The sky was lit with a reddish glow as the sun set over the Hazbin Hotel. It was another game night at the insistence of Charlotte Morningstar; the hotel's residents came into the lobby, making themselves comfortable for an evening of ongoing fun. The lists consisted of various card games like: UNO, Cards Against Humanity, and Joking Hazard to board games like: Monopoly, CATAN, and Twister at Charlie's insistence.
Alastor was hard at work in his office, dealing with small piles of financial reports given to him earlier in the day by Vaggie. Although he never doubted Vaggie's mathematical skills, he found himself spending hours reviewing the budget for the hotel's groceries. The discrepancies between the numbers he crunched into a calculator (as much as he loathed technology, and eventually caved into the use of a calculator once he realized it made this grueling process a tad bit faster) and the figures on the documents were driving him to frustration due to them not aligning up. The moment Alastor felt that pulsating sensation in his forehead, he was immediately aware that the evening ahead would be fraught with stress and discomfort. Recognizing the warning signs, he decided to pause his review of the budget and take a much-needed break. The pain always began as a subtle tension headache, gradually building into an overwhelming sensation that felt as if his skull might split open, leaving him incapacitated on the cold tiles, seeking solace in front of a "porcelain god" and absolute darkness. The impending feeling of immobility forced him to ponder the value of his sacrifices by becoming the hotelier to this hotel. Collecting his abandoned coat, coffee cup, and staff, he exited the office, ensuring the door was securely closed behind him, and made his way to the kitchen in search of respite, the all mighty blessed caffeine.
Standing by the door, Alastor leaned his aching head against the cool wooden frame, feeling the weight of the evening's events bearing down on him. The noise from the lobby hinted at something significant happening, but the bustling activity only served to aggravate his sensitive deer ears. Reluctantly accepting his role in the unfolding events, he began the careful journey down the hall, each step a cautious measure to avoid worsening his already throbbing body and head. Nausea started to seep in as he reached the end of the hall, and as he gazed down the staircase, an internal battle waged within him, ultimately leading to his decision not to subject himself to the physically taxing descent. With a weary sigh, he disappeared into the shadows to utilize a faster means of travel.
When Alastor reached the bottom of the steps and stepped out of the shadows, he headed to the kitchen, glancing at the residents gathered in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie were chilling on the loveseat, while Angel and Husk were still at the bar grabbing bottles of alcohol for the evening. When they made eye contact with Alastor, they all gave a quick nod, understanding that no one wanted to talk at the moment. Niffy, as usual, was squashing roaches until late at night. Cherri Bomb was strolling over to the sofa, while Lucifer was coming out of the kitchen with all sorts of sweet treats and snacks.
As Alastor took a few tentative steps forward, a sudden sharp pulse in his skull sent a wave of nausea crashing over him. His lip curled slightly in discomfort, the only telltale sign that something was amiss with the radio demon. Meanwhile, from her seat on the loveseat, Charlie's gaze fell upon Alastor, prompting her to swiftly rise and approach him. Though she usually brought a sense of lightness with her, Alastor found himself unable to embrace her usual bubbly cheer at that moment. Adding to his distress was Lucifer's penetrating stare, silently observing their interaction and waiting for Alastor to make a misstep and initiate an exchange of familial banter.
"Hey, Al! We are planning a game night and would love for you to join us. It's going to be a lot of fun, I promise! Remember that epic UNO match with Angel where you got him to draw 24 cards? It would be great to have you there," exclaimed Charlie excitedly.
"Thank you for the invitation I would love to join. However, I have some pressing business matters to attend to this evening, and there's still a substantial amount of paperwork that needs my attention - calculations, verifications, and reviews," said Alastor, holding his staff tightly, searching for a polite way out of the activity.
"What's the matter, Al? Can't join in a simple game with the rest of us? Are you worried about losing your winning streak?" asked Lucifer in a slightly provoking tone, raising his brow.
"Of course not, but while you enjoy the game night, I'll be occupied with supporting Charlotte's aspirations," Alastor replied, attempting to conceal his growing headache.
"Dad, there's no need to force anyone to do something they don't want to. Remember the importance of setting boundaries?" said Charlie, as Lucifer looked at her and then towards the couch in acquiescence.
Charlie shifted her gaze back to Alastor, her eyes narrowing in concern as she observed his eye twitching. Tilting her head in curiosity, she discreetly took note of how his lip curled in obvious discomfort. Her intuition screamed that something was wrong, but she chose to keep it to herself for the time being. Turning her attention back to her father, she gently guided him back to the couch, assuring him that she would join him shortly. As her father walked away, seemingly against his better judgment, Charlie turned her attention back to Alastor, her senses on high alert.
