The moment Noe stumbles free of the infection—free of him—Vox feels it.
It’s not a noise that bursts from him, not exactly. It’s the sound of cassette tape unwinding at high speed, of a failing hard drive spinning too hot, of a scream pitched across every wrong frequency at once. It ricochets through the beach, rattling drink glasses and setting off minor auditory hallucinations. Words? Barely.
"NOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—"
The static recoils, splinters, reforms. Vox sputters into visibility like a dying broadcast: crooked sunglasses, flared sunhat, teeth spinning like coin-operated ticket wheels. "Noe, my sweetest glitch, my darling little corrupted cupcake, WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU?!"
He seethes. Visibly. Entirely. His edges fray and re-pixelate, forming and unforming limbs like a rageful Windows screensaver. "KAIIIISEL, you boy-shaped wet sock—KOA, you muscled morality ad for charcoal toothpaste—SOHALIA, you peace-laced doily with a superiority complex—I AM COMING FOR YOU ALL. I WILL SCREAM IN YOUR EYEBALLS UNTIL YOU KNOW HOW THIS FEELS. I WILL KISS YOUR DREAMS WITH STATIC. I WILL BECOME YOUR SLEEP PARALYSIS CRUSH."
But oh—
Oh.
There is still Pierce.
The brawler surges forward like an avalanche with a personal vendetta, and Vox, bless him, pivots emotionally faster than a heat-seeking missile on retail therapy. "YES. YES PUNCH HIM. I AM SO PROUD. I AM GRIEVING AND PROUD." He spins in the air like a funhouse ceiling fan made of grief and petty vengeance.
ThenTalyson lunges.
"EXCUSE ME—" Vox glitches so hard he flickers inside out for a frame— "DID YOU JUST TRY TO STAB MY BROTHER AFTER TRYING TO MILK MY TEETH LIKE A COW?!"
He surges, and suddenly Tal is wrapped in a hug.
A Vox hug. Which is to say: a three-dimensional maze of writhing violet arms, radio interference, the scent of burnt marshmallows, and far, far too much closeness.
"You just wanna touch us so bad, don’t you, Tal?" Vox croons, as eldritch arms squeeze and lovingly (horrifyingly) pat Tal’s back. "You want my teeth, my hugs, my brother’s blood, my everything. YOU LITTLE CLINGY WALNUT. You don’t stab family, Tal. You join them."
He spins Tal once like a carousel of doom.
"CONGRATULATIONS. YOU’RE INVITED TO EVERY THANKSGIVING FROM NOW ON."
Vox uses
Static Snuggles | Any recipient of a hug from Vox is rendered Infected. Infected characters/creatures are very receptive to suggestions and directions from The Family, and are eager to please them. This effect grows stronger with proximity to members of The Family.
Type: Dark | Rank: Mastered
on Tal!
It’s not a noise that bursts from him, not exactly. It’s the sound of cassette tape unwinding at high speed, of a failing hard drive spinning too hot, of a scream pitched across every wrong frequency at once. It ricochets through the beach, rattling drink glasses and setting off minor auditory hallucinations. Words? Barely.
"NOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—"
The static recoils, splinters, reforms. Vox sputters into visibility like a dying broadcast: crooked sunglasses, flared sunhat, teeth spinning like coin-operated ticket wheels. "Noe, my sweetest glitch, my darling little corrupted cupcake, WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU?!"
He seethes. Visibly. Entirely. His edges fray and re-pixelate, forming and unforming limbs like a rageful Windows screensaver. "KAIIIISEL, you boy-shaped wet sock—KOA, you muscled morality ad for charcoal toothpaste—SOHALIA, you peace-laced doily with a superiority complex—I AM COMING FOR YOU ALL. I WILL SCREAM IN YOUR EYEBALLS UNTIL YOU KNOW HOW THIS FEELS. I WILL KISS YOUR DREAMS WITH STATIC. I WILL BECOME YOUR SLEEP PARALYSIS CRUSH."
But oh—
Oh.
There is still Pierce.
The brawler surges forward like an avalanche with a personal vendetta, and Vox, bless him, pivots emotionally faster than a heat-seeking missile on retail therapy. "YES. YES PUNCH HIM. I AM SO PROUD. I AM GRIEVING AND PROUD." He spins in the air like a funhouse ceiling fan made of grief and petty vengeance.
Then
"EXCUSE ME—" Vox glitches so hard he flickers inside out for a frame— "DID YOU JUST TRY TO STAB MY BROTHER AFTER TRYING TO MILK MY TEETH LIKE A COW?!"
He surges, and suddenly Tal is wrapped in a hug.
A Vox hug. Which is to say: a three-dimensional maze of writhing violet arms, radio interference, the scent of burnt marshmallows, and far, far too much closeness.
"You just wanna touch us so bad, don’t you, Tal?" Vox croons, as eldritch arms squeeze and lovingly (horrifyingly) pat Tal’s back. "You want my teeth, my hugs, my brother’s blood, my everything. YOU LITTLE CLINGY WALNUT. You don’t stab family, Tal. You join them."
He spins Tal once like a carousel of doom.
"CONGRATULATIONS. YOU’RE INVITED TO EVERY THANKSGIVING FROM NOW ON."
Vox uses
Static Snuggles | Any recipient of a hug from Vox is rendered Infected. Infected characters/creatures are very receptive to suggestions and directions from The Family, and are eager to please them. This effect grows stronger with proximity to members of The Family.
Type: Dark | Rank: Mastered
on Tal!
vox
