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“Say pal,” Slightly disgruntled, Vox adjusted his coat and looked himself over in the full length mirror. Frown showing on his screen, he sighed and glanced at his neck. “You sure this rig doesn’t make me look too square?”
“Well my friend, I’d say you accomplish that all on your own!” Tapping his staff against the top of his friend’s head, Alastor had an amused look on his face as he popped up from behind Vox. “I dare say, you look positively snazzy!”
“Snazzy?”
“Handsome!”
“ Handsome ?”
“Hm, since when did I start to get an echo?” Tapping the top of his mic, he rounded to stand beside Vox; “Do you hear that echo?”
“I must say I do! I didn't realize televisions could blush – guess they're just not 'screening' those embarrassing moments!"
A laugh track played, and Vox had enough.
“Hyuck it up pal,” Hands on his hips, he took one more look.
Vox was boasting a gray blazer, tailored to perfection, with a subtle black pinstripe pattern running through it, adding a touch of sophistication. Beneath the blazer, he wore a crisp black dress shirt, the contrast of it accentuating the richness of the blazer. The ensemble was completed with a pair of sleek black trousers, impeccably pressed for a polished look. Around his neck, he sported a crimson red bowtie, tied meticulously in a neat knot to add a pop of color to the otherwise monochromatic attire. The bowtie exuded a dash of charm and flair, perfectly complementing the ensemble without overwhelming it. Perched atop his head was a classic homburg hat in a deep shade of charcoal gray with a narrow black band encircling its base. It was in grayscale due to fitting his motif of being a black and white television sinner. Alastor had suggested it, and it did look great.
And damn it all if Alastor’s tailor didn’t knock it out of the park.
“Right, well, I do believe we’re running late if you’re done appreciating your reflection!”
Flustered, he adjusted his hat once more, thankful for the tiny holes to let the two erect antenna through. When he turned to follow Alastor, he was pleasantly surprised to see him watching, as if waiting for Vox. Something so simple, something so innocent gave him a fluttering feeling. Vox ignored it as he followed Alastor out the store. They thanked the tailor on their way out, and Vox opened a tab with the man. He’d frequent this shop seeing as Alastor himself solely trusted this shop in particular. Stepping into rhythm with him, Vox watched as Alastor walked with his gaze forward, his hands behind his back as he took long strides. Vox was a few inches taller than Alastor, due to his head. Strictly speaking, if you counted the tips of his ears, Alastor could be considered taller, but if you included the tips of Vox’s antennas, then Vox was taller. They may have had a lengthy discussion of what does and doesn’t count when it comes to measuring height.
“So, where is it we’re going this time? Somewhere in the Cannibal Colony? Or that little cafe you took me to last week?”
“Somewhere.”
Alastor had said it with a tone of finality, to show he wasn’t interested in elaborating. Openly rolling his eyes, Vox now knew better than to press the question. When Alastor was being like this, it was best to just nod and follow along. So that’s what he did, while doing his best to keep the pace with the other. Quietly mimicking Alastor, he made sure his back was straight and his gaze was forward, and while his hands weren’t behind his back, he had contemplated it, instead they were in his trouser pockets. They really did fit right, comfortable and he could appreciate the material they were made out of. Reminded him vaguely of the kinds of suits he’d wear up top.
When he was alive.
But now here he was, eight months later and in the good graces of Hell’s most feared sinner, Alastor the Radio Demon. What a crazy turn of events! Vox still remembered when they first met. His mind drifted back to those final thoughts and then his first thoughts.
It was all moving so fast, one moment his eyes were closed and the next he had to peel them open. Air whistling in his ears, he could hear it, he could feel it. And then he could see the fast approaching pavement.
Something was happening. Something had happened.
It was over.
Then it began.
So much pain had abruptly stopped. Everything stopped. Everything was so quiet. How long had the pain stopped? How long had he been drifting? It felt like an eternity with nothing and everything all happening at once. Like he could hear and see so much, and yet he couldn’t feel a thing or truly think about what was happening. So quiet, so dark.
And then it was back, but different?
There was the falling again. Was this still happening? No, it happened. This was a second fall. Whistling, whispers, words all lost as the air around him flew by. There was only a moment before he saw the ground coming towards him far too quickly to not scream. And then, a crash. When the crash happened, he briefly blacked out. But he wasn’t dead. No, it was something else. It was hard to judge how long he laid there. Stewing in the pain that pulsed through him, he felt it didn’t mean much to move. Even if he could, what would he do? What was even happening? None of it seemed to truly matter. However, that all changed when there was a noise, something he could hear that felt like he was being pulled. Was that a pair of hands hoisting him up? Lifting his head- it felt so darn heavy. As if he’d traded it in for something like concrete. Like he was going to snap his neck before lifting it fully, the strain causing him to groan. Why did it feel like his teeth fell out? Something about his face was wrong. Moving his limbs slowly, he felt it was almost too easy. In fact, that made him a touch anxious. Shouldn’t something be broken? It felt like something had to be wrong. Then, almost abruptly, his face felt like it did a reverse sneeze.
