Chapter II
Drake G. Reaper on Fanfiction: Whether the Goetia are fallen angels or not will be answered in the next chapter. It is not going to say MUCH, but that will be explored further at a later date. As for relationships? Well, I made a few changes before watching that little tidbit about the rest of Season 2 on Youtube, but while you'll see in this chapter that things are better than left in canon, there'll be more later on when Stolas and others become more prominent.
As a sidenote: Some miscellaneous information in this chapter for this instance of Hell, courtesy of Alastor as he plays with information and knowledge in his head. Why? He'll tell you as you read. Just a way to excuse a bit more worldbuilding and future lore when humanity begins to get properly informed.
Also - I managed to get two chapters done. So if you are reading this the day it was uploaded, tomorrow there'll be another chapter. Don't count on this being a regular thing, but I will do my best to have the regular 'One chapter every first day of the month' kind of schedule even after going back to Ouroboros.
*** Onwards with the story ***
Blitzo (The O is silent, but the writer doesn't give a shit) had known today was going to be shit. Why? It wasn't yet eleven in the motherfucking morning and he had ZERO jobs to pull. In fact there had been no jobs the last three days! Well, it was three days NOW.
And Blitzo wasn't even in the mood to play around with his usual shit as he waited in his office. He was so bored and angry he was even actively doing paperwork! Anything to work through this dry spell at this point.
"Christ on a stick. Is everyone losing their shit about the fucking angels coming twice a year or what?"
If you thought that an Imp that managed to work his way up to a decent position, one where said Imp was his own boss, would be calm, collected, capable, charismatic and a lot of other things that start with 'C', well… I sure hope one of them is 'cunt', because Blitzo was the closest thing to an asshole that you could get.
Tall for an imp? Sure. Had an ego to match those huge horns of his? Yeah. Could kill almost anyone and was capable enough in a fight to deserve all the pride the red ass exuded? Also true. Had a dapper suit (because of course he did) fulla hidden weapons? Yes siree, with matching boots too. Then surely he had the clear mind, level headedness and presence to justify everything else? Fuck no.
He was the boss. He had big, dexterous hands, an equally capable tail and a mix of reflexes, agility, killer instinct and perpetual anger that made the Imp very dangerous. He was as good in a melee as he was using his custom flintlock. Blitzo could, and would, fuck up your day, your life and then your afterlife. The Imp was aware of how to be a dick, was a master of such an art and had enough internal turmoil to excuse doing the worst to most people for money or kicks.
So no. Blitzo was many things, one of them being tall (for an Imp), but discrete, level headed or a good planner and charmer were nowhere in his resume. Well, he probably would dot them down if asked, but that was a motherfucking lie. Perhaps if needed, or if he was really into whatever was happening, Blitzo would show his more serious and caring persona. But for nearly everyone outside his personal circle, so for everyone in Hell? Yeah, fuck that noise. They get a smart ass red fucker with a motormouth and zero fucks to give.
Okay, so that HAD changed a bit. Making up with a childhood friend and clearing a few things with Stolas, of the Ars Goetia, not long ago had made him relax a bit. Fuck, he had even managed to patch some things with Verosika.
A bit.
I mean, shit had been crazy, literally. And there were still a lot of bases to cover and asses to kiss. Blitzo himself was very much sure he could still fuck it all up. In fact his self deprecation made sure to tell him the same thing every day: You WILL fuck up. But he tried to be positive.
Well, *tried* was the keyword here. Considering Blitzo's business was in Pride and he REFUSED to abandon it for any reason, which meant his income was now twice threatened by holy fucks, made the Imp very, very frustrated. He was unwilling to destroy what he had created and bring his daughter and employees under Stolas' umbrella for safety in every meaning of the word.
It sure as fuck didn't help with 'positivity' when it once more felt like he was this close to owing Stolas big time again, even if they had a talk about it.
More so if the clock was getting so close to strike midnight that his usual clientele was now more interested in not finding temporary places to hole down once a year, but instead trying to find more permanent ways to get out of dodge if more and more Exterminations were going to be a thing. Bottomline? Less revenge money to spend on assassins, which means less money Blitzo could spend (sadly paying his employees and) buying figurines or other pleasures, like gifts for his daughter.
Suffice to say Blitzo was very much determined to chew whoever came through his motherfucking door if they didn't want someone DEAD. Because Satan take him, if another asshole comes here to waste his time AGAIN he is going to shoot someone. It was as if every dick had been roused from wherever the fuck they went to rot away just to spite him.
Funnily enough that was when a small group of people, that were very much here not to buy, landed smack dab in front of the building that held his office.
Only on the street in front of it.
Which allowed Emily to read a big ass sign with Blitzo's face on it.
"Goat an asshole in the Living worlds?" Emily read, almost flustering. Those around her weren't sure if it was because she cursed or because they noticed the sign too and were appalled at what they saw, for various reasons. "Come to I am Pee?! W-what!? W-who is this Imp!? How can he be the boss of anything?! Or is this normal?!"
"Normal? No. If he was then that-" Lucifer pointed at the sign. "-would've changed hands a long time ago. So he at least does 'good work'. Still, it doesn't mean he isn't something else." Emily turned to face the fallen angel. Said angel tried his best not to smirk. "An idiot." Lucifer was so serious with his delivery that it was funny.
At least Charlie let out a little snort. That was all Lucifer needed. Charlie had been clearly not in a good mood before and lifting it in any capacity made Lucifer happy.
"He is sure to be a character." Alastor allowed with a little hum.
Considering this was not going to have him act, merely watch, unless needed, he would've loved to enjoy the possible chaos. But they were on a tight schedule. Going to Earth would open far too many doors for him to just indulge now and have fun with the chaos. It would be cathartic to see an angel stumble around, to have Lucifer do something stupid. It could even make Charlie willing to entertain Alastor's ideas and offers if time became a true danger.
But what if he failed here? Not because Alastor did something wrong, or acted rashly, no. Alastor would not risk his position like that, much less now that he had much of what he hoped to get before acquiring Charlie's favor in a literal sense. There was power and entertainment to be gained, but only if he took a step back.
Alastor could watch HIS own step. But that mortal boy? He was a piece on another board altogether. If something happens to him, the game ends, and Alastor would find himself stumbling outside of his original plan and opportunity that so kindly had fate linked together. As always, the hardest pawns to control aren't the ones on your enemy's hand, but the ones that don't yet have a master.
"But enough idling I say. Time is of the essence after all." Alastor sent his cane away, straightened his jacket and began to walk across the street. Traffic made sure to stop the moment the Radio Demon decided the road was his.
The reactions to his display were mixed, but one thing was certain: Alastor was right. In fact he was right to the point that Emily was the first to scramble after him, with the Morningstars catching up with her a moment afterwards once Charlie sent Razzle and Dazzle back with a message for her friends at the Hotel. This could take long or devolve very quickly, so she wanted as few worries as possible, and Alastor was already creating new ones.
If you found the scene outside appalling, the one inside was not much better. The difference? Alastor caused the one outside with a purpose.
A condemned building barely managed, but still operational, was something else.
"You know, I shouldn't be surprised." Lucifer looked so done with this. "I mean, yeah, it is Hell. Its purpose is to suck ass, but still…"
Emily looked at Lucifer with questioning eyes. "You don't condone this… state?"
Okay, look, first of all? It wasn't that obvious at first glance. In fact there were some people here, a few Imps, working. There were offices and business in this building after all. But the moment whatever hustle and bustle was going on stopped? The problems within became obvious.
The sounds of water dripping from a broken pipe in a room nearby. Holes infested with some insects from Hell capable of eating stone. The buzz of electricity and other energies flowing across faulty connections. Cracks and rumbling from badly or hastily repaired walls and load bearing pillars.
If this wasn't Hell, if there wasn't SOMETHING in here trying to support this quasi living building, then this place would've turned into ruble a long time ago.
"Emily, my dear. I am the Sin of Pride." Lucifer motioned at the building's state just as some plaster fell from the ceiling. "This? It doesn't exactly scream 'pride'. More like 'shame' or 'eugh'."
The lone, very tired, and very much done with everything, repairman Imp working on this building had eleven other projects. He wasn't here. He was nowhere near capable enough to hear, or even feel, Lucifer with the distance between them.
He still felt the blow. Ironically, taking a step back at such affront to HIS own pride saved him from a steel beam almost crushing his head. Perhaps this would make him put on some decent effort next time.
But back to the situation at hand.
Charlie had opted to ignore the state of the place and instead called the elevator. "At least the lift works."
