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syncrovoid-presents · 3 months

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Alastor's Deal (Thoughts, Theories, and some Predictions)

This won't answer the who, but aims to dig into the why, and plausibly narrow down the terms of the deal. Long post ahead!

Evidence

First off, the finale was incredible! But what Alastor's song showed was that his ""death"" against Adam wasn't entirely a surprise, but rather planned. Alastor's song revealed that he was looking for a loop in the contract, a way to slip past the deal without having to directly break it. He already made a deal with Charlie for a favour, but that might have been a safety net of sorts, something to guarantee himself a fighting chance if his "dying for the hotel" plan failed.

His surprise was at how fast it happened, not that he nearly died. Alastor craves control, he wears his smile for control, he makes deals for control, his magic highly influenced by controlling others too. His Modus Operandi is control, and he faced the battle it started with him being in control. He was outwitting Adam, he was faster, sneakier, even kept his hands behind his back while dodging just to show how little effort it took. But Adam's weapon sending an angelic beam of power? That wasn't in his plan, that wasn't in his control.

Control is something Alastor seeks over everything, which is why the deal is so brutal for him. The deal takes control from him, and his constant smiling and jokes and contained urges for violence is him trying to have some sort of freedom. It's highly implied that, unless it's for the hotel, he hasn't used his magic for his own reasons. He hasn't eaten or killed anyone unless it is for the hotel, and even that was implied to happen only during the Mimzy incident. He hasn't gotten to make any deals either, at least no real deals, no deals for souls.

I'm far from the first one to say that his deal is forcing him to help the hotel, but it's only now that we see the true extent. Alastor's entire personality, goals, and being has been changed against his will. He is now a tool for the hotel, the sword and shield, the magical provider, bringing them whatever they need to succeed despite the odds. Without him, it would just be Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel Dust. Sir Pentious wouldn't have joined, repairs would've taken far longer, the staff would've been just Charlie and Vaggie, et cetera. Even his deals are just him trying to gain something out of helping the hotel.

Alastor is bound to the hotel and his powers are also bound to the hotel. He cannot be selfish, he cannot do anything unless it's for the hotel no matter how desperately he wants to do otherwise. And yet it seems like his powers are limited too.

Alastor has immense levels of powers, so much that he was taking down a large portion of the angel army single handedly. Had Adam not been there, it's not outlandish to claim that Alastor could have taken down the angel army by himself. This is why he was feared. This is why "no one crosses the radio demon". If these are his powers when their limited, imagine just how powerful he truly is?

The last evidence I'll state before moving on is that Alastor didn't return back to the hotel until it was rebuilt, yet still didn't use his magic to cause chaos.

To simplify, on his end the deal forces him to use his immense power for the benefit of the hotel. He cannot actively do anything to bring harm to it, and he cannot use his magic unless it's for the good of the hotel. And he cannot escape from the deal if the hotel is destroyed, so the deal isn't about the physical hotel, but rather the concept of it. As long as the hazbin hotel exists in the heart of those involved, Alastor is bound to help.

Why?

Now the why? I believe that, whoever he made the deal with him was, they want the hotel to succeed. Not only that, I believe that by forcing Alastor to stay there and help while limiting his capability for violence, they are also trying to rehabilitate Alastor.

Wherever Alastor was before the hotel opened, it was somewhere where he couldn't interact with anyone. He was forced to be gone, only until the hotel opened. If the theories of Alastor making a deal with Lilith is true, then Lilith's character is important to consider. From what we know she is powerful and worked to bring dekonkind together. And that she too disappeared 7 years ago.

It's confirmed that Alastor destroyed many of the worse evils that existed in hell, the only ancient overlords that remain are civil and take part of overlord meetings. They are controlled, contained. There's more structure, and the only truly out of control, dangerous demon to remain would have been Alastor. It's possible that Lilith realized that she could use him to "clean up hell", waiting her time until Alastor was the last remaining biggest threat. That was when she pounced, seven years ago to capture him in a deal. We don't know why he would accept such a limiting deal, but I'd wager that it could have been for his life (either she was threatening him, or he nearly died and made a deal for his life).

Now that the deal is made, Alastor can't bring mindless chaos. If anything he is doing the most to help demons be saved from the extermination either through redemption or protection (we also didn't see him prior to the last, so perhaps he's also bound to protect during the extermination too?).

