Jumps on here to yell that every time there's Dash Commentary Tom and Katie are reporting live and letting all of hell know π€π€π€π€π€π€
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@trencast
Jumps on here to yell that every time there's Dash Commentary Tom and Katie are reporting live and letting all of hell know π€π€π€π€π€π€

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Leaves this here for something to get back to when I have the muse.
Tom's Wall of Text.
"Morning After"
I had to
π’ Satan isn't fully awake by the time Tom might be, but that hasn't stopped him from snuggling in closer. Tom is kind of wedged into (and maybe crushed under) those massive pecs... But at least it's warm!!
6am. You know what that means? He's waking up as usual, beginning to stir. However, when he goes to move, he's smacking headfirst into the wall of flesh he's in between right now. A slight grunt leaves him as he figures it's just his wall, not someone on top of him, but when he keeps trying to move, things get complicated. "C'mon. . "
He states, just trying to move without realizing, but then he sort of lies there for a moment. His eyes are closing a little more, until his phone, somewhere in the room, starts blaring his alarm. He jolts up once more, hitting the "wall," as he groans out loudly in pain this time.
"Shit! What the hell did I drink last night? I just need my phone." Still blissfully unaware of who he's with. Better wake up now Satan, before his phone gets louder.
if he's honest, he sort of likes perverted little freaks. it's low-hanging fruit, sureββ to someone like valentino, they all are. but there's something to be said about their eagerness to please [ there's my little ' how high ' !! ] && how they fall into his arms without question. his inviting trench out tonight wasn't out of charity. nor is their working relationship a coincidence.
the much smaller demon climbs into his lap voluntarily, which pleases the overlord, though valentino doesn't yet reach down to touch him.
β you seem tense, β val leans to speak directly into @trencast 's ear, his voice raised in order to be discernible from the volume of the club. β you don't get out much, do you ? β && when he laughs at you, it's with a cruel fondness. the kind that says you're pathetic, but he's kind of into that. / continued.
This is the last thing he wanted. To be so close to someone like this, let alone Valentino himself. He wasn't blind to how the other looked, acted, all things that had him damn near choking on air for just being here. It's why he kept that distance at first, just to keep himself sane without being out of place. Yet he hadn't been out in a long time to fully feel comfortable. The drink in his hand was a lifeline.
The grip on the glass only tightened once he heard him in his ear. His back practically stiffened like a board with how close he suddenly was. How clearly he could listen to him and how much of his voice affected him. ". . .No, it's just been a while." Tom responds in turn, but it hardly helps anything. He doesn't move to look at him, and the only thing he can pay attention to is how much bigger the other truly was to him. How easily he could move him. Overpower him if he wanted to. Things someone who just wanted out wouldn't fixate on, but Tom does. Tom's fixating on all the dirty little things he can do, and it's enough to make him want to drink. The only thing he has to keep himself busy, yet he needed it now more than ever. Therefore, he uses his free hand to lift his mask enough to show his mouth and immediately downs his drink in one swoop. Leaning slightly back against him as he does so, only to nearly choke when he realizes. A slight noise leaves him, but he manages to swallow and grimace. "A long time-- It's been a long time."
we're starting strong tonight, huh.
"Hm? Oh right. Yeah, hard liquor? Can't go wrong here." Truth be told, this was normal for him. If he was going to drink, he was going to drink to feel something. To lose himself in it all like he did when he was alive, except there are more vices here than ever before. He doesn't have to drink himself into a stupor, but it's all he's really known. His mask being halfway off was a telling sign as he drank. Not like anyone truly cared for the anchor who got his ass handed to him every morning and night. Only now, after so long, the blonde decides to enjoy it in public rather than the safety of his home. This place wasn't usually the kind he enjoyed, but it'll do as he sits upon his stool. His mind is elsewhere when he hears someone speak to him. He doesn't hesitate to answer, but then he turns to look beside him. Who he finds confuses him for a second. The sockets of his mask shift furrow a little before he realizes who it was and can't help but laugh. "Cat's out of the bag? I didn't think they let you outta that hotel." His confidence didn't wane this time with some spirit inside as he took another swig and motioned to the bartender. "Another and another for him." Things were already looking brighter, weren't they?

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don't hide from me.
