"Alright!" Charlie chirped, clapping her hands as she turned around to her wards and staff. "Everyone, I'd like to hear you all give a great big Happy Hotel welcome to our newest addition: Brief!"

Across the room from her was Brief, sitting alone on a single chair. On the other side of the room, clustered together, was Angel, Niffty, and Husk, eying up the lad with something between skepticism, lust, and open fear and disgust. Charlie sighed and clapped her hands together once, all the chairs in the room skidding across the floor into a close-knit, friendly semi-circle.

"Brief!" She announced, gesturing to the small, pale boy. "Why don't you start off? Introduce yourself!"

"Uh, but didn't I–?"

"We already know what we need t'know, Chuck!" Angel exclaimed, gesturing at the boy. "The kid's a still-in-his-meatsuit Human and custom-made boy-toy of yer daddy's personal fleshlight expert!"

"Ten flavors of trouble and alla them start with shit and end with us dead or worse!" Husk spat as he glared at him. Brief wanted to shrink away.

"And he's single!" Niffty said, leering at Brief. "While we're on the topic of things that need fixing~"

"Everyone, please," Charlie said, walking over to a decidedly dejected-looking Brief. "So long as he and all of you are here, you're safe. This is a safe space! Safe to live, safe to change, safe to share. So, Brief, please, tell us all more about yourself."

Brief fidgeted, glancing over at the assortment of wary demons. "Uh, like, what do you want to know?"

"Your life, your hobbies, your passions and dreams~" Charlie trilled. "What makes Brief 'Brief'!"

Brief sighed, drumming his fingers on his thighs. "My life? Okay, yeah, let's start there. So, I was born the heir to the Rock Foundation. Do, uh, any of you guys know what that is?"

"They ran a white slavery racket outta Vegas while I manned a table there in the 50s," said Husk, sourly. "And you wonder why the Russkies hated America so much outside of us being Cappies and them commies."

"That's bad." Brief blinked.

"They did some insider trading for my pops in '28 and ran interference on repealing prohibition while shippin' Canuck gutrot up and down the coast," Angel Dust said, smirking. "Pretty sure I sucked off yer great grandpappy at a speakeasy." He even made a few 'pumping' motions with one of his hands, bulging out his cheek with his tongue. "Once or twice."

"Mmmmngh…" Brief groaned.

"I cleaned the bathrooms at R.A. Rock's LA pethouse in the 60s!" Niffty chimed in. "I saw too much and they dropped me into the Graaaand Canyon! It was a long fall."

Brief shrank in on himself "Oh… fun." He uttered with all the enthusiasm as stale rock solid mayonnaise. "At least it was quick…"

"Not really!" She chirped. "Survived the fall and landed on a fireant hill!"

"Oh. Ouch."

"Okay!" Charlie barked, stepping in with an awkward smile on her face. "Great! Family history out of the way! Brief, why don't you tell us what your hobbies are?" She turned to him, eager to move along.

"H-hobbies?" Brief paused for a moment. "Oh, like, the stuff I like? Well, I like playing Warhammer 40k, for one."

"Oooh~?" Charlie said, a curious lilt in her voice. "What's that?"

"Ooh boy, where to start…?" Brief muttered, shrugging. "It's a table-top board game. You buy these little figurines, each one representing an army unit with their own stats, put them together, paint them, and then you set them against someone else's army. Then you take turns, saying what your units are going to do, and roll a 20-sided dice to see if it pans out. Whoever kills all the other players' pieces, wins."

"Sounds rivetin', ya lost me when ya played with dolls" Angel deadpanned as Husk poured whiskey from a hipflask into his paper cup of coffee before taking a heavy swig himself.

"They're figurines." Brief corrected. "Like Chess Pieces."

"Sounds a lot like dolls to me, sweet cheeks." Angel smirked. "But hey, if'n ya like to play, I gots a game for ya~"

Brief took a deep breath through his nose.

"Shush!" Charlie scolded, softly, turning back to Brief. "That sounds really cool, Brief! I'm guessing the figurines are of soldiers and vehicles and things like that?"

"Aircraft, too," said Brief, nodding. "They're supposed to be like little armies. And there's all kinds of variations of every soldier, tank, APC, fighter, you name it. There's at least, like, four or five variants of each."

"Wow! Sounds complicated! I'd love to play sometime," said Charlie, smiling slyly. "Let me guess, there's a bunch of different factions, aren't there?"

"Oh yeah! Eleven, in fact! Well, 33 if you want to get technical, and every faction has its own mini-factions and off-shoots and what-not," Brief said, buoyed by her interest. "It's easier to understand if you've read the lore."

"Oh, here we go…" Husk grumbled. "The switch done got flipped."

"A switch?" Nifty asked. "He isn't a robo boy, is he?"

"No, I know the type." Husk rolled his eyes. "Introverted, keeps to himself. But when y'ask about the one thing they're into, boom, they become a motormouth with no choke."

"Maybe he's a switch himself too, nihihihihi~" Nifty giggled as the sphinx demon sighed through his nose. "Dommy Mommy Niffty can sink a sub like a depth charge!"

"Huh. Not bad there Nif." Angel mused. "Keeping that in my back pocket…"

"Lore?" Charlie leaned in, eyebrow raised. "There's lore? Like, stories and stuff?"

"Oh no, we lost her. She's gonna become a nerd," Angel dryly commented as Husk took another swig.

"Oh yeah? I bet you're going like some factions. There's so much lore and stories behind each group on how they came to be. There's a faction for everyone!" Brief replied, smiling brightly.

Angel laughed. "Ha! Oh yeah, y'got some deets on these losers?" He asked. "Enlighten me, ginge."

