Chapter Text
Vox’s severed head is propped up precariously against a lamp on his office desk. The angle makes him shorter than he was and it drives him crazy.
It’s the only place he physically exists anymore and the word ‘Hell’ has truly never been more applicable.
Sure, Vox has access to every screen in Vee Tower and cycles through them endlessly in his boredom, but Velvette and Valentino have assured him he won’t get a body back until he’s ‘earned’ it, whatever the fuck that means.
It’s not like Vox hasn’t been trying. He’s made his apologies, he’s been diligently working in the background out of the limelight like a dog. And still it’s not enough for them.
What’s he supposed to do? Go back in time and not have a manic episode?
Vox looks dully around what he can see of his office, staring blankly at the screens that display his own face. He wants to punch it, though not out of any sense of self-awareness. The worst part is truly the boredom and the other two have been brushing him off every chance they get.
Vox tsks to himself as he reaches his understimulation breaking point and decides to give Valentino a call. The call symbol comes up on his monitor and he proverbially crosses his fingers that Val doesn’t just send him to voicemail as he’s apt to do now.
ring, ring, riiiiing
There’s always been an on again off again element to his relationship with Valentino and right now it is definitely off again. Valentino had made it clear if Vox wanted to emphasize the business side of their partnership, that’s exactly what they were gonna do. Which is mega bullshit.
ring, ring, riiiiing
Beep.
”Heeeeeeeey slut, this is Valentinooooooo. I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m busy having too much fun.
God dammit, it’s his voicemail.
“Leave a message or don’t, I don’t give a fuck! And if this is Vox, sit and spin.”
Beep.
“Valentino you piece of shit! Answer the phone, I know you’re there–”
Easy now. Time to reel Val back in.
“--probably doing really important things. Give me a call when you get a chance, won’t you, superstar?”
Yeah, Valentino isn’t calling him back.
Vox hangs up and sulks. It’s not faaaaaair.
Valentino can have tantrums every day, but when Vox has one that destroys part of Pentagram City–
A notification pops up on Vox’s screen and he eagerly opens it.
It’s a picture of Valentino with a hot slut on all four arms. It’s accompanied by a text that says,
I’m ignoring you<3
Vox deletes it, scowling.
His eyes move over towards the tank, watching as one of his sharks swims past, then out of view. Vox feels so constrained he could scream.
Things can’t go on like this or he’s really going to lose it, only he has no power at the moment so it will be such a pathetic display he’ll have to actually kill himself.
There’s a sudden, sickly sweet memory of how it had felt at the peak of his strength and Vox misses it like a drug.
With everything that has happened Vox has been banished from the public eye while the brand is revamped, slashing him significantly from it. He understands the necessity but it stings and he feels weak.
He’s lucky everything is filmed through cameras with his sigil, granting him some power, but at this rate it’s going to take an eternity to get back to where he was before.
Oh it all went south so quickly.
If only there was a shortcut to success.
Vox isn’t sure how long he sulks like that before he receives another text from Valentino. It has another picture attached.
It’s of Valentino with four new hot sluts on his arms.
“Aaaahh!” Vox cries in frustration, deleting that one, too.
Vox shuts down all the screens in his office but the one on his monitor and prepares to wait out the rest of his miserable existence trapped like a rat in a cage.
Fuck Val, fuck Vel. This is donkey shit and they know it.
—
“I said ‘brocade.’ Does this look like a fucking brocade to you?”
Velvette holds up the fabric offered to her by her very stressed looking intern. The poor girl looks like she’s going to puke, but she knows better. Velvette will kill her.
“It rips like chiffon and the pattern looks like raw meat. Are you trying to insult me?”
The intern stammers and stutters out her excuses, but Velvette isn’t having it. She continues to berate her over the sounds of the intern’s sniveling.
“You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood, or else I’d–”
Velvette’s phone buzzes and the compulsion to check it takes over everything else. Velvette loves her goddamn phone. She tugs it out then rolls her eyes. It’s Vox.
She sends it to voicemail.
“Ugh. Anyway, like I was saying–”
The phone vibrates again and Velvette scowls down at the little image of Vox calling. What does this piece of shit want? She sends it to voicemail again.
