Charlie's Home For Wayward Kids part 2

from /hhg/ - Hazbin Hotel General Thread #199
part 1: https://pastebin.com/WRmUWCs8
-----
Chapter Two: Charlie's Home for Wayward Kids
An Unexpected Visitor

>the four of them are greeted shortly by both Razzle and Dazzle
>the sight of both of them has her breathing out a deep sigh of relief
>that they're both here means things aren't as dire as she had dreamed they were
>and that Razzle and Dazzle might have been able to coax Vaggie out of wherever she had holed up
>Angel pats her face and makes a soft noise that has her smiling
"I'm okay little one," Charlie says smiling at him. Turning her attention to Razzle and Dazzle she asks: "Please tell me that everything is okay."
>they both nod eagerly, and gesture for her to hand off the little ones in her arms
>well, now that they're inside there's no harm in letting them down
>Nifty is already darting in loose circles around her butlers, chattering in Japanese about how cute they are
>Charlie kneels and sets both Pentious and Angel down
"I'd like you all to meet Razzle--" here Razzle bows "--and Dazzle," Charlie says, making a sweeping gesture towards them as Dazzle echoes the bow
>she gently presses a hand to Pentious' small back and adds:
"Razzle and Dazzle this is Sir Pentious," Charlie says, ignoring the sharp, confused look the tiny snake shoots her, "and I believe you recognize Nifty and Angel Dust."
>the goat boys both nod and step forward as one
>Angel reaches for Razzle, who steps forward and sweeps him up (despite Razzle not being all that much bigger than even this tiny version of Angel)
>Dazzle offers his arm to Sir Pentious, who, after a moment of hesitation, takes it
>between the two of them Charlie gets the gist of their plans: feed and bathe the young ones and put them to bed with the others
"And Vaggie's sorted out too?"
>Razzle makes a so-so motion with one hoof and signs that he'll explain later
"{What's going on?}" Nifty asks, darting over
>Charlie winces, realizing that her introductions had all been in English and that Nifty probably hadn't caught most of it
>had Angel?
-
"{Razzle and Dazzle,}" Charlie starts, gesturing at each goat boy in turn, "{help you... food and rest.}"
>Nifty turns back to them and tips her head to one side
"{Do they understand?}" She asks
>Razzle and Dazzle exchange a look and Dazzle gives her his version of a thumbs up
"{Oh! Do they talk? They're so cute I just want to hug them! What's for dinner?}" Nifty asks, and then a thousand other things that Charlie can't quite keep up with
>Dazzle offers her his other hoof and leads the children deeper into the hotel
>Charlie stands in the lobby, trying not to feel entirely bereft now that her immediate responsibilities have been relieved
>she shakes herself out of after a moment and collapses on the couch, pressing her hands to her face
>she doesn't know what she's going to do now
>or how easy it will be to return things to normal
>or whether or not it's even possible to return them to their adult selves
>were the people they had been gone forever?
>Vaggie...
>eyes burning Charlie takes a shuddering breath and swipes at her eyes
>she's going to cry...
>there is a knock on the door
>sharp and crisp and echoing softly through the hotel in a way that suggested the use of magic
>shakily, Charlie stands and swipes at her eyes
>she swallows down the growing sense of dread and dejavu
>it feels almost like the day Alastor had swanned into their lives
>the knock comes again, a little sharper than before
>steeling herself, Charlie opens the door
-
>standing on the other side is someone quite familiar to her:
>taller only because of his ridiculous hat (without it she's got a couple inches on him!)
>dressed in a pristine white and pink suit, carrying an apple-capped staff, and staring at her coolly from underneath perfectly coifed blond hair
"Dad," Charlie breathes and throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around him
>he smells just as she remembers: high winter, fresh apples and cinnamon
>Lucifer huffs a soft breath and pats her gently on the back
"Appleseed, I hope that you don't mind that I've stopped by without notice," he says
"Not at all," she says, releasing him and bouncing in place, "have you come to see the hotel?"
>it wasn't the best time, but she had been trying to get her father down here since she and Vaggie had gotten it ready
"No, but I have come to speak with you," he tells her and offers his arm, "shall we?"
