"Naturally." You'll never guess what shape they depicted as he brought them over, and with a nod, he quietly excused himself. Burger, back-up potato just in case the kid wanted to make the stomach protest.
"Take your time...!"
Once in the rec room area, he cued up a conference call for Valentino and Velvette and threw out a pair of holographic screens for face-timing. For once, he wasn't going to talk about work! You're welcome.
"Lady! Gentleman! Dinner plans. What're we doing so I can start putting in an order...? Our guest is still on for the burger, so I'm more than set."
Valentino answered first, Velvette's connection left ringing. He seemed to be chatting in the middle of a shoot being set up - Travis was in the background barking orders.
"Ohh, dinner plans! I kinda want barbecue, babe, like, a rib sandwich and corn 'n shit," Valentino cooed into the phone, before turning and holding it a little closer to his face. "Are you and el invitado having fun~? Did you help him relax, CariƱo? Is he bratty like you thought~?"
Barbecue... got it. Wait, were rib sandwiches back? Shit, his lunch plan for tomorrow was set, too. All the stress and running around was leaving him more carnivorous than usual. ...Or maybe it was an empathy craving? Were those a thing?
Vox cued up the order list, adding Valentino's preferences, but he briefly went owl-eyed.
His mind helpfully depicted his bath robe, baggier on the slighter frame, all but dripping off the body of the red brat, the last remnants of the bath water struggling to hang on to the ends of his hair--
Vox sucked in a breath and cleared his throat. Get it together. "Ha- Well... working on it. And since when has bratty ever stopped me? I know a few of those..."
"Mmhmm, I know how much you like showing who's the big daddy," Val salaciously laughed, wiggling his eyebrows. "He's been getting really cutely domesticated with you, huh? You've got a little attic wife thing going on~"
He chuckled and straightened up his collar. Perhaps later, Vox would realize he was the one being somewhat domesticated, but right now he had to sail on that pride of having a whole and intact Radio Demon just a stone's throw away. And in his room, no less. There was a delicious taboo to it, and if he'd told himself seventy years ago he'd be like this, he'd get a kick out of watching the CRT explode into a thousand pieces and confetti.
"What I wouldn't give to take the attic out of the equation, Val, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there~"
He paused.
Had a think.
COUGHED. OH god, what's he saying!? The vapor rose from the back of his monitor. "RIGHT, so- ribs, uhh- corn, cornbread, drinks???"
"I want an agua fresca. Can we like, split a milkshake? The diner ones are soooooo heavy. Ooooor, maybe I can give you some fun shivers by licking it off your--"
His stomach flipped hard with the interjection, but he cleared his throat. God, he was so good at keeping his shit together. He deserves an award!
"Anywhere's fine, seeing as we're going from burgers to barbecue so far. Ethan can hoof it." He knew Valentino- it's what he wants, or he won't eat, and he'd rather everybody eats tonight.
"Today's been stressful as all get out- you dead set about 'light', sweetheart?"
"Yeah, I don't need to down something with more grease than what Val slathers on stage," she rolled her eyes, getting an amused laugh from the moth. "Something like a burrito bowl. Saved my carbs for the evening. Your Prince of the Forest still being a cranky asshole?"
"He's just hormonal, doll, right?"
"Pfft. Shut up, Val. Vox-- if you need a break from him, I'll deer-sit. I still want to fix that fucking tragedy of a haircut."
He snickered. Bu-rri-to boooowl... added to the list. And whatever an aggy-fresh-coat is. Milkshake. He'll just put up an extra hologram window and look up what the fuck an agua-thingy is.
...Oh. So it's like... fruit punch without ginger ale? Okay. Easy.
"HA! He's had that hair style for 70 years! You wanna take a shot at it, I wish you luck. But I suppose even the Radio Demon needs a spa day, huh? Especially when you've got something nearing a small cantaloupe strapped to the belly and giving you back cramps..."
He hadn't thought of that, and was momentarily VERY distracted. Did he really not peek at Al's ass enough-?
"Right. Overlords meeting one another isn't exactly out of the ordinary to boot, even if people don't exactly visit Rosie on her turf much without it possibly costing them an arm and a leg."
