Clover had found a grocery store quickly, gathering the things she needed to make a familiar favorite alongside with other snacks to enjoy while she entertained herself. The long way home passed her by flickering pawn shop signs and lingerie stores, Clover slowing to a shuffle as dusty thrift shops caught her attention. Remnants of the decades past sat empty of life on shelves; old telephones no doubt left behind for newer handhelds, vintage dresses passed down through generations before it was tossed aside for the curse of fast fashion, Walkman's with the cd's still inside them that were left under car seats after the kids got iPod for Christmas.
Being dead made her even more pretentious and pensive, it seemed.
She'd been just about to walk away from the coffin of memories when a familiar shape caught her eye. A camera, a polaroid, sat almost obscured by a portable radio in the bottom corner of the window. Something about it pulled at her stomach, drawing her into the shop with the ring of a buzzer. She walked straight towards the counter, a slumping shape of a woman sitting behind it with her feet up on the counter.
"Excuse me, how much is the polaroid camera in the window?"
The woman dropped the phone she'd been scrolling through, peering at her through thick bottle glasses framed by frizzy red hair. She leaned forward, the sound of tin cans clattering around her as she dropped her feet to the floor and set her hands on the smeared glass countertop. Her joints clicked as she drummed her fingers, ball joints turning from beneath lace gloves.
"How much you want it for?"
"Uh…Can I see it before I sell my soul saying some price, because I'm not gonna throw out a number for a busted camera."
"There ya go, that's a smart babe."
Clover had to swing out of the way as the woman vaulted over the counter, wrists turning backwards as she moved jerkily towards the front window. The camera was placed in Clover's hands shortly afterwards, the dust coating her fingers. It was heavier than expected, off white with the classic rainbow up the front. The lens was far more red than she remembered seeing them before, but it was probably a trick of the times. It seemed in good condition, and a quick snap of her bloodied sneakers amongst the books and broken picture frames proved that it worked. She shook the photo that printed as she turned back to the woman.
"Do you have film, too?"
"Only if you buy it."
The photo was already starting to develop as she shook it, feeling a rush of nostalgia lighten her spirits.
"Okay, how about $50?"
"You're cheap."
"You didn't give me an asking price."
The woman only stared at her for a long moment before she turned on her heel and returned to her place behind the counter. A package of film appeared from under it, as well as a large notebook and a dusty lockbox.
"Cash or check?"
Clover was soon on her way again, her burden heavier than before but her heart lighter. The hotel was quiet when she stepped inside, the soft snoring of Husker and radio chatter that radiated off of Alastor gone from the late-morning air. Instead she was greeted with the blaring smile and chipper attitude of Charlie beaming from behind the concierge desk.
"Hello! Welcome to the Happy Hotel!"
"Charlie, it's just me."
"I know, I just...I never get to say it."
Charlie sighed as she leaned against the counter, smushing powdered cheeks as her head fell into her hands. After a couple of awkward moments, Clover decided now was a better time than ever to settle her debt. She stepped up to the counter confidently, watching Charlie perk up a little as she came closer, the hellborn princess watching Clover fumble for the envelope in her pocket as she began to speak.
"Hey, I know that you said I don't owe you anything for staying here but, uh, well it just doesn't feel right to use your hotel like an apartment but not do anything to help out…"
"We just want to help you out! Plus, I think some of the others really like having someone new to talk to."
"I appreciate it but, here."
The stack of bills was shoved unceremoniously in Charlies' direction, but the blonde only blinked at it with wide eyes. The heavy silence was quickly ended by the chipper princess.
"...Clover, I don't need your money. That's not what this place is about."
"Will you just accept it so I can stop feeling guilty for giving nothing in return?"
"You don't owe us anything, you just… grow. If you want to be redeemed and work through that here, it's fine. If you want to just stay and hang out, that's fine too. Honestly, I think you just being here is good for everyone else, including Angel Dust, who is actually working on being redeemed. You are doing something!"
"That's not what I mean…"
"Do you want to like, work or something? What are you good at? Niffty and Husker were both brought on by Al, but they both do things they kind of like. At least, Niftfy does. What do you like to do?"
Clover thought for a long moment, staring down at her feet before she spied her newest purchase, pulling the still dusty camera from the bag and holding it between them.
"I like to take pictures I guess."
Charlie instantly lit up with a bright smile and a wave as Clover raised the camera, the bright flash dilating usually wide pupils for a second. The picture printed quickly, Clover shaking the small square of film as Charlie began to speak animatedly.
"You can take pictures for the Voxagram account! Vaggie and I run it right now, well, mostly Vaggie, but you're...well, you're better with the rest of the staff and could maybe get some decent photos since you have experience!"
"Really? I don't have a phone though…"
"That's okay! You can just use your camera for now and we can use those! I'll let Vaggie know, so that when you get a phone you can have the login."
Clover knew that she wasn't going to change her mind now, Charlie was as stubborn as Alastor was, and at least she had experience with him. At the thought of the Radio Demon, her mind doubled back on what Charlie had said.
"Am I really good with the people here?"
Charlie seemed stunned, blinking at the sudden question before relaxing back from her bubbly hostess personality to speak more plainly.
