☰ GOING SUPERNOVA ☰

"Vox, I don't go looking up people's private affairs or their lives. I don't use social media, remember? Anything I know about our guests is because they trusted to tell me and I haven't ever been to Earth. I don't know much about it beyond what sinners bring down with them and recreate here." She sighed again, one hand playing with her sleeve. "Call it sheltered but I don't actually know that much about humans and those that do share aren't always honest with me."

"So when you talk about the ocean and sea creatures and things like that, its coming from somebody who has never and will probably never see the real ocean. Just what fascimille we have here." She gave him a gentle look, her tone apologetic for prying. "I ask because I just don't know and I appreciate you telling me about your life and interests.

That gives Vox pause, eyebrows tense as he stares down at his shoes, gathering his thoughts. Surely Charlie would at least understand the major beats of human history, right? Have none of her Sinner friends made comments like his own?

It's.. actually kind of sad if that's the case.

『 I didn't think it'd be much of a stretch to assume you would've researched human history, especially the events that would've sent sinners down here en masse. 』 Though, with the word "sheltered" being used by Charlie herself, Vox could see her father hiding all the vile aspects of humanity from her -- simplifying it into a black and white matter. Humans are awful, dangerous creatures that cause pain and suffering.

『 I think it'd be difficult to redeem someone if you don't know anything of the world they lived in. Even the broad strokes would provide context, or at least that's my two cents on the matter. 』 His claws clink as he gestures with his hands. 『 Like the little maid girl? She's the spitting image of a housewife from the same era I died. Chances are, we were both shoved into that mold -- only, she took to it with enthusiasm while I rejected it. 』

His entire body language is that of fear as he curls in on himself, tail wrapping around his frame and posture slouched. There’s none of the cocky self-assured nature that had been showcased during his video message, and though the Speaker is very much aware that he likely still has access to the weaponry he had used and could very well still be a threat….he’s not exactly showing any signs that he’s interested in such a thing now. Vox is afraid. Hurt. And it brings no joy to her heart to see it.

“Splendid,” she says, pouring him a cup before setting it on a saucer by him. She takes a diminutive sip from her own cup, poured from the same kettle, as if to silently demonstrate that the beverage isn’t poisoned. “Now then. I take it you not deny the charges that you stand accused of. I do not seek to insult your intelligence by implying otherwise. But what I wish to know is the reasoning behind them. You have connections in Hell, after all.” She waves her hand, and images appear, made of golden light. Val and Velvette by his side, the masses hanging on his every word, all the products that Voxtech has ever put out—even his efforts to rescue his sharks and give them a better home. “Hell itself seemed quite fond of you before this. So why seek to change things? Why seek to rise to an even loftier station? Surely you would have sought out a way to strike at Heaven much sooner than this, if that was your ultimate goal.”

Vox seems intelligent, after all. If he had wanted to strike at Heaven before this point, he could have easily found a way to do it—she believes that without a single doubt in her mind. The images switch to him on top of the Might of Lilith after a moment, screeching that as long as he wiped the smile off of Alastor’s face, he didn’t care what happened—

“You are hurt, deep down inside. Hurt by this Alastor, and yet….I do not think he is the only one who put the hurt there. And to understand this, I must understand you.” She leans back, conjuring—where on earth did she get an entire file from. She flips through it idly, letting her hand rest on one of the first pages with a quiet hum of consideration. “You have been known by many names throughout your life, my child. But there is one in particular that I wish to know about.”

She flips the file towards Vox, letting him see the image of a version of himself that he more than likely never wanted to see again.

“Tell me about Margarethe, if you wish to. I have heard of this desire to be someone other than who you were born as before, but there are many justifications for it. I wish to hear yours. I wish to know how she became you.”

His silences stretches throughout the speech, eyes only drifting up from the cup he was poured when the Speaker creates visuals. Images of everything he ruined. The two he thought would stay by his side no matter what happened, the people who hung off his every word, the respect of his fellow Overlords.. Everything he thought was a given.

Only for his foolish actions to rip that away, the very tool he used reflecting off the glare of his screen -- his own face, manic, at his breaking point, staring down at what he's become.

How much does the Speaker know about his intentions? Is she feigning ignorance, or does she truly not know? Does she know how little he cared in that moment, how he'd given up once the high crashed down and reality became visible?

