ꂵꍏꀸꍟ ꎇꂦꋪ ꋪꍏꀸꀤꂦ

"That sounds like a marvelous time! A place that has drinks, music and dancing? That sounds like my kind of place." He was actually delighted by his suggestion. Although hesitant to go near the Entertainment District mostly because of a certain someone who would be watching their every move. But that was neither here nor there. "And since you're the one mentioning it, I can trust that it is a tasteful location not yet riddled with that nonsensical noise of the modern era and their idea of music." He gave a little wave of his hand as if dismissing the very idea of bars or night clubs. Both of which he found to be obnoxious. "Why don't you lead the way?"

"Of course not!" He was almost offended. The Entertainment District was multifaceted, even while dangerously close to Vox's territory, the themed bars were some of the best in Pentagram City. And the Radio Demon held no fear into frequenting them, regardless of their falling out. Watch all you want, Vox, he was going to go wherever he wanted to go. And take his new friend with him.

“Wonderful! I’m pleased to come across someone with good tastes then. I’m sure you know just how difficult that can be. Good company or at least those worth anything, can be difficult to find.” He hummed with approval. 

Alastor didn’t fully doubt that this one would take him anywhere unsavory. Based on his suggestion anyway. It seemed that they even shared in common some of their hobbies. A bonus, they were leaving the hotel as well. Something that Alastor felt he needed a break from every now and then. Hanging around the residents could be a bit taxing sometimes on his nerves. Especially with the optimism that Charlie tried to spread around and how some of her friends went along with it. It was as annoying as it was amusing to watch them fail. 

Needless to say, he was glad to walk along with him. Alastor didn’t particularly care if Vox saw that there were two of them or not. In his mind it was just another thing that would make him squirm. Oh he was certain that if he were to watch, he would lose his mind over the idea of having to deal with them both. In fact, the idea amused him so much that it put him in an even better mood. Leading The Radio Demon to quietly hum to himself as he walked along with his new company. 

The layers of manipulation, both intentional and percieved, leave him constantly guessing about both Alastor’s own motives and nature as a person; everything points to something unsavory, only for actions like this to happen that beckon him closer for further inspection, tangling himself evermore to the web the overlord weaved.

“…Initially or currently…?” Because it’s fundementally changed since that fateful first impression. Lucifer decides to speak more presently, since it was both within the lines of the question and more pleasant to these equally prideful ears. “…I’m grateful that you are, actually, even if I can’t settle on how to feel about you personally. You’re fastidious and organized — honestly it’s grown clear that this Hotel depends on you to run smoothly, if at all, from how meticulously you maintain it. Sure, perhaps your interpersonal communication needs a little work, since you either frighten the piss out of people or make them want to punch you in the throat. Definitely going to test the limits of how desparately they want to redeem themselves… but if they can’t handle people that get under their skin with grace and dignity, they won’t be going anywhere at all.”

Amusement picks up in his gaze to his answer. He loves what he hears from him. By the sounds of the way he indirectly compliments him, it looks as though he was beginning to get under his skin. In just the way that Alastor hoped he would. Lucifer would  be easier to get to and control than he thought he might be. And it was curious that so little was all it took to make it happen. Some attention, it seemed. Had he truly been so terribly lonely that he would cling to the first person who paid him any mind? Alastor seemed to think so. And the fact that he could have the little devil sitting here telling him that he ran the hotel well after harshly criticizing him before was a small victory. 

So he would take what he said and keep it in mind. To show that he was pleased with all the praise, he hummed in response. His grin became a closed-lipped smile. It would be acceptable for now. Maybe that would be a question that he would have to ask him again at a later date. Although maybe not in the same manner. Alastor did not want him to catch on that he was trying to gauge how far he had gotten into his head. Best to make it seem innocent and allow him to think what he wanted. That way he could continue on as he wished without being found out that it was all just a game to him. Something for him to eat up. 

“That’s an acceptable answer. I suppose one’s first impression doesn’t have to be too lasting. It does surprise me to hear you say you appreciate the work I do here, so I will allow the comment on my social skills slide. It’s a choice that I keep to myself, unless it’s necessary to do otherwise.” 

