Chapter Text
Vox sparks to life as soon as they reattach his head, blinking and looking around. That's… not what's meant to happen. They had him turned off… He shakes his head, stumbling back out of Val's grasp, electricity running over him.
"So– You working properly?" Velvette questions, phone still in hand as she watches him.
"Who are you?" Vox asks, sounding a bit panicked, the electricity crackling sharply.
Val fluffs up and looks at Velvette with worry. "That's never happened before…"
"Shit… Shit… It's okay, you know us…" Velvette tries to assure.
"I do not know you. I'm not stupid," he glares at them, sizing them up.
"I thought I did them all correctly…" Val mumbles.
"Well, who else put your head back on your body?" Velvette gestures.
"Why would I need someone to put my head back on?" He touches it. "That- what did you do?" he accuses.
"That's a story…" Velvette mumbles with annoyance.
"You tried to blow up half of Hell with angelic magic because of a deer. So I took it. No legs," Val shares.
"A deer?…"
"But it looks like someone fucked up the wiring process," Velvette accuses.
"Fuck you, I did not! I have done it for years, far longer than you have been dead!" Val snaps at her.
"Alastor…" He zaps away.
"Oh, so he remembers that!" Velvette yells, "Come on, he's going to get himself killed," she complains.
Val follows her. "Estúpido ciervo de mierda, voy a tirarlo desde un edificio, pedazo de mierda, maldito hijo de puta rojo y feo."
—
Vox doesn't go to the hotel. No, he goes to their old bar… Which has long been destroyed. Stumbling a bit as he becomes physical again. "…wha-?" He looks around. "Shit." He starts to walk home. Taking stock of what he knows. He went to bed in his house… how— he must've been drugged somehow… Some sick game by some wannabe overlords… But… He touches his head. What happened to his screen? Why is it all flat?
As he walks, he notices sinners looking at him. Just a few. A few more. A lot more… Oh shit. "VOX!!" One screams and comes running over, "I AM YOUR BIGGEST FAN! Oh my God, oh my God! Can you sign my arm!?!" They bounce and lean in close, more gathering…
Wh- oh. Oh. He smiles and takes the pen to sign them. When did he get so many fans?
"OH GOD!! I'M GETTING THIS TATTOOED!" They scream before getting trampled by others. Fans… Lots of fans… Until he notices that no. Some are mad.
"You blew up my home!" One yells. "You fucking blew up half of the block!" "Why have you been gone for this long?" "Do you plan on making a big comeback?" "Did you fuck Alastor with a chair?!?" they all pile on.
He looks confused. "Okay, I think it's time for you to leave," he says, flashing his eye. Those around him go still, just staring. Though more are coming when they see him. He needs to get home, figure out what the newspapers are just saying about him. He zaps off.
When he gets there, though, his home is… gone. Completely changed, like it wasn't there in the first place.
He stops staring at it. Wh-… What happened?… Their bar… His home… He looks around, fully taking in how different it all looks.
"Vox!" He hears the girl from earlier call to him. The moth carries her as he flies. "Don't go anywhere!"
Fuck, what do they want? He curses; he doesn't want to fucking fight these people right now, but purple devils pop up around him and wrap him in rope before he can zap off.
He grabs one of the ropes, testing it before sending a shock through it, glitching her emoji out.
"Damn it, Vox, we're trying to help you!"
"Oh yeah, the two people I've never seen before are trying to help me. Honey, you can't have been in hell very long if you think that's a good lie," he says, using his wires to dispel her magic.
She curses under her breath. "What would prove it to you then?"
"We could fuck; bet he'd remember the feel of that~," Val purrs.
"SHUT IT, VAL! This is not the time," Velvette snaps at him. "Vox, you have got to notice shit isn't what you remember."
He glances around. Hesitating for a moment.
Val lowers them down. "Look, we can help. We work together; we have for years."
He laughs.
