[ 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. ]
[Just as Vox expected: an attitude problem. He'll give a problem right back, in that case. Smack that ball right back to Alastor's side of the court. Instead of stepping over to the radio demon, he moves to his desk, leaning himself back against it as he flips the carton open.]
I'm the best, actually. And I don't need you to tell me that.
[Two fingers reach into the packet to take out a cigarette, bringing it to his mouth. With that, the carton is shut again and set to the side. Lighting the thing is easy, it takes a literal snap of the fingers. With a content smile, he takes a deeeeep drag, the smoke seeming to fill his very being. He's not looking Alastor's way.]
[ There's nothing surprising about what follows, because civility has never suited them well. The withdrawal he's experiencing is unpleasant, but he's in such a state where he can't tell one pain and discomfort from another. And while there's no shortage of things he'd like to do with that the best comment, he remains impassive. He's too tired to keep arguing about nothing. ]
Did you have a reason for coming back that isn't acting like a child in need of attention?
[ Vox isn't looking his way, so he turns away from him in turn, crossing one leg over the other after doing so. ]
If not, hurry up and find one.
[ At least it doesn't seem like he's going to try to kick Vox out again? ]
[Ooh, seems like he's gotten to Alastor. He hopes so, anyway. Either way, Vox is flexing and there's not a damn thing Alastor can do about it. A few pointless sputterings in the vein of childish remarks are being sent his way, and that's all. It's enough to sate him. Enough to feel like he's made his point. He takes one more drag from his cigarette, then picks up the packet again with one of his cables. Normally, he'd throw it into Alastor's lap, but the radio demon turned himself around so this is the next best option. The entire carton, with about seven cigarettes left, is dropped onto Alastor's lap from above.]
Here. Keep it.
[And sure, Alastor's still restrained, but there's no need for pretense here. Alastor's free to use his shadowy tendrils to aid himself with little tasks; there were never any rules that prevented him from doing such a thing. It's not like he can use them to escape or harm Vox, so who cares?]
[ The cigarette pack is dropped in his lap, and Alastor does look down to it. He wiggles in his seat, dislodging his hands from behind him. It's all just performative anyway, with him having pulled his bindings apart and letting them being redone several times before, and he digs through his pocket for his pocket lighter and ashtray. It wouldn't do to be messing up the floors.
He leans back in the seat as he does so, tilting his head back, that toothy grin widening. ]
You know, I thought you would pass it to me.
[ The cigarette, that is. It was sometimes a habit for people who couldn't finish a full cigarette - inefficient, but also those who for some reason couldn't afford a full one for whatever reason. Neither are applicable here, since they can afford them and will just wind up with a second, and so it doesn't really matter. But there was a sort of bonding experience that came with it.
Too bad. ]
But, this works just as well. It's better than I had expected, in fact.
[Aaaahhh fuck, passing the cigarette was a thing he could've done. That would've been funnier, actually. Fuck. It's too late now though, so Vox is just going to have to pretend he made a purposeful choice not to do that.]
What, leeching off my supply's not enough for you? You thought I'd let you take the smokes straight from my mouth? That's reeeeal fucking pitiful, Al.
[He pushes himself away from the desk, striding over to Alastor's side. One more drag from his cigarette, then he leans forward to tap some of the ashes into the tray that was just procured. It's a gentle little motion. Almost discreet. Something that's at odds with the mean smirk on Vox's face, and the way smoke drifts out from between his sharp teeth.]
I take good care of my belongings. Letting you have a tiny stash is the least I can do.
[ He leans his chair forward once more. He hadn't expected Vox to agree now, but that was fine. It was a subtle willingness to engage, because he'd already pulled him back into the room now, and there wasn't much sense in immediately chasing him out again.
His ears lie flatter upon hearing the word belongings, his shoulders subtly lifting, and whatever retort he might have given is lost. He opens the carton now, plucking a cigarette from it but not lifting it, instead rolling it between his fingers. ]
I agreed to be your captive, not a part of your personal collection.
[ He grumbles, but it's half-hearted and sullen, because he's full aware of the situation that he's put himself into. Vox might not own him in the literal sense that his benefactor did, but their deal wasn't all that different. He couldn't force Alastor to do anything, but he could do anything else. He'd traded being a dog to be barked orders at for being a doll to be played with, put on display, and broken at someone's leisure.
