That's how he knew Alastor was ab-so-lute-ly gone. Other than him, he had a cousin that called him Vinny, but that was it. But his own head swam, keeping him from reminding his buddy that- hey- he was trying to go with the name change, something that had a little punch to it...
But... it was okay when Al did it, if he's honest. It had a way of making a little somersault in his stomach, which he masked with a mild exasperation whenever the other seemed to whine the pet name during walks home.
When the radio demon leaned expectantly, he moved almost automatically: A claw raised, held just inches from the end of the cigarette, he generated a spark. The heat was a flash, igniting paper and tobacco.
This... just... this. Fresh kills around them, the night being young, or... old, or... whatever- who even CARED?- and sharing a laugh over all the damage they caused, what fun they drummed up today. Sinners always bitched about their struggles down here, but they just didn't think outside the box like the two of them. But Alastor and Vincent-Vox, they were two peas in a pod.
As the soft glow of the lit cigarette added a brief gold across his bangs, the red of his eyes, Vox found himself slouching a little further. His smile turned lopsided as he regarded the other man with a coy cant of his head. He was exactly where he wanted to be, didn't know where he'd needed to be until nights like these.
He was certain now. He never wanted to stop moments like these.
"...Marry me."
His tone was dreamy, hand propped on the damaged rooftop as he'd leaned closer, thin thread of electricity dancing between his antennae.
Nowhere but in Hell would Alastor meet people who could revel in the joy of a massacre like he did. Vincent - Vox - wasn't the only bloodthirsty maniac, but to have that and a similar taste for theatrics? A love for dance, and jazz, and entertainment? Someone who talked his ears off - sometimes a little excessively, but sometimes it was a welcome reprieve.
Nobody liked radio silence.
The spark of electricity, the light dancing and darkening his own shadows... Alastor didn't look towards his own shadow, though he could see from the corner of his eye that it was also still giggling with delight, cuddling up against Vincent's shadow as if he could feel it. Him, too, pal... this demon hadn't asked for anything but his company ever since they met. Insisted on showing his progress, showing he didn't need Alastor to do things for him, then would drag him along for drinks.
Alastor was quite sure of it, now... if his afterlife always had nights like this one, then hell really was his personal heaven.
It caught him off guard. Right as he'd lifted the cigarette to pull another breath from it, he felt something.
You're never fully dressed without a smile, my dear!
Alastor had murdered, danced, endured severe disrespectful actions and words without losing that smile for even a moment. Even in life, he had his face nearly permanently drawn up - his perfect shield, his perfect weapon.
Never in his life or afterlife had Alastor heard those two words from anyone.
Even from between his fingers, the cigarette practically dangling, Vox would see his smile drop... and his eyes widen and shine with a whole flurry of emotions.
It pulled back up, almost reflexively, but Alastor's eyes glowed bright red and fixed on Vox with intrigue. Slowly, he exhaled, mind alight with myriad thoughts and feelings.
Here, covered in blood, sharing a cigarette... Alastor watched the emotions as they transformed on the screen in front of him, prompting a little giggle. He was taking too long to answer, wasn't he? Heehee. Hehehee...
Drunkenness took away any impulse control left - without a word, Alastor snickered and put his hand on Vox's shoulder before giving him a rough shove, pushing him off the rubble to land on his ass. And before his pal could stand up, even though Alastor was wobbly and drunk, he jumped up to run a distance, only stopping to make sure his Vincent got back up. "MAKE me, pal!"
Even at his level of intoxication, he felt his stomach drop like a stone. He'd thought of 'forever', ached for it, and his mouth ran away with him... like it always did.
But was it something he didn't want, in the grand scheme of things? He'd never married in life. A spouse would be suspicious, need to be silenced if they found the trail of bodies he'd left in his climb to the top. The Whittman line died with him in kind. But to be entwined, his design with theirs, to give himself completely... oh, the idea sounded absolutely wonderful.
