried to puff himself up, making a point to accentuate his fluffy bosom.
"Psh, yeah. If those dipshits got any closer, I'd 'ave shank 'em with this." He brandished his knife from earlier. "Besides, Cherri had my back the whole time."
Cherri gave a knowing grin. "Like I said, doesn't matter what the party is. It's always a good time with you." She gave a light punch to the spider demon's shoulder.
Jersey merely shrugged off the apparent front. "Good. You have everything you need, Angel?"
The porn star realized that he had been distracted from getting his eyeliners. He promptly gathered up a few bottles of the substance and gave a swaggering affirmative.
"We can go back down to the grocery section and finish off the trip. Didn't you say you needed food, Ms. Cherri?"
"Miss?" Cherri asked, almost insulted." What do I look like, a school teacher? And yes, I do."
"Then let's make for the elevator before someone up tries to take revenge on one of you for a past slight."
"Hey! I was only defendin' myself. Whatever that snaggle-toothed jerk-off said ain't true!"
"Whatever you say, Angel Dust..." Just as before, there was no point in arguing the point.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, much to Jersey's relief. Cherri Bomb's primary needs were essentials such as milk, eggs, coffee, bread, and a few of her favorite snacks. It was not too heavy for her to carry when she went to check out her purchases.
Angel's bundles of makeup were likewise not particularly cumbersome. Carrying the colorful cargo was made all the more lenient by the fact that Angel had at least four hands to carry his bags.
Jersey had the most to carry, with eight bags worth of clothing and a single fishing rod. However, his fingers were quite strong, and one pair of the bags could be looped over his wrists, using the other bags to prevent it from slipping off the ends of his clenched hands.
The resident fixer-upper man of the Hazbin Hotel looked quite odd carrying his new attire in such a way, but he hardly cared. He had finally expanded his desperately narrow range of attires.
"So... why do ya have a fishin' rod?" Angel inquired.
"One of my hobbies in my old life was fishing. Figured that if I ever got the chance to head to a pond, I could indulge myself." Jersey explained.
"Boring." Cherri commented offhandedly.
"You have your hobbies, I have mine."
Cherri eventually chuckled after a time. "Yeah. Hey, you got a Hellphone, Mr. Plumber?"
"As a matter of fact I do."
"Let's exchange numbers." Cherri suggested.
"Oh?" Jersey asked. "You sure you want a buzzkill on your contact list?"
"Ha ha..." Cherri laughed sarcastically. "Just let me give you my number."
"Hold on. My hands are occupied." Jersey reasoned as he gently lowered the shopping bags gripped in his right hand.
"Oh my..." Angel said suggestively.
"Piss off, Angel." Jersey said, though the insult lacked maliciousness. He grabbed up his Hellphone, only to have its hatched out of his hand by Cherri the moment he unlocked the screen.
With a rapid combination of finger pressing and keyboard typing, the contact number of the most pyrotechnic sinner in Pentagram City was in the possession of one of the most straight-laced sinners in Hell.
When the Hellphone was returned to his grip, he noticed that the name inscribed over the number given to him was 'Bomber Bitch.' The crudeness of the title aside, he wanted to make sure that it wasn't a fake number to pull him by the proverbial leg.
"I'm sending you a text." Jersey said.
"Sure." Cherri answered casually. Seconds later, she presented the exact text for Jersey on her own Hellphone. She then promptly used the text to make a new contact in turn.
Looking up, she noticed Jersey typing on his phone again. "Whatcha doing?"
"Editing your name."
"To what?" She asked suspiciously.
Jersey soon revealed that he merely changed the contact name to Cherri Bomb. "I won't degrade you by tossing around some vulgar name like that. Besides, your real name is fine." He soon put his phone away and carefully reached back down to grip the rest of his bags.
"Ooh, 'fine' you say?" Cherri asked, trying to sound cheeky. "That almost sounded like a flirt, Jers."
"What can I say, I am a consumate expert in the art of referring to people by their real names."
Cherri looked at Jersey funny, then shook her head, amused. "You're one weird guy."
"Oh my." Jersey replied in jest. "Between buzzkill and pasty ass, that almost sounded like a compliment. Didn't realize my charms worked so quickly on you."
Cherri flipped him the bird, whilst Angel Dust began to laugh at the farcical nature of the interaction going on.
"Oh shit! Didn't realize this trip would be a fuckin' riot! Ha ha ha ha!" Angel almost lost the ability to breathe because of his laughing.
"You should be grateful we got our purchases in one piece." Jersey remarked.
"What's the afterlife without a little risk?" Angel retorted.
"An afterlife with a lower risk of being stabbed by some random criminal?"
"Eh." Ange shrugged.
Cherri soon found herself chuckling at the banter between her best friend and her latest phone contact. "Okay boys, I think I'm gonna head on back to my turf. Don't kill each other, okay?"
"Well, nice seein' ya again, sugar tits!" Angel waved goodbye with one free hand.
"You take care of yourself, Cherri." Jersey replied sedately as he gave a toothless grin.
"When do I ever not, Jers? See ya boys!" Cherri began to swagger down the street where a bus stop was located.
