nomoreroom | An Alastor RP Catchall

Descending into Hell was not Raphael's idea of fun. However his niece, Charlie, was a sweet girl and he did offer to help her however he could. Even with someone as distasteful as the Radio Demon, of all people.

The angel gripped his staff tightly as he rode the warm currents. He spotted the hotel and landed close by. He ignored a rather homophobic slurs yelled at him by a demon probably due to him wearing a robe.

Raphael rolled his eyes, prayed to Heaven for patience, and walked into the Happy Hotel itself. He looked around for the demon in question.

If it was any consolation, talking with an angel wasn't exactly Alastor's definition of a great day either. It'd taken more than just Charlie asking him- Well no, begging him, cajoling him, pleading and making grand offers at him. It'd taken much, much more than that.

It'd taken a direct face to face chit chat with Lucifer himself, behind closed doors, to put Alastor in this situation; waiting, smile ever in place, in the lobby of the hotel.

It was unfair, ever, to call the smile on the Radio Demon's face strained, no matter what the emotion inside. He wore that grin like it was the most natural expression in the world, but there was a decided, vicious sharpness to it that betrayed the actual, seething anger bubbling just under that cheerful grin.

A hiss and pop, a soft crackle, and the demon spoke, ever sounding like that voice was being filtered through an ancient vacuum tube radio.

"About time you showed up! You almost missed me. I thought angels were supposed to be a little more punctual!" Forcefully cheerful. Violently chipper. Definitely displeased.

"Stealin's a sin, son, and this is gratuitous theft of my time."

Edited 2019-05-04 06:31 (UTC)

Son? Raphael was sure he had a few thousand years on him. His lips pursed ever so slightly but then relaxed as he decided to let it go.

Whoever was responsible for Alastor's demon form certainly had a dark sense of humor. The great southern hunter...now a deer. Cute.

"Yes, perhaps we can make that up to you in other ways." Raphael retrieved a set of folders from his satchel to put on the chair side table next to him. There were four of them and each an inch thick.

"Michael's files on you were extensive. Not my usual light reading."

Raphael gave Alastor a look over once more. This was gonna be a piece of work to deal with. Why in Heaven's name was Charlie so instant on this one?

"Let's get down to the point then. What do you really want?"

There's more annoying nicknames and endearments to come, don't you worry, Raphael.

His posture was relaxed, despite the obvious displeasure, his head in his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair, long crimson nails tapping delicately against his cheek as the angel dug out a great deal of paperwork. All about him? Well, he's positive none of them have anything good to say.

He's absolutely flattered, and leans forward just a hair to reach for one such folder, obviously curious as to what Heaven's been saying about him. It better be terrifying.

The second once over he got was met with a smug, razor toothed leer back.

"What, Charlie didn't tell you?" Oh Charlie got to have her name, apparently. Everyone else got stupid pet names, okay.

"I'm just here to help with the Hotel, of course, what else would I possibly want then to see all these poor damned souls redeemed?" Which was an obvious lie, but it definitely accomplished what he was aiming for, as far as he was concerned. Not answering the question!

He raised his right palm upward and curled two fingers forward causing a chair behind the angel to move forward for him to take a seat. Unfortunately Raphael sat wrong and had to squirm a bit to adjust his wings over the arm rest.

A white hand with black fingers pulled the files back away from Alastor.

"My niece is under the impression that you contain some sort of redeeming quality to you." Emphasis on the singular rather than the plural.

Putting the folders on his lap he opened the third one and flipped through a few pages before pulling out a glossy photograph. He turned it around to show Alastor a detailed photograph of one of his more bloody massacres.

"Oh, we have a pretty good idea of what else you could possibly want. So how about we save both ourselves the trouble and drop the goody two shoes act?"

Just a snort from Alastor as the angel was forced to fuss with his wings for a moment. A short noise, little better than a burst of static, but obvious enough. Apparently he found the awkward action entertaining enough.

He nearly, just nearly attempted to vindictively spear the files with one needle sharp claw, but thought better of it, drawing back to his seat to watch Raphael thumb through the pages, expression hooded.

Oh! He remembered that one. The sudden, pleasant laugh seemed to indicate a charmed feeling of nostalgia from Alastor. You know, like Raphael had tugged out a snapshot of a lake party.

Rather than someone apparently getting their tongue spooled out of their mouth like salt water taffy.

"Hey, look at that! Ha haaa, almost forgot that one! Ah, what year was that, they do start to blend together after a while. Tug out one guy's tongue, you've tugged 'em all out." Implying this has happened more than once.

"Before I answer that, what's what I what have to do with you bein' here? Because I'm pretty sure whatever I want isn't usually of any concern to the boys in white upstairs.

What do you want?"

"July 24, 1927."

Ah, that was the million dollar question wasn't it? There was, in fact, something in it for Raphael but how much of that should he reveal to the deer demon? Anything that the angel said could be used against him at any time, for any reason.

Not to mention there was no way to make Alastor answer truthfully or answer at all. It was a dangerous game where one needed to think more than a few steps ahead.

The angel paused for quite a long time thinking of his answer. Then he spoke.