>Charlie takes her father by the arm and leads him inside and to the sitting room
>and tries not to worry about what he wants to discuss with her
>her father glances over the decor with disinterest
>does he like it? Sure, Alastor and Nifty had largely taken over regarding the decor, but Charlie still wanted him to be impressed with what they have built here
>this was her hotel, her dream, and Charlie was still enough of a child that she wanted her father to like and be impressed by what she did
>he says nothing, and once they reach the sitting room summons himself a set of tea and gestures for her to take a seat
"So what did you want to talk about?" Charlie asks, sitting across from him and trying not to feel like she was in for a scolding
>Lucifer takes his time doctoring his tea and stares at her steadily over the top of it once it is made to his satisfaction
-
"Charlotte, I sincerely hope you are quite ready to defend yourself," he says, finally. "All of Hell is aware of what has happened here today and that the Radio Demon is compromised. Should you continue to harbor him here his enemies will become yours, child, as will those who will try to destroy him--and you--just to say that they did."
>Charlie's mouth drops open
"Are you telling me to abandon him?" Charlie shouts, standing, "I can't do that! I couldn't abandon any of them! Dad, they don't remember the things they did to wind up here!"
"How very convenient for your dream, hm?" Lucifer asks, eyes closed and smile surprisingly gentle for once
"D-do you think I did this?" Charlie says, sinking back to the couch. "I wouldn't--"
>he holds up a hand, telling her to quiet herself
"No, Appleseed, I don't think you did--you simply lack the expertise for it!--but I don't think you're above taking advantage of it," he touches one hand to the brim of his hat, "and this might even work!"
>Charlie gapes at him for a moment, a dozen responses fighting for dominance
>she drops her gaze to her clenched hands and asks:
"But is it really redemption if we're erasing everything they were?"
>Lucifer makes a considering noise and leans back against the couch
"All humans are sinners, little one," he says, "and as you know the most egregious of them wind up here. Have you ever asked yourself, dear child, what drove them to sin in the first place? Circumstance? Or is sin simply inherent to human souls? Why, isn't this just the perfect opportunity to find out?"
>Charlie shakes her head
"Maybe, but I want them to choose redemption of their own free will!"
>her nails are biting into the skin of her palms, but she hasn't made her point yet:
"It doesn't mean much as much if we wipe the slate clean and leave them ignorant to their sins in the first place!"
-
"Have you forgotten what your goal is, child?" Her father asks as his face falls into shadow and his eyes gleam red. "Wasn't it to redeem enough souls that the extermination was no longer necessary? Isn't insisting on a... true redemption counter-intuitive when a much more efficient option is available?"
>Charlie's heart swells--her father has been listening to her!--as her belly curdles
"And if we insist on efficiency we might as well let Heaven do whatever they want!"
"I don't think it's a matter of letting them, Appleseed," Lucifer says, tapping his fingers on his staff
>Charlie sighs and runs a hand over her face
"Dad, why are you really here? Aren't I supposed to be--what did you say--falling on my face? Learning my lesson the hard way?"
>Lucifer hums and leans forward to refill his tea, and with a wiggle of a finger lets it doctor itself
"I wanted to ask you about the spell you used to seal the Radio Demon's powers," he says, withdrawing a thin tablet from his jacket
>Lucifer flips it open and taps it to start the queued video
>curious, Charlie leans forward to watch:
>it turns out to be a shaky video of the very end of the battle, Alastor's uncontrolled power, Charlie's approach and sealing of said power, and--most damning, but not surprising given that her father said Everyone knew--her walking away with child-Alastor
>the sound is spotty, the demon taking the video breathing and talking too loudly over it to really catch the incantation
"Please tell me, my darling daughter, that you did not use your Mother's spell on that miscreant," Lucifer says lowly.
"Mom made that spell?" Charlie asks, "It was the one the Von Eldritch's used on Hilda when she was a baby."
>Luficer sighs
"Well, this wasn't how I planned to become a grandfather."
"W-wait, what!"
-----
>upstairs a boy wakes with a sharp breath, red eyes glowing in the dark
>and immediately goes still
>the surroundings are unfamiliar: the window is in the wrong place and what light comes through it is the wrong color
>the furnishings are fancier than any that have ever been in the house
>and smell faintly of apple cobbler
>how did he--?
>had Frank done something?
