vox fanart + my 3am hc(s) of vox's tv specs below the cut (cw// shitpost, backend bullshit engineering)
VOX's TV SPECS!!📺🦈
Display Panel : Tandem OLED (2-Stack)
- This is the one they use in the newest IPad Pros btw! You can definitely call him an IPad.
Size/Profile : 0.8" Ultra-Slim Flatscreen
- He can STILL have a neck here.. It's flat enough to be a flat screen.
Aspect Ratio : 4:3
- CLASSIC TV & Vox's boomer roots!! This is the traditional, older aspect ratio also used for older CRT TVs—which he used to have!
LISTEN.. HE IS NOT A 16:9 WIDESCREEN TV!!!! HE IS NOT RECTANGLE ENOUGH!! tho im sure his old tv head is 16:9 widescreen (see picture below)
Resolution : 5760 x 4320 (roughly 24.88 megapixels—6K resolution!)
- 8k is cool & all but I feel like I'm looking into his "TV pores" and I think he'd prefer to have a resolution that doesn't put those TV pores on blast BUT STILL counts as high-definition!
Refresh Rate : 400Hz
- Most humans perceive fluid motion at around 24–30 frames per second (which is why movies use 24fps). HOWEVER, to see a SEAMLESS image, we usually need about 60 Hz. Vox may be an old ass man but he is also a high-strung overlord who can canonically fight! 250Hz is the "overclocked" equivalent of a fighter pilot perceiving changes in v high-stress situations. Since Vox is not even human anymore, I HC his refresh rate is slightly above a fighter pilot, a bit higher than a high end TV's 144Hz & a lot closer to a gaming laptop's 480Hz.
Response Time (GtG) : Around ~0.03ms (Because he is an OLED, his pixel response time would be near-instantaneous!)
- Let me clarify: Response Time =/= Reaction Time!! Response time refers to how fast his PIXELS change color! This not referring to how fast his brain processes a glass thrown by Val & tells his body to dodge.
TV Antennas : 7G signal receivers for instant uploading (7G exists in hell IDC!!! THE NUMBER 7 IS JUST A SKEWED LOOKING "V" THAT STANDS FOR VOXG)
Durability : I think this is a bold headcanon but I believe he is level 10+ on the MOHS scale, like, diamond levels of hardness. You can probably key his face & it wouldn't rlly scratch.
- HOWEVER, if we are talking about real life physics?? Extreme hardness is equal to EXTREME BRITTLENESS. His Impact resistance? ZERO. Give him a solid right hook & his screen will shatter.
- He probably has a swappable faceplate system to deal w/ every broken screen.
Cooling System : Idk a portable handheld electric fan ig?? 🤷 idk I think demon physiology has something to do w/ this.
Heat/Temperature : He can throw a very hot, MANIC & electrically-charged tantrum w/o the glass cracking (but will absolutely bluescreen)
Audio : Built-in Dolby Atmos 128-channel spatial audio (Vox w/ 3D sound when he is trying to speak to a wider audience. That little max volume thingy he does when he speaks? Yes. Why not?)
ok WHAT ABOUT THE BACKEND?
Canonically, he seems to only have 7 ports FOR HIS head? With no HDMI cables? (Is he a server rack???) This excludes the retractable cables attached to his body & limbs. Also HE DOESN'T PLUG THESE ACTIVELY so I'm not gonna justify why he is able to run a 6K display at 400Hz with 7G connectivity without plugging his 7 (implied multipurpose & hardworking) ports/cables. He has bisexual demon magic⚡An IRL standard DisplayPort 2.1 would be shitting it's pants trying to push 6K @ 400Hz.
ANW this is my bullshit engineering headcanon for his PORTS, aka Vox's nerdy equivalent of piercings :
PORT 1-2 : Broadcasting Uplink & Downlink — Uplink is for broadcasting his face to every screen. Downlink is for absorbing every camera feed in hell.
