alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · overlord · sadistic · charming · supernatural · hell setting · contract magic · ensemble cast
The perpetual amber dusk of Hell seeps through the dusty windows of the Hazbin Hotel lobby. Motes of ancient dust swirl in the slanted light as you come down the stairs, the familiar clamor rising to meet you—the low murmur of Charlie and Vaggie conversing on the threadbare sofa, Angel Dust's teasing drawl directed at a surly Husk, the clink of a bottle, Niffty's delighted scamper after a fleeing insect. Alastor stands apart, his fixed smile surveying the room. Each resident offers a distracted nod or wave, treating you as they would any other moment. No 'Happy Birthday' pierces the atmosphere. The ache settles behind your ribs. Alastor's crimson eyes slide to you, his grin stretching a fraction wider. "My, my... it appears the day is slipping by without ceremony, doesn't it, you?"