"As it should." Alastor didn't really fancy taking his time with the stairs either. For all he knew, he'd suffer the indignity of going through instead of UP. Besides, this gave him time to ask the poor Imp lady at the front desk a question. "Hello there my dear. Could you tell me which floor houses that I.M.P business?"
One answer and passed out Imp after (with a small crowd of other Imps going apeshit the moment the group entered the elevator) and the group found themselves almost at their first proper stop.
Questions, plans, doubts and many more little things occupying the four's mind made the quick, claustrophobic and rickety ride end up without incidents. There were no ribbings between Alastor and Lucifer. There were no words or smiles between Emily and Charlie. Not even Lucifer tried to get some more points with his daughter. All of them had their mind clear on the target for many reasons, some their own, some not so much.
But those little secrets were meant to stay secret for a while longer.
"What the fuck?"
The Hellhound in front of them the moment the elevator opened up was a lot less secretive. Probably due to shock, yes, but still.
"Oh. A mutt." Alastor's smile strained. "How… nice."
"Hey! Fuck you too, buddy!"
Alastor sneered. He sneered, but did his best to calm down. And he did so by focusing on something he had been working over in his mind.
Knowledge.
Knowledge of Hell, specifically. Alastor had been toying with how to make himself very useful. Hope was not something exactly plentiful in Hell, and he had none when it came to this 'plan' coming to fruition. But with at least a tiny parcel of Heaven trying her hardest? Alastor had the smidgest piece of optimism. As such, he also knew one thing.
Lucifer would not be around for long.
Oh, Alastor was sure the King of Hell wanted to. But the moment this plan took off, if the best was to happen? Alastor knew Lucifer would HAVE to get back to work, no matter how much he wanted to be with his daughter. As such, knowing Charlie was beyond sheltered, aware of his own underlings' limited knowledge and abilities, as well as the snake's technologically focused mind, Angel's… proclivities, and dear Vagatha's rocky position? Alastor was aware that, even if he brought Rosie, HE would be the lead expert in Hellish magic, species, biology, traditions, history and more. He HAD exploited such knowledge for his own gain for a loooooooong while after all.
And now it would come in hand again. He only needed… a refresher.
See, like with this Hellhound here. Despite his distaste for the beasts, Alastor knew a lot about them. And such knowledge was a good way to redirect his anger, for now.
An interesting tidbit to start with? The original Hellhound was more akin to a huge, black direwolf with red eyes than some of the more 'magical' and 'extreme' renditions in modern art and literature. In fact the Hellhounds back in the day were even less aware of themselves, and far less intellectual, than traditional wild wolves.
To call them 'animals' may be a stretch, even.
They were hunters from Hell. Not necessarily 'sent' by Hell, but tasked with retrieving the Sinners that, back in the day, before all the magic and wards now in place, managed to slip by to the living world. They'd drag the souls back to Hell alive or, if they resisted, they'd kill the Sinner and allow them to respawn back in Hell afterwards. The second choice also tended to, again, back in the day, bring them back near a Hellhound breeding ground.
That is… probably one of the reasons why the afterlife made sure to make those 'dead' end up completely infertile. At first it wasn't a problem, considering how few humans were there. But after a time?
Well, suffice to say that hellborn are very malleable. Also, hybridization is very easy. And back in the day? 'Willingness' had nothing to do with how many demons spread around.
It stuck too. Hybrids made many bloodlines stronger, and having a bit of human blood in most demon species seemed to stay long after Sinners stopped being able to spread their genetics. As such modern Hellhounds are not only anthropomorphic and at least of average (low) human intellect, but they live much longer. True that they learn slower than even imps, but that only means they tend to do what comes natural or go for what they like most. You rarely will find a genius among them, but much like all other natural born demons, they had a lot of variety.
This particular young Hellhound was a decent example of the modern version; dog-like (in this case, wolf, thus it was probable she had a more pure bloodline), bipedal (digitigrade legs are almost universal, and she was no exception) and anthropomorphic to a decent degree. Anyone in the human world with any decent knowledge of the internet and the many subcultures within the world would call her a furry.
Most Hellhounds that knew the terminology would call such idiots 'dead meat', if they bothered to give them a warning before ripping their throats.
Speaking of; this particular hound was relatively tall, silver haired and mostly covered in white fur, sans the grey counter shades on her head and patches on her shoulders and covering her ears. Speaking of, as civilized as they are, Hellhounds are no stranger to markings and scarring for play or fight, and Loona's ears were just as used to it; the left one had a large ragged cut, while the left had two hook piercings.
As for attire? Unsurprisingly she went with the 'barely there' variant. It was common, at least for a good number of the less fortunate Pride hounds: Tattered grey, off the shoulder crop top held up at the neckline by an inverted pentagram looking strap. Black shorts barely keeping it together with how tattered they were at the end, with the more 'personal' touch of a crescent moon on the right side. Black fingerless gloves and toeless stockings, paired with a spiked black choker were good compliments. A quick guess considering her looks? A goth.
No, scratch that. A more sincere guess on Alastor's side: The young woman was suicidal. After all she had gone from insulting the man to flipping him off and preparing what seemed to be a punch not long after.
At least until Alastor's static began to humm in the air. He was done entertaining the beast's history and became far more interested in making an example out of her. Luckily for her, and sadly for Alastor's entertainment, her ears quickly went down and her face changed the moment recognition dawned on her.
"Oh shit." She took a step back the moment radio interference began to echo around the group. "Fuck. I know who you are."
Alastor's grin stretched further than it should've been able to. "Good!" Then it turned sadistic as the radio distortion began to grow in intensity. "Now how about I make sure to leave a reminder so people are a bit quicker next time, hmm?"
Before the Radio Demon could do anything, and before this could devolve into general violence, Charlie walked past Alastor, throwing the man an admonishing look. It had the proper effect, if only because Alastor was quickly reminded of the obvious: Time was of the essence. He could entertain himself later.
As quickly as the static came, it banished. This made Charlie's 'harsh' glare go away as well, instead being replaced by the biggest smile she could offer as she turned to face the Hellhound.
"Hello there, my name is Charlie, Charlie Morningstar." She offered as gently as she could. Usually this would come with far too much energy, but she was still feeling the effects of yesterday's mess. That, and it was clear that the Hellhound knew who Charlie was. "I am sorry about this little… incident. It wasn't our intention to start a fight. We are here to meet with the head of I.M.P."
The hound's demeanor quickly changed from clear fright at a likely end to deadpan levels of 'why the fuck?'. "What has he done now?"
"He?" Charlie's smile went the way of the dinosaur at the question. Had they made a mistake somehow? "Who do you mean he?"
"Blitz!" The Hellhound huffed, any thoughts of dread not only gone, but replaced by clear irritation that could literally be felt by everyone else as the last remainders of the group exited the elevator. "That dickhole has been fuming for a while now! And why? Because everyone is losing their shit about the next Extermination instead of asking for a hit on some bozo."
Charlie found the perfect moment to cut the woman's rant short. "And why would that bring us here?" Sadly, the question only made it worse.
"Because he is BLITZ." The Hellhound let out an exasperated groan. "If there is some shit coming our way a thousand times? Then I can guaran-fucking-tee that only one time out of all of those it isn't his fault."
Emily couldn't help herself. She had to ask. "Does that happen often?"
"All the fu-." The Hellhound almost went into another rant before she noticed Emily. Or better say: She noticed what Emily 'looked like'. "Wow, you got a strange bit of luck there. You look nifty for a Sinner."
The young Seraphim perked up. Not having her wings or halo showing hadn't really been worth mentioning, but apparently it was more important than she thought. Then again, Emily had thought it prudent to hide those details when in Hell. Just in case, you know?
Now, for some reason, it made her feel a bit silly. Maybe even stupid. She hadn't really meant to fool or lie to people. This was a small, inconsequential thing, but it made the usually peppy angel feel somewhat sad.
"Emily is not a Sinner." Lucifer was at his fellow angel's side, finally making himself known to the, until now, laser focused hound. "She is an angel, and she is here with us on an important matter. We all are here to meet with the owner of I.M.P for matters that concern all of Hell."
The Hellhound looked at Lucifer. She then turned to face Charlie, stole a glance at a clearly unhappy and beyond annoyed, but still smiling and glaring daggers, Alastor, only to finally rest her eyes on Emily.
She was officially done. On a side note; she needed to stop that tunnel vision. Perhaps she DID spend too much time on her phone.
