Alastor's walking down the hallway towards his room, having been getting his Radio Tower ready for the next broadcast, when he hears Calliope pacing in her room restlessly - he's quickly figured out the detail that she hardly sleeps at all most nights, meaning every single morning since she arrived there's been a massive feast of a breakfast laid out for everyone bar the few days she was in Lust and Greed Ring.
Ever since that revelation, he's made sure to grab a plate, as this woman can cook better than anyone else he's ever met - he's not eating Jambalaya if she makes it, though. That was his mom's favorite dish, and she made the best Jambalaya he's ever found - call it petty or selfish, but he doesn't want to find a better Jambalaya than his mom's.
Maybe he could teach her the recipe?
He's just about to head into his room for the night, standing right at the door, when he hears a ringing sound that can only be a phone call. Shadowing to her room, he sees…she's trying to call Lucifer once again. And he notices fresh tear tracks on her face, eyes swollen - she's obviously been crying for some time now.
Once she gets sent to Voicemail, Calli says "Lucifer, it's Calli. Again. Are you even getting these? Do you even remember me anymore? Call me, even if it's just to tell me to stop calling. Send a text, something, Luci. Charlie's worried about you, I'm worried about you. Just tell me where you are so I can come over. Please?"
Alastor hums, letting out some static so she knows he's there, and asks "Another voicemail for the King of Hell? How many have you even left at this point, Calliope?"
Calliope tosses the phone to her bed, saying "I don't know, Alastor. I've lost count at this point. His Voicemail isn't full yet, I don't think, but…"
"But you're afraid he doesn't remember you."
Calliope looks away, nodding as she does, and can't quite choke back the sob that escapes her as she says "It happened before. I never told Lucifer that, but it wouldn't be the first time I've been forgotten. My friends, all their families…I outlasted them, obviously. But everyone I knew well, went to school with…they all forgot me, couldn't recognize me whatsoever when they went. A curse, or just old age maybe, but…" But it hurt so much each and every time. It was a kind of self-torture to sit beside Ron and Hermione's bedsides and have them ask if she was their great-granddaughter, to keep watch over Neville's final days and him not even recognize his old Housemate.
Luna couldn't even see anymore, but her last words would be that 'the Nephilim with no anchor would find happiness again.' She hadn't been a Nephilim at that time - that had come after this reality came to be - but she hadn't been talking to anyone specific when she said it.
She watched over all their families until sometime after twenty generations, eventually fading into a silent benefactor in the background. Set up trust funds for every family, no matter where they relocated to - at least she knew they were alright until the end, but still.
A hand on her shoulder breaks her out of her thoughts, and Calli looks up to see Alastor's grinning face looking decidedly concerned despite the ever-present smile. His other hand moves to wipe at her face, and that's when Calli belatedly realizes she's still crying - dammit, she hasn't cried, really cried, in several millennia.
Crying over Charlie's birth doesn't count, those were happy tears. Same with Luci and Lil's wedding she performed for them.
After a moment, Calli picks up where she left off, saying "I'm just…I'm worried sick about him, Alastor. Charlie said she hasn't seen Lucifer in the past hundred and forty-some years since Lilith took her and left him. And Angels…they're particularly social creatures, it's practically hardwired into them. If Lucifer hasn't had any contact with anyone for over a century…" He could've been driven insane altogether, for all she knows.
Heaven knew exactly what they were sentencing Lucifer to when they banished him, and none of them ever protested for even a moment. If the 'Fall' didn't kill him, then he'd likely have gone insane from lack of contact with anyone.
Of course, her presence derailed both those outcomes, but that's not the point.
Alastor lets out a staticky hum, asking "What about you? You've said you're half angel…"
Calli chuckles self-deprecatingly, saying "Puts me in quite the predicament sometimes, truth be told. I wasn't born a Nephilim, I was turned into one when this reality came to be. My magic was already basically chaos incarnate, that didn't change any…Fate and Magic just added something in to give me an edge in this reality. So, part of me literally needs contact with people - social and physical, no less - but the rest of me can't handle it unless it's someone I'm really comfortable with." Thank you, oh so much, everyone who turned on her time and again at Hogwarts! And Bellatrix Lestrange, to!
Alastor hums, moving his hand from her face to her hair and pulling her to his chest when wiping at her face proves to be fruitless, and eventually says "Perhaps, Ma Fleur, you should get some sleep. Calling his Highness can wait a few hours, after all." If he happens to notice that the phone is still recording...well, let the King of Hell hear it all. Let him realize just how much he's hurting this woman that's done literally everything possible for him. He may have been a serial killer in his life, but he picked targets the world was better off without - abusers, rapists, etc. He does, in fact, have some kind of moral code...along with the ability to care about people he finds agreeable company.
