Wind blew a torn coffee can along the sidewalk. Steam rose out of a chimney on a brick building. The flickering lights on top occasionally spelled out "Kidney's". Inside the window were two silhouettes of bird demons. They were slowly sampling their respective meals.

The diner wasn't exactly booming with customers. Two demons in the back corner were surrounded by a heavy fog and a stench to match. Other than that, the occasional amalgamation of creature parts tried to reach a hand toward the royals. These hands were immediately sliced to ribbons by thin wires held by an imp butler. The would-be gropers that were still alive ran out of the diner, making the door jingle every time.

"Thank you, Walter." Stella glanced at her help.

"Simply doing my job, Princess." Walter bowed.

Octavia sighed and stared into space.

"What's wrong?" asked Stella.

Octavia's fork poked her salad twice, but it retrieved nothing. "Isn't it too early for that red guy to be in Dad's room?"

Stella waved a hand dismissively. "The Harvest Moon Festival is coming up, so your father's going to need his Grimoire back before the night of the full moon."

"Okay, but do they really have to…? You know." Octavia gestured with her free hand.

Stella half-smiled. "Well, I doubt Blitz has enough cash to pay rent on a priceless artifact."

Octavia shook her head. "Never mind." She took one bite before resuming her empty stare.

Stella hummed. "Do you want any dessert?"

"Not really," answered Octavia. "Maybe just some coffee."

"I think we can manage that." Stella smiled and waved over the guy scrubbing the counter. "Could we get two coffees over here?"

"Sure thing, Your Majesty. Cream and sugar?"

Stella nodded. "On the side, please."

…

They got into their car just in time. Overcast clouds released a torrential downpour. Octavia dozed off. Stella gently held her close.

Not even five minutes later, they arrived at their stop. Stella did her best to keep her daughter dry as they moved to cover. Walter slid a key card by a door and opened it for them. Once they were all in the room, Octavia blinked her eyes awake.

"Why don't you take the shower first?" Stella set her down.

"Okay." Octavia flicked on a light before closing the bathroom door behind herself.

Stella wrung some of her feathers above the waste basket. She set her crown on the nightstand, then sat on one of the beds. This was her first night in one of Hell's motel rooms. Yet, it wasn't all that different from what she remembered about Earth's motels. The biggest thing she noticed while tapping the remote control was that every channel had static, not just the ones she wanted to watch. She rolled her eyes before turning the noisy box off.

…

Rain continued to pour outside. Walter was sleeping with one eye open, near the room's entrance. Stella and Octavia were under the covers in their respective beds.

"Mom?"

Stella turned over. "Hmm?"

Octavia's magenta eyes stood out against the dark. "Who would the rest of the family try to get me to replace in the worst case?"

Stella expressed tired confusion. "Where did that question come from?"

Octavia squeezed the Nerfeld plushie. "The top of my head."

"Hrm…" Stella rubbed her ankles together. "If I had to guess, probably your father. The owl traits are more obvious."

"Really?" Octavia raised her brow.

"Well, that and you have magical potential." Stella moved to shrug, but it was difficult to tell against the pillow.

Octavia groaned. "The last time I tried to open a portal, I ended up in that red d**'s living room."

"Ah ha! Wow!" Stella smiled. "First try?"

"Seventh try." Octavia turned face-down. "And it was because I missed a syllable while aiming for the night sky."

Stella chuckled. "Wish I had been there."

"Nooo…" Octavia buried her face in her pillow. She sighed and lifted her eyes. "So, I'm Dad then. The next keeper of astrology and future sight."

"Let's not jump the gun, Starfire," said Stella. "He still has a long life ahead of him."

Octavia shook her head. "Not if the rest of the royalty finds out that the rumors about his boyfriend aren't rumors."

"Bah!" Stella punched her own blanket. "The worst they can do is take his dignity, and it's currently in possession of that imp."

"Sorry, I brought it up." Octavia hid her eyes.

"Love you, Via." Stella lay her back flat against her bed.

"Mm-hmm," was the muffled reply. "Luhrv turv…"

(Three days later…)

An arrow flew above the straw target and hit leaves. A second arrow zipped underneath the target. A third flew above to join the first arrow. Octavia released agitated throat noises.

"Don't just fire as soon as you lift it." Stella walked up beside her. "Take a moment to look at the point you want the shot to land."

Octavia stared at the stupid target.

"Slowly lift the crossbow until it lines up with your sight, but don't pull yet."

Octavia used one hand to steady the other holding the crossbow. The arrow looked like it was lining up to the distant target.

