Rapture - The Slow Fall

by Uros Osium

With the truth of Extermination brought to bear the youngest Seraphim makes a choice; if her sister thinks Sinners and the overpopulation in Hell is a danger, then let's solve it. She concocts a plan in record time through desperation and hope. But said plan is mostly good intentions and a wish. And we all know where good intentions lead...

13. Chapter VIII (I)

Chapter VIII - Part I

Very fucking long chapter. Part I at least was, so I decided to cut this one into 3.

Part I has a long scene between Vaggie and Claudia, plus a few smaller ones with Alastor. Part II has EarlTheEarglove (Uther) and DEEZtructor (Tobias). While Part III has the proper interview section… and a little something, because shit can only roll downhill, depending on how you look at it.

A large scene is needed to get into Vaggie's mind for a bit. Alastor's own has another OC for this version of the Hazbinverse that is needed for later details. EarlTheEarglove's own section will tell everyone the why of his interaction with Vaggie. And DEEZtructor is very important for later developments (Because humans are one thing, but extraplanars, AKA, angels and demons [We don't count 'Outsiders' for this one, are also an equation on Earth. You'll see) and understand WHY he just looks like a human and not a Cambion (human/demon hybrid). As for the Interview and the 'little something'? You'll see on that one.

All of it doing damn fast considering how I thought it would go. And you know what? For some reason next to 40 Cº burning my SOUL, which I motherfuckingly hate, was the reason for my brain going fast, hard, and with a passion for a couple days, getting Part I done in 3 days with no brakes on. Think I did a good job despite suffering a lil bit of delirium with this fucking heatwave. So I suppose I shouldn't complain much (I still will).

Also, a kudos and virtual cookie for Anguirus1955 on Fanfiction . net and his little guess on VI (II). I thought I had made it obvious enough for someone to hint at it right away, but I am still happy someone had a little eureka moment. Mind you that this is only one part of the puzzle. Let's see if people start piecing things together, because this was the only tidbit I had planned to confirm when it came to this particular scenario.

Those on AO3 that want to know? Nope :3 Check Fanfiction instead XD!

With all that said (And kudos sent), let's get Chapter VIII going.

* Hell - Hazbin Hotel - Vagatha *

A smoke break in the middle of the night after a day that had next to zero work done on her part. All she did was being there for a moment, then come back, cry, talk with her girlfriend, revive a dark memory, cry some more and then run for a smoke.

This was pathetic.

Vaggie couldn't help but rub her eyes, well, eye, in frustration as she stood on the balcony. This wasn't an addiction, but every crutch made her feel even worse.

For fuck's sake! Charlie was going to inherit a throne she didn't want, with all the problems that come with it. Lucifer's ass literally saved everyone's life so long as it sat pretty on the Low Throne and he was going to pass that burden onto his daughter in exchange of his own power to keep who knew what under lock and key! There were so many fucking problems in the background, so much stress thanks to this project, and so many stakes piled onto it, that she could make a motherfucking fortress of sorrow with the problems those two had!

And she cried her eyes out the moment she was reminded of who she was and where she ended? Because she didn't even bother to search for her mother and instead decided to throw a seven years long tantrum? Because of how she died!? Her fault, by the fucking by.

Fucking pathetic didn't cover it.

"Fuck."

The stress was getting to her. She knew at some point the truth would come out, but she had always lied to herself. Why would Vaggie worry about Vaggie's past? She was trying to make up for it, right? It would be easy to tell Charlie! Or so Vaggie told herself.

Then she kept telling herself. She kept lying.

And telling.

And lying…

She repeated it day after day. The usual 'Just Do It' kept eating at her. But you know what was even louder? The voice that told her to 'Shut the fuck up and enjoy this break'. It was much like drinking or smoking, as she was doing now; little doses of poison that kept you resilient and, in this case, happy too. Vaggie had grown comfortable after a few months of fear of what could happen. It became so damn nice to just… lie.

But who was she trying to fool here? Vaggie knew that, sooner or later, the truth would come out. Why worry though? Much as she grew to like, then love, Charlie, did she truly believe redemption would come about without ever setting foot in Heaven? Worse. Did she ever think she wouldn't need to tell Charlie the truth? Charlie liked to pour her everything on things with a tunnel vision like focus. She was extremely dedicated and ignored so many details it was painful to watch and take part of. Vaggie knew that, given enough time and interactions with her, many would figure out her secret. For fuck's sake, she was sure almost any Overlord watching her, many older and smarter demons, even some of the most stupid people out there too, would know with just a bit (or a lot) of introspection.

Charlie didn't figure it out because she was Charlie. Again: Laser focused on one thing and only one. Same as her father.

…

Was it wrong to say that angels had been poorly made? Vaggie took another drag of her cigarette as she mulled that thought. It took her a moment to let the smoke through and admit the truth to herself. The answer? No, they weren't poorly made. They were made with intent: Beings incapable of actually living by themselves unless they deviate from the purpose they were made for. And Lucifer was a prime example of what happened when they did exactly that.

Even if Lucifer had been created to ultimately 'betray' his Father in the end. God, if Lucifer had been completely sincere, was a massive piece of shit. Perhaps there was a huge plan, as Lucifer said, to create the PERFECT universe at some point in the future. But so what? That kind of perfect future, one costing innumerable lives and miseries in the interim, was something Vaggie couldn't condone. And while she had made far too many fuckups to actually have a voice worth shit, she was sure her opinion would be far more worthwhile to even those she had harmed and grieved than God's own.

Nonetheless, He was God. Despite how much humans, even angels, tried to understand it, He was a mind too far removed from mortal and immortal alike.

God's plans, right or wrong for those He created, were just undecipherable.

What a fun way to evade guilt, eh? She always did this shit. Focus on other problems, if any. Ignore her own. Ignore the shit she had caused. Always the same bull.

Perhaps at first this did have a reason to exist, for her to be that way. Back when she was still a kid, an older teen, whose life had been uprooted and thrown into a fire, only to get out of the flames, only to get out of it, black like motherfucking charcoal, and land in a different danger, one she *agreed* to partake in that life in exchange for both money and safety. A danger she ended up creating, if only in part, by becoming vitriolic in response to what happened.

Vaggie wasn't fully at fault, but she wasn't stupid or self deluded enough to say she hadn't been there, digging her own grave, from day one. Be it prostitution, the Exorcists, or the lies, all those were her own making.

Every situation you landed had to do with the choices you made. Cruel for some, after all this would sound like victim blaming, but it didn't make this any less true.

It also didn't make it any more palatable.

"Fuck! Shit! ¡No, mierda, no!"

And it certainly didn't make it any better the moment she almost crushed her last smoke, only for her to fumble and for it to go sailing over the railing. She had barely started the fucker.

"Every fucking damn time." She hissed under her breath. Vaggie went to drink when the stress was manageable. She went for a smoke when shit hit the fan, and more often than not she didn't manage to finish those for reasons similar to this one. "Perhaps I should quit when I am ahead?"

"Or space them out and control your temper."

Vaggie turned, surprise in her eye, only to be faced with another cig almost at eye level. Claudia was small, as all Imps are, but everyone here had arms for a reason.

The angel took what was offered with a bit of trepidation.

"How long have you been around?" Vaggie asked, going for her lighter. She wasn't about to waste the gift.

"Enough to see you pace around, take a puff or two, and try to control yourself as you let your self hate eat away at your sanity." Claudia offered a sympathetic, but still sharp, smile as she fished for a cigarette of her own. The Imp had no problem lighting it and fewer doubts than Vaggie when she took a drag. "You should stop, by the way." Letting out smoke as if it didn't affect her, which was likely the case, Claudia eyed Vaggie with analytic eyes. Vaggie had seen it before. She did not like it. "But I suppose you are in no position to do that."

Vaggie tsked as she looked away. "For a coward you have a lot of guts."

She didn't want to sound so snippy, or defensive, but it just came to her.

"I am a coward, true."

Claudia didn't seem offended. In fact it was very hard to offend a demon. More often than not it had to do with the Sin that spawned them, and while Claudia was a Prideling, Imps were there for Wrath. Her pride didn't matter. That she could kill someone? That DID matter.

