[ They both knew what it was that Vox needed, but it would remain unspoken. It was too close to the man's heart, it would be too much to say, and most of all Alastor knew that it wasn't for him to say. It wasn't needed. But he noted the groove drawn into the desk. He noted the effect that he had, and that alone was enough of a reminder of how easy it was for him to touch on it - how much he knew that no one else did.
Vox needed him, and that was better than want. But he was willing enough to relent. He could let Vox move back into more comfortable territory. ]
You need me.
[ He kicked one heel up, let it drop down, and then repeated the motion once more. There was no one who knew Vox like Alastor did. His partners could never compare. ]
You have no hope of winning, but even if you did... You would miss me too much if I was gone. 𝅘𝅥𝅮
The words cut like glass under his blue skin, digging at him like teeth. That wasn’t true. That. Wasn’t. True. He didn’t need anyone. Everywhere he got, he got because he was smarter than other people, stronger, more ambitious. Alastor had nothing to do with it.
Alastor had nothing to do with this tower, this Empire he had built. He did that for himself. He…he did it for his own drive to be better.
Of course.
His voice cracked as he laughed, the smile wide and strained as if Alastor had told a joke rather than the truth lies that spilled like water from his stupid, fucking lips.] I didn’t know you did stand up. Word of advice: give it up.
[That nail did another pass in the desk. Anyone would be able to see it now. ]
If anything, you need me. I’m the only thing keeping you relevant. You’re not necessary, redundant. We replaced you already with more modern technology.
[His eyes stared at him hard, the smile falling from his lips.]
I replaced you.
[With partners who actually wanted to do this with him.]
I didn’t miss you for the last seven years, Alastor. Why would I start now?
STOP that's it... It's him, sort of. I've raised feral kittens so that's my characterization basis.
[ Alastor's hands are tied behind him, and so no one can see the way that his fingers twitch with those last words, curling into tight fists. He doesn't much care for any accusations that he was replaced, because radio was alive so long as Alastor was. There was a reason people tuned in. It was the way that he scratched their brains. It was the way he stimulated their imaginations. It was the way that he offered them a sense of security that no one else could.
There was so much that video could never offer. Vox could never replace him. But that doesn't mean that Alastor hadn't noticed how things had changed. It hadn't even been a decade, it seemed such a short amount of time to him, but it seemed as though the world around him considered it to be so long.
Seven years sounds like such a short and long period of time when Vox says it like that. ]
That's funny. You sure seemed eager to come greet me. You were happy to take me as your prisoner too.
[ He leaned forward. It was Alastor's reputation that Vox needed. It was his status. It was his power. He won't focus on that though, because that was all just a pretense anyway. ]
Though I was happy to be away from you for those seven years. You can imagine how awful being trapped with you now is for me.
[It was a shame he couldn’t see those fists form; Vox would have taken a lot of pride in that.]
I don’t have to miss you to want to make sure that you’re put in your place. [Finally, he pulled his fingers away from the desk, feeling some semblance of control back in his hands. Prisoner. That’s right. Alastor was his prisoner, his captive, his annoying bitch, not the other way around]
And your place is in some backroom to get dusty and forgotten like other outdated tech: VCRs and pagers and you.
[That felt better. That felt like the floor beneath his feet were a little steadier, a little more solid, and he made a show of it by sweeping to his feet. Heels clicked on the floor as he walked to tank behind him and stroked the glass, watching those lights flicker in the dark depths.
He didn’t need Alastor. He didn’t.
He. Didn’t. ]
Don’t worry, Al. Once I’m up there and a god, then you won’t have to deal with, well, anything anymore.
[He smiled, over his should back at him, smug and relaxed. Yes, this was just foreplaying playing. ]
You know, if you just admit that I’m better than you, I might keep you alive for a little while after I’m in place. I’m benevolent like that.
[ He could no longer remember what pages were, but the mention of VCRs did earn a brief tilt of the head. It was difficult for him to keep up with technology, but there were some things that he could member... Wasn't there a time when they were built into TVs? He didn't think Vox had ever used a model like that though.
He might have followed up with something about that, but the offer took his attention away from the mention of technology completely. That deserved his full attention. ]
Oh, I could never lie to you like that... But if you're going to kill me, you really do need to do it properly. I won't allow you to do something ridiculous as slitting my throat while I'm tied to a chair. I want something more personal.
[ He squared his shoulders and tilted his chin up. His ears perked up before they tilted in Vox's direction. He was placated by the change in subject, and he was satisfied with the reminder of just how much the other man needs him. This topic of conversation, now, was just a little game played between them, and Alastor did find himself with a stroke of inspiration. ]
It should be something inspired, like knocking me to the ground before strangling me. The feeling of your hands wrapped around someone's neck is rather pleasant... You might get a few scratches on your hand, a few cracks in your screen, but it's all part of the experience. There's really nothing like having someone writing beneath you.
[ And if that sounds sexually charged and like breath play, no it doesn't. Alastor was no masochist, but he did find it to be a more acceptable suggestion than whatever Vox might have come up with. For two people who have known each other for so long, if one of them was going to kill the other, it really did deserve to have a personal touch to it.
He rolled the chair a few inches forward, and he kept his eyes locked on Vox, curious to see how the other would take that suggestion. ]
[No, Vox didn’t opt for the VCR/TV combo. It felt too clunky after coming off of something that was already slightly clunky itself. Besides, VCR was a TV accessory, not a necessity.
There were rules to this.
He started to open his mouth to comment on just how he would love to kill him when he realized that Alastor was still talking, doing what he did best: weaving a story. Vox could show one, could sell people on it, but Alastor? He could make people imagine what they couldn’t see with a few well-placed sentences and the flow of his cadence, could steer their imaginations.
This wasn’t any different.
Vox didn’t know if it was supposed to sound as…sexual as it did. Maybe he was around Val too much, some of that rubbing off on him, but it felt more charged than that. He could feel the heat in the wires of his flat cheeks, the screen warming as he realized more and more how it sounded. It was close, it was intimate, the motions of his body as they kicked helplessly-
The screen went blank for a moment, dark to hide his expression, before flickering back on. Red eyes looked at Alastor’s ears, his eyes, his stupid smiling mouth and what the fuck was he playing at? This was a game, but Vox had brought cards instead of chess pieces for the board. ]
That’s really cute that you’re giving the executioner suggestions on how you want it to go, but you forgot one thing. [He pushed off the tank and strolled back over, palms on the desk while he leaned over.] It’s not up to you.
[It couldn’t be. Vox had the power. All of it. Fuck the games, we’re back to poker now. It was whatever he said it was.]
Velvette has this idea of doing a poll and letting the faithful subjects vote on what happens to you, since we are going to televise it. I would be happy to add it to the list of options, though.