He immediately calls again and this time Velvette gets pissed. She picks up the call and snaps, ”What do you want??”
“Veeeeelvette,” Vox starts in a schmoozing tone and she reaches up to click out of the call.
The fucker starts moving the end call button around, his dumb face scowling on her screen. “Don’t fucking click on my face like you can just get rid of it!”
Then he has the audacity to whine, “I’m bored.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Velvette tells him honestly, still trying to tap the button to end the call.
“You don’t understand what it’s like to be trapped in a digital space!” Vox complains like he has any right to.
“Yeah,” Velvette brings the phone closer to her face so she can stare Vox down. “And you don’t know what it’s like to be forced to work twice as hard because your dickbag partner went and tried to blow up the entirety of Hell over his ex. Oh, I’m sorry. Not ex.”
“Damn, Velvette.”
This little–
“No, damn you, Vox. You’re lucky that we have a brand left,” Velvette threatens. “Val’s been killing it, by the way. You should be so grateful.”
“Yeah I know,” Vox insists and Velvette wonders does he, does he really? “But it’s not like Val is even talking to me right now.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” Velvette says as scathingly as possible.
”I know! But I hate not being involved in things! Please, Vel, I’m begging you!” Vox pleads like a pathetic little worm and Velvette can’t help but lift up her shoe to stomp on him.
“Aw, you’re doing great on the paperwork though, sweetie,” she coos mockingly. “I thought you loved spreadsheets.”
“I do, but not when I’m being forced,” Vox laments in his stupid voice.
“Good,” Velvette says. “Good, I’m glad you’re suffering.”
“Fuck you, Velvette.”
Velvette hangs up on him and silences her phone, putting it in her pocket.
“Unbelievable,” she says.
Then Velvette looks up at the intern who’s standing there with her shitty fabric looking pale and frozen. Oh right, this bitch is still here.
”Where the hell is my brocade!?” Velvette roars.
Everyone in the room panics and she feels a little better.
Whatever. Vox can eat his own ass, she’s got actual shit to take care of.
—
Vox fumes to himself, bouncing from one screen in his office to another. He can’t believe Velvette seriously hung up on him again.
His mind spins in circles until he thinks he’s going to lose it and Vox sends another message reeking of desperation to Valentino only for it to go ignored.
It deepens Vox’s pout.
Maybe he made this bed but he sure as fuck doesn’t want to lie in it. Vox has never been one to swallow the pill that is the consequences of his own actions.
You go a little kooky and almost kill everyone and yourself and suddenly you’re in the doghouse forever. Typical, just typical.
It’s enough to drive Vox to desperate measures, but being so limited he doesn’t even know what those would be.
In the meantime there’s nothing to do but pace around the screens like one of his pets.
—
The next time Vox is able to get in contact with Velvette and Valentino it’s because he bamboozles them by waking them up with a call right before their alarms are supposed to go off. They both ignore him, but Vox is convinced it’s something subliminal that makes Velvette answer at breakfast.
Vox pops up on her phone, calling out of courtesy rather than an inability to appear when he pleases.
“Goooood morning to the most beautiful doll in Hell,” Vox flatters. She grunts in disgust and he quickly rushes on, “Don’t hang up!”
Velvette sighs at him. “What do you want, you piss baby?”
“What, I’m not allowed to give you a good morning call? Huh?” Vox fears he’s losing her.
“No,” Velvette says. “You’re fucking not. What do you want?”
Vox opens his mouth to stall her, but notes movement in the background.
“Is that Val?” He quickly turns his full attention to the cameras in the kitchen. Sure enough, Val has entered the room and is refilling his bong. “Val!”
Valentino ignores him.
“Val, I can see you, I know you’re there!” Vox accuses. He’ll get this fucker to respond to him one way or another. He changes tactics. “Vaaal, looking gorgeous, doing a little wake and bake?”
“Tell him I’m ignoring him,” Valentino says.
“He’s ignoring you,” Velvette grins.
“Well he shouldn’t be so I could tell him what a good job he’s- Val, you’re doing great, babe!” Vox calls over to him. He is ignored as Valentino takes a hit off his bong.