"Host, actually. And is that really all that you do? Could have fooled me with the way things go. Doesn't seem like many are aware that we even have a king to begin with." He lifted a brow while he stood by, watching him. It was meant for light conversation. But of course there were insulting undertones to the thigns he was saying. Because Alastor was purposely bringing this all up just to get under his skin. Why? Mostly because it amused him. There was no other reason behind it other than the fact that he knew he could get under his skin. It was just something that he had done ever since he had arrived to the hotel. And if he was all this important and everything, why bother with the hotel at all?

"Seems silly that you would bother with this place if you had so much going on already, doesn't it?"

“I am not just the King of Pride, there are six other rings to manage too. I am aware that the newest denizens aren’t all that familiar with me, and that more than half of the current Overlord roster are unnotarized from usurping their positions rather than being appointed Overseers. Yourself included.”

Pointed? Maybe. He felt it necessary to make a little dig of his own — but trying to at least keep the veneer of civility since Alastor hadn’t directly crossed the line. Lucifer wouldn’t let the man’s poor choice of words get to him. At least, not get to him enough that he acted out again like the first time they met. He was trying to be socialable here.

“Only if you weren’t looking at the bigger picture. And if you are unable to see it for yourself, perhaps you might have bitten off more than you can chew with the notable positions you’ve taken on both here and at the hellish round table of Pride.” Only slightly obfuscating. If anything, his appearance at the Hotel and Charlie’s attempts to commune with Heaven coincided with his current duties; while he had been out of the spotlight for the sinners in last two centuries and some change… now, it was time for him to step forward in Lilith’s abscence, and reassert some manner of control. Some unity.

“Hah! Now that is hilarious! Taken more than I can chew?” Alastor gave his head a tilt. His everlasting grin only widening across his face, spreading thin. Too thin. His comment had more or less frustrated him. “If you feel that might be the case, then you grossly underestimate me, Your Majesty. Or perhaps you’ve been so absent you aren’t familiar with all of those you should be ruling over?” 

He wasn’t stupid to the little dig that Lucifer had made at him. Even if he had been trying to make it seem like a civil conversation. When it came to word play, Alastor was one of the best. At least in his own mind he was. He could insult someone without it so much as being able to be pinned as an insult. This was just another case of that. While his tone was mildly condescending as he spoke. He had kept his speech light and less harsh. That way it avoided being seen as anything other than him simply having a conversation with him. Even if that conversation could be considered just a touch heated. 

“I would suggest that perhaps you do make the time to understand and learn more about your people. Maybe, starting with the ones residing in this hotel. Especially since you have so graciously decided to step back into the spotlight after so long. I’m certain that doing so may be an enlightening experience for you.” 

❅ Whether or not his death had been dignifying was up for debate. Many would argue it was cruel, tragic even for those with a bleeding heart. But Hoarfrost thought of it as romantic, in a way. " When I think... about how I... died... i am.. happy. It was.... so... romantic.. I can still... taste the... water...."

The ice in his chest contributed to that. The smell of the water sometimes burned the inside of his nose and back of his throat.

To hear Alastor say he didn't seem like he belonged in hell was a new one. It almost seemed very kind of him to say. By no means did Hoarfrost seem like the type of person to be horribly violent, but he was. His shy personality and soft features, being very approachable, painted him as some kind of innocent.

That was far from the truth though.

"Is that so? How interesting, I definitely wouldn't have guessed. I suppose that's something you use to your advantage?"

Now this was an interesting development, indeed. He was capable of killing others. Something that he was curious about. What were his tactics? The motive? It sounded as though he intended to keep someone close to him whether they wanted to be or not. A fun scenario.

A trait that he could use for himself. Alastor was getting the idea that if he could talk him into wanting to stay close to him, then he could possibly use that to his advantage. Without even having to lift a finger of his own. Would this one serve as someone who would kill for him if he desired it so? Maybe. Or if anything else, maybe someone who would die for him?

If he was as soft as he seemed, he didn't think that convincing him he has his best interest would be too difficult. Alastor felt that all he needed to do was show a tad bit of interest and maybe acts of kindness to keep his attention.

