p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;"span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space-collapse: preserve;"It wasn't nearly as hard to find a grocery store in Hell as Clover had anticipated, but upon her first few moments stepping inside, she quickly found out why; The overhead lights were far worse than those of the super stores that had the living world in a chokehold, glaring down at her as she weaved her way through cramped shelves overstocked with options that upon closer investigation were all stamped with the same label. She gathered the things she needed to make a familiar favorite and stocked up on snacks to munch on while she entertained herself before heading back towards the hotel, her pocket ever so slightly emptier and the strap of her bag pressing heavily into her shoulder. The meandering path she took home passed her by flickering pawn shop signs and lingerie stores, Clover slowing to a shuffle as a particularly dusty thrift shop display caught her attention. Remnants of the decades past sat empty of life on shelves; Old rotary telephones of varying vintage, dresses passed down through generations now tossed aside for the curse of fast fashion, Walkman's and their CDs left behind after the newest iPod made its way onto the Christmas list- Being dead made her even more pretentious and pensive, it seemed. She'd been just about to walk away from the coffin of memories when a familiar shape caught her eye- A camera, a one-step polaroid, sat almost obscured by a portable radio in the bottom corner of the window. Something about it drew her in, a nagging pit in her stomach that reeled her into the shop with the ring of a buzzer; She walked straight towards the counter and addressed the slumping shape of a woman sitting behind it from over the feet she'd propped on the counter. "Excuse me- How much is the camera in the window?" The woman dropped the phone she'd been scrolling through, peering at her accusingly through green bottle glasses framed by frizzy red hair before she jerked her head towards the display. "How much do you want it for?" She asked, her voice clipped and accented in a euro-centrically ambiguous fashion. "Can I see it first? I'm not gonna just throw out a number for a camera that may as well be busted." "You could have started with that- Now move." Clover had to swing out of the way as the woman vaulted over the counter, her wrists rolling backward on themselves and her bare feet clunking against the floor as she moved jerkily towards the front window. The camera was carelessly picked up and placed into Clover's hands, its thick layer of dust coating her fingers; It was heavier than expected, off-white with the classic rainbow up the front, and its lens tinted an untraditional red that she shrugged off as aging. Otherwise, the camera seemed to be in good condition, and a quick snapshot proved that it functioned as it should. The photo printed into her palm, and Clover turned back to the shopkeep. "Do you have more film, too?" "Only if you buy it." The photo was already starting to develop, the image of her bloodied sneakers standing Pidgeon-toed amongst the books and boxes faded but well-taken, so Clover threw out the first reasonable number she thought of. "Okay, how about $50?" "You're cheap." "You didn't give me an asking price." The woman stared at her for a long moment before she turned on her heel and returned to her place behind the counter, her movements jerky as she kicked aside a box and ducked down. A package of film appeared from beneath alongside a large notebook and a dusty lockbox. "Cash or check?" Clover was soon on her way again, her burden heavier than before but her heart lighter. The hotel was quiet when she stepped inside, the soft snoring of Husk and radio chatter that radiated off of Alastor gone from the late-morning air; Instead she was greeted with the blaring smile and chipper attitude of Charlie beaming from behind the concierge desk. "Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" "Charlie, it's just me." "I know, I just-" Charlie sighed as she leaned against the counter, her rosy cheek smushing against her palm. "Never get to say it." Unsure of how to exit this situation without hurting the princess's feelings, Clover shuffled awkwardly in the entryway and as she shoved her hands into her pockets she felt the slightly lighter paycheck between her fingers; Now seemed like a better time than any to begin settling her debt. Clover stepped up to the counter with a brittle sort of confidence, and Charlie perked up a little as she came closer, the Hellborn princess watching Clover fumble to pull the envelope from her pocket with a curious raising of her brow. "Hey, I know that you said I don't owe you anything for staying here but-" Clover stumbled, stopping short when she caught Charlie's eye and rushing to get the rest out before she lost the nerve. "It just doesn't feel right to use your hotel like an apartment but not do anything to earn it." "We just want to help you out! Plus, I think some of the others really like having someone new to talk to." "I appreciate that, I really do, but- Here." The stack of bills was shoved unceremoniously in Charlie's direction, and Clover's fingers twitched when they were not immediately accepted; Charlie blinked at it with wide eyes, looking back and forth between the money and Clover's downturned gaze before gently pushing it away from her. "Clover, I don't need your money. That's not what this place is about." "Will you please just accept it so I can stop feeling guilty for giving nothing in return?" "You don't owe us anything! All we want is for you to grow! If you want to be redeemed- Which I think you really have a good shot at by the way!