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“Well, this place looks depressing!”
Vox nearly slams his screen against his desk.
It's more of a table. He doesn't have his old desk anymore, one of the things that reminds him of the fact that he's not the head of VoxTek (new name TBD) anymore. Valentino and Velvette made sure he didn't have all his big boss things anymore when they fixed the damage made to the tower. The damage that Vox had caused with his angelic weapon. At least he still has his tank with Shock.Wav.
Which means that the room is now half empty and pretty dark. The latter to be blamed mostly on his theatrics. Sue him.
So Alastor is right. Infuriatingly so. Again.
“I knew I felt your radio waves, like, ten minutes ago, you fucking freak.”
He hears Alastor getting closer. “You really have fallen so miserably.”
“What do you want, Alastor? I'm not in the mood for your shit right now.”
He sits on the table next to Vox, facing him. “Oh, but I thought you liked it.” He lifts Vox’s head with his staff. “You look awful.”
Vox pulls away. “Came here to say I told you so?”
“Well, I was initially, but maybe I shouldn't twist the knife. For now.”
Alastor looks at him for a minute, then hops off the table and circles it to sit on a chair on the other side. Funnily enough, it's the same he was tied to last time. Vox thinks he catches a quick double take from him. Then he makes a swift little movement with his hand and a bottle with two glasses appears in between them in a cloud of green smoke.
Vox can't help the little smile forming on his screen.
Alastor pours them a drink, hands a glass to Vox, then raises his own.
“To your spectacular failure!” Alastor grins even wider than usual.
Vox shakes his head, then clinks his glass against Alastor’s.
“So,” Vox says, breaking the silence. “Redemption is actually possible.”
“Seems so. Why, were you thinking of giving it a try?”
Vox barks a laugh. “God, no. Redemption isn't for men like us.”
“I agree. Though Charlie would argue against that.”
“The princess is nothing but stubborn, isn't she?” he says through gritted teeth. If there's a little venom in the way Vox talks about her, he really can't help it.
“She's relentlessly optimistic. Especially now that-” Alastor stops mid sentence and drinks.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. I was forgetting myself. Almost said too much.”
Vox rolls his eyes. “Asshole.” Alastor’s grin doesn't falter. “So why are you even staying at the hotel, anyway?”
Alastor shrugs. “It's better than where you're staying right now,” he says, gesturing at the room. “What do you think?”
Vox stares at him for a second before he processes what Alastor means.
He bursts out laughing. Long and loud, just like Alastor did at his proposal all those years ago. Because fuck him.
He holds up a finger to Alastor's unfazed expression. “Wait, wait-” he manages to say in between laughter. “Wait- you- sorry-”
“Oh no, take your time, Vox.”
He takes a deep breath. “You want me to join you at your stupid hotel? Why the fuck would I do that?”
“What do you have to lose?”
“Val and Velvette would kill me, for starters.”
Alastor tilts his head to the side. “Do your little friends even talk to you anymore? Because from what I've heard, it's all Valentino here and Valentino there and no more Vox anywhere.”
Vox looks down at his own hands, fidgeting.
Alastor almost fucking giggles. “Mhh. That's what I thought.”
As a matter of fact, both of them barely talk to him anymore after the stunt he pulled with Heaven.
Vox looks back at Alastor and puts on a brave face for the sake of this conversation. “Why the hell would you want me there, anyway?”
Alastor leans closer. “That's for me to know.”
Vox’s laughter is brief and humourless this time. “No fucking way, I'm not falling for another one of your plans. Fuck you.”
“Aw, Vincent-”
“Don't.” The name coming from Alastor makes a shiver run down his spine.
He was the last person to ever call him that.
“Are you still mad at me about our little deal? It was merely to free myself from an annoying situation, it wasn't personal.”
Vox crosses his arms. Sometimes he wonders if Alastor can tell truly how much of a dickhead he's being.
“Oh-” Alastor straightens up and Vox guesses he has just realised it. “Oh, you wanted it to be personal. That's adorable.”
“You really are an asshole, you know?”
“And yet here we are. I guess you like it. Maybe a bit too much.”
“If that's all you had to say you can leave now.”
“I see I've struck a nerve,” he says, not sounding remorseful at all. He stands from his chair. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
The bottle and glasses disappear in the same way they appeared.
Alastor makes his way back behind Vox to leave. Probably just for dramatic effect.
“Al-” He feels Alastor stop in his tracks. “Thanks for the drink.”
“Always a pleasure to have one with you, old pal.”
Vox feels Alastor’s radio waves disappear.
He does slam his screen against the table this time.