The warm afternoon light filtered through the stained-glass windows of the Hazbin Hotel, painting the hallway in a kaleidoscope of colors. Charlie sat cross-legged on the couch in the suite she shared with Vaggie and Emily, lazily flipping through a magazine while Emily hummed softly as she reorganized the bookshelf. Vaggie sat nearby, polishing her spear with meticulous focus.
A sharp knock echoed through the door, interrupting the peaceful scene. Charlie looked up, curious. Before anyone could respond, the door swung open with an audible creak, revealing Alastor's grinning face.
"Good afternoon, dearest Charlie!" he chimed, his tone as cheery as ever. "And to your lovely darlings as well!" His crimson eyes gleamed as he stepped inside, cane in hand, his movements as fluid and theatrical as always.
"Alastor," Vaggie said sharply, rising to her feet and gripping her spear. "You could try knocking and waiting for an answer."
"But where's the fun in that?" Alastor replied with a chuckle, ignoring her pointed glare. His gaze shifted to Charlie, who closed her magazine and arched a brow. "Now, my dear princess, I come bearing an invitation!"
Charlie tilted her head, intrigued. "An invitation? To what?"
Alastor's grin widened, his eyes glinting with mischief. "To Cannibal Town, of course!"
Emily froze mid-shelving, turning to stare at him. "I'm sorry, did you say Cannibal Town?"
"Yes, indeed!" Alastor declared, tipping his cane dramatically. "Our dear friend Rosie has been quite busy expanding her little domain since the battle, and yet… not a single visit from her closest ally? Oh, the scandal!" He pressed a hand to his chest, mockingly aghast. "It would be terribly rude to let her think you've forgotten her, don't you think?"
Charlie blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I… I didn't mean to ignore Rosie. Things have just been so crazy around here—"
Alastor cut her off with a laugh, twirling his cane. "Nonsense! The perfect remedy for chaos is a lovely outing with old friends. And what better time to reaffirm your friendship than now? After all, appearances are everything in this infernal world."
Vaggie stepped forward, her expression skeptical. "What's the real reason, Alastor? Why do you suddenly care about us visiting Rosie?"
Alastor's smile didn't waver, but his tone turned slightly more serious. "Because Rosie, for all her charm, is a creature who values loyalty above all else. She stood by us during the battle, and it would do well to remind her that we value her support. Neglect can sour even the sweetest relationships, my dear Vaggie."
Charlie exchanged a glance with Vaggie and Emily, her golden eyes thoughtful. "I guess you have a point. It's been a while since I've checked in on her."
Emily chimed in, her usual cheer tinged with nervousness. "I mean, it could be fun! But… uh… how much of the whole 'cannibal' thing are we going to have to deal with?"
Alastor chuckled, his grin sharp. "Oh, don't worry, my little Seraphim. Rosie is ever the gracious host. You won't be on the menu… unless you offend her, of course."
Emily swallowed hard, her wings twitching nervously. "Noted."
Charlie stood, smoothing her dress and nodding with determination. "Alright, we'll go. It's the least we can do after everything Rosie's done for us."
"Splendid!" Alastor said, clapping his hands together. "Shall we depart at once? The culinary delights of Cannibal Town await!"
Vaggie sighed, slinging her spear over her shoulder. "I guess we don't have a choice now, do we?"
With Alastor leading the way, his voice humming an eerie tune, the trio followed him out of the hotel, ready to face whatever awaited them in the heart of Cannibal Town.
The path to Cannibal Town twisted through the outskirts of Hell, where the sky burned a dim crimson and the air carried a faint metallic tang. Charlie strolled cheerfully, her fingers laced with Vaggie's as she swung their joined hands back and forth like a carefree child. Vaggie, however, was far less relaxed, her crimson eye darting around as if expecting danger to leap out at any moment.
Behind them, Alastor and Emily walked side by side, their conversation flowing effortlessly.
"I must say," Alastor said, his grin as sharp as ever, "you've acclimated to Hell rather well, my dear Emily. I had half-expected you to crumble under its... peculiarities."
Emily giggled, her wings fluttering lightly. "I've had some great company to keep me sane. Besides, Hell's not so bad once you get used to the, uh, fire and brimstone. And the occasional singing demonic deer-man."
"Ah, flattery!" Alastor replied, with mock modesty. "You truly are a delight. A pity you weren't around during my golden days—I imagine you'd have been quite the partner in mischief."
Emily's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Careful, Alastor, I might take you up on that."
Their lighthearted banter carried on, the two exchanging quips and laughing as if they were old friends.
Vaggie, on the other hand, kept throwing wary glances over her shoulder, her brow furrowing deeper with every cheerful exchange. "Are you not freaked out by this?" she muttered to Charlie. "Alastor and Emily... getting along? It feels like some kind of omen."
Charlie laughed softly, leaning closer to Vaggie and squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I think it's sweet. Emily's kind of impossible to dislike, you know? And maybe Alastor just appreciates someone who can keep up with him."
Vaggie's grip on her spear tightened. "Or he's just waiting for the right moment to turn this into a nightmare."
"Relax, Vags," Charlie said, her tone light and teasing as she swung their hands higher. "If he tries anything, the three of us can take him before he even gets the chance."
Vaggie huffed, her stern expression softening as Charlie's warmth began to chip away at her tension. "You're too calm about this. It's weird."
Charlie grinned, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on Vaggie's cheek. "That's why you love me."
"Yeah, yeah," Vaggie muttered, though her small, reluctant smile betrayed her amusement.
Up ahead, Cannibal Town's buildings began to rise into view, its 1920's architecture standing out starkly against the surrounding districts.
"Well, here we are," Alastor announced, gesturing grandly toward the sprawling domain. "Prepare yourselves for the finest hospitality Hell has to offer. And do try not to embarrass me—I do have a reputation to maintain."
"Embarrass you?" Emily teased, her teal eyes glinting playfully. "You'd need an ego to bruise for that, and we all know you don't have one." she said sarcastically.
Alastor laughed heartily. "Touché."
As they crossed into the entrance of Cannibal Town, Vaggie whispered to Charlie, "If this is how they're going to be the whole time, I might lose my mind."
Charlie giggled, swinging their hands even higher. "Just think of it as bonding time, babe. And who knows? Maybe Alastor and Emily teaming up will be fun."
Vaggie groaned. "That's what I'm afraid of."
Cannibal Town was like a relic frozen in time. The vintage buildings, with their intricate woodwork and muted pastel colors, lined the cobblestone streets, each adorned with hanging flower baskets and well-kept storefronts. It was oddly quaint, like stepping into a photograph of early 20th-century Americana—if one ignored the occasional bloodstains splattered across the streets and the subtle presence of dead bodies propped artfully in some windows.
The district's unique charm—if it could be called that—was both unsettling and oddly beautiful. The architecture, with its Victorian-inspired designs and cobblestone roads, gave the area a strange elegance, as though it were a misplaced fragment of a more dignified time. But the faint metallic tang in the air and the predatory gleam in the eyes of the demons bustling about reminded them all exactly where they were.
Emily, walking a little behind the group, glanced around with wide, curious eyes. Her wings fluttered slightly as her gaze flitted from one cannibal to the next. The residents moved with an unsettling ease, their sharp smiles and exaggerated politeness hiding the dark truth that lurked beneath the surface.
"This place is so weird," Emily whispered to Vaggie, who walked beside her. "It's like a creepy little postcard! Look at the signs! And the outfits! Like, all these fancy buildings and polite demons, but then you remember why they're here, and it's like—whoa." She made a sweeping gesture with her hand, mimicking an explosion.
Vaggie smirked faintly, her magenta eye scanning the crowd warily. "Yeah. It's like someone took a slice of Heaven's aesthetic and gave it the most messed-up twist possible."
"Right?" Emily said, her voice lowering as she leaned in closer. "I mean, look at them. They're chatting, shopping, drinking tea—like it's some quaint little village. But then you see what's in the butcher shop windows, and it's like... oh, right. Cannibal Town."