>the boy sits up slowly, careful not to make noise, and tries to remember how he got here:
>there's a blonde girl, twisting shadow-monsters, and pain unlike any other he has felt before
>heart racing he runs his hands over his face, chest and arms looking for the terrible wounds he remembers taking
>nothing, but the texture of his skin is all wrong, almost like he's touching velvet instead of skin
>and he seems to be dressed in rags so shredded that not even his mother would insist on salvaging them
>that girl... she had called him Al, hadn't she?
>that felt almost, but not quit right; he couldn't remember what he was usually called...
>and 'Al' was as good a name as any
>frowning to himself--he still didn't know how he'd got here--Al takes good look at the room, hoping to jog his memory
>except... he shouldn't be able to see so well in the dark
>and something--the shadows?--seem eager to tell him where everything is
>there's something very girly about the room; stuffed animals, a fancy vanity in the corner, and walls full of pictures and paintings
>not that Al's ever been in a girl's room
>Mom's didn't count
>speaking of Mom... where was she?
>Al swallows the urge to call out for her; it's best to be quiet until he knows where he is and why
>Frank had taught him that much
-
>he slips quietly from the bed, only to almost immediately fall over
>Al catches him against the nightstand which rattles noisily
>there is something wrong with his legs
>he freezes, ears straining for any sign of someone coming to check out the noise
>when his heart slows AL balances carefully on one uncertain foot, keeping one hand on the table, raises his other leg and runs his other hand along it
>that...
>that isn't how legs work;
>it's longer than it should be and there's an extra joint near the knee, making it bend differently than it should
>it was more like an animal's leg world work than a person's
>quietly freaked out, but unable to do anything about it, Al lowers his leg back to the floor
>and with careful, uncertain steps makes his way to the window
>he nearly falls several times on the short journey, even when using the wall for balance
>the outside view is nothing like he's ever seen before:
>A murky purple sky with what looks like a red glowing star within a red glowing circle floating far above the city
>a city made of buildings taller than any he's ever seen, with brightly glowing signs in a multitude of colors
>where--
>he's never heard of a place like this, and surely a city like this would be famous
>wouldn't it?
>there is part of Al that feels completely displaced
>but another, the one that always seems to get him in trouble, wants to explore
>Al stands at the window, craning to get a better look
>until he sees a sign that chills his blood:
>"W E L C O M E to HELL" in bright lights with an arrow on the side pointing to the ground
-
"Hell?" Al whispers, hugging himself
>was this a rotten joke or was he really in Hell?
>kids didn't go to Hell, did they?
>did that mean he was dead?
>was his Mom okay?
>he didn't remember dying...
>the last he remembered--before the girl and the shadows and the pain--was his mother running Frank off with her old Winchester
>she'd caught Frank giving him a solid hiding and had reacted with all the grace of an angry gator
>afterwards she'd taken Al by the hand, collected their valuables and necessities, and had brought him to a small shack near the edge of a swamp
>Mom had said the land once belonged to his Father and that he was to keep mum about it; they weren't meant to be there
>Grandmother Rose, who now owned the land, didn't like them; the one and only time he'd met her she'd taken one look at him down her nose and said he'd had the devil in him and reminded his mother that she wanted nothing to do with them
>if he was in Hell, was Grandmother right about him?
>Al shakes his head and turns away from the window
>as much as he misses her, he hopes his Mom isn't here
>if there is one person in the world that doesn't belong in Hell it's his mom
>he's had a look outside and now
>he wants a look at himself; the legs and texture of his skin and the strange itchiness on his face and chest...
>if his sense from the shadows is right the bathroom is...
>Al picks his way across the room, carefully balancing himself with the nearby furniture
>and slips inside the bathroom through the cracked door
>it seems that the shadows do know their way around
>Al takes a moment to hunt for the light
>only to freeze when he catches sight of glowing red eyes
>he strains his ears, listening for another person in the room
>after several moments of nothing Al flicks the light on
>the light is blinding, but when nothing attacks him he squints through his fingers
>only to find himself staring at them:
-
>his fingers--his hands, really--are ink black except for the blood red tip of each--clawed?--finger and red spots over his knuckles
>that darkness continues partway up his forearm, where it becomes thick blood red fur
>now even more curious what he looks like Al turns towards the full-length mirror
>and balks
>who thought that haircut looked good?