"Are you all right?" She asked cautiously, observing Alastor closely, unsure if he would share his true feelings.
"Nothing to trouble yourself with, my dear! Just a mild inconvenience that a little bit of caffeine would not fix," Alastor replied, his face contorting with a wince as another throb of pain shot through his head.
"Right... if there was something wrong, you would tell me, right? You can count on us if anything is wrong," Charlie said in a hushed tone, guarding their privacy from the others.
"Charlotte, it's only a headache aggravated by my lack of usual caffeine intake. I will be fine after a night's rest. Now, my dear, if you don't mind, I have things to attend to," Alastor said, stepping around Charlie and making his way to the kitchen.
Charlie stood in the lobby, observing Alastor as he moved around her with a noticeable concern etched on her features. With a quiet sigh of defeat, she returned to the loveseat, where she cuddled her girlfriend, preparing for the evening's events. Meanwhile, in the well-equipped kitchen, Alastor made his way to the coffee pot, his "Oh Deer" mug in hand. He delicately placed the mug on the countertop, then rubbed his forehead, attempting to alleviate the pressure slowly building behind his eyes. Despite having developed genuine care for dear Charlotte after the extermination, and despite dealing with Lucifer as he allowed the short king to heal his angelic wound, he found himself at a loss emotionally. The all-mighty, feared Radio Demon was unexpectedly developing a soft spot for the residents of the hotel. To compound his emotional turmoil, his irrational fear of someone discovering his migraine and witnessing his moment of vulnerability was causing a slow and steady rise of panic. Seeking solace, he began to prepare his cup of coffee. Since Lucifer moved in, the kitchen equipment had transformed from simple to elegant, a change that secretly annoyed the sinner, yet it was effective for him. With the press of a few buttons, his coffee started to brew, emitting a tantalizing aroma throughout the kitchen.
Once the coffee had finished brewing, Alastor carefully poured himself a steaming cup of the rich, dark liquid. The tantalizing aroma aggravated his already unsettled stomach, but he managed to keep his nausea at bay once again. After returning the pot to its holder, Alastor reached for his cup, only to be jolted by a sharp pain in his head. Despite the discomfort, he tightly gripped his mug as he made his way back to the lobby, where the sound of laughter echoed through the air.
Stepping through the lobby, Alastor encountered his longtime adversary—the staircase. Letting out a weary sigh and rueful of his decisions, he opted for the newly installed elevator instead of risking a disorienting shadow travel and potentially spilling his beloved caffeinated beverage.
Pressing the button and waiting for the elevator to reach him, he took a cautious sip of his freshly brewed coffee. Once the doors dinged, notifying him of its decent and doors opening, he made his way inside, pressing the button to his floor as the doors closed, he relaxed. Leaning against the elevator wall, he felt an uncomfortable heat and the sensation of perspiration along his spine beneath his coat. Closing his eyes briefly, the throbbing in his head intensified, accompanied by an unsettling wave of nausea as the elevator ascended floor by floor, reminiscent of a bout of motion sickness dragging him down.
As the elevator door dinged, Alastor cautiously stepped out, pressing his hand against the wall for support. With a deep breath, he slowly slid down to the floor, ensuring not a drop of his prized drink was spilled as he gently placed it on the carpet. He chided himself for his weakness, contemplating how he would manage to make it back to his office or, better yet, his bedroom.
At that moment, his stomach revolted and he felt a surge of acid rising in his throat. Startled, he grabbed his coffee cup to hide his weakness and then teleported to his room just in time. He went straight to the "porcelain god" and threw up everything he had eaten that day. At that point, he realized there was no way he could do any paperwork. After flushing the waste, he slowly got up to get a cup of water. However, he had forgotten about the coffee cup he had brought with him during the teleportation and left it on the floor. Unfortunately, he accidentally knocked it over. He was already feeling frustrated, and this only added to his aggravation. Feeling defeated, he finally got the water to rinse his mouth. It took a lot of effort to fill the cup and then make his way into his darkened room and into bed, with the help of his shadow familiar dimming the lights for him. Once in bed, the familiar brought over a waste basket, while Alastor put the water cup on his nightstand. With a simple snap of his fingers for a bit of magic, Alastor changed out of his daily wear into something more comfortable.
As the familiar gazed at its master, a look of deep concern spread across its face. The once bright smile on the familiar's lips had transformed into a sorrowful frown. Alastor, feeling the weight of weariness, slowly retreated under the comforting embrace of the covers. In the dimly lit room, he stole a fleeting glance at the shadow, managing a small, reassuring smile. "Don't worry, my friend," Alastor murmured softly. "It's just a mild inconvenience." With those words, he closed his eyes, allowing the gentle embrace of sleep to envelop him.