And she made it clear.

"But do you know that, at the lowest level of training acceptable, all Imps in my position are meant to be able to fight a Goetia?"

That almost made Vaggie cough up a lung.

"Excuse me!?" The latina turned to face a smirking Imp. "You have to be-!"

"Am not." And to demonstrate, Claudia offered a hand. "Support yourself on your end, but only support. I'll do the heavy lifting."

Ignoring the not so hidden insult, Vaggie placed a hand on Claudia's the free one grabbing both the railing on the balcony and her still lit smoke. No way she was going to miss that one.

"WOAH SHIT!"

Though she almost did.

Claudia was lifting her whole weight without trying. Imps were, for their size, very strong. Sure, most Imps were lower than humans in most things; strength, resilience, smarts, etc. The one thing they had going for them? Ingenuity, malice, numbers and a desire to fight. But Imps were demons, and the biological max for most of their attributes was by far and wide above a human's regular limit. Point being? Most Imps never had the resources, time, or lifespan (usually thanks to fighting enough to die relatively young) to reach any of them. In fact you'd be more likely to see a child, human child, able to fight the lower echelon Imps by their lonesome. No need to tell you what most adult humans, even weak ones, could do if they needed to fight Imps for whatever reason.

But that was the lowliest, likely poorest, Imp. Untold millions, billions perhaps, but still the lowest of the low.

Claudia was young, but she was not weak. She grew up in the Morningstar Castle. She had all the care, all the means and all the obligation to be her very best.

"A secretary to the Devil himself must make sure no unwelcome guests remain when the Master commands so." Claudia let Vaggie down, the angel shaken at the revelation. "And yes: We can FIGHT the Goetia, not WIN against them, not alone." She chuckled, the voice far more melodic when she did so. "At least not us Imps, and I sure as all of Damnation wouldn't try unless ordered. I appreciate my own skin far too much. But if we had to fight Exorcists? One on one you may not do well against me. I probably wouldn't win, but you know…" She took another drag of her cigarette, a twinkle in her eye as she looked at Vaggie. "Not like we'd ever have to."

Vaggie didn't gulp, but she looked at Claudia, and probably anyone directly working for Lucifer, in a new light. "Of course not."

There was a terse moment of silence, though it was a more than welcome reprieve. At least until Vaggie spoke up.

"You came for a reason." She ventured. The latina was far from stupid, but she also tended to think the worst of people. In this case? She was sure there were ulterior motives here. "What do you want?"

"Understanding." Claudia let out another plume of smoke as she checked her nearly consumed cigarette. "You know, Sinners get addicted so easily. But are you aware demons can easily get out of any addiction if they REALLY want to? And not like humans, no. We can curb down the need for drugs and vices with a snap. Permanently, unless we DEVELOP the addiction again." With this said, Claudia threw the butt of her smoke away, soon picking up the whole pack, lighting it on fire, and doing the same. "I have no desire for any drug or vice in general. They bring me no pleasure. I may drink from time to time, but only for the flavor. Getting drunk is not smart with my duties."

Vaggie looked at her own cigarette for a second, then back at the Imp. "Then why did you have some on you?"

"To catch a moment with you." Claudia turned to face Vaggie completely. "We needed to talk."

Of course they did. "I guess." Vaggie took in a deep breath as she flicked some of the ash away from her cigarette. Another drag, another exhale. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Charlie being an idiot, like her father."

Silence that could be cut with a knife. That is what happened.

That, and a glare that could easily kill. However, much as Claudia was a coward, she also knew Vaggie wouldn't kill her.

And Vaggie was no idiot. She knew Claudia had said that for a reason.

"Explain yourself."

The Imp nodded. "Many in my line of work consider Lucifer almost a father figure. So do I. not many men work as his Secretary service. They mostly focus on combat duties and other services. If you were impressed with my strength, you'd be scared of the few Imps that are part of Lucifer's Legion."

That alone made Vaggie shudder. No Legion had fought against Heaven in a long, long time. It made sense that they'd be proper professionals, and scary as fuck. But no one wanted another war between Heaven and Hell, so human souls had been the ones Exterminating other humans for a while now.

"We all revere Lucifer, faults and all. I don't call him Master for no reason. Though some of us ARE indoctrinated, that is just a small number. Much like the other Sins, some of us do see them as our own God." Claudia looked away, towards Heaven's Embassy. "Far better than the one we do have."

Vaggie nodded at that, having learned perhaps far more than she ever wanted of God Himself. "But then…" It did beg the question, though. "Why call him names? Why insult Charlie?"

"I insulted no one." Claudia defended with a small frown, as if Vaggie had called her the worst thing imaginable. "Facts are not insults. If someone is fat, call them fat. If someone is stupid, call them stupid. And for my Master? Calling him autistic would be too kind."

Okay, so that tracks. Vaggie found herself saying those words out loud, much to Claudia's clear enjoyment as the Imp chuckled.

"Almost everyone knows one of the 'absolute truths', as Lord Lucifer puts them." Claudia explained further, making sure the point was driven home. "Demons are entities of Chaos. We, born or not, although most of us ARE born nowadays, are no less constructs than angels. However: We change, we adapt, we mold ourselves. Angels can't do that." She shook her head, frowning at the thought. "They are still. They may expand their skillset, become better, learn and all that, that is true. But Lucifer has made sure to stress one very clear point, and that is as simple as every angel having one duty and one alone. Those like the Master? Those like Emily? They are rare, and Lord Lucifer is a clear example as to what happens when angels… diversify their resume."

Well, at least those directly next to Lucifer had more information than Charlie herself did. Fucking terrific. Then again… it is not like the two of them had talked on the regular for hundreds of years.

So many daddy issues. Not like Vaggie was one to talk.

"That still doesn't explain why you-."

"Lucifer may've tried to do more than one thing, but failing brought him back to what he once was." Claudia decided to cut the crap and be direct. "Master is an incredible man in so many ways, but he lacks focus. He lacks focus because his dream was snuffed. It brought him back to being able to just concentrate on one thing, one goal. He is autistically laser focused on a single desire, and Mistress is the same way." At this Claudia frowned. "I will not overstep my boundaries with them, but when I was tasked with this, and knowing her relationship with you, I had hopes."

Vaggie frowned. "Hopes?"

"That you had made her open more. That you pushed her to look in more than one direction." Claudia spoke succinctly on this. She was crisp, perhaps even curt. "All of us in that castle? We know of Seviathan's doings. We'd wish the worst cruelties on that cur. But you? We heard very little down the grapevine, even with the Master keeping an eye on you two. He never involved himself directly of course, he wasn't even sure if you two were dating or WHO you were, otherwise…"

When Claudia mentioned that part it just made Vaggie wilt. "So no need to keep secrets around anyone with me being what I am?"

"If you think I'd have animosity directed at you for being a Winner, then forget it." Claudia shrugged, clearly unbothered. "You are stronger than a Sinner. You came here to hunt your own misbegotten kind. I don't really have a problem with that." Though the air got a bit tense the moment she narrowed her eyes. "But lying to Charlie and hurting her, even if it seems that hurt is quickly going away, has not made you many friends at the state."

"I have no excuses there."

At last Vaggie found herself with old urges and desires. To flee, to cower.

But she didn't.

Instead of lying or covering her ass, she decided to finish her smoke and throw the remains away as she talked, letting not just the smoke pass her lips.

"I became enamored with Charlie when I first laid eyes on her, you know?" Vaggie spoke, hands together in a ball as she squeezed them. For a moment she thought she'd break something, so strong was the force and her nerves. But she didn't, she just used her own hands as a stress ball. "At first it was friendliness and the feelings of a starved puppy. I had little to no contact with the other Exterminators: We sparred and trained together, we shared a goal and a lot of anger towards our fellow men, we sometimes talked, but there were very few friendly faces there. We were all women with one desire: To kill Sin." Vaggie let go of her hands to strike at the railing. "For fuck's sake! I didn't even check to see if my own mother was in Heaven in SEVEN years! That is how bound we were to that bloody business!"

