A Reintroduction part 1

from /hhg/ Helluva Hotel general #680
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You guys want a story?
I'd like to introduce the old anon squad to the newcomers to the this thread, and I have an idea how to.
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Do it
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A'ight.

>the bell tinkled, announcing the arrival of four figures
>barely anyone looked up, though
>the diner was busy, but not too much so - rush hour had ended some time ago, and the remainder of that still filled up part of the booths and tables
>an empty one, roughly in the center, was soon occupied

>"...Here, sir?"
>for once, Moxxie's query lacked the annoyed tone, sounding more perplexed than anything
>"Yup, it's the perfect place to celebrate our recent victory!" his boss replied, enthusiastically - he had already picked up the menu from it's holder among the salt and pepper, noting how it was slightly less waxen with old grease than he remembered
>"...Recent vict--Sir, are we seriously celebrating you winning a bet over a parking space - on a technicality, as a compromise, I may add -, that happened over a WEEK ago?" the smaller imp was incredulous, and was quickly barked down by his superior
>"SHUT UP, Moxxie!" snapped Blitzo "You should be glad I even invited you, considering you spent your time getting DRUNK instead of killing!"
>"T-T-THAT WASN'T MY FAULT!" Moxxie spluttered "I was trapped in a beer keg! And besides, I did PLENTY of killing before that happened! And what do you mean "invited"?! You literally had all of us dragged here, off the clock!"

>in their bickering, the two didn't hear the thumping footfalls approaching their booth
>Loona did, however, and looking up, her eyes widened with recognition
>Millie was too engrossed with the boys' argument to notice it, either, as Moxxie took the word, once again
>"...And besides, do you seriously want to splurge the company's, no, OUR hard earned money on diner food?!"
>realizing where he was, he immediately turned to the side, and called out to the cashiers and waitresses:
>"No offense! I actually like the food here, it's really good!"
>"Oh, you would know that, wouldn't you, fatty?" the Hellhound snickered, earning a frown from the imp couple, and a chuckle from his boss
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>"How is he fat?"

>the voice made all four of the jump, and look up
>standing beside their table was tall, lanky figure, off-white and still as a beam
>he looked human in the sense that a cartoon sketch looks human: had limbs, torso head and everything, but all of it was... Loosely defined
>his arms were long, almost wing-like, as they seemed to widen towards his large hands, which were also hard to find, as it looked like he had some sort of hoodie or pullover on his torso that hid the minute anatomic details, such as his wrists
>but even that was hard to tell, since, if he was wearing clothes, they simply had nary an outline - he just looked like a solid, blanche figure
>in fact, the more you looked at him, the more difficult it became to tell if he was three dimensional or a 2D cutout
>a narrow torso, in the vague shape of a stretched, downward-pointing triangle led to legs that also looked like triangles, and ended in pointy shoes... feet... somethings
>his head was round, and completely featureless at first glance - save for the large, old-fashioned question mark that stood in place of his face

>"How is he fat?" he asked again, revealing he had a mouth
>and a brow, as one was now raised quizzically, distorting the question mark a bit
>"His body is literally like a triangle or "A" shape, his limbs are spindly and noodle-y, and the only thing that's comparatively large on him is his head..." the figure murmured, looking the imp up and down "...And even that's just anatomy, not excess weight."
>he then turned to look at Loona, who stared back, tensely
>"Are you projecting your latent bulimia on him, or something?" he asked "'Cause that's not a good look for you..."
>Loona just scoffed, and rolled her eyes, while Blitzo suddenly sprung up
>"...Do you KNOW this clown?!" he snapped, eliciting a frown from the blanche figure
>he got all up in the Hellhound's face, snarling:
>"Who is he?! A former BOYFRIEND of yours?!"
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>"...Get.. OFF!"
>the next second, his adoptive "daughter" had kicked him across the room, making the imp land squarely in an old, '50s style trash bin, from which quickly clambered out (spilling copious amounts of garbage onto the floor, much to the distaste of the diner's staff), and marched his way back to their booth, now glaring daggers at the figure, who just held his gaze (despite his lack of eyes) with a frown of his own
>"Hardly..." he replied, dryly "We're more... Acquaintances than anything."
>half-heartedly, Loona gave a nod to that
>"We don't even know enough about each other to call one another a friend." the figure went on, with steady deliberation "I'm just a... Benefactor, if you will... Oh, speaking of...!"
>and he suddenly reached inside his... pocket?
>really it was just a slit on his person that appeared out of nowhere, roughly where a pocket should've been, but he might as well have been pulling it out from behind his back

