#《 𓇣 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 ;; 𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 》

[staticintone]

@electriccapitalist replied to this

"Come near me and I'll rip your heart out through your teeth."

“Funny thing is… I’m pretty sure he said the same thing to me once.”

A quiet but malicious laugh.

“Wouldn’t you like to see the world a little differently? Wouldn’t you like me to be on your side? All it takes is a bit of reworking, an upgrade, if you will.”

[staticintone]

Oh, absolutely yes.

Alastor convincing Vox (and himself) that part of the reason Vox isn’t functional is because the Vees didn’t take proper care of him. They let him fall apart. They just wanted what Vox gave them after all.

Why wouldn’t they let him rot once they had it?

Alastor’s the only one with Vox’s best interests at heart.

After all, they let him get as bad as he did before his transformation.

@staticintone got me thinking about Alastor manipulating Vox into believing that he's the only person he can truly trust. He's allowed to have his little friendships at the hotel, but only because Alastor allows it. Maybe it's one of the ways he keeps him away from the Vees– he tells Vox that those people who are trying to get him back are dangerous, that they're the reason the two of them were kept apart for so long and now they want to do it again. Depending on how much information he wants to give Vox/how much Vox remembers, he could even plant the idea they're the ones who locked him up for all those years out of cruelty, or that they're the reason he "got sick" and can't do all the things he remembers he used to be able to do. Just a contingency measure in case the Vees ever succeed in getting their hands on him, or if Charlie and Vaggie ever get suspicious about where Vox came from.

[staticintone]

Absolutely obsessed with the level of manipulation that goes into RAM Alastor.

“This is the best option.”

Not only did he do right by Vox, but he’s still doing right by Vox.

“I will take care of you.”

He’s the only one who can properly care for him in his current state. No one else knows how.

“You can’t trust anyone.”

And God forbid if someone tries to open him up and undo all the work he did. Not only would they be “wasting progress” but they would hurt him! How dare they!

“You’re mine now.”

And he protects what’s his.

[staticintone]

@televisionrotsyourbrain replied to this

Weepy sopping wet tv at his feet. "Ow."

“None of that, now.”

Not so gently pulling Vox up to stand.

“You see what they’ll do to you when you’re not with me? Even the ones who you think are… similar to you will never be on your side.”

[staticintone]

This is what RAM Alastor wants to hear from Vox.

[staticintone]

@televisionrotsyourbrain && cont. from here!

The rotten core of resentment had reared its ugly head and showed his teeth. And as the television set that could scarcely be called his friend sputtered and shook, Alastor found him wanting to dig in deeper. To watch him snap completely.

But as he witnessed the breakdown in real time, the satisfaction fell away in waves.

He should have been content that Vox begged forgiveness. He should have been ecstatic to hold all the power in even the smallest of interactions. He should have been pushing harder and harder for Vox to all but crawl to him on his knees.

But it felt like he lost the game simply by playing. Especially when his opponent could no longer fight back.

“Useless.”

All that was left of his venom.

[staticintone]

“Maybe I’ll have to rewire that one too.”

Third time’s the charm after all.

[staticintone]

“give it to me straight”

“Since you’re insisting, then fine.”

Already irritated, and spitting venom as if he had the tirade prepared.

“You’re a mistake. I forged you with my own hands, and still you find ways to get under my skin. I destroyed your silly little façade, built you from the ground up, and you pick and prod at me anyway. You want the truth? I have despised you for longer than I have cared for you, and even seeing you now reminds me as to why.”

… A pause, as his sewn in smile gets in Vox’s face.

“But what does it matter? You’ll forget this by dinner anyway.”

[staticintone]

@televisionrotsyourbrain wants to meet up!

The obligations were taken care of.

Alastor had been to the Hotel, had done his part to make nice with the Princess and her little occupants. He’d brought his own attendants in kind. But something was missing, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it about time he picked up what was rightfully his?

Oh, the Vees, they could pretend all they wanted. No news for as long as he was gone? Convenient. It wasn’t as though Alastor hadn’t done this before. He knew how far to go to keep something alive.

Yes, there were risks. Obviously.

