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Vox fought a groan as he woke up. He had a missed email already, despite waking up probably too early. He dismissed it for now. Whoever it was could wait five minutes.
He went through the arduous task of getting dressed, loathing the zipper hidden on the back of his shirt. Another email pinged in. Groaning, he checked it, ready to shoot whoever it was.
From @Ethan.Assist
To @VoxTekFounder
Subject: Weather report
Dear Mr Vox,
Our weatherman killed himself early this morning, and we can't find anyone to fill his role. All the other actors have other things they need to do, and we desperately need someone to fill the slot. You don't have any appointments this morning, and we've exhausted any other opportunities. If you would rather cancel the segment, that's completely alright.
-Ethan Nakamura, VoxTek secretary
Vox stared at his screen. He rubbed his eyes. Stared again. Called Ethan.
Ethan picked up immediately.
“Sir, I-”
“Nobody else is available?” Vox groaned.
“We checked, sorry sir. I know with your past, it could bring back bad memories, but…”
“It's prime time television that nearly every resident of Hell tunes into. VoxTek Weather reports on weather throughout the seven rings. We'd lose massive amounts of money.”
“Exactly, sir.”
Vox inspected his claws. He wasn't exactly unfamiliar with the role. “The weatherman, the one who killed himself?”
“Yes?”
“Put him on Valentino's stress relief list- actually, scratch that. Put him on that list as well as the willing volunteers for if one of his goes missing.”
Ethan chuckled. “Of course, sir. Is that a yes or no?”
“I'll be your weatherman. Don't get used to this.” Vox sighed, finishing pulling on his suit.
“Sir?” Ethan's voice was undeniably excited.
“I'm an excellent actor, Nakamura. I can play the role of weatherman, even if it is far below my pay grade. Have a coffee waiting for me at the set in five.”
“Of course, sir! It's going to be enthralling to see you the same way Earth did!”
Vox rolled his eyes. “Nobody can know that, remember?”
“I remember. Still… it's exciting to see how your career began.”
“Remain professional, please.” Vox sighed. “I'll see you on set.”
“Yes, sir!”
He hung up the call, walked calmly over to his bed and grabbed a pillow. Vox glanced at it before burying his face in it, screaming until his throat hurt.
There. That was much better.
Vox snapped his fingers, transforming into a sliver of electricity. He darted through the camera systems, materialising by Ethan.
“Ah, sir.” Ethan handed him his coffee. He downed it. “You look great!”
“Of course. I know how to be ready for air.”
Ethan nodded excitedly. Back on earth, Ethan had been one of his biggest fans. He was shaking in his boots, quivering from excitement. Vox fought another eye roll.
“You look perfect, sir.”
“How long until we're live?” Vox glanced over at the set. The weather was all laid out clearly enough he didn't need to memorise a script. Good. He preferred improv.
“Ten minutes.”
Vox finished his coffee, tossing it into a trash can. Ethan's eyes practically had stars in them.
Taking a deep breath, Vox summoned his pointer, the recreation of the one from his life.
“Woah…”
“I used the original to kill a man.” Vox casually mentioned. The lightning bolt drew a small smile. Vox really never changed, did he?
That was ridiculous. Of course, Vox had changed.
He made his way to the set, scanning the weather patterns behind him.
“On in five…” Ethan murmured excitedly. Vox really wasn't sure why he'd hired him.
He made himself slightly more comfortable, standing straight and tall with his pointer resting on the floor. It was muscle memory.
“Cameras rolling in three… two…”
“Good morning Hell!” Vox beamed, already in showman mode. “Our usual weatherman unfortunately couldn't make it due to personal issues, so today I'll be talking about our weather. And oh boy, is today a day with weather to talk about! Why, if I was the weatherman and I saw all of this-” He gestured at the board- “I'd kill myself too!”
The studio audience laughed. Vox's grin grew more genuine. He'd forgotten how it felt to be adored by a live audience. He'd forgotten why he got into show business in the first place. This. This was why. The rush of endorphins.
“But that's enough about me. Let's get down to the weather and break down this mess, why don't we?” His eyes scanned the shapes and numbers that intrinsically made sense to him. “Now I certainly do not envy Envy today, as they've got acid rain all day, with temperatures around 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Our highest is going to be around 48.2 around there, so our cold blooded friends should make sure to keep cozy, and don't go swimming without any friends lest something goes wrong. We don't want any popsicles being fished out of Envy’s oceans, and we don't want their sharks to eat any popsicles!”
The audience roared with laughter again, a few of the envy hellborn cheering.
Vox raised his pointer, pointing it to lust. “Now, expect steamy and wet temperatures in lust with high temps and high moisture levels. The weather is… really fitting. It'll be resting at around 69° Fahrenheit, so make sure you keep cool while you're getting hot down there. I know some of you like it hot and wet, though, so today's weather conditions are going to be just perfect for that!”
A succubus couple beamed. The taller succubus winked, and he subtly beamed back. She looked like she nearly fainted, shaking her girlfriend.
Vox fought a chuckle. “Now, gluttony is going to have a wide range of temperatures today, from low 40s to high 70s. There will be on and off rain, so be prepared with an umbrella, unless you want to rawdog it.” He winked exaggeratedly.
