Clover awoke to the sound of purring and the weight of something curled atop her chest. She sat up quickly, fumbling for the light beside her bed and turning towards the small bundle of fur that tumbled into her lap as she flicked the switch.

"...Sorry."

The cat blinked at her with its one wide eye from where it had fallen belly-up between her knees, white paws half-extended between them. Now that it was closer, Clover was able to really look at the creature that had remained elusive until now. It was nearly a tuxedo, her personal favorite coloring for cats, but lacking the back white shoes and chest patch that completed the pattern's namesake. Instead, its fur only lacked pigment on its front paws, its face, and in the sweet, heart-shaped pattern that appeared between its ears as they perked upward at her voice.

"What's your name?" Clover asked, making sure to keep her voice quiet as she offered it the back of her hand to investigate.

It immediately bumped its head against her skin, a soft rumbling filling room as Clover stroked beneath its chin. She experientially ran her fingers across its stomach, and the cat stretched its paws to offer more of the soft fur for her enjoyment, its back paws kicking into her stomach as it fell limp beneath her gentle petting. The gold shimmer of its collar was caught between her free fingers, Clover squinting at it in the dim light to read the engraving.

"KeeKee? That's cute."

The tiny mew that comes in response draws a giggle out of her, the familiar healing power of animal affection knocking aside the tenseness in her chest. Moving to push her glasses up her face and startling when her knuckles make sudden contact with her eye, Clover blinked through their watering as she turned to seek out her now solely aesthetic frames. She finds them on her bedside table, neatly set atop the stack of books that had come to find a home there during her soft boycott of technology. Unsure of when exactly she'd taken them off the night before, Clover shrugs aside their odd placement in favor of scratching the impatient creature who had begun butting her head against her palm behind the ears.

Even though she now did not need her glasses, Clover found that they provided an extra sense of clarity to many situations such as this. As she relaxes back into her pillows with a newfound feline friend purring against her chest, a dark shadow shifts at the corner of her eye alongside the soft sliding of wood, and Clover's attention turns to the slightly open drawer of her bedside table. It would have been easy to ignore if not for how purposeful the gap in between seemed, just open enough for her to see the corner of one of the photographs inside but still discreet enough that it wasn't immediately obvious to anyone passing by. That combined with the fact that she'd not remembered opening the drawer since her last bout of midnight melancholy, after which she distinctly remembered securely closing it, and her overall protective feelings about the contents of said drawer, made her think that there were darker forces afoot. She sighs, turning to press her nose against KeeKee's as she asks them a quiet question.

"I wonder who let you in here?" She only gets a soft mew as an answer, so she presses her luck. "Well, you are the cutest thing I've seen so far, without a shadow of a doubt."

An echoed chuckle answers from the dark corners of her room, sending a shiver down her spine as fresh memories of the being she knew lurked beyond the limits of her vision appeared from the fog that accompanied her awakening. The sound rises KeeKee's hackles, the cat skittering across the floor towards her door with a hiss.

"Look what you did."

Clover's scolding goes unanswered as she slides herself out from beneath blankets that she had not put herself under the night before, stopping the upward stretch of her spine when the cool breeze that passes her thighs reminds her that she hadn't bothered to fully dress before screaming herself to sleep. Quickly crouching down to save herself from further revealing missteps, Clover fetches one of her more comfortable pairs of sweatpants from her dresser and quickly tugs them on.

She turns on the top light before opening the door, just to prove her point.

KeeKee's annoyed meowing at the door turns into a happy chitter as it darts out the door, Clover deciding to follow after her when the cat expectantly stops halfway down the hallway just to make sure she wasn't too far behind. They parted ways as Clover turned towards the kitchen, KeeKee winding around her ankles before disappearing down the corridor towards Charlie's office. The kitchen is occupied when she enters it, and her soft greeting lifts the head of the demon seated at the kitchen table.

"Hi, Angel."

