A chaotic sound echoing from outside the hotel’s front door rattles Alastor’s room and interrupts his breakfast, his favorite form of self-care. The deer carcass falls to the floor in a pile and maggots crawl out along the carpet. He sighs loudly and melts out of his chair, reappearing in the lobby a moment later.
The wall was once again blown up, this time by some thugs who thought it was funny to bother the hotel residents during breakfast.
“Hey dumb cunts,” a feminine voice with an Australian accent calls from the dining room, “What the fuck was that for?”
A gaggle of teenagers hobble through the hole in the wall.
“Ah the delinquency of youth,” Alastor exclaims excitedly. “What a pleasant surprise!”
“What the fuck are you talking about old man?” One of the teens, a shark demon, spits as he asks the belligerent question. “And why do you sound like that?”
“Oh dear,” Alastor replies. “You must be new here.”
The teen lowers the knife he was brandishing, his face twisting in confusion.
“Al,” Vaggi says from above, holding out her spear towards the gang of teens. “You’ve got this?”
“These children shouldn’t be much to deal with at all my dear! Please,” Alastor coos, “Return to breakfast, I shall join you shortly. And do tell Cherri that she need not worry her little head about the wall. It wasn’t her fault… this time.”
Vaggi nods and flies back to the door of the dining room, but does not enter. If anything goes wrong, she’d have Alastor’s back.
The teens were whispering to each other, one gesturing wildly with a gun.
“Welcome, troubled ones,” Alastor introduces, “To the Hazbin Hotel! Your misguided route to redemption. Have you decided to check in with us or are you here to just waste my time?”
Five sets of bewildered eyes lock onto the Radio Demon, who stands before them with both hands atop his radio staff and an annoyed smile across his lips.
“We don’t need to tell you anything you old fuck,” the knife-weilding leader called out. “Where is Rooster?”
“Rooster,” the leader groans, “Can’t you hear me goddamnit?”
“Oh, I can certainly hear you,” Alastor drawls. “It’s a matter of if I care, and I simply could not deign to.”
Alastor’s eyes narrow at the group and he holds back a sigh. Whatever their reasons for being here, they must leave now.
“Oh shut up,” the leader shouts and makes his way across the atrium.
Alastor releases his sigh and a shadow appears in front of the leader, stopping him in his tracks.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Alastor coos. “You see, interrupting my breakfast was bad enough. Interrupting Charlie’s breakfast? Well, then I would have to kill you.”
“David, come back,” one of the other teens shouts. “Don’t you know who that is? It’s the Radio Demon! We have to go!”
“Shut up Arnold! You’re such a pussy,” David calls back. “We need our money.”
In a flash, Alastor appears in front of him.
“You should listen to your friend,” Alastor murmurs. “It would be better for all of you if you leave now. I’d like to return to my breakfast.”
David scowls and pushes past Alastor.
The second his hand grazes Alastor’s coat, a wall of blood explodes in his face.
He looks down and screams. His arm is gone.
“I really wish that it hadn’t come to this, now I have to go to the dry cleaner’s,” Alastor exclaims. “Leave. Now.”
David scrambles away and his gang escapes out the hole in the wall.
“You didn’t have to mess with them that much, you know?”
Alastor turns towards Vaggi who leans against the closed doorway.
“I apologize for the mess, but it had to be done,” he states. “I must stop by the cleaner’s before my appointment with Rosie.”
“Don’t worry about it Al,” Vaggi sighs. “Nift has helped get worse out of the carpets. I’ll see you for dinner?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Alastor sings, before turning to walk out the door.
As he passes through the doorway, he waves his staff and the hole in the wall repairs itself with temporary shipboard.
He begins his long walk to cannibal town in high spirits, visiting Rosie is usually quite a delight, with the exceptions of a few tense meetings.
The two are meeting today for afternoon tea and gossip, as well as their weekly shit-talking session. Alastor quite likes Rosie, despite the power imbalance between the two. She makes an effort to treat him well, and he can appreciate that from her.
