Hell Belongs to the Vees!

Vox would have rumbled a laugh if he could, but his body shook at least with it, even if it was without sound. It had been time for something to go wrong, wasn't it?

But the kiss left him pretty relaxed afterwards, despite it all.

Vox's attempt and failure at further communication did not instill him with much confidence, his feet shifting beneath him as he tried to rack his brain for a solution. If it was as easy as just sliding Vox a piece of paper, then surely the television would have done so already.

Alastor snuffed irritably.

"Do you know if it's temporary?" He asked. Vox could at least nod or shake his head, couldn't he? He'd already expressed with his hands. But perhaps Vox knew more about this strange affliction than Alastor was presuming. If it were temporary, then... He could wait it out.

Not happily, but still.

As for wanting Alastor hovering around or not...Vox squinted at him, tilting his head, trying to get a proper read on him. Even without the use of their shared signal, he could guess a few things.

"A week should be doable for Reginald." He agreed. The old dignitary should be fine. Didn't hurt for Lucifer to take breaks from his work, either. Much as he rarely took those breaks without prompt.

Okay - well. At least he had been on the right track. Alastor might not be able to discern exactly what had caused this situation, but now he knew the relative extent of it.

Not that it made him any happier to have to cope with it, however. He'd grown accustomed to being aware of that shared channel between them - and having it suddenly stifled was frustrating and uncomfortable. For him, at least, if not the both of them.

"How do we fix it?"

Vox didn't really have an answer. Not one he was happy with, in any case. And it was only a hypothetical, not worth the risks of it getting out to the public if actually attempted, even with Velvette's amazing skills.

His shoulders slumped, his hands held out in an 'no idea' sort of motion before he brought his hand back up to brush back his antennas in a fidget, biting his digital lip.

For a moment, he tried to get subtitles to cross his screen in a way to explain that the situation was time limited, but as he got the first word to scroll, his screen began to glitch, color bars appearing and taking up his face before he had to stop entirely and grab his screen. Internally, he cursed, scowling at that failure.

What if Stan found out about this and decided to pull something when Vox was effectively neutered here? Sure, sure, Vox still couldn't do much anyway, but it was still important.

Some vague faceless techno wizard from beyond the screen!

He spread his hands wide after that, as if panning over an imaginary digital world where people stayed up till 3am thinking up silly little commands to write into the coding of Vox's life just to torment him specifically!

And then his gaze dropped back down to Vox with a pointed, knowing look.

I don't download porn, I don't need that shit.

Not when Vox can watch the real thing - and also. Valentino. Ahem. He wasn't going to explain any of his terrible habits, thank you VERY much.