Angel had a point, but Alastor wasn't going to attempt another full-frontal assault. He knew better. No, no, no, he'd have to expedite the process of breaking the bonds of the three V's, make it so that Velvet and Vox would very easily look the other way as he broke Valentino once and for all. The moth had pushed far too many of his boundaries. It was high time the Overlord of Lust fell.
As his dark plans swirled in his head, Angel retrieved a sprig of mistletoe from his chest fluff and kissed the tip of his nose, startling Alastor. His ears twitched as he watched Angel saunter inside, momentarily frozen to the spot.
Right. Okay. Time to set the rest of his holiday plan into motion.
He teleported back to the antique shop, retrieved the case, and then teleported to the radio tower on the edge of the Pentagram. Due to just who was known to frequent such places, there was a wide expanse of empty land surrounding it lest anyone annoy the Radio Demon whenever he was in residence. He unlocked the door with a bit of magic and entered, immediately grateful that Niffty made a habit of coming by at least once a week to keep this particular tower clean. He wasn't a messy man by nature and it took just a snap of the fingers to have the place spotless, but it was always nice to have somewhere to temporarily settle down in that wasn't overrun with dust and spiderwebs.
He moved on to one of the old conference rooms that he'd converted into a workspace for the more mechanical aspects of his work, the case still in hand. He set it down on the tabletop and opened the case, retrieving a toolkit from the cabinet.
"Now then, my friend, let's make you better than new, shall we?"
----------
It was a good thing Alastor had chosen to strike while the iron was hot and get things done sooner rather than later. It turned out that the next few weeks leading up to the Christmas party were quite busy.
There was the usual work around the hotel: repairing damages, managing expenses, etc. However, there was the added prep work of the party itself, something that took nearly twice as long after Charlie just about destroyed the kitchen while attempting to bake Christmas cookies. (Fortunately the fire hadn't spread too far beyond the oven. Poor thing really had no skill with cooking unless it came to apple pie.) Alastor had stepped up to do the baking, assigning her the job of decoration, so it came as no surprise that even the Husk-shaped gingerbread man had a big smile on its face and far more colors than were necessary.
Then of course there was the added job of fixing up the record player and finishing his own gift-gathering. He'd never put his name on the extra gifts, but he felt the people here deserved something for welcoming him into their midst. Niffty and Husk were used to such things and knew not to draw attention to it. His outing with Angel had been doubly-helpful given Angel had provided some very solid suggestions for what to get Charlie and Vaggie.
The record player turned out to be in worse shape than previously-expected. Alastor had disassembled and reassembled the entire thing, carefully fixing and cleaning or replacing each part. The worn leather case had been polished to a healthy shine and the wooden handle had been replaced with one intricately-carved with a little spider weaving a web, the center of the web being a heart. (The new handle had been handcrafted by an imp he'd made a deal -- little D -- with. The imp had risked coming to him for a bit of rootwork to help a sick friend. A simple enough remedy that Alastor decided to trade for something more interesting than money upon learning the imp did woodworking for a living.) He decided against gift-wrapping it, instead putting a tag on it and teleporting it into place just before the start of the party.
As if that wasn't enough, he'd scrutinized Angel's contract with a fine-tooth comb. There was no silver bullet to instantly annul the contract, sadly, but there was enough there to build a strong case that the contract was too much of a mess to properly bind either party to it so it should be annulled. It'd take ages for Angel to get his day in court and they'd only get one shot at it, but it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. Despite Lucifer's dislike of Alastor, the King of Hell took soul contracts very seriously and would listen in this case.
Sitting down in a chair with a mug of mulled wine, Alastor was grateful to finally be off his feet. He'd been cooking the meal and snacks all day in addition to putting the finishing touches on wrapping the extra gifts and hiding them behind the others. The "briefcase" sat to one side of the presents, the tag labeled "To Angel Dust" facing the rest of the room.
"Okay, everyone!" Charlie called, clapping her hands. "Who's ready to party?!"
Alastor took another sip of his wine, closing his eyes. He would be leaving after the gift exchange later on. Once he'd left, things would be in full swing. The least he could do for these people.
