Once again, Elida woke to the sound of screams. 6:06 am and the agonized wails of the Radio Demon's enemies pulled the gentle angel from her dreams. Growing more accustomed to it by the day, she stretched and yawned, allowing the sound to play for a few moments before changing the channel to Alastor's morning chatter.

"Salutations creeps and cretins, it's a pleasure to be on the air this horrific morning! The weather today will include a rancid fog, followed by the endless burning and pain we all deserve. Well, most of us, that is. This evening, tune on in for a special segment from Heaven's own visitor in a first-time interview with the icy angel herself, Ambassador Elida McCarthy!

"That's right, folks; her sugar-sweet voice will be heard exclusively on this station, so don't you change that channel. Today we will be discussing the secrets behind the Pearly Gates and what lies in store for those who join us here at Charlie Morningstar's Hazbin Hotel. Is Heaven really all it's cracked up to be? What do all those goody-two-shoes angels get up to when no is looking? Find out at 7pm tonight.

"The next three hours of uninterrupted music is brought to you by the following sponsor:" An upbeat jingle advertising a company called the Immediate Murder Professionals replaced Alastor's transatlantic voice. Elida thought it was a horrifying service they were offering, but at least the jingle was catchy. She almost found herself singing along. It was going to be stuck in her head all day.

The pale blue doe polished her hooves and got cleaned up for the day. Marcel would be showing up anytime, hopefully laden with letters from the hotel patrons' loved ones. Contact between the two realms was limited for regular citizens, so having that extra encouragement could really make a difference in the hotel's guests' motivation to earn redemption.

You'd never know it hearing his cheerful salesman's voice, but Alastor was more anxious than he had been in decades. He was nervous that he'd never receive a reply. Or worse: That he'd get one and someone of consequence would find out about it. He paced in his radio tower, plotting how he would prevent anyone from seeing anything addressed to him. He'd need to be the first one to go through every envelope, which would require him to offer to disperse the letters to each of the guests. He'd have to insist.

He wondered if his mother would be upset with him for ending up so far away from her for their eternities. Alastor didn't feel remorse for his actions; Every pedophile, rapist, and domestic abuser he'd killed had deserved the pain and death they got. But his mother was far better than he had ever been. It was part of why he loved her so much; she was the finest soul ever to grace Heaven's halls. Until the day she died, he'd taken great pains to ensure she never knew about his dark deeds. It had given him excellent practice keeping evidence away from the cops.

As the I.M.P. jingle concluded, an ad space some owl prince had paid through the nose for, Alastor began the morning playlist. Music always helped set his mind at ease. Something about it just encapsulated the human experience in a way that other mediums simply couldn't replicate.

Elida's lovesick angel boy arrived far earlier than he had the previous week. He seemed just as nervous as the last time, a weakness Alastor had far too much fun exploiting. The poor kid was just so jumpy, and it did wonders to help him feel better.

"Marc! Good morning," Elida chirped, wielding her soft grace like an expert to make her friend feel more at ease. It was practically a competition between the angel witch and the Radio Demon; He'd freak the postman out, and she would counteract it.

Trying his best to ignore the horrifying creature grinning at him, Marcel pulled several bundles of letters out of his bag, "There were a lot of responses from last week."

He didn't even have enough time to place them on the table before Alastor took them. Marc really didn't like that guy. They disappeared as if they'd never been there.

"I'll ensure these are dispersed properly," Alastor declared, allowing no room for argument.

"Uh… Okay?" He stared at his now empty hands quizzically.

"Oh, hi there!" Charlie bounced up to greet the courier, "I'm so glad you're here. We have SO many new letters to send up with you!" She pulled her own chaotic stack of singed papers and crayon drawings. She started going through them all one by one, which wasn't even remotely necessary, but Marc could tell she was excited, so he listened politely as the Princess of Hell handed him envelope after envelope, adding a long backstory for each and every one of them.

He didn't want to know any of these demons' stories, but she was just so overwhelmingly positive that he didn't have the heart to stop her. Both Sir Pentious and Anthony had had nothing but praise for her when he'd talked with them.

Elida was listening politely as well, smiling fondly at the enthusiastic princess. She was so beautiful when she smiled.

After Charlie was finally done, Elida handed Marc a few packages, "You were right," She stated, "There were some special commissions in there. Careful with these, they might explode if they break," She joked.

Marcel took them and set them gently into his magic bag, "You'll be relieved to hear that there are only a few bouquets from your admirers this time. And I brought you some fresh herbs that I thought you'd enjoy." He handed her a bundle of elecampane and hibiscus, tied with red ribbon, and decorated with rose quartz beads. These were commonly used in love magic, something he'd learned from a book he'd recently read. He had no intention of trying to actually cast something on her, but he knew she'd notice the meaning.

