Infernal Rivalry - The Clash Of Vox And Alastor

Chapter 5 : Appearances

(Vox's POV)

As we make our way from the kitchen to the cozy living room of Alastor's house, a sense of unease gnaws at me. Faced with the prospect of being without shelter in the unforgiving streets of Hell, I feel a twinge of anxiety. As we settle onto the sofa, the worn cushions offering a semblance of comfort, I can't shake the worry that tugs at the edges of my mind. Where will I go tonight? The thought lingers like a Specter, haunting me with its relentless persistence. Alastor notices the furrow of concern on my brow and smiles, changes to a sympathetic one. "Is everything alright, Kid?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. I hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to voice my worries to my newfound acquaintance. But then, with a resigned sigh, I decide to confide in him. "I'm... I'm not sure" I admit, my voice laced with uncertainty. "I... I don't have a place to stay tonight". His eyes widen in surprise, a flicker of realization crossing his features. "I see", he says, nodding thoughtfully. "Well, my friend. I have a spare room, if you'd like to stay with me". I blind in surprise at his offer, touched by his generosity. "Are you sure?" I ask, unable to mask the gratitude in my voice. He waves off my concerns with a dismissive gesture, "Of course" he replies with a warm smile. "I don't have company often, but it would be nice to have somebody to share the space with for a change". His words fill me with a sense of relief, and I find myself smiling in return. "Thank you, Alastor" I say sincerely. "I truly appreciate it... it's been a rough day, and your hospitality means a lot to me".

We are hanging in the living room; I notice Alastor's shadow taking a keen interest in me. it hovers nearby, its form flickering with curiosity as it observes me closely. Occasionally, its clawed hand reaches out to touch my screen, as if trying to understand the unique features of my Tv head. Alastor seems slightly embarrassed by his shadow's behaviour, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he watches the silent interaction between us. "My apologies, Vox", he says, his voice flushed with chagrin. "My shadow has a mind of its own. It seems to be rather fascinated by you". I offer him a reassuring smile, trying to ease his discomfort. "It's quite alright, Alastor" I reply, my voice filled with understanding. "I find it rather intriguing, actually". He nods, though there is still a hint of unease in his eyes.  "Yes, well, it does have its own free will" he admits, "And it's clearly taken quite a liking to you". As we continue to chat, his shadow remains close by, its silent presence adding an eerie yet strangely comforting atmosphere to the room. Alastor get's up and goes into the kitchen, leaving me and his shadow.

He returns with drinks in hand, his shadow remains steadfast by my side, its silent presence adding an intriguing dynamic to our gathering. Alastor sets the glasses down on the coffee table, the clink of ice against glass breaking the quiet of the room. "Here you go" he says with a warm smile, handing me a glass of whisky with ice. "Thank you" I reply, taking the glass with a nod of appreciation. The amber liquid glistens in the dim light, we sip our drinks and settle back into conversation. His shadow continues to hover nearby, its form flickering. Despite Alastor's occasional glances in its direction, the shadow remains a silent observer. I smile, taking another sip of whisky as I contemplate the enigmatic nature of his shadow.

"Alastor" I begin, "Can your shadow communicate in any way?". He considers my question for a moment before shaking his head slowly. "No, not in the traditional sense" he replies, his tone thoughtful. "My shadow can't speak or convey complex thoughts. Its communication is limited to its facial expressions and body language. I have an understanding with it, as it is an extension of me, I can communicate with it". I nod in understanding, intrigued by this revelation. "So, the blue eyes and smile can show more than just happiness?" I ask, eager to learn more about the capabilities of his shadow. Almost on cue, the shadow scowls at me, its expression changing. Alastor watches his shadow, a hint of pride in his voice. "Indeed" he says, "The expressions of my shadow can vary, as you can see. The smile, for example can twists into a frown if the situation calls for it. It's quite... versatile, in its own way". I find myself marvelling at the intricacies of Alastor's shadow, a silent companion with the ability to convey emotions in ways that words cannot. Despite its limitations, there's a sense of depth to its expressions, a silent language that speaks volumes.