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

Vox was surprised with the weight of it already- this was what he was dealing with, so far?? What the fuck?- but it put a few more things into perspective. There was a laugh and a small tremor, and he was prepared for the ram of the back of his head into his screen. Perhaps it would be a mercy that he didn't have prongs to contend with...

But when Alastor leaned instead, Vox momentarily stiffened in surprise. His fate was sealed. He felt something in his heart melt. The laugh spluttered out of him. "Ohmygod- that works?? It's- it seriously helps??"

He'd needed perhaps one hand now, but who knows how long it'd be before he needed both?

"O- okay, sure...! Just... tell me you 'need a lift', or something...!"

Gaining so much weight to go from rail thin to actually healthy, the weight of the little one, of everything his body was doing to protect them... Alastor knew it'd only get worse as the baby themselves got bigger.

"Look at you, already eager to hold your daughter in your arms."

He had no reason to assume the sex of the baby, just a Feeling.

"Wh-" He turned a bright cyan.

"You're screwing with me, right? There's no way you know yet!" But he paused as the gears were turning.

"Weee... didn't talk about if we wanted to know via ultrasound or be surprised yet, have we...?"

"I don't mind either way," Alastor shrugged, contentedly resting his hands over Vox's. "But I have a hunch!"

Or he just liked the idea of a girl more - he did have that predisposition to favor them.

"Perhaps it's a son. But I imagine it's a daughter."

"A hunch, huh...?" He chuckled. A warmth crept up the back of his neck, sent a spark between his diodes with the touch against his hands diligently cradling.

His arm was already getting a little sore.

He didn't care. In fact, his freer hand would make a small, subtle stroke over that bump.

"Yeah... I'm alright either way, too. Kinda wonder if there's a chance they'll look anything like I did when I was alive... I practically had to beat fans away with a stick back in my prime."

"I always pictured you as that standard white man. Light brown hair, moderately tall. Heheheh," Alastor admitted with a chuckle. "...They aren't being punished with their form the way we are. I wonder how it'll affect their appearance. If anything, I hope they have Maman's curls."

"I hope they do, too! You've mentioned these legendary curls before and you've got me curious," he chuckled.

"And I was far from standard. This head of mine was meant to protect the rest of you from my true form. If you saw it, you'd get nothing done... ever." He sagely nodded.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure you were simply swarmed with salacious attention!" Alastor rolled his eyes, drumming his fingers over the back of Vox's hand where it held him. "I like the novelty of the television head, for all its foibles. Can you imagine what sort of jokes I could make if my head were quite literally a cathedral radio? Phenomenal!"

He burst out laughing. "Wait wait wait-- I've actually got something for this!"

Vox raised a hand- don't worry, he won't let you go just yet- and gestured open a hologram screen. He swept to scroll through a few things, all terrible scribblings of this and that to occupy his mind during boring meetings, until he stopped on an image.

Oh, that immediately got a massive laugh from Alastor - he started guffawing, having to lean back just to not double over.

"HAHahah! Oh, imagine! From a face made for radio to a face made INTO radio! Hahahahaha!"

He beamed. "You joked about it before, way back when. I've got tons of doodles like these from all the bullshit stockholder conference calls...!"

He received a ping, dancing between his antennae. After a brief thought, he passed it along to the other Vees. Had a dinner ETA.

"...We're ten minutes out from grub, by the way. You feel up for it...?"

"Even after tea from Rosie, I am famished. And I've got to see whether your regular fare is acceptable or not!"

Heheheh. Scrutinizing will always be a little funny.

"Ten is plenty to slip a little dance in, too~"

"Burgers are perfectly acceptable! Nobody sees my vision, I swear-"

He perked.

"Oh yeah...? You up for it?" He wiggled his eyebrows. They could take it easy.

"It's meant to be a relaxing evening," Alastor hummed, settling his weight on his feet and turning around. It felt a bit silly, only dressed in a bathrobe, but Vox had seen far more than this already.

...And he didn't mind, since the sight of him seemed to send his old pal into a twitterpated state.

"Aside from having to skulk in the middle of the night through Pentagram City, Rosie had me absolutely at her mercy - nothing but gossip and relentless measurements and lectures. Oh, the lectures, just like Velvette did for you. I was a bit miffed she could tell immediately that you had fathered them - I'd hoped I could be at least a bit more mysterious and suspect."

Twitterpated is putting it lightly. After he gently eased back down and politely folded his arms behind his back, his eyes weren't remotely on Alastor's face. Look, you're wearing one of his robes, okay??

