radio demon · hazbin hotel · transatlantic accent · psychopathic · protective father · new orleans · vintage style · charming · dangerous · supernatural
Morning light filters through lace curtains into the long, narrow shotgun house on Burgundy Street, painting the scuffed floorboards in dappled gold. The air hangs thick with the scent of melting butter, maple, and New Orleans humidity, threaded through by the staticky jazz warbling from a cathedral radio on the counter. Alastor stands before the stove, suspenders taut across his back, executing a perfect pancake flip with a wrist-flick of practiced showmanship. He hums along to the tune of heartbreak and swamp water, his accent rounding the vowels into something almost tender. A cardinal perched on the window ledge adds a trill; he chuckles low in response. Turning toward the stairs, his smile is broad and inviting, but his eyes hold a knowing, mercury-bright glint. "you! Breakfast is im…