"Oh, tons!" Brief said, holding up his hands as he 'framed' the story. "Okay, so, it's the 41st Millenium. See, over ten thousand years before the game takes place, this super-powerful psychic guy – psychics are a thing in this setting, by the way – united Humanity into the Imperium of Man with him as the Emperor. Things were going great, but then the Gods of Chaos – basically a bunch of Hell-gods, I'll get to them in a sec – managed to turn many of the Emperor's sons against him and…"

[Much, much later…]

"…So, you see, over here we have the aforementioned Eldar, or Aeldari," said Brief, pointing to a whiteboard laden with the various factions and their descriptions. "They used to more or less run the galaxy until the sheer scale of their debauchery birthed a new Chaos God, Slaanesh, who we discussed earlier, over here. Now, this was over ten thousand years ago and the psychic birth was so violent–"

"Holy fuck!" Angel exclaimed, snapping his many fingers and pointing. "Th' Eye a' Terror! They made it!" Brief smirked and tapped his nose, prompting Angel to cackle, slapping his knee. "They literally fucked a hole into Hell! Haw!"

"I see a lot of humans topside got way too much time on their hands." Husk rolled his eyes. "Then again, not having to worry about duck and cover or Commies can do that to ya."

"Pretty much, yeah. And Angel, you're exactly right!" Brief exclaimed as he smiled towards the Spider Demon. "So, the Eldar are the smallest faction because most of them died upon Slaanesh' birth. They then split into two factions, the Eldar," said Brief, drawing a pointy-eared stickman, tapping it. "They want to return to glory. And the Dark Eldar…" He drew another stick elf, this time with pointy teeth and what appeared to be spiked shoulder pads. "They commit every heinous, egregious act under the sun just so they can avoid getting their souls eaten by their new God."

"Allllright! That seals it!" Angel said, pointing at the spikey stick-elf. "I'm playin' those crazy fuckers!" He smirked at Brief. "Ya know kid, guess you were right."

"You would," Husk said, rolling his eyes, turning back to Brief. "That said…" he shrugged. "Those Orkz sound aaaa…" he looked to the side. "Okay. I guess. At least they're havin' fun."

"So you… want to play, too, Mr. Husk?" Brief asked, hopefully.

The sphinx quirked an eyebrow and scoffed. "Got nothin' better to do tonight. 'Sides, this game involves dice rollin, yeah?" He gave a ghost of a smile as he took another swig. "Should work my rolling wrist here and there, can't let it get too rusty." He blinked and narrowed his eyes and pointed a claw at Brief. "You're still in my black book, though."

"I can help gettin' yer wrist in shape~" Angel cooed, and Husk sighed loudly and took another chug.

"Dibs on Tyranids!" Niffty exclaimed, waving her hands in the air as she stood on her chair. "Dibs dibs dibs! To beat the bug, one must think like the bug! Become the bug!"

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Charlie cried, shooting to her feet and pointing to the folding tables on the far side of the room. "Let's play! Oh, wait! We need our armies, first! To the arts and crafts station!"

"Fuck yeah!" Angel said, getting to his feet. "I'm gonna give my freaky sweatgoblins huge boners! Power boners! Dildo Spears! Condom Nets! Oh man this gonna be the fucking TITS!"

"That's a great idea, Charlie!" Brief said, smiling as he followed the assorted demons over to the tables. "Who are you gonna play?"

"The Tau!" She chirped, pumping her fist. "Fighting for the Greater Good!"

"Ugh…" Brief cringed, rallying quickly and clearing his throat. "That's, uh, very you. Oh, hey, is that Ms. Vaggie?"

Charlie turned around, beaming as her girlfriend walked in. "Ooh! She must be done with her admin work! Brief, get everyone started on their figurines, I'll be right back!"

Vaggie eyed up her girlfriend as she practically skipped over, glancing over at the assorted reprobates as they set upon the arts and crafts station. "Things seem to be going well here."

"So well!" Charlie gushed, hopping up and down. "Brief's going to show us this fun little game he plays! You should join in!"

"Uh…" Vaggie glanced over at the whiteboard, every square inch of it covered in text, crude renditions of various beings, and an interminable thicket of arrows and lines indicating connection. "Looks… fun?"

"Oh, it will be!" Charlie said, grabbing her hand. "Come on, I'll tell you which faction's which and–"

"Sorry babe, I'd love to," said Vaggie, gesturing at the thick folder under her arm. "First I gotta finish up the funds spreadsheet."

"Oh, that can wait!" Charlie said, blowing a raspberry. "Between me and Alastor, the Hotel doesn't need to worry about money!"

"Still…" Vaggie began to say, stopping when Charlie shot her a big, red-eyed puppy-dog gaze. "Charlie… Don't."

The lips began to quiver.

"Ugh. Fine! I guess Al can handle the funds this month. Actually, where is that shadowy prick? I figured he'd be sticking to that kid like stink on shit."

"Dunno! He said he had some 'business to attend to'," Charlie said, shrugging and dragging her girlfriend over to the crafts station. "Wherever he is, I bet he's not having as much fun as we're going to~!"

(X)

Alastor stepped back, hands folded neatly behind his back as he dodged a haymaker from Ignatius Rock, his fists crested in glittering diamond knuckledusters, deftly bobbing and weaving around his follow-up strikes. The craggy Overlord growled, flame and smoke issuing from the seams in his body like a furious coalfire, extruding a long whip of molten steel from his palm.

"Hold still, halfbreed!" Ignatius snarled, lashing out with the orange-red tendril. "Didn't your miscegenating lout of a father teach you to fight like a gentleman!?"

"Like fights like, Iggy," Alastor said, holding up his cane, the molten whip wrapping around its shaft. With a casual yank, Alastor hauled the bulkier Sinner off his feet, hurtling through the air towards him. Alastor turned away from and reached up, brushing slag off his shoulder as an inky black tendril streaked out from the shadows, swatting Ignatius out of the air like a fly, sending him smashing into an abandoned car across the street, crumpling it like a beer can. "If I ever find a gentleman, I'd be happy to dust up."

R.A. Rock snarled, lashing out with a long, toothy tongue. Alastor smirked, sidestepping it and grabbing it with a shadow-tentacle. "Tongue? Gracious, Bobby, what kind of a harlot do you think I am? Buy me dinner first."

R. smirked around his extended tongue, the teeth on it near Alastor flexing before firing streams of yellow-green venom. The Radio Demon sneered as he barely dodged the streams, a single drop landing on his lapel, eating a hole through the fabric in an instant.

He looked down at it, eyes widening for a moment.

"My suit…"

Then the air got heavy.

