Chapter Text
The relief numbed the ache in his joints, the shape of his soldering pen still molded in his hand. For the first time in a very, very long time, he tipped his head back to look at the sky splashed in color as the sun set and the stars blinked to life. No industrial smog, no swirling vortex dipped in the color of blood.
They were successful.
He was successful. The first time. He was a little too late for the second round.
Well, more like his sacrifice had not been in vain. It felt different to see it with his own eyes - not that he didn't trust Emily or Sera's reports on the well being of his friends. Sometimes, with a mortal soul, seeing is believing. It was real. The screen of his invention had gone dark with the loss of the connection and frayed power source.
Perhaps when he had time to figure out a wider bandwidth…
Pentious swallowed thickly when he felt his face grow hot, tears appeared at the corner of his eyes fast, and fell just as quickly, as he replayed their voices in his head. The cheers. Hell cheered for him.
He removed his hat to wipe the sweat from his face with his arm. It would be useless to dig for a handkerchief now after working, thinking, building, soldering without ceasing at such a pace and every inch of his clothing needed to be cleaned. Pen didn't bother to scrub the tear marks from his face, they'd only immediately be replaced with new ones. He looked at his reflection on the blank screen, but he still saw Cherri.
The residual glow of the pixels stayed a little bit longer like the older televisions. Her hair, her smiles, her fight.
Whole. As vibrantly passionate as always.
"You're- You're a fucking—dork!"
Her laughter didn't remind him of soft spring, but a summer storm. The air charged with electric currents and thunder rolling in over the Thames. The flash of her sharpened teeth like lightning. Her anger transforming into…endearment. Rain healing the cracked earth of drought.
Dangerously, he realized he might love her more than he had before.
Surely, it was advised against. Surely, there was only so much room in him.
He was tall and his tail was quite bulky but…
Pen laid his hand flat on the broadcast generator, his claws lightly tapped against the metal. A laugh bubbled out of his throat and tears fell more freely than before. He turned his face once more to the Elysian sky and whispered his thanks.
For the opportunity.
For not being jailed permanently or smited into particle dust.
Did the Speaker watch television?
Did she see his friends?
Did she see the heart and courage and love and fight that damned souls could still hold in clawed hands?
His soul felt lighter than he ever thought it could be.
It wasn't the end, nothing was ever so neat and tidy, but how this night came to a close was more than he could have ever asked for. It was with a gratitude that stood incomparable in all his near 200 years of existence.
The pops and bubbles of a seraphim's portal fizzed to life behind him, the cool aura ebbing from it was welcome after feverishly working against time and all manner of physics. When Pentious turned around, Emily was the first through the portal and his eyes snapped directly to the mangled wing over her shoulder.
A broken sound escaped him before he could stop himself.
"Miss Emily, are you—"
"It's okay. I'm okay! We can fix it. I still have plenty of wings." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed tight when he returned the hug. It was silly for her to be the one to comfort him. Even if it was her job. "You did it, Pen!"
"Hardly comparable compared to what you and the othersss have achieved. I wish I could have ssseen it, so you musst tell me everything." Pentious let go of Emily to offer his hand out to Sera as she stepped through the portal.
He bowed his head when she took his hand and squeezed once. "We all did sssplendid. I hope you got to meet them. They're a little rough around the edgess, but they are amazing friendss."
Sera smiled at him, glittering tears still gathered in her lashes and there was that flickering shine—the uncertainty of things come to pass. Her eyes cut quickly to Emily, a brief look shared between the seraphims that he had come to understand as a silent conversation. To tell or not to tell.
That sinking feeling returned to his stomach. "What? Wh-what's happened? Isssn't e-everyone al-alright?"
They were whole, they were fine. In the sparse moments of dead air between Heaven and Hell, what could have happened?
Emily took his hands in hers and laid one hand over his. She didn't flinch away from the scales, the clammy sweat, or the number of callouses and scars. She had never flinched from him. "After your connection was cut out…"
Cherri.
Charlie.
"Pentious, Angel—"
As in an angel. Any angel. Not Angel, capitol A.
Formidable. Deadly on his own and something different altogether in battle beside Cherri.
It couldn't be.
"—left with the…" Her brows furrowed before she glanced over her shoulder, up at her sister. "The ones with the tower, that tried to take Heaven, Vox and—?"