“Ew, Val, don’t do that in here!” Velvette looks pissed. “My clothes are gonna smell like weed for the perfume event. That’s like, the one place I care if I smell like weed.”
“Just change them. It’s not like it’s hard for you,” Valentino brushes off. “I don’t care if I smell like weed at the perfume event.”
”Wait, wait, you’re going out somewhere? You’re hanging out without me?” Vox asks with betrayal. They hadn’t even told him about it.
“Damn right we are,” Velvette says. “Be grateful you have a tower to exist in.”
“Yeah, you could just be wandering the streetlamps,” Valentino says behind her. “And it’s not like you can smell anything.”
“Yeah well-!” Vox tries to think of something to keep Valentino’s attention, but comes up blank.
“Come on,” Vox decides to dispense with all this bullshit and get down to business. “I need to talk to you two about something important.”
Velvette raises a brow at him, looking like she barely, just barely holds back the urge to bat him down. He can see on her face that she thinks maybe, maybe there’s something Vox has to say that’s worth hearing. He’s banking on her emotional investment in him.
“What,” Velvette says flatly.
got her
“I understand that I caused a lot of trouble for the two of you and it’s been an ongoing headache to deal with the fallout from my egregious actions,” Vox begins his spiel.
Velvette stares blankly. Valentino takes another hit off the bong.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I…”
Vox sighs.
“I really want a body, I really want a body, come on you assholes–!” Vox can’t help it. He loses his cool a little tiny bit. ”God dammit, I can’t take one more second of being so goddamn cooped up and bored–”
Suddenly Valentino is in the phone screen.
“You pulled out the maracas twice,” he hisses, shoving an accusing finger at Vox and smudging the screen.
“And I addressed that in my ‘I’m Sorry’ powerpoint presentation!” Vox cries insistently.
“That presentation was bullshit!” Valentino snarls. “You didn’t even use any of the fun effects or anything!”
“Damn right it wasn’t a good enough fuckin’ apology,” Velvette puts Vox in his place. “You should stew in your fucking feelings about it and frankly you’re lucky we didn’t kick you to the curb!”
Vox immediately sulks.
“Come on,” he insists. “We’ve all gotten a little deep in the psychosis. And there’s just no pleasing that voice in your head egging you on. And sometimes it sounds like your father, but we don’t unpack that.”
“Amen to that,” Val says, raising his bong like it’s a drink.
Velvette is unimpressed. “See, this is why you are not helping out with business stuff right now. Until we know you're not trying to please Daddy–”
“Hey, now,” Vox says.
”--you are allowed to do the tasks you have been assigned, period. Nothing else.”
Dammit.
“Okay but, like, maybe…” Vox trails off.
They’re both still glaring at him.
“Maybe I could still have the body though, come on guys!”
Velvette and Valentino look at each other and Vox can tell they’re having a silent conversation about whether or not Vox has done his time. The prognosis is looking grim.
They look at him at the same time and both say,
“No.”
“Come on, what the hell!” Vox is outraged.
“I’m gonna be real with you, Vox,” Velvette says. “The thing is…”
The two look at each other again.
“It’s just so funny,” Valentino says.
They both burst out laughing.
”Ugh. It’s not funny!” Vox yells, turning the volume up to one hundred.
Velvette turns it back down. “Don’t make us hang up on you.”
“Well, you know what?” Vox says. “Well. You know what??”
“What? The floor is yours, Vee.”
“I’m gonna get my own body by myself,” Vox declares. “By going around your backs.”
“Oh yeah, that’ll be really easy- oh wait, you can’t leave the tower.” Valentino blows out smoke. “What are you gonna do, baby, turn into one of your sharks? Swim through the sewer?”
“And another thing!” Vox yells. “It is not funny to tell my assistants not to acknowledge me. Do you know how much I yelled at that eel guy? He was sweating, I could see him sweating and he still didn’t acknowledge me, what did you threaten him with?”
Valentino laughs. “Don’t worry about it.”
”You just worry about getting those little spreadsheets done,” Velvette adds.
