Vox Populi, Vox Dei

Some say Sinners of your kind especially value those flowers.

*those are daylilies, of course, because Vox is a little shit, and he watches Alastor's reaction attentively*

"Flowers? Dear, in my time, a good bottle or rye or a well sourced cigare would have made more of an impression! Even on "Sinners of my kind"..."

Still, he approaches the bouquet to admire its colors. "To be fair, it does smell deliciously pleasant, so I will accept it. Just think cigarettes, next time, or well aged brandy!"

He is still nose deep into the flowers, some pollen even sticking to the fur of one ear. He picks one up and, out of curiosity, crunches it under his teeth.

"Curiously delightful!" He keeps munching on his prize until he notices Vox's amused expression.

Of course, he will elect what seems funnier to him.

"You wanted to make this public?" he smiles with no warmth, while quietly taking another crunchy bite off the flower.

His red eyes fixate on Vox in silence.

Somehow the fearsome Radio Demon looks much less menacing when munching on a bouquet.

Even though it would be such a pain to be groped and gawcked at again.

He plucks another flower, only the gorgeous end, and carefully slides it into the upper pocket of Vox's coat.

"Hey!" he points his finger at Alastor. "Do not threaten me with tail exposure! You know that your tail is top secret. Exclusive knowledge. National treasure of Hell. No one should see it. No one! I will blind every fucker who dares to glance this way."

Alastor carefully reaches for his chest pocket, and Vox lowers his arms, standing still and allowing the Overlord to top off his attire with a flower.

His breath hitches slightly at the question, and Vox averts his eyes.

"Yes, Al. Sure. You know I was just playing with you, right? I would never share something like that with some fucking outside losers! You are the entertainer, you create spectacles, you choose when you become one. I'll never make an entertainment out of you for my audience..." Vox pauses, looking back at Alastor, his screen glowing in light cyan, and adds honestly, remembering the parade before the Might of Lilith incident,

He tips one of Vox antennas. "As, I am sure, some of your anatomy does, too! I always wondered how you kept your old, arthritis riddled corpse from rusting!"

"Fuck yes! You should allow me the privileged access right away. I am so qualified for this. I could groom your tail like a pro," Media Overlord has never ever groomed a tail of any creature neither in life nor in afterlife. "My knowledge of deer nature expanded exponentially in the last weeks! I've done research!"

His antennas twitch and spark up at the light tap.

"Hey, my body is and has always been in EXCELLENT condition. I am striving for perfection, remember? Maybe certain old deers have arthritis, couldn't be me!"

Vox pauses, looking at the flower in his pocket. Alastor's question is still there to answer, so he does so - very reluctantly.

Alastor manœuvers around the table where the bouquet rests, slowly putting it between himself and Vox as he walks, one claw scratching its surface lightly.

"You may do well to remember I may have features of a deer, but I am not one... Although I would never call myself human either, ah!"

He strokes a petal, and the flower shrivels and dries on the spot.

He picks another one to smell it. "In fact, I cut off and ripped out all of my deer appendages at least once, to test whether they would grow back."

He licks the flowers pistil, gathers pollen on his tongue, then puts the flower back.

The threat to eliminate the deer appendages makes him gasp and reach out, following Alastor to catch him.

"But baby!" he groans, smoothly circling the table. "You cannot be serious. I treat your ears and tail with utmost respect! Do not get rid of them. They are so..."

Media Overlord wants to say "adorable", but, judging by Alastor's look, that word won't be appreciated. As well as "cute", "fluffy" and "pettable", which come to Vox's mind next.

Besides, isn't he doing just that? Circling the table slowly, leading Vox to follow by eyeing him, enticing the predator to react.

He traces the table with the tips of his own claws, leaving slight, barely visible scratches.

"That all the new turf wars happened because I chose you over Val."

It almost seems like a dance, a game, but Vox does close the distance between them inch by inch, picking up the speed, as Alastor evades him.

"That the Media Overlord must be insane, obsessed and reckless, if he decided to pursue Radio Demon again."

His claws slide towards Alastor's fingers on the table slowly, as if seeking touch.

"That it is risky enough to try and retrieve my associates instead of denouncing them, but being so close to you is the most dangerous game anyone can play in Hell, because everyone fears you, love."

Instead of touching fingers, Vox unexpectedly covers the remaining distance between them by two quick steps, and pulls Alastor towards him by the waist.

But he retracts from that touch just as soon, shadowing behind Vox with a playful smirk, and a purring murmur. "Got me? Ah, my delightful idiot box, you do know that is barely enough to graze me, don't you? You will have to do much better if you do actually wish to catch me..."

He swirls away again in shadows, this time to sit in a nearby chair, legs spread as a king's on his throne, chin resting mockingly on a lazy wrist as his eyelids dropped with a tease.

He snaps his teeth at the purring voice in his audio sensors, and turns to the shadow, ready to catch it again, just for Alastor to dissolve in the shadow and reappear again in the chair next to him.

"Oh, I won't just catch you," Vox promises, voice dropping lower, as he completely enters his hunting mode. "You might be great at eluding and luring, but I, my dear, am an apex predator too."

He slowly circles Alastor, making the circles smaller and smaller, getting closer and closer.

"I have studied you for many years, I know your tips and tricks. And I know how incredibly confident you are in your superiority. It makes you reckless sometimes. So you can tease and taunt me all you want, love. I'll wait. Sooner or later," he stops behind Alastor and looms over him, mindful of not grabbing his shoulders, but tracing demon's chest with the tips of the fingers - lightly, slowly, gently, "You'll lose caution, you'll get cocky, and then..." Vox is so close that his whisper tickles Alastor's nape, "I'll pin you down, love, and you'll be all mine."

And instantly he dissolves in shadows to reappear on the couch, entirely misusing it by laying his ankles on the headrest and his own back on the sit, head hanging backwards with a smirk.

"Prey tell, how might you actually catch a shadow?" he muses with the exact cockiness Vox has just warned him about. "With a lure? A hook? A sinker?"

He takes off his coat and rolls up his sleeves, but diligently takes the flower out of the chest pocket of his coat and puts it in the chest pocket of his shirt.

"I could trap you," Vox muses. "Put lightnings all around you and cage you and your shadows with the light. But you are no ordinary predator, are you? You cannot be caged. You'd rage and try to break the walls, and you would, of course, succeed. Always so prideful, stubborn and independent. You'd escape and maim me, but what would be much worse - you'd shadow away and never come back."

He comes closer and closer to the sofa, carefully, as if a predator was stalking his prey, and there is a twisted glint in his eyes.

"How far into the flesh?"

He is evaluating how he could have his fun without killing Vox— which is a brand new consideration from him. He doesn't really want him howling in pain either, rather welcoming and enduring it for Alastor's sake.

The man is mad enough to try.

But how much would be too much?

It is not a question Alastor normally asks himself. Too much might be his default setting.

He licks his lips pensively, almost tasting Vox's blood on his tongue, red eyes focused attently on the blooming flower.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he presses one wrist down next to his head, and then the other.