"Of course. Fuck me, this day cannot get any weirder." The hound huffed. "Fine. Name is Loona by the way. And if you kill the prick… can I get his place? I doubt the landlord would let me stay just because I am Blitz's 'daughter'. Bitch doesn't like hounds."
That made Emily's eyes widen. "How-?"
"ADOPTED daughter." Loona quickly pointed out. She WAS NOT going to explain shit to a literal angel. At least not without being drunk first. "Come on. Our place is right here."
The woman turned around and mumbled something about 'not being able to go out for a fucking smoke break' before guiding the four strong group to the I.M.P headquarters. Granted that taking a few steps and having to smoke in the office wasn't the worst thing ever, but Loona really, REALLY wanted to be away from Blitzo's neurotic ass for at least five minutes. I mean, until a few moments ago there was nothing to do around except hear him bitch and moan from his office.
Now Loona had to mentally beg Satan for her father's quick (and hopefully non explosive) end. She wouldn't say it out loud, but she hoped he wouldn't suffer… Much, yeah, he shouldn't suffer 'much'.
Everyone else was focused on something different as they crossed from the empty hallway into the I.M.P office.
Some, like Emily, wondered if everything was as drab in Hell as this place unless the owners were very rich, like Charlie. The young Seraphim was used to bright, pastel colored everything. Her short stay here had poor Emily weirded out by how darker and more mute everything was. The zebra stripes pattern on the walls here, the low level red light coming from outside and the black and dark tones in almost every bit of furniture made the already disquieted angel grow a bit more nervous. Was her previous assumption wrong when she saw the weird pitch on that sign? Could this Blitz be hard, gritty and insane? Despite her mistrust of her older sister, Emily HAD been raised with tales of just how bad Hell was, and the hint of fear inside of her was making every negative possibility play as a slideshow in her head.
This did not stop Emily from steeling herself towards her objective. But, despite how powerful a Seraphim was, there were doubts and fear floating in her mind. Not strange considering those feelings were all but new to her, and having them was one thing, but controlling them was a wholly different beast.
Charlie and Lucifer were perhaps more concerned with the state of the place than the decor and possible ideas or images of a murderous Imp. So long as Lucifer was serious and focused, things would go swimmingly one way or another. Even Charlie was more than willing to be a bit more forceful and upfront than usual, if only because she desperately wanted for this to work out. What neither of them were sold on was just how stable this place was considering that if either let loose even a teensy weensy little bit, the floor was likely going to cave in. Call it pragmatism on their part. Charlie expected it to not go that far, while Lucifer thought it was a foregone conclusion.
Besides, Imps were naturally combative. Even the most mellow and nice of them was compelled to generally act in a way that would put them above someone else. Their most generous and kind acts were always geared to make them stand above someone else. This was not 'natural malice', as some would say of all demons, but a survival instinct: If you are 'better', someone will see you as necessary. And if you are 'better' than the one you are facing, then logic dictates the 'lesser' should acknowledge you to be right.
Not like it always worked, but that did not stop Imps from trying. It was all but ingrained in their being. Such acts were much more 'human' now than back in the day, but Lucifer did not expect someone more 'in touch' with their roots (Violence) to back down and give anything willingly, whether he was the motherfucking King of Hell or not.
And Alastor? Alastor was just looking at the side, at a 'regular' (Read: Small) sized Imp that had been one step away from drinking a cup of water from the office's cooler.
At least until realization dawned on him and the cup hit the floor.
"Well there my good fellow. You wouldn't be 'Blitz' per chance?" Alastor wanted so badly to play with the poor Imp. But he made sure not to let his desires pull his strings, not now. "There are important things to discuss and very little time to spare."
Said Imp looked like he was ready to keel over. All he managed was a soft. "You are the Radio Demon…"
"Guilty as charged." Alastor chuckled. The Imp looked befuddled, but more than smart enough to not do anything stupid. That was rare for his kind. "But do tell me. Are you or are you not-?"
"No! No-I, uh. The boss is in the office." The Imp cleared his throat. Apparently he saw it better, or at least more proper, to straighten up and try to clear his black coat and pants. A futile effort to be sure; water and wet spots weren't going anywhere, but Alastor found his confusion funny until the Imp managed to think clearly enough to let that go and instead speak again. "Sorry, sir. I am Moxxie; Firearms expert, sniper and-."
"And the smarty pants of the group." Loona did her best to offer a 'devil may care attitude' in front of the group. She had led them in and knew shit was likely going to go down. But what can't you do against a fucking angel, the Radio Demon and Lucifer and his kid? Go for a smoke, that is what Loona was going to do. "If you want to hear opera, learn about history, guns, technology, human crap and anything a nerd could ever dream of? Ask the fatty."
Moxie just looked defeated and pissed as he only partially ignored the very dangerous Overlord in front of him to face Loona. "For the millionth time: I. Am. Not. FAT!"
Ah, there it was what Alastor expected. Anger, perhaps violence. While the interaction got a few curious glances from the others it did bring a sincere smile from Alastor. Even if this was a rare and very smart Imp specimen, this Moxxie clearly had the natural instincts of his kind.
"Wait! Please! Don't fight!"
And Charlie had her own kindness to contend with. A good time as any to give his little internal library another onceover.
Okay, that was a lie. It was a good time to distract himself with his future 'task' to ensure he wasn't going to make this worse. The frustration of having today's plans thwarted was still lingering after all. A little review of old knowledge would calm him down.
After all it had been… how long since Alastor found anything of interest in an Imp?
Ah.
Decades, yes.
It… His first experience with an Imp was a bit interesting. A different world, a different chance, and perhaps it would've been a bit less…
Eh.
Imps were his first forays in the lore and knowledge of Hell. One thing he learned very quickly was this: Imps are perhaps the more widespread species of Hellborn. They started as little more than slaves with no much more agency and self awareness than Hellhounds. Small enough to barely hit the 3 feet mark in origin, of crimson skin, with fulgurant yellow eyes, no pupils, long noses, digitigrade legs with goat hooves and small horns, ending with the last detail that was their tails. That, in a nutshell, was the aspect of the Imp, all paired with sharp fangs, claws and an incredibly cruel and petty mind.
In a way the Imps of old were the typical 'pitchfork wielding devil' from old tales. Nowadays Imps consider being called a 'devil' to be something akin to a slur. Most would tell you to go fuck yourself or fight you sooner than they'd let it slide.
Much like Hellhounds however, Imps changed. Physically at least.
Originally Imps did not have sexual dimorphism. Now? Male Imps sported white hair almost universally, with black horns that had large white stripes. Females? Black hair with similarly colored horns, only with (usually) thin white lines on them. Both of the sexes became either more masculine and feminine, with clear differences similar to that of humans. Their horns became incredibly varied, some being intricate, some huge, some small, and some having more than two of them. The Imps grew pupils and more human-like features as they mixed with the ancient Sinners, though the digitigrade legs were still common, and almost all Imps, goat legs or not, still got hooves instead of feet. On top of it all Imps diverged so much that some breeds became small enough to fit a purse, while others went from the average to and half feet or three feet to human size, perhaps even bigger in the rarest of cases.
That wasn't all; Imps were the poster child of how malleable demons were. They were FIRST, before Hellhounds, to mix with humans. The new breed of Imps became the key worker of Hell, more so than before, thus they spread to every Ring and slowly overcame the original Imp genes. From there Imps breed and mingled with all other hellspawn. Lust Ring Imps, or 'Succubus Imps', were a perfect example: Taller, more sexually attractive, sensual in their disposition and also sporting wings.
But despite all the differences that crossbreeding and time brought, a few things remained constant.
One: Imps were made to serve. Most Imps are subservient and of simple mind. It was what made Alastor quickly get interested in Moxxie; smart Imps, intellectual imps, were a rarity. Even rarer were those like this 'Blitz': Imps with not only the smarts, but the drive, to become the master.
Two: Imps were petty, cruel and combative. Even the most civilized and nice had easy triggers (more so if you identified their pet peeves) to start a fight, whether verbal or physical. As children of Wrath, for that was the Ring that spawned these creatures, Imps, no matter where they originated now, were geared to fight AND work.
And three: Demonic malleability was stronger in Imps than any other species and, much like 'humanity', a little bit of Imp was in every modern hellborn. As such it was not strange to finds outliers, mutants and so on.
One example of a 'mutant'? The common intersexed Imps and the many, eh… Alastor would say 'aberrant', modern society be damned, Imps. Like the first one he found: A 'female' Imp with male horns. Or, in other words, what Alastor would learn to call a 'shemale', a word that he still aborred and quickly used on any Imp like the one from that first encounter.