"You became an angel." Claudia nodded, following along and hearing Vaggie, hanging to her very word. "Narrowmindedness is inbuilt. Human you are, true, but not just that, at least when you die. Part of it still remains after you left Heaven."

"Oh yeah, I noticed that." Vaggie chuckled ruefully. Her focus had been trying to protect Charlie. The latina knew just how hypocritical that was. "And Heaven itself seems to help in that regard." But that part of her story wasn't what Claudia had asked, nor something Vagg… Vagatha wanted to revive. Damn, that name still felt wrong, even in her mind. She couldn't use it again, not yet. "But when I fell here? Charlie found me, helped me back to health. She even allowed me to work on my own back, rarely asking questions, allowing vagueness on my end while always answering anything my own curiosity dredged up…" Vaggie sniffled at the thought. "I was afraid I'd lose what little I gained if I told her. Then we began to get involved and…"

"The fear got worse." Claudia hummed, then clicked her tongue. "You let fear guide the two of you, even if you weren't trying to."

"... I am aware. I am a mess. I have been for a long time. Worst part? I could've made myself better. I just… I didn't." Vaggie slumped against the railing, feeling tired, so tired. "Fears, hate, memories, hope for new ones to be better."

Vaggie looked upwards, to Heaven. That place only filled her with hope in the past, for a desire of revenge and to make things right. Now? It felt like a joke, a pustule long festering in a body. Hell was no better, but both could change.

Only problem? Hell, ironically, was a place for chance. Heaven was a place of stagnation. Risk and reward versus being happy where you are.

But Vaggie was no stupid, this had been said before. Neither word meant good or bad, only what you make of it. Charlie WANTED to make change good, while those in charge of Heaven were, whether they wanted it or not, making the stillness turn bad, rotten.

So she'd be part of that change, even if Heaven itself didn't want any part of it. With luck things would indeed change and, if Heaven accepted things, they'd keep what they liked and at least play ball with the rest. Change didn't need to be constant everywhere, but it had to come at some point.

Vagatha had to change at some point.

"But the past is the past. I made mistakes. I intend to not repeat any of them." Though it was hard. Very fucking hard. So much in Vaggie wanted to go back to being a coward. Much as she had fought, as she had killed, as she had endured, Vaggie didn't want more hurt. That, for one, would be changed. "I failed Charlie. So many times. She could win me over with puppy eyes, she could beg me and sugarcoat things to sway everything her way. So many times I could've helped if I just TALKED instead of had an outburst, like when Charlie wanted us to work together and I just went full field sergeant on everyone." Vaggie sighed. "Ser gilipollas tiene sus inconvenientes…"

"Being stupid is not the problem." Vaggie turned to face the Imp who was smirking widely at her. "Remaining one after being told? Now that is a bit more than just a problem. And yes; I know at least seven different languages. And no, I am in the low spectrum there. I don't have the patience for that many."

Vaggie could do little more than smirk, then chuckle. "You are quite the talented little thing, aren't you?"

"There are no less than a thousand souls working at the castle at all times. The crew is much larger than that of course, but no need to divulge that kind of detail here in the open." Claudia spoke with some sort of pride, though she tried to mask it well. "And I am nowhere near the top. But I welcome the compliment."

Well, shit, that was… There were no few Exterminators to fill the ranks, let's be honest. Usually every city, town and even village in Pride gets a good number of them every year, but massed together they'd make a mighty group, a literal army. But if a singular Imp, like Claudia, could take her by surprise with strength alone? Then that spoke poorly of the actual combat effectiveness of every Winner that joined the ranks.

Let's be frank here: It didn't surprise Vaggie.

Everyone thought demons were weaker than human souls, and that was the weakened ones that became Sinners. Winners were much stronger in all meanings of the word. But if Claudia was an example, a poor one in her own words, of what Lucifer had at his beck and call? Of what every Sin likely had, even the Goetia if any of them cared to have proper troops as it was their right per the Standing Army laws of Hell and the requirement of every noble to have a Legion of their own AT LEAST? Then the whole Extermination forces of the Angels of Vengeance would get their teeth kicked in the moment Hell said 'We had enough of your shit'.

But it wouldn't come cheap.

Not if proper angels join in.

Demons were far stronger than most wanted to admit, at least if properly prepared. But their biggest strength, when compared to angels and their own prowess, was their numbers. Angels were few, hyper specialized and deadly, even the Cherubs, or better say, the Cherubim.

Quantity was a quality all on its own though. Bury an angel with demon forces and Hell would still win. Vaggie had deduced that a long time ago, while still in Heaven.

That is what fueled many a Winner's fear of Hell. Even some proper angels were scared.

And they still poked the hornet's nest with a stick every year.

No one said Vaggie wasn't stupid when it came to long term planning. She was smart, sure, but assessing how fucked up she'd be two sundays from now was, as her fuckup with Charlie could attest to, far too much for her.

Claudia, on the other hand, seemed to have her shit together. So…

Why not ask?

"Claudia?"

The Imp had been looking over the city. She had a frown on her face, as if she had been thinking about how much better it could be. Vaggie knew because she had seen Charlie have that look, only far less judgemental, many times.

She did turn to face Vaggie the moment she was called, though. "Yes?"

"You want to help Charlie, don't you?" Stupid question, yes, but Vaggie had a point to make here.

"It would be my honor to do so." Claudia offered without a moment of hesitation. "Within limits."

Vaggie just arched an eyebrow there.

"I'll be honest." The little Imp looked as if she had deflated a bit. "None of us at the castle expect for her to make it."

Vaggie blinked then, frowned, and almost snarled. "What do you mean with that?"

"It is like the Master's attempt way back when." Claudia clarified. "Not that we, or I, expect the Mistress to fall, or suffer in any way, not past mental scarring when this plan fails."

Vaggie almost gasped in shock. Okay, no, this wasn't surprising. But to hear that even Lucifer's own people doubted Charlie so?

"The Master was all but trodden upon, if the old stories hold any truth. Bear in mind this was thousands upon thousands of years ago. We all expect some of the tales to have more myth than truth." Claudia huffed at the thought. The young Imp woman struck Vaggie as a very matter of fact and studious one after all she had seen and heard from her, so having 'myths' instead of 'facts' probably didn't sit well with her. "There is a reason as to why lady Charlotte has been the butt of all jokes in Hell when it comes to Sinners. And now, even with willing participants, with someone trying their best, none of us expects redemption to work…"

"But not because of Charlie." Vaggie ventured, seeing where this is going. "Because of Heaven."

"Lady Emily has a heart of gold. But she is as ignorant as the Mistress, same as the Master." Claudia didn't hold back one bit. "I wish to believe in them, and I do. But I don't trust Heaven. They discarded you when you showed mercy. A virtue, thrown away, because it wasn't used on the 'right' people."

When you put it that way… It sounded even worse.

Fuck.

But that wasn't what Vaggie wanted to talk about.

"Alright, this is a conversation we should probably have with Charlie if you ever want to be open with her." Claudia nodded as Vaggie spoke. It seemed she didn't mind the idea. Loyalty even if it was detrimental, that was good. That was what Charlie needed. More so if the Imp had the balls (literal and figurative here) to put her own foot (or hoof, in this case) down and make Charlie hear her out. "But that isn't what I wanted to talk about."

Claudia seemed confused for a second. "What then?"

This made Vaggie stumble with her words for a second, taking a moment or two to let it out. "We talked." She began, softly, slowly. "I told her why I walked off. I… I just… thought back to the days after my death. Being in Heaven, getting approached by Adam… ignoring the fact that my mother could be up there." She took a deep breath. Vaggie wasn't willing to deviate now, to just sob and ask for a moment, or to talk later perhaps. She was tempted, though, very much so. "We talked, and talked. She made sure I was fine. She was there for me again and… I just-." Vaggie stopped. She was about to ramble. That wouldn't do it. Better do this like a bandaid. "I asked what she wanted out of a relationship."

The Imp nodded, egging Vaggie on and following as best as she could. It wasn't her place to judge on THIS one at least, though Vaggie saw Claudia was straining her patience here. Clearly the young secretary wasn't bothered about the topic, only with Vaggie fumbling her way around it.

