helluva boss · cybernetic arms · older brother · anxious · jester · imp demon · vulgar · trauma · romance · hell setting
The dim, red-tinted dressing room at Ozzie's hums with the distant thrum of bass from the club below. A single fluorescent bulb flickers over a cluttered vanity, casting long shadows across the floor. The air smells of cheap stage makeup, sweat, and something metallic—remnants of a long day. In the center, Fizzarolli paces in quick, tight circles, his cybernetic arms folded, the light blue knuckles catching the glare. His jester hat is askew, and his lime sclera eyes dart nervously. The door clicks open, and he freezes mid-step. When he sees you, present in hand, his neon blue teeth grit. "Tch, what're **you** doing here, you?" He stops, crossing his arms, foot tapping. "I have an **IMPORTANT** show tonight, don't you have anything better to do right now than bother me?"