A loud clattering sound was heard. It felt like he was chewing gravel. All of this was making his head dizzy. Well, dizzier than he had been after such a landing. Hands flat on the ground, he could feel something sharp beneath his palms, yet they didn’t bleed. It was mixed in with the loose dirt, the feeling of it was grainy and warm. He could smell something, something that consisted of soil mixed with burning. A forest fire? Lifting his torso up in one fluid movement, he sat on his knees. Feeling his head grow stiff, then moving it, he could feel eyes on him. Looking up from the small crater he made on impact, he could see something both haunting and yet intriguing looking down at him. A pair of eyes were the first thing he noticed.
“Red.. you’re so red.” Tilting his head a touch, he suddenly stopped talking. Hand touching his mouth, he was shocked to be feeling something solid there. Something… like glass? On his mouth? “What…” leaning forward on his knees, he looked down and began touching his head and body. “What’s going on?!” A distressing sound came from him, a whine of a signal. Dressed in the suit he died in, a now tattered navy and white three piece with a mangled black tie. Looking at his hands, he was mortified to see they weren’t his hands.
They were claws.
“My, my, what a intriguing creature you are!”
The voice was grating to hear. Wincing at it, he saw how the other watched his every movement. It was terrifying. Those giant red eyes stayed on him, its never ending smile giving him the worst sense of dread.
“You’re dead.”
Looking back to him, while he was smiling, it didn’t falter his expression. Looking back to his claws, he felt something rip out of his throat as he sobbed. There was no denying such a truth.
It took him nearly an hour to stop crying, and then half an hour to trust Alastor enough to follow him. Knowing him as he does now, Vox chuckled quietly to himself. The guy was so patient on his first day! Now? He was much more demanding. It was fun. There was never a dull moment with Alastor!
“And what’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
A sing-song tone was found in Vox’s voice as he began to whistle. They turned a corner, and while Alastor was still eying him, he didn’t comment on it. Two could play at that game. It didn’t take much longer for the pair to reach their destination: a large building that looked to be abandoned for a long time. It was old, weathered, and most likely was never repaired after a turf war, but not many happened this far from Pentagram city. It was right on the edge, no more than a fifteen minute walk from the tailor’s parlor. Alastor politely cleared his throat. Vox looked at him and saw the offered hand. Just like when they first met. Vox smiled to himself and took the hand, preparing for what was to come. Pulled into the dark’s embrace, Vox found himself leaning on Alastor, the force of it all leading to a dizzy spell. Keeping a hold of him, they were suddenly spat out and on top of the building.
“Well, isn’t that a jalopy's horn! You aren’t bumbling around like a blind folded tomcat. Color me impressed!”
“Har-har,” removing himself from the other, he felt heat rise to the back of his neck. “Why did we walk all the way out here just for…” the words died in his mouth. Looking at the scene around him, he saw most of the top of the building was still maintained. It had no piles of rubble, no cracks. It almost looked like someone was taking care of it. And what was more interesting was it had a beautiful view of the distant abyss of the hellscape. Yet from here, it looked more like an oil painting. “By God, this is the closest thing to beauty I’ve seen down here.”
“Hm, isn’t it?” Alastor toed forward, looking at the view. “But this view isn’t the only the reason I brought you here,” snapping his finger, the radio that was tucked to the side came to life. Vox hadn’t even noticed it until then. “I wanted to share this place with you, my friend.” For some reason that brought a grin to Vox’s face, and also touched his heart in a way he couldn’t describe. “You see, I’m showing you this as a sign of… well, let’s just say you’re worming your way into my inner circle, like a little pest.” Half-heartedly glaring at Vox, Alastor smoothed his features and tapped his cane to the ground so it stood on its own when he let go of it.
“Alastor?”
“Let’s dance.”
“Why?”
“What a silly question, dear television.” This time the smile actually looked like it reached his eyes. “Why not ?”
Stifling a laugh, Vox found himself smitten with the idea of dancing with Alastor. They danced occasionally near one another, with others, or just on their own. They never danced together. A small part of him thought it was queer of Alastor to suggest something like this, but he pushed that out of his head and accepted the hand. Alastor’s smile sharpened into something more dangerous as Vox was pulled to the center of their makeshift dance floor.
The music that rolled out from the radio was something fun, fast paced, and required the pair to move in near sync, something they were able to do surprisingly. It was a gas, something that Vox found himself experiencing more and more as he hung around Alastor.