"Yeah, I should've expected that…" she groans. She checks around before displaying pictures of them. "Look, dumb fuck, we know each other."
He looks them over and shakes his head. He needs to find Al; he would know what's going on.
"Come on, Vox, I don't want to drag you back," she sighs.
"We have contracts, ones you signed," Val offers.
He looks at the pictures again. "Where's Alastor? There are no pictures of him. If I were going to team up with anyone, it would be him. Not two random nobodies."
"Oooh… Shit… Vox, you both got into a fight. Touch your antenna," Velvette says.
He gives her a look and reaches up to touch them, flinching a bit with the crinkled one. His eyes widening.
"He did that. You both hate each other now. Come on… let's go home." She holds her hand out to him.
He shakes his head, taking a few steps back and zapping off. What time is it? Where would Al be?… He appears outside Alastor's old broadcast station. But it's gone as well. Another building takes its place. Just like the bar, just like his home. He shudders.
Cannibal town then… He would… He starts heading that way. Walking now to avoid the shakes zapping around too much can give him. Surely they won't be able to track him here. Or at least it will take them a while, and Cannibal Town will surely still be there, and Rosie will know where Alastor is.
Though he finds that he doesn't need to ask her, as not long into his walk he sees Alastor's shadow traveling along one of the walls. He smiles a bit. Oh, good. He glances around for a private place, ending up on some random sinner's balcony in an alley. And sits down to wait for him to come out and join him.
He sees Alastor's shadow again, watching from afar. Until he finally forms nearby, "Vox," he greets.
He smiles, his non-damaged antenna drooping into a relaxed position. "Hey!… You don't call me that…" He chuckles a bit.
"Oh, I do not?" He tilts his head, eyes widening. Oh… Fuck Al, that's creepy.
His smile starts to fall. "…no… I- don't think I've ever heard you call me Vox… And it's not like anyone's watching," he gestures. Even the cameras are respectfully turned away.
"What year is it?"
"I… don't know…" He wrinkles his brow; it's definitely not the time he thinks it is… he knows that for sure. "…Al our bar's not there."
"No. No it is not," he agrees, examining Vox closely.
He looks normal, well, besides that he's holding himself oddly, like he doesn't quite know whether to let his guard down or not. "What, ah… What happened to it?…"
"You destroyed it. Tore it all down, leaving only rubble. And you don't remember that; how interesting." Alastor's smile widens.
"I… What? Why—" His antenna droops again, way more expressive than it's been in years. "And my house? It's—and your radio station?"
"Gone. It's all gone. Oh, this is something," Alastor chuckles.
"…Oh… That's… Okay." His eyes flick around, trying to figure out what to do.
Alastor watches him. "Now what will you do?" He muses. No… No, he's taunting him. He looks up at him confused. No, he wouldn't, right?…
His smile doesn't look very friendly anymore… He doesn't look friendly. He looks amused. Like he's enjoying each moment of this. "Where's your little crew now, Vox?"
"W-what?… Al… This isn't funny." Vox shakes his head.
"No, no. It's hilarious! You actually broke!! Now the canon was one thing, but this, this is on a whole different level. Was it me? Was it that idiotic, mouth-breathing moth? Or maybe you just finally fully cracked on your own!" He cackles, "And you can't even remember it all! You've been regressed!"
"I…" He looks so damn hurt. "Oh…"
"And you know what I'm going to do?" Alastor leans in close. "I'm going to leave this be. I could kill you. Leave your other antenna a crinkled mess. But I think this will be even better. Goodbye, Vox," Alastor gives a finger wave before slipping into the ground.
"I—" he stares at the spot. Not moving. Wh- what was that?… Does— An illusion?… Maybe… Yeah… That— He wouldn't– A bad dream or something… He takes a breath and goes to find his cult members' houses; they'll help. They'll take him in until he can figure all this out. Though most of them are dead now. Killed by Alastor or in the exterminations. And as he searches, other sinners notice him. He has to avoid so many of them…