Alastor has been rather generous with you lately. Smiling. Chatting. Letting you linger in his corner of the hotel. You've started to think you're on good terms with the Radio Demon.

You are not wrong that he's polite. You are very wrong about what polite means.

To you, this is friendship. To him, you are useful. And when you forget the difference, his shadow is quicker to remind you than he is.