Vaggie's smirk faded as her gaze lingered on a nearby storefront. The pristine display case was filled with elegantly arranged cuts of meat, each piece labeled with precise handwriting. A small sign above the counter read Locally Sourced – Fresh Daily.
"Yeah," Vaggie muttered, her voice tight. "It's definitely unsettling."
Emily tilted her head, her curiosity undeterred. "Do you think it's, like, a coping thing? All this—" she gestured to the ornate lampposts and flower-adorned shopfronts—"to make them feel... normal? Like they're not, you know, eating each other?"
"Maybe," Vaggie replied, her tone distant as she kept an eye on a group of demons lingering near a café. "Or maybe it's just Rosie's influence. She keeps things... structured here. Peaceful, in a way. As much as it can be."
Emily hummed thoughtfully, her eyes drifting toward a well-dressed demon who tipped his hat politely as he passed. "It's just... so different from the rest of the Pride Ring. Most of it's chaos and fire and screaming, but here? It's almost calm. Like Hell forgot this part exists."
Vaggie glanced at Emily, her expression softening slightly. "Yeah, but don't let it fool you. Just because it looks calm doesn't mean it's not dangerous. They're polite, sure, but it's because they're playing by Rosie's rules. Step outside those rules, and they'll eat you alive. Literally."
Emily shivered, her wings fluttering. "Yeah, no thanks. I'll stick to tea and biscuits."
Up ahead, Alastor glanced over his shoulder, his sharp grin catching the faint light of the lanterns that lined the street. "Enjoying yourselves back there, ladies?" he asked, his tone as cheery as ever.
Emily gave him a cheeky smile. "Oh, we're just admiring the charming scenery! It's so... quaint."
She darted toward a group of locals gathered near a barber shop, their dapper suits and vintage dresses impeccably maintained. They were all chatting amiably, though their eyes flickered to Emily as her angelic glow cast faint halos on the sidewalk.
"Excuse me," Emily chirped, leaning in with a bright smile. "Where did you get that dress? It's stunning!"
One of the women turned slowly, her perfectly curled hair catching the light as her crimson lips stretched into a sharp, predatory grin. "Why, thank you, dear," she cooed, her voice sugary sweet. "It's made from... custom materials. You'd look positively delicious in something like this."
"Emily!" Vaggie hissed, gripping her spear tightly as she moved to intercept. "Get back here before you—"
Before she could finish, the woman's smile turned feral, her sharp teeth gleaming as her hand reached for Emily. Two of her companions began closing in as well, their friendly exteriors cracking to reveal barely contained bloodlust.
"Oh, dear," Alastor remarked from a distance, his grin widening as he lounged lazily on his cane. "This won't do."
With a flick of his wrist, shadowy tendrils erupted from the ground, slithering like ink across the cobblestones. They coiled around Emily's waist and yanked her backward, spinning her away from the cannibals just as a clawed hand swiped where she'd been standing.
"Hey!" Emily yelped as she was deposited unceremoniously beside Alastor. "I was just talking to them!"
"You were being appraised like a side of prime rib," Alastor said cheerfully, dusting off her shoulders. "You'll forgive me for intervening, Emily. I'd hate to lose you to an ill-timed introduction."
Emily blinked, then glanced back at the smiling cannibals, who were now watching her with hungry eyes. "Oh," she said, her tone suddenly sheepish. "I guess they were... uh... a little too friendly."
"A little?" Vaggie snapped, stepping protectively between Emily and the group. "You were this close to being their appetizer."
"Well… Maybe I'm delicious!" Emily said, chuckling nervously.
Charlie, meanwhile, was trying—and failing—not to laugh as she tugged Vaggie's hand. "Come on, babe. Let's not cause a scene. Rosie wouldn't let anything happen to her guests."
Vaggie scowled but stayed close, her spear still at the ready as she slowly circled around the cannibals.
"Shall we?" Alastor gestured grandly toward the center of town. "Rosie will be waiting, and I'd hate to keep her. She does so detest tardiness."
Emily, still slightly dazed, dusted herself off and fell in line, her wings twitching nervously. "Well, that's one way to make a first impression."
"Consider it a lesson in subtlety," Alastor said with a grin, tipping his hat. "This is Cannibal Town, after all. A little charm goes a long way—and so does self-preservation."
As they moved deeper into the town, the vintage charm grew even more surreal. Polite nods and friendly waves greeted them at every turn, though the smiles never quite reached the locals' eyes. Charlie hummed quietly, swinging Vaggie's hand as if they were on a leisurely stroll.
Charlie's golden eyes sparkled with nostalgia as she swung Vaggie's hand, her voice animated as she pointed to various landmarks. "Over there's the gazebo where I sang to everyone and convinced them to help us during the battle! And that's Rosie's tea shop—it's so cute, you're going to love it. Oh! And over there, that's where I bought you that shrunken head. Remember?"
Vaggie shot her soft smile. "How could I forget? It was when I knew we'd be okay..."
Charlie giggled, undeterred. "I thought it had so much character! Anyway, there's a bakery where you can buy cupcakes that scream when you bite them, and that's—" Her voice trailed off, her cheerful tone suddenly faltering. "And that's Susan."
Vaggie blinked. "Susan?"
Charlie froze mid-step, her smile plastered awkwardly in place as her gaze locked onto an approaching figure down the cobblestone street. A hunched-over, scowling old woman shuffled toward them, her white hair limp beneath a small hat with blue feather and a fox fur draped across her shoulders. She wore a faded red dress stained with what was most definitely not just jam. Her beady eyes narrowed as she spotted Charlie, and her lips curled into a tight, disapproving sneer.
"Oh, shit," Charlie muttered under her breath, her sunny demeanor vanishing. "Susan."
Alastor, strolling just behind them, raised an eyebrow as his perpetual grin widened. "Ah, Susan. The most delightful little curmudgeon in all of Cannibal Town." His crimson gaze slid toward Charlie. "Shall we?"
Charlie and Alastor exchanged a knowing look—the kind of look that spoke volumes without a single word. Then, almost as if rehearsed, they each placed a firm hand on Vaggie and Emily's shoulders, steering them directly toward the approaching Susan.
"Good luck, darlings," Alastor said cheerfully, his voice lilting as he stepped backward, already preparing his escape.
Charlie gave them an apologetic grin, her wings fluttering nervously as she started to edge away. "You've got this! Just keep her... distracted!"
"Wait, what?!" Vaggie's eye narrowed as she turned to glare at Charlie. "You're leaving us to deal with her?"
"Distracted?" Emily echoed, tilting her head as she floated toward Charlie and Alastor. "She's like... someone's grandma. How bad could she—"
"DON'T YOU FLOAT AWAY, YOU FLUORESCENT LITTLE PIGEON!" Susan's voice, raspy and dripping with venom, cut through the air. Her gnarled cane jabbed in Emily's direction like a harpoon as her wiry, hunched frame stormed closer. "I'll pluck those wings right off if you keep flapping around like some uppity cherub!"
Emily's glowing eyes widened. "Uh... never mind. She's terrifying."
"Oh, you have no idea," Charlie muttered, already stepping behind Alastor as she grabbed his arm. "Come on, Al, we need to go. Now."
"But why me?!" Vaggie hissed, throwing her hands up. "Why are we the ones dealing with her?"
Charlie gave a sheepish laugh, retreating further. "Because you're amazing, and I love you, and I believe in you!" She paused, then added quickly, "And I really, really don't want to get hit with that cane again."
"And I simply find it amusing," Alastor said with a wide grin, adjusting his monocle. "Good luck, ladies! Try not to get eaten—or scolded to death!"
Before Vaggie or Emily could protest further, Charlie and Alastor turned on their heels and bolted down the nearest side street, Charlie's golden hair and Alastor's crimson coat disappearing into the chaos of Cannibal Town.
Vaggie stood frozen for a moment, her jaw tightening as Susan hobbled closer, her sharp eyes gleaming with the kind of judgment only an old, grumpy cannibal could muster.
