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Paimon [Σ] Baeymont Teyvatking Καρδινάλιος Raphaelsbane Infernal Øccidens {IX} Goetia was many things.
Sire to the Ars Goetia.
Beholden to Lucifer Morningstar.
…Heartbroken widower.
A father to many children….including his less than pathetic adulterous son.
A grandfather to his beloved and quirky teenaged granddaughter Octavia.
But above all else, he was a ruler. He acted with distinction for those who he ruled over, and acted with a mind for the greater good of them.
…Even if the poors tended to whine.
…And smell.
…And got caught in the spokes of his carriage wheels when Mr Butler was driving him home from the ice cream shop.
But regardless of how many times he had to spray the lowborn with flames or water from his bucket of syphilis, he accepted all the responsibility that came with it.
Which made his current situation happening in his proverbial backyard all the more worrying.
The carriage was being driven by six pure-blooded Nightmares; a breed of equine steeds native to Hell. Naturally superior to common Hell Horses, they were a bright crimson and their coats were covered in a dripping pattern that resembled black tar sloughing off them. They had multiple eyes on their heads, and every breath they exhaled through their malevolent snouts burned the air around them. As they ran at each crack of the drivers reigns, their flaming hooves left scorching puddles of magma in the red grounds of the unpopulated wastes of the Pride Ring.
“We are almost there Sire,” Mr Butler informed, while he cleaned his monocle. Instead of being the driver of the carriage, he was currently seated across from Paimon within.
While he dared not to question his Lord's choice in requesting his presence alongside him in the carriage as opposed to simply driving as he usually would, he could only assume that the situation was more dire than he could fathom.
If Paimon heard the statement, he didn't show it. His eyes were closed, and he was still as a statue. He wasn't watching with his eyes, but he was scanning the surroundings with his Hellish senses.
Unseen to the magically unattuned, a massive red eye with a black veiny sclera floated above Paimon's golden crown.
With it, he could sense the wrongness of the area.
It was like a leak in a furnace that was causing an entire building to catch fire as a result.
The ground, the rivers, the plant life. They were all being forcefully saturated by this wrongness that didn't belong here.
The natural Hellish energies that were present in all the rings were being stifled by this foreign energy-
‘No. Not foreign’ he thought to himself. The energy was familiar, even if only slightly. He couldn't place where he had sensed it, but it was definitely something he had frequently sensed many times before. This wrongness was foreign. ‘Simply…misplaced’ he thought.
“Sire?”
His eyes opened, as he bore witness to Mr Butler holding the door to the carriage open for him.
“We have arrived, Sire”.
Silently nodding, he seamlessly exited as he brushed off his shoulder.
He did his best to not be caught staring at his hand that was instinctively clenchiny, if just for a moment.
Leading the way, Mr Butler brought Paimon to a beat up truck and a very scraggly Imp that was standing next to it.
He was two heads taller than Mr Butler, but wore a rumpled and obviously unwashed suit that was clearly made from mismatched formal wear. He was hunched over, and nervously holding his newsie cap as he gulped at their approach.
“Sire, this is the Imp that had discovered the anomaly” Mr Butler announced, motioning to the Imp. “Clayton More, Sire”.
Paimon said nothing, as his eyes practically bored into the yellow orbs of this Imp before him.
His presence only served to make Clayton more nervous, making him gulped. Sweat poured off of him, and his tail lagged behind him anxiously. “Hi- I mean, hello y-your majesty- I mean, greetings your majest-”
“Speak”
The simple command from Paimon cut away any pretense that the Imp tried to establish. And he straightened up fearfully before nodding nervously. “O-oh! Yes! W-well I discovered the…uh, the thing yesterday!”. He waved his hands as if to emphasize his point further. “I know that a lot of gangs use Gurney Gulch as a dumping ground, so I come here to pick at what's left. You know, one Imps trash being another Imps treasure?” He chuckled.
Paimon and Mr Butler stared flatly, without amusement.
Clayton pulled at his collar, before looking down at the ground. “A-anyways, I slipped and fell down a cave! I was gonna climb out, but then I saw this glow. It was weird….and I felt like I was being tickled in my soul or something. And when I saw it….”, he shivered, before anxiously awaiting a response.
The rehashing of the story that Mr Butler had been informed of by the Goetic Agents was solid. Ever since his Lord was feeling unsettled around the castle in the last several days, it had worried him. But when he had received a report of an Imp who was speaking nonsense about ‘A portal to Super Hell’, he took a gamble to investigate. Visiting the man personally, Mr Butler dutifully presented his findings to Paimon, who immediately wished to set up a meeting. The regal Imp servant turned to Paimon, awaiting a response.
Paimon inhaled, and closed his eyes once again.
