it’s ninety-nine degrees outside, four fuck-thousand percent humidity, and my husband was like, “i’m gonna go for a bike ride.” and i was like “why. no. why. don’t put us on the news like that. local fool collapses on unnecessary journey. don’t do it.” so he says he doesn’t want to “hide in the house” because the sun is shining. bruh. honeybruh. “the sun is shining” does not cover it. its hot outside. its motherfucking hot as fuck outside. our outdoor plants have been crying into their hands all week. whole cars are melting into the sewer. our fucking patio umbrella developed sentience to ask me for lemonade this morning
this is a great idea, thank you. here goes. my audition tape for the weather channel. dearly beloved. we are gathered here today to have a fucking funeral for the outdoors. it had a good run, with all its creeks and clouds and shit. pretty great. now it’s ten-thirty at night but still ninety-two asshole-sweating degrees and humid as fuck. everything is hot and slimy, like being a “borrower” that got trapped inside a bottle of shampoo and then accidentally microwaved. you can see on my doppler radar that nothing is moving around out there because everything is probably dead. the only alive thing is the mosquito currently trying to drill a hole in my leg. no surprise that all the shitbag mosquitos are fine, since the thermostat of hell is always at the devil’s preferred temperature. this forecast has gotten away from me a little, but in conclusion fuck the sun
ninety nine???? thats IT????????? buddy here in the 7th circle of h*ck, California, we get up to at LEAST 110 degrees every single gosh darned summer. the bugs seek revenge. the sun wreaks havoc on the mere mortals it surveys. every plant has turned brown in its thirst for water. the very air itself has been sucked dry of every drip of moisture it ever had.
well since you asked so politely, let’s talk about something very important vis a vis weather-hotness that you clearly ain’t ever heard of, called
humidity
oh alas, you say. oh papa, whatever shall i do, it is ever so hotte and drye in california. the very air hath been sucked of all its moisturey droplets and whatnot.* one hundredy and tennith desiccated degrees!
*(yo, drought is serious. i am pretty obviously not making fun of that.)
alright. let’s check it out. here’s a random california city, right about now:
thirty-two percent. and here’s a random mid-atlantic city located somewhere in the wet fleshy crease behind a demon’s knee*:
*(confession: i do not live in dc, but several years ago i spent three weeks steaming like a tinned ham in arlington in august. none of the pants i took with me could ever keep a crease again.)
huh! funny thing! “see, dc’s actually seven degrees COOLER,” you say, because you’ve obviously never gone outside and taken a deep lungful of wet sock trash air in your life. and now for added bliss, here’s what early wednesday morning’s gonna be like for these poor clowns:
that’s right! eighty-two percent humidity! the point at which showers no longer matter, because you’re all caught in God’s grease trap! just stressed human eels miserably slip slidin’ their way through a damp melty bathwater-flavored hellscape that feels like it’s actively sous viding their top layer of skin! a hundred thousand people packed into public transit breathing air that feels like deepthroating swamp thing! and you wanna talk to me about fuckin california!
[cue science voice]: human bodies cool through evaporation, a process by which the body sweats and sweet invisible angels towel us off, whisking away our unwanted moisture into the air and literally chilling us out. (it’s also why air conditioned air feels so fucking deliciously refreshing: it’s not just being cooled, it’s being conditioned, aka, dehumidified. it’s cool dry air.) but. if the air is already made out of fucking chowder and can’t absorb shit then guess what the fuck our bodies can’t do.
so is this weak fool gonna remain indoors and hydrated through this only medium-hot but fuckoff-humid season? you bet your dried out ass.
I saw a post that Al doesn’t drink in public no more probably avoiding catching feelings and cooties again since Vox so I wonder if Vox is the same cause if I remember correctly he only took a drink on his own room 8la and that made me sad and oh well…
So, everyone on Reddit at least seems really damn interested in my take on how Vox’s weird ass body actually, you know, works, so I figured I’d publish it here!
A lot of this is my random autistic ramblings and all of it is canon to my Numbers AU lol. Everything under the cut!
- Vox has two sets of transmitter and receiver essentially built into him, though tuned to something more magical than a simple radio frequency.
- One transmitter in his head that controls his body and one receiver is in his head and allows for sensory input.
- The other transmitter is in his body and allows for sensory output as is the other receiver, which receives the controls of the body.
- The ones in his body are actually built into his heart. The receiver is in the atria, while the transmitter is in the ventricle. They cannot be swapped without killing Vox (not permanently).
- The ones in his head are removable. They can be removed from the back (or front if you go through the glass) and can be put in a new TV. It essentially connects to any television that’s close enough if they are removed but not put back into a proper TV.
- He also has a memory card that acts as his brain in his skull that always sits next to the other components. Before 2010, only incredibly important memories were truly recorded on it, as he couldn’t record all the time.
