Work Text:
It's all three of them, sometimes.
Valentino will spin out of control, high on fury and fentanyl every time one of his newest flings stops being interesting; Velvette will never stop finding ways to burn off more of her humanity, leaving it to them to help restring her joints and scrape the bloodied remains of her models off the floor.
(Everything is a resource.)
When you view it like that, Vox’s situation isn't that unusual.
It's not the first time the world has gone bright around the edges for him, bright like wax wings burning.
They'll forgive him.
They will.