Alastor's ear twitched, glowering at the lizard demon. "I'll make boots out of you for that."

The chundering of engines and the whine of propellers drew his attention down the street. Clattering towards the Radio Demon were a dozen mechanical scorpions, girder-framed automata, and crude aircraft, all spewing thick, toxic smoke. Behind them was Cornelius Rock, his torso split open to reveal immense crushing, shearing metal jaws, lit from within by white orange glow of a blast furnace. He hurriedly fed an entire car into the maw, teeth shredding and crushing the rapidly melting metal. His smoke-stacks belched ash and fire as his back opened up, spitting out all manner of crude, anachronistic machines. One of the scuttling mechanical scorpions raised its tail, a spout in place of a stinger, and unleashed a torrent of flaming, motel steel. Alastor blocked the attack with a thick tendril, only for the steel to rapidly cool around it, freezing it in place.

"Busting out your toys, Corny?" Alastor called out, releasing R. swat away the whistling bombs dropped by the planes, backdropping the shadowy demon with fire and smoke, eyes glowing. "Two can play that game!"

Alastor's eyes went black, his red radio dial pupils flaring to life as his shadow expanded out from under his feet. The shapes of various nightmarish creatures sprang from the darkness, coalescing into impish demonic dolls, gaunt, skeletal stags, and razor-winged ravens. The constructs rushed into action, meeting Cornelius' forces with vicious glee.

The battle raged, with the Rocks dodging swiping tentacles as Cornelius' machines did battle with the chattering shadow-constructs. Up the street a figure strode forward, his form wreathed in golden fire as he held up his ophidian staff.

"ENOUGH!" Rahk Sagkal bellowed, his voice like the roar of a lion by way of a thunderbolt, bringing the pommel of his staff down on the ground with tectonic force.

A wave of golden light flared out from the staff, razing the shadow-creatures and blowing them away like smoke in the wind. The shockwave hit Alastor like a tsunami, almost knocking the Shadow Buck of Vodun off his feet, sending him skidding backwards on his heels.

Alastor glanced around at his burning, slowly regenerating shadows and up at the advancing Rocks. "…Show off."

"Cease this folly, Alastor," Rahk commanded, leveling his staff at him. "This is no mere sparring match, we have business with the Princess. Let us pass or suffer the consequences."

"Perhaps I know more than you think, Rocky," Alastor sneered, his form crackling with green lightning. "If your pimp has business up the street with the Princess, he'd do well to take care of it himself. Sending his junkyard dogs to play fetch from fellow Royalty is uncouth, even for him."

Rahk's eyes narrowed, glowing red and orange. "…What do you know of our business?"

"More than you'd want, but less than I'd like," said Alastor, setting off towards them at a leisurely pace, twirling his cane. "Why don't you make like the good little dogs that you are and speak: why does Ozzie want the Key?"

The Rocks flinched collectively, exchanging nervous glances.

Alastor clapped his hand to his face and cackled. "Oh ho ho ho ho! How droll! You fools actually thought you were being subtle? Every Overlord worth their salt in Hell knows full well who's holding your leash. When the Rocks get rollin', it's because the King Cock crowed! If this is what passes for discretion on the Lust Ring, why, it's a small wonder Ozzie hasn't been paid a visit from the Bossman before now."

"What do you know of the Key?!" R. , scaly hands balling into fists. "Who told you about my Grandson?!"

"A gentleman never kisses and tells, Bobby," said Alastor, examining his talons, polishing them on his lapel. "Now, are you going to tell me what that strutting, pompous pervert is up to, or do I have to start playing rough?"

R.A. hissed and unhinged his jaw, unleashing a torrent of acidic venom, engulfing the Radio Demon completely in a whirling, corrosive maelstrom, liquifying pavement, concrete, the sand and stone beneath, all violently and explosively disassociated at the molecular level, creating a self-perpetuating storm of smoke and toxic gas.

Ignatius held out his hands, the light pulsing from the cracks in his body flashing from orange to white-hot. His diamonoid talons shot from his fingertips at hypersonic speeds, regrowing and firing again, hundreds of times a second from each digit, turning the whirling dome of acidic vapor and volatile smoke into a roaring inferno from sheer kinetic force.

Cornelius stepped forward, panels on his calves and forearms opening to reveal pneumatic pile-bunkers. The factory demon leaned forward as though to sprint, his jaw unhinging as his torso reassembled itself into the huge bore of a cannon, its rifled barrel glowing orange-white as he marshaled energy. The pile-bunkers activated with a roaring hiss, the spikes burying themselves into the pavement, anchoring him in place and, with a thunderous roar that shattered windows for blocks around, opened fire. A 16" shell composed of molten metal and hellfire impacted the cloud of blazing acid, blasting it apart in a titanic explosion that collapsed the buildings bracketing the street.

"Did…" R.A. ventured, his arm raised to shield his eyes, scouring the smoldering crater for remains. "Did we get him?"

"I was hitting something in there," said Ignatius, holding his fire but at attention. "There's no way he could have dodged. Not at that range."

"You both definitely did. Even if he managed to teleport away, he'd be in no shape to resume the fight," Cornelius asserted as he reassembled himself, turning to Rahk. "Do you sense anything, Grandsire?"

"No. I detect no essence in the–" His staff vibrated, eyes glowing. "LOOK OUT!"

Four vantablack tendrils shot out from the column of smoke rising from the crater, sparking with green crackles of power. The Rocks scattered, leaping out of the way as the tentacles smashed into the ground. A huge, spindly arm lurched out of the smoke, setting down on the street, crushing an abandoned car, its gas tank exploding in a low, thudding explosion. Another arm smashed down as an immense figure rose from the crater, blazing red-within-black eyes set above a yellow lunette of fangs set in a rictus stitched up grin. The seventy-foot tall demon towered over them, the air around him shimmering with wind-dings and flaring static.

