The first few weeks are... fine. The first check-up with the hypnotized physician was invasive and unfortunately for Vox, Alastor was not in the mood to sit and pal around for a chat after getting touched, poked, prodded, and examined in so many infuriating ways. He already LOATHED touch, after all.
Four weeks later, though, he's in a calmer mood. This one will not have that invasive bevy of tests and touching and prodding. Why, Alastor even deigns to show up early today - he hadn't actually gone to see Vox in some time (outside of sending him updates and rather grouchy messages about symptoms) and with him approaching his twelfth week, it wouldn't be much longer before he was moving in for the longer haul.
So odd it is, then, that he emerged from the shadows and immediately found his way to a comfortable seat that Alastor looked certainly thicker, but not quite pudgy... he hummed away to himself, still scratching some notes about the Hotel's to-do list. Vox would undoubtedly pop in within a minute of sensing his arrival, after all.
The beauty of a position where you work long, grueling hours is that you think even LESS about gaps of work you don't entirely remember. How could this doctor possibly know they'd been hypnotized into silence involving what would undoubtedly be the biggest scandal in Hell?
Vox is shocked Alastor held up his end. The updates were appreciated, and he had a good laugh at the grouchy griping. Why, the Hotel had been receiving some odd shipments of late: Plenty of ginger and easy-to-digest options would find their ways in, all very shockingly anonymously sent. Acupressure wrist bands, too...? Huh.
But today, it truly was about a minute before the air turned sharp and sweet. Hair stood mildly on end. With a bright V arc in the air, Vox was focused on his watch when he appeared, his free hand brushing his coat.
He looked up, and quirked a brow. "...Huh. You're pretty early today. The Princess get on your nerves with her 'morning person' routine?"
"I decided to skip the morning activity involving finger painting one's feelings," Alastor rolled his eyes SO dramatically at that, shaking his head. "And introductions. Tch. I'll come back when those failures are going through the trust exercises that Vagatha arranges."
Seeing them get chucked into a turf war is always pretty funny.
"Fucking finger painting? Last I checked, the Sinners checking in are significantly older than five." He crossed the room and occupied a seat next to him. He always had a means of sitting like he was in a lounge, one ankle propped against the knee and an elbow draped off the chair back.
The question had him give a proud chuff. "Never a dull day! Gotta start plans for the next Overlord expo, even if that's months out. Got a nice stack of applicants to look over, see who's worth a damn to show off their projects on the big stage, that whole thing. Some think they can show me anything shark related and I'll fork over the cash..."
"Pfft. You are incredibly easy," Alastor snorted, far too amused as he shot a brief glance up from his notes.
Looks as though the Hotel has a round of repairs to be done - it seems like a lot, but at least with a new building it's significantly less than before. Alas, you'll always get some ruffian who breaks their toilet after a night of far too many drinks.
He lowered both feet to the floor as he sat up, and he grasped his lapels to pull them closer to his face for a little sniff. "I had like one cigarette last night, what the fuck--??"
He released the lapels and scowled as he slowly turned his head. "Oh, okay- since we're going to discuss habits to curb..."
He leaned an elbow on Alastor's armrest and narrowed his eyes. "...I know for a fact you still chew on a number of bodies that are way past their prime. Fly-blown, even. Why don't we have a chat about that?"
"...Then I suppose if I give anybody at the Hotel a call, they'll all corroborate the claim, dear? I hear the little firecracker with the spear is just refreshingly honest..."
His eyes narrowed slightly, a wordless 'watch me' as he did a bit of tapping and scrolling. How did he know any of their contact info, you ask...? How would he NOT know?
He knows everyone's information. Let's try the little grouchy lady that's practically glued to the princess. She'd happily rat Alastor out.
Could he call using his head? Sure. But it meant he couldn't smirk and rub the truth in the deer's face when he was proven 100% correct.
Whaaat... is this phone number. Who got her personal phone number...? Damn it, maybe it was someone scraping it off of her email - she knew she shouldn't have signed up for that streaming service.
"Heeeello?" she answered the phone tentatively, just in case it was a new number for one of the guests.
Holy shit she picked up!! Alastor you are so FUCKED-
"Heeeeyy!! Vox here, CEO of VoxTek Enterprises, how's it going?"
Not even a pause. "Look, I'm not going to hold you up for long and wanted to ask for a little confirmation on a certain hotel host's eating habits...!"
