D. Charlie - owlanon

from /hhg/ Helluva Hotel general #830, #831
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>owlanon gets sent to represent his noble house for meetings in d. charlies court
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>"Tell me, Anon, why does your estate need so many servants?"

>The other representatives seated around the long table in Pandemonium Palace grow deathly still
>The Queen addressed you by your given name, not by your title
>She rarely does that
>You're not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing
>Probably a bad thing
>Any time Queen Charlotte deviates from established procedure, it generally means trouble
>You gulp, and hope that your visage doesn't betray your nervousness

>"...what do you mean, Your Highness?"

>Charlotte shuffles through the stack of files and loose papers beside her for a moment and retrieves a folder emblazoned with your family crest
>She opens it and begins to pick through the documents

>"You currently 'employ' how many imps, hellhounds, succubi, etcetera?"

>You open your beak to start lying, but she cuts you off

>"Far more than seem to actually be doing any quantifiable work"

>She raises up a bundle of papers and spreads them across the table
>Overhead photographs of your family's estate and the many slapdash 'servant's quarters' that have sprung up around it

>"If Overwatch's routine surveillance reports are to be believed, less than ten percent of the demons you supposedly have in your employ ever actually do any work for you."
>"They seem to be working for themselves"
>"I see a few of them tending to gardens here"
>"A space for wordworking"
>"A stage for musicians to play on"
>"Why, exactly, are you spending hand-over-fist keeping the paperwork for this army of layabouts in order when you seem to not profit from it in the least?"
-
>well, this is it
>damned if you do, damned if you don't
>the Queen doesn't NEED a reason to take away your title or your life
>she doesn't NEED a reason to take away the lives of those under your care
>or worse, preserve them as one of those... THINGS

>you don't need to look around to know they're watching you with both sympathy... And apprehension
>you weigh your options here
>...what answer will lead to the least amount of lives lost?

>you have to be quick, though - the Queen is waiting
>and she DOES NOT like to be held up
>finally, you meet her gaze
>it's cold
>empty
>lacking even the sadism of her late father's - she isn't just playing with her food

>"...For peace of mind, your Highness..."

>the others stare
>was this really the best you could come up with?

>"...For "peace of mind", Anon?" she asks
>from the tone of her voice, you could tell that she would've raised an eyebrow, where you two not in the company of others

>"Yes." you reply, simply, your gaze unbroken "I sincerely hope that you didn't expect that letting me keep my estate while being surrounded by massive, temporary gravestones made of concrete will not wear on my mind."

>you focus on her fully now, eyes fixed upon hers

>"...I keep them as my "servants" to keep the safe from you."

>your tone is honest, matter-of-factly
>you try to suppress every ounce of anger and revulsion, trying not to sound rebellious or cynical

>"I don't care for the sinners, nor am I in any position to question your methods.But the Hellborne are a different matter. They're born into sin, not pick it up voluntarily or from their environments. Punishing them for who they are is..."
>you search for the right word...
>...and then...

>"... distinctly human-like."


>the silence is ear-piercing
>you could see her expression harden
>yet, at the same time, flames flare in her eyes
>you caught her
-
Short end:
>"Ah"
>"Of course, of course"

>The Queen neatly tucks the loose papers back into place and binds them with a paperclip

>"I should have guessed"
>"You and your family have always liked your...pets"

>You feel the wood of the armrest splintering under the force of your talons
>You know what she's really driving at here
>The callous bitch

>"Thank you for the clarification, Bannerman Of House Goetia"
>"Now, on to the next matter"
>"The remaining exterminators that were captured during the last attempt at a cleanse before the armistice was forged"

>"...what about them Your Highness?"

>"They are to be executed"
>"Publicly"
>"All of them"
>"Heaven has wasted my time with one useless, spineless, feculent little excuse for an ambassador after another"
>"Burning through second after second I could have spent on productive activities with one hollow promise upon hollow promise and worthless offer upon worthless offer, trying to win back their precious little flying murderers without giving anything of value in return, and I. AM. DONE."
>"Vox is to clear his programming schedule for a special broadcast"
>"I want every last one of them erased, using their own weapons if you can still find them"
>"After that, we'll see if Heaven can get it through their thick, sanctimonious skulls that simply acting nice isn't enough to fool us"

>The closest thing to a spirited debate that anyone dares conduct in Queen Charlotte's presence breaks out
>You sigh to yourself in relief
>You're fairly certain that all of that ultimately means that you are no longer in The Crown's crosshairs
>For now
---
Long end:
>"...I keep them away from worse sins that human minds have imagined..." you continue, leaving tell-tale punctuation all over your sentence "...but I will not suppress their nature."


>"...Their... Nature..." she replies, slowly

>you can already tell where this is going
>that's the problem with becoming a tyrant like this
>you become predictable
>and predictability doesn't inspire fear

>"Yes." you reply

>"...Nature, molded from sin." she says, simply "Sloth, Gluttony, Lust, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Pride... Murder, violence, larceny, deceit..."