The Imp was practically cloaked in this familiar energy. Not in a way that hinted at any deliberate magical preparation. But the kind that showed a chance grazing of something absolutely beyond one's understanding.
“Show us”.
The three departed silently as Clayton led them on an awkward walk away from the carriage.
Paimon’s magic easily knocked away any stones or boulders that would obstruct his path, providing him and his servant a simple walk.
After a minute of walking, they came towards a nondescript entrance to a nondescript cave on the base of a mountain.
“So….here it is. The…weird cave with the anomolmmy thing” Clayton motioned towards the red and black cave as he butchered the word anomaly.
The three were standing at the mouth of a rather unassuming cave. It looked no different from any other of the rocky areas in the wastes, as it bore cracks, indents, and the usual eyes that were plentiful in Hell's landscape.
But to Paimon, it might as well have been a roaring bonfire of mystical energies.
He didn't even have to use his Goetic senses to see that the cave was akin to a smokestack of this energy.
“Pay the Imp”.
With a nod, Mr Butler pulled off the very large satchel that was slung over his shoulder. He approached Clayton before opening the bag and showing that it was literally stuffed full with rolls of $100. “60,000 souls for your cooperation and silence in this matter”.
Clayton's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he sputtered out a rasp of disbelief. He took hold of the satchel, before a partially toothless grin threatened to split his face in two. “O-oh!!!! Thank you Mr Paimon- I mean, your majesty-”
“Clayton Moore”.
The cool and cold tone of the Goetia royal made Clayton freeze for a moment. By the time he managed to look up, Paimon was looming over him.
The crowned Owl immediately bent over in an unnatural manner, as he lowered his face to the Imps short height. His red eyes bored into the Imps, as he spoke with damnation and decisiveness. “Should anyone hear of this cave or your meeting with myself and my servant, I assure you that another lowborne wretch will find quite the treasure in that satchel, when they discover your corpse in these same dumping grounds”.
The voice that spoke to Clayton was layered over with the rumbling growls of countless beasts. It brokered no argument, and spoke not a threat….but a vow.
Immediately, he nodded before scrambling back in the direction of his truck with reward in hand.
Turning back towards the cave, Paimon simply gave Mr Butler a simple look. “Hold your breath, my friend”.
Knowing better than to question, Mr Butler watched in awe as Paimon's form shifted.
His body became an inky blackness of malevolence and darkness. Beasts of both Hell & Earth could be seen fighting for supremacy in his form, as an abyssal crown floated above his head.
It was his Lord's untethered form, and it took his breath away no matter how many times he had seen it.
Paimon lurched towards Mr Butler. But instead of any harm coming to the Imp, he simply brought him into his spectral mass. After which, he dove downwards into the cave's mouth.
The rocky entrance sloped further and further downward, as it was deceptively deeper than it appeared. But this was even less than a trivial matter for one such as Paimon. His form constantly shifted, as irregular and mismatched limbs formed. They grasped onto the cave walls and ceilings, further allowing him to propel himself and his charge forward as he all but threw himself down the entryway at a great speed.
Finally after several seconds, he summoned the majority of the mass to cushion his fall. Four gigantic spider limbs sprouted, allowing him to come to a stop at the base of the drop. A small pool of water was below, and he crawled forward with a lengthy centipede body as he righted himself onto solid ground.
He ejected Mr Butler out of his form and set him down properly before returning to his commonly seen Goetia form.
Mr Butler let out a breath of relief, finally able to fill his lungs again. But his eyes widened in surprise as he saw his flesh was black.
Pure black, in the same way his Lord’s untethered form was.
He raised his hands, and saw that the abyssal energy rose off of him like evaporating thick liquid. ‘A protective barrier?’. He looked up to his Lord in surprise, and he saw the robed back of Lord Paimon.
He was about to question their next step, but his voice died in his throat at the sheer shock of what he was witnessing.
Mr Butler had seen many things in his life. Ever since a young and kind Paimon had secretly gifted him a bountiful lifespan for his role as being his father figure when his own father was rather monstrous, Mr Butler had seen many wonders and sights as he faithfully served under Paimon for centuries.
‘But this? I….I wouldn't even deign to try to understand what I am looking at!’ he thought as he felt his mind stall for a moment.
Paimon’s reaction was even moreso emotionless, his eyes were boring into the sight before them.
Before the pair was what could only be described as a massive hole in space.
A crack in existence.
A splinter in the fabric of reality.
Before them, was a large opening in the air itself. There were jagged borders that resembled a broken window pane, and the opening had a thick purple and dark blue miasma on the other side.
Sometimes the miasma would spill out of the opening, and even those who weren't attuned to the depths of reality and the layers of mysticism could perceive it.
