Chapter Text
They had dragged the body 5 blocks and up a hill.
Luckily for the couple and the body scraping though concrete and grass, the city was quiet, at least outside of the Doomsday and Vees districts. The only ones who noticed them were sinners either drunk, high, or so absorbed in their own business to care about the Princess and her girlfriend dragging a body under the dingy street lights. Vox not looking like Vox definitely helped with that. Dirt and dust had clouded his screen, but Charlie knew his model, the ports on the back of his head, the red lining the space between his casing and his screen.
Charlie and Vaggi stood not far from the hotel now when Charlie halted, anxiously murmuring, “The lobby is too.. crowded now. We need to take the maintenance elevator.” Vaggi nodded in agreement, being quiet since they buttoned up the coat they found on Vox onto him. Her expression ironclad with silent resolution, but the frustration seeped through with her tell being the taut pull of her lips.
The pair took the side entrance only intended for an emergency exit, from the kitchen to the trash compartments, but now since they were finding new uses, it was also good to sneak wanted people inside. Dirt and mysterious fluid which Charlie really hoped wasn’t blood and instead trash water, (but dirty water wasn’t usually blue…) dragged on the pristine tile floors behind them. Staining it with two blue streaked highlights. The tension from both the disappointment from her girlfriend and her enemy’s presence in her hotel which he discredited, was churning Charlie’s stomach. Still she needed something to drown out the noise of wet wires sliding and snagging on cold tile.
With a sheepish smile and faint eyes she chuckled, “At least Niffty will be happy.”
Vaggi’s eyes didn’t meet hers, they stayed trained with a soldier’s hardness on the floor as she pushed through, just audible was a slight huff that came off her breath. Charlie winced.
She tried to leaven the tension and felt like a bruised lover from it. Vox’s head drooped limply on her shoulder was a firm reminder of his thoughts of her, a failure. She wanted to thrust him to the ground and leave him.
She sighed in defeat. She’d never be so cruel.
In the elevator they leaned him to rest against the metal armrests of the elevator. His head sagged, craning his neck at a concerning angle.
Vaggi spoke. “They’re not going to like it.” Looking at Charlie with a softer worry in her eyes. Her arms were crossed, her manicured nails digging into her arm. Words caught in Charlie’s throat in a moment with all the words she wanted desperately to say to reassure her. She put out her hands to her for Vaggi to hesitantly take. “You’re right.” For a second she looked erratic realizing how that sounded. “But- but I know how to,” She paused, before terribly imitating Vox’s suave voice, “spin it.”
Vaggi stared and couldn’t stifle a chuckle. Her eyes lit up. “And how will you spin this? Hm?”
“I don’t think he’ll want to change, but I’m giving him the chance. We don’t know why he was out there. But maybe we can get Angel to come back. If he wants to leave he can get Angel to march right back up here.” She spoke with a determination that shone through her eyes. Vaggi squeezed her hands in return before hugging her. “I like it. I’m glad you have a plan, Char.”
Charlie blushed and waved her wrist. “Thanks, my angel.” She mimicked his voice once again with a dumb smile on her face. Vaggi’s mouth squished into a tense line as she tried to stop a smile. “Ok, enough. I’m already tired of him.”
The elevator opened to the top floor. They repositioned and started to drag him to the common space they shared with her dad, Niffty, Husk, Cherri, Baxter if he chose to leave his lab, ..and Alastor. Charlie pushed shoulder first through the door, Vaggi coming last, Vox hanging between them like a limp child. Everyone, but Baxter and Alastor were sitting on the couch in the conversation pit. Happy. She felt her stomach turn.
“Heyy guys…” She smiled shakily and waited for their reactions.
The rage was audible. Most came from Husk and Cherri. Niffty was mumbling something about Vox looking hot unconscious which she decided to tune out.
“Oh, princess if you even think of keeping that dickwad here, I’m moving out!” Cherri rose to her feet fast, gripping her phone tight in one hand at her side. “Better yet I’ll blast his technicolor ass!”
Husk’s fur stood on end, looking like the picture of silent rage. “For once I agree. Charlie you can’t think of keeping that maniac here.” He gritted his teeth, he sounded distressed.
