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Summary
It was a relief to find that, in their absence, Niffty had obviously taken it upon herself to tidy Alastor's rooms. A faint smell of spiced beef lingered about the place, but for the most part things had been freshened up. And there was a gaudy, red and gold couch by his fireplace, his armchairs having been pushed closer to his far wall and his bookcases. His coffee table sat in front of it, a flat-screen television mounted above the mantle.
Alastor cocked his head up at it, then turned to fix Vox with an innocent, wide-eyed grin. He strode over to the newly installed TV, tapping it with the end of his microphone.
“Goodness – I do hope this wasn't your next upgrade! Frankly I think it would be a little big for you, though perhaps the reason you've kept expanding the width of your head is to fit your ever growing ego?” Alastor asked lightly, canned laughter playing in the air to lessen the sting of his words.
Vox snorted, his mouth small as he gave Alastor an unimpressed look.
“Nah. That's my cousin.”
Series
- Part 40 of Signals Lost and Found