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Vox and Alastor had known one another for close to eighty years, if one didn’t include the time they were aware of each other while alive. Alastor had taken Vox under his wing when he came to Hell, having been entirely unprepared for the nature of the place, and though Vox never quite knew the reason why he had been so inclined, outside of perhaps the familiarity of life, he never questioned it, either. Alastor was a mentor to him, taught him just about everything he needed to know, protected him from others just as much as himself, and eventually became someone he trusted, valued. Loved, even.
He never knew how Alastor felt about them - he never asked. It was too real a conversation to have, too dangerous against what he did have. In all of his life and death both, people around him only ever wanted something from him. His influence, or his presence, or his charisma. But Alastor had little need for the things he could offer, and most of the time, he was just happy to have someone he felt like he mattered to in a way that wasn’t conditional upon his abilities. Eventually, though, Vox began to worry he didn’t deserve him. Would Alastor wake up one day and realize how little he did for him? How much he clung, how desperate he could be?
So he started making some changes. Once the 90’s hit, he decided to pursue the trends, follow in the path of technology more closely. Upgrades, new features, more products, advertising and marketing. Branching out into different places, eventually recruiting others into his business model, creating the Vee’s with Valentino and Velvette. He started working more and more hours, dedicating himself to his work in hopes to prove a sense of ambition, his abilities to be successful and independent. But Alastor pulled away with every showing, and he thought, maybe it just wasn’t good enough. Maybe he needed to be even more, even better. Alastor never said the words to him, but what else could he assume? What else could he think, so desperate for his attention he became?
And so, he thought, maybe he could offer him a spot in his work. They were doing so well, after all, it wasn’t as though a new branch would be unwelcome, and he wanted Alastor there. He wanted him by his side. He remembered so fondly the projects they used to work on. The hours Alastor would happily spend listening to him discuss the script and look things over, give advice on the audio portions especially. He never asked for his name on anything, but he had always loved their combined efforts, and they were some of the happiest times. Maybe if he could offer something like that again, they would be able to come together once more. He didn’t even have to be in the forefront, if he didn’t want to. They just rarely met together anymore, and if he could find a real reason to bring him in, wouldn’t it have been so nice? He hoped Alastor would feel the same way, although he tried not to get his hopes up too high. He knew he wasn’t the biggest fan of the newer technologies and not necessarily personally invested in every aspect of the business. But if he appealed to their friendship, and the success he’s produced, maybe it would work out.
Vox sent out a meeting invitation and Alastor accepted. He was there on time, just as always, with his smile on his face that he always promoted as being so important. It always eased his mind and heart to see him, but the nerves that settled immediately into his body ruined the feeling a little bit. He always felt that their personal frequency had so much tension when they were this close these days, and he felt he couldn’t use it anymore. That he didn’t really … deserve such a connection. A feeling he knew he settled on himself, but couldn’t seem to break through. Or maybe he had gotten more comfortable performing aloud, and that was sort of his plan here. Try to hide his fear and worry, try to act as though he wasn’t completely desperate for this to work out. There was a long moment of silence as he tried to gather his thoughts, and then he began.
“It’s so good to see you again, Alastor, old friend,” he started, already knowing he was talking over his own thoughts. He tried to shut down his internal thoughts, but found he could only speak over them, instead. It was fine, this had to be fine, he could make this work, surely, he wouldn’t lose him completely if he tried hard enough, right? He’d finally done enough, hadn’t he? Please, let it be enough. “I know we don’t meet too often these days, but- ah, shit.” As he spoke, his cell phone interrupted with a ding, and he pulled it out to read the preview message. Nothing too important. He set it back down, but his thoughts and words were derailed. He worked to get them back in order.
“Sorry, just an update from Velvette,” he explained, a little embarrassed. “Anyway, as I was saying- I’m hoping to sort of resolve our lack of ability to meet more often today. The company as a whole is seeing profits higher than ever right now, I know you might not really keep up with all that, but it’s been a super profitable quarter. The costs are low now for at least seventy-percent of our products, which is really boosting income, bringing repeat customers, and of course, I’ve been working on the signal with my powers and find that it’s about ten times more effective now attracting new customers than it was this time ten years ago.” He spoke with confidence about his work, but there was a nervous energy that he was releasing along the frequency, no doubt, causing him to raise his voice a little, to put more power behind it, to try to seem more and more pleased. Was it impressive enough? Was he proud? Did he think Vox was worth his time now, having ascended ranks in his own way? He couldn’t do what Alastor did, he couldn’t mow down other Overlords like that, but maybe this would be good enough?
Alastor remained silent. He floundered a little, but continued.
“We’re really branching out, you know, reaching new corners of the market in a lot of ways, Velvette has really done a great job spreading our influence around and getting more of an audience, and Valentino has most definitely dominated the adult space in a lot of ways and I think we’re about as saturated there as possible, with an appeal for just about anyone. Sponsorships and ad spots have wait lists now, even the really short banner ones.”
