"PERFECTIONIST"
•••
"The obviously... long... path of work we have ahead of us, aside," You begin, trailing your gaze from sinner to sinner. "I believe you all owe me introductions, yes?"
The angry woman crosses her arms and turns her head. "Vaggie." She says. You narrow your eyes slightly, but say nothing.
"Hi, I'm Niffty!" Exclaims a tiny woman, short and thin with a singular eye. You flinch as she jumps up onto you, grabbing at your collar and her feet pressing against your stomach. "Are you a bad boy? Hehehe..."
"Hardly." You reply, grabbing her by the nape of her neck and holding her up awkwardly. Charlie giggles nervously and takes her out of your hand.
"I'm Angel Dust, but you can call me whatever you want." The feminine man from before coos, grinning proudly and leaning forward in his seat, putting a hand over the fluff on his chest. The bartender opposite him rolls his eyes, but doesn't speak.
"And I am Alastor, the host of this fine hotel!" Exclaims a man adorned in the most red you've ever seen, stepping forward proudly and grabbing your hand without waiting for you to accept it, shaking it. "A pleasure to meet you! I must say, you are much more serious than I expected. Are angels not supposed to be more... how do you say, wacky and chipper?"
Your eye twitches and you yank your hand out of his, wiping it off on your jacket, making his seemingly permanent smile tighten. "Maybe the others, but I can't afford wacky antics when there's always work to be done. I especially can't partake in such casualty around sinners." You sigh dramatically, looking him up and down. "Not to worry, in any case... I'll have you and everyone else here singing hymns and sprouting halos in no time."
"Ahaha!" The man, Alastor, laughs, and a laughtrack plays from the microphone-staff in his hand. "I have to admit, I didn't expect such a noteworthy figure in Heaven to believe in Charlie's unique vision." He cocks his head to the side with a sickening 'snap', and you scowl. "Are you not afraid that you're wasting your time?"
"Yes, well, whether they're sent to Heaven or not, seeking self-betterment, or in my case, assisting with it, is never a bad idea." You scoff. "You said you're the host? No wonder poor Morningstar has so few guests, I'd hardly call you a welcoming face."
Alastor's eyes narrow and his smile twitches, yet remains plastered to his face.
"We were trying to film a new commercial for Charlie after Alastor butchered the first one." Vaggie explains to you, interrupting the brewing argument. "But as you probably saw from Angel's horny acting, it's not going great."
"Aww, Vaggie, you'd do that for me?" Charlie gasps, squealing and hugging the shorter woman tightly. "That's so sweet!"
"But it isn't working at all! It was supposed to be ready by the time you got here, but Husk won't go off book, Angel keeps sexually harassing him, Alastor isn't any help, and Niffty freezes up on camera!" Vaggie huffs, but leans into Charlie's embrace nonetheless. "And what does 'fix it in post' even mean!?"
You smirk and stretch your arms forward, entwining your fingers and cracking your knuckles. You shrug your shoulders and wave your hand, summoning your mink-engraved staff. "A commercial for the hotel? I think I could help with that. Consider it my first investment." You slam your staff to the ground and a powerful gust of wind blows through the parlor, and when it clears, everyone is wearing pristine white clothing, the women in graceful gowns, the men in posh suits... and you gave Angel Dust's suit a boob-window, just to play into his perceived character thus far.
"Ooh!" Charlie exclaims, looking down at herself and doing a little spin, watching the way the dress flows freely around her knees.
"Oh-ho-ho, dickless is a pervert." Angel Dust teases, pushing his chest up to accentuate the chest fluff that's hanging out of the hole in his suit.
Alastor looks down at his own attire, a sort of static 'screech' playing from his microphone: a truly irritating sound. His eye twitches and he snaps his fingers, changing back into his typical clothing... plus a top hat. He'll play into this a little.
———
You stand off to the side as the others take their seats around the television, huddling around to watch your very first, therefore very best, commercial. With little connectional influence in Hell, you'd had to turn to Alastor to get the commercial to be broadcast so soon, which, surprisingly, took little convincing. Perhaps a part of him was proud of it, too. You'd given him one line of voiceover, himself, after all.
