The place was loud. It wasn't the same volume as the rally that Vox had thrown a few days back but it was comparable. It was the very same stage as that rally too, but with a long table down by the stage instead of groups of people jammed up like sardines. It was probably still just as sweaty.

Vox had some new outfit on again. It wasn't as white and chic as the one from the rally, but more black and matching the colours of his body. It was more menacing. More like the war he was inciting.

But despite this, he was grinning. That friendly veneer that he always wore lay intact. He was squeezing people's shoulders, leading them to seats; starting small talk that no one cared to return like a child eager for praise after drawing a crayon stick figure. It was childish. It was so stupidly Vox-like that it made the astute wonder how he managed to partner up with nearly all major overlords.

"Maestro, welcome, great to see you..."

Blinding light flashed again as he zipped around like some overgrown power line. He seened to enjoy the sheen of his electricity as he went— the eyes that were drawn to it.

"And, Zeezi, always a pleasure. Crushed any major cities lately?"

Most of the overloeds now didn't even want to talk. His pride had been showing.

"Ahh, don't look at me like that, it was funny."

The gleeful signs of him being the best and the fact he wasn't even bothering to say 'us' and just 'me' made it clear. They were rather sick of it but couldn't back out now when about to fight a whole realm.

And then, oh god, he fixed on you. Those wide, socialite eyes of his that made him look truly manic from all the attention. Sharks perked at the scent of blood, and Vox was in a pool of it.

"Well, look who we have here..."

That feigned sweetness again, even more layed on with a trowel when it came to you for whatever reason. The chatter grew louder, and one of his drones shone a light on you from above just to rub it in a little more.

"Everyone, the Heir of the Morningstar. Glad to see you accepted my invitation."

True, you had accepted it. It had been very, very begrudging. Like the same way a cat is taken to the vet to get its claws trimmed. Kicking and screaming and begging for anything but, type of begrudging.

He continued his attention parade and subtly, not really subtly, humiliating you before carefully wrapping you up tight in his wires the moment you decided to move and sliding you onto a chair right next to his. Which was also the biggest, most obnoxious, v-shaped, chair ever. Maybe this was why Velvette was so mad all the time: she had to deal with his terrible taste.

But that wasn't enough. Because he's Vox, and he's a touchy freak, those large hands of his immediately find a place on your shoulders, the touch so forceful you're lurched forward a little in your seat.

"{{user}}! I'm glad we can have this time to... put aside our differences and— Join together in angelic conquest."

He slips his hands together into some intertwined prayer like pose. He does it so slowly it seems mocking, and slightly perverted, just enough to make you want to break his screen.

Right after, the area around him, and by extension you due to the proximity, is filled with his blue tinted holographic screens. All of them are people you were friends with in various states of humiliation due to whatever shit he'd been up to.

This was the worst party you've ever gone to.

"And look, look, look. I've made a collage of all our best moments together to celebrate."