Alastor wasn't responding. The smile dropped, if temporarily, and Vox felt his heart shudder, twist and curl inward. He was ready to say he was just kidding or 'woof, what was in those drinks??', do something to salvage the situation and not ruin things permanently--
"Wh-" A hand grabbed, and with an impish snicker, tested his balance. Vox's arms did a brief pinwheel as he toppled off that segment of crumpled roof, butt to the pavement.
MAKE me, pal!
His eyes widened. What... what did that mean? Did he not hear what he'd said? No laugh, no... subject change, or...?
Not helped by the weight of his head, Vox needed to grab a segment of the roof to bring himself upright, but by the time he found his balance upon his shoes, the drunk deer had made some distance.
"Pfft... whaaat, you don't like a possible Alastor Whittman?" Part of his brain screamed a demand of WHATAREYOUDOING, but the rest didn't care as he followed after the other demon, stumbling momentarily as he lost a shoe. He turned back to go get it. Ffffuckin' shoe...
"HAH! You're not even keeping the name, why should I take it, Vox?" Alastor teased back, claws hooking lazily around a bent lamp post so that he swung around lazily like a dancer instead of falling sideways onto the pavement like the drunkard he was.
He laughed, completely unaware just how smitten his expression was.
Vincent knew the demon that Alastor was. Knew every bit of it - the violence, the rage, the murders. And then also saw his favorite things, enjoyed them, shared in them. Some fuzzy, hazy part of his mind was trying to nag at him, remind him to be cautious--!!
...He's the strongest Sinner in Hell. If Vincent fails to meet his standard, he'll just eat him! ♥
"What're you dawdling for? Do you want it or not?"
He hopped along, trying his best to put that shoe back on and tie it tight. He only needed a few seconds before he's jogging along. "What? It's smart! Names have power, old man...! I don't want just anybody knowing and throwing it around... only the ones that matter."
He couldn't stop buzzing. If he touched anything, he knew it'd be with a full static charge. The light even flickered a little when he passed under them, struggling from the interference.
"...Ones I'd be glad to- give- my- name- to...!"
Wait, he had something for this. He could catch up if he just tried... tried this thing he learned he could do. Though he stumbled again in his intoxication, he hunched and focused. He dissolved into electricity and made a jump- just a short one- and popped into his physical form before he tried again, and again, and again-
Augh, come on, he could do LONGER jumps yesterday...!
Playfully, Alastor melted into shadow - popping up just a liiiittle further each time, making Vox jump again, and again, closer, and closer... imitation is a form of flattery, they say, and Vincent always seemed to find clever little ways to emulate him and his power, but through his own means. It's a little embarrassing! But endearing.
Alastor liked being chased.
After a bit more teasing and a few more funny little jumps, the Radio Demon's shadow disappeared in the black completely. All to give him the chance, naturally, to emerge right behind Vincent to wrap his arms around the man's chest from behind in a loose embrace.
"Vinny~"
It was the only warning Vincent would get before Al tugged down his sweaty collar and sunk his teeth in. A ring, a proposal all his own - since he didn't have the real thing on him just yet.
Surrounded by so many other sinners who had myriad powers, Vincent refused to let himself fall behind. To his delight, he embraced the irony of his curse, delved into anything he could read on the properties of electricity and radio waves to further understand what he could do, rather than fear what had led to his violent death.
It was like popping free from one's own confines, slipping out of clothes that were perhaps too tight to change, move through the air and pop back in his usual form. Were he not currently pickling his liver, he would have recalled that there were power lines he could jump into and zip to wherever he needed.
After a few jumps, he was short of breath. He needed to practice, toughen up the ability... but where did...?
"...Al?..." Did he leave? He couldn't have run that far ahead already. He sent a ping as he made a few wobbly steps, trying to get a gauge for how close Alastor was.
