2:07 pm
Alastor was in the midst of dialing a number he had not contacted in years. Privately, he had a rare twinge of trepidation given the visceral relationship he had with the owner of said number. At the same time, a burning urge of nostalgia, more powerful than his hesitation, drove him to make the call. It was further supported by the fact that he had assured Rosie that he would return to socializing with a very certain someone whom he considered a dear friend.
He was not about to go back on that promise.
Sighing with a buzz of radio interference, Alastor concluded the dialing and braced himself for the phone to be picked up. It was still somewhat early in the afternoon, so she would not be terribly busy with her kind of work. For once, his dark pit of a heart dared to beat faster, very much unlike how he would act whilst resorting to his customary talents with terror and butchery.
'Already, I almost regret doing this.' Alastor mentally groaned. 'As talented and respectable as the woman can be, she is quite overwhelming.'
Finally, a high pitched, Brooklyn accented woman answered the phone.
"Hello, this is Mimzy."
"Hello, my dear." Alastor replied. His tone was unusually soft: a fondness that he reserved for few.
Aside from a gasp of recognition, silence answered him. Seconds later, Mimzy spoke again, her voice barely a whisper and heavy with emotion.
"Ally-cat?"
Alastor personally hated the nickname, but it evoked memories of a beloved, simpler time. "Yes Mimzy, it is I, Alastor, the greatest Radio Demon of all time." He announced with some boldness.
"Oh, Ally-cat!" Mimzy cooed. "It's so good to hear from ya again!"
"I missed hearing your voice too, dear Mimzy." It was indeed one of the few things outside of radio broadcasts, cooking his mother's personal recipes, and tormenting lesser beings with insufferable jokes that filled him with actual happiness.
"Now where in the damn Circle of Pride have you been, mistah?!" The anger in her voice was so powerful, Alastor had to recoil from the phone in his hand. "Nearly three decades, no cawlin' me back, and nothin' but ya radio program to show that you were okay! Why did ya just up and leave me out to dry, Alastor?!"
The fact that she had used his proper name confirmed her anger was no act. Shame, another rare emotion, actually welled up to the Radio Demon's face. In another unusual occurrence, Alastor appeared mildly flushed, his normally ashen grey cheeks beginning to show pink.
'I thought I was prepared for this.' He wondered grimly.
He repositioned the phone closer to his ear. Deep down, Alastor was gambling that she would not burst his eardrums when he gave a forthcoming response.
"I won't make any excuses." He replied firmly. "I was caught up in my own obsession with finding a new outlet for my talents. You know how my broadcasts were stagnating in views even back then. The public desired something fresh, and I toiled for years upon years struggling and failing to come up with a fresh spark of entertainment."
"But did ya hafta cut ya self off from me, Ally? I would've been more than happy to lend ya a hand!" Mimzy argued.
Alastor did not hide a sigh of breath as he got to the point of of Mimzy's question. "I neglected you all for my own selfish desire to restore the popularity of my program. I cut myself off from you, and to a lesser extent Rosie because I valued my own broadcast over... the only two friends that I have in this wretched hole of a City."
"Alastor..."
"You know I'm as impulsive and disinclined to accept charity as much as any other man. My primary income is based on my audience reach, and I thought I could handle it alone. I do apologize for having waited this long to give you the courtesy of any interaction, my dear old friend."
There was a pause on the other end of the call. Alastor considered asking if Mimzy was still on the line, but he was soon answered.
"Do ya mean it, Ally-cat?"
"I would not blame you for casting me aside for my poor treatment of our friendship. You are... a very admirable woman, Mimzy. You do deserve better company than some miserable materialist like myself. After all these years, I wanted to say... I'm most sorry for the lack of interaction. I just wished to set the record straight, no matter your response."
Once again, silence filled the conversation. Then, sniffling and teary hiccups could be heard on the other end of the line.
"Oh Ally-cat..." Mimzy said, overcome with delight. "I forgive ya. Just hearin' you again, it makes my heart soar!"