"Th-the V-Veessss?!" Dread left a sour taste in the air, heavy on his tongue.
Emily squeezed his hands. "Vox was using him to spy on the Hotel without him knowing it. He didn't know. It wasn't his fault."
The hypnosis.
Pentious pulled his hands back, recoiling for only a moment before he slithered past Emily to reach the shrinking portal. "I mussst see them. Ch-Cherri and H-Hus-ss-k—"
Angel's little pig demon, Fat Nuggets.
A firm, yet gentle, hand on his shoulder stopped him. Sera's voice came to him from hundreds of miles away. "I'm sorry, Pentious. We don't know yet if a portal is safe for you. If something went wrong and you were harmed, I couldn't forgive—"
His shoulders slumped as the portal bubble closed, the distance between Heaven and Hell stretching back out to its usual length. A glittering light that separated him from his friends, from the world he knew for nearly 140 years. He knew Sera was right, that such experimental travel would require thought and preparation.
If it was even possible.
Plenty of things were impossible 24 hours ago and look where innovation and drive had gotten them. Pentious turned back to his machine, ideas came to him in dizzying formulas. His head pounded with the threat of a headache if he didn't slow down. "But how can I-?"
Think, Pen. Think, think, think.
What could he—
Oh.
O h, he's so stupid for forgetting he can just—
"If I wrote a letter, may we try to sssee if it can pass through your portal back to Hell?"
Sera nodded as she squeezed his shoulder. "Of course."
He knew he should rest - take a shower, change into his pajamas, and eat something - but once he set his mind to something, there was never much anyone or anything could do to change it. Besides, he sensed there might be more the seraphims wished to discuss between themselves, so he excused himself for the night and headed for his quarters.
As he left the council hall- er, palace? - there was another set of eyes he didn't notice watching him. Maybe if he had retained just a couple of eyes on his tail, he might have seen them.
On the street, if anyone's eyes lingered a little too long on him, he ignored it. But when they smiled and waved, he politely returned it because he was civilized. And likely the winds of change were just as apt to blow out of his favor if he didn't meet the citizens of Heaven half way. The air was still rife with the same confusion and uncertainty when the barrier was destroyed, with it fear after Vox's televised threat lingered, and…relief. Quick and delicate.
The Eggs fluttered to the doorway the second he got through the door, nudging his cheeks and shoulders and rooting under his hand for attention.
"We will have a lot of work ssset out for us tomorrow. The Gate musst be repaired and the broadcasst generator needs to be bigger—ssstronger…Better." Pentious gathered the Eggs into his arms and held them to his chest. "I could use some asssistance, if you would like to help me."
Their smiles were incredibly bright and large as they started to speak.
"B-b-aws."
"Bo-oss."
"Boss."
His chest tightened. In a rush of emotion, he was transported back in time. Suddenly in the confines of his workshop in a Zeppelin he heard clicking and whirring in his sleep (even now). Securing his hood out of the way and double checking that his safety goggles were properly tightened before he adjusted a smaller pair of goggles over the face of 27; who nearly lost an eye running rampant with a sharpened divider. Pentious checked that the goggles weren't too tight before he sent the egg back to their task. Tools littered the floor in winding paths, wads of paper everywhere, and splashes of coffee dotted across the floor—the efforts of a hard worked night and fumbling hands.
With great effort, Pentious pulled himself back to the present and if he held the Eggs in his arms a little closer, they didn't complain. "Very well, if that's what you would like to call me."
They shuffled together over to his desk, he deposited them nearby so he could remove his hat and jacket, pull out his chair, and take a seat.
It'd been a long time since he had reason to write a letter or someone to write to.
Pentious opened the drawer to pull out a few blank pieces of paper and a heavenly pen—delicate and ornate and odd to hold in his hand until he found a comfortable position to write with it.
Miss Bomb-
Miss Cherri Bomb-
Dear Miss Cherri Bomb,
I am so sorry to hear about—
He tossed the pen down, wadded up the paper, and dropped it unceremoniously into the bin beside his desk.
Too formal, disconnected. Like a telegram announcing the death of a loved one on the battlefield. As…similar as that might be, it certainly wasn't what he wanted to convey.