[ The truth is that it was a little bit of everything. He was far more cruel in his methods in Hell, but Alastor had also been a murderer in life. There was never any intimacy to it. It was fueled by raw emotions, by blind anger and hatred and despair, but he could remember the methods that he used. He could remember well how each one worked. And he is too quite aware of who and how Vox is.
Which is all to say, he wanted to mess with Vox. It did wind up being more charged than he realized, much less intended to be, but he wasn't altogether oblivious to the double entendre. And beside that, it was simply the way that these things were supposed to go. It was one thing to just slit a throat or two for some insignificant person, but for someone who was so well known, it needed a personal touch. That was always how it went in stories.
But more than anything else, he had simply wanted to see if he could get a reaction. Alastor wanted to be entertained, and he wasn't disappointed by the outcome. ]
Hmm. No. You're going to decide on what to do all on your own. If anything, I'm the only one who should be allowed to give input. You won't air it either.
[ He moved his chair closer, then leaned forward in return, grin stretching out. He really was in no position to say these things, but that would hardly stop him. ]
And I'll tell you why.
[ Though he paused immediately after saying that. He had gotten this far, but what he has to say next would mean very little if the other had no interest in this conversation. ]
Alastor wasn’t wrong, again and again, he wasn’t wrong and that made it all the more annoying. Yes, killing Alastor would be different than the murders he did to get to the top of his tower here and the top of his empire there. This was a slight. This was vengeance. This was the thing to close the loop, a project left unfinished and forever haunting him.
But to be able shut that mocking voice up once and for all, to rob the air from it and those eyes staring -
He wondered if he could get angelic gloves, then realized it didn’t matter because he would just have them custom made when he was in charge. Problem solved.]
Ha! [He laughed in his face as he leaned forward a little closer, trying to wrest the control of the conversation back to himself.] If you think I’m not airing it, you don’t know the audience. That would be a rating powerhouse, unforgettable programming. It’s going on prime time.
[He cocked his head to the side a little, still grinning. What a dramatic theater kid. As if he was any better.]
[ He knew his audience quite well. Here and now, Vox was an audience of one, and Alastor was giving him a performance that few would think him capable of. He would excuse minor slights, and he was often content to let lesser sinners run with their tail between their legs after challenging him, but overlords were afforded no such kindness. He had killed for far less than what Vox is promising now.
But this was entertainment for both of them, and Alastor was nothing if not dramatic. ]
You don't share.
[ None of the things that really matter, anyway. Stardom, money, power. The Radio Demon, loved and hated, was tucked in among those things. The Vees were only allowed a piece of the former out of necessity.]
There's only two things that a person can only experience once: Birth and death.
[ True death. Not the transition from one life to another. Not the fatal injuries. Acta est fabula. The play has been performed; the story has ended. ]
But it's only the latter that comes with such a thrill! The blind terror, the defiance, begging and pleading, sobbing and screaming, the silence... You never know what you'll get! That's to say nothing of the ending. That moment when a person draws their last breath, those final twitches and movements and beat of the heart, the moment when that light in a person's eyes is extinguished... It would be a never before seen show, and one that will never be seen again.
[ He spun around in his chair, careful not to cause it to wobble too much, before planting his feet firmly in the ground and leaning forward. That toothy grin only grew wider. ]
You won't let a single soul share in that experience.
[ Maybe Vox didn't think so now, but he would come to that conclusion. He would want that thrill of knowing that everything was done for him alone. Alastor has never been so close as to know what it feels like, but he imagines it would be a feeling like no other.
Even this plan only held a place for one at the top, although Val and Velvette would have trusted second-in-command responsibilities and titles. They were loyal; he could trust them as much as anyone could trust people down here (and for what it was worth, there was a part of him that trusted Alastor. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have agreed to this prisoner plan to start with). But the place of power? The Title? That was his alone.
Was sharing in Alastor’s death the same? Wasn’t the victory after all a part of it, letting people see how far he had fallen and his ultimate defeat? Proving to all those people that Alastor was lying when he said Vox asked him to join the team and he declined him (even if it was true) had to be a part of this. And even if it was true, showing everyone that Alastor made the wrong decision was vital.
See what happens to people that cross him.]
There are ways to control what the audience sees: camera angles, green screen, lighting, background music. I have an entire CGI floor. I can still air everything while keeping parts of it just for me.
[Vox wasn’t stupid enough to think that Alastor would beg, would sob, would admit regrets. He didn’t even think there would be a scream, at least not one of desperation and fear. Would it have been nice? Of course, but he wasn’t going to hold his proverbial breath. Alastor would fight him, would goad him on, would drive in every barb he could, but he wouldn’t beg.
And that didn’t make for the best narrative. It could be spun, but it would be delicate work.
Especially when…Vox didn’t know how he himself would look. Excited, sure. Smug. Victorious like some king. There was nothing else he would show, right? No other reaction to have when the damn deer was finally dead.
Right?
Right?!]
But you’re right about the polls at least. A god doesn’t listen to his people; everyone on Earth could tell you that.
[ There were plenty of tricks as his disposal, but Vox would use none of them. He was resolute in that belief. They were video and radio. They ruled the airwaves. They could never escape each other. Even if they tried (and they had,) Alastor does believe that they'd always gravitate back to each other, drawn to each other's signal like a boat rocking at sea was a lighthouse.
No one else could understand that, and no one else would be allowed to share in it. Those who had known them for decades knew of nothing but their rivalry. Vox wouldn't let anyone in now, no more than Alastor ever would. The death of the other least of all, because to snuff out that signal was to kill a part of themselves too.
His thoughts aren't so organized as to be able to admit to any of that, of course, but he had thought on it before. He'd thought on it many times, even as he took care not to go too far. If he had to describe why that was, he might describe it as selfishness, or even some remnants of respect from a bygone era, but a jealously guarded devotion might be more accurate.
But now that he had said all of that, now that he had been forced to think on it in earnest, Alastor did find that there was a truth to his words. It was a disgusting, fucked up truth, something that no one else would be able to understand. That it was true - if he were really going to die, if Vox were to go so far... That performance needed to be for an audience of one. No one could ever gain the right to see or hear it.
That was just how they were. ]
Of course I am!
[ But he did chuckle as he considered the words. That was right, God wasn't listening. ]
By the seventh day God had finished the work He had been doing; so on that day He rested from all His work. His rest has continued ever since, and it will until the end of time.
[ And it might almost seem like he was wholesale willing to let the previous subject go. He almost was, but there was just one more thing - ]
But you'll think about what I've said here, and you'll realize that I'm right.
[They were entwined, and Vox was unwilling to breathe those thoughts to life as Alastor was. There had been a time where he had, once, in a smoke filled bar, but that had gotten him laughed at, mocked, ridiculed. He didn’t know why Alastor hadn’t killed him that night like it was some great offense; it might have been a mercy.
