Work Text:
EDIT (11:11 AM 1/12/26) : slight grammar correction “But you know what could we be instead?” --> "But you know what we could be instead?"
NOTE:
Italics = Narration
Quotes = Outer Dialogue
“You’re inspiring!”
Vox started as they sat at the counter near the corner of the bar, away from the other sinners and demons who were chatting it up. Alastor swirled his glass of whiskey idly, holding it by the rim as his slit eyes glanced at Vox.
“Really, when you think about it, modern entertainment actually started with radio!”
Vox explained excitedly. Alastor acknowledged the comment with a casual, low hum. Noticing this, Vox softened his features, rubbing the back of his TV head awkwardly.
“Ah... am I boring you with my compliments?”
“Mm... perhaps,” Alastor replied in a mellow tone, resting his head against the back of his hand.
Vox cleared his throat, a warm flush spreading across his digital face as he continued.
“Ah, well look... I—I'll just get to the point.”
Vox scooted closer, moving to the seat directly next to Alastor.
“We’ve been close for a few years now, right?”
“I mean, people know us. They love us.”
He gestured between himself and Alastor, emphasizing the influence they held over their fellow sinners.
“—And with new Overlords popping up every day... and before you hit me with the 'well, you're pretty new yourself!'—I know, okay? But I'm much more forward-thinking! So, it's in your best interest to hear me out, ya know?”
Alastor huffed softly in amusement and turned to him fully.
“I'm listening’, pal.”
He turned to the bartender, tapping his glass with the edge of his finger. The glass rang with a sharp clink.
“Barkeep, another whiskey?”
As the bartender went to pour the drink, Vox eyed him idly before looking aside in thought. His screen flushed a deeper blue as electricity started to lightly zap and twirl like smoke between his antennas.
Alastor flipped a coin to the bartender as the glass slid back to him, ice clinking against the side.
“So—I’ve been thinking, Alastor. With your incredible power—” He gestured to Alastor with a spark at his fingertips before gesturing back to himself. “—and my massive influence.” He laughed slightly in spite of himself, standing up as he found a sudden surge of confidence.
“We... would be unstoppable!”
He leaned toward Alastor, holding one of the other man's shoulders with slight giddiness while his free hand gestured toward imaginary titles in the air.
“Radio and Video! Me and you!”
He stepped back, throwing his arms wide as if presenting a grand prize.
“We could rule Hell! Together... as... as partners!”
He held his hand out to Alastor.
An opportunity.
A promise.
A possible future where two Overlords were no longer just a concept, but a force that the lowly masses would be powerless to stop.
Vox held his hand out, hoping Alastor—his dear, longtime friend, the first one he’d had since arriving here—would take it. But he didn't.
Alastor’s slit eyes widened as they glanced at the hand. His brows furrowed as he looked from the palm up to Vox's expectant face. His unchanging grin twitched. He looked down at the counter before his composure broke into a snicker, then a giggle, and eventually? A full-on laugh.
This poor...oh, he didn't know the situation he was in…
The deal…
Ṛ̸̐̅o̶͐ͅs̸͖̑́ȉ̸̲́e̷̼͓̋.̴͓̄͐ ̴̹̟͌͝Ŗ̶̎o̵̬̪̾̉s̵̹̳̏̊i̴̲͑̐e̶͈̓̾.̵͓̋̕ ̷͇͈̂̌Ȓ̶̠̈́o̷̧̺͂̉s̶͙̝͂̂i̸̟͛ë̷̢̗́͛.̸̰̂ ̷̰̼̀Ŗ̴͠o̴̥̫̎s̶̢̾i̷͙̕e̴̜̝͂
̵͐̇͜R̴̛̦͜ǫ̵̜̓͋s̵̱͋̋í̸̡͎e̶͉̓.̵͔͋ ̴̰͍̾R̴̖̺͗̈ȏ̸̪s̵͙͔̎̔i̷̯͚̔e̴͚͇͐̈́.̸͓͈̆ ̴̥͕̒R̴̜̦̒̾o̷̬̳̐s̸͇͍̒i̴̭̦̒͂e̷̥̭̊́.̶̠͛͜͠ ̸̥̟̄̕R̵̢̻͑ò̷̯̺̚š̵̘̱ḭ̶̦̀́ẻ̵̱.̴͖̻̍
̶̹̆͠R̶͔̥͌o̶̞͉͑s̴̀ͅi̴̹͒e̴̖͐.̶͔͇̎ ̷̨̜͛R̴̝͂o̷̢͑ș̶͒ḯ̷͉ḝ̷̳.̶̲̚ ̶̮̀Ṙ̴̗̏ô̸͔͈s̴̥̋i̷̜̦̇̀e̶̙̞͗́.̸̱͊͝ ̷̖͎͂R̷͔͝o̷͙̒͘s̶͙͚̽ì̷ͅè̶͓͖͠.̵̺̔
̵̤͝R̷͍̼̉ö̶̬s̴̗̝̾i̴̹̓͒ë̸̪́.̸̧̬̿͆ ̶͕̳́͒Ṛ̷̛͚ǒ̴̻s̶̲͚̈́̾ì̵̘̻͐e̵̪̫͐̒.̷̬̞̔̚ ̵̧̓Ŕ̵̯o̵̳͝s̶̯̏͠i̶͉̽ẽ̶̗͕̍.̶̟͎̈́̏ ̷͇͋͜R̶̯͝ò̴̡̰̀s̵̨̳̔ĩ̷̘̚ͅe̵͇͙̔̒.̷͚̗̑͗ ̵͓̆
“Ha…”
“Aha... hahaha... AHAHAHAHA!”
