#he's no stranger to exaggerated gestures but I love how he kind of reins in his display of endless self-confidence

[the-vengeful-demon]

(Hazbin 1920s Drabble)

Dust and soot clouded my vision as I stepped off the train and into the crowded station. The smell of smoke surpassed that of anything else. The chatter of the passersby was loud and lively, and the sharp sound of the train’s steam whistle pierced my ears. Never had I been in such a noisy place. I hadn’t expected a perfect sight upon arriving in New Orleans. A lot of noise and people was all you could ever expect at a train station. But I had hoped that my arrival would be a little more picturesque. But it was just loud and dirty. Exceedingly so.

I went over to the other end of the station to collect my luggage. Other travelers ran about; boarding, unboarding, waving goodbye, waiting for an arrival. They all formed one mass that was difficult to get through. No one even seemed to notice one another as they made their way through the area. It was completely unlike the station that I had initially boarded at, and I wanted nothing more than to get my bags and leave.

To my relief, my luggage was brought to me quickly and I hurried out though the sea of people. I forced my way past everyone until I walked out into the fresh, open air. The station was a quite a distance away from the center of town, where I intended to stay. But to my relief there were a few motorcars and small carriages waiting outside to whisk people into the city.

“Carriage, cher?” A boisterous man asked, his voice laced with a heavy accent.

“Can you take me to the Hotel New Orleans?”

He gave a slight smile and opened the side door of the coach. “Of course! Just a little into the city center on rue du canal.”

My excitement got the better of me, and I hardly listened to his response. I stepped lightly in, smoothing out my dress as the cabbie threw my luggage into the back. He closed the door and hopped in front of me, giving the horse a gentle tap with the reins. We hurried along the small streets, passing by buildings that grew taller the further we went into the city. People of all kinds were about the town, some dressed in their absolute finest, and others in second-hand rags. Street musicians played their brass for onlookers; the smell of magnolia and tobacco filled the air. I couldn’t help but stop the driver when he notified me of our impending arrival.

“I’ll walk the rest of the way, if you don’t mind.” I wanted to go about the street and be enveloped in its liveliness. To see, and hear, and experience it as closely as possible.

The cabbie’s response carried a worried tone “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thank you, sir. It’s just down the street, right?”

He shook his head and pointed in the direction I was to head in. I paid him his due and rushed excitedly away with a bag in each hand. Never in my life had I seen so many motorcars, or so many people walking down a street. The heat of the sun was upon me now as it began to make its way lower into the sky. But it only seemed to bring more people out into the late afternoon. Back home, everyone would have been starting to head back to their houses after a long day of work in the sun. But it appeared as though Orleans was only starting to wake up at this hour. Couples stepped out of buildings taller than I had ever imagined. Flappers trotted down the street in their heels, only barely caring to cover their knees. Workingmen trudged along the sidewalk in groups, seeking out places to eat and drink during their off time. Children ran past, laughing and screaming all the way. I had never seen a place so full of life and activity. It was everything I had hoped it was. Just the way the advertisements and books depicted it. New Orleans.

I was grinning to myself in a state of blissfulness when a man approached me on the pathway. He was bony and tanned, with an unkept beard and ragged clothes.

“Excuse me, miss. Would you like to purchase some curiosities? Some good luck charms, potions to ward off evil spirits? Or perhaps you’d be interested in this here voodoo doll? Why, with just this doll you can bring about your wrath on your enemies! Just poke it or burn it, and your victim will suffer the same fate. It’s my guarantee!” He continued to speak in a fast and excited manner, erratically waving his products in front of me. It was all so interesting, all these bits and bobs supposedly holding supernatural power. My attention was only dragged away by a man standing closely on the edge of the street. I at first thought that he intended to cross the roadway. But he stalled at every opportunity to do so. Even as he was looking away, I could tell that his focus was upon the salesman and I.

The barker pulled my attention back just as he had finished showing his wares. “What about any of those? Anything catch your eye, missy?”

“Well, um. These are all such nice things, but I don’t have too much money to spend. Not on stuff like this. I just need to get to the Hotel New Orleans, perhaps you could-“

The exuberant man interrupted me before I could get another word out. “But you must want something! I’m just a poor man, trying to sell his genuine goods to folks like yourself.”

