Vox had to give a half-hearted scoff with the adjustment to the collar and bow tie. Yeah. Definitely billing for the dry-cleaning.
But the question had him shoot a confused look at first. What was he asking? Did he know anyone with those names and- oh. Confusion glitched into amusement.
"Old-fashioned names. Why am I not surprised? ...Then again, I'm Vincent, so..."
Eh, whatever. Let's indulge.
"...I like Dorian," he admitted, but quirked a brow. "Didn't peg you for an 'Odette' kinda guy. I'm more an Audrey or Lucille kinda guy. If we're going with classics, of course."
"No 'A' names," Alastor established, pulling a handkerchief out from his own inner chest pocket to dotingly dab at Vox's face as if it weren't a complete mess because of him. "If we must have a 'V' name, I will only accept Vivienne for a daughter."
Edited (changed spelling for it to be even funnier) 2025-12-05 02:26 (UTC)
He offered no fight, but there was a brief visual glitch as each eye closed in the wake of the handkerchief wiping off the screen. It'd be streaky later, but that's why he kept a whole lot of polish stowed away in the tower for just such an occasion.
Also, what kind of name is Vivienne??
"Doesn't have to be a 'V' name. People change their names all the time down here."
A beat. "...I'm surprised you never thought to change yours."
"Maybe I picked it in life! Maybe it's the name my mama gave me! What difference does it make, when the very syllables send shivers down everyone's spine? Who would dare to try and use the name Alastor against The Radio Demon?"
Vox, maybe, at the height of their violence towards one another. It seems as though that time is passing - entering a new phase of more bitter resentment and reluctant cooperation, maybe.
Gentle touches.
Speaking of touches... he was still sitting on Vox, still pinning him to the desk.
With a chuckle, Alastor picked up the knocked over bottle of tea and finally moved off of the desk, freeing Vox from being pinned down. With a snap of his fingers, green magic swirled around his bloodied companion and replaced his clothes with a new outfit. Something fun, something nice you'd find at a black and tan club. "As much as I adore seeing you coated in your own blood, my dear, you may have a much harder time being discreet."
...Was it weird to just be okay like this, in retrospect? He always liked a pretty little thing sitting on top of hi-- Can he NOT think with his dicks right now, they were having a conversation and Alastor is an asshole who is USING HIM and he needed to get his shit together-
Alastor slipped off the desk and he sat up, yelped a bit in surprise with the swirling magic, and...
Oh.
Vox's hands flew to the lapels as he looked down upon himself, sporting a gray like an approaching storm and a dark blue neck tie.
He snorted, and made a show of rolling his eyes. "...I guess I'm not billing you for my dry cleaning. This isn't gonna pull a Cinderella on me, is it? I've got a number of meetings today."
"Hmmm! That is a fun idea," Alastor chuckled, wiping more blood off of his face with the handkerchief and taking a sip of the tea. ...He noticed, idly, that even after swallowing cables and flesh, he didn't feel ill. Maybe he just needed to get a bit of anger out.
Eh. Not to dwell on it too long. Alastor tugged at his own coat, which had gotten covered in blood too - he didn't mind that nearly as much.
"I suppose with the news out of the way, a plan in motion and my appetite settling, I could leave you to it. I'm afraid I'll need to put my affairs in order as well - if I can't figure out how to disguise my appearance, that is. Time is ticking!"
And he doesn't exactly have a figure that would make even the earliest months anything but painfully obvious. The moment he started naturally filling out, it'd be dreadfully apparent - but hopefully he can work around that.
"Let me guess - per our Deal, you want daily updates? How invasive and detailed are you demanding~?"
To be mid-meeting and suddenly have his blood-soaked suit pop on would be a nice effect, but it'd drive away advertisers. Maybe for a private party or something.
"Don't you fucking dare," he added quickly, but a corner of his mouth twitched into a grin.
But it faded as he continued. God help him, his eyes trailed to Alastor's middle before it quickly glitched and was centered on his face again. With a frame like his, it definitely wouldn't take long before it stopped being 'oh, I just tucked into a big lunch'. He put a note in mind to get arrangements started by the end of the week.
...Fuck, he needed to break the news to Val and Vel, too. If Alastor was going to wind up hiding out here, it wasn't going to be remotely subtle. Valentino was blind as shit, but he had his moments of perception.