He really has been insufferable these last several days. ]
[Vox hears the criticism in the practical sense, but doesn't actually pay it any mind. The way he sees it, it's the same thing. Lifelong imprisonment of this nature means Alastor has become Vox's responsibility. Whether the man is treated well or treated badly, that's all under Vox's control. It's already very personal, so why not be part of a collection? Trophies are always well taken care of, so long as they're a source of pride.
He keeps lingering by Alastor's side, even if he's not directly looking the man's way. Instead, he's giving off an air of nonchalance, staring towards Shok.wav's tank. The shark isn't near the office right now; probably off in some other portion of the building that his tank connects to. Still, the sight of the water is somehow calming.]
I don't know what you're complaining about. Captives usually don't get access to these kinds of perks. They need some outsider to smuggle in cigarettes through... Well, you know. [He doesn't spell it out, if only because he doesn't want the taste of his own smoke to be tainted by the mental image.]
You've got it made here. Maybe show some fucking gratitude for once.
[ The smell of smoke is heavy in the air, and Alastor keeps the cigarette pinched between his fingers. The smell of smoke is heavy in the air, and it is quite tempting, but in the end that need to avoid consumption around others wins out over addiction. There was no reason that he should feel vulnerable doing it, much less uneasy, but it was impossible for him to shake.]
Keep the jokes to your outfit.
[ The only thing he has to be grateful for is the assurance that this should be a temporary affair. That's something he has to keep reminding himself of. He knows the way out of this deal, and he's sure he can think of some way to accomplish his goal. He always has.
He knows that Vox is treating him better than he would anyone else. Vox is treating him better than anyone else would he had conflict with would, for that matter, but that doesn't make it any less insulting.
He gives up on the idea of smoking for the moment. He tucks the cigarette back in the box, then lets his hand drop back down to the seat. And as for the real reason that Vox was so eager to come back with this magnanimous display... ]
[The jab at Vox's outfit just makes him laugh. Not because the remark itself was amusing, but because of what it conveyed. Alastor is irritated, helpless and lashing out in petty ways. That's just funny. Vox is winning, Alastor is losing, there's nothing to be done about it. It's like watching the Radio Demon try to climb up a mountain, only to slip and fall back down every single time.
He takes another drag from his cigarette, smirk widening into something more hollow and performative when the question is posed. Then he turns to face Alastor again, staring down at the man.]
Wow, talk about wild assumptions. No one's avoiding anyone. Everyone's busy. Prepping for the ascent to Heaven's turned this place into a madhouse.
[That's what Vox is insisting even to himself. The alternative is unbearable, after all. Not to mention infuriating.]
Oh, please. I know what I've seen, and I know what I've heard.
[ Alastor scoffs. He looks up to Vox, his eyes briefly narrowing. The rest might be nothing more than his own petty complaints, but on this there was simply no sense in offering calculated responses. He doesn't need to decide when to hold and when to fold, because there's no stopping what comes next. ]
And I know you. If it were an option, you would have taken my advice the first time instead of crawling back in here.
[ Well, he wouldn't have come back so soon, anyway. If he did come back, it would've been with someone, but more likely he would've heard about it later - look at what he was doing while Alastor was sitting here all alone like a loser, blah blah blah. The Radio Demon is both his first choice and his last resort. It's tragically mutual, because the Media Overlord is his only choice. ]
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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. ]
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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.]
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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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I'm the best, actually. And I don't need you to tell me that.
[Two fingers reach into the packet to take out a cigarette, bringing it to his mouth. With that, the carton is shut again and set to the side. Lighting the thing is easy, it takes a literal snap of the fingers. With a content smile, he takes a deeeeep drag, the smoke seeming to fill his very being. He's not looking Alastor's way.]
Mmmmhh, that's good. I needed that.
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Did you have a reason for coming back that isn't acting like a child in need of attention?
[ Vox isn't looking his way, so he turns away from him in turn, crossing one leg over the other after doing so. ]
If not, hurry up and find one.
[ At least it doesn't seem like he's going to try to kick Vox out again? ]
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Here. Keep it.