"Welcome to the Hazbin Ho—" Vaggie's voice says on screen, when suddenly the channel flashes and instead, two news reporters take the stage.
Charlie cries in frustration, Niffty giggles jubilantly, Vaggie groans, and you grip your staff tighter than usual. This wouldn't have happened in Heaven.
"Breaking news! The extermination date has been moved up by half, giving us only half a year before the next one! Do you know what that means, Tom?" The female reporter announces, cracking her head to the side with another sickening sound. For the love of all that is Holy, must they do that so often!?
"No, Katie, what does that mean?" Asks the male reporter, presumably, Tom.
"It means we're all royally fucked!" Katie cheers, and you take a quick step forward and shut off the TV.
The reactions from the others are less than pleasant, everyone groaning or complaining, but Charlie gets to her feet swiftly and moves toward you.
"Why didn't you tell me that earlier?" She asks. "You had to have known, right?"
"It hardly seemed important compared to your passion project, here." You shrug, gesturing grandly to the hotel you're in. "Besides, what does it change? With my help, we'll have proof of sinners being redeemed in as little as a few weeks, and the extermination won't take place at all." You chuckle. "And even if this idea of yours fails, dooming you and the souls of your loved ones for decades to come... the extermination won't be a problem so long as I am here at all. Proof or otherwise."
Charlie looks between both of your eyes, then at your body language, then back to your face. "You're not exactly making it easy to trust you with that."
"You don't exactly have a choice." You remind her. "I'm going to be your best bet at making this hotel work. Unless you think that Alastor is better suited? He doesn't even believe this idea will work."
Charlie hesitates, then pouts. "True..." There's a soft hum from his microphone as Alastor clicks his tongue. "And... you are an angel. And you're supporting my cause. So... I forgive you, for now." She declares, puffing out her chest and attempting to seem firmer than she truly is.
"Charlie, he didn't tell you the one thing that could completely make or break our entire plan!" Vaggie argues, moving to stand protectively beside Charlie. "He can't be trusted, angel or not!"
"Wonderful." You smile at Charlie. Your gaze lands on Vaggie, and you walk by the princess and advance toward her lover. "A word?"
Vaggie scowls and rolls her eyes, but she doesn't protest. She follows you until the two of you are out of sight.
You clear your throat and turn to face her. "She doesn't know, does she?" You ask, quirking an eyebrow.
"Know what?" She retorts, looking elsewhere, anywhere, to avoid your gaze.
You sigh. "That you're an exorcist?" You remind her, tapping the head of your staff against your free hand. "Behaving so defensively toward me is a sure fire way to get yourself caught. While I'm sure Morningstar wouldn't care, if you don't want her knowing, you shouldn't act so familiarly with the right-hand of God."
Vaggie glares at you, crossing her arms. "Excuse me for being worried that the guy that despises her father might be helping Charlie for malicious reasons."
"I'm an honest individual." You insist, rolling your eyes. "Sure, her being the spawn of Lucifer is what intrigues me the most, but I do believe this little idea of hers can work. With angelic help, of course." You smirk a little, proud of your own abilities. "If an angel can fall, a demon should be able rise, logically. I want to know if that's the case. Consider it an experiment on my part. The exterminations are hardly the righteous way to handle overpopulation, but unfortunately, there are few alternatives. I'd love to see this one work, instead."
"If you're so curious, ask the guy yourself." Vaggie says. "Don't fuck with Charlie just because you're curious."
"One doesn't just ask Him a question for the sake of curiosity, Vagina." You spit, scoffing at the mere thought.
"Vaggie."
"Regardless," You move on. "I speak to Him when I am spoken to and I only report the most important of information. I do not, nor does anyone, question Him."
"But—"
"Shush," You put the head of your staff gently to her lips, and she growls. "I am the universe's second most holy spirit. I may be stern, but I'm hardly sinister. I will help this hotel to satiate my own curiosity as to whether or not it can be done, and to provide a more moral solution to overpopulation in this... place. These are my intentions, so there's no confusion." You move the head of your staff to her head and gently bonk her. "Truce, my fallen friend?"