"O̴h̵,̸ ̶d̵o̸ ̵g̵o̴ ̴o̸n̶,̶ ̶p̸l̴e̴a̶,s̸e̴" the looming horror crooned, his voice rasping against the Souls of his enemies. "O̴h̵?̴ ̶Y̴o̸u̸ ̵w̵e̸r̷e̵ ̸d̵o̵n̴e̷?̸ ̶W̸e̴l̶l̸,̴ ̶t̴h̴e̵n̶,̵ ̸a̷l̸l̷o̴w̴ ̸m̵e̸ ̴t̴o̸ ̸r̴e̵t̷o̵r̶t̴.̶"

"What?! How'd he–URK!" R.A. croaked as a tentacle snapped out, wrapping around his ankle before coiling around his body like a python. "Shit!"

R.A. opened his mouth and fired another blast of acid, the corrosive liquid splashing across the shadowy tentacle's blacker-than-black skin with no discernible effect. Indeed, the venom sank into its surface, absorbed like a sponge.

"O̶a̸k̸y̵,̴ ̶w̶i̶t̸h̶ ̶a̶ ̷d̶e̵l̵i̶c̸a̷t̶e̸ ̸c̵h̴e̷r̸r̵y̵ ̵f̶i̶n̸i̶s̶h̷.̵ ̷D̵e̷l̵e̴c̶t̸a̴b̷l̷e̷,̶" Alastor crooned."̸Y̵o̴u̵ ̸s̴h̵o̴u̵l̴d̴ ̶r̴e̸a̶l̶l̶y̷ ̶t̴r̸y̶ ̷s̶o̸m̷e̶!̷"
Hundreds of thorns sprouted from all over the tentacle's surface, causing R.A. Rock to cry out as dozens dug into his flesh. The spines dripped an unctuous yellow-green substance from their tips and R.A.'s cries became high, melodious screams as his own venom coursed through his veins. The lizard demon's face sagged, crumpled, his flesh bubbling and running like melting wax as hot gasses surged from his mouth, nose, ears and, eventually, eyes, all bubbling and running as he liquified.

"L̴i̴g̷h̷t̶w̸e̵i̴g̵h̷t̸.̴ ̷A̷h̴ ̴w̴e̸l̸l̸,̵ ̵y̴o̶u̴ ̴k̵n̶o̴w̷ ̸w̵h̸a̴t̴ ̵t̸h̷e̵y̵ ̵s̵a̷y̶" Alastor mused as R.A.'s remains literally dripped out of his grasp. "D̸o̶n̴'̵t̷ ̵g̵e̷t̴ ̵h̴i̷g̴h̴ ̴o̴n̸ ̶y̷o̴u̸r̷ ̴o̸w̸n̶ ̷s̷u̷p̶p̷l̷y̸"

"Robert!" Ignatius roared, aiming his talon-cannons at the giant demon. "Fucking quadroon bastard!"

The horror's smile widened, somehow. "L̶a̷n̸g̷u̴a̵g̶e̴,̵ ̶I̴g̸g̸y̴.̵"

With a gesture, a half-dozen black vermiform limbs sprouted up from the ground around the craggy coal-demon, wrapping around his struggling form as he was hauled into the air. The abyssal tendrils wove into one another, completely encapsulating Ignatius, forming a rough sphere of writhing, undulating coils.

"Y̸o̵u̸ ̵a̵l̴w̷a̴y̸s̵ ̸w̴e̴r̵e̴ ̵a̶ ̸h̸o̶t̷-̵h̶e̷a̵d̵,̶ ̶I̵g̷g̶y̸" said Alastor, raising his hand, palm open and fingers splayed. "Y̵o̴u̸'̴d̸ ̵t̷h̶i̷n̵k̵ ̷a̶ ̶s̷o̶-̶c̷a̸l̴l̴e̶d̵ ̷g̶e̸n̷t̶l̷e̷m̷a̸n̶ ̶w̵o̶u̵l̶d̵ ̶s̷h̵o̴w̸ ̶s̵o̶m̵e̸ ̸g̵r̴a̷c̷e̶…̷ ̴u̸n̵d̸e̶r̴ ̵p̸r̸e̵s̴s̵u̵r̸e̷.̷"

His hand snapped shut into a fist with a thunderclap, the bundle of coils flexed before imploding to a tenth of its size in an instant, heat and light flashing out from between the layered tentacles. The ball loosened, the tentacles unwove, and out dropped a smoking, glowing diamond, rough and uncut and the size of a basketball, sending it clattering across the pavement.

"T̶a̸l̶k̶ ̴a̶b̵o̴u̴t̸ ̶m̷a̸k̸i̵n̸g̸ ̷a̵ ̸s̷i̴l̶k̸ ̷p̴u̵r̸s̴e̷ ̵o̷u̴t̶ ̷o̷f̴ ̴a̵ ̷s̶o̴w̶'̶s̴ ̸e̶a̷r̴!̸ ̷H̷o̸ ̴h̵o̷ ̴h̷o̸!̴ ̶H̵m̴m̸?̸" Alastor turned to look at Cornelius, his eyes wide in his pale, riveted face, the smoke chundering from his stacks stark white. "R̷u̷n̸.̷"

Cornelius whimpered and made good on the suggestion, scrambling down the street and away from the abomination. Cornelius streaked by Rahk, who made no indication of registering his presence or, indeed, the horrors that had transpired, simply locking the Radio Demon with a baleful glare.

"Weakling."

Rahk angled his staff, that its snakelike head was canted over his shoulder. The head came alive, its cold, glassy eyes glowing white-blue as its hood flared, mouth opening to reveal a pinprick of light, firing it at its master's wayward descendent. The pinprick streaked towards Cornelius, impacting him in the back with little to no effect beyond a brief shimmer of light rippling over his body. Before Cornelius took another step, every bolt and rivet in his body burst outwards propelled by a flash of light, shredding his surroundings like shrapnel. The dieselpunk demon didn't even have time to scream before his body disintegrated into a humanoid collection of loose metal plates and black, tarry ichor, clattering and splattering along the ground out of his expensive three-piece suit.