"I want to help my niece even though I already told her you would be a waste of time and energy. I want to go home and forget about you. But I know you won't change out of the goodness of your heart so I want to find something else to motivate you." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the complete truth either.

Edited 2019-05-05 02:36 (UTC)

"Oh, I had six more years to go then! If I'd known then what I know now, I would have invested a little more in bear traps. Hindsight's twenty twenty, right?" Still happily dancing around the subject at hand. As far as he was concerned, he didn't need to do any business with heaven.

Not unless their emissary planned on being a little more open with their goals here.

Something he finally got to, after this little verbal two step had carried on for long enough, it seemed.

"And what's that motivation going to be, sport? Not money, I know that! Power? I got plenty of that and the creeping suspicion that Heaven isn't too keen on me getting any more of it!

So, are you offering me a ticket out?"

"Money is rather pointless when you become an incorporeal being." Raphael agreed. The power guess was spot on Alastor. The last thing Heaven was another would be upstart thinking they were the next Satan incarnate. Well, let's get to it shall we?

"It's not a permanment ticket out, Little Fawn." Raphael answered, "But yes, an opportunity to hunt on the surface once again as you did in decades past."

Got it and got it, he was indeed exceedingly pleased with himself to have read this so well. Now he knew just what the bargaining chip was. That self-satisfied expression sharpened once more, however, at the name, though it was allowed to slip without a comment on it.

He'd not even dignify that stupid moniker with a response.

"Well then, what's the catch? Isn't permanent, so either this is going to be a little postmortem parole, or heaven's in the market for a brand new attack dog they can send out when the rabble acts up.

Which one is it, slugger?"

Alastor was the one who started it with the moniker nonsense. What's good for the gander is good for the goose after all. Don't hurt yourself patting yourself on the back.

"The second." Raphael replied rather calmly as if he was ordering tea. It would be of no advantage to keep that tidbit from the Radio Demon. Just by paying attention to the victims anyone would be able to figure it out.

"You know, in ancient times, naming was seen as an important step in a person's life. Your name wasn't chosen because it was pretty sounding back then. For example my name, Raphael, comes from ancient Hebrew. 'El' was an old word for 'God' and 'Raph' meant 'healing'. Do you know the origen of the term 'Alastor'?"

He has no regrets, and he'll continue to be aggressively shitty, it's one of the many, many things he knows he's very good at.

"I'm no idiot, friend, I know what the name means." He could piece the correlation between his name and what Heaven might have in mind for him.

"So I'm going to guess you want me to head upstairs every now and again to lay low a particularly impressive sinner whenever Heaven doesn't have the time or energy to dispatch someone a little more palatable for the job.

Now a vacation's all fine and dandy, but I got two questions.

One: what's the catch? Can't just send a murderer up and expect him to not be a little indiscriminate. You did just say you don't expect me to change for the sake of changing!

Which brings me to two: what do I get for doing all this? A little fun? A chance to smell the sulfur-free air? Or do you got a better carrot to dangle in front of my nose?"

Well he's good at it there's no denying that.

Christ give him patience. The demon wanted a better carrot other than getting out of this smelly armpit that Lucifer called a relm? This disgusting backwater imbecile populace? Raphael gave him a look he only reserved for those who were clearly fucking with him and those who were just plain dumb. Jury's still out which one this was.

"You're going to have to be discriminate. You'll have one mission and one mission only and that's to dispatch those who condemn themselves to die. How you do it we don't particularly care but that you remain on target is what's most important to us."

Raphael gave another sigh. He couldn't force Alastor to do anything and that was the frusterating part. Even in a state of total damnation the demon, by virtue of being born human, still had the divine right of free will. The most an angel could do was snap his fingers and instantly transport him back to Hell due to his state of damnation.

But that didn't mean everything was hopeless. Raphael still had one more trick up his sleeve before he had to turn back to Charlie in failure.

"You can't kill." He told Alastor plainly, "Sure you can maim, cruelly torture, take over, and what not but demons can't kill other demons without angel steel and from my understanding of your market down here there's very little of it and high demand."

The angel put the files back in his satchel and stood, "But fine. Stay here in this fetid stink pool that you call a home. One serial killer is no different from another and I don't doubt I'll get plenty of takers. I'll find another avenging spirit and tell Charlie that you weren't interested. And you'll stay here, rotting shoulder to shoulder with the worst of humanity, until Judgement Day and trumpets sound provided you survive to that point. Have a nice afterlife."

"Looks like I struck a nerve there, friend." He didn't bat an eye, didn't even budge.

"See, here's the thing. Sure, sure I could go up and murder every terrible, murderous, baby eating rapist who ever shook his fist at his wife. I could go up and down and up and down and up and down forever and ever until the sun burns out and those damn trumpets sound.

I could do that. But what's the guarantee that it'll end any different for me either way, hm?

So far, you've pitched a great job, my friend, a fantastic job, but I haven't actually heard you guarantee me freedom. No second chances, no reincarnation if I toe the line and rip out the throats of only the worst of the worst.

I need to hear you tell me, and tell it to me plainly, friend, tell it to me like I'm five, and I know you can do that.