"Yeah, I mean, Angel told me about you finding his pet. He needs a friend like you, someone calmer and...well, a good influence. I think Niffty likes having another girl around, and Husker likes having someone to talk to that isn't Angel or Alastor. And Al… well, he's mentioned you once or twice, and I think that says more than anything for a guy like him.'
"He talks about me?"
Clove instantly felt self conscious, knocking herself for sounding so obvious about her interests. Charlie only tilted her head in interest, nodding slightly before continuing.
"Yeah! He just mentioned that you hung out with him a couple of times, well, in a more Alastor way of saying it, at least. "
Her heart began to hammer in her chest, Clover quickly placed the photograph on the counter before rerouting herself towards the kitchen with a wave over her shoulder and a goodbye. The groceries were unloaded in record time, all but her collection of snacks that she planned to hoard in her room for later. The rest of her day was spent cleaning her new camera, dusting each part carefully and making sure the lens was free of smudging while watching an old favorite on full blast from her new laptop. The door cracked open briefly around dinner time, Angel Dust poking a fluffy head into her room with an uncharacteristic hesitance.
"Hey, uh, do ya' wanna come down for dinner? We have pizza."
Clover looked up from her work, looking around at the opened chip bags and other snack items she'd been munching on for the last few hours before giving him a shy smile.
"I've kind of been snacking all day, so I'm not super hungry, but thank you."
"It's alright, it's just the gals and I, and I'm not really in the mood for a "family' dinner either. Alastor's been sitting at the bar for the last three hours not sayin' anythin', so I doubt he's up to it either."
The comment pulled Clover from her bed, feeling her still staticing nerves screaming out for a change of pace before she fell into a depression loop of staying in her bed all day. She stood and stretched, smoothing down her t-shirt and slipping bare feet into sneakers before gathering up her laptop. The abrupt stop of the old film she'd been watching left the room in a silence that she quickly fled from.
The smell of yeast and tomato sauce hit her as soon as she stepped onto the landing, and she followed it towards the kitchen to throw away her days collection of empty containers before returning to the lobby. Angel Dust had been right, the soft static of Alastor hummed through the air from his place at the bar, legs crossed casually as he flicked through a paper. Clover gathered her nerve and clutched her laptop to her chest, walking as confidently as she could toward the bar.
Husker was nowhere to be found, so instead of addressing Alastor directly, she posed a question.
"So, is it self-serve tonight?"
The flick of an ear told her that he was listening, the soft turning pages filling the quiet air as static hummed before a radio station flicked to life, and he took a breath with the swell of the soft tune.
"I suppose it is, but let me, my friend. What would you fancy tonight?"
"Would it be terribly rude to take a glass of red wine to the library, if I promise to be careful?"
"Not at all, that sounds like quite a pleasant evening."
The space behind the bar seemed so much smaller when Huskers tall winged form stood behind it, Alastor seeming comfortable in the space as he looked over the row of wine bottles along the back wall carefully, his humming only broken by a question.
"Red, you said? Any preference otherwise?"
"You pick, I'll trust your tastes."
A long glance over his shoulder at her sent a chill down her spine, one brow quirked over a crimson eye that looked her over for far longer than what would be appropriate. The station flickered again, the humming of stereos warming to life fading into a soft melody. Alastor jumped into animation, leaning forward for a bottle and twisting the cork off with a flick of his wrist.
"Well, my dear. I hope this is to your liking, do not be afraid to tell me otherwise. It would be a shame to retire with something you find unpleasant."
The emphasis on "afraid" didn't go unnoticed, Clover's ears twitching forward at the drop of the radio echo in his voice and the clink of a glass being taken from the rack. Alastor poured slowly, glancing up from the filling glass with a smile. There was something so normal yet so oddly tense about the entire situation, the air thick in the way it felt when watching an old French film. It was almost romantic, and the feeling only grew as Alastor closed the bottle again and held the glass towards her instead of setting it down on the bar before her.
She hesitated, unsure of how to approach the dare as he watched her with intrigue. Clover reached forward before the moment became long enough to feel awkward, finding the stem of the glass with her fingers and trying her best to not lay her hand over his. She only failed slightly, feeling her fingers graze against the fabric of his gloves as claws caught the back of her hand.
The wine sloshed as she pulled back, mumbling an apology before bringing the glass close enough to smell out of politeness and taking a sip. She was sure it was going to be to her liking, and as it fell over her tongue, she was proven correct.
"Thank you, this is perfect. I'll bring the glass back down, I promise."
"I had faith in your manners, do not worry."
Clover tried her best not to stare as he returned to the patron side of the bar, settling back down again with a flick of his paper and a cross of long legs. A flash of red where she didn't expect it caught her eye, her gaze landing on the bottom of shiny shoes to find a raised, familiar, hoof in bright red on the bottom. Clover hesitated as she walked back towards the staircase, balancing the glass as she ascended the steps and watching as it swayed when she stopped and turned back towards the bar's occupant.
"You're welcome to come join me, if you'd like. Just bring the bottle if you do."
Alastor laughed, glancing up from his paper with an honest smile.
"I was under the impression that you wanted solitude."
"Mostly, but I wouldn't mind someone being around if it was you."
She didn't let him answer, quickly darting up the stairs and disappearing around the hallway corner before he had time to think of a witty flirt. All that came from behind her was a rise of static, a flick of a radio station, and the smile of shadows that she ran too quickly to see.