Eyebrow wiggle. Anyone? Anyone? Right-
"But for further discretion, I wouldn't be too concerned. I've got it handled. On the topic of handling, we should talk shop about the Hazbin project sooner, rather than later, in person, too."
"UGH, I can't beLIEVE you have to go work for that mannish Princessa. And ANGEL-- I bet he's fucking everyone in that shithole without even getting any money for it--"
"Oh my god, shut up, Val. If you really don't want him there, then just keep him in your fucking studio next time he comes in," Velvette oh so helpfully contributed.
"But then he gets on my nerves!!"
"I really do not give a fuck about your shit with Angel, Val. Vee, what all are you doing exactly? We don't have to make this a whole thing, right? We have plenty of shit to keep running in the meantime."
"Okay, but you will record and give us the highlight reels of all the cringiest, shittiest moments, right?" Velvette snickered.
"Wait, huh, a year? Isn't el invitado further along than that?"
"PSH! What, you're gonna throw the man out the second he shits the kid out, Val? And maybe he'll even stick around longer and be helpful with it instead of a complete bitch about it."
"Please, this camera is always rolling," he chuckled with a grin.
It faltered, however, with a misunderstanding. It was Charlie's meager experience running a business compared to his own, but-- "Nobody's kicking him out! I need him to stay."
...
"I'd like for him to stay. And I don't think he'd be a bitch about the kid."
"Ah, fair point. He'll still have to take his time regenerating, but if the Deal is just because he can't be seen like that then a switch-back should be easy. That is, if Vox wants to play stay-at-home-dad."
"Or we can take turns, Kitty'd be real good at the cleaning parts. Then the rest is making sure they're not crying! They're gonna be like... our step-kid, too, right?"
"Fair points. We can hash those details out further later after winding down from... all of this."
He needed to think: A proposal for the princess and finding the means to swerve her stupid deadbeat dad, making that solid first impression, and then the real scheming could begin. Having the Morningstars truly in his pocket could be a benefit... then, with increased attention and viewership numbers, he could build his power.
...Enough to challenge Rosie herself for Alastor's soul.
And if, should he be free, he decides to simply disappear...?
The doubt set a little ice in his belly.
He needed to think about that possibility, too. He'd been told he chose him, but they just had to see how that held up in the coming weeks. One wrong move with any deer, and they scatter off into the woods.
Just like 70 years ago.
"I wouldn't dream of pushing any of those responsibilities on either of you- you didn't cause this." He needed to handle this. He HAD to prove he didn't need help.
"BUT, if maybe you had a little free time and decided you wanted to spend some of it with an anklebiter that's got my charm, then, weeeell..."
"Only 'cause it'll be your baby, CariƱo. They'll be a Vee, right~? Vees looking out for Vees~"
"This whole thing is making you weird, Val. But-- he's not wrong. If I catch anyone fuckin' with the kid, I'm going to boil them until their flesh melts off the bone. Now shoo, both of you-- if I'm starting to get hungry, I bet the one carrying is going to get downright hangry."
"Okaaay~. I'm in the studio for the rest of the night anyway."
Val's got some stuff to unpack, but Vox supports him, really. But as they talked, he needed to suppress a snicker as he looked between the two screens. He really did love--
Vox startled.
"Right! Putting in the order. I'll send an ETA when it comes along. If I'm missing a limb or two later, we can say Velvette was right." He sent that along, and ended the call.
He took a breath, hand to chest. Then he turned to go and see to a hoofied one.
Said deer was out of the bathroom and standing by the tank to watch the water and creatures within - no slippers, but certainly the bathrobe still over him. Gradually, meticulously and carefully he was using a white comb (was that made of bone...?) to detangle his hair, ruffling and brushing at it again. If he didn't, it'd definitely end up matting. What a headache.
One of the fuzzy ears turned around towards Vox, hearing him approach. "I can see the appeal of having this much blue in one room."
Aw. Slippers ain't doin' it for ya? Fine. Not everyone respects his vision. But he strode in quietly, the smile quick to grow.
"It helps that it's my favorite color. But it loans to an 'inner sanctum' sort of... vibe. I think you've been the first guest I've had in here," he noted in wonder.
