#VIDEOKILLED

[radioiaci]

Once the dishes were clean, Alastor set about tidying the rest of the kitchen. Had a bit of his own fixation issues - just needed to be doing something with his hands. Less on stimulus, more focused on tactile input. Kept his mind going as he made his way through his own thoughts, absently answering Vox's question as though he was only marginally considering it a two-way conversation.

"I do. A list of places." Some of which he muttered near inaudibly to himself. As though he were trying to recall. The parish itself, the waterway, the Pointe aux Chenes and the canal... The road that was supposed to lead to New Orleans proper. Though he was sure it was all modernized now. Which could make things difficult. There could be plenty of development where before there was not. The thought frustrated.

Though not as frustrating as Vox's incorrect recitation of their destination.

Alastor rolled his eyes.

"Parish. Not Paris. They are effectively Louisiana's counties. LaFourche was one of the many sugar parishes - where sugar cane plantations were established before and after the-"

Why was he bothering to explain? Vox would not retain an iota of it. Which meant that neither was he interested in telling Vox why he wanted to go there, either. He would simply dismiss that too.

"Nevermind. You are there to accompany, not to direct. Don't concern yourself with it."

The tidying done, Alastor made short work of manifesting a small tie with which to bring up to tie his hair up into a tail. Amid some of the things he allowed to linger around the flat, he'd left any number of small pocket-novels around, and he would nab one of them from its hiding place as he made his way towards the bedroom.

"I am going to read."

And he would settle on the bed and alleviate his own annoyances and worries by investing himself in the story for a time. It was easier to do that than try to confront them.

Vox realized why he was smoking so much was because he didn’t have his phone in reach. To addicted to madly addicted cortisol for some century or more to ever truly relax organically. Hyperactive in his head unless stimulated otherwise. And probably hedging into the territory of needing other fixes.. but if they were spending the night here he would sneak away and find a moment to indulge. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of it

Or even hid it consciously. Always perception. Illusion of being ever in control and that one step ahead.

Where was his phone…

He sat up more scratching at his inner thigh near his boxers with his claws as he looked around.

And then realized Alastor had been talking, woops. Good thing he was adept at such a recovery.

“Do you have a to do list made already..?” He prompted and then got up. Moving toward the bedroom but left the door open so the radio could be heard. (If Vox was listening.)

He just pulled on a night shirt and some loose pants. They were understated but they still matched. Not flashy this time.

Vox came back out when he found his phone and looked sleepier now that he had his loungewear on. Or maybe it was just that he looked softer without his pressed tailored shoulder-padded suit.

“You never mentioned why we’re going to… paris…” he waved his hand dismissively. Not putting the effort into remembering the name. And now standing sort of in the middle of the room looking at his phone while he scrolled his Vwitter.

The antenna were at least as relaxed as they usually were.

[radioiaci]

▹@videokilled

'Early next week' was not much of a wait - but enough to make him marginally impatient. On the day of, however, he'd made an effort. To dress in something comfortable enough that made sense for wine and for... possibly more. If he was able to chase his impulse to confess something to the television in lieu of their earlier subject of conversation.

The Hotel was facing some rather dire realities - the exorcists would undoubtedly be back. Alastor had heard tell of Adam's lieutenant retreating with an obvious chip on her shoulder - not likely to let the savage killing of the First Man to go without retribution. And though the efforts to maintain the hotel's defenses were well underway, Alastor had some small doubts that they would be enough.

And so there was no better time to pose a possible question. Vox had connections that could make it happen- could indulge the radio demon's wishes and desires if he so pleased.

Now all it took was some convincing.

Which was why he'd taken it upon himself to gather a few of the other's ideal things - a sampling of both cigarettes and cigars, liquor to sample if the wine was not enough, coffee for... presumably the morning after (if Vox did not see fit to abscond before the end of the night) and just a small surprise that would hopefully too make up for his faulty decision making with the bat.

Alastor was not a gifting sort. So this was quite a bit of effort for him.

And he'd made certain to arrive at the apartment first, settled in a rather luxurious and calm lay across the couch with a book in hand that he thumbed through, comfortable in his sweater as he waited.

He just hoped Vox would be in a decent mood.

[alteredassistant]

I need coffee..

He didn't need to hear anything else- going off to get Vox's preferred drink and coming back with it. He held it out to the overlord, other arm holding the tablet close to his chest as he waited for him to take it.

[infernal-blaze]

Vox (me) hosting a Minecraft server for the homies @radioiaci @ducktastic-dad @videokilled

[ghostlyrps]

@videokilled

Ghost didn't often visit bars.

Usually when they did, they were usually one-and-done.

Tonight, however, they were in a shitty mood. They'd had a lot of things on their mind- things they didn't like to think about. Their life, their sin, everything they'd ever done wrong.