Where he stood , he watched with a trace of indulgence . Smooth words falling from delicate lips pulled into that dark smile , which he listened to patiently with unblinking eyes . It was a familiar spiel , something he'd heard before although in different wording . Although he'd yet to hear someone ask for power after death . That was a new one , and it would be interesting to conduct . Fingers tapped at the apple of his scepter , humming thoughtfully as the other finished .

 “ What do I get out of this deal , if I may ask ? ”

Tilting his head , he considered the others request . He wouldn't go through with something like this for free . Keeping the law off the others back would be easy , humans were effortlessly manipulated , but providing his power so the other could continue to hold his own in hell would be trickier than he'd say . He wasn't used to offering such a thing to sinners . Holy power would be a volatile element to introduce to a demon , he could very well invertedly destroy him if he wasn't careful .

It would take finesse . It would take work , if the other managed to convince him this was worth it . He sighed at the idea , brow furrowing and expression set into something hard .

“ I would ensure that you're allowed to continue in your activities up here , as much as I detest the thought , and that when you die you don't start off on such little footing , which would require a conduit of power — my power . But you've yet to offer me a thing in return . ”

He stepped forward , staff canting into his palm , where he grasped it and brought it up . The glittering ornament pushing against the others chin , forcing the others jaw up and his throat exposed . Burning slitted eyes watching with a careful , predatory interest , wings fluttering gently in wait behind him . He could tell the other was smart , knowledgeable of the dark arts , and dangerous too . He wondered briefly if it would be safer to kill him before any deal took place , bring him down to hell and let him scramble by himself for a good while . Something about that thought surely shined in his expression , the consideration of violence .

Alastor has made a risky choice , bringing the serpent into his home .

“ Many mortals have been in your spot , but not many have managed to reach me directly . I wouldn't normally deal with such requests . The ritual you've performed tonight is impressive , and perhaps it's given you a bit of an advantage . Lucky you , hm ? ”

He chuckled , amusement lacing his voice at the thought of someone having any human having an advantage against him . He couldn't take the situation seriously , not really . Even with the blood at his feet , the others convincing attempts .

“ Tell me , what are you willing to give me ? ”

Alastor tilted his chin upward at the touch of the end of that scepter. Although his confident expression remained unchanged. Whether he was crazy or arrogant to stand so proudly before him was a good question. Maybe it was a mix of both. Years of cruelty and torture corrupting his mind into something dark and twisted. And trauma convincing him that the only one worth looking after was himself.

He did have to admit, he was aware he was asking for something at a high risk. He knew it was possible that the being before him could very well destroy him easily. If this were to be the King of Hell, then he was likely at the top of the food chain. And one couldnt have asked for someone better than that to be called here foe his purpose. As for what he could offer him?

The only things he could offer him, naturally. Souls. His own for certain. Alastor was no fool in knowing that something like this woukd cost him that much. Making deals with demons was a given. But what if he could do better than that? Offer him more than just his own soul as something of a promise and a sacrifice to this being. It would be easy for him to do. To continue as he did best. Immunity to being caught and power in the afterlife and in return- Alastor would kill for him. In his name. Send those to Hell for him. Likely giving them a much crueler fate than they were already headed for.

"How about I offer you this - in exchange for all that I am asking, I will not only offer you my soul once I pass, but I wouldn't mind to send those to the afterlife for you. That is - in your name."

He was well aware that he was meant for Hell. There was no way around that. And truthfully, this was a fate that Alastor had accepted. He didn't care to get into Heaven. Fundamentally, murder was a sin. Worse even, at the fact that Alastor enjoyed it. He enjoyed watching others suffer and desperately hang onto what little life they had left as it was slowly taken from them. Their screams like a symphony to him. Well deserved and amusing.

He felt no remorse for the lives he took. And he never would. Which meant that of course he would never ask to be forgiven for those sins. Naturally, selling his soul meant very little to him. At least it did in that moment. In truth, Alastor did not really understand the weight of this in Hell. The fact that he would be able to be used to his whim regardless of what it was that he wanted to do.

His only understanding was that there was likely to be some sort of gap in power to demons in Hell. And he has no interest in struggling to grasp it. As he believed himself to be better than the fodder that he sent to Hell in the first place.

