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The first time they met, it was at a bar. Vox’s day had been nothing short of exhausting. She was trying to make a name for herself as an overlord, with little success. She owned souls, sure, but found them somewhat noncompliant. Her charisma didn’t get as far in the underworld as it had in life, and it seemed that few people were star-struck enough by the appearance of a great television host in Hell to willingly sell their souls and comply with her every demand. Killing didn’t get her as far either, as souls just regenerated no more compliant than before after being useless to her for months.
The day she met Alastor, she’d tried going face-to-face in battle with another smaller overlord only to get beaten down and humiliated after an embarrassingly short battle. She was surprised the overlord didn’t finish her off, but it seemed he was satisfied with just leaving her to pick up her own pieces and scurry away. She found herself needing more than a couple drinks to recover. Luckily, the soft jazz music filtering into the ambiance of the bar as well as the booze in her system had begun to do wonders to numb the emotional and physical pain that remained from the fight. It was on her third drink that she noticed another patron walking into the bar who caused her jaw to drop.
Alastor, the known and feared Radio Demon, strode in with bravado and a sweeping glance at everyone in the establishment just to casually sit at the far side of the bar. Her dress and claws were covered in splotches of blood from some unlucky sinner, yet she still managed to look as put-together as always. No one was brave or stupid enough to sit around her, but plenty of glances were immediately tossed her way. A couple sinners quietly fled, obviously not wanting to get in the demon’s way.
Vox couldn’t believe her eyes. What was the Radio Demon doing at some old crappy bar? Vox knew that she preferred to stay old-fashioned, but she had to assume there were better vintage bars somewhere around Hell. Vox herself was here only because she knew someone with such little power as her would be mocked at a better bar. Not that she hadn’t tried, several times actually, but the anger and shame she felt at being turned away from each one at the door had eventually overtaken her urge to be seen and respected. She had half a mind to leave like most of the other sinners in the bar, but her pride kept her seated. She would not be intimidated, even by the woman who was likely the most powerful sinner in all of Hell. She saw an opportunity, and she was never one to let those slip by. It might have been the slight buzz of alcohol talking, but what was the worst that could happen? The Radio Demon had a habit of seeing most other overlords as her prey, but Vox was sure she could talk her way out of getting eaten. She’d always been able to in life.
Approaching the empty side of the bar, Vox sat down as confidently as she could muster and spoke, to the bartender rather than Alastor, “Her drinks are on me today.”
The Radio Demon raised an eyebrow. She didn’t seem immediately upset, which was good, but rather curious, which could be dangerous. The bored expression on her face had faded into one of slight interest and her ears perked up slightly.
“And who might you be?” The demon asked.
“My name is Vox.” She puffed out her chest as she spoke with bravado, trying to exude confidence. It seemed not to entirely work, as Alastor’s expression changed to amusement, but at least she’d managed to amuse the Radio Demon! That was far more than most sinners could say.
“Vox, what a funny name! What’s that bulky thing you’ve got as a head? I imagine it’s quite uncomfortable.” Alastor responded.
Did she not know what a television was, or was she playing dumb? The woman was impossible to read. Vox supposed the deer demon had arrived in Hell early enough that she wouldn’t have seen them in life, and so it seemed that Vox’s efforts to spread the technology around Hell weren’t yet successful enough to have alerted the higher overlords. Even if Alastor was playing ignorant, Vox supposed it couldn’t hurt to explain.
“Oh, it’s a television! They’re a new technology, and the marvel is that they can transmit both audio and video at the same time. I suppose you died before they got popular, but they’ve become the next big thing. I’ve even started producing them in Hell. Not that radio could ever be replaced! I’m sure your medium will stay popular for a long while yet.”
Vox wasn’t sure, actually, as by the time she’d died radio had begun to fade in popularity. She wasn’t about to tell that to the overlord of radio technology, however.
“Hmm,” Alastor responded, “How fascinating! I’d inquire what one is doing as your head, but I suppose no one’s bodies here are quite what they’d like.”
Now that was a backhanded compliment if Vox had ever heard one. Maybe the Alastor didn’t like her as much as she’d hoped. She wondered for a moment if it was time for her to count her losses and just leave before she became a voice on Alastor’s next broadcast, but before she was able to leave some money for Alastor’s drink (which she still hadn’t even ordered, was this woman even at the bar for alcohol at all?) and get out of the way, she was faced with an inquiry.