All while Alastor is handling and ensuring the success of the largest and most helpful demon-centered support system, Lilith is on vacation. Almost like Alastor is acting in her role, a mimicry of a spiritual successor of sorts. He's helping rally the demons together, helping shape Charlie into a better leader, helping prove demons can be redeemed. All while Alastor is either witness, participant, or manager of the strategies used to redeem sinners. Alastor is only a few steps away from taking part of the redemption program himself.

If Alastor's deal was with Lilith, then she's getting everything she could want. All the uncontrollable evils/overlords destroyed, a muzzle on (one of the most) powerful sadistic demons, someone to help guide her daughter, help demons redeem themselves, protection for her citizens from being killed or further tortured, and she finally gets a vacation. She'd be getting everything she could want, with the bonus of possibly rehabilitating Alastor in the process.

It's no wonder Alastor is so desperate to break out of the deal, to find a backdoor in the contract. This goes against everything he stands for. The stories of him broadcasting screams? Of killing overloards and owning soul after soul after soul? That is the real him, and it isn't exaggerated. If Alastor wasn't chained, he'd have the power and strength to destroy large swaths of hell himself. If he decided to do his own extermination with angelic weapons? He could kill as many demons as the angels do and more, because he wouldn't be limited by a single day period.

If his deal is with someone else? We simply don't have enough information yet to name them then. Whoever it is, they would have to believe in demonkind's potential for improvement, and possibly fear what Alastor is able to do.

Predictions

The last thing I want to touch upon is how Alastor might be able to escape the deal. First is what he tried, which is "dying" for the hotel. Or, more precisely, for everyone involved in the hotel, it was as if he died, so why would they still depend on him?

Next would be for the hotel to be destroyed, and considering that we don't know if Alastor was briefly free while he recovered or if he was just hiding out somewhere new because he couldn't stay in the hotel because it didn't exist, this one is still iffy. If part of his deal is staying at the hotel to actively protect it, the he was temporarily freed from that condition. Yet once it was rebuilt Alastor returned, proving that the destruction of the hotel building wouldn't free him.

The next possible way could be the death of the hazbin hotel spirit. If Alastor (or outside forces) were able to destroy Charlie's hope for the hotel just like Lucifer's dreams were crushed, perhaps Alastor would be freed. Considering how the finale went, it would take a lot for this to happen.

My final idea, and the one I predict will happen, is that Alastor outfits the person he made the deal with. He doesn't find a true "out", but rather will manipulate them into giving his power back. And this? I believe that Alastor's deal with Charlie was made for this reason.

If indeed the deal was with Lilith, and part of the deal seems to be ensuring Charlie's dreams come true, then Charlie is a delightful way for Alastor to manipulate the situation. How? Who knows, but I think that this will be a large part of the conflict of season 2.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel lilith #syncrovoid.txt #i have SO many thoughts after watching the finale but these are my biggest ones!#Alastor is a fascinating character and its wonderful to have evidence that Alastor's whole characyer isn't just manipulating #the hazbin group but also manipulating the audience into viewing him as helpful and less dangerous #he makes us forget that Alastor thives off violence. he couldn't stop himself from laughing while fighting Adam #and took great joy in destroying the loan shark gang #had we saw him I'm sure we would have seen him thrilled to kill so many angels too #even if the deal forces him to help the hotel he didn't lie about finding entertainment in other's failing and ruining themselves #and yet despite this it's so very very hars Not to root for him #his desperation to be free of the deal is palpable and so raw that you want him to be free #even if that could lead to suh ruin and destruction and many many heaps of angst #how can i NOT analyze the finale to hell and back (pun on purpose)#anywho!!

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silverskye13 · 2 years

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Etho stumbled onto the beach, tired, sore, hungry, and one moment of weakness away from calling Tango and begging for mercy. Sure, the whole exile thing had been his idea. Sure, it had all gone downhill at approximately the same intervals he thought it would. And sure, he'd feel really, really stupid for making Tango help him dig himself into this hole only to whine to be dug out again, but who could blame him? Life in exile was hard.

Everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong, he couldn't get a moment of peace with all the half-panicked villagers milling around, and his gear was half busted. There were raids too. Death after death to vexes and evokers lost in the caverns. Dragging himself through mud and water and gravel just to trudge back up to the villager bell and have no clue where the final raiders were. Ravagers pitching him off the cliff at every other turn...