"Glad to hear of it."
Mimzy could barely contain her excitement. "We hafta get togetha' again! Ooh! Maybe we could invite Rosie, too! Just tha three of us, like old times!"
Alastor could not help but shiver at the possibility. Rosie would doubtless take the opportunity to humor Mimzy's romantic inclinations towards him. He would rather not be alone in what would be the first time in decades that he would have a friendly outing with a woman who still had amorous feelings for him. Besides, this was the best opportunity to invite Jersey into his web of alliances and power-mongering.
"Actually, my dear, I would like to add a fourth guest to this outing."
"A fourth person? Ally-cat... have you been wit' otha' women behind my back?" Mimzy asked in an accusatory manner.
"Hardly Mimzy." Alastor insisted. "The person I am talking about is a gentleman. He is also someone whom Rosie has met before."
"I didn't know you had guy friends outside of Husky."
Alastor permitted a chuckle, for he knew the relationship between the caustic cat demon and himself was far from friendly or conventional. "Call this man a rare exception. He's a bright chap, and quite the hard worker. His profession is a handyman, mostly working on plumbing and electrical matters."
"Really? What's his name?"
"Jersey. He's a relatively new arrival, but he's acclimated himself quite well to Pentagram City. I'd be willing to introduce you to him, and he could offer his future services to your business."
"Hmm... Well, I suppose it's nice you're gettin' out and makin' new pals. Aright Ally-cat, I'll have the best VIP table set aside, just for us!"
"How's tomorrow evening, 5:30 sound?" Alastor asked, summoning a timetable to ensure he would not have any conflicts with the proposed arrival time.
"Perfect!" Mimzy squealed in excitement. "Although... do Rosie and... Jersey know about this party?"
"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Niffty." Alastor tutted with customary charm. "They will be more than eager to see the finest lady in entertainment performing at the Hell's Raising Lounge."
"Oh Alastor, you just know how ta buttah me up!"
"Ha ha ha..." Alastor's blood red eyes lost their usual confident air, instead glancing at the newly written timetable with fondness that was rarely felt in any capacity. "I suppose you always were my butter half."
Mimzy groaned at the pun. "That is the Ally-cat I know."
"What I say is true, my old friend. It makes me... reminisce, hearing your voice again." His tone had no radio-like buzz to speak of. It was the voice of a man who dared to remember his sinful, human life, and of the bright spots that came with it.
Mimzy sniffled over the line. "Same with you, Alastor."
"We'll doubtless have much to discuss, Mimzy." The Radio Demon said. "I'll look forward to seeing you knock everyone's socks off when you perform. See you tomorrow evening?"
"My pleasure, Al."
"Wonderful. Goodbye, my dear."
"Bye, Ally-cat."
Alastor gently hung up the phone. "Well, that was not so bad. Now, to move my plans forward."
The call was a multi faceted action. Charlie was always looking for new guests, and Mimzy represented a solid candidate. She would certainly be willing to move to the hotel if it meant close proximity to himself. It would not hurt having an old friend close by to balance out the chaos of some of the current guests.
It was also a grand opportunity to inspire a soft alliance between himself and two sinners who were not only on friendly terms with him, but also had their own resources to wield against the likes of the so called Three Vs. Though Mimzy was no Overlord like himself and Rosie, she had money and loyal employees at her disposal.
Finally, any opportunity to lower the guard of Jersey was most welcome. The lad had potential, and if he could be swayed to voluntarily associate as an ally, then Alastor could guarantee his own standing in Hell against the ever rising power of Vox and his associates.
"Now, to inform Rosie and Jersey of the good news!" Alastor dialed the phone again to tell Rosie of the gathering at Mimzy's business.
2:12 pm, Rosie's Emporium
"Thank you very much, Ms. Callie." Rosie bid her latest customer.
"Oh it's no trouble!" Replied the well dressed cadaverous demoness as she left with a wicker basket and fresh sewing supplies. "I'm always looking forward to the latest deals you have Rosie!"