They both start laughing again.
“You don’t think I’ll do it!” Vox is so mad he can’t even think.
“What, betray us for your own benefit? Nooooo.” Velvette rolls her eyes. “You should just think of it as a vacation, god, take a break. You clearly need it.”
“Oh. Oh yeah. Just think of it as a vacation.” Vox blows up afresh. “There’s nothing to goddamn do here! I have nothing! Except for all the TV I can watch! But I can’t even be drunk or high!”
“Oh baby,” Val says in a voice dripping with sympathy. Drugs would be the way to get through to him.
“Oh baby nothing.” Velvette isn’t having it, but Val puts the mouth of the bong against the cell phone and it goes tink against Vox’s face.
“Yeah, it doesn’t work like that through phones,” Vox grinds out through gritted teeth.
Val scoffs and pulls the bong away, Velvette’s nose scrunches as she wipes at her screen. “Then I’ll give it to you when you’re in your stupid head, god, I was being nice.”
“This is why you’re not getting a body yet,” Velvette says. “This attitude right here.”
“This attitude! If either of you were down a body we’d see how much attitude you’d be giving!” Vox snaps.
“Yeah well we’re not stupid so we both still have our bodies!” Velvette spits venom and Vox’s mouth pulls into a sharp frown.
“Fine! You know what? I don’t care! You two just go and enjoy your little perfume event! I hope you get a migraine!”
“That’s just rude,” Valentino says mildly before taking another rip.
Vox hangs up on them.
Neither of them are taking him seriously!
Vox is on the verge of losing it but there’s just nothing to do with the feeling. He flits from camera to camera, looking through the tower for anything to distract him. He puts a movie on at the corner of his screen.
He’ll find a way. He has to because this right here isn’t working.
—
It’s the middle of the night when Vox becomes distantly aware that there’s someone in his office.
He’s been in sleep mode for the past few hours, a weird restive state that doesn’t quite constitute as sleeping, and coming out of it has him groggy. Is Velvette here to cut down his ego further? As she so delights in doing? Is Val–
Vox snaps out of his sleepy state with sudden realization and turns on his monitor, slipping into it from the nebulous digital space where he’d been watching The Matrix trilogy before falling ‘alseep.’
“Val,” Vox snaps. “You better have brought me indica because it is the middle of the night and if I smoke a sativa it is going to keep me wired for hours–”
It’s not Val.
Vox stares up in disbelief at–
”Alastor–”
The word is choked out by disbelief. Vox checks on every camera, but sure enough his stupid glitchy body is in every shot.
Alastor is standing in his office like a hallucination, a smear of red on the screens sneering down at his monitor like he just arrived at the garbage dump.
Alastor
Even if this is some sort of fucked up dream, Vox is in full alert mode. He quickly moves into every one of his office screens, all his faces glaring down at Alastor with equal parts fury and shock.
“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing your face here in the heart of Vee Tower!” Vox snarls. He knows he should trip security, but something like pride holds him back. Then, eloquently and sounding completely in control, he demands, “Why are you here?!”
“Why, Vox, I’m surprised you can’t guess,” Alastor says with that cocky, easy air that makes him seem like he didn’t get his ass beaten and the only reason he’s still in one piece is–
“I’m here to manipulate and use you, just like last time!” Alastor cries, gleeful and shitty.
Oh this son of a bitch.
“Oh, okay!” Vox says brightly. “Go right ahead! But before you do that, can you do me just a little fuckin’ favor? Can you put your finger into a live socket??”
Vox would kill Alastor himself if he could.
“I’m very busy with some important documents right now so–”
“Oh really?” Alastor chuckles, turning his back to Vox’s monitor and looking around at his different screens vaguely. “Demoted to accountant. And here I thought your team needed you.”
“Oh fuck you,” Vox spits. “Don’t make me sic Shok.wav on you.”
Vox sends out a signal and Shok.wav comes up to the office window, looming ominously. He’s just so cool. Alastor’s head turns and Vox thinks his sneer deepens.