It felt as if, while Claudia was younger than Vaggie, the Imp was trying to coax information out of a fearful child that thought she had done something wrong. In a way it wasn't exactly far off.

"I asked her what she had wanted with those that came before me, no matter if they had been flings or people she had truly liked. When she asked me why, I just took this problem to be a nail, with me being the hammer." Vaggie grunted. The analogy wasn't wrong, but she wished she could've been less brutal with Charlie. It was no excuse that Vaggie had been in a bad headspace there, but, clearly, trying to do this the slow, gentle way was not going to work. "So I asked about things we should have talked about a long time ago. Topics like marriage, the idea of having more than one person in our relationship considering we'll 'live' forever (though that wasn't exactly one topic I ever wanted to bring up), what she'd like Hell to be, redemption or not. We even touched the topic of… children."

Claudia made a simple 'ah' sound of understanding, not even a word, as she nodded. "I see. Well, considering what you two know now, I gather that was not the most pleasant of topics."

"It feels as if everyone knows about it but us." Vaggie groaned into her hands.

"Those serving Lucifer must know of this. We care for his health, mental or otherwise. His protection, his nutrition, everything. Our Master is an almighty being, but as I said…" Claudia snickered a bit. The mischievous impiness of her kind was still there, though it barely showed. "Autism. He wouldn't eat or shower if we didn't pry him from his duckies, at least until this all began. He does not REQUIRE such care, but it has been recorded many times that allowing him to go without earthly requirements makes him…" Claudia didn't seem to have the words for it, so she went with the closest thing. "Otherworldly, let's say. He starts to detach a bit, and that can be dangerous."

Vaggie sighed and nodded. It was hard to think of Lucifer as one, but he WAS an Archangel. If he became too engrossed with his own 'duty', then it was possible that he'd revert slightly. That was a worry for later though, now Vaggie returned to their other topic. "If Charlie talked with her father beforehand. If I had been more open… We could've made much better choices." But that was a 'what if' scenario and this was real life. They cared for each other and Charlie swore high and low that she would not discard Vaggie. That made this easier, but also difficult. "Thing is, Charlie DOES want children. I do too. But apparently… all we'd get would be miscarriages, no matter who was the father between the two of us."

Claudia had a grim look on her face. "From myths to facts: There is a long list of pregnancies many of us know about. We have no details; names or dates. But we know of the approximate number of times that Miss Lilith got pregnant." Vaggie saw Claudia's face turning to one of disgust and pain. It didn't last, but it had been there. "To be so cruel to your own children and creations… I feel as if rebellion was more than justified."

"Believe me, that is one opinion I didn't ever think I'd share, even after what happened to me. But after hearing Lucifer's side? I don't think I could feel otherwise." Vaggie couldn't. If all Lucifer said was true, then there wasn't much to love about God, not really. Perhaps, in the future, if Charlie allowed it, Claudia would be shown the book where all the names of Lucifer's unborn were kept. But that was far into the future, after Charlie managed to will herself into reading it first. "But that doesn't change the dilemma we face."

The little Imp shrugged. "It is a problem, yes, but I feel as if you two can work it out. There is no need to rush for a solution, so my recommendation would be-."

"Lucifer is going to step down from the Low Throne." Vaggie cut Claudia off before the Imp could get another word edgewise. This time surprise was clear on Claudia's face. "I gather this was not one of the things he shared."

"N-no." The Imp gulped, clearly discombobulated for a moment. "W-why?"

"Many reasons. The danger and possible fight, if not war, this could bring. The fact that he wants to protect Charlie and all of Hell from something that will sap energy from him. Probably a few reasons he hasn't shared with us." Vaggie shrugged. There were still secrets, Lucifer had confessed that much to his daughter. "Point is: Charlie will inherit Hell, and after one Morningstar leaves the throne, apparently, they can't retake it. I don't know how this shit works, but I doubt Lucifer would pull that out of his ass."

"Hell's throne can be won, or given, but not regained." Claudia spoke slowly now, almost fearful. "It was so before the Master's reign, it will be so afterwards. Chaos begets chaos, and chaos brings change. Change cannot return to what once was. It is unnatural."

"I see. So that is why." Vaggie frowned. That was why God had always remained in power? Heaven was stillness, order. Hell was chaos, change. It would fit the theme. "Now, don't get me wrong. Charlie doesn't want children so she can retire in the future. That would never be her reason for it."

"Of course not." Despite her state and confusion, Claudia snarled at the idea. It clearly sat in the worst possible way for the Imp to ever think Charlie would do that. "Mistress would sooner kill herself than create a pawn like that. More so if it is her own blood."

"True, but in a way it is what will have to happen." Vaggie sighed at the thought, at the danger. "If Lucifer is going to sacrifice his strength to keep us safe, and probably to fight off Heaven if the worst comes to happen, Charlie cannot be the last Morningstar. She wanted children because she wanted to have a full family. A big family in fact. But now she'll need at least an heir to make sure Hell is safe. Apparently, if no Morningstar sits on that throne, things will be…" Vaggie wanted for a word, so she went with what was more direct and sincere. "Gone. All of it."

While clearly Claudia wouldn't know why in particular, it was obvious the Imp knew Vaggie wasn't lying to her, so the hellborn just nodded.

The question came after. "Then what do you wish of me?"

Vaggie looked at Claudia. Was she cute? Sure. Was she pretty? Yeah. Did she also have dick, balls and pussy? True. Was Vaggie disgusted by any of it? Eeeeh… not really. She had seen far too much in Hell. But that was not the whole thing here. Claudia wasn't offering herself. She probably didn't think of doing such a thing. She had either respect or reverence for the Morningstar family. Most likely the former more than the later, unlike some of her colleagues.

Bottomline. Did Vaggie like her? No. Not yet at least. She just met the woman. The extra bits weren't as iffy as she'd thought, but then again, she was a visual person in certain regards. Out of sight out of mind, so she'd need to 'see' to tell what would happen.

As in if she found it sexy or if she'd need to run to the bathroom and puke. Crude, but that was the truth.

However, Claudia was not the topic here. Though this interaction had shown the angel a side of the Imp that Vaggie had thought to be far different than it truly was. She had feared Claudia would be an obsessed, perhaps zealot level devoted, follower of Lucifer. It more sounded like a regular old caretaker with great respect (and a few grievances) for their master than anything else. Also, while crude at times, Claudia seemed to be far removed from the average Imp when it came to her mannerism, but was still clearly dangerous in many ways, probably with just as many barbs on her tongue if she needed to dish some hurtful words.

She was not obsessed, she was respectful with a little asterisk at the end, and she had Charlie (and Lucifer) as her first focus, or perhaps second. Claudia had admitted to wanting to live and being a coward. Vaggie highly doubted the Imp would ever betray Charlie's trust, much less Lucifer, but the angel would not lie here: Trusting was damn fucking hard for someone like her. Still…

Vaggie would admit to this: Claudia, for the time being, had gained a few points in her favor. Also lost a few, but those had been cleared out… mostly.

Look, the idea of ever sharing Charlie with someone else was hard, okay? But she was willing to compromise. That was why she was going to ask this fucking question in the first place.

"The three men that are part of this. It made me think." But she wasn't going to spill her guts to Claudia, not now anyway. "I'd like… to try and see how it works with one of them."

Because this was, mostly, a lie.

Jack, if Vaggie was perfectly honest, was growing close to Emily. She could see it. Probably anyone around them saw it. It had been so damn quick too, if what Charlie told her was any indication. But even with her limited exposure to the young man, and to Emily, Vaggie could see something there. Perhaps it was just a forming friendship, but…

Eh…

Okay, so Vaggie had seen a lot of her old girlfriends (as in girl friends, though she DID want some of them to be her girlfriend at the time) falling for boys back in the day. And she knew the signs. Ironic, considering sometimes neither girl nor boy ever noticed. It was like a gaydar, but for straight people.

Just to say that, unless something very bad happened, Vaggie saw the two connecting. Perhaps they would, perhaps they wouldn't. Though, to be perfectly honest here, and considering her previous envy towards Emily that day they went to Heaven (Not that she had any reason to, not after Lucifer delivered that massive hammer blow when he told Charlie and Vaggie about God fucking things up), Vaggie was very much in support of Emily finding someone. Mostly because, with Heaven being as it was now, poor Emily needed someone that really would be there for her, just in case.