"Well, well," Susan sneered, her gaze flicking between them. "I see the little princess left her scraps behind to face the music."
Vaggie groaned, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I hate this place."
Emily, ever the optimist, gave a nervous laugh as she floated closer to Vaggie. "Okay, okay, maybe she isn't as bad as they're acting?"
"Don't get me started on you!" She rounded on Emily, jabbing her cane into Emily's shin. "Walking around here like you're the goddamn sun with your sparkly pigeon wings! If I wanted to stare at a glow stick, I'd break one in half and shove it up my—"
"Okay!" Vaggie cut in loudly, stepping between Emily and Susan. "Let's all take a deep breath and... NOT let this escalate into a shouting match in the middle of the street."
Susan's gaze flicked to Vaggie, narrowing into slits. "And who do you think you are, stepping in like you're in charge? You're just a knockoff pirate with a fancy stick!"
"What in the fuck did you just- Okay! Nope, not doing this." Vaggie stepped forward, cutting Susan off sharply and holding up her hands in an attempt to defuse the situation. "That's enough. Let's all calm down before this turns into... whatever it's turning into."
Meanwhile, Charlie and Alastor were already backing away down the cobblestone street, their footsteps soft but quick as they tried not to laugh.
Back in the middle of the street, Emily raised her hands defensively. "Susan, ma'am, I don't want any trouble—"
Susan's cane whipped toward her. "Trouble? You are trouble, you smug little shit! If you weren't flapping those ridiculous Pixie wings, maybe I'd consider you half decent. You think you're better than me because you glow? F*k off, Tinkerbell. I've seen roadkill with more charm."
Vaggie took a deep breath, forcing her voice into something steady. "I'm not here to fight. We don't need to do this in the middle of the street, okay? Let's just—"
"Oh, look at you, all diplomatic," Susan interrupted with a mocking sneer. "Bet you're just full of big words and empty threats, aren't you, doll? Like a little chihuahua trying to bark at a bear."
From the shadows, Charlie and Alastor watched the chaos unfold, their shoulders shaking with laughter as Vaggie attempted to wrangle Susan while Emily tried—unsuccessfully—to apologize.
"Oh, I do adore this town," Alastor mused, his grin sharp and pleased. "And Susan. Truly, she's one of Hell's… Bitchiest."
Charlie leaned on him slightly, still trying to catch her breath. "Okay, okay, but we should probably go back and help them... eventually."
"Eventually," Alastor agreed, though neither of them made a move to return.
Susan's scowl deepened as she pointed a crooked finger at Vaggie. "And you, Patches, don't think you're off the hook either! Flouncing around here like Heaven's personal pest control! If you come one flap closer to my garden, I'll turn you into a goddamn rotisserie!"
Emily froze mid-hover, her wings fluttering erratically as she absorbed the insult to Vaggie. Her glowing halo flickered faintly, and for a moment, her usual bubbly demeanor faltered. Then, to Vaggie's surprise, Emily let out a sharp breath, her expression shifting.
"Oh, fuck off!" Emily snapped, her voice sharper than anyone had ever heard it. She darted forward, her wings flaring outward as she jabbed a glowing finger toward Susan. "I don't know what your problem is, you crusty old banshee, but maybe take your bitterness and shove it back into whatever cunt you crawled out of!"
Susan blinked, momentarily stunned. Her gnarled hand froze mid-cane jab as her sharp eyes narrowed at the sudden shift in Emily's presence.
Vaggie's jaw dropped as she stared at Emily in disbelief. The usually sweet and bubbly angel now radiated something far more commanding—otherworldly, even. Emily's wings unfurled to their full span, their pristine white feathers glowing faintly in the hellish haze of Cannibal Town. Her halo shifted, the small eye at its center opening and locking onto Susan with an unsettling precision.
As Emily stepped forward, her gown shimmered, transforming into her full angelic form. The white fabric gleamed, its intricate designs accented by larger periwinkle diamonds and dark blue eye-like patterns that seemed to follow Susan's every movement. At the center of her chest, a large, luminous blue eye opened wide, its lashes curling outward like sun rays, as if judging the old woman's very soul.
Emily wasn't done. "Oh, what? Did I hurt your feelings, grandma? Too bad! You've been stomping around here like some kind of discount horror movie villain, throwing your cane and your attitude at everyone! Newsflash: you're not scary. You're ridiculous! You're a wrinkled sack of shit with bad posture, bad teeth and worse manners! I don't know who you think you're messing with, but if you so much as poke me with that stupid cane again, I'll turn this entire block into a fucking light show!"
Susan's mouth twitched, but Emily kept going, her voice gaining steam. Even for a town of cannibals used to Hell's horrors, the sheer divinity of Emily's form seemed to make Susan hesitate.
"And another thing! What the hell is your problem with me, huh? Because I'm an Angel? Sorry I'm not a dull, grimy gremlin like you! If I'm too shiny for your taste, go stick your head back up your ass and save the rest of us from your shitty mood! You want to insult someone? Go find a mirror and yell at the wrinkled cunt staring back at you!""
Vaggie's shock slowly morphed into a grin as she crossed her arms, watching Emily unleash what could only be described as a verbal hurricane. "Well, well," she muttered, barely containing her laughter. "Where have you been hiding this Emily?"
Susan tilted her head, her eyes narrowing, but her lips twitched into what might have been a grudging smirk.
Emily pointed dramatically at Susan, her voice reaching a crescendo. "You wanna keep yelling? Fine! But don't think for a second I'm scared of you, you wrinkly, crabby, expired hunk of bitch!"
The street fell silent for a beat, save for Emily's heavy breathing as her wings slowly lowered. Susan stared at her, her expression unreadable.
Then, to everyone's shock, Susan let out a loud, wheezy laugh. It started low and guttural, but it grew louder until it echoed down the cobblestone street. She clutched her sides, her cane wobbling as she leaned on it for support.
"Well, I'll be damned!" Susan rasped, her laughter subsiding into a delighted cackle. She reached out and slung a bony arm around Emily's shoulders, pulling her close. "It's nice to see one of you younguns has a goddamn backbone! Feisty little thing, aren't ya?"
Vaggie froze, utterly baffled, while Emily just looked around for help from over Susan's shoulder.
Susan hobbled forward and threw a bony arm around Emily's shoulders, completely unbothered by the glowing eye staring back at her from Emily's chest. "You've got guts, kid," Susan declared, her smirk widening into a toothy grin. "Maybe you're not as useless as I thought."
Emily looked helplessly at Vaggie, her wings drooping slightly as her angelic form dimmed back to its usual state. "Uh... thanks?" she managed.
Susan grinned, her crooked teeth on full display. "Don't get me wrong, you're still a pain in my ass. But at least you've got the balls to say what's on your mind. Unlike most of these spineless brats." She gestured vaguely toward the rest of the town.
Susan turned her sharp gaze on Vaggie, her grin widening. "And you! Patches! You stick with this one. She might actually toughen your ass up."
Vaggie offered a hesitant thumbs-up. "Will do."
As Susan wandered off, still chuckling to herself, Vaggie turned to Emily, her expression a mix of exasperation and bewilderment. "Did that just happen?"
Emily nodded solemnly, her teal glow faintly brighter now. "Yup. Made a friend. A terrifying, murdery, old-lady friend."
From their hiding spot behind a corner, Charlie and Alastor peeked cautiously at the scene unfolding before them. Alastor's static hum crackled faintly as his grin stretched impossibly wide. Charlie's golden eyes were wide with a mix of horror and fascination as they both watched Emily unleash verbal hell.
"Well," Alastor began, his tone positively dripping with amusement, "I must say, I did not anticipate that from our dear Emily."
Charlie blinked, pressing a hand over her mouth. "Did she... did she just call Susan a wrinkled old Cunt?"
"Oh, she absolutely did," Alastor confirmed, his voice buzzing with delight. "And might I add, she's doing it with such... heavenly flair."
Charlie leaned slightly closer to the edge of the corner, peering at Emily's glowing, angelic form. "Al, I think that giant eye on her chest is looking at me. Does it look like it's judging us to you?"