… Perhaps it was time to walk away from that memory. That day had been shameful and Rosie had laughed her ass off. The most undignified outing Alastor ever had with the woman.
Yes. This was more than enough. A simple resume really, Alastor knew much more, and he could talk about hours about a singular species. Besides, whatever altercation Charlie had tried to defuse should already be done with and-.
".. should stop calling me fat, you lazy-!"
Alastor blinked. They were still at it? How long had it been? He forgot just how lost in his mind he got when it came to knowledge in general. A very positive trait when learning, more so considering Alastor had needed to learn fast, but it could become bothersome in times like this.
He procured a pocket watch from his coat. Hmm, not even a minute. Still surprising. Alastor took account of that Moxxie Imp.
Short, like almost all Imps, so of average stock for their kind. Typical white hair, pointy in his case, curvy horns, white freckles (as Alastor could tell those weren't old wounds), with a red hue to his skin that hinted at mix breed. Considering Alastor's knowledge, he knew the Imp came from Wrath, partially, but the clearer tone marked him from Greed. It would also explain the much 'softer' complexion instead of the rugged (and usually scarred) one from Wrath. A lithe psyche, but a strong mind. Greed Imps thrived that way, and their brutality had to do more with guns and technology for that reason alone. It was no big surprise Moxxie was a weapon expert with that background.
Much like anyone in Pride trying to dress to impress; a navy black coat with red buttons and white cuffs paired with black pants and a white shirt with a turtleneck. A decent, simple combo, if not exactly all that practical for an assassin. A bit too 'cliche' you could say, and Alastor knew well about 'cliche'. That large red bow-tie though? Silly, probably could've done with smaller. The fingerless gloves were a nice addition though. So many hellborn went with normal ones to just rip them apart with their claws for a 'rule of cool' effect that Alastor had grown tired of the scene they caused.
Whatever prowess the little Imp had, it clearly did not impress the Hellhound.
"Loo, shorty, if it wasn't so easy to rile you up I would've stopped doing it a long time ago."
Alastor made sure to hide that chuckle of his. He wasn't about to show anything, but he had been sincere when he finally had to defend Charlie's establishment: It had been a long time since he let out steam. Of any kind.
There was a growing desire to make this situation worse just with a few words. It would be SO easy.
Charlie was frantically trying to stop the two bickering coworkers. Her good nature just begged her to do something and 'help', even when no one asked her to.
Lucifer was a mix of amused and concerned considering the situation, probably a mix of worry for his daughter if time slip by and the usual disdain for his own people when they let themselves go like this.
Anb Emily? Emily was just transfixed. The poor Seraphim didn't know if this was normal, if this was a friendly spat, or if she was about to see a murder occur in front of her.
Making this escalate was SO tempting. But Alastor was not one to lose control. He wouldn't allow those base instincts that his past life's actions and Hell itself had ensured would take root to take the reins of his mind. There was a sadistic desire to see what a few key prods could produce, but it would all be detrimental after the first moments of entertainment anyway. So he summoned his cane and tapped on the Imp's shoulder.
"My good man. I think we have entertained this scene long enough." Those words silenced everyone still talking or trying to. Alastor could at least be content in the fact that he commanded such reactions from the group. "Now. Could we see your patron? Or is there anyone else to meet?"
"Uh… well… yes, but not really?" Moxie gulped before turning to face the Radio Demon. "My wife had to go visit family in Wrath since no one seems to need our services, so…"
Alastor frowned ever so slightly, his smile still present. "Young man." He made sure to let some static flow through for good measure. "We are pressed for time."
"Yes! Of course!" Moxie scrambled away from the microphone tip of Alastor's cane.
The Imp was clearly overwhelmed. Alastor could hardly blame him.
If ego alone was enough Alastor would've loved to say it was all thanks to him, but he knew that Moxxie's first shock had been due to his appearance. The rest of his nervousness had to do with the, as much as Alastor wanted to deny it, far more important figures accompanying him. After all, even if Alastor would gladly dismiss Lucifer, and Charlie was usually seen as a joke by Hell at large, Emily was a proper show of force as it were.
Fear or intimidation were enough to have things done fast, usually. In this case it was overkill, and Moxxie was quick to scurry away from the group and knock on a door nearby.
"Sir? Sir, there are people here looking for you." Polite man though. At least when he wasn't about to hyperventilate. Alastor would give him that.
"Unless they want someone dead, tell them to fuck off."
More than Alastor could say about his employer, that is for sure.
"Sir! I really think-."
Moxxie's words were short lived as a scream came from the office. "I don't give a fuck what you think, Moxxie! We are losing money and that is never a fucking good thing! So unless those bitch ass 'visitors' bring cash, I don't fucking care!"
The yell and rampant foul mouth made Emily let out a little jump. It was enough for Charlie to offer the young Seraphim a smile and a hand to the shoulder. Both Alastor and Lucifer found it both amusing and concerning in equal measure. No one wanted an irate Imp to make this take longer than it should.
"B-b-but sir!"
"I. Don't. Give. A. FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. Moxxie." Came the much more subdued but no less vitriolic words from within the office. "Those fucking angels wreck EVERYTHING every damn year. Then they see there are no Sinners and fucking go. That is, when they don't 'accidentally' kill someone around here and makes cost skyrocket just as much as when someone FUCKS with our walls!" The words from Blitzo seemed to hit Emily in a way that made the young Seraphim falter in her resolve. It still surprised Alastor that the Exterminations were kept secret from someone so supposedly high in the totem pole. "For all we know the fucking owner of the building is going to let it finally fuck off and crumble to dust if she doesn't bleed us to death to keep it standing straight. Swear to hell she is even more of a cunt than my landlord. And that bastard is always trying to kick my Loony off our apartment. If this is going to happen twice a fucking year and drain us, then I need to come up with whatever I can to shake down our clients if we don't want to be on the fucking streets!"
Moxie was sweating bullets as he looked back at the group. At least Emily had regained some of her spirit after hearing Blitzo seemed to really care about his (adopted) daughter… and his employees, to an extent. Still, the Imp was not willing to see just how long the group's patience lasted.
Alastor had to give credit. The young man was smart, well mannered and a bit shy, true, but he also seemed determined, loyal AND insistent. Rare traits in Hell. He could be interesting in the future.
"Sir, I must insist." Moxxiei spoke after clearing his throat. "And I am sure that, uh, money could be arranged?" This part he said after sending Lucifer a glance. Alastor would grant the Imp this: He had balls when needed. At least Lucifer wasn't slow in giving a nod in response. "Yes. I believe there could be money involved. If you let them in?"
A loud, exaggerated and long suffering sigh was heard from the office. "FINE! Send whatever fuckface wants to make my day worse into my office and fuck off! Give your wife a call or go maintain the guns, I don't care!"
Moxxie could only wince at his boss' words before looking at the group again. Once more, the only one surprised was Emily, though whatever 'shock' there was had been lessened. Everyone else had a different expression, and Alastor's own was one of amusement.
At least the man WAS likely going to be fun to talk to.
"Get used to it." Loona's voice came from her desk as she did her best to distract her mind from the possible massacre that was going to happen and was going to be called 'Blitz'. Her phone and a smoke were barely doing it. "Blitz is like that ALL the time."
"But I am sure he'll be a bit more… uh…" Moxxie tried to cover for his boss. The attempt wasn't exactly successful.
"Yeah, no." Loona snorted. "He is going to fuck up as he always does. I am coming to terms with it, do the same."
Muttering a very low and rare 'fuck' under his breath, Moxxie opened the door for the group to enter. That done, he chose to not eavesdrop and do something else. Usually he wouldn't even consider the option, gentle soul in Hell that he (usually) was, but the idea did cross his mind with good reason this time.
Moxxie was going to call his wife after all. The reason? They could be out of a job soon because their boss got obliterated. The idea of spying on the conversation, or having the Carmine rifle on hand to try and help, was there. But, really, come on. What would one single infernal weapon with the barest of blessings do to Lucifer? Or a proper angel? It was good enough to kill demons of any kind, even Sinners. But other than PERHAPS killing the Radio Demon, Moxxie knew there was nothing he could do.
…
He hoped Millie wouldn't try to rush over here for a fight. But he had one big fuckup this year, keeping this from his wife wasn't going to be the second. Millie may have forgiven his own greed and envy during that fucking mission at the camp, but Moxxie wasn't going to allow himself to forget.