"Also, just giving you advance notice: Velvette wants to do something with your hair. But, I can attest to her being a miracle worker, so take that as you will."
"She can wait," Alastor huffed a chuckle through his nose, turning to look at Vox as he kept at his hair. "After I feed you all tomorrow I'll take full advantage of having my own space. It's been a noisy, busy few days."
After a hum and finally tucking the comb in the breast pocket of the robe, Alastor roamed a bit more. He'd spotted that wall containing the old TVs... and he wanted to see them again before he sat down to eat.
With a chuckle, he pointed at the plasma screen - "I remember that one. That display was especially gaudy... terrible refresh rate when being filmed."
Vox curiously peered, then made a face. "...Huge power hogs, too. Good riddance. Found myself out of juice a lot for those years. S'why I turned down more of our fights during that particular era. I think my switch out to what I have now was just before you had that seven-year hiatus."
His gaze trailed, lingered on the CRT.
"...Might have hit the ceiling, though. I can't think of any way the technology can be improved from now."
"The attempts at 3D were truly nauseating," Alastor concurred. And chuckled, a bit. "And the home viewer ones are just in a race to get thinner and thinner - as if you needed your head to be even more easy to fold and shatter, ahaha!"
He loathed the way television in hell soaked up attention, the invasiveness of it, the constant push to buy, buy, buy-- but that didn't mean he didn't pay attention to what his rival was up to.
"No, I think this current model works as well as it could. About as heavy as a human head," Alastor chuckled, pinching the corner and giving it a wiggle. "Laying on your side must be vexing."
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"Take your time...!"
Once in the rec room area, he cued up a conference call for Valentino and Velvette and threw out a pair of holographic screens for face-timing. For once, he wasn't going to talk about work! You're welcome.
"Lady! Gentleman! Dinner plans. What're we doing so I can start putting in an order...? Our guest is still on for the burger, so I'm more than set."
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"Ohh, dinner plans! I kinda want barbecue, babe, like, a rib sandwich and corn 'n shit," Valentino cooed into the phone, before turning and holding it a little closer to his face. "Are you and el invitado having fun~? Did you help him relax, CariƱo? Is he bratty like you thought~?"
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Vox cued up the order list, adding Valentino's preferences, but he briefly went owl-eyed.
His mind helpfully depicted his bath robe, baggier on the slighter frame, all but dripping off the body of the red brat, the last remnants of the bath water struggling to hang on to the ends of his hair--
Vox sucked in a breath and cleared his throat. Get it together. "Ha- Well... working on it. And since when has bratty ever stopped me? I know a few of those..."
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"What I wouldn't give to take the attic out of the equation, Val, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there~"
He paused.
Had a think.
COUGHED. OH god, what's he saying!? The vapor rose from the back of his monitor. "RIGHT, so- ribs, uhh- corn, cornbread, drinks???"
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"Heyyyy baybyyyyy~ We're ordering dinner, whatchu want, doll~?"
"Something light-- where are you ordering from?"
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"Anywhere's fine, seeing as we're going from burgers to barbecue so far. Ethan can hoof it." He knew Valentino- it's what he wants, or he won't eat, and he'd rather everybody eats tonight.
"Today's been stressful as all get out- you dead set about 'light', sweetheart?"
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"He's just hormonal, doll, right?"
"Pfft. Shut up, Val. Vox-- if you need a break from him, I'll deer-sit. I still want to fix that fucking tragedy of a haircut."
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...Oh. So it's like... fruit punch without ginger ale? Okay. Easy.
"HA! He's had that hair style for 70 years! You wanna take a shot at it, I wish you luck. But I suppose even the Radio Demon needs a spa day, huh? Especially when you've got something nearing a small cantaloupe strapped to the belly and giving you back cramps..."
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"Stoppit-- anyway. Show's about done, I'm getting the prep done for that tonight. No one's talkin' goss about our trip today."
"We were SUUUUPER discreet, it's fiiiine."
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"Right. Overlords meeting one another isn't exactly out of the ordinary to boot, even if people don't exactly visit Rosie on her turf much without it possibly costing them an arm and a leg."