But the question helped him lock in. Nono, he had to regain control of the situation...! With a rub of his chin, he turned and strolled, made a little circle...
"Ohh, I wouldn't go that far! I'm a busy daddy. Once a week's fine to start, so long as you're eating and don't cause any trouble for any check-ups with the physician I pick out that can keep things discreet."
But once behind Alastor, he stepped in and moved to slowly wind arms around that middle, to get both hands upon the abdomen; a covetous hold for both the deer and their precious cargo.
"But once you really start showing, I'm gonna need those updates to increase. It's a delicate condition, you understand..."
Though Alastor didn't flinch, the slight radio speaker feedback came from him anyway - the hands on his middle made his stomach flip in a way Alastor hadn't experienced before, and he wasn't sure whether he hated it or not.
"You're degenerate," Alastor replied instead, rolling his eyes a bit and not pulling away yet. He had a favor to ask, after all. "You'll keep this physician you pick out from recalling anything outside of these meetings, won't you? Put your little hypnotist trick to good use for once."
'Degenerate' only earned a chuckle. You're having his baby, what does that make you, old pal...?
"Oh, Al... Good to know you've saved me a whole shpiel! You know I'm always good for the 'hypnotist trick'."
He could always use a little hypnotism during rougher days to induce sleep, even keep more nauseous days at bay--
No. His thought thread snapped. For all that he'd subjected the sheep of Hell to his 'shepardly suggestion', Alastor was always the single, solitary figure he just never could bring himself to use it on.
Perhaps it was because it would force a victory rather than defeating him legitimately and in a way Alastor could truly witness, a matter of pride. But there was a small, soft and embarrassing corner of him that wanted something... genuine, for once. He wanted to one-up Alastor, defeat him in any way he could possibly think of, make him eat his words and the pain he caused, but... Not like that.
"Good boy. I appreciate you're being so well-behaved to keep the child safe," Alastor mocked, reaching over his shoulder to pinch the corner of Vox's monitor the way a mother would pinch a child's cheek. "You wouldn't want to show all of Hell that you're incapable of taking care of your own, after all. How irritating would it be to have people questioning your competence in creating a safe environment."
Easy. The man was so, so easy. Hopefully his child could learn just how easily to twist their father around their finger, too... hmm, especially if they end up having a daughter.
"They can detest and question me all they like - it's you who's trying to sell the image of trust, after all."
Oh my god, the way his stomach twisted- There was the fizzle and pop of static with the way the colors shifted across his face, a bright cyan hue. It left him numb to the grab, the cheeky little pinch.
"I'm-" Whoa. Too lofi. Let's refresh with a blink, try that again. Pride. Cocky pride. That's his go-to way of smoothing the speed bumps-
"You realize I've had Pentagram City in the palm of my hand for over fifty years, right? I'm a household name. You focus on your end of things."
"I always do. That's why I came straight here, after all."
Well... in truth, he'd been panicked. There were probably quite a few other avenues he could've taken, each with their own risk and reward, including finding refuge with the bleeding heart Princess.
But in that moment, getting that confirmation for the upteenth time over, he found himself immediately rushing to Vox.
...Well, Vox was responsible for this situation - better end up here with this sacrifice of his secrets than spending the pregnancy endlessly dodging Vox trying to claim ownership of the child or trying to hide it from him. Yes, this was the path of least resistance.
"And look at that, you really were the right choice! Keep it up, Vincent, and maybe the year will go by with no extra complications."
Vox stiffened briefly, and made a face. He was particularly used to 'my dear' or 'baby', or an 'old pal'. It was just how Alastor worked. However, his real name was rare enough that he almost felt more wary for it.
"I can handle you and always have, even when you keep me guessing. I knocked you up, didn't I? It's just too bad the fighting can't really happen anymore... my victim sheet goes across the gender spectrum, but I can't say I've got the stomach for swinging at somebody in your condition."
"For once, we agree!" Alastor chuckled - he'd always drawn a line in the sand about kids. Kids were... kids. They were innocent - they hadn't dug themselves into their life paths, yet.
That's why this one, growing in him - he wasn't going to cross the line there. That was a strength that women had that Alastor simply didn't.
