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.
[For the moment, the ears were ignored. Goons? He knew what it meant: underlings, sure. People he controlled. And it wasn’t completely wrong as he was in charge, but it wasn’t right either. They were friends. Moreso, they were as much of a family as one could have in Hell. Just a family he was head of.
Alastor couldn’t say the same about his lackeys.]
No, they kept yours away from interfering. Me beating you was all me.
[Give him credit where credit was due, right? He had done it, he wore the crown, he led the parade. Val and Velvette helped keep it private (and maaaaybe a stray bullet or six were pointed at Alastor), but it was his own laurels that he rested on. Don’t you forget that.
There was a leveled look at him.]
Is that a joke?
[Flat face? Television? Rude.
He shook his head before raising a hand and curling the fingers into a fist. Heaven wasn’t going to take him down, not with what he had planned, what little tools were starting to be built. It was his already; they just didn’t know it yet, but he was excited to show them.
He pushed away from the desk and walked to the other side, sitting on the edge next to Alastor’s chair. One hand reached out and patted him on the shoulder.]
Your princess won’t touch me; she would try to save me first, and we both know that isn’t happening. As for Heaven, I’ve got that covered. The army I’m building should have everyone up there pissing in their boots. And as I sit in whatever throne they have up there, I’m going to find a way to broadcast this to all seven rings.
[ And that was true. Vox was completely dependent on others. He was the one who was shackled and chained to his partners, while Alastor needed neither of the souls that he owns. In fact, they were dependent on him. He lifted his chin upon hearing the claim that it was all Vox's work, his expression growing both more smug and more mocking. That wasn't even close to the truth, not yet.
The question was met with a shrug. He was above making jokes about Vox's head, it was too much of a cliche, but the turn of phrase really was made for Vox. His flat face would fall flat. He had been quite deliberate in saying it that way, and it really was a shame that Vox couldn't appreciate it.
The pat to the shoulder is accepted, and he looked up to Vox. ]
You see, that unearned confidence of yours is what will make it so satisfying to see your plan fall apart. There's nothing more satisfying than that moment when a person with an overinflated sense of confidence realizes they've lost everything. You should know the feeling well.
[ How satisfying it was, that is. The path to becoming an overlord was paved with blood and bodies and endless suffering, and there really was a special kind of satisfaction that came with being able to facilitate and witness it. ]
[Heeey. He wasn’t dependent! He could do just fine without them. It was simply the lot of any CEO to have employees, for any king to have servants, for a god to have worshippers. His role was bigger than a silent, monstrous threat that dwelled in the shadows; he was going to be seen. Control those around him.
That…that was different. Completely different. If he was in command (his rightful place to be, mind you), then no one would be above him. No one could command him, subjugate him, could ridicule him.
Could hurt himagain.
Vox spun him around again so he wouldn’t have to stare at how smug those eyes were, how sure they were that he would fail. If this smiling asshole would just believe him-]
Last time I checked, deer were prey animals. In fact, there’s a whole week dedicated to how useless, weak, and stupid deer are; it gets gooood ratings.
[Almost as good as Shark Week.]
I’ve broken a lot of people to get where I am, and you’re just another number. [The highest number. The most important. Vox leaned down to get on his level.] I can’t wait to prove to you how wrong you are.
[The champagne would flow, something to get him good and drunk so he didn’t have to think about the hole left after.]
You’re tied up and at my mercy, the front seat to all my greatness. The rally is tomorrow, and you’ll see. They will all see.
[ His ears tilted back again at the mention of deer, but they perked back up quickly enough. He hated this form, he hated those ears and antlers that defined him as an animal. He hated that how hard it was to hide his emotions when he had a part of his body that tried to move on instinct even now. One would never know for how expressive he's been since arriving in Vee Tower, but he took great care to keep them straight up. He hated it, but he had never been prey. Alastor was a predatory in life, and he has been in death.
But he didn't entirely mind hearing that there was an entire week dedicated to deer. There's only man that would go through all the effort of setting that up, and it was the one who was completely and totally obsessed with him. Ever desperate for his attention.
But he watched as Vox averted his gaze, then returned it, and as he moved himself down to Alastor's level. That attitude was better. It was what Alastor wanted to see. It was defiant, determined, the look and voice of a person who would do anything to propel himself to the top.
He thought to press that point more. It would have been nothing if not easy to continue to mock him and remind him that all anyone will be seeing in the end is what a failure he is. The thought was there, but he had to break up the monotony of mockery and discouragement here and there. Vox was one more person who would smile and push through any setback in his way, someone who couldn't be completely broken, so there was no real concern, but it would get boring for both of them.
So instead he says, ]
If you keep leaning in so close, I'm going to start to think that you're interested in something else entirely.