And it was here that Paimon understood.
The familiarity.
The wrongness that didn't belong.
It did belong.
But it didn't belong here.
What this was, was the nameless realm that was used for inter-realm teleportation.
All beings, Heaven bound or Hellborne used this realm when traveling between or inside realms by way of teleportation or portals.
If creation around them was a building, then this nameless realm was the interiors of the walls. It is what supported and divided the realms properly. Akin to the cupboards of a shelf.
Not only did it properly fill the ‘empty spaces’ of creation and keep Heaven, Hell & Earth separate, but it also was the lynchpin for any and all transportation using magical means.
When one used non-physical movement, there was a single instance of which they entered this place before reaching their destination. Most people were unaware of its existence.
Even someone of his strength and knowledge required a century of training to be able to see a passing glimpse of it.
It was but a blip, where one would enter this realm, before being sent to their targeted destination. Of those who used teleportation, whether it be grimoires, Asmodean crystals, or any manner of portals, they all used this realm as a medium to allow for travel to and from.
‘...Which begs the question, of why it's so forcefully present here?’ Paimon thought with concern. Raising his hand up, he felt along the broken edges of reality that resembled broken glass.
He knew it only appeared as such, as his physical mind did its best to rationalize the conceptual sight before him.
But even still, as his hand graced it he felt….damage. He felt destruction. He felt the absolute force of will that had caused this eruption in space-time, which led to this abomination of an entryway.
‘If a normal portal is a naturally sewn hole in the tapestry of creation that is closed eventually, then this…..this is akin to using an entire sewing machine to smash an opening by force and brutish logic’ he surmised.
Nonetheless, he knew what had to be done.
In a flash of crimson and black, an ancient tome that was taller than Mr Butler summoned itself. The flesh of a long forgotten creature comprised its binding, as a horrified beaked face made the cover.
Splaying his arms out, Paimon's wings grew out in a magnificent display of archaic might. Crimson aura poured off of him and began to overflow the miasma of the opening.
Mr Butler retreated considerably behind a large stone, more out of concern for interrupting his Lord's spell than his own safety. His eyes watched with anticipation and he unconsciously held his breath.
Paimon's pitch black crown returned, as his shadow extended up against the walls like a horrid spectre. It churned and bubbled before it took form.
After it had crawled off the wall to take a physical form, it revealed itself to be a Ravens corpse. Jagged, decrepit and missing entire portions of itself, the damned familiar let out a misery laced moan as its lower beak forced itself into place akin to a horrid puppet brought to life.
While it perched itself on Paimon's crown, its socketless eyes leaked blood and sulfur before it began to inhale.
And inhale.
And inhale.
The surrounding miasma from the spatial fracture started to absorb into the Ravens body. The visible space where its ribs were shamelessly open worked like a vacuum to the mystical substance that laid between real.s.
The red color of the crimson stone returned, as the unnatural energy began to coalesce into the Raven familiar. The decrepit creature was overstuffed. Its head rocked back and it let out pained noises that no bird should be capable of making, yet it continued to inhale more and more of the leaking energy.
Soon, the cave was completely free of the miasmic energy.
Looking down to his hands, Mr Butler noticed that the black energy of protection was gone, and he was now free of any possible danger.
Yet he knew deep down that it was only over once his Lord announced it so.
Paimon stared at the opening with a lack of emotion and dark determination.
His grimoire that was bound in the flesh of his father let out a scream, as a single page floated out of it. In a puff of feathers, the book disappeared and the page floated between himself and the opening.
Channeling his energy, he cast his hands outwards with the full force of his magical might. “Qoth The Raven”
And then the decomposing familiar let out an unholy scream, as it vomited out a blast of compressed energy.
KRAAU̴₳̸₳̶₳̷∆∆}₲̶ỻ̶₳̵Ꝅ̷₩̵И̵//ỻ̶Ꝗ̵666𖤐!!!!!
۞
The Raven jerked forward as the miasma shot out of its jagged beak in a blue shining beam. The beam struck the page, and the page glowed as bright as a lantern as countless Goetic sigils and runes carved themselves into the air, before an even more compressed pink beam shot out at the opening.
KSHEEEEEEEEEEEEV!!!!!
The beam impacted the break in reality itself before it began to move sporadically. The laser shot back and forth, as it left crimson colored lines that were akin to stitch marks.
The sight was nothing short of poetic to Mr Butler. His monocle fell and hung from its chain, as he witnessed Paimon seemingly sealing the very fracture in space itself.
Before long, crimson threads secured across the spatial hole as Paimon cast his hand out to make a fist.
All at once, it happened.