Lucifer, originally looking disgusted at his presence here, stood to defend Charlie seeing the two. “Come on. I’m sure it's not so simple.” His voice raised nervously, “Right, Char? It's not so simple. He did kinda tie me up and milk me dry.”
She cringed and Cherri couldn’t help but to snort. “Don’t say it like that, Dad.” She raised her finger. “But I do have a plan or an idea of a plan. Vox isn’t the most likely to be a guest, but I want to give him a chance ok? It's the principle of the hotel.” She said authoritatively, before softening, turning to Husk and Cherri. “But I think we can negotiate or demand that he gets Angel Dust to come back. This is the perfect blackmail material right, guys?” her arms growing tired fast from holding his weight leaned him onto the couch.
They looked unsure, but Charlie caught something more complex in Husk's expression. He looked hopeful. Cherri piped up first, “You think we’d be able to intimidate a shark like him? I mean yeah we’d be able to, but you? He kinda beat your ass everytime you went face to face.”
Charlie looked at her unimpressed. “I’m signing you down for healthy communication classes. I know I didn’t handle it well when it came to him those months ago, but I know I can handle it now. It’s my job.”
“Ah piss..” Cherri muttered and snapped her fingers. Husk flicked his ears up though, and placed a hand on Cherri’s shoulder. “I trust her.” He nodded, before flattening his ears and barring his teeth. “He tries anything and I’ll shatter his shit faced screen.”
Charlie nodded then turned her gaze to Lucifer. He pointed a finger towards himself and cocked his head with a surprised expression. “Me?”
She smiled slightly, “Yes you Dad. Could you fix him up?” She glanced slightly back at the others. Cherri Bomb was already filming, for which she was thankful.
Her father shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, that? Heh, yeah I can do that.” He pulled his suit straight and smoothed it down, standing in front of Vox’s body a bit too unclothed and too large for his liking. “Tch. Can’t fix his personality though, honey.” He murmured.
“You’re gonna have to tone down the jokes when he’s awake, ok?” Lucifer scoffed in response as he placed his hand on one of Vox’s wired hands. His bottom lip quivered from the sensation of wet wires. He focused on imbuing the half dead TV with health and life, letting yellow and white light bend around his hands into Vox’s arm through spiraling wisps. It started to twitch. His body produced noises like wet animatronic, like a machine struggling with an overflow of oil.
And then the static of his screen flickered and started to load. She could taste the electricity in the room on her tongue.
…
A thick fog of static surrounded him like a blinding smoke. He could feel the electricity in the air. Vibrating, erratic. He felt the corners of his mouth tug painfully into his cheeks. Vox was awake and he was already panicking like a rat in a trap. How he needed to revel in it. He let shadows surround him, sinking into the floor. Through the floorboards and inner wall casings he weaving carefully swiftly into the very room this incessant pulsing of electricity came from. He materialized in the pit, behind Charlie, behind Lucifer, and saw it. The thing he’d been waiting for, Vox.
Charlie swiveled fast on her heels and flung out her hands to stop him.
“Al, wait, stop!”
Quickly he snapped his neck to see the flicker of Vox’s screen, seeing the crimson slivers of his eyes spark to existence. They looked like two bloody cuts on his digital screen. Charlie must have yelped, but the sound of Vox’s speakers was deafening he whined back to life. His static quieted to a pathetic hum. He sounded like wounded prey.
It would be so easy to dig his hand between his wires and rip out his heart.
…
Vox’s whole existence had turned into a mind numbing coma. He fled, he found a safe spot, but as he grew he could feel his systems corrupting-or decaying. He put on his distress signal, calling for the Vees to take him back. They were right, he was right. He couldn't manage on his own and now he couldn't even beg for them to take him back to the comfort of the tower. He only whined a low frequency and hoped somewhere someway they could see the disturbance in Voxtech radio channels and know it was him. Fuck his life. Valentino and Velvette didn’t even listen to the radio. Radio was his least lucrative business, he only kept it for cars since he didn’t want another company or demon ruling the public normal radio. He was the Media Demon, the Entertainment Demon, and he’d have his say in every little thing demons ingested from what radio channels they listened to in their shitty diesel gas car, to every billboard, and every insignificant thing they watched with a screen. Now, he was past last week’s news and laid curled in an alley. He couldn’t feel his legs, because there were none. As he slowly constructed his biomechanical body from scratch, extending his cables to act as an exoskeleton as his throat regenerated into his lungs, his arteries into more arteries. Wet slimy guts cushioned by tightly woven wires. As his nervous system regrew it felt like what he imagined Frankenstein’s monster felt being revived or birthed by lightning.
