#statiicstag

[damnedrainbows]

A page of just random doodles from @statiicstag and my radiostatic (and radiotrio) rps

With Vox and Al’s three kids Niffty, Baxter, and Hewlett (their baby)

and their housecat

[cannibalxroses]

ll Continued - @statiicstag ll

"Thank you darling.~" Moving away from his personal space, she walks over to a small table behind her front desk. There, she had an old radio, already turned to his usual channel, and a deer plush wearing a red suit, stitched to hold a black rose between the plush paws. All it was missing was the bow tie. She took a moment to tie it around the neck. Rosie then held it up for Alastor to see. "Isn't he the most adorable thing you've ever seen?! I call him Albert. He reminds me of you a bit. He's such a little cutie."

[ruminatisms]

@statiicstag

There was no time for loitering around in bed! The King sat up, humming with delight and checking the time. EARLY! He was surprised in the best way. The start of his morning continued all the way through with that eager energy and Lucifer found his way to the radio shack, usually an eye sore to him, in record time. Now, the space that screamed ALASTOR looked like such a delight! How biases change!

He then found himself before that very radio demon after allowing himself into the comfy little space.

"You're not going to believe it!! This is the BEST I'VE FELT IN YEARS!!! Al! Pal! You were so right! AAAAGGH!! " The devil just suddenly screamed. Despite how it sounded, it was meant to be a squeal of delight, "You just amaze me!"

He reached out, trying to bring Alastor into what would be a very constricting, tight hug.

[countlessrealities]

@statiicstag from HERE

A voice. Dreamlike, it carries across the room and through the ruin; the words drift to his ears which twitch with acknowledgement. Alastor himself sits slumped against his desk in the mess that remains of his radio tower, a bloody heap.

It would appear that this voice in particular will always be able to snap him into some state of consciousness, even now. How unfortunate.

Crimson eyes creak open, and though his grin widens the emotion he feels is a far cry from joy as he takes in the face in front of him. If this is how and where he expires for good, he would rather do it alone, and not under the watchful eye of . . . someone he does not know how to put a name to. He will blame blood loss on the lack of ability to come up with a proper term.

Radio static crackles around them, permeating his voice in his weakened state and making it rather hard to understand the words that attempt to slip from a mouth that drips blood.

❝ Is that so? You've a rather fine opportunity to do so now, then. ❞ Alastor replies, somehow still having the ability to muster up some cheek as he moves his arms to his sides. The movement exposes the severity of his wound and just how much crimson drips from it, a trail leading from what remains of the door to him.

He's not truly offering himself up. He knows good and well Vox won't take the opportunity. If that were the case, he'd had already done so.

❝ It's rude to keep a man waiting, you know. ❞

Vox scowls at Alastor's comeback. It doesn't surprise him, of course, because the crazy motherfucker always had to be the one on top of the situation...even when he obviously was not. It's annoying as hell, just as the taunting in itself. It almost makes him regret his decision to leave the Tower and risk getting caught in the mess that surrounds what's left of the Hotel. Without even grabbing his jacket.

Why in the seven Rings does he like this guy again?

"I wouldn't call it a 'fine opportunity'. There's no satisfaction in striking down someone who's already dying on their own," the Overlord scoffs, making a show of rolling his eyes even if his rival probably can't see that. "You look like shit and I have more class than that."

Of course, things are much more complicated than that. For as much as he enjoys seeing the Radio Demon getting his ass kicked and reduced to this sort of pitiful mess, he doesn't actually want him to meet his double death. For reasons he'd rather not dwell on.

The static echoes unpleasantly through his speakers as he steps forward, crouching down in front of Alastor to better assess the damage. He can't fully see the wound with the clothes in the way, but it's obvious that it's bad, and the amount of blood the bastard has already lost is all the confirmation he needs.

Vox's eyes dart around, scanning their surroundings. There's no way there could be anything sort of first aid kit in that wreck, assuming that Alastor has something of the sort to start with. Well, shit. He can see only one working option left there.

"But since you don't like to be left waiting, you leave me just one choice..." He starts again, standing up.

His voice trails off, purposefully leaving the other hanging so he can grab him while he's distracted. Under other circumstances, daring something like that would probably get him killed, but he's confidence that the other is too weak for that right now.

"You're paying for my dry cleaner," he announces. properly adjusting his arms around the Radio Demon, one hooked under his legs and the other holding his back. "Blood is a bitch to wash off."

[radioiaci]

▹ @statiicstag liked for a starter.

Like looking into the world's finest mirror. Ever the narcissist, he absolutely finds himself staring at what he presumes to be a doppelganger or facsimile of none other than himself, gaze shifting from head to toe in appraising fashion with no ounce of shame in the act.