They wanted to forget. So they asked for fries and a cocktail- and asked the Bartender to keep said cocktails coming. The price didn't matter to them, though they were sure they'd regret it later. That was fine, they could skip a few meals if it meant numbing themself to everything.

Now, most Sinners would be wise enough to get away from the Overlord who entered the bar. Ghost simply didn't care at the moment, however. So when Vox, someone they already weren't fond of, took a seat next to them, they merely watched him out of the corner of their eye, observing.

After a good five minutes or so, they weren't really paying attention, their eyes narrowed at the Media Demon, ears pinning back before they finally spoke.

"...you really are an asshole, you know that?"

[mothvalentino]

@videokilled

ཐིཋྀ "By the way, it's been too long since we've gotten drunk together."

[sinnervalentino]

💋

There was something bothering Vox, Valentino could always tell these things. The moth demon didn't know what it was, but there was something there. There were no others out there that he cared about or for more than the other Vees-- he couldn't let this foul mood stay and strangle the air. So he grabbed Vox by the arms with his lower arms and pulled him close, then took him by the screen with his upper arms and leaned in to plant a kiss right on those digital lips. It was lewd and dramatic, but that was the point. Who could stay upset when Valentino kissed them like that? Nobody.

[the-smallest-star]

Should the celebrity be concerned? He feels like he should be... he's going to hobble away on his crutch.

@angelsandemons @videokilled

[poisonedspider]

Val told me something wild about you recently, would you be happy to know you helped create a new shelf product?

".....oh fucking geezus." Palm already to forehead, because he can only imagine. "Dare ah' even fuckin' ask?"

[lilitophidian]

Hey I literally love your Lilith and I love the plots and your threads are one of the scrolling dead stops where I have to go back up and read it LOL. I love how much thought you put into it and how much care you put in your writing and I THINK YOU DO A REALLY GOOD JOB <3 Thank you for sharing your time by posting your writing

Aaah, oh my gosh, thank you!!! This means a lot to mean you are literally soooo freaking sweet, and after having such a big hiatus from writing and dealing with a lot, this makes me so happy to hear!! Every time someone tells me they enjoy my little bs, it makes me wanna write novels tbh. If you ever wanna try writing when I'm back to regular responses completely, do let me know!! I'm slightly all over the place still but always open!!!

[radioiaci]

When the morning had made itself known - Alastor had been through his own jarring adjustment back to the waking world. The first part being that he had slept. Without nightmares. For the first time in what felt like months. And though he was sure it had not been for very long - possibly only two hours or less - it was still remarkable that it had happened at all.

But he knew that he could not stay here for very long. He would be missed if he did not assume his normal duties.

Eventually, he would peel himself free of Vox's arms and get himself dressed. Quiet as he did so - ensuring that he did not wake the other. Practiced and experienced with that, at least. Though he would not leave Vox in the lurch, as it were.

With some effort, he manifested a note. Just a small one. With his haphazard scrawl on it to leave on the nightstand. Along with it, he left two cigarettes before he leaned to give a light fiddle with one of Vox's antennae. A silent farewell as he absconded into shadow once again and back towards the hotel.

The note was simple:

Find me again soon. I'm sorry I could not stay. - A

Hopefully it would be enough of a reassurance in his absence.

Vox did stirr when his radio sleep plush melted away. Too much of a light sleeper at times for that to escape unnoticed, but when he just saw Alastor move into the bathroom he yawned and wiggled under the blankets, leaving some untucked space for the other to return too.

He was dozing off again when his company returned. And the snuggling resumed just as securely. The glass screen pressed against the back of the deer's head.

He slept heavily, and much longer than the radio. His own alarm didn't even wake him up. It was one of the best sleeps he'd had in his afterlife. Wrapped up partially in sheets and hugging Alastor very snugly. Smelling that same shampoo throughout his dreams and finding comfort in it. Smell comforted people the fastest, he thought about that a lot but never thought himself to have a smell that would comfort him until that bath they'd shared.

When Vox did finally stir he moved just a little and his eyes opened first. Blue little pupils peaking from cerise colored slits. Then blinked open much faster when he was confused at the amount of light that was coming through the curtains. His eyes' gaze cut down to the pillow that he was hugging tightly and flinched as if it had erupted.

Pushing it away from him and sitting up sharply he looked around taking in his whereabouts. He remembered last night but not all of it.. or more like he didn't remember if it actually happened that way.

He was still naked, but he was completely clean. He didn't remember cleaning himself. Wet dream? No.

No he had fallen asleep with Alastor. The demon certainly wasn't here now though. He couldn't hear him in the kitchen either.

His chest twisted with something even he could tell was an acute sadness. Maybe a bit of fear. Maybe a growing shred of fear. That he hadn't even said bye. That his contract had dragged him away and he hadn't even been awake to protest or protect him.