She did. It annoyed her, and it showed on her face, "Who told you to put these together?"

"I was reading that book you told me about and thought you might like a little break from the roses and tulips."

Elida grit her teeth. Why did he have to be so darn thoughtful? "You are wasted on me. Don't you think your true love would actually want you back? I love you, but not romantically, and the sooner you accept that the sooner you can sweep someone ELSE off their feet."

Marc let it drop for now. She'd come around eventually, he just needed to be patient. But every rejection twisted in his heart like a knife. He changed the subject so that she wouldn't walk off. They sat on a couch and chatted for a while, updating one another on the week they'd each had. Elida's was more interesting, but Marc's was significantly more pleasant. She adored spending time with him when he was simply being himself and not trying in vain to woo her.

Alastor faded into shadow to his room and locked the door, spreading the letters out onto the dining table he'd placed in the middle of a magically manufactured swamp. If he was going to read something from his mother, it would be in an environment as close to home as he could get, and that's exactly how he'd decorated his suite.

Sifting through dozens of envelopes of varying shapes and sizes, Alastor sorted them by recipient. He'd slip them all under everyone's doors later. It would be quicker than trying to hunt everyone down individually. But that wasn't important right then. For now, his focus had narrowed on a plain white envelope with a single name written in delicate green calligraphy:

"Alastor Hartfelt"

It was his mother's careful handwriting, using a surname he hadn't spoken since before he'd died. Darkness gathered around him like a blanket, keeping him calm as he ran a sharp finger over the seal, tearing the envelope open in one clean cut.

"My Sweet Little Alligator,

"I miss you dearly. It took you long enough to send word, but I never doubted for a second that you'd find a way. I expect you to come see me in person someday. You're a clever boy, I know you can do it.

"As for ending up in Hell, you have nothing to apologize for. The day your father disappeared, I noticed the drops of blood on your sleeves. I chose not to say anything because you were trying so hard to hide it from me. I always knew it was you who set us free of him. I'm sorry you had to endure seeing him hurting me so often. I should have sent him away from the first punch. You never should have had to take things into your own hands, and for that I beg your forgiveness. It's partially my fault you ended up so far away from me in the end, even if you did get a bit carried away with the other lives you took. I watched over you every moment until the day you died. You always kept your promise to keep smiling.

"I am happy. Heaven is beautiful, and I have all the ingredients I could ever want to experiment with cooking. I've made a whole new recipe book. When you find your way to me, I'll give you a copy so that you can try all my new flavors. Some of them are so spicy they would send a living human into shock, you'd love it.

"I love you so much, and I am incredibly proud of you, no matter what you've done. I don't know how you managed to get a postal service going between the two realms, but whatever you did, keep it up. I'll write every week, and I expect you to do the same. I'm rooting for you.

"Keep Smiling!

"With Eternal Adoration,

"Mama"

A huge weight that Alastor hadn't even realized was there lifted from his shoulders. She knew what he was. She didn't hate him. He breathed deeply, holding the precious letter in his hands. He'd need to reply, and he'd need to do it before the courier left. Snapping his fingers, he summoned several voodoo dolls to deliver the other letters for him while he wrote.

He started from the beginning, telling her everything about his life in Hell. She'd glow with pride knowing how powerful he'd become. He wanted to tell her about his deal with Lilith, but he couldn't risk the letter being intercepted. Someday, if he could find a way to see her in person, he'd ask for her advice. If anyone could help him find a loophole, it was his mom. She was meticulous, intelligent, and the only person he'd trust to read the fine print. Husk might know that Alastor had some kind of deal, but he didn't know the details. He didn't need to know.

A few edits, one or two rewrites, and Alastor had a fresh red envelope sealed and addressed to Ms. Hartfelt. Slipping it into Marcel's bag from the shadows, Alastor reappeared silently behind the courier. Elida had been watching Marc's bag carefully. She saw her new friend slip the letter in, even through the dark. She chose not to say anything.

"Well, it has been a lovely visit," Alastor stated, making Marcel jump out of his skin, "But I'm afraid I have to cut in and take my Elida back from you. I'm taking her to breakfast." Alastor batted his eyes in amusement as Marc's face turned red with anger.

"YOUR Elida? What makes you think she'd go out to eat with you? Did you even ask her?" He folded his arms like a petulant child.

Alastor hadn't asked her, but he did know that she'd missed the breakfast their chef had provided that morning. He'd seen her through the radio in her room; she'd lost track of time dancing to the morning music.

Elida responded, "I'd love some breakfast! Where are we going this time?"

Marc stared at her, mouth agape, "What do you mean 'this time'?"