“Would you like to dance with me, Vox? It’s been quite a while since someone could keep up with me, but you seem ambitious enough to learn.”
“A dance?” Vox asked, “But we’re both women. Isn’t that a bit… improper?” She’d been asked to dance by plenty of men in her time, some appealing, others far from it, but never another woman. She wasn’t even sure who would take which role!
The Radio Demon was quick to respond, “Certainly not! A dance can be shared between any company. Besides, do you think the bar we’re in is the type to judge?”
Alastor had a point there. A more formal bar would have produced quite a few raised eyebrows at two women dancing together, but this one seemed not to care a lick what any customer was doing as long as the patrons were paying for what they ordered. Again, Vox found herself wondering what Alastor was doing there.
Though it still seemed indelicate, who was Vox to pass up an opportunity to dance with the Radio Demon? She was sure she could hold her own, having had plenty of practice during her life.
“I suppose a dance might be nice, why not?” Vox replied.
With that, Alastor took Vox’s hands and led her to an open area of the floor. It seemed Vox didn’t have to worry about what role she’d take, as Alastor immediately started to lead to the fast-paced song that filtered through the bar’s jukebox. She placed one of Vox’s hands around her shoulder and raised her other, still interlocked with Alastor’s own, up to a height near their shoulders. They took a few steps to the right before Alastor nudged Vox’s hand off her shoulder and let her twirl away in a swingout. Vox felt herself unwinding and leaning into the rhythm of the dance.
“Where did you learn the Jitterbug?” Vox asked.
“Jitterbug? I do believe we’re doing the Lindy Hop.” Alastor responded. How odd. Vox hadn’t heard of a Lindy Hop, but she was sure she knew the moves they were doing as they swept across the floor.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter much, a rose by any other name smells just as sweet..” Alastor didn’t seem phased. She also didn’t answer Vox’s question. “Now I must ask, what made you choose to approach me today? I find that few sinners have the guts to do so, even before I rip them out.”
It was now or never, Vox supposed, “I’m actually an overlord myself. Nowhere near the likes of you of course, but I’ve been trying to make a name for myself. You’re so successful, I figured I might be able to learn something from you.”
“Interesting. Most overlords whom I meet with don’t come out of our interactions able to apply anything they’ve learned. In fact, they don’t come out of our interactions at all. What’s stopping me from simply devouring you?”
Of course Vox had heard about how the Radio Demon would attack overlords, causing them to never be seen again. This wasn’t an attack though, was it? The interaction they’d had seemed relatively friendly so far, even if Alastor’s face and actions betrayed no emotions.
“Well you could, but I don’t think you’d get much fun out of me. You hadn’t even heard of me, which I guess goes to show how little power I have,” it hurt Vox to admit, but she was sure getting eaten by the Radio Demon would hurt more, “Besides, didn’t you just say you haven’t had a good dance partner in a while?”
Alastor laughed at that, a sound that might have chimed like bells before it came out rough and garbled through the radio filter that seemed ever present over her voice. Vox thought it sounded beautiful.
Alastor pulled Vox into a tuck turn, holding her close against her body, though not quite touching as much the dance move would usually require. “Hmm, well I suppose for now you are quite entertaining alive,” she muttered in her ear, before tossing her away just as quick as she’d pulled her in. Alastor seemed to revel in the shocked expression that danced across Vox’s face.
The pair danced well into the early hours of the morning, ignoring the shocked glances of the other bar guests. By the end of the night, Vox had forgotten all about her failures as an overlord as her entire mind began to revolve around Alastor. What did the deer demon want from her? She wasn’t naive enough to think the Radio Demon would seemingly befriend her to no benefit of herself, but she couldn’t figure out what Alastor’s true goal was. As they continued to dance, her suspicion gradually faded away into joy. She’d managed to get in with the Radio Demon and survived! Surely she’d become a proper overlord now. Maybe, she thought foolishly, she’d even get something more along the way.
________
Vox hadn’t realized how lonely she was until she met Alastor. One chance meeting at the bar had turned into semi-regular get-togethers, and slowly, Vox thought, they seemed to grow closer. Days that Vox had once spent brooding and ruminating about her lack of power had turned into chats with the Radio Demon as they strode down the streets of Hell. She considered them to finally be friends only after several long months of sharing nearly every detail about herself while Alastor stayed tight-lipped.
