Author's Note: Hello one and all to another, and very special, installment of Drifters! And by special installment I mean one you will either love or hate… because the short length of this chapter is very much a byproduct of a certain element it features.
But spoilers aside, onto the review section… the place I most often hint at spoilers XD
Gamer of Action44D: With this fic, I did want to kind of stress how mind boggling the reveal that an Angel died is. And how Heaven's arrogance to their own weapons is the reason why even Hell's smartest minds (aka Alastor's) haven't even pieced together that the Angels weapons are what Carmilla used to kill one.
With the main reason Alastor hasn't made the connection yet being the fact he couldn't conceive why any immortal being, let alone the ones in Heaven, would be stupid enough to attack a group of people… with the sole weapon that can be used to slay the wielder themselves.
But little does he know, Adam and Lute are that stupid! And despite how much resources they are using to look into who killed the Exorcist, Adam and Lute really should be thankful the Carmines are the only people who know the truth about the Angelic weapons.
Because, you're right! And not even just because you'd think somebody would try to use an Angelic weapon on an Angel. You'd think with Heaven just leaving their weapons behind, demons would be scavenging for them in a heartbeat over the fact they can be used to kill other demons! (Although I don't fault the show for not coming up with a reason why that is. If only because it could be covered in future seasons, and there is simply only so much you can show the audience in eight episodes.)
Which is why in this fic I made Carmilla's involvement in hiding away the steel so it couldn't be savaged, and not even utilizing its demon slaying properties herself to keep the secret safe, a core concept of the story.
Regarding how Carmilla went about ensuring nobody knew about the resource, how she collected it after each Extermination, and what she does with it… is unfortunately spoiler territory (Other wise known as Alastor's turf at this point XD)
JCINNABAR: Oh man, sorry to hear about the broken screen dude. Definitely seems like there's a story there with the bird though. For now, thank you for the review and tea advice as always!
Now without further adieu, besides my traditional apology revolving around any grammatical mistakes that may pop up along the way, I welcome you back too….
Drifters
A Hazbin Hotel Fanfic
Chapter 19:
The Pen that Writes your Story
"So for this evening, we're going to discuss the things that make life worth living!" Charlie exclaimed to the group. Her arms spread out alongside her smile.
Today's lesson revolved around a topic that would prove to be upbeat, and offer a much needed break from the more… emotionally taxing issues they've brought up recently.
"Statistically speaking, the activities that made a Sinner's life worth living, most likely involves the Sin that got them sentenced to Hell."
Or not.
As Charlie arms slowly lowered when Odette robotically stated her hypothesis.
"Well, maybe that's true, but we're gonna try to focus on healthy hobbies."
"Do you have a definition on what qualifies as a 'healthy hobby', or will this view be based on your own personal subjectivity?" The weapon's heiress continued to pry with her monotone fueled curiosity.
Charlie blinked twice, as she processed all the large words together. When they did finally manage to form an orderly line in her mind, all she could do was stare blankly ahead.
Unsure which was worse for her program. The Vee's deliberately destructive curiosity when she first got here, or her fellow blonde's professional one being offered right now.
"Oh my God." Velvette's vexed moan made the answer easier at least, "Were you born without common sense, or have you just deemed it too inefficient to use?"
"I am inquisitive by nature." The lab coated Sinner narrowed her gaze onto the Vee.
"Then be inquisitive about your failing business, not every goddamn word we say."
"I think what Velvette's trying to get at," Charlie intervened, "is that all this overthinking may lead to unnecessary stress."
The owner's fellow blonde silently turned her head away from her solution. The closest action to a huff the engineer was probably capable of.
"And what if deconstructing conversations to their basic components is one of the joys of my life?" Odette questioned.
"I'd say that's a sad fucking life-" Angel's dry remark was washed away by the cold water of Vaggie's fist.
"It's an effective one…" the pony-tailed blonde responded. Her voice trailed her eyes to the floor, "At least for me."
"Oh yeah, because taking three minutes to admit you're socially inept is super streamlined." Husk's low groan came into the picture.
"… why do you enjoy doing it?" Charlie offered, deciding to put the peanut gallery's advice on hold.
"I have the feeling…" Odette slowly lifted her head towards the heiress' smile. Unfortunately having to pass everyone's uninterested, or in Angel and Vaggie's case, preoccupied, faces, "It would take too much of everyone's valuable time to explain."
"We've got all night." the owner beamed.