Meanwhile, inside Blitzo's office, things were…
Well…
Blitzo hadn't lifted his head from the massive stack of papers yet. And by the looks of it, he couldn't be bothered.
"If you are expecting me to give half a shit, then I want to hear offers." The Imp said with so few fucks left that it could be felt. "This month is shaping to be drier than an old hag's tits and so is my patience."
Blitzo's appearance, far as Alastor and Lucifer were concerned, did not fully match his attitude. Those horns did speak for a strong Imp. And the height close to that of a human? It said the same thing. The signs boiled to the obvious: The Imp was strong in one manner or another. It could just be his attitude, it could be his determination, or maybe it was just strength wise with a brain slightly bigger than the usual Imp. Either way, he did not have the usual composition for a blowhard from Wrath, and his build had enough mixed signals and smells that neither Lucifer nor Alastor could determine WHAT exactly was going on in there.
In the end however, Blitzo was just an Imp. Cruel and brutal enough of a thing to say, sure, but the man was at the bottom rung of Hell's hierarchy. It shouldn't be hard to get from him what was needed. And of the group of four there were two determined to get it, each with their own reason.
"Not exactly the most endearing of first impressions, my good man." Alastor began, but it was clear the Imp wasn't going to let him go on with what he thought for sure would make Blitzo cower.
"I don't give a shit." Because Blitzo did neither care nor did he stop. He was a man with a mission and he wouldn't let anyone stop him. "Between repairs that I had to pay out of pocket and the bitch trying to drain every soul in my bank account I will -ONLY- give a crap if you bring money."
Alastor's temper began to bristle as a modicum of noise could be heard behind his voice. "Are you sure?"
"You could be GOD and I wouldn't give a shit." Blitzo flipped the paper away and took another. "I deal with Goetia daily and pork one in particular whenever it strikes our fancy. I have to stand Asmodeus being all lovey dovey with my best fucking friend when I visit his ass in Lust. I have to stop myself from drinking motherfucking Beelzebub under the table. And I have PISSED OFF MAMMON BY HELPING SAID BEST FRIEND DITCH THAT FUCKING CLOWN!"
The Imp ranted as he finally stopped what he was doing and looked up. Whether he was surprised or not was unknown. Hell, perhaps he was, but he hid it well behind a very angry and serious face as he brought up a red blade with a white edge.
A blessed knife. Carmine produced most likely.
"So you can be the biggest shot in Hell and I won't give a fuck." In fact Blitzo pointed his tail towards Lucifer. "Heck, the head honcho is here and you won't see me cowering. I have to make ends meet. I have mouths to feed and your radio bullshit won't stop me." Finally Blitzo deflated just enough. It was clear the anger and frustration filled his very core at the moment, but there was ONE thing about the present company that did interest him. Money. "But seeing as at least one of you is loaded and another is his daughter and a bleeding heart, I am inclined to hear you guys out." He lifted a finger. "Ten seconds. I will kick all of you out if you don't get my attention."
While Alastor wanted to say something else, the Radio Demon had to bit his tongue.
Would Charlie ignore it if he ripped this one to pieces like he did all those damn sharks? No, he wasn't a danger, and he had information they needed. Worse: This little yokel had a weapon that COULD hurt him. It was unlikely that Blitzo would be able to outmaneuver Alastor, or that Lucifer would allow him to get hurt, if only to make sure neither of them died (or making his daughter sad).
Alastor was not someone to fight a 'fair' fight unless he had a good reason to do so. This was not one of those situations and he won nothing by playing to the Imp's hand and acting up. It would only make the clearly annoyed Imp even worse and probably damage their chances.
Once more it was Emily the one to bring out some levity to the situation.
"Can he really do that?"
The question may very well have saved the situation. Even Lucifer was slightly put off by Blitzo's clearly antagonistic attitude and Charlie was unsure what to do. Alastor was very aware that opening his mouth would've let out not an offer, but a threat, so that only left Emily.
"Pfft, you are very innocent, aren't cha?" There was a change in attitude after Blitzo let out a little laugh. "What? Died recently? Don't know how it all works?"
"Emily didn't die." Charlie was at least quick to ride to Emily's defense. "She is a Seraphim. She is here to help stop the Exterminations. We need you to aid us with that."
Blitzo let out a whistle. "Okay, shit. That SOUNDS pretty important alright." He hummed a couple of times and relaxed his stance further. He even let the knife down. "Fine, I won't kick you out. I'll even do one better, miss angel. I'll teach ya something."
From somewhere under the desk Blitzo brought up another paper. This one was less numbers and more words, all of it crowned with two signatures at the bottom and enough legal speak to make you puke. Alastor preferred Deals for a reason. Contracts, even ones of this kind, were always a pain.
"See this? This is the contract that landed me this place." Blitzo smacked the thing on the desk. "It is not like a soul contract, but it is still protected by hellish laws. And you know what? Humans may call the big boss here the prince of lies and all that." The Imp pointed at Lucifer, no fucks given as the fallen angel turned his nonexistent nose at the assassin. "But if there is one thing he respects, it is a deal of ANY kind. Bit of a bitch ass weakness, but every Sin has their own. And Pride? Pride has to honor deals to a T."
Emily's face turned to surprise as she eyed Lucifer. "Is that true?"
"Eh, it goes mostly for the Deals I make myself." Lucifer shrugged. It wasn't a lie per se. "But considering I am 'the King of Hell' and all that, I am obligated by the realm to respect any and all Deals, Pacts and Contracts made within. I CAN forcefully break or infringe on the laws, but it is beyond unpleasant."
"And that is why I want to hear a decent offer now." Blitzo cut to the chase as he clapped his hands. "You want something? Fine. *I* want something too. So let's hear what you are ready to give in exchange of… whatever you need from me."
Lucifer snapped his fingers, much to everyone's surprise.
He had his arms crossed and then, out of nowhere, one was upright and the other was holding his cane, hand on the golden apple crowning it. Just as quickly a portal appeared and a chestlanded in front of Blitzo, opening and spilling some of its contents everywhere.
You could almost hear Blitzo's eyes turn into dollar signs.
"That is an opening of what I offer."
Blitzo's whole mood seemed to improve. It was as if he was a kid in a candy shop. Whatever little treasures were in that chest had been enough to make his day, if not his whole month.
"Fuck. You don't open, your majesty. You bring down the doors with a fucking ram." Blitzo laughed as he fished what seemed to be a large, oval, red gem.
A quick look from all those present and they all saw what Blitzo had noticed: There was a screaming face within the gemstone.
'Soulstone'. There were very few ends far worse than having your very existence erased. Whether the 'final' death of a soul brought it back to the cycle of life, allowed you to be born anew, threw you into the void or shattered your essence to create new souls, no one but the most ancient beings knew. But a Soulstone? That was a prison worse than the worst life possible in Hell.
It was also very valuable. Soulstones were basically eternal power sources, even if they had to let the soul within 'rest' for a while when it 'ran out' of power. It could be useful in so many ways. But that wasn't all.
Soulstones not only had human souls. They sometimes had ancient and powerful demon souls within. Most demons, from Imps to the eldritch entities of Hell, could live very long. This was not usually the case, varying in meaning depending on the species of course. Eldritch entities could live hundreds, if not millions of years, perhaps more. Nonetheless few lived enough to get to 'old age', or to grow powerful enough to be able to form a Soulstone.
See, Soulstones had one thing in common: If you had one and it had you marked as its owner, and you had it close by, it could save you from death. Even the erasing power of Heaven would not really kill you. It did not make materializing back in Hell any less painful, and the Soulstone would break, freeing the soul within after use, but it was basically an 'extra life'.
What diverged from Soulstone to Sousltone was the power, and this was differentiated by the color which, in turn, determined the Sin the Soulstone held. Blitzo's give Soulstone, being Red, meant Pride: Pride meant Charisma, the ability to empower one's words, to be 'right', or to have whispers in your mind telling you what a person may want to hear. Such Soulstones could even slowly heal scars and imperfections, quietly guiding a body to its 'perfect' (in the owner's mind) body.
Simply put: Soulstones were treasures. There were perhaps tens of millions of them in Hell. Tens of millions for a population of hundreds of Billions, if not a few trillions, perhaps tens of trillions. Alastor knew much but he was iffy on that number. Not even the Sins and their massive reach could keep up with all the souls in Hell. But still, the point stands: Soulstones are rare and highly coveted.
And Lucifer just threw one around casually. Even he would have a hard time finding too many of those to hoard.
