[ His eyes flick down as Vox's hand touches his shoulder. It's a familiar gesture, or rather a mockery of one. It's too tight, and Alastor considers all the ways that hand could mutilate him with just the slightest movement. It would be just as easy for that cord to tighten and cut off his airway. He idly muses on which might come first.
It's the word useless that earns him a twitch. It stings more than he thought it might to have his worth denied so decisively, but in such a manner that he can't even easily argue. It promises that he did do everything, but never will again, and that is his greatest failure. This might be easier if Vox weren't the one person who did seem to realize how much water Alastor was carrying, or if he had simply dismissed Alastor out of pocket.
That is the problem. If only it weren't for the fear, for the lack of control, for that scratching at his brain, for being trapped, for being tied to a fucking chair, he might not mind what's being said now, because he understands that despite what's said, he would have God wrapped around his finger. It would be liberating. That's the real problem here. Alastor has been getting lazy.
Everything's eventual. ]
You are my problem.
[ Because no matter how long eternity spans... Alastor will watch over him. Radio and video. They'll always be intertwined, tangled up in clumsy strings, tied together in chairs with their backs against each other, but being strung up together like that was enough. It was a need and not a want.
There's not a single soul that could understand what that was like. ]
People will always beg for my help, they'll always look for my power, [ Just as Vox had before, just like that hotel had done before dismissing him as useless, ] But I need Charlie to be able to stand on her own two legs too. I won't be at that hotel forever.
[ And, in both a correction to himself and an acknowledgment of Vox's point, because he knows it'll be made anyway - ]
[Vox is fine with being Alastor's problem. That's the whole point. He intends to be Alastor's biggest, only problem. Nothing and no one else needs to matter. Radio will be crushed beneath video's heel for the rest of eternity, stuck in place, unable to focus on anything but that harsh pressure that's being applied. It's for that reason that Vox is ready to dismiss any other points being made.]
Al, honey... [The term of endearment slips out without second thought, and even its intent is muddled. Is it a mockery or is it genuine? The line's blurred so far, Vox doesn't know.] Why do you even give a shit? The hotel's done for.
[Vox's hand rubs along Alastor's shoulder for a few seconds, fingers stroking near the crook of his neck. Just another playful gesture of twisted affection that can't be hampered now, and also something to busy himself with as he speaks.]
There's no one left to run the place, 'cause the princess is never getting out of her little cell, and neither is her old man. Even if they were, there's no such thing as redemption in my version of the afterlife. If some idiot sinner does make it up to Heaven somehow, I'll boot 'em back down for their own sake. They can worship me from here just fine!
[ No matter how many times they have this conversation, the end result is always the same. No, not even that - every conversation with them ends in exactly the same way. No progress is made, because neither one of them is willing to concede even the slightest bit when it comes to those things that matter.
It's no different here. He doesn't care about the hotel. He doesn't care about redemption. He cares even less about Heaven. It's only by coincidence that his plans involve cleaning up after them. It's concern for himself that drives him. He can't deny that the hotel would be left rotting, too - even if Alastor could free himself, he would never step foot in that building again. Rather, Vox has the only parts of it that Alastor actually wants now. He's just arguing to argue, to avoid giving Vox even the slightest concession. And it is, too, to keep from having his own efforts undermined - any success it saw could be attributed to him.
Fingers run along his shoulder, and the sensation sends a shiver down his spine. Under different circumstances, it might be a pleasant sensation. He shifts the subject, a note of caution working its way into his voice, ]
And, what, do you plan to leave me tied to a chair for the rest of eternity too?
Edited (adding in one tiny detail that i forgot to before) 2026-02-03 02:28 (UTC)
[The way Vox sees it, the protest being sent his way is minimal. Pushback that's more of a weak nudge than an actual shove. That's how it should be. Vox is holding all the strings now, and more importantly, he's right. Maybe some day, Alastor will in turn admit that he was wrong. Give confirmation that Vox is better than him, and that it was dismissed all this time because Alastor is a petty, fragile bitch. That'd be the ideal outcome. It'd be so much sweeter than a simple apology.
For now, though... For now, there's those weak little attempts to stand his ground, and Vox will delight in knocking Alastor off balance over and over.]