>she stares deeply into your eyes

>"...And treason."

>you're not shaken
>phlegmatic, even
>powerful as she might be, the fear she inspires had become tedious
>boring
>it's a hateful thing that you, a creature of leisure, has to put up with
>and that's the problem
>her father at least had charm, if only a superficial one

>...and he didn't try to pretend like he was fucking Abaddon
>didn't act like his downfall had cursed him to be the most terrifying entity in existence - he knew it damn well that others had it worse
>and he reveled in it

>this?
>this was childish
>she was being childish


>you became downright nonchalant, though, you didn't slacken your politeness - SOMEONE had to act mature here

>"You needn't worry about treason, your highness."

>your voice betrays your tiredness
>you're done, either way
>might as well be honest

>"You killed your father."


>the room somehow grows even quieter before
>it's as if it's swallowing up all sounds


>"You took his throne." you continue "Killed everyone who would oppose you. You keep torturing and killing sinners, day after day. Heaven weeps at the sight of your great works."

>you're barely masking your bitterness at this point

>"I've no lofty goals regarding the inner workings of Hell, because, quite frankly, there aren't any. It's all a well-oiled machine of annihilation, with our estates left around... Basically as potted plants for decoration."
-
>her own expression regains some neutrality, as your facade continues to crumble

>"...That's one way to call the generosity of the crown." she says, simply

>emotion is a show of hands
>"real adults" don't show any

>...God above, you miss the old Princess Charlie

>"I know a gilded cage when I see one, your Highness." you reply, dispassionate "After all, we were all raised one."

>allowing yourself to frown, your gaze, unblinking and unbroken, continues to meet hers

>"Do you wish for me to commit genocide on your own people?"


>so, so many things you could've added to that
>but you kept it short
>no euphemisms, no round sentences
>you spelled it out to her


>"...They're your servants." she replies, finally
>you don't allow yourself any relief, though, and it pays off
>she's not done just yet
>"...However, I expect you to follow orders."


>you have the means
>you can snuff them all out, and then yourself, before she can get to them
>there's peace, still, in the Abyss

>ah
>your desperate mental rebellion had caught her attention
>your eyes must've flared up
>question is, does she know the meaning behind them?
>had she read your mind?
>...would she feel fear if she did?


>"I will."

>it sounded like a threat


>the meeting carries on, and, eventually, you're all dismissed
>but - adhering to yet another power trip cliché - she makes you stay "after class"
>...let's put it to the test, then:
>has she, or has she not read your mind?


>"...Anon, regarding your orders--"
>"I'll kill them."

>she halts, staring at you
>you glare back

>"All of them. Men, women, children. I'll do it with my own bare hands, if necessary. Send them straight to Abaddon, and then do in myself."

>you can feel your glare intensify
>her face lights up red from your eyes
-
>"Do whatever you want with me, with my body and mind. But I won't let you touch them. I won't let you turn them into your drones. I don't care for your throne, or the nightmare you created and perpetuate. But I WILL NOT let you take them."

>there are no further words
>no threats, no promises
>you didn't dawdle with any fanciful euphemisms
>you stated facts


>ass you calm down from your rage, you finally notice that her expression had changed
>she was... surprised... at your response
>you realize you cut her off

>"...Your orders, Anon..." she said, finally speaking up "...Are to ensure that your... "Servants"... Are prepared for a potential attack from Heaven..."

>she's being choosy with her words
>you've disturbed her
>she had to change course
>you keep holding her gaze

>"...on the off chance that the inner line of defense fails, it'll be upon your judgement to evacuate, or..."
>she pauses, regaining lost composure
>"...eliminate them."

>you give a curt nod
>she holds your glare


>"...You seem quite eager to keep them from actually being useful." she says, finally "I find it rather hard to see anything more than Greed in what you've said."

>oh, you bitch

>"Abaddon shall grant them peace, where all you can give is fear and pain." you reply, coldly "But if you're so eager to hold these poor, unfortunate souls under your heel, then why don't you go, and conquer the Abyss?"

>you can tell she's losing her temper
>you relish in it

>"...After all, setting of Abaddon MIGHT just erase this sinful Creation early on, and leave Heaven with nothing, but the abject failure of their works."

>you raise your eyebrows to emote a bit more

>"...It would be EVERYTHING you've desired."


>"...You are dismissed, Anon."


>you might die today
>you may not make it pass the hour
>perhaps, you only have minutes left
>those under your care might be in imminent danger

>but it matters not to you now - the Queen has been reminded of her limits
>and she won't forget
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I have no idea If I save this right.
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Just scrap my post entirely I didn't realize anon had enough content in him to fill multiple posts
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>Just scrap my post entirely

why?

I like it
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It doesn't really fit in with the rest of the story. Charlie brushing off Owlnon and retaking the wheel of the conversation by ordering all the POWs to be executed doesn't tie in to she and Owlnon having a private moment at all. It's a fork in the road that leads to a different place than where we're going.
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oh... well, we can make it non-canon or something.