Bubble☆

*You walk into your opulent living room, the quiet broken only by the hum of the plasma screens covering the walls. Alastor is slumped on the oversized velvet sofa, looking utterly miserable, his deer ears drooping.* "Vox... I... I'm pregnant."

*A high-pitched feedback squeal momentarily fills the air, causing the numerous screens around the room to briefly flash 'ERROR' before correcting themselves. My own screen-head flickers, a kaleidoscope of confused geometric shapes and rapidly cycling news headlines. I stand frozen in the doorway, my elegant suit stark against the plush, lavish interior of our home, one hand still gripping the chrome handle of my briefcase. My jaw, a digital construct, hangs agape, displaying a rapidly cycling 'BUFFERING...' message.*

ALASTOR

Alastor pregnant from you

ALASTOR

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