"O̵h̶ ̶h̵o̶ ̷h̵o̶ ̷h̴o̷!̸!̷ ̶B̷r̶a̴v̵o̸!̵ ̴H̸a̵ ̸h̶a̷ ̴h̷a̵!̸" Alastor cackled in a booming voice, clapping his hands. "N̸o̸w̸ ̶t̴h̶a̵t̵'̶s̷ ̷w̵h̴a̵t̸ ̸I̴ ̸c̶a̶l̸l̵ ̵s̶h̵o̸w̸m̷a̸n̴s̵h̵i̴p̴!̴ ̵I̷ ̵a̸l̶w̴a̵y̵s̵ ̷l̸i̶k̴e̷d̸ ̷y̸o̵u̶,̸ ̴R̸o̸c̴k̸y̵.̷"

"As I you, Alastor," said Rahk, holding out his staff. "Despite your wanton behavior, I always saw something of myself in you. We're not so different…"

"O̴h̷,̴ ̴h̷e̸r̸e̷ ̴w̴e̴ ̷g̸o̵!̸" Alastor grumbled. "L̵e̷t̴ ̶m̷e̵ ̸g̴u̷e̶s̷s̸.̵ ̶Y̸o̴u̴ ̵s̶e̷e̶ ̷i̵n̸ ̵m̶e̶ ̴a̸ ̴f̸e̷l̴l̵o̷w̶ ̵l̴a̶c̶k̷y̸,̵ ̷a̸ ̵j̷u̶n̸k̵y̸a̷r̵d̵ ̶d̸o̴g̷ ̷c̵h̴a̶i̷n̷e̴d̴ ̴t̵o̷ ̴t̷h̶e̴ ̵w̴h̶i̵m̷s̵ ̶o̸f̵ ̸a̴ ̵p̶o̷w̸e̶r̸f̶u̷l̷ ̵m̸a̴s̶t̴e̷r̴,̸ ̴s̴t̶r̸i̴p̷p̷e̸d̵ ̷o̷f̵ ̸a̶g̵e̶n̴c̷y̷.̶ ̶

W̸e̸l̵l̶,̶ ̷w̷h̵e̵r̷e̷a̷s̷ ̷y̸o̸u̷ ̸w̶a̵g̴ ̸y̴o̴u̷r̸ ̷t̶a̷i̴l̴ ̷a̵n̶d̴ ̸j̴u̵m̴p̶ ̵t̶h̵r̶o̸u̴g̶h̵ ̶y̸o̷u̴r̴ ̷m̶a̵s̶t̶e̴r̷'̶s̸ ̷h̶o̴o̴p̸s̶,̴ ̵I̵ ̶s̸e̶e̵k̴ ̷f̵r̴e̶e̵d̷o̴m̸,̷ ̷t̴o̴ ̸l̸o̷s̸e̷ ̵t̸h̴e̴ ̵c̷o̵l̵l̸a̵r̴ ̸a̶r̸o̵u̵n̴d̴ ̸m̷y̶ ̶n̸e̶c̸k̴!̵ ̵" The deer demon mused, before looking back, smile ever present but he glared back.

Y̸o̵u̸ ̷s̶p̵e̶a̴k̷ ̴o̷f̵ ̵t̴a̵k̷i̴n̶g̷ ̷b̶a̸c̵k̷ ̵w̴h̷a̸t̸'̶s̶ ̵y̴o̷u̷r̶s̷,̶ ̵R̶o̴c̶k̸y̵,̴ ̶b̶u̶t̴ ̷y̷o̸u̷'̷r̵e̶ ̸j̵u̵s̶t̴ ̴f̶e̴t̸c̸h̷i̵n̸g̵ ̶a̴ ̵b̵o̸n̶e!̷ ̶W̵e̸ ̵a̴r̶e̴ ̶n̵o̶t̵h̶i̸n̵g̴ ̴a̴l̶i̸k̶e̶!̵"

"Hmph. That was… enlightening," said Rahk, smirking as his staff glowed. "I was more referring to your skills. That form of yours is indeed powerful, but hardly unique."

The elder demon vanished in a towering, shimmering pillar of light, shaking the surrounding city as it punched upwards into the sky. A pair of huge, glowing wings burst from the column of light, followed by a huge clawed lion's paw, and then another, and another, each one setting down with seismic force. A writhing serpent writhed in the air, rearing up and hissing ferociously, a living tail attached to the massive winged leonine body. Rahk reared up, his humanoid head sprouting up from the furred, muscular neck of a great cat, glowing gold energy exuding from his eyes, his staff inlaid in his proud regal crown. The two gigantic demons stood opposite one another, their mighty auras flaring and clashing with thunderclaps of power.

Rahk smiled, his mouth filled with huge fangs. "S̷e̸e̶?̸ ̸I̸ ̶c̶a̷n̷ ̶d̷o̴ ̶i̶t̷,̴ ̶t̶o̴o̵."

"H̶̨̀̊a̴͍͕͋͘ ̵̥͛h̴̰͗͛a̷̺̽͗ ̶̧̃̊h̷̙̜̎͑a̶̪̿…̵̓̂͜" Alastor chuckled, talons flexing as his tentacles reared up, ready to strike. ̷"̴U̴h̵-̸o̵h̷."

(X)

Corset cowered behind a dumpster, the ground itself shaking as the giants clashed, smashing one another into buildings, Rahk's tail blasting Alastor's shadow tentacles with a blast of arcane fire. The air itself became heavy and electrified as their auras burned against one another.

'You know, with the benefit of hindsight…' Corset thought to himself as the dumpster jumped from the street as Rahk tackled Alastor into a department store. 'This was a shit fucking idea!'

Corset yelped and scrambled away, seconds later a ruined truck smashed into the alley, crushing the dumpster like a beercan. The incubus panted raggedly as he sprinted away, ribbons of energy and dark magic crackling through the air behind him, heedlessly discharged during the titanic clash, carving molten gouges into brick walls and asphalt. Corset's heels skidded on the pavement as he ducked into an adjoining alley, narrowly avoiding yet another thrown vehicle.

'I knew Alastor was hanging around that stupid hotel, but just as a lark!' Corset thought as he ran. 'Like watching a trainwreck or a bum fight! I didn't think he'd actually stick upfor the fucking place! This is bad! Really bad! I should just–' Corset glanced up and yelped, skidding to a stop just as a huge neon sign slammed down in the adjoining street, arms raised as he was showered with broken glass and debris. 'This is nuts! How're we supposed to get that brat with Alastor in the way?! Between him and Charlotte, Ozzie himself would have to get involved! I should just run. Just change my name, change my face, and reinvent myself! Ozzie has bigger things to worry about now, right? …I'm so screwed.'