[ He would let Vox fill in the blanks on that one, but his eyes did briefly trail down to his hips, right around where the man's waistband was with no intention of implying something whatsoever. ]
[There were a lot of things Vox expected from Alastor, a lot more that he outwardly hoped (pleading for his life? apologies for the past?), and then there was this. The thing that made his screen blank out in full static before changing to bunch of colored bars, then back to his face.
His deeply blushing face and giant eyes.]
Wha-
[He made a raspberry with his lips, blowing the air out quickly before he waved his hand.]
N-No! I’m not- no! Why would you think that?!
[He was protesting too much, too hard, too vehemently, and the cycle made his face darken even more. Fuck, he didn’t want- No. Alastor? Once, maybe. Back then. Not-not now?
Totally not now.
Nooooooo.
Uh uh. ]
You’re clearly projecting.
[There’s that spin that came naturally. Well, normally naturally; this time? Not so much.]
[ Alastor wouldn't think that. In fact, he wouldn't think it. There was a certain level of curiosity now, though, watching that series of reactions, and he did scoot his chair a little closer. Vox is sitting atop the desk now, and that means that Alastor is at the exact perfect height to mess with him. He scooted a little closer, and he tilted his head at just the right angle to work around Vox's shirt and take the hem of Vox's pants in his teeth, pulling it out and snapping it. It's not nearly as sexy with dress pants as it is with jeans, much less boxers, but those eyelids are lowered enough to be suggestive.
He would be polite enough to pull back directly after. He didn't quite push back, but instead leaned back in the chair and tilted his head up with that ever present toothy grin before he finally said - ]
I wouldn't. You alone are immune to my charms.
[ He uncrossed his legs so he could plant his feet firmly on the ground with his legs spread apart in what was a perfectly normal amount for a man, since he crossed them more as a learned habit, for no other reason than that it allowed him more stability as he leaned back, heels lifting just slightly before he pushed back down. ]
And I have no interest in you.
[ And to whether or not that was true, well... Who knew? It was impossible to tell from that toothy grin. ]
It didn’t really matter if he never breathed again; he would come back over and over until his body got in line. But for now, the entirety of breathing, of thinking, left him. Electrical sparks danced over the edges of his head and down into the points of the claws as they curled around the desk edge. He could feel his heartbeat slamming against the prison of his ribs.
What was happening?
This had to be a trick, something Alastor was going to laugh at and tease him over. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t anything other than a reason to keep that stupid smile there. Alastor was mocking him.
Right?]
Damn right I am.
[Which might have been more convincing if his voice hadn’t cracked when he said it. Was it from before or because of the way he was sitting now? It was rare to see him without his legs crossed, and for a second Vox looked between them, where they were open, before back up to Alastor’s eyes.
He had dreams that started suspiciously like this over the years, but this felt too real to be one of those.
Vox started to lean forward, as if he could close the distance and-
And I have no interest in you.
The old hurts tangled up in the bottom of his stomach, another humiliation ritual like so long before. Why? This was crueler than the slaughters over his radiowaves. Fingers tightened on the desk, cracking the wood as his silent wounds seeped inside his chest. That smiling fucking face-]
You say that, but you’re the one that just came onto me!
[What an asshole. What a rude asshole and it wasn’t fair that there was something in Vox aching for his validation, for his acknowledgement, for just one stupid kis-]
What makes you think I have an interest in you? [His shoes scuffed the floor in front of his desk.] Val makes sure that my bed isn’t exactly empty at night.
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♥
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
Just a family he was head of.Alastor couldn’t say the same about his lackeys.]
No, they kept yours away from interfering. Me beating you was all me.
[Give him credit where credit was due, right? He had done it, he wore the crown, he led the parade. Val and Velvette helped keep it private (and maaaaybe a stray bullet or six were pointed at Alastor), but it was his own laurels that he rested on. Don’t you forget that.
There was a leveled look at him.]
Is that a joke?
[Flat face? Television? Rude.
He shook his head before raising a hand and curling the fingers into a fist. Heaven wasn’t going to take him down, not with what he had planned, what little tools were starting to be built. It was his already; they just didn’t know it yet, but he was excited to show them.
He pushed away from the desk and walked to the other side, sitting on the edge next to Alastor’s chair. One hand reached out and patted him on the shoulder.]
Your princess won’t touch me; she would try to save me first, and we both know that isn’t happening. As for Heaven, I’ve got that covered. The army I’m building should have everyone up there pissing in their boots. And as I sit in whatever throne they have up there, I’m going to find a way to broadcast this to all seven rings.
no subject
The question was met with a shrug. He was above making jokes about Vox's head, it was too much of a cliche, but the turn of phrase really was made for Vox. His flat face would fall flat. He had been quite deliberate in saying it that way, and it really was a shame that Vox couldn't appreciate it.
The pat to the shoulder is accepted, and he looked up to Vox. ]
You see, that unearned confidence of yours is what will make it so satisfying to see your plan fall apart. There's nothing more satisfying than that moment when a person with an overinflated sense of confidence realizes they've lost everything. You should know the feeling well.