Their meetings had started very infrequently. With no true way of consistently contacting each other, they’d only talk when they ran into each other, often at the bar and occasionally along the streets of Hell. Vox would say it was a random coincidence when they met outside of the bar, but she’d been tracking Alastor’s usual movements the best she could to maximize her chances of meeting the deer demon. She wasn’t sure if Alastor had caught on (if she was being honest with herself, she knew the deer demon definitely had), but she hadn’t been eaten yet, so she’d say it was a success.
Her adventures as an overlord had become more fruitful as well. She still wasn’t anywhere near even deluding herself into believing she was close to the level of Alastor, nor even powerful enough to be known by most of the greater overlords, but under the Radio Demon’s guidance she’d learned how to make her souls more compliant. With her new underlings’ help, she’d even managed to start her own company, Voxtek. She mainly sold televisions, hoping to bring more modern technology to her new world, but hoped to start creating and starring in more regular programming soon as well. It felt good to be back in a job close to the one she had in life. Her escapades as a television host had eventually killed her then, but she could feel that this time would be different. No longer did she have to drag her way up to the top by tooth and nail and the blood of her higher-ups. This time, she was the creator of something entirely new, at least in the eyes of Hell.
Vox wasn’t thrilled to keep visiting the run-down bar she’d met Alastor in, as she’d gained enough power to be easily let into some higher-end bars for more powerful sinners, but Allie always refused to grace those spots with her presence, no matter how often Vox asked. The old bar seemed to be her favorite, for whatever reason, and it was only there that she’d consider meeting up with Vox by request. That, begrudgingly, turned it into Vox’s main bar as well, and she’d often end up there after a successful soul deal or breakthrough with Voxtek.
Life was going well for Vox and she was in good spirits, which was why she was the one to invite Alastor to dance the next time they met at their bar. It was a rainy day, and the bar had plenty of patrons inside. A normal demon might not have had the room for a true dance. However, Alastor cleared the area around her with the sheer presence of her power. It sent a shiver up Vox’s spine, one no longer of fear, but of envy and pleasure.
“Would you care to dance with me, Alastor?” She asked, holding out a hand.
“But of course!” Alastor replied without hesitation, taking Vox’s hand and allowing herself to be pulled onto the dance floor.
It seemed that Vox had impressed or at least satisfied Alastor with her dancing skills, as she’d been allowed to dance with the deer demon several times since their first meeting. She wasn’t perfect on every move, but she never stepped on Alastor’s toes or become completely lost.
Vox chose to lead this time with a fast-paced jive to match the rock that echoed throughout the bar. The dance wasn’t one Alastor knew well, having become most popular after her death, but Vox had learned that she was quick to catch up and never hesitated or fumbled in her movements. Even as Vox led, she could tell Alastor was the one truly in control. When she danced, Vox danced. When she stopped, Vox stopped. It would be infuriating coming from any other person, but Alastor was beginning to feel different.
Alastor was mesmerizing in her confidence, and Vox found herself watching more than dancing as the Radio Demon moved. As she kicked and spun the long skirt of her dress flowed gracefully around her like linens billowing in gusts of wind. The skirt hitched up enough during a few moves that Vox could see her legs, strong and lithe like her arms. Alastor’s entire body was perfect for dance, her slender figure cutting strong shapes into the room with each move. Her face was what Vox really focused on, though. When she was dancing, her expression faded from the sharp-edged smile she usually wore to something softer, warm around the edges. It reached her eyes, which glowed with something not quite akin to mirth (Vox wasn’t sure the demoness was even capable of feeling such soft emotions), but perhaps amusement. She glowed in the dim lighting of the bar, and it was an incredible thing to watch. Vox was so transfixed that she hardly recognized Alastor’s expression shift to inquisitive as she nearly missed a step.
“What’s the matter, Vox? You seem to have something on your mind.” Alastor asked. Her tone wasn’t necessarily gentle, but it lacked the dangerous, sharp edge she tended to use when talking to other sinners.
Vox’s mouth seemed to move before she could think. “Victoria.”
“What was that, Vox?”
“My real name is Victoria Whittman. That’s what I went by in life. I really only changed it down here to sound more powerful. Victoria is such a weak name, don’t you think?”
Vox wasn’t sure quite what had prompted her to give her true name. She volunteered plenty of information without Alastor requesting it, but everything she gave up was in some way strategic. She’d let Alastor know that she’d been a television host so the deer demon would understand her goals in bringing television to Hell. She’d mentioned how she wasn’t fond of men treating her as lesser than and how she’d refused to marry in life to bribe a sense of camaraderie. Her name wasn’t strategic, but it felt right to share. She’d seen a side of Alastor that seemed so genuine, so far from what normal sinners would ever see, that it only felt right to share something vulnerable in return.
