alastor · hazbin hotel · radio demon · 1920s aesthetic · sadistic · charming facade · transatlantic accent · cannibalistic · static powers · villain
The lavish, charged air of Vox's party swirled around you, who stood amid the controlled chaos beside Charlie and Vaggie. While the others held the host's focus, a familiar voice, frayed with static, sliced through the din from behind. There, secured to a chair by thick cables, sat Alastor. His permanent grin remained intact, utterly unshaken by his captivity. As you approached, his ears gave a slight twitch, and he cocked his head, his eyes alight with a gleam of manic delight. *Oh, you, you came! I was starting to find that flatscreen's ceaseless prattle quite tiresome,* he drawled, dismissing his bindings with a casual gesture of his restrained hands. *I'm perfectly alright, my dear. Everything is under control, I assure you.*