Tom always believed Vox hated him. From the moment he signed his soul away to the minute Katie got a raise. There was always this ever-growing tension in the air, the second things became one-on-one. He figured that's how he always was with anyone below him and the other Vees. It's typical behavior for a man in power, right?
come here, i just want you closer.
"Sir?" Tom questioned, not sure he heard him right. However, he knew perfectly well what he said, but why? Why did he want him closer? If anything, he's wondering why he's even here in the first place. He usually remained within the news studio unless Vox needed him; that's his boss after all. Yet it wasn't him who came looking but Valentino instead. Something about new management. Right. He is the boss.
β tell me what yer thinkinβ. i know it's dirty. β
He's grateful for his mask. That it hid his face from others, especially in a moment like this. One he never thought he'd have as his heart hammered in his chest, thumping loudly in his ear, palms feeling wet and sticky against his gloves. "I-. . " He can't even bring himself to answer properly with how close he is. Why did he decide to do this again? Oh, right, because his hand wasn't enough. I should've stayed home.
Tom might've been backtracking, panicking, possibly even having a full-on crisis, but his body said otherwise. He's excited. Just looking--hell, smelling him had his pants feeling tight. His words did not help in the slightest, like he'd been hypnotized. Almost immediately, there's something dirty there. Many dirty thoughts are running through this man's mind. How many times had he thought about having him? ". . . Are you. . Are you sure you want to know?" Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He really couldn't bring himself to just say it. To be as confident as others, wasn't there others looking to fuck him? NO- God, that's even worse. He can't help the slight hitch of breath at that. An internal battle within as he lifts his hand up to grab his mask to lift it slightly, revealing a little of his chin, the skin below scarred and marred. He needed to cool down.
travis: yes , i did notice that , thank you .
"Course, course, but are you sure a thirty-page script is necessary?" He motions to the screen in front of him as he eventually leans forward a little. "Isn't it about the action?" The blonde questioned as he looked over the dialogue, and well, it was a lot. Normally, he wasn't so willing to come down here, but he's been meaning to catch the other when they both weren't busy. Thing is? You're never quite free.
It's why he didn't seem upset when the other said he needed to finish up his script. He figured it'd take a minute, but looking at his watch? At least two hours had passed since he joined him. Tom wasn't certain what the problem was, but judging by the amount of repeats and such, he figured Travis was either running on fumes or stressing out.
"I know this is important. Urgent, I'm guessing? I understand the feeling, but maybe taking a break right now is best. We don't have to have those drinks. I could have something delivered here instead?" The anchor would reach over and touch his shoulder, giving a bit of a squeeze. He wasn't entirely certain it would help, as he's usually the one being stressed out or otherwise panicked, not the other way around. If anything, this had been the calmest he'd been while at work. Though if he took a glimpse at the various cameras, the stress might spike a little, but surely Vox wouldn't care that much to see them like this, right? It's already getting late anyhow. They weren't exactly on company time either, right? His hand immediately leaves him at that. Sudden and quick, he rummages his pockets for his phone before pulling up Helleats. "So. . . any cravings?" What the hell am I doing?
slides it over nervously
"Travis? Why are you so nervous-" He looks down at the bingo card he filled out. His expression shifted from confused to surprised. "You got everything but one?" Now it's his turn to be a little nervous. ". . . Wow, I- Well. . um. . should we get some coffee sometime? drinks? anything?"

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@trencast
"Almost a full card and only one bingo. You're a hard man to please."
"I am a hard man to please. I wouldn't have made it this far if I weren't, after all, but you're not too bad looking! One bingo is still a bingo." He's feeling a little confident hearing that. Making him feel a bit more special with it, really.
β We'll see about that raise. β
"Sir? I- . . ." He'd only filled it out thinking a couple of co-workers would maybe a guest from the news report or show would fill it, but not Vox himself. Tom is both embarrassed, yet there's some underlying excitement. Did he mention a raise?
" Wait, really? We can?" This man really did a 180. "What do I need to do?"