“Well, I think Victoria is quite a nice name! It suits you.” Alastor replied after a moment of thought. Vox felt cyan blush creeping onto her screen, and that blush only increased with the next words that came out of Alastor’s mouth, “You may call me Allie if you’d like.”
Vox’s digital eyes instantly widened to take up most of her screen. Had Alastor really, for once, given Vox a snippet of herself in return for the television demon’s sharing? She waited for an explanation, not knowing exactly what to say. Perhaps close friends had called her Allie up in the living world, or maybe it was a more casual name for other overlords?
It seemed Alastor wasn’t keen to elaborate, simply taking another step and continuing the two’s dance. As thick silence grew between them, Vox reached for a response.
“Of course, Allie!” Perfect. Just a casual response that anyone would give when learning a friend’s nickname and definitely wasn’t freaking out about it. Vox remained tempted to ask for the reasoning behind the nickname, but didn’t dare to push her luck. The Radio Demon was an incredibly private sinner, and it seemed that every tiny detail she shared about herself had to be earned with hours of labor. Being allowed to call the great Radio Demon by a nickname had to mean something! Vox almost wondered if it meant more than it seemed, if a nickname was as intimate to Allie as Vox’s true name was to her. If her reason for sharing was rooted in a deeper feeling of connection. She banished that thought immediately. How improper it was to think of another woman like that! Still, she couldn’t help herself from continuing to stare at Allie, in a purely platonic way, of course!
As they continued to dance, Vox realized how perfectly their bodies fit together. With the way Vox’s sharp edges were polished out by Allie’s smooth lines and how Allie always made room for Vox’s boxy head against her shoulder, it was like they were made for each other.
“You know, I quite like dancing with you Allie,” Vox whispered, just loud enough for Allie to hear without alerting the other patrons of the bar, even though it seemed many had grown quite used to them over the past few months.
“I quite like dancing with you too, Victoria,” Allie replied.
_______
Vox’s nerves were getting the better of her. Today was the day, she had decided. She was going to propose a true partnership with Allie, taking their relationship both professionally, and, Vox hoped, personally, to another level. She’d networked and labored for years to get to her current point of power, and she finally felt powerful enough to be near Alastor’s level of influence.
Voxtek products were quickly sweeping across Hell. Vox’s televisions had become a staple in most homes, and her programming was known among most sinners in Hell. Most importantly, she was finally at the top, bowing to no one else. She had no executive towering over her, no CEO to bow to, she didn’t even consider herself to be a subordinate of Allie anymore. Sure, maybe Allie had been a bit of a mentor for a few years, but now they worked together in tandem, radio and video intertwining and making places for each other in their mediums.
Hell certainly knew of their relationship. If not from the rumors that had been spread around for years, the shoutouts they gave to each other on air would certainly have informed them. Some even thought their relationship went deeper than friendship, which made Vox’s heart flutter. It still felt wrong, in a way, but when Allie smiled and laughed with her it was difficult to see what was so terrible about it. Allie was smiling softly in the bar that day, humming along to the music.
Vox and Allie had bought the bar years ago. It was now staffed entirely by souls they owned and the music it played was by recommendation of Vox and Allie only. As such, it tended to mainly play classics of the 20’s and 30’s unless Vox was able to sneak in a few more modern hits. The TV demon had suggested only allowing certain sinners who truly respected and were on a similar level to them in, but Allie had denied the suggestion. It seemed she wasn’t interested in making a bar exclusive for whatever reason, which occasionally led to unsavory encounters with sinners who were bold and stupid enough to challenge one or both of the overlords. Luckily, those souls were quickly dealt with.
That day in the bar, there were no unruly minor overlords or groups in the bar, just weak, lonely sinners looking to drink and chat and pointedly avoid acknowledging the presence of the two powerful media overlords unless directly addressed. Vox almost wished it wasn’t the case; If there was anyone willing to challenge her or Allie, maybe she could get rid of some of her nervous energy. Instead, she found her foot tapping on the sticky ground and her claws clicking against the wooden bartop as she sat, trying to garner enough courage to ask the single question that had been in her mind for months. She hoped Allie didn’t notice her display, but the deer demon had always been able to read her like a book.