[And sure, Alastor's still restrained, but there's no need for pretense here. Alastor's free to use his shadowy tendrils to aid himself with little tasks; there were never any rules that prevented him from doing such a thing. It's not like he can use them to escape or harm Vox, so who cares?]
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He leans back in the seat as he does so, tilting his head back, that toothy grin widening. ]
You know, I thought you would pass it to me.
[ The cigarette, that is. It was sometimes a habit for people who couldn't finish a full cigarette - inefficient, but also those who for some reason couldn't afford a full one for whatever reason. Neither are applicable here, since they can afford them and will just wind up with a second, and so it doesn't really matter. But there was a sort of bonding experience that came with it.
Too bad. ]
But, this works just as well. It's better than I had expected, in fact.
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What, leeching off my supply's not enough for you? You thought I'd let you take the smokes straight from my mouth? That's reeeeal fucking pitiful, Al.
[He pushes himself away from the desk, striding over to Alastor's side. One more drag from his cigarette, then he leans forward to tap some of the ashes into the tray that was just procured. It's a gentle little motion. Almost discreet. Something that's at odds with the mean smirk on Vox's face, and the way smoke drifts out from between his sharp teeth.]
I take good care of my belongings. Letting you have a tiny stash is the least I can do.
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His ears lie flatter upon hearing the word belongings, his shoulders subtly lifting, and whatever retort he might have given is lost. He opens the carton now, plucking a cigarette from it but not lifting it, instead rolling it between his fingers. ]
I agreed to be your captive, not a part of your personal collection.
[ He grumbles, but it's half-hearted and sullen, because he's full aware of the situation that he's put himself into. Vox might not own him in the literal sense that his benefactor did, but their deal wasn't all that different. He couldn't force Alastor to do anything, but he could do anything else. He'd traded being a dog to be barked orders at for being a doll to be played with, put on display, and broken at someone's leisure.
He really has been insufferable these last several days. ]
Get it right.
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He keeps lingering by Alastor's side, even if he's not directly looking the man's way. Instead, he's giving off an air of nonchalance, staring towards Shok.wav's tank. The shark isn't near the office right now; probably off in some other portion of the building that his tank connects to. Still, the sight of the water is somehow calming.]
I don't know what you're complaining about. Captives usually don't get access to these kinds of perks. They need some outsider to smuggle in cigarettes through... Well, you know. [He doesn't spell it out, if only because he doesn't want the taste of his own smoke to be tainted by the mental image.]
You've got it made here. Maybe show some fucking gratitude for once.
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Keep the jokes to your outfit.
[ The only thing he has to be grateful for is the assurance that this should be a temporary affair. That's something he has to keep reminding himself of. He knows the way out of this deal, and he's sure he can think of some way to accomplish his goal. He always has.
He knows that Vox is treating him better than he would anyone else. Vox is treating him better than anyone else would he had conflict with would, for that matter, but that doesn't make it any less insulting.
He gives up on the idea of smoking for the moment. He tucks the cigarette back in the box, then lets his hand drop back down to the seat. And as for the real reason that Vox was so eager to come back with this magnanimous display... ]
I assume your partners are still avoiding you?
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He takes another drag from his cigarette, smirk widening into something more hollow and performative when the question is posed. Then he turns to face Alastor again, staring down at the man.]
Wow, talk about wild assumptions. No one's avoiding anyone. Everyone's busy. Prepping for the ascent to Heaven's turned this place into a madhouse.
[That's what Vox is insisting even to himself. The alternative is unbearable, after all. Not to mention infuriating.]
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[ Alastor scoffs. He looks up to Vox, his eyes briefly narrowing. The rest might be nothing more than his own petty complaints, but on this there was simply no sense in offering calculated responses. He doesn't need to decide when to hold and when to fold, because there's no stopping what comes next. ]
And I know you. If it were an option, you would have taken my advice the first time instead of crawling back in here.
[ Well, he wouldn't have come back so soon, anyway. If he did come back, it would've been with someone, but more likely he would've heard about it later - look at what he was doing while Alastor was sitting here all alone like a loser, blah blah blah. The Radio Demon is both his first choice and his last resort. It's tragically mutual, because the Media Overlord is his only choice. ]
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CW: suicide ideation of sorts
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