And he'd stocked up for a few days of basically granting himself oblivion. He didn't really care either way for Christmas but the knowledge that he was alone on a day for friends and family, that he wouldn't be granted even that small mercy? Well, forgive him if he decided to give himself a brief respite from his punishments as a Christmas present to himself. If anything, the hangover at the end of it would more than make up for it.
no subject
As his dark plans swirled in his head, Angel retrieved a sprig of mistletoe from his chest fluff and kissed the tip of his nose, startling Alastor. His ears twitched as he watched Angel saunter inside, momentarily frozen to the spot.
Right. Okay. Time to set the rest of his holiday plan into motion.
He teleported back to the antique shop, retrieved the case, and then teleported to the radio tower on the edge of the Pentagram. Due to just who was known to frequent such places, there was a wide expanse of empty land surrounding it lest anyone annoy the Radio Demon whenever he was in residence. He unlocked the door with a bit of magic and entered, immediately grateful that Niffty made a habit of coming by at least once a week to keep this particular tower clean. He wasn't a messy man by nature and it took just a snap of the fingers to have the place spotless, but it was always nice to have somewhere to temporarily settle down in that wasn't overrun with dust and spiderwebs.
He moved on to one of the old conference rooms that he'd converted into a workspace for the more mechanical aspects of his work, the case still in hand. He set it down on the tabletop and opened the case, retrieving a toolkit from the cabinet.
"Now then, my friend, let's make you better than new, shall we?"
----------
It was a good thing Alastor had chosen to strike while the iron was hot and get things done sooner rather than later. It turned out that the next few weeks leading up to the Christmas party were quite busy.
There was the usual work around the hotel: repairing damages, managing expenses, etc. However, there was the added prep work of the party itself, something that took nearly twice as long after Charlie just about destroyed the kitchen while attempting to bake Christmas cookies. (Fortunately the fire hadn't spread too far beyond the oven. Poor thing really had no skill with cooking unless it came to apple pie.) Alastor had stepped up to do the baking, assigning her the job of decoration, so it came as no surprise that even the Husk-shaped gingerbread man had a big smile on its face and far more colors than were necessary.
Then of course there was the added job of fixing up the record player and finishing his own gift-gathering. He'd never put his name on the extra gifts, but he felt the people here deserved something for welcoming him into their midst. Niffty and Husk were used to such things and knew not to draw attention to it. His outing with Angel had been doubly-helpful given Angel had provided some very solid suggestions for what to get Charlie and Vaggie.
The record player turned out to be in worse shape than previously-expected. Alastor had disassembled and reassembled the entire thing, carefully fixing and cleaning or replacing each part. The worn leather case had been polished to a healthy shine and the wooden handle had been replaced with one intricately-carved with a little spider weaving a web, the center of the web being a heart. (The new handle had been handcrafted by an imp he'd made a deal -- little D -- with. The imp had risked coming to him for a bit of rootwork to help a sick friend. A simple enough remedy that Alastor decided to trade for something more interesting than money upon learning the imp did woodworking for a living.) He decided against gift-wrapping it, instead putting a tag on it and teleporting it into place just before the start of the party.
As if that wasn't enough, he'd scrutinized Angel's contract with a fine-tooth comb. There was no silver bullet to instantly annul the contract, sadly, but there was enough there to build a strong case that the contract was too much of a mess to properly bind either party to it so it should be annulled. It'd take ages for Angel to get his day in court and they'd only get one shot at it, but it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. Despite Lucifer's dislike of Alastor, the King of Hell took soul contracts very seriously and would listen in this case.
Sitting down in a chair with a mug of mulled wine, Alastor was grateful to finally be off his feet. He'd been cooking the meal and snacks all day in addition to putting the finishing touches on wrapping the extra gifts and hiding them behind the others. The "briefcase" sat to one side of the presents, the tag labeled "To Angel Dust" facing the rest of the room.
"Okay, everyone!" Charlie called, clapping her hands. "Who's ready to party?!"
Alastor took another sip of his wine, closing his eyes. He would be leaving after the gift exchange later on. Once he'd left, things would be in full swing. The least he could do for these people.
And he'd stocked up for a few days of basically granting himself oblivion. He didn't really care either way for Christmas but the knowledge that he was alone on a day for friends and family, that he wouldn't be granted even that small mercy? Well, forgive him if he decided to give himself a brief respite from his punishments as a Christmas present to himself. If anything, the hangover at the end of it would more than make up for it.