𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑; 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀

𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 𝒑𝒕. 2

Despite the repeating sleepless nights, Alastor actually had a full night's rest for once. He woke up at around 8:30 AM and snapped his fingers, his suit appearing on his body and his makeup flawlessly done.

He stopped himself from doing anything around the hotel. Didn't cook, didn't clean, didn't even greet anyone good morning. He simply walked out of his room, saw everyone laying about in the lobby, noticed how no one paid attention to him, and left. If no one will notice, might as well leave. He went straight to Cannibal Town, Rosie always knew how to cheer him up!

...That is, when she's not busy. Alastor stopped in his tracks, only a few steps away from the entrance to Cannibal Town. What if she's busy? What if she doesn't want to see him? What if he doesn't matter to her anymore? She is an overlord, after all, she could easily throw him to the side like garbage. Alastor sighed, clutching his head, he needs to stop overthinking such things. ...but what if the thoughts were right? Whatever, he'll just go back to the hotel. Maybe find a good book, cozy up near a stream in that swamp in his room. Perhaps find a fawn to have as a snack.

Al snapped, appearing at the doors of the hotel. He opened them, as he doesn't have to knock, he lives here, and stepped inside. He brushed off his suit jacket absentmindedly, it's not like it was dirty, just a habit.

He once again, took note of how no one cared about the radio demons presence. It's like he didn't exist to them. Holding in a sigh, he made his way to his room. He grabbed a stack of greek mythology books, and went into the swamp side of his room, searching for a spot to read in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
IN THE LOBBY 11:34
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, who's makin' lunch, again?" Angel asked, setting down his phone after getting too many messages from that shit eating bald purple blind ass attracted to light motherfucker- ahaha, I mean Valentino.

"Wait, we're 'sposed to be takin' turns?" Husk questioned, looking up from the glass he was cleaning.

"Can I try to make lunch?! Can I try!?" Niffty shouted, waving her hands in the air excitedly.

"No, you'll just put roaches on our plates. ...again." Vaggie said, glaring at the small demoness.

"Didn't Charlie do it last time an' it was fuckin' amazin'?" Angel started, then looked at the princess of hell, "Toots, can you make pancakes again?"

"I- I dunno, guys..." Charlie muttered, she never was very good at cooking, and she didn't make shit yesterday.

Niffty, knowing that she's taking credit for yesterday, crossed her arms and glared at Charlie, "No. I will not eat anything that bitch makes."

The hotel residents looked at Niffty, baffled. Niffty doesn't cuss, what the fuck?

Husk looked between Niffty, who was glaring at Charlie, and Charlie, who was sweating under her gaze. "...Since when do Niff an' the princess of hell have beef?" he muttered, before looking back at the bottle he was drinking out of, and setting it down, eyeing it warily. "I didn't think I drank that much..." he whispered to himself.

"Niff, you ate her food yesterday?" Angel said, but it sounded more like a question.

"No, I didn't. I ate the food Alastor made. Not whatever bullshit she's taking credit for." Niffty spat, the usual eerie cheerful energy she has completely gone.

Angel pinched the bridge of the nose he doesn't have, "Niffty, with all do respect, what the fuck are you on about?"

"Charlie keeps taking credit for everything Alastor has done. 'Charlie did this and this, and this', 'Oh, Charlie, you must have worked so hard doing all this', 'Oh, Charlie, all of this was such a good idea', 'Oh, Charlie, you did all of that? You should take a break', SHE DIDN'T DO SHIT!" Niffty stomped her foot on the ground, the hotel shaking a bit.