#questionablemuses

Vox was still in a state of shock. They had fights before, yes, but never this bad? To the point where Valentino had put cracks through his screen. He had yet to even make the move to upgrade. Vox was trying so hard not to believe it. He loved him, didn't he? What the fuck? "Get me the strongest drink you can make. Pronto." ( can be wherever! & surprise me with the muse! ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Alastor meandering about the television’s room is not an uncommon occurrence. The deer slipping in and out of the shadows of Vox’s life with such nonchalance ( and consistency ) that it doesn’t cause the other to so much as bat an eye nowadays. What’s most unusual about the interaction is the blunt command… as well as the maze of cracks upon the other Overlord’s screen. But Alastor only draws attention to one at first.

❝ ❛ Pronto? ❜ I see someone has forgotten their manners. ❞ Gently chiding with a hum, there’s no malice behind the calm words. Nothing but a quirk of his brow and a twitch of his closed smile betrays his true thoughts, ears still as statues despite the indignant rage boiling within. Smoothly turning to the others bar, tense air is prodded by the soft clinking of glass and pouring of liquid. Rather than complete the request for the ❛ strongest ❜ drink he could make— Alastor knows some combinations that could kill a soul twice —he instead goes for something more personable. Figuring that more comfort could be found in the familiar rather than trying to force forgetfulness.

❝ Here you are, my dear. ❞ Handing over the drink, he sits down beside the fellow Overlord with a soft hum. Keeping a fair bit of distance between the two; not wanting Vox to feel suffocated or any more on-edge than he must already. He's unfortunately familiar with seeing someone in shambles after a... disagreement. That's what his father preferred to refer to them as. Every blow against his mother of her doing, according to the skewed logic where it was capable to earn harm from one's loved one. Too tender as that term feels for someone who would DO such a thing.

@questionablemuses shrieked : //Moxxie is looking respectfully u-u

@questionablemuses ○ 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝 𝕒𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕦𝕤𝕜 ○

          ⤷  『  When Husk finally texted him from out of the blue, Angel couldn't help himself. Near immediately, he's in a suggestive pose & blowing a kiss at his screen before snapping a photo. With the caption; "Thinking of you, fluff butt~" Added a sparkling heart for added effect before sending the text.  』

When Angel had come by, given him his number and cleared out of the place, clearly stressed and tight-lipped, he'd made everyone worry, Husk included. Charlie had been beside herself even, no one knew why Angel was leaving and the arachnid likely wasn't in a position to actually tell them. It made him feel surprisingly powerless, all things considered. It's been a while since he felt that way.

That's not to say it isn't his baseline, having lost his autonomy to that ominously smirking bastard, but when that kind of thing is your baseline and yet you still feel it hit you… That's just a whole new kinda low, innit?

Little surprise he'd hit the bottle harder than usual that evening.

Now Alastor looks like he knows something they don't, but he'd being equally tight-lipped for hell knows what reason and Husk had after a day or so, delayed by Charlie's self-flagellating dramatics, gone and picked up a phone for himself. Not the kinda thing that tended to run for very long around a demon like Alastor considering they didn't really make your basic-ass flip phones anymore, which made this even more difficult than it needed to be. He'd tried trimming the claws before, it didn't fucking work. Rather said, that shit hurt.

So he finally gets the damn thing sent off, sat for once in his room rather than behind the bar, enjoying some privacy when he gets a text back what feels like mere moments later, except—

A glass flies across the room then, smashing noisily against the wall. He'd had everyone going crazy with worry, even the damn fucking snake, and this is what he gets back?!

"Fine, go fuck yourself, see if I care!"

Unfortunately, he does. And now he needs to go fetch a new glass…

@questionablemuses

"Disappointed  but  not  surprised." 

Mammon was still dealing with the after math of his last clown pagent yeah sure he gained a brand new act. And he'll they proved him wrong on not finding women funny so good for them plus a twin act? Was hot and easy to sell.

But losing Fizz? And in the way he had? That had taken quite. A hit to him so who better to visit and cheer up with then his old flame Adam?

"God, I hate what you fucking do to me."