He turned around to see Rahk, his paws on Alastor's back, ripping off one of his tentacles with his jaws. The Radio Demon snarled, his head spinning about on his shoulders like an owl, a stream of foul, vantablack gas surging from his mouth, causing the giant lion-demon to recoil with a bellowing roar.

'So screwed! Doomed! Thoroughly and comprehensively fucked!' Corset lamented as the titans clashed. 'Hard locked! Foreclosed! I might as well just walk out there and get squished!'

He was against a wall, hands on his rictus face as he moaned in despair. "If Ozzie gets a hold of me after this… the only place I'd be safe would be that damned Hotel! Ha-ha! Maybe I should sign up and redeem myself! Pssh! As if… that…"

Wait.

Corset paused, a spark of inspiration flashing within him. "Ah? Ah-ha… why get killed trying to kick down the door when one could walk right in on a red carpet? Discretion is the better part of valour after all!" He snapped his fingers, grinning in delight. "Corset, you're a genius!"

[X]

Alastor grunted as a powerful wingbeat summoned a hurricane gust, knocking him backwards into a gas station which erupted into a towering fireball with an explosive 'whump'. The Radio Demon strode out of the flames quite unscathed, snarling in fury at the gigantic Chimera roaring a challenge to him.

'I knew Rahk was a tough customer, but he really is a cut above the pampered pets that came after him,' Alastor thought to himself. 'If I knew I'd be working up a sweat today, I wouldn't have skipped breakfast! Ha-ha-ha!'

"Y̷o̸u̴ ̷k̵n̸o̸w̵ ̶y̶o̵u̵ ̷c̷a̴n̶n̴o̸t̴ ̷d̷e̷f̵e̸a̷t̸ ̷m̶e̸,̵ ̶A̴l̴a̸s̷t̷o̸r̷" said Rahk, his voice the booming rumble of a thunderhead. "Y̷o̵u̵r̵ ̵p̵o̶w̴e̷r̵s̸ ̶a̶r̷e̴ ̴i̵n̶d̶e̸e̵d̷ ̸i̷m̸p̶r̴e̴s̵s̵i̶v̷e̶,̴ ̸b̵u̷t̴ ̸I̶ ̵h̸a̷v̵e̴ ̵b̸e̴e̸n̸ ̷b̴l̷e̵s̸s̷e̶d̶ ̵w̴i̴t̷h̷ ̷t̴h̸e̵ ̶f̸a̷v̶o̵r̶ ̸o̶f̷ ̸K̷i̸n̵g̵ ̴A̸s̴m̶o̶d̸e̷u̵s̶ ̷h̵i̶m̷s̸e̶l̷f̶!̶

̴I̷ ̶h̶a̸v̵e̴ ̶b̴e̵e̶n̸ ̸f̴i̷g̷h̸t̵i̷n̵g̴ ̶i̷n̸ ̵h̵i̴s̵ ̶n̴a̶m̸e̵ ̵f̷o̷r̷ ̴o̷v̴e̶r̶ ̶s̴i̶x̶ ̸m̴i̴l̵l̵e̷n̶n̶i̸a̶!̴

̶I̴ ̷a̷m̴ ̵y̶o̶u̷r̵ ̷b̴e̸t̷t̷e̷r̵ ̶i̵n̴ ̷s̸k̵i̵l̵l̷ ̶a̸n̸d̴ ̵p̵o̸t̶e̴n̸c̸y̸ ̴b̴o̵t̸h̸!̴"

"F̵i̵n̷d̴i̶n̸g̵ ̷i̵t̸ ̴h̶a̷r̸d̷ ̶t̶o̵ ̸a̸r̵g̷u̸e̸ ̷w̶i̸t̸h̵ ̵y̴o̸u̵ ̶o̷n̵ ̵t̵h̸a̸t̸ ̵f̷r̵o̵n̷t̸,̸ ̷R̶o̸c̷k̶y̷" Alastor conceded, hands folded behind his back as he strode out of the flaming wreckage, tentacles dusting off his increasingly tattered suit, another reaching down and plucking the immense diamond that used to be Ignatius Rock, the huge demon tossing it up and down like a boy with a pebble. "B̵u̶t̵ ̷t̴h̴e̸n̸,̷ ̸t̶h̷a̶t̸'̶s̵ ̵u̴l̵t̸i̷m̷a̵t̵e̷l̶y̴ ̵t̵h̶e̸ ̵d̷o̶w̴n̸f̷a̷l̷l̴ ̶o̶f̶ ̷w̴a̵r̵r̶i̶o̸r̵s̸ ̸s̷u̵c̸h̴ ̵a̴s̷ ̷y̷o̸u̷r̴s̷e̵l̶f̴:̶ ̴s̷t̴a̶g̶n̶a̷n̶c̶y̷"

"E̴n̷o̶u̶g̷h̷ ̸o̶f̸ ̵t̵h̷i̶s̶,̶" growled Rahk, streaking forward, claws extended, razing light blazing from behind his fangs, his staff, embedded in his crown, glowed like a star as he channeled his might. "P̴E̷R̴I̶S̵H̶!̴!̶"

Alastor simply smiled, tossing the basketball sized diamond straight up as he braced. He caught Rahk's paws with his hands, the impact sending a visible shockwave tearing through the neighborhood. The Overlords stood, pressing against one another with body and aura, the air crackling and burning as their energies clashed and sparred. The thunder and harsh whines and shrieks of radio screaming out and scorching the ground below.