Alastor chuckled darkly, tilting his head. "Oh, it's absolutely judging us. I'd wager it's weighing our sins this very moment. But do tell me, my dear, how does it feel knowing you've shacked up with such a... luminous firebrand?"
Charlie ignored his teasing, instead tugging at his sleeve. "We should step in! Susan might—"
"Ah-ah," Alastor interrupted, raising a hand with a wide grin. "Let's not be hasty, Charlie. This is entertainment. Let's see how far our little firecracker pushes her before she does."
Charlie huffed, her wings twitching nervously. "You're awful, you know that?"
"And yet, you still keep my company," Alastor replied with a chuckle, adjusting his monocle. "Now hush. I want to hear how she finishes this verbal masterpiece."
When Susan froze mid-cane jab, Charlie clutched Alastor's arm. "Oh no, she's going to attack!"
Instead, Susan let out a raspy laugh that echoed down the cobblestone street, startling even nearby cannibals.
Charlie's jaw dropped. "She's laughing? Is she actually laughing?"
"Indeed, she is!" Alastor said with glee, clapping his hands together. "Oh, this is positively delicious!"
They watched as Susan slung her bony arm around Emily, who looked utterly baffled, her angelic form dimming slightly as the old woman cackled and declared her approval.
"She's bonding with her," Charlie whispered, her tone incredulous. "Susan's bonding with Emily!"
"And isn't it marvelous?" Alastor replied, his grin somehow widening further. "Why, she might have just done the impossible: tamed the great and ornery Susan!"
Charlie shook her head, still trying to process the scene. "I don't know whether to be proud or terrified."
"Both, my dear," Alastor said, his tone bright and chipper. "Always both."
They ducked back around the corner as Susan turned her sharp gaze toward the street, her arm still draped over Emily's shoulders.
When Susan finally wandered off, still chuckling to herself, Emily floated back toward Vaggie, her glow dimming as she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "So... that happened," she said.
Vaggie shook her head, an exasperated but impressed smile breaking through. "Yeah, it did. I can't believe I'm saying this, but... nice job."
From their hiding spot, Charlie let out a relieved sigh and stepped out of the shadows. "See? I told you Susan wasn't that bad!"
Vaggie turned on her instantly, her crimson eye narrowing. "You hid. You're dead to me."
Charlie giggled, sidling up to her and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "Love you too, babe!"
Alastor strolled out behind her, his laughter crackling in the air. "Bravo, my dear" he said, tipping an imaginary hat to Emily. "Perhaps I should hire you as my personal diplomat for future visits to Cannibal Town. You seem to have a way with the locals."
Emily groaned, her wings drooping. "Please don't make me talk to her again."
As they walked away from Susan's smirking figure, Charlie glanced over at Emily, her golden eyes glinting with mischief. "You know, Emily," she began, her voice lilting with playful sweetness, "maybe we need to look into anger management classes for you."
Emily groaned, dragging her hand down her face. "God, no. Never again. Sera made me do that for a century back during the Dark Ages."
Charlie blinked, her steps slowing. "Wait, really? You? Anger management? You're like the most bubbly, sunshine-y person I've ever met."
Emily crossed her arms, muttering, "Yeah, well… Back then, I had this tiny little problem of, y'know, bottling up millennia of frustration from dealing with everyone else's problems. Turns out, when you're one of Heaven's Joy-Bringers, you don't get a lot of time to solve your own."
Vaggie raised an eyebrow. "So... what happened?"
Emily sighed, her wings fluttering faintly. "Let's just say things... escalated. I might've, um, burned down some human cities. Gave some very unfortunate humans a front-row seat to my 'fiery Seraphim of divine retribution' phase. Come to think of it.. might be why so many scriptures from the time describe Seraphim as terrifying avengers of God."
Charlie stared at her, slack-jawed. "You're kidding."
Emily shook her head, her expression sheepish. "Nope. It was bad. Like, 'Sera yelling at me in front of a celestial tribunal for hours' bad. She said I was giving angels a bad name and making her job harder."
Alastor let out a low, delighted chuckle, adjusting his tie as his grin stretched wider. "Oh, this is fascinating," he said, his static crackling faintly. "Sweet little Emily, the scourge of the Dark Ages. I'll have to dig up some historical records to confirm this."
Charlie blinked at him, still processing Emily's revelation. "I mean, I get it now, but... Emily? Really?"
Emily groaned again, rubbing the back of her neck. "It was a long time ago, okay? I've changed."
"Oh, Emily, don't act so surprised. After all, you're not the only one who's had a... fiery outburst."
Charlie's golden eyes widened, her brow furrowing. "What are you—"
Alastor's grin twitched wider as he raised a hand, his voice suddenly mimicking Charlie's almost perfectly, though with a faint scratchy quality, like a slightly warped recording. "You told Susan to, and I quote, 'fuck off, you old bitch!'" His imitation was eerily perfect, capturing Charlie's cheerful tone and musical lilt so precisely it was uncanny.
Vaggie froze for a moment before slapping a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking violently as she tried to suppress her laughter. Emily, on the other hand, let out an unrestrained cackle, doubling over and clutching her stomach as her wings flapped erratically.
Charlie's face turned beet red, her jaw dropping. "I—I did NOT!" she spluttered, though the faint waver in her voice betrayed her doubt.
"Oh, but you did," Alastor said, his grin sharp as a blade, his tone buzzing with static amusement. "I was there, my dear, and I must say, it was one of your finer moments. Quite memorable, really."
"Wait, wait," Emily wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes as she stared at Alastor. "You can do voices? Like... perfect voices?!"
Alastor tipped his hat, the shadows around him twisting faintly as he chuckled. "My dear, there are many things I can do that you haven't seen yet. Best to keep a few tricks hidden, wouldn't you agree? Surprises are far more... effective when reserved for one's enemies."
Charlie blinked, her embarrassment momentarily forgotten as she stared at him in disbelief. "You've never mentioned this before!"
Vaggie finally managed to stop laughing long enough to chime in, her tone sharp with mock accusation. "What else can you do that you're not telling us, huh?"
"Oh, plenty," Alastor said airily, his red eyes gleaming with mischief. "But where's the fun in showing all my cards at once?"
Emily grinned, floating closer to him. "Okay, but that voice thing? That's creepy and impressive."
"And infuriating," Charlie muttered, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "Do NOT use my voice again. Ever."
Alastor's grin widened impossibly. "Oh, but it's so much fun, my dear."
Vaggie smirked, slinging an arm around Charlie's shoulders. "Honestly? Kinda proud of you, babe. Didn't know you had that kind of fire in you."
Charlie groaned, burying her face in her hands. "She insulted my singing.." she mumbled, though there was a faint laugh hidden in her voice.
Emily straightened, still grinning as she twirled in the air. "Hey, at least now I don't feel so bad about my anger issues. Welcome to the club, Charlie!"
Charlie groaned even louder, prompting fresh laughter from Vaggie and Emily while Alastor chuckled smugly to himself, clearly enjoying the chaos he'd stirred up.
The group stepped into Rosie's Tea Emporium, the bells on the door jingling softly. The atmosphere was an odd blend of quaint and unsettling. Delicate lace curtains adorned the windows, and polished wooden furniture filled the room. However, the tables were covered with intricately arranged platters of "treats" that left little doubt as to their sinister origin—finger sandwiches had a far-too-literal meaning here.
"Welcome, my dears," a smooth, gracious voice chimed. Rosie herself glided forward, her tall figure radiating a poised elegance despite the unsettling grin that showcased her razor-sharp teeth. Her maroon dress swayed with every step, her wide-brimmed hat casting a faint shadow over her pitch-black eyes. "What an absolute delight to see you all."
Alastor tipped his hat, his signature static hum mingling with the soft jazz playing in the background. "Rosie, my darling! It's been far too long."
"Indeed, it has," Rosie replied, clasping his hand briefly before turning her attention to Charlie and the others. "And you've brought friends! Charlie, my dear, always a pleasure to see you. And these must be your charming companions."
