If you asked any at the VNN station, they'd praise Charlie for her ability to render Vincent mercifully silent. He'd never been carried before, and needed a good- uh- minute to process. Unsure of where to put his hands, he instead laced his own fingers together and kept them tight against his stomach.
His eye trailed along her neck, so close to it now that he couldn't help but notice. The jawline. That... wasn't a make-up thing, was it? The white skin, the cheek spots...? Where were the horns? The wings? Tail...?
And the nose!! She didn't go far - there was a wash room just down the hall, and just as Charlie went to elbow the door open, Dazzle quickly opened the door for her so they could go inside. "Thaaank you!"
It was clean, tidy... and rather ornate. No real surprise, there - it fit right into the look of the manor, as did the chaise lounge she carefully started to lower him onto. Never mind that he would get it bloody - Charlie didn't worry about that one bit.
"Okay, yeah, you just relax and sit tight - Dazzle, can you go get the first aid stuff? And Razzle, can you please go get some drinking water for us? Thanks! Let's see... let's get the hot water running, that'll be a little nicer than a cold cloth, right?"
Good thing there's all these fluffy towels! It's enough to make you forget where you are, for a minute. "Oh-- I promise I won't make you owe me anything or say you have to stay here or whatever. Uh, I know sometimes people like to take advantage or whatever, but I think that's kinda mean, so I don't really do it, and you're all my people so I should take care of you anyways!" Charlie started prattling as she ran the sink, soaking a hand towel with warm water.
He settled on the lounge and wobbled a bit, heart racing and dizzy. He'd- he'd get it messy, and probably need to pay for it. But does Hell do money...? They had casinos, he'd seen. What do they trade? ...Oh god, souls??
Hell no. He's never selling his fucking soul. That's his first hard rule here. He'll get someone ELSE'S--
He sat up straighter, clutching the cushions beneath him to keep himself still as it was almost like she'd read his mind. But off she went for things, and he watched her go.
Vee leaned, owlishly blinking. What a weird woman. Kind, pretty. ...Really weird. Not Hell-like.
Then something caught his peripheral, and he lifted his gaze to a massive portrait above the mantle: The woman he just met but decidedly younger, a rather short and goofy-looking guy in a top hat and white suit, and what had to be the most heart-achingly gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.
Well, there's your answer. The Devil looks like an idiot. ...Lucifer, right? THAT'S the guy that defied God and got grounded for it? Then that must be... Lilith.
They were really, really real - and their daughter was currently babbling, rattling off about trying to remember what she learned about tending wounds or how sometimes Sinners have a pretty unlucky first day, or--
"Oh! Right. Let's see... this suit is pretty much, uh. Gone? But we can get you some more clothes, so don't feel too bad, okay?"
She carefully crouched and started to gently dab at the blood at the base of Vee's neck. His head looked... reaally heavy and uncomfortable, and probably hurt a lot. Actually, maybe leaving the warm cloth on his neck for a little would help.
It was a little strange, maybe, for blood to linger on his neck and see no discernible injury for it. Oh, but the suit was basically toast. Guess he needed to stick to button-ups, as nothing was going to be able to be pulled up and over his head. Shame... but he liked dressing up anyway. He'll just miss sweatshirts and t-shirts, the casualness of them.
The warm cloth felt... nice. He raised a claw and looked it over, navy skin and curved metallic tips. Bigger, too. Strange... he even clenched and unclenched it a little.
He slowly raised his head to regard her, even if his eye creased a bit in pain from the movement. It disappeared to make more space on the screen:
Thank you, Your Highness I insist on repaying. <:)
"No, it's okay. Don't worry about that, just focus on healing first. There's a little bit of good news - healing up is a lot faster for you than for living things! Because you're an immortal soul, now. I've seen demons with technology for their heads or backs or arms and stuff - even that stuff will pull itself together and fix, too. You'll feel much better soon," she explained.
Hmm... the suit was definitely toast, and it was pretty torn and bloody all over... without thinking much of it, Charlie started unbuttoning it, so she could get a better look.
Pull himself together and mend... he guessed it wouldn't be much of a punishment in Hell if Sinners could just kill each other and be done with their damnation. To heal up and face what else you 'deserved' just made sense.