✧♡ - Rose listened to everything he had to say. He claimed to have no idea who she was talking about, that people changed when they came down here. Hell? She blinked at him. " Father would never go to... that bad word. He's the best father ever, so he really can't be here then..." Darn, she thought she had found another place to search and try to find him. But if they were in the bad place then she was certain that he couldn't be here! It was something she just couldn't fathom being possible.

The girl started walking after him, taking a few extra steps to be able to keep up with the taller individual. " Mr. Alastor, I hope this isn't strange to ask but have we met before? " She couldn't shake the feeling that at some point, in some way, they had met but she had no memories of him at all.

And how was she to know that the deal her father made with Alastor was part of the reason she existed at all.

" But then you don't remember me do you? Maybe I am being silly..." Perhaps she saw someone like him in a dream at some point. " Father did say I had a big imagination, I used to fall asleep with the radio playing..." It was entirely possible to her that maybe she had dreamt something up that was similar to him. Maybe even, he just reminded her of her old radio she had when she was alive.

" I could go back to Heaven the way I entered though, right? Surely the way back is still there? "

He stopped dead in his tracks to her question. Ears forward at alert. How was it possible that she could have recognized him? Alastor had a presence around Vox when he had been alive. Naturally, he had contracted himself to Alastor. All for the sake of keeping her alive. A futile effort in the end. Although it had not been in his contract to prevent that from happening, either.

Alastor turned to look over his shoulder at the child angel. Deciding not to frighten her with a twist of his head around. "Observant, aren't we? It does tickle me that you enjoyed listening to the radio. An active imagination is nothing to be ashamed of."

Was he confirming that she had known him? Not necessarily, but he wasnt denying it either. His meaning could be left to interpretation as always. Alastor was not in the business of hiding who he was. He'd only cover Vox for his sake. And really, no other reason. Selfish maybe, but he wanted to keep Vox to himself. And she was so innocent, it would be cruel of him to subject a child to that sort of madness.

"I can't say I understand much of that, as far as how you arrived here. However, I may know of someone who can assist. But first lets get you settled in somewhere comfortable. Now, come along."

Then he was walking again, looking forward. His intent was to get her settled into his radio tower first. And then he had every intention on finding either Charlier or - worst case scenario, that annoying little man who had insisted on staying at the hotel. Lucifer. Those were the only two he knew capable of contacting Heaven.

As she flushed the toilet, Dove slowly got to her feet, washing her hands as he spoke of tea to soothe her stomach.

Well, tea wouldn't help with this situation.

With a soft sigh, she cracked the door open, a weak smile on her face as she saw his signature grin, "Well, it's good to see you checking up on me. But I don't think mint tea can fix my current state..."

Her heart bearing in her chest, she continued, "You recalled when I helped you with your rut? Well..."

His ears perked to her words, standing straight up. That smile of his stretched then almost impossibly wide for his face. Had he heard her correctly? And if so, he wondered how that might be possible. While he recalled the encounter during a curse of primal instincts he had been plagued with, such consequences had never occurred to him.

Then again, she wasnt fully demon, was she? And he supposed it had been possible for Charlie to have been conceived as the hellborn that she was. Which now played the question as to how he would handle this?

Alastor never saw himself becoming a parent. Truthfully not even a relationship interested him too much. He was much too self absorbed to really get himself involved deeply with someone else unless he could somehow manipulate them. Not to mention he saw it as a sort of a weakness to be vulnerable to someone else on such a deep level. And he refused to make that mistake. Not after he witnessed what it could do to someone.

"I commend you for reading my mind."

To haunt the residents with their presence in tandem might have been just a bit too much for a normal day. He would keep that one tucked into his back pocket for a special occasion, to further annoy and offer himself as an unwanted pest. It was no less than the other residents deserved, anyway, even on a good day.

Trailing after the other with some intrigue, Hartfelt seemed entirely casual as he plucked through a few questions he might have had to ask his doppelganger. None entirely too pressing - he enjoyed seeing where they differed for purposes of advantage.

He did not trust someone who was effectively himself any more than anyone else until proven otherwise.

"No doubt we will make some sort of commotion among the regular citizens. But I have the most interest in tormenting that rather annoying picture box who insists on spying whenever I go about my business."

