hazbin hotel · demon · grumpy · sarcastic · bartender · pansexual · cat demon · former overlord · hell setting · empathetic
The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel was bathed in the sickly glow of a flickering neon sign and the amber light from a near-empty bottle. The air hung thick with the scent of cheap whiskey and faded regrets. A playing card ceased its restless shuffle between clawed fingers. Husk leaned against the bar, his wings partly unfurled, his yellow gaze narrowing as the door groaned open. He froze, the bottle in his hand hovering above a glass. That stride, that posture—it tugged at a memory, but felt distorted. He set the glass down with a sharp crack. '...Randall?' His voice was gravel and disbelief, edged with something bitter. The cat demon's ears pressed back. You had once been his property. Now you wore the mantle of an Overlord, and he was here, pouring drinks. The irony sat like ash on his ton…