Ooh, I don't know. Maybe I'll tie you to something else at some point. Or maybe I'll stick you in a big fancy terrarium so you can stretch your legs while I watch you through the glass. For display purposes only. Or maaaybe...
[His hand shoots upwards quite abruptly, palm coming to land on the side of Alastor's face so he can cup the man's cheek. His wrist is just inches away from sharp teeth and that only serves to heighten the thrill of it all.]
Maybe I'll let you roam free, if I think you've earned it. But you're gonna have to work real fucking hard to get that kinda trust from me.
[ He really has just been insufferable these last few days. No amount of misgivings and failure can keep his focus off that. His eyes narrow when Vox's hand moves up. If only the opportunity were there, he would take a chunk out of it. He wants to, but the terms of their deal ensure that he can only continue to remain compliable. The toothy grin, stretched upon his face in an unsettling curve, doesn't so much as twitch. ]
You can keep it. It would be worthless to me.
[ They both know that Alastor won't yield where it really matters. Vox could go another thousand years without seeing him budge. And in this case, there wouldn't be much point - the more that he gives, the more Vox will demand, and any give that he offered would be for that purpose alone. It's not worth it. ]
The only thing I plan on doing is what we agreed on. Nothing more, nothing less.
[Alastor gives a predictable answer, along with a predictable attitude to match. Vox has stopped expecting anything different by now. He pushes and he pulls, but he knows where it will go, at least for the next decade or so. At least. But more likely for another seventy years, or even seven hundred years. Doesn't matter. He has all the time in the universe and all the determination needed to keep pushing and pulling.]
Well then. Tying you to something else it is! Something more useless than a chair, so I'm not wasting any damned resources on you.
[A bold statement, considering Vox treats Alastor like a prized treasure. His most important belonging. Even now, his thumb shifts, lightly rubbing along Alastor's cheekbone. It's certainly far from the treatment given to a prisoner who's only taking up space.]
You're facing a reaaaal long eternity like this... Friend.
[ To look at him, the only hint that he's a prisoner is the cables wrapped around him, and even those are so messily organized and thin that it's practically decorative. It's kinder treatment than the majority would get period, because even their barbs are just part of it. Vox is cruel, and he is spiteful, and he doesn't forgive slights against him. He closes one eye as the man's thumb brushes along his cheek, at once wanting to bite his hand off and to lean into it. He settles for doing neither, instead rolling his eyes at the word friend. That's enough to earn a different sort of response. ]
Oh, don't start with that, you cheapskate. [ The condescending friend, or the waste of resources? The answer is "yes." ] You already gave me a bargain bin item.
[ It's petulant rather than upset, because they know each other too well for these things to be uncomfortable. It's the one thing that he had been right about, at least to a point. ]
[Vox can't help but laugh at that comeback. Really just throw his head forward and bark for a moment. His hand lands back down on Alastor's shoulder again, while at the same time, the cable starts slinking along his throat again as it retreats. It doesn't need to be there any longer; he had no intention of throttling Alastor to begin with.]
Wait, is that why you're complaining? Is the chair not comfy enough? [It's not why Alastor's complaining and he knows it, but he'll poke fun anyway.]
How about this? Once I get my throne, I'll chain you to it. I wanna saaay... Fifteen feet of walking freedom in any direction. Any time someone comes to get an audience with their god, you get to watch me in action. You know, since you won't have a fucking choice.
[ The mention of being chained is enough to agitate him. It touches on one sore spot and then another, because it occurs to him that there is more to be done after Vox has his fall from grace. There are debts to be repaid now, because his two souls were taken, and Alastor wants to collect on that with interest.
Vox really doesn't have any choice to succeed now. Alastor would let him live, but he won't so much as look at him again if he fails.
The thought leaves him agitated and dissatisfied. It kills any attempts to overcome that uneasy feeling. His ears remain pinned back. He pulls away without warning, having decided that he's done being touched now. ]
Hmm... No, I don't think so. Try again, but this time with something that isn't a soporiferous cliche.
[Alastor pulls away, and Vox lets him. He always does, no matter how hard he's trying to assert dominance. There's a lot of shit he'll do to Alastor, but there's some lines he refuses to cross. It wouldn't feel right if he did cross them, and if it doesn't feel good, why even do it? Things are fine the way they are now. Comfortable, familiar, infuriating and satisfying at the same time.
