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While Alastor would never say it aloud, Vox’s shows certainly captivated an audience.
The first time Vox had persuaded him into watching one of his little picture shows, Alastor expected nothing of substance really. Of all the television displays Alastor had seen in his death, none of them stood a chance against what a good radio show could do. They were all gratuitous demonstrations of media with zilch to back up the visuals behind it. Audio was simply the better medium. The image one creates in their mind is a thousand times more powerful than any image created for you. Alastor didn’t anticipate for it it to be any different with the TV headed demon.
And yet.
Alastor found himself surprised, with how enraptured he was with the little show. It reminded him of the first time he heard the radio play, utterly captivated and for a single moment, filled with complete delight.
Vox didn’t just rely on his visuals to keep the audience engaged, no. He backed it up with actuality, with structure. The drama, the laughter, the music. It all came together to create a piece that could not be better envisioned than with how Vox performed it. It was a one man show, but it never felt isolated or suspended in disbelief. Alastor could admit to himself that this, was in fact what people gravitated towards in television. This intricacy of so many small details adding up to a vision so unique from anyone else’s. He could understand the appeal for that.
And Alastor felt delighted.
Too long it had been since there was a soul that amused him so much. And, he might add, it endlessly helped that Vox was such a sputtering mess when he was off the screen. His struggles did make for a rather enjoyable experience to be around. And if the newly fallen sinner stroked Alastor’s ego a time or two, well, that was Alastor’s business and his alone.
It was another night that Vox had one of his silly little talk shows. Alastor didn’t enjoy these as much as he did the other channels Vox played, but they were rather funny nonetheless. Vox did always do a great job at humiliating the poor soul that agreed to come on the stage.
Alastor tunes out most of it, what with the new victim on stage prattling on about what great success they achieved in life and why they didn’t deserve to be here. He decides to observe Vox instead, taking in the way he spoke with a practiced charm, an air of confidence surrounding him and his movements throughout the entire segment. He had the on screen presence many would dreamed of and would kill for. Both in terms of personality, and physicality.
He was a rather peculiar demon after all. Aside from the rather obvious outlier that was his boxy head, Vincent was a fascinating combination of machine and man. Wires and blood mixing together in the most bizarre fashion imaginable. Alastor’s hunger was a never satiating beast, and Vox’s flesh was no exception. A part of him would always crave for what Vox would taste like. Besides the amalgamation that was his bones and body, Vox had figured out that his body wasn’t as unchangeable as the rest of hells denizens. Alastor doesn’t think he can actually recall a single sinner who was able to upgrade and rearrange so much of themselves. He supposed some part of himself should be envious. Being able to change the form you take on in hell is a privilege not afforded to many.
It’s not as if he minds terribly, he had become accustomed to his own form. Oh it was a cruel joke to make him become the thing he was mistaken for, that he had been quite peeved about when he first landed (Rosie had laughed at him for a solid 5 minutes when she saw his face). However, he had learned to deal with it as much as one could. It’s not as if his form hindered his ability to terrify overlords and other sinners alike. He had had no trouble with that.
Alastor’s curiosity had peaked when he first encountered the other. The head drew him in no doubt, but his mind. His passion, his ambition.
It was so eerily similar to Alastor’s own.
In a few decades time, Alastor thinks Vox might be able to rival him. He had never met someone with just as much grit as him, despite the other still not having learned the importance of hiding one’s true emotions. Of course by the time Vox did rise to meet him, Alastor would have to put a stop to that. He and Vincent had an amicable relationship right now, but if the little TV head started getting ideas about overpassing him…no well that wouldn’t do. Alastor wouldn’t particularly enjoy putting the amusing box head back in his place, but if that’s what it came to, well.
But Alastor was getting ahead of himself. That was years and years ahead. In the meantime, this bumbling stuttering demon was a perfect companion to bid Alastor as much entertainment as he pleases. Such a funny little man, carefully composed on screen but as soon as the cameras were off, he grappled with not making a fool of himself every other minute. It was the only thing holding him back to reach his full potential.
Although, that kind of duality made for a beguiling facade for many, Alastor assumed.
With how Vox carries himself, a man of lesser intelligence might be fooled, but Alastor was a smarter man and he was no fool. No, he knew just how cruel Vox could be, and he would bet that behind closed doors, the TV heads souls were cowering as much as his own. Well. With the exception of Niffty of course. He would never dare cross the line of disrespecting a dame. Besides, the little insect demon’s undying loyalty meant he didn’t need to resort to fear to keep her in check. She did that all on her own.
