"Yeah, I'm sure you could. Y'know, one of these days I'm gonna get bitten by the bug of inspiration, get good at making ONE dish, and make your socks pop off with it."
"Hey, a guy's gotta keep his hands busy somehow," he answered casually. He set down the last of his burger to take a moment and clean up his claws. He turned his attention to his malt shake, the perfect accompaniment to the whole thing.
"Casserole," he scoffed. "No, I'm thinking bigger...! I'm a big seafood fan, and after looking into things, I think I want to take a shot at something from your neck of the woods. Jambalaya can't be that hard, can it?"
"Ambitious, but can you really dream of outdoing my own Maman's recipe? Setting your sights on impossible standards - nothing can outdo what Maman would make for me."
He chuckled in amusement - even if Vox made something delicious and perfect, there really wasn't going to be something better than nostalgia.
"Hmm... I could be curious to see your take on étouffée."
"C'mon, I'm ambitious but I'm not 'besting someone's mom' ambitious!"
But he quietly conjured a holographic panel and did a quick peek on what exactly it was that Al described. A number of recipes popped up, and he took all of three seconds to skim the list.
"Huh... heheh- You're on. I should try it sometime first, see what I'm working toward. Then I start my climb. Easy!"
"Give it a try! And I'll keep you on your toes... we'll have your Vees blind taste-test to see who makes the better étouffée."
Might as well ingratiate himself more with Vox's pals - especially if they were likely to be figures in his little one's life. He'll get a beat on their nuances and twist them into his preferences as his child's guardians.
Why the fuck do they say 'cajun spices' in the recipe without NOTING the FUCKING SPICES?? He'll look into that later.
He turned and smirked, and snagged up the last piece of his sandwich before popping it away.
"Wait'll they guess wrong and think the good one is yours instead of mine...! What would you think about a little wager, hm? A little something for the winner, incentive for the loser?"
"I'm going to be hidden away indoors for months, I'll take any form of entertainment to look forward to! Besides, seeing how you juggle between the Hotel, your businesses here AND the challenge will be hilarious. And we even have a perfect deadline - you have to perfect it before the baby is born!"
"Please- y-you know I like a challenge." Uhh. HMM. OH BOY.
"Alright: Loser answers the winner's beck and call for 24 hours." He sucked in a breath. Oop, shit-
"Sssssso long as it's not asking me to kill the other Vees or my sharks, ruin either of our careers, harm the baby, and..." He paused, scrunched his face a bit in thought. Did he cover everything catastrophic? Maybe...?
"Simplify it! Twenty four hours where the loser is at the whim of the winner in all ways that are not physically harmful~" he cooed smugly. Really, are you that behind on your Deal making? Or are you just fumbling because you're obsessed with him, old pal?
"I'll start pondering what I'd have you doing for a whole day that I couldn't already get from you, hmmm..."
He scoffed a bit and quirked a brow. "There is plenty you can't just get from me. I'm not some puppy, okay?"
He crossed one leg over the other, and was about to take the straw in his shake into his mouth, but paused.
"Anyway, can I pick a burger joint or can I pick a burger joint? That place has saved me on many a truly shitty work day. Their malt milkshakes are pretty good, too!"
He could be sporting. He offered the takeout cup. Have a sippy.
Alastor scoffed, though he still leaned in to take a little sip. Fine, fine... it's better than some awful corn syrup soda.
Still--
"You have the tastes of a teenage boy! Sweets, burgers and fries," he chuckled, finishing off his own burger in a final bite before he licked his fingers. "Smoothies, hot dogs, milkshakes, candy... how Velvette hasn't twisted your ear into better eating habits is beyond me!"
Honestly, Velvette refused to be her friend's mother - the concept didn't click with Alastor, who felt every need to dote nitpick Vox's behaviors and diet.