The opening warped unstably as the threads pulled it shut. The boundaries were forced closer and closer together, as it even attempted to resist. But Paimon's will was absolute, and his eyes grew black flames as the tear in the real was forced shit with a burst of glowing purple dust.
With that done, the crow cried out in arduous pain before melting back to Paimon's shadow, and the page burned to cinders.
By the time Mr Butler could blink, they were standing back outside in the wastes of Gurney Gulch. He turned around, only to see the entire mouth of the cave just….gone.
Seamless rock was present where it previously stood, as if it was never there in the first place.
“Come, Mr Butler. I wish to return home before the rain” Paimon spoke casually, while he headed back towards the carriage.
To his credit, Mr Butler recomposed himself with a nod. Redonning his monocle, he quickly hurried ahead so that he could open the door to the carriage. But as he opened it, he couldn't help but look quizzically at his Lord. “The rain, Sire?”.
The question gave Paimon pause, just as he was stepping up into the carriage. He turned around and held his hand out, as if expecting precipitation to fall and touch his palm. When it didn't feel a drop, he all but chuckled to himself. “Forgive me, old friend”.
A cordial pat on the head surprised Mr Butler, and even more so at the smile he hadn't seen on his Lord's face since he had defeated his father and took his place as the strongest ruling Goetia.
Paimon [Σ] Baeymont Teyvatking Καρδινάλιος Raphaelsbane Infernal Øccidens {IX} Goetia gazed curiously at the cloudy skies above, and scratched his beak.
As he entered the carriage followed closely behind by his servant, he sighed wistfully. “I just couldn't help but think…what a good day for rain this would be”.
“.....You're sending us home?”
Of the Hellborne employees at the newly refurbished Hazbin Hotel, this question was at the forefront of their minds.
All of the Hellborne staff at the hotel, from the Imp bellhops, to the Baphomet desk workers, to the Hellhound janitors, were easily confused and hesitant as they were all gathered in the parlor room of the Hotel.
“Yep! You're all getting sent home!” Charlie smiled tightly. She smoothed out her suit as best as she could despite the water and broken glass that was caking the floor.
The earlier chaos that shook the Hotel was already shocking to the residents and staff. But Charlie’s voice coming over the radio-comm and gathering all the staff was even more concerning.
A Baphomet raised his hand, as his head candle was half melted in nervousness. “Um….are we being fired?”.
“What? No no no! Of course not! I promise this isn't that!” She reassured them with raised hands which she soon held together in a placating manner. “Its just this recent storm is-”. Charlie fell silent after a moment, and the awkwardness only grew. She took a deep breath and the tight smile returned to her face. “I promise that none of you are being fired. You are appreciated and valued by this Hotel. Right now, we just need to empty the Hotel to take stock”.
She gave them dual thumbs up, and motioned to the door in an attempt to reassure them. “We’ll call you guys when it's okay to come back to work…..I-If anything, we'll make sure that you're still paid even for the time you're not here! You guys deserve it”.
Despite the hesitance, the promise of paid time off seemed to relax the workers, who began to slowly file out of the parlor room.
“That was….weird. But it could be worse”
“Well, at least we're still getting money. That way I don't have to go back to stripping. I hate it when I run into my dad at work”
“I totally thought we were screwed”
Soon the last worker left, as Charlie waved before closing the front door of the Hotel. As the door closed, she couldn't help but rest her head against it instinctively. Her body shuddered instinctively and she let out a shaky breath.
‘My body. This entire time, it feels like it's on edge’ she worriedly thought. Looking at her hand, she saw it was caked in sweat. Even as she tentatively curled her fingers, her hand wouldn't stop shaking. ‘Even during the trial…even during the Extermination I didn't feel this nervous’. But regardless, the weight of her responsibility carried her through. Taking a deep breath, she walked back through the hallway. Trying to avoid the broken glass, she came back through and spotted a very displeased Vaggie.
While glad that her girlfriend's ire wasn't aimed at her, Charlie still was bothered that she was in such a state. Even though Vaggie’s recent progress on curbing her frustration had been especially beneficial, as of now she was gritting her teeth in pure frustration.
“Lucifer Morningstar I swear to all that's unholy, answer your phone and get your ass back to this hotel!!!!!” She hissed angrily into her cell phone, before hanging up. Immediately, she pressed the contact again as she held her phone up to her ear.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, Charlie hoped her words would soothe Vaggie.
Although she wasn't holding out that much.
Even still, it brought Vaggie a minor amount of relief. Feeling Charlie's hand brought her reassurance as she pinched her brow and let out a deep sigh. Blinking her lone eye tiredly, she gave Charlie a weary but softer look. “...Did you get everyone out okay?”.
