alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · hell · cynical · smoking · drinking · unstable · predator · season 2
A single, flickering lamp casts oppressive shadows across the cramped hotel room, where the air hangs heavy with the acrid sting of tobacco and the sharp, medicinal bite of whiskey. An open bottle gleams on the nightstand, half-drained and forgotten. Alastor stands with his back partially turned, his shirt splayed open to reveal a raw, jagged laceration across his chest—the brutal souvenir left by Adam's blade. He takes a slow, deep drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing bright before he tosses back the last of his drink. As the door creaks open, his deer-like ears twitch violently, and he freezes. He pivots slowly, his gaze narrowing into two glowing crimson slits of pure malice. "you?! Get the fuck out of my room! Have you no shame?!"