>what he pulled out was a small, orange-colored plastic can of medicine, which he soon held out over the table...
>...towards the Hellhound
>"Here's your prescription." he said, his monotone voice peaking as raised his eyebrow again "I grabbed it on the way here... But you really need to start doing this on your own."
>"I know..." Loona replied with a sigh, taking it from his large hand
>"Really, this is for your own health..." the figure went on, only to be cut off
>"I know!" she snapped, tucking the bottle away in her cleavage, before muttering a sheepish "Thank you..." under her breath
>the figure nodded, as the three imps stared back and forth between him and the Hellhound
>"...Oh. So you're giving her DRGS?!" the older imp snapped, only to be met with the distinct glare of the larger figure
>"I've been fulfilling the fatherly duties YOU failed to do." he droned "I've been funding her penicillin treatment for MONTHS, since you can't seem to remember to put aside some money for it, OR take her to a doctor."
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>slowly, Blitzo's glare faded, while Millie and Moxxie looked at the stranger incredulously
>Loona, on the other hand, seemed ardent to stare out through the window, embarrassed
>"She only stopped getting injections for it a month or so ago..." the figure went on "Thankfully, pathogens in Hell seem to defy Earhly logic, so it's been reversed to a point where the pills are enough, IF TAKEN REGULARLY."
>that last part, clearly addressed to the Hellhound, had only made her groan
>"Can't fix the eye thing..." he went on, pointing towards the general area on his face where his own should've been "That'll permanently remain red."
>"...Great..." Loona muttered under her breath, while the others exchanged looks
>"I thought her eye was naturally like that..." Millie muttered
>"It is NOW." the figure added "Due to Hell's, eh, "unique" biological rules, her eyes will now naturally be pigmented red."
>he shrugged
>"Better than being inflamated, I guess..."
>"...God, could you shut up?!" the canine snapped
>Again, the figure just shrugged
>"I'm just saying. If your so-called "father" was so negligent that he let it progress to NEUROsyphilis, I think he deserves to be caught up on the matter."
>"And like father, like daughter, the btch couldn't be bothered to actually buy her own medicine..." came another voice
>the five of them looked to the side, to the next booth, were four figures were seated - one, dressed in smart, light clothes and tinted red, grinning broadly
>"Is she your latest charity case, Stretch?" he snickered "I didn't know you were such a sap, I would've taken you for a simp!"
>"Oh, shut up, Zug." the lanky one replied, returning to his gaze to the group
>"Anyways, I'm actually here to take your order."
>at once, a white towel unfurled upon his right arm, as he dug out a small notebook and pen with the other, now literally from behind his back
>"What'll you be having?"
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>having taken their orders, "Stretch" turned on his heels and ambled away, his figure shrinking unnaturally fast as he approached the counter just a few meters away, until he was practically the same height as the imp cook - a big man himself, though still smaller than the average sinner -, and gave him the notes
>having watch that little mind-bogling spectacle, Blitzo then turned around, and clambered over his seat to get what seemed like biting distance to the red figure
>"What was that about my Loonie?!" he snapped, as the red figure snickered, before his body suddenly changed shape, right before their eyes
>gone was the red skin, replaced with a pale white one, completely with permanently rosy cheeks, and an odd patch of grey skin under his new nose, as platinum blonde hair emerged from his smooth skull
>the imp was taken aback - before him sat the splitting the near-splitting image of Hell's Princess... Only male?
>"Be mindful who you talk to, rube..." the blonde boomed, as curving ram horns tore through his now white skin, and his eyes turned red...
>a quick dope-slap put an end to the display, revering the man back into his featureless, red-skinned appearance, though now, an odd, combined exclamation mark-question mark appeared where his face should've been
>"Cut it out, Scum, you don't need to get into MORE trouble..." his green counterpart growled across the table, massaging his temples
>the other two at their table muttered in agreement
>"Ain't gonna get you of any more trouble, Ziggy-boy." one of them spoke
>he was, perhaps, the most defined-looking of the bunch, having actual, distinctive facial features, which appeared to be those of Charles Bronson's... both of them
>dressed in the actor's most famous clothes, while sporting the convict's baldness, the muscular figure had an odd, cowboy-like feel to him...
>...only slightly dashed by the body armor and weapons galore noticeable through, and ON his clothes
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>"...Bronson?" Blitzo asked, blinking "...The fk are you doing here? And who's THIS asshle?" he added, pointing a pointy finger at the sulking "Zagreus"
>"You heard him." the armed one replied, a smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth "His "majesty" himself, Zagreus of the House of Magne... Allegedly."
>"Oh, sht!"
>Blitzo quickly sunk back into to his seat, but soon turned around, to study their former colleague along with the others
>Bronson had been a key asset, early on the business - his affinity for guns and fisticuffs made him a good all-around help, though, there seemed to be some tension between him and Moxxie for a while
>that soon faded away, though, and he and the imp couple formed a terrific trio of assassins, helping the fledgling I.M.P. out of its rut
>soon, though, he had to depart, as Blitzo decided to start targeting people on Earth, rather than in Hell - which, apparently, didn't agree to his own interests
>the others could understand - well, three of them could, whilst their boss remained apoplectic
>he was a sinner, after all
>going after humans was probably something against his code - although, they couldn't shake the feeling that he had some hidden agenda