"Hey toots, you not workin' today?" Angel asks through a mouthful of cereal, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as he swallows. Clover hums her answer, shaking her head as she stands on tiptoes to pull her supplies from the cabinet, and he continues. "Are you, uh, you okay?"

"I'm fine Angie, just- Tired. You want some coffee?"

"Sure, sugar. I'll have whatever you're havin'."

Clover sighs at the late hour that stares back at her from the kitchen clock as she waits for her kettle to boil, measuring out her coffee beans into the grinder and pulsing the mild amount of annoyance out of her system until she'd gotten the correct grind. By the time she'd started pouring Angel's cup of coffee, he'd finished his cereal and was putting his bowl in the sink beside her.

"So,'' Angel began, drawing out his vowels in a way that she knew spelled trouble. "I noticed you n' Smiles were gettin' awfully close yesterday."

"Wha-? Oh, that."

Melting an overt amount of sugar into her own cup and sliding his towards him, Clover decides that maybe if she gave Angel a few answers now, he wouldn't ask too many questions later.

"It was- I don't really know what that was. Thanks for being discreet, by the way."

"Don't mention it!" Angel grinned, either blissfully unaware of or blatantly ignoring her sarcasm. "You two really make a cute couple, ya' know."

For some reason, that hurts more than anything Alastor had said to her the day before, and she wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps because she knew it was the truth, that they could be so good together if he would just let them. She drowns those feelings with a long sip of coffee, letting its warmth spread across the ache in her chest and the acidity sting the soreness in her throat. Her nose wrinkles at its strength, and she shuffles past him to fetch her creamer from the fridge.

"Angel- I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Why not? He do something stupid?"

"We're just having a- A disagreement, right now. We're okay, we both just need to think about it for a while." Her coffee turns a familiar shade of brown as she stirs in her cream, and she tries her best to ignore it. "Did you ever get anything out of Husker about the whole Vox thing? He just keeps telling me to talk to Alastor about it."

"Nope, cat's got his tongue. Can't get a word outta' him."

"Shit."

Unable to remember that last time she ate, Clover grabs the first bit of food she sees in the fridge as she returns her creamer to its place in the door, tucking the half-sub into the front pocket of her hoodie and grabbing her cup before heading back up to her room with Angel on her heels.

"I mean, what's there to know? Alastor kicked the shit out of Vox, blew his servers harder than a slut on Sunday, and shot down Voxtech doin' it. Seems like a cut n' dry Overlord shoot out if you ask me, aside from it being like, over ya' honor or whatever."

They both collapse onto her bed once they're in the safety of her bedroom, Clover nudging her bedside table drawer closed with her hip as she drops her lunch beside her books. The warmth of the bottom of her coffee cup burns through her sweatpants, stinging the skin beneath as she rests it against her knee. Now that they're alone, the odd agitation that scratches at the back of her skull dulls to the tiniest tickle of her tendons, and the last of it releases with a heavy sigh as she turns to Angel lounging beside her.

"I think Vox said something to Alastor, something that got under his skin. He's- I don't know, rattled? Not thinking clearly? Something's…not right."

"What he say?"

"That Vox isn't going to give up so easily," Clover groans, running a hand through her bangs in an attempt to get them to lay flat. She was beginning to severely regret allowing herself to fall asleep with wet hair. "I'm sorry, Angel, I know you've probably got work tonight. I shouldn't shove all this onto you."

Angel's coffee splashes dangerously close to the rim of his mug as he abruptly sits up, nearly spilling onto her bedspread as he scrambles into her line of sight.

"Aye'! What's with the apologies? I asked first, ya' ain't botherin' me, besides-"

A sudden squeal sends Clover's coffee spilling over her fingers, bouncing Angel on the mattress beside her as she jumps at the sound. She scrambles out of bed before it becomes Niffty's problem, wiping her mug with the sleeve of her hoodie and licking the overflow from her fingers. A door opens down the hall, followed by the rapid sound of feet sliding against the floor alongside a desperate call of Angel's name as another opens, to which he immediately responds in normal Angel Dust fashion.

"We're in here babe!"