It was his mistake that he didn’t.
So yes, they were tangled as bad as computer cables plugged in by a non-IT manager, wrapped around one another and knotted up, necessary to exist. But Vox refused to believe that. Refused. Loudly, extremely loudly. And when Val asked questions, Vox was more than happy to growl out how much he wanted to get rid of him or how happy he was gone or how much better his life was without him.
He didn’t know if Val believed him. He should, of course, it was the truth, the complete truth, the whole and unobstructed truth. And Val wouldn’t understand because he didn’t get entertainment as they did. Sure, he had some visions, but it was different, smaller, contained. Nothing could come close to them.][If God even existed anymore. Or ever, really; maybe He was a myth to scare humans into being good people (gross). Either way, He failed, either literally or metaphorically, and here they were, planning for a coup.
Vox stared at Alastor’s too-close face for a moment more, fingers twitching before he fell back into the chair and stared at him. He hated giving up the ground, but-]
You think I have time to think about whatever you’re saying? I have a revolution to run, and revolutions take meetings, negotiations, and more meetings, and none of them are with you.
[One of his cables slid out and tapped Alastor on the forehead, trying to push him back down.]
And even if you’re right, it’s still ultimately up to me, isn’t it? So I would be nice to me if I were you.
[ The tap to the forehead was all it took for him to sink back into a more relaxed position. He canted his head, satisfied with his victory on the matter. He could afford to yield to that last demand. He pushed himself around, sliding over enough that he could look at the man's workspace. ]
Hmm... Fine. Then tell me what you're doing.
[ Or rather, what he was doing before Alastor had interrupted him. He didn't regret that, nor did he plan on relenting, but he would be so kind as to show interest. It wasn't as though the man had any need to hide anything from him, and in fact benefited from doing just the opposite (for some definition of "benefit," given Alastor's tendency to brush him off.)
He had people to meet with, people to negotiate with, but Alastor was the only one who had his ear. It was no different than how no matter how many times he berated Vox, called him a nobody, the man would always be the one person who could command his attention. There was an unspoken give and take between them.
And to that end he added, in a light tone of voice that promised it was only a joke, ]
And just who is it that's so much more important than me?
[He turned his screen as if he could hide it, but gave up halfway through. Alastor’s nosiness didn’t change anything; he could know, honestly. He wasn’t in a position to tell anyone while being stuck here, couldn’t send carrier pigeons or other outdated bullshit back to the hotel. It would be fine.
But it was annoyed spite that tried to keep him out of it anyway. Because making things easy didn’t help.]
Last time I checked, you didn’t want to be part of this operation.
[Bitch.
He snorted and went back to typing on the keyboard, fingers a blur of dangerous teal and blues as a flurry of letters spread across the screen. The truth was, he was responding to some sponsorship inquiries and trying to create an agenda for a meeting with some overlords on his plans. It was a normal day of the usual CEO life, only with less stakeholders that he could throw out windows.
His eyes flickered to Alastor, then rolled.]
Jealous? Because I got a list.
[No one was. They both knew it and wasn’t that the worst?]
I have created enough programs to be well aware that someone spilling all their plans to their rival is the fastest way for it to go sideways. Do I look stupid enough to fall into the oldest trope out there?
[ Alastor could do absolutely nothing so long as he was playing the part of a prisoner, and that was precisely why he could intrude like this. It would just be strange otherwise. But here and now, Vox had told him to be nice, and so he's being kind in nosing around in his business. And in fact, he did follow those letters with interest. He had studied and learned and integrated himself with the higher class, but he had never joined it. He couldn't have, even if he wanted to.
But he was willing to watch, and his grin only widened. No one was jealous, and that really was the worst of it, but Alastor would play along for just a bit here. ]
Oh, what am I going to do now? That particular trope doesn't apply here in Hell, not when we already have a deal.
[ His deal was to be Vox's prisoner, and so he would be. In fact, Alastor was perhaps the one person that he could trust not to spill any secrets now. There were plenty of other things he could do, of course - but he'd promised to be a part of his propaganda parade, and that meant not doing to harm his image. Not in public, anyway; here in private, he could insult the man all that he wanted. ]
But if you'd like, I can go back to pointing out all your obvious flaws and all the holes in your plan instead, along with your pitiable efforts to prove yourself to our fellow overlords. [ With the unspoken the same ones that are afraid of me. ] It's your choice. I'm sure that you'll entertain me either way.
[…what an annoying asshole. Why had he ever wanted to be partners with him?
Because it was the only thing that had ever felt right, felt…easy.
He made A Face, fingers still floating across the keys with the gratifying clacking mechanical sounds cutting through the air. There was no effort to turn the computer for Alastor’s eyes, but he wasn’t hiding it as fiercely as before. Tuning the Radio Demon out had never been his strong suit. ]
It’s sponsorship emails and an agenda creation for a meeting with the overlords. The agenda is for me, not them; they just know they’re coming here to talk to me.
[Was that enough information, Alastor? Probably not. Already he was hitting send on one email, working on a second while also scheduling a debrief touchbase with Val and Velvette after. Alastor didn’t need to know about that one, especially when it would eventually move to a two-person lingering touchbase.]
You wouldn’t understand. Your little radio station was a small, independent project, right? You don’t know the labor and effort of running a real empire in the modern age.
[Boom. Mic drop.]
Have you even had an employee, Alastor, or have you only ever been one?
As a matter of fact, I have two right now. I know how to run a business. Who do you think has been managing everything at the hotel? I have my own casino too.
[ Not in the same way that Vox did. It was the one point that he would concede on when it came to the man. Vox had a natural talent for running large scale projects that Alastor had no interest in. But he had studied business in life and practiced a certain amount of it in Hell. He had helped with managing Husk's casino at points. And if the hotel wasn't quite the same, well, somebody had to handle all the logistics and headaches that come with maintaining a project like that.
He rocked back in his chair, and a thought did occur to him. ]
By the way, how are they faring without me?
[ Vox seemed so worried about it before. He should know. Not that Alastor was just searching for vindication here or anything. He was absolutely not still pressed about being called useless. ]
Oooh, two whole employees. How do you handle it all? Dealing with HR must be such a hassle, especially if they’re unionized.
[Ahh, how good the mocking laughter felt as it poured from his throat. Even the mention of the casino did nothing to smooth how superior he felt in this; it had nothing on his own business that was strong enough to have its own GDP. He smiled with the insecure ego confidence of someone who had the power to change the world.
And he would. He would.]
It must be a really hard day when the toilets clog and you have to deal with it, huh? [One pointed finger wiped a jovial tear from his eye as he spun in his chair once.] But we both know you’re not really in charge there.
