Alright op im hijacking your post if you donāt mind
Alastor and Vox who have spent their lives in the entertainment industry, an industry notorious for its dehumanization of its performers.
Alastor who spent his existence swathed in shadow. The charming radio host without a face, only accompanied by a voice of gold; a mysterious killer in New Orleans threatening to take in the dead of night; a myth in Pentagram City of a monster who consumes without hesitation or regret. Alastor is taken and perceived as one does the monster of a childrenās cautionary tale. Maybe heās a man, maybe a fraud. Maybe he isnāt even real, just a tale whispered on the streets and breathed into shadows.
Yet if thereās one thing that is to be sure about Alastor, itās that he is a heartless creature. For those able to love would not kill and slaughter, those able to love would not participate in selfish machinations, and those able to love would definitely not run and hide and maim and writhe when met with a raw confession of adoration that confirms his one horror: that those around himāat least, those who matterācare deeply and lovingly about him, because he is not a monster found in the dead of night but because to them he is distinctly and horrifyingly human.
Alastor cannot love. It is simply not within his nature as the Radio Demon. He is not a person who is subjected under torturous and fallible human emotion. He is not a person. He is not a person.
(this is also especially worse if itās interpreted that Alastor believed Vox attempting to usurp his place. Alastor knows the way hell works; everyone does everything they can to earn power, no matter how depraved or heartless the means may be. Itās simply how the world functions, and itās a system he has partaken in as well. So why does it hurt?)
Vox who spent his life placed under spotlights, the star of the show for all to see. Weatherman; news anchor; CEO; martyr; hell, cult leader. He takes every chance he can get to slip himself under those blinding lights and take the full attention of the crowd. He needs to be everything for the people, for what could is he worth if he isnāt? The thing about video is that it is the inherent illusion of proximity. Every television screen calls: trust me! Iām just like you! yet every second is designed, scrutinized, and carefully constructed. There is no way to tell if the person on the screen is being genuine or is a persona imitating authenticity. That is the epitome of Vox, because the truth of Vox as a character is that he is almost always performing a mask.
Vox can be anything for you! Heās your voice, your brave leader to take the march when no one will, the speaker for the massesāthe voice of the people and therefore the voice of god. He can be everything you need him to be. Heās better than any what any other performer, no, person can provide. Heās there to guide you, comfort you. Heās your saviorāreaching down with a hand outstretched and a silhouette bathed in light.
Heās not human, because to be human is to be fallible, and that simply isnāt within Voxās nature. Because he is better than that, and no one else can compare.
And what is left under all else, under the egotism and schemes and arrogance and violent bravado are two men scared out of their minds from their first taste of real recognition for what they truly are: frauds dressed in silk.