"Sure ya do babe ain't thst way your eyes just sparkle the second you seem me come to visit you" He teases as he blows a little kiss Adam's way he always ate up thier reactions to his advances. He wasn't some.idiot he knew the Angel still had feelings for him even to this day.

"Every fucking time I try to block you from my mind, I end up chasing after you. Did you know that? That you have that much affect on me?"

"Aww come on you making it sound like a bad thing that you still got the hots for all of this" He says as he gestures to himself. As he flashes Adam wide smug filled grin. Moving over to them as he bays his eyes at the Angel. "You know you want me and I know you want me so why we fooling anyone. Only one who wanna act like that ain't ture is you Adam~ and ya know it's cute but gotta be so hard to deny yourself having me ain't it?" Mammon eggs on he knows jsut how to push his ex buttons how to mess with them and get under thier skin.

@questionablemuses sent: He's just going to flop himself across Alastor's lap purely by coincidence & convenience. "You're my pillow now. Deal with it, cause I'm not moving." ( -shoves a random Vox for Alastor for annoyance- c: )

Alastor visibly startles at the sudden, more than unexpected weight that drops on his legs. The rest of the residents are out, pursuing Charlie's latest activity, so he had decided to take a seat in one of the lounging rooms, alone with a mug of coffee and the daily newspaper. Quiet time is hard to come by these days and, while he thoroughly appreciates the entertainment, at times he still needs his moments of peace and solitude.

Pity that his plans have been ruined before he could even get properly comfortable in his spot.

What the fuck......?

"...Vox?!"

The name leaves his mouth in the same way one would help after they have accidentally stepped on something disgusting, a mixture of stunned horror and rising annoyance.

What in the Seven Rings was that idiot doing at the Hotel? His self-appointed rival is the last person he would expect to see inside those walls, or even anywhere near the building.

Vox should be very much grateful for his shock, because it's the only thing that has kept the Radio Demon from tearing him into shreds the moment their bodies have touched.

"͓̽W͓͓̽̽h͓̽a͓͓̽̽t͓̽ ͓̽d͓͓̽̽o͓̽ ͓̽y͓͓̽̽o͓͓̽̽u͓̽ ͓̽t͓͓̽̽h͓͓̽̽i͓͓̽̽n͓͓̽̽k͓̽ ͓̽y͓͓̽̽o͓͓̽̽u͓̽'͓̽r͓͓̽̽e͓̽ ͓̽d͓͓̽̽o͓͓̽̽i͓͓̽̽n͓͓̽̽g͓̽, ͓̽o͓͓̽̽l͓͓̽̽d͓̽ ͓̽p͓̽a͓͓̽̽l͓̽ ?" He asks, static already starting to distort his voice.

A clawed hand raises, but Alastor finds himself posing for an additional moment before he can push the other Overlord off. Vox looks...odd. His limbs are a little too relaxed, his screen keeps wobbling lightly from side to side and he can see little glitching spots popping up at random. Not to mention the stupid, half lost look on his face.

Was the brainless bunch of circuits intoxicated? That would explain his boldness. Nonetheless, it doesn't make the whole situation even more unpleasant to deal with.

The static grows louder as shadows pool all around Alastor, shaping into thick, eerie tentacles. They roughly grip at Vox's limbs and middle, carelessly ripping him out of his chosen spot. The other Overlord would find himself on the floor, but not before one of the appendages has smacked him hard across his screen. Not violently enough to break it, but almost.

An obvious warning.

Have a Vox who's still feeling the stress of that night. He's long since fixed his screen, but he's been keeping his distance, only showing up when Velvette asks him to, but he hasn't said a word to Valentino. Aside from confused, stolen glances. He wants so badly to ask if they were okay, but he doesn't. Instead, he bites his tongue & immediately busies himself with his phone as he sits down on the sofa. ( - For Valentino :'3 I couldn't not. u_u ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Ever since Valentino was pushed a bit too far— resulting in a cracked screen; which had promptly put an END to the whole ordeal —his lover has been avoiding him like the plague. It's as frustrating as it is utterly PATHETIC, Valentino's patience wearing thin with every purposeful look away from his direction. Being ignored has always rubbed Val the wrong way. Even more-so when it's by someone he's grown accustomed to attention from... He had thought Vox needed cared for him more than this. But if one measly little argument is enough to make the other Overlord skittish, perhaps he'd overestimated Vox's obsession devotion.

