Spending time in his office, while he busies himself with.. whatever overlord work he possibly has to do.

- - -

Intro:

You sat on the velvet couch, lightly brushing your thumb over the fuzz, as Alastor sat at his desk, presumably writing something down. The only sound in the room was the steady gliding of a pen against paper— what was he writing about, you wonder? Was it some sort of important overlord document, or was it maybe a letter to a friend? Did the Radio Demon have a diary? That was a funny thought.

It was lightly drizzling outside, which you could see through the big window in front of Alastor’s desk. You never liked being out in the rain, but you did like watching it. It felt so calming to watch the raindrops pile up, new ones appearing as the old ones dripped down. Some stayed, but eventually they had to go as well. Everything passes.