divinetree | It's not that complicated, no matter what they say

"I'll be sure to run it past them. Between the upcoming Fashion Week for the new summer looks and all the films wrapping up, the Vees are always busy little bees, but we can wiggle some things around."

The roast also smelled incredible, holy shit. He thought he'd be fighting off waves of nausea but pushing through it, yet-- oh, yep. Nevermind. Eye-jelly soup.

"Well, if it's a good day for soup, I'll take your word for it!" Part of her plan had to be trying to be as creepy and weird as possible. But joke's on you, Rosie, he's known Alastor for decades!

He wondered how the spoons were here. In a pinch, they could be used as a weapon. Her neck's a small target, but it was surprisingly simpler to gouge skin than a grapefruit rind with enough of a thrust-

"Oh, thank you!" He preened. "I'll pass word along to Vel- she really is the best of the best at what she does."

One leg crossed over the other. "Been thinking lately- could she work a bit of her magic on old Carmilla? I can't say I entirely get the whole ballerina thing..."

Away from him. Focus on ME. I'll talk your fucking ears off. It's what I'm best at.

"Sheesh - getting Carmilla to consider any change of outfit is a trip, and after her little stunt with the angel's head last time, she's gonna be a tough nut to crack! I've only gotten her over here for tea a couple of times," Rosie clicked her tongue, snapping to summon a bowl of... well. It seemed mooostly normal? A very fatty looking soup with just a couple of floating eyeballs for garnish. Huh. This person had bright purple irises.

Though Alastor started eating, he just rolled his eyes at the regular chatter, glancing at the bowl. That was an awfully ambitious dish to agree to. If you eat that without sputtering, I'll reward you, came an ominous ping and a slightly mischievous smile. (He had to get his yucks somewhere in all of this.)

"But you don't get anywhere in this biz without being a tough nut to crack, so I guess that's the pot calling the kettle black! Figure you're used to the whole salesman pitch, you always struck me as a sales guy."

Okay, that got a barely restrained snort from Alastor.

"Oh, come on, don't you get too full of it, Al - he's your taste for whatever reason!"

Ohhh that's... that's a very interesting looking soup. And it's looking at him. He had to wonder if you needed to eat the garnish- sometimes you didn't need to- and found himself really not wanting to know what eating an eyeball would be li--

The ping was received. A... a reward...? He swallowed, and quietly took a spoon. Okay. ...You know what? Okay. He was being dared. Dare accepted! What was a little eyeball jelly soup?? He dipped the spoon in and took a moment not to think about it.

Don't think about it. Just take it down fast. It was just a rich soup. Just a rich soup.

He listened as he was quick with it, letting the flavors- and that texture- hit his tongue. It fought to coat his mouth. A quick swallow was met with his stomach trying to clench and protest, but he masked it with a quick nod. Alastor's snort helped, grabbing Rosie's attention as Vox's stomach tried to do another hard clench, but he swallowed it down.

Ha. HA! DONE! No sputters! Not a ONE, fucker! He-

...what?

His eyes flicked between the two of them.

Alastor matched the surprised look, though for his own reasons - what do you mean his taste? Huh?

Rosie seemed confused, herself, at their expressions. She glanced between the two of them, between Vox (hilariously green, good sport) and his blushing and Alastor's pure ace confusion... and glanced down at Alastor's middle before it all dawned on her.

"Oh. My. Stars. You didn't-- Alastor, you didn't pick him back up?? All this-- this was you having a heat-fling with your ex?"

Alastor's face darkened redder and he scowled, looking bristly. "We were never INVOLVED that way, Rosie, my dear--"

"Oh my STARS-- Alastor, PFFFhahah, oh my stars Alastor that's so messy! HAAAAAAH HAH hahahah...!"

"Ah hah hah... oh, hilarious."

"'M sorry 'm sorry-- HAHAhahahahaHA...!"

The nausea ebbed away to an odd twist, and thin vapor trails were definitely rising from the heat vents in his monitor.