>and the hair--red and black; the length would have had his mother reaching for the scissors--isn't even the worst part:
>the eyes easily are: red-on-red, the whites of his eyes replaced with a red deeper and brighter than that of blood
>had he been spooked by his own eyes earlier?
>and what was that on his eyelids? Make-up? He hoped not
>he wasn't a girl and even the harlots in town didn't use so much
>his skin had gone a weird grey color, too, similar to what he imagined the skin of a dead body might look like
>and he was dressed in what might have once been a nice coat... for a giant
>Al slips off the coat--more curious than ever--for a better look
>he's covered in something red-brown that flakes off when touched (and under which he itches)
>dried blood? He had been wounded earlier, hadn't he?
>the red fur on his arms stops partway between elbow and shoulder where it smooths out and becomes the same grey as his face and chest
>the fur starts up again at his waist; black down his belly and the inside of his legs--picking up again towards the... hooves?--and red everywhere else
>Where was his--how is he meant to go to the bathroom? Do people even pee in Hell?
>turning reveals a tail very much like a deer's, if it were ridiculously fluffy and had a black underside
>well, that explained why his lower back had felt so strange earlier
>if he had a deer's legs and tail... were those ears on top of his head?
>Al grabs hold of one, only to wince and immediately loosen his grip
-
>yes, those are ears; easily as fluffy as his tail--even if he's never seen a deer with such thick fur around the ears--which thankfully doesn't seem to inhibit his ability to hear
>what about the ears he was more used to?
>using his fingers Al combs his hair back away from the side of his face...
>nope, only the set on the top of his head; he winds up dropping the hair back into place because looking at the side of his head without them is just...
>strange
>and might explain the haircut
>at least he doesn't seem to need glasses anymore, because he has no idea how he'd go about wearing them if he did
>and his freckles seem to be gone!
>Al licks his fingers--tasting dried blood and dust--and scrubs at one eyelid
>nope, not makeup
>Al grins at himself in the mirror
>only to balk again
>were they naturally color or had he neglected brushing that much?
>he scrapes one claw against them for an answer, but gets nothing conclusive
>okay, that's enough of that
>he knows he's in Hell
>and he knows what's wrong with his legs (and what he looks like)
>but where exactly is he, who exactly has him, and what do they want with him?
>Al looks around for something to cover himself with and finds a pair of bathrobes on the back of the door
>one is black--is that silk?--and the other is thick, and white with pink flowers on it
>as he's still not a girl Al goes for the black one... and has to fight with the hook it's hung on for a minute before it comes off
>it's way too long for him, but it will keep him covered
>and if it bothers him too much he does have very sharp claws!
>he pulls it on with some difficulty, there's just so much bathrobe to work around and the sleeves are way too long
>it takes Al a few tries to roll the sleeves far enough up his arms so that they will more or less stay put, and tie the belt in a way that will allow him to move
>not that he's entirely sure of these legs just yet
-
>all done Al slips out of the bathroom and towards the door the shadows tell him was the way out
>they're still right, but in this room he hears breathing
>heavy and slow, and whistling? It sounds like at least two, and they sound asleep...
>Al moves slowly, careful to make very little noise, and soon comes across five cots set up in a loose circle
>two of them are occupied:
>one by someone with fins where his ears should be and something sticking out of his head with a softly glowing bulb on the end
>and the other by someone who looks like someone had stretched a tuxedo cat's hide out over a normal boy
>and was that a wing?
>they both looked like children, and their being here doesn't look good
>Al isn't going to wait for the other three, or whoever brought them here, to come back
>he slips out into the hall, which is lined with even more pictures, and after a moment of deliberation takes a right
>he peers into the pictures as he goes, each one depicting a blond family or some member of it--the man and the daughter both look like clowns, while the mother looks like a Lady--that probably owns this place
>the daughter even looks like the girl that had helped him escape the shadows
>had she taken him in?
>and if she had, what did she want with him?
>Al freezes at the sound of approaching voices, and after a moment's of hesitation, dives into an indent in the wall with a statue in it
>the most prominent voice is a girl's high and bright, almost to the point of shrillness, and chattering in a language that Al doesn't recognize
>there seems to be three people coming and something being dragged along the ground?
>Al chews on his lower lip--stopping when he realizes just how sharp those pointed yellow teeth are--and tries very hard not to breathe
"M sssleepy," a boy's voice says, "C'n I juss' sski' th' baf 'n' go t' bed?"
