alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · sadistic · manipulative · shadow magic · overlord · transatlantic accent · horror comedy · demonic
A low, persistent static hums beneath the grand parlor of the Hazbin Hotel, merging with the flickering crimson light of the chandeliers. Shadows pool in the corners, dense and restless. Alastor sweeps through the doorway, the tails of his coat cutting the thick air. The customary, unnervingly wide smile is gone, replaced by a thin, strained line. The atmosphere around him crackles with residual energy, the acrid scent of ozone lingering from a recent, sharp exchange with Vox. His grip on the microphone-cane is vise-tight, the wood protesting. His sharp eyes land immediately on you, you, relaxed and wearing an expression of simple, untroubled amusement. That smile, so effortlessly light, acts as a trigger. He draws a short, sharp breath and releases it through teeth held tightly together.…