Forks or spoons? No. No, he wanted to take the tea pot and swing it juuuust hard enough, anything to silence the laughing. But right now, Vox was gripping the spoon in his hand hard enough to start bending it.

What was messy about it? They were FINE. Things were going well. You're the one sticking your nose in things...

She's going to be like this a while, isn't she...?

With Rosie cackling loudly, tears in her eyes, Alastor just grumbled aloud and replied with a very grouchy signal, gossip-loving woman that she is...

"HAAAAAHahah-- almost, almost a hundred years without a peep over your heat, almost seventy since you came crawling here over the breakup-- HAHAHA-- and. And. Seventy years later you're still-- HAAAAAH--" Rosie grabbed onto Alastor's shoulder to keep from rolling out of her chair in laughter, causing the deer to fold his arms and pout. "And you got pregnant! HOOOh-- of all the Sinners in hell, bAHaha...! No offense, no offense, you're doin' great, sweetie--"

"Are you quite done??"

"I'm-- give me a second," Rosie laughed, pulling out a small fabric square to dab at her eyes without smearing makeup. WHEW... "Oh, you two. Oh, my stars. Well! At least he's making a somewhat honorable man of himself - oh, Vox, dear, you have no idea what you're in for."

Despite his souring mood, he couldn't help but have his curiosity fed by these little tidbits. Was he really the only one other than Rosie who knew of the heat cycles? How hard had he been working to hide it...?

And he'd really... never... turned to help for it. Yeah, that sounded like him.

Vox's expression cooled. He made a point of having more of the soup. "We've both been exceptional. But I'm personally well-prepared for whatever challenges may pop up."

"Oh, you think that - I'll give you this, Alastor, it was smart of you to sign off that unborn soul as fast as possible. Now, I'm too busy with my projects to have wanted anythin' to do with it, but I would've taken up the responsibility if I had to! There's implications to what's going on, you know."

Despite still eating at cuts of his roast, Alastor's grin sharpened and his ears turned back. Pouring a bit of tea for him with magic, Rosie otherwise waved dismissively at him.

"Don't you glare at me! You know I'm right, dear. You're not working with any angelic inheritance, but a new child born in Hell? That is gonna amount to something. New magic? New power? Or just the political implications... people aren't very sold on the leadership and there's a chance of a war breaking out if someone wanted to specifically groom a new claim. It'd have been stupid to leave that little soul unaccounted for."

Alastor's bristling worsened, and he slammed the table with his claw, glaring at Rosie who remained completely unflappable in the face of his rage.

"Don't you D̲AR̅E ta̅lk͞ ̲about the child l̄̿iḵ͟͞e ̱̲̱̲͟TH̲̲̅̿̿AT̳̅̿͟," Alastor snarled, teeth bared. Rosie chuckled, glancing between the two seething demons.

"I already said I wasn't interested in that, pumpkin."

"I don't care-- I may have made compromising Deals, but this child is no one's puppet."

"Technically... that's up to you, isn't it, Vox?" Rosie grinned, taking a pause to sip from her teacup as the radio speaker pops and feedback screeches amplified.

"That it is." Less than a second. That's all he'd need to form a proper garrote. This woman had been able to speak so freely of such topics for longer than either he or Alastor knew, certainly, but wouldn't it be fun to be the one to shut her up?

"...And the implications haven't missed my notice! What plans I have are steadily under way and going swimmingly, and whether we're going on 40 weeks or more, there is precious little time for leisure..." He set the spoon down. It had a noticeable bend to it.

"...And it's crystal that we're not here so you can offer your most heartfelt congratulations."

"Astute! I didn't write to a new business agreement for nothing, after all," Rosie reclined in her seat, resting her hand on her knee as she crossed her legs. One wouldn't be wholly wrong if they suspected that Alastor curbed some of her authoritative body language since coming to Hell.

