divinetree | It's not that complicated, no matter what they say

"Mmmhmm," Rosie hummed, picking up the paper to give it a slow read-over, calmly sipping tea as she read.

And despite an initial tensing of the shoulders, Alastor made proper eye contact with Vox, assessing him. The scooting closer, the arm over his shoulder, the possessive signal... Al didn't react much, save for a gentle touch on Vox's knee under the table.

She thought me leaving without a word would have a more urgent impact, he pinged silently. From how ready for a fight Vox clearly was, it worked - Alastor was a bit disappointed with his picturebox being so predictable and easily manipulated, but that disappointment ebbed behind a slight pride he felt in his mate coming in with fangs bared in a strong-willed grin anyway. She's going to adjust the terms. I hope you're ready to unclog toilets.

"Hmmm..." Rosie hummed, an old typewriter appearing in front of her and floating in the air as she looped an ink ribbon into the thing and started retyping the contract. "Support as the hotelier and nudging the Princess in one way or another as I dictate, using your power and resources to protect the Hotel and its residents, and no running support out of one side of your mouth and sabotage out of the other. So long as you're doing this for me, I won't dictate where Alastor can be."

"Or what I can do?"

"Now, I didn't say that, you cheeky thing. It's not a good idea to go Overlord Hunting again any time soon in your condition anyway - just focus on that, deer."

"Oh, come now, Rosie - I wouldn't go hunting! No, no... I wouldn't endanger the child like that, what a waste. But unexpected circumstances can pop up! Shouldn't I be able to defend myself?"

"Hah! Nice try. You've got a nice strong partner there, appreciate him taking care of you. Live it up for once, you high-strung prideful thing. Oh! Of course silly me, nearly forgot the mutual agreed secrecy - not a word from my lips or yours about aaaany of these details on the agreement or your budding little family, naturally!"

It was normal to go over and redraft contracts a number of times before terms were where both would agree. So Rosie getting out that typewriter and working things up further didn't garner so much as a blink.

What did get a blink, however, was the touch to the knee. It had been bobbing a bit, a jitter in the heel, and it stilled. But what did he mean by unclogging toilets...? That's not what managers do, you have maintenance guys for that, what's he talking abou--

"Naturally! Now, a little assured alignment of goals and pillars of stability over the course of this whole transition never hurts, hm? I will exercise what actions you would have me do so long as I, in good faith, recognize them as my own, cored by my extensive experience and savvy as a successful, long-running business owner, of course. Socioeconomics can be so fickle sometimes, right?? Good old unexpected circumstances..."

"Hah! You've got all those funny buzzwords, aren't you cute-- worked in news at some point, too, didn't ya?" Rosie chuckled, pausing to review some wording before re-typing it. Plucking it from her typewriter, she crossed out the wording she'd touched up with a fountain pen, gave the second draft a read before passing it back to Vox.

Roughly the same agreement, simply more clauses clarifying specifics and closing possible loopholes. Businessmen types always needed the tighter knots, after all.

"Alastor, should we have any clauses about him using his little eye trick?" Rosie asked, smiling in amusement at Alastor rolling his eyes.

"He'll find out soon enough that he'll only make things harder for himself if he misuses it."

"Hah! True enough. You know, in a funny way, maybe this is good practice - stepping away from the profit driven method of running your usual business to actually being a caretaker. Getcha in the right mindset instead of ogling people's necks and chests with barely contained bloodlust. Hah, men, so emotional."

Edited 2026-01-09 19:11 (UTC)

"For a spell," he noted idly, and accepted the second draft for his own look-over.

Hmm. He'd seen where she closed some things off. But there was something in here he could still use. Plus, getting in close with the princess could only be useful for another idea he had, and all without crushing her OR the hotel.

"I have plenty of caretaking experience," he noted, quirking a brow at Rosie. He'll let the 'emotional' remark go and opt for another weapon instead:

"Maintaining the temperature of several many-thousand-gallon tanks, maintaining water salinity and weight with supplemental pump maintenance and water removal, scheduling mealtimes and feeding a proper balanced diet, regular checks for cybernetic implant and augment part functionality, occasional barnacle removal, greenery maintenance and swap-planting for variety to ensure a balance of enrichment, not to mention the attention needed to balance day-night cycles for healthier sleep patterns..."

He lifted his head proudly. "...And plenty of tummy pets. You know, people underestimate just how needy but affectionate sharks truly are!"

Rosie's playful grin only grew wider and wider, making Alastor's ears drop immediately - he knew exactly what was coming before she even opened her mouth.

"Don't start--"

"That explains why you were looking for shark teeth that one time! Didja ever give him that shark tooth necklace? I always thought you were just having a little yearnin' for something tropical!"

"That was a long time ago, Rosie," Alastor groaned, folding his arms and pouting even harder. "And it's not unusual to give your pal a celebratory gift - he'd made quite the accomplishment that year, that's all."

"Oh, yeah, quite an accomplishment! Heheheh. He's learning all sorts of fun new things today, isn't he?"

"Entirely unnecessarily, might I add."