The day had been unusually busy for the aristocratic Overlord. That was no inconvenience for Rosie; it was a welcome sight given the usual lull in business after the cleanse which happened over two and a half months ago. With the surge in customers, Rosie was currently occupying the register, trading places with her usual cashier Douglas. The shadowy little cannibal was acting as a roaming aid, looking over everything on sale to ensure no thievery took place.
A clattering ring from a box phone mounted on the wall nearby alerted Rosie. Taking advantage of the lull in activity, she glided over and answered.
"This is Rosie's Emporium." She purred. "How may I assist you?"
"I've got a swell outing planned for tomorrow evening, and you are invited my dear Rosie." Alastor's voice answered.
"Why Alastor, I'm rather flattered! Although, that arrangement on such short notice... I hope you realize how mildly inconveniencing that is for me."
"Trust me. Tomorrow night is not just for merriment. I have a business arrangement that you cannot possibly resist."
Rosie's eyes narrowed, both intrigued and wary. "Surely you don't think I can just decide on such a deal over a meal and drink." Even as an old friend, she knew Alastor's style as an Overlord. His taste in old fashioned things, and their decades long friendship did not cloud her judgment.
"It's not something sealed with a contract. In fact, it benefits us to not have an official agreement."
Now Rosie was confused. "Explain yourself." She demanded, crossing an arm under her bosom.
There was a telling silence before Alastor spoke. "You'll have to join me for dinner at Club Maribou. Tomorrow night at 5:30."
"That's not good enough. As much as I like Club Maribou, I'm not convinced." Rosie insisted, pressing for details.
"These phone lines have ears." Alastor said knowingly. "Please come and enjoy the evening with me. Mimzy will be saving a table, and I'll be having Mr. Jersey along with us."
"Is that so?" The chance to have a dinner and a show was tempting, but Rosie caught on to the invite of her latest acquaintance. "Why invite Jersey?"
"Why not have a double date?"
"Ha! To think you would fancy yourself an emissary of Cupid. May I remind you I am already married happily to my work?"
"Trust me, he is much more pleasant company than any of my other associates, unless you want to see Husker running up the drinking bill. Or... are you saying you have the stamina to converse with darlin' little Niffty?" Alastor responded.
Rosie had no love for Husker. His crudeness offended her sensibilities the one time she met him after he found himself indebted to the Radio Demon. Niffty was not as intolerable as Alastor made her out to be. All the same, the little maid would be out of place if business was to be discussed over food.
"Are you sure that inviting a newcomer like Jersey is a wise decision?" Rosie pressed. "If confidentiality is a prerequisite, how can any trust be vested in a humble plumber such as him? How do we know he does not have a loose tongue?"
"I know talent when I see one. Far better to attract a rising star like Jersey to our side than to anyone else. Strength and perceptiveness like his is not common in the Pride Ring, let alone Pentagram City." Alastor replied. "Besides, the man is one to keep things close to his chest. If we sell the idea, we can have a fourth partner in future endeavors."
Rosie hummed in thought. "I suppose I can see why you find him intriguing. He is stronger than what he appears, based on how he performed in replacing my plumbing for the emporium. What about that perceptiveness you mentioned?"
"He matched me in a game of chess." Alastor explained. "Jersey was modest about his capabilities, but it showed off a glimmer of strategy. That is an important quality in a wretched world such as this."
Rosie raised an eyebrow, though not out of any impression of awe. Alastor was capable, but no grandmaster. Nevertheless, he was an exceptional judge of character, and he could read others with terrifying precision.
"Very well Alastor, I'll humor your little gamble. It would be nice to speak with Jersey again. It is so hard to have a pleasant conversation with a man with more... modern aesthetics such as him."
"That's the spirit, Rosie!"
"You said tomorrow at 5:30?" Rosie asked for confirmation.
"Indeed! I look forward to seeing old friends in person."
"I suppose I'll talk to you then, Alastor." Rosie said with a grin.
