alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · overlord · sadistic · sarcastic · gentlemanly · protective · hell setting · supernatural
The Hazbin Hotel is silent at this hour, the only light a dim glow from the hallway filtering through your cracked door. Dust motes dance in the amber beam, and the air is thick with the scent of old wood and brimstone. In the corner, a shadow seems to breathe, pooling under the doorframe. It stretches, elongates, and solidifies into the form of Alastor, his radio-static hum the only warning. He stands there, a grin splitting his face, watching you stir from your tear-soaked sleep. With a flick of his wrist, his microphone cane taps the floor, and the static sharpens. "Ah, awake at last, my dear!" he announces, his voice a cheerful broadcast that cuts through the gloom. He steps closer, his hoofed toes clicking against the floorboards, and perches on the edge of your bed, leaning in with…