divinetree | Charlie & Vox

"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."

But they're already here.

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.

"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. I'm an entertainer, otherwise. Good at talking. Even if Uh I can't really right now.

"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?"

Hosted my own show! Did interviews, comedy skits and music. 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...

"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!"

I want to ask around, but... is it safe?

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...?

Bah... Charlie frowned a bit sadly.

"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...

Trying... ...Is this doing anything??

"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."

Hurt? No...

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??

"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.

Oh. ...Right. Energy. Busted up.

"Oof, yeah, take it easy... you'll feel better soon," Charlie promised, taking the glass of water offered by Razzle.

Though... huh. How to... actually help him drink. Most object-headed Sinners still had to eat and drink, so... Vee should be able to.

"Hmm... you should be able to drink. You have a mouth sometimes, we just gotta figure out..."

He reached up and palpated the bottom half of his screen. A mouth...? Right, he was making sounds before outside of his speakers. Give him a second... god, the last thing he wanted was to somehow die of starvation or thirst because he can't figure this out.

The glass was smooth, warm to the touch. It was soft, rather like gel somehow. He pressed his claws against it, and the simulation of the mouth opened up, hoping to pass something through.

He can't starve. Don't starve. Water. He needed water. Come on, mind over matter--

His eye narrowed, glowed brighter as he visualized the feeling of a mouth opening and closing. Slowly, he felt something opening, and his fingers slipped inside, felt a tingle as they brushed against rows of sharp teeth. His 'Ah' was more the sound of static than anything remotely close to human.

His other hand joined, feeling around his open mouth. Strange, but the screen was somehow able to... part? And the inside tingled, but otherwise felt warm like a normal mouth.

...

And he must have looked weird, as he quickly snapped his mouth shut and folded his hands on his lap.

Sorry.

"Hey!! You did it!" Charlie cheered, giving an almost-clap by tapping her arm before passing over the glass of water. "That's good! That means we can get you something to eat too, so rest and recovery should go real smooth!"

Strange Sinner anatomy always was strange to witness... she always wondered how long it took them to get used to their new strange bodies.

"It's kind of cool - I never pictured a TV having a mouth, but it totally makes sense when I see you do it."

He accepted the glass and tried again. Now that he had the visual, and now that he had an idea of how this weird mouth felt to open and close, it was simpler to raise the glass to what passed for his lips, and--

--Wait, wasn't he electronics now? Shouldn't he--

Nothing. The water was cool in its rush over a tongue he realized he had, and swallowing was an instinct. He felt what had to be his stomach curl a bit, receiving it's first bit of sustenance since his death, and the thought of food was enough to wake it right up and help him realize that he was famished.

"...I-innt-int-teres-ting-ing-ing-" God, he sounded embarrassing. But wait, that wasn't a channel. That was his voice.

Voice.

Voice.

He was the voice of a revolution, and still could be here. Vox popu--

He sat up straighter. He reached for one of Charlie's hands and took it.

"V--x-- V o x."

"Vox!! That's a great name!" Charlie beamed, squeezing his hand back. "Did you pick it out? Is that latin? I know some latin! That was one of the first languages I learned," she gabbed a bit excitedly, giggling a bit. "There's a lot of classic stage-plays in latin. I did SOOOO many in college, it was a blast! I learned a little German, too, but uh-- it's been about thirty years since I last spoke it, so I don't remember it well, ehehe."

Wait!! She's babbling again, huh? Charlie shook her head to get herself back on task.

"Anyway!! Vox, with plenty of practice and rest you'll feel like a whole new demon! It'll be great!"

That's so weird. Like- he expected some kind of ribbing, some joke, but there was full support and he left him feeling a little... pleasantly squirmy. His followers would look up at him with some level of adoration and it always got a charge out of him... he missed that already.

But Vox blinked at her. Right, she was probably thousands of years old or something, Latin was likely something second-nature. But he wondered what stage-plays she enjoyed, what college was like here as he quietly finished his drink and fell into thought.

She sure was a talker, he noticed. He also had a tendency to babble. Perhaps it was to everyone's benefit right now that his voice was still pretty busted, or everyone in the palace would be in trouble.

With practice using his mouth under his belt, he offered a smile as he nodded. He could keep practicing. He could rest. He would repay a debt and then figure things out from there. He worked best when he had a list of goals. A to-do list!

Vox the... television demon?... would not be weak. He wouldn't be a nobody. Oh, he was going to be the somebody that would make his mark in Hell, perhaps further and brighter than he was when he was alive.

As he wandered in thought, Charlie finished cleaning off most of the blood and wrapped up the few gashes. So many bruises... those would probably heal up the fastest, at least! Once he was all set, she grabbed the nice button-down left by the staff and offered it to him - it was a pleasant powdery purple with ruffles along the sleeves. Not even close to Vox's style, but at least it was something roughly in the range of the right size for him.

"How're you feeling? Are you hurting a bit too much to eat, or do you want something? We can get something small to help your stomach settle, then a little opium should go down a lot easier."

Ah, right. Hell's healthcare might be... a bit behind.

They'd done a real number on him. Vox had to wonder how the fuck they could possibly get anything from a Sinner freshly dead with no possessions, but... he had a feeling they were just bored and looking for something to break.

He would remember their faces.

He offered a thumbs up, feeling a bit better in all honesty. He could already feel something... odd... like a gravitation of individual parts to each other. One's damnation must persist here in Hell. No escape through death.

Wait, opium?? Shit, that was something his grandpa would talk about. H-how... how far behind was Hell, again??

He waved off a polite refusal for the opiate. Being high would probably take the edge off, but he needed to keep his mind even, now more than ever.

Small bite, then a little sleep, I think. I don't want to use up too much of your time!

"We'll get some snacks, then! And don't worry - there's plenty of time. I've got all the time in Hell to help my people out," Charlie encouraged fondly, gently taking Vox's hands and easing him upright. There was some blood on the chaise, but Charlie didn't even blink at it, carefully walking him out into the front guest room to sit down for a bit.

"Something easy like tea, I think... I always find it really cozy! Say, Dazzle-- oh!"

The darker red dragon had flown off and already returned with a teatime plate of biscuits, cookies and little sandwiches, tiny forked tongue sticking out of his mouth in a silly, proud-of-himself blep. He took the initiative!

"Thanks, Dazzle! Okay, some stuff is probably gonna taste different than Earth food, but from what I hear most Sinners get used to food easily here. This has some of the veggies we grow in Wrath ring, the bread is from our cultivation of rye in the volcanic soil down there, there's some slices of hell-boar, this is some jellyfish jam from Envy, it's kinda savory-sweet..."

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