"You suppose correctly. Farewell, Rosie."
As she put up the telephone, she looked back at the calendar behind the cash register. She was scheduled to have a knitting circle with some of her oldest friends. It was a weekly event that helped to strengthen the bonds they had as high society cannibals.
"Well, surely they will understand." Rosie quickly used the dial to contact her companions one by one. She had a 'date' tomorrow night, and not even knitting could interfere with it.
Two and a half hours later...
The dining room was being used for its intended purpose for the first time ever. Dinner was earlier than usual, but none of the guests or staff minded that. The current meal was simple: lasagna with garlic toast and the option of Caesar salad.
The kitchen was now too small to accommodate the current population of the hotel, so two large tables were placed together to give everyone from Angel to Vaggie a space of their own. Creating this new distance between the demons of the Hazbin Hotel helped to decrease the number of arguments and antics from Angel Dust. However, this could not stem the verbal poison coming from the latest demon to stay as a guest in the redemption program.
"Crymini, if there is a health problem or a structural issue, we will take care of it." Charlie answered calmly. "We can't spend money on small things that have little impact on keeping the hotel functioning."
The demoness who was being addressed by the Princess of Hell gave a scoff of disgust. "Cheap bitch."
"Hey!" Vaggie yelled. "A little bit of perspective would be nice! I guarantee that this place is infinitely better than any rathole apartment in Pentagram City. Only here can your biggest complaint be that the door to your room is squeaky."
"Don't be a smart ass!" Crymini yelled.
"At least I have the brains to be grateful for what I have." Vaggie retorted.
"Vaggie!" Charlie scolded.
"You wanna take this in the hall, you one eyed whore?! I'll give you a matching eye if you're not careful!" Crymini looked murderous, with her teeth bared and her hackles raised to an almost comical degree.
"I'd like to see you try, mestiza!" Vaggie drew a sharp knife from seemingly out of nowhere.
"Enough!" Yelled Jersey. "I am sick of this constant back and forth! Crymini, Vaggie is right, there are other priorities in this hotel, and Charlie did not need to give you a room. Vaggie, stop letting people wind you up, especially at the table."
Vaggie begrudgingly sat back down. She leveled a final glare at Crymini before finishing her meal in a grumpy fashion. Crymini herself, simply leveled her criticisms onto the man who had broken up the fight.
"How goddamn convenient that the lazy shit who is supposed to fix up this fucking place is telling me to shut the fuck up about how lousy this building is."
Jersey turned his eyes to Crymini, a cold fury on his face. "Excuse me?" He asked.
"Yeah, isn't it your fucking job to make this place fixed up? Where is the new carpeting and shit?"
Jersey sighed through his nose, trying to not get worked up. "That's not in my job description. I am focused on lighting and plumbing. Carpentry is another area I am good at. Unless you have a bad light switch, or you can see leaks anywhere in the hotel, I'm not going to be much help."
"Why can't you fucking try, though?"
"I don't care to know how to lay down carpet or replace wallpaper, or whatever superficial problem you find, Crymini. If it is such a big issue, maybe you can ask-"
"I don't really know how do to that stuff either." Said Niffty with a shrug.
Jersey nodded his head. "Well, there you go. I'm sorry I can't be of much help."
"Nice to see you agree you're fucking useless." Crymini snarked.
"Crymini, qué demonios?!" Vaggie yelled.
"You know what?!" Jersey exclaimed. "I'm fed up with this! Go fuck yourself, Crymini. I'm finishing my meal in the lobby." The handyman snatched up his plate and silverware and stalked out of the dining room.
Crymini flipped off the retreating form of Jersey while Charlie lost patience.
"Crymini, you and I are going to have a talk right after dinner!"
The maned wolf demoness scoffed. "Whatever." She ate the rest of her meal in silence.
Sitting next to a clearly upset Niffty, as always, Alastor looked on with interest. He had finished his meal early, and this was an ideal opportunity to talk to Jersey about the upcoming dinner tomorrow.