Angel, meanwhile, waved down another cab. He soon thought about the surplus of clothes that would have to be put into the car. "So, how do we do this?"
The cab ride was completed with Jersey riding alone in the back while Angel rode shotgun with their cab driver. Jersey had to bribe the driver to have Angel up front, but it was a modest amount of money that was sacrificed to make sure the journey home was not claustrophobic for the seductive sinner who accompanied Jersey's shopping spree.
Much to Jersey's relief, Angel kept to himself and apparently chose not to do anything that might otherwise provoke their driver. The two male sinners eventually stepped out in front of the Hazbin Hotel, with everything that they bought still in their literal grasps.
"I gotta say," Angel Dust said, "that wasn't an entirely shitty errand."
"That's because you had me to talk down those shark demons who wanted to turn your head into a bloody pulp."
"I told you I had-"
"Everything under control, I know. But I made a promise to Charlotte that nothing like that turf war happen while we were out, so you'll have to forgive me if I come across as high-handed."
Angel looked at Jersey as they slowly approached the front door. "You really are takin' her rehab things seriously."
"Yes. I don't want to betray Charlotte's trust." Jersey elaborated.
"How the hell did you wind up down here? You're a fuckin' goody two shoes for what I've seen."
The remark was followed with a long silence as Jersey stopped just a ste behind Angel. His sickly green eyes were staring down at the ground in retrospection.
"Maybe I'll tell you how much my ledger is filled with blood. Until then, I suggest you learn to appreciate what Charlotte has given to the both of us." Jersey turned to level a pointed stare into Angel's eyes. "She's provided us with housing, utilities, and other things for comparatively little cost on our part. She even thinks you have the potential to go to Heaven."
Angel said nothing, perhaps too occupied with trying to keep up the persona he had built for decades.
"Just try to make an effort to be better. It may just get me to respect you." Jersey reasoned with a dry undertone.
"Yeah yeah. Whatever you say, Saint Jersey." Angel remarked sarcastically as he opened the door.
Soon, the street was empty, with a sense that at least one relationship was not completely frosty at the Hazbin Hotel.
"I wonder what dear little Niffty will be concocting for lunch..." Alastor pondered aloud. Yet again, he was having an afternoon constitutional, with a signature smile on his ashen face.
He was only three blocks away from the Hazbin Hotel, a place that would soon become a secondary residence for him. The fiasco with Pete. R. Tizan highlighted the necessity that Alastor ought to be close by if the hotel ever needed protection. Some of his personal affects would be relocated to a room of his choosing, allowing the Radio Demon to comfortably take up residence at the business he was so invested in helping.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a poster that he had not seen before. It was an advert for an independent handy man who could do plumbing and electrical work. This sounded all too familiar, especially given the fact that Jersey had recently been gifted a Hellphone by Princess Charlie herself.
"Didn't realize that our latest employee wanted to extend the reach of his services. Most interesting." Alastor mulled with a gleam in his blood red eyes.
One of his personal shadow familiars slithered out from underneath the shade of his own slim form. It had been summoned forth with a mere thought, and awaited its master's bidding.
"Go to Miss Rosie and let her know I have a very special and highly recommended handy man who would be perfect for her emporium. His number is right here." Alastor presented the professionally made paper advert so that his servant could tell this number to the woman in question.
"As she owes me, I hope she can act as a potential... conversation starter. I'm sure she would be just as interested as I am in understanding our mutual enigma."
The shadow nodded with an impish smile, then hurriedly slithered down the road to the sinner whom Alastor spoke of.
Alone in the street, he pantomimed a quote from his latest reading subject.
"If you know your foes, and you know yourself, then you need not fear the result of a hundred battles." He recited mirthfully.
"Quite the mind." Alastor observed with a chuckle. "I can't wait to see just who our friend really is."
I was almost afraid I wouldn't be able to add this chapter in time. These past few weeks have been difficult. Long story short, issues with someone dear to me have made it a struggle to make a suitable chapter within my promised three week gap. If there are discrepancies in this chapter, by all means inform me, and I will promptly update it with the necessary edits.
I wanted to make a more fleshed out interaction between Jersey and Angel Dust in particular. This chapter was that attempt, and I look forward to delving more into the dichotomy of these two, especially given the context of Angel's situation as an "employee" of Valentino. I want to build it up sufficiently, so don't expect Angel and Jersey to become friends in a short time.
To quickly answer a few questions of interest:
1) Is Jersey going to become an Overlord?
Frankly, Jersey would gain nothing from doing so. Even though he has the power to be a major player in Pentagram City, he is not interested in playing power games with any of the more influential sinners in Hell. Doing so would only attract more attention that he doesn't need.
2) Any comment on the power scaling from High School DxD (aka, is Jersey on the level of Sirzechs Lucifer?)
I'm less interested in power scaling as it tells little about a character beyond how big an explosion they can cause with a certain application of their given powers/abilities. I am going to focus on Jersey's skills on his origin story, The Chronicles of Benjamin Leeds, which you can find in the High School DxD category of fanfics on this sight. You are welcome to read it if you wish, though I am focusing a bit more on Hazbin Hotel stuff for the moment.
As always, thank you all very much for your favoriting and following. I hope to see you guys next time.