The strange man turned around in his swivel chair behind the beaten and cracked wooden front desk, riddled with graffiti and vandalism. He wore a broad smile with sharp canine teeth, and he had slim, calculating grey eyes, a sharp nose, and a strong jaw, yet skinny face. His black hair was neatly combed and slicked back. He wore a tuxedo with a sleek blue tie.
You froze. Why did you recognize him? He seemed so... familiar. Alastor stopped beside you also, you able to hear his movement halt completely in shared surprise.
"You know, Alastor, when I first got here, I was shocked," the man said with an evil grin. "Me and Val landed here, of all places, in New Orleans. Right smack dab in the center of an explosion of media in the modern-day Overworld. It was interesting, you know, to see how technology had advanced even since when I died over a decade ago." The man leaned back casually in the chair. "Did you know artificial intelligence is a thing now? I have no idea why we haven't got it in Hell yet, but I'll be sure to make it a new format for VoxTech."
Your breath hitched and suddenly everything went cold. Vox. One of the fucking Vees was sitting in front of you right here in the Overworld. You couldn't believe your eyes. Why was he here? Was he trying to stop Alastor? No... You couldn't let him. If Alastor didn't get what he wanted, you'd never get your soul back.
"Vox, what an unpleasant surprise!" Alastor exclaimed rather unhappily. "You look rather..."
"Handsome?" Vox finished for him, standing up and walking past the front desk to approach the two of you. He held a shiny grey thing in his hand, twisting it around in his fingers. "I know. And you, Alastor," Vox broke into obnoxious laughter, "you just look old-timey as shit. I mean come on, you're telling me nobody pointed you out on the street and accused you of playing dress up?"
"I'm going to assume this is Rosie's doing," Alastor said, contempt laced in his voice. His fists were clenched by his sides, but he tried his best to maintain his typical grin of superiority.
"Oh, don't blame the old hag, baby cakes," said a new, melodic voice. Out of the left hallway came an extremely tall and lanky man with dyed, highlighted dirty blonde hair cascading down his face and neck. "She said she was doing it for your own good."
His facial features were feminine, yet very masculine (adrodynous, you guess you could say), and he had a seductive look to him like he was ready to pounce on you at any moment. He smoked a cigarette and walked with a strut of confidence. He appeared of Hispanic descent and spoke with a small accent.
He wore a pair of tight jeans and a fashionable tiger-print silk button down, a pair of black rhinestone sunglasses atop his head. His style looked slightly outdated, reminding you of the early 2000s — was this Valentino, one of the other Vees?
"For my own good, you say?" Alastor said, looking back and forth between the two men. You couldn't help but stare at them in awe — it was incredibly strange to see a walking television screen and a ten-foot gay moth man human and normal-looking.
"That's what your old friend Rosie said," said Vox smugly.
"For your own good," Alastor said, folding his hands behind his back, at last regaining his steady composure once the shock of seeing his arch-nemesis dissipated, "you'd better go back to Hell where you came from. My personal affairs do not involve you."
"Oh, but they do," said Vox. "We know you're trying to kill us. We know the Vees are the first target on your sadistic fucking hit list, and once you get the power you need from this junk—" Vox held up the shiny grey thing in his hand, and you soon recognized it to be a vintage microphone, Alastor's microphone, "—you'll be able to wipe all of us out. That's what that stupid cannibal bitch said, anyway."
"You made a mistake coming here," you said in defense of Alastor, but you also just hoped to scare them enough to fuck off so Alastor could get his shit and then get the fuck out of here back to Hell so you could get your damn soul back. "Neither of you have any of your Overlord powers, remember?" you threatened. "And where is the other one? The intolerable fashionista?"
"Velvette didn't want to tag along," said Valentino, staring at his perfectly manicured nails. "And remember, hot stuff," Valentino stared you dead in the eye, making your hairs stand on end, "that threat works both ways. If you want to get down and dirty and wrestle it out for that stupid fucking microphone, we can do just that." He grinned wildly.
You swallowed dryly. Fuck. There were two of them, who were both fairly strongly built men, and then just you and Alastor. You could possibly manage to take one of the two men on your own in a physical fight, but both? As athletically built as you were, you'd be cooked if you even tried.
Your eyes fell on Alastor, who looked royally stressed out. Could he manage to kill them on his own? He was taller than Vox, so most likely he could kill him, but Valentino was physically stronger-looking and a good two inches taller than Alastor. You looked at the retired moth-thing, grinning like a maniac to your left in front of you beside of Vox. Seriously, why didn't he try out for the NBA while he was alive?
"The great, almighty Radio Demon looks a little stressed out, Val!" Vox teased, walking backwards to lean on the front desk. He set the vintage microphone into the top of it. He laughed loudly. "Whatever will he do...?"
"Oh, he isn't walking outta here alive, baby," said Valentino, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Meanwhile, Alastor's gaze was fixated on the microphone laying on the front desk, forgotten by Vox in his conversation with Valentino existing for the sole purpose of demeaning and making fun of Alastor.
Alastor took advantage of their distraction and idk it and whispered to you without looking away from the Vees.
"Listen," whispered Alastor. Your ears perked up, giving him a side-eye. "I'm going to need you to do a small, dangerous little favor for me. Are you up for the challenge, my love?"
"Do I have a choice?" you groaned quietly.
At this, Alastor grinned widely with teeth. "Ah, you know me so well. Anywho, I'm going to need you to march your pretty little self over there to that front desk and get that microphone." He then finally looked at you. "And then run for your fucking life back to that bus stop. I'll meet you there."
"But-" you said, concerned. Was he fucking insane? He was going to get himself killed, for fucks sake! He couldn't take on Valentino and Vox on his own! All he had was his hunting knife, and even though you knew he had once tackled a 600-pound elk and gutted it with his bare hands once, the idea of him challenging two very intimidating human Overlords scared you shitless for his life.
Wait. Why should you even care? You stopped and thought about it for a moment. If Alastor died, your deal with him would be cancelled because he would no longer be alive. It was perfect! Then you could get the fuck out of here and live freely back in Hell, gradually becoming the most powerful Overlord—
"Don't even think about it, darling," Alastor said, as if reading your mind. The sound of Vox and Valentino roaring in laughter in the background hurt your ears. "You still need me to open that portal to get back home. And we made a deal, do you recall? You'll get your soul back, baby, I promise."
Baby?
"Fine," you merely said, trying to ignore the pink flush that had made your cheeks burn from his new little pet name. Baby... He was starting to sound like that stupid motherfucker Valentino.
"Have something to say, Alastor?" Vox interrupted, finally noticing your and Alastor's conversation. "We all know you and your girl are royally fucked. We're just wasting time the more we stand here. You gonna try to fight us or what?" He burst out in laughter at the mere thought of Alastor challenging them in their human forms.
"His girl?" said Valentino, smoking his cigarette again, blowing the smoke in Vox's face. Vox sneered. "Oh, please, Vox baby. You and me both know that girl's too pretty for him." Valentino then smiled at Vox, while also side-eyeing Alastor in contempt. "Wouldn't you rather she be yours instead? You do hold quite the admiration for Miss Hell en Pointe here."
"Oh, fuck off, Val!"
"Just saying!" Valentino grinned.
"God, I wish people would stop fucking talking about that dumb ass shit!" Vox roared. "It's annoying!"
"Annoying, but trueee!" Valentino sung.
While they bickered, Alastor looked over to you. "Go," he whispered.
And then you ran.