Charlie beamed, stepping forward. "Rosie, it's so good to see you again! I wanted to check in after everything that happened. And yes, this is Vaggie and Emily." She gestured to each in turn, Emily offering a shy wave and Vaggie nodding politely.
As they settled in, Rosie moved with practiced ease, pouring tea into delicate bone china cups. The set was stunning, etched with faintly glowing crimson patterns that seemed to pulse faintly under the light. Charlie held her cup carefully, marveling at the craftsmanship.
"This is lovely," Charlie said softly, her golden eyes scanning the room. The warm, inviting atmosphere of the shop was a stark contrast to the streets outside.
Vaggie, sitting to her right, took a measured sip of her tea, her magenta eye fixed on Rosie with a mixture of caution and curiosity. "Mm, yeah. 'Lovely,'" she echoed, though her tone betrayed her watchfulness.
Emily, meanwhile, examined her cup with wide eyes before sniffing the tea curiously. "This smells amazing! What's in it?" she asked, her voice bubbly.
Rosie chuckled lightly, sitting gracefully in the chair nearest Charlie. "A special blend," she said. "One of my own creations—floral with a hint of spice. A perfect balance, wouldn't you agree?"
Emily took a sip and let out an exaggerated sigh of delight. "Oh, yeah, that's really good. You could totally bottle this and sell it."
Rosie's sharp smile softened, her gaze flicking back to Charlie. "So, Charlie," she began, her voice conversational but tinged with curiosity. "What brings you back to our quaint little town?"
Charlie set her cup down gently, her golden eyes meeting Rosie's. "We wanted to check in after everything that happened," she said. "I know things got... complicated during the Extermination."
Rosie nodded, her expression calm but thoughtful. "Complicated, indeed. But Cannibal Town remains standing, as it always does. We are survivors, my dear. Surely you understand that better than most."
Charlie gave a faint smile, nodding. "Still, I thought it would be good to reconnect. And, well, Vaggie and Emily's never been here before. I also just... I wanted to say thank you. For everything. The help, the advice... convincing the cannibals to join the fight. I couldn't have done it without you."
Rosie waved a hand dismissively, though her smile softened. "Oh, nonsense, my dear. All I did was point you in the right direction. The rest was your doing. Your charisma, your passion—it's what made them follow you." Rosie glanced at Emily, her smile widening slightly. "Ah, yes. A fresh pair of eyes. I do hope Cannibal Town is making a strong impression."
Emily grinned, her wings fluttering slightly. "Oh, it is! This place is wild. Fancy and terrifying all at once. It's like walking into a haunted dollhouse—but, you know, classy."
Rosie laughed lightly, the sound melodic. "I'll take that as a compliment. And you, my dear Vaggie?" she asked, her dark gaze shifting. "Are you enjoying your time here?"
Vaggie hesitated, her magenta eye narrowing slightly as she held her tea. "It's... interesting," she said carefully. "I can see why Charlie likes you. You're sharp."
Rosie inclined her head graciously, her sharp smile unwavering. "I'll take that as a compliment as well. Now, please, relax. The tea shop is a place of peace, after all."
Vaggie, ever cautious, eyed the tea suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. "Well, we're grateful all the same," she said, her tone measured. "It's not every day someone in Hell offers genuine help."
Rosie chuckled, her laughter as elegant as it was eerie. "Ah, but Charlie is no ordinary demon, is she? And any friend of hers is a friend of mine."
As the conversation continued, Rosie's sharp gaze flicked between them, her keen intellect clearly analyzing every word and gesture. She spoke with a warmth that belied the darker undertones of her surroundings, her charm as much a weapon as it was a gift.
Eventually, Rosie's grin turned sly as she looked at Charlie. "And how is the hotel, my dear? Thriving, I hope?"
Charlie nodded enthusiastically. "It's been going really well! We've had some challenges, of course, but I think we're finally getting into a good rhythm."
"I'm pleased to hear that," Rosie said. "You're building something remarkable, Charlie. Something that could change Hell itself. But..." Her tone grew serious, her black eyes glinting in the dim light. "You know as well as I do that such change comes with enemies. Powerful ones."
Charlie's smile faltered, and she exchanged a glance with Vaggie and Alastor. "I know," she admitted. "But I'm ready for whatever comes."
Rosie's grin returned, sharp and approving. "Good. Because I have no doubt you'll face it with the same determination that brought you here."
Rosie leaned back in her chair, her teacup cradled delicately in her hands as she cast a knowing smile at Charlie. "So," she began, her sharp eyes flicking to Vaggie. "Looks like your girl troubles are all sorted, hmm?"
Charlie blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before a warm, sheepish smile spread across her face. "Yeah, they are," she said softly, glancing at Vaggie. "Things are... really great now."
Vaggie squeezed Charlie's hand gently, her crimson eye full of gratitude as she turned to Rosie. "Thanks for talking to Charlie back then," she said earnestly. "You didn't have to, but... it helped. More than you know."
Rosie waved a hand dismissively, though her smile softened. "Oh, nonsense, dear. That's what friends are for. And besides," she added with a sly smirk, "what kind of hypocrite would I be if I didn't push a little second-chance redemption?"
Charlie blushed slightly, laughing. "You weren't that pushy."
"Oh, weren't I?" Rosie quipped, raising a perfectly arched brow. "I distinctly remember saying, 'Give the girl a chance, darling. Even angels need redemption sometimes.'" She paused, her gaze sliding toward Emily with a playful glint. "Speaking of angels... what's the story with this one, hmm? Am I to assume she's joined the fold?"
Emily's silver skin took on a faint glow of pink as she fluttered awkwardly. "Oh, I—um, well, yeah? Sort of? I mean, it's a little complicated..."
"She's our girlfriend," Charlie interjected with a grin, beaming as she wrapped an arm around Emily's shoulders. "And we're really happy."
Rosie chuckled, her grin widening. "My, my, look at you. From heartache to a full-blown throuple. You Morningstars don't do anything halfway, do you?"
Vaggie snorted, trying to stifle a laugh, while Emily hid her glowing face behind her hands. "I feel so called out right now," she mumbled, though her voice carried a note of humor.
Rosie raised her teacup in a mock toast. "To second chances and overly ambitious romances," she said with a wink.
Charlie laughed, raising her own cup. "I'll drink to that."
Vaggie sighed, shaking her head fondly as she leaned into Charlie. "You're all ridiculous," she muttered, though her smile betrayed her affection.
The warm, fragrant tea filled the air with a comforting aroma as Charlie, Vaggie, and Emily sat at the cozy table, the low murmur of other patrons blending into the gentle clink of teacups. Rosie had stepped away gracefully, guiding Alastor to a booth a few seats down. Her maroon dress swayed with each step, her posture impeccable, while Alastor followed, his sharp grin never faltering as his static-laced voice hummed with light conversation.
At their table, Emily leaned forward, balancing her teacup on her fingertips with a playful grin. "Okay, but we have to talk about the tea. How does this even work in Hell? Like, floral notes in the land of fire and sulfur? Did Rosie make a deal with some celestial gardener or something?"
Charlie giggled softly, her golden eyes twinkling as she set her cup down. "Rosie's full of surprises. I wouldn't put it past her to have a secret supplier somewhere—maybe a demon who specializes in rare plants?"
Vaggie snorted lightly, swirling her tea in her cup as her magenta eye flicked toward the distant booth where Rosie and Alastor now sat. "If anyone could pull it off, it's her. I mean, look at this place. She's running a tea shop in the middle of Cannibal Town. You'd think it would be the last business to work here, but somehow she's made it... classy."
Emily raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Classy? This place has murder vibes written all over it. Don't get me wrong, it's really nice murder vibes, but I keep expecting one of those skull decorations to start talking or something."
Charlie laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "It's Hell, Emily. Anything's possible. But honestly, I think Rosie's made this place special. It's peaceful in a way you don't really see anywhere else here."