Etho sighed dramatically and sprawled out in the sand, letting himself sink body and soul into self pity and misery. His communicator was a brick in his pocket, taunting him with its presence. It stuck to his thigh with the uncomfortable, matted grasp of wet fabric. He was well and truly soaked after his last climb through the caverns, and his clothes clung to him like a second skin, salted with sweat and blotted with blood from cuts and scrapes. A crossbow bolt, broken at the shaft, pinned his belt against his chainmail. The tip of the bolt pricked him uncomfortably, worrying the bruise that had formed around its impact; though it was rendered nonlethal by the stubborn mail he was wearing, it still hurt. Laying in the sand like he was, he was just adding more grit to the mix, more minor inconveniences to add straws of weight to the almost-broken back of his resistance. More to scrub and clean and dwell on later, while he contemplated giving up.

The sky above was cloudless and brimming with stars.

Etho watched the tiny points of light flicker, and mapped the planets that didn't. His single player world was up there somewhere. So were all the other Hermitcrafts he'd been to - and those he hadn't. It was weird knowing he could chart his presence in the universe with points of light. There had been a long time, before so many worlds formed and fought into being, that he had charted his existence by thoughts and impulses and idle curiosity. Ethoslab - void first, player afterthought. He couldn't really pinpoint the moment he chose physicality, he only knew that he had, and had yet to un-choose it.

There was so much more of him. He was so much bigger than this little peninsula of shoreline. So much bigger than pesky ravagers, peskier villagers. He could give up and just recede back up there into the stars, bid farewell to Season 9. He'd started late anyway. Imposed a barrier he had too much trouble crossing. No one would blame him if he simply unspooled himself into the aether and rested for a while. For a season. Maybe two. The hermits were understanding like that. It was one of the things that made them mortal - the ability to empathize and understand.

Not that Etho couldn't do either of those things. It just took effort, like climbing uphill through a water stream. Like running from waves of vex summoned by a hidden evoker. He thought maybe his exile would help with that: the effort to pretend to be mortal. The effort to understand things the way they did, relate the way they did. To enjoy their company the way they enjoyed his.

No one would blame him if he decided he was too tired. They couldn't. It wasn't in their nature.

Etho blinked up at his stars, his universe, the pieces of him he'd left behind places where he tried his hardest to be player first, void second. He should make a decision. He should reach into his pocket and call Tango. Or he should drag himself to his feet and soldier on.

Or he could just sleep on the beach here. Sure he'd wake up cold and sandy, but hey, the sound of the waves was nice. It was a steady rhythm, the water muttering incomprehensible secrets to the sand and shells. He timed his breathing with the rolling surf, watched the sky, and tried to live in a single moment. His skin itched where it touched the sand. His scalp crawled where the water in his hair dried. He closed his eyes and sighed, bearing his discomforts as best he could.

He didn't fall asleep. He was lulled to the edge of it, maybe. His breath evened out. His thoughts spun towards nonexistence. His body was weighted with the feeling of sinking through the ground, through his subconscious into comfortable oblivion. Then, with every rush of the waves, wakefulness returned for him like a stray dog - meandering and lazy, but brutally persistent.

He was dragged awake alongside the presence of... something. He couldn't place it at first, so hazy in his exhaustion that he measured it as his own wakefulness at first. As he sat up in the sand though, he found whatever it was out there was distinct from himself. It was a great unspooling of something, a system of thought and presence in the water. The horizon was alight with it, a pale pseudo-sunrise that pulsed like heat rays off the surface of the water. Its consciousness brushed his, extended as he had been, and he felt the edges of something vast, fathomless, deep and drowning. It was cold in that crushing way the depth of the ocean is cold, a sunless dark smothered by water and distance, alight only by the predatory longing to feed. It was sharp-toothed, patient as a mountain in the breath before an avalanche, and when it brushed by him, it grinned.