His plan was stupid. Foolish, naive, and everything he had said. He would’ve regenerated enough to walk in two weeks tops if he had stayed and asked to be put on his powered cables. Instead, he was rotting in an alley, hidden in darkness and behind wrecked, molded furniture. He was sure he could feel the nibbles of rats on his wires, trying to push through to his soft and ready insides.
Eventually, his systems slowed as the internal power required to rebuild himself grew. He knew it was dangerous, he might be killed or used in a place like this, but after deliberation he let his conscious and sensory system go offline. Leaving himself only a timer for the estimated time of regeneration to wake. This way he could reboot faster, if he took his energy away from thinking. He couldn’t wait much longer in this stinking alley before someone found him. He went offline. Some time must have passed.
His systems flared from a foreign source so powerful his internal processing could hardly register it. It did what nothing should even be able to do to his complex programming, like someone had inserted a plug connecting straight to his hardware and rebooted him. All his systems flashed online in an instant, like a million different tabs all fighting for his attention. Panic flared as his body was left immobile while internally he frantically managed all things overloading his system to the point he could use his external mechanics.
It felt like an hour drudging through sludge, but in a matter of seconds his external systems were loading. His fans hissed with heat and his glitched screen flashed while he booted up. Faintly he could feel a hand retract from the surface of his screen.
Muffled by the whining of his fans he processed someone utter, “Yikes, that's hot.”
Familiar. Too familiar. He forced his screen on through the overheating and opened his eyes fast, only to hiss from the lights. Shutting his eyes quick and blinking them rapidly till the colorful splotches left his visions till he focused on Lucifer.
His first instinct was to kick, but he felt paralyzed from his system reboot and maybe a twinge of fear. Lucifer shouldn’t have been able to hurt him. That hurt? That hurt a lot! Did he lie? Did he circumvent divine punishment just to get revenge on a man from the 50s?
His heart stopped. A head full of black and red curls peaked from behind Charlie, bloodshot eyes narrowing playfully, menacing on him.
“I see when I asked you to pick up my order you decided to get me a more speciality meat?” His tinny voice rang through his auditory processing like microphone feedback.
Even more dreadful, he noticed two of Angel Dust’s lapdogs(Husk and Cherri Bomb) eyeing him like attack dogs ready to be let off their lead. Cherri Bomb even held a ready bomb in her hand.
If he had pants on he’d shit them. Wait. Where the fuck were his pants? Or in general where were his clothes? Buttoned around his torso was a loose overcoat that extended to just about his knees and was not his. This was either a nightmare or a divine plot constructed for all of the demons and angels in this room to enact their individual revenge on him and he couldn’t even trust Alastor’s revenge to be satisfying this time.
“No no! Vox is here as a guest, and as the hotelier you can’t hurt any guests.” There was a twinge in Alastor’s smile and ear as Charlie pointed a finger to him accusatory. Then Vox noticed the only non-murderous presence in the room and felt his hard whirring fans cool a bit. He couldn’t see her face, but saw her squared shoulders soften. “Al, I’m sorry. I know it must be hard to have him here, but I can keep you two separated.”
“What the f–fuck is happening.” He spat out. He practically chucked with how absurd this scene was. Charlie trying to take him like a stray mutt with everyone else ready to turn him into computer scraps– and Alastor, he couldn’t even tell if he was excited to devour him or if he was upset about his arrival.
“Charlie, I know you must be fooled but this is clearly of some attempts to stalk me.” Alastor weaved around Charlie, his body facing Vox with his arms outspread as if he would offer him an embrace while he faced Charlie. The corners of Vox’s mouth turned downwards harsh and sourly. Alastor of course would be so full of himself to think this was for him when he didn’t even know the circumstances of how he got here. The Radio Demon stepped closer so that Vox could sense the radio signals radiating off him. He towered over him as he half laid half sat on the couch, mouth agape.