It was strange, but the pain of earlier was even now a bit lessened. He'd been beaten up like this in his childhood, and even then, he was down for the count for days from countless bruises, a bloodied nose and more. He wondered what he'd be like tomorr--
Vee sat up straighter in surprise, heart in his throat as snow flashed in what little of his screen wasn't covered by bandages. He gripped the cushion beneath him tighter. There was more navy skin beneath, and among the bruises were almost rib-like lines on his torso. ...Gills?
But he seemed to be radiating a distinct warmth now, very small fans kicking off somewhere in his torso to try and cool himself down. His eye reappeared, trying to avert and look anywhere but at her.
"--Great--" "--First--" "--Day--"
Jokes. He's got 'em. Makes things less embarrassing.
"Good, I'm glad! Definitely gonna try and make it a better one!" Charlie laughed, unabashed about undressing a man.
After all, it wasn't like they were those people who fuck in the middle of the street. Not to even mention Lust...!
After taking a minute to carefully examine the body, realizing the gills were gills and not cuts, finding some harsh bruising... looks like a few nasty kicks or hits, but no stabbing or kidney theft...!
"And you'll figure out how to do all the stuff normally in no time flat. Hell is a punishment, but... maybe it can also be home, in a way. That's what I believe, anyway."
Yeah. She's definitely strange. Hopeful! Like people could just enjoy their afterlife here or something. But there seemed to be amenities everywhere, like any other city. He wondered if there were any good drive-ins, maybe a soda jerk somewhere...
But he released his claws, only to reach up and idly touch where he mouth would be. He seemed to emit sound from a speaker somewhere like a television, but... did that mean he didn't need to eat?
Beneath the bruises, his stomach twisted mildly inward, gnawing. Peckish. He felt hunger, then. But... no mouth...? So how does he-
"Huh...? Oh! Yeah, no, pshh-- mom trusts me!" Charlie laughed a bit, giving Vee's shoulder a little joking pat, "And dad's kinda... well, ehh... it's whatever, he hasn't really done anything besides lecture me when I bring someone in to patch them up. Mom does this sort of thing now and then too-- she's always working to make sure we're in this together."
The imp from before returned, a shirt folded up and held in his hands. "Once the wounds are no longer bleeding, princess," he informed, leaving it folded and sat on the counter.
"Thanks! But, yeah... I... I want to be like my mom. The Sinners and the Hellborn... they're all our people. And people deserve a chance to try again."
"I don't think aaanyone has seen the gates? They talk about it a lot. But-- you're right. I can't find a way for you to go back to Earth. But... you're here, now. And Hell can become a better place for all of us, if we work together. And... maybe there is a way to redeem."
It's something that floated around the manors before. Her father resigned and saying it was pointless to bother protecting the Sinners, that they'll never get better. But that didn't seem fair, didn't seem right. Her mom was working so, so hard to try and get Sinners rallied together, even with the consistent resource problems and the struggles for space.
Charlie wanted to be like Lilith. She had to try.
"It's hard to be a good person in hell, I think. But I don't think that means it's impossible. We just... have to figure it out."
So the daughter of the Devil himself wants Sinners to possibly redeem, something Lilith... maybe?... wants to do? But daddy doesn't wanna play ball. Talk about a dysfunctional family.
My only goal right now is to not be placed in a landfill, honestly.
"Aww, you'll figure it out! Televisions have audio and stuff-- honestly, the fact that yours has color is pretty neat! I'm sure you can guess, but stuff trickles down here to hell a liiittle slower than it gets invented on Earth," she laughed a little, tilting her head as she started to wrap up more of the scratched up, torn up areas of his arms.
"Maybe there's speakers or something that're broken from the fall or from, uh, people jumping you. But that means it'll fix itself!"
Slower, huh...? Color TV was still only among the most expensive sets in the wealthiest homes, but if he could somehow do something about this here... oh, the possibilities...!
I'd started work with color TVs not long before I died. Maybe that's why mine is?
He clenched a fist.
Maybe I could find a way to get color broadcasting down here!