Eyebrow wiggle. Anyone? Anyone? Right-
"But for further discretion, I wouldn't be too concerned. I've got it handled. On the topic of handling, we should talk shop about the Hazbin project sooner, rather than later, in person, too."
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"Oh my god, shut up, Val. If you really don't want him there, then just keep him in your fucking studio next time he comes in," Velvette oh so helpfully contributed.
"But then he gets on my nerves!!"
"I really do not give a fuck about your shit with Angel, Val. Vee, what all are you doing exactly? We don't have to make this a whole thing, right? We have plenty of shit to keep running in the meantime."
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He took a moment to brace a hand against one rim of his monitor and twisted his back and shoulder for a good, loud pop-
"What's one more challenge, huh?? Fifty-plus years of business experience versus... what, ten months of singing and crying on her end? A year?"
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"Wait, huh, a year? Isn't el invitado further along than that?"
"PSH! What, you're gonna throw the man out the second he shits the kid out, Val? And maybe he'll even stick around longer and be helpful with it instead of a complete bitch about it."
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It faltered, however, with a misunderstanding. It was Charlie's meager experience running a business compared to his own, but-- "Nobody's kicking him out! I need him to stay."
...
"I'd like for him to stay. And I don't think he'd be a bitch about the kid."
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"Ah, fair point. He'll still have to take his time regenerating, but if the Deal is just because he can't be seen like that then a switch-back should be easy. That is, if Vox wants to play stay-at-home-dad."
"Or we can take turns, Kitty'd be real good at the cleaning parts. Then the rest is making sure they're not crying! They're gonna be like... our step-kid, too, right?"
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He needed to think: A proposal for the princess and finding the means to swerve her stupid deadbeat dad, making that solid first impression, and then the real scheming could begin. Having the Morningstars truly in his pocket could be a benefit... then, with increased attention and viewership numbers, he could build his power.
...Enough to challenge Rosie herself for Alastor's soul.
And if, should he be free, he decides to simply disappear...?
The doubt set a little ice in his belly.
He needed to think about that possibility, too. He'd been told he chose him, but they just had to see how that held up in the coming weeks. One wrong move with any deer, and they scatter off into the woods.
Just like 70 years ago.
"I wouldn't dream of pushing any of those responsibilities on either of you- you didn't cause this." He needed to handle this. He HAD to prove he didn't need help.
"BUT, if maybe you had a little free time and decided you wanted to spend some of it with an anklebiter that's got my charm, then, weeeell..."
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"This whole thing is making you weird, Val. But-- he's not wrong. If I catch anyone fuckin' with the kid, I'm going to boil them until their flesh melts off the bone. Now shoo, both of you-- if I'm starting to get hungry, I bet the one carrying is going to get downright hangry."
"Okaaay~. I'm in the studio for the rest of the night anyway."
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Vox startled.
"Right! Putting in the order. I'll send an ETA when it comes along. If I'm missing a limb or two later, we can say Velvette was right." He sent that along, and ended the call.
He took a breath, hand to chest. Then he turned to go and see to a hoofied one.
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One of the fuzzy ears turned around towards Vox, hearing him approach. "I can see the appeal of having this much blue in one room."
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"It helps that it's my favorite color. But it loans to an 'inner sanctum' sort of... vibe. I think you've been the first guest I've had in here," he noted in wonder.
"Also, just giving you advance notice: Velvette wants to do something with your hair. But, I can attest to her being a miracle worker, so take that as you will."
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After a hum and finally tucking the comb in the breast pocket of the robe, Alastor roamed a bit more. He'd spotted that wall containing the old TVs... and he wanted to see them again before he sat down to eat.
With a chuckle, he pointed at the plasma screen - "I remember that one. That display was especially gaudy... terrible refresh rate when being filmed."
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His gaze trailed, lingered on the CRT.
"...Might have hit the ceiling, though. I can't think of any way the technology can be improved from now."
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He loathed the way television in hell soaked up attention, the invasiveness of it, the constant push to buy, buy, buy-- but that didn't mean he didn't pay attention to what his rival was up to.
"No, I think this current model works as well as it could. About as heavy as a human head," Alastor chuckled, pinching the corner and giving it a wiggle. "Laying on your side must be vexing."
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