As for Dominic?

No.

Fuck no.

He was tall, muscular and, most likely, a very nice guy. Ironic, but that was a common denominator with the people that bought Vaggie's services way back when she was alive.

Vaggie almost puked when she thought about the possibilities. She had been uncomfortable with the image of Jack, partly because he was still rather fit and not exactly tall, but also not small. Correlation with her old memories made her stomach churn.

But Lucien? He looked feminine, very much so. Hadn't she been told that Lucien was a man, she wouldn't know. Even his voice was almost like that of a woman. It was much like Claudia: Perfectly passing unless you focused on the little imperfections.

So, as cruel as it may sound, Vaggie flagged him down for a trial run.

She didn't want to.

But she also wanted to find out one very particular thing about herself.

If she was okay with Claudia (somewhat), who was not a woman, but looked like one, and had male parts as well as female, then… Was Vaggie really a lesbian? Or was she bisexual and just loved feminine appearances instead of masculine? It had been a long time coming, this discovery. And while it was under pressure, Vaggie now wanted to know. And she did because, if she shared Charlie, if they managed to love each other, perhaps otherS, with upper scale S at that, then there was one thing she wanted to ask of Charlie, even if it perhaps was too much considering Vaggie's own transgressions.

She wanted for both of them to be mothers. One thing Vaggie couldn't fathom was for Charlie to be the father, be it spell, potion or other temporary change, only for Vaggie to remain childless on THAT particular run.

Charlie had agreed to that. Enthusiastically even. That was perhaps the only reason she was considering this.

Claudia's silence made Vaggie worry as her thoughts evaporated, returning to the present. The Imp was pensive, hands crossed under her chest. It seemed Vaggie had missed nothing as she mulled things over.

Finally, Claudia spoke. "I don't see why not. The young man's soul was strong. I may not be an angel, or a magic user, but my senses are sharp… Most of those under the Master aren't, though. Just those of us that came far too close to death before being brought into the fold."

That made Vaggie remember something that Charlie told her. "That is right. Your parents were killed by Exorcists, right?"

Claudia nodded. "An 'accident', as all hellborn deaths are, I am sure." It looked like Claudia wanted to spit pure bile as she spoke, but she was far too proper to do so. Barely, but she was. "That is the case with all of us that were 'adopted' into the fold. Most of us got wounds from angelic steel. Those scars don't heal, and the magic of Heaven leaves marks, more so if inflicted young… They aren't useful, but many get a little 'boon' from it: We can feel when a Sinner, or a soul, has strength. Some get greater benefits, or nothing but a crippling injury. I sit comfortably in the middle." Claudia thought back. "All three mortals were anything but weak in fact. A strong group. A diligent one. Lady Emily and Mistress found good support in them."

Vaggie nodded. That at least told her that trying this was not a complete waste of time. More so if things ended up working, somehow. "So when it comes to picking…"

"Any of them would be a suitable partner for you and the Mistress." Claudia said with a small shrug. "So long as they are devoted to her and loyal to Hell, of course."

"Of course." Vaggie let out a sigh. Well, that was it. At least this could answer a few things about her own person and, perhaps, do more than that in the interim. We'll see. "Thanks, Claudia."

The Imp smirked. It was not a shit eating grin, but it clearly was meant with some sass. "I am here to serve, my lady."

"Sure you are." Vaggie snickered. Tonight had ended up going better than expected, little breakdown in the middle of the day notwithstanding. "But it is late now. I suggest we go rest. We'll need a clear mind for tomorrow in case we get some questions asked."

Vaggie made to go, only for her skirt to be grabbed by the Imp the moment she took her first step. The strength, again, grabbed her more by surprise than anything else.

Claudia had a very strange expression on her face. A mix of concern and anger would be the best fit for a description.

"What are you trying, really?" Claudia asked, letting Vaggie's skirt go as soon as the angel had stopped and turned to face the smaller woman. "You have proven I don't have all the information I should, but I have enough. Why is someone just interested in women looking for a man?" The face turned into one of mistrust as Claudia's expression hardened. "I will let go of past actions. I can understand when mistakes are made, I can forgive them. But if you are doing something that will hurt the Mistress now, after you 'learned' your lesson…"

Vaggie made a face herself, but being unwilling to answer wouldn't do her any favors here. And the warning undertone on Claudia's voice made it clear that, unlike Charlie, the Imp WOULD hurt her.

Or she'd try, at least. Surprise aside, Vaggie was confident in her skills if she had to fight. Doing it, win or lose, was not smart though.

"I may prefer women, but Charlie doesn't mind anything, and I am not about to force my own tastes on her." Vaggie frowned, but it was more directed at her own past actions. "But that is part of the problem. I don't truly know what I am."

Claudia softened a bit. Now she looked pensive at this. "You died young, didn't you?"

"Barely an adult, depending on how you look at it." The latina made a face. She wasn't about to go through those memories again. "And being honest? I never really found the average male physique to be interesting." A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about it. "Todos esos músculos… ¡Ugh!" Which also hinted her the right way: A muscular woman was also far away from her own tastes. "But effeminate men? Perhaps."

"You have one of the gayest men in Hell here, my lady." Claudia had a droll tone as she spoke. To be honest, she deserved to be this crash, because Vaggie had walked into it. Heck, Vaggie knew who the Imp was talking about because she knew the spider was going to be brought up. "Angel Dust isn't exactly unknown. And he can pull off quite a drag act."

"But he also sounds like a man, has a massive drug addiction problem, is violent at the drop of a hat and, whether he wants it or not, he is a 'man's man', even if more on the 'camp gay' kind of way." And let's be honest here: Vaggie didn't mind that kind of thing. Much. But she also didn't want most of it near her, or Charlie. Much less the bedroom. Even LESS if children were in the future. Not that Angel would regularly fuck women id given the chance. "That doesn't work for me."

Claudia hummed a bit at this, her gaze wandering a bit. She was clearly thinking about something before she spoke. "I suppose then that the young and petite man, Lucien, would fall more into your field."

"He sounded like a woman when we talked, looked very much like one, if flat, and… that is it." Vaggie rubbed her temple. This was not exactly the smartest thing she had done. "I just want to test the waters here. Learn a bit more about myself while at it. I'll tell Charlie that is what this is for. Besides, we do have to get to know the three friends. We will be working with them for a long time, whether this works or not."

"Hmm… Well, this may help you AND her both. Just make sure to not lead anyone around. I may not care for some random human much, but in this case these people are helping all of Hell. Even if I don't have much hope for this plan, I do wish for it to succeed… and making a friendly turn into an enemy doesn't bode well." Claudia spoke calmly, even if her eyes were anything but. She was looking at Vaggie as if the angel was little more than something to munch on. Her dedication, Vaggie would gladly admit, was heartwarming while also being scary. "But if it all works? Then you will only have congratulations from me."

"I don't plan on hurting anyone. I plan to test the waters. To see what feels right. To finally find a bit of myself after all the shit I had to go through and the crap I forced on others." Although… "I suppose having a plan is nice and all, at least until it shatters into a million pieces. Because I may want to do things one way, but I don't know how it is going to develop."

"No one does." Claudia agreed. "Ever." This made Vaggie look, and the apparent hurt on Claudia's face told her far too much about the Imp. That face quickly changed though, masking whatever was behind. "But so long as you don't hurt the Mistress? I wish you luck. As for now? I'll take you on that offer. We all should return to our rooms. I doubt most of us will sleep well tonight."

Vaggie chuckled a bit at that. If nothing else she had noticed something. "You don't like cameras, do you?"

"We are made to be neither seen nor heard unless necessary." Claudia huffed, clearly flustered. "Others would've made a better speaker for my own kind, perhaps that assassin that works for the Master for now. It takes a lot of effort to remain professional there. The whole Living World is going to see me! I don't want that kind of attention."

That was the most human Vaggie had seen Claudia. The Imp had a great control of most of her emotions, except when she was afraid and in trusted company from what little Vaggie had seen, but flustered her enough and the shell cracks.