His gaze looks up into Vox's mismatched features.

How far into the flesh?

"I don't know," Vox says slowly, approaching the couch, eyes bright and red and painfully honest. "I've never tried anything like that before. I would never offer this to anyone else but you, Al."

He is cautious about the claws, but he does eagerly pin the slender wrists next to Alastor's head, turning him slightly and getting on the couch himself to hover over his rival.

"So I guess I'll have to trust your expertise," he smirks, leaning closer.

For as long as you can bear me feeding, dear.

Vox gulps, as his smirk falters and dissappears, and squeezes Alastor's wrists tighter in his grip.

"Okay," his voice is hoarse.

Then he positions himself so that the flower was next to Radio Demon's sharp teeth. Willingly.

Alastor can feel the short shiver that goes through Media Overlord's body, and part of it is definitely caused by fear and "oh my hell what did I get myself into" kind of thoughts, but there is also anticipation.

Now, he only remembers how much he had needed Vox to hurt him when they finally reunited. How much he had needed to feel him, to confirm his presence through pain.

Perhaps he is still midly afraid to lose him again.

He teases Vox's shirt with his teeth, nips at the pocket to pull it back, until it eventually gets ripped half-off. It was surprisingly difficult, and opening the shirt with only his mouth proves equally tricky.

However, he finally meets flesh, that dark blue tint he licks and finds warm and salty.

Astonishingly, he does not feel eager to bite Vox. He figured he would love to try out a live meal, but... he doesn't want to make him suffer, not for this.

So his first bite is more of a nibble, barely drawing blood, a spot to tease and lick for the taste of copper.

Suddenly, he understands why Vox wanted to be hurt as much as he had to hurt Alastor, that last time.

It stops with a sharp gasp and a shaky exhale, as he feels the tongue on his flesh, and Alastor's wrists get squeezed to almost painful degree.

Vox anticipates the bite, and anticipation always builds up sensations, so no wonder that he flinches slightly at the nibble. He immediately relaxes though, his head turning light and slow at the licks to the place of the bite.

He barely registers what Alastor tells him, and needs to gather all his brainpower to get the information from the silky smooth voice beneath him.

"Alright," he whispers, and, before his mouth ends up on Alastor's neck, he breathes into the exposed skin, "Thank you."

And, after the half-kiss, half-bite, with slight smugness of a person that finally - finally, - feels reciprocation, because Alastor definitely didn't need to add that condition,

"Growing soft on me, aren't you, Al?" Vox is immediately anxious that it will be perceived the wrong way, though, "It's... it's appreciated."

His hands change position, move from the wrists to Alastor's hands, intertwine their fingers.

His heart beats faster at the kiss on his neck, and the fingers intertwined in his. It's... not as unpleasant as usual. Both annoying, unnerving, and painfully exciting, like a burn.

He tilts his head, and goes for a proper bite on the ribs, deep but not ripping. Blood pours out, that he relishes in lapping, but he still doesn't eat. Eating a live... eating Vox?

Why does it feel wrong?

That's not eating he wants, perhaps. Feeding, yes, but... how? Why? ...on what?

"No," Vox breathes out; it looks like his voice properly gave out, but only until Alastor bites him in earnest, and Vox curses, hiding his screen to muffle the moan, his claws leaving scratches on the damn couch.

But he stays there for Alastor to drink his blood, a living willing cursing being he is, and settles into the bite.

And then he hears the word "love", and the frequencies, of course, lose the signs in the transmittion, and Vox gasps, and he lowers himself slightly to look at Alastor, and there is so much adoration and euphoria in his eyes, that it's no wonder that his next bite to Alastor's shoulder pierces the skin, and then he kisses the blood off the bite, reckless and happy, and the amount of those small kisses probably breaks the condition, but can anyone really blame him?

Yet, he endures gentleness from him, because he trusts it is real, earnest, and earned.

He grits his teeth through the kisses, because he wants... he wants to want them. He wishes to accept those feelings the rest of his being is rejecting fiercely.

Fingers gripping Vox's own hard enough to crack.

He even feel a wet fire threaten to burn his eyes, which he keeps tightly shut.

"ENOUGH!"

No. I am not weak. I am never afraid. This is nothing. I can endure. I can endure anything, and I will NEVER break.

He pushes Vox harshly, switches their places to flatten the Sinner on his back, and straddle him while still holding his hands, hard.

He is heaving, antlers spiking out, ears flattened down, red eyes ticking in slight frenzy.

"My turn."

He bites down, above the heart, and takes off a large piece of flesh from it, that he pulls and tears and crushes under his teeth as blood trickles down his mouth to his stomach.

His eyes shut again as he eats, slowly, with a light hum that vibrates through his whole trembling body.

He looks dazed, almost drunk, but slowly calming down from his silent freak out.

Vincent.

His thoughts are very soft, almost fragile.

Warmth. Fear. Detestation. Affection. Care.

His feelings graze Vox's frequency with the wariness of a wild creature sniffing around a home they both want to reach, and refuse to enter.

Then he swallows, and his body collapses forward, embracing Vox's without holding him, wishing for closeness and revulsed by it both.

I hate this so much.

Vox flinches with his whole body and immediately pulls away, looking into Alastor's face, softening the grip on his fingers.

No wonder it's so easy for Alastor to push him over to his back, to straddle and pin him down instead.

Not that the deer Sinner wasn't insanely strong for his seemingly fragile stature anyways.

Vox's static screeches, and his body tenses at Radio demon's display: a jolt of anxiety sparks up in him as he picks up "not weak", "is nothing", "endure" at his rival lover's frequency. Did he push too far, got too close without noticing it? Did he hurt Alastor somehow?

There's also a glimpse of fear in Media Overlords's eyes - his self-preservation hasn't completely abandoned him, and, despite his best judgement, his glance betrays fascination that appears every time he forgets to compose himself in front of Alastor's demonic form.

My turn.

Oh.

Vox's body loses all the tension immediately, going limp underneath his rival. He inhales deeply and braces himself for the impact, chest heaving unevenly.

It fucking hurts. It hurts just as much as he imagined and a bit more, and it's not even his heart; it's not like Alastor has never given him a full battle bite before, but it's different - probably, because they are not fighting, not really, and the hunt today was more of a chase, and because he hears and feels his body tear, and yet, and yet he feels Alastor's weight, and commanding firm touch, and hunger, and the bite is placed right above his frantically beating heart, and that paints the intensity of the pain so differently—

"F U C K I N G H-ZZZZKT-ELL!" of course, he curses and screams, as Radio Demon's teeth sink deeper and take a chunk of flesh with them, but he endures that for him, he clings to Alastor's hands, holding on as hard as he can, and his scream quickly subsides to absolutely undignified whimpers and whines. Vox cannot really control that or the fact that his eyes teared up, so he tries to bite down on his lip, hard, to muffle the sounds. He forgets that he can simply mute himself.