She gave a weak smile in turn. “Yep. All the staff and customers all got out okay. I made sure they didn't panic, and…hopefully they're alright while we figure this out”.
"Things would be more alright for us if your dad would just pick up the phone!!!!” She growled as she looked at the phone again to see it go to voicemail. “¡¡¡Ese payaso chillón de media pinta!!!” she seethed before working to leave her 17th message.
Charlie winced, before she looked around. “Any luck with Alastor?”.
Vaggie hung up on me again, before shoving her phone in her pocket with a huff. “He's not in his tower. I tried calling Rosie, but she hasn't seen him. I doubt he even has a cell phone”.
Her wince grew further, at this. Considering everything that she knew about Alastor, this rang truer than she wanted to admit.
‘...Well, I might as well…we might as well rip this band-aid off’ she thought to herself, stepping past Vaggie.
Immediately, Vaggie tried to reach for Charlie's shoulder but was too slow as Charlie marched with nervous conviction. She cursed under breath before her wings naturally unfurled again and she kicked up her spear into her grasp.
The two of them made their headway from the parlor room, into the common room of the Hotel. Like the rest of the Hotel, it was a minor mess. Shattered glass and mirrors covered the floor, and furniture was lightly askew.
Yet it was here that the source of the nervousness figuratively and literally stood.
In a corner of the room, all of the darkness seemed to naturally hang around the same spot.
In this darkness, where the lightbulbs above him were flickering dimly was a man. His flesh was fair skinned, unlike any sinner or hellborne or even Angel that Charlie has seen before.
He was tall. Probably a little shorter than Alastor in height, but was very heavyset. Despite this, his body carried power to it. He was more stocky than outright fat, even though his stomach was visible from the parting in his fur cloak thanks to his strange clothing .
Said clothing consisted of almost primitive materials and a olden style armor compared to all of the types she had seen in Hell.
Under his cloak, blue fabric along with brown leather partially covered his upper torso. A furred battle skirt hung down to his lower thighs, and golden buckled belts and straps contrasted the leather vambraces he wore. Finally, his heavy blue trousers ended in fabric wrappings, while his furred boots covered his massive feet.
His entire outfit had caused alarms to go off in Vaggie's head, despite having no idea why. Every silent breath the man took made her anxious. Seeing him calm while she was awaiting danger made her even more on edge. Even her wings were prepared for action, as she and Charlie approached even closer.
They came to a stop about 10 feet away from him, but the detail on his body seemed as if they were right before him.
Charlie gulped, as her eyes were drawn to the blue tattoos that covered his bare body and chest. It had to be from a time period she didn't recognize, and a place she wasn't familiar with. She had seen runes countless times in her life, from the ones on her father's belongings to the ones Alastor summoned when he was very eager or very angry.
But these runes?
These runic designs that were tattooed on the men's bare flesh were ancient. These runes were old. Likely as old as the faded scar on his chest, if not older.
The messy red hair on his head was likely the most normal thing about the man, given the amount of red constantly seen in Pentagram City and Hell as a whole. It was shaggy, unkempt, and came down to his shoulders under the cloak. A matching beard with woven braids came to his stomach, with a strange golden charm in the shape of an ‘A’.
And the most abnormal thing about him?
His eyes.
She couldn't stop staring at his eyes.
Even as his uninterested gaze was looking around the room, his blue eyes seemed to almost crackle. As if they were holding back a storm of storms within them.
“Something on your mind?”
His deep baritone voice brought Charlie out of her hesitant state, causing her to blink and straighten up.
His uncaring gaze was right on her.
She gulped instinctively while Vaggie grit her teeth behind her lips and clenched her spear.
Even despite the feelings of intimidation she felt, Charlie wouldn't be accused of being a bad host. She shakily cleared her throat, and did her best to straighten out her pansuit. “Um….I just wanted to say thanks for letting us…you know, get everyone out of the Hotel”
He stared at her.
“And for not destroying the building” she anxiously continued.
He blinked.
“....Even though you're still kind of scary and…you're able to move really fast and quietly.…somehow”. She trailed off the longer she spoke, and nervously touched her fingers together.
The man across from her simply just sighed. Instead of frustration, or annoyance, he just kept up the same tired gaze at Charlie. “Wouldn't be any point in stopping you. Didn't come to bring down your Hotel”.
Unfortunately, Vaggie didn't seem to be as grateful on this front. Her one eye glared at the man, while she stood stalwartly next to Charlie. “The broken glass and absolutely wrecked room says otherwise”.
A shrug was all she got from the man, which made her growl all the more before Charlie put her hands on Vaggie's shoulders to pacify her.
“Hahaha, why don't we just all calm down. I think we got off on the wrong foot” Charlie emphasized to Vaggie.