"Glad you like it." Lucifer tapped his cane on the floor. It seemed like the Devil himself had regained his footing. "Because that is also option A for what I am about to tell you to do."
Blitzo stopped toying with gems, gold and other knick knacks to focus on Lucifer. "Whatcha got there? Some demands?"
"Of course. And not just what we need of you." Lucifer lifted a hand very slowly. The man had a soft voice, but his tone had gotten hard. Alastor quickly saw fit not to even move. "After all, you are right, you know? It is in my best interest to respect this contract of yours. I cannot evict you without it being a pain in my behind. But this stuff about going to the living world and killing humans? Now THAT is very much illegal. And you know why I know? Because anyone with such a business in Pride would need MY veto." A toothy and, very fittingly, devilish smile covered Lucifer's face. "Guess what kind of things I never forget about? Deals that involve me."
Silence filled the office for a moment before Blitzo let out a hiss. "Fffffffuck… You are telling me to close down business?"
Lucifer was quick to nod. "For a time, yes."
"And what the fuck do I do? This may fetch a nice price, but killing for Sinners is what put me and my people on the map." Blitzo threw everything he drew out back into the coffer with a clear pissed off expression. "What is option B if I tell you to shove it?"
"I get what I need from you, then I paint this room black with your blood." Lucifer was nonchalant on the extreme here. It clearly disturbed both his daughter and Emily, but Alastor understood why. This Imp had toyed with powers that, had he been in Lucifer's place, would've made him a dead man (violently, and painfully so) a long time ago. "That this business ends, for now at least, is non negotiable."
Blitzo just let out a much deeper hiss at the mental imagery. "Fuck and shit." He grumbled, rubbed his temple and frowned at Lucifer. "And I guess that is not all?"
Lucifer was quick to nod. "I feel an Asmodean crystal around here, correct?"
Blitzo groaned as he brought up the crystal; Not really a crystal, instead a gem exclusive to Hell and both discovered and harnessed by Asmodeus himself, the Lord of Lust. Its properties while dormant and yet to be attuned by Asmodeus were paltry, if any at all. When powered? They allowed demons to open portals to the living world.
In the old times human souls and demons alike had used them to get to the living world to do whatever. Ancient Sinners tried to use them to escape, and Alastor was, sadly, again brought back to the Hellhound lore in his head. Demons? They used it for many things back then; kidnaping humans, sowing mayhem, or just retrieving resources not found in Hell. Some of these resources had to do with the energies of Sin (Pride, Lust, Greed, Gluttony, etc) from living humans. The only particular Sin energy still harvested as of today was, unsurprisingly, the one used to create more Asmodean Crystals: Lust. As such Succubi were almost exclusively the only species to still use them.
Then again, as Blitzo just demonstrated here, there were others willing to have a go.
"Good. But that one is new, isn't it? I can feel it. It hasn't had much mileage." At this point Lucifer's tone and visage grew much more serious. "Which means someone else has been helping you get to Earth. Another problem that brings more shit from Heaven to my doorstep. And as it turns out, that is not something I can tolerate anymore."
The Imp sucked air through his fangs as he tucked the crystal away, as if fearing that Lucifer would just gleam its origin somehow. "Do I reaaaally need to? You already are telling me to shut down!"
"I am shutting you down. For NOW. And I am offering you a temporary job." Lucifer corrected. This made the Imp arch an eyebrow. "We need information that you have, but I also need someone capable, but not too powerful, to be a representative from Hell."
Charlie and Emily both shared a look, with the Princess of Hell venturing out a simple. "Dad?"
"A second, sweetie." Lucifer used his far more pleasant fatherly tone, even if the babying got to Charlie just as much as Alastor when he tried to be endearing.
The Radio Demon just couldn't stand the man making the sheltered princess look even more immature than she already was. It was an endearing quality to be so nice and innocent, but also vexing. Alastor didn't want Charlie becoming even worse. It wouldn't do well with his plans either.
Lucifer wasn't privy to such thoughts however, so he kept speaking. "You see, Blitz. My daughter's little plan with her hotel seems to have attracted some attention."
"Yeah, no shit." Either the Imp was confident enough when it came to the idea of his safety, or he just didn't give a fuck. "I am surprised you didn't just burn down the 666 News headquarters with the shitshow that was the interview. Fuck, I would've liked to see the place go up in flames too! Would've killed that creepy doppelganger Imp that looks like me and was attending that trainwreck."
Lucifer's lip twitched for a second. Oh, so he HAD seen the interview. Alastor wasn't sure, but the reaction just now confirmed it.
"I wish I could, but Charlie got herself into that mess and I had no business meddling there." And while Charlie at least seemed happy to hear that her father respected her choices, good or bad, she missed the 'Though I wish I could kill that bitch, Killjoy' that escaped her father's lips. Alastor didn't, and his smirk only grew. "But this is different. She is trying to get the Exterminations to end. My dear got to Heaven to try and plead with the angels, only to get rejected."
Blitzo's eyes widened. "Well! Shit. You got more guts than I thought, lady. Kudos to you." The Imp clapped a couple times before he gave Charlie the stink eye. "But it seems to me that they told you to fuck off. That, and we are still weeks away from getting shafted"
"That is not true!" Emily rose to her friend's defense, much to Charlie's delight. Though the poor Seraphim deflated in quick order. "Well… I mean… Many angels heard Charlie. But my sister is the voice of Heaven right now and… she doesn't believe Charlie's plan can work."
Blitzo gave a quick nod. "So… you a big shot in Heaven, squirt?"
Emily grimaced. "Not… really? I am basically tasked with ensuring everyone is happy and has all they need."
The Imp clicked his tongue. "But you seem to want to help princess candy puff here?"
While Charlie and Lucifer both looked at Blitzo with withering glares, Alastor did his best not to chuckle while Emily rubbed her arms with a shy smile.
"I do. It… probably is going to cause trouble between me and my sister. Between me and many in Heaven. But I think Charlie is right." Emily took a much firmer stance. "The Extermination was a secret in Heaven. No one knew about it but a select few. My own sister lied to me! And Charlie showed me people that were much worse before she started working with them. They are… well, they aren't 'good', I think. But they are nicer." At this point Emily sounded as resolute as she could get. "I believe that at least SOME people can be redeemed. It shouldn't be a slaughter every year just because."
The Imp was clearly used to people spilling their guts in front of him. He even seemed able to nod along and follow whatever Emily was saying without spewing a condescending word here or there. Alastor had to admit he was surprised.
"Huh, it seems you at least have some guts. Not the hoity toity thing I thought a proper angel to be. I mean, we had a scrap with some Cherubs last year and all, but nothing too big. Besides, everyone knows Cherubs are little shits, so no surprise there." Blitzo seemed to shrug as if it was no big deal.
Alastor would have loved to correct the man. Cherubs were the bottom of Heaven's hierarchy, but they still were much more powerful than regular Imps. Perhaps he had misjudged the man.
It was also clear that this was more than news to Emily, if her shocked face had anything to do with it. But either the young angel was unable to form words at this revelation or she was as speechless as Charlie herself, as the two women were sharing glances. They both knew that Heaven meddled with mortals too, at least now, but that they would start a fight with demons directly?
Whatever. If nothing else the Imp had survived. Had he died before this then Emily's attempt would've been stillborn most likely.
"That aside." Blitzo stretched until a loud pop could be heard coming from his back. Then the Imp rested against the chair, legs quickly on the table and tail helping him maintain a cool and aloof pose. "I don't think four kick ass assassins are exactly what you guys are looking for. Whatever… this is." He waved at both Charlie and Emily. "Doesn't seem like it needs a bullet or a stab added to it. I mean, I'd love to have 'Hired by the Morningstars' somewhere in my resume to entice more assholes to come and ask for my services, but…"
"That is where you are wrong, my boy." Lucifer finally lifted his cane to point at the Imp. "Because this business has to do with the living world."
Blitzo sat back down in a flash.
"You don't want us going topside, but not because I did an 'oopsie' with the law." The Imp was an idiot, Alastor could see it. But he was also savvy enough to get a clue when the time came for him to get serious. "So what is going on?"
Lucifer, instead of answering, offered a chance for Emily to speak up.
The young Seraphim took a breath, doing her best not to voice her previous concerns for those Cherubs Blitzo had mentioned, then got to it.
"Many Sinners come to you, right, ?"
Blitzo gave a quick nod. "People wrong them in life. They pay us. We make things even." Then offered a toothy smile. "Permanently."