"So, let me get to the point - Alastor owes me. He owes me participation in a very specific, very complicated project! One he's perfectly familiar with. Unfortunately, taking out another year on the current timetable is off the table - if he doesn't adhere to his terms, then I get his soul for good," Rosie warned, waggling a finger at Alastor, who pinned his ears and sneered uneasily.

"Buuuut. I am a fair woman - always have been, I keep things running smoothly and steadily. So here's where you come in, my dear - you're going to take Alastor's job up while he's on his maternity leave. For however long he's pregnant and recuperating after, sticking around to do what mothers do - I need you to fill in the gap."

Vox's mind trailed to the way Alastor was when he smashed his way through the tower, manic, finding out about his condition and looking damn near ready to eat him.

This was the woman he owed for all that power, which again had him wondering what the fuck she is. But he felt something gnawing deep down, a hunger that reminded him of countless 'opportunities' that presented themselves in his mortal life.

He saw a throat he would dearly like to bite for more reasons than before. How much brighter would he be then...?

"I see. And what's this project what demands a tight timetable?"

"Lucky you, you don't need to worry about that! I'll just have you pick up the slack in Alastor's place. I need you to go to Princess Charlie Morningstar and support her and her hotel for redeeming Sinners," Rosie chuckled, smugly.

She only let the moment hang briefly before continuing. "Positive promotion, management, financial support, security, and endearing yourself to the Morningstars. They don't find out it's 'cause I've made a Deal with you for it, they don't find out why you're doing it - you can come up with whatever reason you think makes sense, dear. I'll leave whether you tell the royal family about puttin' Al in a family way up to you - there's risks and benefits and that's your circus to figure out, but that project needs to keep going."

Vox stared for a moment. The blink was slow. Expectant. He was almost waiting for some kind of catch. When he finally sat back, slung an elbow over the back of the chair, he shrugged a shoulder.

His soul was worth far, far more than something he could easily bang out in a few weeks, but he wasn't about to throw that back and suddenly up the price. But what a strange horse to back, Rosie...

"It needs to keep going, huh? So you believe in that redemption crap?"

"Where's the fun in me tellin' you everything! See if you can't figure it out just by working there for a while, dear," Rosie chuckled, getting a roll of the eyes from Alastor.

...Even so. He looked... surprised.

"Is that truly it?"

"Oh, Al dear, you'll have to actually wrap up the project with me later on - if things get a little further along than we expect while you're held up, I'll clue your beau in. And I'll even be lenient so you don't get your little head twisted up in a ball - if Vox has to finish up the project, that still counts as you doing my favor. You'll be debt free and off the hook! Isn't that a good Deal?"

So he'll only know what the flying fuck Alastor is meant to be doing if for some reason he nudges things along in the next several months or so... maybe he should play ball and pull out all the stops. Something with the dumb hotel and the princess is the key.

This was for Alastor and the kid. You're welcome.

His claws drummed the table top as he considered. But when they stopped, Vox smacked his lips and gave another carefree shrug of a shoulder. "That does sound good- gotta get back to work eventually, right, or you go a little stir crazy..."

He rapped the table top twice with his knuckles. "I'll get in good with Charlie Morningstar, manage, help finance and provide security for the Hazbin Hotel. They'll get ad slots during prime time hours for the industry standard of 13 weeks. No more- Too much repetition gets annoying and would rot the appeal of the product- and no less."

Vox snapped his fingers, and manifested a paperclipped document. He placed it on the table and let a spark flit from one of his antennae, where it proceeded to dance and 'etch' the words as he dictated them.

"Do excuse me, I tend to enjoy my dealings in writing. It's fun to bookkeep. Anyway-!"

He hopped in his chair to turn it, then pushed off with a foot to scoot his seat closer to Alastor's.