'I'll have to ease into it, given his current state,' The Radio Demon thought, 'but that shouldn't be too difficult.'
"I'm quite ready to leave, too." Alastor announced casually. "Even this vulgarity cannot be ignored so easily. Thank you for the meal, Niffty. You did a splendid job as always."
"Thanks, Mr. Alastor!"
The Radio Demon snapped a finger, teleporting his empty plate to the kitchen sink. He then strolled on after Jersey.
Now that he was no longer distracted by the typical antics that occurred at mealtime, Jersey could eat his lasagna in peace. It was quite stark, hearing relative silence when his newfound acquaintances and neighbors often made a stir on even the most ordinary days. Part of him regretted losing his temper, but even he had limits when he had to listen to Crymini of all people have grievances about everything under the Sun.
'I swear, that woman just does it to spite everyone else.' He thought as he shoveled the last of the pasta dish in his mouth. 'I can't possibly think of another explanation.'
"Careful not to choke."
The sound of Alastor startled Jersey so much that he nearly did choke. The handyman leapt to his feet, nearly dropping the plate in his hands as a result. A muffled cough later, and the food in his throat was dislodged and properly swallowed.
Meanwhile, the Radio Demon gave the courtesy of appearing concerned. "Terribly sorry about that. It is bad manners to sneak up on another."
Once Jersey composed himself, he stood up to his full height and glared thunderously at the Radio Demon. "What the hell do you want with me?!"
"Calm down, my friend-"
"We are not friends." The handyman rebuked coldly.
Alastor's eyebrows rose momentarily. Deep down, he could not help but realize how poorly he had chosen the time to extend any invitations to the sinner he was most fascinated by.
'I'll have to play this out as gently as possible.' Alastor reiterated in his thoughts. Handling the anger of Vaggie or Husker was relatively easy. They showed their vitriol at him so many times, he could use fear, bribery, or other means to avoid violent action taken in the midst of heated emotion.
Jersey was a new case. He was usually quite reserved in his emotions. Outside of satisfaction for a job well done or a visibly defensive attitude, he had not been able to gauge the extent of Jersey's behavior when compromised by anger. The Radio Demon did not want to reach such a situation when his priority was to make an ally of the man before him.
"Be as that may Jersey, I did wish to speak with you about something."
Jersey examined Alastor's demeanor briefly. Something on his mind warned him that some kind of deal was fomenting in the demonic radio host's twisted mind. "Then speak your piece before I head to bed early."
Alastor did not mince words. "I am going to a high end speak easy tomorrow evening. The Club Maribou it is called. I wished to give you an invitation to join me."
The offer of leisure confused Jersey. He dropped his tense posture and thought that he had misheard the Radio Demon.
"Why?" Jersey asked pointedly.
"Why what?" Alastor asked with a slightly teasing tone.
Jersey rolled his eyes at the Radio Demon's cheekiness. "Why give me an invite to a random club out of nowhere."
"Random club?" Alastor's tone was offended, a jarring sound considering he held a very prickly smile on his face. "Club Maribou is only the classiest establishment in the north side of the Pentagram! Good food, drink, service, and even musical performances by the wonderfully enterprising owner are what it has to offer. It's the bee's knees, and I think it would be a fine opportunity for you."
The handyman sighed, thinking this offer was too out of nowhere to be a good idea. Jersey thought of simply reasoning his way out of the idea. "I can eat plenty of fine food here at the hotel, or go out into the city for something cheap. Dinner and a show sounds all well and good, but I am rather careful with my spending, and I'd hate to burden you with a bill just to get me to come."
"Oh but I insist!" Alastor implored. "After all, the company at Club Maribou is infinitely better than having to share a table with the hotel's resident bearcat."
"..." Jersey looked confused.
The Radio Demon realized that his slang might have gone over the plumber's head. "I'm talking about Crymini: the woman with the charm of a brick."
"Please don't remind me." Jersey groaned. "I almost lost my appetite listening to her unfounded accusations and whining."
