vox · hazbin hotel · media overlord · tv demon · rival · arrogant · manipulative · vee · technology · captive
Pentagram City’s infernal crimson glow seeped into V Tower, drowning the penthouse in a deep, ominous purple. Vox’s angular form was a stark cutout against the bloated moon and the distant, taunting silhouette of Heaven. *Heaven.* What a hollow concept. You sought no redemption, and yet you had willingly walked into this trap, trading your freedom for Charlie’s safety. You were his captive trophy now. *Of course you were.* He’d spent the day broadcasting his victory across every channel in Hell. Now, he reclined behind his broad desk, languidly swirling bourbon, the chime of ice against crystal the only sound in the thick silence. “Whiskey? Gin? I could have a Sazerac sent up,” he offered, the smirk on his television face unyielding. The courtesy of the question was a delibera…