He sighed in the lingering silence. Great. At least they didn't fight.
He sat up and lowered the blanket, searched the dark for Alastor's... creacher-like ass.
"...Shit, how do I handle breakfast? Could I skip?"
It was early. He could slip down, get something small, then hurry back. Pathetic? Yes. But he was ravenous.
He threw one leg off the edge of the bed. Right. ...One. Shit.
Fuck it. Fuck this.
His eyes fell to the coat rack in the corner. It wasn't a cane by any means, but... hmm. It'll do. He was a god damned innovator.
By the next minute, he was doing his best to move through the hall, draped like a hermit in the blanket, propping weight against the makeshift walking stick and hopping to the one foot he had. All the while, he was checking and rechecking his cables. If they'd just grow back, he could weave a temporary leg...
Whatever. WEIRD MYSTERIOUS HERMIT IN THE HALL. DON'T PERCEIVE HIM.
At least it looks like most other guests are groggy, if they're even up at all - shuffling through the hallway to the stairs or the elevators, not paying each other much mind, including Vox himself. Nothing in the elevator but a couple of sleepy yawns, only two of the four other Sinners even recognizing each other - a pair of gals groggily talk about getting their morning coffee and I hope they got more of the caramel creamer.
It's a pretty sharp contrast how sleepy everyone is at seven compared to... well, the Princess herself in the kitchen and dining space, literally glittering with energy.
"Good morniiiiing! Oh, Rooster! Hi! Did you sleep well? Good! Lessee-- oh, hi!! We haven't met yet, I'm Charlie Morningstar--"
The kitchen and dining area itself seems mostly quiet as well, Niffty helming the breakfast... and mercifully, it seems relatively normal. Coffee, cereals, bagels, fruits of all earthly and hellish kinds... exactly what you'd expect from a hotel breakfast, at the end of the day. And aside from Niffty fastidiously scrubbing at every single drop of jam or splat of butter with an unsettling fervor, there's no sign of Alastor's chaotic energy anywhere.
The first presence to acknowledge Vox at all was a hand on his back, followed by that expected voice. "Good morning! Oh! Hey, you actually made it bright and early - I was going to come tell you that dad's working on new legs for you. He said they should be done today, so you won't have to wait too long - he decided to just make a matching pair instead of trying to match the one you have, if that makes sense?"
It was weird... he hadn't felt this level of anxiety in a LONG, long time. He felt a temporary spike of it when the angels appeared at his rally, but it came in prickles up his arms every time he studied a sleepy Sinner who just walked past and didn't seem to recognize him.
Too many. There were too fucking many people in this place. Then again, they got proof that redemption actually worked... but it was NOT helping this little outing that he'd hoped would be an in-the-dark and solo venture.
Vox watched the activity, gradually growing relieved that there were the crowds. There was a sense of being invisible when there was just too much to focus--
He jumped with the hand, froze... but relaxed with the voice. Slightly. If Charlie could recognize him, who else could??
"Uh- great! ...Great. Is it always this fucking busy...??"
Sorry, Vox... your face does kind of... literally glow, after all.
"Ever since Sir Pentious' broadcast...! It's great, isn't it?? This is even just the early bird crew, most people sleep in for an hour or more if they don't have to hurry to work," Charlie cooed a bit excitedly.
"Right, you're kinda stuck with only one free hand - let me help make your plate. Do you want some coffee? How do you take it?"
Right... here too, huh? He made a note to show up even earlier, if he could manage. When he stayed at hotels while he was alive, it never hurt to be so much of a night owl you were still awake when the kitchen staff roused to get started. "...Noted."
But Vox quirked a brow at her. Do you have a dimmer switch? Did you even sleep?
"Oh, you know: One part oat milk to three parts coffee, 160 degrees, two raw sugars." A test. A gag. Should he add affogato and ristretto?
Oat milk, okay, degrees?? She'll just... assume thee coffee pot temp is normal?? Maybe there was a temperature setting on the machine? And--
"Raw... sugar. Uhh, is that basically just... regular cane sugar? From earth, right? I can do that I think," she hummed, brows furrowed in concentration before straightening up and going to fetch a mug.