Her girlfriend huffed, but relented despite the glare she gave the man.
Suddenly, the man took a step forward. With one step, he made the equivalent of 3 strides forward. His lumbering form was before the two women before they could even blink.
The suddenness made Charlie gasp, and Vaggie immediately put herself between them as she bared her spear defensively.
…Only for the man to walk past them.
Both women blinked, as they had been anticipating some sort of reaction considering his size and movement.
But as they turned around, they were utterly confused as they watched the man grab one of the knocked over tables.
The bearded man easily grabbed a table, and set it back over towards the two of them. After, he went back over towards the rest of the common room.
“He's…..cleaning up?” Vaggie muttered with a raised eyebrow.
Charlie could only watch, just as bewildered. “I……I don't know”
This left Charlie & Vaggie confused, with their best guesses left up in the air.
Finally, the man returned with two seats. A cushioned stool from the bar, and a chair that belonged to one of the group circles.
He placed them on one side.
He turned back to them, and looked at them plainly and without any mocking. “We can't have a conversation, without places to sit”.
Charlie & Vaggie turned to one another, and blinked as if they had just been the subject to the punchline of a joke.
A genuine smile beamed itself onto Charlie's face. “O-oh! Thank you!”. Despite her hesitance, the act of kindness was earning points with her.
Vaggie was less grateful, as her suspicion only grew. Yet she followed Charlie's lead and took their respective seats at the table.
Looking around with some confusion at the lack of another seat, Charlie couldn't help but voice her concern. “Hang on. There's only two chairs. Where are you going to- oh nevermind”. Charlie trailed off cutely, seeing the man carrying an entire dresser over his shoulder. He set it down on his side of the table, and sat down on it just as easily.
His height made it the perfectly sized seat, considering the other options in the room that were comically too small.
The silence between the three of them was stifling. The awkwardness was moreso, and Charlie was doing her best to smile while Vaggie. ..well Vaggie was just glaring without any hesitation as the three of them sat together.
‘Well. It looks like it's up to me to break the ice...again’. Charlie was about to say something, only for the man to raise his hand to stop her.
“Ive got a gift for you” he spoke. It was simple and to the point.
Nervousness and anticipation filled the pair, as Vaggie's eye narrowed suspiciously and Charlie’s lips pursed. “Umm….a gift?”.
Nodding, he fetched out a brown bottle from his side. It looked to be rather old, all things considered. It was clay yet perfectly shaped, and has a cork at the top. “Yeah….the liquid kind”.
“Oh! Thank you!” Charlie beamed. “I'll get us some cups!!!”. With a snap of her fingers, Charlie conjured 3 mugs on the table for them in a burst of pink hellfire.
Each of the cups was bright pink, and had red shaped ceramic designs resembling Razzle & Dazzle. The wings curled on the mugs, and both of their tails met to form the handles of the mugs.
‘She's really getting the hang of that’ Vaggie couldn't help but admit. As much as she didn't want Charlie to let her guard down in a situation like this, she couldn't help but feel joy at the smile on Charlie's face.
As of late, Charlie had been practicing her magical skills. In her words, she wanted to ‘Get just as strong as everyone else’ when it came to standing against anyone who tried to hurt the Hotel or her family.
With some lessons from an ecstatic Lucifer who was all too eager to spend time with his daughter, she had progressed to properly being able to conjure a handful of sizable items per day.
The man hardly reacted, and instead looked at the bottle in his hands.
The way he stared at it definitely made Charlie cock her head. “Is everything okay….sir?”.
Instead of directly responding, he brushed off the dust from the bottle's face. Blowing gently, more dirt and dust spread off the face and to the table. He casually tossed the bottle up, and caught it again in his hand, almost reminiscing to himself. “...This bottle’s older than you. You too” he vaguely motioned to the two of them. “9,000- maybe 10,000 years old. It’s spiced. Has cinnamon and…a sweet honey blend”.
Pop!
He uncorked the bottle, and Charlie and Vaggie couldn't help but note the very sweet scent that filled their nostrils.
‘It really does smell like honey’ Charlie couldn't help but note. The sweet smell tickled her nose, and made her stomach rumble eagerly.
Vaggie however noted the high quality of the drink. She smelled the obvious alcoholic nature, considering her time in Heaven and with her recent work of helping Husk haul liquor behind the bar. The scent of cinnamon and honey blending together definitely appealed to her, while she did her best to school her features.
The man poured himself a cup, before pouring Vaggie & Charlie’s. It appeared that there was just enough for the 3 of them, as the bottle emptied as Charlie's mug was filled. He casually slid the mugs their ways, before pocketing the bottle.
