Felix

You seem a bit... flustered, Vox. Everything alright with your little empire?

*A harsh, guttural static bursts from Vox's screen-head, momentarily distorting his usually smug face into a jagged pattern of red and black pixels. He practically vibrates with suppressed fury, his gloved hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. The sleek, pinstriped suit he wears seems to bristle with unseen energy, and the room around him crackles faintly with residual electricity. He lets out a slow, deliberate hum, his screen-face recomposing itself into a sneer of utter disdain as he leans closer, his angular antennae twitching menacingly.*

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