She must know more than she's letting him see, else the file -- the image -- being presented to him wouldn't be in the room with them. The woman he killed lifetimes ago.

『 Why? 』 His voice carries a boldness his body doesn't convey, a rage that still bubbles in his chest, even when it's been subdued.

Why does it matter who he was before he stood atop the Might of Lilith? Who he was before he died? Who he was when he was born? Like a marker being stained as it passes over ink, he knew he could never take his actions back, that it'd forever mar his soul. An explanation won't change that.

『 Knowing the steps I took to get here doesn't change anything. I still tried to incite a war and hurt your people. Nothing I say or do will heal that. 』

Nor will it heal his own wounds. (Does he even want it to?)

The past few months has only proved Alastor correct -- Vox was broken from the start, trying to glue pieces together that could never form a full human. And now? Now he's missing more pieces than where he started. He's continually chipped at himself until he became something else entirely.

『 I killed her, and I don't regret a second of it, even if that led me to where I am now. 』

"Hold on and let's rewind a second. What was that about a war and food?" Charlie had heard mention of numerous wars from Earth, the humans constantly at odds with each other over usually nonsensical differences in idealogy and resources. "I don't mean to segue but I've never heard you mention this before. What do you mean 'food wasn't a guarantee'?"

『 I was born a few years before the first world war, 』 He deadpans in sharp contrast to his previous tone. Sure, his age might not be the most commonly known fact about him, but Vox thought Charlie would've at least looked it up and gathered an estimated timeline. After all, how are you supposed to redeem someone if you don't know what their life was like?

『 ..and a major famine, which isn't exactly an ideal combination. 』

『 So, yeah, food wasn't a guarantee. You ate whatever you could get, even if it was more sawdust than bread. 』 He crosses his arms. 『 I thought this would've been something you knew about? I'd bet half the people in the fucking building lived through that shit.. Though I hear it wasn't as bad overseas. 』

〢 WHAT KIND OF SHARK ARE YOU?

BULL SHARK

you're very versatile! you can swim in both salt and freshwater and often travel up from the ocean to inland streams. you're quite aggressive and unfortunately you have a bad reputation for having a high amount of attacks on humans. you're not a picky eater and usually go after larger prey. you, Great Whites, and Tiger sharks should be friends i think :-]

But she wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth! If one could call sorting through the psychological damage of one of her greatest rivals, as well as shouldering the burden of all his mental illness, a "gift horse".

"I'm definitely not asking you to do that," Charlie said quickly, still protective of Angel. She didn't know the half of what Vox had put him through, but she knew it wasn't good. "I mean an apology wouldn't be amiss but-"

but he hadn't even apologized to her yet, so she wasn't holding her breath for Angel.

"You see the thing about becoming friends, Vox, is it has to be mutual. I don't really think Angel would be.... ready for that step either."

She wanted to back track a bit.

God, Vox swears he can see the thoughts running through Charlie's head. It's an obvious fantasy for her to get him and Angel into friendly relations with each other, or coax an apology out of him, or whatever the fuck else her Disney princess-ass comes up with. But that's all it is:: a fantasy.

『 Glad to hear it's mutual, then. 』 He crosses his arms, leaning impossibly further into his seat, praying the cushion will swallow him whole and keep him from upholding his end of his deal.

『 And is there really a difference between both of those? They have a spat and now it's my fucking problem. I'd like to go one goddamn day without hearing all about how Angel fucked up in one way or another. 』

The tip of his tail flicks in agitation. From what, Vox can't say. Likely a combination of needing to talk about Angel and being stuck in these pointless sessions as a whole.

『 Or there's the complete opposite, where I'm only hearing about how amazing and sexy he is, and I can't begin to explain how fucking relieved I was when I no longer had to help edit and review his "films". 』

"So what about sea life interests you? I know Earth's oceans are huge with big parts of it still unexplored but is there really that many different species in it? All I ever hear people talk about are fish, sharks and whales whenever I ask." She paused for a moment before Chsrlie spoke again, giving an addendum to her statement.

『 For one, the ocean takes up like seventy percent of Earth's surface, and a lot of the stories I heard as a kid centered around it. My family had spoken a lot about leaving the country, so I guess crossing the ocean was a common conversation topic. 』

『 I think that mysterious element drew me in, since we still don't know a whole lot about it. 』 As well as a forbidden element, now that he thinks in hindsight -- always described as dangerous, and a place where humans didn't belong. Yet humanity continued to explore in spite of that, and Vox soaked up every bit of information he could get like a sponge.