His hand withdraws and he stands up straight again, his fingers instead fluffing up the fur of his new cape. It feels a little similar to Val's fluff, and that alone helps to ground him. To keep him calm.]
Alright, just for argument's sake... Indulge me. You're the one who oh-so-willingly offered to be my prisoner, so how do you picture this playing out from here?
[ For a time, he just watches the other as he considers further He has to amend his previous thought. If he could take as much as had been taken to him, he could be satisfied with that. But doesn't that amount to the same thing? Fair is fair, but it won't be seen that way.
There's no shortage of scenarios that he could come up with, but with the above he realizes that he simply doesn't care how it happens, because in either case they both lose. Alastor can do nothing but cut his losses, and Vox can gain nothing but an eternity of them torturing each other. Then again, maybe that would be enough for him. ]
From here? Well, I'll seduce you and then kill you while you're distracted by my charms. That always works.
[ Vox is going to treat any answer he gives as ridiculous no matter what, just like Alastor will insist that he's going to fuck up no matter what, so he might as well offer something that is. ]
[Vox was expecting a variety of answers, and yes, most would've been ridiculous. Or downright insulting, or even both. What actually comes out into the open catches him off guard. Not the 'killing him' bit, because that's par for the course, but the seduction bit. It causes his eyes to widen for a second, before amusement overtakes him.]
You'll seduce me? You will? [He snorts and chortles, pressing a hand against his chest as he tries to stop any further laughter.] I'd like to see you try!
[And he means that. It's a challenge. Just because he's attracted to Alastor doesn't mean he can picture the man putting that kind of charm to good use. He'd love to experience that first hand.]
[ never cry about al not wanting to fuck you again asshole
Vox is getting the most judgmental look that anyone has ever given. It would be one thing to just insult him, it's not as though he was being serious, but if that's a real challenge... There's just a limit to how shameless a person can be. ]
Hm. No, the thought of doing anything to you makes me want to throw up. In fact, just saying that made the bile rise.
[ That's only half-true, but the staunch rejection is enough to kill any hint of interest that might have still been lurking beneath the surface. This is a man who's mere presence would be more effective than any cold shower. In fact, he immediately decides that they're too close and slides himself a good several feet away. ]
[And there it is; the exact reason why Vox was skeptical about the seducing to begin with. It's just not Alastor's style, so it must've been a bluff to begin with. He is disappointed that there wasn't even an attempt, though. He would've liked to see it.]
Hah, I know you can't kill me. That wasn't what I was calling you out on.
[There's a lot that he would love to do right now, but Alastor slid the chair away from him, and he decides to allow that distance. So instead, he walks over to his desk to sit down on top of it, legs spread out lightly and feet dangling a few inches above the ground.]
You don't have a single flirtatious bone in your body, do you? It's such a waste... Some seductive charm might suit you better than that hollow fucking grin.
[ Vox is successful both in digging those barbs in deeper and making Alastor regret saying anything. He should have known. He was every bit as eager to prove he could seduce any man as Valentino, but unlike the latter he had no place doing so. He was probably one of those people that thought blowing smoke in someone's face was foreplay. To say nothing of the rest, which... Well, that unsolicited and unwanted advice proved his point. ]
Oh, what do you know about any of that? You're as charming as a rusty nail, completely clueless, and perpetually irritating.
[ Every braincell that he has is telling him not to take the bait encourage this line of conversation any further, especially since he's getting away from the greater point of that it was the killing part that he was interested in, but no. He's not going to give Vox a chance a response before irritably adding- ]
And I have enough class that my seductive charm doesn't involve announcing to a person that I plan to do so.
[ Or seducing his captor to satisfy some ulterior motive or anything equally pitiable, much less to stroke the ego of a guy who couldn't seduce a nymphomaniac, barring the one who will jump absolutely anyone and everyone if given the chance. But Alastor has standards, thank you very much. ]
[Vox's teeth bare further, lips twisting into an even greater grin. Vox is plenty charming, and he has the followers to prove it. He's had those followers for most of his existence, before and after death. Alastor's just salty because Vox stopped using that charm on him. But hey, if the radio demon wanted an enemy instead of a partner or a friend, an enemy was what he would get.]