The waves arced higher, roared, raced and crashed. White sea foam curled up the beach towards him, electrified by the thought and will that compelled it. Brightly colored fish, tinged silver-grey by the night, darted from them, roiling the water in great pulses and ripples. Entire schools of them fled the water, leaping into the sky as though driven by some great predator, backlit by that yellow phosphorescence in the deep that Etho recognized as eyes. Dozens of gazes trained in his direction, their lights spilling together. The sea boiled. The thing was nearing the shore. As it approached, it made itself familiar. Dark depths of frigid presence condensed and warmed themselves. Bright eyes winked out one after another until only two remained, unsettlingly bright, but human in their proportion. The crashing waves soothed, returning to a gentle rolling against the shore, and with each beat forward, they pulled this thing, now a him, towards dry land.

xB crawled out of the water with all the clumsy effort and strength of the first amphibians sniffing for shore in the times before history. His clothes were soaked. His hair was streaked with sand and kelp. His hands were planted firmly in his pockets. If not for all the sea water, and the hint of scales and gills like lace around his throat, he could have just strolled out of a building in the shopping district.

"Hullo," xB said anticlimactically, grinning with teeth that looked as though they couldn't decide how human they should be. They were situated in simple, straight rows, but the gums were too pale, and the white bone too sharp.

"Hey xB," Etho squinted his eyes, the closest to a smile he had to get with the mask on. It saved him the effort of trying to figure out how to arrange his face for human interaction. "Out fishing?"

xB chuckled, tilting his head to the side to let some trapped water out of his ear. It was just a few more indistinguishable drops to add to the damp ring of sand around his feet. "Maybe. You out star gazing?"

"I'm in exile."

"Ah. I see. So that’s why you’re so far out here,” xB shook his head, scattering water and sand from his hair. If the action was meant to dry him at all, it didn’t help. He sat down beside Etho, and the smell of salt and fish misted off of him in waves. “Should I leave?”

“I feel like you’re not going to,” Etho chuckled, laying back in the sand. He crossed his arms behind his head and gazed up at the sky, re-charting points of light he’d already mapped a thousand times in his head. “What brings you all the way out here?”

“I needed a vacation,” xB sighed and stretched, and bones that hadn’t existed a few minutes ago popped and cracked along his spine. “I love all those guys dearly, really I do, but they’re all so…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words. Finally he settled on, “... human.”

Etho nodded.

“They move too fast, and they work too big,” xB explained, as though he had to. “There’s so much emotionality going on there. I needed to just be…” he gestured vaguely to the ocean, conveying some other indescribable thing he was having trouble putting into words, “... you know. For a little while.”

“I get it,” Etho hummed, blinking skyward. He and xB were a lot alike, all things considered. The deep ocean and its half-life sentience, and the void and its time-damned knowingness, felt similar from time to time. To sensitive hands, both ice and liquid nitrogen felt cold. There were generous differences between the two things, but cold wasn’t one of them. “Well, don’t stop on my account.”

“I’m stopping on my account,” xB chuckled, even though there wasn’t much to laugh at. “I don’t wanna get lost in it, yanno? Ya’ll wouldn’t see me for the rest of the season.”

Etho nodded wordlessly.

“Unless,” xB said slowly, smirking down at him with bright eyes, “that was a really subtle way of telling me to shove off.”

Etho feigned hurt, placing a hand over his chest and raising his eyebrows, “xB! I would never--”

“Oh I see right through you, spaceman,” xB laughed. “Putting the hermit in hermitcraft out here. I see how it is.”

xB didn’t move to stand, but then again, that was the nature of the ocean. The surf didn’t leave the cliff because it wanted some alone time. It dug in and chipped away, until it had all the bones of the earth powdered to sand. So xB didn’t leave, and Etho didn’t try to make him. The void was more of a watcher than an actor anyway, and he could outlast xB’s patience. That wasn’t a sea-void metaphor, that was just them.

“I’m guessing you’re out here for the same reasons I am, then?” xB pressed on, heedless of Etho’s silence. “It takes some adjustment, but the exile’s a little extreme. I prefer full immersion myself.”

“I thought about not joining,” Etho hummed, finding a planet to fix his eyes on. It was a vaguely reddish light in the sky. “I’m joining late as it is.”

“Better late than never?” xB remarked, testing the waters with him, trying to figure out what he needed to hear. Or maybe he was just trying to make conversation. It was an odd little language barrier between them - two strange consciousnesses, one of void one of sea, conversing through the only experience they shared, pretending to be human. It was a language neither of them were the best at, but they tried regardless.