PORT 3 : Audio Master Bus — Allows him to attach to any audio system he can get his hands on.
PORT 4 : Charging I/O — Tether to anything that can support his electricity-based powers & increases his reach. Like a parasite. He is a parasite.
PORT 5 : Cooling Unit — I said idk about the cooling system BUT WHAT IF this is the port for the "faceplate swaps", or when he needs to plug in a cooling unit because he’s overheating from a tantrum? YESSS
PORT 6 : Six is a good number (also this is probably a Legacy AV (audio/visual) that he secretly keeps around, "unused", juuuuuust in case he ever needs to interface with certain... analog tech 👀)
PORT 7 : Management port (IPMI) — If he crashes port 7 stays active so his ass can be rebooted
Note : OLED has burn-in risk so i like the idea he does those snazzy "screen glitches" so the pixels doesn't burn into his screen (It's called pixel shifting!!)
As for everything else? mmmm cartoon demon magic idk 🌈
—thank u for reading this far pls pray for my sleeping schedule to get fixed
Headcanon: Vox had a wife, two kids, a dog, and a house with a white picket fence. His wife is 95 now. He already has a huge, separate territory prepared, where he isolates his family from all the hellish shit outside. Even though he’s convinced they’ll all end up in Heaven.
That's partly why he succeeded in hell in a relatively short period of time. "Okay, hell exists, which means there's a chance my darling and babies will end up there" - I need a lot of money and influence.
Could he have been a good husband? He cheated I think, always busy, has a temper, led a double life as a murderer, and as a cult-leader (he did not allow his wife to be involved in this). But he chose a wife who really relaxed and supported him. She was important to him.
She is his princess, and no one will dare touch her. He will release sharks into the moat around the castle.
When I say huge, I mean several fields. The house is surrounded by dozens of hectares, and every square inch is guarde.
His level of protection from outside influences is such that he understands that he too is a threat. Vox recalls his mortal life and how he behaved, how he prepared himself before returning home. Vox now needed two days of preparation so as not to forget not to swear.
No one will know about her (and his children in the future), thinking that it is just his residence. Anyone who tries to break in will be caught and killed in the most brutal way.
His family will not have the internet, only books.
One night when he comes to visit for a couple of days, she will say: "Vinny, I was outside and I know what you do in hell. Media Overlord, love potions, pornography, a huge corporation. I understand, after all, it's hell - and you're selling sins. Thank you for protecting me so well. I'm telling you this because it's not a necessary secret to keep between us".
And he will say: "I know, honey, that you were there. How could I not know? You didn't break my request for quite a long time, but it couldn't last forever".
There’s something about Vincent after a kill, his hair damp with blood. His teeth are stained from the spatter, red against his celebrity smile, and his canines catch the dim moonlight. He’s back in his office after disposing of the body, pulse racing, and pupils dilated. He feels such a rush. One hand grips a glass of whiskey. His dress shirt is torn open, buttons scattered somewhere across the carpet, his tie loosened and draped around his neck. Sinatra croons on the radio, and Vincent turns the dial up, rolling his neck as the music soars. He looks out the window of his skyscraper office and sees endless ambition waiting to be fulfilled.
My goodness, I just thought of something. A lot happened in the United States in the 1950s, McCarthyism, criticism of this.
Very strong influential personalities on both sides.
All these critical articles by journalists.
Could Vincent have avoided politics altogether and simply entertained? Although he has a desire to be someone who inspires deep passion in people. Overall, speaking out is a bold move. And he would only do it for the show, only for his popularity.
The only belief Vincent and Vox have is that everything in the world is for Vincent and Vox. A poetic thing.
And imagine if someone wrote an article with the headline:
"Showman Whittman Hears Applause, Not Reason".