A cotton-candy colored flash slides past Clover's doorway, Lollie running into her room faster than she'd ever expect of the woman with a wide smile and nearly tossing herself over the foot of the bed. She screeches to a halt in front of them, her phone waving triumphantly in front of her as she bounces on socked feet, one striped knee-high sliding down her calf as they tap against the floor. Clover stares wide-eyed at the sudden energetic intrusion, but before she can ask what could have possibly caused such an outburst from the usually properly primped demoness, Lollie is shoving her phone into Angel's chest with another giggling squeal.

"Verosika fucking Mayday shared my dance!"

"Who?"

Clover's question turns both of their heads towards her, Angel snorting a laugh into his coffee. Her ears flop into her face as he pats her head, succeeding in fondly ruffling her hair before she has the chance to bat him away so she can finish cleaning her mess. His taunting is muffled as she moves into the bathroom, washing the stickiness from her hands and taking the time to run her damp fingers through her bangs in an attempt to coax them back into place.

"No wonder you n' Al get along."

The seconds of silence it takes Clover to do her minor readjustments and return is all Lollie needs to start up again, hands fluttering excitedly in front of her as she explains.

"She's only the most famous succubus to come out of Lust in the last century! I did a dance to one of her songs last night, had 'Vette film it to post to my page, promote the club n' all that jazz, and when I went to look at my socials this morning she'd shared it on her story!"

"Is that what all the screaming was about?" Clover's sarcasm is thin as she smiles, choosing to stand at Angel's side in case of other coffee-related incidents.

"Not even close! So, I went back to my original video to see how many people had seen it, check the engagement, ya know? And, look-!"

Squinting down at the overtly bright screen that had been unceremoniously pushed into her hands, Clover has to push down the flash of hot embarrassment that bleeds into the amused but confused approach she'd taken to the conversation up until now. The video that plays in its tiny inset is not what she was expecting to see this close to waking, but when Lollie and Angel were involved, things were bound to get a little risque. Pushing past that, the performance she'd been presented with is impressive, and Clover begins to wonder how far Lollie's dancing background went as she watches her twist to the rhythm of a song Clover tries her best to ignore the lyrics of. Besides that, what catches her attention is the way she moves, not the movements themselves but instead the way it impacts the light around her, Lollie's body leaving behind an almost double-exposure of herself as she twirls, her hands a blur of motion that slide across her skin.

She'd dare to call it hypnotic if the hypersexuality of it all didn't scratch against the inside of her skull like a microfiber towel on dry skin, but she could appreciate the aesthetics.

Pink-painted fingernails reach around to tap on the small bubbled icons below the video before it has the chance to loop, bringing up the long list of profiles that had liked her post. Clover scans them quickly, noticing a few familiar names that churn sickness in the pit of her stomach among them, but she doesn't get to dwell on them long before Lollie is snatching her phone from Clover's hands and excitedly pointing to two in particular.

"Fizzarolli and Ozzie liked it!"

"You keep saying these words like I'm supposed to know what they mean."

Lollie's eyes roll so hard at Clover's monotone answer she fears they'd get stuck backward inside their sockets, softly sloping shoulders collapsing in frustration before bouncing back again with more energy than before.

"Oy vey, keep up! Asmodeus? You know, the demon of Lust? He's Hell royalty honey, even you should know his name. And Fizzarolli-" The annoyed scowl that had downturned her normally sweet smile disappeared at the mention of the name, Lollie hiding her face behind her phone as she fell into bed beside Angel with a dreamy sigh. When the dazed demoness fails to clarify any further, Angel steps in with an almost-annoyed shake of his head

"He's this clown she's crazy for, a big hot shot in the Hellborn side of the entertainment business down here."

Angel explains before downing the rest of his coffee, leaning around the demoness who was now kicking her feet off the side of Clover's bed to set his empty mug on her bedside table. He falls back onto one set of elbows beside Lollie, turning his head to peer at her screen and ask a question that causes Clover to twitch in embarrassment.

