Gonna keep doing these little shticks at the beginning, for no reason in particular. "I love those dear hearts and gentle people…."
Immediately after The Courier knocked, a shriek was heard, followed by the door swinging open. While The Courier was tall, at around 6'1, he was above average height, but the woman, who was dressed in a red blazer with a white undershirt and black slacks, with blonde hair, had a slight height advantage over him. He had a very strong impulse to remark on that, but he chose not to.
She opened her mouth to say something, before she paused, looking down at the armored stranger before her, it was pretty obvious this guy wasn't from around here. She also wondered why he carried a sniper on his back, one that was modified. He looked rough around the edges to her, as she struggled to find something to say, a bit taken aback. The Courier decided to grab the bull by the horns.
The Courier cleared his throat now, a bit nervous, but he forced it aside. "Your uh…establi-" The Courier was cut off by the stranger.
"Hotel! well it's… more like a rehab, therapy center!" she smiles, tensing up and wildly waving her hands, not knowing what to do with them, as she placed them behind her back, hoping her smile would help get the point across.
"…right. As I was saying, I…shit." He chuckled nervously now, feeling as if he wasn't leaving a great impression already. He couldn't really think of the right words to say, but the stranger got the idea pretty quickly.
"Oh wait, let me guess, you're here to be rehabilitated?" She looked starry-eyed as she shook the courier's hand in excitement, before pulling back realizing that her nervous jubilance had made the Courier visibly uncomfortable, as he moved to a defensive pose, fidgeting.
"...Sorry." She said quietly, pulling back her excitement fearing having gone too far and making things awkward with The Courier.
"We're always open to sinners!" She smiled sweetly hoping the offer would hopefully make things less awkward and pointed to a bar, with, with the word "concierge" shown above the bar. It also was a casino, due to a "jackpot sign" near it.
There was a cat behind the bar, with dark fur covering most of his body, with white fur outlining and filling his face & chest in a tuxedo pattern, along with a black top hat, with the added benefit of wings, stood behind the counter. The familiar smell of cheap liquor hitting him immediately, the receptionist's breath and stormy disposition reminded him of the alcoholics on The Strip, and was not unlike a Centaur Mutant, in the sense that he was a hybrid creature. The Courier nodded at the receptionist, who nodded drunkenly back.
"..." The Courier opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, as he decided to not say anything, fearing that he would screw things up if he spoke any further, due to having the charisma of a Misanthrope. The strange demon noticed this, but decided to move on in order to continue the tour.
"Now, if you'll follow me inside…" The strange demon turned now, walking into the hotel, as The Courier followed her in, closing the doors behind him. He noticed the lobby was huge yet in disarray, but said nothing, as he eyed up the various paintings on the walls. The Courier thought that should he spend more time here, this seemed like something he could fix…eventually, once he got used to being in Hell.
"So what did you do to get sent to Hell?" The Courier tensed at that, due to this confirmation of his fears of being in hell, one that only the dead roamed, yet he was…not dead. The stranger, noticing his tensing, took it as guilt and shame for the supposed actions he dare not mention.
"Don't worry, whenever you're comfortable tell me, the doors always open.", said the kind stranger, supposing that The Courier's unease was because of his actions. As The Courier attempted to hide his unease, the stranger walked over to the bar/reception center, grabbing a clipboard, giving it to The Courier.
"Just sign your name here please." She smiled yet again, as The Courier took the clipboard and wrote his name on the signing list in cursive: "Courier 6". He also noticed another name on there: "Angel Dust". The Courier wondered why someone would name themselves that.
"Courier 6…? Haven't heard a name like that before." She paused, quickly reading over the odd name in her head. "Well, good to meet you, Courier 6." She said as she put the clipboard down.
The Courier just nodded at the stranger, who decided to press the matter on the persistent silence of her new guest.
"You okay? You're pretty…quiet." The Courier nodded once again, as he kept looking around the lobby, taking in the scenery of his (hopefully) temporary home.
"Well then, I should probably tell you about the staff." She said as her voice returned to an energetic tone, as The Courier turned to face her , curious.
"First off, there's me, the owner in all her glory, Charlie!" The Courier nodded.
"-Then there's Alastor, our patron-" The Courier tuned her out, getting lost in his thoughts. Knowing he would have to interact with the other guests, it was an endeavour that made him nervous, but he forced his anxiety down. Charlie finished now, as The Courier tuned back into his surroundings.
"-and that's all of them! Interesting bunch aren't they?" The Courier nodded, pretending that he had paid attention the whole time. Charlie clapped her hands together as The Courier looked at her.
"Now, how about we get you to your room?" The Courier yet again nodded.
"Great, now if you will follow me…" She turned now, walking off towards an elevator with the Courier following her. They both stepped into the elevator, with Charlie pressing the 2nd floor button. The doors closed, as a staticky jazz tune filled the elevator. Both of them said nothing, as Charlie twiddled with her fingers. Moments pass, and a ding is heard, the doors opening.
"Here we are." She stepped out now, as she led The Courier to a random room: 204. Charlie grabbed a key from a crowded keyring, as she unlocked the door now, opening it to reveal…an adequate room. Upon further inspection, the room was dusty, with the curtains being a grayish color, streaked with stains of what seemed to be dried blood. The sheets on the bed were nothing special, with some tacky paintings on the walls, crooked. The Courier walked in now, examining an antique lamp closely, noticing some of the wires were loose. He sat on a chair now, with Charlie following him over to give him his room key.
"Enjoy!" She smiled, turning to leave before stopping mid-step, "Oh! I want you in the lobby in the morning, just so the others can meet you."
She closed the door gently behind, as The Courier was left to ponder how he was going to properly introduce himself to the others. The Courier pulled out his Ranger Sequoia revolver from his hip, as he unloaded the bullets from the chamber and spun it as he mulled over his predicament.
He wondered how he intended to get by in Hell. Perhaps he could get a job here at the hotel, maybe as a guard? His thoughts drifted onto how he was gonna escape Hell, if that was even possible.
Snapping out of his contemplation, he loaded the bullets back into the chamber and made sure to put the safety on, before placing it on the bedside table. He decided to keep his clothes on, mainly because he was used to it, he closed his eyes, feeling the pulls of sleep wash over him.
I STRUGGLED with this chapter due to various reasons, so please excuse anything of poor quality. I also am experimenting with the dialogue and other factors, so that's why things are different from the first 2 chapters.