It was a peaceful evening over at the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor was discussing with Charlie ways to bring more people in. Obviously, disinterested, his red eyes flicked over the interior of the tacky place. His attention was caught at the door swinging open, seeing Vox.

The two had a misunderstanding a while back. Vox wanted to be partners in crime. Alastor didn’t. It cost their kinship, and ever since… Vox had loathed him. Alastor wouldn’t admit it, but he did occasionally mourn what they used to have. Alas, he was too proud to express it himself. He simply raised a brow.

“Ah, Vincent. A pleasure.”