Vox’s smile dropped slowly, his hand falling as shock took over. His once-hopeful demeanor turned to soft confusion and hurt.
“Huh... what's... what's so funny?”
He tried to return the smile, unsure how to handle this development.
Alastor continued to laugh before calming himself down between heaving breaths.
“Inhale—oh! Oh my goodness, eheheh...”
He shook his head and rubbed his temple.
“Vincent, dear, oh, you crack me up.”
Vox blinked, tilting his head.
“W-what...? I... don't get it.”
Alastor finally calmed down and sighed, looking at Vox properly as he gestured for him to sit back down. Vox complied.
“Look, dear, you and I... it would not work—” Alastor started, putting a hand up to Vox's flat face before he could speak.
“Because you do not need me. I was beginning to think we were becoming equals. You, asking for my help? It is frankly pathetic.”
Vox's screen glitched slightly, a jagged line of static crossing his eyes as his expression twisted into pure hurt.
“I know you are stronger than this... you do not need my backing nor my partnership.” He lowered his hand and took a slow sip of his whiskey before placing the glass down with a delicate, deliberate click.
“I’d rather us stay friendly company. You are a good man, Vincent. I have no doubt you will exceed my expectations with your little... technology.”
Vox's initial sting of rejection slowly faded into a quiet sadness, though he nodded in an attempt to show he understood.
“So you... don't... want to rule together?”
“No,” Alastor bluntly stated, his grin never wavering.
“But you know what we could be instead?”
Vox looked up from his hands, which were trembling slightly in his lap. He looked at Alastor with a desperate, lingering hope.
“What?”
“Equal companions with our own territories. Two powers that respect one another’s boundaries... how does that sound, pal?”
Vox blinked. He looked back at his lap, the ache in his chest beginning to soften. Even though the rejection was a harsh blow to his ego, the idea of being Alastor's "equal" felt like a hard-won prize. He sighed, forcing a small smile as he met the Radio Demon's gaze.
“Yeah... that sounds great. Friend.”
“Perfect.” Alastor nodded, tapping the counter softly to catch the attention of the demon behind the bar.
“Barkeep? Two glasses of Rye.”
Vox’s eyes widened, a small, genuine giggle breaking through his nerves.
“Rye? Can't say I’ve ever had it before, even when I was alive.”
“No? Well, consider this your first taste of the finer things. My treat.” He winked playfully as the two glasses slid across the wood toward them.
Vox lifted his glass, a peace offering to seal the deal. Alastor glanced at the gesture in slight surprise, his own ears twitching.
“To our continued companionship.”
Alastor smirks, the shadows in the corner of the room seeming to settle as he lifted his own glass.
“To equals.”
Clink!
They downed the rye together. The liquid was sharp and smoky, burning with a heat that made Vox's processors whir. They set the glasses down in unison with a soft, satisfied “Haa.”
Just two friends out on an outing, enjoying the night.
Vox wondered, though... as he watched the amber liquid swirl at the bottom of his glass... what would the present be like if they had been more? Would that had ended badly? Would've they been…enemies? He hates that thought. His eyes squint in slight discomfort to his own thoughts as he swirled the liquid with ice reflecting his contemplative face.
As they shared their drinks for the night and got back into conversation, Alastor’s eyes shifted. Just for a moment—just a little—they looked a bit regretful. Maybe even a little bit sad for the first time in a while.
What would have been the past that could've been?
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End.