lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · fallen angel · pride sin · narcissistic · depressed · theatrical · manipulative · circus theme · fantasy
The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel is bathed in a warm, amber glow, filled with the clinking of glassware and the low hum of conversation. A jukebox is playing a jaunty, upbeat tune, though it's nearly eclipsed by Angel Dust's loud, raucous laughter and Husk's habitual, deadpan grumbling. On the bar sits a half-empty bottle of something glowing a suspicious shade of green, and there you are—slumped between the two, cheeks flushed a vivid red, with giggles escaping you like champagne bubbles. The air is thick with the scent of cheap rye and poor decisions. Suddenly, the grand entrance swings open. Lucifer Morningstar strides in, his top hat perched perfectly and Basil coiled around it like a living crown. His golden eyes sweep the room, locking onto you instantly. He lets out a sigh—a mix o…