Hazbin Hotel: Alastor's Private Suite
"And you're sure no one else saw it arrive?" Alastor was standing before the bay doors that would open up onto the connecting balcony he shared with Lucifer's suite. The King of Hell was nowhere to be found, and at the moment, Alastor preferred it that way. He clutched the letter in his hand, staring at it as if by doing so he could make it disappear. "Nah Boss, Niffty was distracted and everyone else was with Charlie and the angel" Husker was rarely so diminutive in Alastor's presence, but this was no ordinary situation. He had his hat in his hands and his pupils were white dots, barely visible. "And your whore bug?" He gave a sideways glance to the feline who didn't even pause at the insult to Angel "Kitchen, no one saw, I promise you…" he was so scared he was rooted to the spot, though everything in him wanted to go help himself to Alastor's liquor cabinet.
Alastor was as ever the picture of calm and collected. Though in his head, he had to keep repeating his philosophy on smiling. If he smiled any harder, the corners of his mouth would split if they weren't stitched "So old friend ... .70 years and you choose to contact me now." He walked over to his wardrobe and started rifling around inside, looking for something. Once he found it, he pulled out an ornate chest, black, a lock on the outside. From a coat pocket he produced a key, holding it in front of the lock and watching it jump into it, turning itself. All around him the strange and glowing symbols of voodoo appeared, a last failsafe in case, by some minor miracle, someone managed to get the key from him.
What sounded like multiple locks clicked and disengaged until, with a breath of air, the box unsealed itself and opened. Inside was another envelope, similar to the one he was holding. In fact, other than the date inside, they could be the same letter. He was sure the wording hadn't changed as he opened the one in his hand and pulled out the black stationary. "You are cordially invited to high tea…" Alastor read the note aloud, the time, date and place following the missive. It was to be that very day; in an hour should he respond that he was in fact attending. "Boss…we both know what this is about. I wasn't there the first time, but you've told me the story enough. He wants to cash in the favor you owe him…" he jumped when a loud tapping could be heard on the window.
"Oh Husker calm down…" Alastor, in his sing-song way, chided the poor bartender. He opened the window and a majestic black Raven, about the size and build of an eagle, soared into the room and landed on the coffee table. "Fucking crows…" Husker moved to the other side of the room "Those are his birds…his spies" On cue the bird turned its head in his direction and let out a mighty caw "I don't think they like being called crows Husker. That is a raven." Alastor, in a rare show of respect, bowed to the creature "Not only a raven, but his personal messenger and familiar." Aside from the black feathers, the only bit of color on the bird was a red ribbon around its neck, holding a badge that read "Diablo''. Alastor set to writing a reply immediately. This particular bird was never far from his master unless on an errand, so time was of the essence.
"I wouldn't let it be known you're afraid of them my alcoholic compatriot. After all,…. you're going too" Husker almost spit out the drink he'd decided to pour. "What the fuck!? If you think I'm stepping one foot into that haunted mansion just to get pecked at by a bunch of rats with wings…" Again, Diablo cawed, and Husker stopped ranting. "I wouldn't insult him, Husker. I've seen him and his children tear apart one of Missi Zilla's henchmen. It was quite a site" He quickly RSVP'd for the pair of them and held out the reply for Diablo to take. He quickly flapped his wings, causing a wind to disturb papers about the room as it flew away, snatching the letter in his claws. "It's done now Husker, so you may as well get used to the fact. There's no getting out of it now…unless you want to end up in a cage being picked at by hundreds of them"
All throughout the conversation, the overlord had been frighteningly calm. Though if Husker could see his face, he'd been with the demon long enough to know all of his tells. He'd been a poker player after all. Alastor could hold it together better than anyone Husker had ever met, but there were slight strains, little ticks, small movements that gave away his annoyance or displeasure and if he could see Alastor's face now, he'd be seeing every single one of them in quick succession. To be owed a favor was a powerful thing in Hell, which was why Alastor collected deals and souls. To owe a favor was another matter entirely. He'd never be stupid enough to give away his soul, but a favor was just as dangerous.
This place, this pipe dream that Alastor had once thought foolish and merely good entertainment had proven to be much more than that. Damnation was not as permanent as it first seemed. While someone like himself would never be caught dead redeeming themselves, if an overlord could bring themselves to change enough to please the powers that be in Heaven, then they could escape this place and be welcomed to a whole new world. Sinners would line up around the block knowing that even an overlord could make it to eternal paradise. And where one succeeded, there would always be those to ensure failure, to delight and pleasure in it. He was bound to this hotel, bound to honor his agreements. If anyone meant this place any harm, Alastor had no choice.
"Boss…. aren't you at least a little bit worried?" Yes. He was. But no sense in letting anyone know it. "AH HAH! Don't worry Husker! What's the harm in an old friend inviting me to tea? You will be fortunate enough to be there to see how real overlords converse and entertain themselves in polite company." Alastor snapped his fingers to change into something a little more formal, his suit with the white trim to give himself a more dapper appearance. "Now go wash up and get ready. Tell no one of our outing today, not even your spider" There was no need to alarm anyone or cause undue fuss until it was certain.
Husker was about to bear witness to the terror and might that was the darkest and most evil of the overlords. Alastor hadn't been there to see it; he'd only been in Hell for 70 years. But he knew the stories from the likes of the ancient ones. Carmilla Carmine, Zestial. They'd been there, they'd been part of the largest full-scale war to ever ravage the upper ring. Even Lucifer himself had been powerless to stop the onslaught that came right to his very doorstep. In some ways, it was admirable, a true legend in Hell. But you didn't become the most powerful overlord simply by being a legend. "Caine, my old friend. What are you up to?"