“Ah yes, send your little pet after me again for all the good it’ll do you.” Alastor lifts his hands in a shrug like what can ya do. Pompous bastard. “Break the glass. Your office will flood and your little head–”
Alastor turns and reaches down, flicking the end of his claw against Vox’s screen with a loud tink,
“-will float off in the water and they’ll have to collect you. Maybe you’ll be mistaken for driftwood and never found.”
Vox scoffs.
“Besides,” Alastor continues. “If you do, you’ll never know what I have to say.”
And goddammit that’s definitely where he’s got Vox right where he wants him. Bored, inconsolable, the scraps of his former power sifting through his metaphorical fingers. And here is Alastor to light him up like a stage.
For a moment Vox consoles himself remembering Alastor tied up and in his clutches, but knowing how much he’d been played the whole time certainly puts a damper on those memories. As does knowing they’re gone and over with.
Vox grunts with exasperation but he sends another signal and Shok.wav backs away from the window. “I’m listening.”
Alastor’s low laugh makes Vox’s non-existent skin crawl. He twirls his staff like they’re two chums about to go paint the town red and tucks it behind his back.
“I’m here to make a deal.”
The words send ripples through Vox, then crash down over him so hard he’s sure if he had his body the shock would have blown his cock clean off.
“Oh.” Vox scoffs. Then scoffs again. ”Oh. Oh that’s rich. That’s ri–haha! Ha!”
Vox’s hypnotic eye fills every screen in the office.
“You’re coming to me asking for help?!”
“Not at all!” Alastor says cheerfully, starting to pace the office. He looks up into Vox’s eye on one screen, then another. “I don’t ask for help. I make deals. And you’re going to agree.”
“Oh, I’m going to agree, am I?” Vox huffs. “And after your last little stunt what makes you think I’d do that?”
Alastor’s grin widens.
“Oh fine, then!” he says, waving his hand and starting for the exit as if he walked into Vee Tower and is going to walk out. “It’s not ideal, but I make do.”
Oh, look at Alastor, pretending he’s just gonna leave. He’s trying to entice Vox. But Vox won’t fall for any of his bullshit.
“... wait.”
Alastor looks over his shoulder, all teeth.
“What’s in it for me?” Vox can’t help but ask.
Alastor’s smile splits his face. He turns, looking over his shoulder with his head at an unnatural angle, then ghosts back to the center of the office so that he’s sitting in Vox’s chair.
Alastor crosses his legs and leans back comfortably, tenting his fingers.
“You want your body back, don’t you?”
Fuck this lowlife jackass.
“Uh, and what makes you think I don’t have a new one?” Vox bluffs.
Alastor raises his brow at him. Then he shifts his leg and points with the sharp end of his shoe at Vox’s monitor, coming dangerously close and Vox imagines his heel going right through the screen.
“Why aren’t you in one right now?” Alastor asks innocently.
“Oh, go fuck yourself.”
“Oh yes, not to mention all your public appearances. Those other two really wisened up about you, didn’t they?” Alastor laughs, shaking his head. Then he kicks away from the table, sending the chair spinning. “They locked you away like an embarrassing lovechild!”
Vox tsks. Then he tsks again.
“Oh, don’t be so high and mighty,” Vox bats Alastor down. “We both know the psychosis would have won.”
“The what now?” Alastor stops spinning and pushes himself back to the desk, resting his elbows on it, his chin in his hand like they’re having a friendly chat.
“You should be grateful for Valentino,” Vox insists. “You’re lucky I have partners for as much as you shit on them. Because if Val and Vel had just dipped, your ass would have been just as eviscerated as mine!”
Alastor gives Vox a look like he’s a child throwing a tantrum and says in a simpering voice, “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Vox gapes as realization hits.
“You’re gaslighting me,” he says. “Oh my god, you’re gaslighting me.”
Alastor grins wider.
“I am taking a ‘How to Spot Manipulative Behavior’ course as part of my punishment and you are gaslighting me,” Vox insists.
“Vox, my man, I don't know the meaning of the word,” Alastor tells him, examining his nails. “Besides that doesn’t sound like something I would do.”
“You’re doing it right now and it won’t work!”
“What?” Alastor still isn’t looking at him. “Nooooo, nooo. It’ll work.”