Vaggie took a sip of her tea, her expression softening. "Peaceful, yeah. But don't forget what Alastor said earlier. Rosie keeps this place running because everyone plays by her rules. The second someone steps out of line..." She trailed off, her voice quiet but pointed.
Emily tilted her head, her wings twitching slightly. "You're such a buzzkill, Vaggie," she teased lightly, though her tone lacked real bite. "Can't we just enjoy the tea and not think about the whole, 'we could get eaten if we screw up' thing?"
Vaggie gave her a flat look, but Charlie stepped in with a laugh, her hand brushing Vaggie's lightly. "Emily's right. Let's just enjoy this for now. It's not every day we get to sit somewhere this nice."
Vaggie sighed but relented, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Fine. But if someone offers you finger sandwiches, Emily, don't ask what's in them."
Emily snorted into her tea, nearly spilling it. "Oh my gosh, Vaggie!"
As their conversation continued with lighthearted banter, a few seats away, Rosie poured herself a fresh cup of tea, her movements as elegant and deliberate as ever, as she sat across from Alastor in the quiet booth. The sharp gleam of her black eyes reflected the warm glow of the tea shop's lighting, though her expression was contemplative.
Rosie was the first to break the silence, her voice low but laced with curiosity. "Well then, Alastor, shall we get to the heart of your visit? You rarely stop by without an agenda."
Alastor leaned back in his seat, adjusting his bowtie with an air of casual charm. His grin, as always, was impossibly wide, but his crimson eyes gleamed with something sharper. "My dear Rosie, you wound me. Can't a fellow Overlord simply drop in for a chat with an old friend?"
Rosie tilted her head, her dark eyes narrowing faintly in amusement. "Oh, you can, darling. But you don't. So, tell me, what's been keeping you so busy?"
"You're right, as always. I'm here for a little insight. You've always had your ear to the ground when it comes to... certain matters."
Rosie tilted her head slightly, studying him as she sipped her tea. "You're referring to the latest turf wars, I assume? It's been chaos lately, even by Hell's standards."
"Precisely," Alastor said, leaning forward slightly, his grin never wavering. "Though one particular detail has been... gnawing at me. Our dear Vees—Vox and Valentino—have been remarkably quiet since dear Velvette's unfortunate demise at Charlie's hands."
Rosie's lips curled into a knowing smile, her fingers tapping lightly against the delicate china of her teacup. "Quiet is putting it lightly," she replied. "They've practically vanished from the scene. No power plays, no retaliation, not even a token effort to hold their territories. It's as if they've evaporated."
Alastor chuckled, the sound dark and smooth, with an undercurrent of static. "Which is entirely unlike them. Vox, especially—he's never been one to shy away from flexing his influence, especially when provoked. Yet here we are, watching their territories slowly slip through their fingers."
Rosie nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Indeed. Vox has always been calculated, but he's still predictable. He moves to secure his assets, maintain his networks, and retaliate swiftly when threatened. But now? Nothing. The tech districts are in disarray, the Vees' usual enforcers are scattered, and smaller factions are chipping away at their holdings like vultures picking at a carcass."
"Hmm," Alastor mused, his grin widening. "Do you think they've finally bitten off more than they can chew? Or is this a calculated retreat, meant to lull everyone into a false sense of security?"
Rosie set her cup down gently, her sharp nails clicking softly against the saucer. "I've considered both possibilities," she said, her tone even. "But I suspect there's more to it. Valentino and Vox are opportunists, yes, but they're also prideful. To retreat without so much as a token fight would damage their reputations beyond repair. They must know how this looks to the other Overlords."
Alastor tilted his head, his crimson eyes gleaming with intrigue. "Ah, yes, the all-important dance of power and perception. Hell is nothing if not theatrical, isn't it?"
Rosie chuckled softly, the sound as refined as her demeanor. "Indeed. But this silence... it's unsettling. Either they're planning something on a scale we haven't seen before, or they've been... incapacitated."
Alastor's grin sharpened, the static in his voice crackling faintly. "Oh, now that's an interesting thought. Do you think Charlie's victory over Velvette shook them that much? Perhaps our dear princess has inspired fear in the hearts of the mighty Vees?"
Rosie's gaze flicked briefly toward Charlie's table, where light laughter and conversation mingled with the clink of teacups. "Perhaps," she said softly, though her tone was measured. "But I doubt fear is the only factor. Velvette's fall disrupted the balance of their trio, certainly, but it's not enough to explain their complete withdrawal. Something else is in play here."
Alastor leaned forward, his grin gleaming. "And what might that be, dear Rosie? Any whispers from your lovely little network?"
Rosie's smile returned, sharp and mysterious. "Only fragments," she admitted. "Rumors of strange meetings, movements in the shadows. But nothing concrete—yet. Rest assured, I'm keeping an eye on the situation. Whatever the Vees are up to, it won't remain hidden for long."
"Excellent," Alastor purred, leaning back once more. "Do keep me informed, won't you? This little mystery has all the makings of a delightful show."
Rosie inclined her head, her smile unwavering. "Of course, darling. After all, the best performances always require an attentive audience."
As their conversation lapsed into quieter tones, the faint hum of activity from Charlie's table filled the air. The tea shop remained as elegant and serene as ever, but beneath its polished surface, the threads of Hell's ever-shifting power struggles continued to weave their tangled web.
At their cozy table, Charlie, Vaggie, and Emily had settled into a relaxed rhythm of conversation. The tea's fragrant warmth had worked its magic, softening the tension that usually followed them in Hell. Emily had taken to cradling her cup in both hands, savoring each sip with an exaggerated look of bliss.
"This tea," Emily said, leaning forward dramatically, "is life-changing. Charlie, you have to bring some of this back to the hotel."
Charlie blinked, her golden eyes widening slightly. "What? I can't just—Emily, this is Rosie's tea. It's her special blend."
"So?" Emily replied, her wings fluttering slightly as she grinned. "That's exactly why we need it! Can you imagine? This tea at the hotel? Everyone would be obsessed. Husk might actually stop drinking for two seconds and appreciate it."
Vaggie snorted into her cup. "Yeah, right. Husk would just pour whiskey into it and call it a cocktail."
"Okay, maybe he would," Emily admitted with a laugh, "but the rest of us would totally love it. It's classy! Fancy! It screams 'we're a real, high-end establishment!'" She leaned closer to Charlie, her light-blue eyes sparkling. "C'mon, Charlie. You could sweet-talk Rosie into selling us some, right?"
Charlie shook her head, though her smile was fond. "I don't think that's how it works, Emily. Rosie puts so much effort into making her shop special. She probably wouldn't want her tea sold anywhere else."
"But we wouldn't be selling it!" Emily countered, sitting up straighter. "We'd just serve it to the residents. You know, elevate the hotel's vibe. Give it that extra touch." She lifted her cup, swirling the remaining tea dramatically. "Besides, it's not like we're competing with Rosie. Her shop is... one-of-a-kind."
Vaggie leaned back in her chair, her magenta eye narrowing slightly as she smirked. "You just want an excuse to drink this every day without having to come back here, don't you?"
Emily gasped, feigning offense. "How dare you accuse me of such blatant truth!"
Charlie laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "Emily, I get it, but I think Rosie would want us to enjoy it here, not turn the hotel into a second Cannibal Town tea shop."
Emily pouted, slumping back into her chair. "Fine. But you're missing an opportunity, Charlie. This stuff is magic." She sighed, taking another sip and glancing toward Rosie and Alastor in their corner booth. "You know, if Rosie offered a subscription service, I'd sign up in a heartbeat."
"Sure you would," Vaggie said dryly. "Right after you make sure the tea isn't brewed with... I don't know, demon souls or something."
Emily paused mid-sip, her wings twitching as her eyes widened slightly. "Wait, do you think—?"
"No," Charlie interrupted, shaking her head quickly. "Rosie wouldn't do that. Her tea is just... really good. She's refined. Classy. I think it's just normal ingredients—well, as normal as anything in Hell can be."
Emily relaxed, leaning her chin on her hand. "Good. Because if I found out this was cursed tea or something, I'd cry. It's too good to give up."
