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Vox heaved and coughed excess blood on the floor; there were wounds and scratches all over his body, with some of his cables sticking out and sparking with electricity. His screen would glitch, momentarily obscuring his vision as he watched the radio demon’s figure walk away from him. “Coward!” he shouted after him, his voice distorting as he glitched again.
Alastor kept walking farther away. “At least finish me off!” Vox shouted again, resulting in a bout of coughs. Alastor paused for a moment before his shadows engulfed him.
He emerged in front of Vox, who glared up at him. Alastor bent forward so they could be on the same eye level, “And why would I do that?”
Vox’s expression fleets from anger to confusion to anger once again, and if it weren't for the visual representation of it flashing through his screen, maybe Vox could have hidden it better. Alastor made a disapproving sound and straightened up, “Where’s your showmanship, old pal?” he shot up his hands in an overdramatic show and swung left and right.
There was a slight wobble in Alastor’s step that Vox noticed but made no comment on, his screen glitching in and out of focus as he watched Alastor continue, “There’s no stage, no audience. It would all go to waste,” Alastor said, turning his focus back to Vox, “We wouldn’t want that now, would we?”
“Bullshit.” Vox scoffed.
Alastor’s grin widened, “You of all people should understand better than anyone,” he bent forward again, “the importance of a show.”
“You radio broadcast this shit either way, old man.” Vox said and dropped his head, turning on his back and laying down on the ground, “Just… be done with it already.”
Alastor straightened up with a hum, twirling his cane in his hands before using it to lean on, “I’m disappointed, old pal. You’re not even putting up a fight.”
“I’m done fighting you.” Vox said, oddly calm.
“I must admit, that’s a lot less fun.” Alastor thought for a moment, “It wouldn’t be half as entertaining to broadcast the screams of a willing participant.”
“I don’t care anymore, Al.” Vox closed his eyes and said, “My empire has crumbled; I have nothing left to lose.”
Alastor was getting more and more irritated by the situation, “You truly are a pathetic rival,” he said, taking a few steps beside Vox. “To think you’ve survived this long.”
Vox let out a chuckle, his voice all distorted and glitchy, “If you really wanted to kill me, you’d have done so by now.”
“With nothing in return? Nothing to give?” Alastor stared down at Vox.
Vox’s eyes flew open, “Excuse me?” a light fury started to fuel him. “I have given you everything!” he exclaimed while trying to sit up, “You’ve taken everything! What more do you want?”
“You always had more.”
Vox whipped his head in Alastor’s direction, his injuries be damned, as he got up from the ground in a wobbly and dizzying manner, pointing a finger right at Alastor’s chest, “I don’t fucking understand you. Honestly, Alastor, what more do you want? You’ve taken it all,” he gestured wildly around him with his other hand, “destroyed it!”
Alastor stared at the pointed finger for a moment and then shoved it off his chest, dusting himself off as if something of great offense had touched him. Vox huffed. “Hardly.” Alastor said, “As an Overlord, this is but a slight inconvenience for you. Ready to be built again.”
Alastor's smile turned into something more smug, “And honestly, my old friend, if I had taken everything, your soul would’ve been mine by now.”
Vox grabbed Alastor by his collar and angrily pulled him closer, their faces inches away, “I would rather die than give you my soul.” he fumed.
Irritation and discomfort were written all over Alastor’s face, his smile widening enough for the stitches to appear, his eyes pitching black and demonic, and waves of static noises coming from the cane in his hands while his antlers slightly grew, “You’re getting too comfortable.”
“Do something about it, old man.” Vox spat.
Alastor’s tentacles emerged, forcefully pulling Vox away from Alastor’s personal space while pieces of his collar were torn by the sharp grip. His suit had already been a mess and torn up, so one extra scratch to it made no difference, but Alastor still made a disapproving sound at the outcome. His tentacles held Vox up like a starfish, and as much as Vox struggled, he was unable to free himself.
“My patience is growing thin.” Alastor sneered and took a few steps closer.