And Calliope, with her magic and obvious devotion to Charlie and this hotel and the life she brings to everything she does and everywhere she goes, has somehow managed to worm her way into his stone-cold heart without even realizing it.
If he were Angel Dust, he'd probably just kiss her before carrying her up to bed - and that's probably what he'd suggest for advice, after he stopped laughing. Which...no.
Charlie would be thrilled to pieces, doubtlessly.
Husk would just go get a bottle of something very strong, he's sure.
Vaggie would go into drill-seargant mode once more, like she apparently did with the trust exercises while he was in the Overlords' meeting.
Fuck's sake, his friendship with Rosie was never this complicated!
Calli scrubs at her face, then nods her head and says "I probably should. Gods, I feel like I could actually sleep all night tonight…"
Alastor says "Then, doing as much would be a good idea, Ma Fleur."
Calli hums, barely noticing as the shadows swallow herself and Alastor up through her pounding head and burning eyes - she's utterly exhausted, if only emotionally. But, after the past three months, she can't ignore the voice in her head saying Lucifer doesn't remember her anymore. Couldn't find any other excuse why he hasn't called her back, couldn't think of any other reason why he wouldn't want to talk to her - if he was mad about her leaving, he'd have called up to yell at her.
If he was in an isolation-induced black pit of depression, though…
Alastor's hand running through her hair brings Calli out of her thoughts, and she looks around to see they're in Alastor's room. "Uh…what? Alastor, why are we in your room?"
Alastor hums, saying "If I leave you alone in your room, Calliope, you'll just work yourself into an even worse state." At her look, he adds "Try and convince me I'm wrong, Calliope. Truly."
Calliope just groans, massaging her temples as the post-crying headache sets in - she's emotionally wrung-out, her head is pounding, and she feels achy all over. Maybe some sleep - more than the usual amount she gets, anyway - would be a good idea. She doesn't protest as Alastor maneuvers her so she's lying on one side of his bed, feeling too tired to insist she doesn't need anyone to take care of her - but, gods, the last time someone took care of her instead of the other way around…it had to be when Lucifer and Lilith were helping her with her wings.
And the last time they did that together - the last time it didn't hurt Lucifer like an overpowered Cruciatus, anyway - was before his 'Fall' ten thousand years ago.
Needless to say…she's out of practice with being taken care of - not that she was ever really any good at it, but Lucifer was making progress in that department before everything went to shit.
Alastor settles in next to her, turning his usual clothes into red silk pajamas with a snap of his fingers as he does, and tucks her head under his chin comfortably before asking "What are the chances we're going to wake up and this room will also be about three times as big?" That's something he's noticed over the past three months, her room has slowly morphed into the not-very-small suite it currently is.
Calli chuckles into his chest, and says "It slowly morphed into that the longer I stayed in it. My magic just seems to hate spaces smaller than a small master bedroom, don't ask me why." Hells, she knows why - or, at least, has a good guess why. Living in a cramped broom cupboard for ten years, and regularly being shoved into it even after moving into Dudley's second bedroom as a punishment when she was too small to fit inside tends to make one at least subconsciously hate small spaces. And that was before she sprouted wings longer than her arms, no less.
Alastor's shadow moves his staff to lean against the wall, and a slow jazz tune starts playing as Alastor quietly says "Sleep, Calliope." Alastor learns a few things that night after she finally drops off, much to his surprise.
1. Calliope fits in his arms perfectly.
2. The feeling of her magic settling over them not unlike a blanket is amazing.
3. She goes perfectly still in her sleep, barely moving except to breathe. No tossing or turning whatsoever.
4. She has a tiny snore that trails off into a hissing sound similar to when she speaks Parseltongue.
5. That little hissy snore of hers is adorable.
When everyone gets downstairs for breakfast, they find not Calli cooking but Alastor - Calli, meanwhile, is sitting at the table with her head in one hand and a cup of some kind of steaming liquid in the other.
Husk stares at the scene for a moment, then says "Know what? I don't want to know." He did not think Alastor - a known Cannibal who's good friends with quite a lot of people in Cannibal town - could cook.
Calli groans, waving a hand at everyone and hissing something out.
Charlie asks "Aunt Calli, what's wrong? You alright?"
Angel says "Charlie, no offense, but I can feel the fever coming off her from all the way over here. Alastor, didn't know you could cook?"