At this, the lingering man turned on his heel, his pretense of waiting now completely gone. He stood beside me and placed a hand lightly on my shoulder, staring solely at the shaggy merchant. He was in every way the opposite of the hawker; well-dressed and formal in the way he carried himself. He was tall and lean, with thick dark brown hair and olive skin. His smile was bright and wide, but his eyes had a hint of hostility in them, as did his words.

“Oh dear, don’t listen to this charlatan. When he’s not peddling nonsense, he’s being a dewdropper. Isn’t that right, Sam?”

“Why I-“

The more formal man stood upright quickly, now facing me. “But not to worry! He exclaimed, raising a finger in the air. “I’ll help you to your lodging, my dear. It’s not too far of a walk from here.”

And with that, he stepped aside and motioned me to the other side of the street with his arm outstretched. I took his implication and walked briskly to the opposite side as the hustler began cursing under his breath. I rolled my eyes. A quack, already? The tall man quickly followed but we stopped at the side of the road. I wanted to give my gratitude for being saved from a sham. “Thank you for that, I suppose.”

“No need to.” He put an open hand in front of him in protest. “It’s always a pleasure to expose his little ruses.” His voice was warm and welcoming, and he had a strange accent that I couldn’t place. “The name’s Alastor”. What’s yours, sweetheart?” He bent over somewhat and offered me his hand.

“Lily.” I said timidly, taking it as he shook my arm excitedly.

“Ah, a lovely name! Well, Lily I’m so very glad that you took my offer to help! I would certainly hate to leave a little thing like you alone on the streets.“

I had often heard that cities had more crime than the smaller towns and homesteads that I was used to. But his tone indicated that the problem was more pervasive than I had thought. “Should I really be that worried?”

“Why, yes!” His head spun toward me as he walked, his brown eyes wide behind his thin-rimmed glasses. “There are dangers lurking around every corner here. Swindlers, thieves, gangsters….and worse.”

“Worse?!” Shock was apparent in my expression.

“Yes, dear. Far worse.  He looked forward as he continued, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. ”The most a thief can take is your money. But there are people here that want to take more than that.” His ever-present smile faltered for just a moment.

I caught his meaning and looked away, but an anxiety came over me upon hearing his words. Alastor must’ve noticed this, as he immediately raised the back his hand to his forehead in an exaggerated manner, tilting his head back as he did so. “And I can just imagine how terrible I would feel, if you were to fall into the clutches of someone like that!”

I raised an eyebrow at his overacted tone. “And how do I know that you’re not someone like that?”

“You don’t.” He smiled, giving me a sidelong glance, likely eager to see my reaction. I said nothing but slowed my pace, almost coming to a complete stop. Alastor’s smile grew wider, and he let out a short laugh.

“Don’t fret, my dear! I mean you no harm. I just wish to safely escort a newly-arrived visitor. That’s all!”

“That’s very kind of you...but….” I avoided his eyes, trying to make my skepticism less evident.

“Is my behavior suspicious to you?” He raised his eyebrows but kept a slight grin.

My whole life I had learned that nothing was free. Everyone always wanted something in return, from goods to simple gestures. Everything came with a cost. Even back home, with the simplest of courtesies, many people always expected something in return. Food, money, a favor to be asked later. “Well, I’m just not use to people doing nice things for nothing.”

“Oh, but you are offering something in return, dear!”

“I am?” Of course he would want something. But I hardly had anything to give.

“Why, yes! I always enjoy conversing with strangers, especially ones from out of town. They tend to tell the most interesting stories…” Alastor’s voice lowered as spoke those last words, yet he seemed very satisfied with himself.

“I’m afraid I don’t have many stories to tell.” And in all honestly, I didn’t. I came from a relatively isolated area, with lots of farmland and simple people trying to make a living. But that hardly ever lent itself to good stories.

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“I’m from a small town. There never seems to be much going on. Sometimes there’s hardly anyone to talk to, and there’s certainly no travelers. Just old folks and animals.”

He perked up even more at my response, as if it was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Well that’ll change while you’re here, sweetheart! I’m sure you’ll have lots of interesting tales to take back home with you.”

I smiled awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. What was there to go back to? I tried to make my case as best as I could.  “Oh…I’m-uh…not going back. My hometown has nothing to offer me anymore. Just old-fashioned ways, some rude people, and….well..sad faces.” All of which was true.