“You’re all bark but no bite.” Vox winced as the tentacles pulled at his limbs in every which way. Alastor’s body morphed into something larger, with his antlers growing in size. His shadow emerged from beneath, its presence looming above them in a show of Alastor’s emotions. Vox looked up as he struggled, deciding to let out a surge of electricity through his body and out. Reactively, the tentacles retreated from the electric shock, releasing Vox from their hold.
Before Vox could fall to the ground, Alastor caught him in his hand. He loomed above Vox, his shadow becoming increasingly horrific in the background, and his smile oozed with a black substance. Vox sent out more electric shocks in an attempt to free himself from Alastor’s grip, which was all in all futile, as the result was just Alastor’s ear twitching in response.
So he decided to switch tactics, “Aw, did I upset the big bad Radio Demon? I’m not fucking scared of you, Bambi.”
Vox’s words infuriated Alastor more than they should, “Your first mistake.” he hissed at Vox.
“Not really, is it?” Vox questioned, his head glitching in a series of error codes when Alastor squeezed his hand a bit too tight. Vox let out a pained huff once his screen was back to normal, “No, my first mistake was ever loving you,” he mumbled, but he knew Alastor heard him from the way his body tensed at the confession and dropped Vox to the ground immediately.
After Vox composed himself from the fall and got up, he continued, “Even though I should be afraid of how you’ll disassemble me, tear my limbs apart, torture my soul, and eat me! I would let you do it!”
“Isn’t that insane?!” Vox laughed, “I’m so fucking in love with you that I don’t even give a damn about you killing me because I would let you!” there was something more manic in his words now. “And you know what my second one was?” he asked.
“That I ever confronted you about it all those years ago!!” Vox shouted.
Alastor at this point had gone rigid; his body size was back to normal, but he was stuck in place as Vox let his thoughts loose.
“You never did feel the same, and I wish I had never told you about it.” Vox shook; his screen glitched, “Maybe you wouldn’t have left if I hadn’t.”
“I would have.” Alastor said.
Vox glared at him and bellowed, “Fuck you! We were friends, Alastor; we had fun!”
“Indeed,” Alastor paused, “but it’s all in the past.”
“And for someone who’s stuck in it, you sure as hell like to pretend this,” Vox gestured between them, “didn’t exist. God, I hate you so much.”
“You’re contradicting yourself now, dear.” Alastor cocked his head to the side.
“Hell, of course I hate you, Al! I just wanted you in my life, whether you felt the same or not.” Vox paused, “Not that I understood that back then.”
Vox’s machinery started to shut down, the blood loss and damage taking their toll, “I hated myself more for it.” he said as he fell to the floor on his knees and shut down, his face turning black.
Alastor stood there for a moment before taking a few steps closer to Vox. He looked him over, “You’re a bothersome picture box.” he said, using his cane to pry over Vox’s body, poking over his screen and shoulders for a response. When he was certain there was no response from the TV demon, he summoned his shadow and guided it towards Vox. The shadow picked up and threw the limp overlord over its makeshift shoulder. It followed along behind Alastor as he began to walk back to the hotel, indifferent to all the stares and whispers around him.
Once he reached the doors of the hotel and entered the threshold, the eyes of all the residents turned on him. And although he kept a straight face at the situation, always with a wide smile on it, part of him was annoyed.
“Alastor! Are you okay?” asked Charlie, hurriedly rushing to Alastor’s side and checking on his injuries.
Alastor’s radio static screeched through as a show of his discomfort with the princess’ proximity and unnecessary attention, “You need not worry about me, my dear. I’m perfectly fine.” Charlie stepped back, wearily smiling up at Alastor. “If you'll excuse me, I'll be heading to my radio station.” he said.
As Alastor walked past Charlie, “What is Vox doing with ya?” Angel Dust inquired from his seat on the couch, staring curiously between the radio and the TV demons.
“I do not believe that is any of your business now, is it?” Alastor answered lightheartedly, with only a hint of malice in his tone.