And then he looks up at Alastor's bloodied face, and his lidded eyes, and watches him chew on Vox's own flesh - slowly, as if he was savoring it, with bluish-red blood streaming down the corners of his mouth, - and feels the hum that resonates in his own body.

He doesn't muffle his own sounds anymore. The whines, the broken, heavy breaths, the moans. That would be cheating, that would be unfair. Not allowing Alastor to see the impact. Not letting him feel the connection, the twisted intimacy of it all. It all comes together, all the sounds they both emit.

Vincent.

The soft fragility of this thought somehow makes one of Vox's tears escape and flow down his screen, ending up on the couch, already smeared with blood.

He used to hate this name on Alastor's tongue. He doesn't anymore.

Warmth. Fear. Detestation. Affection. Care.

Alastor's emotions overflow him, and then Vox sees him slowly swallow that piece of flesh; the part of body that was Vox's and is now his.

Ah, who is he kidding? Every part of him belongs to Alastor.

Radio demon collapses on top of him, and Vox draws a sharp shaky breath at the feeling of closeness, mixed with the feeling of throbbing pain above his heart.

His own heart, on the contrary, feels right at home.

Vox frees one of his hands, slowly, so slowly.

I hate this so much. May it never stop.

He caresses Radio Demon carefully - over the damp strands of hair, over the shoulders, over the back.

He doesn't feel like a powerful demon right now. More like the child he once was, telling himself "it's fine, I'm fine, everything will be fine, I will MAKE it be fine..."

It's not.

It's not.

I'm a fucking weakling. I can't be that, I can't afford it, I WON'T allow it.

Still, he stays on top of Vox, body tense and shaking, face pressed into the blood pooling on the other's chest, until he finds the strength to push himself up, and to sit back with nothing but magic holding his smile in place.

"I'll... eat your heart... someday..." They both know it. Alastor is not just a broken soul, he was born a particular shade of twisted. He will never be kind, selfless, or even safe to be around.

"I'll eat your soul too, probably." Just like a wild creature suddenly turns against their companion out of sheer instinct.

Not today.

Not tonight.

Not tomorrow.

But it will happen.

In the meantime, he looks at Vox tiredly, blue blood on his lips, fed and nauseated by the warm flesh he swallowed, claws clenched in the other's shirt.

Keeping him at arm's length. Keeping him.

"You are such an idiot."

I'm the worst person to want, Vinny. I will destroy you, and I will forget all about you when it's done.

And now, for the first time ever, he allows himself to feel it: he does not care that much, yet he cares enough it makes him sad.

He wipes his mouth, spreading the blood rather than getting it off.

Then, slowly, he presses a claw down Vox's chest. Deep. It slices and slashes until he reaches bone, that he breaks with a push of magic. Cracks resound around them, as he carefully removes the obstacles between himself and the beating heart.

Not a gash, not even a tear. A neat, methodical wound, the exact opposite of his usual M.O. Efficient, made to minimize damage, and pain.

When he finally sees the heart beating, coated in wet blue, he stops to contemplate it.

So fragile, so powerful... Splendid.

Extraordinary.

Perfect.

He leans down, gently spreading the wounds edges to lap at the pooling blood.

Vox hears the thoughts via their shared frequency through the haze of the adrenaline, pain and Alastor's closeness, and frowns slightly.

What are you talking about? Have you ever seen yourself in the mirror?

You are the strongest Sinner in Hell, you're always in control. Even I slip sometimes, but not you, never you.

Alastor pulls himself up, looks down at him, divine as always, but his smile has never been more strained.

I'll eat your heart someday.

Vox slowly raises his right arm - the movement of the left one disturbs the wound, - and cups Alastor's face, even though he knows he can pay for it.

"And I will let you," he whispers back, voice still hoarse and uneven.

I'll eat your soul too, probably.

"Dream on," Vox rasps and chuckles, immediately vincing from burning feeling in the gap in his chest. "Do you take me for a helpless prey? I can protect myself, even against you."

But maybe, if you'll want it, if you grow that insatiable, in the right time and emotions and circumstances, I'll let you taste it just a bit.

Idiot. I'm the worst person to want, Vinny. I will destroy you, and I will forget all about you when it's done.

Vox feels Alastor's sadness and detachment, feels, how the mind of his rival is mourning what hasn't even happened. But it feels as if all his feelings are seen through the thick dirty glass, his emotions much, much quieter than Vox's ever are.

But the emotions are there.

"Darling," Vox says, his breath hitches, as adrenaline wears off and pain takes its due. "Sweetheart. Love. Have you forgotten who I am? I constantly update and rebuild myself. Expand my power. My influence. I can fall, but I always get up. I crash and burn, and then I regenerate and take what's mine again, and again, and again."

His hands travel to Alastor's waist and stay there, comforting, grounding.

What I mean is I can take your fucking destruction and endure it, and survive it, and go on. You can ruin me. You can ruin yourself. And I can ruin you - because sometimes I look at your hauntingly perfect indifferent face and want to hurt you to see it change.

But I will help you rebuild it all again, always. You won't forget me, because I won't be gone.

Alastor looks at him and wipes the blood from his mouth; and then he lowers himself to Vox's chest again.

"Oh god," Vox breathes out, barely audible, and then moans and whimpers and curses under his breath renew in earnest, as Alastor works on him. But he tries not to squirm under the pressure of claw and magic, his whole body shakes in an attempt to hold still; he holds on to Radio Demon's waist as if it was a life line.

"Al, please," he isn't asking him to stop. He doesn't know what he is asking for.

He is lost in the sensations, until Alastor spreads the edges of the wound, and Vox feels fresh air on his exposed heart.

"A-Al," he stutters mindlessly, and there is fear, and want, and awe, and morbid curiosity in his voice; all in one.

And then Alastor kisses his heart, gently, so gently, even though it feels so raw and frightening at first: soft lips of his enemy and friend on one of the most vulnerable and important organs. It misses a beat at the kiss, and then only beats faster.

Vox glitches and electrocutes them both, feeling, as if he was reborn; the lightnings come from his heart, so they burn on Alastor's lips, on his ruthless fingers, engulf his entire body - but that's not bad, not bad at all, because simultaneous lightnings make the two of them closer, unite them, just like their frequencies do.

Vox: "My dear," "Sweetie"

Val: "Babydoll"

First, we are not in Satan's jurisdiction. Wraith Ring is off limits for us and Satan is not in the position to judge us.

Second, I am the only one responsible for the canon incident, my Vees have stopped me in the end to prevent the catastrophe when I got carried away.

Tell Satan to handle his imps and fuck off from what goes on in the Pride Ring.

So, during the last decade, it's possible that Satan took charge of any critical issues that happened in the Pride Ring.

... Including that cannon.

Crime Beyond the Realm of Stupidity? Well, he should judge himself first, for Crime Beyond the Realm of Hypocrisy and Cowardice. That bitch didn't even twitch when hundreds of souls were exterminated, but oh, now he wants to play the big bad ruler?