Slowly, Alastor leaned in his head cocking to the right looking almost serene. “Seriously Vox? You’d be so obvious?” He slid his staff between the parting of Vox’s overcoat, right between his thighs. “Disgusting pervert.” He cursed as their faces nearly touched with a revolted glare on his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly together.
Alastor could hardly stop a chuckle seeing the blue light growing over Vox’s cheeks. He was so easily riled, especially when it came to him.
“You- This wasn’t intentional!” Vox gasped, his face contorting as he pushed himself up with the palms of his hands.
“Careful, friend. One wrong move and you’ll flash us. Hm, you did always like to leave your audience speechless though?” He leaned back and peaked an eyebrow at him. Now that got Vox into a rage.
Once he’d sat up, he planted his feet in what looked like he would headbut Alastor like a buck(Ever so silly of Vox, from the look of him he could barely stand-), but instead he struck his leg into Alastor’s staff with a force he didn’t expect, connecting his foot with Alastor’s leg. With a bleat he fell forward, his hands grasping the cushions. He stood quietly for a moment with Vox seething beneath him. It was such a futile attack, it hardly even hurt, and that caught him off guard. Vox was stretching his shaking hands out again to grasp his coat. “You archaic bastard-”
Suddenly he felt himself get pulled back and turned to see Charlie with magic light emitting from her hands. He flicked his ears down and his smile grew strained. She stepped forward between the two. Alastor crossed his arms while Vox gritted his teeth, plopping down and manspreading as always even with just an overcoat on. Alastor could see how his knees swayed before he did.
“There won’t be any fighting here.” She gave a pointed look to Alastor to which he scoffed. She didn’t pay it any attention. Charlie turned to Vox, her expression determined, but not naive like when they faced before.
“Vox, I’m offering for you to stay here as a guest. Only if you accept it. I know you don’t like charity or my cause,” He huffed and raised an eyebrow, “but it is my duty as Princess of Hell to help my people. Like Lilith.”
Vox did certainly use her name in vain recently.
“Oh so kind and so ever naive of you Princess…to trust me.” He stood, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. He masked it with an conceited grin and the hypnotic black swirl in his eye, his hands clasped behind his back. Charlie narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t trust you. You threatened my hotel, you ruined my image, you kidnapped my hotelier, and Angel Dust, and my father! And you almost killed me.” She pointed a finger to him harshly. “I believe in second chances and third chances and I believe the road to recovery is hard, and has relapses, and I know not everyone wants to recover. But most of all I believe people can change even when they didn’t think it was possible.” She laughed, “I mean that’s what I was trying to tell you last time you were here, but you were too busy trying to slander me.”
He laughed with her, his own laugh hollow and fake. He tilted his head with a calculated grin, “So, this is to get in the last word?” He tried to reclaim the conversation. Instead Charlie faced him evenly, her eyes resolute.
“Maybe. I’m not unselfish.” Vox twitched his antenna in surprise she’d even admit that, “But most of all I want to help you because I can see you need it.”
His digital cheek twitched. Enough playing games, he needed to plan now. It would be embarrassing, difficult to go back to Val and Vel. They would hardly do anything, but express their disappointment. If he could avoid a few weeks of being berated by Valentino and Velvette, he would. Here, he could scout out a way to ruin them from the inside(maybe Val and Vel would be less angry if he came back with something useful). He could rest a bit in a soft bed.
But to all that was holy he wouldn’t look weak. He turned on his best talk show voice and with a wide smile on his face, “Then. Who am I to turn down such an auspicious and generous offer? I’ll take your gracious help, Princess!” He clasped his hands together before swinging an arm around her shoulder. Vaggi practically growled.
“Though I’ll need to think over being another one of your little rehab projects. A man like me? It hardly looks good for my image. You can understand.” He pointed a finger to her chest.
Charlie took his hand off his shoulder and then tenderly clasped in a handshake. “I understand. I’ll give you time to think it over.” She smiled at him. Vox would never not find her confusing.