She didn't catch it, but the question has him pause.
"Sort of? I think??" It was un-fucked-with sugar, right? That's what he recalled-
She left.
"WaitWAIT--" He couldn't grab her with his current walking stick setup, and if he tried to head after her, he risked exposure.
You and your BIG FUCKING MOUTH, VINCE!
"Char-... Charlieee-" He tried calling, but it was too hushed in trying to avoid having his voice recognizable. Really, he should have thought this through, maybe did a voice mimic--
Okay, if they had that stuff here, he'd drink it. It sounded like oatmeal in a cup, but it'd hold him over breakfast-wise while he checked his messages a few... dozen... more times. What was he going to do, throw out coffee?? That's caffeine.
Ooookay, let's see, get the grounds for the machine. Oh, hi, good morning! Now, the coffee machine... uhhh... Charlie squinted at it, lifting up some of the scribbled post-its that Alastor had made to mock the thing. So what if it had a lot of settings, the guests could have coffee in a way they like!!
"Oh, holy shit, there's actually a temperature option--" Charlie gasped in triumphant surprise, getting the machine brewing and the mug underneath the spigot while she moved to the fridge to find what milk was available. Let's see, a lot of regular ol' pasteurized hellcow milk, some Lust ring "milk" (eww but also thanks, uncle Ozzie, that kept people from 'making their own' or slipping it into the regular milk........), soy milk, almond milk... ah, damn.
"Hey, is almond milk okay?" Charlie asked, looking over at Vox from where she stood at the fridge - and of course, a few people peeked over to see who she was talking to, a natural reaction and reflex.
Look, he'll just take whatever if it'll wake himmMMM--!!
Colors blinked within the hood as he wildly gestured with his free hand in his best attempt of WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING- before he saw many, many other eyes turning his way.
Quickly, he pulled the hood lower and looked back and beyond himself, as if Charlie may be speaking to someone else coming in. But let's also just... walk behind this very swirly, swoopy looking ficus here to obscure himself a bit.
It allowed him to try and make eye contact to wildly gesture at her and half shrug like WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!
"Ohp, shit, uh-- yeah, almond milk's fine? Okay!" Charlie called, completely unconvincingly, towards a nebulous... nobody? Much to everyone's confusion?
Mumble, mumble. It's too early, man...
Hooohhhkay she'll just get the milk and stir it in... get some sugar... there we go. Aaaand let's grab some fruit and a muffin too, might as well.
"Alright, everyone - introduction sessions are at ten, see youtherebye!"
He slowly pulled the hood further down as Charlie just kept TALKING, AAAHHH--
Help him, ficus. You're his only hope. Vox peeked, briefly, remembering that some Hell plants were carnivorous. They weren't stupid enough to put man-eating plants in here, right? Whew. This one had no mouths. Just eeeeeyes.
No man-eating here! Just lots of eyes, yeah... lots and lots of eyes.
She'll just... carry the coffee and little plate of breakfast off to the side, at one of the little lobby tables. Yeaaaaaah... she waves Vox over when the 'coast is clear', i.e., when no one else was really paying attention.
She may have waved the all-clear, but he still lifted the hood just enough to look around, and made the awkward hobble-shuffle over to the table.
"Okay- for the record, definitely not attending the introduction session, and while I... appreciate... the effort here, my plan is to just... take this up to my room."
He was already trying to figure out the logistics. "...Less risky."
Risky... right. He'd be getting a LOT of heat for what he'd done. She'd wanted to give him a kick across the courtyard, so it wasn't like she didn't understand the feeling.
But--
"So long as you're here and a guest, no one's allowed to fight. You'll have to face people eventually..."
Though, she trailed off a bit, in thought. Sighed.
"...But that can at least wait for when your legs are done. So you can leave a room if you need to. Come on, I'll carry this up for you."
He knew passing up a bite to eat was foolish in the long run. Regeneration was part of their punishment as Sinners, but replacing flesh and mending torn pieces burned calories. The more reckless demons among the lot of them- the ones that chose instead to endlessly fight in their frustration and try to thrive in their immortality- wound up as bony little husks until they learned the lesson.
