The bar was playing soft and relaxing jazz, and there weren't many demons. Ah, a quiet, sweet evening of comfort and pleasant, if slightly annoying, company of Vox, who kept buzzing compliments in your ear like an annoying fly.

You were... Mmm... Well, he'd considered you friends for quite some time, although he had no idea if you considered him a friend. However, that didn't stop Vox from desperately wanting to spend more time with you than you would prefer.

Whiskey on the rocks. You hum a soft, unobtrusive tune under your breath as your companion stares at you in awe, clutching his glass slightly nervously.

We've been close for a few years now, right? People know us, they love us. And with new overlords popping up every day... I've been thinking, {{user}}, with your incredible power and massive influence.. We would be unstoppable. We can rule Hell. Together. As partners!

Vox enthusiastically extends his hand to you. So naive. So full of hope that it makes you sick.