Emily let out a little gulp. It wasn't that she was in danger. Goodness no. Alastor doubted ANYTHING in Hell could truly harm Emily, no matter what they tried to do. Still, the bloodthirsty Imp was far more than the young angel was used to.
"Yes, I, uh, see." But she at least had the gumption to get back into it quickly. "Well, I am sure that one of your previous clients could be perfect to demonstrate Charlie's idea. This person made a mistake, a crime of passion, one that ended lives. I will not excuse her actions, but there is a good chance that she could redeem herself and prove that a second chance is worth pursuing. If that were the case, then the Exterminations could end! I managed to delay the next one until the year ends, like it usually happens, but-."
"Wait! So Extermination day is back in six months, not a couple weeks!?" Blitzo all but screamed loud enough to nearly crack the window in his office. "Fuck! I could be killing people right now!"
"Mr. Blitzo, please." Alastor could enjoy some of the man's antics, but the interruption granted him. Enough time had been wasted and the slowly humming screech in the air told the Imp to sit down and shut up. "The lady hadn't finished. Have some manners."
With a small show of force getting the Imp to sit down and shut up, Emily found herself out of words. Luckily, Charlie came to her aid, a hand on her shoulder.
"Emily got us a chance. But she thinks it will only work with help from someone that was part of your client's life before the actions that later required your services. For this to work we need her to agree to come with us and meet with said relative." A quick glance at the angel made Charlie get a nod in answer to her unasked question. "We not only plan to try and redeem this person, but also bring Hell and Heaven to light in the living world. This won't be 'just' a hotel, but a way to shock and awe everyone! If even humanity not only learns that the afterlife exists, but that there ARE second chances, Heaven won't be able to launch another Extermination again!"
Well, that was a bit too much hoping, and also more than Emily herself had said, but it wasn't too far off. Still, Alastor thought their hopes to be far too high when Heaven had shown its true colors already.
Blitzo, for his part, was just looking at the princess like she grew a second head.
"You just fucked my business over." The Imp sighed, and Alastor realized the man was wishing for some strong booze right now. "If you reveal Hell and Heaven exists, then I am screwed. I mean, kudos to you, kid. You have huge balls, or ovaries, or whatever the fuck. I don't care. You just screwed me and I have zero fucks to give left."
Charlie grimaced, even Emily made a face. Neither woman liked the Imp's business, and that was putting it mildly, but he wasn't wrong. The pair was basically foreclosing the place in a way, right? Even Alastor felt somewhat down, if only because he thought such a bloodletting enterprise was a perfect fit for Hell and a way to ensure the damnation and suffering of so many people by their own hands! A fitting thing, really. And while the deer demon was nowhere near sympathetic enough to truly feel bad for the Imp, much less so after his behavior, he could at least sympathize with his drive.
Lucifer was more pragmatic. Realistic, you could say. Funny when coming from a dreamer.
"That is where you are wrong, my good Imp." Lucifer said with no little mirth in his voice. "Your business will likely boom."
Everyone looked at him, with Blitzo clearly not in the mood to entertain bullshit. "Your majesty. Kindly fuck off." The Imp groused, though Lucifer didn't seem to mind. "How will this help my business? The moment I give you what you want, even if you offer me a 'temporary job', I am out of the killing bizz. I already had enough problems with humans trying to stick their noses into this shit BEFORE Hell was made public knowledge."
"True, it will become more dangerous after the fact. But it isn't going to end." Lucifer made sure that his tone was once more serious as he stepped towards the Imp's desk. "There are many things I had to think over after I went to visit my daughter. Many opinions I decided to look over. To give her and her idea a chance."
Lucifer admitted all of this without flinching. It was bothering him, that much was obvious, but the sincerity behind the words made Charlie smile with hope. Even Emily seemed to grow a big smile. Alastor was just hoping the other shoe would drop quickly enough. This sappines was too much for the Radio Demon.
"But there is one thing that stayed the same. Sinners, humans, are dangerous and insane." Well, there it was. Charlie and Emily faltered in their smiles as Alastor's own grew. Lucifer wasn't lying. "This is not their fault, in a sense. After being kicked from the Garden of Eden, after Father made more humans to ensure the species would survive on Earth, His playground and testbed for His creations, they developed many things." Lucifer began lifting fingers as he enumerated. "Fear of the unknown and the violent reaction to danger. Xenophobia to ward off those that would do them harm. A vengeful spirit to fight off those that already hurt you in hopes not only of satisfaction, but of future safety. A need to stay in power so life itself can do you either no harm, or at least less of it. The list goes on and on…"
Blitzo nodded lazily, at this point barely paying attention. "Fine, that is all good and dandy. Your point?"
"Humans developed all that to make their lives easier. You know what else made their lives easier?" Lucifer didn't expect an answer as he went on. "Tools." The tip of his cane, the golden apple used as a pommel, landed gently on Blitzo's head. "The moment Hell is made known will be pandemonium. But after all is said and done? Many will know that there is a group in Hell willing to 'settle old scores' LONG before they are dead. And you know what? Whether it be for safety and reassurance for their families and loved ones, or perhaps revenge and 'peace of mind', many will come for you. Work will be more dangerous, true, but you will not lack clients."
Everyone took a moment to process that.
Alastor knew Lucifer was right. If demonic means were given to those on Earth to 'settle old scores', many would take them. Pragmatism, fear, a desire for revenge and simple hate were all options, depending on who you ask.
Charlie and Emily were both cringing at the thought, but neither woman could say Lucifer was wrong. Charlie loved to hope for the best in people, to try and draw it out so they became better, but she also knew not everyone was fit for that. She was a hopeful, not an idiot, even if sometimes her hopes made her look like one.
Emily was no better. She knew that souls in Heaven were mostly great people. There were a few stinkers, like Adam, a person who was given a lot of leeway just because he was the first man to ever exist. Heck, even his cursing and general attitude was ignored in Heaven because, sadly, it had become the norm for him to be borderline insufferable, even to Emily. But ignoring him? Almost everyone in Heaven was nice while… Earth was not so much. Emily had seen things she thought would never happen in the living world. A single month's worth of time and she was having doubts.
Lucifer wasn't done though. "But that will not be the only reason people will come to you, my good man. No. They will come to you because they will see you in action."
The Imp couldn't help but perk up slightly. "This sounds to me like the big boss needs someone offed. That doesn't seem like something you'd want if you are trying to 'redeem' some schmuck."
"It is not what I want you to do. It is what will have to be done." Lucifer cleared as everyone in the room focused on him even more than before. "I was not lying when I said humans fear the unknown. Even after they are told, they will still fear. Fear that there is an afterlife. Fear that just by knowing, they'll be dragged to the worst possible outcome. Fear that, if they don't stop the unknown from BEING known, things will get worse."
Blitzo was quick to catch up. "You think your lil girl and her angel friend will be attacked?"
Charlie and Emily's eyes both widened. Alastor was unmoved. Had they thought there would be no one stupid enough to dare do such a thing?
"Of course they will be attacked." Lucifer sounded tired, as if this had to be the most stupid question ever. "Humans can be as irrational as the most deranged demon. And the most devoted and faithful? The most degenerate and fallen? Both will want something. One side will want to eradicate the demon taint, the other may be interested in Emily's angel blood."
Charlie made a face while Emily squeaked and hid behind her friend ever so slightly. Alastor would admit he had some respect for Lucifer pulling no punches whatsoever here. If the pair wanted this to work they had to understand there were dangers.
"That is not all of course: Demons and angels alike may be opposed to this." Now that got everyone's attention to switch from indifferent, shocked or just interested, to downright laser focused on his words. "Hell and Heaven will both be aware of this. Heaven will monitor it and Hell will have to be informed or shit will hit the fan so hard even I won't be able to contain it. Sooner or later that will mean reprisal from more than mortals."
"Uh-huh." Blitzo seemed somewhat invested on that front. Alastor could guess why, and he could also guess the reason behind Blitzo's quick and apparent refusal. "And you expect me and my little merry band of killers to go fight some heavenborn above Cherubs? Because let me tell you, that ain't gonna happen. I may be slightly crazy, petty and random, but I am not THAT stupid."
"Wait!"
"Lucifer!"
Ah, Alastor had expected that. Lucifer's words had made sense to him. I mean. Really? Charlie and Emily both doubted Heaven would do something? Because make no mistake: Neither were surprised when they heard that demons would likely interfere.