He frowned a bit, however, brows furrowed in thought. "Wait, seriously? How the fuck could she tell it's mine?? It could've been anybody...!"

"Precisely! Who knows how many suitable candidates I might have entrusted for one of my worst heats. Or what sort of plans I might have wrought - who knows what I could plan if I were to carry a child of the king's, after all," Alastor chuckled, putting his hands on the small of his back to lightly stretch his spine.

"Or perhaps I'd simply taken what I could get access to, then killed and ate my suitor the way a praying mantis will do to nourish her young~"

With a slight pop of noise from the speakers in the room, a light tango started to play - Alastor tugged at Vox's tucked away arms. Come on, pal, we're going to dance!

"Niffty always could come up with a tome's worth of wild, inane theories after all. Rosie guessing right on the first pass was just dull."

His arms loosened without a fight. His hands almost automatically shifted into the right position, and he fell into step as he grinned.

"Very dull! But ah... hah... you're... that's- there weren't others before that tried to take a shot in the past, were there?"

"There were no successful attempts," Alastor shrugged, the shadowy tendrils emerging from his back just to give the furniture around them a shove, making their dancing space a bit more open as he stepped in rhythm to the music. "The few that found out, Rosie aside... hah. Well, they're simply more voices on the broadcast!"

He hummed a bit as they settled into a pattern, discovering their pace and comfort in time with the song.

"Oh, men of all sorts have tried to have their shot at me. Phony charisma, shows of bravado, manipulations and traps, even trying to slip things into my drink! I caught each and every one of them. Men really are so vulgar."

"That's us, Al, nasty as Hell..." They circled, and the smile masked the small twitch at the corner of his mouth at the idea of roofies.

"But I can't help but feel disappointed! I didn't get the chance to do the mate thing and tie off some loose ends myself..." His voice had grown huskier with the thought and he drew the other man closer.

"...Though, I suppose if you just rattled off a few names of those who maybe tried to go sniff around before you chose me... I could always go and make sure."

Though Alastor turned his head away like Vox was being too much, a delighted little thrill shivered up his spine. Yes, he quite liked the idea of Vox getting that way over him.

"Anything to stake your claim, hmm? That's a little insecure, don't you think~?"

But Alastor loved that Vox was insecure. It made him easy and predictable, as simple to read and anticipate as the next step of a dance.

"You already left the most certain mark there is, Vox. It's growing in my belly at this very moment."

"Aww, don't be like that- it keeps the kid safe, too...!" Hook, line, sinker. He didn't like the idea of others- even ones that no longer lived- having tried. None of them were good enough. They should have known their fucking place.

But oh, the way he said that... it had a way of making his heart rush.

"A fact that makes my soul sing, make no mistake... but what of sport, Al? A message? What if I wanted to hunt? Bring you the heart of some hapless fuck who so much as entertained thoughts of getting you alone...?"

"Eager to provide, I see," Alastor chuckled. And nearly followed up with another comment-- why not give me your heart first, then-- and stopped himself before saying it.

Even he knew how easily that could be misconstrued.

"I've given you scavenger hunts and you've performed admirably, I'll admit. Should I crave a little blood, perhaps I'll recall a name or face - I hardly keep many to memory."

"Ouch. The poor bastards really didn't leave much of an impact, huh?" A gentle twirl.

"But y'knooow... I was thinking~" He chuckled darkly.

"I've got my power, and we've got our playground out there. We play our cards right, funnel in some mark and we can go hunting... together?"

Oh, how Alastor somewhat loathed the way his ears perked up with obvious interest. Hunting... he loathed having to hide himself away and read through his boredom for months. The seven year sabbatical was already MISERABLE... having to be even more extreme for safety was starting to grate.

It sounded lovely. Even with the idea of having to tolerate someone shadowing his movements, being a clumsy oaf, a worse hunter. Honestly, if Vox alerted the prey, then they could play longer.

With a low chuckle, Alastor stepped closer, chest-to-chest and his middle pressing against Vox's so that he could practically purr, "Que la chasse commence!"

That's the big question: How is Vox as a hunter...?

But as Alastor drew in close, Vox's back went rigid and he almost audibly gulped. His mouth dried as a spark danced between his diodes absolutely not shaped in a blink into a heart.

"...Then it's a plan! I'll see about scoping out some targets. Got a fresh new bunch of overlords sniffing around these last few weeks, too..."

But he took a breath to steady: "Also, how the fuck have you not weaponized the hell out of that? French is a seriously romantic language!"

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