#voxfisch

That demeanor changes the moment he looks up from the floor, eyes narrowing in confusion at the scene.

『 ..Why.. 』 Or he needs to update his screen's prescription. 『 ..is there more color than usual? 』

"Oh, good you're here." Charlie finished attaching the last sheet to her rather enormous corkboard before turning to face Vox with a calmer smile than she usually wore, her suit jacket hanging off a nearby hook. Working with Vox one on one meant that she could be a bit more relaxed herself despite everything, the princess quietly adjusting the stack of cards she had on the table near her, helpful reminders if Vox had any questions she needed to clarify.

"Sit wherever you want, its just us and nobody is gonna bother us." Charlie gestured to the various chairs: a beanbag, a couch, a stolen (and confiscated) park bench, and a cushion on tbe floor. "I figured after our last talk, I could teach you a bit about gender identity and such. But first I have a very important question."

She whirled on her heel to face him, a gentle yet serious smile on her face.

// in reference to the western pa slang post

Smiiiirk.

"Actin' like a real nebby there, aren't you. Careful, I'm gonna have to redd up before yinz all come into my house like this."

Niffty was doing her usual cleaning of the lobby when she ran into Vox. Despite almost killing them all—or honestly, perhaps because of that—she'd been quite happy with his presence in the hotel from the start. But something was different about him today. She stopped mid-sweep, looking up him and down, and very openly staring at his stomach.

"......." He almost looked pregnant, but that wasn't a thing men could do. Did he just gain a lot of weight? Or was he actually a woman this whole time? That would be embarrassing. But it woudln't be the first time. She thought Angel was a woman until she saw that porn video of him.

『 Well. This is one way to learn I'm not the only invert among us. 』

Og “please do not the cat” under cut

// from the nightmare starters uwu

now playing ... bad dreams, ft. @voxfisch

      huddled at the edge of the mattress, blanket tangled around her legs, she feels more prey animal than person. it takes a few seconds to realise where she is, longer for the question to register. there's concern in there, she can hear it, but she can't take it, not now. not from vox of all people. " how often do you think?! "

      fuck. her head hurts. she feels like she might throw up, heartbeat too fast, breathing still coming too shallow. dizzy confusion of waking up in the dark, convinced, for a moment, she's somewhere else completely. the glow of vox's screen gives a little light to their surroundings but odile's trying not to look at him and she really, really doesn't want him to look at her.

      couldn't he just have stayed asleep? he's managed it every other goddamn time.

      the details are almost gone already, but there's a lingering feeling of being watched that clings like a second skin. whatever—whoever—that gaze belongs to, it wasn't safe.

      she needs to be out of here. kicking off the blankets, she swings her legs over the side and tries to stand up, only to lose her balance the second she does and sit right the hell back down. sure. of course. let's just make this more humiliating, why not? more carefully this time, she lowers herself to the floor, back leaning against the bed, knees tucked to her chest.

Send (🔄) for sender and receiver to swap bodies!

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

@voxfisch (plotted!)

The TV overlord. The one that had blown Heaven’s gates off of their hinges, who had threatened Heaven directly if they did not simply stand down and surrender, the one who had all but explicitly crippled one of the Seraphim. Most of the delegates of Heaven had been baying for blood after all that had transpired, for justice. Lute herself had been especially apoplectic—I was right about them, she’d hissed, wings flared like an angry bird of prey’s, I was right about them, and now you are content to ignore a very real threat to Heaven’s sanctity!

The Speaker had calmly flared her wings, calling for order in the silent way that only she could. I will not ignore it, she had proclaimed, casting her gaze around the hall. He has caused us pain directly. But I sense pain within him as well. Justice solely for the sake of justice is no longer how we should attend to things. If we seek to make up for all of the harm that we have caused in turn, we must reach understanding with the denizens of Hell. We must see their side instead of blindly trusting that ours is the right one. A deep, steadying breath. I seek to find the root of that pain. I will deal with him personally.

The courtroom had exploded into a frenzy of activity, but she had called for silence again. If it is determined that he is still a threat to Heaven in his current state, and that he is not remorseful for his actions, I will deal with him accordingly. But I shall not prove the denizens of Hell right about us by striking him down without assessing the situation in full.

Sera and Emily had given their support--as a part of her had been suspecting they would--but Sera had insisted upon her having a guard in the room with her, which had tickled her to no end. If this 'Vox' earnestly attempted to harm her, she had more than enough power in a single finger tip to annihilate him so thoroughly that someone would be hard-pressed to find molecular evidence of his existence.

If it came to that. She desperately hoped that it would not. She hadn't been lying about seeing the inner pain hiding deep within the TV-headed demon's heart, after all, the aching within his soul that had led to him believing that conquering Heaven would fill it. She wished to understand. She wished to find commonality. And perhaps a one-on-one talk would inspire him to open up more than being surrounded by an entire courtroom, if the recordings of how prickly he'd been during his rally were any indication.

Vinzenz, unfortunately, will get little to no warning before a portal opens and he’s whisked through it by one of the former Exorcists. If he asks, all he’s getting is a terse the Speaker wants a word with you, demon, before he’s deposited in….this. Seems an awfully cozy space for a criminal that’s on trial. Soft amber lighting, cozy chairs, and the Speaker of God herself sitting there with a placid expression as the Exorcist levels her blade at the Overlord. “No funny business, usurper.”

“Thank you, Outilisa. That will be all.” The Exorcist leaves the room to guard the door should Vinzenz earnestly attempt to escape, and the Speaker moves closer in turn, her voice carefully measured. “Vox, I believe they called you. One of the media overlords. Who threatened Heaven directly. Who wounded one of the Seraphim sisters. Who destroyed the sacred heavenly gates.” Her tone is neutral, yet each accusation likely lands with the force of a hammer blow. “Many here have been baying for your blood in recent months. Asking that you be harmed in turn. But that is not how I wish to do things. An eye for an eye will eventually leave the entire world blind, and Heaven itself can be better than that moving forward. So—”

She moves towards one of the larger chairs, sitting and patting a cushion near her. “We shall talk face to face. If, at the end of the conversation, it is determined that you are still a threat to Heaven, then judgment shall be passed from there. But I sincerely hope it will not come to that. Here. Sit. Do you enjoy tea, or shall I fetch other forms of refreshment?”