"So sweet of you to stay your hand when I lost my temper and tore out your throat. Though, darling, you should eat less trashy food - you've got a flavor to you besides the tang of electricity. Set a good example for your little one~"
Vox's monitor brightened a bit. He couldn't help staying his hand when he was being pushed back and climbed over, which soundly beat the fuck out of anything in the fantasies he totally didn't have, shut up--
"Keep that sometimes to biweekly and I won't begrudge you," Alastor poked at Vox, a black tendril pulling the box of fries from the desk.
"And research. I won't be able to keep books on me lest someone catch sight of me reading something suspicious - I have enough to juggle just reading up on pregnancy care itself."
He had a brief snicker. "What for?? Future taste tests, you fuckin' weirdo?"
He will ignore the tingle that flit up his spine, sufficiently swiping the mirth from his face as he instead completely focused on the rest of the topic instead.
With a cocky head swaggle, he conjured four small squares a light. He took each and tossed them out, where they stretched and settled into a projected screen revealing a curated reading list, blogs from recommended nutritionists and even a rundown and analysis of the functions of the cocktail of typically prescribed prenatal vitamins. Boy, his algorithm would be FUCKED if he didn't know his way around VPNs and secure connections.
"Hmmmm," Alastor hummed instead of answering. It was the more diplomatic response, really - rather than picking a fight about how Vox really is quite lucky there are no other demons able to read the radio waves or that are particularly nosy.
Then again, he will end up obviously appearing with a child of some strange form, so... it wouldn't matter much for Vox, would it.
Hmm.
"Very well. I'm going to go back to my radio tower and endure the rest of the sick before my appetite properly returns," he grumbled, feeling the fatigue of the heightened panic attack AND the vomiting AND the flash of white-hot anger AND the frustrating confusion collapsing on him.
Ah, right, and that whole thing where pregnancy makes one lethargic anyway.
...This is going to be a miserable ten months.
"Do keep out of trouble. Our Deal means nothing if you do something foolhardy. Rosie is the most dangerous Overlord on her side of the Pentagram."
The holograms dissolved in a small shower of light as he scoffed.
"Foolhardy nothing- There are plenty of ways to bury someone, and all without lifting a fucking finger." He turned, and walked to his tank. He paused and let the soft blue glow bathe him, his own comforting color, and folded his arms behind his back.
"She makes any sort of move, and I can turn all of Hell against her."
"Just remember it's not just you or I on the line for failure." Alastor warned, glancing over his shoulder. "For the child at least, put aside your Icarus and instead play Daedalus. I'll update you later this week."
Only lingering a moment longer to stare at Vox's back, Alastor melted away into the shadows - he and Vox both had many, many things to dwell on and think about without being at each other's throats much longer.
Again with the Icarus! When would he EVER try and fly toward the sun? He was measured. He knew what he could do, knew how high he could climb, become so much brighter.
It's why he always had plans. Alastor needed to worry about himself.
Vox offered a nod, and he turned his head to see Alastor go. The CEO paused, listened to the silence for a few more moments before he turned and staggered to his desk.
He sat heavy in his seat that the deer had occupied not long before, eased on his elbows, reached a shaky hand for his nearly forgotten drink.
"Fuck. ...Fuck." He drank, held the glass, drained every last bit of the whiskey in the hopes that it'd cool his hot, dry mouth.
It didn't.
As he lowered the glass and brought his forehead to his unoccupied, quaking hand, he listened instead to his unsteady breathing.
He should be arrogant. Cocky. Very HAW HAW about this whole thing, and in a way, he was.
But here, alone in the office, Vincent Whittman allowed himself to be terrified.
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divinetree2025-10-07 08:11 pm
no subject
But the question had him shoot a confused look at first. What was he asking? Did he know anyone with those names and- oh. Confusion glitched into amusement.
"Old-fashioned names. Why am I not surprised? ...Then again, I'm Vincent, so..."
Eh, whatever. Let's indulge.
"...I like Dorian," he admitted, but quirked a brow. "Didn't peg you for an 'Odette' kinda guy. I'm more an Audrey or Lucille kinda guy. If we're going with classics, of course."
no subject
no subject
Also, what kind of name is Vivienne??