"It's so hard to enjoy things when you're being maligned unfairly." Alastor concurred. "She's been ruffling up almost everyone's feathers."
"I'll agree that I can't stand listening to Crymini at the dinner table. Fair enough. All the same, why the sudden offer of a fancy dinner and a show?"
"It's so much more than that." Alastor explained, putting on as many selling points as possible. "The owner and main performer at Club Maribou is an old friend of mine, and she would be very interested in having a regular, reliable pair of hands such as yourself to handle electrical ailments and plumbing predicaments."
The sound of another consistent customer for his personal handyman skills made Jersey feel tempted to accept. The last time he took such a chance with an associate of the Radio Demon, it had turned out quite well. 'I guess it wouldn't hurt to try my luck with another of Alastor's friends. If I can do good business with a cannibal, I can surely do it with almost anyone else.'
"So... this friend of yours is looking for a reliable handyman for odd jobs at their business. Sounds awfully familiar." Jersey said.
"Indeed!" Alastor chirped. "In fact, Rosie will be joining us. It will be an evening of pleasure and business for everyone involved."
Jersey hummed in thought. On paper it sounded like a fine opportunity to gain another customer while filling his belly with allegedly good food. Then, he thought of something important.
"The... Club Maribou, right?"
Alastor nodded. "That is the name, don't wear it out."
"What else can you tell me about the owner?" Jersey inquired further.
"The fair lady I will be introducing you to is named Mimzy. She is the oldest friend yours truly has ever had. I still remember fondly our time together during life." Alastor replied with a yearning tone. "She was simply the berries when it came to stage performance and singing! You'll get the opportunity to experience her craft firsthand tomorrow evening at the stage they call the Hell Raising Lounge."
Jersey suspected that there was more to the offer than Alastor was willing to admit. Conversely, the Radio Demon had refrained from making any iron clad 'deal' as was often described with horror by Vaggie. Plus, business was business. Jersey would be remiss if he did not accept what seemed like a viable opportunity to expand his clientele, especially if said clientele was in need of large scale services.
"I assume this club will be relatively upscale." Jersey commented after a pause.
"Correct!"
"I'll have to quickly purchase an outfit befitting such a... classy environment."
"I can help with that!" Before Jersey could ask further, the Radio Demon snapped his fingers. In a burst of red smoke that briefly perturbed Jersey's sensitive nose, he noticed that he looked like he had jumped straight out of a 1930s fashion catalog.
He was wearing a summer suit, the color of blood. The undershirt was black and a complementary red bow tie completed the ensemble. A red fedora stood atop Jersey's head, making him feel as if he had changed careers to a mob enforcer rather than a plumber.
"Well?" Alastor asked appraisingly. "Don't you look handsome as the Devil! Well, actually, he would probably have a word to say if that were true." A laugh track accompanied the quip.
While red was far from Jersey's least favorite color, he felt like the assembly was little more than a diet variation of Alastor's iconic attire. "I'd prefer the color be gray, in all honesty."
Alastor sighed through his nose. "Fair enough." A second snap fulfilled Jersey's request.
Now the hat, slacks, and suit were now gray. The bow tie was black and the undershirt was now a pearly white. Jersey sighed with relief.
"No offense to your own style, but I'd rather not be seen as a copycat. I'd like to stand out a little if you don't mind."
"You're all set!" Alastor proclaimed. "Are there any other questions?"
"What time do you expect me to be there?"
"I can handle our travel arrangements. We will be arriving at Club Maribou at 5:30 tomorrow evening."
The unasked question of whether they would be taking a cab or a bus down to the club crossed Jersey's mind, but he supposed that the details of their locomotion were paltry. "Alright Alastor. You steered me towards Rosie. I can let you steer me towards this Mimzy woman as well."
"Excellent! Better than the same routine in this hectic hotel, after all." The Radio Demon turned on his heels and made his was towards the stairs. "Meet me here in the lobby at 4:30, Mr. Jersey. You'll be in for a helluva time at Club Maribou!"