“It's hard, xB," Etho told him, like he needed the reminder. "My body is awkward, I hate pain, and you're right, they're all so much all the time. I'm nothing. So much of me is just distant points of light and quiet moments."

"You're an airhead," xB concluded for him inelegantly.

Etho chuckled, "Only sometimes."

"Fill it with redstone then. You're good at that."

"Redstone burns," Etho told him. "I'm not ready to burn yet. I can barely do noise."

"Aren't stars loud?" xB asked him. "I feel like giant burning balls of gas are probably loud."

"Is the bottom of the ocean loud?"

xB tilted his head thoughtfully, like the question had never really occurred to him. "Define loud?"

"Human loud. Like noise."

"The bottom of the ocean probably just sounds like your eardrums bursting, then."

"The void is quiet until you touch something."

xB wrinkled his nose, "But you're always touching something."

"There's not enough something in the void to touch."

"Should be full of water."

"Water is rare."

xB hissed unpleasantly, a disgusted sound that he wasn't quite human enough to make normal. It sounded too much like the charge before a guardian strike. "Water is life."

"Life is rare, and we'd make some mortal philosophers cringe."

The two of them chuckled, because they were talking nonsense - two immortal things pretending they knew mortal concepts like life and rarity. It was funny; pleasantly distracting. It was a distraction that only lasted until they were silent.

Etho looked up at the sky and sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, xB.”

The sound of the ocean filled the silence between them, calm and steady without xB stirring it up. Etho could imagine it was xB’s heartbeat, constant and droning, an unstoppable rhythm. Etho didn’t have a heartbeat. The vibrations of the universe were random and distant, and many of them weren’t even his to claim. They were worlds and broadcasts, and advanced communicators sending data and coding across lightyears of distance.

Etho allowed himself a moment to think, really, he was quite lonely. Even sitting beside someone he should have every reason to relate to. And if he had trouble even seeing bits of himself in xB, well, there really wasn’t much hope for him this season, was there? It was a gloomy thought, but it wasn’t a new one. Yes… maybe rest was his best option after all. Like starting a new day, just a few years from now. What was time, really, to someone made of timelessness? The hermits would understand.

“You ever stop and think how cool it is,” xB spoke slowly, gazing up at the sky, picking his words with the same care that astronomers identified planets, “that we live in a universe where, in its two darkest, most desperate places, there are stars?”

Etho sat up slowly, peering out at the ocean. He could see the stars in the sky reflected in smears of light on the water. He got the distinct feeling, though, that they weren’t what xB was talking about. "You mean starfish?"

xB nodded, smirking, like he was aware it was a bit ridiculous. "The deepest oceans I've ever swam, there have always been starfish. Like deep, deep down, where the water's so heavy it sits on your chest like it hates you. They crawl around down there, tenacious little guys. Almost as tenacious as stars making themselves in nebulas, and burning up and making worlds, and burning those up too."

Etho smiled, "Are you giving me a pep-talk, xB?"

"Oh definitely not. It's only a pep-talk if I walk enigmatically into the ocean afterwards," xB stood and stretched, loose sand falling from his clothes and dusting the top of Etho's head. "I'll see you in a few days then, when your exile is over?"

He asked it like it was a real question. Like he didn't already know the answer. Etho shrugged, "Maybe."

xB graced him with one more chuckle, followed by a lazy salute, "Good luck, Etho."

xB walked into the water, shedding his humanity with every step. It seemed less like he disappeared into the water and more like he diffused into it, a collection of thoughts and ideas that colored the surface like spilled oil before melting into the tide and vanishing. Etho watched the place he vanished, watched the breaking of dawn start to lighten the sky on the farthest horizon. One star, then two, then three disappeared into the sunlight. Etho sighed, stood, stretched out his back and felt every pop and ache in his spine as he did so.

"Tenacious as the stars, huh?" Etho asked the ocean in front of him.

He got back to work.

#the barking writer #ethoslab #etho #xbcrafted #void creature etho #sentient ocean horror xbcrafted #once again i force a convergence with two of my headcanons #anyway this is 100% inspired by the fact that I watched Blue Planet with my sister last night #and i did say the quote outloud: isnt it wonderful we live in a world where in its darkest places there are stars #no i dont just wax poetic in fics for the low price of my friendship i will say dumb shit to you in real time

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