Odette looked up, and perhaps true to herself, Charlie felt the Overlord's daughter analyze her offer.
"… when conversing with people, it is hard for me to keep track of what they truly mean. And in the past I used to grow frustrated with my inability to do so." The pale blonde looked around, almost as if she expected somebody to interrupt.
Thanks to Vaggie, none did. And Charlie let that be known when she nodded for the Carmine to continue.
"I have no such problem deciphering people's intention when it was written down. Because in reports, blueprints, and novels every aspect of what's being communicated is laid bare as facts." Odette took in a quick breath through her nose, "And so, to make sense of verbal conversations, I have a preference to reconstruct them to a written format in my mind. To ensure I am…"
She trailed off, and Charlie noticed her eyes began to ping around the room rapidly. No doubt overloaded by all the faces that went from uniformed displays of indifference to mixed signals of curiosity.
"On the same page with people?" Charlie calmly answered for Odette.
"… yes."
Her fellow blonde quickly docked her gaze back onto Charlie's to remain afloat.
"I know that must sound peculiar."
"Not at all!" the owner stated. Her eyes closed but her smile widened, "If you like to read, why wouldn't you process life through text?"
"Because if I could converse normally like my sister or all of you, it would be more practical." Odette looked, if not nervously, then questionably around the wordless room.
Charlie's soft grin began to warm the silence.
"You may be the newbie here," Husk's sneer broke it before she could, "But don't act like any of us could handle a conversation better. For fuck's sake, you've probably talked to the snake enough times before you got here to know that."
"What'sss wrong with my ssspeech?" Sir Pentious slurred, before it seemed to echo back into his own ear. His eyes going wide, he all but rammed his hands into his hip, "I have a flair for presentation, and I'll have you know my lisp only addsss to my grandiousss!"
"Does it?" Husk raised an eyebrow.
"Yesss it doessss!" Sir Pentious emphasized the point, before shooting a hand out towards Angel, "If anybody talksss ssstrangely, it'sss him!"
"What?! There's no problem with the way I talk!" Angel looked to Husk. Then realized the inherent bias with that source, and turned towards Nester instead, "Is there?"
"N-no…" the bird stuttered, before his finger vibrated the lie onto his quill, "Well, it's not strange, but your dialect's kind of… dated. Which is totally fine and cool, but also sort of…"
The avian's explanation trailed off, but the spider's eight eyes dragged the rest of his statement out.
"Funny."
Angel deadpanned at the answer he had demanded.
"Well I like my accent!" The actor crossed three sets of arms to make the declaration, "So I've made a point to keep it! Unlike some sellouts down here!"
"T-that's awesome!" Nester brought up two shaky thumbs, "And you all talk way better than me. S-since I'm more of a listener anyway."
Husk seemed to scoff a mumble under his breath, but Charlie couldn't hear it past the nods she was sending around the room.
"Not what I originally planned, but I've got to say you've nailed the activity Odette!"
"I have?" she questioned.
"Absolutely! I didn't even realize it myself, but even how we do something as basic as talk can be a representation of what makes us happy." she motioned over to Sir Pentious and Angel, "Whether that's because we use how we naturally talk to make us happy."
She then motioned to Nester and Odette.
"Or we take what makes us happy, and use it to learn how to talk best!"
A brief interlude of silence followed her remarks. And for a moment Charlie sucked in her cheeks. Wondering if she had overstretched her reach in connecting Odette's tangent back to the lesson.
"I suppose… that makes some scientific decree of sense."
Luckily, her fellow blonde solved the very problem she had produced.
"I'm glad you think so!" Charlie breathed out. "And you know, you're not the only one to switch up the median of a conversation."
"What do you mean?" Odette asked cautiously.
The heiress' grin grew, and could already feel her mother's magic wrap around her. A warm aura that blanketed all of Hell, and one she was always eager to tap into.
"Well I don't know about you, but I always find it's way easier to converse with people through songs." Charlie's smile washed over the crowd, and the wave caused Vaggie's to drop.
Charlie peripheral vision saw such a face shared by all those who knew what was coming… except Nester who seemed to shrug. Evidently deeming her habit to be no stranger than her fellow heiress'. Until she rose, and waded her way towards Odette.
When each hoof struck the ground, a string vibrated a tune into the world. And the moans of the crowd were deafened into rests… along with Nester's craned neck.
Which beneath large eyes, turned like an owl trying to find a source of something he didn't know was everywhere.