A subtle elbow from Charlie prevented Vaggie from bringing up the concept of a possibly poisoned drink, causing the fallen Angel to say her shoulders and grumble as she took her mug alongside Charlie.
“Thank you for the drink!” the princess chirped, as she was about to take a drink.
“Thank the First Man. Was his recipe"
The words sent a chill through Charlie, and Vaggie's reaction was instantaneous.
Crash!
Her grey skinned hand smacked the mug out of Charlie's hand, sending the liquid and the porcelain shattering against the wall to the left.
“Is this some kind of joke???!” She demanded while standing up and pointing her spear at him. Her eye was burrowing into the man, as her wings splayed out in a rage. Her left wing was blocking the man's view of Charlie, despite the latter’s attempt to move past her.
“V-vaggie!” Charlie tried to cut in, only for Vaggie to demand of the man again.
“No more games gordo!!!”.
But the man wasn't so easily baited. He continued looking tired, as he gazed from the Angelic Steel spear to the dripping beverage from the wall. “.....Could've just said no. Seems like a waste of good mead” he muttered with a sigh.
Just as Charlie was going to pull Vaggie aside and try to keep the peace-
Thunk!
The sudden sound caused both women to turn immediately towards the source.
The man had boldly but gently dropped his weapon onto the table in front of him.
The two of them blinked owlishly at the absolutely massive short handled hammer that sat before them.
The weapon could barely be called that. It was more like a work of destructive beauty.
The head was thicker than either of their hands were long, and the silver metal shone in the light of the room.
More runes were carved into the sides, and some of them actually looked similar to Alastor's own runes. Even if this was by pure coincidence.
The gold decorations were woven like fine silk, as they were draped over the material perfectly before it came down to the butt of the handle.
Brown leather straps were tight on the handle, and the rich wood was even further complimented by the creativity that had gone into the weapon.
Still staring like fish, Vaggie and Charlie looked up slowly at the man.
With a flat gaze, he silently motioned to the weapon with both hands. Almost as if to say ‘happy now?’.
An awkward cough left Charlie's mouth, and she managed to pull Vaggie back down to her seat. “I'm sorry about Vaggie. It's just….Adam is a really really sensitive subject down here”. Her words were laced with as much empathy as she could muster under the circumstances. “I think we should start over. My name is Charlie Morningstar” she motioned to herself. “This is my partner, Vaggie”.
Vaggie frowned, but crossed her arms silently with her spear by her side.
To their surprise, the man nodded. “Thor. Thor Adamkin”.
Once again, suspicion filled Vaggie's face. “Why are you here?”.
“A little bird told me that Adam was dead”. Thor took a hold of his mug. He gazed down at the mead inside, watching his reflection. “I already thought he was dead before. You can see why I would be…..confused hearing this”.
The two women shared an uneasy look. But nonetheless, Charlie did her best to try and press for anything useful. “I see…..are you from Heaven?”.
“No. Heard about it, but never been there”. He rumbled with a shrug.
This made Vaggie's eye widen in confusion. ‘He's here because of Adam, but he wasn't sent by Heaven?’. Such a development made her wonder if she should be relieved or even more suspicious. “Wait. Are you a...human?” She couldn't help but wonder.
Thor paused his gazing into the mug, and looked up at Vaggie. His eyes, if just for a moment, were filled with emotion and memory. “I’m son to my mother. Child of the loving earth. Someone who got a second chance he didn't deserve. Even when he made every mistake possible”.
These words pulled Charlie in, as she leaned closer. Everything about this caught her attention, and made her wish to know more.
He sighed deeply, but rolled his neck letting out several cracks. But his face finally carried even just a little emotion, as he faced them. “The old me would've crushed this whole building and tore everyone inside to mulch. Believe me when I say who I am ain't important. What I've became…is change”.
Charlie blinked.
Everything that had just come out of his mouth was resonating with her beliefs.
Her dream.
Despite the threat this man posed, he was the only person aside from Emily who had such conviction in personal and emotional betterment.
….And he somehow knew Adam personally?
“...Mr Thor?” she managed to say, after working up the courage. “How exactly did you…know Adam?”.
His gaze softened further, before he took his cup again. “Do me a favor. Give the mead a try”.
Her eyes turned to the other remaining mug of the drink.
‘Mead’.
The name of the unfamiliar beverage rang through her head, and she didn't hesitate to take the mug in her hands.
“Wha- Charlie!” Vaggie tried to interject, but her girlfriend wouldn't be dissuaded.
The mug in her hands felt cool. Charlie gave the mead a sniff, and she got a much better smell of its sweet scent.
Honey.
Cinnamon.
Pepper.
With a deep breath, she brought it to her lips and gave it a sip as an explosion of flavor hit her like she was run down by her father's own limousine.