[How were they faring? Hmm. Yes, he had spent time in front of his screens, but not as much the more the plan started to take shape and now that Alastor was here. But he had enough; the princess had her part to play and he needed to make sure she was puppeted just the right way.
Besides, he got his daily updates thanks to a special set of eyes on the inside…]
I don’t think any of them even care that you’re gone. You must not be that important to the place or them. [Fingers went back to the keyboard to type away.] I wouldn’t worry too much; I’ll be sure to keep an eye on them.
[ His expression shifted only slightly as Vox went on. He canted his head, growing more smug rather than less. He didn't feed on attention in the same way that Vox did. He didn't need it. He didn't need to grow closer to others for warmth in the winter, nor feel the sharp sting of their quills; rather, he produced his own internal warmth. He had few connections, but those he did were of the utmost quality. He had no business, but he had absolute power. Name recondition. Respect. Influence.
He had so much of what Vox did, but more of it. ]
It's two more than I need, [ He offered mildly, ] Because I don't have to depend on others. If there's something that I want, I simply take it.
[ The lateral half was curiously ignored, earning only a shrug of his shoulders. If there was anything of interest happening, the man would have been happy to rub it in, and what else could he say? He knew that he wouldn't be missed, and it had made it all that much easier to leave.
Though, well. Maybe he had hoped that Vox, at least, would recognize the fact that they should. He had certainly seemed concerned enough about what Alastor was doing there before.
But he wouldn't ignore these slights altogether. They had been together long enough now that he felt safe in shifting his position, growing just close enough to be able to hit Vox's thigh with the side of his foot. It wasn't a hard kick, but just enough to be felt, both affectionate and irritating. And of course, he was looking closely to see if he would get a reaction to it, because he was a grown man who acted like a child around this man in particular. ]
[Attention, the business, it was all part of a legacy, one he would be able to see it through this time. There was a part of him – forever curious – that wondered how things went after he died, what they said, what his name inspired in people. He hadn’t found someone to ask, not yet, but maybe once he had Heaven-
Well, it wouldn’t matter anymore. He would have the brightest legacy one could have.
And then maybe he wouldn’t want anyone anymore. Any help. Anyone to keep him warm (and they did a good job of it). Maybe it would be the thing he thought he had all this time, come to fruition.
Vox scowled as Alastor said that again, before shrugging.] I’m not so sure about that. You cared enough to give yourself up for the crazy chick and the furry; that’s a high price you were willing to pay for someone you don’t need.
[And was there something in Vox clawing at it? NOT IN A JEALOUS WAY, NO! Shut up! Why would Alastor give it up for them? Employees? Alastor didn’t have friends.]
You did something I wouldn’t do, so which one really needs someone else?
[Later, he would regret that, of course. When things were more out in the open, plans told, ideas obvious. For now, though, Vox was so sure on this line of thought…
He felt that foot on his thigh and let it derail his thoughts for a second. Pixels deepened in color and his back straightened a little; why was this asshole like this? His hand reached down and grabbed Alastor’s ankle, long fingers curling around it and not letting it down.]
You can’t even afford the place I go to get these pants dry cleaned. [Irritated, proud, smug. Curious. His thumb “accidentally” rubbed against the other overlord’s hem in a small circle.] Watch it before I take your shoes.
[ If Vox didn't want Alastor to be petty, then he shouldn't have given reason to be. He wasn't prepared for Vox to grab him, but there's little resistance even as he instinctively tries to pull away. There was, however, a small twitch in response to Vox's thumb rubbing against him.
He looked down to the hand holding his ankle next, waiting for the man to release him. ]
I have more money than I could ever hope to spend, and so do you. You can afford it.
[ He said that, though his financial situation was one more thing that no one had a good handle on. He wore clothes of high quality and wore luxury cologne, but the whiskey and cigarettes he bought were those which were popular and accessible during his era. He bought precious little else, and it was difficult to say what he had.
Fortunately, Vox could afford it, so it didn't matter. There was no problem at all. ]
And if you must know, I don't, and it wasn't for them. They were only part of the negotiations. I worked hard to obtain those two souls, so it would have been a waste not to.
[ It wasn't a lie, or at least not entirely. He had planned on drawing things out more. He had planned on having slightly different conditions. Still, the fact of the matter was that they were owned and not befriended, and he would sacrifice those two as readily as any other if it meant accomplishing his goals. Alastor doubted that the same could be said of him. ]
[Out of spite, just to be equally as irritating since he wasn’t the one who started it, Vox held that ankle a little longer.
Although he did raise his eyebrow a little. How much money did Alastor have? And how? That hotel was a money pit, an altruistic pipe dream for a delusional little girl. A cut of the casino, maybe? His broadcasts weren’t exactly known for their sponsors…]
Oh, I can afford a complete wardrobe a hundred times over and still have enough money to set on fire. The audience is always willing to pay for whatever I feel like selling them, and they only need a push about half the time.
[The dark rings of his eyes spiraled in a mesmerizing pattern for a second to prove the point, before begrudgingly letting go of that ankle finally. Here, Alastor, enjoy the minor freedom. It was the only gift he felt like giving.
Vox chair creaked a little as he leaned back, listening to that vague explanation. It wasn’t for them, but they were part of the negotiations? Huh. What did that mean? He didn’t think the man was lying; telling enough of the truth to be a smug, cryptic, annoying asshole was always part of the game.]
So, if it wasn’t for them, then why?
[Asking the question annoyed him, made him feel less like this was an earned victory.]
[ Alastor nodded along as Vox explained his riches, lifting his shoulders and letting them drop back down. He could afford it a hundred times over, so there was no problem if Alastor dirtied his pants. He could just get new ones.
He was quick to pull his foot back once it was released. He crossed his legs once more. ]
For myself, of course. Who else is there? The entire reason that I called you out was to put an end to things myself. Killing you didn't work, so this was the next best thing.
[ It was said in a roundabout way that allowed him to save face, but the implication was clear: He couldn't kill Vox, which meant Vox could kill him, and capture was preferable to death. Vox did have him pinned to the wall at the end, after all. (Nevermind that anyone who was watching would be hard pressed to think he was in any real danger when Vox just let Alastor push him away with his index finger.)
To anyone who was watching, it would have seemed to be a given that the Radio Demon had planned on killing the Media Overlord. That should have been what happened, which is what made his capture so sensational. Not a bad performance, if he did say so himself. ]
[Vox didn’t buy it, not one ounce. It was fake news, but arguing on it wouldn’t get the full truth out. He wasn’t foolish enough to think otherwise.
Although, he did sit up a little straighter, a little proud as he said -]
Damn right you couldn’t kill me, and not just because of your little owie.