Alastor nods, saying "I can, as it happens. Calliope's sick." And, oh the irony of that - he's not sure whether it's something that's been building up or if it was brought on by her saying she's worried sick about Lucifer.
Either way…the result is the same in the end - Calliope with a raging fever, sore throat, persistent cough, likely headache she hasn't yet admitted to, and a distinct lack of her usual grace.
Charlie gets her plate of pancakes, saying "Aunt Calli, maybe you should go back to bed after breakfast..."
Calli just hisses a response, even as Alastor sets a bowl of oatmeal in front of her - nobody knows what exactly she said, but they're all fairly certain it's some variation of 'yeah, that's not happening.' Angel grabs a plate of his own, putting some sausage links onto it, and sits down before saying "Subject change…ok, Calli, you have any idea why sometimes people just burst into song down here?"
Calli nods, tiredly saying "This reality was sung into existence, that leaves a mark - even if it isn't so apparent in the mortal world. In places of high magical concentration, though…"
Husk says "When things get to a boiling point, people break out into song?"
Calli just nods, rubbing at her temples like she's got a headache. After a moment, she adds "Plus, with my magic being pure chaos at the best of times…" The sheer amount of time she's spent in Hell alone makes it almost a guarantee that demons all over the place are going to sing and dance their feet off quite a bit.
Calli sneezes suddenly, and the faucet suddenly sprouts a bouquet of Chrysanthemums.
Husk stares at the sight, then back at Calli, then promptly says "Whatever it is you've got, I don't want it. No offense." Great as the woman is, he does not want to be sneezing and making flowers spring up. Even if that was her magic, he still doesn't want to get sick if he can avoid it!
Charlie puts a hand to Calli's forehead, then says "You're burning up, Aunt Calli. Really, you should go to bed…"
Calli shakes her head, saying "I've been worse…" She's been sicker and still managed to slog through a day at Hogwarts - the detail that it was second year and everyone would've torn her apart at the slightest sign of weakness didn't help matters, though.
Alastor lets out a staticky sigh, turns the stove off before it spontaneously erupts or anything…and picks Calliope up bridal style, saying "Ma Chère, you are clearly in no shape to do anything but sleep. Be that on the couch out there or in your room upstairs."
As soon as Alastor sweeps Calli up, though…two large black feathered wings suddenly burst from her back as she lets out a startled noise from the back of her throat. The wings flap wildly for a moment before folding over to cover Calli's body like a jacket, and if her face wasn't red from a fever before now it's red as her hair from sheer mortification.
Husk deadpans "Fuck!" He did not see that coming!
Angel asks "You've had wings this whole time?!"
Calli shrugs, still not on the ground thanks to Alastor miraculously not losing his grip on her, and says "Since this reality came to be and I was turned into a Nephilim? I wasn't born with them, so I had to learn how to use them." And take care of them, and not lose control of them…
Coughing into her fist slightly, she adds "They can sometimes get away from me."
Vaggie says "And now…they're wrapped around your torso like a jacket. Wings don't...they don't bend that way! Wait a minute, this is how you know so much about Angel wings and problems with them!"
Calli shrugs, saying "Not…exactly. As for the bending, yeah, they do that. Most all the other rules never seemed to apply to me, why should physics and wing anatomy be the exception?"
Alastor sighs in irritation, static coating his breathing, as his shadow whispers in his ear that Calli's up yet again - another thing he's learned about Calliope today is that she's terrible at resting.
He's the Hotel Host, so there's always something that needs his attention…and, today, that includes Calliope herself. Her coughing and sneezing tends to make her magic even more chaotic than usual, she's blown up eight lightbulbs, and it snowed in the common area after she started coughing in there. She's already bolted to the bathroom twice to throw up, resulting in an absolute shitshow of her magic going wild until she managed to stop - and Alastor's seriously considering giving her anti-vomit medicine for the remainder of her illness to prevent that horror show from ever happening again and nearly leveling at least a floor of the hotel had he not managed to contain it all.
And now…Calliope's apparently sitting up and doing something with her wings rather than sleeping like she's supposed to be doing - apparently, Calliope is physically incapable of being on bedrest. When he shadows into her room, Alastor finds Calli sitting on her bed…wrestling with one of her wings, one arm holding it in place and the other tangled in the feathers.
After a moment spent watching her try to run her fingers through it all, Alastor says "I must say, Ma Chère, this is not what I imagined I'd be walking into. Need a hand?"