"...Truce." She sighs. "But the second you even think about hurting Charlie..."
"I'd never do that." You snap, and you mean it.
You want to help Lucifer's daughter do the one thing he never could as your own sort of sinful, petty revenge, but you wouldn't dream of harming the poor girl. It isn't her fault her father chose a woman over you— err, God. You want a selfish sense of satisfaction, a small dopamine rush, and that is the extent of any hidden intent you may have. You don't want to hurt anyone. You're not purposefully or meticulously breaking the guy's heart or anything. You're assisting his daughter. If anything, that's a good deed.
In fact, maybe he won't be upset at all, but rather proud that she's managed to revive his goals. You don't care how he actually feels about it, it just feels good to do what he never could.
To be the man he could have been, if he hadn't chosen debauchery.
...To show him who he left behind.
———
You walk into the parlor, squinting your eyes. Your eyebags are particularly heavy, and you hold a cup of warm coffee in your hand. You'd stayed up throughout the night organizing a few basic plans for everyone's path to redemption, and it seems Charlie did the same, as when you walk out, you find her standing in front of a conspiracy board, connecting red string to photos and mumbling under her breath.
"If we do trust exercises every morning..." She whispers hurriedly. You are the final of the group to stumble upon her in this state, as the others are already huddled around her, entranced by her cracking.
"Uh... honey? You okay?" Vaggie asks nervously.
"Yeah! I'm fine! It's just that we have half the time to redeem everyone, but it's okay, we can handle it! And when they cut the time in half again, and again, and again, we'll just handle it! Right!?" Charlie stresses, tugging at her hair.
Vaggie steps forward and grabs her hands. "Yes, we will."
"Don't stress yourself out, Morningstar." You insist, taking a sip of your coffee and averting your gaze. "We'll have sinners being redeemed left and right before the extermination even grows close."
"You look rough." The bartender says. He hasn't introduced himself when you asked, but you'd learned his name to be Husk, based on how the others addressed him. "You didn't sleep either?" He gestures between you and Charlie.
"Uh, no? That's what caffeine is for." You answer matter-of-factly. "Now, everyone, over here." You snap your fingers and a pile of papers materialize in your hand. You begin to hand them out to the others. "Fill these forms out. I hand-crafted them to ask all the most critical questions I need to know to formulate the perfect redemption plans for each of you."
The reactions you're met with are not... fantastic, other than Charlie's little smile. Angel Dust chuckles, and you feel mocked, but soldier on.
Angel Dust giggles to himself, pulling a pen out of his chest fluff and rapidly scribbling stuff down on the paper before handing it to you.
"There is absolutely no possible way that you finished this." You scold, but look down at the paper anyway. "What is this? 'Hobbies: Sucking your'—wha— 'life on earth: 'fucking awesome' what in the holy hell kind of answers are these!?"
"Whaaat? You don't like it? I put lots a' care into that last question." Angel Dust smirks proudly.
The last question on the paper says "ACCOMPLISHMENTS?" but all Angel Dust did was draw a very sloppy, rushed doodle of a pig.
"These aren't answers!" You snap, tossing your arms up in frustration. Your wings unfold, spreading out and arching behind you.
"And that ain't a ticket to Heaven." Angel Dust retorts, pointing at the form.
"You ungrateful devil, can you not see I'm trying to help!?" You groan. "With the chaos caused by the extermination date being changed, I'm sure we can find sinners that actually want to change, so that I don't have to waste my time on—"
You're cut off by a loud explosion, the front wall of the hotel being blown clean off. You grunt, putting your arm over your head to block any potential debris.
"Ahahaha!" Cackles the attacker from inside a tacky steampunk blimp. "It is I, Sir Pentious! Show yourself, Alassstor!"
You glance at your coffee, now ruined by pieces of the ceiling that fell into it. 'He's here for Alastor? Then unless he kills someone, he can be Alastor's problem.' You decide, glancing at the others, who stand in awe. 'He's irritating, but he seems powerful enough. He can handle it. No need to get my clothes dirty.'
Not even a full 24 hours in Hell and you can safely say that sinners are just as exhausting and frustrating as you'd always assumed.