He startled briefly, and looked between them. He briefly thought about the little box he had stowed away in a personal safe. Really, he shouldn't be surprised Rosie knew about it somehow, but... he talked about it?...

I... still have it.

"Hah! Little did I know I was getting an exclusive tell-all, huh...? Hey Al- you ever decide on a memoir, I've got at least twelve half-decent writers you can call on!"

He was still leaning.

Vox sat up straighter and withdrew, clearing his throat awkwardly and tapping the documents against the table to line them up.

"Right! Yes, well- I think what we've got here is solid. All what needs to be added I suppose is the start date. I do need to finish a few matters and make a few phone calls before I make the trip out, of course, but I don't see myself taking too long. You know how it is- you'd think the city would somehow burn down without me!"

"Hah! Don't you worry, this old town isn't going anywhere. At worst people will have a slow week, get caught up on some reading or something," Rosie chuckled, penning a start date of that following Monday. The sooner the better! "There! If we're all in agreement, here's my signature - now don't you two hop away too fast, I'll go grab your early baby shower gifts right now."

With a signature and a moment for Rosie to step away, for just a moment, the two men at least had a room to themselves.

"Relentless gossip."

Edited 2026-01-09 21:31 (UTC)

That's... right. With the secrecy, there wouldn't exactly be a baby shower, huh? Then again, Alastor would never agree to such a thing, and they trended toward being kind of embarrassing anyway. "Aww! You didn't have to go through all that trouble...!"

Vox watched her go, then reached into his coat for his pen. In the resultant quiet, Alastor's remark, Vox sighed and shook his head.

"She's sure having the time of her afterlife..." The laughter stung.

"That could have gone worse, at least."

"I was going to say that I can't believe you took the bait, but that would be a lie - I absolutely knew you would," Alastor griped, giving up on his fork and knife manners to grab the last half of the roast and eat the rest in one hungry, tearing bite. Damn relentless hunger...

"Dangerous but endearing. Not to be underestimated. Quick to quash any resistance..."

Either with force or, in this case... by playing the other angle. A gossamer leash that wouldn't be broken, could still be pulled. Ugh. Admirable, infuriating, he hates her. Grumpily, he licked the meaty juices off of his palm.

"Opted for the humiliating route instead of tightening leashes. I suppose that makes sense. Ugh."

Edited 2026-01-09 21:45 (UTC)

"A little humiliation now makes the victory later all the sweeter." He absently took a napkin and passed it over.

"She wants to plunk me on the princess' doorstep? Fine. It expedites things. Saves me so many cameras." Curious, he took a little bread and used it to soak some of the leftover juices from the roast. He didn't allow himself to think too much on what the meat came from as he simply popped the bread away down the hatch.

"Before I found the invitation, I thought you... left."

Alastor didn't answer at first, preoccupying himself with wiping his hand dry. Abducted, sure - but leaving, after all he'd opened up on and all he'd sacrificed?

...No, somehow, Vox was seeing something that Alastor simply wasn't. Little moments like this, the unpredictable reactions... he never knew what to make of them.

"...If I were dissatisfied, you'd be torn to pieces before I left," he finally clarified, dabbing at the corners of his mouth. His closed mouth smile broadened as he tossed the used cloth napkin on the table haphazardly before his hands folded neatly in his lap, protecting the slight belly visible even under a blue shirt that was decidedly baggy on him. "And probably eat you, too - why waste the protein when it could go to good use for them?"

Vox blinked at him. So he... liked... his accommodations? Because he was distinctly un-shredded and un-eaten.

He gave a huff of amusement, riding on that mote of relief that fluttered around in his stomach. It joined the butterflies in how his old pal looked in one of his shirts. He was assured that if he ever wore just one of the shirts, god forbid his jacket? There'd be nothing left of his mind.

"Sensible. Waste not, want not."

But a cable of his slipped loose, wrapped around one of Alastor's chair legs and dragged him closer. Maybe it was the thread of getting torn up and eaten. Maybe it was the mental image he had about the shirt or the jacket. Really, it could be both. Yet whatever it was, it was taking the earlier adrenaline and focusing it elsewhere.

"...But the fact of the matter is that you baited me. After all that I've done for you."

He drummed claws against one of the other demon's knees.

"Don't think I'm gonna let that fly once we get back..."

"Oh, Vox, I can't take credit this time - Rosie always preferred things subtle. But you? Oh, you are much too entertaining for me to not bait as loudly as possible. And you fall for it! Every time - because you're easy."

...He's being a little mean. But he can't help it - there's a mirth in his heart anyway, however cold and dead it is, and Al repaid that drumming of fingers with a little tug of those brand new sharp lapels.

...This is quite a nice new outfit. Velvette truly outdid herself.

"Once I'm back, I'm getting a long, soaking bath."

He never could resist the baiting. God, he could never resist the game... call him a fool for it, but who else even grabbed Vox's attention in a death grip like this man did?

His eyes trailed from hands upon the lapels and back up to his face. One set of his claws grasped the back of Alastor's chair as the ones on his knee paused and gave a little drag of the tips.

"...Not before I bite you for the disappearing act..."