Pulling something apart, putting it back together. Over and over and over and over again. Finding the right nerve endings to peel, to tear up and replace, to make it as painful as possible, that was only step one. The rest happened internally. Between the conditioning and the actual technical reworking… it had better have shown results.

His little creation was alive. If it wasn’t, that certainly had nothing to do with him.

Getting into the building was nothing. Effortless. Even if they had been trying to keep him out, they had failed. Finding him was harder. Not impossible, following transmissions and waves that seemed to throw in wild directions.

But there he was.

How much did he remember? Erasing memories as soon as they were formed hadn’t been easy, but he’d certainly tried.

“Did you miss me?”

[staticintone]

“Did you forget?”

… “Did you all forget what the Radio Demon was capable of?”

Maybe all of Hell really did need a proper reminder. He would have thanked Vox, but the metamorphosis was a grand gesture in and of itself.

[staticintone]

Do you think you (platonically) love Vox? [RAM]

“I did love him. As much as any person ever could.”

“And then he changed. Hurt himself. Lost himself. And I loved him a little less every day.”

“Now? … Would it matter? He belongs to me either way.”

A long pause, hesitant in his answers. But not hesitant because he knows the truth, only because it surprises him too.

“No. I don’t.”

“I should—I built him with my own two hands—fixed what was broken—saved him from the mess he made for himself and for me—so why don’t I love him?!”

[staticintone]

“Don’t you miss those times?”

“You were so unhappy before, I can tell.”

“We can go back.”

“The hard work is over, I promise.”

“Breathe. Focus on me. I’m here for you.”

“This is what you really need. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“You’ll never have to worry about that again.”

“I’ve got you.”

“You are safe now.”

Random piece of dialogue that’s been bouncing around in my head:

“Ah, now there’s a nice memory. Let’s focus on that, hm?”

[staticintone]

tag drop ;;

ooc: 《 𐰢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 ;; 𝚘𝚘𝚌 》 《 𐰢 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚒 𝚊𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 ;; 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍 》 《 𐰢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 ;; 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚘 》 《 𐰢 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛 ;; 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚘 》 《 𐰢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚢? ;; 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 》 《 𐰢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 ;; 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 》

ic: 《 ☩ 𝚒'𝚖 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 && 𝚒'𝚖 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 ;; 𝚒𝚌 》 《 ☩ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 ;; 𝚊𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 》 《 ☩ 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚜 ;; 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 》 《 ☩ 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚔𝚞𝚕𝚕 ;; 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 》 《 ☩ 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 ;; 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 》 《 ☩ 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 ;; 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜 》 《 ☩ 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 ;; 𝚍𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢 》 《 ☩ 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 ;; 𝚊𝚜𝚔 》 《 ☩ 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 ;; 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 》 《 ☩ 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚒’𝚖 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 ;; 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚞𝚎 》 《 ☩ 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚘𝚠 ;; 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 》

drabbles: 《 ▶ 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 ;; 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 》 《 ▶ 𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 ;; 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟸 》 《 ▶ 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 ;; 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚗'𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 》 《 ▶ 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 ;; 𝚛𝚘��𝚒𝚎 && 𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 》

verses: 《 𓇣 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 ;; 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 》 《 𓇣 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚎 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 ;; 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 》 《 𓇣 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 ;; 𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 》 《 𓇣 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 ;; 𝚍𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 》 《 𓇣 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ;; 𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚢𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 ;; 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ;; 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 ;; 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔-𝚞𝚙 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 ;; 𝚘𝚙 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 ;; 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ;; 𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚙 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚢 ;; 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚒 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚜 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚖𝚛. 𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚘𝚛 ;; 𝚓𝚒𝚐𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜 ;; 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚙𝚜 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚒 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ;; 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚍 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜 && 𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚎) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 ;; 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚒 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚞𝚕𝚒) 𓇣 》 《 𓇣 𝚠𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ;; 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 (𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍) 𓇣 》

blog events: 《 𓇣 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ;; 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚎𝚜 (𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝) 𓇣 》

character relationships: 《 ◈ 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 ;; 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚒'𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 ;; 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕'𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 ;; 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 ;; 𝚟𝚘𝚡 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚖𝚜) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 ;; 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚔 (𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚔𝚔𝚎𝚛) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘𝚘 ;; 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚎 (𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚡𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 ;; 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚔 (𝚝𝚘𝚙-𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ;; 𝚟𝚘𝚡 (𝚟𝚘𝚡𝚞𝚕𝚒) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 ;; 𝚍𝚘𝚟𝚎 (𝚜𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 ;; 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 (𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚎) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ;; 𝚟𝚘𝚡 (𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚜𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚚𝚞𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚟𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚜 ;; 𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚑 (𝚑𝚌𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚍𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠 ;; 𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚜) ◈ 》 《 ◈ 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 ;; 𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 (𝚟𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎) ◈ 》

[staticintone]

“Oh, before we begin… let’s go live on air.”

