It was definitely awkward supporting Angel this way. It wasn't terrible, but...how could that possibly be comfortable? After all, Alastor's antlers had to be poking Angel.
Vox shook his head. "Don't take it the wrong way. I'm not helping you. I'm trying to get rid of him." Vox pointed at Alastor who gave an unrepentant, feral grin. "Like I said, it's not the real deal, but it'll at least let him finagle a way around the terms so at least this bullshit won't happen again. At least for a while." The TV demon looked to Alastor warily. "'Cause sooner or later you're gonna come for Val anyway, aren't you?"
"Possibly!" Alastor chirped.
"I can't let you do that."
"We'll see." Alastor reached out to take the copy of the contract, tucking it neatly into his jacket. "But as for your terms, I'll let you call this a draw. I really don't care either way on that front. I'll even set things right. Save one thing."
"What is it?"
Alastor pointed.
Vox followed Alastor's finger to where a rather prominent deer skull hung over Valentino's "throne". It was like planting a flag...or perhaps a constant reminder of the guillotine poised over the moth's throat. Regardless, it would be visible to everyone in the club every time the lights came on, a grim reminder that even though it was officially called a draw, Alastor had won the altercation.
"...Tacky but fine. Once the signals are back up, I'll call a car to take you both back to the hotel."
"Good man!" Alastor snapped his fingers, doing exactly as he agreed. Every cellphone in the building went off as Alastor relinquished his hold on the necessary frequencies. He looked to Angel. "Come along, my dear. Let's get you back so you can rest, hmm?"
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Vox shook his head. "Don't take it the wrong way. I'm not helping you. I'm trying to get rid of him." Vox pointed at Alastor who gave an unrepentant, feral grin. "Like I said, it's not the real deal, but it'll at least let him finagle a way around the terms so at least this bullshit won't happen again. At least for a while." The TV demon looked to Alastor warily. "'Cause sooner or later you're gonna come for Val anyway, aren't you?"
"Possibly!" Alastor chirped.
"I can't let you do that."
"We'll see." Alastor reached out to take the copy of the contract, tucking it neatly into his jacket. "But as for your terms, I'll let you call this a draw. I really don't care either way on that front. I'll even set things right. Save one thing."
"What is it?"
Alastor pointed.
Vox followed Alastor's finger to where a rather prominent deer skull hung over Valentino's "throne". It was like planting a flag...or perhaps a constant reminder of the guillotine poised over the moth's throat. Regardless, it would be visible to everyone in the club every time the lights came on, a grim reminder that even though it was officially called a draw, Alastor had won the altercation.
"...Tacky but fine. Once the signals are back up, I'll call a car to take you both back to the hotel."
"Good man!" Alastor snapped his fingers, doing exactly as he agreed. Every cellphone in the building went off as Alastor relinquished his hold on the necessary frequencies. He looked to Angel. "Come along, my dear. Let's get you back so you can rest, hmm?"