"Doesn't he have like, a whole line of sex toys? If ya' like 'em so much why not just get some."

"That's too far, even by my standards. He's a person just like the rest of us, it would be like watching porn with you in it." Dropping her cell phone to her chest, Lollie turns to Angel with a wiggle and a wink that pushes dimples into her cheeks. "Besides, why would I waste a penny when I could have the real thing."

"Hah! Good luck with that one, suga' tits, Lust doesn't give a shit about us sinners." Angel's laugh shakes the room, one of the spider demon's many hands tugging at the t-shirt that pools around Lollie's thighs. "How'd you even get one'a those shirts anyway? Thought they only sold those in Greed."

"I bought it on vBay."

Now that Angel had drawn attention to the neon pattern of the t-shirt that she assumed served as Lollie's sleepwear, Clover took the time to examine it. The majority of the shirt is taken up by the grinning face of a jester reminiscent of the one that decorates the currency of hell, but slightly less foreboding with its heart-shaped forehead motif and frilly clown collar. It leans against a bubbled font sign that reads, "Fizzarolli 'n Friends" and stares out from the fabric with a neon green, pupil-less stare. Truthfully, Clover didn't see the appeal, but judging him solely based on the mass-produced, wash-worn image on a novelty shirt wasn't exactly fair, and it certainly wasn't the way Clover preferred to do things. A second empty mug came to rest on her bedside table as she sat on the bed beside them, prompting Lollie to look up from her scrolling.

"Can I see?"

Bright eyes seemed to sparkle as Lollie kicked herself upright, leaning into Clover's shoulder to hold out her phone where they both could view the passing images of the account labeled "fizzarolli_the_clown". Clover wants to comment on how much lighter Lollie seems, but holds back in favor of indulging her not-so-innocent obsession in the hope that it would incite more girlish-glee. The first picture Lollie scrolls past is a backlit photo of the demon, or whatever he was, draped across the top of a piano, one long arm stretched out in front of him and a devious smile spread across a painted face. The next one, a captured candid of what looked like a comedy act, allowed for much more detail; The demon's impish smile seeming more genuine when set below the narrowed pupils of pink irises, brilliant against the pale white of his makeup as they look just beyond the camera's lens. Glancing between the scrolling social media screen and the girl whose chin was currently digging into the bonier bit of her shoulder, Clover could see why he'd caught the eye of someone like Lollie.

"Isn't he cute?" Lollie squeaks, beginning to scroll too fast for Clover to keep up with.

Luckily she'd seen enough to form a solid opinion; Lollie seemed happy, honestly happy, and that was all that really mattered. Her school-girl crush on the clown revealed a raw, vulnerable part of her that Clover had the feeling she wasn't willing to show to just any sinner, let alone a near stranger like herself, and she wasn't about to take it for granted. As out of her element as she felt in this conversation, and as much as it made her long for the easy banter of Husker or Alastor, she intimately understood the feeling of holding hopeless affection for someone just out of reach.

"You think you'll ever meet him?"

Angel's soft snort as he stands turns their attention away from the other performers profile, leaving Clover's question unanswered as spindly fingers pinch at the flushed skin of Lollie's cheeks. Her tongue peeks out between tiny fangs as he squishes, the spider sticking his out right back.

"I gotta go get ready, Val has me goin' on first tonight," Angel sighs, ceasing his teasing to stretch one set of arms high above his head. "What time you on?"

Rolling into the warm spot on the bed he left behind, Lollie waves limp fingers above her in a lazy punctuation to her answer.

"Half past Monday. I'm skippin' out on tonight, I don't want to see any more of Val than I have to after that shit he pulled yesterday. I already talked to him about it, so he shouldn't be that big of a dick tonight but, ya' know, be careful."

"I'll let ya' know if he starts chokin' on it."

With that, Angel departs, catching Clover's outstretched hand and smiling softly at her gentle squeeze goodbye before waving over his shoulder as he disappears down the hall. Now that they're alone, Clover turns to the giggling girl that had returned to scrolling through her phone on the bed beside her and decides to take her up on an offer given not-so-long ago.