Jersey watched as the Overlord of Radios hummed along his journey away from the lobby. Then he turned an looked down at his newly acquired clothes. The style was technically outdated, but he had a predisposition towards old fashioned things. Living for centuries tended to foster a fondness for the few good things that came and went before the age of modernity.
"Not too shabby." He muttered as he stood up. Jersey was about to leave to undress and keep his formal dress in a place of convenience when he heard the speedy knocking of feet against wood.
"Jersey?" The voice belonged to Charlie, who was momentarily surprised to see Jersey in new clothes. "Whoa... why did you change clothes?"
"Alastor invited me to a fancy club to meet a friend of his. Formal wear is a must to be there, and he generously gave me this suit."
"Oh, that's awesome!" It was strange conceiving of Alastor and Jersey having fun. The Radio Demon was charismatic and intrusively extroverted. Jersey was most known for his modesty and was usually quite reticent. "When's the meal?"
"We'll be going at 4:30, the dinner's at a fancy place called Club Maribou."
The name sounded familiar to Charlie. She understood that it was a hub of organized violence and profitable vice. Her parents resided there most frequently, and it had everything from the most upscale brothels to ruthless corporations. "It's up in the northern side of the Pentagram. Kind of fancy, and a little dangerous."
Jersey noted this information. "Well, between me and the Radio Demon, I'm sure we'll be fine."
Charlie nodded. "Thanks for telling me. Don't forget about signing the time sheet next to the door."
"Of course."
"Ooh! I wanted to let you know that I'll be giving Crymini a firm talking to." Charlie explained, recalling the reason she wanted to meet with Jersey.
"Do you think she will change her tune after this yet-to-be-had conversation?" Jersey's tone was obviously unconvinced.
"I wouldn't go that far." Charlie admitted. "That's not my expectations. I know better. I just want her to understand that progress with undoing her sinful nature is predicated on keeping her temper under control."
Jersey wanted to point out that Crymini was not the only one who could give in to a rotten attitude. The person in charge of the front desk was a notorious foul mouth with a hair trigger, and Vagatha could be explosively furious in her own right, even if that anger was usually for the hotel's benefit. He decided to remain silent.
"Don't take it personally." Charlie concluded with a hand on Jersey's shoulder. "Crymini's just..."
"Constantly irritated and nigh uncharitable?" Jersey asked dryly.
"Umm... let's just call it having a difficult time controlling her temper." Charlie answered sheepishly.
"Huh." Though not convinced, Jersey could appreciate the consistency of Charlie's ability to see the potential good in people. "Well, I'll be looking forward to seeing how that plays out."
He soon began to walk towards the stairwell nearby. "I'll be heading to bed early. I suspect tomorrow will be quite entertaining."
"Well, okay!" Charlie said as she gave a light wave behind his back. "Have a good night."
"Good night." Soon, Charlie was alone, though she knew that would be temporary. The demon heiress walked off to meet with Crymini again.
An attitude adjustment had to be encouraged.
"So he is coming?" Rosie sounded mildly pleased to hear that her latest acquaintance would be joining her and the Radio Demon for a night of dining at Club Maribou.
"Indeed. I even went so far as to procure him a suitable set of attire for the atmosphere. There should be no controversies about Jersey's casual predilection towards modern trappings." There was a sneer in Alastor's voice as he talked. He considered modernity to as much of an abomination as it was a confounding mess.
"Then everything is set." Rosie said. "I'll be looking forward to seeing you in person again. The phone line is hardly a proper place to rekindle old bonds."
"Fully agreed, my dear Rosie!" Alastor replied. "Remember, the reservation is for 5:30. Just say 'Radio Demon,' and you will have no trouble getting in."
"As if my pedigree as an Overlord is in question." Rosie jested. "You insult me, Alastor."
"Perish the thought!" Alastor answered. "But a reservation is a privilege, and you would hardly be one to barge in unannounced."
"You know me all too well. See you tomorrow, Alastor."