Charlie began to hum her smile towards Odette. Ignoring Velvette's rolled eyes on the couch, and the Doorman's descent from confusion into panic.
As his widened pupils dislocated from his sockets. When his mouth opened up for an 'um' that vibrated his throat but produced no sound.
"When the chatter outside turns to violence~"
Melody flowed inward into Charlie's soul, amplified itself, then flowed back into the world. Wrapping Odette in the blanket of comfort her melody knitted… and drove the bird behind her further into a self questioned madness she could not see.
"And the world becomes to loud~"
Charlie knelt down and placed her own hand on Odette's.
"Don't become a slave of your own silence~"
She squeezed her digits.
"Don't let it bring you down~"
The heiress raised the junior Overlord up to her feet.
"Your own voice deserves a chance~"
"To be sung and to be heard~"
"The road it takes to dance~"
"Is yours alone to learn~"
Charlie pulled back till both she and Odette balanced on the balls of their feet. And with a twist of rhyme, they spun to a quickened tune.
A beat that captured everybody and everything. From Vaggie and her narrowed glare at where the top connected, to Nester and his panic attack. That now had to contend not only with audio illusions, but the loss of motor control as well.
"Turn the page of this grand story~"
"The next chapter belongs to you~"
"Should it be an ode to glory~"
"Or epic of old with a new twist or two~"
Angel white fur grew green roots as they dragged him a twister through Charlie and Odette.
"The stories I process our not quite so fictitious~"
The Carmine cocked her head, and landed its skepticism within the beat. Bouncing it off the magic fabric around them and transforming the number into a pixelated reality.
"Critics would rate my minds work cold and dull~"
The lobby transitioned to a digital format. Odette's mood manifested around them a black void. Laced with green lines that threaded themselves into a grid. Where Charlie and the pony tailed blonde were taken along the negative vector of the ladder's frown.
The Carmine's quiet voice produced a series of calculations that floated around them.
"If my joy makes me inefficient~"
The first problem popped up and flashed out an eight bit Sir Pentious.
"Then for the sake of profit, my comfort must be culled~"
The next formula spun up had an output of a depthless Husk.
"How I like to read is a solution to my own failure~"
The exponential spiral passed over a flattened Angel.
"An addiction produced by fear and shame~"
Charlie frowned when they surfed past a two dimensional Vaggie in the graph next.
"To grant comfort amongst societies chaotic nature~"
The data divided itself by zero, and produced a paradoxical sight of epileptic madness… otherwise known as the face Nester evidently makes when he's lost all semblance of reality.
"But a vice to be shunned all the same~"
Odette's self doubt materialized in the program. And the landscape began to crack under the virus her sadness provided.
Steeling herself, Charlie placed a hand on the downtrodden patient. And forced the malware away with a smile.
"I hope you forgive my intrusion~"
Charlie grinned, and the trajectory they were on began to rise above itself.
"But I think your math's a little off~"
She brought Odette up to her feet.
"Calculating life equates to a fools illusion~"
"Don't make your path through it so rough~"
Charlie brought her hand around Odette's shoulder. And as they broke through the graph, she motioned her free arm across the high definition lobby they returned too.
"Because when the chatter outside becomes too violent~"
As if on cue, Velvette rained down back into reality on the couch. And before the drum beat could spark Charlie to continue with the chorus, Odette's quiet voice echoed it out first.
"And the world becomes to loud~"
Even as the music slowed, Charlie's heart fluttered to life seeing the small breakthrough it had caused.
"Your own voice deserves a chance~"
At least for most of her guests. As the owner's duet continued to the pitter pat of forced volunteers' heads colliding with the floor.
"To be sung and to be heard~"
And, given the high speed twitch of his nervous system, the snap of Nester's sanity.
"The road it takes to dance~"
But with Charlie setting up the last note of the lesson.
"Is yours alone to learn~" Odette finished. Hesitantly for sure, but perfectly nonetheless.
And just like that, the strings of Hell vibrated themselves into silence. And Charlie found it a comfortable one. As she gave Odette's shoulder one last squeeze as she allowed the magic to disperse. And for everyone to open their eyes-
"WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!" Nester sprang to his feet.
Charlie thought the shout was a bit much, but turned to explain. At least that was her plan.
Until she saw, in loo of flicking his quill like he usually did when he got nervous, the bird's hands contained half the hair on his head.