Charlie smiled warmly. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. Maybe we can come back here every once in a while. Make it a little tradition."
Emily perked up at that, her wings fluttering again. "Now that is a great idea. A tea day! Fancy tea with my favorite people. We can dress up, make it a whole thing."
Vaggie rolled her eye, though her lips twitched in amusement. "I'm not wearing anything with lace or ribbons."
"Boo," Emily teased. "You're no fun. You also have a large red Ribbon in your hair right now, but we won't discuss that."
Charlie laughed softly, her golden gaze flicking between her partners. "You don't have to dress up, Vaggie. But I do like the idea of coming back here now and then. Rosie's shop really is special."
Charlie's gaze drifted over to the corner booth, watching Rosie and Alastor with a curious eye.
"I wonder what they're talking about," Charlie murmured, her gaze flicking between Rosie and Alastor. "Rosie's always been so kind, but... she has this presence, doesn't she?"
"She's sharp," Vaggie replied, her voice lowering. "Not in a bad way—at least not yet—but there's a reason Cannibal Town listens to her. Alastor wouldn't be here chatting if he didn't think she was useful."
Emily leaned forward, an impish grin tugging at her lips. "She seems… intelligent. I'd bet my halo theres at least a half dozen escape routes from this shop."
Charlie blinked, startled. "Emily!"
"What? It's practical." Emily shrugged, taking a sip of tea. "Besides, in Hell, backup plans are basically mandatory."
Rosie's voice rose slightly, cutting through their chatter. "It's all about territory, darling," she said, her tone honeyed but firm. "Balance is key. Upset one piece of the puzzle, and the whole city might crumble—or combust." She smiled, showing sharp teeth. "But I'm sure you know that, Alastor."
Alastor chuckled, tipping his head in a mock bow. "Why, my dear Rosie, I wouldn't dare question your wisdom. Though I must admit," he added, glancing briefly at the trio seated nearby, "it seems our younger companions have taken a liking to your hospitality."
Rosie turned, her pitch-black eyes shimmering with amusement. "Charlie, dear," she called warmly, her voice laced with genuine delight. "How is the tea?"
Charlie straightened in her chair. "It's wonderful, Rosie! Thank you again for having us."
Rosie inclined her head graciously. "Of course, my darling. It's been a delight having you. Though," she added, a sly smile curling her lips, "your friend Emily seems quite curious about my décor. I hope it's not... unsettling."
Emily grinned, utterly unbothered. "It's fantastic. I mean, I've got questions—like, is that hat stand decorative or alive?—but hey, it's your vibe."
Rosie laughed, a melodious sound that seemed to fill the room. "Perhaps both. You know, Emily, you remind me of someone I knew long ago—spirited, bold. A touch reckless." Her smile softened. "It's refreshing."
Emily tilted her head. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Alastor's grin sharpened, his voice cutting through the light atmosphere like a blade. "Oh, it was absolutely a compliment... though I wonder if our dear Rosie's compliments come with strings."
Rosie's gaze flicked back to him, unperturbed. "Only if you're foolish enough to tangle yourself in them." Her tone was sweet, but the edge was undeniable.
The air grew quiet for a beat before Charlie, ever the peacemaker, leaned forward with a smile. "Well, either way, this tea shop is amazing, and we're lucky to be here." She gestured subtly to Emily, hoping to curb further teasing.
Rosie chuckled, letting the tension dissipate. "Thank you, Charlie. I do try to make my guests feel... at home."
Charlie swirled her tea absentmindedly, her golden eyes glancing around Rosie's emporium. The soft hum of chatter and clinking porcelain provided a rare moment of calm. Emily, however, seemed far from calm, balancing her teacup precariously on her spoon while grinning at Vaggie.
"I'm just saying," Emily started, her voice light and mischievous, "new trust exercises could be fun."
Vaggie gave her a deadpan look, setting her own cup down with a measured clink. "Emily, last time you said something was 'fun,' Husk ended up locked in a closet with Niffty for two hours. He still flinches when she tries to clean near him."
"Okay, but that wasn't a trust exercise," Emily shot back, wagging a finger. "That was a 'learn to love your coworkers' activity, and it worked! Sort of. Husk almost didn't strangle her."
Charlie laughed softly, shaking her head. "Maybe we could try something smaller this time. Something... less chaotic?"
"Less chaotic?" Emily pouted dramatically. "Where's the fun in that?"
Vaggie leaned forward, her magenta eye narrowing. "Emily, the point of trust exercises is to build teamwork. Not... whatever it is you're describing."
Emily leaned back, crossing her arms with a huff. "Fine. Then let's hear your version of a trust exercise."
"Simple," Vaggie replied, holding up a finger. "Pairing residents up for small tasks. Things they can handle together—like cleaning, cooking, or organizing the front desk."
"Wow," Emily deadpanned. "You're right. That's wild."
Charlie giggled, stirring her tea. "It doesn't have to be boring. We could do something creative, like a group project. Maybe decorating common spaces or making something for the hotel."
Vaggie nodded, her expression softening. "That could work. It keeps things low-stakes but still helps everyone feel involved."
Emily perked up, her grin returning. "Oh! What if we do a scavenger hunt? Hide some funky little trinkets around the hotel and have everyone team up to find them. Winner gets... I don't know, free room service for a week?"
Charlie tilted her head thoughtfully. "A scavenger hunt could be fun. But we'd have to make sure everyone actually participates. Some of the residents are still... a little standoffish."
"Like Gorrik," Vaggie muttered, rolling her eyes. "or Hell, Angel. He'd probably just sit at the bar and let his partner do all the work."
"Or flirt with them," Emily added, smirking. "Which, honestly, could still count as bonding."
Before Charlie could respond, a snippet of conversation from across the room caught her ear.
"Really, Rosie," Alastor's smooth voice drawled, tinged with static. "You're worrying over nothing. These 'sightings' are hardly cause for alarm."
Rosie's reply was quieter but firm. "It's odd, Alastor. Dead demons don't just show up again without reason. Something about this doesn't feel right."
Charlie glanced toward their table, her curiosity piqued. Vaggie followed her gaze but quickly looked away. "Don't," she said under her breath. "You'll just end up stressing yourself out."
"But—" Charlie started.
"They're talking about something local," Vaggie cut in, her tone firm. "It's Rosie's business. Let her handle it."
At the corner table, Alastor let out a sharp laugh. "My dear Rosie, how many times have we thought Vox was out of the picture, only for him to slither back like a bad penny? It's Hell. People don't always die when they should. You should know that by now."
Rosie sighed, her fingers drumming lightly on the table. "Maybe you're right. But I'm still keeping an eye on it."
Charlie blinked as Vaggie reached out and tapped the rim of her teacup, pulling her attention back to their conversation. "Hey," Vaggie said. "Focus. What were you saying about group projects?"
Charlie hesitated, glancing between Vaggie and Emily before nodding. "Right. I think the scavenger hunt idea could work if we make it fun enough to draw everyone in. We'd need to be careful about teams, though. Pairing up the wrong people could cause more tension."
"Like Angel and Husk," Vaggie muttered.
Emily snickered. "Or Alastor and... literally anyone."
Charlie sighed, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Okay, so we'll pair people who balance each other out. Husk with Niffty, maybe, since he can keep her on task."
"And Angel with someone who can keep him off everyone else," Vaggie added dryly.
Emily grinned. "Oh, I call dibs on Angel. I'd totally win."
Vaggie groaned. "This isn't about winning, Emily."
"Isn't it, though?" Emily teased, leaning back with a smug grin. "Trust exercises, scavenger hunts, team-building—they're all just code for friendly competition."
Charlie shook her head with a laugh. "Let's just make sure it stays friendly. We don't need anyone starting a feud over who found the most clues."
As their conversation shifted back to logistics, Rosie and Alastor's voices faded into the background, leaving the trio to their planning. For now, the focus was on the hotel and its residents—a small but meaningful step toward something better.