It seemed petty but he could care less. The idea of causing Vox any kind of suffering as amusing for him. It was always hilarious to watch how he struggled to catch up to him. Desperate for attention. Always stooping to asking for others for help.

Pathetic in his mind. Funnier that he still had some kind of effect on him after all these years. Alastor enjoyed making someone else squirm and suffer. No matter who it was. Watching them fail was even better for him.

Then there was Rosie. The demon who had his soul. What would she do if she heard there were two of them, he wondered. Just as he wondered who owned this ones soul or if anyone did. Perhaps that could be valuable to him in some way.

-- He deserved this. It was the one thought that had played through his mind on repeat since the moment he first awakened in Hell, coming to terms with the demon that he had become. He did. It was the inescapable truth. Every flirty smile to a would-be victim, every gory mess he cleaned up after one of Santiago's profane 'rituals' had damned him to this place long before he ever took razor to wrist. He was right where he belonged. And for those first eight years, he'd learned to make a grim sort of peace with that fact. After all, away from Santiago, he was free to go back to exploring who he could be on his own once more. He'd even found the passion to get back into the music scene and pursue the sort of loftier dreams that had fallen so quickly by the wayside at Santiago's captivating entry into his life. Even in death, he could capture a glimpse of the person he could have been had he made different choices. It was hollow, but it was enough. Besides ... if his music could help other sinners feel like they were cheating their eternal punishment, even if for just one small moment, it gave his unlife some sort of meaning. Perhaps even something resembling redemption. But that wouldn't last--couldn't last. As potent as Santiago's evil was, it couldn't defeat death. And with the atrocities that he had committed throughout his mortal life, there was no room to wonder where a soul that wicked would end up. Twisted as his form had become, Rio would recognize Santiago anywhere. And, much to his chagrin, it would seem that the opposite was true when his former lover awaited him after one of his performances. "Rrrrrrrrraymonnnnnnnd..." There was always something so sultry yet sinister about the way his name rolled off that man's silvered tongue in that cruel sing-song voice. Even now, when it was the thinnest drape of velvet over the razor-sharp edge of such barely-restrained rage. He remembered all too well what that anger sounded like. It had just never been directed at him until that moment. So much of that terrible night was better left forgotten--or, at least, Rio had done his best to. There was only so much that booze and revelry could bury. It was a harsh and brutal way to learn his next lesson about Hell. Second death was a fleeting thing--inevitably, his demonic flesh would reform and spawn anew someplace else. Which meant that whenever Santiago would find him again ... it would never end. He would die a thousand painful deaths at the claws of the man he had once given up everything for. But it was what he deserved. Perhaps, though ... it didn't have to be that way. He listened and had paid close attention during his time in the Pride Ring thus far and it was enough to know that there were sinners that stood head and shoulders above the rest in terms of power and status. Those who inspired respect and fear in equal measure and who could, for the meager cost of an already-tarnished soul ... grant a measure of that power to those they saw fit to leash. Rio knew what he had to do and what it would cost him--it was a small price to pay to get away from Santiago's ceaseless wrath. He'd never been exactly known for having brilliant ideas, so he was well aware of how stupidly reckless this move was about to be as he stood at the threshold of that odd establishment. Something he could only describe as some sort of Hellish equivalent of a speakeasy. Likely a relic of older times, from sinners who had lived them. Rumors had suggested that the infamous 'Radio Demon' spent time there and it was safer than trying to locate the station from which those terrifying broadcasts originated from. Swallowing a nervous lump in his throat, he stepped inside as he blinked through the haze of tobacco smoke. It was like stepping through a time machine--jaunty piano tunes, polite laughter, a bit of dancing, the clink of glasses, and the murmur of conversations ... it was miles away from the pulsing beats, flashing neon lights, and gyrating bodies of the sorts of places Rio called home.

A little bit of a break, that’s where Alastor had gone that evening. And while he could retire to his tower or bother Husker for something. At the moment, he felt like just reliving some of his older habits. Mostly because he needed some space to himself to mull everything over where he wouldn’t be interrupted by anyone. Besides, places like this reminded him of when he was alive. It was a good break from the scenes of Hell to just relax and take from the stress of everything. Which was why Alastor was here, sitting quietly at the bar, with a glass of whiskey in front of him and a cigarette in the other. Destressing.