"… a music number." Angel replied while rubbing his head. More annoyed at the way he landed than having to state the obvious.
"What?!-Why?!-When?!- When did you guys have time to plan that?!" Nester spoke as if the impossible equation he represented was still being processed in his head.
"We didn't. Down here, that bullshit can just pop up unannounced." Husk grumbled, "Although I'm gonna miss the streak we went where it didn't."
"…" Nester insanity now ran itself into a jaw shaped silence. As he looked between the bartender and the two improvised performers, "How?!"
"That's kind of hard to explain. Honestly though, it's shocking you haven't been swept up in one yet given Charlie…" Vaggie wafted her hand through her own recovery, and the space between Charlie and Odette.
"Can spontaneously produce a Broadway performance?!"
The heiress sucked in her lips, and felt the hot air trapped beneath raised the edge of her lips with a smile.
"I don't know if I'm that good-" Charlie lips soured inward once she realized Nester's 'praise' was actually a question produced by an anxiety ridden face, "B-but I try, and the music tends to have a great effect on people."
Charlie laughed nervously, motioning to Odette before dragging her pointer finger onto Nester himself.
"I-I mean, just one song and you've become a lot more livelier hehe~"
"Is that what we're calling mental breakdowns?" Velvette crossed her arms, after her hand flattened out the bruise atop her scalp.
"I-I just- Okay, I'm gonna need a second to process everything." Nester heaved in oxygen as if it were a stimulant.
Deep breaths were important but Charlie wouldn't call his gasps of air healthy.
Deciding to let him have his moment, the blonde turned to the client who received this ordeal as a treatment.
"Maybe music's not for everyone. But I hope you got something out of it." the edges of Charlie's lips ticked up upon a cautious chuckle.
"It was… certainly not an unpleasant experience." and through her own hesitation, Odette produced one as well.
XxxxxxX
Alastor tapped his way up the hill towards the hotel, his shadow trailing behind long and thin. The catch of the day hooked and hidden away at the line's end.
The only problem being that he didn't know where to release it yet.
Well, that wasn't true, he knew exactly what reservation he wanted to relocate his trophies too.
What he didn't know was whether the hunter there would be willing to take the shot needed to put the prey down.
'A conundrum to muse over~' Alastor hummed. If not happy, then contempt that he at least had the blueprints to renovate his plan. 'Perhaps I'll even treat myself to a cup of tea if Carmilla and her daughter offer a spoonful of ambient sugar instead of molasses.'
A concoction such as that could finalize his strategy with a single sentence if brewed correctly.
The notion relaxed a smile onto his lips. And as he motioned himself through the front door, he had to push the hopeful thought away as well. Given what happened last night, the last thing he needed to do was outpace the pleasantness of today.
"Fucking, just treat it like cough syrup or some shit."
"B-but cough syrup doesn't have alcohol."
"… you can't be this stupid."
Oh good, Schroeder's cat was currently forcing himself into a conversation he didn't want to be a part of. And to match the feline's dual state, a paradoxical chicken was evidently asking questions in search of answers he didn't want to hear.
All of which took place beneath the flickered lights of a tired bar.
If Alastor needed a spot of depression to soothe out his good mood, then Nester and Husk's presentation in the lobby made his smile that of fate.
Then again, it could very well be one of misfortune as well. For as Alastor strolled through the lobby, neither the avian, nor his chained kitten so much as batted an eye as he walked by.
The pinstriped man would hardly call himself an attention addict like Pentious. But after spending the better part of a month being forced to play his game unable to wink at the audience, he did find himself rather vexed that they were ignoring him now.
Even the ever paranoid Nester was too preoccupied trembling before some other horror to quiver before the wendigo.
Against his better judgment, Alastor paused his merry march mid step. And his raised leg kicked up a question towards Husk.
"Two birds of a feather, no sight of our merry jester, yet flocked together?~" Alastor mused.
And much to his delight, and confusion, the brunette's body finally rattled to his tune.
"I'll tell you why," Husk pinched his eyes, but nothing could trap the sigh that left his mouth. Well, Alastor certainly could, he just very much enjoyed being the source of it at the moment, "if you don't rhyme."
"For the price of a shot," the radio harmonized, and leaned his music over the pub goers, "may I ask why not?"
Alastor closed his eyes. Yet the light of Nester's ghost-like face projected Husk's silent frustration into a divine comedy he could see all too clearly.