It was time to start the process. Vox had, at the very least, stopped the verbal resistance. It was a good sign that the only noise he would get from here on out would be those wonderful screams.

They had already been moved. This whole blanket of abyss had transported them somewhere clean and quiet. Not impossible to find, by any means. And once this first stage was over, there wouldn’t be a need for the total darkness. Should someone find them, track them into the depths of Vox’s own building, it wasn’t as if they would be able to put him back together without Alastor.

As he began the broadcast, he blocked out the sound of his own voice to the listeners at home. Of course, muted only was the voice that spoke through his vocal cords. The voice over his microphone was separate, and that was over the waves as far as he could send them. The two spoke concurrently.

“Dear listeners, it’s time for a little lesson about nature.”

“I would recommend you stop thrashing. It will only make it worse once I manage to reach your nerves.”

Hopefully Vox could still hear him. It would be a real shame to have to do this twice. Dying during the process would simply waste time that they didn’t have.

“Do you know what happens to the caterpillar when it first enters a cocoon? After it’s finished molting, it weaves itself a safe haven. But what happens inside that silk prison, you ask?”

Confident now that Vox had less control of his own body than he’d threatened, Alastor finally came in close. Stepping around his unwilling participant, until he was behind him. Hands on his shoulders as the tendrils moved Vox into a position with his left arm raised over his head. It took longer than it should have, all that ridiculous wriggling.

But Alastor was patient. He tore open the sleeve as the shadows streamlined. Holding him in place still, but leaving Vox’s skin bare. Alastor brought the heel of Vox’s hand up to his lips—

“It consumes itself.”

—and tore his skin off from wrist to elbow.

The newly opened lesion was suddenly filled with darkness as the tendrils found their place within it, under it, searching through the mess of sinew and metal for very particular white matter.

“It destroys its own body until all that is left are fragments.”

He repeated the process on Vox’s right arm.

“And from those smallest pieces it’s built anew. Everything else can die, as long as it has those core components.”

“You can’t bleed out, can you? That would make this infinitely more frustrating.”

It was almost a joke in tone. He had been treating this process as identical to the original, as if his Vox and this one were one and the same. He knew the exact time stamps his Vox could last under these circumstances. Exactly how much pain he could inflict before he went silent.

“We call it metamorphosis. And despite the worry we have for the caterpillar, the butterfly that emerges is beautiful.”

Peel away the nerve ending. Tear them at the stem, and flay them open. Have no worries; they will be sewn back together before they can properly begin to regenerate. Bright green stitches against pretty white.

This may have been his least favorite part of the process, but he made sure to make it as delicate and meticulous as the others.

“So join me, listeners, as we hear firsthand just how that caterpillar transforms.”

The smashing of glass comes with a howl of pained frustration. Hands pressed against the spidering cracks in a moment of sheer desperation. Like he can fix it somehow. Too late to protect his greatest source of light as his illumination flickers.

Vision ruined as he's forced to look through the splinters. Still searching for the man who'd been close enough to strike him but slipping back the next. Managing to avoid the flailing swipe of electrified claws.

Vox's outstretched arm caught by pouncing tendrils. The overlord thrashes against the grip and is rewarded with more slithering over his limbs and torso. Holding firm. Pulling so tight as he struggles that his joints scream and warnings flash internally. Despite the threat of being drawn and quartered he's fully panicking. While logic and reason would dictate that he remain still and submit to avoid unnecessary injury or save his strength, instead he fights. Screaming and seething.

Regardless the dark appendages manage to fully keep him still with only a twitch and tremble in the end. Vox's head hangs. Face lost as his broken display flickers with test screens and static snow. Blood spilling from the cracks rather than shameful tears.