Oh, fuck him. Fuck him and his court. I will not come to the hearing, let him drop by the V-Tower if he is so willing to do his judgement, because, by Hell and Heaven, I deserve fucking medal for even trying to push back against Heaven!

What I aim to say is, I really do not advice you saying all these words and having this attitude if Satan really does end up coming here.

He will not listen to any reason if he becomes enraged, and for all my power, I am not a Deadly Sin.

... I'll be honest, none of the Deadly Sins care about sinners. At all. They don't acknowledge neither our feats nor our crimes, as long as we stay on our Ring.

Your advice was heard, your Majesty. And, with due respect, rejected. I am tired of catering to the whims of those who are stronger. I'm not gonna bow and beg for forgiveness.

I will have the exact attitude I have now. If he wants to execute me - fine, let him be my guest. But not before he finds me, drags me to court and I defend myself. And not before I point out, how fucking hypocritical he is. He is probably just jealous someone else attempted a power grab he couldn't even dream of.

And I'm sorry, but I don't want to listen to you defending his position of power and advising me to be afraid. Satan is from the Wrath Ring?

Well, pride may be my worst sin, but greed and wrath share the second place.

First, we are not in Satan's jurisdiction. Wraith Ring is off limits for us and Satan is not in the position to judge us.

Second, I am the only one responsible for the canon incident, my Vees have stopped me in the end to prevent the catastrophe when I got carried away.

Tell Satan to handle his imps and fuck off from what goes on in the Pride Ring.

So, during the last decade, it's possible that Satan took charge of any critical issues that happened in the Pride Ring.

... Including that cannon.

Crime Beyond the Realm of Stupidity? Well, he should judge himself first, for Crime Beyond the Realm of Hypocrisy and Cowardice. That bitch didn't even twitch when hundreds of souls were exterminated, but oh, now he wants to play the big bad ruler?

Oh, fuck him. Fuck him and his court. I will not come to the hearing, let him drop by the V-Tower if he is so willing to do his judgement, because, by Hell and Heaven, I deserve fucking medal for even trying to push back against Heaven!

Some say Sinners of your kind especially value those flowers.

*those are daylilies, of course, because Vox is a little shit, and he watches Alastor's reaction attentively*

"Flowers? Dear, in my time, a good bottle or rye or a well sourced cigare would have made more of an impression! Even on "Sinners of my kind"..."

Still, he approaches the bouquet to admire its colors. "To be fair, it does smell deliciously pleasant, so I will accept it. Just think cigarettes, next time, or well aged brandy!"

He is still nose deep into the flowers, some pollen even sticking to the fur of one ear. He picks one up and, out of curiosity, crunches it under his teeth.

"Curiously delightful!" He keeps munching on his prize until he notices Vox's amused expression.

Of course, he will elect what seems funnier to him.

"You wanted to make this public?" he smiles with no warmth, while quietly taking another crunchy bite off the flower.

His red eyes fixate on Vox in silence.

Somehow the fearsome Radio Demon looks much less menacing when munching on a bouquet.

Even though it would be such a pain to be groped and gawcked at again.

He plucks another flower, only the gorgeous end, and carefully slides it into the upper pocket of Vox's coat.

"Hey!" he points his finger at Alastor. "Do not threaten me with tail exposure! You know that your tail is top secret. Exclusive knowledge. National treasure of Hell. No one should see it. No one! I will blind every fucker who dares to glance this way."

Alastor carefully reaches for his chest pocket, and Vox lowers his arms, standing still and allowing the Overlord to top off his attire with a flower.

His breath hitches slightly at the question, and Vox averts his eyes.

"Yes, Al. Sure. You know I was just playing with you, right? I would never share something like that with some fucking outside losers! You are the entertainer, you create spectacles, you choose when you become one. I'll never make an entertainment out of you for my audience..." Vox pauses, looking back at Alastor, his screen glowing in light cyan, and adds honestly, remembering the parade before the Might of Lilith incident,

He tips one of Vox antennas. "As, I am sure, some of your anatomy does, too! I always wondered how you kept your old, arthritis riddled corpse from rusting!"

"Fuck yes! You should allow me the privileged access right away. I am so qualified for this. I could groom your tail like a pro," Media Overlord has never ever groomed a tail of any creature neither in life nor in afterlife. "My knowledge of deer nature expanded exponentially in the last weeks! I've done research!"

His antennas twitch and spark up at the light tap.

"Hey, my body is and has always been in EXCELLENT condition. I am striving for perfection, remember? Maybe certain old deers have arthritis, couldn't be me!"

Vox pauses, looking at the flower in his pocket. Alastor's question is still there to answer, so he does so - very reluctantly.

Alastor manœuvers around the table where the bouquet rests, slowly putting it between himself and Vox as he walks, one claw scratching its surface lightly.

"You may do well to remember I may have features of a deer, but I am not one... Although I would never call myself human either, ah!"

He strokes a petal, and the flower shrivels and dries on the spot.

He picks another one to smell it. "In fact, I cut off and ripped out all of my deer appendages at least once, to test whether they would grow back."

He licks the flowers pistil, gathers pollen on his tongue, then puts the flower back.

The threat to eliminate the deer appendages makes him gasp and reach out, following Alastor to catch him.

"But baby!" he groans, smoothly circling the table. "You cannot be serious. I treat your ears and tail with utmost respect! Do not get rid of them. They are so..."

Media Overlord wants to say "adorable", but, judging by Alastor's look, that word won't be appreciated. As well as "cute", "fluffy" and "pettable", which come to Vox's mind next.

Besides, isn't he doing just that? Circling the table slowly, leading Vox to follow by eyeing him, enticing the predator to react.

He traces the table with the tips of his own claws, leaving slight, barely visible scratches.

"That all the new turf wars happened because I chose you over Val."

It almost seems like a dance, a game, but Vox does close the distance between them inch by inch, picking up the speed, as Alastor evades him.

"That the Media Overlord must be insane, obsessed and reckless, if he decided to pursue Radio Demon again."

His claws slide towards Alastor's fingers on the table slowly, as if seeking touch.

"That it is risky enough to try and retrieve my associates instead of denouncing them, but being so close to you is the most dangerous game anyone can play in Hell, because everyone fears you, love."

Instead of touching fingers, Vox unexpectedly covers the remaining distance between them by two quick steps, and pulls Alastor towards him by the waist.

But he retracts from that touch just as soon, shadowing behind Vox with a playful smirk, and a purring murmur. "Got me? Ah, my delightful idiot box, you do know that is barely enough to graze me, don't you? You will have to do much better if you do actually wish to catch me..."

He swirls away again in shadows, this time to sit in a nearby chair, legs spread as a king's on his throne, chin resting mockingly on a lazy wrist as his eyelids dropped with a tease.

He snaps his teeth at the purring voice in his audio sensors, and turns to the shadow, ready to catch it again, just for Alastor to dissolve in the shadow and reappear again in the chair next to him.