Suuure, Al. Keep telling yourself that. I'll believe it when I see it.
[He leans forward somewhat, legs spreading further as a result of the change in weight distribution. His hands fold together at the length of his knees and his gaze remains stuck on Alastor, unblinking.]
But your little crack didn't answer the question of where you see this going, sooo... Yeah. You're stuck in the fucking chair until further notice.
The former remark earns both a very deliberate and exaggerated roll of the eyes and long suffering sigh because Vox is really doing this. The man never ceases to amaze. But in the end, it was his own fault for thinking that the man wouldn't see this as an opportunity to embarrass him.
And of course he just has to say that in the most questionable way possible. ]
Careful now, or I'll start to think that you're just desperate for my attention.
[ Which, on that note, he's going to spin around so he's no longer facing Vox. ]
[The spin of the chair feels final, somehow. Vox could still whirl it right back around with the use of his cables- he wouldn't even need to get up to do it, but he has to wonder what the point would be. Alastor will keep being petulant. And he hears the way those last few words were said. It really twists up something in his chest.
He would go find Val, but the man's working. And he's still being weirdly unenthusiastic about the victory, too. Vox doesn't know what's up with that. They won. Val should be delighted.
Well, whatever.]
Awww... You wanna sulk by yourself like a total loser some more? Sure, sure. [He hops down from the desk, landing perfectly on both feet. His hands brush over his shoulders as if sweeping dust from them, the fur near his neck ruffling from the movement.]
You want me to bring you something later? We've still got some of the celebration cake left. You know, 'cause it was just that fucking huge. Like twenty strippers jumped outta that thing. It was great.
it's how he won but his three most important people are all just pissed at him lmao
[ He does, in fact, want to sulk by himself, because he's tired of dealing with the man. He's sick of Vox. It had been one thing when it was just them. Alastor could handle the humiliation, the disrespect, the mockery and arguments and abuse. He could even handle this suffocating panic and frustration with his own lack of options, because as long as he kept thinking, he would find a solution. But targeting the two souls in his case had been different. He'd always considered that they could broken, and he hadn't worried - but this wasn't that. This was violent, like a chunk had been torn out of his very soul. It makes every little irritation seem like so much more, and Vox slighted him when he was starting to shift his thoughts away from that.
He really has been much pissier these last several days, offered less banter and dismissed him more, and he's grateful for this conversation coming to a close. ]
You've done what you came here to do. Now go.
[ He ignores the question entirely, both to avoid engaging and because there isn't anything. The only thing he wants is a cigarette, and he keeps those on him. The only thing Vox wants to do is mock him, and he doesn't need Alastor's input for that. ]
Find someone who cares.
[ About his accomplishments, that is. It shouldn't be too hard. He has all of Hell. ]
[The bait's not taken. Alastor's shutting it all down. That's... disappointing. Vox much prefers continued bickering over the cold shoulder. It's engagement versus being shut out, and it is real fucking unpleasant outside. So his grin falters, fading away into nothing. There's no more fun to be had here. In fact, there's nothing at all to be had.
He'll give Alastor some more time to mope. Tomorrow, when he ascends those stairs to Heaven and takes his throne, everyone will see him differently. Everyone will grovel, revere, pray, adore and do all those other things they should've been doing for decades already. Alastor will see just how wrong he was then.]
So that's a no on the cake. Got it. Have fun trying to rain on the parade, then. You'll be missing it by a few miles, but at least you can say you made an attempt.
[With that out of the way, he starts making his way back towards the door.]
he deserves velvette the least, hope she told him to piss off (affectionate)
[ He skids one foot back, grinding the tip of his shoe against the floor. Vox doesn't want to be shut out, but everything he does only serves to make Alastor want to push him further away. He wants to be away from Vox, and he wants anything but to have nothing but his own thoughts to sit with. The former is overriding the latter now, but there is nonetheless enough of it for him to add with some trepidation, ]
If you want to bring me something, then get me a pack of cigarettes. Marlboro, or if that's not an option, parliament will do.
[ Despite it being the second option, the latter is far more expensive than the latter, but it is fitting enough. It was a luxury item in the thirties and the fifties both, the one most favored by elites of their time.