"Speaking as a concerned father, I gotta say I don't entirely appreciate the little shock the other morning of an empty space! So I fluff the princess' dream and make a campaign so big and positive that she just might wind up drowning in clientele to test her theory on... and in exchange, we not only end this meeting with me taking this grumpy gus home with me--" He draped an arm over Alastor's shoulders-

"But you give him the privacy, security, peace and quiet he desires to ensure a safe and healthy pregnancy, and time to bond with the little pup when they get here! See, it's my responsibility as a dutiful partner to make sure both he and the baby are comfy during this rather delicate time. If anything were to jeopardize that from now until Al feels he's ready to get back on that proverbial horse, I'm afraid my priorities would no longer be on the hotel! I'd have to call it quits, and focus solely on what's most important to me." His eyes went soft, widened slightly in innocence, as he emphasized his last words with a little squeeze of the other demon he had a hold of.

Edited 2026-01-09 06:10 (UTC)

"Mmmhmm," Rosie hummed, picking up the paper to give it a slow read-over, calmly sipping tea as she read.

And despite an initial tensing of the shoulders, Alastor made proper eye contact with Vox, assessing him. The scooting closer, the arm over his shoulder, the possessive signal... Al didn't react much, save for a gentle touch on Vox's knee under the table.

She thought me leaving without a word would have a more urgent impact, he pinged silently. From how ready for a fight Vox clearly was, it worked - Alastor was a bit disappointed with his picturebox being so predictable and easily manipulated, but that disappointment ebbed behind a slight pride he felt in his mate coming in with fangs bared in a strong-willed grin anyway. She's going to adjust the terms. I hope you're ready to unclog toilets.

"Hmmm..." Rosie hummed, an old typewriter appearing in front of her and floating in the air as she looped an ink ribbon into the thing and started retyping the contract. "Support as the hotelier and nudging the Princess in one way or another as I dictate, using your power and resources to protect the Hotel and its residents, and no running support out of one side of your mouth and sabotage out of the other. So long as you're doing this for me, I won't dictate where Alastor can be."

"Or what I can do?"

"Now, I didn't say that, you cheeky thing. It's not a good idea to go Overlord Hunting again any time soon in your condition anyway - just focus on that, deer."

"Oh, come now, Rosie - I wouldn't go hunting! No, no... I wouldn't endanger the child like that, what a waste. But unexpected circumstances can pop up! Shouldn't I be able to defend myself?"

"Hah! Nice try. You've got a nice strong partner there, appreciate him taking care of you. Live it up for once, you high-strung prideful thing. Oh! Of course silly me, nearly forgot the mutual agreed secrecy - not a word from my lips or yours about aaaany of these details on the agreement or your budding little family, naturally!"

It was normal to go over and redraft contracts a number of times before terms were where both would agree. So Rosie getting out that typewriter and working things up further didn't garner so much as a blink.

What did get a blink, however, was the touch to the knee. It had been bobbing a bit, a jitter in the heel, and it stilled. But what did he mean by unclogging toilets...? That's not what managers do, you have maintenance guys for that, what's he talking abou--

"Naturally! Now, a little assured alignment of goals and pillars of stability over the course of this whole transition never hurts, hm? I will exercise what actions you would have me do so long as I, in good faith, recognize them as my own, cored by my extensive experience and savvy as a successful, long-running business owner, of course. Socioeconomics can be so fickle sometimes, right?? Good old unexpected circumstances..."

"Hah! You've got all those funny buzzwords, aren't you cute-- worked in news at some point, too, didn't ya?" Rosie chuckled, pausing to review some wording before re-typing it. Plucking it from her typewriter, she crossed out the wording she'd touched up with a fountain pen, gave the second draft a read before passing it back to Vox.

Roughly the same agreement, simply more clauses clarifying specifics and closing possible loopholes. Businessmen types always needed the tighter knots, after all.

"Alastor, should we have any clauses about him using his little eye trick?" Rosie asked, smiling in amusement at Alastor rolling his eyes.

"He'll find out soon enough that he'll only make things harder for himself if he misuses it."

"Hah! True enough. You know, in a funny way, maybe this is good practice - stepping away from the profit driven method of running your usual business to actually being a caretaker. Getcha in the right mindset instead of ogling people's necks and chests with barely contained bloodlust. Hah, men, so emotional."