"IT'S A YES OR NO QUESTION! Does he or does he not eat gross overly-rotted animal corpses or people? He's not SHY about it and never was back in the day! I-"
"I'm literally not his mom, I don't watch him every five seconds-- okay, come on, you really need to get a life. Afterlife. Whatever. This is WAAAAAY creepy even for an Overlord."
He sparked. An eyelid twitched again. Vox gestured wildly to Alastor before he hissed, "Tell her you're here so she stops thinking I've gone off the fucking DEEP END??"
Checkups
Four weeks later, though, he's in a calmer mood. This one will not have that invasive bevy of tests and touching and prodding. Why, Alastor even deigns to show up early today - he hadn't actually gone to see Vox in some time (outside of sending him updates and rather grouchy messages about symptoms) and with him approaching his twelfth week, it wouldn't be much longer before he was moving in for the longer haul.
So odd it is, then, that he emerged from the shadows and immediately found his way to a comfortable seat that Alastor looked certainly thicker, but not quite pudgy... he hummed away to himself, still scratching some notes about the Hotel's to-do list. Vox would undoubtedly pop in within a minute of sensing his arrival, after all.
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Vox is shocked Alastor held up his end. The updates were appreciated, and he had a good laugh at the grouchy griping. Why, the Hotel had been receiving some odd shipments of late: Plenty of ginger and easy-to-digest options would find their ways in, all very shockingly anonymously sent. Acupressure wrist bands, too...? Huh.
But today, it truly was about a minute before the air turned sharp and sweet. Hair stood mildly on end. With a bright V arc in the air, Vox was focused on his watch when he appeared, his free hand brushing his coat.
He looked up, and quirked a brow. "...Huh. You're pretty early today. The Princess get on your nerves with her 'morning person' routine?"
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Seeing them get chucked into a turf war is always pretty funny.
"Working hard or hardly working, yourself?"
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The question had him give a proud chuff. "Never a dull day! Gotta start plans for the next Overlord expo, even if that's months out. Got a nice stack of applicants to look over, see who's worth a damn to show off their projects on the big stage, that whole thing. Some think they can show me anything shark related and I'll fork over the cash..."
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Looks as though the Hotel has a round of repairs to be done - it seems like a lot, but at least with a new building it's significantly less than before. Alas, you'll always get some ruffian who breaks their toilet after a night of far too many drinks.
"You reek of smoke."
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He lowered both feet to the floor as he sat up, and he grasped his lapels to pull them closer to his face for a little sniff. "I had like one cigarette last night, what the fuck--??"
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Hmm. Apparently despite feeling like he was in an alright mood, Alastor had been raring for an argument of some stripe.
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He leaned an elbow on Alastor's armrest and narrowed his eyes. "...I know for a fact you still chew on a number of bodies that are way past their prime. Fly-blown, even. Why don't we have a chat about that?"
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That. Is definitely not a denial about how rank some of the bodies he eats are, though.
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"...Then I suppose if I give anybody at the Hotel a call, they'll all corroborate the claim, dear? I hear the little firecracker with the spear is just refreshingly honest..."
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"Do it, then. Go right ahead and ask what Alastor the Radio Demon had for lunch - and hope you don't sound like the stalker that you are!"
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He knows everyone's information. Let's try the little grouchy lady that's practically glued to the princess. She'd happily rat Alastor out.
Could he call using his head? Sure. But it meant he couldn't smirk and rub the truth in the deer's face when he was proven 100% correct.
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"Heeeello?" she answered the phone tentatively, just in case it was a new number for one of the guests.
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"Heeeeyy!! Vox here, CEO of VoxTek Enterprises, how's it going?"
Not even a pause. "Look, I'm not going to hold you up for long and wanted to ask for a little confirmation on a certain hotel host's eating habits...!"
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Hotel host's... eating habits? ...Holy shit.
"Ooookay, this whole... stalking thing is getting out of hand. You know he hates you, right?"
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"Of course! I've just been working on a little something and needed confirmation. He still eats long-dead gross shit, right?"
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"Wh- that's not what this is about- I'm trying to win a fucking BET, here!! It's a 'yes' or 'no' question!"
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Ugh. Why... are Overlords like this. What is this petty weirdness??
"Yeaah, I'm gonna hang up now. Call back when you're... actually serious about the Hotel or something, I don't know."
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She's gonna hang up, now.
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