Crimson Hues (Alastor x Angel of Death!Reader)

Chapter Four: Something Familiar

Alastor had decided to take a walk, recounting the moment repeatedly in his head when Charlie had told them just which archangel was stepping their vile feet on Hell's floor. Honestly, he was wishing he hadn't asked to begin with. At first, both he and AngelDust had stared at Charlie for the longest moment, until they realized she was quite serious.

The Angel of Death...

As far as he knew, the Angel of Death hadn't been reincarnated last or even called forth for any major tasks since the plagues of Egypt so many years ago. It was the only angel without a physical form of its own, and so it took the forms of others and they themselves became the Angel of Death. Charlie said it wasn't the same reincarnation as the angel who passed through, drawing the breath out of every firstborn in Egypt and leaving families wailing in despair. It made him all the more curious who this new face would be.

Not that it truly mattered, he thought... In the end, his goal was to get the archangel to leave as quick as possible. Nothing messy or provoking, just some careful persuasion. He didn't want this person screwing up any of his plans with the hotel and it's foolish residents, or worse, killing him completely. This needed to be done with caution and planning.

Alastor's eyes drifted around to the few demons that hadn't fled upon his presence, searching for any signs that they knew what was coming to visit them.

Nothing... They all seemed blissfully ignorant. Maybe that was a good thing. Exterminators were expected every once in a while, but tell the common demons that an archangel was coming, and there'd be utter chaos. People running around screaming and making a fuss like chickens with their heads cut off.

He slowed his walk to a halt upon arriving at Mimzy's club, and deciding that all this information was coming too quickly for his liking, went in for a drink. One might wonder how alcohol was supposed to help sharpen a person's mind for thinking, and the answer was, it doesn't... but Alastor had a slight advantage in that it took a lot to get him drunk.

The bar was relatively calm, not an excessive amount of chatter to be heard. This was pleasing, as he didn't particularly enjoy talking when he needed to think. He took a whole booth at the back, which effectively reserved it for himself as no person in their right mind who knew who he was would sit by him. There was a clear view to the stage up front, though nobody seemed to be occupying it yet. It wasn't long before Mimzy caught sight of him and weaved her way through the joint towards him.

"Hey, sugar! Haven't seen you in a long time. Anything I can do ya for?" She asked sweetly.

"Good afternoon! And yes, I could do with a glass of Merlot wine if you don't mind." Regardless of being a serial killer and renowned tyrant, he had his charm. And charm inherently came with certain manners, at least for the time period he grew up.

"Coming right up!"

Mimzy was one of the few people that didn't run in utter terror when he entered the vicinity, but it wasn't as though she didn't have the same wary demeanor over his presence. She simply chose to accommodate that in a different way, meaning rather than avoiding him to stay safe, she treated him like royalty to stay on his good side. Not that he minded too much. She was a sweet woman when it came down to it, if not incredibly mischievous. There was a darker side behind that smile, much like Alastor. Perhaps that's why he hadn't attempted to harm her yet. There was too much for him to relate to.

While waiting, there was a rustling of curtains that drew his attention to the front. Out came the bar's usual piano man and behind him... someone else.

A young woman, with h/c hair and a piercing gaze. Immediately, Alastor felt as though he'd seen her before, but for the life of him couldn't recall where. Perhaps he'd seen her passing on the streets?