The truth of it was, Angel is his friend too. Without Angel, the Hotel wouldn't have grown half as close as it did. Pen wouldn't have gotten to see Cherri one last time. Owed a portion of his own redemption in no small part to Angel.
He restarted the letter.
He wished now more than ever that he could talk to them—Cherri and Husk and Niffty and Charlie and Vaggie and KeeKee and mourn this change with them. For the moment they would draw up a plan to help Angel, to get him back. Pentious would gladly shut himself away in the Hotel's kitchen with Niffy to assist him on another baking project to bring everyone some small amount of comfort.
Pentious wasn't sure how busy the Speaker was (probably very). Would she want to listen to another of his heart's laments? Could he convince her to merely call upon the powers of the universe and the moon and stars and shred Angel's contract?
Too big an ask most likely.
Pentious rolled up his sleeves and picked up his pen to start once more.
Dear Cherri…
Pen tapped the end of his pen against the corner of his mouth, thinking before he spoke. "You know, one time KeeKee snuck Fat Nuggets a few of her treats when no one was looking. The brimstone spicy sort that are kept in the top cabinet of the kitchen with the rest of her food. He really quite liked it, though we feared it might harm him in some way. Hell hogs aren't known for weak constitutions by any stretch of the imagination, but you never know. He's still quite young."
Pentious smiled at the memory. "He was fine but he burped small flames for 20 minutes after. Niffty found it wildly amusing and attempted to chase him down long enough to roast a cockroach on a stick. I believe the only casualty was a set of drapes."
This wasn't so bad. He was a little rusty, but first letters were usually a little clinical until the conversation got going.
Another memory, another story, another point of connection came to him, taking up the empty space he was painting with his care, his concern.
"Husk was teaching me about 'good' jazz. It's very important that I know the difference, at least that's what he stressed. He has a radio behind the bar we would listen to a performance on every now and again. Would you ask him for his next recommendation? Perhaps I might find some copies here."
Soft notes filled the Hotel lobby, the music unfolding in Pen a longing for a place he'd never known.
"This, kid, is Moonlight Serenade."
"Total panty dropper, FYI," Angel had piped up with. He lazily spun around on the bar stool to point a finger at Husk. "Don't forget to show 'im 'Embraceable You'."
Husk narrowed his eyes at Angel. "It's always the same with you."
"Are you tellin' me you ain't ever slow danced and batted those big ol' glittering peepers a' yours at someone for a little action? Y'know, when ya had a soul?"
Pen blinked before he glanced back down to the notepad he had been keeping for Husk's music recommendations and started to jot down what they'd said.
"Do not." Husk pointed a claw at him. "Write what he said down."
"Write it down, Pen. Trust me, it'll come in handy when you go d—"
In the letter, he chose not to include the memory or what Angel had said to get Husk's paw in his face, shoving him off of the bar stool and onto the floor. Though something Cherri would find entertaining from start to end, it was the matter of writing the words.
The insinuation.
Couldn't just go firing off such language on the first letter.
Do you listen to jazz, Miss Bomb? I would hear any recommendations you have as well. Miss Emily was kind enough to make me new Egg Boiz, maybe I can have proper assistants again.
Pen paused, looking over the space his words had filled and figured it was sufficient enough without being too much. "I am so—"
Relieved.
Elated.
Enchanted.
More sure of his heart than he ever had been before.
"—happy to have spoken with you once more. To see you well. Perhaps, until Baxter and I have more time to sort out the frequency wave between the realms, we could communicate like this? If you wish."
Sincerely,
Sir Pentious
He left the letter out for the ink to dry and raised from the table, picking up his coat and hat. Tomorrow, he would find Emily and pass it along for her to deliver with fingers crossed that it made it across to its intended recipient.
In the morning, Pentious reread his letter over a cup of coffee, the machine provided in his quarters was well enough and sufficed, but he had plans to modify it later. The Eggs rolled around on their sides over the floor, around the table, over the end of his tail. Their wings tickled his scales.
He set down his mug and stood, coos and squawks of disappointment followed him as he went back to his desk for the letter and his pen. "You shall live. Besides, I'm coming right back."
Pentious sat, thumping his tail against the floor to show them that he kept his word and they could resume conquering the summit of his body and circling the table. He would have to find them some toys for sensory stimulation. It took time for his Egg Boiz in Hell to learn speech and coordination to entertain themselves while he was busy and Emily's eggs would too it seemed, but his crew had thumbs. This lot would be different.