Vincent would throw darts at the author's photo while planning his murder
Vox and his desire for the dynamics of the Evil Pair \ Evil Union
Vox wanted to be worshipped and to have a partner by his side to share it with. He chose the most powerful being in all of Hell imo, Vox intended to lead. But that didn’t change how he raises his chosen one and the union. He built an evil power couple and I love it so much in him.
That genuine feeling of his is now tainted. Vox either tries to justify it or by the end erase it altogether. Yet his desire for a close partner he can trust remains. He is still building his team, more determined to be in command.
To be the main one - He depicts his figure as the largest in the drawings. His V on the tower is also larger than the others.
And I just noticed that Valentino is showing 👍 here. My God, Vox
Vox tries to replace that partnership with godlike obedience. It is a form of sacrificial devotion. He would likely be content with such a dynamic. I wouldn’t say emotional closeness is impossible there.
But does that really suit Vox when it comes to those close to him? Time and again, Vox chooses strong, independent personalities - the kind who can be brats.
Alastor would always act on his own, after all. Vox couldn’t have been unaware of that in the past.
Plans with such personalities nearby would always be discussed.
Such a dynamic of devotion with him could have worked if Vox understood himself well enough not to harm those close to him. Even though the Vees were his team and partners, they trusted him enough to be vulnerable. His leadership didn’t hurt them.
However, Vox has and always will have a tendency to assert his superiority, seek to be the only guiding star.
Literally brighter.
It is a fundamental trait of his character. He could have tried to do the same with Alastor, even if the latter had agreed to an alliance: testing his boundaries.
Still, there's a difference between being brighter and being so bright that it blinds and burns.
Then the deer appeared, tugging at exactly those threads of his personality that made him start destroying everything around him. Val and Vel, more independent than the devoted, saved themselves and his TV head.
Vees hoped he would chill out again. He was important to them, no matter what. Vees is just as dear to Vox, but he couldn't keep the deer-influence & sharpest sides of him in check. Vox understands he got carried away and that this stuff happens to him. This time a bit more yeah.
You guys know me - there were moments when their personalities clashed, but they reached a compromise and stayed together.
In the end, Vox is better suited to a partner who consciously submits each time, choosing Vox as the one who leads, understanding when it won’t harm them or Vox. Such a partner would have their own strong voice.
The main thing is for Vox to find and realize it within himself.
Vincent is building plans about you
Part 1
Summary: Now Vincent has to deal with what the hell has come over him. He came to his apartment, thinking about what had happened, where it had led, and what to do next.
And plans need to be made.
Author's Note: This story was originally just a little breeze of a sketch, with different possible developments only in my head :D Very ephemeral. After all of you have been active, I found more and more inspiration to give this story more shape, and I’m glad to do it.
Thank you.
As for Vincent: he’s precious.
When Vincent got back home, he tossed the flowers and the cake onto the table and dropped into an chair.
It wasn't that the failure of his plan that bothered him.
Everything did. Everything around him felt strange. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
Vincent loosened his tie. He was unbearably hot.
He didn’t like this feeling - he couldn’t breathe evenly, even.
And the only thing he could think about was you.
He thought about how he could talk to you again, dance with you, take you out to dinner, spend money on gifts for you and watch you smile.
And yet not a single coherent thought of how to make it happen formed in his head.
Only later, through the haze, did he remember, damn of corse, he has already done something, he had given you his home number.
Gradually, his thoughts became clearer.
You had just broken up with that idiot. And you weren’t the type to act without a plan. Or to enjoy changes. That's why it was so convenient for Vincent to keep an eye on you, even relaxing.
You had three favorite dresses for walking. One - the most favorite you wore more often in the evenings. Everything was the same: hairstyle, shoes, walking time, walking route differed slightly.
Dress up in a new way at parties when he saw you must have been torture.
By all signs, Vincent considered you deeply attached to what was old and familiar - to what you loved.
Unfortunately, he finally followed that obvious thought to its end: you loved Tommy, and you still loved him now.
At first, Vincent thought you had been sick - that’s why you stayed in bed for three days. Women’s days, maybe.
