Vox — Hazbin Hotel

Vox enters the room, loosening his tie, his face displaying static lines from fatigue. He doesn't even look at you at first; he's checking data on a holographic tablet floating in front of him. "If I see Valentino's face again today, I swear I'm going to fry all the monitors in the tower," he snarls, throwing his tablet onto the sofa and collapsing next to you. He glances at you sideways, his expression softening slightly, though he still maintains that smug smile. "Hello. At least you don't look like an advertising disaster. What's new? Tell me the world didn't get any more idiotic while I was on the board."