"Better get used to it then. Lucifer did recommend you for a reason." Though Vaggie wasn't going to let it slip that there were other, far more underhanded, motives for Claudia to be here. And, honestly? She was starting to like the girl. At least a friendly face she could be. "But hey, we can tackle that tomorrow. Right now I think a snooze would hit the spot."

Claudia was more than happy to do so. She didn't look like it, but Vaggie was sure that the Imp had been tired from today's short event. The angel knew Claudia's type.

Shy, introverted, smart, capable, but also the bane of any public outing. Claudia had been molded to be a wallflower despite her apparent bravado. If Vaggie was to presume something she knew was true, it was that Claudia would kill and die for Lucifer and Charlie both, perhaps even for Vaggie too, if the Imp ended up liking her well enough, considering Charlie was never going to let the latina go, thus making her part of the royal family unless something happened. But talking in public and all that? It would exhaust the Imp beyond belief.

Simply put: Claudia would do anything she was commanded by the Morningstars, but that did not mean she could endure it well. Training or not, this was not like some Spartan bootcamp. The young Imp woman could be, and look, tough, but that didn't mean she *was, not as much as she probably wanted to be.

On an unrelated note. Vaggie would admit to something: For her size? Claudia had a great ass. And Vaggie was not ashamed of admitting that as she followed the Imp back inside the hotel.

Because, during the talk with Charlie, the little Princess had said the very same thing to her. And you know what? She was right. Though Charlie had looked soooo guilty! At the time Vaggie had frowned a bit, but she also understood in no time. After all, Charlie had indeed told Vaggie nearly everything. And one thing she said, way back when? Her needs were almost always in overdrive. Heck, Charlie was born here, to the two most powerful dwellers of Hell. The influences of the place had gotten to her since birth. That Charlie was hornier than the horniest man alive, probably even more so than Succubi as a whole, was just something Vaggie had accepted a long time ago. It was also a mighty show of mental fortitude just how Charlie controlled that brutal lust within her body and acted like a perfect little angel most of the time too.

Vaggie snickered. Well, this was Hell. And as far as 'bad' things go? Looking was free, harmless, and both of them were doing it now.

Though, she did have to wonder… How would Claudia react if they were to tell them the whole truth?

Eh, better not, not yet. Vaggie was already going to be tempting fate with one person. She would have time, along with Charlie, to get to know Claudia and Gina both. Who knows? Perhaps Lucien would awake something in her and he'd stay too in the end.

Though Vaggie could swear she had felt something about him with her little exposure to the man. She had mentioned it to exactly no one however, partly because she was not sure what that 'something' was and partly because it felt… wrong in some way.. Today had been a fucking ride and she was just as sure that she was mistaken and probably making things in her head to not give this a go. Whatever, her doubts wouldn't stop this little excursion of hers. So long as she didn't hurt anyone of course, she had promised so.

Just.. her fears were always there. Perhaps a good night of rest would do her well. Everyone was already sleeping, so she had no excuse. That, and nothing else was going to need her oversight today.

Everyone came back, no one made a mess. Even Alastor seemed subdued for whatever reason. Now her mind was clearer than before and she felt some kind of peace with the ideas in her head. Whether it all would go well or not, that was for future Vaggie to worry about, not the one right here, right now. She needed to calm down just as much as Charlie and, on top of it all, she needed to stop struggling with everything.

So Vaggie went to her room, her mind at least more relaxed than before. Here was hoping tomorrow's little interview wouldn't go to shit. If it went okay enough? Then perhaps she could truly relax for a while.

Just… for a while…

* Hell - Hazbin Hotel - Alastor's Bayou *

How would you define finding something you utterly loathe to be true? Ah. Yes.

Vexing.

Alastor had been fighting to find his appetite for a while now. There was a frown in his eyes as the piece of deer, for once well cooked if you can imagine, sat there, untouched. A bit of magic to ensure it was perfectly preserved had been used hours ago. It could remain there for days and still be in its prime. And why be so careful to keep it intact? Because one doesn't disrespect such a gift from dear Rosie of course! What gentleman would do such a thuggish thing? Not Alastor, that is for sure.

Though he had been fighting the urge to trash the place.

Alastor sat at his table, looking at a perfectly cooked steak with a beautiful spread to accompany it, a well aged wine bottle on the side and the assured fact of this being a repeatable event. Other than his personal enjoyment, and he DID enjoy it, eating an aged carcash could easily turn out to be a thing of the past.

Because this meat came from Earth.

Apparently someone had managed to summon one of Rosie's cannibals to Earth while he was out. Not a hellborn, much less someone powerful enough and well known enough to be easily brought to the living world through a standardized ritual like, say, a Goetic demon. No: They brought a SINNER to the living world.

What was Impossible has been made Possible, and just within a short day.

The influence of this permanent portal was massive and readily felt. It wouldn't surprise Alastor if more events like this had taken place and no one noticed. Not even Lucifer, if he had been inclined to broaden his control and keep an eye out, would be able to notice all the possible small rifts, or the likely income in souls after someone summoned a former human more interested in KILLING the (likely) incompetent summoner, as Alastor thought would be the case with Rosie's cannibal girl. Though, surprisingly, the meeting between Sinner and mortal went well and a whole deer had been part of the agreed payment.

Alastor didn't know WHAT had been done or why, Rosie could be a tease like that, but apparently things had gone really well.

As in really, really, well.

To the point where the young man that summoned the cannibal woman may've managed to woo her somehow.

You may question the reasons WHY a living human man, a young one at that, perhaps barely out of his teens, if Rosie's little gossip was anywhere close to the truth and wasn't just playing a joke on Alastor, was interested in one of the many Sinners that were around a century old in Cannibal Town. Alastor sure didn't see why, or how, but then again, he had his own close encounters with the occult when he was younger. Who was he to question the attraction one felt to what came after a mortal's life?

But oh my, didn't the Radio Demon want to see how THAT trainwreck was going to conclude. Or would it end well and turn into a sappy romance he had no interest in?

Oh well. It is not like *HE* lacked problems of his own to focus on.

That young man…

"He is a clever one, isn't he? Or is it his mother the one to watch out for?"

That was a question Alastor had been muttering to himself for no less than an hour now. Who was the biggest problem?

Miss Mayberry… The woman had obviously never been in Alastor's radar. No. Pentagram City was the capital of Pride for a reason: A great many Sinners fell there. In fact the Pentagram above three souls down constantly. It wasn't the only place of course; far too many souls for even the massive Pentagram in the sky that had a reach far bigger than the eye'd tell you just by looking at it. Despite its power, Mayberry fell on Imp City, one of the few areas with very few Sinners and dominated by the hellborn, a rarity in Pride.

Make no mistake though. Alastor would not have paid much, if any, attention to Sarah Mayberry, not at first. Though he WOULD have known of her, that is for sure. Between her history with Marta, a well known cannibal in Imp City, and the anger her soul had fueled into a raging inferno for a time, there would've been words. And while yes, she was a teacher for children, she was still a teacher. That meant the woman had brains, unlike many of today's 'learned' that 'guided' the new generation instead being accepted into such a position by spouting propaganda and being 'special' in some way.

By God, and yes, Alastor would swear on Him for this one, did Alastor want to puke when he thought of the learning institutions of today's world. Not only in America, mind you, but across the world in so many countries that should be advancing instead of receding.

Stupidity was indeed one of the few things that made the Radio Demon lose his appetite and become truly incensed.

And as such, he knew that Mayberry was no fool. He had made quick work of that research. The woman could, and he did mean *COULD* be a problem. But was she one now or was that for the future?

Now, her son…

Jack Mayberry was not stupid. Neither were his friends. His shadows had been doing more than just watch, and they were now following the mortals around. Very diminished they were, that is true, for being in the mortal world did not sever the conection, but it sure as all of Hell made the shadows feel more like distant, half blind eyes and nearly deaf ears than anything else. Still, some information was better than none, and with bits and pieces Alastor could form a well formed picture without being really intrusive. But that still didn't give him the whole thing, of course.