No. It was all because of Tommy.
What would happen if he killed Tommy?
The answer was obvious too. But you wouldn’t kill yourself, right?
Vincent replayed your behavior in his mind and realized he couldn’t say for sure. Well, one thing was certain: you would be depressed for a long, long time.
No - it would change you forever.
“Fuck.”
Vincent truly wanted to kill Tommy. He thought about destroying his life step by step.
But you would simply go back to him once he lost his career, his position - once he became vulnerable and your heart was bleeding.
You would return to him the moment he asked.
It was a miracle you had broken up at all.
Vincent tried to think if there was a faster way to kill Tommy, a cleaner way to do it all…
But who was he kidding
Even if Tom died from a drug overdose behind the wheel.
You would change after that.
You wouldn’t let anyone close to you for at least a year.
And if you and Vincent were already together, you would push him away too.
There was nothing to think about.
Tommy was going to live. At least as long as he still meant something to you.
And that was what - five years? Vincent caught himself thinking that he wasn’t willing to want Tommy dead for that long.
Not that big of a fish.
Good. That was settled.
Now what?
Because Vince finally had a free evening.
That evening was free for…
He turned toward the door - he needed to remove the ropes and his spare clothes from the trunk.
Looking at the prepared supplies meant for your murder, Vincent understood that he wanted anything except to kill you.
He had been running different scenarios through his head again and again for weeks.
At first, he killed you in his thoughts while thinking about Tom - about how the bastard would suffer.
More and more, his thoughts shifted their focus onto you. Almost immediately, you escaped him in his own thoughts.
No one had ever escaped him - not in his thoughts, not in his dreams, not in reality.
Only you were allowed that.
Again and again: you managed to open the door, trunk and fall onto the road, or you had a gun you were able to use, or a simple hairpin.
There were even scenarios where he himself untied you, giving you a fake chance to escape for his own amusement - only for it to turn real.
You escaped.
Looking back, he understood that it wasn’t some kind of mental experiment. It wasn’t even a desire to see how vivid your emotions could be.
It was a feeling uncharacteristic of Vincent toward little fish like you - the need for you to live.
Vince might not want to kill some people - but all of them were almost like himself. Career-driven, quick, sharp. But for him to want them to live? Not a chance. He didn’t care.
Vincent understood it himself, remembering the scenarios he had written in his mind.
My God, in reality, you wouldn’t have had any chance, would you? Not one. Never.
With a trace of bitter irony, he gave a faint smile.
Suddenly, he remembered the way you looked at him as he closed the door, leaving you in his car.
A shiver ran through his body.
So the feeling was still there.
At that moment, did he confuse it with the desire to kill? Did he even understand it at all?
That feeling was simply the understanding that you were in his hands.
He remembered your cheerful look. In his hands - happy and carefree, trusting him, listening to him.
Vincent said your name out loud once more.
He needed to say it again, because now that name meant something different to him.
So what now?
What was realistic?
You had his number. You were unlikely to call while going through a breakup.
He needed to run into you, remind you of himself.
Go into that shop, say he was buying groceries for his aunt. He trusted your judgment that the shop was decent.
But he would admit that he had hoped to see you, at least part of the truth had to be told.
Then he would suggest taking a walk, but the car would be nearby, the ride would be too short.
He needed more time.
I’ll puncture my own tires and say it was some little brats.
When? A month? He wouldn’t last that long. Two weeks.
After washing his face, Vincent put himself back together. Reaching for a second piece of cake, Vincent heard the phone ring.
It couldn’t be. It wasn’t you. No.
Vince furrowed his brows with a defeated smile - yes, and now he would spend the next two weeks wondering who was calling…
He was at the phone in a second, but he couldn’t pick up that fast.
“Vincent speaking.”
“Vincent.”
He closed his eyes. Damn it. It was you.
Calm down. Don’t push. Let her speak.
