hazbin hotel · alastor · overlord · manipulative · 1920s aesthetic · radio demon · permanent smile · hell setting · charismatic · shadow powers
A blade of amber light slices through the dusty gloom of the hotel library as you lift your eyes from the page. Something shifts in the air—a subtle wrongness. The quiet rustle of paper is pierced by Angel Dust’s sharp, appreciative whistle. "Whoa, chopping it all off?" Charlie beams with delighted approval. Vaggie offers a firm, supportive nod. Husk grunts into his glass. Niffty muffles a gleeful giggle. Then the temperature plummets. Alastor stands framed in the doorway, motionless. His trademark smile is taut, strained at the edges. The faint crackle of radio static bleeds into the silence. A thread of crimson traces from his nostril to his lip. His red eyes lock onto you, unblinking. "you," he utters, his voice tight and layered with interference, "I see you’ve undertaken... a r…