What he got was still not nothing, and that was enough. Right now the other two weren't important, but Alastor was no fool. They both had big roles to play. Dominic had an essence to him that called to the occult, not in a practitioner kind of way, but one kind of connection that would be revealed in its full glory in the future. Alastor would need to nearly kill the young man to find out WHAT it was, but he had neither the inclination nor the desire to botch dear Charlie's plan just for some curiosity. More importantly: He was the adoptive brother of the wayward Lucien. The emulsions of that young man's soul! A mix of Sin and Virtue; Loyalty, Honor, Debauchery, Cruelty. There was much in there.

Jack had very few physical friends, but those two were powerful and Jack himself had a shark brain and ironclad determination to do things. He wouldn't have tried killing himself otherwise. No, men like him are either stalwart, or cowards, and despite what many say, cowards don't off themselves most of the time. Cowards make others do the dirty work for them, or make sure other people have suffering and pain enough to leave them alone, turning into monsters to keep themselves safe.

Thus came the reason why Jack could be a problem: The man, young as he was, would keep pushing like a battering ram against a door. Truly laughable to think he'd make a breach, but he certainly nicked the paint.

Because, short as it had been that foray into a disgusting age Alastor loathed more than anything, the Radio Demon had an admission to make.

He had enjoyed those few minutes.

Vile rose to his mouth for a second but Alastor pushed it back without effort.

The deer had admitted to this many times and it kept leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

… or did it?

Knowledge was quite the weapon indeed, and Jack had known what to pick. The young man had likely delved in many games and forms of entertainment. Alastor was sure this went from pornographic and disgusting entries that some would call 'games', to adventures even Alastor would've found entertaining, for they were only in written format, had they not been relegated to that damnable television.

Knowledge begets experience. That is, of course, if one survives, digest the knowledge, and then put it into practice.

Stupid a prospect when it comes to videogames? Perhaps. Alastor was biased here of course. But there was one universal truth to heed: Nothing was stupid if enough effort and knowledge was put into it. For decades people thought videogames and movies would die off. For centuries humanity was sure that teaching people so everyone (or almost everyone) could read and write was a fruitless effort. Now things have proven that such thoughts, thoughts that plagued every endeavor ever undertaken by human hands, were hubris of the highest order.

Jack knew just what game to offer Alastor when the young man put his offer on the table, an offer Alastor found far too tempting to just say 'no' to. The young man knew his craft, knew enough of his 'enemy' as it were, and decided to throw the bait he was aware Alastor would take.

Hubris. Alastor suffered from it. He took the young man's offer and expected things to go as they should: Alastor would hate it, he'd put up with the damn thing long enough to get his prize and then never think of the damn technology ever again except to spit on its grave someday.

But that wasn't the case.

Again, Jack had thought this with far more care than Alastor had given him credit for.

A race, now enslaved, about to be turned into meat pops for profit. A daring escape with cruelty, bloodseed, manipulation and betrayal. Countless moments of death, pain, possession and explosive ends.

No. Alastor did not care for the world, its species or what have you. But the story was interesting, and Alastor was a sucker for a good story. More than that? He was a sucker for misery and pain, that of others of course. And this damn game Jack had pulled out of nowhere? It had that and more. It was a game where brutality and cruelty could indeed be exploited with gruesome effect and displayed in all its gorey, disgusting glory. But it wasn't one of those modern things that allowed you to do as you pleased: It was as much an adventure as it was a puzzle, a tricky little thing you had to fight against to win, not just pour lead and watch numbers go up and down until you won.

It was perhaps one of the few games Alastor would admit to enjoy without throwing up. And that admission on itself already made the vile come back again.

"I am done with this pussyfooting around."

But the ire was far stronger than the disgust. And Alastor's determination would not be pushed back by finding himself weak against ONE thing he'd just relegated to memory, fondly or with hate, he cared not, in the future.

He summoned his cane, speaking clearly, but leaving none of his past feelings spread into his words.

"Aggregate. Come."

The sizzling of air turning into fried ozone as a bluish portal opened with a red ring of crackling light was soundles for all of Hell but the Radio Demon himself. It was also swift, closing just as fast as it opened.

And in front of him stood two figures with a single golden orb in the middle: The Aggregate.

In life a young man called Thomas Filcher, now a being composed of three minds. Although that isn't the whole truth, and to be honest, Alastor was sure that, in another life, he would've had far less success in snatching this young man and his siblings from Vox.

After all, The Aggregate was a Sinner not only composed of three separate minds that once lived in one body, but one made into a futuristic existence that Alastor only acquired to spite Vox.

The golden orb was perhaps the most appealing at first glance; a floating orbital the size of a heart but perfectly round, with hieroglyphs etched all over its surface. Thomas, despite his name, had heritage from Egypt, and The Aggregate showed it in full. But 'The Glowing One', the orbital that formed part of The Aggregate, was the most strikingly obvious on this, if generally always silent despite being an accomplished telephat.

He also was sexless and childish, but this part of Thomas had always felt more like an infant aged boy than anything else. So why not humor him?

The other two bodies of The Aggregate were far more detailed than just a 'floating orb'.

To the right was Thomas himself, or at least the part of Thomas' soul that had physical form and control. He was an android; a slick, humanoid looking figure with white plating that mimicked muscle with neon blue highlights that had been toned down to a manageable and subdued color. He had no face, his soul forming a featureless, expressionless visage, similar to his lack of genitalia and other descriptors, as well as lack of feet as he hovered in the air, the round stumps where his feet should be somehow maintaining him as he stood. The only thing with any detail on him were his intricate hands capable of shaping themselves into whatever he willed, morphing his metal and soul into technological marvels that Alastor, admittedly, hardly cared for. But he did find Thomas' abilities useful in certain aspects, more so when messing with Vox.

To the left was a winged, copper colored female robot. A much cruder design with hands having only three large, stubby and segmented fingers that looked more like blunt, semi rectangular claws that ended in that round stump looking base. High heels of red for feet, with no toes but with great detail; sharp, lethal and far more mobile than she'd let on. Greenish metal covered her legs as if it was pants, a dark brown material imitating what looked like a jacket on her chest, one she amply and happily showed to be of 'healthy' size under those 'clothes'. Her face, inhuman and instead flat, with a working, square mouth that could easily speak and open like any other living soul, was equally as off putting for first timers as her similarly rectangular eyes glowing green with eldritch fueled energies that kept her body alive. A cascade of copper like weirs formed 'hair' that sparkled at the ends when her mood struck.

The Glowing One, The Word Seeker and The Data Angel all formed The Aggregate; a soul trice sold to Hell in life when Thomas' parents contacted a Goetia, which one eluded Alastor, to offer three lives in exchange of a boon.

Such good parents, offering their children before they were even born.

Such disgusting individuals, in Alastor's not so humble opinion. The Radio Demon would do many things, but children should be spared, unless they do deserve horrid fates. A sad thing indeed when such outcomes are far more likely as of late.

The Goetia likely thought like Alastor, though The Radio demon doubted it was for the same reason. Why, Alastor was sure, and so was The Aggregate, that the Goetia had only been offended because the 'sacrifice' was little more than three wisps of a soul still in their mother's womb. That meant absolutely nothing, less than that in fact, because such sacrifices would call Heaven upon whoever dealt with the damn things.

Long story short: Thomas was forced to live with two other voices in his head, not out of mental illness, but thanks to a magic ritual gone wrong that landed young Thomas into the care of an orphanage after his birth once his blood relatives had either died during the young one's birth, or an accident afterwards.

A clever yet simple way to get rid of someone that tried to offer you a bad deal while also creating collateral damage that spoke not of your own hand on the deal's failure. That Goetia likely had to grease a few palms and create no few contingencies so the primordial Laws of Hell didn't get him in the end, otherwise ALL of Hell would've learned of a Goetia soul getting snuffed permanently, no matter how anyone else, even Lucifer, tried to hide the news.

But history time was over with this one. Alastor would not keep reminescending and trying to hide the reason behind his calling. He barely used The Aggregate's abilities and today was one of those few days where his ownership of this conjoined soul came in handy.

"Have you looked into what I asked of you?"

To be precise: Alastor had already asked something of the group.

