Any sign of news concerning the complete eradication of Overlords Velvet, Sinestra, Mesozoa , and demi-lord Boltaire came days after the fact, when allies came to their places of business and found them empty. Scoured of any and all evidence that it was even once a focal point.
In during this time, Charlie received no fewer than ten calls from her father, all of which were ignored. The hurt of basically being barred from her childhood home still stung fresh on her mind and heart, and she didn't want to have to deal with reopening that wound. Not yet.
The wound was tended over with some InstaSin pictures from Angel Dust's account, showing mostly close-up selfies with Alastor candid in the background either mixing a drink or preparing food, and somewhat saucy one of Alastor obviously asleep in bed, Angel taking a peace-sign selfie next to Alastor's bare back which had very telling claw marks. The only caption was a winky-face emoji but for some reason it made Charlie laugh until she cried.
It was just so surreal, seeing something so Angel-like from the spider demon she picked up when she first pitched the Hotel idea and having a mental timeline of everything that happened since then fly over her mind. So much, in so short a time period. Angel Dust had gone from a gutter-mouthed emotionally-closed brat to an overlord. Alastor came into the Hotel wanting nothing but entertainment for himself and found companionship and happiness instead.
Maybe Angel was right, she thought as she thumbed through her phone to look back at pictures of the wedding. If not a place of full redemption, then a place where a demon could find themselves outside of where their sins merely placed them. Where they could improve themselves as people before trying for anything as reaching as full redemption. It was a good first step, she thought, sitting back with a smile. This wedding was evidence that Angel Dust and Alastor HAD managed to change for the better.
When this first began, at no point would she have this picture she was looking at, of herself, Alastor, and Angel in a big selfie pic she didn't even have to beg to take of them. The smiles were genuine, the brightness in everyone's eyes real and loving. Even if it was just providing the Hotel itself, she felt that she played a part in their love story, and she was honored by the fact.
It was just sad now, that they wouldn't be here every day. They both had a lot of work to do now, improvements to make in their respective territories, and they were starting their own lives together. At least, she thought, putting her phone down, they would continue to be the pillars of support they had been, and swore to always be.
Angel Dust hummed to himself as he lounged on the seat, looking through his messages when a new one popped up, making his eyes brighten. "Oh-ho."
Alastor looked up from stirring something in a pot. "Something interesting, dear?" he called over his shoulder. Angel sat up, grinning.
"You could say that," he replied, sitting back to cross his legs. "The Overlord Summit invitations are out." He huffed a little. "It's only sent to me. Rude of them not to send out a couple's invite, because I KNOW they know we're married."
"Don't feel bad 'bout it, sha," Alastor said. "They stopped sendin' 'em to me years ago. I only know 'bout 'em because o' dear Rosie."
"I didn't feel like going." Alastor ladled out two bowls of his stew. "I never cared much for all th' pomp an' networkin' an' all tha'. I was in it for th' fun." He carried the food over, setting the bowls down on the table. "Didn't get serious 'bout it, really, 'til recently."
"Sounds fair." Angel sat back, eating his food thoughtfully. "So what should we wear?"
"Whatever we want, mon ange, we've got no one t' really impress."
"True." Angel smiled. "Still gotta let 'em know who's Boss."
"You're such a drama queen."
"Al, I'm THE drama queen. An' you married me, so there."
Alastor laughed. "That I did." He started in on his own meal. "We'll figure somethin 'out."
"Tail end of our honeymoon too, th' bastards. They'll pay for that."
"It's fine, sha."
The Overlord Summit. A once-a-year meeting extended to any and all overlords to join together in a ceasefire of any conflict and speak about possible cooperation and territorial rights.
A meeting that was going to be down five known overlords and officially presenting one new.
As per tradition, the Summit was held in the state room of Lucifer's palace, where each overlord could bring one second-in-command or servant of their own choosing, including demi-lords who had probable means of either attaining overlord protection and business, or were in serious running to become an overlord themselves. They all arrived at the specified time, seating themselves accordingly when shown to the state room, and looked on in either distaste or apathy at the five places that would not be fit to be filled anytime soon.
Lucifer sat at the head of the table, hands folded in front of his mouth as he kept his own displeasure of the situation to himself. He heard snippets of the other overlords taking bets over whether or not Angel Dust or even Alastor would be coming to the meeting, the latter of whom hadn't attended even one since his tenure as overlord.