"You got a double bingo? Well, you seem a lot more interesting than I thought." He's just looking at Layton, a little interested but also perplexed. "Weren't you the man who nearly died down the street?"
jeez jusβ say ya want me at this point π
" W-What?!- I mean. . ." Clears his throat. "I could take you out sometime?" He's playing it cool, but he's both panicking and excited at the same time. Body swaying a little back and forth; Tom might actually pass out.
order whatever you want, it's my treat. [ consider: business dinner / event with a continuously ominous undertone :) ]
If there were ever a time for Tom to feel a sudden impending doom, then this would be one of those times. He hadn't felt this way in a long time since he arrived in hell. That feeling practically lifted the second he decided to sign his soul away. Now he's wondering if maybe [ possibly ] that was a mistake. He's done a lot for Voxtek in terms of his feeble presence, even remotely being seen on TV. To truly hit all those demographics, as it were, because what better way to have all of hell watching than to have the co-host thrown around and nearly die every set. Tom didn't try to think about it too hard because he was indeed in the spotlight! To be seen and heard, even when such things were done to him. All he ever wanted in life. Now he's wondering if another death is on the horizon for him. Vox says he can order whatever he wants, calls it a treat, but he's looking between the lines. Trying to figure out if he went a step too far or if something happened without his knowledge. There's that grin of his that he could never really tell whether it meant well or not. "Thank you, sir." Tom's quick to answer, but he's hardly looking to cost him a fortune, but the menu has more dollar signs in it than his bank account. His mind jumped to the day he asked for a raise. Is that what this was about? The fact that he wanted one while Katie had at least three already? For someone who hated all her advances, he was throwing her all the biggest bones. "I'll just take the house salad and Manicotti. " Those at least looked like reasonable prices, but just as he sets his menu aside, he realizes that now he's essentially leaving room for conversation. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, but what exactly could he say? Should he just outright ask before he gets a meal for his troubles, or does he just sit there and wait? Hollowed eyes of his mask shifting from the overlord to the glass of wine before him as he's tempted to just down that there, likely ask for another to calm his nerves. Or excuse himself for one of the cigarettes burning in his pocket, waiting to be used as he can feel the sweat beneath his gloves soak through the leather.

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do make certain you meet with success !
"Yes, yes, I always try my best. There's no other way after all." He's given a smile to the man despite his nervous disposition. Not every day he's able to speak with the other Vees after all, and considering he's essentially one of his consumers, it's a lot to take in. To really be able to see Val's studio, but be professional enough not to focus heavily on the stars roaming about. Or how he could already hear a film being put in motion. The moans themselves could be heard through the walls. If he were a weaker man, that might've made him fumble even more, but he's calm enough. Sitting across from the moth as he'd been questioning him for this interview the entire time. The camera is front and center until eventually they're being told to cut it short. "And you heard it here, folks! The Big Boss Daddy himself has big plans for the company! We'll be sure to fill you in on all the big news! My name's Tom Trench, and this was 666 news."
He gave his usual sign-off before things settled. Everyone is working around him, but just as he's watching, he feels eyes on him. In fact, they've been burning into him this whole interview, only now he didn't have a script or camera in hand to intervene. As if that's stopped anyone from before. . .
"Sir? Is there something you need?" Tom's aware enough to know it was better to play kiss ass when it came to those in power than anything. Still, it wasn't like he was looking to piss off the man either, but his stare ultimately had him wondering what the hell he did to warrant such a thing.
@reportingdead : we don't have time for this, tom.
"I was just looking--" Now he's getting dragged. Great. Tom didn't think that agreeing to go out with Katie for some coffee would involve him being used as a literal pack mule. If the number of shopping bags he'd been holding were any indication. None of which were his own, and when he decided he wanted to see for himself? She decides there's no time. Weren't they just supposed to be getting coffee right now?
A coffee run she says. Why does he even listen to her? Getting thrown so easily that he might as well be called a ball! Tom questions himself every damn time for it, even now as her nails dig into him with enough force to bruise. The pain at this point was natural for him, like something that never left his side. Katie liked to remind him of it. That's the last time he decides to drown himself in alcohol with her near. It's almost like she's taunting him with each bash to the head and coffee spilt against his groin. That he likes a woman willing to break him down. There's the answer he's been looking for in it all, despite never once asking her to or at least not enough to remember. "Are we going for coffee now?" It's a simple question now, despite her obvious rush to get wherever she was taking him. He's almost betting she's going to yell in that moment, like he needs to get with the memo. Still, he at least wanted to know before his arms fell off holding all this.
@reportingdead