A satisfied expression settled on his face. He seemed to delight in my poor and simple background. “Then I’m glad to offer you a welcoming introduction and a friendly smile!” Alastor’s voice was soft and warm, and my faint caution began to withdraw. He was certainly charming. I had never seen anyone smile as much as he did. He was theatrical in his mannerisms and carried himself more confidently than anyone around him. Even walking down the street appeared to be a performance for him, even as no one was looking. Eventually we came upon a grand brick building in the middle of town. It was old and somewhat small compared to the structures that surrounded it, yet it was bustling with activity.

“Ah! Here’s your hotel! You’re only staying here temporarily I presume?” Alastor turned towards me and awaited my response, despite the obvious answer.

I only intended to stay until I found more affordable and stable accommodations. While the hotel was advertised to be on the more luxurious side of things, I knew I couldn’t stay long. My finances would not allow it, and I knew I couldn’t get to use to the lavish atmosphere. I would inevitably have to settle for something less so. “Yes, just until I can find something permanent.”

“Well, I wish you all the best, my dear.” He began to turn away as he spoke, as if he had somewhere important to be. But something stopped him and he glanced back at me, wide-eyed, like he had forgotten something.

“And one more thing! Est-ce que tu parles français?”

Oh, right. They speak French here too, I thought, chastising myself for not remembering such an important detail. Though what he said, I didn’t know. I had rarely ever heard a word of the language. …”I beg your pardon?”

He just grinned, and waved his hand. “Never mind, I’m sure you’ll get along fine either way!” I certainly hope he’s right about that. “Until we meet again, my dear!” And with that he left, strolling down the street at a quick pace. But how could we ever meet again? In such a big city, you could hardly ever meet the same person twice, right?

#yes i did pull that title out of my ass #its a placeholder #this is just a drabble for now #i needed some catharsis #just gonna throw this out there #read if you want #i've never written fiction before so #this is not great #but ehhhhhhhhhhh #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfic #my fanfic #eeeeeee #don't judge me

[solarbird]

February 2075

[The twenty-seventh instalment]

"None of these are nice people," said Widowmaker.

"Goes without sayin', don't it?" said Lena, popping a bit of handmade picture candy into her mouth, flavoured hard candies with an image running throughout, looking like little round slices of pomegranate, pips and all, made entirely by pulling sugar. "These came out great, love. I thought you couldn't cook."

Amélie raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I have some talents beyond shooting people. But this is confectionary, not cooking, it is different."

"How's that then?"

"Because I am French and know better than English barbarians about food."

Venom laughed. "Oh, right. Of course."

"But - yes, that these are bad people does go without saying. Still, moreso, even than usual, these are not good people." She threw Venom a file from her padd. "Here is a dossier on everyone I expect to attend - you should memorise it."

"Gotcha." Venom slid aside news of the latest anti-Omnic violence in North America - and the latest retaliation from Null Sector - to flip through the pages she'd just received. "Huh... Most of these... they're just ordinary criminals. Bad ones, but just criminals."

"Yes," Widowmaker agreed. "They are suppliers and sellers, not movers of history. They are without ideals," she frowned. "But we need to deal with them, occasionally, and that means dealing with their, um... muscle? Yes. Muscle. Bodyguards. I had to make an example of one, a few years ago."

"That's too bad."

The elder assassin shrugged. "Yes, I'm sure he was an adorable child with a mother, once."

Venom laughed. "And probably killed her."

"I do not have room to talk," said Amélie, pointedly. "But I do not wish to make any further examples. Bringing you, I hope, will help make that less likely."

"Really?" asked Tracer, wondering if Amélie could make these candies with maltose. Chocolate's great, but variety's good too. "Why?"

Widowmaker smiled. "Your reputation in certain circles precedes you."

Venom licked her lips. "Fantastic."

"But behave," said the blue assassin. "I'm bringing you to prevent problems, not cause them."

"'Course, love," said the teleporting assassin, cockily. "Don't I always?"

"Honestly?" asked the spider.

"Never but," said the striped assassin.

"Yes," the blue woman smiled, "You do."

"Aw," the younger assassin pouted, "You're no fun today."

"Should I start lying to you, then?" asked Amélie, amusement in her voice.

"Fiiiiiiine," Venom said, with greatly exaggerated exasperation, "I'll be good."

-----

Widowmaker touched her comm. "McCree, from Widowmaker. Do we have an all clear?"

Over comms, the cowboy replied, "Widowmaker, McCree - I hear ya. All clear. C'mon down whenever when you're ready."

"McCree, thank you. We'll keep you looped in, but otherwise, we'll take over from here. Switching to monitor mode."