"Doesn't have to be a 'V' name. People change their names all the time down here."
A beat. "...I'm surprised you never thought to change yours."
no subject
Vox, maybe, at the height of their violence towards one another. It seems as though that time is passing - entering a new phase of more bitter resentment and reluctant cooperation, maybe.
Gentle touches.
Speaking of touches... he was still sitting on Vox, still pinning him to the desk.
With a chuckle, Alastor picked up the knocked over bottle of tea and finally moved off of the desk, freeing Vox from being pinned down. With a snap of his fingers, green magic swirled around his bloodied companion and replaced his clothes with a new outfit. Something fun, something nice you'd find at a black and tan club. "As much as I adore seeing you coated in your own blood, my dear, you may have a much harder time being discreet."
no subject
Alastor slipped off the desk and he sat up, yelped a bit in surprise with the swirling magic, and...
Oh.
Vox's hands flew to the lapels as he looked down upon himself, sporting a gray like an approaching storm and a dark blue neck tie.
He snorted, and made a show of rolling his eyes. "...I guess I'm not billing you for my dry cleaning. This isn't gonna pull a Cinderella on me, is it? I've got a number of meetings today."
no subject
Eh. Not to dwell on it too long. Alastor tugged at his own coat, which had gotten covered in blood too - he didn't mind that nearly as much.
"I suppose with the news out of the way, a plan in motion and my appetite settling, I could leave you to it. I'm afraid I'll need to put my affairs in order as well - if I can't figure out how to disguise my appearance, that is. Time is ticking!"
And he doesn't exactly have a figure that would make even the earliest months anything but painfully obvious. The moment he started naturally filling out, it'd be dreadfully apparent - but hopefully he can work around that.
"Let me guess - per our Deal, you want daily updates? How invasive and detailed are you demanding~?"
no subject
"Don't you fucking dare," he added quickly, but a corner of his mouth twitched into a grin.
But it faded as he continued. God help him, his eyes trailed to Alastor's middle before it quickly glitched and was centered on his face again. With a frame like his, it definitely wouldn't take long before it stopped being 'oh, I just tucked into a big lunch'. He put a note in mind to get arrangements started by the end of the week.
...Fuck, he needed to break the news to Val and Vel, too. If Alastor was going to wind up hiding out here, it wasn't going to be remotely subtle. Valentino was blind as shit, but he had his moments of perception.
But the question helped him lock in. Nono, he had to regain control of the situation...! With a rub of his chin, he turned and strolled, made a little circle...
"Ohh, I wouldn't go that far! I'm a busy daddy. Once a week's fine to start, so long as you're eating and don't cause any trouble for any check-ups with the physician I pick out that can keep things discreet."
But once behind Alastor, he stepped in and moved to slowly wind arms around that middle, to get both hands upon the abdomen; a covetous hold for both the deer and their precious cargo.
"But once you really start showing, I'm gonna need those updates to increase. It's a delicate condition, you understand..."
no subject
"You're degenerate," Alastor replied instead, rolling his eyes a bit and not pulling away yet. He had a favor to ask, after all. "You'll keep this physician you pick out from recalling anything outside of these meetings, won't you? Put your little hypnotist trick to good use for once."
no subject
"Oh, Al... Good to know you've saved me a whole shpiel! You know I'm always good for the 'hypnotist trick'."
He could always use a little hypnotism during rougher days to induce sleep, even keep more nauseous days at bay--
No. His thought thread snapped. For all that he'd subjected the sheep of Hell to his 'shepardly suggestion', Alastor was always the single, solitary figure he just never could bring himself to use it on.
Perhaps it was because it would force a victory rather than defeating him legitimately and in a way Alastor could truly witness, a matter of pride. But there was a small, soft and embarrassing corner of him that wanted something... genuine, for once. He wanted to one-up Alastor, defeat him in any way he could possibly think of, make him eat his words and the pain he caused, but... Not like that.
no subject
Easy. The man was so, so easy. Hopefully his child could learn just how easily to twist their father around their finger, too... hmm, especially if they end up having a daughter.