Only half listening to the radio demon ramble on. Trying to touch his network and send messages to his people. Servants and Vees. A series of s.o.s. messages and garbled pleas that he's not sure will manage to connect and send while in the beast's void.

The bomb threat had completely been a bluff. He could overclock his core sure but that required more coherent thought and Vox's mind is awash with an endless loop of 'no. fuck you. you can't. I won't. insane bastard. liar.' Snarling like a dog caught in a trap even as his energy weakens having used too much too quickly.

[staticintone]

The bolts did little but light the chasm of shadow for brief half-seconds before disappearing into the darkness.

“He refused to listen to me and got himself hurt. Have no fear, Vox. I won’t make that mistake again.”

The implication hanging heavy in the air as radio dials lit up from a hundred feet away. Matched soon by the bright green thread that held up a long standing smile.

The face fell away from view as Alastor slowly made his way into Vox’s minimal vision. No reason to rush, the chase was over. The cornered predator was all bark and no bite. They often were when caught.

“No, you won’t.”

And smashed his screen with the butt of his staff.

Right in the eye. Best to get rid of that in case Vox had any ideas about using his hypnosis. Tendrils came from the pitch black, ready to pull Vox apart should he so much as twitch. Alastor wasn’t a fool. The threat could have been real, and if it was, he would find a way to shield himself and toss Vox out of his personal pocket of void.

“This could have been so easy, my friend.”

He spoke in present tense; he knew his friend would be back soon.

“We could have skipped a few steps had you decided to join me willingly. And those are the worst ones.”

Even though Alastor kept his distance, the shadows touched Vox in his place. Dancing along his fingertips, caressing his shattered face.

“You’re making me hurt you far more than I ever wanted to. I’ll have to force you to open up to me, physically, before I can get to you mentally. It’s really a shame. All I want is to help you. Make you better. But you just had to make this difficult, didn’t you?”

A sigh, like he was disappointed and exasperated rather than the aggressor. All of this was for Vox’s benefit after all. The only thing Alastor got out of this was restoring the friendship, but that was plenty worth it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll still do it. And when it’s over, you’ll never doubt me again.”

He reforms and collides with what he assumes to be a floor cloaked in shadows. Burning like a lightning rod hoping to shy away anything that thinks to touch him.

A blazing flickering spark in the darkness. Left scrambling. Panic in full swing now. Replacing rational thought. Only able to see what the light from his body illuminates.

He tries to move his hands. Blasting electricity blindly towards the other's voice. Hoping to hit him and send him off. But it feels like there's a disconnect usually seen in a state of disrepair. He thinks to move his limbs and it lags in real time. Disjointed. Not all there. Like his soul isn't grounded.

Literal glitches making it worse. Fans whirring as he fails to process heat quickly enough.

Laughing with too high a pitch. "Keep me from drowning in shark tanks right?! Cause you protected him so well!"

A level of hysteria as Vox feels his light struggling to stay as bright.

Liar. Madman. Save him he says. If this was a joke than Vox wasn't laughing. That bridge had fallen decades ago when he'd been abandoned the first time. "Stay the f-fu-uck away from me Alastor! I'll blow myself up and take you w-with me! I swear to fucking god!" Is that a bluff? Probably.

[staticintone]

As much as his vitriol had dried up, he found new anger now.

It rose from the pits of his core, ate into his throat like acid. The fight was long over, and this found fury seemed to have no source. Not one he could place.

Was it Vox?

Obviously. But why?

The repetition served no real purpose, and it grated on Alastor’s senses the more he tried to process his own thoughts. He strained into his smile, his fingers curling and uncurling to give him something concrete to feel.

And he laughed. A cruel, grueling sound.

“You can’t even fix yourself, can you?”

Of course not, that was Alastor’s job. Always had been, and always would be.

"But - whzzzwhy? I can do better! I can! I can fix it! Fix it - fix it - fix it- fix it-! Vox began to skip near endlessly in his panic, grabbing the sides of his head as if trying to make himself stop but he didn't know how. He was just stuck on repeat, screen fizzling in and out with nothing but static as his antennas sparked.

He was dangerously close to starting an electrical fire with his lack of control.