Tell me, to my face, without mincing words, that I'll eventually earn an out. Promise me that I won't just be cutting assholes and grinding up the dregs of society into mincemeat for the heavenly equivalent of a participation trophy.

All I need to hear, is you promising me, that one day, if I play by all your rules, I won't be going back to Hell, or erased from existence."

Raphael actually blinked at that. He blinked once more and then sat down. Not because the angel was stupid or the request was stupid but because from the general spin of demonic and earthly media nobody actually wanted to leave Hell.

According to popular, and rather wrong, knowledge Hell was where the party was. Hell had all the interesting creative people. Heaven was a lame place where the blessed supposedly spent their time making macaroni art of how alcoholism destroys families or whatever the fuck humans thought Heaven was like. Hey, they got South Park up there just like everywhere else.

"I'm sorry we're going to have to retread for a minute just in case I misunderstood you. You actually want to leave Hell for Heaven?"

"I want to leave Hell. Don't get me wrong, friend. I don't want to have a chit-chat with old Saint Pete like this."

He wasn't about to lie about that, after having to deal with the Exterminator's more than his fair share of times, he wasn't in any hurry to go see where they all came from.

"Now I don't mean setting me loose on an ignorant, unprepared population either! I want a clean slate, I hear that happens from time to time. I know how this story ends, friend, I went to church once, I picked up a bible, I read it cover to cover.

If Judgement Day rolls around and I'm still down here, well that's it for me, no pardons after that.

Now I don't think I need to explain to you why the idea of being endlessly trapped in a maximum security prison rubs me the wrong way.

I do what you want, I listen to what you say, I kill who you want dead, and you promise me a second chance. We both know I'm too far gone, we both know I can't change.

Not like this.

But with a fresh start...."

Supposedly with God all things were possible and this was one Hell of thing, no pun intended. But it was also the closest thing Alastor would probably ever get to redemption and that was what Charlie was after. At least the radio demon didn't insult his intelligence by assuming that Raphael didn't have the idea of Alastor just going serial killer all over again in his mind.

This was going to take some higher authority. It wasn't impossibe but it wasn't going to happen without the right price. Raphael reached into his satchel to pull out one of the deer demon's files. When year was Alastor's first kill?

And he sat back again, chin back into his hand, grin eternally in place. Odd, how the expression could still be considered unreadable, his gaze locked on the file.

He'd been in his early thirties when he'd passed, the date of his first murder fourteen years prior.

1919, he'd certainly gotten started young, hadn't he?

Very. Okay let's pitch this to He who is in the highest.

Raphael slipped the file back into his satchel again and sat down to focus. His eyes closed and his normally white fur began to glow with blue signals in many different but ancient languages: Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Aramaic. The ram horns on his head glowed white as he recieved his answer.

His eyes opened up in pure blue light.

"You've spilled much blood, caused much suffering. A hundred years you've torn your way through two planes of existence." Raphael intoned, "Are you willing to trade a hundred years of service for a clean slate?"

That expression still unreadable, he still shifted forward, just a bit, examining the angel from where he sat as light coursed through the entity.

No comment, no words for once, the angel would be allowed to work in peace, until the question was posed.

A hundred years was a long time. Long for a once mortal, anyway, the eighty plus years he'd spent wreaking havoc across Hell, as lively as it was, had not passed quickly by any means.

But, a hundred years was still a better offer than eternity, wasn't it?

"Deal. You have yourself a trashman."

The light faded from Raphael's eyes but not from the rest of him. They still had to make a pact after all.

"I, Raphael, on behalf of He Who Is Above All, maker of Heaven and Earth, of all things visible and invisible, do make this solemn pact with Alastor the Radio Demon of Hell:

That in return for dispatching those who have condemned themselves to die and only those who have condemned themselves to die for a hundred years time do solemnly pledge to absolve his soul of sin and relinquish his freedom. To reincarnate him back into the world of the living with a pure and clean slate in order to give him a second chance to avoid the obliteration of the damned at the Day of Judgement.

Should any innocent life on Earth be quenched outside of the target than this holy contract is null and void."

He offered his hand to Alastor to shake and seal the contract, "Do you so swear?"

Pretty solid wording on that, very impressive.

And in return, that clawed hand extended to grip the angel's, firm and confident.

"Swear it, cross my heart and hope to die, again."

It did have to be official.

Raphael squeezed back, "Gloria. Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus in excelsis Deo."

The bright blue light moved from him and formed a mark on the back of Alastor's hand. Nothing that couldn't be covered by a fasionable glove. The light faded from Raphael completely and he let go of Alastor's hand.

He'd note well that mark on his hand, definitely going to have to get a glove for that. There wasn't many in Hell who would choose to risk their lives by actively mocking him, but hey.

He didn't need to clutter up his suddenly much fuller schedule with having to continuously curb stomp some mouthy newcomer.

"So, that's it until I get a call, I'm going to assume?"

"Yes." The angel agreed standing up, "I'll start the work of finding someone particularly loathsome for you. For the next hundred years we're partners."

((I've hope you've been enjoying this as much as me! Should we start a new one so that this one doesn't get cluttered up with comments?))

An Alastor RP Catchall

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