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??"
More sparks. Glitching. The hand upon the arm rest tightened enough that metallic claws delved into the material as he jammed the phone into his coat pocket with the other.
"Wh-h-hy a-are your a-sso-ssociates so-o FRUS-RUSTRATING!?"
When he finally got a hold of himself, Alastor reached over and slapped Vox's back.
"What in the WORLD did you THINK was going to happen? HAH! HAHAH! Oh, yes, I'm just going to call up one of the Hotel managers - a Hotel that my company has been spinning in a harsh light - and ask her like she and I are good pals whether she knows what the Radio Demon's eating habits are like in the past six weeks! Oh, fuck! That's rich!"
Really, he'd hoped one of them would have caught him during a meal that Vox knew DAMNED WELL Alastor was having at least once. But what's-her-face was talking about stalking? Date ideas?? Like he could ever talk him into that that would ever happen!
One breath. Two. Counting down from ten. The sparks slowed. One last glitch later, and his screen refreshed to glower at him.
"Regardless of how that call went, asshole, you get my point, right?"
He huffed. Shit. He'd read senses could grow sensitive. His sense of taste, his sense of smell could sharpen to a point where stronger smells can be nauseating. Even after a shower and a change of clothes, he could still pick up something off of him, enough to remark upon it.
"I can... try... to curb the smoking. Work just gets to be a pain in the ass some days, and I'm already cutting back on the junk food as it is." He wasn't about to say things were better in the 50s when even doctors recommended a smoke for stress relief and even health and sex appeal. It'd been almost 80 years. Everyone knew better, even if he still engaged in the vice. "But while YOU enjoy your fair share of disgusting shit..."
If Al could touch, so could he. Those same claws that created violent divots in the arm rest settled upon the Radio Demon's middle with considerable care. "It's not just you that you need to think about, is it?"
Now, Vox was always a slightly obnoxiously touchy guy, enough that he paused as his gaze flicked down.
Alastor let out a winded 'wheeewww' to trail off his laugh, wiping a nonexistent tear from the corner of his eye. Vox was scrutinizing him intently, caught sight of something, felt the undergarment through his shirt (and that touch to his middle kept making Alastor's stomach twist a little in a distracting but not wholly unpleasant way) - but Alastor played it off, leaning in a little and giving a cutesy, coquettish little wiggle of his shoulders.
"Oh, Vincent, I've been a good boy with my diet for your baby," he cooed, riding that line of condescending and teasing. "I've been extra good and adding extra veggies to my jambalaya, even! You act like I wouldn't be meticulous about it."
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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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fuck his life.
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"Hah... hah, hahahah, hahahahahaaaaah!"
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"Wh-h-hy a-are your a-sso-ssociates so-o FRUS-RUSTRATING!?"
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When he finally got a hold of himself, Alastor reached over and slapped Vox's back.
"What in the WORLD did you THINK was going to happen? HAH! HAHAH! Oh, yes, I'm just going to call up one of the Hotel managers - a Hotel that my company has been spinning in a harsh light - and ask her like she and I are good pals whether she knows what the Radio Demon's eating habits are like in the past six weeks! Oh, fuck! That's rich!"
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he could ever talk him into thatthat would ever happen!One breath. Two. Counting down from ten. The sparks slowed. One last glitch later, and his screen refreshed to glower at him.
"Regardless of how that call went, asshole, you get my point, right?"
He huffed. Shit. He'd read senses could grow sensitive. His sense of taste, his sense of smell could sharpen to a point where stronger smells can be nauseating. Even after a shower and a change of clothes, he could still pick up something off of him, enough to remark upon it.
"I can... try... to curb the smoking. Work just gets to be a pain in the ass some days, and I'm already cutting back on the junk food as it is." He wasn't about to say things were better in the 50s when even doctors recommended a smoke for stress relief and even health and sex appeal. It'd been almost 80 years. Everyone knew better, even if he still engaged in the vice. "But while YOU enjoy your fair share of disgusting shit..."
If Al could touch, so could he. Those same claws that created violent divots in the arm rest settled upon the Radio Demon's middle with considerable care. "It's not just you that you need to think about, is it?"
Now, Vox was always a slightly obnoxiously touchy guy, enough that he paused as his gaze flicked down.
Then back up. "...You're wearing something."
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"Oh, Vincent, I've been a good boy with my diet for your baby," he cooed, riding that line of condescending and teasing. "I've been extra good and adding extra veggies to my jambalaya, even! You act like I wouldn't be meticulous about it."
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