The rooms were far nicer than she had imagined they would be, seeming much more like a proper bedroom than a hotel; Hers was furnished with wood furniture in an array of stains and intricate woven carpets, but she was promised anything she wished to make herself more comfortable with good time. Clover was left alone to settle, Charlie leaving behind the temptation of real food and hospitality once she was ready for it. The bathroom was dated, the grout between the pink tiles slightly discolored and the sink faucet dripping slowly onto the porcelain- The small shower was the unsuspecting highlight, and her tattered clothes were tossed haphazardly into the floor of her bedroom so she could make use of it. She wasn't sure how long she stayed there, her weary legs giving out as her muscles unwound themselves of the knots the night at tied them into, but Clover sat on the floor drawing spirals on the sliding glass door until the water began to grow cold. The mildly cracked bathroom mirror offered another opportunity to examine her new-found and freshly washed form, Clover wrapping herself in the red bath towel that hung from the rack and smudging the foggy glass with her fingers; The condensation warped her reflection, blurring the red fade of her hair until it looked as if blood settled on the mirror's surface.

She'd seen many different types of people since arriving in Pentagram City- Everything from anthropomorphic beings like Husker or Cyrus to the towering demon that she'd run into, to the almost uncanny-valley demons like Alastor, and finally the more normal beings like Vaggie. Clover felt she was somewhere in the middle, human enough to remain recognizable to herself, but altered enough that anyone else might have to look twice to find familiarity to her; Once faintly olive skin now stood white, the texture feeling like velvet under padded fingertips instead of the fur she'd expected. She immediately thought of a childhood tale at the comparison, giggling slightly when on closer examination she found hearts padded into her palms and a small puff residing on her lower back. She was a bunny- or a bunny demon?- and she was thankful that this was what she ended up with in comparison to what she'd witnessed in others.

Lucky for her, Clover had always been a sucker for animals.

The sharp knock on the outside door drew her from her self-investigation, her ears knocking against her cheeks as she turned towards the noise; Some of the additions to her person would take some getting used to, it seemed. Clover held her towel tightly as she opened the door a crack and peeked through, finding Vaggie standing a few steps back from the bathroom with a stack of clothes clutched to her chest.

"Hey- Sorry to bother you but Charlie wants to know if you'd be okay with going out and getting you some things before dinner."

"She doesn't have to do that," Clover replied, resting her warm skin against the cold varnish of the bathroom door. "I was kind of planning to try and find a job tomorrow."

"If you don't let her, she's just going to find other ways to help you- This is nothing coming from her, trust me. Besides, I think you'll feel a little better once you have a few things of your own."

Clover didn't want to seem ungrateful for their generosity, so she just nodded in lieu of a response, taking the clothing from her arms and shutting herself in the bathroom once again; She really didn't know what to say, she wasn't used to being taken care of- Quite the opposite, actually- and it just felt easier to play along.

The blow-dryer screeched when it was turned up too high, so drying her hair and, by extension, her ears, took longer than expected. She gave up when the tips of her hair were still damp and turned to the task of getting dressed so she wouldn't keep them waiting any longer. A black dress, dark tights, a white button-up with cap sleeves, its attached black ribbon bow, and a red sweater made up the pile of clothes she'd been given. She layered them on to fight off the chill that had begun to form without the warmth of the hair dryer or the shower's steam, save from the white button-up she tossed onto her bed as she stepped back into her bedroom. Vaggie had stayed leaning in the open doorway, arms crossed as she stared down the dark hallway.

"Thank you for the clothes," Clover said, her brow furrowing as Vaggie turned towards her with an equally confused expression.

"Those were on your bed already, what-"

"Hey! You look cute!" Charlie popped through the doorway with a smile bright enough to light up the room, the hotel's host nodding back towards the long hallway outside. "Ready to go?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

They'd been wandering around one of the nicer stores in the shopping area they'd taken her to for about an hour now, Charlie throwing clothing onto a gathering pile in the poor store attendant's arms while Clover and Vaggie followed behind her carrying on an off an on casual conversation about Hell's fashions. Vaggie had fallen silent sometime after they'd entered the fitting room, watching Charlie bounce around inquiring about sizing and color options with a soft smile while Clover picked out an armful of clothes to sort through first.

The entire thing was a little too late 90s teen flick for Clover's liking, but she wasn't going to begin complaining now.

"What did you like, do before you fell?" Vaggie asked, helping Clover hang up the mountain of clothes they'd collected.

"You mean like, for work?" Clover was confused as to why anyone would care about life before, but she played along. "Or hobbies?"

"Yeah, like, what makes you happy? You don't have to talk about any family, or boyfriends, or whatever, just-"

The door closed with a loud " click!" before she could finish, leaving Clover to sift through her spoils in pseudo silence: The odd electro-pop song that filled the room alongside its pink fluorescents kept it from being too stagnant, its poignant lyrics playing slightly too loud for her liking.