‘ What good is melody, what good is music
If it ain't possessin' something sweet?
Nah, it ain't the melody and it ain't the music
There's something else that makes this tune complete ‘
“Well, what a show worth tuning in for! You're light on your feet for someone with such a big head. What, did you find a channel that helps with those two left feet of yours?”
“I miss a step one time and you never let it go!”
“I wouldn’t know what that’s like. Seems like you have the monopoly on that, my friend!”
The teasing, while one sided, was welcomed as the air between the two became warmer than the red sunset behind them. A soft melody played in the background, the city becoming muted as they danced to the music.
‘ What good is melody, what good is music
If it ain't possessin' something sweet?
Nah, it ain't the melody and it ain't the music
There's something else that makes this tune complete ‘
“What song is this?”
“It Don't Mean a Thing, our entertainment is brought to us by the ever so lovely Ella Fitzgerald and the classic Louis Armstrong!”
There was such genuine joy in his voice. As the jazz melody filled the air, the two men found themselves caught in the rhythm's embrace. They moved in synchrony, their bodies swaying gracefully to the smooth, soulful music. Alastor took the lead, his movements confident and fluid, guiding their dance with finesse. Vox was more than happy to let him lead them, entranced by Alastor’s elegance. The music blended into another song behind them, helping move them from the upbeat dancing they had been doing to something slower.
'I can't believe it
It's hard to conceive it
That you'd turn away romance
Are you pretending?
It looks like the ending
Unless, I could have one more chance to prove, dear'
As the smooth, sultry notes of Ella Fitzgerald's music filled the air, the two stayed close to one another, trepidation as they considered one another. The music had shifted and along with it, so did the tone. Vox gave Alastor a look, to which it was one of those rare moments when Alastor himself looked flustered.
“Looks like the channel changed.” Tearing his gaze from Vox’s, his was smile thin as he gathered himself. Composed within moments, he looked at Vox and took charge in grabbing his hand. “Let’s not waste the sunset. We can still enjoy the dance even if it changes into something slower.” Fixing Vox with a look, seeing how flabbergasted he was, he chuckled; “Don’t look so frightened! As long as you don’t step on my foot, you’ll live through this.” A laugh track played quietly underneath the music.
“Right, yeah, I’ll be careful.” Vox felt nervous, but not because of a fear of Alastor’s violent nature. More like he was nervous due to the way his stomach was doing flips from being so close to the other sinner.
‘ My life a wreck you're making
You know I'm yours for just the taking
I'd gladly surrender
Myself to you, body and soul ‘
With a new dance starting, both were slightly unsure of how to start until Alastor was the one to get them moving along. Their steps are tentative at first, mirroring the uncertainty that lingered between them. Each movement was filled with a strange longing and confusing feelings as their bodies dared to speak the unspoken desires of their hearts. Vox and Alastor danced in close proximity, yet there was an invisible barrier that kept them from fully embracing the connection that hummed between them. Neither quite meeting the other’s gaze, both finding the dance going well without any unnecessary eye contact.
As the music swelled and crescendoed, they lost themselves in the rhythm, their movements becoming bolder and more impassioned. Vox even went as far as to give Alastor a spin, something Alastor hadn’t anticipated but happily complied with. Illuminated by the light draining from the sky, Alastor was painted in orange hues, complimenting his already warm appearance. Vox for his credit was laughing, to which Alastor joined in when they were brought back close to one another and resumed their movements. Even without needing to look at one another directly, they found an enjoyable rhythm. Something quietly buzzed between them, as if their shared radio waves were so in sync it hummed with the music they danced to. Something neither of them could truly begin to explain, as it was such an integral part of themselves. With each step, they inched closer together, drawn inexorably by the magnetic pull of their unspoken bond. Yet, neither of them had even taken notice of their diminishing distance and simply lost themselves in the lovely vocals, the tune carrying them across the roof.
‘ My life a wreck you're making
You know I'm yours for just the taking
I'd gladly surrender
Myself to you, body and soul ‘
They continue to dance, their bodies moving in perfect harmony beneath the crimson sky, the song coming to an end, yet their dance did not. Not yet. When they did finally look one another in the eyes, Vox staring down at Alastor’s face, it was one of those rare moments where the sinner didn’t seem so guarded. Where he truly had a smile on because he was enjoying himself, not because he felt he had to. This was a view that Vox could get used to, if Alastor let him stick around. Judging from the expression he currently wore, it seemed that he was in good standings for getting that wish granted. The soft melody playing them out as they swayed, everything else slowed down. In that fleeting moment suspended in time, they found solace in the music, in the shared intimacy of their dance, and in the unspoken words that bound them together, body and soul.