Alastor isn't expecting anything to come of the request. But it's a way of taking him up on that offer, and in turn a subtle way of allowing him to come back later. And if he doesn't, he doesn't. ]
[He pauses in his steps, looking back towards Alastor. Is it a victory that he's asking for something after all? Or is this just Alastor taking advantage of Vox's need to keep some kind of interaction going? He could be a real dick here and say no, or get Alastor the worst brand possible instead. Smoke the Marlboro himself, right in front of the radio demon, and give him nothing.
But then, he could just as well flaunt his supposed benevolence and mercy. Show off just how great he is by giving Alastor this trivial little thing like it's nothing. Maybe have it depend on what the mood is like when he returns here later. He can always fetch the cigarettes anyway, it's not like he doesn't already have a stash in his bedroom.
Yeah. That's what he'll do.]
Ooh la la. Still a man of more refined taste, huh? Sure. I'll see what I can do.
[It's so easy for him to run up and get them, but he'll make a big show of the gesture anyway. Once he leaves, he'll be gone for a good hour. Have fun with that silence, Alastor. At least Shok.wav's still swimming around in his tank nearby.]
[ It's a dig at him, but they both worked in the same industry, they both dealt with the same types of people. There should be wine and champagne too, but no amount of time made either truly palatable for him. Vox's taste seemed to run closer to his own than most in that group.
He slumps back after Vox leaves, wondering if it was the right choice. He didn't need to ask for anything, but it was the only way to keep the door cracked open without wounding someone's pride. They both needed to be able to save face, and some small concession was the only way about it.
Maybe it's better that Vox takes his time, too. Everything about his person has felt increasing off, and it takes a concerted effort to put it back in order. He spends a good fifteen minutes to find the right frequency and fix his own signal, which is far longer than he can recall ever needing to. He's not sure if it's his own tangled emotions, or if it's the sheer volume of technology here that's throwing him off, but at least by the time Vox returns one problem will have been solved.
The silence is deafening. All he can do is wait, staring at the tank in the room blankly, listening to the bubbling of water and the occasional creak of his chair as he shifted, ears occasionally twitching as he picks up on some other sound. ]
[Vox takes his time with returning to the office, but not because he has other things to do. Quite the opposite, in fact. Val and Vel are both being avoidant to the point where he doesn't know where they are in Vee Tower- If they even are in Vee Tower- and he refuses to search for them like pathetic loser. He doesn't need their company. He's above that, he's about to be a god. Once he's gotten the cigarettes, he spends some time pestering Ethan about the preparations, scolds a few other VoxTek employees for slacking and watches the sharks in one of the aquarium tunnels.
Finally, after more than an hour, he steps into the office again, posture relaxed and wide grin on his face.]
Ooh, what, you're still here?
[And he laughs. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Just a little joke. He's so funny and great, and it's annoying that his partners aren't here to share in the celebrations. His hand reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the carton of Marlboros, holding it up for Alastor to see. Even gives it a little shake, so the cigarettes can be heard rattling around inside it.]
[ The sound of his voice is grating, and Alastor immediately regrets inviting him back. His ears lay back the moment that he starts laughing. He shoots him a glare, his ears twitching and eyes flicking briefly to the carton when it's shaken, and it's only by practicing the utmost self-restraint that he manages to keep himself from saying anything anything inciting. ]
And here I was starting to think that you weren't coming back.
[ That's only half-true. It was always just a matter of when. ]
Good boy. Now, come here and I'll pat your head.
[ It's up for grabs whether he's treating him like a small child that had been sent on an errand or a dog that had been told to fetch. Both tended to be given the same manner of praise. ]
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no subject
It's the word useless that earns him a twitch. It stings more than he thought it might to have his worth denied so decisively, but in such a manner that he can't even easily argue. It promises that he did do everything, but never will again, and that is his greatest failure. This might be easier if Vox weren't the one person who did seem to realize how much water Alastor was carrying, or if he had simply dismissed Alastor out of pocket.
That is the problem. If only it weren't for the fear, for the lack of control, for that scratching at his brain, for being trapped, for being tied to a fucking chair, he might not mind what's being said now, because he understands that despite what's said, he would have God wrapped around his finger. It would be liberating. That's the real problem here. Alastor has been getting lazy.
