▹@voxxcd liked for a starter.
It's impatience which has drawn him from his own hole of rest and recovery. It's been more than enough time, he thinks, since the fiasco that has been the talk of the city since it had occurred. And still, he has heard nothing of Vox, knowing full well that he certainly had survived the ordeal. Perhaps one body lesser, but still - it is a better fate than what he likely deserves. But for some reason, having not heard nor seen any indication that the television is still in existence, Alastor finds himself antsy.
Has Valentino committed to end him after all...?
The radio demon has to find out for himself, creeping from the hotel in the dead of one ominous night as he travels in shadow from district to district, venturing into the still blinding lights of the entertainment territory where the Vee tower, still seemingly undergoing repairs, still stands. Like a nocturnal predator, Alastor stalks the alleys as he nears, keeping ears out for the tower's massive guard dog that he knows is likely still lingering within.
If one is to call him out for being concerned about Vox's whereabouts, he may balk at the notion. He is not concerned.
There is just...
A balance to be had. And unfortunately, Vox is part of that balance.
Or so he may say.
Alastor wonders, as he nears, if the security is lacking since the new takeover, and he searches for means to wiggle his way past such defenses, if he can manage it. If Vox is there, he cannot be guaranteed that the television is still observing the world through his cameras. But as a secondary thought, the radio demon locates one that seems to be poised silently near to where he creeps, staring up at the lens that stares back at him, willing the image on the other end to be as free of latent distortion as he can manage.
Are you there?
If not, he will need another plan.