He rolled his eyes. "With all the work I was going while I was alive, traveling the coast and heading to whatever networks what needed a little boost, I didn't have a lot of time for a proper sit-down meal, so it was just my usual habit. You'd change your mind completely if you had a legitimate New York-style pizza, trust me. I ate at the very first pizzeria! Heard they're still open today, but sending a succubus to grab me a pie feels like a waste of resources."
He sipped. You better not have backwashed into this.
"But I generally eat alright, okay? Besides, you know as well as I do that the magic use burns calories!"
"I don't fuss with that fuddy-duddy calorie silliness! Even on my indulgent days I make sure to round out a meal with something like okra at least. The Wrath-grown variety has a funny crunchiness."
Alastor pointed at the veggies he'd manifested onto the plate.
"Don't you dare teach your children to hate vegetables."
He made a brief face. "I don't know how you put up with the slime."
But he flipped a hand. "C'moooon, I'm a fucking adult! Also, pretty dead! I can eat all the trash I want, but when you're growing up, you need all the help you can ge-"
"Children imitate their parents. And you don't want the headache of trying to explain to your six year old why their father doesn't eat his broccoli but she has to," Alastor rolled his eyes...
Though he paused, catching Vox staring at him. ? What are you staring at?
What Alastor said absolutely made sense, but that wasn't where Vox's mind was. Though he was noticed, he took just a bit too long to recover before he snapped his gaze away and focused on his milkshake.
He focused really hard on his milkshake, enough that there was a small blip over a speaker, a notification of temperature abnormalities blinking to life upon his monitor alongside a small groan of pain.
Ohgod... ohgod, he hadn't given himself brain freeze in DECADES-
Ah, a classic! Alastor laughed at the flickering screen, a giggle like old times. Amused at Vox's pain of course, but charmed by the silly mundane moment.
There was a little flutter in his heart, imagining the laughter of a little boy or girl at their father's careless mistakes. Or whatever ones he pretended to have, the absolute ham of a man that Vincent was...
... He was looking forward to it.
"You're ridiculous, you chatterbox, you know that?" Alastor asked, no venom whatsoever in his voice.
Somewhere amid the discomfort that was slowly ebbing away as his mouth warmed back up, one of his antennae twitched as it picked up the faintest little something.
It wasn't until Alastor's ears were on the move that Vox's eyes shifted from a passive curiosity to confusion.
"Hear-" Wait. Another one. Not a peep of music or even a rogue transmission of someone trying to pass a message on the sly. It was just a little noise.
His eyes narrowed briefly, and they cast about. "...A pirate station?..."
Why is he being calm about this? What if someone picks up HIS signal here??
That's absolutely right-- just noise. Just a little noise that stopped.
"Well that won't do, come now," Alastor beckoned, chuckling in amusement as he ran his thumb over the curve. He broadcast a signal, himself - something subtle, something small. A greeting.
He got a little peep of the noise in return. Echoing, trying to mimic the signal it received.
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sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2025-10-07 08:11 pm
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But even so, even as he takes another bite and savors it...
"I can make a better one."
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His appetite really has gotten a bit insatiable.
"I'm afraid one of your casseroles from that cooking show just won't do."
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"Casserole," he scoffed. "No, I'm thinking bigger...! I'm a big seafood fan, and after looking into things, I think I want to take a shot at something from your neck of the woods. Jambalaya can't be that hard, can it?"
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He chuckled in amusement - even if Vox made something delicious and perfect, there really wasn't going to be something better than nostalgia.
"Hmm... I could be curious to see your take on étouffée."
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But he quietly conjured a holographic panel and did a quick peek on what exactly it was that Al described. A number of recipes popped up, and he took all of three seconds to skim the list.
"Huh... heheh- You're on. I should try it sometime first, see what I'm working toward. Then I start my climb. Easy!"
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Might as well ingratiate himself more with Vox's pals - especially if they were likely to be figures in his little one's life. He'll get a beat on their nuances and twist them into his preferences as his child's guardians.
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He turned and smirked, and snagged up the last piece of his sandwich before popping it away.