One good thing about this situation is the fact that Alastor can pick up his new coat from the tailor’s on the way to the dry cleaner’s, giving him a chance to change before tea. Alastor would’ve been quite embarrassed to be seen in such an unruly state in Cannibal Town. Most care very deeply about their appearances there, and propriety is a must.
With a genuine smile across his lips, he hums as he walks through Pentagram City.
His favorite tailor has his new coat ready upon arrival and he slides into the changing room.
He peels off the bloody suit jacket and slips on the new one. Luckily the stains didn’t sink into the shirt below, or touch the arm garters or bow tie, meaning that the new coat is not to be stained by any remaining blood.
“Perfect,” Alastor tells the demon waiting outside of the dressing room as he buttoned the front of the coat. “The color is magnificent as usual.”
“I appreciate the praise, sir,” the tailor says through the curtain, “As I appreciate your patronage of my shop, and that is to say that I am forever grateful.”
“Of course,” Alastor says, straightening his bowtie. “Do you have a bag that I could use to take this extra coat to the dry cleaner’s?”
“Yes, sir,” the man exclaims. “Do you want me to hang it for you?”
“That would be lovely,” Alastor replies, opening the curtain, revealing the look of the new coat to the tailor.
The cut is a little higher than the previous coat, and in a slightly darker shade of fabric that highlights his hair and eyes. The buttons and cufflinks are both gold, highlighting the gold on his new boots. The double breasted closure, suits his thinner waist and highlights his figure.
“You did well,” Alastor compliments the shorter demon. “I do quite like this different fit.”
The man simply bows, the old jacket on a wire hanger and enclosed in a garment bag held in his hand.
“I shall see you the next time I make an appointment,” Alastor says.
The tailor nods and hands off the garment bag as Alastor sinks into shadow, continuing on his route to Rosie’s.
A few minutes of strolling later, he arrives at the dry cleaner’s and hands off his old coat. This specific cleaner was right on the outskirts of Cannibal town, and is one of Alastor’s favorite shops.
“Good to see you sir,” the lady behind the desk calls as he leaves. “It will be ready in a few hours!”
Alastor continues down the street, and as he enters Cannibal Town proper, eyes begin to turn. The new coat is bringing in a significant amount of unexpected attention. It is quite the new fashion in town, but he hadn’t realized that it would elicit such a reaction from the residents.
Even Susan didn’t yell at him as he passed.
All this to say that he was filled with pride in his appearance when he entered Rosie’s tea shop.
When Rosie’s eyes fell across him, she lit up in a smile. With an apology to the demon sitting at her table, she stands and waltzes towards Alastor.
“My my, don’t you look dapper my dear,” she calls. “The new coat suits you quite well. It’s time for our appointment isn’t it?”
“Indeed it is my dear,” Alastor returns, reflecting her infectious energy. “I hope I did not pull you from anything too vital.”
“Come, Alastor, we have much to discuss,” She smiles, and together they walk through a door to a private balcony that overlooks Cannibal Town.
A table and two chairs are set with high tea on the table between.
“What tea have you chosen to try this week?”
“Oh, you know, just a basic black tea,” Rosie exclaims. “Need something a little easy on the lips, because so much else is happening.”
“So I’ve heard,” Alastor replies with a genuine smile. “We have much to discuss, it seems.”
“That we do.” Rosie smiles. "Did you hear about what happened down on 38th and Broad?"
The two sat at the table and spent the next few hours eating and chatting, watching over Cannibal Town as the stars grew brighter and brighter as the day wore into night. The sandwiches were refilled at regular intervals and the conversation flowed, covering all the gossip the two had heard from the week prior.
Soon the time had come for Alastor to return to the hotel, and the two said their goodbyes, and planned the date for their next tea party. Alastor straightened his bowtie, and with a wave to Rosie, left to make the journey back to the hotel for dinnertime.