The only silver lining to this mess is, ironically, Vox's nervous behavior proving that— should things get back on track —the Television will be more careful in the future. It's much easier to train someone who doesn't instinctively fight against being punished. But rather, tries to AVOID it. But first, Vox will have to regain some of that attractive confidence he flaunts around in public, and work up enough nerve to actually TALK to his estranged partner. Before it becomes too difficult for Valentino to repress the outburst boiling beneath the surface. Kept at bay by tearing apart a few unimportant employees before retreating to his room in a huff.

Speak of the cowardly devil...

Not sparing Vox so much as a glance when he enters the room, Val's gaze remains riveted on his phone screen. Lazily scrolling but not actually reading any of it, he waits a few minutes to see if the other man will break the tense air. When that doesn't seem likely, Valentino takes matters into his own hands. Voice is quiet, slicing into the silence in a ❛ disappointed ❜ growl, ❝ So... You're just going to keep ignoring me, then? ❞ Cheek propped up in his fist, thumb rhythmically scrolls, the light of his screen reflecting in his glasses. ❝ I thought I mattered to you— ❞

"No one can know about this." ( VoxAngel ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 One doesn't work in as close proximity with Valentino as he does without becoming familiar with the other Vees. But though he may know of and even a bit more about them than their ❛ perfect ❜ public personas show— mainly the less savory aspects of how they run their operation; Angel having a front-row seat to the fuckery and corruption rampant within the gleaming towers —doesn't mean he's had much personal experience with them... and NEVER without the accompaniment of Val. Acting more as an accessory or tool to tote around than a person.

Sure, he's tried on outfits for Velvette at the moth's request or been the test subject of scents meant to ❛ entice ❜ and corrupt... and he's taken note of the cameras Vox has scattered about the place, knowing NOTHING escapes the Television's watchful eye. Learning the hard way during his earlier years working at the studio. Needing to be occasionally reminded when he gets a bit too spirited. But despite this unspoken... tension between the two, Angel had assumed he and Vox were on amicable terms. In a ❛ neither of us want the other around but we have to grin and bear it because of Val ❜ sort of way. It's not as if either of them could DO much about it.

If Vox could have gotten rid of him, Angel doesn't doubt it would have happened by now... Which is why he's taken off-guard at the abrupt summons to the Television's room. Maybe that clever bastard finally found a way. If there's one thing he knows about the Vees, it's never good to get called for a private meeting. If there's one thing he knows about Val, it's never good to do anything without his explicit permission. Forced into BOTH on Vox's whim, all Angel can do is grit his teeth, straighten his spine— fluff his chest for good measure before entering the room —and bear it. Thrust into yet another dangerous situation by an Overlord and this one doesn't even technically hold his leash... but he may as well with the power he wields.

❝ Mista' Vox, please... Yer speakin' ta a professional. My lips are sealed~ ❞ With a zipping motion over his mouth, Angel takes an offered seat with an overflowing bluff of confidence. Ignoring the dread sinking in his stomach, he crosses one leg over the other— instinctively letting his skirt ride up his thigh a bit —and rests his lower hands on his knee. Despite knowing he has NO control in the situation, Angel refuses to show it. Vox is like those sharks he loves so much... Can't let him smell blood in the water. ❝ 'Specially when it comes ta Daddy Val. I'm sure I don' need ta tell you how much he hates otha' people messin' wit' his things... ❞

A subtle prod, testing the currents to see how Vox reacts to mention of Valentino. Wondering if it's necessary to remind the Overlord that as the moth's Top Bitch, he should be somewhat protected... Right? Leisurely picking some lint off his shirt, dainty fingers purposely draw attention to the fluffy cleavage spilling over. When in doubt, show off the merchandise and hope it throws Vox off his game. Suave as the Television may try to be, he's made of flesh and blood— or circuitry and whatever-the-fuck-else —and untamable emotions like anyone else.