- All components in his head combined are a navy-blue motherboard-esque thing with cyan lines going through it (receiver) with a smaller, cyan tube looking thing with navy-blue lines on it of it with wires of varying shades of blue at the end of it that connect it to the receiver (transmitter). The microchip sits in the middle of the receiver and is navy blue and red.
- From 2010-15 he could record videos through his own gaze if he actively focused on it.
- From 2015 onwards he is constantly recording video and audio.
- He can recall all video and audio recordings on command, but he has the storage system coded that anything that has glitchy video/staticy audio gets sent to a specific storage before being double checked by Vox himself and that has multiple defenses- including four differing passwords that give Vox an immediate alert when used, a need for a specific pulse of electricity, and is also stored directly into his private server room which only Vox and Alastor can access because it has no doors.
- Once specific components are removed and are put in a new tv, his old head essentially disconnects from his body at the spine and a port opens in the new tv that allows him to connect them to each other.
- Trying to remove his head while the components are still in his skull is excruciatingly painful and, leaves him able to feel every ache and pain in his body (and also amplifies the pain due to a horrible feedback effect) but unable to move even when his head is reconnected as it essentially severs his spinal cord.
- Vox is, mostly, organic. His skin, muscles, bones, and respiratory system is all completely organic. His digestive tract, and nervous system are all entirely synthetic. His circulatory system is basically half synthetic half real. The parts of his heart that hold his receivers n shit are synthetic, as are his major arteries. His blood is dark blue, unlike most sinners. It’s both actual blood and, well. Not oil or coolant but some secret third thing that doesn’t affect his organic bits but also keeps his inorganic parts running smoothly.
- He doesn’t have vocal cords per-say. Just wires that connect to the speakers he has on his head. He can speak with his mouth full if he wants but doesn’t want to because it’s rude and feels weird as hell. In older models, these wires are physically connected and are hardware (which was very annoying to connect), while, starting in about 2006 or so, he started experimenting with a sort of Bluetooth feature. By 2015, he can project his voice on any device with a speaker in a specific radius even without needing to connect to his more powerful equipment. This does mean he can theoretically be hacked into silence tho. He calls these his vocal processors because he’s a dramatic bitch.
- Similarly, he has no ears. Just microphones(?) that process sound. Audio processors. He can isolate certain sounds with them and adjust how much he can hear. Literal selective hearing.
- He can’t smell! Like. At all. Funnily enough, he does have a shark’s ability to smell, it just doesn’t connect to his brain so he can’t actually make use of it.
- His sense of taste muted. To the point where he straight up can’t taste certain foods. Bland food is literally tasteless to him. Though he can still feel things like spiciness, so he does have to build his spice tolerance from nonexistent to Alastor’s level.
- The antennae on his head do actually count as organs and are nearly impossible to actually regrow. These allow him to tune into radio frequencies and sense frequencies. It’s also how he and Alastor can do their whole walkie talkie thing. They’re also sensitive. Like, stupid sensitive. Both in a good way and a bad way.
- Said antennae are weird when it comes to transfers. They retreat to a weird pocket dimension when the transfer is in process, regrowing on whichever screen he has now.
- Vox, like sharks, is incredibly sensitive to electromagnetic pulses and can sense electricity in the air down to a single volt at the beginning of everything, to a billionth of a volt in strongest sinner form. This is due to the fact that he straight up has shark skin. Pet him from head to feet, he’s smooth. Go the other way and he’s rough. His stomach is also very soft to the touch (but not thin. It’s not too easy to disembowel him). He occasionally finds himself running his hands up and down his arms when stupidly stressed.
- His gills are functional! He has actual gill arches and filaments and stuff. He can breathe underwater… if the water is clean. He’s very sensitive to any impurities in the water when breathing through them so he doesn’t do it often. His whole respiratory system is kinda weird there, because thanks to hell magic, they’re connected to both the circulatory system like a shark, but also to his lungs. He basically has three tracheas, but can only exhale through his gills, not his mouth. He can seal his gill slits up if need be. It’s annoying but possible.
- His head is not actually waterproof by default, which made bathing a pain and a half when he first fell. Once he started making his own heads- circa 1980s- he started making them as waterproof as physically possible. Now, he can submerge his head up to where his ports are and even further if he puts a very specific sort of almost tape he made.
- Vox regularly sheds his teeth like a shark. They’re serrated and fall out on a 90 day cycle, often in food.
- Vox is almost entirely immune to electricity, both his and anything anyone else might throw at him. He’d have to be struck by lightning to even get hurt by it.