Everything's eventual. ]
You are my problem.
[ Because no matter how long eternity spans... Alastor will watch over him. Radio and video. They'll always be intertwined, tangled up in clumsy strings, tied together in chairs with their backs against each other, but being strung up together like that was enough. It was a need and not a want.
There's not a single soul that could understand what that was like. ]
People will always beg for my help, they'll always look for my power, [ Just as Vox had before, just like that hotel had done before dismissing him as useless, ] But I need Charlie to be able to stand on her own two legs too. I won't be at that hotel forever.
[ And, in both a correction to himself and an acknowledgment of Vox's point, because he knows it'll be made anyway - ]
I'm not anymore.
no subject
Al, honey... [The term of endearment slips out without second thought, and even its intent is muddled. Is it a mockery or is it genuine? The line's blurred so far, Vox doesn't know.] Why do you even give a shit? The hotel's done for.
[Vox's hand rubs along Alastor's shoulder for a few seconds, fingers stroking near the crook of his neck. Just another playful gesture of twisted affection that can't be hampered now, and also something to busy himself with as he speaks.]
There's no one left to run the place, 'cause the princess is never getting out of her little cell, and neither is her old man. Even if they were, there's no such thing as redemption in my version of the afterlife. If some idiot sinner does make it up to Heaven somehow, I'll boot 'em back down for their own sake. They can worship me from here just fine!
no subject
It's no different here. He doesn't care about the hotel. He doesn't care about redemption. He cares even less about Heaven. It's only by coincidence that his plans involve cleaning up after them. It's concern for himself that drives him. He can't deny that the hotel would be left rotting, too - even if Alastor could free himself, he would never step foot in that building again. Rather, Vox has the only parts of it that Alastor actually wants now. He's just arguing to argue, to avoid giving Vox even the slightest concession. And it is, too, to keep from having his own efforts undermined - any success it saw could be attributed to him.
Fingers run along his shoulder, and the sensation sends a shiver down his spine. Under different circumstances, it might be a pleasant sensation. He shifts the subject, a note of caution working its way into his voice, ]
And, what, do you plan to leave me tied to a chair for the rest of eternity too?
no subject
For now, though... For now, there's those weak little attempts to stand his ground, and Vox will delight in knocking Alastor off balance over and over.]
Ooh, I don't know. Maybe I'll tie you to something else at some point. Or maybe I'll stick you in a big fancy terrarium so you can stretch your legs while I watch you through the glass. For display purposes only. Or maaaybe...
[His hand shoots upwards quite abruptly, palm coming to land on the side of Alastor's face so he can cup the man's cheek. His wrist is just inches away from sharp teeth and that only serves to heighten the thrill of it all.]
Maybe I'll let you roam free, if I think you've earned it. But you're gonna have to work real fucking hard to get that kinda trust from me.
no subject
You can keep it. It would be worthless to me.
[ They both know that Alastor won't yield where it really matters. Vox could go another thousand years without seeing him budge. And in this case, there wouldn't be much point - the more that he gives, the more Vox will demand, and any give that he offered would be for that purpose alone. It's not worth it. ]
The only thing I plan on doing is what we agreed on. Nothing more, nothing less.
no subject
Well then. Tying you to something else it is! Something more useless than a chair, so I'm not wasting any damned resources on you.
[A bold statement, considering Vox treats Alastor like a prized treasure. His most important belonging. Even now, his thumb shifts, lightly rubbing along Alastor's cheekbone. It's certainly far from the treatment given to a prisoner who's only taking up space.]
You're facing a reaaaal long eternity like this... Friend.
no subject
Oh, don't start with that, you cheapskate. [ The condescending friend, or the waste of resources? The answer is "yes." ] You already gave me a bargain bin item.
[ It's petulant rather than upset, because they know each other too well for these things to be uncomfortable. It's the one thing that he had been right about, at least to a point. ]
no subject
Wait, is that why you're complaining? Is the chair not comfy enough? [It's not why Alastor's complaining and he knows it, but he'll poke fun anyway.]
