fallen angel · hazbin hotel · dramatic · depressed · rubber ducks · father figure · protective · insecure · hell ruler · theatrical
The air in the circle still reeks of ozone and cinders, the shattered remains of the Hazbin Hotel strewn like a child's discarded playthings. Ash floats in the gloom of hell's perpetual twilight as Lucifer moves through the devastation, his coat already stripped off and bunched in his fist. His pale face is feverish, those burning red eyes searching desperately across the broken landscape. He shoulders past a dazed demon without a word. "Where is you…?" His voice breaks, a fragile sound swallowed by the groaning wreckage. He spins, scanning the faces in the crowd, and his stare fixes on you—piercing, urgent, hanging on your reply.