[His eyes flickered to Alastor’s chest, knowing the stitched angelic wound under his jacket and shirt. It had slowed him down enough that Vox had gotten enough upper hands to make this all possible (that and absolutely nothing else, clearly). He wondered how deep it went, if it would ever heal, or if he would face his inevitable execution with it still bleeding.
And Vox would never acknowledge being pushed away that easily. Just like he would never admit that it had nothing to do with raw power and everything to do with it being…Alastor. Asshole.
One of his cables touched the back of the Radio Demon’s chair and spun it for good measure, because he could.]
I’m glad you came to the truth, though: you can’t kill me. I won’t lose to you, to your little goody-two-shoes boss, to Heaven, anyone. My personal stock has risen to new heights and I’m only going to take it higher. I won. I’m not even up there and I’ve won.
[ Alastor squeezed his eyes shut as the chair spun around. He should have expected it, but this instance happened to catch him off guard. His head canted slightly when he came to a stop, ears flopping in the opposite direction of him. He was listening to him less. He was less attentive. It was only for a handful of seconds, though, before they straightened back up. ]
Your goons helped you defeat me, but in the end, you were able to. You three forced me to yield.
[ He was deliberately using any terminology that could show real weakness here, but just enough that he could make a defeat palatable. It really was fortunate that the wires clinging to him were below that injury of him. The injury wasn't even cared for properly, having just a half-assed stitch job, so it would have been quite painful otherwise.
He gave a wide grin in return. ]
I can't kill you. That doesn't mean that Charlie can't, and it certainly doesn't mean that you won't fall to Heavenly arms. In fact, I'd say the one benefit of this little deal is that I have a front row seat to seeing you fall flat on your face.
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He does, you have a kitty and a puppy right here.
Vox needed him, and that was better than want. But he was willing enough to relent. He could let Vox move back into more comfortable territory. ]
You need me.
[ He kicked one heel up, let it drop down, and then repeated the motion once more. There was no one who knew Vox like Alastor did. His partners could never compare. ]
You have no hope of winning, but even if you did... You would miss me too much if I was gone. 𝅘𝅥𝅮
LOL I can't help but think of the fizzie Kitty.
The words cut like glass under his blue skin, digging at him like teeth. That wasn’t true. That. Wasn’t. True. He didn’t need anyone. Everywhere he got, he got because he was smarter than other people, stronger, more ambitious. Alastor had nothing to do with it.
Alastor had nothing to do with this tower, this Empire he had built. He did that for himself. He…he did it for his own drive to be better.
Of course.
His voice cracked as he laughed, the smile wide and strained as if Alastor had told a joke rather than the
truthlies that spilled like water from his stupid, fucking lips.] I didn’t know you did stand up. Word of advice: give it up.[That nail did another pass in the desk. Anyone would be able to see it now. ]
If anything, you need me. I’m the only thing keeping you relevant. You’re not necessary, redundant. We replaced you already with more modern technology.
[His eyes stared at him hard, the smile falling from his lips.]
I replaced you.
[With partners who actually wanted to do this with him.]
I didn’t miss you for the last seven years, Alastor. Why would I start now?
STOP that's it... It's him, sort of. I've raised feral kittens so that's my characterization basis.
There was so much that video could never offer. Vox could never replace him. But that doesn't mean that Alastor hadn't noticed how things had changed. It hadn't even been a decade, it seemed such a short amount of time to him, but it seemed as though the world around him considered it to be so long.
Seven years sounds like such a short and long period of time when Vox says it like that. ]
That's funny. You sure seemed eager to come greet me. You were happy to take me as your prisoner too.
[ He leaned forward. It was Alastor's reputation that Vox needed. It was his status. It was his power. He won't focus on that though, because that was all just a pretense anyway. ]
Though I was happy to be away from you for those seven years. You can imagine how awful being trapped with you now is for me.
[ They are playing. ]
OH I can DEFINITELY see that.
I don’t have to miss you to want to make sure that you’re put in your place. [Finally, he pulled his fingers away from the desk, feeling some semblance of control back in his hands. Prisoner. That’s right. Alastor was his prisoner, his captive, his annoying bitch, not the other way around]
And your place is in some backroom to get dusty and forgotten like other outdated tech: VCRs and pagers and you.
[That felt better. That felt like the floor beneath his feet were a little steadier, a little more solid, and he made a show of it by sweeping to his feet. Heels clicked on the floor as he walked to tank behind him and stroked the glass, watching those lights flicker in the dark depths.
He didn’t need Alastor. He didn’t.
He. Didn’t. ]
Don’t worry, Al. Once I’m up there and a god, then you won’t have to deal with, well, anything anymore.
[He smiled, over his should back at him, smug and relaxed. Yes, this was just
foreplayingplaying. ]You know, if you just admit that I’m better than you, I might keep you alive for a little while after I’m in place. I’m benevolent like that.
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He might have followed up with something about that, but the offer took his attention away from the mention of technology completely. That deserved his full attention. ]
Oh, I could never lie to you like that... But if you're going to kill me, you really do need to do it properly. I won't allow you to do something ridiculous as slitting my throat while I'm tied to a chair. I want something more personal.
[ He squared his shoulders and tilted his chin up. His ears perked up before they tilted in Vox's direction. He was placated by the change in subject, and he was satisfied with the reminder of just how much the other man needs him. This topic of conversation, now, was just a little game played between them, and Alastor did find himself with a stroke of inspiration. ]
It should be something inspired, like knocking me to the ground before strangling me. The feeling of your hands wrapped around someone's neck is rather pleasant... You might get a few scratches on your hand, a few cracks in your screen, but it's all part of the experience. There's really nothing like having someone writing beneath you.
[ And if that sounds sexually charged and like breath play, no it doesn't. Alastor was no masochist, but he did find it to be a more acceptable suggestion than whatever Vox might have come up with. For two people who have known each other for so long, if one of them was going to kill the other, it really did deserve to have a personal touch to it.
He rolled the chair a few inches forward, and he kept his eyes locked on Vox, curious to see how the other would take that suggestion. ]
You saw nothing of my wrong account. :P
There were rules to this.
He started to open his mouth to comment on just how he would love to kill him when he realized that Alastor was still talking, doing what he did best: weaving a story. Vox could show one, could sell people on it, but Alastor? He could make people imagine what they couldn’t see with a few well-placed sentences and the flow of his cadence, could steer their imaginations.
This wasn’t any different.
Vox didn’t know if it was supposed to sound as…sexual as it did. Maybe he was around Val too much, some of that rubbing off on him, but it felt more charged than that. He could feel the heat in the wires of his flat cheeks, the screen warming as he realized more and more how it sounded. It was close, it was intimate, the motions of his body as they kicked helplessly-
The screen went blank for a moment, dark to hide his expression, before flickering back on. Red eyes looked at Alastor’s ears, his eyes, his stupid smiling mouth and what the fuck was he playing at? This was a game, but Vox had brought cards instead of chess pieces for the board. ]
That’s really cute that you’re giving the executioner suggestions on how you want it to go, but you forgot one thing. [He pushed off the tank and strolled back over, palms on the desk while he leaned over.] It’s not up to you.
