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"There are no friends in hell Vincent Populi, I thought you knew that!"
Well Alastor did not necessarily sleep for any long periods of time. He'd found that out long ago that it just felt unnatural. No, he caught sleep in random moments ominously standing in the dark corners of the hotel. Assuming Nifty wasn't busy cleaning them. So despite the fact that he had a few too many fingers and Vox's face was blurry? Well that's weird but excusable. However as soon as he says those words... Were those even the right words? Why doesn't Vox look distraught? He should be distraught. And then-
"Well, whatever. I'm too much of a high value male for you anyways. I only gave you a chance because I felt bad."
Okay something was definitely wrong here. He raises an eyebrow, looking for a hidden camera. Alastor knew this was a dream. Nonetheless this felt like a practical joke concocted by some new age influencer.
"What."
"Well Alastor Altruist, allow me to enlighten your simple female mind. I'm an alpha male. I provide for you, and I bring a lot to the table. But you? You're an ugly skank. A two at most. I just felt sorry for you!"
"??"
"I hope you cry. That's what you deserve for taking advantage of a nice gentleman like me. I was gonna pay for your tab!"
Alastor contemplates arguing back before he realises responding is pointless. Not that he knows how to go about it. What did half of that even mean? Alpha male?? Like in mathematics? He wasn't even going to start questioning why he was a woman in this dream. Or why Altruistic was his last name now. Alastor resolvs to look into how to properly control lucid dreams when he wakes. But for now, he would simply go elsewhere in the dreamscape. At least (to his brief delight) Alastor finds that he can actually scowl. Vox truly is a petulant child. Yet somehow he prefers the real version. He stands up, turning away. He refuses to entertain the other man even in dreams.
"... I'm leaving you to your- whatever this tantrum of yours is."
"No you're not you whore!"
Or at least he attempts to. Alastor quickly finds that he cannot move away in any capacity, his feet glued to the floor in.. fear? This is just a dream. A really stupid dream. Why-? Even that statement from Vox is just factually incorrect. Is this version of the tv head lobotomised, maybe? Alastor squints, lips curling in distaste. Well if he couldn't move away, he would more towards Vox instead. The little shit should prepare to catch these hands. Even without powers he would absolutely strange the life out of Vox right now.
"Maybe I'm not leaving. But you will be sorry for existing in the same time period as me."
Before he can do more than form a fist, Velvette steps out from behind a chair??What the actual fuckery is this. Alastor looks around bewildered, jumping like he got burned when she put a hand on his shoulder from behind. Velvette sways her hair majestically, throwing Vox to the ground in one clean kick.
It's never okay to harass women!"
She shatters his screen with her heel. She stands, pleased with herself as Alastor gets progressively more bewildered. He finds he can move again and takes the opportunity to step back. Deciding to sit back down into his seat upon feeling faint all of a sudden.
"Not a woman."
Alastor barely manages to get out before Valentino steps out from behind Velvette. The radio demon decides to simply stop questioning it. Both Valentino and Velvette smugly hold up their phones, which have apparently been recording this whole time.
"Thats right! You're going to jail buddy! We have allllll the evidence."
Why is he being tortured by so many people with no hair? For the first time in a long time the radio demon finds no clever quip. No, he shouldn't even dignify this fever dream with a response. He instead looks back over at Vox. The man is laying on his back, screen shattered. Seems like the voice box is intact though. Much to everyone else's misfortune. Vox points an accusing finger at the other Vees, sparks flying. He spits towards Alastor and the radio demon feels yet more disgust. Struggling very hard to remind himself that this was simply a dream.
"Of course you're defending Alastor, the fridge always protects the snacks!"
Valentino pulls out fluffy pink handcuffs, which honestly seems like the only thing this dream got remotely close to the real people. He puts them on the still writhing and screaming Vox. Velvette puts yet another dent into the tv, which would usually be pleasing if not for the cistumstances. Alastor genuinely shudders a little at the genuine earnestness coming from both of the Vees. Valentino smiles at him and salutes, before they both pick up Vox and begin to carry him away like luggage.
"Don't worry Ms Altruist, we've got you! We're gonna teach this guy a real lessons."
Alastor already knew about many of the issues women dealt with. For one he is in hell. But even before his death he could sympathise with his mother at least. Now he feels like his heart had grown three sizes for all women everywhere. Was this some new form of hell? Alastor finds that he could barely form a response at all. He hopes that his subconscious mind takes the hint that this dream should be concluding immediately.
"Thank you."
Alastor drawls, not sounding in the least thankful. He looks down at his hands. Would doing anything else contribute to another plot point in this nightmare? Maybe. Best to bore himself awake. Alastor tightens his grip on a glass he did not have. The gesture does nothing to soothe him.
"FUCK YOU BITCH YOU'RE PROBABLY GOING TO GO SUCK OFF FIVE OTHER GUYS AFTER THIS!"
He looks up, and the moment he makes eye contact with Vox something collides into his eye. Velvette's heel, maybe? Or a thrown glass? It doesn't matter. This dream has the consistency of sa victim representation in Hazbin Hotel. Everything is dark. Alastor curses, because despite everything being a dark void now he can only see one thing. The image of Vox's-.. No. Vincent's upset face. The man stands above him. Alastor is laying on his back, looking at that once endearing face. This looks... more real. Vox looks down upon Alastor, unmoving except for the cables slowly winding around the radio demon. Alastor tries to speak, to move, anything- but all he can do is look the consequences of his actions directly in the eyes. One of the cables winds its way around his foot. Squeezing tighter and tighter and-
"Hey! Hey!! Move your shoe!"
Alastor wakes an immediately has to suppress a jolt. He looks down, genuinely smiling when he finds that Nifty is the only one around. She's holding a duster in her hands. Shoving at his shoe until he politely steps aside. Despite his foot probably being bruised, he finds himself not caring about it at all. With how pleased he is not even Lucifer would be able to break the good mood. Okay, maybe that was hyperbole. Nonetheless he unnecessarily dusts off his coat before melting into the shadows once again.
"Apologies dear, you have your fun. I'll see you later."