Vox sat back into the seat of his limo, relieved when the door finally swung shut beside him. He rubbed his eyes slowly and looked out the tinted window on his right, only to be blinded by flashing lights. Grunting in annoyance he turned away again. Paparazzi, even in hell they were like vultures, constantly circling around anyone famous and wearing them down piece by piece. He had just exited the studio after his interview with Vince Vicarious when said vultures swarmed him on the way to his limousine. After a lot of fake smiles and waves, and a few fatal shocks, he thought he had escaped them when he sat down; clearly the deaths of a couple of them didn't deter the mob. Sliding his hand down beside him, he took the seat next to him and flipped it up, revealing a metal panel with five circular holes. He took his right hand and extended his fingers out, causing them to collapse and dangle like individual chains. Weaving cables between the links that were his fingers they turned into makeshift tentacles, which he then placed into the holes, connecting him to the limo with a jolt.
He groaned as he felt himself connecting to the vehicle; it had been a while since he'd done this, Valentino hated it the first time he saw Vox control his limo. "I'm not going to ride next to you while you finger your car, get a driver like a normal person for fucks sake." It was ridiculous looking back at it, but Valentino always was high strung and demanding. He didn't step aside for anybody, and while there were many in Hell like that, none of them were overlords; which made him a cut above the rest, and them the perfect power couple. Well, when they were a couple.
"Get me the fuck outta here," Vox muttered. The car came to life and immediately drove off, ignoring the paparazzi standing in front of the car. After a couple of bumps and pained screams, the road smoothened out, and Vox heaved a sigh and guided the limo back home. As the car moved in silence, he looked around the interior of the vehicle absentmindedly. It was pretty standard as limos go, seats in the back and sides of the limo, with the driver's seat sectioned off from sight. There was, however, no liquor, Vox's condition of not having an actual mouth or body meant he couldn't process foods or drinks of any kind. He could simulate them if he wanted to, and he does, but even then it felt redundant. Instead the limo had a maxed out entertainment system attached to the wall between the backseat and drivers seat. A television took up the entire wall, with speakers lining the upper corners of the vehicle stretching from front to back. He liked this set-up and would use it often to catch on the events of Hell during drives, like he did before the interview.
As he sat there he felt his head shake, and he glanced to the top right of his screen-head and saw a phone icon. He already knew who it was from. "Big screen," he said, and the icon left his face as the television in the limo lit up, cutting to a live video of Valentino. From the sight of the city skyline behind him, Vox could tell he was sitting in his usual office at the top of the porn studios. Pinkish-red smoke filtered around him, obscuring parts of his face. Except for his eyes which, Vox could also tell, were angry.
Vox put on a smile, "Val, babe, how have you been? It's been so long since we've seen each other. Did you get a haircut? Looks great."
Valentino continued to silently glare at the screen, then he said, "If this is your way of making up Voxy," he said, spitting venom as he uttered his name, "you're doing a piss-poor job of it. And wipe that smile off your screen you prick."
Vox's smile vanished, "We really doing this? Come on, you can't still be upset over last night. Is this about the interview?"
"Gee, I don't know, telling all of Hell one of its overlords is overdramatic sure as shit isn't doing me any favors. Bad enough one of my own employees had to embarrass me on live television, let alone you. You aren't the only overlord with a reputation to upkeep." Valentino's hand moved to his mouth, in it was a cigarette. He drew in a breath, then blew it out, clearing the smoke just enough so his whole face was visible. "So yeah, it's about the interview. What the hell were you even doing on some nobody's talk show anyways?"
Vox raised the arm not hooked into the car with a shrug, "I was bored and I wanted to be on a show that I didn't host, figured it would be interesting. Hang on," Vox made a stopping motion with his hand, "what were you doing watching some nobody's talk show?"
Valentino grew silent for a moment, looking away slightly. Then he muttered, "I saw an ad that you were going to be on there."
Vox's smile returned to his screen, "Awww, so you do miss me."
"Don't patronize me you smug bastard, I'm still upset at you," Valentino said sternly, pointing at the screen.
"I'm sure you are babe. Anyways, what's this about your employees? Trouble at the office?" Vox asked.
"Just the usual one, he'd be long dead if he didn't make me money," Valentino responded.
"Oh, him. You're still upset about that? Most people have forgotten by now, I made sure of that just for you."
"Yeah well I didn't, getting into wide-scale turf wars when it isn't his fucking job is bad enough, but to do it with that scalie loser? Embarrassing. I already made sure he won't forget it either." Valentino took another drag from his cigarette, "He's still being a good little worker for now, but I know where to find him if he tries that shit again."
"You always take care of it Val, and you know where I am if he ever needs that extra… kick," sparks flew from his unoccupied hand.
Valentino laughed darkly, "Was that an attempt at getting on my good side? It's better than your opener, I'll give you that." Valentino snuffed out the cigarette on the desk and placed his head in one hand, looking at the screen waiting to hear more. Vox had his attention.
"I just love when you get sadistic babe, you don't take shit you give it. Nobody does anything to you unless you want them to, and the things you let me do to you…" Vox trailed off, chuckling to himself.