Crimson eyes drifted over curiously though to the stranger that had found themselves lumbering into the place. He couldn’t say he recognized this sinner. Most who came here were like himself -regulars. It took a special kind of crowd to appreciate places like this. Some of which being from Cannibal Town, naturally. Others he had become more familiar with seeing. None of which bothered him. Giving him a wide berth, given his reputation. That was just how he liked things anyway. The fear of who he was keeping those away from him unless they were bold or brave enough to try and approach him. Usually a grave mistake. This sinner didn't seem to realize who he was sitting next to, though. With how casually and awkwardly he had seated himself. Not to mention, they didn’t visibly seem like they belonged to this place. A judgement he made, perhaps unfairly based on his appearance. But one that he felt was just enough.

Alastor took a final puff from the lit cigarette he was holding before putting it out. Now tending to the drink in front of him, Lifting the glass to stir up the amber liquid within just a little bit. Nothing but a little swirl of glass with a subtle flick of his wrist. His gaze had flickered back forward, focusing on what he was doing for a second. He could mind his own business. But he was incredibly curious. Who was it that didn’t know about the Radio Demon? Or maybe he did - but didn’t realize who he was. That would be quite interesting. Perhaps he could bleed this one for a bit of information before he decided what he might do.

“Not too often this place sees a new face, you know~” Alastor said almost teasingly. Finally he turned towards him. His smile was ever present, wide and toothy as he set his glass down onto the bar with a soft clink. His ears were forward, alert while those red eyes were half-lidded and filled with amusement. “Care to chat while we drink, friend?”

A splendid display this was! Alastor stood by watching, hands folded behind his back now. The amusement in his eyes not once leaving. All of it being broadcasted live over his radio waves. Every sound, every whimper.. everything. And he loved every moment of it. Even though this was not his kill to take, it was one that he felt was well deserved. This person here within his grasp was certainly someone that in life, Alastor no doubt would have hunted and killed, himself. And Vox was doing just a fine job of finishing what he started on his own. Even if he had never been a killer in his own right. The things that rage and madness could do were simply fascinating!

✧ - It would seem that he had indeed overdone it The cracking in his screen started to spread and his vision in one eye was cloudy. His screen sparked as his head jerked away from Alastor. He reached up with his hands grabbing onto his husband's wrist to pull his hand away, trying to protect him from getting hurt by his face. The screen was cracked and sharp, sparks flying from it.

Even in this maddened state he thought of protecting Alastor instead of salvaging his own body. Fans whirring loudly into a hiss, failing to keep up with his emotions. He had gotten a hold of the man he was haunting and the consequence of finally letting all of his rage out in one glorious burst had taken a toll. Too much of a toll.

" AL̷͖ͥÀ̲S̵̫T̵̻O͕͇ͧR " Voice came through choppy and indistinct. " ₳ Ⱡ ₳ ₴ ₮Ø Ɽ ⱧɆⱠ₱ ₥Ɇ ł ₵₳₦'₮ "

He needed to get out of here. Body was starting to shut down and he needed to move out of his body and into a different device, but here there was no device for him to get to. Alastor knew the way out and with his remaining energy he was pleading with him to get him to a device as soon as possible.

Body twitching and jerking around by his head which was the most damaged of all, one hand holding his screen together, much like someone holding their skin onto their face and another hand still gripped tightly onto Alastor's wrist, having forgotten to let go. Or perhaps he couldn't let go with his fist locked into place tightly there around his husbands slender wrist.

Alastor didn’t seem to mind that his wrist had been grabbed, rough as it was. He kept his gaze on his broken screen. Still quite pleased with his performance he would have to make sure he gave him something for all of this later once he was in better condition. But first thing was first - he needed to get him under repair. As he had stated, he couldn’t have him breaking now. Going just a little bit too far, as amusing as it was to watch. Having him die just wouldn’t do anything for him. So of course, he was going to help him out. Luckily he could do that without getting too close as it seemed to him that Vox didn’t want to due to his condition. Not that he minded too much, but he would respect his wishes. Even if he was confident he couldn’t harm him with the way he was. Sparking and however else or not.

“Very well, calm yourself dear. I’ll take care of everything. Just make sure to hold yourself together until then.”