- Then you're welcome to try, and if you want to just stay until you've got your feet under you then that's fine too! Honestly, I think your being here is good for everyone else, including Angel Dust, who is actually trying to be redeemed. You are doing something!" "That's not what I mean…" Clover mumbled, crumbling the bills in her palm as she shoved them carelessly into her pocket. "Look, if it would make you feel better I'm sure there's some way you can help out! What are you good at? Niffty and Husk were both brought on by Alastor, but they both do things they kind of like- At least, Niffty does, I think. What do you like to do?" Clover thought for a long moment, staring down at her feet before her newest purchase caught her eye; She pulled the camera from her bag, slipping the strap around her neck before offering it as an example. "I like to take pictures I guess." She said with an awkward shrug, the plastic cold against her palms as she feigned clicking the shutter to prove her point. "Went to school for it and everything." Charlie instantly lit up with a bright smile and a wave as Clover raised the camera, and she indulged the princess with a photo. The picture had barely even been printed before Charlie was rushing around the countertop, her hands waving excitedly as she bounced on her toes. "You can take pictures for the Sinstagram account! Vaggie and I run it right now, well, mostly Vaggie but you're more- Friendly, with everyone and could maybe get some decent photos since you have experience! And maybe when you're up to it you can help with other things like- Oh! Maybe you could ask Alastor to collaborate on a commercial or-" "Let's not get ahead of ourselves! I haven't exactly had time to get a phone yet..." "That's okay! You can just use your camera for now and we can use those! Give it that 'artsy' kind of vibe! And then once you get a phone, we can give you the login!" Clover knew that she'd be unable to talk her way out of this now, Charlie was as stubborn as Alastor was, and at least she had experience with tackling his horns. The thought of him returned her to something that Charlie had said, and Clover blurted out a question before she could stop her stupid mouth. "What do you mean me being here is good for everyone else?" Charlie didn't seem stunned at the sudden reversal in conversation, her bright smile growing wider as she hopped from foot to foot. "I just mean that sometimes, just being there is all that you need to do to make an impact. Angel told me that you've been talking, and I heard him telling Niffty to be more careful with leaving his room open because you found his pet for him. He needs a friend like you, someone calmer- A good influence. I think Niffty likes having another girl around, and Husk seems to like having someone to talk to that isn't Angel or Al." Charlie paused, her lips pursing as she thought over what she might say next. "As for Alastor, he doesn't really talk about anything outside of work, but he's mentioned you once or twice!" "He talks about me?" Clover could have kicked herself for sounding so obvious about her interest in the Radio Demon, already feeling the burn of self-consciousness make its way across her chest to claw at her throat. Charlie tilted her head, her face twisting in an odd expression of interest before she continued. "He said that you seemed to be settling in and that you've had some 'very pleasant conversations'- But, you know, in a much more Alastor way of saying it." As her heart began to hammer in her chest, Clover quickly placed the photograph on the counter with a rushed apology and acceptance of Charlie's offer before rerouting herself to the kitchen. The groceries were unloaded in record time, haphazardly shoved into empty corners of the pantry and refrigerator, and Clover returned to her room with a few select snacks and a bottle of soda. The rest of her day was spent cleaning her new camera, dusting each part carefully, and making sure the lens was free of smudging while watching an old favorite on full blast from her new laptop.
Around dinner time there was a soft knock on her bedroom door, and Angel Dust poked his head into her room with an uncharacteristic hesitance. "Hey, uh- Do ya' wanna come down for dinner? We have pizza." Clover glanced up from where she'd been cleaning the camera's shutter with a small cloth, giving the opened box of crackers and wax wrappers of cheese wheels that had collected in a pile on the bed a sheepish look. "I've kind of been snacking all day, so I'm not super hungry, but thank you." "Doesn't botha' me- I'm not really in the mood for a "family' dinner either, it's just the gal's in the kitchen right now. Al's been sitting at the bar for the last three hours bein' creepy and not sayin' anythin', so I doubt he's up to it either." The comment pulled Clover from her bed a while later, her nerves screaming out for a change of pace before she found herself falling into the spiral of rotting in bed for days on end. She stood and stretched, smoothing down her rumbled shirt and shoving bare feet into sneakers after gathering up the mess her munching had made. The abrupt stop of the old film she'd been watching left the room in a silence that she quickly fled from, her laptop tucked safely against her hip. She could smell the aromatics of yeast and tomato sauce as soon as she stepped onto the landing, and she followed it toward the kitchen to throw away her day's collection of empty containers before returning to the lobby. Angel Dust had been right, the air hummed with Alastor's soft static, drawing her towards where he sat at the bar, his legs crossed casually at the knee as he flicked through a paper and sipped at a small glass of dark liquor. Without Husk to mediate, her first option of opening conversation