Yes. ...Yes, he could just begin a new revolution here, starting with getting this place caught up. Why should his afterlife be in black and white when it can pop into full color instead!? Why not make it a clean slate, rather than a punishment?
He just needed to figure out how to get his neck toughened up, support the weight of his head. Sleeping was going to be difficult... but... no, he's overcome challenges before. He was the God of Entertainment!
"Oh, yeah, that seems nice!! You could do a lot of really great creative things! And you could do a lot of good with stuff like that, too. I think that's a great idea!"
The concept that 'Vee' was possibly not the kind of person who cared about doing good or was otherwise harmless... didn't seem to really register, to the princess. Like, technically it seemed possible? But she was getting easily carried away with her assumptions.
"So you used to make TVs when you were alive? And an entertainer - what kind of stuff did you do? Any theater?"
"You know, maybe! Sinners have been really innovative, figuring out how to make stuff in Hell similarly to how they did on Earth. I bet you could figure it out. We do have the radio for entertainment, but uh... there hasn't been too much excitement about television yet. Just recordings of a lot of the plays and performances that happen around here!"
He... did get the shit beaten out of him earlier for existing. It seemed not everyone was like Princess Charlie here, but maybe she knew some people he could approach about the TV thing...?
"I'm sorry. Hell isn't very safe... we've been trying to get everyone working together..."
But Lilith had her work cut out for her, with Sinners getting more and more territorial over resources and space. They'd asked for support from Heaven, but Lilith had still fervently been wary of the soft power that granted them...
...
"But once you're healed, I can try to teach you a... a little spell or two? I don't know anything very useful, but I can shoot fireworks! And once you get used to this place, you'll probably find ways to make yourself safer!"
Ah, right... yeah, he didn't think it was safe at all. But her talk of spells was intriguing- he'd seen strange things happen down below on the flight over, and any denial of the existence of magic had long since withered in him. I mean, he rode a fucking DRAGON about an hour ago!
Anything would help. I'm a quick study! Haha- maybe with magic, too?
DID he have magic? He had to. He had a television for a head and had regenerative properties. He -had- to have something.
Hmm. Let's see. The eye narrowed a bit in focus. Safe. He needed to learn to keep himself safe. Vincent Whittman wasn't weak.
A flash of blue, just a fleck, and a thin ribbon of electricity steadied between his antennae. He felt a little tingly...
"Oooh... you've got electricity running! Does it hurt? Don't go overboard if it hurts!"
But even so, she stared admiringly at the sparks between diodes. Fast!
"Say, maybe you'll be like the Radio Demon... you might be able to control TVs and stuff once you get your footing! Err, hopefully you're less... scary than the Radio Demon, though."
Ironic? Yes. He remembered electricity coursing through his body when he died. It really was ironic, wasn't it...? But maybe the TV head meant he could do things TV related, too.
Ah. Seems she came to the same conclusion. He needed to investigate that. But-
"Yeaaah.... he's one of the big Overlords, one of the stronger Sinner demons. There's a bunch of them and my mom works with them more than dad or I ever do, so she could tell you a lot more - but you should be really careful. They deal in souls, aaaaand aren't very trustworthy... sometimes some Sinners compare them to mob bosses on Earth? Sometimes? But apparently there's even more killing and violence so."
An awkward little gesture of just. Maybe... don't mess with them?
Overlords = Demon Mob Bosses. Got it. Dealing in souls was a thing like all the stories, and he'd had his fill of the violence for sure. He probably would have been killed if he went into a defensive ball to protect himself.
I'll pass on playing with Hell's mob. I appreciate this information, Princess.
That's it. Make nice with Hell's royalty, and things will work right as rain. Yet as he worked to put a smile in his uncovered eye, the glow of his screen turned snowy. His head sagged a bit. The lightning sputtered and fizzled out.
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Uhm.
Lady, what the fuck can you lift-
If you asked any at the VNN station, they'd praise Charlie for her ability to render Vincent mercifully silent. He'd never been carried before, and needed a good- uh- minute to process. Unsure of where to put his hands, he instead laced his own fingers together and kept them tight against his stomach.