But arms were already around him, and his heart all but leaped into his throat, but only half from the surprise. "Jesus--ffffFU͗C̝͋̒̌K̲͈̘̟̣̔̐-"
Sparks flew from his antennae as his body jerked, the hard bite catching the yelp and turning it into... a brand new sound, one that elicited a shudder as warm blood flowed.
Lucky for Vox, Alastor was feeling generous - and probably full from the previous slaughter - so he didn't take a whole chunk out with that bite.
Besides! It'd make for a poor ring, more of a circle, hmm?
"Mmmm... Tasty!"
Giggling and bleating a bit, Alastor drunkenly rubbed his cheek against the side of Vox's boxy head, smearing the blood splattered on them even more with the gesture.
"Caught you~. You'll have to try harder than that!"
God, the bite burned and stung, the blood was warm and quickly stained the collar of his turtleneck, and yet he could feel the goosebumps rising across his arms and chest. A charge wobbled and swayed between his antennae.
"I-it's a work in progress! I'm not shaped like something that can run like hell, you know...!" Could he risk it? Could he just offer the smallest nuzzle back...?
"Er, wait, is- ...is this a yes? Hahaha- I'm a little lost, Al-"
A little nuzzle back, how cute! Alastor chuckled and started humming a tune, stepping back to take one of Vincent's hands and give him a twirl, pulling him into a dance again. Even after drinking a barrel's worth of whiskey and dancing from sunset till nearly dawn again, Alastor couldn't resist pulling this silly picture box back in.
Naturally, a gentle piano tinked away through Alastor's speakers as he danced, somehow managing not to fall on his ass despite his deep sway.
♪♫ "Unforgettable... that's what you are~ Unforgettable... though near or far!" ♫♪
It's not an answer... it's just Nat Cole. But in this moment, under the harsh red moonlight, still bloodspattered - it felt right. This was the perfect moment for it.
♪♫ "Like a song of love that clings to me, how the thought of you does things to me. Never before has someone been more~" ♫♪
He felt like he was sailing as he was pulled in again, and his heart leaped into his throat. Al sang Nat King Cole, and Vox felt those butterflies. He was... he was so confused, but he was dancing now, and the song was so wonderful...!
♫♪ Unforgettable ♪♫ ♫♪ In every way... ♪♫
Low and soft, powered by the burn of liquor in the belly. Could he... could they... touch a little more? Foreheads. Foreheads should be okay...
♫♪ And forevermore ♪♫ ♫♪ That's how you'll stay... ♪♫
If only he hadn't slipped and said what he'd said now, rather than plan things out. He had the money... a little. He could buy a nice ring. Nice-ish. Maybe get something far nicer if he just worked a bit harder, sold a few things he owned...
♫♪ "That's why, darling, it's incredible That someone so unforgettable Thinks that I am unforgettable, too..." ♪♫
Alastor chuckled at the light snap of static and the way his hair frizzed up. It always made him laugh. Being this close, head swimming and vision filled from end to end with a bath of soft blue and red light, a break from the dreary reds of Pride...
Still drunk, Alastor nearly stumbled before catching himself by throwing his arms around Vincent's shoulders, closing his eyes and humming along as the instrumental played without missing a beat. It seems he was caught. Drawn in, like a moth to a lamp.
♫♪ "Unforgettable... In every way. And forevermore, That's how you'll stay..." ♪♫
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sugaronthecream) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
divinetree2026-03-08 09:23 pm
no subject
But... it was okay when Al did it, if he's honest. It had a way of making a little somersault in his stomach, which he masked with a mild exasperation whenever the other seemed to whine the pet name during walks home.
When the radio demon leaned expectantly, he moved almost automatically: A claw raised, held just inches from the end of the cigarette, he generated a spark. The heat was a flash, igniting paper and tobacco.
This... just... this. Fresh kills around them, the night being young, or... old, or... whatever- who even CARED?- and sharing a laugh over all the damage they caused, what fun they drummed up today. Sinners always bitched about their struggles down here, but they just didn't think outside the box like the two of them. But Alastor and Vincent-Vox, they were two peas in a pod.