In life and death, he had been an early riser (if he even went to bed) and it had been nice in the quiet of the morning reading a book with tea or coffee in the lobby before anyone else had ventured out of their rooms. Almost always, he would catch the slight creek of a door as it opened and shut. KeeKee would make her way to the staircase, trotting down it and stretching her body as far as it would go after she hopped off of the last step.
The gleaming teeth in her tail and tongue working out a dramatic yawn.
"I believe Charlie said I'm ssuppossed to declare, "Ooh, big ssstretch.""
He sought out his pen one last time to add a line at the bottom.
P.S. Would you pass along my greetings to KeeKee, Razzle, and Dazzle as well?
He felt a flutter by his face, his only warning before a mouth and tiny teeth chomped down on his sleeping cap's eye on the end of it causing some of his vision to go dark. Pentious jerked away and pushed the Egg back, but it was much too late. The cap went with the Egg and they were off with their prize, the other Eggs hot on their heels as they zoomed through the rooms up near the ceiling. Pen smoothed his hand down his hood and grumbled.
The little shits had a most disruptive way of telling him 'food, now.'
-
Once he made all of them their breakfast and went with them on a short walk, Pentious brought the Eggs back to his rooms for them to rest while he would be out. He dug around for an envelope, carefully wrote To Miss Cherri Bomb on the front, and sealed his letter inside. He tucked it into his breast pocket, attempting a steadying breath as he pressed his hand over it on his jacket and left.
His wings fluttered anxiously on his back the entire journey to the….palace? Yes, probably considered a palace here. His presence drew a bit of attention as he ducked into the door and crossed the lobby to the front desk.
The angel behind the pristine, marble desk gave him a look when they noticed he was there. A small smile that meant recognition and maybe even a little bit of approval, at the very least a welcome.
"Is Miss Emily available?"
"She and Sera are with the board. If you promise to wait until they're done, I'll tell you which floor and room number."
Pentious laid his palm to his heart, the faintest crinkle of paper sounding from his jacket. "You have my word."
They nodded and wrote down the information, directing him to the elevators.
Someone's word, their promise, meant something here. His word was believed and trusted, sacred as anyone else's. He saw something in the angel's eyes achingly familiar when they smiled and nodded him on his way—the light and belief Charlie had in him. A gift passed down maybe.
It was nice to be believed. To be welcomed into a space.
Comparatively to the warm greeting, the wait outside the ornate and towering doors of the council hall was clinical. With no one in the halls, the environment seemed sterile. He was still getting used to the color scheme and after the arrest debacle, he was trying to see the comfort and beauty Sera and Emily held dear for this place.
He sat with his hat in his lap, allowing his tail to tap against the floor while he waited.
The meeting would come to a close.
Emily would take his letter.
His letter would make it through the portal.
The heavenly paper and ink would not crumble in Cherri's hands and she would read it.
She would see that he had no plans to allow the broadcaster's malfunction to eclipse his intent to connect with his friends again.
Shit, he should have written Charlie as well.
And the others.
After they know if this one would make it through, he would definitely do that.
When the doors opened and the angels began to file out, Pentious stood in an attempt to see how far back Emily was in the line or if she was even in the room - perhaps she had left through a different door?
Just as he was certain that she wasn't there, Emily ducked under someone's elbow to get to him in a flurry of words and wings. Her smile was bright and the golden blood was washed away from the base of the wing that wouldn't regenerate. Pen slipped his hand into his jacket for his letter and passed the envelope to her, thankful his hands shook only a little.
Hope was the flutter of a butterfly's wing in his ribcage as she took the letter carefully.
"I'm going today."
Pentious swayed on his tail. "R-really?"
Emily's smile widened and her nose scrunched up. "Right now, actually. The council's agreed for me to portal through Heaven and Hell to work with Charlie. I think- I think they're coming around to the idea of reaching out and recognizing her authority."
A voice cleared their throat behind them and Pen froze as Emily looked back at the last council member standing outside of the doors. They raised their brow and gave her a knowing smile before moving down the hall.
The seraphim laughed nervously as she turned back to him, her hand going up to play with her hair. "I may have had to agree to not share all of the details…for now."