Angel rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah.” and dropped the topic all together, returning his attention to his phone.
Most of the hotel members returned to their previous tasks, losing interest in the bizarre situation in front of them, except for Vaggie and Charlie, who both kept on looking towards him. Alastor paid them no mind as he took the stairs and finally disappeared from view.
Upon entering his radio station, he instructed his shadow to place Vox on the chaise lounge he kept for whenever he needed to take a nap.
Alastor tended to his wounds and clothing first. He wasn’t injured as much, but he still needed to clean up the now dried blood, some of which was his own and some of which was not. He changed his clothes to something a little less torn up, at least up until he takes the suit to the tailor to fix up. Once he was done, he turned towards Vox, who continued to bleed out and stain Alastor’s chaise lounge.
He huffed and stepped closer to the battered-up demon, using the help of his shadow to slightly lift him up. Alastor knew that the blood loss would not kill Vox; according to the workings of hell, it would only keep him in a longer state of comatoseness, which was perfect for the pickings intended for any miscellaneous demons passing by. For Vox’s sake, Alastor was no better choice, able to tear him apart worse than whichever passing demon, but Alastor had no plans of the sort.
Alastor removed Vox’s tattered jacket, bowtie, and waistcoat, only unbuttoning Vox’s shirt. He took a closer inspection of the open wounds littered across the TV demon’s body and instructed his shadow to fetch him a wet cloth. Once the shadow handed the cloth to Alastor, he wiped around the gashes, getting rid of the blood that had dried or had not.
After working on mending some injuries and wrapping Vox in gauze, he conjectured up a new set of clothing for the TV demon, something far more subtle than whatever he wore before and a bit more comfortable and breathable for his injuries to heal. He also conjectured a single-sized bed in which Alastor’s shadow placed Vox to rest while he cleaned up the chaise lounge that got bloodied.
It took Vox a couple of days to come back to his senses; during that time, Alastor would stick around his radio station for a few hours in case Vox would wake up, and when he did, “Ugh, where am I?” Vox groaned.
Alastor’s ear twitched in his direction, then he turned around, “Ah, you’re awake.”
“Alastor?” Vox questioned. He held at his head, his screen going through a series of glitches, “I feel like shit.” he whined and reached at the back of his head.
Alastor was unable to see what Vox was doing, but the next thing he knew was that Vox’s screen rebooted, ceasing the glitching. “That’s better.” Vox sighed.
As soon as that was settled, Vox took a look around, “Are we at your radio station?” he asked.
“How observant.”
Vox rolled his eyes, “Why am I here?”
“Does that box head of yours not remember?” Alastor said mockingly.
“I remember,” Vox said, “I’m asking, why am I here?”
Alastor cocks his head to the side and shrugs, “Why, I brought you here.” but that did not answer any of Vox’s questions. Alastor continued, “I believe you should really be thanking me; I went through all the trouble of nursing you back to health.”
Vox looked down at his body, which was wrapped in fresh gauze, he presumed, and dressed in unfamiliar clothing, “You could have left me there to die.”
Alastor’s grin twitched before he turned back to whatever it was he was working on, “There’s no entertainment in that.”
“So you’ve said.” Vox hummed, “You could have killed me here.”
Alastor scoffed, “You were unconscious.”
“You still could have–”
“Vox.” radio static screeched and bounced around the room’s machinery, a piercing effect on Vox’s antennas that made him wince. “I did not wish to kill you.”
“Alright.” is all that Vox said in response before he let them drown in the quiet.
Silence befell them for a few minutes. Alastor intently fiddled with whatever was in front of him, while Vox looked around the station. He took in all the old gadgetry he hadn’t seen close to a millennial, fascinated by how well they held up even years later. He then glanced down at himself, some of his bandages poking out from under the white t-shirt he wore. He lifted the shirt up and examined the gauze wrapped around his chest, bringing his hand up to where he assumed the wound was, and winced at the slight pain there.
“Do not touch it.” Alastor said, his back still turned.