[It couldn’t be. Vox had the power. All of it. Fuck the games, we’re back to poker now. It was whatever he said it was.]
Velvette has this idea of doing a poll and letting the faithful subjects vote on what happens to you, since we are going to televise it. I would be happy to add it to the list of options, though.
Shhhh... There was no wrong account.
Which is all to say, he wanted to mess with Vox. It did wind up being more charged than he realized, much less intended to be, but he wasn't altogether oblivious to the double entendre. And beside that, it was simply the way that these things were supposed to go. It was one thing to just slit a throat or two for some insignificant person, but for someone who was so well known, it needed a personal touch. That was always how it went in stories.
But more than anything else, he had simply wanted to see if he could get a reaction. Alastor wanted to be entertained, and he wasn't disappointed by the outcome. ]
Hmm. No. You're going to decide on what to do all on your own. If anything, I'm the only one who should be allowed to give input. You won't air it either.
[ He moved his chair closer, then leaned forward in return, grin stretching out. He really was in no position to say these things, but that would hardly stop him. ]
And I'll tell you why.
[ Though he paused immediately after saying that. He had gotten this far, but what he has to say next would mean very little if the other had no interest in this conversation. ]
♥
Alastor wasn’t wrong, again and again, he wasn’t wrong and that made it all the more annoying. Yes, killing Alastor would be different than the murders he did to get to the top of his tower here and the top of his empire there. This was a slight. This was vengeance. This was the thing to close the loop, a project left unfinished and forever haunting him.
But to be able shut that mocking voice up once and for all, to rob the air from it and those eyes staring -
He wondered if he could get angelic gloves, then realized it didn’t matter because he would just have them custom made when he was in charge. Problem solved.]
Ha! [He laughed in his face as he leaned forward a little closer, trying to wrest the control of the conversation back to himself.] If you think I’m not airing it, you don’t know the audience. That would be a rating powerhouse, unforgettable programming. It’s going on prime time.
[He cocked his head to the side a little, still grinning. What a dramatic theater kid.
As if he was any better.]But fuck it, humor me.
this tag is so cursed, i'm sorry
But this was entertainment for both of them, and Alastor was nothing if not dramatic. ]
You don't share.
[ None of the things that really matter, anyway. Stardom, money, power. The Radio Demon,
loved andhated, was tucked in among those things. The Vees were only allowed a piece of the former out of necessity.]There's only two things that a person can only experience once: Birth and death.
[ True death. Not the transition from one life to another. Not the fatal injuries. Acta est fabula. The play has been performed; the story has ended. ]
But it's only the latter that comes with such a thrill! The blind terror, the defiance, begging and pleading, sobbing and screaming, the silence... You never know what you'll get! That's to say nothing of the ending. That moment when a person draws their last breath, those final twitches and movements and beat of the heart, the moment when that light in a person's eyes is extinguished... It would be a never before seen show, and one that will never be seen again.
[ He spun around in his chair, careful not to cause it to wobble too much, before planting his feet firmly in the ground and leaning forward. That toothy grin only grew wider. ]
You won't let a single soul share in that experience.
[ Maybe Vox didn't think so now, but he would come to that conclusion. He would want that thrill of knowing that everything was done for him alone. Alastor has never been so close as to know what it feels like, but he imagines it would be a feeling like no other.
It's what Alastor would do. ]
It's peeeeerfection! *chef's kiss*
No, he didn’t.
Even this plan only held a place for one at the top, although Val and Velvette would have trusted second-in-command responsibilities and titles. They were loyal; he could trust them as much as anyone could trust people down here (and for what it was worth, there was a part of him that trusted Alastor. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have agreed to this prisoner plan to start with). But the place of power? The Title? That was his alone.
Was sharing in Alastor’s death the same? Wasn’t the victory after all a part of it, letting people see how far he had fallen and his ultimate defeat? Proving to all those people that Alastor was lying when he said Vox asked him to join the team and he declined him (even if it was true) had to be a part of this. And even if it was true, showing everyone that Alastor made the wrong decision was vital.
See what happens to people that cross him.]
There are ways to control what the audience sees: camera angles, green screen, lighting, background music. I have an entire CGI floor. I can still air everything while keeping parts of it just for me.
[Vox wasn’t stupid enough to think that Alastor would beg, would sob, would admit regrets. He didn’t even think there would be a scream, at least not one of desperation and fear. Would it have been nice? Of course, but he wasn’t going to hold his proverbial breath. Alastor would fight him, would goad him on, would drive in every barb he could, but he wouldn’t beg.
And that didn’t make for the best narrative. It could be spun, but it would be delicate work.
Especially when…Vox didn’t know how he himself would look. Excited, sure. Smug. Victorious like some king. There was nothing else he would show, right? No other reaction to have when the damn deer was finally dead.
Right?
Right?!]
But you’re right about the polls at least. A god doesn’t listen to his people; everyone on Earth could tell you that.
They are truly just so sick in the head.
No one else could understand that, and no one else would be allowed to share in it. Those who had known them for decades knew of nothing but their rivalry. Vox wouldn't let anyone in now, no more than Alastor ever would. The death of the other least of all, because to snuff out that signal was to kill a part of themselves too.
His thoughts aren't so organized as to be able to admit to any of that, of course, but he had thought on it before. He'd thought on it many times, even as he took care not to go too far. If he had to describe why that was, he might describe it as selfishness, or even some remnants of respect from a bygone era, but a jealously guarded devotion might be more accurate.
But now that he had said all of that, now that he had been forced to think on it in earnest, Alastor did find that there was a truth to his words. It was a disgusting, fucked up truth, something that no one else would be able to understand. That it was true - if he were really going to die, if Vox were to go so far... That performance needed to be for an audience of one. No one could ever gain the right to see or hear it.
That was just how they were. ]
Of course I am!
[ But he did chuckle as he considered the words. That was right, God wasn't listening. ]
By the seventh day God had finished the work He had been doing; so on that day He rested from all His work. His rest has continued ever since, and it will until the end of time.
[ And it might almost seem like he was wholesale willing to let the previous subject go. He almost was, but there was just one more thing - ]
But you'll think about what I've said here, and you'll realize that I'm right.
Completely. I love them.
It was his mistake that he didn’t.
So yes, they were tangled as bad as computer cables plugged in by a non-IT manager, wrapped around one another and knotted up, necessary to exist. But Vox refused to believe that. Refused. Loudly, extremely loudly. And when Val asked questions, Vox was more than happy to growl out how much he wanted to get rid of him or how happy he was gone or how much better his life was without him.