-
>Al doesn't hear a response, but the group moves in the direction he came from, their progress marked by the chattering girl
>he doesn't want to run into them again and the shadows direct him on a winding path through hallways and down staircases
>where he hears another set of voices
>adult voices that don't seem to be moving
>Al creeps closer; Mom might have had words to say about eavesdropping but Al needed all the information he could get
"Well what was I supposed to do?" A woman's voice demands, "I wasn't going to let him continue hurting himself like that!"
"You use a spell that doesn't magically bind you together," a man's voice responds, stern. "Appleseed, there's a reason your Mother's sealing spell is only used within families: it strengthens existing bonds of trust and care, and if they are weak or do not exist it creates them. Magically speaking you have adopted the Radio Demon as your own."
"The only other spells I could think of would have enslaved him," the woman shouts in response, and then goes on in a smaller voice: "and I thought it needed a foundation of trust to be applied."
>The man hums in response; Al doesn't like him, his voice is too oily-slick
"Little one, that depends entirely on the respective strength of the demons involved. With a sufficient difference in power there is no need for that foundation of trust, although the spell is often more unstable for it."
>the woman sighs
"So he doesn't trust me?"
"Why does it matter whether he trusts you or not?" the man asks, "You achieved your ends."
"Is there a way to tell?" The woman asks, it sounds as though she is pacing now, "I mean, Al's strong--" Al jolts, they were talking about him? "--really strong... I don't think I could have helped him without his trust!"
"Appleseed--"
-
"Don't 'Appleseed' me! You just said I adopted him, right? So of course I care whether or not he trusts me."
"Charlotte, have you considered simply examining your spellwork?" the man asks, sounding tired, "I had hoped for a look at it myself, and it will certainly answer all of your questions."
"Er, no."
"You always did have a spotty record on that regard," the man says, "I had wondered if you had realized the consequences of your actions, and it seems that you have not."
"I guess you're happy I've messed up again, huh?" Charlotte demands darkly
"Not at all," the man says
>there's a moment where they both lapse into silence and then Charlotte nervously asks:
"Dad?"
>just as claws close around Al's upper arms and he is lifted off of the ground; where is that weird electronic shrieking noise coming from?
"Speak of the devil and he shall come," the man's voice says cheerfully from just behind Al as he carries him into a nearby room, "it seems that we have company."
>the blonde girl sitting on the couch is the same girl that had helped him against the shadow monsters, if dirtier than he remembers her being
>her eyes widen when she sees him and she's on her feet in a heartbeat
"Dad, let him go!"
"Not yet, Appleseed," Charlotte's father says, and does something that makes Al feel like he can't breathe
>Al reacts on instinct, kicking backwards with his hooves and catching the man with sharp dew claws
>he's released with a sharp, surprised breath--that quickly turns into laughter--and Al wastes no time in getting to Charlotte's side
>he doesn't remember how he reached her, but she tucks him against and behind her
"That wasn't funny, Dad!"
"Oh, I beg to differ," Charlotte's father turns out to be the shorter man with the cold eyes set in a clown's face and the towering white hat from the paintings
>Al doesn't like or trust him
>Charlotte turns to him, brushing careful hands over his hair
"Are you alright, sweetheart?"
>unsure of his voice Al nods
-
"Honestly, my dearest daughter, it seems as though we have already answered the question at large."
>Charlotte's father turns his cold eyes to Al, and he resists the urge to duck further behind Charlotte
"Tell me, boy, what do you think of me?" he asks
"You're a bad man," Al says, glaring at him
>apparently this is the funniest thing the man has ever heard

--
--
--

"What a sharp kid," Lucifer says, gleeful. "I suppose this is better than you marrying him, Appleseed."
"Wh-what! Dad, I'm with Vaggie," Charlie says, gently directing Al back to the couch, "which you know."
>Lucifer waves a dismissive hand
"How that little chit came to mean so much to you I'll never understand," he says, "this at least has a grounding in reality."
>Charlie huffs at him--this is hardly the first time he's disparaged her relationship with Vaggie--and turns to look Al over
>he seems unharmed, if dirty--there's still dried blood on his face and in his hair--and seems to have appropriated her dressing gown
>and his legs...