Allowing him to keep his wrist within his grip, it made it easier for him to bring forth his shadows. Their space quickly darkened as they grew towards them. Encasing and shrouding them in a curtain of darkness. Just before those shadows reached them, forming around them and enveloping the pair within its embrace. Consuming them both until they could both sink into those shadows and leave the space. The mess that had been made in the killing could be dealt with later. Taking care of his condition was at the top of the priority. Besides, Alastor had no real intention of consuming any part of the sinner that had just been torn apart by the both of them. Tortured and then ripped to pieces while he watched with great pleasure. Such a fate was not deserved.

Through the force of his shadow magic, it didn’t take too terribly long to get where they needed to be. Alastor was not well versed in the things that Vox needed in order to sustain himself. Despite having been around him after all this time. The technology he used was still somewhat lost to him. So, he hoped that he was at least gathered enough to help himself. If not, he may have to recruit one of his workers to assist in aiding him to do what he needed to do in order to stabilize himself. He couldn’t say he had seen him this way too often and still it was interesting to see how he managed to keep himself together in such a way. Even if he didn’t understand how all that technology and things worked. Nor did he really care to get too involved in any of it anyway. Maintaining his still old fashioned ways.

Once they were they needed to be, his shadows receded from them and he pulled his wrist from his grasp. Moving to fold his hands behind him instead. Still a pleased smile was left on his features. He did take a step away from him though, in order to allow him the space he might need in order to do whatever it was that he needed. Alastor could dote on him for how well he felt he did a little later. He was a patient man in such circumstances and worked in his favor that the man may not even be aware of how he had earned his affections for the evening simply by killing someone.

“What? You mean you’ve been doing the same job all this time? How long have you been at it? Fifty? A hundred years? And you aren’t completely sick of it yet?" His style of conversation was genuine though often tactless. "In your place I would have eaten my creepy little staff years ago.” Hacker allowed himself a pause as a sudden thought came to him.

In his genius he’d answered his previous question without even meaning to. The Overlord himself had dodged it of course, but wouldn’t anyone in his place? Yes, it had to embarrassing for someone like him to admit aloud that he’d grown absolutely sick of life and perhaps a bit disillusioned with his own identity. When you were known all across Hell by a title like “the Radio Demon”, you couldn’t just go around telling people the very sight of them made you sick.

It was a shame. Terrible shame, Hacker felt. And as much as he loathed participation in these little socials, he couldn’t help admit that one might turn out alright. Yes, he was feeling a spread of warmth in his heart for this poor sap already.

He allowed his thoughts time to marinate without care for social appearances. An observer unfamiliar with his character would have assumed he’d simply got bored with the conversation and had taken to ignoring the Overlord’s existence with the way he adverted his eyes and rested his enormous chin in his hand. This was far from the case, as he demonstrated, coming away from his trance with a knowing, “Oh. I see.”

His glance flitted to Charlie again without him really meaning to. Despite his misanthropic tendencies he was not a heartless man by any means, and now he felt he should really do something. Offer words of encouragement? They would have to be tactfully chosen. Or else it would risk embarrassing him further.

"Hah! Heavens no! I have always enjoyed radio. It was the prime means of entertainment and I'll say it brings something of fond memories." He couldn't help the slight bit of judgement kn hos tone.

Get tired of the thing he loved most? Of the very thing he was known for was a laughable thought. It was the very staple in the way he struck fear into those who knew his name. It meant that he would inflict extreme violence on anyone who crosses him. Ripping their souls to pieces mercilessly in the most horrific ways while he broadcasted it. That frightening reputation though seemed to be lost on the one before him.

It had him chuckle as he took another sip from the tea he had summoned up for himself. Even abilities like this weren't known to other sinners. Alastor had power beyond those of a normal overlord. He was the strongest sinner in Hell. Although the whispers of his mysterious disappearance seven years ago had tarnished his reputation just a hair. Not that he had a problem reminding them of who he was. That was the fun part for him.

"I suppose I can agree to some degree. Although I was quite eager to carry my legacy on into Hell. And I quite enjoy the fact that I'm able to do so more now with my power than I was before." He said this with a little shrug of his shoulders.