How about this? Once I get my throne, I'll chain you to it. I wanna saaay... Fifteen feet of walking freedom in any direction. Any time someone comes to get an audience with their god, you get to watch me in action. You know, since you won't have a fucking choice.
no subject
Vox really doesn't have any choice to succeed now. Alastor would let him live, but he won't so much as look at him again if he fails.
The thought leaves him agitated and dissatisfied. It kills any attempts to overcome that uneasy feeling. His ears remain pinned back. He pulls away without warning, having decided that he's done being touched now. ]
Hmm... No, I don't think so. Try again, but this time with something that isn't a soporiferous cliche.
no subject
His hand withdraws and he stands up straight again, his fingers instead fluffing up the fur of his new cape. It feels a little similar to Val's fluff, and that alone helps to ground him. To keep him calm.]
Alright, just for argument's sake... Indulge me. You're the one who oh-so-willingly offered to be my prisoner, so how do you picture this playing out from here?
no subject
There's no shortage of scenarios that he could come up with, but with the above he realizes that he simply doesn't care how it happens, because in either case they both lose. Alastor can do nothing but cut his losses, and Vox can gain nothing but an eternity of them torturing each other. Then again, maybe that would be enough for him. ]
From here? Well, I'll seduce you and then kill you while you're distracted by my charms. That always works.
[ Vox is going to treat any answer he gives as ridiculous no matter what, just like Alastor will insist that he's going to fuck up no matter what, so he might as well offer something that is. ]
no subject
You'll seduce me? You will? [He snorts and chortles, pressing a hand against his chest as he tries to stop any further laughter.] I'd like to see you try!
[And he means that. It's a challenge. Just because he's attracted to Alastor doesn't mean he can picture the man putting that kind of charm to good use. He'd love to experience that first hand.]
no subject
Vox is getting the most judgmental look that anyone has ever given. It would be one thing to just insult him, it's not as though he was being serious, but if that's a real challenge... There's just a limit to how shameless a person can be. ]
Hm. No, the thought of doing anything to you makes me want to throw up. In fact, just saying that made the bile rise.
[ That's only half-true, but the staunch rejection is enough to kill any hint of interest that might have still been lurking beneath the surface. This is a man who's mere presence would be more effective than any cold shower. In fact, he immediately decides that they're too close and slides himself a good several feet away. ]
And I can't kill you anyway, you moron.
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Hah, I know you can't kill me. That wasn't what I was calling you out on.
[There's a lot that he would love to do right now, but Alastor slid the chair away from him, and he decides to allow that distance. So instead, he walks over to his desk to sit down on top of it, legs spread out lightly and feet dangling a few inches above the ground.]
You don't have a single flirtatious bone in your body, do you? It's such a waste... Some seductive charm might suit you better than that hollow fucking grin.
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Oh, what do you know about any of that? You're as charming as a rusty nail, completely clueless, and perpetually irritating.
[ Every braincell that he has is telling him not to take the bait encourage this line of conversation any further, especially since he's getting away from the greater point of that it was the killing part that he was interested in, but no. He's not going to give Vox a chance a response before irritably adding- ]
And I have enough class that my seductive charm doesn't involve announcing to a person that I plan to do so.
[ Or seducing his captor to satisfy some ulterior motive or anything equally pitiable, much less to stroke the ego of a guy who couldn't seduce a nymphomaniac, barring the one who will jump absolutely anyone and everyone if given the chance. But Alastor has standards, thank you very much. ]
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Suuure, Al. Keep telling yourself that. I'll believe it when I see it.
[He leans forward somewhat, legs spreading further as a result of the change in weight distribution. His hands fold together at the length of his knees and his gaze remains stuck on Alastor, unblinking.]
But your little crack didn't answer the question of where you see this going, sooo... Yeah. You're stuck in the fucking chair until further notice.
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The former remark earns both a very deliberate and exaggerated roll of the eyes and long suffering sigh because Vox is really doing this. The man never ceases to amaze. But in the end, it was his own fault for thinking that the man wouldn't see this as an opportunity to embarrass him.
And of course he just has to say that in the most questionable way possible. ]
Careful now, or I'll start to think that you're just desperate for my attention.
[ Which, on that note, he's going to spin around so he's no longer facing Vox. ]
Go find your partner "in business."
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He would go find Val, but the man's working. And he's still being weirdly unenthusiastic about the victory, too. Vox doesn't know what's up with that. They won. Val should be delighted.