As funny as it was to see Vox all riled up, Alastor felt a little twist of annoyance - he'd been ordered around and told where to stand, where to sit, what to do for the past while now. The tension only mounted and boiled over with Rosie pulling the leash.

Without warning, Alastor's hands moved and grasped firmly at the corners of Vox's monitor, seizing control of where that screen was pointed. Seizing control of the momentum.

"No, I don't think you will. But you were promised a reward. Even if now I'm going to punish you by keeping it secret until we're alone again."

Everything stopped. The buzz of static over their near perpetually-shared frequency quieted to a dull rush, and both of his hands remained exactly were they were, moving no further. Cyan pupils sharpened their focus.

"Ha... Figures," he huffed, but the minute trail away from his face to the world beyond reminded him of where they were.

Not here. Not now. Not after everything that's occurred.

Perfect - doing exactly what Alastor wanted. Needed. Pleased as punch, the crankiness vanished in a puff as Alastor giggled and squished his cheek against Vox's screen.

"Good boy! It'll be well worth it."

His screen immediately flushed a brighter blue, caught by the back of the knees by a good boy, and whatever plan he had was gone with a small splutter.

His face shrank a bit and scooted to a corner of the screen away from the squished cheek, if only to give a bit of drama by pouting and looking away.

"You're gonna static up your hair! But who knows? It might be an improvement."

"That was the favorite party trick, back in the day! Ahh... your glass doesn't nearly have the same buzz," Alastor laughed, pulling away and running his hand over the screen.

"...It is an interesting texture, though. Trade one thing for another, I suppose."

It was true that his upgrades did step away from the flaws of his old CRT and even his old boxy dealie from the 50s. As tech upgraded, they became a little more delicate in the wake of electric discharge, so he souped himself up to keep from accidentally frying his own consoles.

However, as Alastor ran a hand over the screen, the pout couldn't last long. There was an impish smirk as sparks danced across the surface in the touch's wake, just a small gift for him. No delicate electronics here... just far more refinement and being in control.

He reached up from the back of the radio demon's chair and hovered the hand nearest his bangs, then an ear. With a small shift, he created the imbalance of natural electric charge, and coaxed the red and black fur to lift and puff.

"Says you. I've still got it," he noted quietly, the picture of quiet amusement.

His hair buzzed, an ear flicked from a slight static-like shock, but Alastor could feel his hair lifting and knew from a few strands clinging to his cheeks that he was all puffed up again. It got a giggle from him - a little nostalgic, a little fun.

Like old times.

"Well, aren't you two cute?" Rosie snickered as she reentered the front of the emporium, holding a bassinet filled with all sorts of goodies. Alastor pouted at her, and Rosie promptly ignored it, bringing the basket and clearing part of the tea table, setting it down.

"Swaddling blankets, some good sturdy diapers, a thermometer, a little bundle of medicines and stuff for their first colds, some stretch cream for you Al - hold on right theeere..." Rosie held up a finger before going to one of her emporium counters, pulling a bottle of gin off of the shelf and magic-ing up a bundled package that smelled quite similar to the roast that Alastor had already eaten. "And there you go! Gin for the proud dad-to-be and some more protein. Now Vox - don't you go breaking hearts all over again! And Alastor, don't be difficult, you know men aren't good at reading into things!"

His attention turned to the flick of the ear and his eyes warmed. That's not something he sees often, even back in the day. But it's the giggle that sends him straight back a good sixty years. ...Enough that the way he joined in the laugh and shrugged a shoulder, wore a lopsided smile, he may as well have had that old CRT on his shoulders again.

Then it all shattered. Startled, Vox turned a brighter shade of blue and grabbed both sides of the seat of his chair, hopped a couple feet further away in one shift and hastily busied his hands with smoothing down his coat.

He focused on the bassinet and goodies instead. "...Ssshit, that's one hell of a care package..."

Wait, breaking hearts, what did she mean? What did Al--

Double wait- was he being called... called stupid-- what the fuck WAS today?? Can he get off this ride?

Rosie chuckled at Vox, giving him a pat on the head - hah, so funny to pat a modern monitor...!

"Lookin' forward to working with you, dear - look after my pet for me, will ya? He's ornery, but he's dedicated. Same will probably go for the little one - come talk to old Rosie if you need something, hmm?"

Alastor, after being mildly miffed at Vox jumping SO far back away from him, rolled his eyes and stood up to take the basket. Rosie didn't bother scolding him - if Vox was a good man, he'd start the fight and insist on carrying the goods.

"That's about it for today! Take care, be discreet going back home~"

He was too numbed to respond much to the pat, his antennae even giving a little bob. Charming! Too good for this moron.

"Uh-... yes, of course! And thank you... for the gifts." He cleared his throat, then stood. The movement would forcibly quench the smoldering coals in his gut over the word 'pet'.

He'll get that figured out. He's got plans. But right now, he just--

"Aha- Nonono-" He swooped in and cradled the basket in his arms. "No dice on the lifting, remember...?"

A cable reached out to get the door as he turned and tipped his hat.

Let's get the HELL out of here.

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