"McCree switching to radio silence and out."

The meeting had been scheduled for a large conference room on the second floor of a older, nondescript, and otherwise-empty metal building in Caracas, hosted by a trusted neutral party specialising in such arrangements. "Why are these things always in warehouses?" Venom asked, as she landed their stealthed light flyer on a rooftop two blocks away.

"Because warehouses are boring," replied Widowmaker. "Clients rotate in and out of light industrial facilities like these constantly, as companies build and fail, and so strangers are not..."

Venom broke in, "Rhetorical, love," as she unstrapped from the pilot's seat.

"Ah, of course," the spider said, opening the side hatch. "I will punish you later."

"Ooooh, goodie," said Venom.

"Behave."

"Yeh, yeh."

The two assassins executed their own secondary recon of the facility before approaching, and a second facilities check before entering. "Looks clean," said Venom, from atop a building on one block; her partner agreed, from atop a building the block opposite, and they fell in together.

Most of the expected buyers and sellers had arrived already, a few early, some just entering from the lower level as the Talon pair entered from the balcony entrance above. Widowmaker spotted the Menger Group's muscle as soon as she walked in, but not Javier Menger himself. She leaned to Venom as the two descended the stairwell and said, "Menger Group, on the opposite wall, but no Javier. I am concerned. He does not miss these meetings."

Venom nodded affirmatively, a subtle gesture. Texans, she remembered from the dossier. SIG Sauer specialists and neo-fundamentalist survivalists. "One of the muscle has a much better suit than in the photos," she said quietly to Widowmaker. "Something's changed."

Widowmaker agreed. "Caleb. I've seen him - and his bodyguard - before. Javier kept them both on tight reins."

As the senior assassin side-eyed that new suit, Caleb caught her glance and bristled. "I see you brought your new guard dog," he called from across the room, a bit of extra sneer in his heavy Texan accent. "She better be well-trained."

The room instantly grew very quiet. Other groups subtly edged away from the Menger representatives.

Oh, thought the spider, how tiring. The new boss feels he must establish himself, and has chosen me. "Javier, are you here?" she called, scanning the room for the older Menger. "Is this the kind of help you've resorted to hiring these days?"

"Javier's out," said Caleb. "You aren't dealing with the old man anymore. I'm running the show now."

"That is unfortunate," said the Widowmaker, wondering how recently it'd happened. Enculer, she thought. Bizarre religion or not, he would keep his promises. Aloud, she continued, "Javier was reliable, and often pleasant. I will hope his successors decide to continue that tradition."

"That right?" said the woman with him, Haley, the bodyguard, possibly a new lieutenant, judging from the swagger. "We all thought it was time for some fresh blood. People who won't let themselves get led 'round by a pretty blue face."

The Widowmaker frowned.

Turning to Venom, Haley gazed down at the much smaller woman. "But we ain't the only fresh blood, are we? Careful, little bitch," she mocked, "don't want to get hurt playin' with the big dogs." She pronounced it like "dawgs."

They do not deserve artistic deaths, thought the Widowmaker. But examples must sometimes be made.

"Venom?" asked Widowmaker.

"Yes, love?" asked Venom.

"Sting." said Widowmaker.

"Yes, love." said Venom.

She never even appeared to move. There was a flash of light, which was actually three, and what sounded like a single shot, but was actually two. Both offenders dropped to the ground, dead, individual bullets placed precisely into the centres of their forebrains.

Instant, perfect death. Not as elegant as some, perhaps, but strong lines, and good design, a clean, modernist improvisation. Widowmaker approved. "Nicely done."

Shouts of shock echoed around the room as the bodies hit the floor, not all of those dead. Venom smiled, sweetly, and looked up to her spider. "Anyone else, love?"

"Thank you, no," said the Widowmaker. "I think that should do." She turned her gaze slowly across the room. "Unless, of course, anyone else has additional commentary to bring to the conversation?"

The room became quiet, and still.

"Then shall we get to the tasks at hand?" asked the Widowmaker. Looking past the table, she said, "I'm sure our hosts can handle the mess, can't you?"

A couple of agents in matching grey suits nodded. "Just waiting for your permission to move, ma'am," said the smarter of them.

Widowmaker chuckled. "Excellent. Please do." Turning back to the room, she said, "Why don't we get down to business?"

#venom #widowmaker #tracermaker #venomaker #widowtracer #talon tracer #tracer #overwatch #overwatch au #also on ao3