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The whole point of the hotel was redemption–that anyone can change if given the chance. And Vaggie agreed with Charlie’s dream entirely.
Sometimes she just thought there should be a fucking line in the sand.
The fallen angel paced around in a spare hall, turning her spear over in her hand. She shouldn’t…but that motherfucker took it too damn far. Charlie could handle a lot–yeah, she cried when outright insulted most times, but still, she was tough. So it made Vaggie’s golden blood boil upon seeing some creep trap her against the bar.
Vaggie had lost her shit, threatening the man with her spear before Charlie had forced her to back down. But the image still stirred in her mind.
She thought she may go in this circle of anger for hours, were it not for a voice snapping her out of her mind.
“Well! Somebody seems to be in quite the sour mood this evening.” Alastor chirped, stepping up to Vaggie, smile wide as ever.
“Ugh. Not now, Al.” Vaggie groaned, slamming the butt of her spear into the ground. “Got a lot on my mind.”
“A penny for your thoughts, then?”
“I wouldn’t even accept a hundred dollars.” She turned on her heel, beginning her walk to…well, she wasn’t sure, yet. She just needed to do something.
The footsteps by her side told her Alastor had no intention of leaving her alone. “I couldn’t help but notice your frown was particularly sour!” Alastor started, clearly not caring about the woman who had all the power to strike him dead.
She wouldn't, though. If only for Charlie’s sake. “Why do you care?”
“As the new Hotel Manager, you must put your best foot forward, my dear. All this snarling surely will drive away most of your clientele.”
“Well, the fucking clientele that’s pissing me off should just get out.”
“That seems quite against this place’s motto.”
“I believe just as much as Charlie that anyone can change. I just think a bunch don’t want and don't deserve it.”
From beside her, Vaggie heard Alastor hum. “Fair enough. However, that does not explain the long face.”
He wasn’t going to let this go, was he? “Some asshole groped Charlie, but she’s still all ‘I don’t think he meant it–’”
A screech of static that nearly deafened her made Vaggie cover her ears, turning to yell at Alastor–
Who looked pissed. No, pissed wasn’t even the right word–he looked fucking livid. Antlers extended and eyes black, radio dials ticking. “Could you repeat that, my dear?”
Huh…Vaggie leaned against a wall, eyeing the man suspiciously. “A guest started chatting her up, and then pinned her against the bar and tried to grab…” Her tits, he tried to grab her tits. “...her.” She settled on.
“And Charlotte simply allowed this?” Alastor questioned, turning his head to the side, eyes returning to normal, but keeping that subtle air of rage.
“I pushed him off her, but she told me to apologise.” She threw up her hands. “Fucking apologize! ¿Qué estaba pensando?!”
“Always so forgiving, that girl.”
Vaggie sighed. “Too forgiving when it matters.”
An uncomfortable silence passed between the two of them. Vaggie was about to walk away when Alastor spoke again. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Vaggie blinked. Turning to Al to better try and read his face. “Uh…nothing? Charlie told me–”
“My dear, your loyalty is admirable. But you must grow yourself outside of your beau’s bubble.”
“Elaborate.” Said through gritted teeth, not liking the phrasing the demon was going with.
“You are a lapdog, Vaggie. Yes, of course, you and Charlie are equals, but since the moment you fell from grace, you’ve been at her side. Goodness, I don’t think I've seen you do anything for you.”
She was going to ask why the Hell he cared, but ended up blurting out, “I do things for me! I manage the hotel, I read letters…I, uh, organize the events…”
“And this is fun to you?”
“...Yes.”
“It seems to me that there is yet something unsatisfied within you, my dear.”
Vaggie huffed, nails digging into her arms from where she gripped them. “Which is?”
“Your bloodlust.”
Before she could think, Vaggie had turned her spear on Alastor, teeth bared. “How fucking dare you. That–that life–is behind me. Im not a fucking exorsist anymore.”
Alastor, seemingly uncaring of the angelic steel pointed directly at his face, simply hummed. “In that, you are correct. But you are a warrior at heart and it's such a shame your militaristic skills have only been used a scant few times.”
“The whole point is for there to be as little violence as possible.”
“And yet you jump at the opportunity. I’ve seen your eyes brighten when you get to knock a few heads together, Vaggie. It would be foolish to deny that part of yourself.”
“What the hell are you playing at?” Clearly this bastard had an angle, and Vaggie wasn’t about to fall into one of his traps.
Alastor chuckled, arms folded behind his back, not caring to move away from the tip of the spear. “I do believe I have an idea of who this man is. What say you and I…pay him a visit?”
“I'm not gonna kill anyone–”
“Who said anything about killing?” The deer let out a laugh, the sound of a studio audience’s laughter filling the air as well. “No, no, no. We would simply be teaching him a lesson; showing him a lady is not an object to be fondled at his leisure.”
…That didn't sound too bad…but it was Alastor. There was always a catch. “Why wouldn’t you just do it yourself? Why come and tell me when you knew I was going to say ‘no’?”
“I thought it may be fun to have some company.”
“....That's it?
“That’s it.” He echoed. “It’s your choice of course. But it would be a shame for you to miss the fear in the eyes of a man who made your love feel so terribly distressed–”
“Fine.” She held up her hand. “On one condition.” When Alastor nodded, waving a hand for her to continue, Vaggie sighed. “We don’t use any angelic weapons. No permanent death.”