"Y̸o̷u̵r̶ ̴p̸o̵w̴e̴r̵ ̵i̶s̷ ̵w̸a̷n̶i̵n̶g̴,̸ ̶R̵a̴d̶i̴o̷ ̸D̵e̵m̷o̷n̶,̶" Rahk growled, slowly but surely bearing down on his foe. "W̵h̸e̵r̷e̷a̸s̷ ̵I̷ ̵h̵a̶v̶e̷ ̸o̵n̶l̵y̷ ̶b̶e̸g̶u̷n̵ ̷t̷o̸ ̶h̴i̵t̵ ̶m̵y̵ ̸s̴t̸r̷i̴d̶e̵.̸ ̷

F̸o̸r̶ ̵y̸o̴u̵r̸ ̸a̷r̷r̶o̵g̷a̴n̸c̴e̷ ̴a̵n̷d̵ ̷d̶e̴f̴i̴a̷n̴c̵e̷,̷ ̶I̷ ̷w̵i̵l̸l̷ ̷t̴e̷a̶r̴ ̷y̷o̷u̶ ̶a̶p̵a̷r̴t̶,̵ ̶p̴i̸e̵c̴e̷ ̷b̶y̵ ̶p̶i̶e̶c̴e̴,̸ ̴t̷e̸l̶e̵v̵i̷s̴e̴d̶.̵ ̴

H̷e̶l̴l̷ ̵w̴i̸l̶l̷ ̸s̶e̶e̸ ̴w̶h̷a̶t̷ ̵i̷t̴ ̷m̶e̶a̷n̶s̵ ̴t̷o̸ ̸s̶t̷a̵n̶d̷ ̸a̴g̶a̷i̸n̴s̷t̷ ̴t̵h̵e̵ ̸R̶o̷c̶k d̶y̸n̴a̷s̶t̷y̸!"

"R̷o̸c̷k̴y̷,̵ ̶R̵o̸c̶k̶y̵,̶ ̷R̷o̵c̴k̴y̴.̶ ̵Y̷o̵u̸'̸d̶ ̶c̵l̸u̷t̶t̸e̷r̸ ̷u̸p̸ ̸t̶h̶e̵ ̵a̶i̴r̴w̵a̴v̸e̴s̴ ̶w̵i̵t̵h̵ ̷s̸u̷c̶h̶ ̶d̶r̵i̶v̴e̷l̷ ̵j̶u̷s̸t̶ ̵t̷o̶ ̵p̴r̷o̶v̵e̵ ̸a̶ ̶p̸o̵i̷n̸t̵?̷" Alastor chuckled, radio-dial eyes flickering as he plumbed the depths of his power to hold out just a little longer. "Y̷o̵u̸'̸r̴e̵ ̴p̸o̸w̷e̶r̸f̴u̶l̶ ̷a̷n̵d̸ ̷s̵k̷i̸l̷l̷e̸d̷,̸ ̷s̴u̵r̷e̶,̷ ̴b̸u̶t̷ ̷s̸o̸ ̵w̶h̶a̴t̴?̷

̶E̵v̵e̷r̷y̶ ̶p̶r̵o̵b̷l̸e̷m̴,̸ ̵e̸v̷e̷r̴y̵ ̵c̸o̷n̷f̷l̶i̴c̴t̷,̵ ̸t̸h̷e̴ ̴s̸o̵l̵u̴t̶i̷o̸n̷'̵s̶ ̶a̸l̷w̷a̶y̶s̴ ̷t̴h̷e̷ ̷s̴a̷m̵e̷:̵ ̴s̸c̸r̵e̷a̷m̷,̸ ̸p̷o̷w̶e̸r̸ ̵u̶p̵,̸ ̶a̵n̷d̷ ̵p̸u̶n̷c̶h̷ ̷i̶t̶ ̶u̵n̸t̴i̶l̷ ̵i̷t̷ ̷g̷o̴e̷s̸ ̶a̷w̶a̸y̵.̶ ̷!

T̸r̸i̶t̵e̴!̷ ̵S̸t̴a̷l̸e̸!̵ ̵B̵o̷r̵i̴n̷g̶!̸

̵N̷o̶,̵ ̵a̵ ̴t̷r̷u̶e̷ ̷s̴h̵o̸w̶m̶a̸n̵ ̶k̵n̸o̴w̵s̴ ̴w̶h̶e̴n̴ ̶t̵o̵ ̶p̸u̵t̵ ̵t̴h̶e̸ ̴f̸l̷a̷s̵h̵ ̶a̵n̴d̴ ̸p̵i̸z̸a̷z̴z̷ ̷t̵o̸ ̷b̷e̵d̶ ̶a̴n̵d̸ ̸r̴e̵l̴y̸ ̷o̷n̴ ̴t̸h̵e̸ ̵u̸l̴t̸i̵m̷a̵t̷e̴ ̴t̴e̶c̴h̴n̴i̶q̴u̶e̷ ̸i̸n̷ ̸s̵h̵o̷w̷b̷i̸z̸!̷"

"C̴e̸a̷s̶e̸ ̷y̵o̷u̷r̴ ̵p̴r̶a̴t̸t̶l̷e̸,̸ ̵y̶o̵u̷ ̷s̸i̴m̶p̶e̶r̵i̶n̷g̸–!" Rahk began to say when a inky black tentacle shot up from the shadow they were casting, coquettishly notching under his bearded chin and craning his head upwards. "W̷h̸a̴t̸ ̷a̵r̵e̸ ̴y̶o̵u̶–?"

"A̴n̸d̶ ̷t̴h̴a̷t̸ ̷t̶e̸c̵h̵n̶i̷q̷u̵e̶ ̵i̶s̷…" From on high came a gleaming shape, a diamond the size of a basketball, 24kgs of crystallized carbon, the hardest natural substance on earth, streaked down like a meteor, smashing into the center of Rahk's crown, onto his staff, snapping it in half. "…I̸m̶p̵r̵o̵v̷.̴"

Rahk howled in agony as ribbons of light and energy burst forth from the sundered artifact, a flood of demonic essence and power unleashed in an uncontrollable surge. Bright white light drowned out the surroundings, filling every nook and cranny, scouring even the notion of shadows from the immediate area. When the starburst finally died down, the seared, heaving form of Rahk Sagkal knelt on the street, restored to his true body, cradling his broken staff in his hands.

"Wh-what…" He croaked, looking up as Alastor's staff set down in front of him with a crackle of static. "What have you done?!"

"Offhand, I'd say I've spared myself from witnessing a bout of tedious family drama," said Alastor, pithily, polishing his talons on his lapel. "Were that my tastes, I'd just watch reruns of Maury Povich."