[ How satisfying it was, that is. The path to becoming an overlord was paved with blood and bodies and endless suffering, and there really was a special kind of satisfaction that came with being able to facilitate and witness it. ]
no subject
That…that was different. Completely different. If he was in command (his rightful place to be, mind you), then no one would be above him. No one could command him, subjugate him, could ridicule him.
Could hurt him
again.Vox spun him around again so he wouldn’t have to stare at how smug those eyes were, how sure they were that he would fail. If this smiling asshole would just believe him-]
Last time I checked, deer were prey animals. In fact, there’s a whole week dedicated to how useless, weak, and stupid deer are; it gets gooood ratings.
[Almost as good as Shark Week.]
I’ve broken a lot of people to get where I am, and you’re just another number. [The highest number. The most important. Vox leaned down to get on his level.] I can’t wait to prove to you how wrong you are.
[The champagne would flow, something to get him good and drunk so he didn’t have to think about the hole left after.]
You’re tied up and at my mercy, the front seat to all my greatness. The rally is tomorrow, and you’ll see. They will all see.
no subject
But he didn't entirely mind hearing that there was an entire week dedicated to deer. There's only man that would go through all the effort of setting that up, and it was the one who was completely and totally obsessed with him. Ever desperate for his attention.
But he watched as Vox averted his gaze, then returned it, and as he moved himself down to Alastor's level. That attitude was better. It was what Alastor wanted to see. It was defiant, determined, the look and voice of a person who would do anything to propel himself to the top.
He thought to press that point more. It would have been nothing if not easy to continue to mock him and remind him that all anyone will be seeing in the end is what a failure he is. The thought was there, but he had to break up the monotony of mockery and discouragement here and there. Vox was one more person who would smile and push through any setback in his way, someone who couldn't be completely broken, so there was no real concern, but it would get boring for both of them.
So instead he says, ]
If you keep leaning in so close, I'm going to start to think that you're interested in something else entirely.
[ He would let Vox fill in the blanks on that one, but his eyes did briefly trail down to his hips, right around where the man's waistband was with no intention of implying something whatsoever. ]
Hey, Al, look. You broke him.
His deeply blushing face and giant eyes.]
Wha-
[He made a raspberry with his lips, blowing the air out quickly before he waved his hand.]
N-No! I’m not- no! Why would you think that?!
[He was protesting too much, too hard, too vehemently, and the cycle made his face darken even more. Fuck, he didn’t want- No. Alastor? Once, maybe. Back then. Not-not now?
Totally not now.
Nooooooo.
Uh uh. ]
You’re clearly projecting.
[There’s that spin that came naturally. Well, normally naturally; this time? Not so much.]
But can I break him harder?
He would be polite enough to pull back directly after. He didn't quite push back, but instead leaned back in the chair and tilted his head up with that ever present toothy grin before he finally said - ]
I wouldn't. You alone are immune to my charms.
[ He uncrossed his legs so he could plant his feet firmly on the ground with his legs spread apart in what was a perfectly normal amount for a man, since he crossed them more as a learned habit, for no other reason than that it allowed him more stability as he leaned back, heels lifting just slightly before he pushed back down. ]
And I have no interest in you.
[ And to whether or not that was true, well... Who knew? It was impossible to tell from that toothy grin. ]
The answer is always "yes".
It didn’t really matter if he never breathed again; he would come back over and over until his body got in line. But for now, the entirety of breathing, of thinking, left him. Electrical sparks danced over the edges of his head and down into the points of the claws as they curled around the desk edge. He could feel his heartbeat slamming against the prison of his ribs.
What was happening?
This had to be a trick, something Alastor was going to laugh at and tease him over. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t anything other than a reason to keep that stupid smile there. Alastor was mocking him.
Right?]
Damn right I am.
[Which might have been more convincing if his voice hadn’t cracked when he said it. Was it from before or because of the way he was sitting now? It was rare to see him without his legs crossed, and for a second Vox looked between them, where they were open, before back up to Alastor’s eyes.
He had dreams that started suspiciously like this over the years, but this felt too real to be one of those.
Vox started to lean forward, as if he could close the distance and-
And I have no interest in you.
The old hurts tangled up in the bottom of his stomach, another humiliation ritual like so long before. Why? This was crueler than the slaughters over his radiowaves. Fingers tightened on the desk, cracking the wood as his silent wounds seeped inside his chest. That smiling fucking face-]
You say that, but you’re the one that just came onto me!
[What an asshole. What a rude asshole and it wasn’t fair that there was something in Vox aching for his validation, for his acknowledgement, for just one stupid kis-]
What makes you think I have an interest in you? [His shoes scuffed the floor in front of his desk.] Val makes sure that my bed isn’t exactly empty at night.
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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