The crimson haze of Hell's eternal sky cast a deep glow over the winding streets of Pentagram City as Charlie, Vaggie, and Emily left the boundaries of Cannibal Town. Rosie had waved them off with a warm smile and a reminder to visit again soon, her elegant silhouette disappearing behind the doors of her emporium as they stepped back into the chaos of the city.
Emily floated lazily above them, her six white wings spreading wide as she glided just out of earshot. Her periwinkle gown fluttered lightly in the warm, sulfurous air, the tiara-like spikes of her halo gleaming faintly against the crimson backdrop. She tilted her head back, letting the currents carry her as her silver hair rippled behind her like a comet's tail.
Below her, Charlie walked side by side with Vaggie, their footsteps tapping softly against the cracked pavement. The streets bustled with typical demonic activity—bartering, shouting, the occasional fight breaking out in an alley—but the trio moved largely unnoticed, the chaos parting like a natural tide.
"She looks so... peaceful up there," Charlie murmured, glancing up at Emily with a faint smile. "Like she doesn't have a care in the world."
Vaggie glanced up briefly, her magenta eye narrowing slightly. "She should come down before someone gets ideas. Flying around with wings like that in the middle of Pentagram City? She's practically asking to get shot at."
Charlie chuckled softly. "She can handle herself, Vaggie. Besides, it's nice to see her so relaxed. Things have been... tense lately."
Vaggie crossed her arms, her gaze flickering toward the towering skyline ahead. "Tense is putting it lightly. Between the hotel renovations, dealing with Alastor, and trying to keep everyone from killing each other, I'm surprised she hasn't burned out."
"I think she thrives on it," Charlie said, her smile widening. "She's always been so full of energy. Honestly, I don't know how she does it."
"By turning everything into a joke," Vaggie muttered, though her tone softened. "Still, I'll give her credit. She keeps things... lighter."
Charlie nodded, her golden eyes thoughtful. "We need that, don't we? Someone who can remind us not to take things too seriously all the time."
"Maybe," Vaggie admitted. "But that doesn't mean she gets to float around like a target." She raised her voice slightly, calling up to Emily. "Hey! Are you going to come down, or are you waiting for someone to throw a shoe at you?"
Emily rolled onto her back mid-air, grinning down at them. "Why? Afraid I'm going to get snatched by some demon thief? Please, I'm too sparkly for that."
"More like too annoying," Vaggie shot back, though there was a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
Emily laughed, the sound light and melodic. "Oh, come on, Vaggie. You should try flying sometime. It's very therapeutic! Great for the nerves."
"I'll stick to walking," Vaggie replied dryly. "Thanks."
Charlie tilted her head, still watching Emily with a thoughtful expression. "Do you miss it?" she asked suddenly. "Flying, I mean. In Heaven."
Emily paused, hovering mid-air as her expression softened. "I think... sometimes, yeah," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "It was different there—lighter, calmer. Like the air itself was happy. Here, it's always heavy. You have to work twice as hard to stay in the air."
Charlie nodded, a faint flicker of understanding crossing her features. "But you still choose to be here," she said softly. "Even with all the chaos."
Emily smiled warmly, her blue-sclera eyes meeting Charlie's. "Of course I do. I believe in you, Charlie. In the hotel, in everything you're trying to do. And honestly?" She twirled mid-air, her gown flaring slightly. "It's kind of fun down here. Messy, but fun."
"Messy is one way to put it," Vaggie muttered, though her tone lacked its usual bite. She glanced at Charlie. "You're lucky to have her around, you know. Even if she drives me crazy."
Charlie's smile grew, her gaze flicking between Emily and Vaggie. "I know. I'm lucky to have both of you."
Emily floated down closer, her feet barely skimming the ground as she landed gracefully beside them. "Aw, is this a feelings moment?" she teased, wrapping her arms dramatically around both Charlie and Vaggie. "Because I love feelings moments."
"Let go," Vaggie grumbled, trying to pry Emily off. "I'm not in the mood."
"Too bad," Emily quipped, her grin wide and teasing as she took to the sky again. "Because this is what trust looks like, Glarebear. You're welcome."
As they made their way through the winding streets of Pentagram City, Emily floated higher into the crimson sky, her silver hair glinting faintly as her wings spread wide, catching the faint heat of Hell's currents. She drifted lazily, letting herself rise above the noise of the streets, her figure growing smaller against the towering skyline.
Charlie's gaze followed her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watched Emily glide so effortlessly. She had always been captivated by Emily's lightness, both in personality and presence—like she carried her own pocket of Heaven wherever she went.
Vaggie's voice broke through her thoughts, low and teasing. "She's waiting for you to make a move, you know."
Charlie blinked, startled. She turned to Vaggie, her cheeks already tinting with a faint blush. "What? What do you mean?"
Vaggie gave her a knowing look, crossing her arms as they continued walking. "Oh, come on, Charlie. Don't play innocent. You know exactly what I mean."
"I... I don't," Charlie stammered, her wings twitching slightly as her golden eyes darted back toward Emily, now a glimmering silhouette above them. "What are you talking about?"
Vaggie sighed, though her smirk betrayed her amusement. "She's waiting for you to step up. You've been... hesitant. And after the way you—let's say—'established dominance' the other night, she's expecting you to, I don't know, take the lead."
Charlie's blush deepened, her steps faltering as she looked at Vaggie in shock.
Vaggie rolled her eye, though the teasing lilt in her voice didn't waver. "Charlie, you practically held her by the wrists when you told her she needed to listen to you. Don't think I didn't notice how she looked at you afterward. And now, she's waiting for you to... well, do something about it."
Charlie's mouth opened and closed as she struggled to find the words. "I—I wasn't trying to do anything like that! I was just... trying to set the record straight. That's all."
"Sure," Vaggie drawled, her smirk widening. "But that's not how she took it. She's been floating around you, watching you like a lovesick angel ever since. And honestly, Charlie? You need to get your butt in gear before she starts thinking you're not interested."
"I am interested!" Charlie exclaimed, her voice a frantic whisper. "I just... I don't know how to—this is all so new for me."
"New?" Vaggie raised an eyebrow. "Charlie, we've been in this throuple for three months now. Three months. Emily and I have already had sex, due to your date plans. " She said, a sly grin tugging at her lips.
Charlie's wings drooped slightly, her cheeks burning as she looked anywhere but at Vaggie. "I know that. I just... I don't want to rush anything. I want to make sure she's comfortable."
"Charlie," Vaggie said, her tone softening slightly, though the teasing glint in her eye remained. "She's very comfortable. She's practically throwing herself at you, and you're over here worrying about whether or not she's ready. Trust me, she's ready. Hell, if you don't step up soon, she's going to become just my girlfriend."
Charlie froze, her eyes wide as she stared at Vaggie in panic. "What? No! That's not—she wouldn't... would she?"
Vaggie chuckled, her expression smug. "Relax, I'm joking. Mostly. But seriously, Charlie, Emily adores you. She's waiting for you to show her that you feel the same way. And if you keep holding back, she might start to think you don't.
Charlie bit her lip, her hands fidgeting nervously. "I do feel the same way. I just... I don't know how to show it."
Vaggie reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Just be honest with yourself. Throw her down on the bed, rip that dress off of her and ravage her."
Charles cheeks slowly flushed deeply, her wings extending against her will as she glanced up at Emily, who was still floating high above them, her wings outstretched as she twirled lazily in the air.
"And.. you won't be upset? Pinkie promise..?"
"I won't be upset." Vaggie said, rolling her eye. "I may even be interested in watching.." She said, biting her bottom lip at Charlie playfully.
A small, determined smile tugged at Charlie's lips even as her cheeks flushed darkly. "Okay," she said softly. "I'll try."
"Good," Vaggie replied, her tone warm but teasing. "Because if you don't, I'm not above giving her my attention. And trust me, she wouldn't complain."
Charlie let out a flustered laugh, shaking her head as they continued down the street. Her heart pounded in her chest, but beneath the nervous energy, there was a flicker of excitement. For all her hesitation, she couldn't deny how much Emily meant to her—or how ready she was to finally show it.