"Wait'll they guess wrong and think the good one is yours instead of mine...! What would you think about a little wager, hm? A little something for the winner, incentive for the loser?"
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And what would he ask from you that he can't get just by batting his eyelashes, hmmmmm?
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Oh, fuck. He had to think of something good, then. A favor to cash in? Doing whatever the winner asks for 24 hours? The possibilities...
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"Alright: Loser answers the winner's beck and call for 24 hours." He sucked in a breath. Oop, shit-
"Sssssso long as it's not asking me to kill the other Vees or my sharks, ruin either of our careers, harm the baby, and..." He paused, scrunched his face a bit in thought. Did he cover everything catastrophic? Maybe...?
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"Simplify it! Twenty four hours where the loser is at the whim of the winner in all ways that are not physically harmful~" he cooed smugly. Really, are you that behind on your Deal making? Or are you just fumbling because you're obsessed with him, old pal?
"I'll start pondering what I'd have you doing for a whole day that I couldn't already get from you, hmmm..."
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He crossed one leg over the other, and was about to take the straw in his shake into his mouth, but paused.
"Anyway, can I pick a burger joint or can I pick a burger joint? That place has saved me on many a truly shitty work day. Their malt milkshakes are pretty good, too!"
He could be sporting. He offered the takeout cup. Have a sippy.
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Still--
"You have the tastes of a teenage boy! Sweets, burgers and fries," he chuckled, finishing off his own burger in a final bite before he licked his fingers. "Smoothies, hot dogs, milkshakes, candy... how Velvette hasn't twisted your ear into better eating habits is beyond me!"
Honestly, Velvette refused to be her friend's mother - the concept didn't click with Alastor, who felt every need to
dotenitpick Vox's behaviors and diet.no subject
He sipped. You better not have backwashed into this.
"But I generally eat alright, okay? Besides, you know as well as I do that the magic use burns calories!"
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Alastor pointed at the veggies he'd manifested onto the plate.
"Don't you dare teach your children to hate vegetables."
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But he flipped a hand. "C'moooon, I'm a fucking adult! Also, pretty dead! I can eat all the trash I want, but when you're growing up, you need all the help you can ge-"
He paused, stared.
"...'Children'?"
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Though he paused, catching Vox staring at him. ? What are you staring at?
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He focused really hard on his milkshake, enough that there was a small blip over a speaker, a notification of temperature abnormalities blinking to life upon his monitor alongside a small groan of pain.
Ohgod... ohgod, he hadn't given himself brain freeze in DECADES-
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There was a little flutter in his heart, imagining the laughter of a little boy or girl at their father's careless mistakes. Or whatever ones he pretended to have, the absolute ham of a man that Vincent was...
... He was looking forward to it.
"You're ridiculous, you chatterbox, you know that?" Alastor asked, no venom whatsoever in his voice.
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"Tickled pink that my suffering brings you joy," he sighed, hand to chest.
"Maybe I'll walk on a rake for good measure."
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Caught in his little giggle fit imagining his pal in a truly slapstick struggle, Alastor almost missed the slight, subtle signal on the airwaves.
But it happened again, making his ears twitch and stand alert - a strange, new, fuzzy broadcast. No words, no thoughts, just... buzz.
Realization struck him like a zap of electricity, and he cupped his hand around his middle - no kicks, but...?
"Do you hear that?"
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It wasn't until Alastor's ears were on the move that Vox's eyes shifted from a passive curiosity to confusion.
"Hear-" Wait. Another one. Not a peep of music or even a rogue transmission of someone trying to pass a message on the sly. It was just a little noise.
His eyes narrowed briefly, and they cast about. "...A pirate station?..."
Why is he being calm about this? What if someone picks up HIS signal here??
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"Well that won't do, come now," Alastor beckoned, chuckling in amusement as he ran his thumb over the curve. He broadcast a signal, himself - something subtle, something small. A greeting.
He got a little peep of the noise in return. Echoing, trying to mimic the signal it received.
"Vox. They're broadcasting - she's broadcasting."
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