"No, you have a meeting to get ready for. I'll figure this out." Wrap some blanket around these, form a pouch, maybe... something that can at least last him. He'd need the energy, though. So, without thinking, he downed the drink he'd sent her along to handle in jest...
...
Wait, what the fuck? This was actually good?? Wait, why the fuck did nobody tell him almond milk was GOOD?
She giggled, a little. "Pretty good, right? One of our guests suggested we have almond milk and it's pretty darn tasty! I like mine with a little caramel drizzle in the coffee too, it's like a morning dessert!"
She's holding onto that plate - she'll help out if she can, you hear!!
It distracted him enough to not argue any further on having help. Instead he made a note to get a little almond milk in the fridge back home once he--...
...
He checked his inbox again. Nothing.
Vox sighed inwardly as he adjusted the coat rack, and started his journey back.
"...I remember milk alternatives being chalkier before, but that one was... fine. I was fucking with you, by the way: I usually take my coffee black. But caffeine is caffeine, at the end of the day."
"Oh. Well. I offered to help, so I helped," Charlie admitted with a shrug. "I go through phases with coffee and tea... sometimes I want it without anything in there, but lately I really like coffee with a bit of the caramel creamer and some honey."
She'll lead the way to the elevator again, going at a considerate pace so she didn't leave him behind. Definitely if he was worried about guests getting rough with their frustrations... hopefully she could keep everyone in agreement to use their words, not their fists...!
"Color me shocked," He muttered, and once they got into the elevator, he leaned rather heavily upon the rack to get a breather. The sweat was dotty pixels on his screen.
"You're the 'medium in a large cup for extra whipped cream'. You can be honest. I drink gas station coffee unironically."
"Ooooh, those are really good too!! Especially with sprinkles! But you can't have something like that with a croissant or other pastry... then you don't appreciate how nice the pastry is!"
She laughs, a little.
"My go-to at a gas station is always gonna be a slushie, though."
He spluttered an unexpected laugh in his amusement. "Well, I mean, yeah! The slushies are the best damned bits of a convenience store! ...If their cola flavor is ever available, that is. It's always 'out of order' when I swing in..."
He sighed wistfully. "...Fuck, I'd tear up a cheese danish right about now..."
"I LOVE the cherry flavor one! Sooometimes I get the energy drink slush, buuuut Vaggi always told me I get a little much when I drink a whole one of those," she laughed.
Still, in the privacy of the elevator again, she gave Vox a playful little nudge of her elbow.
"You knoooow... I beeeeeet that once people worked through their feelings a little and got to talk to you like this, you could really get on the right track to making more friends!"
He wanted to note that if she wanted to have a hummingbird's heart, that was her prerogative, but the nudge had him quiet.
He straightened up immediately, adjusting his grip on the rack and avoiding eye contact. Even draped with the blanket, he tried his best to assume the crisp professionalism he always fought to convey.
"You can bet all you like, princess, but the other Vees will be along in another day or so tops. Everything in the tower is probably crumbling right now as I speak and they'll have the limo loaded up by lunch! I go back to my life, and you go back to one where you... won't..."
Pardon him: He was checking his inbox again, and found it empty. Maybe a voicemail would work? But when his display noted he was calling Velvette, it didn't even ring once. Instead, he got an array of middle finger emojis and the message BLOCKED.
Vox huffed, moved up the contact list. Valentino, then! Silly him, he shouldn't have tried to call Vel when--
BLOCKED.
He cleared his throat. "Er- ...where you won't need to worry about all of this...!"
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He sat up and lowered the blanket, searched the dark for Alastor's... creacher-like ass.
"...Shit, how do I handle breakfast? Could I skip?"
It was early. He could slip down, get something small, then hurry back. Pathetic? Yes. But he was ravenous.
He threw one leg off the edge of the bed. Right. ...One. Shit.
Fuck it. Fuck this.
His eyes fell to the coat rack in the corner. It wasn't a cane by any means, but... hmm. It'll do. He was a god damned innovator.