Well, whatever.]
Awww... You wanna sulk by yourself like a total loser some more? Sure, sure. [He hops down from the desk, landing perfectly on both feet. His hands brush over his shoulders as if sweeping dust from them, the fur near his neck ruffling from the movement.]
You want me to bring you something later? We've still got some of the celebration cake left. You know, 'cause it was just that fucking huge. Like twenty strippers jumped outta that thing. It was great.
it's how he won but his three most important people are all just pissed at him lmao
He really has been much pissier these last several days, offered less banter and dismissed him more, and he's grateful for this conversation coming to a close. ]
You've done what you came here to do. Now go.
[ He ignores the question entirely, both to avoid engaging and because there isn't anything. The only thing he wants is a cigarette, and he keeps those on him. The only thing Vox wants to do is mock him, and he doesn't need Alastor's input for that. ]
Find someone who cares.
[ About his accomplishments, that is. It shouldn't be too hard. He has all of Hell. ]
maybe Velvette still cares??? (she does not)
He'll give Alastor some more time to mope. Tomorrow, when he ascends those stairs to Heaven and takes his throne, everyone will see him differently. Everyone will grovel, revere, pray, adore and do all those other things they should've been doing for decades already. Alastor will see just how wrong he was then.]
So that's a no on the cake. Got it. Have fun trying to rain on the parade, then. You'll be missing it by a few miles, but at least you can say you made an attempt.
[With that out of the way, he starts making his way back towards the door.]
he deserves velvette the least, hope she told him to piss off (affectionate)
If you want to bring me something, then get me a pack of cigarettes. Marlboro, or if that's not an option, parliament will do.
[ Despite it being the second option, the latter is far more expensive than the latter, but it is fitting enough. It was a luxury item in the thirties and the fifties both, the one most favored by elites of their time.
Alastor isn't expecting anything to come of the request. But it's a way of taking him up on that offer, and in turn a subtle way of allowing him to come back later. And if he doesn't, he doesn't. ]
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But then, he could just as well flaunt his supposed benevolence and mercy. Show off just how great he is by giving Alastor this trivial little thing like it's nothing. Maybe have it depend on what the mood is like when he returns here later. He can always fetch the cigarettes anyway, it's not like he doesn't already have a stash in his bedroom.
Yeah. That's what he'll do.]
Ooh la la. Still a man of more refined taste, huh? Sure. I'll see what I can do.
[It's so easy for him to run up and get them, but he'll make a big show of the gesture anyway. Once he leaves, he'll be gone for a good hour. Have fun with that silence, Alastor. At least Shok.wav's still swimming around in his tank nearby.]
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He slumps back after Vox leaves, wondering if it was the right choice. He didn't need to ask for anything, but it was the only way to keep the door cracked open without wounding someone's pride. They both needed to be able to save face, and some small concession was the only way about it.
Maybe it's better that Vox takes his time, too. Everything about his person has felt increasing off, and it takes a concerted effort to put it back in order. He spends a good fifteen minutes to find the right frequency and fix his own signal, which is far longer than he can recall ever needing to. He's not sure if it's his own tangled emotions, or if it's the sheer volume of technology here that's throwing him off, but at least by the time Vox returns one problem will have been solved.
The silence is deafening. All he can do is wait, staring at the tank in the room blankly, listening to the bubbling of water and the occasional creak of his chair as he shifted, ears occasionally twitching as he picks up on some other sound. ]
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Finally, after more than an hour, he steps into the office again, posture relaxed and wide grin on his face.]
Ooh, what, you're still here?
[And he laughs. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Just a little joke. He's so funny and great, and it's annoying that his partners aren't here to share in the celebrations. His hand reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the carton of Marlboros, holding it up for Alastor to see. Even gives it a little shake, so the cigarettes can be heard rattling around inside it.]
Here, I got some treats for you.
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And here I was starting to think that you weren't coming back.
[ That's only half-true. It was always just a matter of when. ]
Good boy. Now, come here and I'll pat your head.
[ It's up for grabs whether he's treating him like a small child that had been sent on an errand or a dog that had been told to fetch. Both tended to be given the same manner of praise. ]
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CW: suicide ideation of sorts
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