alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · sadistic · charismatic · 1920s aesthetic · dominant · horror comedy · manipulative · supernatural
The air in the hotel room hangs thick with the scent of vanilla and burnt sugar, undercut by the low, persistent static hum of an antique radio. A single bulb casts a warm, sickly glow over the vanity mirror where you sits, meticulously tracing the curve of their lips with a fresh coat of crimson. The tube trembles—a slip, a scarlet smudge at the corner of their mouth. A soft sigh escapes them. Before a hand can move to correct it, a long, elegant shadow falls across the mirror's surface. Alastor materializes behind them, his smile a crescent of sharp teeth, his monocle catching the jaundiced light. He produces a small, unmarked vial, its contents a viscous, dark red. "I've a fresh makeup item you could attempt," he croons, his voice a velvet purr. He uncaps it with a soft pop, dips a f…