Alastor hummed, seeming to mull this over. “It’s a deal~”
*0*
Vaggie rarely went out into the city, so going out with Alastor was…interesting. She already knew he was one of–if not the most–feared overlords in Hell. But seeing people actually throw themselves into spikes and set themselves on fire at the sight of him walking around was…addmitadly a bit funny.
“So, you said you had an idea of where he was?” She offered, seeping casually over a pile of red and black viscera that covered the sidewalk.
“Oh yes.” Alastor returned, staff clinking on the ground as he walked. “In fact…he should be nearby.” He raised a hand, a shadowy version of himself peaking over his shoulder. Alastor nodded to it and it slunk to the ground, slithering along towards an alleyway. “Ah. Right there. Would you like to do the honors?"
Vaggie rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Let's just get this over with.” She huffed, hand twitching by her thigh where a simple dagger lay attached by some straps. They weren’t going to kill the guy…just give him a good scare.
…Well, okay, they would kill him, but he would respawn in good time.
With her affirmation, Alastor, too, slinked into the shadows, allowing Vaggie to approach the alleyway, pealing around the corner.
There stood a sinner–tall, but not overly so. He had at least eight eyes on his face, all scrunched up as he took a hit from what Vaggie could only assume was a crack pipe. He jerked his head, looking around as if he heard something.
Vaggie glanced to one of the shadows, Alastor’s shadow chuckling silent, grin stretched up sadistically as it crept behind the sinner and entangled itself around him. “WOAH! What the fuck–”
He was quickly silenced by a black tendril wrapping around his mouth–Vaggie’s cue to step out.
“Did you really think you'd be able to pull the shit you did and get away with it?” Eugh. It sounded like something a cheesy villain would say, Whatever.
The sinner managed to wrench his face away from the silencing tendril. “Wh-wha? Who are–”
Vaggie stepped out of the shadows, allowing the faint, flickering lights of a back-alley door illuminate her face. Before she could say anything, the man laughed.
“Holy shit. Y-you’re the princess’ bitch, a-aren’t you–”
All she saw was red for a moment as she whipped out the knife and pressed it to the demon’s throat. “Shut it, cabron. Where the fuck do you get off thinking you can touch Charlie like that?”
He stuttered, seemingly trying to bark out an insult when Vaggie stabbed the knife into his shoulder. “I-I-I–”
“Next time you come into the Hazbin Hotel, it better be to try and redeem yourself. Because if I see you even look at her the wrong way again…I will personally make sure you don’t ever get to see the light of Heaven or Hell ever again.”
When Vaggie caught her breath, she realized her wings had burst forth, creating a dome around the trapped sinner. What was more…the man’s face was illuminated. Like Vaggie was one big night light.
Her grip lessened on the knife (which she now noticed had been dragged down in a long line from his shoulder to his stomach), stepping back, panting as her wings rustled. “Fucking understand?”
When he didn’t respond, Alastor materialized behind him, gripping his shoulders. “It would serve you well to answer her.” He hissed, turning the demon pale.
“I-I pro-promise! I won’t…I won’t–”
“Won’t what? Won’t listen?” He tutted, claws gripping into the demon’s shoulders. “I believe another lesson is in store, don’t you think, my dear?”
A small part of the angel told her that this was enough. That she should let Al finish him off and be done with it…
But a much louder, more demonic part of her had her twirling the knife in her hand. “Y’know what?” She stepped forward, pressing it back towards the sinner’s throat. “I think it is.”
*0*
The walk back to the hotel was much more pleasant. Somehow Vaggie had managed to be pulled into a conversation with the overlord, groaning as he made yet another cheesy dad joke. Sipping on a coffee that Alastor had actually offered to buy her. She would have been more suspicious, but the adrenaline from quite literally ripping a man apart had her far too focused on the idea of a treat (Alright, maybe Charlie had rubbed off on her in that regard).
Luckily, the two of them were clean of any blood–Alastor had taken care of that with a snap. Though he took way too long on cleaning himself because of how busy he had been taking chunks of the guy and eating them. “I really don’t get what the deal is with you and eating people.” She shuddered, trying to block out the memories of the cannibal town cannibals chowing down on her former sisters-in-arms.
“And I don’t see what the deal is with you finding it ‘disgusting’. To each their own, my dear!”
Vaggie took another sip of her drink, seeing the hotel come into view. “Whatever. Long as you keep that shit far away from me, we’re cool.” And usually he did–keeping his weird, creepy cannibal stuff in his room or outside.
“Oh?” Alastor bent at the waist, still walking beside Vaggie, but now better facing her. “Did I just hear you admit you’re ‘cool’ with me?”
Ugh. This fucking guy. They both stopped short of the hotel, Vaggie pressing her fingers to her nose and rubbing it, even if a small smile remained. “I guess. I still don't trust your creepy ass, but…” She sighed, looking up at the demon, whose face was tilted in…confusion? Mocking? Hell if she knew. “You seem like you care about Charlie. Even if you don’t ever say it. And much as you mostly fuck around the hotel, you actually help out sometimes.”
“Is this meant to be a compliment?”
“Close as you’re ever gonna get, shitass.” A chuckle escaped her as Alastor laughed.
Tensing all the same as he put a hand on her shoulder. “Fair enough, my girl. Now, I do believe you have a little princess whose bed you must keep warm, yes?” He pushed her forward, though not nearly as roughly as he usually did. Almost like a parent trying to coax their rowdy kid to go to their room.
Vaggie shook her head, refusing to let that thought take root in her head or heart. “Tch. Night, Al.”
Yeah, it was closer to morning by now, but really, who was keeping track?