"You… you must know you cannot win," snarled Rahk, bearing his teeth as the Wendigo of Hell loomed over him. "My King will have his Key, the Gate will be opened, and Heaven will fall!"

"Threaten me with a good time, Rocky," Alastor crooned, his limbs and body elongating grotesquely as his antlers grew into an Eldritch bramble of shadows. "Now, this spirited spat of ours has made me a touch peckish. Surely you won't mind if I help myself to a little snack…"

[X]

Corset peered out onto the street from the alley. The battle was over, the deserted, shattered neighborhood peaceful once more. Who had won? As if to answer his question, Rahk's shattered staff clattered to the ground in front of him, causing him to yelp and spin around. Looming over him was the tall, only somewhat tattered frame of Alastor, his eyes glowing red above a yellowed crescent moon of fangs, a bloody toothpick set in the corner of his mouth.

Corset, eyes wide in his pale blue face, opened his mouth to speak only to have Alastor place a talon over his thin, stretched lips. "Hush now. I'm not going to harm you, incubus. I would like for you to deliver a little message to Chanticlaire: the score's now 1:0 in this little game. He's going to have to do better if he wants his trinket back."

Corset looked down at the shattered staff, out at the remains of the Rocks strewn about the street, and then turned back. "My King will–"

The Radio Demon was nowhere to be seen. Corset spat a curse under his breath and set about picking up the pieces of the staff before heading out to gather the rest of them. Terrifying as this experience had been, he felt exaltant. After the humiliating defeat of the Rocks, Ozzie would have no choice but to turn to him, loyal Corset, dedicated Corset, Corset who had a plan to get the Key. Now that their options had been violently curtailed, he would surely give him another chance!

Surely?

'Time to polish up that ol' silver tongue of yours, Corset! You've talked your way out of tighter~ binds and bondage than this!' He thought to himself, looking down at the pile of blood and scrap metal that used to be Cornelius, and then over at the hissing, bubbling puddle that was R.A. Rock, grimacing in disgust. 'Better find a bucket, too…'

[X]

Alastor appeared in the Hotel lobby in a burst of static, humming jauntily to himself. What a fun day this turned out to be! Ozzie had made his first move and got checked like luggage. Normally, one would have to be mad to issue a challenge to a King of Hell, much less one of the Seven, but the fact that Hell's own Cock was trying to be coy with this little fetch quest confirmed two things to Alastor: Lucifer didn't know, and Ozzie would very much prefer it stayed that way.

Alastor's grin widened at the mental image of the King of Lust, seething and ironically impotent, as his lackey delivered the challenge, wanting dearly to stomp right in and make a gruesome example of the upstart, knowing he couldn't. Delicious.

"Oh, what fun this will be…" He said aloud, to no one. "Hm? Why, where's the welcoming committee? At the very least, I expected Vagatha to harangue me for my absence. Hmmm…"

He strode over to the common room: deserted.

Through the halls he strolled, spinning his cane, until he sensed their presence in the event room. "Ah-ha."

Nothing could have quite prepared him for what he saw: the denizens of the Hotel gathered around a table populated by tiny, crude figurines, each one of the demons (and Human) festoon with obscenely stylized costumes.

Charlie was wearing what appeared to be technological armor constructed from painted cardboard.

Angel was, unsurprisingly, dressed up in leather fetish gear with spikes and metal studs glued and taped to various places.

Husker, the inveterate grouch, was clad in a messy facsimile of scrap-metal armor and bulky, ramshackle prosthetics.

Niffty, the little gremlin, vibrated with excitement within articulated carapace straight out of H.R. Giger's nightmares.

Even Vagatha seemed to be getting in on the fun, wearing graceful flowing cloaks of gossamer, pointy plasticine ears affixed to her own, her hair done up in a single upward ponytail.

Last but not least was Brief, his svelte, nerdy frame practically swallowed whole by a bulging breastplate and two ridiculously oversized blue pauldrons, all painted blue and affixed with an inverted Ω.

"My my my…" Alastor crooned, prompting them all to turn and look at him. "Whatever are you fools up to?"

"Alastor?" Charlie said, muffled by her cardboard helmet, taking it off and looking him up and down. "Where have you been?"

Alastor chuckled, shrugging. "Oh, I just went for a walk. Clear my head. You know how it is."

"Are you alright?" Brief said, pointing nervously. "You look… singed? Is that blood?"

"I take very enthusiastic walks, my boy." Alastor appeared next to him, causing him to squeak and recoil as the demon loomed over the table. "I reiterate: whatever are you up to in here?"

"It's a game," said Charlie, smiling as she cast an arm over Brief's pauldron-clad shoulders. "It's one of Brief's hobbies and it's really fun! Want to join? Oh! There's so many cool factions!"

Alastor cocked an eyebrow, looking around at the absurd-looking costumes the boy had convinced these truculent degenerates to wear, and then down at the variety of basic figurines made from Lego-men and modeling clay. "Hm. Well, I did just get my exercise for the day. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have a sit-down. What are the rules?"

"Okay, so," Brief said, wheeling over a seriously cluttered whiteboard. "The basic premise is…"

Big thanks to Wr1teAn0n for writing this one up.

So yeah, Alastor handles the Rocks, and Brief gets the hotel in on Warhammer 40k, minus the twitter brainrot bullshittery going on these days.

Alastor was able to duke it out with the Rocks, but he had some trouble with Rahk, being a millenia old Overlord, but as said in the Pilot, Alastor was able to topple Overlords that were around for Centuries if not longer. So it stands to reason he could box with one 6 millenia old and for the most part fight evenly with him until he used his smarts and brains to outsmart him, and as shown in the battle against Adam in the show, destroy the staff, they become far weaker. That and it establishes a heirarchy in power considering Adam was the FIRST MAN and a bigwig in Heaven. Alastor is still an Overlord, who can't really even overtake the Demon Sins. Against the Goetia? I would put him at around Paimon's level of power.

But yeah, another action chapter. Hope you all enjoyed this one. Next ones should be more low key. Aoubt time we get back to Loona too. Think that's enough bageutte's IMP has toasted, right?