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@countlessrealities
"I don't want to drink with you today, mon cher," Alastor said, reaching out to take the bottles from the other and disappear them into the darkness. Of course he was going to steal Vox's rye for the bar.
"Why don't you try wining and dining me?"
Shoulders tensed. "Great, thanks for announcing it to all of Hell, Vel. You know, if you paid more attention, you'd know I was trying to warn our employees."
@countlessrealities
@countlessrealities Smooch, Woohoo, Make them mine...Vox is definitely hoping to tick all three boxes >:D
"Mhmm, you can have me if you're able to claim me, my dear~" Alastor purred in a sing-song voice before promptly kissing the picture box's screen with a low hum of satisfaction~
“I’m not drunk, I’m just...emotionally flexible right now.”
[[ from Velvette...and she's totally drunk xD Chance meeting at a club mayhaps? ]]
"Bitch, go home you're so drunk."
Vaggie snorted as she crossed her legs on the bar stool she was currently upon, her angle bobbing to the loud beat of the music playing all around them. She'd snort at the pretty Overlord before making a 'cut off' gesture to the bartender, then she'd shrivel around on her stool to lightly nudge her foot to the Diva Queen before her.
"C'mon doll, want me to take you back to Vee tower? You can get an all express pass on the Vaggie Flight Experience~" She'd chuckle at her own bad joke. "I can fly." She explained.
@countlessrealities replied to your post “Cuteness Scale”:
Vox, grumbling to himself: "I can think of other words that fit a lot more than 'cute'...."
"Handsome, alluring, jaw-dropping, magnificent, spellbinding.. Am I close~?"
@countlessrealities liked for a yule gift from Alastor to Vox //accepting!
It had recently come to his attention, truly life changing realization, that Vox had been crushing on him all this time. A ridiculous notion, but it made so much sense. Not only this, but there was surprisingly a mutual sexual attraction. Alastor was a bit startled but also curious. The other overlorrd still was interested, atleast that was it sounded like with their conversation they had not too long ago.
But where to go from here? How was he even supposed to ask? Maybe a gift. Yes, present him with a gift during the sinsmas party the overlords and upper sinners of hell were throwing. He wasn't specifically invited but he was an overlord, he could attend without any fuss.
The sinsmas party was pretty nice when he arrived but he didn't want to seem like he was just here to see Vox. So he mingled a bit and helped himself to some eggnog and drinks until Vox finally noticed him. The stag smiled and made a gesture for the other to follow him into another room where there weren't many people. When the television overlord joined him he held out his hands and a perfectly wrapped present appeared, blue wrapping paper with snowflakes with a red bow.
"This is for you, Vox. Merry Sinsmas."
Inside the present was a wooden radio about ten inches tall, but in had been made to be a shark. It mouth open for the speaker, with it's little front fins to keep it propped up, the dorsal fin was the switch to flip the radio on and off and the tail was jointed to be posed or to fidget with.
(plotted starter)
The sharp click of heels echoed down the hallway as he made his way downstairs, two hot coffees held steady in a pair of arms while his third hand kept scrolling. He paused at the bottom step, eyes narrowed at the phone screen. The numbers from Travis’s latest production weren’t bad, but the comment feeds told the real story. Those fresh hires had the looks, sure tight bodies and eager faces but Hell didn’t hand out stardom for just showing up naked. They couldn’t act worth a damn. He gave a short, dry laugh and shoved the phone into his inner coat pocket.
At least they’d look good hanging off his arm at the clubs. That was about all they were good for.
He pushed through the door to Vox’s workspace without knocking, letting it swing wide. The room was dim except for the harsh glow of multiple monitors bathing everything in cold blue light. Vox sat exactly where he’d left him over an hour ago, shoulders tight, claws tapping rapidly across a floating keyboard while graphs and stock tickers flickered nonstop.
He crossed the room in a few long strides, set one coffee down on the desk with a soft clack, then hopped up to sit on the edge of it. One leg crossed smoothly over the other as he reached back, fingers closing around the top of Vox’s chair. With a firm pull he spun the other Overlord around to face him.
“You still glued to those damn screens, baby?” He held out the second coffee, tilting his head. “C’mon, loosen up already. New Overlords crop up every week, strutting around like they own the place. They’ll be wiped out before the month’s over.” He waved his free hand in a lazy flick. “Forget that noise.”
He slid off the desk, rising to his full height and turning slowly so the new jacket caught the light from the monitors. The fabric shifted with a faint, expensive rustle as he ran a hand down the front.
“Focus on this instead. Vel really outdid herself with this one. Feels like real sinner scales maybe even dinosaur-grade. Either way…” He spread his arms a little, showing the cut and shine. “It looks fucking killer on me. Don’t you think?”
He leaned in closer, one hand resting on the back of Vox’s chair again, voice dropping into that familiar low drawl. “You’ve been staring at charts all day. Take the coffee, relax, and tell me how good I look. Come on.”
@countlessrealities @eldritchgrin
@countlessrealities
One would think that the radio demon, the alleged nemesis of the media overlord, would be walking around the hotel crowing in victory. After all, Vox's ratings have plummeted, his team broken, and now he's reduced to staying at the Hazbin Hotel.
But behind the demon's carefully crafted smile lay only grief.
He once fled from Vox out of fear, and then stayed away thinking it was all for the best. How foolish. How naïve. What they had couldn't fizzle out cleanly. The embers merely piled up on each other until they roared to life again.
He roughly exhaled, straightening the lapels of his coat with his free hand. He had no idea how to make this right. He had no idea if he even could.
But he could try... something. Anything.
He knocked on Vox's door, a bundle of blankets under his arm, and he waited for whatever would come next.
