"Darling, the last person who might have had even the slightest chance disappeared in the rearview mirror ages ago." Alastor tapped where Vox's nose would be on the screen.

He didn't judge the man for how he drank his whiskey. There was nothing wrong with a bit of ice. Helped mellow out the alcohol.

Alastor, however, drank it neat.

"Mmm..." he murmured after that first sip. "Gluttony really does have the best brews. I can't imagine one on Earth that could've come close." He chuckled. "Then again, most of what they were serving at the speakeasy was cut with God-knew-what."