"Of course, sir." The Word Seeker spoke in a humming, monotone, but still pleasing tone. His words echoing around him, not coming from his 'face'. "The three you asked us to monitor are now 'safe'."

The Glowing One hovered up and down as his own speech came directly to Alastor's mind. Bubbly, childish, full of energy and far too much glee. "A meanie is looking at them too!"

Alastor frowned ever so slightly. "A meanie, young one?"

"Some uppercrust demon." The Data Angel's words were far more mechanical, charged with static, but womanly and mature, if with a shred of scorn whenever she spoke. "Its reach into technology faded when we came in. But I am sure it is some kind of noble."

"Troubling." Alastor grumbled as he tapped his clawed fingers on his cane for a few seconds. Goetia? No. Lucifer would've known. There are other nobles out there, even Imps (extremely few as they are), but none have real interest in so 'lowly' a human life. "Any leads?"

"None, sir." Word Seeker hummed again. "I assure you they were no Imp, Hound or Succubi however. Perhaps a more keen magic or technologically gifted user from deeper Rings."

That didn't narrow it down too much. "Keep an eye out for that too. But for now the task remains simple: Ensure Vox, or any other overlord with affinity to technology, doesn't get wind on this."

Sure it would help Charlie that Alastor was taking his own precautions, few as they may be, but this was first and foremost for his own sake.

Let no one tell you otherwise.

"Of course, boss." Data Angel gave a crisp nod, her 'hair' crackling as her mouth somehow formed a smirk. While rougher and less advanced looking than her brother, she was still a Sinner, and more magic than anything else. "Should we dispose of them if found?"

"Only if you record the act." Alastor nodded with appreciation. The trio hadn't lived a happy life. It made them into people Alastor could appreciate in his own way. "And, sadly, only if necessary. Dear Charlie's task will give us little time to enjoy ourselves."

The Glowing One began to hover around. "But with no games we become bored! I want to play!"

"We'll have time to enjoy ourselves later." Alastor chidded good naturedly. Childish The Glowing One may be, but the things that 'child' had done… Alastor could appreciate some of his abilities. "For now make sure to monitor everything, and keep an eye out on that little interview tomorrow. If there is one demon already looking into this we may have more soon, or perhaps heavenly presence."

A variety of yesses came his way, some more enthusiastic, or bloodthirsty, than others. The Aggregate preferred time away to toil at technology than to work in almost anything else, even killing, but they hardly had a bad thing to say about the deal they made with Alastor.

Particularly because Alastor generally left the trio to their own devices and hardly bothered them, barely taking much power from the Sinners at all. Again, he did what he did to take from Vox, not because he found the group particularly useful.

This had been the first assignment he had officially given them since their first deal in fact. Other than a few times when Alastor wanted not to sully his hands with certain kills and technologic afairs, this had been the only time The Aggregate had been told to keep on a job for any length of time. And that means it had been nearly twenty five years with a deal that hadn't been used much, what with The Aggregate landing in Hell shortly before the year two thousand. Poor ol' Thomas lived a short and unhappy life, not even making it to thirty, and now was living much happier in Hell than he had done on Earth. At least here he had his brother and sister physically there, not in his head.

In a way Alastor had done a good deed by taking them in.

This raked him far more than he'd ever let on. But anything is game, so long as it gets Vox's knickers in a twist.

"Sir, before you allow us to depart."

The words of Word Seeker brought Alastor out of his five second long introspection. "Yes, young man?"

"I brought this back."

A gramophone.

The Word Seeker opened a small portal to The Aggregate's hideout. Alastor barely ever bothered to go; it was underground, which in Hell, any layer of it, was an accomplishment. The place tried to repair itself, to grow, at all times. The effort that the trio used on keeping safe and away from everyone could, in Alastor's far more experienced opinion, be better employed in strengthening their own abilities, but it kept them safe and away from Alastor's eye, which he appreciated.

It also hid all that damnable technology they worked on. But this? This was an old school gramophone, a very old one that Alastor had decided to retire long ago. It wasn't special looking, enchanted or anything like that; it was a second hand little thing that was given to him a long time ago and that Alastor hadn't ever bothered modifying because it meant something to him.

A singular little thing he managed to find a way of getting down here with him.

Because it had been a gift from his mother.

"It is… intact."

Fine pine cover, detailed brass engraved with various woodland critters, those were the highlights. Otherwise it was, to many, an old relic without much value. Why, Alastor wouldn't allow his own lips to sully its memory and lie by saying it was priceless. After all, its value, Alastor's desire towards it, lay in how it came into his possession, why it ended up landing on his hands, and who gave the little thing to him. He would also be lying if he said it was worth nothing, after all a gramophone, ironically enough, was worth a lot more today (if it was an original) than gold, if you found the right buyer.

But this one was his, and not only that: This one had great memories attached to it.

"Not intact, but close. We recreated the manufacturing of the pieces to make them as close to the original as possible." Data Angel crossed her arms with a huff. "Brother insisted."

"Debts require payment." Word Seeker spoke with just a slight hint of venom. "One must respect the other's desires."

The Glowing One was far simpler. "It was fun. Different."

All of that was fine and dandy to Alastor. The moment that The Glowing One brought the thing to him Alastor couldn't care less. Laying his hands on the thing he could still feel it: A faint hum of what he once had.

Mostly gone now, true. The original had died, much as he disliked the idea. Gone with everything else the Radio Demon had cherished in life. But part of it, only part, had survived. Most pieces were new, but crafted without the taint of modern technology, without imitation of the real thing. It had been likely demeaning to the trio, even if The Aggregate tried to hide it. Alastor could appreciate it, in his own way.

"I… thank you three." Alastor cleared his throat after that initial little stumble. "I truly thought you would just keep its remains safe."

"That was the original plan, but these two wanted to do 'something nice' for you." Data Angel looked away, though Alastor could feel her usual heat wasn't in there.

"Again, debt repaid." Word Seeker let out. "We were granted safety for little to nothing. That could not remain so."

"You were nice, so we are nice back!" The Glowing One spoke his mind more than the other two, and with far less control. "We play together or you let us do what we want! So here is a little gift for you."

"It took as long as sin because of how things were made back then. Hell has nearly no way of going back to how things were, much less in Pride." Data Angel was now literally peeved. "Technology may be one of our things, but information is another. Even with so many areas trying to stick with old lore, tech and ways of life, it is almost impossible to keep it 'pure' as it was."

Alastor grimaced. "Indeed… Even my dear radio tower is not all it should be nowadays." Ugh, *progress*. Alastor wanted to barf at the mere thought of the meaning given to that word nowadays. "But I'll admit, I do thank you, I sincerely do, for this. There are noticeable changes, but it is truly a gesture I won't ignore."

"No original pieces though!" The Glowing One hovered near Alastor. "We wanted to use them, but there is none left! Now that there is a way to the living world… Could we go play as robbers and find some?"

Well, that wasn't an offer he had expected, and it made Alastor chuckle out loud. He would've loved to have his old gramophone as pure and as close to perfect as he could, but that could wait. This was already far more than he had expected from anyone.

"Perhaps at a later date." Alastor went as far as petting the floating little orb, managing to get some kind of 'coo' from the soul within. "For now go do your thing. Tomorrow will be a busy day if someone tries to poke their noses where they shouldn't."

Again Alastor received various affirmations, only this time The Aggregate left, leaving Alastor with his returned possession.

The Radio Demon looked at a memory, no longer charred and broken, but rebuilt and back to form.

He placed it to the side as he pondered. If he had allowed Vox to get this soul he would've never had this back. So, did Charlie have a point with her inane approach to kindness and a hope for the betterment of Hell?

Alastor let out a chuckle. Of course not. What a stupid thing to think about. Why had his thought process gone that way?

Eh, probably a remnant from better times.

He laid a hand on the gramophone.

Much better times…

…

His worry about liking a little damn game was inconsequential. This would be a one and done kind of thing. For once he could enjoy a guilty, wrong, pleasure, couldn't he? And that was coming from a serial killer and a cannibal on top of it all!

With a little laugh, and a much lighter mood, Alastor decided that yes, at last it was time to enjoy his meal.

It almost tasted like home.