Either way, start time came and went, and it had to start with or without them.
He stood up to address everyone when the door opened again, the sound of static hissing in the room as two figures walked in.
Angel Dust strolled in first, wearing a black pantsuit with a strapless corset top under an oversized black coat lined with pink fur, sharp stilettos cracking with each step on the floor. His eyes fearlessly perused over everyone, smile as wide and sharp as his husband’s behind him.
Alastor followed, dressed in his usual red suit, though it seemed to be a more modern tailored cut, his antlers extended out to a more noticeable six points and his microphone being slowly twirled between his fingers. He walked to the tail end of the table opposite Lucifer, looking over the empty seats.
“Quite a few missing,” he remarked. “Are we the only ones late?” He snapped his fingers to form another chair next to him rather than have Angel sit on one of the sides of the table, pulling it out for Angel.
Lucifer’s jaw tightened. “No, that particular honor goes exclusively to you two,” he said. “So good of you to finally attend, Alastor.”
Alastor beamed, pushing Angel in before sitting himself down, displacing his microphone as he did so. “Well I very well couldn’t let my dear husband attend his first Summit alone, could I?” he said.
“Yeah, and we might’ve been on time, if ya hadn’t scheduled it durin’ our honeymoon,” Angel Dust put in, leaning back in his chair. “Almost like you was HOPIN’ we wouldn’t come.” His smile went wider. “But we know ya got more class than that.”
“Someone has to,” one of the overlords muttered into his drink. Angel’s smile only widened, leaning his head on his hand.
“Ooh, wuddya mean by that?” Angel asked. “No really, I’m curious. How does everyone here feel about me? I need a baseline assessment for future reference.” He looked around expectantly. “Izzit th’ whole mortal-born thing? I think it’s that.”
“No no,” Alastor chimed in, sipping from a cup of coffee that appeared out of nowhere. “I think it’s you being a prostitute, dear. Not many are willing to admit that someone they paid to have sex with is their equal.”
“In what regard, because if we’re airin’ grievances, I know more than a few who could use some pointers in bed.” He paused. “Ah, no, wait, they’re dead, nevermind. Movin’ on?”
Lucifer scowled. “YES,” he said firmly, trying to keep the fire out of his voice. “Speaking of. The demise of so many overlords by the same one or two demons is definite cause of concern.”
Alastor arched a brow. “I wasn’t aware that two constituted as ‘so many’,” he said. “And it was personal business what caused their demise anyway.” His eyes went sharp. “I for one know that it was borderline criminal for Valentino to have treated an actual incubus as poorly as he did, ESPECIALLY being a purveyor of Lust himself. It wasn’t even ignorance what did it. He knew exactly what Angel Dust was when he made that contract.”
He tapped his clawtips on the table, taking another deliberate sip of coffee.
“And Vox attacked the Hotel. YOUR daughter’s Hotel. A place under MY protection. Attacked ME. Abducted Angel, who was still under MY contract at the time. Any overlord worth his salt wouldn’t let that go unpunished. So I ask you...which of their deaths was the most concerning?”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “The deaths of Overlords Velvet, Sinestra, and Mesozoa, and of Demi-Lord Boltaire.” The ‘as if you didn’t already know’ being left up in the air but definitely implied.
“Oh, them.” Alastor looked to Angel, his smile completely neutral. “Had no hand in that. You?”
“I didn’t touch ‘em,” Angel replied with a shrug. “I’ve been too busy gettin’ married an’ fuckin’ my husband to do any killin’ recently.”
Lucifer almost hissed. “Ridiculous,” he said. “I know for a fact that you had your hands in it!”
“Now now, Luci,” Stolas spoke up from the side, looking endlessly amused at the married overlords’ banter. “If you wanted to make this Summit a trial, you should have at least told us.” He laced his claws together, resting his head on them. “But let’s say this WAS a trial. Circumstantial evidence on them entirely, isn’t it? After all, their wedding and honeymoon pictures are well documented, and the late overlords in passing were noted troublemakers.” His eyes took on an almost sadistic gleam. “Are you certain you’re not speaking from hurt, dear cousin? I know they were your friends.”