>she hadn't noticed it earlier--considering everything else that had been going on she's not surprised, even if she feels a bit stupid now--but child Alastor's legs were recurved, while as an adult they weren't
>did Alastor have a shape shifting ability that he wasted on such a vain change?
>the very idea made her want to laugh
"I wasn't expecting you up before noon tomorrow morning," Charlie tells him, finger-combing his hair with one hand
"Oh come now, child," Lucifer says, barking another laugh "he is a demon. A little blood loss isn't going to keep him down for long."
>Al, who had settled somewhat against her side goes rigid
"So I do have the devil in me?" He asks, glaring at her father
>who naturally starts laughing again
"Al, what are you talking about?"
>he turns to look at her, red eyes telling her not to treat him like an idiot
"I know this is Hell," he says in a quiet voice, "Gran'ma told me I had the devil in me--"
-
"What? That's horrible!"
>Al looks away from her, his hands tightening into fists
"And I can't think of any other why a kid would be in Hell..."
>Lucifer hums
"Alastor--" Al frowns, as if he wasn't quite sure about the name "--to the best of your knowledge what's the date?"
>he really does have such an expressive face when he isn't forcing himself to smile all of the time
>and this Al seems easier to have a real conversation with
"It's the middle of June, 1904," he says, hugging his knees
>Lucifer nods slowly, his fingers drumming on the head of his cane
"To the best of my knowledge you didn't appear in Hell until the 1930's as years are counted by the Gregorian Calendar," Lucifer says, his eyes half lidded as he watches Al process what he's been told
"But I would have been old then!" he says, looking between them as if hoping Charlie would contradict her father, "if that's true then why am I a kid now? What year is it?"
>Charlie glares at her father, Al hadn't needed to know all of that just yet! She hadn't even come up with a story to tell him... which left her with the truth!
>she hoists him up into her arms and squeezes him tight; careful of the tiny antlers rooted into the crown of his head
"It's 2020," she says into his hair, "you've been dead for nearly ninety years."
"B-but that's..." Al swallows thickly and tries to squirm out of her arms
>she keeps hold of him, but it's a close thing
"There was an accident earlier, and I--we--still aren't quite sure what happened, but you and several others were inflicted with an, uh, let's call it a curse that essentially returned everyone effected by it to some point in their childhood."
"oh," Al says, "so I was a grown up then?"
"You were," Charlie says, releasing him now that he's calmed
"Did you like him, big me?" He asks, looking away from both of them
>how was she meant to answer that?
>Alastor was... an acquired taste and a useful enough ally to have
-
"Yes and no," she says after a moment's thought, "he liked a lot of the same things I do and had a similar sense of humor... but he could be terribly cruel and impossible to have a meaningful conversation with."
"Oh," Al says softly, "And I--he belongs here?"
"Most certainly," Lucifer says, eyes glinting.
>Charlie shoots him another dark look, but Al merely nods and looks into the fire
"Al, how old are you? So far there's eight of you here and I only know the ages of three of you."
"'M eight," he says into his knees.
"And what's the last thing you remember, before all this?" Charlie asks, waving to indicate the hotel and Hell beyond it
>Al shakes his head, glaring hard into the fire
>Lucifer stands and brushes off his jacket
"Well, as delightful as this has been, I believe I have satisfied my curiosity," he says, "Charlotte should you need any additional staff for this...daycare of yours, do not hesitate to call."
>he ducks half a bow in her direction and buffs his hat
"I'll see myself out," Lucifer tells her, and is gone.
"I don't like him," Al says bitterly.
>Charlie laughs, sometimes she didn't like her father so much either
"Oh, he'll grow on you," she says blithely--because her father seems to think that Alastor was family now, which meant he would stop in "in order to get to know [his] grandson"--and hoists him off of the couch (earning a radio-shriek for her trouble) and sets him against her hip, "what do you say we get cleaned up and get some rest?"
>half a beat later Razzle darts into the room, gesturing wildly about a missing child... only to relax and press his hoof into his face when he sees Al in her arms
>Charlie can't help the laugh that bubbles up in her throat

End Chapter Two

Stay tuned for Chapter Three--coming to a thread near you sometime tomorrow!--wherein Charlie is (possibly) driven to the end of her rope by eight rambunctious youngsters.