"Take a deep breath." Stella inhaled. "When you're ready, let it out. Whew…"

*Zwip!*

Instead of hitting leaves, the arrow contacted straw. In fact, it was as far from any of the leaves as it could possibly be on that target.

Octavia blinked. "Was that good?"

Stella stared wide-eyed. "That was… perfect."

…

"Honey, I'm home!" Stolas chortled as he stepped through the portal. "I've always wanted to say that."

'How does he know that reference?' Stella shook her head and closed the book she had been reading. 'The show broke the fourth wall once in Spring Broken. It can do it again.' She looked up. "Welcome home. How was Wrath?"

"Oh, it was exceptionally hot this year, in more ways than one." Stolas chuckled while wiping his head.

"I hope you didn't give him first place just because he's your favorite toy." Stella gave a joking level of disapproval.

"Not at all!" Stolas waved off the accusation. "He tied first place with a taller imp named Striker."

Stella's book slipped from her hand. Darkness surrounded her. 'Striker? No, it can't be! I never called him to assassinate Stolas! I specifically avoided doing that! Why was he still in the Pain Games? That's impossible!'

Stolas's hand waved in his wife's vision. "Stella? Is everything alright? You look rather pale."

Stella patted her cheeks. "Oh, it's just… um…" What could she say that didn't implicate her, even by accident? "Striker was the name of someone I had bodyguard me on a shopping trip a few months back. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he'd return to his home Ring every now and then."

"Hmm." Stolas tapped his beak. "Bodyguard, farmhand, and assassin. If I didn't know any better, I would think this guy was trying to outdo Blitzy's business."

"Well, the Murder Professionals aren't exactly experts in protection. Wait!" Stella did a double-take. "How do you know for sure that Striker fellow also works as an assassin?"

"Oh, the littler imps recovered an angelic-tipped weapon in his possession. Seems his true objective in Wrath was targeting me."

Stella surprised both of them by rushing into a hug. "S**, s**, s**! He had the means to permanently kill you. We almost lost you!" Her eyes were shaking and wet.

"There, there." Stolas slowly let his arms hug back. "It's alright. The weapon has been locked up tightly. I'm not going anywhere."

"How?" Stella sniffed. "How can you be so calm about all of this?"

He sighed. "Perhaps I inherited my father's teaching a little too well. It's unbecoming of a Goetia to act so wildly." He gently wiped away one of Stella's tears. "Even so, I want this to be a comfortable place for this family. To be able to stand firm when the rest of Hell goes to… well, double-Hell I suppose."

Stella stood up straight and breathed deeply. "How can one dirty boy be so pure?"

"Practice and presentation, my friend." He spread his cape and bowed. "Sometimes, in equal measure." His secondary eyes betrayed a hint of worry. "Promise you won't tell Octavia about this."

Stella's right tail feather twitched. "I don't think that's going to matter." She turned toward the darkened hallway. "Right, young lady?"

A hand ran along the corner as the owlet reluctantly revealed herself. Octavia quickened her pace into the living room.

"Via, I-"

Stolas's words were cut off by a fist slamming into his rib cage.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" Every two syllables, another fist slapped its target. "You almost die for real, and you treat it like a **ing joke! You idiot!"

Stella reached out a hand, but Stolas shook his head at her. He then returned his gaze directly down.

"I love you, but I hate you… I hate you, but I love you…" Octavia's punches were losing frequency and intensity. "Why do you keep throwing yourself with abandon? Why, Dad, why?"

Stolas's primary eyes joined the sadness of his second pair. He embraced his daughter tightly. Octavia's hands were hitting nothing but air as her rate slowed down. She cried into his feathers. He rubbed her back gently.

Stella quietly excused herself from the room. She figured that father and daughter needed this moment to themselves. She went to the personal bathroom sink and washed her face. It suddenly dawned on her that her alleged makeup was how her face looked naturally. Come to think of it, the feathers on her eyebrows were really **ing long! How had she not seen how comical they were for so many years?

(A few hours later…)

An ugly lamp lit up an inn's bedroom.

"I failed to kill the target at the festival. But don't worry, sir. It won't happen again."

Elsewhere, a large hand drummed an armrest in a fancy study.

"It better not. I want that pompous prick dead. Whatever it takes, whoever else falls." Cold, blue eyes stared ahead. "Make. It. Happen!"

"Understood."

The bird-shaped silhouette hung up his fancy phone.

Striker hung up the line on his end. He twirled a revolver with a glowing-white pattern. "I'll get him next time."