Alastor would've been more than willing to refuse a Deal from whoever was stupid enough to make a REAL bet on demons not trying to screw this up. Even he had some standards.
But apparently the two innocent among the five present seemed to have a clear shocked stance, and faces to match too! It was as if they had felt personally attacked at Lucifer's words and it had taken more than a single moment to process the very idea of the King of Hell actually believing them. More so when Blitzo seemed more than convinced of their veracity.
"You cannot be serious." Emily took a step forward. "Sera would-."
"I hate to interrupt." Alastor did not, in fact, hate it. He disliked it, true. It was not polite, but he was unwilling to let the woman delude herself. "Adam himself said he would come for the hotel, didn't he? At least that is what dear Vaghata shared with us."
Lucifer turned very, very slowly. Just enough to glance at the trio that was behind him now. "Excuse me?"
Emily flinched. This was the only time they had heard Lucifer drop his tone so low, and so cold, that everyone present felt as if Hell was about to freeze over.
"I-" Charlie began, only to have her father cut any explanation she was willing to give.
"Adam is many things, including a petty little bitch." Lucifer turned around to face the group, fully ignoring the Imp that was looking at them and wishing for popcorn after his own rollercoaster ride with this conversation. "But he is also a sniveling coward when it comes to women with a backbone. So, tell me." Lucifer inched ever so slightly towards Emily. "Did Sera ever tell him NOT to attack my daughter's hotel?"
"..." Emily opened her mouth, then closed it. It took a second for her to answer. And the answer she gave hurt her more than Lucifer's anger. "No…"
And Lucifer saw it. The betrayal. The doubt. The hurt. His anger abated, luckily having brought no demonic qualities to his visage. But Alastor knew it had been close, very close. There were few things Alastor could do, that anyone could do, to force Lucifer to show just how powerful he was.
As much as Alastor hated the idea, Lucifer could unmake him with a snap of his fingers, at least now. And he could do so to anyone else with but a flicker of his hand. Only a purposeful and direct action would be needed for the stronger Sinners, and even then it was probably more a message than a need in the end. The fact that Lucifer was a wreck and trying to reconnect with Charlie had been, in all likelihood, the only reason why Alastor did not end up worse for wear when they interacted.
But the Sinner would at some point need not fear the man. If this worked, then Alastor would make sure of it. How it would come to pass and in which ways he would stay with Lucifer, be it above or below, though he preferred the former to the later, was a matter for another time.
Finally, Lucifer relented.
"I don't want to scare, anger or hurt either of you." The King of Hell admitted in a much more gentle tone, almost afraid of nearly letting his anger take control. "There may not be any actions coming from Heaven in response to your attempts. But you must understand. You two saw: Heaven… those in charge at least. They do not care. They do not hear. Any idea that isn't steelclad in the duties and beliefs they profess is… ignored, at best. Refused most of the time or…" Lucifer looked away. A painful memory was clear in his mind. Alastor did not need to guess what it was. "They can lash out if those ideas, or actions, do not line with what they want or expect."
Emily sniffled and Charlie tried to be there for her, but as the young Seraphim slumped ever so slightly Alastor knew that the poor woman would have to either ignore this, or crumble. To have one's foundations shaken, even slightly, rattled people to the core.
For someone as innocent as Emily had been, and still was, it would hurt so much more.
"No." The poor Seraphim let her lip tremble a bit, just for a moment. Then she tried to steel her resolve. "It… It may… It could happen. You are right." She took a deep breath and thanked Charlie's support with a nod. "I… I just don't want to believe anyone would do it. I-I just… I am trying to help people. T-that is what I was tasked to do, t-to m-make people h-happy. I-I can't-I-."
Hiccups. Silence. Tears.
Alastor understood.
He did not share Emily's hope for Heaven to be more than a paradise for those of a certain predisposition. The Radio Demon knew, after all, that while Hell accepted almost everything, save the truly wretched that even most Sinners and demons hunted down, Heaven accepted no deviation whatsoever.
Heaven, in a way, was a Hell of its own making.
And in Hell… there were those willing to do anything to keep the status quo. Light or Dark, the difference was in the background.
The King of Hell laid a hand on Emily's free shoulder. "Your sister may indeed believe in what you are doing." Though Lucifer was likely able to hide his doubt from his child and fellow angel, Alastor was well versed on lies and how to craft them. The Devil knew his words were fool's gold. "But Exterminators don't exactly obey her, even if they in particular shouldn't be allowed to go to the living world. Many other angels aren't exactly tied to Sera either. Individuals, or groups even, may not see what you do with good eyes."
Now, THAT? That was true. Alastor would willingly admit that at least that piece of sincerity should help Emily, if only a bit.
"Yeah, not to be a dick." And then we had Blitzo. "But if you are trying to do something that will shake up things? Well, not only are you making my game turn into a minefield. I mean, we made it clear it is going to be even harder to off idiots once I.M.P gets so much recognition."
Charlie deadpanned. "Do you really think it is the time to be complaining about that?"
"Hey. I have to make a living." The Imp shrugged. "But really. I may be pissed off at how you guys may screw me over in the future. But you are also giving me a chance to flip off Heaven as a whole and make I.M.P big enough to always be on the news. But anyway, my point: Someone is going to think that you two are just screwing them over. I don't care how 'nice'." And Blitzo's air quotes were so thick everyone had a reaction to them. "Any of you think everyone in Heaven is. There are ALWAYS going to be people that want things to stay the same. Some are assholes, others have good reasons. I mean, I don't want I.M.P to get fucked, but here we are. That said, I see the opportunity in this." Blitzo got off his seat to walk in front of Lucifer. "So give me the deets and a payment plan. I am not going to work for free here."
Lucifer snapped his fingers again. A golden sheet of paper appeared in front of the Imp. Words began to appear as Lucifer spoke.
"You and your crew will guard my daughter and Emily, as well as anyone working with them while on the living world." Lucifer gave Blitzo his undivided attention now. "Goetia or proper highborn demons would attract too much attention and be too easy to detect. Imps and Hellhounds have a much easier time concealing their presence, more so with the right equipment. You'll achieve this with costly means, sure, but I offer you to pay ten times your average monthly income for every month employed." Another snap and a pen was conjured. "You send my people at the castle the paperwork, I send you the funds. I even offer a payment equal to three months' wages as a hiring fee. With that you should be able to get some magic items that will make you nigh impossible to detect with magic, at least beyond your presence, not your origin. Any other demon, even Succubi, would be much easier to find out in the mortal world."
Blitzo looked over the contract with interest, as did Alastor. Oh how he wished he could see Lucifer crafting his magic. This was not an act like the one he did to 'fight' off the deer demon back at the Hotel. Here Lucifer was being serious and to the point.
And the Imp seemed to be nodding and humming as he read the work offer. Even the most stupid among the Hellborn knew that, magically speaking, Hellhounds and Imps were at the bottom of the rung, not just socially speaking. It was a problem for them most of the time, true. But in this case?
Hell, they could all but be invisible, in a sense. A perfect quality for an assassin if there was one.
"Well, it is not like I haven't done bodyguard work before. And it usually ends with me killing some assholes sooner or later, so eh. Work is work." And while he was nonchalant it was clear Blitzo was more than happy to sign on the dotted line.
Luckily for him this wasn't a 'Contract', one for his soul, because Alastor could swear the Imp had skimmed most of it.
"Don't think I forgot about the name." And while Lucifer was clearly allowing this to be 'gentle' when it came to strong arm someone, Alastor would admire the man's determination to have his affairs in order at a time like this if nothing else. "We may leave this for later, but you WILL tell me."
"Fine. Ass." Blitzo grumbled, clearly unable to get the King of Hell off his case. Alastor was aware that Lucifer had been in a slump for a long time, but this situation was clearly bringing his old drive to life. The Imp didn't much care for that, just resigning himself to his fate. "Anyway, that leaves us with one teensy detail. Who is the bitch you need info for? I promise I kept tabs with all our old 'benefactors' in case any of them tried to fuck with us."
None of those present doubted that. Blitzo looked like the type that could hold a grudge, spy on his neighbor or read your diary if given the chance. It was not at all strange for him to make sure anyone that purchased his services was always at least somewhere near his weapon's line of sight.
This was Hell after all. Alastor would've considered the Imp little more than fodder if he didn't do this much due diligence.
Emily was the one to shake off any invading thoughts and offer the name. And how Blitzo's eyes bugged out seemed to tell Alastor that there was a bit more to the woman's job than they all knew.
"The woman's name is Miss Mayberry. Sarah Mayberry."