Get to the point, Vox.
He heard it over the frequency, over the fray of his frantic words and thoughts, and he didn’t even think about it. He didn’t really register it properly, but he found himself moving the conversation along as quickly as he could in response, like it was a command, like he had to listen or something terrible would happen.
“Anyway. I’ve been thinking about the way we used to collaborate on old projects, and I thought it might be a great idea to invite you onto the team!” He put as much enthusiasm, hope, anything positive he could think of into the words. He wanted him so badly to agree. He wanted to work with him again, he wanted to bridge the gap between them; maybe if Alastor saw first-hand how much he worked, he would see how hard he was trying. “I figure, we would be happy to help broadcast your works, you’d of course maintain full control over your side of things. Just reach more audiences, you know? You wouldn’t have to be on any forefronts, you know, the trio of Vee’s is well established, that wouldn’t be something you have to worry about, and you could be as involved or uninvolved with inner workings as you’d like. But I think, mostly, it’d be nice to work together again.”
There was a long moment of silence in which Alastor seemed to be staring him down, as though he’d said something wrong. It felt like someone was pouring ice water down Vox’s back.
“Well, what do you say…?”
“Are you joking?”
The words didn’t sink in at first, and then Vox’s smile faltered. The silence settled in, and Vox found himself responding in his own mind with a soft, no…
Alastor began to laugh, moments after, and the sound was like a knife through Vox’s heart, and he felt his expression slip into something more vulnerable, but he couldn’t find words, neither in his mind or his mouth. He couldn’t respond at all, and then the world began to darken around them, as Alastor’s antlers sprouted and grew from his head, his shadow expanding to take over a large space behind him, twisting and uncontrolled. Vox wasn’t afraid of Alastor, had never been, but the vicious aggression was never directed at him like this. He shrank back slightly - not worried about what he would do to him, but what he would say.
“No.”
Even just one word felt so harsh, but Vox only watched, waited, and finally listened. Too little too late.
“I will say this once, so listen closely.”
I will say this once, once, so listen closely.
Alastor was speaking both out loud and along the frequency, and Vox could hear every word, and could feel the rage and disgust in the latter. He wanted to hide. Go back, change things. He wanted to take it back, couldn’t he take it back?
“I want nothing to do with any of this. I want nothing to do with you.”
Nothing to do with this. Nothing to do with you. Nothing to do with you.
Digging into his soul. Dragging claw marks along his heart.
“You are an embarrassment. A fraudulent pathetic wretch. I would be ashamed to work with you anymore.”
Embarrassment. Fraudulent. Pathetic. I am ashamed of you.
“I hate everything that you have become.”
I hate everything that you are.
Words like knives, truly, weapons that could kill so much easier than any other thing. His heart sank, wounded and damaged. His mind couldn’t process it fast enough. He couldn’t keep up.
“There is no world in which I can take you seriously. You are nothing more than the senseless and impractical things you surround yourself with.”
You are nothing. Nothing.
Nothing? He was nothing to him. Has it always been that way? How long had Alastor felt like this?
“I never want to hear such stupid notions from you again. Do not come to me for anything else. I don’t want your worthless opinions or support.”
I never want to hear from you again. Do not come to me. I don’t want you.
He doesn’t want you. Hear that, Vox? He doesn’t fucking want you.
“I do not need you.”
I do not need you. I. Do not. Need. You.
He knew that already. It wasn’t new, but it hurt just as much, like a brand new revelation that could break him down. He was breaking down. His body was starting to fail him, but he couldn’t even think about that. His screen stuttered and flickered like a light switch was being played with, his expression changed with each flicker, but he couldn’t begin to keep track of his own feelings. The shadows began to fall away, and by the time Vox could properly see again, Alastor was gone. Silence filled the room, save for the static of his own body, almost like a low keening he couldn’t seem to control. He didn’t know where it was coming from. His throat? His face? Some other failing fucking body part?
Alastor hated him. The words were settling in the seat of his soul, and they dug deep homes there. He started to laugh, at first, a manic, unhappy sound escaping him that he couldn’t stop. But it devolved quickly, and he dropped his head into his hands, shaking as he sobbed. He’d fucked it up. He had fucked it up so fucking bad, what couldn’t he see? It was right there the whole time. There were so many signs, and instead he had chosen to rush blindly forward, thinking he had the answers, that he knew what he was doing. He had assumed all the wrong things, and look where it led him.
There were new rules. New rules he would follow. He had to. What else was there to do? Beg for him to come back? Beg for a chance to recover, to fix his wrongs, to talk about everything he’d done wrong? No, he’d made it perfectly clear he had no intention of that. Besides, it wasn’t as though he deserved it. He was worthless, after all.
A failure, a fraud, and nothing.
Always fucking nothing.