"Lollie, I have a question."

"Thought you would."

Quicker than she can blink, Lollie's back to that uncanny professionalism, the blow softened by the amused quirk of her brow. Her phone is placed face down on the bed beside her, and she shifts until she's completely facing Clover, leaning her back against the far poster of the bed and tucking her feet beneath her. She gives a rolling gesture for her to continue once she's settled, and Clover cuts right to the chase.

"You're not in a contract with Valentino, right?"

"Nope. I'm a free woman, 'cept when I'm being paid not to be."

"But you seem so-" Clover pauses, trying to find a word to describe what she assumed Lollie's relationship with Valentino entailed that didn't make her sick to say. "Close."

"It's all business, honey. Well- It's mostly business, with a little pleasure on the side. Mutually beneficial."

Clover ignores the urge to gag in favor of not offending her friend; A harder feat than she cares to admit.

"How does that work? He just- Lets you work whenever you feel like it? That doesn't seem beneficial for him."

"Val and I have…" Lollie's head thunks against the dark wood of the bed frame behind her, her lips rolling together as she thinks through her explanation. "A complicated working relationship. We used to be real close before he started throwin' around other dancers in front of me and trying to sweet talk his way into getting me to sign. He's too stupid to notice it's nothin' but show business nowadays."

"Why do you still work for him? I mean- You hate him, don't you?"

Lollie nods, but then shrugs, a confusing combination of expressions.

"Sometimes we gotta do someone we don't like to get where we wanna be."

"You mean, something?"

"What did I say?"

She can't help but roll her eyes at the knowing smile that lifts Lollie's lips. As her nose wrinkles in that arguably adorable way again, Clover notices the freckles that dot bare skin. It's almost distracting, looking at this woman who had suddenly re-inserted herself into her life without the aid of cosmetics and couture altering her appearance. She seemed so much younger this way, and Clover can't help but wonder what she might have been like in life before. More personal questions would have to wait until later, this conversation seemed too complicated for such casual commentary. Lollie seemed to take Clover's staring as confusion, leaning forward on pastel palms as she shifts herself closer and drops her voice low enough to not carry out the open door.

As if that provided any sort of secrecy in a place like this.

"Look- Me n' Val, we want something from each other. Val's tryin' to pull some big strings within' the Seven Rings, and I want in on it. Which works out, 'cause he's been tryin' to get me into a contract, and now he thinks that he can use this to sweeten the deal."

"You said something about not having enough money for a new place."

"Yeah, the bastard's doubled my cover charge to make up for the main club being shut down for the time being. Kinda hard to dance around rubble, ya know?"

"But- It sounds like this happens a lot, the moving I mean."

"It does." She sighs, tilting her head at Clover as her mouth twists in thought. "Do you wanna' know the truth?"

"As opposed to…?"

"Me glossin' over the bit you wouldn't wanna hear on the radio."

"It's better than me jumping to conclusions."

"...I don't like bringing my work home with me, and Valentino doesn't like that. It didn't used to be this bad, Hell, I brought him home a few times when we first had our fling, but once shit started going south, that stopped. I moved, didn't give him a forwardin' address, and that was that. For a while, at least, until I went home after a gig and he was waitin' for me. He'd paid my neighbor to buzz him in, the sellout."

"What did you do?"

"I let 'im in. What else was I gonna do? He stayed the night, we fooled around, and the next day I was payin' the deposit on a new place across town. Six months later; Rinse, and repeat."

"...I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, if I really wanted to get out of it, I'd find a way. It's just temporary."

Clover hums in a way she hopes signals understanding, staring off into the space between them as she thinks of her next question. It made sense, she guessed, to put up with a bad situation with the hopes of reaching a greater outcome. The more she thought about it, the more regrettably relatable it became. The situation may not have been entirely the same; The end goal of Clover's mortal mistakes has been far more domestic than Lollie's lust for a lavish life, but the emotional investment was just the same. She only hoped Lollie got out of her situation before its risks caught up with her, and that she'd find happiness as honest as the one Clover had glimpsed moments before.