“Listen,” Vox seethes from every screen. “You can try to frame this however you like, but that was at best a stalemate. You didn’t win.”
“Vox, I’m not here to talk about you,” Alastor fucks with him further. “Do you want to make a deal with me or not.”
Vox hems and haws but at the end of the day he has to know.
“My body in exchange for what?”
Alastor laughs once.
“You’ll be breaking into a certain home security network. Normally I’d blast through it with sheer force, but this requires a little subterfuge. You will reveal this to no one.”
Oh, and he can’t brag. This isn’t looking like a very good deal for Vox.
“Uh, well, if I say no, I can tell anyone I like, shithead.”
Alastor had better sweeten the fuck out of this deal just on principle. Instead, Alastor just laughs again.
“Yes, anyone. Who? No one is interested in what you have to say anymore. Your associates? Do you think they’ll want to hear that you’ve been chatting with the demon who humiliated you and almost made you destroy your entire brand?”
An ‘X’ displays on every one of Vox’s screens and he turns up the volume to max.
”SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!!”
Static screeches, but Alastor must put away his annoyance quickly because he says, “That’s what I thought.”
Vox is about to scream so hard he shatters the glass and releases Shok.wav anyway when Alastor adds, “Besides, you’re going to say yes.”
“A little cocky there, considering our last interaction,” Vox glares down at Alastor. “Sounds like a huge pain in the ass for something they’ll give me eventually anyway.”
“You really think so? With your attitude issues and everything?” Alastor leans down so his face is close to the monitor. “Think about it, Vox. It’s quality time with me.”
Vox hates it but he has him there.
Any warm feelings Vox may have once had for Alastor have long dried up, but the rivalry that had taken their place might as well be a chain around his neck. He hates him, oh he hates him, but even now Vox wishes he could trap Alastor there.
Alastor has the attraction of a black hole for Vox and it’s impossible not to get sucked in.
So Vox starts rationalizing.
Well it’s something to fucking do and he had declared that he would find a way to get a body behind their backs. They had laughed at him. He could show that not only can he get his own body back, but he can deal with Alastor and not get his ass manipulated like that again which will doubly show them what’s what.
“Clock’s tickiiiing,” Alastor chimes, leaning back in the seat away from Vox. “Whaaat, don’t want to go on a little adventure with me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Vox scoffs. “That being said,”
“Uh-huh.”
”That being said–”
“I’m listening,” Alastor interrupts again.
“Shut up– I’m talking now. If you want me to agree, I’m talking now.”
“Oh and you do like to talk, don’t you,” Alastor condescends like he’s a fucking kitten. “Must be hard with no one to listen!”
“Will you just state your stupid fucking terms already!” Vox yells, screen garbling.
“Oh, it’s my turn to talk again?” Alastor muses. “Excellent!”
Before Vox can holler at him further, Alastor elaborates.
“I am looking for a certain object held in a highly guarded area–”
“I’m gonna need more details than that, Mr. Wordplay,” Vox deadpans.
“I am looking for a certain object held in Lucifer’s estate–”
”Hold up,” Vox puts up another ‘X’ on his screens.
“-and considering the security system was designed by your company it should be a breeze to get through it. You will guide me through the stupidly labyrinthine system without being detected. Once I have the object then I will assist you in regaining a body. Again, you will not speak of it to anyone.”
Alastor wants to directly fuck over Lucifer? Normally, Vox would be thrilled. But Alastor barely got his ass saved and he’s going after the king of Hell now? Sort of? What?
As much as he wants to harp on that, Vox is a businessman at heart.
“As in you will help me get a physical fucking body and its not just some bullshit,” he confirms.
“Yes!” Alastor declares brightly. “A brand spanking new body that you can walk around in and it’ll have hands and everything. Limited time offer.”
Vox chews it over.
On one hand everything about this is definitely a bad idea and a bad deal and includes all the things he’s currently in trouble for. On the other hand, no one is taking him seriously and if he doesn’t get a goddamn body he is going to freak the fuck out.