His eye trailed along her neck, so close to it now that he couldn't help but notice. The jawline. That... wasn't a make-up thing, was it? The white skin, the cheek spots...? Where were the horns? The wings? Tail...?
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It was clean, tidy... and rather ornate. No real surprise, there - it fit right into the look of the manor, as did the chaise lounge she carefully started to lower him onto. Never mind that he would get it bloody - Charlie didn't worry about that one bit.
"Okay, yeah, you just relax and sit tight - Dazzle, can you go get the first aid stuff? And Razzle, can you please go get some drinking water for us? Thanks! Let's see... let's get the hot water running, that'll be a little nicer than a cold cloth, right?"
Good thing there's all these fluffy towels! It's enough to make you forget where you are, for a minute. "Oh-- I promise I won't make you owe me anything or say you have to stay here or whatever. Uh, I know sometimes people like to take advantage or whatever, but I think that's kinda mean, so I don't really do it, and you're all my people so I should take care of you anyways!" Charlie started prattling as she ran the sink, soaking a hand towel with warm water.
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Hell no. He's never selling his fucking soul. That's his first hard rule here. He'll get someone ELSE'S--
He sat up straighter, clutching the cushions beneath him to keep himself still as it was almost like she'd read his mind. But off she went for things, and he watched her go.
Vee leaned, owlishly blinking. What a weird woman. Kind, pretty. ...Really weird. Not Hell-like.
Then something caught his peripheral, and he lifted his gaze to a massive portrait above the mantle: The woman he just met but decidedly younger, a rather short and goofy-looking guy in a top hat and white suit, and what had to be the most heart-achingly gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.
Well, there's your answer. The Devil looks like an idiot. ...Lucifer, right? THAT'S the guy that defied God and got grounded for it? Then that must be... Lilith.
Holy shit. They really were... real.
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"Oh! Right. Let's see... this suit is pretty much, uh. Gone? But we can get you some more clothes, so don't feel too bad, okay?"
She carefully crouched and started to gently dab at the blood at the base of Vee's neck. His head looked... reaally heavy and uncomfortable, and probably hurt a lot. Actually, maybe leaving the warm cloth on his neck for a little would help.
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The warm cloth felt... nice. He raised a claw and looked it over, navy skin and curved metallic tips. Bigger, too. Strange... he even clenched and unclenched it a little.
He slowly raised his head to regard her, even if his eye creased a bit in pain from the movement. It disappeared to make more space on the screen:
Thank you, Your Highness
I insist on repaying. <:)
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Hmm... the suit was definitely toast, and it was pretty torn and bloody all over... without thinking much of it, Charlie started unbuttoning it, so she could get a better look.
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It was strange, but the pain of earlier was even now a bit lessened. He'd been beaten up like this in his childhood, and even then, he was down for the count for days from countless bruises, a bloodied nose and more. He wondered what he'd be like tomorr--
Vee sat up straighter in surprise, heart in his throat as snow flashed in what little of his screen wasn't covered by bandages. He gripped the cushion beneath him tighter. There was more navy skin beneath, and among the bruises were almost rib-like lines on his torso. ...Gills?
But he seemed to be radiating a distinct warmth now, very small fans kicking off somewhere in his torso to try and cool himself down. His eye reappeared, trying to avert and look anywhere but at her.
"--Great--"
"--First--"
"--Day--"
Jokes. He's got 'em. Makes things less embarrassing.
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After all, it wasn't like they were those people who fuck in the middle of the street. Not to even mention Lust...!
After taking a minute to carefully examine the body, realizing the gills were gills and not cuts, finding some harsh bruising... looks like a few nasty kicks or hits, but no stabbing or kidney theft...!
"And you'll figure out how to do all the stuff normally in no time flat. Hell is a punishment, but... maybe it can also be home, in a way. That's what I believe, anyway."
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But he released his claws, only to reach up and idly touch where he mouth would be. He seemed to emit sound from a speaker somewhere like a television, but... did that mean he didn't need to eat?
Beneath the bruises, his stomach twisted mildly inward, gnawing. Peckish. He felt hunger, then. But... no mouth...? So how does he-
Wait. He looked back to the portrait.
Is it OK that I'm here??