"They can detest and question me all they like - it's you who's trying to sell the image of trust, after all."
no subject
"I'm-" Whoa. Too lofi. Let's refresh with a blink, try that again. Pride. Cocky pride. That's his go-to way of smoothing the speed bumps-
"You realize I've had Pentagram City in the palm of my hand for over fifty years, right? I'm a household name. You focus on your end of things."
no subject
Well... in truth, he'd been panicked. There were probably quite a few other avenues he could've taken, each with their own risk and reward, including finding refuge with the bleeding heart Princess.
But in that moment, getting that confirmation for the upteenth time over, he found himself immediately rushing to Vox.
...Well, Vox was responsible for this situation - better end up here with this sacrifice of his secrets than spending the pregnancy endlessly dodging Vox trying to claim ownership of the child or trying to hide it from him. Yes, this was the path of least resistance.
"And look at that, you really were the right choice! Keep it up, Vincent, and maybe the year will go by with no extra complications."
no subject
Vox stiffened briefly, and made a face. He was particularly used to 'my dear' or 'baby', or an 'old pal'. It was just how Alastor worked. However, his real name was rare enough that he almost felt more wary for it.
"I can handle you and always have, even when you keep me guessing. I knocked you up, didn't I? It's just too bad the fighting can't really happen anymore... my victim sheet goes across the gender spectrum, but I can't say I've got the stomach for swinging at somebody in your condition."
no subject
That's why this one, growing in him - he wasn't going to cross the line there. That was a strength that women had that Alastor simply didn't.
"So sweet of you to stay your hand when I lost my temper and tore out your throat. Though, darling, you should eat less trashy food - you've got a flavor to you besides the tang of electricity. Set a good example for your little one~"
no subject
"...I eat fine!!"
A beat.
"Sometimes you want a burger, though...!"
no subject
"And research. I won't be able to keep books on me lest someone catch sight of me reading something suspicious - I have enough to juggle just reading up on pregnancy care itself."
no subject
He will ignore the tingle that flit up his spine, sufficiently swiping the mirth from his face as he instead completely focused on the rest of the topic instead.
With a cocky head swaggle, he conjured four small squares a light. He took each and tossed them out, where they stretched and settled into a projected screen revealing a curated reading list, blogs from recommended nutritionists and even a rundown and analysis of the functions of the cocktail of typically prescribed prenatal vitamins. Boy, his algorithm would be FUCKED if he didn't know his way around VPNs and secure connections.
"Uh- who do you think you're talking to? Hm?"
no subject
Then again, he will end up obviously appearing with a child of some strange form, so... it wouldn't matter much for Vox, would it.
Hmm.
"Very well. I'm going to go back to my radio tower and endure the rest of the sick before my appetite properly returns," he grumbled, feeling the fatigue of the heightened panic attack AND the vomiting AND the flash of white-hot anger AND the frustrating confusion collapsing on him.
Ah, right, and that whole thing where pregnancy makes one lethargic anyway.
...This is going to be a miserable ten months.
"Do keep out of trouble. Our Deal means nothing if you do something foolhardy. Rosie is the most dangerous Overlord on her side of the Pentagram."
no subject
"Foolhardy nothing- There are plenty of ways to bury someone, and all without lifting a fucking finger." He turned, and walked to his tank. He paused and let the soft blue glow bathe him, his own comforting color, and folded his arms behind his back.
"She makes any sort of move, and I can turn all of Hell against her."
no subject
Only lingering a moment longer to stare at Vox's back, Alastor melted away into the shadows - he and Vox both had many, many things to dwell on and think about without being at each other's throats much longer.
no subject
It's why he always had plans. Alastor needed to worry about himself.
Vox offered a nod, and he turned his head to see Alastor go. The CEO paused, listened to the silence for a few more moments before he turned and staggered to his desk.
He sat heavy in his seat that the deer had occupied not long before, eased on his elbows, reached a shaky hand for his nearly forgotten drink.
"Fuck. ...Fuck." He drank, held the glass, drained every last bit of the whiskey in the hopes that it'd cool his hot, dry mouth.
It didn't.
As he lowered the glass and brought his forehead to his unoccupied, quaking hand, he listened instead to his unsteady breathing.
He should be arrogant. Cocky. Very HAW HAW about this whole thing, and in a way, he was.
But here, alone in the office, Vincent Whittman allowed himself to be terrified.