"And the universe deigns to bless me with being able to meet my own self face to face. There are no shortage of surprises today, now are there?" Alastor will even go so far as to do a bit of a circular step around the other to get a good three-sixty viewpoint.

Tickled, really. Don't mind him.

Or do. It won't change his nosy demeanor one way or another.

[hells-musing-along]

// closed starter for @statiicstag //

A haunting melody drifted through the skyline, emanating from one of the rooftops. Those within the vicinity felt a deep ache clutching at their hearts: sorrow, anxiousness, and heartache hung heavy within. The siren’s song only lasted a few minutes, but those feelings still lingered with those around and within her.

“...What a fucking happy day in Hell,” Sarcastically muttering to herself, Lilith poured another glass of whiskey. Her lilac eyes slowly take in Hell’s skyline before they fall upon a particular hotel. A faint twist of anguish crossed her features as she realized it was still her first day back in hell.

It was supposed to be a happy day, a joyous reunion with her family. The moment she was released from Heaven's golden cage, she eagerly searched for her loved ones. Yet, upon finding them, she hesitated, realizing she couldn't simply re-enter their lives as if nothing had changed. 

Lucifer and Charlie looked so happy when she saw them heading into the hotel. She didn’t want to intrude on their happiness. It’s been seven years… did she even have that right? You’re just going to ruin them. She did not, at least right now, and retreated into the city.

… where she is currently now, draining yet another glass of whiskey on the rooftop of her recording studio. Reaching for the bottle again, she found it empty. Letting out a heavy sigh, she headed back inside, the warm buzz of the alcohol tingling her senses and dulling her pain.

This was what she wanted, needed even, to be fully vulnerable for just one night. To let go of all the restraints she had built up over the past seven years to protect herself and just feel again. Liquor might not have been the best choice, but it was what was available.

Lilith stumbled into the studio, briefly appreciating the soft sound of jazz emitted from the wooden radio, before heading straight to the liquor cabinet, oblivious to her surroundings. Her fingers traced the tops of the bottles before settling on a bottle of rye. With a satisfied hum, she turned around and finally noticed that she was not alone.

An elegant eyebrow arched ever so slightly as hazy lilac-colored eyes fixed on the intruder. "...I wonder when these hallucinations will finally cease," she murmured to herself, knowing her dear friend wouldn’t be here. No one knew she was here.

[voxxisms]

@statiicstag  whispered a line  !! 'tell me' prompts  ( accepting! ) ❛ tell me what happened. ❜

     HIS  EYES  WERE  TRAINED  ON  THE  FLOOR.  he hadn't known where else to go in such a state.  valentino  &&  velvette were both dead.  voxtek was a lost cause,  having had to sign over just about everything in order to avoid an untimely end himself.  he had been able to weasel out with a portion his soul contracts,  at least,  so his power was mostly in tact,  although much weaker than it should have been.  the turf war had gone much worse than he'd ever been prepared for,  he was in a sorry physical state,  too,  screen fuzzy from overexertion,  a little blood stained across his clothes from himself  &&  others.  clothes in near - tatters.

     he was lucky he remembered where alastor's place was.  it had been a long time,  of course,  since he'd been around here,  more than a decade,  at least.  he'd had hopes he wouldn't have to go to the full hotel,  dressed in his shame in front of too many people.  he was lucky he found him here.  his shoulders were slumped,  &&  he considered how best to explain.

         ❛  i lost everything,  ❜    he started simply.  opening his hands,  offering them out,  palm up as he looked up to him,  almost in a gesture of defeat.     ❛  there was  ...  an attack on the tower.  we knew about it in advance,  but they managed to shut down my systems.  the security,  the communications hub.  they ...  they took over everything,  i  ...  i had to sign over voxtek in order to avoid being  ...   well.  i guess they went to carmine before they came,  gleaming steel  &&  all.  ❜    he wouldn't have come back if he hadn't.  the insinuation was there.

         ❛  i know  ...  i don't have a right to ask.  i just need a place for a little bit.  i can pay,  or whatever you need or want.  the bank is closed so i can't make those arrangements until they're open on monday.  ❜

[dark-ambition]

@statiicstag continued from X.

“..Of courssse I have. The hellsss do you think I’m down here for? It’s certainly not bloody tax fraud.” That gots Pentious to fold his arms, a slight scoff leaving his lips as he furrows his brows in a mild glare. A part of him wanted to protest in the fact that he didn’t even answer his original question, and seemed to be totally ignoring the topic when it came to the dead body still sprawled on the ground between them, but that was of little consequence. His tail lashed a little across the ground, his suspicions piqued. “Why do you want to know anyway? You’ve never expressssed interest before.”