RIGHT HERE IN HELL.

@damnedrainbows ⧐ “Hey…” Husk is hiding something behind his back. “I made something really stupid, wanna see it?” UNPROMPTED ASKS.

"...I don't know, do I? How stupid are we talking? Stupid as in irrelevant? Stupid as in a waste of time? You're being very vague."

His head tilts a bit at Husk, only moderately curious.

Vox followed along as quickly as he could, which was an arduous task when he had no body. Not yet, he was just a hopping head, following along after the one person who he just didn’t want to see, and whose existence he’d tried to ignore since he got here.

“So this the kind of duties you’re reduced to here? Just an underappreciated hotelier?” He made a face at some of the decor. “Why’s there so much circus shit? Even your creepy deer skulls are an upgrade to that. It’s tacky as hell here.”

For now.

With the snap of his fingers, one of his small puppets appeared, looming behind the tablet that his former friend was reduced to. It snatched him up with a chitter, holding Vox elevated as if it were a makeshift body. Now he could keep up, and keep up he did.

"Hmph," he could agree with him there. He hated that stupid circus decor. "Lucifer's renovations - had to rebuild it because of the big extermination fight. Why he likes that ridiculous clown nonsense is beyond even me."

As they approached the unused corridor, the tablet of a man felt a shiver deep into his circuits. He looked around, and scowled back at the deer. “This place has like a hundred fucking floors, and there isn’t one available that’s got heating and electricity, and amenities? I find that hard to believe.”

As it turned out, he was only a drink away from becoming a geyser of sadness. His apathy had truthfully only been another ticking time bomb, his mind playing a game of how long he could bear the anguish silently before breaking down.

“What’s the fucking point in it, Charlie?” He sipped his drink, fists drawn into tight balls as he looked away. His eyes heated up, embarrassingly threatening a much worse version of his tear that day. “You talk about this shit like I have any reason left anymore….I don’t!” A manic giggle left him.

“The Vees will never forgive me, don’t wanna talk to me, and I don’t even really have a company now! They were the only things that…” His mouth wobbled.

They were the only thing that really mattered to him, and he realized too late. He made them collateral damage. They’d never forget that he did, and he’d never forget either.

“And the only other person I have any connection to is too fucking infatuated with his new little flea girlfriend to remember I exist most days.” Baxter had talked to him plenty times in the beginning, and then he just seemed to fade into the background when the fish got too busy. Typical.

“How pathetic is that…when the one I’ve got tied to a fishing line doesn’t even stay…” He laughed again, but it was an ugly laugh now. A watery one. He glitched, trying to struggle back the tears.

“Wish the bomb went off, even if I was the only one it took down. Should just try a more direct approach.”

“I don’t…” His voice was weak, quiet, and so defeated. “…I don’t want to do this anymore.”

So she'd been trying to take it slow with Vox. He was a tough nut to crack ; a sad, broken creature with no desire to open up to her, and no reason to. It would take a long time to earn his trust.

A long time, or the right amount of alcohol apparently.

He'd been sitting by himself in one of the lounges when she'd come across him. After pouring herself a tonic water, she'd come to sit with him, a respectable distance away, and try to engage him in conversation. Simple things, checking in, seeing how he was adjusting. The outpour of emotion seemed to come out of nowhere, though clearly it had been building for a long time.

Charlie's eyes grew wide, her brows drawing together in sympathy, heart aching for him. She couldn't help it. No matter what Vox had done, or had tried to do to her, he was still one of her people. It hurt her to see him suffer.

❛❛ Vox . . . ❜❜ she said, tone colored with emotion. Her instinct was to reach out out to him, but she wasn't sure how he would react, so she ended up pressing her hand to her own chest instead. She sighed.

❛❛ You don't know that they won't forgive you. It takes time to heal. To atone. Maybe they just need . . . more time? ❜❜ Her hands folded in her lap as she looked down at them. ❛❛ And I'm sure Baxter doesn't mean to ignore you. Have you tried talking to him? If he knew how you were feeling, maybe he could find the time to spend with you. ❜❜

His last statements had her biting her lip. Charlie scooted just a little bit closer, ducking her head, hoping that he would meet her eyes. ❛❛ The point . . . Vox, the point is that you owe it to yourself. You can't give up now. ❜❜

She sighed again, tipping her head back and casting her gaze up to the ceiling like she could find the answers there. ❛❛ I understand that you're tired. That it can be . . . so hard some days just to keep moving forward. It can seem impossible, pointless. But, ❜❜ her gaze returned to him, ❛❛ there are still people who care about you. There are still things worth living for. ❜❜

He and Alastor always had that in common. Their lips were a lot looser if they were intoxicated. Vox swiped at his screen as his chest shuddered, but he resisted the spasm.

“I don’t think so, Charlie. I don’t think there is any ‘healing’ from what I did. I treated them enough like shit, and then tried to kill them. I mean yeah, I was trying to kill everyone, but…they were part of it.”

He….didn’t even know what he ‘tried’ to do that day. So much of how it ended up was pure impulse and mania. He hadn’t been thinking. Strapping himself to the bomb wasn’t at all premeditated, it just happened. He was going to do it. And he would have taken the Vees and Baxter with him if he did.

“What do I care of the small fry’s new bitch is more important than talking to me? He’s chained to me, the fuck would he want to talk to me…”

He always had some sort of excuse for why no one should want to attach themselves to him….all the while hyping up how amazing he was. It was a front, a lot of it. He always needed to create distance. It was the only way he knew how to have relationships.

He looked up as she got a bit closer, but didn’t seem to recoil at the movement.

He didn't have to call him out like that.

“Punch the wall with your tentacles more like, Ursula. Can you like…go?” He shooed and shoved him with his hand. “You’re ruining the whole new ‘ignore Alastor’ vibe I got going on.”

“BABY SHARK DOOT-“

“FUCK!” In a panic, face flushed an electronic bright blue he just tosses his phone at the wall and doesn’t look at who’s in the foyer with him. “Y-you didn’t hear shit.”

He gave a smirk, then took a deep breath.

“Vox!” Charlie’s voice cut the air, scolding like a disapproving mother. “What have we talked about, with the more healthy outlets to your emotions?” Her almost maternal demeanour contrasted hilariously to Vaggi’s threat.