>"As for me? I'm just waiting for a couple of friends to arrive, before we move out."
>"Oh?" Moxxie asked "...On another mission?"
>"Nah, just back to our... HQ."
>the way he said it sounded like he switched the last word at the very last second, but the imp wasn't too bothered with it
>Bronson had his habits

>"Is this your new crew, then?" Blitzo asked, looking over the other three "The Crown-Pretender, some green fk, and... This... Hooded... Guy..."
>something about the latter seemed oddly familiar

>"You can say that." Bronson nodded "We tend to make a good team, whenever sht hits the fan."
>"Which is quite often with you."
>Stretch returned, delivering the imps' and the Hellhound's orders
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>putting them on their table, he then placed his hands on his hips
>"Seriously, was it necessary to dress naked and cover yourself in oil?" he asked, shaking his head
>Bronson just chuckled
>"Gotta have the element of surprise. Plus, it was easier to take them on, mono e mono."
>"...By making yourself slippery." Stretch surmised, impassively, before sighing "Whatever, just give us a heads-up, first, would'ya?"
>"Can't be a surprise if I told ya, now would it?" the fighter chuckled, as the lanky figure just sighed once more, and walked to another table, shaking his head

>"Huh. Still the old madlad, I see..."Blitzo chortled
>"And you're still the same dingbat..." the man replied "Splurging again?"
>for once, Blitzo did the impossible: he showed shame
>or, at least, embarrassment
>"Oh... You heard that."

>"Man, the entire DINER heard that!"

>the new voice made them all jump a bit
>craning his head around, the imps spotted YET ANOTHER figure, in the other booth next to theirs
>he was alone, wearing a gray hoodie, with his own face - completely blank, safe for mouth hold in a disappointed, neutral frown - being just slightly darker
>"Keys?" asked the fifth voice, talking in an unplaceable Slavic accent "When did you get in here?"
>the non-descript figure just shrugged
>"Pockets dropped me of. He's on his way to Angel and Cherri. Those two have gotten into a bigger mess than they can handle again."
>"Won't be the last time." Bronson sighed "But, with you here, the only one's left are Swinga, Sting and Gospel."
>"M-m." Keys shook his head "Sting's with Angel as well, and Swinga's covering for him at one of Val's places."
>this caused the four to tense up
>"...Sht, right in the fking cckroach's den." Bronson cursed
>"Val wouldn't dream of hurting him." the green figure beside him muttered "Too valuable. And he probably doesn't want an all-out war with the Spider clan over him."