- Runs hot due to his mechanical bits. Mostly doesn’t feel it but he does get hot more easily and can actually overheat. Once he found a semi melted component in one of his old heads he started adding legit coolant and other safeguards
- In order, his heads go:
- 1954-60 RCA Victor Model 21-S TV (completely black and white- he couldn’t see color)
- 1960-71 RCA “late” Mark Series CTC-7 (now it’s in color)
- 1971-1974 RCA 1969 CTC36 Color Tube Table Top (Alastor smashed this to bits)
- 1974-1982 Toshiba 921
- 1982-1995 VoxTek Hertz Plus (1982- first model he designed himself. Looks similar to a SALORA 1G6H YEAR 1982 but with no buttons and sleek gray. Also destroyed by Alastor)
- 1995-2006 VoxTek CRT-54 (1995, looks like a Grundig Radio- M72-410),
- 2006-2015 VoxTek CRT-89 Slim Edition (2006, looks like a Toshiba 13A26C but slimmer)
- 2015-2021 VoxTek 4K Ultra V23 (2015, we’re at bog standard flat screen now- though now he has a camera in it and can record everything. Pilot Vox)
- 2021-present VoxTek AV V91
- Vox’s Soul is a shifting, sparking mass of blue-white electricity with the occasional purple spark threading through it. It resembles ball lightning in a way, but… more solid. It’s incredibly light and feels like Alastor can push a claw through it with little resistance.
New Hazbin Print ‘Sparks’ is now available on Streamily! 📺🎙️
Go get your print here! ✨https://streamily.com/christianborle/50780
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I poured my heart into this and loved every second of it , I will never get tired of drawing these 2 lovable idiots♥️💙Thank you to Amir and Christian for trusting me with this print!
Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Minor Characters, minor OCs
Additional Tags: Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Though he doesn’t know the term, Bisexual Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Pre-Relationship, Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe, Murder, Cannibalism, Rated For Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Vox is a Mess (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is in Denial (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is a Little Shit (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Denial (Hazbin Hotel), One fell first, The other doesn’t know he fell, Minor Rosie, Minor Mimzy, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mentioned Racism, Alastor and Vox Have a History (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor Has Issues (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is part shark, Vox's Head is a CRT TV (Hazbin Hotel), Canon-Typical Violence, POV Alternating, Colorblind Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), minor Niffty, Minor Overlords
Series: Part 1 of Number Stations
Summary:
When Alastor had first felt a new radio frequency infringe on his own, he had followed it with the expectation that he would find some up and coming Overlord with a death wish.
Instead, he found a sinner that reeked of sunlight and life and had a peculiar box atop his head.
When Vox woke up after his ill-fated sermon, there were many things he expected. For it to be a horrible nightmare, for him to be in the hospital… to be in Hell.
What he didn’t expect was to come face to face with what appeared to be a weird mix between a man and a deer.
Neither of them expected that this meeting would change both of their afterlives for good. Neither expected just how close they would get.
And neither expected just how it would end.
First chapter of my first Hazbin fanfic!! I’m genuinely excited I’ve been working on this since around the end of s2. Currently it’s at about 100k words!
Okay, here are the shots of when Kinger was coding:
This is first.
Interestingly, at the bottom right, there is a 'bubbles' folder- but Kinger clicks Characters, and is taken to this page.
Which is... absolutely fascinating. CA_NeuralScans?? Sounds like that's how people got stuck in the circus- they were scanned. Nevertheless, Kinger presses AI-
And, despite the questionable '???' glitchy folder, clicks Caine. (I wonder if the glitchy one isn't the ai Caine overwrote.) That takes him here-
His password is his wife's name, awww. Then the next time we see the computer, it has this on it-
Which has SO much to talk about, but importantly, the dates!! If you interpret thise dates to be of the day of their creation, as I have, we can presume the circus was created in 1996- and BUBBLE, who seems to have been designed as a chef? Scratch and the first batch of people arrive in 1999. Ragatha appears in 2008- which is a MUCH bigger gap than I expected. Maybe that isn't what that means, though- why would everything have happened perfectly on October 15?
Kinger also checks the 'Paraphernalia' engine- sound familiar? '...show you the most jaw-dropping, heart-stopping, mind-bending paraphernalia you've ever laid your eyes upon!' Maybe a stretch, I don't know. But then, if you look closely, Caine begins SPEAKING to Kinger in the code.
The very last line says something about not injecting Torment, and that Torment must be accidental.
Also, a sneaky 57 there in the code!
The next shot is this-
Again, Caine is speaking to Kinger. Kinger, baffling, begins to inject the Torment mentioned earlier? Maybe this has something to do with why Caine yelled about the humans tormenting him?
Regardless, Caine has a shocked reaction to this coding line, and then compliments Kinger on his mind- except he doesn't call him Kinger. He uses his real name (!) but it's glitched out. It looks to be a 'G', an alpha, and an eta?
The next shot is this-
Paraphernalia is noted as a favorite word. Then the glitch continues to spread-
And then this happens.
Kinger seems to have stopped Caine trying to save himself, which lead to Caine's death.
There's a lot of really interesting stuff to chew on here! I love the detail Glitch puts into these shows!
pixelskylines
stormborns
baratheonpilled
theartofmadeline
titsay