And while seeing Alastor’s face fills him with white hot rage, unfortunately Alastor isn’t wrong about the rest of it either. With no power, what interest would Alastor even have in what remains of their rivalry-
Nope, he stops himself right there. No, that is definitely not what this is about. It’s about getting his body back and showing Valentino and Velvette he can handle this on his own. Without their shitty attitude.
Vox’s scathing rejection sits heavily on his tongue but he swallows it down.
“You realize I’m stuck in this tower, right? Being there would require you to operate a phone, have you ever– do you know what that is?”
“I can operate a telephone, Vox,” Alastor says flatly.
“No, no,” Vox laughs a little hysterically. “Not a ‘telephone,’ a smartphone. You’re going to have to use a screen.”
Alastor stares Vox down and he genuinely has no idea if the bastard can use a damn phone.
“My mechanical ineptitude is not as dire as you think.” Alastor sounds a little annoyed and haha fuck you. “Do we have a deal?”
Trepidation mounts as Vox considers whether or not he’s actually going to do this, despite knowing his answer already. The logical, sound part of his mind says this is stupid.
But he just wishes he could touch something.
Drink some goddamn coffee for fuck’s sake.
“It’s a deal.”
Alastor’s smile widens to a snarl that matches his shadow on the wall. Vox glances at it with distaste, but it’s a good go-to to read Alastor’s real emotions. Not that Vox needs to see to know he’s gloating.
“It’s a deal,” Alastor parrots.
But nothing happens. No lightshow indicating that the deal has been struck.
Oh, right.
Alastor’s expression has gone blank and Vox can tell he’s not sure how to make the deal official if they can’t shake hands.
Vox huffs. “You have to use the computer.”
Alastor looks at it doubtfully. “The computer.”
“Yes! You see that little device? The little round device there?” Vox instructs sarcastically. “That’s called a mouse. Don’t get scared, old man. It won’t bite!”
Alastor looks down at the mouse then back up at Vox like he doesn’t believe him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I need you to put your hand on it and you’re going to move physically and it’ll make it move on the computer. You’ve operated a phone before, right?” Vox grinds his digital teeth.
Alastor answers with tangible annoyance, “Yes but I just press on the screen.”
Vox is stunned into silence.
“I like the proper ones with cradles,” Alastor adds, unprompted. “Rotary dial.”
“You’re such an old piece of shit! You’re such an old piece of shit!” Vox loses it. “Take it in your hand and move it!”
Alastor’s eyes narrow.
“You’re fucking with me. I’m leaving.”
“Alastor, no!” Vox insists. “I already said it’s a deal, I’m agreeing, but you have to do this for it to work because I do not have hands to shake. Motherfucker.”
Alastor is just there like a cardboard cutout.
“Alastor,” Vox tries to calm himself. “It’s a piece of equipment, just barely nudge it to the left so it hovers over the box and then click the left side– it HAS to be the left side. Otherwise you are opening a new can of worms and you are not prepared to handle it.”
“I offer to aid you in regaining your basic dignity and you insult my intelligence,” Alastor says, stupid old-timey voice completely flatlining.
“And you come to me in this modern era having never used a mouse. So we work with what we’ve got,” Vox hisses through a tight smile. “Do you think that felt good having to explain that to you, Alastor?”
It is fun to condescend to Alastor, but he’s appalled. Alastor’s quaintness will always hold him back.
Alastor must decide he believes Vox. He lifts his hand and places it delicately over the mouse. Not poised to use the buttons, but like he’s cupping his hand over half an apple. He starts moving it and the mouse darts wildly across the screen. Alastor’s brows furrow.
“Vox, it’s going everywhere.”
“Just–” Vox goes dead silent as he mentally prepares for the battle to come. “You barely have to move it. You see that little popup?”
“Pop-what?”
“The– the thing. The thing on the screen that says ‘I consent.’ Do you see it?”
Vox watches as Alastor adjusts his fucking monacle and leans in to look at the screen so close it must be causing him eye strain.
“Ah. Yes, I see it.”
“Good. Good. Great. Now.” Vox doesn’t know what it is, but explaining technology to old people just makes him see red. “Move the mouse over to the–”
“On the screen?”