became useless, but offered another option; Clover clutched her laptop to her chest and strode towards the bar with as much confidence as she could muster, feigning a confused look around the room before she turned to Alastor and posed a question. "So, I'm taking it's self-serve tonight?" The flick of an ear told her that he was listening, the soft rustling of pages pausing as his radio station changed from static to stations. "I suppose it is, but let me, my friend," Alastor said as he set down his paper and turned to her with a wide smile. "What would you fancy tonight?" "Would it be rude to take a glass of red wine to the library, if I promise to be careful?" "Not at all, that sounds like quite a pleasant evening!" The space behind the bar seemed so much smaller when it was filled by Husk's winged form, but Alastor seemed comfortable in the space as he considered the row of bottles on the back wall. He hummed softly along to the music that had begun to broadcast, tilting his head to read a label or two before he twisted his head at an odd angle to look back at her. "Red, you said? Any preference otherwise?" "You pick, I'm sure you have good taste." The lingering glance he gave over his shoulder sent a chill down her spine, one brow quirked as those crimson eyes looked her over for far longer than what would be appropriate. The station flickered again, changing back from its soft melody to a ripple of static as he adjusted his monocle- Then Alastor jumped into animation, leaning forward for a bottle and twisting the cork off with a flick of his wrist. "Well, my dear! I hope this is to your liking, do not be afraid to tell me otherwise. It would be a shame to retire with something you find unpleasant." The emphasis he placed on the word "afraid" did not go unnoticed, Clover's ears twitching forward at the drop of the radio echo in his voice and the clink of a glass being taken from the rack. He poured slowly, tilting the glass between his fingers and glancing up for her approval as it filled. There was something so casual yet so oddly tense about the entire situation; It was profoundly romantic, in much of the same way old French films often were, and Clover's odd comparison rang true as Alastor made his next move- Instead of safely placing the glass on the counter, he held it towards her by the stem with an uncanny stillness, and waited for her to take it. Clover hesitated, unsure of how to approach the dare as he watched her with intrigue, his eyes shifting slowly from between the glass and her wavering form as his grin grew wider. The tension became unbearable as she hesitated, so before her nerve truly folded underneath the weight of it Clover reached for the glass and tried her best to avoid laying her hand over his; She failed, but only slightly, her fingers grazing against the fabric of his gloves as claws caught the back of her hand. The wine sloshed as she pulled back, Clover mumbling an apology into the glass as she brought it close enough to breathe in the wine's aroma before taking a small sip; She'd prepared herself to be given a more full bodied, bitter red, but was pleasantly surprised to find that he'd chosen something a bit sweeter. "It's perfect, thank you. I promise I'll bring the glass back when I'm done." "Be careful who you promise here, dear, you never know what might happen if you break them!" Alastor's sharp smile turned teasing as he replaced the bottle, his voice losing the rough radio quality it had taken on as he continued at a more carefree cadence. "But! You are very welcome! And don't fret about the dishware. Things here have their way of returning to their rightful place when they are needed." Clover hid her staring in another sip as he returned to the patron side of the bar, Alastor settling back in with a flick of his paper; As he crossed one knee over the other, a flash of red where she didn't expect it caught her eye, and Clover glanced to the bottom of his shoe to find it's sole engraved with an incredibly familiar red hoof. Wheels began to turn as things she'd already begun to expect moved closer to the truth, and Clover found herself hesitating to leave, pausing halfway up the stairs before that damned curiosity of hers had her turning on her heels. "You're welcome to come join me if you'd like," She called back to him, watching her wine as she swirled her glass. "Just bring the bottle if you do." Alastor laughed, glancing up from his paper with an honest smile. "I was under the impression that you wanted solitude." "Mostly, but I wouldn't mind company- As long as it was just you." She didn't dare give him a chance to answer, Clover quickly darting up the stairs and disappearing around the hallway corner before he had time to think of a witty flirt- But all that came in response was a rise of radio static, the rustle of a paper and the smile of shadows that she ran too quickly to see. /span/span/p