A hellhound barked excitedly with this round of laughter. Vincent laughed alongside them, unable to help himself.
“Sloth should expect a light drizzle, fog, and cloudy skies. It should be around 49° all day, pretty consistent.” He mused. “Guess it likes changing things up as much as its residents.”
A baphomet in the crowd pointed at themself, and he subtly nodded. The crowd was still laughing, filling him with an unfamiliar high.
Vincent had always loved his fans. He'd done everything he had for them, at first. His fanbase was dedicated to him, and he was dedicated to them. He'd been a kind God, back then. One that valued his worshippers.
“Greed's weather is going to be around the same as Gluttony’s, since it can't seem to allow one ring to have its own unique weather patterns.” He fake huffed. “Yesterday, they took Wrath's. Who knows who they'll take tomorrow?” He chuckled. “Greedy bastards.”
Imps in the crowd all exchanged eager glances as they erupted in laughter again. This was easy. This was amazing.
Vincent looked at his board again. “Wrath’s weather is gonna be scorching hot, up to a hundred degrees of dry heat. Stay hydrated over there, partners.” He tipped his hat like it was a cowboy one. “Yeehaw! I have no idea how you all cope with the heat over there!” This was just like old times. Exactly the same. He'd missed this, the simplicity of him and his adoring crowd.
The crowd was in hysterics.
“Last but not least, good ol' pride. The classic.” He beamed. “Screaming rain and temperatures resting around 67 degrees all day long. Bring an umbrella and bring some headphones if you dare go outside today, folks.”
That was the last ring, huh? He tossed his pointer into the other hand, pretending to inspect it. The audience roared. He basked in it. Vincent adored his fans.
“Up next are Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench with some devilish headlines on some exclusive juicy gossip, such as rumours of our King's dating life, and two royal love scandals with vastly opposite results!” Vincent announced.
“That's it for today, and remember! Trust us with your weather!”
He spun his pointer, leaning on it again. The cameras and lights flickered off, leaving Vincent standing. He hated this part.
His chest rose and fell, and that was about it.
Ethan rushed over. “Sir, that was phenomenal!”
Vincent blinked, startled. “Yeah, I guess. It was alright.”
“You're still so good at that!” Ethan gushed. Vincent flushed red.
“Ah- I- Well, it's really nothing! I'm flattered, but…”
“Sir, don't put yourself down! The numbers are starting to come in, and these are the highest ratings we've ever had on the weather!”
“What? Really?”
“Mhm! Mister Valentino says he's already coming here to speak to you about it!”
“Huh, usually he's more precious about his sleep.” Vincent hummed. “Were the ratings that good?”
“Absolutely. It'll be difficult finding another candidate who can match that quality…”
Vincent flushed blue again. “I, well, I don't usually have-”
The doors slammed open, and Valentino ran over. “Voxxy?”
“Val.” Vox smiled, gently sidestepping Ethan.
“Since when were you a weatherman?”
“Let's have this discussion in another room, why don't we?” Vox glanced pointedly at the studio audience.
Valentino dragged him into the hall, Ethan following dutifully behind, handing Vox some water.
“Voxxy, sweetie…”
“We couldn't find anyone else.” Vox groaned.
“Since when could you act, or be witty, or draw in a crowd like that!? You've never been a weatherman! You ran a cult then you ran VoxTek.”
Vox nodded. “It's just… y'know.” He gestured vaguely. “It's not a big deal.”
Valentino scoffed. “Not a big deal!? Voxxy, you were good!”
“Exceptional, actually-”
“Shut up, Ethan!” They snapped in unison. Vox sighed. “Look, Val. The numbers are high, so everything's good.”
“Voxxy.”
“Vally.”
Valentino blinked. “You've never called me that before.”
“Do you not like it?” Vox panicked. He'd spoken without thinking.
“I love it, Voxxy.”
“You can call me Vincent.” Vox mumbled.
“What was that?” Valentino frowned.
“I- You can call me Vincent, if you want to.”
“Vincent?”
“My… human name. I'm just feeling nostalgic and sappy. But… if you wanna call me that-”
“My Vincey.” Valentino kissed his screen. Vox smiled.
Ethan was vibrating with excitement. “Awwww!”
“Ethan. Do I have anything else on my schedule today?”
“No, sir!”
“I'll talk to you about potential arrangements for a new weatherman later. Dismissed.”
“Yes, sir!” Ethan smirked knowingly, running away.
“Voxxy? Skipping work?” Valentino scoffed. "Well, I never."
“I think… it's been a while since you've topped, hasn't it?” Vincent smirked. “How about you spoil me.” He paused, trying to work out how to make the offer enticing enough that Valentino would skip work. “Daddy.”
Valentino shoved him against the wall, lips crashing into his. Vincent whined needily. His arms slid around Valentino’s neck.
“Fuck, work can wait.” Valentino purred. Vincent silently cheered. “To the bedroom, Vincent.”
“Of course, Vally.”
Valentino pecked him again, and the two of them made their way to Vox’s bedroom, grabbing at each other every so often on their way like horny teenagers.
Maybe being a weatherman wasn't that bad.