"Oh, I won't just catch you," Vox promises, voice dropping lower, as he completely enters his hunting mode. "You might be great at eluding and luring, but I, my dear, am an apex predator too."

He slowly circles Alastor, making the circles smaller and smaller, getting closer and closer.

"I have studied you for many years, I know your tips and tricks. And I know how incredibly confident you are in your superiority. It makes you reckless sometimes. So you can tease and taunt me all you want, love. I'll wait. Sooner or later," he stops behind Alastor and looms over him, mindful of not grabbing his shoulders, but tracing demon's chest with the tips of the fingers - lightly, slowly, gently, "You'll lose caution, you'll get cocky, and then..." Vox is so close that his whisper tickles Alastor's nape, "I'll pin you down, love, and you'll be all mine."

And instantly he dissolves in shadows to reappear on the couch, entirely misusing it by laying his ankles on the headrest and his own back on the sit, head hanging backwards with a smirk.

"Prey tell, how might you actually catch a shadow?" he muses with the exact cockiness Vox has just warned him about. "With a lure? A hook? A sinker?"

He takes off his coat and rolls up his sleeves, but diligently takes the flower out of the chest pocket of his coat and puts it in the chest pocket of his shirt.

"I could trap you," Vox muses. "Put lightnings all around you and cage you and your shadows with the light. But you are no ordinary predator, are you? You cannot be caged. You'd rage and try to break the walls, and you would, of course, succeed. Always so prideful, stubborn and independent. You'd escape and maim me, but what would be much worse - you'd shadow away and never come back."

He comes closer and closer to the sofa, carefully, as if a predator was stalking his prey, and there is a twisted glint in his eyes.

"How far into the flesh?"

He is evaluating how he could have his fun without killing Vox— which is a brand new consideration from him. He doesn't really want him howling in pain either, rather welcoming and enduring it for Alastor's sake.

The man is mad enough to try.

But how much would be too much?

It is not a question Alastor normally asks himself. Too much might be his default setting.

He licks his lips pensively, almost tasting Vox's blood on his tongue, red eyes focused attently on the blooming flower.

Then, slowly, deliberately, he presses one wrist down next to his head, and then the other.

His gaze looks up into Vox's mismatched features.

How far into the flesh?

"I don't know," Vox says slowly, approaching the couch, eyes bright and red and painfully honest. "I've never tried anything like that before. I would never offer this to anyone else but you, Al."

He is cautious about the claws, but he does eagerly pin the slender wrists next to Alastor's head, turning him slightly and getting on the couch himself to hover over his rival.

"So I guess I'll have to trust your expertise," he smirks, leaning closer.

For as long as you can bear me feeding, dear.

Vox gulps, as his smirk falters and dissappears, and squeezes Alastor's wrists tighter in his grip.

"Okay," his voice is hoarse.

Then he positions himself so that the flower was next to Radio Demon's sharp teeth. Willingly.

Alastor can feel the short shiver that goes through Media Overlord's body, and part of it is definitely caused by fear and "oh my hell what did I get myself into" kind of thoughts, but there is also anticipation.

Now, he only remembers how much he had needed Vox to hurt him when they finally reunited. How much he had needed to feel him, to confirm his presence through pain.

Perhaps he is still midly afraid to lose him again.

He teases Vox's shirt with his teeth, nips at the pocket to pull it back, until it eventually gets ripped half-off. It was surprisingly difficult, and opening the shirt with only his mouth proves equally tricky.

However, he finally meets flesh, that dark blue tint he licks and finds warm and salty.

Astonishingly, he does not feel eager to bite Vox. He figured he would love to try out a live meal, but... he doesn't want to make him suffer, not for this.

So his first bite is more of a nibble, barely drawing blood, a spot to tease and lick for the taste of copper.

Suddenly, he understands why Vox wanted to be hurt as much as he had to hurt Alastor, that last time.

It stops with a sharp gasp and a shaky exhale, as he feels the tongue on his flesh, and Alastor's wrists get squeezed to almost painful degree.

Vox anticipates the bite, and anticipation always builds up sensations, so no wonder that he flinches slightly at the nibble. He immediately relaxes though, his head turning light and slow at the licks to the place of the bite.

He barely registers what Alastor tells him, and needs to gather all his brainpower to get the information from the silky smooth voice beneath him.

"Alright," he whispers, and, before his mouth ends up on Alastor's neck, he breathes into the exposed skin, "Thank you."

And, after the half-kiss, half-bite, with slight smugness of a person that finally - finally, - feels reciprocation, because Alastor definitely didn't need to add that condition,

"Growing soft on me, aren't you, Al?" Vox is immediately anxious that it will be perceived the wrong way, though, "It's... it's appreciated."

His hands change position, move from the wrists to Alastor's hands, intertwine their fingers.

His heart beats faster at the kiss on his neck, and the fingers intertwined in his. It's... not as unpleasant as usual. Both annoying, unnerving, and painfully exciting, like a burn.

He tilts his head, and goes for a proper bite on the ribs, deep but not ripping. Blood pours out, that he relishes in lapping, but he still doesn't eat. Eating a live... eating Vox?

Why does it feel wrong?

That's not eating he wants, perhaps. Feeding, yes, but... how? Why? ...on what?

"No," Vox breathes out; it looks like his voice properly gave out, but only until Alastor bites him in earnest, and Vox curses, hiding his screen to muffle the moan, his claws leaving scratches on the damn couch.

But he stays there for Alastor to drink his blood, a living willing cursing being he is, and settles into the bite.

And then he hears the word "love", and the frequencies, of course, lose the signs in the transmittion, and Vox gasps, and he lowers himself slightly to look at Alastor, and there is so much adoration and euphoria in his eyes, that it's no wonder that his next bite to Alastor's shoulder pierces the skin, and then he kisses the blood off the bite, reckless and happy, and the amount of those small kisses probably breaks the condition, but can anyone really blame him?

Yet, he endures gentleness from him, because he trusts it is real, earnest, and earned.

He grits his teeth through the kisses, because he wants... he wants to want them. He wishes to accept those feelings the rest of his being is rejecting fiercely.

Fingers gripping Vox's own hard enough to crack.

He even feel a wet fire threaten to burn his eyes, which he keeps tightly shut.

"ENOUGH!"

No. I am not weak. I am never afraid. This is nothing. I can endure. I can endure anything, and I will NEVER break.

He pushes Vox harshly, switches their places to flatten the Sinner on his back, and straddle him while still holding his hands, hard.

He is heaving, antlers spiking out, ears flattened down, red eyes ticking in slight frenzy.

"My turn."

He bites down, above the heart, and takes off a large piece of flesh from it, that he pulls and tears and crushes under his teeth as blood trickles down his mouth to his stomach.

His eyes shut again as he eats, slowly, with a light hum that vibrates through his whole trembling body.

He looks dazed, almost drunk, but slowly calming down from his silent freak out.

Vincent.

His thoughts are very soft, almost fragile.