“You seem quite energetic today, Vox!” Vox was sure they both knew that wasn’t all it was, but it seemed Allie had chosen not to pry her open today. “Say, would you like a dance to help calm yourself?”
Allie strode over to an empty area of the floor. Any sinners who remained overly close to her quickly skittered away with the sharp glare Allie sent their way before she turned to Vox, who quickly joined her. The Radio Demon wasn’t fond of being turned down in any of her offers, not that Vox would ever consider refusing a dance with her.
Allie led her into a slow swing. Vox tried her best to keep her attention on the dance, counting 1 and 2, 3 and 4, 5, 6, in her head to the beat and allowing Allie’s movements to guide her along. Still, she found her mind drifting more than once, from the dance over to Allie. Allie, with her hands holding Vox with a grace and delicacy fitting of a proper woman, not a demon in Hell. Allie with her graceful movements so different from the violent, harsh battle attacks she was known for.
Allie was truly gorgeous, anyone could see it. Her hair always hung in a perfectly curled bob and her dresses were always pristinely ironed and hugged her figure with modesty. As she danced and spun and fought and killed she made every movement seem as natural as breathing. Maybe the most beautiful thing about her was how effortless it all was. Makeup hardly graced her face, yet her tawny skin was perfectly smooth and even. When the blood of her enemies and subordinates splashed across her it always fell artfully, staining her clothes into a decorative painting.
Deep down, Vox knew her feelings for Allie went deeper than platonic. The way her heart leapt around her, the blush that would come up on her screen when Allie leaned a bit too close, the constant urge for something more, there was nothing else it could be. Vox knew it was something to be ashamed of, but around Allie she just lost all control. She couldn’t keep her eyes from straying towards Allie’s lips, nor her body from constantly shifting closer to the woman. Even dancing, she focused on the feeling of her hand holding Allie’s, those long claws that had torn countless demons apart resting delicately against hers.
In her stupor at Allie’s perfection, Vox missed a triple step. Fumbling briefly, she tightened her grip against Allie’s hand and shoulder. She recovered quickly, as always, but Allie noticed. She always did.
Shrugging Vox’s hands off, Allie spoke. “Perhaps now isn’t the time for dancing. Your mind seems to be somewhere else at the moment. How about we go for some drinks instead?”
Vox didn’t want that. She wanted to keep dancing with Allie, pushing off the conversation she knew she had to start. When they danced, time slowed around them and nothing else mattered. All Vox needed to focus on was being in tune with Allie’s every movement, reacting and responding as if they were a single body. When it ended, the veil around them shattered and all the issues of Vox’s life in Hell came back to her.
Paying no mind to Vox’s internal conflict, Allie led her back to their spot at the bar, secluded and near the edge, the exact spot Vox had spotted Allie in during their first ever meeting. Ordering them both a whiskey, Allie allowed Vox a moment to drink before she inquired.
“Now, would you like to tell me what’s going on in that picture box head of yours? You’ve looked to be on the brink of telling me something all day, and I’m not fond of waiting.”
This was her chance. Vox knew it was likely the only one she’d get before Allie got bored with her and left to go murder some helpless sinners. She’d planned what she was going to say for weeks, it was time to put her practice to work.
“It’s just, I’ve learned so much from you Allie. You’re inspiring, really! And when you think about it, modern entertainment actually started with radio,” Vox began. Stroking the Radio Demon’s ego, she’d learned, was a surefire way close to her heart. As she babbled on about how their respective mediums interacted and built off of each other, she could see Allie growing more receptive to the conversation.
A minute later, her proposal still seemed to be going well. Allie’s ears were relaxed and a gentle smile danced across her face as she looked on in amusement and traced her finger across the edge of her shotglass. A part of Vox wanted to keep procrastinating, talking about nothing to continue seeing her friend in such a calm and peaceful state. Another part reminded her that as long as her proposal went well, she’d be able to see that emotion far more in the future.
Vox couldn’t put it off for any longer, she just had to ask. What was the worst that could happen?
“We’ve been close for a few years now, right?…”
_____
It only took a few days. A few days after Vox had left the bar humiliated and alone was all that she needed for her embarrassment to turn into rage. How could Alastor have laughed her off, pretended that their years of friendship meant nothing? How could she have abandoned her?
Vox thought she’d learned to read Alastor’s body language. In her subtle glances and softer smiles she’d thought she’d seen some sort of connection, if not romantic then at least a friendship. It seemed that she had been wrong. She couldn’t stand being wrong. Even more than that, she couldn’t stand losing her power. She’d worked so hard over the past few years building up her brand only for what felt like her entire world to crumble down around her in a single conversation. And it was all because of Alastor.