He didn’t know if Val believed him. He should, of course, it was the truth, the complete truth, the whole and unobstructed truth. And Val wouldn’t understand because he didn’t get entertainment as they did. Sure, he had some visions, but it was different, smaller, contained. Nothing could come close to them.][If God even existed anymore. Or ever, really; maybe He was a myth to scare humans into being good people (gross). Either way, He failed, either literally or metaphorically, and here they were, planning for a coup.
Vox stared at Alastor’s too-close face for a moment more, fingers twitching before he fell back into the chair and stared at him. He hated giving up the ground, but-]
You think I have time to think about whatever you’re saying? I have a revolution to run, and revolutions take meetings, negotiations, and more meetings, and none of them are with you.
[One of his cables slid out and tapped Alastor on the forehead, trying to push him back down.]
And even if you’re right, it’s still ultimately up to me, isn’t it? So I would be nice to me if I were you.
Same. They're freaks, but they're our freaks.
Hmm... Fine. Then tell me what you're doing.
[ Or rather, what he was doing before Alastor had interrupted him. He didn't regret that, nor did he plan on relenting, but he would be so kind as to show interest. It wasn't as though the man had any need to hide anything from him, and in fact benefited from doing just the opposite (for some definition of "benefit," given Alastor's tendency to brush him off.)
He had people to meet with, people to negotiate with, but Alastor was the only one who had his ear. It was no different than how no matter how many times he berated Vox, called him a nobody, the man would always be the one person who could command his attention. There was an unspoken give and take between them.
And to that end he added, in a light tone of voice that promised it was only a joke, ]
And just who is it that's so much more important than me?
*smooshes them together*
[He turned his screen as if he could hide it, but gave up halfway through. Alastor’s nosiness didn’t change anything; he could know, honestly. He wasn’t in a position to tell anyone while being stuck here, couldn’t send carrier pigeons or other outdated bullshit back to the hotel. It would be fine.
But it was annoyed spite that tried to keep him out of it anyway. Because making things easy didn’t help.]
Last time I checked, you didn’t want to be part of this operation.
[Bitch.
He snorted and went back to typing on the keyboard, fingers a blur of dangerous teal and blues as a flurry of letters spread across the screen. The truth was, he was responding to some sponsorship inquiries and trying to create an agenda for a meeting with some overlords on his plans. It was a normal day of the usual CEO life, only with less stakeholders that he could throw out windows.
His eyes flickered to Alastor, then rolled.]
Jealous? Because I got a list.
[No one was. They both knew it and wasn’t that the worst?]
I have created enough programs to be well aware that someone spilling all their plans to their rival is the fastest way for it to go sideways. Do I look stupid enough to fall into the oldest trope out there?
NOW KISS...
But he was willing to watch, and his grin only widened. No one was jealous, and that really was the worst of it, but Alastor would play along for just a bit here. ]
Oh, what am I going to do now? That particular trope doesn't apply here in Hell, not when we already have a deal.
[ His deal was to be Vox's prisoner, and so he would be. In fact, Alastor was perhaps the one person that he could trust not to spill any secrets now. There were plenty of other things he could do, of course - but he'd promised to be a part of his propaganda parade, and that meant not doing to harm his image. Not in public, anyway; here in private, he could insult the man all that he wanted. ]
But if you'd like, I can go back to pointing out all your obvious flaws and all the holes in your plan instead, along with your pitiable efforts to prove yourself to our fellow overlords. [ With the unspoken the same ones that are afraid of me. ] It's your choice. I'm sure that you'll entertain me either way.
[ He was the one who told Alastor to be nice. ]
♥♥♥♥
Because it was the only thing that had ever felt right, felt…easy.He made A Face, fingers still floating across the keys with the gratifying clacking mechanical sounds cutting through the air. There was no effort to turn the computer for Alastor’s eyes, but he wasn’t hiding it as fiercely as before. Tuning the Radio Demon out had never been his strong suit. ]
It’s sponsorship emails and an agenda creation for a meeting with the overlords. The agenda is for me, not them; they just know they’re coming here to talk to me.
[Was that enough information, Alastor? Probably not. Already he was hitting send on one email, working on a second while also scheduling a debrief touchbase with Val and Velvette after. Alastor didn’t need to know about that one, especially when it would eventually move to a two-person lingering touchbase.]
You wouldn’t understand. Your little radio station was a small, independent project, right? You don’t know the labor and effort of running a real empire in the modern age.
[Boom. Mic drop.]
Have you even had an employee, Alastor, or have you only ever been one?
[Double mic drop.
At least in his own mind.]no subject
[ Not in the same way that Vox did. It was the one point that he would concede on when it came to the man. Vox had a natural talent for running large scale projects that Alastor had no interest in. But he had studied business in life and practiced a certain amount of it in Hell. He had helped with managing Husk's casino at points. And if the hotel wasn't quite the same, well, somebody had to handle all the logistics and headaches that come with maintaining a project like that.
He rocked back in his chair, and a thought did occur to him. ]
By the way, how are they faring without me?
[ Vox seemed so worried about it before. He should know. Not that Alastor was just searching for vindication here or anything. He was absolutely not still pressed about being called useless. ]
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[Ahh, how good the mocking laughter felt as it poured from his throat. Even the mention of the casino did nothing to smooth how superior he felt in this; it had nothing on his own business that was strong enough to have its own GDP. He smiled with the
insecure egoconfidence of someone who had the power to change the world.And he would. He would.]
It must be a really hard day when the toilets clog and you have to deal with it, huh? [One pointed finger wiped a jovial tear from his eye as he spun in his chair once.] But we both know you’re not really in charge there.
[How were they faring? Hmm. Yes, he had spent time in front of his screens, but not as much the more the plan started to take shape and now that Alastor was here. But he had enough; the princess had her part to play and he needed to make sure she was puppeted just the right way.
Besides, he got his daily updates thanks to a special set of eyes on the inside…]
I don’t think any of them even care that you’re gone. You must not be that important to the place or them. [Fingers went back to the keyboard to type away.] I wouldn’t worry too much; I’ll be sure to keep an eye on them.
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He had so much of what Vox did, but more of it. ]
It's two more than I need, [ He offered mildly, ] Because I don't have to depend on others. If there's something that I want, I simply take it.
[ The lateral half was curiously ignored, earning only a shrug of his shoulders. If there was anything of interest happening, the man would have been happy to rub it in, and what else could he say? He knew that he wouldn't be missed, and it had made it all that much easier to leave.
Though, well. Maybe he had hoped that Vox, at least, would recognize the fact that they should. He had certainly seemed concerned enough about what Alastor was doing there before.
