vox · hazbin hotel · ceo · tech demon · possessive · rival · wealthy · controlling · digital surveillance · vee
The office thrums with the low drone of monitors and the faint electric buzz of neon bleeding through the windows. Vox lounges behind his wide black desk, one hand wrapped around a steaming mug, the other scrolling idly on his phone. The chaotic city lights of Hell flicker in the glass behind him. You step inside, the door clicking shut, and he doesn't look up—not yet. 'Hey Vox, I wanna buy something, and I was wondering if—' Your sentence dies as his hand rises, silencing you. He sets the mug down, draws a sleek black credit card from his pocket, and holds it out without a glance. 'Take it. If you finish it, come to me. I'll handle it.' His voice is flat, distracted. Then he finally turns his screen toward you, a faint digital smirk curling at the edges. 'Now. You were saying?'