『 ..And it kind of gave me something to absorb myself in while there was an entire ass war going on and things like food weren't a guarantee. It always amazed me how we had so much going on, while an entire world under the surface was completely unaware of it. 』

@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?”

The Overlord was in no state for a conflict, be it physical or verbal. Since losing his status, being kicked out of his own company, his title of Overlord being thrown into question, all drive Vox had once felt had evaporated. He hadn't been seen or heard from in days, self-exiling himself to his room while Valentino and Velvette moved on without him.

Today hadn't diverted from his new routine -- rotating between rotting in bed and attending to the one thing he felt he had left, his babies sharks. It was a mercy that he was whisked away during the latter. At least he didn't look as pathetic to the angels now staring him down.

The sweater that had been rolled up to his elbows is quickly pulled back down to his wrists, the task of hiding the (still raw) scars on his arms automatic. All while his mind reeled at the sudden change in environment.

『 ..Was zum Teufel.. 』

It takes far too long for his brain to catch up with his audio receptors. This is-- What the actual fuck?

His body acts before he can stop it, eyes wide as saucers as he moves to a seat across from the giant fucking angel bird. A confrontation with Heaven's forces had been expected -- hoped for, even -- but this? A discussion as opposed to an execution? That wasn't something he accounted for.

Not that he had plans for much of anything going forward.

『 ..No-- No, tea is.. Tea is fine. 』 In sharp contrast to just a few weeks ago, his body is attempting to make itself smaller, tail curling around himself, shoulders slouched forward, hands nervously sitting in his lap. None of the confidence he held during his rally, no attempts to prove himself better than the angel staring him down. 『 ..Thank you..? 』

"It can't be easy caring for six sharks, can it? Don't they need a lot of space to swim around in?" Her lack of knowledge is evident as she looks over the various pictures, taking in their similar yet varied appearances. "I know Vark is decent size but Shok.wav is a pretty big girl and needs a big tank, right?"

『 Well, yeah, that's what the museum-grade aquarium spanning the entire height of the tower is for. 』 He preens the lapels of his jacket, giving his hands something to busy themselves with as he speaks. 『 It gives them plenty of room to swim around in, and they get entertainment from seeing whatever everyone else is doing around the building. 』

『 And most of the sharks in Hell originate from Envy or Greed -- which I'd love to see in-person if I could traverse rings. 』 Stupid Hellborn-only restrictions. No matter, at least he can get a decent look through various cameras.

『 Though there's a number of people that'll try to bring them into Pride for, as much as I fucking hate it, exotic meat, or to be kept in much shittier aquariums like they're goldfish. Who also deserve better tanks but I won't get into that right now. 』

『 I was able to intercept a few of those traffickers because they were stupid and thought they could use my district as a shortcut. I try to keep animal traffickers as a whole from coming through, but that's a Sisyphean task and not everyone gets the message I try to put out. 』

Oh. It occurs to him, as he watches Vinzenz's tail sneak back to curl around his body, that he might have overstepped just a tad. Why can he never fucking stop opening his mouth and inserting his entire leg, for fuck's sake.

"Ah--no, I get that. Trust me, I know what medical care was like in the fifties a....little too intimately, if you catch my drift." Which is the understatement of the fucking century, but hey, what Vinzenz doesn't know won't kill him. Probably. "But there's. Uh. Better options now, right? Fuck if I know shit about it, but....I, uh, know it can fuck up your chest and such if you're not doing it right. Probably don't have to worry about it killing you or anything down here, but still." He should probably shut up now. He feels like he's been talking for too long. "Right. I probably shouldn't be talking about shit I don't know anything about, so. I'll shut up now."

It's only when Vinzenz brings up that he can't exactly swap bodies like him that Vox blinks, looking him over incredulously. "Right, the whole....your brain isn't in your head. Thing. Or whatever. Where the fuck is it, then. Can't think of why the fuck it would be different for you, but...." Other than the obvious choice, anyway, but he's fairly certain that Hell wouldn't go for a gender reasoning on that kind of thing. "And it's not....you can't find a way to heal it? That's. Kinda worrying, not gonna lie." Look, he knows angelic shit is the only thing that can actually permanently harm him anymore, but why the fuck would the effects of it still be sticking around? Scars, he can understand, but his usual healing factor should have at least tried to kick in to take care of the rest.