As the soft glow of the lit cigarette added a brief gold across his bangs, the red of his eyes, Vox found himself slouching a little further. His smile turned lopsided as he regarded the other man with a coy cant of his head. He was exactly where he wanted to be, didn't know where he'd needed to be until nights like these.
He was certain now. He never wanted to stop moments like these.
"...Marry me."
His tone was dreamy, hand propped on the damaged rooftop as he'd leaned closer, thin thread of electricity dancing between his antennae.
1/3
Nobody liked radio silence.
The spark of electricity, the light dancing and darkening his own shadows... Alastor didn't look towards his own shadow, though he could see from the corner of his eye that it was also still giggling with delight, cuddling up against Vincent's shadow as if he could feel it. Him, too, pal... this demon hadn't asked for anything but his company ever since they met. Insisted on showing his progress, showing he didn't need Alastor to do things for him, then would drag him along for drinks.
Alastor was quite sure of it, now... if his afterlife always had nights like this one, then hell really was his personal heaven.
no subject
It caught him off guard. Right as he'd lifted the cigarette to pull another breath from it, he felt something.
You're never fully dressed without a smile, my dear!
Alastor had murdered, danced, endured severe disrespectful actions and words without losing that smile for even a moment. Even in life, he had his face nearly permanently drawn up - his perfect shield, his perfect weapon.
Never in his life or afterlife had Alastor heard those two words from anyone.
Even from between his fingers, the cigarette practically dangling, Vox would see his smile drop... and his eyes widen and shine with a whole flurry of emotions.
no subject
Here, covered in blood, sharing a cigarette... Alastor watched the emotions as they transformed on the screen in front of him, prompting a little giggle. He was taking too long to answer, wasn't he? Heehee. Hehehee...
Drunkenness took away any impulse control left - without a word, Alastor snickered and put his hand on Vox's shoulder before giving him a rough shove, pushing him off the rubble to land on his ass. And before his pal could stand up, even though Alastor was wobbly and drunk, he jumped up to run a distance, only stopping to make sure his Vincent got back up. "MAKE me, pal!"
no subject
But was it something he didn't want, in the grand scheme of things? He'd never married in life. A spouse would be suspicious, need to be silenced if they found the trail of bodies he'd left in his climb to the top. The Whittman line died with him in kind. But to be entwined, his design with theirs, to give himself completely... oh, the idea sounded absolutely wonderful.
Alastor wasn't responding. The smile dropped, if temporarily, and Vox felt his heart shudder, twist and curl inward. He was ready to say he was just kidding or 'woof, what was in those drinks??', do something to salvage the situation and not ruin things permanently--
"Wh-" A hand grabbed, and with an impish snicker, tested his balance. Vox's arms did a brief pinwheel as he toppled off that segment of crumpled roof, butt to the pavement.
MAKE me, pal!
His eyes widened. What... what did that mean? Did he not hear what he'd said? No laugh, no... subject change, or...?
Not helped by the weight of his head, Vox needed to grab a segment of the roof to bring himself upright, but by the time he found his balance upon his shoes, the drunk deer had made some distance.
"Pfft... whaaat, you don't like a possible Alastor Whittman?" Part of his brain screamed a demand of WHATAREYOUDOING, but the rest didn't care as he followed after the other demon, stumbling momentarily as he lost a shoe. He turned back to go get it. Ffffuckin' shoe...
no subject
He laughed, completely unaware just how smitten his expression was.
Vincent knew the demon that Alastor was. Knew every bit of it - the violence, the rage, the murders. And then also saw his favorite things, enjoyed them, shared in them. Some fuzzy, hazy part of his mind was trying to nag at him, remind him to be cautious--!!
...He's the strongest Sinner in Hell. If Vincent fails to meet his standard, he'll just eat him! ♥
"What're you dawdling for? Do you want it or not?"
Chase me.
no subject
He couldn't stop buzzing. If he touched anything, he knew it'd be with a full static charge. The light even flickered a little when he passed under them, struggling from the interference.
