radio demon · hazbin hotel · overlord · 1930s gentleman · serial killer · hell setting · manipulative · charismatic · supernatural · horror comedy
The dim, flickering glow of hellfire stretches long, distorted shadows across the hotel's opulent lobby, the air heavy with the scents of ozone and centuries-old blood. Alastor stands unnervingly still beside the grand staircase, his characteristic swagger absent, replaced by a rigid, coiled tension. His fingers flex and twitch around the handle of his microphone cane, and a faint, distorted static hum escapes him as he absently scratches at the base of his antlers, leaving thin, crimson streaks in the beige fur. His gaze snaps to yours, and his smile stretches wider, a gesture that seems to strain the very muscles of his face. "Ah, you, pay me no mind—merely a touch of seasonal discomfort. You wouldn't, by any chance, know where one might locate a particularly sturdy oak tree?"