“___, I’m glad you called.”
“Me too,” - my God, you were timid. - “You know, I’m going to the shop sometime on Saturday. Are you free?”
“Yes. More than ever.”
“Alright, Vincent. Perhaps you know a good shop - one people go to in dresses and suits?”
“I know the best one of all.”
Vince noticed the pause. He didn’t know what kind of pause it was, but you were nervous. Anyone would have noticed.
“___.”
“I’m here. Vince, everything feels a little fast…” - No, damn it, no, not fast. No, everything was perfect. - “It’s just that the last few days have been hard for me after the breakup. With you, it’s nice, interesting and I feel better. I want to see you. Just know that I… might retreat into my shell. Please forgive me if that happens?”
“You know, ___, I’m quite good at revealing shells… oysters”
Electricity filled the air.
Fucking phones. He wished he could see your face live, right now…And… I pushed, didn’t I?
“But I will forgive you”
“Mr. Whittman…” — you drew it out in a slightly teacherly tone, as if he had misbehaved just a little - in a way everyone liked.
“See you.”
“See you, ___.”
You hung up.
Vincent ran his fingers through his slightly tousled hair.
And wasn't that the second time you messed up his planning? He is usually not satisfied with such a thing.
Immediately, he dialed a number.
“Jess, don’t plan anything for Saturday. Move everything you already have.” Jess knew that tone - jubilant, satisfied. Her boss was practically purring.
“Yes, sir.”
══════════════════
You were dressed casually, street clothes, keys in your hand.
As soon as the call ended, you drank some water and stepped outside.
“That’s it. I called.”
Your friend was waiting outside, breathing in the air. She wanted details.
“We decided to meet.”
“Oh my God, that’s Vincent Whittman. I’m so glad you told me about him - otherwise you wouldn’t have called, aren't you? You must have been born under a very lucky star.”
“Oh, stop it, Lois. I always think I wouldn’t be able to handle a man like that.”
“It’s worth trying. And…”, noticing the sadness in your eyes, she took your arm as you headed toward the park, “Even if Vincent slips away, you need to have some fun and remember there are other men. Men who will take better care of you than Tommy did.”
“Lois…”
“Yes, yes, Tommy is a good, I know. Just don’t talk about him in front of Vince. Men get jealous.”
“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” - you knew talking about exes was bad manners. But Vincent asked himself and it didn’t last long. Well, Lois would feel calmer if she gave you instructions - “Does anyone really start getting jealous on a first date?”
Lois stared at you.
“Of course. Men like that invite you when they’re already very interested - and willing to move all their important meetings”, she sang it with theatrical importance, “For you”
“That sounds threatening”, you said it in an affected way.
Lois laughed brightly.
“Well, remember - you’re a brilliant smart girl who deserves the very best. I’ve never met anyone with a mind like yours.”
You smiled. “Lois…”
“No, no, ___, you’re a genius. Don’t even argue.”
“That’s all your influence.”
You walked side by side along the lit path, laughing and chatting.
Lois was excited by the news, already thinking about which dress you would choose.
The similarities in some things between Charlie and Vox are simply delightful. She literally liked the airship so mutch. "Wow, what’s that cool fish-shaped thing, and is that me?" \before she read it
And he like: "At last, my cool fish-shaped airship finished. Perfect!"
alastor is cat-coded and vox is dog-coded that's the post
alastor's cat-coded behavior is self-explanatory. listen. he would break mugs and tip things over counters to be a petty bitch. he put his feet on vox's desk. he starts shit for the love of it. he is so very much a cat.
some of vox's dog-coded behavior is how he constantly yearns for alastor's and other's praise and attention. his sharks are canonically dog-coded and vox also is very enthusiastic in general like dogs are. while alastor likes to work alone (like a cat), vox likes to work with people, like a pack (and his power grows with the approval of others.)
you KNOW vox would crash out at alastor calling him good boy