That train of thought derails, colliding with their topic of conversation in a mess of emotion that Clover doesn't have the energy to fully deconstruct at the moment. Once the smoke clears, she's left with one thing lingering on her mind, and after a thorough chewing of her lip in contemplation, Clover decides that Lollie might be just the person to ask about it.

"I have another question."

"Lemme guess, it's got something to do with your pal Al." Lollie smiles through her teasing, quirking one thin brow at Clover expectantly.

"How'd you know?"

"Part'a the job description."

The bed creaks as Clover slides off of it, crossing the room to close the door before this conversation goes any further. Cool wood presses against her forehead as she leans into it, the quiet click of tumblers sliding into place as she releases the door knob echoing across its surface. Her heart twists in her chest as she begins to debate going through with this, but she wasn't sure who else to turn to at a time like this. As much as she adored Angel, she doubted he'd be discreet, and Husker was sure to raise Hell in response, possibly riling up Alastor in the process. Vaggie and Charlie were much the same, and Cyrus- Well, knowing what she did about him now, she wasn't willing to risk refueling his distaste for the Overlord. Anyone else was far enough out of reach that they became non-issues, and every party she could involve would provide an opinion as biased as her own. This recent development in the growing number of hotel guests provided her with an opportunity, and despite the puzzling nature of Lollie's place in the greater scheme of things, she felt that it would be foolish not to take advantage of it.

There was no reason for her to distrust Lollie, quite the opposite, in fact.

Clover startles when she turns and finds Lollie watching her, wondering how long she'd spent contemplating. She'd not even heard her move over the anxious rushing of blood that filled her ears, Lollie's legs dangling over the shallow lip of the bed's baseboard, her arms balanced against her knees as her hands clasp patiently in front of her.

With a heavy breath that barely lifts the burden bearing down on her, Clover continues.

"He asked me to sign a contract. He says it's just to protect me but-"

"But what? There's no 'but' when it comes to signin' something, especially when your soul is involved."

Lollie's interruption is loud, too loud, Clover's ears straining away from her even as she swiftly crosses the room in the hope that proximity would promote prudence.

"He won't talk to me about something that happened, something that changes our relationship."

"Listen sugar" Lollie's voice is stern as she hops down off the bed with a quiet thump. "You sign nothing until he gets his shit straight and you talk, I don't know him the way you do but I've seen more contracts than I could ever count, and the first rule of any kinda' business is that you don't sign anything until you know exactly what you're getting into. You said no, right?"

"I did, but…I don't think he's trying to trick me, this isn't like that."

The hard-line that had taken over the place Lollie's lips usually sat softened with a sigh, Lollie reaching out to pry apart Clover's defensive posture, slipping her fingers between crossed arms and grasping the pale hands that hid within them. She shakes their linked fingers between them as she speaks, her voice slipping back into that earnest, soft sweetness that demands the attention of its audience.

"I'm not saying he is, but that man had been tearing this city apart after bein' quiet' for over a decade because of you. He busted into Val's club like a knight in crimson armor lookin' for ya', and word on the street is that if that cat of his hadn't been there, is that Valentino would be movin' into Vox's office before they even finished sweeping him up off the floor." Lollie sighs when Clover's eyes drop to their feet, reaching out to brush her fingers through Clover's still damp bangs in a gesture that felt far more motherly than she assumed Lollie intended it to be. "You fight him for it, okay? Don't let him push ya' around! You're a stubborn piece of work, just like him, I know you can do it."

Something shifts, a line of doubt scratched out from the scribbled transcript of her inner monologue, and the uncomfortable emptiness that had existed somewhere between her heart and her stomach begins to fill with something more solid. The mild regret she'd begun to feel for revealing this private detail of her relations with Alastor melts away with her doubts under the warmth of reassurance, and Clover finds herself squeezing back against the slim fingers that still remained cupped against her palm.