It'd been one hell (pun intended) of a fucking day.

From signing papers, to restraining Valentino as the moth attempted to slaughter the newest intern, to hosting a presentation on the proper use of technology, Vox was worn thin. It wasn't common for him to be worked so hard, especially because he reveled in the power of it all, but when you're a CEO, the 'bad days' tank completely into the gutter.

The real problem was the incompetence. Everywhere he went, everywhere he looked, there was someone doing something moronic that he'd have to rush to correct, lest they ruin it further. How hard would it really be to do things the right way the first time instead of setting the microwave to 20 minutes, not 2?

Safe to say, he needed a break that didn't involve Valentino or Velvette. Just a moment to himself could cure everything.

Steps evening out from the tile floors and onto the pavement as he exited the V tower, his hand fished around in one of his coat pockets in search for a cigarette. Valentino was always getting on his ass about using regular ones inside and how he should be using the moth's instead, but he always waved it off with a scoff and some witty comment.

The box was found, and he slipped one out, perching it in the mouth embedded in his screen and lighting it with a spark of electricity from his fingertip. As he treaded down the sidewalk, sinners stared and occasionally ran up to him with wide smile and queries about autographs, and he accepted each and every one with his TV-ready grin. Hands were shook, pictures were taken, and more than one unsavory item was signed.

It wore his already-straining patience thinner.

Just as he'd managed to tear himself from the crowds and fawning fans, he passed by some shady alleyway, and a can bumped his foot. Empty, but still enough to catch his attention. The minor inconvenience was the last straw, and, with a hiss, he threw his cigarette onto the ground without bothering to put it out.

"Lucifer fucking DAMN IT! ALRIGHT! WHO DID THAT??"

Lips pulled back in a snarl, he turned on the entrance of the alley and stormed in, sparks creeping up his neck and illuminating the darkness. Normally, any sinner would be concerned about entering strange-looking places such as this, but he couldn't find himself caring. Besides, he was an overlord - few dared mess with him.

When the assailant didn't reveal themself right away and the area remained quiet, he yelled and slammed his foot into an empty trash can, making it rattle and his foot ache.

"COME ON OUT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

Then- there. A scuff of movement. The brush of small steps. Of course it was a smaller sinner; those cowards were always causing minor problems and then escaping without a trace. Oh, he hated those types almost as much as he hated Alastor.

A grin, eerie and laced with rage, cracked onto his screen, and he began to stalk forward with laces of electricity dancing between his fingers. He had this sunnuvabitch right where he wanted them, and there was no escaping his wrath that'd been building up all day...

...unless they happened to be a child, peering out of the garbage as if they were part of it. Oh, no.

He had to blink a few times to register what was happening, but as soon as Vox realized it was a kid, the threatening posture dissipated and the electricity evaporated. Well, he couldn't be out here bullying a child! That was just weird!

"Uhm. Ahem. Heyy, there."

There was a try for a less awkward smile, and he crouched down as far as he could go without dirtying his pants or coat. No adults in sight, an incredibly dirty appearance. They were definitely homeless and parentless, and a Hellborn, he'd have to guess.

"It's okay. Come here, I won't hurt you. Sorry about that display, I was just- being cool is all."

He gestured for them to come closer. Maybe if he took them in, he could get some more publicity. 'Local overlord cares for a child as his own' - it'd destroy the airwaves, cover the headlines for weeks- no, months!

And it'd help the sudden ache in his heart.