Warmth. Fear. Detestation. Affection. Care.

His feelings graze Vox's frequency with the wariness of a wild creature sniffing around a home they both want to reach, and refuse to enter.

Then he swallows, and his body collapses forward, embracing Vox's without holding him, wishing for closeness and revulsed by it both.

I hate this so much.

Vox flinches with his whole body and immediately pulls away, looking into Alastor's face, softening the grip on his fingers.

No wonder it's so easy for Alastor to push him over to his back, to straddle and pin him down instead.

Not that the deer Sinner wasn't insanely strong for his seemingly fragile stature anyways.

Vox's static screeches, and his body tenses at Radio demon's display: a jolt of anxiety sparks up in him as he picks up "not weak", "is nothing", "endure" at his rival lover's frequency. Did he push too far, got too close without noticing it? Did he hurt Alastor somehow?

There's also a glimpse of fear in Media Overlords's eyes - his self-preservation hasn't completely abandoned him, and, despite his best judgement, his glance betrays fascination that appears every time he forgets to compose himself in front of Alastor's demonic form.

My turn.

Oh.

Vox's body loses all the tension immediately, going limp underneath his rival. He inhales deeply and braces himself for the impact, chest heaving unevenly.

It fucking hurts. It hurts just as much as he imagined and a bit more, and it's not even his heart; it's not like Alastor has never given him a full battle bite before, but it's different - probably, because they are not fighting, not really, and the hunt today was more of a chase, and because he hears and feels his body tear, and yet, and yet he feels Alastor's weight, and commanding firm touch, and hunger, and the bite is placed right above his frantically beating heart, and that paints the intensity of the pain so differently—

"F U C K I N G H-ZZZZKT-ELL!" of course, he curses and screams, as Radio Demon's teeth sink deeper and take a chunk of flesh with them, but he endures that for him, he clings to Alastor's hands, holding on as hard as he can, and his scream quickly subsides to absolutely undignified whimpers and whines. Vox cannot really control that or the fact that his eyes teared up, so he tries to bite down on his lip, hard, to muffle the sounds. He forgets that he can simply mute himself.

And then he looks up at Alastor's bloodied face, and his lidded eyes, and watches him chew on Vox's own flesh - slowly, as if he was savoring it, with bluish-red blood streaming down the corners of his mouth, - and feels the hum that resonates in his own body.

He doesn't muffle his own sounds anymore. The whines, the broken, heavy breaths, the moans. That would be cheating, that would be unfair. Not allowing Alastor to see the impact. Not letting him feel the connection, the twisted intimacy of it all. It all comes together, all the sounds they both emit.

Vincent.

The soft fragility of this thought somehow makes one of Vox's tears escape and flow down his screen, ending up on the couch, already smeared with blood.

He used to hate this name on Alastor's tongue. He doesn't anymore.

Warmth. Fear. Detestation. Affection. Care.

Alastor's emotions overflow him, and then Vox sees him slowly swallow that piece of flesh; the part of body that was Vox's and is now his.

Ah, who is he kidding? Every part of him belongs to Alastor.

Radio demon collapses on top of him, and Vox draws a sharp shaky breath at the feeling of closeness, mixed with the feeling of throbbing pain above his heart.

His own heart, on the contrary, feels right at home.

Vox frees one of his hands, slowly, so slowly.

I hate this so much. May it never stop.

He caresses Radio Demon carefully - over the damp strands of hair, over the shoulders, over the back.

(All art is made by @/Doraiwa_san animations on YouTube)

"Are you sure you want to do this, Lilith?" Sera asked, in worry, as she saw the first winner staring at the dark crystal in her hands.

"It's not a question of my wants, silly." Lilith laughed in a giggle, turning around to look at her. "It's an order from God. I have to listen to them."

Sera put her hands on Lilith's shoulders, looking at her with deep worry in her eyes. "But still, going to another universe, and to Hell..."

Lilith shook her head and looked at Sera's eyes. "I'll be fine. I have God's protection, after all." She gently took Sera's hands off of her shoulders and caressed them softly. "My mission is to take my other self place to gather information about redemption. Apparently, a sinner managed to be allowed into Heaven over there. I need to learn how it works."

Lilith looked down as she continued. "If it's real, we could replicate it over here and finally free humanity of the disease that it's Hell. And if it's a sham, Charlie will finally see the truth that all sinners are completely unredeamable and finally come back home."

Charlie, her sweet heavenborn daughter, was passing through what Lilith liked to call an 'angelic emo phase', as she had gotten angry at her for allowing the exterminations and declared that she would reedem all sinners, going down to Hell willingly.

Lucifer had tried to apologize in Lilith's name, but Charlie knew better. She knew that Lilith's hate for sinners ran much deeper than that.

Sera, who knew all about how hard-headed Lilith could be with these matters, could only sigh and get close to her. "Just... Be careful, my dear. Hell is already dangerous for any angel, much more for a winner."

"I will be, Phimy." It was the cute nickname Lilith had chosen for the Seraphim, as Sera's name couldn't be shortened, and Sery didn't sound quite well in her ears.

The two of them kissed for a moment. Lilith felt her own wings fluttering a little, as they always did when she was in a romantic mood.

In all truth, she didn't want to go. But Lilith already knew, from the moment she was born, that her wants paled in front of God's needs. Adam and Eve did not think like that, which is how they both fell and became the first sinners of Hell.

Disgusting.

As she opened the portal, she took a last look to the seraphim, who still had that worried look in her eyes. Lilith knew it would be the last time she would see her in a long time.

*****

The Queen of Hell walked through her private gardens in the Morningstar's Palace, as she always liked to do when she needed to deeply think.

All the plants of the garden were created by Lucifer, and she could feel his romantic love all over the place. The small spot of green inside all of the red that surrounded Hell calmed her down, as it reminded her of Eden.

She had very recently gained back the ability of hurting sinners, although she ended up almost smiting a friend in the process. And wasn't that as bad as before? Worse, even? At least before she wasn't a walking death threath for her people.

Lilith sighed. Perhaps she needed advice. But from who? She didn't want to risk hurting another sinner. Lucifer would only say sweet words to calm her down, but not offer her a solution. ... The best option was to ask the one person that Lilith knew she would not sweet the events down, as she herself had done exactly the same as Lilith did... Sera.

"But for that, I need to open a portal to Heaven... Okay, I can do this. Concentrate." A sinner opening a portal to Heaven was practically impossible, but she was the Queen of Hell. She had to try.

A portal opened before her.

"I... I actually did it! I..." Lilith almost jumped from joy, until someone crossed the portal instead. "... Me?"

"Greetings, Queen of Hell." Lilith said in a saccharine tone, her angelic smile not obscuring at all the hate inside her gaze. The angel wore a lavender sparkly dress that reached her neck, with her back opened to let her wings rest free. Her silver halo looked like a blank partiture, although it would resemble magical notes as soon as she started to sing.

"You... Are you an angel?" Lilith took a step back, stepping in one of the flowers as she created purple magic out of her hands.

