Chapter Text
“You're inspiring! Really! And when you think about it, modern entertainment actually started with radio.” Vox beamed.
Alastor merely hummed in response. He wanted to see where this was going. He couldn’t let this get boring.
“Ah, am I boring you with my compliments?” Vox flushed, embarrassed.
“Perhaps.” Alastor shrugged.
Vox blushed. “Well, look, I'll just get to the point. We've been close for a few years now, right? I mean, people know us, they love us. And with new Overlords popping up every day, and before you hit me with a, "Well, you're pretty new yourself." I know, okay, but I'm much more forward-thinking, so it's in your best interest to hear me out.”
Vox’s voice replication abilities were really something else. Vox’s voice was really something else. If only Alastor could utilize it to get out of his deal.
“I'm listening, pal.” He half-lied, before gesturing to whoever was behind the bar. “Barkeep, another whiskey.”
Vox smiled and looked away. Electricity flowed and crackled between his two antennae. The barkeep made Alastor another whiskey, and he tossed a coin to them. Because he was so generous.
“So, I've been thinking, Alastor, with your incredible power and my massive influence, we would be unstoppable. Radio and video. Me and you- we could rule Hell, together, as partners.” Vox offered his hand.
Partners. The same way Alastor had pleaded with Rosie. Partner and pathetic went hand-in-hand.
Alastor couldn’t save himself from laughter. Vox had no idea what he was trying to get into. “Oh, that's- Oh, you're serious? Ah-ha-ha, come now, Vox! I knew you could be pathetic at times, but I didn't realize you were so weak!”
Vox chuckled weakly. “What?” His face had fallen, but Alastor couldn’t bring himself to care.
Partners? Asking for help!?
“Oh, goodness!” He hit the table. “You need me to join your team. And here I thought you might actually be approaching my level, but asking for assistance? A partnership? I am quite disappointed in you.”
“I- I just thought you know, since we're friends-”
Alastor paused. Usually, he’d laugh, and he still was, but… Vox had a point. A partnership meant equality. Equality meant he’d be tied for his role as the strongest sinner in Hell. Nulling his contract.
If Vox got powerful enough, Alastor was free. So, what should he do?
He could continue this trajectory of hurting his picture box so he’d be angry and lash out, but… Vox had so much untapped potential. Potential that needed to be channeled somewhere.
While, yes, he hated feelings, Alastor also hated ruined suits, and if Vox’s ire was turned against him, he’d have an awful lot of ruined suits. That would be… inconvenient.
Anger was easy. Channelling rage was easy, but Alastor knew Vox would be infinitely malleable in his hands if he just played this right.
Vox would be a valuable pawn, because that was all this was. Gaining a pawn to beat Rosie. Nothing more. He didn’t care for Vox, really, he didn’t.
He didn’t.
“Vincent… I thought we were already partners! Did you really need verbal confirmation?”
Vox stared blankly. “What?”
“You practically live with me, I mean!” Alastor laughed. “Did you really need me to spell it out for you?”
Vox swallowed.
“We’re partners. There, I said it. Are you happy now? Have your desires for verbal confirmation of something so obvious been satiated?”
Vox stared. “Why… Why would you laugh, then?”
“Because, my dear-”
“Why would you call me weak!?” A spark flickered on Vox’s claws. “Why would you mock me if you were gonna say yes!?”
Vox paused.
“Unless… you’re lying to me.” He realised. “You don’t actually think we’re partners. I’d be surprised if you even thought we were friends. You’re using me, aren’t you!? Am I just a pawn!?”
Vox had always been smart. Alastor cursed that fact. People were so difficult to manage. There was still ample time to take the easy route out.
“Vox, I-”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I-”
“The whole truth, Beaumont.”
Alastor winced. “Vincent. I… You’ve always been… anxious. At first, I thought you had to be joking.” He explained smoothly. “I thought you knew we were partners. Then… it was just so funny, you still needed affirmation. Like an adorable puppy.”
“Let’s make it official, then.” Vox decided. “I’ll make sure you’re telling the truth.”
“I am.” Alastor asserted.
“If I ever have any evidence you’re using me as means to an end, I get full control over how you can use your powers. In return, until that point, you get control over all of my powers.”
“That’s basically a soul.” Alastor hissed. “Vincent, you fool, you’re giving the Radio Demon your soul! That’s a death warrant at best-”
“I trust you with my future.” Vox extended a hand. “If we’re ruling Hell together, you can take more than my soul. I’ll give you my life. You can… probably handle my powers better than I can, anyways. I’m new to this. You’re… so, so smart.”
The deal should’ve been something Alastor considered more. His own powers were at risk too, after all. But, on the other hand, it would be so much easier to control Vox’s powers if he had literal control over Vox’s powers.
Vox wholeheartedly trusted him. It would be hilariously easy to hide the small caveat from him. Vox would never know. Everyone would win.
Alastor took Vox’s hand. Green and cyan shot out around the bar, bathing everyone in their demonic glows. Vox’s eyes shone with stars. Joy.
The glows subsided, and Alastor felt a whole of a lot stronger. He couldn't say the same for his partner.
Vox looked pale. “I… I don’t feel…” He trembled.
Alastor gently guided him back onto the stool. “Giving your soul away takes a lot out of you, my dear. Most pass out.”
More proof that Vox was the one who could beat him. Vox would be the one to save him.
“What… What now?”
“Now, my dear, you can become the strongest sinner in Hell. Maybe even more.”
Vox downed the rest of his drink, some awful crimson concoction that a sinner invented. He stopped shaking so much, which was a relief.
“Test it.”
“What?” Alastor frowned. “Test what, Vox?”
“The deal.” Vox was… strong. Alastor’s smile grew.
“Are you sure?”
“Are you doubting me?” Vox scoffed, fire flickering in his eyes. “Do whatever you want. I can take it.”
His magic shoved and pushed, and Vox’s eyes blew wide. He gaped.
“O-Oh. Shit…” Vox trembled.
“Try using your powers, dear.”
Vox snapped his fingers, trying to summon some electrical current. None came. He snapped again, harder. His brow furrowed.
“5% of your powers.” Alastor explained. “Let’s not test it any lower. How does it feel?”
“Like… Like I’m wearing a really heavy coat with the hood pulled up. Everything feels… muffled.”
Alastor’s magic tugged and pulled and Vox straightened back up. An arc of electricity flew between his claws, and his grin was irreplaceable.
“That’s better.” He smiled, electricity bouncing all over him like an overexcited pet.
75%. That way, Alastor would know. He’d know, when this limited version of Vox was equal to Alastor at full strength, that he could give him his full power and Alastor would be free.
It was the perfect plan. Alastor grinned.
“It’s been a long night. How about we retire? My place, of course.” Alastor offered a hand to a still-pale Vox. Vox took it without hesitation.
Oh, this would be fun.