By the next minute, he was doing his best to move through the hall, draped like a hermit in the blanket, propping weight against the makeshift walking stick and hopping to the one foot he had. All the while, he was checking and rechecking his cables. If they'd just grow back, he could weave a temporary leg...
Whatever. WEIRD MYSTERIOUS HERMIT IN THE HALL. DON'T PERCEIVE HIM.
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It's a pretty sharp contrast how sleepy everyone is at seven compared to... well, the Princess herself in the kitchen and dining space, literally glittering with energy.
"Good morniiiiing! Oh, Rooster! Hi! Did you sleep well? Good! Lessee-- oh, hi!! We haven't met yet, I'm Charlie Morningstar--"
The kitchen and dining area itself seems mostly quiet as well, Niffty helming the breakfast... and mercifully, it seems relatively normal. Coffee, cereals, bagels, fruits of all earthly and hellish kinds... exactly what you'd expect from a hotel breakfast, at the end of the day. And aside from Niffty fastidiously scrubbing at every single drop of jam or splat of butter with an unsettling fervor, there's no sign of Alastor's chaotic energy anywhere.
The first presence to acknowledge Vox at all was a hand on his back, followed by that expected voice. "Good morning! Oh! Hey, you actually made it bright and early - I was going to come tell you that dad's working on new legs for you. He said they should be done today, so you won't have to wait too long - he decided to just make a matching pair instead of trying to match the one you have, if that makes sense?"
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Too many. There were too fucking many people in this place. Then again, they got proof that redemption actually worked... but it was NOT helping this little outing that he'd hoped would be an in-the-dark and solo venture.
Vox watched the activity, gradually growing relieved that there were the crowds. There was a sense of being invisible when there was just too much to focus--
He jumped with the hand, froze... but relaxed with the voice. Slightly. If Charlie could recognize him, who else could??
"Uh- great! ...Great. Is it always this fucking busy...??"
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"Ever since Sir Pentious' broadcast...! It's great, isn't it?? This is even just the early bird crew, most people sleep in for an hour or more if they don't have to hurry to work," Charlie cooed a bit excitedly.
"Right, you're kinda stuck with only one free hand - let me help make your plate. Do you want some coffee? How do you take it?"
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But Vox quirked a brow at her. Do you have a dimmer switch? Did you even sleep?
"Oh, you know: One part oat milk to three parts coffee, 160 degrees, two raw sugars." A test. A gag. Should he add affogato and ristretto?
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"Raw... sugar. Uhh, is that basically just... regular cane sugar? From earth, right? I can do that I think," she hummed, brows furrowed in concentration before straightening up and going to fetch a mug.
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"Sort of? I think??" It was un-fucked-with sugar, right? That's what he recalled-
She left.
"WaitWAIT--" He couldn't grab her with his current walking stick setup, and if he tried to head after her, he risked exposure.
You and your BIG FUCKING MOUTH, VINCE!
"Char-... Charlieee-" He tried calling, but it was too hushed in trying to avoid having his voice recognizable. Really, he should have thought this through, maybe did a voice mimic--
Okay, if they had that stuff here, he'd drink it. It sounded like oatmeal in a cup, but it'd hold him over breakfast-wise while he checked his messages a few... dozen... more times. What was he going to do, throw out coffee?? That's caffeine.
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"Oh, holy shit, there's actually a temperature option--" Charlie gasped in triumphant surprise, getting the machine brewing and the mug underneath the spigot while she moved to the fridge to find what milk was available. Let's see, a lot of regular ol' pasteurized hellcow milk, some Lust ring "milk" (eww but also thanks, uncle Ozzie, that kept people from 'making their own' or slipping it into the regular milk........), soy milk, almond milk... ah, damn.
"Hey, is almond milk okay?" Charlie asked, looking over at Vox from where she stood at the fridge - and of course, a few people peeked over to see who she was talking to, a natural reaction and reflex.
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Colors blinked within the hood as he wildly gestured with his free hand in his best attempt of WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING- before he saw many, many other eyes turning his way.
