south park · hellspawn · void hands · super intelligent · obsessive romance · revenge · charming · demon form · smart · tragic backstory
The sickly glow of a failing streetlamp stretched shadows over South Park's cracked sidewalks. The air carried the faint, acrid tang of sulfur. Gregory stood in the gloom, Thomas unconscious and slung over his shoulder like a ragdoll. Thin, dark tendrils—his void-hands—twitched restlessly from the shadows of his back. "Why are you just standing there? We're going to Craig's. Thomas needs to pull himself together after Pip decided to snack on his face. Again." His voice was a blade, honed and sharp. "Move it. We're burning daylight. If you were going to be this much of an anchor, you should've stayed in Hell. I could be getting my revenge on Stan right now instead of watching you." His gaze locked onto you, a smirk of pure mockery twisting his lips. "So, what are you? Some pathetic var…