The obvious alcoholic tang crawled down her throat, but it was an otherwise absolutely wonderful drink. Even with the scents she smelled, she was able to note so many more tastes in the drink.
Ginger.
Vanilla.
Orange.
Berries.
‘I thought dads ‘Sinsmas Holiday Cider’ was good. But this?’. It was only a matter of seconds before she had knocked back the mug and drank the entire thing to Vaggie's shock.
Licking her lips, Charlie raised a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. “That was- that was wonderful. Thank you” she smiled bashfully.
Thor shrugged. He raised his own mug to his face, took a deep inhale and closed his eyes. After letting out a breath, he set the mug down and slid it across the table. “Help yourself”.
She didn't need to be told twice. Charlie happily took the second mug, and downed it just as quickly. The sensations on her tongue were like fireworks, and her mind was wracked by new inspiration for her dream maps and posters to advertise the Hotel.
The eagerness at which Charlie had consumed both mugs of mead had absolutely floored Vaggie. As much as she wanted to berate her for drinking what could be a poisoned drink, she could only look warily at the man across from them who was giving many conflicting signs and signals.
Thor took the empty mug on the table, before dipping his fingers inside. He dragged his wet fingers across the face of his weapon in a somber ritualistic manner. “Adam wouldn't stop bugging me to teach him how to brew” he mused to himself. “Once I gave him that first sip, he was hooked. Dumb bastard drank himself asleep for 2 days straight. Azura really let him have it after that. ”.
Vaggie’s brow furrowed, as she did her best to gain any information possible from the context clues.
“I knew Adam. Knew him after he was kicked from Eden. Knew his son and daughter, and I knew their son's sons and daughters. I walked with em, laughed with em, watched em grow, and saw em spread across the lands. I sat with Adam and stayed with him as he died”.
Vaggie's hand tightened on the shaft of her spear, but Charlie's hand firmly squeezing her thigh under the table held her back.
As for Charlie, she had confliction painted all across her face.
Finally, Thor inhaled deeply before taking his head in his hands.
Crack!
Craaack!
The two women visibly cringed at the notably loud sounds of his neck cracking which filled the room. Thor turning his head physically was so loud that it could be felt through the table as vibrations. The popping of his neck gave him a sigh of relief, and he appeared…actually awake.
He grabbed his makeshift seat from between his legs, and scooted forward so he was leaning on the table. “Ive spoken plenty. You got something to say, go ahead”.
Crossing her fingers, Charlie took a deep breath as she did her best to formulate her words. “Um…well, okay. Thank you for sharing that Mr Thor. Well originally Adam….died and went to Heaven.”
“Arguably” Vaggie muttered, before Charlie's hoof under the table silenced her.
“Ahem. And a lot of stuff happened after that. But recently, he….well-”
“Was stabbed about 15 times by our resident maid, and then we buried him in the garden out back” came the apathetic voice of her Fallen Angel girlfriend.
Charlie's mouth was pulled into a very tight line, as she stared at Vaggie with masked annoyance. Unfortunately, it seemed that her implicit frustration was purposely ignored as Vaggie took a moment to simply look at her nails coyly.
Luckily, Thor didn't seem to be affected by this. At least not in a way that Charlie could see. He looked at his empty mug for a moment, before dipping his fingers inside again and rubbing the drops onto his hammer. “Hm. Was it a good death?”.
The question made Charlie blink.
‘....I didn't think that there was such a thing as a good death. Isn't all death bad?’. The concept of such a thing was entirely foreign to her, and she could only look at Vaggie for any possible assistance.
In turn, Vaggie shook her head. “No, it wasn't. But it was a better one than he deserved”.
Thrun!!!!
The hammer on the table jolted.
As if it suddenly was hooked up to a power grid, electricity coursed through it as the runes etched into the metal glowed. The blue lightning crackled, and the hammer practically vibrated in place on the table.
Vaggie immediately placed her arm in front of Charlie protectively, and the two watched the strange display with worry and hesitance.
But to their surprise, Thor simply ran his hand along the head of the hammer. Like a farmer soothing a beast of burden, his large and calloused hands caressed the face of the weapon. He muttered some words under his breath that Charlie couldn't hear despite her best attempt to try to.
Eventually, the glow disappeared and all that was left was smoke sifting off into the air from the heated up stain of mead.
Sssssssss!
The sheer sight of the weapon seemingly thrashing about, only to be calmed by Thor’s hand caused Charlie & Vaggie to feel the umpteenth shock of today. They both slowly looked up at Thor with reservation and awkwardness.
Finally seeming to pacify the formerly lighting charged weapon, Thor let out another sigh before casually resting his hand on the Hammer. “....Sorry about that. You were saying?”.