"Yeah, you fell in love, but you fell deeper in this pit,"

Well, that was a little on the nose- Thanks Hell.

"While death rains from above, so count your blessings cause this is it,"

It was too quiet, her thoughts started to get the best of her in the silence- Answering Vaggie's questions seemed like the best way to keep driving herself mad at a minimum.

"I went to school for Media," Clover replied, the sharp echo of her voice causing her to wince.

"What?"

Pausing her wrestling with an ill-fitting sweater, Clover lifted onto her toes to call over the top of the dressing room door.

"College, I graduated with a degree in media. Film, television, radio, journalism, all that stuff."

"So you're into movies?"

Clover snorted at the simplified reply, but she was used to people assuming that her degree was short-sighted; This reaction was far less irritating than being ordered to name her top ten films so some Autor wannabe undergrad could rip the list apart before asking for her phone number.

"I guess you could say that. I like films, theater, music, hell I went and saw a concert a couple of months before-" Clover sighed, already feeling her tongue begin to tie itself into knots. "Well, anyway, that's kind of what I do- Did with my time."

"I hate to say it, but you might actually get along with some of the old timers back at the hotel," Vaggie's voice drifted away as she'd taken the discards Clover had tossed over the top of the door. "What concert? Like, what genre?

"For music? I kind of listen to all kinds of stuff. My playlists go from swing to thrasher metal, I would say I ' listen to everything' but everyone says that," Clover went quiet again, taking her time buttoning up the next shirt while she mourned the loss of her hours of curated playlists before continuing the conversation. "The last band I saw play was a local punk thing, but I didn't stay very long."

Just as she had been then, Clover was becoming overstimulated under the bright lights and blaring pop music, so she hid herself in the hood of a large sweatshirt while she waited for Vaggie to respond.

"I would've guessed something a little more helter-skelter, with how you were dressed when you got here. You looked like you'd been to a funeral."

"It was something like that."

The pile of things that she'd kept was larger than she'd meant it to be, even with her silent vow to not let Charlie get her more than was absolutely necessary for her to get back on her feet. Clover began sorting through the things that had worked, noting the pause in Vaggie's pestering and attempting to turn the conversation more positive.

"But, uh- I find new things to like all the time. Who knows, maybe I'll find something new to keep me entertained down here."

Another group of things disappeared above the door, and Vaggie seemed to take the bait.

"Things work a little weird down here. Lots of what we have of the world comes from the knowledge of people like you, so I can't promise that you'll be able to see the newest movie or whatever- But we can try and find you some stuff!"

"That's okay. I really enjoy the classics anyway, and I can do without it until I can afford it my- "

"I know that, fuck, can't you take hospitality from anyone without arguing?" The top of Vaggie's head appeared over the top of the door, the demon squinting down at Clover.

"No."

It was the truth, she didn't know how to accept things without feeling guilty.

Luckily, there was humor to her flat response- Vaggie began to laugh, the sound drawing Charlie's attention as Clover pulled together the modest amount of things she absolutely needed so that they could leave; A couple of changes of clothes, something she could wear to a potential job, and something to function as pajamas. Anything had to be her responsibility, besides, she had her mysteriously gifted clothing and could probably salvage what she'd worn on the way down. Clover kept her eyes as far away from the price as possible, not wanting to see the total, and tried not to comment on how the bags she insisted on carrying to the car were far heavier than she expected.

The ride back was mostly silent, with Clover taking to staring out the windows while Vaggie and Charlie discussed hotel business. It was the mention of Alastor that drove her to join the conversation, taking note of how quickly Charlie tried to steer the mention of his involvement with the hotel into a different direction with quick glances in Clover's direction; Vaggie missed that look a second too late, continuing on her tirade with vigor.

"We don't know what he wants, I understand that he's helping but that man doesn't do anything without wanting something in return."

"So, what's the deal with Mr. Tall, Red, and Pointy?" Clover asked as she sat forward in her seat.

Both Charlie and Vaggie froze, turning to look at Clover before glancing a frantic couple's communication at each other; Charlie, obviously trying to approach the subject with her seemingly never-ending positive outlook, waded back into the conversation carefully.

"Well, he's the facilities manager! He offered to help us get the hotel up and running more smoothly, and we're very grateful for his input."

The twitching of Vaggie's eye was enough for Clover to turn her curiosity onto her in search of perhaps a more honest or well-rounded answer.

"You obviously don't like him."

"He's dangerous," Vaggie nearly growled her response, her frown growing more furious. "It's like living with a bomb in the house."

"Oh, come on Vaggie, he's done nothing to make us think that!"

