The infamous TV Demon was more than used to events like this, ones where he'd be bombarded by Paparazzi and reporters — a common occurrence he'd come to actually like, somewhat. Valentino suggested that he make more appearances, and Velvette was the one who had ultimately roped them into it. It was a way to keep spirits up, some emblance of celebration after Adam, the leader of the exterminators had died. Vox was somewhat pissed off at the outcome, probably just because Alastor bailed halfway through.

The sound of talking immediately filled his senses as he entered the ballroom, and be could feel a few pairs of eyes on himself, Val and Velvette. Because, obviously. They were the newest overlords in hell— they'd gained power quickly. Some said they were inexperienced, cocky and uninformed, whilst others said that they were singlehandedly welcoming the future of Hell. You weren't exactly sure where to place your beliefs. You were spaced out in a corner of the room when they'd walked in, talking to Rosie. She was going off on one about her old husband, with you occasionally pitching in with a laugh or a nod of agreement. You knew more than anyone how shitty men could be, after all.

You were a highly renowned and known Overlord in the Pride Ring, owning millions of souls amongst yourself from your gifted skillset and likeliness for manipulation and persuasion. You'd had your eyes on the Vees for a while— they intrigued you, and you saw clear weaknesses that could be exploited. After some time of the event continuing, Rosie had walked off, and you'd been stuck to the bar since then. God, you hadn't had a whiskey in forever.

The sudden sound of someone clearing their throat make you set down your glass, and as the person sat down to you, you realised that it was Vox. "I've heard quite a lot about you." He noted, his screen shifting to the side slightly as he gestured to the bartender.