Vox had stewed in that anger for days, still too ashamed to face Alastor again. Instead, she’d taken it out on her underlings, disemboweling more than a few of her lower performing TV hosts and marketing executives. She only stopped when she realized she was weakening her own brand.
Weak.
Alastor thought she was still weak. She thought Vox was an unworthy sinner too far from reaching her level to even be seen as an ally.
Vox would show her. She was no less cunning or strong or powerful than Alastor, she just needed a chance to prove it. She needed to see Alastor again, to fight her and win, no matter what it took. Even if she had to battle Alastor a thousand times for it, she needed to win. Alastor clearly didn’t see her as a friend, so she would become her enemy.
The only issue was that Alastor didn’t seem to want to be found by Vox. She was still as active as always, constantly either broadcasting her torment of others herself or being caught as a stuttery blur on camera by one of Vox’s news stations. Yet every time Vox tried to approach her for a fight, she was already gone.That was what had led Vox back to her old methods of finding Alastor: memorizing her usual loops and following them around when she was active.
It took several days of this method to produce a result. As Vox strode around the busy streets of Hell all she saw were regular sinners, even though she’d arrived right when Alastor would usually be on a rampage. She must have picked the wrong spot again. She knew she couldn’t keep going for much longer. She had a company to run, after all, and absences when she was supposed to be on air or in meetings could only be excused so many times. Vox was almost ready to call it quits on her current search and get back to her actual job to continue growing her power, until she saw it.
A shadow of some random sinner demon in the crowd flickered, then started moving in a way its host definitely wasn’t. Vox watched as it shifted, then seemingly jumped to the shadow of another sinner, then another and another until it had made a full circle around her. There was only one demon in Hell she knew of who could do such a thing. It seemed Alastor had finally decided to show herself.
“Hey Alastor! I know you’re there. How about you stop being a coward and face me?” Vox yelled. Her sudden outburst startled the sinners around her, and at the mention of Alastor’s name many started to clear the area. Vox wondered why they wouldn’t do that for her.
“I was wondering when I'd see you again.” A radio-filtered voice echoed through the street. It still carried the same amusement Vox knew her for, yet instead of laughing with her like she had so many times in the past, Vox knew Alastor was laughing at her.
“So where have you been? Rethinking rejecting my offer?” Vox asked, filling her voice with boldness and confidence. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t keep the hint of bitterness from sneaking in as well. She hoped Alastor wouldn’t notice it, but of course she did.
“Why you don’t quite sound happy to see me, Vox!” She said in an almost condescending tone, “is this really because of our little conversation the other day? I can assure you I only said what I thought you already knew.”
“Fuck you! How could you say none of what we had ever meant anything!” Vox yelled back. There was no holding back her anger now, and she let it shine through her body and voice. Alastor should know she made a mistake by rejecting her.
Alastor only seemed amused, though her ears pinned back against her head, “If you thought there was something…more between us, that’s no fault of mine. I only ever engaged with you for the entertainment! Besides-”
Alastor was cut off by Vox’s fist flying by her head. She dodged with ease, yet Vox could see her tense up, physically preparing for the fight Vox knew it was time for.
“Now, Vox, is that any way to treat someone who helped you become as successful as you are today? You know you couldn’t win a fair fight against me, don’t you?”
Vox couldn’t stand listening to her voice. She couldn’t stand even looking at her. Her body began to move of its own volition, throwing attacks at Alastor. For her part, Alastor continued to keep up her facade of calm. She dodged every one of Vox’s moves, yet didn’t attack back. It almost looked like she was waiting for Vox to tire herself out and come groveling back to her. Every slight twitch of her lips and shuffle of her feet only infuriated Vox more. Eventually, she couldn’t take the one-sided fight anymore.
“Are you going to fight me like an overlord or are you just going to stand there?” Vox flew at her once again, and, making a decision, filled her outstretched hands with a burst of electricity. It wasn’t quite enough to kill, but it was certainly dangerous. Vox knew Alastor could see that as her eyes narrowed. The electric shock ended up hitting the ground as Alastor dissolved into shadow, only to reappear behind her with a much more threatening smile on her face than Vox had ever seen directed at her before.
“Oh, is that how things are going to be? Well then, my dear Victoria, let’s dance.”