"That's alright. I trust you. I realize I have been in conversations and rooms I wasn't always invited to, for now I'm happy to adhere to their boundaries." As long as they don't shut him out. As long as they don't tell him he can't talk to his friends. As long as he is not a caged bird hidden behind a glittering shroud he could not see past. He would accept that he couldn't see them for the time being in the hopes that it wouldn't be like that forever.
Once Emily separated from him at an intersection of hallways, he made his way back to the lobby and out onto the sunny promenade. No one pushed past him or cursed at him, though a few did put a little more room between them than others did. Understandable.
He decided to explore more of the town proper at his own pace, to occupy himself while he waited. There wasn't a promised time. It could be a few days before he would hear back from Cherri if the letter made it through, but the first day of waiting—right now—would be the worst.
He found a tea shop first, a wonderful store that was quite bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, a toy store where he picked out a few things for the Eggs, and a lovely corner bookshop. It was easy to get lost in the aisles, carefully scanning the shelves as he wove deeper into the stacks. The stationary section caught him by surprise.
Quills, inkwells, and ink with nearly every color imaginable.
Parchment. Papyrus. Notebook paper. Drafting paper. Paper as thin as a whisper in pastel colors. Twine. Manila envelopes. All sizes of envelopes. Seals and wax. Stickers and stamps. An angel sat behind a desk a little ways off with signs that listed the options for personalized stamps.
It was too soon to commit to any of it without knowing if Cherri wished for him to write her. Optimism sang its siren song to purchase the paper.
The ink.
The envelopes.
Manifesting or whatever they called it now.
She might not like letters.
The door blew out with a blast, an insurgence of smoke filled his workshop that sent the Egg Boiz into a panic as they ducked the debris. All it got from Pentious was a roll of his eyes and a sigh that rattled from his chest down to the tip of his tail.
"You know I had moved the Zeppelin and locked the doors and windows for a reasson, Cherri Bomb. I underssstand literature isn't for everyone, but 'Do Not Disturb' is hardly heavy reading. You know, the words possted on the door you jusst destroyed?"
Cherri tossed another bomb lazily from hand to hand as she appeared out of the dissipating smoke. "In my experience, the best kinda doors are ones that say to beat it. There's always somethin' interesting goin' on behind 'em."
"I don't have time for this today, I—"
"Aht, you signed away your right to personal free time when you tried to go behind my back to secure my turf." Cherri pulled a paper out of her pocket and shoved it into his hands. "It's the 21st century and you're still using snail mail? Embarrassing, boring, and stupid leaving a physical trail."
Pentious drew himself to his full height, calmly pulled his ray gun out of his coat, pointed it at Cherri, and held the letter righteously over his shoulder. "I think you'll come to find that it'sss not me that misscalculated, Missss Bomb."
Her mouth screwed up and her hair puffed out with annoyance. "The fuck are you on about?"
"It isss called a trap."
She might need more time to sort the truth of his continued existence, to process it all. None of them knew he was alive for an entire month and everything else after happened so fast.
Pentious pulled his hand back, scant centimeters from a bundle of paper. He could lie to himself and say it would be to correspond with Charlie, he knew she would love to exchange letters, but…it would hurt a bit if it was only for Charlie. The drafting paper was definitely coming home with him though.
It took all of two hours.
He really tried to take his time!
With his bags in tow, he started his way back to his quarters, studying the different signs and advertisements on the way. He made mental notes of a few more places to check out when his arms weren't already full. Perhaps he'd drop his purchases inside the door and set out again.
What he didn't expect was for Emily to find him at (what felt like) 276 miles per hour, wrap her arms around him - her laughter like bells over his gasping breaths - and shake them both from the sheer force of her excitement. They tumbled to the ground and his bags fell open, their contents scattered across the sidewalk.
A few people stepped quickly to one side to avoid them as he fumbled to offer quick apologies.
No one gave them so much as a dirty look for slowing down foot traffic.
"E-Emily?," Pentious nervously twittered.
"We did it, Pen!" She buzzed in his arms and her wing caught him in the face. "I was able to give her your letter! It made it through!!"
It-
He slumped with relief, melting into her hold, and patted her shoulder. "Thank you so much, Emily."
"Aaaaand-!" The seraphim pulled away to wave an envelope in front of his face. "She wrote you back!"