It was becoming increasingly obvious that Charlie had this conversation more than once, and even though Clover put some value on her good faith in Alastor, her intrigue was itching to make this far more informative than her hostess seemed content with.

"What do you mean?"

An echoed sigh filled the car, Charlie seeming to give up on redirecting as Vaggie sat forward, and Clover couldn't help but lean into her out of interest.

"Alastor is an Overlord of Hell, a demon who has grown in power from taking on the souls of other demons, using them to do his bidding and reaping the benefits. He's powerful, a dangerous being of chaos that finds entertainment in watching us all suffer and spreading the knowledge of his carnage through his broadcast, earning him the name the Radio Demon. From what I hear, he was as twisted in life as he is in death- He is absolutely not to be trusted."

These people did like their theatrics, Clover laughed to herself.

"No offense, but he's the most mild-mannered man I've met so far," Clover couldn't help the small laugh that colored her words, watching the vein in Vaggie's forehead grow larger as Charlie chimed in.

"Alastor is- Complicated. But we're lucky to have him on our side, right Vaggie?"

Begging glances quelled Vaggie's wrath, and Clover pondered over the information she learned. It was hard to believe that someone who'd made, arguably, the best impression out of all four hotel staff she'd become acquainted with was as bad as Vaggie said- But Clover had dealt with the repercussions of misguided judgment before, so who was to say she wasn't already walking that woeful path once again. She would just have to take it all with a grain of salt, Clover deciding that judging someone without first getting to know anything about them personally wasn't a trait she'd like to pick up in Hell.

She walked alone up to her room in the hotel, Charlie and Vaggie disappearing down the hallway to follow the smell of dinner being prepared while Clover took some time to put away her spoils; It was with more than a little annoyance that she found that Charlie had rescued some of the discarded but worthy clothing and snuck them back into the bag. Clover wasn't good at dealing with kindness, especially not now when her wounds were still so fresh, but all she could do at this moment was accept it and promise to give something back in the end.

The clatter from the kitchen drew her in the right direction once she'd wandered back downstairs, and she was lucky that no one noticed when she stood awkwardly in the doorway deciding whether she should announce herself or not. The familiar faces of Charlie and Alastor made up two-thirds of the kitchen's occupants, the two of them chatting idly while the former brought plates down from the cabinets. The third person, a small and unfamiliar woman with neon pink hair and a poodle skirt, was bustling around the pots on the stove. She manically checked the oven every few seconds before quickly changing to peering into the pots on the stovetop, only looking up from her work when a timer dinged. When she spied Clover standing in the doorway with one impossibly wide eye, her whole face lit up as she waved a tiny arm above her head and called out to her.

"Hi!"

Charlie and Alastor turned at the single syllable, watching as the tiny woman quickly made her way down from the countertop and scurried over to Clover; She barely came to her hip, sharp teeth grinning up at her as she continued to wave and introduced herself.

"I'm Niffty!"

"I'm Clover, nice to meet you," Clover replied, her hands awkwardly hovering beside her hips, unsure if she should wave back.

"I know! Your clothes were really dirty- And torn apart! I almost threw them away! They were covered in lots of blood, I'm going to have to wash them twice!"

"I'd like to try and mend them, so I'm very glad you didn't. But thank you for washing them for me."

"No problem! How did you get them so bloody- Wait! Husk said I shouldn't ask that, forget I said anything!" Niffty stopped her quick-paced circling around Clover suddenly, and took up Clover's skirt in one tiny hand as she scampered back towards the stove. "Oh! Dinner is almost ready- Here! You can help set the table-"

"Niffty, darling, I think that's quite enough," Alastor's microphone stand wedged its way between the two women, nudging Niffty away from Clover with surprising gentleness. "There's plenty of time for that later, let's not get ahead of ourselves!"

Clover was slowly growing used to the visual differences of demons, the sharp teeth of Alastor's smile seeming almost inviting as he looked her over before stepping aside as Charlie rushed to take her arm.

"You don't have to eat with us, I understand if you want to have some time to yourself, but you're more than welcome."

"I'll just probably take a little back to my room if that's alright-" Clover replied, feeling the tension in her shoulders slip away as Charlie nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course! Hold on, let me help you- Oh wait! Alastor, do we still have that tray-?"

Clover was given more than her share of food, thanking everyone for the hospitality and quickly disappearing back up the stairs to the solitude of her bedroom. The click of the door was calming, as was the feeling of clean pajamas sliding against her skin after she'd washed the day down the drain for the second time. She picked at what she could of the food, her nervous stomach having trouble handling more than a few bites despite its pleasant flavor. It didn't take long after she discarded her dishes on top of her dresser and curled up under clean sheets for her to fall asleep, the clock at her bedside clicking away the early hours of the evening as she found her first moment of rest in the eternal.