But he wouldn't ignore these slights altogether. They had been together long enough now that he felt safe in shifting his position, growing just close enough to be able to hit Vox's thigh with the side of his foot. It wasn't a hard kick, but just enough to be felt, both affectionate and irritating. And of course, he was looking closely to see if he would get a reaction to it, because he was a grown man who acted like a child around this man in particular. ]
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Well, it wouldn’t matter anymore. He would have the brightest legacy one could have.
And then maybe he wouldn’t want anyone anymore. Any help. Anyone to keep him warm (and they did a good job of it). Maybe it would be the thing he thought he had all this time, come to fruition.
Vox scowled as Alastor said that again, before shrugging.] I’m not so sure about that. You cared enough to give yourself up for the crazy chick and the furry; that’s a high price you were willing to pay for someone you don’t need.
[And was there something in Vox clawing at it?
NOT IN A JEALOUS WAY, NO! Shut up!Why would Alastor give it up for them? Employees? Alastor didn’t have friends.]You did something I wouldn’t do, so which one really needs someone else?
[Later, he would regret that, of course. When things were more out in the open, plans told, ideas obvious. For now, though, Vox was so sure on this line of thought…
He felt that foot on his thigh and let it derail his thoughts for a second. Pixels deepened in color and his back straightened a little; why was this asshole like this? His hand reached down and grabbed Alastor’s ankle, long fingers curling around it and not letting it down.]
You can’t even afford the place I go to get these pants dry cleaned. [Irritated, proud, smug. Curious. His thumb “accidentally” rubbed against the other overlord’s hem in a small circle.] Watch it before I take your shoes.
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He looked down to the hand holding his ankle next, waiting for the man to release him. ]
I have more money than I could ever hope to spend, and so do you. You can afford it.
[ He said that, though his financial situation was one more thing that no one had a good handle on. He wore clothes of high quality and wore luxury cologne, but the whiskey and cigarettes he bought were those which were popular and accessible during his era. He bought precious little else, and it was difficult to say what he had.
Fortunately, Vox could afford it, so it didn't matter. There was no problem at all. ]
And if you must know, I don't, and it wasn't for them. They were only part of the negotiations. I worked hard to obtain those two souls, so it would have been a waste not to.
[ It wasn't a lie, or at least not entirely. He had planned on drawing things out more. He had planned on having slightly different conditions. Still, the fact of the matter was that they were owned and not befriended, and he would sacrifice those two as readily as any other if it meant accomplishing his goals. Alastor doubted that the same could be said of him. ]
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Although he did raise his eyebrow a little. How much money did Alastor have? And how? That hotel was a money pit, an altruistic pipe dream for a delusional little girl. A cut of the casino, maybe? His broadcasts weren’t exactly known for their sponsors…]
Oh, I can afford a complete wardrobe a hundred times over and still have enough money to set on fire. The audience is always willing to pay for whatever I feel like selling them, and they only need a push about half the time.
[The dark rings of his eyes spiraled in a mesmerizing pattern for a second to prove the point, before begrudgingly letting go of that ankle finally. Here, Alastor, enjoy the minor freedom. It was the only gift he felt like giving.
Vox chair creaked a little as he leaned back, listening to that vague explanation. It wasn’t for them, but they were part of the negotiations? Huh. What did that mean? He didn’t think the man was lying; telling enough of the truth to be a smug, cryptic, annoying asshole was always part of the game.]
So, if it wasn’t for them, then why?
[Asking the question annoyed him, made him feel less like this was an earned victory.]
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He was quick to pull his foot back once it was released. He crossed his legs once more. ]
For myself, of course. Who else is there? The entire reason that I called you out was to put an end to things myself. Killing you didn't work, so this was the next best thing.
[ It was said in a roundabout way that allowed him to save face, but the implication was clear: He couldn't kill Vox, which meant Vox could kill him, and capture was preferable to death. Vox did have him pinned to the wall at the end, after all. (Nevermind that anyone who was watching would be hard pressed to think he was in any real danger when Vox just let Alastor push him away with his index finger.)
To anyone who was watching, it would have seemed to be a given that the Radio Demon had planned on killing the Media Overlord. That should have been what happened, which is what made his capture so sensational. Not a bad performance, if he did say so himself. ]
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Although, he did sit up a little straighter, a little proud as he said -]
Damn right you couldn’t kill me, and not just because of your little owie.
[His eyes flickered to Alastor’s chest, knowing the stitched angelic wound under his jacket and shirt. It had slowed him down enough that Vox had gotten enough upper hands to make this all possible (
that and absolutely nothing else, clearly). He wondered how deep it went, if it would ever heal, or if he would face his inevitable execution with it still bleeding.And Vox would never acknowledge being pushed away that easily. Just like he would never admit that it had nothing to do with raw power and everything to do with it being…Alastor. Asshole.
One of his cables touched the back of the Radio Demon’s chair and spun it for good measure, because he could.]
I’m glad you came to the truth, though: you can’t kill me. I won’t lose to you, to your little goody-two-shoes boss, to Heaven, anyone. My personal stock has risen to new heights and I’m only going to take it higher. I won. I’m not even up there and I’ve won.
[He smiled wide.]
Say it.
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Your goons helped you defeat me, but in the end, you were able to. You three forced me to yield.
[ He was deliberately using any terminology that could show real weakness here, but just enough that he could make a defeat palatable. It really was fortunate that the wires clinging to him were below that injury of him. The injury wasn't even cared for properly, having just a half-assed stitch job, so it would have been quite painful otherwise.
He gave a wide grin in return. ]
I can't kill you. That doesn't mean that Charlie can't, and it certainly doesn't mean that you won't fall to Heavenly arms. In fact, I'd say the one benefit of this little deal is that I have a front row seat to seeing you fall flat on your face.
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Hey, Al, look. You broke him.
But can I break him harder?
The answer is always "yes".
oh ariana we're really in it now
*leans against the poster*
does this give him more or less motivation to take over heaven
Too early to tell. Depends on how bad he fucks it up LOL
He has a chance, but if he fumbles it, he has to take over heaven to unlock the R18+ scene
Look, he fumbles SO MUCH.
He does, but I get it on this one... If I had this man in front of me, I would fumble too.
Guilty as charged.
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This man is sobbing on the inside.
Ohh, Vox, honey... Complicated and sad and so very stupid.
It's a wonder that Al puts up with him.
Codependency is a Hell of a drug.
These two fools. Also, sorry about Vox's bitchy temper tantrum.
It's fine, is it really Radiostatic if somebody isn't making an ass of themselves?
You're definitely not wrong!
lbr Alastor is being pissy and petty too, just in the opposite way.
Giving him the silent treatment is weirdly effective.
He needs his wife's attention to live... :( cries we can probably wrap here tho
Just one last one, first!
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