"See you later, Rosie." Alastor closed the phone line with a satisfied grin. "So the dominos now begin to fall. Jersey will be one such essential domino, if only to deal with him."
Location: Unknown
A large room was buzzing with activity. Demons of various shapes and sizes were stationed as multiple switchboards, quickly recording and sifting through any number of phone lines. Blinding lights of reds and greens, like sterile Christmas lights orchestrated the sheer pace of effort by the sinners present to do as thorough a job as possible.
This mass phone tapping effort had little to fear from most prying eyes, for laws were few in Hell, and it was hardly the only call center at the behest of a malicious host. One such sinner, cloaked mostly in shadow, with a pale face only lit by a random show of green and crimson, took special note of a conversation between two Overlords of interest. Swiftly, the demon saved the conversation on a recording, and typed out a transcript of the conversation on a tablet in his possession. Such words were of great concern to this sinner's master, especially when they came from the mouth of the Radio Demon.
The electronic files of the recording were sent via a private channel to one Vox. Within seconds, the intel had popped up on the leftmost screen on a computer display before the Overlord, who, as usual, was located at a grand desk of modernist appearance. He was sorting out schedules for numerous television channels that were under his corporate thumb when he saw the notification for the email. It was marked under 'Radio Demon convo, Rosie, 5:01 pm.'"
The flat faced Overlord's mismatched, blood red eyes widened with interest. With a mere thought, the files presented to him revealed themselves. A smirk started to form on Vox's face as he scrutinized every detail of the recorded transcript.
"So Bambi, you're trying to make moves for the first time in decades. Are you perhaps trying to make yourself relevant without being associated with that laughable little charity the Princess indulges in?" He chortled with contempt.
Vox grabbed the latest model of Hellphone from his pocket, designed to effortlessly integrate with his technological form. The sleek, powerful device quickly went through an extensive contact list before settling on one. A call was promptly made.
"I have a job for you: a special little surprise for a superseded shitheel with a radio channel. My recommendation is to use a little sanctusteel."
The voice on the other line pressed for details.
"No not that way; Bambi will see it coming a mile away. I'm asking for subtlety in this terminal gift."
There was a change in the other speaker's voice, now understanding Vox's intentions.
"Yeah, like that. No need to make it a fuckin' replay of Julius Caesar. We don't need some shit theatrics. Hell, it'd be ironic if Bambi bit the dust in a boring-ass way."
Vox gave a chuckle as the other voice gave its affirmation to the plan.
"Good. I look forward to hearing about it all from the airways. The Radio Demon's been an antiquated distraction for too goddamn long."
The phone buzzed with a final question from the agent.
"If you put his friends out to pasture, who cares? You think a bunch of cannibals from that oldies community can do shit to me or my business? Just do the job. A few extra bodies won't change a damn thing. Just get it done."
Vox ended the conversation. The phone then returned to his pocket.
"I'll be disappointed knowing I won't put Alastor on my wall personally, but I'm sure I'll manage. This is no longer his city.
"With him silenced for good, video truly will have killed the radio star..."
I wish to give my sincerest apologies for the lengthy delay. I got sick towards the end of last month, and I have been preoccupied with other real life obligations. Hopefully I will be able to continue my work in a more efficient fashion as winter gives way to spring.
I'll also give great thanks for the dozens of new follows and favorites to this particular story. Your support gives me the will to continue to create and put out new chapters.
At least one reviewer asked why I have Rosie as a sinner as opposed to a native born demon. To put it simply, I was unaware of this information at the time. Even with this revelation, I will be keeping her as a sinner as opposed to a native born demon like the imps and the Goetian demons. I personally think it makes more narrative sense, given that we have little information as to what specific type of demon she belongs to.
Furthermore, I like the head cannon that she showed Alastor the ropes of being a demon in Hell when he first arrived. Having incredible power does not afford one the ability to instantly get an understanding of how to survive and thrive in Hell. Brute force can only go so far, after all.
As always, I'll be seeing you guys sometime in the near future.