Once the card was accepted, Alastor abruptly snapped out of his bow, slender frame visibly thrumming like a tuning fork that had been struck. At hearing the agreement, not the least bit perturbed with how forced it was; Alastor eagerly praised the other demon.
“Excellent! Glad to see we’re on the same page!” said as his wicked grin receded to a more modest baring of teeth, one that didn’t hinder his ability to speak. He took in a deep breath though, the resulting crackling noise fluctuated as Alastor issued instructions from a dull hum to nearly taking over his own volume.
“Check in is at noon tomorrow. You’ll meet Husker at the front desk. He’s our bartender slash concierge for the time being. Feel free to bother him anytime, he loves to help.” The way he lingered on help might leave room for doubt as to how accommodating their desk clerk might be.
“And of course our hostess will want to shake your hand, be prepared. She might not look it, but Charlie is one spunky gal with a hell of a grip.”
Not that Alastor would know for certain, she had rejected his handshake after all. As far as assumptions go though, he figured that one was harmless if it proved false.
“Nifty will see to fixing your room up to your liking and see to any luggage you might have, though anything taller than about…hmmm…” his right hand lowered, near ground level, “this much, you might have to help her lift.”
Keeping with his motor-mouth momentum, Alastor went on,”There’s is another tenant. Supposedly he’s infamous in certain circles. He’s a very amiable fellow though so I doubt you’ll run into any trouble. And if you do, well given what I was told of his reputation, you might not mind it so much, but I can’t speak for him nor do I want to hear you harassing him.” No word on Angel’s profession or even speculation as to what kind of trouble the spider demon might invite.
It felt like he was forgetting someone. Ah, probably wasn’t important.
“Oh, one more minor detail” the space he had been gradually putting between himself and the axolotl demon was abruptly reduced to zero as Alastor lunged forward, his right arm going around the other demon’s neck in a jovial headlock.
“What are your thoughts on musicals? I hope you love them because our hostess loves to sing, so expect to be pulled into no fewer than three song and dances before your stay is complete.”
Wow this guy talked a lot. At least he was understandable, although Cognac almost found the absolute hurricane of information a bit hard to keep up with. At least his smile went back down to how it was before. The axolotl demon didn’t know how he could deal with having to keep staring at that terrifying display.
Even if it was a bit fast, he tried to keep a mental note of everything he was being told. Lord knows what would happen if he didn’t. And yes, at the certain way the Radio Demon described this ‘Husker’ fellow, Cognac made another mental note to not ask said demon for any form of assistance.
The thought of meeting the princess was a bit weird to him. He wasn’t scared or even nervous, but the idea of meeting royalty was strange. Well he never would have had this chance back in Baton Rouge. He nodded at what he was told. It did make sense. After all, she was the daughter of the literal Devil.
Well, he’d have to carry his own luggage it seemed, but he didn’t own much anyway. Niffty must be... really short or really weak (or both). It was kind of sad, actually. Hearing about the other tenant made Cognac raise an eyebrow though. Who could it be? There were a number of demons that could possibly be ‘infamous’.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” he decided on replying. And it was true, Cognac wasn’t really the type to ‘harass’ people. He normally kept to himself outside of work. ...It just occurred to him how strange it would be to be around others who weren’t coworkers or customers. The thought made him uneasy and he stopped himself before he could grimace.
And then he was asked about... musicals? But not before being headlocked by one of the most feared demons in all nine circles. His muscles somehow grew even more tense and he felt like he was about to pass out. Holy shit. If he gave the wrong answer he was definitely going to get his neck snapped. Cognac could barely process the weirdness of what he was just told.
“Uhhh.. musicals are great.” he found himself stammering once again. “I ain’t done no singing or dancing since I was alive though.” a warning that he was probably awful was for the best, right? Even in life his singing was described as painfully average. The only time he’d ever actually danced was in high school too.
What was he getting himself into by agreeing to all this? Cognac couldn’t help but rethink all his life choices that somehow led up to this moment. In the end he found that he probably deserved it.
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