Quickly, he pulled the hood lower and looked back and beyond himself, as if Charlie may be speaking to someone else coming in. But let's also just... walk behind this very swirly, swoopy looking ficus here to obscure himself a bit.
It allowed him to try and make eye contact to wildly gesture at her and half shrug like WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!
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Mumble, mumble. It's too early, man...
Hooohhhkay she'll just get the milk and stir it in... get some sugar... there we go. Aaaand let's grab some fruit and a muffin too, might as well.
"Alright, everyone - introduction sessions are at ten, see youtherebye!"
She'll zip off, trying to be discreet. WHOOPS.
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Help him, ficus. You're his only hope. Vox peeked, briefly, remembering that some Hell plants were carnivorous. They weren't stupid enough to put man-eating plants in here, right? Whew. This one had no mouths. Just eeeeeyes.
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She'll just... carry the coffee and little plate of breakfast off to the side, at one of the little lobby tables. Yeaaaaaah... she waves Vox over when the 'coast is clear', i.e., when no one else was really paying attention.
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"Okay- for the record, definitely not attending the introduction session, and while I... appreciate... the effort here, my plan is to just... take this up to my room."
He was already trying to figure out the logistics. "...Less risky."
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But--
"So long as you're here and a guest, no one's allowed to fight. You'll have to face people eventually..."
Though, she trailed off a bit, in thought. Sighed.
"...But that can at least wait for when your legs are done. So you can leave a room if you need to. Come on, I'll carry this up for you."
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"No, you have a meeting to get ready for. I'll figure this out." Wrap some blanket around these, form a pouch, maybe... something that can at least last him. He'd need the energy, though. So, without thinking, he downed the drink he'd sent her along to handle in jest...
...
Wait, what the fuck? This was actually good?? Wait, why the fuck did nobody tell him almond milk was GOOD?
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She's holding onto that plate - she'll help out if she can, you hear!!
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...
He checked his inbox again. Nothing.
Vox sighed inwardly as he adjusted the coat rack, and started his journey back.
"...I remember milk alternatives being chalkier before, but that one was... fine. I was fucking with you, by the way: I usually take my coffee black. But caffeine is caffeine, at the end of the day."
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She'll lead the way to the elevator again, going at a considerate pace so she didn't leave him behind. Definitely if he was worried about guests getting rough with their frustrations... hopefully she could keep everyone in agreement to use their words, not their fists...!
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"You're the 'medium in a large cup for extra whipped cream'. You can be honest. I drink gas station coffee unironically."
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She laughs, a little.
"My go-to at a gas station is always gonna be a slushie, though."
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He sighed wistfully. "...Fuck, I'd tear up a cheese danish right about now..."
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Still, in the privacy of the elevator again, she gave Vox a playful little nudge of her elbow.
"You knoooow... I beeeeeet that once people worked through their feelings a little and got to talk to you like this, you could really get on the right track to making more friends!"
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He straightened up immediately, adjusting his grip on the rack and avoiding eye contact. Even draped with the blanket, he tried his best to assume the crisp professionalism he always fought to convey.
"You can bet all you like, princess, but the other Vees will be along in another day or so tops. Everything in the tower is probably crumbling right now as I speak and they'll have the limo loaded up by lunch! I go back to my life, and you go back to one where you... won't..."
Pardon him: He was checking his inbox again, and found it empty. Maybe a voicemail would work? But when his display noted he was calling Velvette, it didn't even ring once. Instead, he got an array of middle finger emojis and the message BLOCKED.
Vox huffed, moved up the contact list. Valentino, then! Silly him, he shouldn't have tried to call Vel when--
BLOCKED.
He cleared his throat. "Er- ...where you won't need to worry about all of this...!"
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"Well... just in case they need a bit more time to work through their feelings too, right?"
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This has happened before.
This has happened before.
This isn't going to be different.
The blocking is new, though...
"They need me. They better work through their feelings quick if they don't want the fucking tower to burn down."
He gripped the rack tighter. His claws could delve into the wood, but not with this model's claws. Instead they made thin scratches.
"...I swear to god, if my sharks are starving..."
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