No, the deer demon knew that part of Vox’s charm was playing the part. Interestingly enough, it did not dissuade him from leaving the other in the dust and circling back with his shadows to take a bite out of him. No, the ploy of Vox’s boyish charm was still alluring despite how Alastor knew it wasn’t real. So, he wouldn’t call the other out on it. Unless of course, Vox tried to push his luck and make a deal.
In the meantime, he’d bask in the never ending compliments to his own work, and enjoy having a mind as riveting as his own to play off of.
“Alastor!” With a snap, he is pulled out of his musings by a familiar tune. His boxy headed pal approaches him, suit and tie neatly pressed, smile absolutely blinding. Alastor’s ears flick slightly.
He nods his head and hums in acknowledgment at the greeting. It seems that while in his thoughts, Vox’s show had concluded for the evening.
“What did you think?” Vox’s eyes were always so expressive. Large round things that gave so much away, much more than Vox most likely intended to. Alastor found that he didn’t mind all too much, it made it infinitely easier to read the other when he wore his heart on his sleeve like that.
“Well, it was rather nice to see the demon’s reaction to his victim appearing in front of him for revenge. Though it could’ve done with more damage.” Alastor always appreciated inspiring fear in others, and even if that wasn’t the route Vox usually went to, he did well when he did.
Vox laughed at his words, eyes crinkling up as his voice boomed through the backstage. Alastor smiled a little wider, pleased at the reaction.
“Of course you’re complaining about the lack of violence.” Vox shook his head even as the curve of his lips stayed planted on his screen.
Alastor merely shrugged. Call him what you will, a sadist, a masochist, pain was always better to have around. He had reveled in causing it when he was alive, and he rejoiced in it here in Hell.
“Well then pal, how about a drink to cap off the night?” It was a lovely routine, the two of them had by this point. A day of show business, be it either Alastor’s or Vox’s and topping it off with a nice glass of rye. Or a couple. It had been a while since Alastor was able to meet someone who could keep up with him in that aspect, but Vox again, was proving to be a worthy adversary.
“Ah Al I’d love to, but I haven’t eaten all day because of my show-“ Alastor’s ear flicked down at the words, a flare of annoyance rushing through him. Vox knew better than to be as weak as rejecting his bodies needs. He rolled his eyes, sighing lightly. Of course, it would be up to him to fix this.
“Oh nonsense picture box, as long as you have something in that refrigerator of yours, I’ll whip you something up!” Alastor shushed him with a tap of his staff to the others screen. Vox gave him a look of annoyance at the interruption before his words registered.
His eyes widened, digital eyebrows flying up, and that signature blue flush overcoming his screen. Alastor could sense the others signal oscillating back and forth rapidly, like a beating heart. He seemed to struggle to articulate words for a moment before suddenly letting out a nervous laugh, moving a blue clawed hand to rub the back of his neck.
“I won’t have to choke back some sinner meat if that’s the case, right?” Vox stumbled over his words a little, cyan pupils darting around, seeming to look everywhere but at Alastor. The deer demon feels slighted at that.
Now that wouldn’t do.
He taps the others screen again, causing the TV demon’s gaze to snap back at him.
Better.
“Why of course! What do you take me for that I would let a dear buddy starve?” Alastor almost laughs at the thought of force feeding Vox his own cravings, making him bite through a sinner’s flesh and painstakingly chew it through and swallow it down. Oh, that was a good one. He’d save that thought for another time.
Vox’s face continues to look taken aback for another few seconds, and then his expression melts and he lights up. Quite literally. His screen brightens up a few levels. He lets out a laugh again, one that sounds more natural to him, and starts to nod.
“Alright then, yeah- of course, I’d be honored.”
Alastor, satisfied with the others response, move his staff back. Something catches his eyes before he leans back, however. A rather loud piece of lint on the others tux. It made his smile twitch with dissatisfaction. He reaches a hand over, brushing the lint right off. He looks back up to Vox’s still wide gaze. It made him look more doe eyed than an actual deer. Alastor felt his stomach curl in slightly. Perhaps he too was hungry. He could snag a sinner or two on the way to Vox’s.
“You really should take better care of your belongings Vincent, it’s unbecoming of a proper overlord.” It was quite embarrassing how much the other sinner had left to learn. No matter, Alastor wasn’t one to judge so harshly. They all had to start somewhere, after all.
He starts to exit the backstage area of Vox’s little production venue, Vox stumbling after him a few seconds afterwards.
When the other catches up to him, Vox immediately starts to go on a tangent on how he does in fact take care of his things, and how dare Alastor assume he wasn’t capable of doing so.
Alastor said nothing, a sly smile leisurely on his face, simply enjoying how the other was getting in such a fuss over a small comment.
Yes, perhaps he’d keep this one too.