Vox patted around the bed looking for his phone, then checked the night stands.

[radioiaci]

@videokilled ⧐ Vox notices Alastor across the floor and waits to catch his eye then flips him off, he's probably halfway to drunkUNPROMPTED ASKS.

Aggravating.

Alastor is minding his business - he does not need the added stress from seeing Vox in attendance. Not very sober himself, in fact, and unwilling to let the offense go unanswered.

So he returns the gesture, that grin of his never leaving. In fact, he will set down his wine glass and do it with both hands.

Subtle.

[alteredassistant]

what's your name again? I'm claiming you as a dependent on my taxes

videokilled asked: Hurry up the deadline is today.

"Um- It's Trevor but...I don't think that's how...taxes work,"

[radiostarsz]

"Limbo could never tarnish my reputation!"

Alastor retorts, his eyes gleaming. A hearty laugh escapes his throat and he looks at the tip of his nails, which were sharpened to a point. He flicks his hand, as if dismissing the other demon's words. "I, unlike others, have no use for cheap propaganda". Alastor's voice brims with an air of self-assurance and superiority "it takes just one buzz from me to take all your numbers away..." He snickers, his voice becoming deep and dark. "Oh, I wish I had done it earlier!" Alastor's smile is as wide as the Chesire cat's. His eyes gleam again " Although Im curious ...you seem to bear the marks of one well-acquainted with the realm of hate mail..." he trails off, his tone dripping with venom.

"Perhaps you have the pleasure of experiencing it on a daily basis, hmm?"

╔═ -V- ═╗ "I don't know WHAT you're talking about."

Vox's voice was- tense.

"My ratings are through the roof! Trending even- ever heard of binge-watching? .. Why what have you heard??"

He checks himself in a small pause pretty visibly. Then decides on rolling his eyes. His mouth shrinks from big and toothy to low and wrinkled. Attempting to go back to unbothered.

"Anyway if you're insinuating that I would send shallow comments using 'anonymous' you're wrong. It's not me. Radio however is decrepit. Sorry you had to hear it through tumblr's anon."

He looks away but cant for long despite it- when he's right there. The cyan pupils snap back without his head moving, resulting in a nosey persistent side-eye stare.

The Flatscreen Fiasco sighs audibly in a showy way (regardless if it was seen) his shoulders moving just a bit and looks to his claws as if he recently manicured the metal. That tech-illiterate redheaded walkman wouldn't know even if it was him...

"I could ask you the same thing- or is groveling for bellhop employment just adequate quid pro quo now.. wild what 7 years of limbo will do to ones ratings."

[mothvalentino]

@videokilled beach event starter

It doesn't take long until Val spots the TV demon reclining on a shark-themed beach towel. He sits down beside him, appreciating his outfit choice with a broad smile.

ཐིཋྀ "I knew this color would look amazing on you.", he comments, chuckling lightly before he feels the shiny blue fabric.

"Let's get some sunscreen on you."

With practiced ease, the moth strips Vox of his open shirt and directs him to lie down on his stomach. He picks up the bottle of sunscreen and sprays it on the expanse of his back, then uses all four of his hands to massage it in.

[e-m-p-error]

💀

Send 💀 to walk in on my muse killing someone.

[ Valentino ]

With a loud cry of pain, Valentino hoisted the Sinner in his upper right hand higher above his head to avoid getting cut again. He hadn't expected the cat to claw his chest like that, aiming for his eyes next as he held her up by her neck. She flailed wildly, knowing that her time was up but unwilling to accept it without a fight.

Her claws caught again, this time on his cheek, leaving behind a torrent of hot pink blood flooding his pale lavender skin. With it went his glasses, and he growled when his sight was so compromised he could barely see. Quick as a flash, his upper left hand lifted and pressed the muzzle of Moneyshot against the soft palette beneath her chin.

"¡Descansa en pedazos, hijo de puta codicioso!" He snapped suddenly before firing, putting six bullets in her head before throwing her to the ground. Blood streaked behind her on his epoxy floor, and he wiped his hand on his ruined dress, his wings fluttering in agitation. (Rest in pieces, you greedy son of a bitch!)

"Hey, Vox!" He called, his digital assistant beeping loudly from its spot on the ceiling, "Lights off!" He couldn't fucking see, and everything was hurting. The lights dimmed, then cut out completely, leaving him in the dark, "Curtains drawn one hundred percent." Following his order, the curtains were loosed and filled the giant picture window, plunging his penthouse into darkness.

It was only now that he realized his arm was pretty torn to Hell, too, and he probably looked a fright. Turning, he paused when he saw a familiar glow in the doorway to his living room, pausing for a second before sighing.

"If you're here to piss on my parade, don't. Bitch had it coming. No-fucking-body cheats Valentino out of his fucking money."