”HAHA, yes, on the fucking screen. Move it over to the box and use the left button– the left button-- to click the– There you go.”
Alastor has started to slowly shift the mouse over to the popup. Maybe this is almost done and won’t be so bad after all.
The mouse finally reaches the popup.
And then Alastor presses the little ‘X’ at the top and the prompt disappears completely.
“Did I do it? It doesn’t feel like the deal–”
“NOPE.”
Vox’s voice booms out over the office and Shok.wav comes over to tap his precious little nose point against the glass, no doubt hoping Vox is so pissed at someone that must mean he has a little snackie for him.
“Nope, that wasn’t it. You failed. One sec.” Vox pulls the screen back up, but Alastor is scowling with his eyes now, Vox can see it. “Okay, now press the damn ‘I consent’ button. Not the ‘X,’ the one that says I FUCKING CONSENT.”
“You don’t have to yell at me,” Alastor says mildly, dragging the mouse over to the button. It still moves wildly, but he gets it centered soon enough.
Thank god. This has to end now.
Alastor clicks the right button and it all goes to shit.
“What’s this now,” Alastor complains. “Another little thingy popped up–”
”Aaaah, you clicked the right button!” Vox loses his shit. “What did I tell you! What did I tell you!”
“Well if it’s the right button, then why did all of this come up?” Alastor starts clicking wildly all over the screen with the right button, opening up the menu over and over. “Your computer isn’t working!”
”Are you trying to make me mad?!” Vox bellows. ”Was that your scheme the whole time? Just come in here and piss me off so bad I short-circuit?!”
“Well, that would just be a ridiculous plan,” Alastor dismisses snippily. “Now make this thing work correctly or I’m leaving–”
“You’re the one who’s fucking it up! Look, just stop trying to– move off of the menu and click the left button!” Vox begs.
“I am!” Alastor lies.
“No you’re not! You’re just–”
“Fine! The left button!” Alastor snaps at him for no good reason. “I’m clicking the left button!”
Alastor starts clicking the left button rapidly, but he’s still moving the mouse around the screen trying to get it away from the menu so it just ends up opening up the finance folder and then the internet and then he gets into Google docs–
“Will you fucking stop!” Vox yelps in alarm.
“You said to click the left button, I’m clicking–”
Alastor must click somewhere on the browser because suddenly the bondage porn Vox had been watching earlier pops up on screen.
And then it pops up on every screen in the office.
Alastor’s jaw drops and he kicks away from the desk, sending him back in the chair so hard he hits the wall.
“Vox!” he snarls accusingly.
“Alastor, stop!” Vox pleads with him, quickly minimizing the windows. “Just press the damn ‘I consent’ button!”
“I didn’t consent to any of that!” Alastor is just being a bitch now. “Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
Alastor ignores Vox and pushes the chair back to the desk, leaning towards the computer and locking in. He moves the mouse over the ‘I consent’ popup and clicks with the left mouse and everything and–
”Fuck!!”
A jolt of electricity comes out of the computer, through the mouse, and zaps Alastor who ghosts away a few feet and reappears, glaring down at his hand. It must have been some effect from the deal being made. Laughter bursts from Vox.
“Ohhh, did that hurt? Did that hurt you?” Vox mocks. “Did you hurt your widdle hand?”
Alastor glares up at the nearest screen. “We’re doing this tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll figure out the logistics, you go get a bandaid for your–”
Alastor melts down into the shadows on the floor and suddenly he’s gone.
Vox laughs and laughs. Then he laughs some more.
And then the weight of it all kind of sinks in.
Did he really just make another deal with Alastor. Does Alastor think he’s stupid or something??
Definitely.
And then, with dawning horror, Vox wonders, is he stupid?? If the other two find out–
But they won’t.
Vox soothes himself by imagining showing up at Vee tower with his new body and strutting up to Valentino and Velvette and saying HA. Now who looks stupid!
They do.
It occurs to him in the wee morning hours to wonder what exactly Alastor is after in Lucifer’s estate, but there’s not really a point in pondering it too long. Alastor has always had his schemes, and Vox?
Well.
Vox is about to get a brand spanking new body.