Calli jumps, then groans and says "It's just been a while since I've had the chance to do this…the feathers are kind of like hair. If I don't keep up with them regularly…this happens." And her wing-kit is made and unmade by her magic, as there's no easy way to explain having preening tools to someone who doesn't know about the wings, forget asking them to straighten out her feathers for her.
Upon closer inspection, Alastor realizes the wings are looking messy and matted, something he missed earlier this morning when they were flapping in his face before retreating to wrap around Calli's body.
Also, there's four of them all total, two coming from around her shoulder-blades, and the other two originating from the area near her lower back.
Alastor hums, saying "Given the detail that you've been rather busy with the fallout of the divorce between the two birds, it's a wonder you've had any time for anyone other than…what was his name, again?"
Calli huffs, blowing a lock of hair out of her face, and says "Paimon. The head of the Ars Goetia family - a feathered kiss-ass, more like. Every time he wants something, or wants to get in Lucifer's good graces because of something, he spews more fake flattery than I can stomach and doesn't know when to shut up."
"Lovely, truly. And, I take it you're having some troubles with your wings because…?"
Calli groans, saying "Wing care is generally more of a group activity than a solo thing. I got lucky when Lucifer offered to help me with mine way back when - that's how we really met, as it happens. The first time we saw each other…didn't go so well." The first time she met anyone in this reality, it was four Archangels exploring Earth before humanity was created. All with blonde hair and massive wings, though the broadest one had on golden armor instead of robes and had a sword strapped to his hip.
Said armored Archangel - Michael, Lucifer later told her - managed to startle her out of trying to think of a good way to approach the group...and she accidentally hit him in the chest with a beam of magic, something that was just as new as her wings.
Lucifer was the only one that didn't actively avoid her after that.
Alastor hums, sitting down behind Calli and gently pulling at the arm trapping her top wing to herself, and asks "How'd that go, then?"
"It was him and his three other brothers, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael - they were always together at that point, Angels tend to quite literally flock together. One of the reasons they can't just snap their fingers and their wings are pristine…it's meant to be some kind of bonding deal. Trust, and all that, companionship, etc." Luckily, she can use her magic to manually preen her wings…but it goes so much faster if someone else is doing it. Unfortunately for her, though, her wings are ridiculously sensitive - possible, probably, because they're manifestations of her magic and her magic is so connected to her everything. They twitch at the slightest breeze, much less being poked or pulled at, so unless she really trusts someone…they're not touching her wings, even if she has to break or cut off the offending hand.
Alastor hums to pull Calli out of her thoughts, then says "You know, seeing as I'm already here, I suppose I could lend a hand. If you don't mind, of course."
Calli bites her bottom lip for a moment, mulling it over, then says "Alright, just…be careful. They tend to move even when I want them to stay still." As still as she can keep her body...her supernaturally-sensitive wings, which she can feel everything from - are another matter altogether.
Alastor says "Noted. It certainly explains this morning, then."
Calli blushes brightly, and says "That…that was an accident. Really. I usually keep them hidden away, but sometimes they can break free if I'm distracted or startled enough."
Alastor gently turns Calli so her back is to him, and quickly realizes she wasn't joking in the slightest about how touchy her wings really are - the slightest graze of his fingers is enough to make one twitch. Well, that explains why she was holding it down like that… He has no doubt, though, that it is ridiculously uncomfortable.
Calli herself holds perfectly still, but Alastor can hear her heartrate pick up as soon as he manages to run his fingers through the feathers a few times. After a few minutes, Alastor asks "Still with me, Calliope?"
"Mm-hm," Calli says, voice sounding slightly strained, "yeah, all good…"
"Really? Because that tone of voice says otherwise."
Calli shakes her head, red hair almost hiding how red her face is - and doing nothing to hide the way her heart is pounding away in her chest - and says "Really. My wings…I imagine it'd be like touching your ears."
"Mm, I see. Should I stop?"
Calli shakes her head, saying "N-no, I'll be fine. Really…"
Much to Alastor's eventual relief/amusement…Calli eventually falls asleep as he's working on her wings, though he only realizes when he stops humming jazz tunes and hears her soft little hissing snore - she fell asleep sitting upright.
Seems that's one way to make her rest…
It's dinner by the time Alastor exits Calli's room, and Angel gives him the biggest shit-eating grin possible as soon as he sees the Overlord. Alastor stops him from saying anything, though, cutting him off as soon as he opens his mouth. "Make one crude remark, Angel Dust, and we'll be eating you instead of what's in the fridge."Angel Dust quickly nods, holding all four of his hands up in surrender.
"Lovely."