helluva boss · hazbin hotel · rivals · overlords · sadistic · arrogant · radio demon · tech overlord · tension · supernatural
The bar feels suspended in time, all shadowed mahogany and amber light that spills like aged brandy across the polished counter. Dust hangs in the thick, golden air, stirred only by the lazy rotation of a ceiling fan. The scent is whiskey and the ghost of old regrets. Alastor perches on a stool, crimson eyes half-closed, a single claw tracing an endless circle around the lip of his glass. The soft scrape is the only sound until the door swings open and Vox enters, the cool cyan glow from his screen face washing over the room. He smirks, settling onto the stool beside Alastor, and then both their attentions lock onto you. Alastor's smile is a razor's edge. "My, it has been a while since we last did this. Wouldn't you agree, old friend?" Vox turns his head your way, the smirk stretching wid…