Edited 2026-01-09 19:11 (UTC)

"For a spell," he noted idly, and accepted the second draft for his own look-over.

Hmm. He'd seen where she closed some things off. But there was something in here he could still use. Plus, getting in close with the princess could only be useful for another idea he had, and all without crushing her OR the hotel.

"I have plenty of caretaking experience," he noted, quirking a brow at Rosie. He'll let the 'emotional' remark go and opt for another weapon instead:

"Maintaining the temperature of several many-thousand-gallon tanks, maintaining water salinity and weight with supplemental pump maintenance and water removal, scheduling mealtimes and feeding a proper balanced diet, regular checks for cybernetic implant and augment part functionality, occasional barnacle removal, greenery maintenance and swap-planting for variety to ensure a balance of enrichment, not to mention the attention needed to balance day-night cycles for healthier sleep patterns..."

He lifted his head proudly. "...And plenty of tummy pets. You know, people underestimate just how needy but affectionate sharks truly are!"

Rosie's playful grin only grew wider and wider, making Alastor's ears drop immediately - he knew exactly what was coming before she even opened her mouth.

"Don't start--"

"That explains why you were looking for shark teeth that one time! Didja ever give him that shark tooth necklace? I always thought you were just having a little yearnin' for something tropical!"

"That was a long time ago, Rosie," Alastor groaned, folding his arms and pouting even harder. "And it's not unusual to give your pal a celebratory gift - he'd made quite the accomplishment that year, that's all."

"Oh, yeah, quite an accomplishment! Heheheh. He's learning all sorts of fun new things today, isn't he?"

"Entirely unnecessarily, might I add."

He startled briefly, and looked between them. He briefly thought about the little box he had stowed away in a personal safe. Really, he shouldn't be surprised Rosie knew about it somehow, but... he talked about it?...

I... still have it.

"Hah! Little did I know I was getting an exclusive tell-all, huh...? Hey Al- you ever decide on a memoir, I've got at least twelve half-decent writers you can call on!"

He was still leaning.

Vox sat up straighter and withdrew, clearing his throat awkwardly and tapping the documents against the table to line them up.

"Right! Yes, well- I think what we've got here is solid. All what needs to be added I suppose is the start date. I do need to finish a few matters and make a few phone calls before I make the trip out, of course, but I don't see myself taking too long. You know how it is- you'd think the city would somehow burn down without me!"

"Hah! Don't you worry, this old town isn't going anywhere. At worst people will have a slow week, get caught up on some reading or something," Rosie chuckled, penning a start date of that following Monday. The sooner the better! "There! If we're all in agreement, here's my signature - now don't you two hop away too fast, I'll go grab your early baby shower gifts right now."

With a signature and a moment for Rosie to step away, for just a moment, the two men at least had a room to themselves.

"Relentless gossip."

Edited 2026-01-09 21:31 (UTC)

That's... right. With the secrecy, there wouldn't exactly be a baby shower, huh? Then again, Alastor would never agree to such a thing, and they trended toward being kind of embarrassing anyway. "Aww! You didn't have to go through all that trouble...!"

Vox watched her go, then reached into his coat for his pen. In the resultant quiet, Alastor's remark, Vox sighed and shook his head.

"She's sure having the time of her afterlife..." The laughter stung.

"That could have gone worse, at least."

"I was going to say that I can't believe you took the bait, but that would be a lie - I absolutely knew you would," Alastor griped, giving up on his fork and knife manners to grab the last half of the roast and eat the rest in one hungry, tearing bite. Damn relentless hunger...

"Dangerous but endearing. Not to be underestimated. Quick to quash any resistance..."

Either with force or, in this case... by playing the other angle. A gossamer leash that wouldn't be broken, could still be pulled. Ugh. Admirable, infuriating, he hates her. Grumpily, he licked the meaty juices off of his palm.

"Opted for the humiliating route instead of tightening leashes. I suppose that makes sense. Ugh."

Edited 2026-01-09 21:45 (UTC)

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