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The imp from before returned, a shirt folded up and held in his hands. "Once the wounds are no longer bleeding, princess," he informed, leaving it folded and sat on the counter.
"Thanks! But, yeah... I... I want to be like my mom. The Sinners and the Hellborn... they're all our people. And people deserve a chance to try again."
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He canted his head. 'Trying again' means a second chance, sure, but to what end when the decision had been made?
I don't remember going to any gates or being judged. I died, and then... here I am.
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It's something that floated around the manors before. Her father resigned and saying it was pointless to bother protecting the Sinners, that they'll never get better. But that didn't seem fair, didn't seem right. Her mom was working so, so hard to try and get Sinners rallied together, even with the consistent resource problems and the struggles for space.
Charlie wanted to be like Lilith. She had to try.
"It's hard to be a good person in hell, I think. But I don't think that means it's impossible. We just... have to figure it out."
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My only goal right now is to not be placed in a landfill, honestly.
I'm an entertainer, otherwise. Good at talking.
Even if
Uh
I can't really right now.
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"Maybe there's speakers or something that're broken from the fall or from, uh, people jumping you. But that means it'll fix itself!"
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I'd started work with color TVs not long before I died. Maybe that's why mine is?
He clenched a fist.
Maybe I could find a way to get color broadcasting down here!
Yes. ...Yes, he could just begin a new revolution here, starting with getting this place caught up. Why should his afterlife be in black and white when it can pop into full color instead!? Why not make it a clean slate, rather than a punishment?
He just needed to figure out how to get his neck toughened up, support the weight of his head. Sleeping was going to be difficult... but... no, he's overcome challenges before. He was the God of Entertainment!
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The concept that 'Vee' was possibly not the kind of person who cared about doing good or was otherwise harmless... didn't seem to really register, to the princess. Like, technically it seemed possible? But she was getting easily carried away with her assumptions.
"So you used to make TVs when you were alive? And an entertainer - what kind of stuff did you do? Any theater?"
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I did fantastic impressions, and talked to just about every big name in Hollywood.
Sure. That was safe to share. He was proud of it! He wished he could talk so he could show her a few impressions. Alas...
Dabbled in the technology, too. If I can get my hands on a color-displaying model somehow...
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He... did get the shit beaten out of him earlier for existing. It seemed not everyone was like Princess Charlie here, but maybe she knew some people he could approach about the TV thing...?
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"I'm sorry. Hell isn't very safe... we've been trying to get everyone working together..."
But Lilith had her work cut out for her, with Sinners getting more and more territorial over resources and space. They'd asked for support from Heaven, but Lilith had still fervently been wary of the soft power that granted them...
...
"But once you're healed, I can try to teach you a... a little spell or two? I don't know anything very useful, but I can shoot fireworks! And once you get used to this place, you'll probably find ways to make yourself safer!"
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Anything would help.
I'm a quick study!
Haha- maybe with magic, too?
DID he have magic? He had to. He had a television for a head and had regenerative properties. He -had- to have something.
Hmm. Let's see. The eye narrowed a bit in focus. Safe. He needed to learn to keep himself safe. Vincent Whittman wasn't weak.
A flash of blue, just a fleck, and a thin ribbon of electricity steadied between his antennae. He felt a little tingly...
Trying...
...Is this doing anything??
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But even so, she stared admiringly at the sparks between diodes. Fast!
"Say, maybe you'll be like the Radio Demon... you might be able to control TVs and stuff once you get your footing! Err, hopefully you're less... scary than the Radio Demon, though."
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Ironic? Yes. He remembered electricity coursing through his body when he died. It really was ironic, wasn't it...? But maybe the TV head meant he could do things TV related, too.
Ah. Seems she came to the same conclusion. He needed to investigate that. But-
The Radio Demon??
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An awkward little gesture of just. Maybe... don't mess with them?
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I'll pass on playing with Hell's mob.
I appreciate this information, Princess.
That's it. Make nice with Hell's royalty, and things will work right as rain. Yet as he worked to put a smile in his uncovered eye, the glow of his screen turned snowy. His head sagged a bit. The lightning sputtered and fizzled out.
Oh. ...Right. Energy. Busted up.
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