"A winner, actually. Unlike you." The angel showed the dark crystal that she had hidden in her hand and threw it at her other self aggressively. "It's time for you to pay for your sins."

A magical diamond-like barrier formed around her, in the shape of the crystal. Lilith threw her magic in response, but it did nothing. The crystal shrank in place as it became the size of a necklace once again.

The necklace shined white repeatedly, as the sinner inside was struggling to break free. "Your magic will be useless inside there, dear." The crystal flashed white even more times in repeat as angel Lilith put on the necklace. "Now, I came here just to gather information about that redemption you preach about, but..."

She walked to the surroundings of the Palace, seeing sinners walking around freely, living their daily lives. "... I believe it's imperative I clean up a little, first."

As the sinner was coming over (or, well, 'being shadowed' over?), she noticed her pendant glowing white a few times, as the real Lilith was trying to call the sinner's attention. Asking for help or pleading him to run away, she had no idea. Either way, in a brief second, Lilith grasped the pendant with subtle force, enough for it to be noticeable inside the crystal, as she whispered 'Sush'.

Lilith put a gentle smile that didn't reach her eyes as she spoke. "Oh, I would love to." Really? Tea? Ugh, sinners always had the worst tastes... What she could not do for one of Heaven's coffee cups right now...

She looked at how the sinner offered her his elbow for half a second, before linking her arms together.

Ew.

Ew ew ew.

Sera help her, she was linking arms with a sinner, ew ew ew.

But you know what they say in Heaven: Make of a bad situation a good time.

Lilith matched his pace as she answered his question. "Oh, well... I was thinking about... Redemption."

She was going to get answers out of him.

"Guests are trying their best, but Charlie keeps rebucking my idea of killing them to see if they may pop up in Heaven next! Ah, such a gentle heart she has..." He chuckles, then hums to himself as they stroll.

"Now, now, I heard you added coffee to the menu, as per my suggestion... But I am willing to try that smokey Earl grey, for your sake! On the condition that you will not tell Lucifer I was the one to stuff his slippers with tomato sauce this morning!"

"If sinners somehow awoke in Heaven after dying, they would keep with their bad habits, since they didn't change their mentality first." Not like they would ever do that. "It would only make matters worse."

Lilith looked at him with a frown. How dare this chipper sinner make a prank to her husband?! Well, this universe's husband. If God had not lied to her (and they never would), this Lucifer was a fallen angel. Punished by granting humanity free will.

Now he was getting pranked by a sinner who used his free will to fill slippers with tomato sauce.

"That sounds quite disgusting." Lilith mentioned, referring to both the bloody slippers and the fact that Lucifer was being pranked by a sinner in the first place. As they talked, they finally arrived to...Lilith's Tea Room. Uh.

She hid her confusion with a smile. "So, shall we go in~?"

When they entered, a hellborn that resembled a hellish grey dove noticed them and greeted them from behind the counter. "Ah, Miss Morningstar, Mister Alastor! Welcome, welcome. Your table is ready, as always."

Thankfully, it was pretty clear which one was their table. It was the only empty one, right beside the window, where they were graced by the sight of the Morningstar's family statue.

As they settled down, the dove came, ready to take note of their drinks. "What will the misters take today?"

Lilith answered without looking at the menu. "I believe it's high time I tried your coffee....." She gave a glimpse to his uniform, and noticed the name plate on his chest pocket. "... Giuseppe." She gestured towards the sinner in front of him. "He will take a smokey Earl Grey, of course."

Giuseppe got close to the sinner and added. "May I suggest that you accompany it with a slice of meat pie, Mister Alastor? Queen Lilith has added them to the menu recently, although reluctantly."

Lilith frowned and looked around. Indeed, it seems like some of the clientele of the Tea Shop were from the nearby Cannibal Town. Judging by the joyful and hellish smile Giuseppe was having as he suggested the meat pie, it seems like he, too, lived in the surroundings of the neighborhood.

Giuseppe laughed, but shook his head. "It may be meaty alright, but it is from non human animals still. No Sinners on the menu, I'm afraid!"

"I will have it!" Alastor smirked as he handed the server both menus. "And Lilith, darling, trying coffee? I know you should sample your own products, but what a daring move! I will have one too, as well as that new tea she recommended."

Giuseppe bowed, and hurried to the kitchen to prepare his best tray yet.

"I see Lucifer spoiled you," Alastor smiled as he noticed the white pendant on Lilith's neck. "That little runt may have one quality— which happens to be his better half, ah ah ah!"

He picked a small spoon and started munching on it, curious as to whether his teeth could bend metal. They could. It hurt. He stopped.

Was this the kind of people her daughter (both in her own universe and in this one) wanted to reedem?

That redemption feat better be a scam, so that her Charlie could finally realize how ridiculous was the idea.

Lilith put her fingers over her necklace, feigning to be playing with it, but actually covering how it was emitting light once again. "Lucifer is so caring, isn't he ~? He doesn't fit The Devil title? He deserves Heaven~." Let's see how was sinner's general perception about Lucifer. Although seeing as he was pranking him without a second thought, probably not that great.

Besides, if this Alastor was telling her so happily, it meant Lilith didn't mind those pranks happening.... Perhaps this Lilith didn't love her husband. She should have known.

He gladly accepted Guiseppe's platter of food, eyes sparkling at the steamy meat pie.

"Scrumptious... Mmm, quite the addition to your menu, darling! And spicy! Both a bold and welcome surprise!"

He picked a few more mouthfuls while looking through the window. "Charlie is doing her best, though, and I am curious to see who she will fail next! Although I confess I miiight be rooting for the dumb spider; he is far too hearty for Hell! Those of a kinder nature definitely ought to be kicked out to Heaven, so proper Sinners would not have to mind them.

The sinner in front of her, for example. Talking about almost killing an innocent, complaining that he couldn't slaughter without remorse.

Lilith felt her hand curl into a fist as she heard him talk.

"Are there any kind natured sinners, though?" Lilith whispered loud enough to hear, letting a very brief glimpse of her halo show. She was starting to lose hold of her emotions and her internal rage. "For all it's worth, you all are down here for a reason."

"Mustn't... Kill... Myself," the Sinner murmurs.

Vox pushes him away and glances in the direction of the cafe, noticing Alastor and Lilith through the glass. His grim facial expression changes to a genuine smile and he waves at them, entering the cafe.

"Hi, your Majesty! Hey, Alastor," he approaches their table. "Didn't know that you owned a tea room, Lily."

Suddenly Vox pauses, obviously second-guessing.

"I'm not interrupting anything? Can I join you?"

He stabs a morcel of pie and lifts it up for Vox to try. "Sherperd's pie! No sherperd injured, unfortunately, yet still delicious. Shall we order some tea?"

"Yes... It's been a while." What was this sinner's name? Oh, well, who cared. "I was sampling my own coffee, and Alastor was trying some tea~." She answered with a gentle smile.