Pen blinked at the envelope. "Sh-sh-ssshe…" When his tongue flicked the air, he could smell gunpowder and the scent of the Hotel. Home. "Wrote back?"
Carefully, he held his hand out for Emily to lay the envelope in his palms.
"I'm pretty sure she really liked it. She was definitely surprised, but like good surprised!"
A part of him that he could never put down—left behind like a coat worn nearly to threadbare, forgotten on a coat hanger in the back of a closet—a part of him that would never leave him or die, was pleased. Pleased that he could still catch Cherri Bomb off guard. Despite the wings and the halo, despite his promises to be good and the acceptation into this higher realm, he thirsted and hungered for it. The thrill of the chase.
(If they wanted him to leave behind the taste for the hunt, they shouldn't have left him in the body of an ambush predator.)
Four eyes traced the familiar curve and slant of Cherri's handwriting, she had tagged enough of his property over the years that it was almost as familiar as his own. But there was something about seeing it on paper, a physical thing he could hold delicately in his hands that felt different.
He could feel Emily's eyes on him as he opened the envelope.
Pentious glanced up to catch her with her hands pressed to her cheeks and her eyes wide and gleaming. His heart quickened, fearful that this was all just a dream or that the second he held Cherri's letter in the open air of Heaven, it would disintegrate.
The paper remained intact.
It was more than he could ever hope for.
"I should…read this later." He slipped the letter back into the envelope and placed it carefully into the bag with the drafting paper. Pen offered Emily an encouraging smile as her excitement fizzed out. "We're quite in the way on the sidewalk like this."
"Oh." Emily glanced around, her cheeks flushing gold as the world began to exist once more. "Yeah, right. You're right." She gathered a few of the things that spilled around them and assisted in putting them back into the bags. She offered her hand out to help Pentious stand up. "Guess I got a liii-dd-le excited."
She pinched the most microscopically tiny bit of air between her thumb and index finger, making him laugh.
"A little, yess."
"Aaare you going to write her back?"
Pen balanced the bags in his arms and turned back in the direction of his quarters. "If she so wishes."
"Well, I'll take it to her as soon as it's ready!"
"That is very nice, Emily, but I don't want you to feel obligated to ferry out correspondence the moment one of us is done writing. You have other, more important matters to attend to."
Emily gave him an odd look, her head tilted to the side as her brow twitched, her smile morphing into something he feared was going to turn into another body slam to the ground. "You- I mean, of course you wouldn't kn—"
"I wouldn't what?"
"Pen, Cherri's been staying staying at the Hotel."
"She…"
"And you're the first redeemed! The letters are none of my business and I won't ever read them—no one will ever read them without you or Cherri's permission—it's kind of part of my job. Or at least, a supported interest in my meetings with Charlie. Am I talking too much? I'm talking too much. I wasn't supposed to tell you about—….at least not yet? I think."
On the verge of having a crisis or 12, Pentious steeled his nerves and willed his voice to be even. "It's alright, who hasn't let excitement get the better of them before?"
Double checked he had all of his bags.
"I won't repeat any of what you've said, I swear, and if Sera and the Council decide to include me in any discussions, I'll still act surprised."
Smiled until she relaxed.
"Thank you, Pen."
"I shall talk to you again soon."
Waited until she flew up from the sidewalk and around the corner and calmly counted to 10 before he took off.
If he slithered and flew a little faster than usual, if he ducked and weaved between other people when he would normally, politely, not zip around and past with hurried 'pardon me's, he was sure they would understand if they knew what he carried in his bag. How revolutionary it could be for previously mortal beings of no consequence—not linked to power structures or monarchy or ranking in Hell or Heaven—to trade correspondence.
Emily and Charlie and Sera and Adam and Abel and Lute and Vaggie and whoever else might find cross transfer of a physical belonging simple, but their power source could have been the reason for the item's stability in realms not native to their own.
Paper was such a delicate thing.
When he got inside, he set the bags on the table and reached for the one her letter was in. The Eggs found their toys fast enough and briefly scuffled amongst each other to be the first one to wiggle their way into the empty bag.
With shaking hands, Pentious carried the letter to his desk, sat down, and broke the seal of the envelope with his claw.
It took every shred of self control not to rapidly zip over parts of the letter and force himself to read it slowly, from the beginning.
Hey Edgelord—