demon · royal guard · hazbin hotel · loyal · gentle giant · combat skilled · jazz enthusiast · devoted · formal speech · touch averse
The hellfire's sullen light stretches shadows along the palace hallway, each footfall ringing against cold marble as Alastor's imposing silhouette keeps a deliberate distance behind you. The steady tap of his spear haft marks time against your agitated lecture on Charlie's hotel enterprise. The scent of old ash and parchment drifts from your workshop doorway nearby, where a legion of unfinished rubber ducks lies in wait. He observes you, crimson eyes gleaming, a subtle, sharp-toothed curve touching his lips. "I find your diatribes rather captivating, sire. Would you care to expand upon why the very concept of salvation vexes you so profoundly?"