"Take a seat, dear. I want to ask about your opinion about redemption, if you would like to join the conversation ~" Lilith said, trying to not narrow her eyes in disdain.

So much has happened since then.

He tastes the piece of pie Alastor offers him, leaning over and then sitting back, clearly pondering over the taste.

"It's alright!" he says finally. "But I am actually not a fan of shepherd's pie. I always considered it a fraud. Like, pies are not supposed to be made out of potatoes. If you wanna put meshed potatoes on top of the meat, be my guest, just don't call it a fucking pie! Pie should be made using dough. Consider adding some actual pies to the menu, or! Or you could give shepherd's pie a true name! Resist against its fakeness. Show it its place in the range of all pies!"

He is obviously still heated about what just happened in the street, but he does listen to Lilith, even though he raises an eyebrow at "dear".

Media Overlord is, in fact, happy that she looks okay. Despite the plushies of the ducks in shark suits, sent to him as a gift, Vox still feels as if Lilith was elusive in those days.

Lilith thought about it for a second. "The child sinners are indeed harsh, but if they are down here is because they enjoy the taste and crave more of it. If they reject the taste, they end up in Heaven." She thought out loud... And then coughed up a little. "Not that I know anything about that, of course."

"And, that sinner - winner... Sir Pentious." Lilith narrowed her eyes at the name. In her universe, the snake had become a fallen winner after non acting during one of Adam's rampages against Heaven. "He ascended because he acted upon his fears, right? That seems... Almost too easy."

As she thought, it must be a scam. You suddenly act once against your fears, then you are able to enjoy a life time in Heaven? No, Charlie (her Charlie) was being deceived.

"Well, gentlemen, I fear I have to go take a walk. The talk has indeed been very enjoyable, but I have to do some cleaning up around Hell. I'll see you both at the Hotel." She said as she was getting up of the table. The Happy Hotel was nearby, hopefully they would know she was referring to that one.

Of course, for cleaning up, she meant 'cleaning up Hell from sinners.' As in, smiting. But that was only for her to know.

But since she was taking her leave, he graciously bid her good bye, and turned to Vox.

"No-no-no, hold on, your Majesty. Are you seriously telling me you think kids deserve to be in Hell because they liked the taste of the meat they were taught is normal to eat? It's like saying - oh, your sin is in loving cheesecakes, that actually are made used human fat or something, you don't know it's not normal and you do love cheesecakes, and unless you stop liking them, you're doomed. Besides, maybe they don't even like human meat, as Alastor says. Maybe they did it for survival, out of lack of knowledge. Again, I'm sure there are some kids that killed their peers or whatever, but even that more often than not is about their parents and upbringing?"

He snorts slightly at Alastor's take.

"I know, I know! You often told me that human meat is just another meat, and it was just a source of food, and yet, my dear, you do snack on those fingers in Rosie's parlor!"

Vox rubs the side of his monitor at the mention of Sir Pentious.

"The snake self-sacrificed," he says pensively. "Foolishly, of course. In the most dumb, inefficient, stupidly heroic way. He went against the much bigger threat to protect his friends and his crush. Stepped in between them and the archangel he had no way of defeating. I'd find a dozen ways of protecting people without diving headfirst into archangel's holy power, but... Risking dying forever as a soul seems pretty fucking hard to me."

He blushes suddenly, looking back at Alastor.

"Well. Unless one is having a meltdown. Then it might seem quite easy... for a few minutes or so."

Reluctantly, she sat down once more.

"Well. You both make good points, but then I must question... Why are cannibal children down here, then? Surely it must not be because Heaven has decided to close the doors on them. There must be another reason." Although right now she could not think of one. Aside of those kids's souls already be corrupted in some way, like every other sinner.

Lilith narrowed her eyes at the mention on Alastor's culinary tastes. "You snack on fingers?" She asked, not even hiding her disgusted face.

She shook her head. "Nevermind." Change of topic, Lilith, change of topic. "That snake..." She was impressed, to be honest. Sinners were powerless against angelic power. To face one to protect their beloveds was a feat even she couldn't deny. "So... For redemption all we need is self sacrifice, right?" Lilith concluded.

"And finger food? Finger food, darling! I have to snack on those, if for the pun alone! Besides, they are light and crunchy like crisps, you ought to try them someday!"

He eyed Lilith. "You have seen me eat those before," he smiles widely, with no warmth. "And you do know first hand how rigid and cruel Heaven is to those it believes to be in the wrong..."

He observes her closely, then picks up his own cup of tea. "Enjoying your coffee? I personally dislike that smokey taste in your new tea. You had me used to better quality! Why made you pick this one in particular?"

Alastor's tone of voice, and, more importantly, the things he says, makes Vox look at Lilith's cup.

"Damn, you ARE drinking coffee!" he says, and then jokes, still not catching up fully, "Who are you and what did you do to Lilith?"

"I was just sampling the new coffee of the menu." She says as she takes one last sip of coffee. It had gotten cold. She had spent far too much time talking to these sinners. "And I thought that a smokey tea would suit your tastes. I humbly apologize."

Lilith's gaze went over to the door. This table was the farthest from it, situated at the other end of the shop, and Lilith had already been stopped once when she was starting to get up once. If they were suspecting her, she would have no chance of crossing that door.

In that case...

"Well, the talk was very enlightening, indeed. Specially about redemption. But I'm afraid my time for fun has run out." Lilith put the tips of her fingers on the window. "May we never see each other again." Her angelic power concentrated on her fingers sent vibrations through the glass in such a speed that, suddenly, the window broke outwardly in an explosion.

Lilith opened her wings and quickly flew away between the shards, any scratches that she got quickly healed thanks to her fast regeneration. A few of her feathers were left on the table where she had just been, near the cup of coffee.

"Be glad I didn't hurt any of your friends. Consider this the only mercy I will give your people." She spoke to the crystal.

Lilith knew that, if she came across those sinners again, it wouldn't be for a sweet tea talk.

Alastor's shadows dart behind the false Lilith, as he melts into darkness himself in pursuit.

It could have been fun to play with her, but this angelic foe may end up hurting Charlie in this form.

So he flees forward, catches up with her shade, and engulfs her in a swirl, aiming to transport her to one of Vox's safe rooms at the tower.

...aken appearance?... doppelganger?

In the shadow realm, fighting to overpower the mighty Lilith, his radio waves to Vox break up at times.

If cannot... ...sure Charlie is safe... I... ...edges of Pride... ...containment, darling!

Angelic powers, he sends through their shared frequency frantically, she has angelic powers! The color of her magic! That was some angelic shit, must be other dimension or an angel taking her face!

Where is the real Lilith then?

I must join you.

I'll warn Charlie and others first.

Be very careful, if you die, I'll triple kill you.

With that he zaps away to the hotel, scaring the shit out of half of the tenants and catching Charlie - quite literally - to explain her briefly that her mother is currently not her mother, and she should be wary of that, but soon Alastor and him will put things into their places.

Vox has no idea how they can do that.