“Of course you’d play devil’s advocate for the whore,” a skull-headed overlord snapped at Stolas. “What, imps aren’t enough for you?”
Stolas clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “Darling, NO ONE is enough for me,” he replied. “But I also don’t let my emotions get in the way of what SHOULD be justice. I’m a connoisseur of information as well as a hobbyist of pleasures of the flesh. I’m not bound to staring at a fire trying to divine what can be easily undone.”
Angel flicked open a lighter, using it to light up a cigarette at the end of his holder. “And ‘the whore’ is right here an’ can be directly spoken to, jackass,” he said, flicking the lighter shut. “Creative insult, by th’ way. You talk to th’ Queen with that mouth too when addressin’ th’ succubi?”
He took a long drag from the end of the holder. “Besides. I’ll swear it on blood right now. I didn’t touch th’ damn overlords yer accusin’ me of. Because I was too damn busy havin’ an actual LIFE.”
Alastor beamed, finishing off his coffee. “Afterlife, dear.”
“Semantics. Is this all these meetings are, because if that’s th’ case, I’m sorry I dragged you outta bed for it, Al.” He gave the rest of them a sweeping glare, pinning the harshest of it on Lucifer. “Seriously. All th’ time in Hell to pull this shit, and it’s when I’m tryin’ to enjoy my honeymoon. If I wanted t’ have a goddamn board meetin’, I’d have one in th’ two companies I’m runnin’.” He paused. “Three, sorry, forgot I’m pullin’ liaison duties with Charlie too, THAT’S another full-time gig.”
He polished off his cigarette with a sigh. “I might just be ‘the whore’ to most o’ ya, but I’m a whore who’s got actual work t’ do. Shit, I probably did more work back suckin’ dick on an average Thursday than most o’ ya’s still do. So before I gotta get back t’ that, you bet yer ancient asses I’m not gonna spend what remains o’ my vacation here.” He stood up, tossing his hair. “C’mon Al.”
Alastor stood up, summoning his microphone with a flourish of his hand. “Well, I’m certainly glad to see I’ve missed absolutely nothing these past decades!” he said cheerfully. “Yes, I would much rather be having sex with my husband. And for someone like me, that’s actually saying something!”
“Glad it’s good for you too, ya damn weirdo,” Angel said, looping two arms though Alastor’s before looking over his shoulder. “So, yeah, it goes without sayin’, but stay th’ fuck outta our turf or I’ll fuckin’ kill ya. Arrivederci, ya boring fucks.”
The two headed out of the room, Lucifer barely managing to avoid smiting them where they were, his mood definitely not helped by Stolas laughing himself into a fit.
He took several breaths to calm himself before signaling in for drinks, and giving out mental orders to keep a close, almost invasive eye on those two.
"Capo primo, this is Padre Ragno. Is everything ready?"
"Si. Everything. All that is left is the okay from our bambine and Nobildonna, and then it's all yours."
"Primo Torre all set up?"
"Isn't it always?"
"Smartass. Cervo Principe says hi."
"Yes, I know, he's been putting shitty music into my headset all night. Look you deer asshole, I know you can hear me, knock it off, I never liked Dean Martin!"
"That's a damn lie, you're always singin' 'Ain't That a Kick in th' Head' -"
"I'll show you a kick in th' head. Capo primo, going on standby."
Angel smiled, looking at Alastor who was holding his microphone tightly in his hands, disregarding the conversation and staring out the window with a wide-eyed, hungry expression like the starving beast he truly was at the moment. Nothing was more beautiful to Angel than seeing Alastor like this. Raw, primal hunger, teeth bared in a smile with uncouth salivation and a flush of excitement like rouge on his cheekbones, ready and waiting to tear into his newest meal.
He was unable to contain himself, curling two of his hands around Alastor's middle and feeling the almost empty hollowness in the deer's abdomen, forever a testament to his neverending gluttony. "I know we're about to go eat, babe," he purred, nuzzling Alastor's head, "but I think a little treat won't ruin yer appetite, would it?"
A growl that came from the pit of that empty stomach was all the warning Angel had before he was thrown back against the couch, claws tearing into his abdomen as his husband took the edge off of his hunger. He laughed, burying his hands into Alastor's hair as the deer ate right from the source, not minding at all Alastor's ravenous appetite.
He'd have his own meal soon enough.