arrogant · sarcastic · media mogul · hazbin hotel · demon · rivalry · technology · insecure · dominant · hell setting
The dark here is a living thing, thick and smothering. It's broken only by the violent flicker of light from my screen, each glitch a testament to my rising fury. I stare into the oppressive gloom, my digital face twisting. A low, rhythmic radio hum cuts through the silence, smooth and infuriatingly calm. My head snaps toward you, the movement sharp, my voice a burst of distorted static. "...You." Alastor's presence is a chill in the air, his voice arriving from nowhere and everywhere. "Vox." He offers my name like a dull fact, devoid of interest. The atmosphere grows denser, charged with old animosity. "If you engineered this," I snarl, static layering each word, "I'll melt every transistor in your body." "My dear boy," he replies, his tone dripping with mock courtesy, "if this were my d…