"Feather's," the gambler huffed out his acceptance of the power dynamic, "got his first taste of Charlie's Disney crap today."
"Really?" Alastor's eyes shot back and forth between the bird huddled on the bar stool, and the tired cat trying to get him to nest elsewhere, "It's taken this long?"
The look Husk gave the Overlord was that of somebody who wished it had taken forever.
"Out of all the horrors of Hell, is this really one to be shaken up over?" Alastor chuckled, bending over to prod the avian with his cane.
"P-probably not," Nester's trembling lips stuttered out his response, "B-but I can't be the only one who finds it weird that Charlie can just force us all into a musical."
The bird darted his eyes around, trying to find the sight of an obvious agreement. Unfortunately for the avian, Husk didn't care enough to showcase his opinion, and Alastor made sure to hide his behind a smile.
"Oh my young and naive sport, you don't have to worry about Charlie sweeping your free will into the rhythm~"
"I-I don't?" the bird's stutter nearly sounded like a sigh of relief.
"Of course not," Alastor cocked his head, and flashed a set of teeth that devoured the man's false hope, "Because everybody in Hell has the ability to choreograph your involuntary movements into their musical will!"
"… what?" Nester's feathers fell like shriveled autumn leaves beneath a silent winter.
Now that's the type of fear Alastor prided himself on producing.
"Jesus Christ." Husk's forehead followed his dropped tone onto the counter, "Now he's never gonna leave."
"Oh calm down my feline friend," the radio waved the party pooper off, "Unlike the poison you pour, he'll be able to walk away from my words."
Alastor spun his cane, and despite how much he would love to mess with the cat and the coward some more, he did have another station he needed to tune into for the night.
"And you should treat this news as a celebration! For this is a siren's song we all possess! Learn how to sing your own, and you'll soon be able to weave your way out of others~" the wendigo spun around his conclusion when he reached the base of the stairs. And took his first step up it as a punctuation.
"I-I don't think… I… I don't ever want to control people like that." the bird whispered, with all the fear of somebody too afraid to control themselves.
Alastor let that noise fade in the background. And let his ascent upwards be led by his indifferent shrug.
There were followers and there were doers. And honestly, the only reason Alastor ever wasted time reminding people like Nester their role as the former was because he liked beating dead horses.
Not that he had anything against the Doorman. He much enjoyed pawns, even the ones he didn't feel the need to play.
"That's rich coming from you." Husk mumbled towards his sole customer.
"W-what do you mean?"
Alastor nearly left the background noise behind. For while the two chess pieces' interaction was amusing, he regretfully had to go watch a queen talk to a rook. And just like how their interaction existed before he arrived, their pattern through the afterlife would exist after he left.
"Nothing…" Husk grumbled.
Unless one of them tried to break free that was, and Alastor found his curiosity peaked just enough to pause his ears atop the stairs.
"O-okay…"
And the deer's eyes shot open when Nester's voice was drowned beneath its own pity.
But unlike the cat who clenched his mouth shut against what was trying to come out, Alastor's lips creeped upwards.
Understanding that Husk hadn't been a follower caught up in his own nature, but rather a king. Who has briefly forsaken his own sorrow in an attempt to convince the pawn before him not to become a bishop.
'Husker my old friend, the jackpot you provide never ends!' Alastor thought. His smile grew. No longer needing to follow a false trail of hope to a mound of sugar he nearly walked by. 'Even the coins you throw away land in my pocket!'
And unlike Husk, Alastor had maintained his Overlord status because he knew exactly how to cash them in.
'For the pen' the Radio hummed. His eyes glued to the quill Nester flicked, 'Who will write my hunter into a hero.'
He turned and silently chuckled himself upward. How quickly things can change. When he had entered the hotel, he was wondering how to spring his trap. Now he was strolling to his room with the luxury of being able to choose the starting point of his story.
XxxxxxX
… This is the part where I point out I majored in History not Musical Composition XD
But this is a Hazbin fanfic, so it would be weird not to have at least a couple musical numbers. And while I certainly think the song in this chapter is far from good, I hope it wasn't as cringey to read through as I thought it was.
Thank you to all those who have read through the nineteenth chapter of Drifters!
I will try my best to upload a chapter every Friday. But until next week, please feel free to leave a comment! Criticism is always welcomed, so long as there's an attempt for it to be constructive.
As of this moment I am still looking for a beta reader, so to anyone interested please feel free to shoot me a PM.