Vox flinched at the sound of his voice and looked up at him before looking back at his chest, “How long was I out for?”
“Four days.” Alastor replied.
“Ah.” Vox quietly exclaimed.
Alastor put down what he was holding and turned around in his chair to face Vox, “I am quite shocked; after all these years, I’ve never seen you so timid.”
“I was brought to your base, have been unconscious for four days, and have a still-healing wound, but you’ve decidedly not killed me. I’m more curious and confused about this situation than timid.” Vox voiced.
Alastor hummed, “You’re right, I should have probably killed you.” Vox frowned, and Alastor continued, “Your unconscious body would not have been so inquisitive. I reckon it would have been more grateful than you are right now.”
Vox rolled his eyes and said, “You can’t blame me for being curious, Bambi.”
“I believe I don’t have to answer your curiosity.” Alastor dismissed.
“Would it be so hard to admit it?” Vox questioned.
“Not hard.” Alastor got up from his chair, “But unnecessary.”
Vox grumbled, “But what if I just want to hear it?”
“What you want to hear is not something I have any desire to say.” Alastor went on to pick up his coat and wear it, “And most certainly not something that I would mean or feel.”
“I don’t want you to “feel” anything, Alastor.” Vox said, emphasizing the word ‘feel’ by using hand quotations. “Just that you care.”
Alastor grimaced, “That seems pointless.”
Vox rolled his eyes, “Humor me, Bambi.”
Alastor stared at Vox for a moment, deep in thought, contemplating what was being asked of him. He didn’t seem uncomfortable; he was just put off and unsure of the result it would have if he dared to say anything.
After waiting for a little while longer, Vox sighed, “Okay, how about we strike up a deal?” Alastor tilted his head to the side, and Vox continued, “A partnership.”
“Vox.” Alastor warned.
“Hear me out.” Vox lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m not asking you for a business partnership; I have nothing to offer on that front, and I know you wouldn’t accept either way. We’ve been through this before.”
“Then what might you be asking?” Alastor quirked.
“A truce, a friendship, a partnership.” Vox said, as if the words were supposed to clear up the intentions behind them. As if they matched perfectly with each other and had no different meanings. He went on, “A truce; no more rivalry or fighting. A friendship where you’re simply in my life, Al. We can hang out, have fun, and confide in each other; I don’t know, anything. And a partnership where we help each other. I’m not asking to have control over your station; I’ll not involve myself with that. As you said, I have my own shit to rebuild. Just, we can rely on each other.” he got more nervous the more he went on, until he stopped sucked in a breath and exhaled, “Yeah…”
Alastor let the silence stretch a tad longer after Vox was done with his ranting, watching the TV demon fidgets with uncertainty. “Is that all?”
“I–” Vox shook his head, “I’m not going to ask you to feel something you don’t, Bambi. But you know how I feel, and if that doesn’t bother you, then yeah, that is all. Do we have a deal?”
“Are you offering your soul?” Alastor smirked.
“No.” Vox deadpanned, and Alastor shrugged, “It’s more for formality purposes. We make our conditions and stick by them in the form of a deal. Something for the both of us.”
“And if I don’t agree?”
“Then, that’s it, I guess. I’m not going to force you into anything, and I’ll not fight you anymore.” Vox shrugged.
Alastor frowned, “That… sounds unpleasant.”
Vox burst out into laughter, “Are you saying you would miss me, Bambi?”
The grimace on Alastor’s face was, to say the least, comical, provoking another fit of laughter from Vox. “Regrettably.” Alastor crinkled, “Your lack of presence would be… noticeable.”
“I’m flattered.” Vox smiled, “So, we have a deal?” he extended his hand toward Alastor.
Alastor pushed Vox’s hand to the side, which made the TV demon slightly alarmed before he saw Alastor sit beside him on the bed and cross his legs, “A deal between Overlords should be made with caution, old pal. You never know when one might deceive you.”
Vox twisted his body and sat more comfortably to face Alastor, “Right.” he smiled.
“So, shall we make a deal?”