"...Ones I'd be glad to- give- my- name- to...!"
Wait, he had something for this. He could catch up if he just tried... tried this thing he learned he could do. Though he stumbled again in his intoxication, he hunched and focused. He dissolved into electricity and made a jump- just a short one- and popped into his physical form before he tried again, and again, and again-
Augh, come on, he could do LONGER jumps yesterday...!
no subject
Alastor liked being chased.
After a bit more teasing and a few more funny little jumps, the Radio Demon's shadow disappeared in the black completely. All to give him the chance, naturally, to emerge right behind Vincent to wrap his arms around the man's chest from behind in a loose embrace.
"Vinny~"
It was the only warning Vincent would get before Al tugged down his sweaty collar and sunk his teeth in. A ring, a proposal all his own - since he didn't have the real thing on him just yet.
no subject
It was like popping free from one's own confines, slipping out of clothes that were perhaps too tight to change, move through the air and pop back in his usual form. Were he not currently pickling his liver, he would have recalled that there were power lines he could jump into and zip to wherever he needed.
After a few jumps, he was short of breath. He needed to practice, toughen up the ability... but where did...?
"...Al?..." Did he leave? He couldn't have run that far ahead already. He sent a ping as he made a few wobbly steps, trying to get a gauge for how close Alastor was.
But arms were already around him, and his heart all but leaped into his throat, but only half from the surprise. "Jesus--ffffFU͗C̝͋̒̌K̲͈̘̟̣̔̐-"
Sparks flew from his antennae as his body jerked, the hard bite catching the yelp and turning it into... a brand new sound, one that elicited a shudder as warm blood flowed.
no subject
Besides! It'd make for a poor ring, more of a circle, hmm?
"Mmmm... Tasty!"
Giggling and bleating a bit, Alastor drunkenly rubbed his cheek against the side of Vox's boxy head, smearing the blood splattered on them even more with the gesture.
"Caught you~. You'll have to try harder than that!"
no subject
"I-it's a work in progress! I'm not shaped like something that can run like hell, you know...!" Could he risk it? Could he just offer the smallest nuzzle back...?
"Er, wait, is- ...is this a yes? Hahaha- I'm a little lost, Al-"
no subject
Naturally, a gentle piano tinked away through Alastor's speakers as he danced, somehow managing not to fall on his ass despite his deep sway.
♪♫ "Unforgettable... that's what you are~
Unforgettable... though near or far!" ♫♪
It's not an answer... it's just Nat Cole. But in this moment, under the harsh red moonlight, still bloodspattered - it felt right. This was the perfect moment for it.
♪♫ "Like a song of love that clings to me,
how the thought of you does things to me.
Never before has someone been more~" ♫♪
no subject
♫♪ Unforgettable ♪♫
♫♪ In every way... ♪♫
Low and soft, powered by the burn of liquor in the belly. Could he... could they... touch a little more? Foreheads. Foreheads should be okay...
♫♪ And forevermore ♪♫
♫♪ That's how you'll stay... ♪♫
If only he hadn't slipped and said what he'd said now, rather than plan things out. He had the money... a little. He could buy a nice ring. Nice-ish. Maybe get something far nicer if he just worked a bit harder, sold a few things he owned...
He deserved it. He deserved everything.
no subject
That someone so unforgettable
Thinks that I am unforgettable, too..." ♪♫
Alastor chuckled at the light snap of static and the way his hair frizzed up. It always made him laugh. Being this close, head swimming and vision filled from end to end with a bath of soft blue and red light, a break from the dreary reds of Pride...
Still drunk, Alastor nearly stumbled before catching himself by throwing his arms around Vincent's shoulders, closing his eyes and humming along as the instrumental played without missing a beat. It seems he was caught. Drawn in, like a moth to a lamp.
♫♪ "Unforgettable...
In every way.
And forevermore,
That's how you'll stay..." ♪♫