“Now I’m very tired, despite some people’s beliefs I didn’t ‘show up’ for some person. Might you show me to a room, Miss Morningstar?” He smiled back at her. He could register Alastor slyly whispering, “You certainly look tired.” He frowned till the corners of his mouth reached his casing and his antenna vibrated.
Charlie put a hand around his back and quickly ushered him out of the room before another fight broke out. Vox looked at her like she was a foreign creature. Vaggi trailed to the other side of Vox with her spear a bit too ready.
“Also as a guest you can’t attack the staff.” Charlie added on with a cringed smile.
“Noted, Princess.” The sound reverberated in the halls with the growl of his voice. Charlie gave him a cautious look.
“That’s another problem. Sinners can’t know you’re here.” Her hands clasped together rubbing anxiously. Vox raised an eyebrow and Charlie flung her hands up.
“Because they’d want to hurt you-! I’m not embarrassed to have you here. I doubt that, for your image you’d want people to know you’re here either.” Charlie explained and Vox smiled slightly.
From his head emitted a winning ding and cheer like from a game show, “Correct, Princess. You are more thoughtful than I thought.”
Vaggi rolled her eyes, “She’s more thoughtful than you’ve ever been.” But Charlie kept on smiling, feeling and appearing more confident.
“I know that was backhanded, but I do care about the feelings of my guests and I’m getting better at providing for their needs.” He let out a light hearted laugh. It seemed genuine, but Charlie could see that corporate grin.
Vox wanted to laugh in her face. He’d seen how ready she was to disregard Angel Dust’s feelings about him to win his praise. How’d that work out for her? An embarrassing special interview that still got Charlie sinner’s hatred in the comments. She’d fall for his tricks yet.
Charlie continued on, “So I think it’d be best to keep you on this floor. No one, but staff and friends come up here since no one else’s had a room checked to this floor. Though it has been filling out quickly! The second floor is almost booked up. This floor has more specialty rooms which is nice, you’ll like that.”
“I do have rich taste.” Vox commented back, smiling at her.
They came to a stop as the hallway split into three ways. Charlie looked anxiously down the right hallway, Vox peaked over her shoulder, but he knew the reason. He could feel the radio waves emitting and the hallway was unnaturally dim. Alastor’s room and radio tower must have been down that way.
“I think the perfect room for you is down this way.” Charlie gestured straight ahead, just a right turn away from that hallway. Vox smiled, horrible liar.
“Thank you, Miss Morningstar.” He smiled down at her and followed. She practically put him in the room at the end of the hall, but placed him a couple from the end to try not to raise his suspicion. The room doors were widely spaced out, he was surprised she’d be giving him such a large room.
“Andd here we are, Vox.” In her palm she generated a key. Black metal with a pink eye on it. She stuck it in the key fob and opened it up to dark room. “Tada!” She glanced in the room and laughed sheepishly. She flicked the lights on with a magic snap.
“Tada-!” He stepped inside the room, he didn’t care to analyze how it looked. He turned back, hands already ready to close the door.
“Thank you! Thank you, little Miss Morningstar. I’m going to need,” he calculated, “…168 hours of sleep.” Both Charlie and Vaggi looked mildly horrified. He waved his one hand, the other gripping hard onto the door to steady himself. Slight divots formed in the wood. “Actually could you be so kind and lend me a TV Charger?”
“Uhm. I’m not sure we have anything for your...model.” Charlie cringed slightly, before looking confident and taking his hand. Vox tilted his head with his eyes squinted.
“Let me give you a taste of our hospitality. We aim to suit our guests' needs. We can order anything you need, or help with.. that? Really it would be my pleasure and I’m not leaving till I see you in better shape.” Vox's smile he’d been curating dropped ever so slightly to a look of repulsion.
“Very presumptuous, Princess.” He choked out. Charlie didn’t look phased.
He frowned and yanked back his hand, “Fine. I’ll help you by letting you help me.” He deigned to say as he stepped to the side. Charlie and Vaggi stepped in and Vox with one more look down the hall, seeing no other sinner, closed and locked the door.