In the dissipating smoke he could see Valentino's eyes widen, "Voxy…" was all he said.
"I know you miss me Val, you wouldn't be calling otherwise. And to be honest, I miss you too. I'll apologize for how I talked about you on the show but I wouldn't have even been there if I wasn't so bored-"
"Oh so it's my fault then?" Valentino asked, his eyes slightly narrowing back into a frown.
"That's not what I meant!" Vox said quickly. Recovering, he continued, "I just mean without you, I do the dumbest shit to get your attention. You aren't the problem, but us splitting up is. Every time this happens that's always been the problem."
Valentino smirked, "Smooth Vox, very smooth." His expression returned to a pleased demeanor. "But I'm not one for sappy romantic crap, keep going."
Vox's smile widened, "Oh I know, you've expressed loudly multiple times before what you really like. If we just cut this bullshit of constant breakups my fingers could be put to use elsewhere than inside this car."
Valentino again interrupted Vox, "Oh for fucks sake, I should've known that's what you were doing when I could only see one hand. Why do you insist on doing that? It's fuckin' weird."
"We've been over this, I don't like relying on other people! Why should I get a driver when I can drive the car perfectly fine by myself?!" Vox halted his annoyed outburst before it went too far. Exhaling out a sigh, he massaged his monitor annoyingly, "Can we… can we just get back to talking about how I'm going to dick you down?"
"You could be less blunt about it," Valentino replied. He drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment, the audio coming clear through Vox's limousine television, thinking. "For someone who's on tv as much as you are, you're terrible at using your words."
"So what does that mean?" Vox asked.
"It means I want you to shut up," Valentino said, annoyed. Sighing, he continued, "But you have a point, I really miss those hands, among other parts." Valentino went silent again, prompting Vox to say something.
"So… what does that mean?" he repeated himself.
Valentino rolled his eyes, "It means I'll see you tomorrow, you oblivious ass."
"I know, I just wanted to hear you say it," Vox said tauntingly.
"Do you want me to come back or don't you?" Valentino glowered.
"Yes, of course, em, sorry," Vox stuttered sheepishly.
Valentino tsked, "Why I put up with you I'll never know." He said, shaking his head and pulling out another cigarette from somewhere off-screen.
Vox leaned in with a sly smile, "Because deep down you love me."
Valentino laughed mockingly, "Actually, I love your dick, don't get that confused. That, and you always come crawling back to me."
"Funny, last I checked you called me," Vox retorted.
Valentino stopped midway through lighting his cigarette. "Yeah… well…" he looked around trying to find a good comeback, not finding one he continued, "you would've called me first if I didn't. Whatever, I'll see you tomorrow you cocky bastard." He put the now-lit cigarette into his mouth and he picked up a remote, pointing it towards the screen and causing the feed to go dark, ending the call.
Vox leaned back with a face of smug self-satisfaction. "Yeah, he loves me. Guess now we see how long this new relationship lasts," he said to himself. The limo was once again silent. Vox looked down out of the corner of his eye to his other hand, still hooked to the limo. Looking back up he hmphed and muttered, "It's not weird."
-Elsewhere-
In a room partially lit by the fireplace contained within, Alastor sat comfortably in a large chair, watching the fire. The room itself was related to the other project he spoke of earlier. The room wasn't very big, outfitted with a substandard bed, that his microphone was currently laying on, and a phone that didn't work, not that he would have used it if it did. Beside him was a small coffee table where a cup of tea and an antique radio sat. The curtains were drawn over the windows that looked out over the landscape towards Pentagram City. He liked the minimal amount of light the fire gave him; that and the shadows he possessed felt more comfortable in the dark. One of which he was waiting to hear back from.
As if by coincidence, the radio started crackling to life, without any input from Alastor. "Speak my friend, is the stage set?"
The radio continued to crackle for a second, then it began to change through channels, the needle moving back and forth through the AM and FM. Bit by bit, as it changed channels, words came through forming a disjointed yet coherent sentence taken from bits of different radio stations.
"Breaking news today… Smile Killer… is heading straight for… Vox Movie Productions… coming soon!"
Alastor's smile grew slightly, "Excellent work. No doubt he has an idea of our involvement, to what extent I'm not sure, but we'll worry about that later. For now you continue to follow him, when he gets to Vox let me know. I want to be present for what comes next. If things go according to plan, we can finally finish what we started so long ago."
The radio crackled again as it changed channels, playing canned audience cheering and clapping. "I understand your excitement friend," Alastor said, holding a hand up to the radio to shush it, "but let's not count our chickens just yet-"
A voice from outside cut Alastor off, "Hey Alastor? We could really use your help out here, if, yknow, you want to? I know we didn't shake on it but you agreed to help and all…"
Alastor rolled his eyes, "I suppose I'll see what Charlie wants me to do." He got up from the seat, summoning his microphone to his hand with a puff of smoke and a flick of his wrist. He walked over to the door, stopped, then turned back to the radio, "Remember, as soon as possible." Then he opened the door and walked through, while the radio shut off behind him.