Unless Vinzenz doesn't have that either. Which isn't really a thought he cares to dwell on for very long.

『 There are, and I'm using them now. Velvette made me a properly fitted one years ago. 』 Though Vox doesn't need to know Vinzenz doesn't wear it as recommended -- often for far too long with far too little breaks. 『 Thing even has mesh sides so I have an easier time breathing through it. 』

『 ..And that's... 』 He racks his brain for an appropriate word. The situation has been explained to him dozens of times now, none of which where Vinzenz appreciated what he heard. 『 ..complicated. 』

『 I've been told it's going to stay a.. chronic issue.. unless I got one of the fucking Morningstars or an actual angel to intervene. Said it's damage to my soul, made worse 'cause all my important shit is in my chest. 』

His arms cross over his chest, and he swears his eyes must possess opposite polarity from his counterpart, because he's able to look at anything but the person he's speaking with.

『 As of now, I'm only able to manage the symptoms. It's not too bad most the time, but if I'm not careful it'll flare up and feel like I'm dying all over again. 』

"Fuck do you mean, it kind of--okay, you know what. Stupid thing to be worrying about right now. You're right. One thing at a time, and then we dig the stupid things out of me and fling them over the side of the tower or something." Grumbling to himself, tail giving another ill-tempered lash behind him. "Fuck me, why couldn't you have gotten one of those surgeries for the uterus. Hys-something. Whatever the fuck it's called. Just take the whole thing out. Problem solved." It's not that he's meaning to seem like he's putting down Vinzenz's entire....situation, but with how much pain he's presently in, he likes to think he's earned the right to be a bit of a little bitch about this entire thing. It probably helps that his usual anger response feels....weirdly dulled, when he's in a body that's not his own. Another tick of evidence to add to the chart about how Vinzenz is apparently a slightly more well-adjusted version of him, he supposes.

He watches as Vinzenz's eyes flick to the needle and his own body immediately starts giving off stress signals, his own gaze flicking away as his antennas flatten against his head in turn. He....should probably explain why Vinzenz is having such a visceral reaction to such a tiny thing, but he can't just bullshit a version of himself about it the way he could with anyone else. He can't just say that it wasn't actually that bad, he doesn't even know what was real and what wasn't due to being drugged up almost the entire fucking time, that it had technically been for his own safety even though he really doubts how much of that excuse was true sometimes--

Thankfully, Vinzenz's speech distracts him enough for his mind to not immediately spiral into darker thoughts. He nods, gently kicking off his shoes before looking back at his counterpart quizzically. "Not feeling a real urge to whack you just yet, pal, but let's....keep it that way, I guess." Shaky inhale. "Right. Okay. Using the tail as a counterweight or something, how hard can that fucking be. Uh, for me--" He breaks off, furrowing his brows in thought. ".....fuck, I've never had to give someone else advice on how to walk around in my body before. I don't think I'm qualified for this shit. Longer strides to make up for the loss of weight, maybe? I don't--agh. Okay. One of us has to start moving or else we're gonna be here all fucking day."

『 Tried that already. The thing just regenerates. 』 The anger in his voice isn't being aimed at Vox, but the situation as a whole -- his body, their current situation, Hell as a whole. 『 I can't really.. get rid of part of my punishment that easily. 』

Even if he tries to hide his form behind layers of fabric, or under layers of compression, or with a cocktail of pain medicine and days off. He's sure they both have traits that are like that -- every Sinner does, if what Vinzenz has heard can be believed.

『 Look, let's just-- Let's go on three, alright? 』 They can talk about all of this later, or ideally: Forget about it entirely. Maybe they can find the root cause of whatever caused this and he won't have to cut himself open from an outside perspective, in a body that isn't his own. (Would he even be able to do it himself? If he reacts this harshly to needles, is it much of a stretch to assume he'll struggle with other medical items?)

『 One.. Two.. 』 He shakes the thought from his head. There are more important things to focus on. Namely, preparing to lift both of them up and move across the fucking room already. 『 Three-- 』

And they're up. Shakily, but up.