Around dinner time there was a soft knock on her bedroom door, and Angel Dust poked his head into her room with an uncharacteristic hesitance. "Hey, uh- Do ya' wanna come down for dinner? We have pizza." Clover glanced up from where she'd been cleaning the camera's shutter with a small cloth, giving the opened box of crackers and wax wrappers of cheese wheels that had collected in a pile on the bed a sheepish look. "I've kind of been snacking all day, so I'm not super hungry, but thank you." "Doesn't botha' me- I'm not really in the mood for a "family' dinner either, it's just the gal's in the kitchen right now. Al's been sitting at the bar for the last three hours bein' creepy and not sayin' anythin', so I doubt he's up to it either." The comment pulled Clover from her bed a while later, her nerves screaming out for a change of pace before she found herself falling into the spiral of rotting in bed for days on end. She stood and stretched, smoothing down her rumbled shirt and shoving bare feet into sneakers after gathering up the mess her munching had made. The abrupt stop of the old film she'd been watching left the room in a silence that she quickly fled from, her laptop tucked safely against her hip. She could smell the aromatics of yeast and tomato sauce as soon as she stepped onto the landing, and she followed it toward the kitchen to throw away her day's collection of empty containers before returning to the lobby. Angel Dust had been right, the air hummed with Alastor's soft static, drawing her towards where he sat at the bar, his legs crossed casually at the knee as he flicked through a paper and sipped at a small glass of dark liquor. Without Husk to mediate, her first option of opening conversation became useless, but offered another option; Clover clutched her laptop to her chest and strode towards the bar with as much confidence as she could muster, feigning a confused look around the room before she turned to Alastor and posed a question. "So, I'm taking it's self-serve tonight?" The flick of an ear told her that he was listening, the soft rustling of pages pausing as his radio station changed from static to stations. "I suppose it is, but let me, my friend," Alastor said as he set down his paper and turned to her with a wide smile. "What would you fancy tonight?" "Would it be rude to take a glass of red wine to the library, if I promise to be careful?" "Not at all, that sounds like quite a pleasant evening!" The space behind the bar seemed so much smaller when it was filled by Husk's winged form, but Alastor seemed comfortable in the space as he considered the row of bottles on the back wall. He hummed softly along to the music that had begun to broadcast, tilting his head to read a label or two before he twisted his head at an odd angle to look back at her. "Red, you said? Any preference otherwise?" "You pick, I'm sure you have good taste." The lingering glance he gave over his shoulder sent a chill down her spine, one brow quirked as those crimson eyes looked her over for far longer than what would be appropriate. The station flickered again, changing back from its soft melody to a ripple of static as he adjusted his monocle- Then Alastor jumped into animation, leaning forward for a bottle and twisting the cork off with a flick of his wrist. "Well, my dear! I hope this is to your liking, do not be afraid to tell me otherwise. It would be a shame to retire with something you find unpleasant." The emphasis he placed on the word "afraid" did not go unnoticed, Clover's ears twitching forward at the drop of the radio echo in his voice and the clink of a glass being taken from the rack. He poured slowly, tilting the glass between his fingers and glancing up for her approval as it filled. There was something so casual yet so oddly tense about the entire situation; It was profoundly romantic, in much of the same way old French films often were, and Clover's odd comparison rang true as Alastor made his next move- Instead of safely placing the glass on the counter, he held it towards her by the stem with an uncanny stillness, and waited for her to take it. Clover hesitated, unsure of how to approach the dare as he watched her with intrigue, his eyes shifting slowly from between the glass and her wavering form as his grin grew wider. The tension became unbearable as she hesitated, so before her nerve truly folded underneath the weight of it Clover reached for the glass and tried her best to avoid laying her hand over his; She failed, but only slightly, her fingers grazing against the fabric of his gloves as claws caught the back of her hand. The wine sloshed as she pulled back, Clover mumbling an apology into the glass as she brought it close enough to breathe in the wine's aroma before taking a small sip; She'd prepared herself to be given a more full bodied, bitter red, but was pleasantly surprised to find that he'd chosen something a bit sweeter. "It's perfect, thank you. I promise I'll bring the glass back when I'm done." "Be careful who you promise here, dear, you never know what might happen if you break them!" Alastor's sharp smile turned teasing as he replaced the bottle, his voice losing the rough radio quality it had taken on as he continued at a more carefree cadence. "But! You are very welcome! And don't fret about the dishware. Things here have their way of returning to their rightful place when they are needed." Clover hid her staring in another sip as he returned to the patron side of the bar, Alastor settling back in with a flick of his paper; As he crossed one knee over the other, a flash of red where she didn't expect it caught her eye, and Clover glanced to the bottom of his shoe to find it's sole engraved with an incredibly familiar red hoof. Wheels began to turn as things she'd already begun to expect moved closer to the truth, and Clover found herself hesitating to leave, pausing halfway up the stairs before that damned curiosity of hers had her turning on her heels. "You're welcome to come join me if you'd like," She called back to him, watching her wine as she swirled her glass. "Just bring the bottle if you do." Alastor laughed, glancing up from his paper with an honest smile. "I was under the impression that you wanted solitude." "Mostly, but I wouldn't mind company- As long as it was just you." She didn't dare give him a chance to answer, Clover quickly darting up the stairs and disappearing around the hallway corner before he had time to think of a witty flirt- But all that came in response was a rise of radio static, the rustle of a paper and the smile of shadows that she ran too quickly to see. /span/span/p