Alastor placed his sharp fingers on Elida's shoulder, brushing her hair back and running a finger along her dainty neck. It had the desired effect, as Marc looked ready to fight him. "Oh, Elida and I go out all the time. She is such delightful company." That was true. They'd gone out almost every day for dinner. She wanted to explore, he wanted to be seen in public with her, and he knew all the best restaurants.

Elida knew Alastor was egging Marc on, but she didn't bother stopping him. If Alastor hadn't been so respectful of her space and autonomy the entire time she'd been in Hell so far, she might have been more uncomfortable with his overfamiliar touch. But he was always very polite, and partner dancing was a contact sport. They'd been up in each other's space enough times by now that she didn't mind him touching her, even if he was just trying to irritate her friend.

"Marcel, you have no right to be upset here," She stated, "I'm free to spend time with whoever I want."

"Do you like him?"

"First off, that's not a question you ask in front of the person you're talking about, no matter what the answer would be. Second, respectfully, I don't owe you an explanation for anything I do. And third, I don't need your permission to have other friends, no matter what dynamic I have with them. Stay in your lane." Alastor's smug grin widened with every word she spoke. It was an intentionally vague non-answer that could mean anything Marc wanted to think it meant. She was good with her words.

"He's a demon!"

"Is he? I hadn't noticed."

"Why will you let him take you to breakfast, but you won't let me?"

"He's not trying to get in my pants."

"I'm not-"

"You want to marry me. What do you think married couples do?"

"It's not like that."

"It's a relevant factor."

Marcel scowled. His desire for her was so much cleaner than she made it sound, and he hated that that was how she'd read his advances. "Look, let's not argue. Can we just drop it?"

"You started this issue. But yes, we can drop it. I'm still going to breakfast with Allie, though."

"Oh, good!" Alastor snapped his fingers, summoning the same demon he'd sent out to set a reservation at the Rose Quartz, "Have a table ready for us at that lovely little café by the park, will you? Ensure we have seats by the window."

"For fuck's sake, how many times are you and this stupid bitch going to pull me out of nowhere for this shit?" The shadow creature's top hat was missing this time, his hair messed up. He was still in pajamas. He must have slept in.

Alastor's eyes and teeth began to glow, his pupils changing to the shape of radio dials, "Call her that again and you will no longer have the ability to speak," The static interference in his voice increased to a violent growl, odd symbols swirling around him, "But I assure you, you will still be able to scream," The air itself seemed to glitch and twist.

Marcel took a step back, anger replaced with fear. Alastor's fingers still lingered on Elida's shoulder. But the mail man's terror was nothing compared to the creature that the Radio Demon's threat was aimed at. They shrank back, stammered a desperate apology, and left in a hurry to do what they'd been asked.

And just like that, Alastor's smile was back to normal. The air cleared, symbols gone, and a jovial tune played in the background around him like it often did. He was fascinating to watch. Elida didn't notice her glow getting a bit brighter. The powerful witch didn't need a protector from something as inconsequential as insults, but she found she enjoyed having one anyway.

"Well, if you will excuse us, Marker, we'll be off," he spoke cheerfully, intentionally getting Marc's name wrong.

Marcel was too scared to correct him. He just picked up his bag and backed away, retreating to Heaven with the mail he'd come to collect. He worried for Elida. If this demon decided she belonged to him, he might hurt her when he found out how very non-submissive she was. She liked to be in charge, and that demon seemed to prefer the same thing. If they ever disagreed, she wouldn't be safe. He resolved to ask Pentious and Anthony more about him next time he saw them.

Despite the horrible smell from the fog, Alastor and Elida had a rather pleasant day. A cozy breakfast, a walk in the park, followed by several hours of hotel chaos, and a dance lesson that resulted in a breakthrough with Elida's ability to remember the steps, made for a productive day. They were having so much fun dancing that they hadn't noticed they'd taken an extra hour until it was nearly time for the radio interview.

Luckily, nothing could distract the Radio Demon from his broadcast, and they were ready in the nick of time. They spoke for hours, going in depth on the nuance between right and wrong, the concept of consequences, and the differences and similarities between both of their realms. To their surprise, they found they had similar philosophies as each other. The difference was in how they chose to show it.

Alastor wished he could keep the podcast going, but he knew how short people's attention spans could be, so he had to stop the interview earlier than either of them wanted. They could have gone on and on for days.

"Well, that's all the time we have for today, folks! Perhaps if we're lucky, Ambassador McCarthy will be back for another interview soon. What a dizzying intellect she has! In the meantime, listeners, enjoy an evening of this year's top hits. Stay tuned to keep up to date on Hell's juiciest news. We had so much fun, so thank you, and good night!"